HAPTER EIGHT
Mouth dry, I began babbling again. “So... so, I guess we can just... I mean... I guess we can both just climb on in my bed, and....”
I’d been going to say get started, but that seemed a crass thing to say, so I didn’t continue.
Studying my face in the dim light, Jackson didn’t speak right away. And when he did, it was in a low, husky voice. “We don’t have to complete the whole process of mating tonight, Vivian. I think maybe we should just get a little more comfortable with each other physically first. If you’d like, I can just give you a nice, relaxing massage for now. I will only touch areas outside of your towel—your arms, shoulders, and lower legs. Then I’ll leave. And then maybe on a future night we might feel comfortable enough to complete the entire process.”
The entire process. Just about the most clinical way a person could describe physical intimacy.
Wondering how on earth I could have possibly been enjoying a few laughs with this man just a minute before, I shrugged. “We may as well complete the whole process tonight, because I’m eager to go home as soon as possible. And I should remind you that I don’t intend to enjoy any part of the process. This is still just a business arrangement to me.
But, yes, you may give me a massage first if you want. It might help me to get my mind in a faraway place, a different place than the present. And that’s because I don’t plan on really being ‘present’ throughout this whole thing—throughout this whole process.”
Without waiting for a response, I immediately flopped on my bed on my stomach, arms above my head. “I guess you may as well get undressed right now. We should probably try to be as efficient as possible about all this.”
For a few moments, I didn’t hear any sounds of him doing as I’d suggested. But then, the sound of shoes maybe being kicked off and pushed aside. Then the very quiet sound of a belt being unbuckled, its notch pin faintly making contact with the metal buckle. These sounds were followed by the soft rustle of clothing falling to the floor. And then, a near-inaudible squeak of bed springs, combined with a movement of the mattress, told me that Jackson had gotten into bed beside me. I couldn’t see him, because my face was turned to the opposite side.
Staring at candlelight flickering along the wall, I pictured what he looked like at present, naked, almost against my will. I wondered how the soft, warm light might look flickering across his golden tan skin. I wondered if this shadow-producing light was displaying the chiseled contours of his hard chest in even sharper relief. Willing myself to stop thinking these thoughts, though without any success, I wondered how his manhood looked at this point, if it was stiffened at all yet, and if it was large.
The sound of a bottle of lotion on my nightstand being pumped a few times made my pulse accelerate, making my heartbeat sound like a jackhammer in my ears. Then it suddenly sped up even faster when Jackson’s hands made contact with the bare skin of my upper back. All the muscles in my body seemed to tense at once, but then quickly released within a few moments. Jackson’s hands, firm and warm, felt exquisite, kneading my back and shoulders slowly, and with just the right amount of pressure. Unable to help myself, I sighed, feeling as if I were melting into my bed.
It soon became clear that I was not going to be able to act as if I weren’t “present” for long. As Jackson massaged my shoulders, arms, and then my feet and calves with his large, strong hands, pumping more lotion into them every so often, I sighed a few more times, despite trying to stifle myself. I was beginning to feel a way I could only describe as squirmy. While slickness drenched the feminine folds between my thighs, I struggled not to move my body beneath Jackson’s firm caresses, wanting to encourage him to massage all parts of my body now.
But, despite this urge to shift and squirm, I didn’t, still determined not to show him much response. But then I noticed his shadow on the wall I was facing. With blurry borders and moving parts, it wasn’t a very clear shadow, but it was clear enough. Clear enough for me to see that Jackson’s male member was indeed stiffened now. Stiffened to the point that it appeared to be pointing nearly straight at the ceiling. The shadow was also clear enough for me to see that his member was indeed large as well, long and thick.
A dull ache instantly began throbbing in the very lowest part of my belly. It was all over. I knew it. I wanted him, and badly. And I probably wouldn’t be able to contain my pleasure upon feeling him enter me.
But just then, to my horror, he lifted his hands from my body, leaned over, and spoke in a low, extremely husky voice near my ear. “Maybe that’s enough for now. We can continue this on another night when maybe you’ll feel completely com—”
“Stay. Please stay.” I flipped my face from one cheek to the other on my pillow to look at him. “Please, Jackson. Please pull my towel off and let me feel your hands on my lower back and rear, too. And then...” I paused, swallowing. “Then I want to feel you inside of me.”
I thought he might make some token protest, asking if I was sure, but I was wrong. With a low growl rumbling in his chest, he reached beneath my chest, undid my towel, and gently pulled it off. Next, with his breathing becoming increasingly fast and ragged, he pumped more lotion into his hands, then did just what I’d asked him to, moving his hands from the small of my back to my rear, kneading the rounded globes with another low growl.
Now I couldn’t contain my urge to squirm even if my life had depended on it.
I lifted my hips an inch or two off the bed, making a noise between a sigh and a moan. “Now, Jackson. Please. Let me feel you deep inside of me.”
With his breathing now coming in ragged gasps, he straddled my upper legs, gripping my hips. When I felt the head of his thick shaft nudging the lips of my slick entrance apart, I moaned, the sound turning into a cry of pleasure as he entered me with one slow, powerful thrust. His manhood wasn’t just hard; it was rock-hard. At the same time, the skin covering this beyond-stiffened length felt velvety-smooth. His member was perfect; almost tortuously so, in a way. As Jackson began thrusting, I began bringing my hips up to match his movements, wanting to take his perfect pole as deep inside of me as I could.
Soon I was floating in a world of erotic bliss, fully “present” in every way. The fact that my breasts and hardened nipples were rubbing against the bedsheets with each of Jackson’s thrusts was serving to greatly increase my pleasure. After several minutes, when he moved a hand beneath my hips to stroke my throbbing feminine bud with a couple of fingertips while still continuing to thrust, I knew I wasn’t going to last very much longer, and I didn’t.
When my climax crashed over me in rapid, powerful waves, my feeling of being fully “present” disappeared briefly, because for a few moments, I felt like I’d actually left my body. I heard a long, low cry escape my mouth, and stars twinkled and danced in front of my eyes. My entire body shuddered, every muscle tensing then releasing, over and over again.
Now with his body pressed against my back, Jackson grunted out his own climax, the sound guttural and primal, as he drove his granite-hard length deep inside of me with a few final, rapid thrusts. I felt the warmth of his masculine essence filling me, a sensation so unexpectedly and profoundly pleasurable, that it served to prolong the intense contractions of my passion peak for another couple of seconds
A short while later, with his long, muscular body still partly covering my own, Jackson spoke near my ear in a whisper. “Gorgeous. You’re absolutely gorgeous, Vivian. You’re simply stunning from the top of your head to your toes.”
We soon fell asleep, limbs entwined, after Jackson had gotten up for a second to blow the candles out.
I slept like the dead, not even dreaming. Until maybe six in the morning, that is. But even then, it wasn’t a dream that woke me; it was something more like a nightmare.