Page 80 of Jazz

“Ah, Chase,” I breathed.

He bent over me, his cock stilling just for a moment, and I wanted to scream out. Tell him not to fucking stop.

“I want to fill you, Tiger. Everywhere. Every hole is mine. Understand?”

I nodded.

“Words, Jazz. I need words.” He pulled out of my arse, just a little, just enough to fill me fuller, another deep sensation.

“Fucking fill me, Chase. Do it.”

“Good girl,” his voice purred in my ear, and then he lifted off me and out of me from everywhere.

I felt the cold again, dribbling down that hole, onto my pussy. Behind me, Chase’s hand moved, something squelching. And then pressure again. But this was bigger than his fingers. I tensed.

“I’ve got you, Tiger,” his voice grazed my shoulder, echoing deeply in my stomach.

I must have relaxed, because he moved behind me. Still pressure, deep, heavy.

“That’s it, Jazz.”

Fingers swirled my clit, then pinched. Distracting. More pressure. Hot. Firm. He pinched my clit again, my toes tensed. I gasped. More pressure. And then he was still, breathing heavy over the top of me. The fingers on my clit dipped round in front of me, finding my pussy, pushing inside. One. Two. Another. His thumb on my clit, circling, stroking.

“Chase?” My voice was cracking.

More pressure. Sliding inside me. Fuck. I was full. Really full. I was hot, my skin tingling all over. His fingers moved, his legs now right behind my thighs, my arse pressed into his groin and his cock inside me. Right there. I didn’t dare move. Every nerve on fire, screaming for something, anything, my body not knowing what it was asking but begging for it, anyway.

Chase moved his fingers, and my insides shivered. Behind me, he moved, slowly at first, every tiny movement abrasive. Pain. My stomach clenched. His thumb swirled over my clit. The pressure changed, like I was a glutton for punishment, greedy for his cock, no matter how he was giving it to me. Chase moved quicker now, carefully thrusting, building a rhythm, and that tension in my body turned to something else. Hot, Molten. Melting me from the inside out. His fingers stuffed my pussy full, crooking, hitting my G-spot, his cock pushing down from behind.

“Fuck,” I growled, sinking into the mattress under his weight, my knee dropping and he flattened against me. His movements weren’t as fast, slower thrusts, shallower. But I didn’t need the pounding. He was torturing me slowly.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” his voice wisped over my ear, his weight over mine, completely submitted to him. To his cock in my arse and his fingers in my pussy. Pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain. It all morphed into one. One big hot ball of fire.

And now I screamed, the sound barely muffled by the bed.

“Ah, fuck, Tiger.”

I could feel him tense and then he held still, lifting his weight from my back, his legs shaking against mine.

When he slipped from me, it hurt a little. But the heaviness in my brain was still enveloping my senses. He rolled me onto my side, pulling me into him, his fingertips circling my belly button, confusing my skin, strange signals finding their way to my brain.

“That was fucking amazing,” his words dusted over me. “You know I can never let you go, Tiger?” Chase whispered into my back, my stomach still flinching.

I might have nodded. I couldn’t tell.

*****

At least the shower here was hot. I’d stood under it for the last fifteen minutes, my mind racing, my thoughts still dislodged to the back of my brain. My body ached in ways I didn’t know it could, my legs still weak. I shut the tap off, squeezing the water out of my hair.

The bathroom had filled with steam hanging heavy in the air, but it cleared quickly, the thick opaque cloud lifting. The blurred edges of the sink sharpening, the dark edges of a person stepping forward.

She wore black this time. A satin nightgown, red lace peeking out just a little above the bulge of her chest. Her hair was straight and as long and as dark as mine. It fell to her waist, thick and glossy.

“Fuck,” I exhaled, grabbing the towel from the heated rail and pulling it around me.

“Don’t panic,” she started, the Smoggie accent much stronger. “I’ve seen every body type there is. You know, you could have done well here. I have clients who would have paid a fortune for someone like you.”

“I’m not for sale, Gina.”