Page 111 of June: Jess' Story

Damian shuts it behind him, but I don’t remove my hand from my pussy or my nipples.

He’s just staring at me, so I say, “Stay, if you want.” (And I do want.)

“Are you sure?” he asks, but he’s already locking the door and then walking towards me. His hand strokes his cock through his thin pants as he gets closer.

“Yes,” I say. And as he approaches, I can feel him mentally undressing me.Yes. It feels good to be wanted like this.

Ineed this.

I slide my fingers out and the sound of them popping out of my wet hole is vulgar, but watching Damian watching me with torment, and lust, and longing sends chills up my spine. There’s a thrill thatwe shouldn’t be doing this heightening it all. (Knowing I shouldn’t won’t stop me, though.)

“What were you watching?” I ask, while I lean forward to slide my arms out of my dress, not even mentally aware that I’ve started stripping for him.

“Nothing.” He pushes his pants down so I can see his cock straining against its own skin.

I laugh, “Bullshit.”

“Fine. Come here and I’ll show you.” So I stand, unclasping my bra, letting it fall to the floor and then pad softly to stand in front of him in nothing but my thong. And when I get there, he pulls me up against him, my back to his chest.

“Now show me,” I say, feeling my skin burn where he laces an arm around my middle. His dick is still out and sitting snugly against the crack of my cheeks when he slides one hand beneath the silky fabric covering my mound and then unlocks his phone with the other.

“What?” I ask softly, looking at the image on his now unlocked screen. “Really?” I ask again.

“Yeah, Jess. Really.” His dick twitches against me when he says my name, and then his fingers find my clit, and I relax into the inferno now raging in my pelvis. With a gentle flick, he tosses the phone on the floor and directs all his attention to me.

My head falls back against his chest and I get lost in the pleasure of the moment. My skin tingles, my heart races. This is a new kind of high…and withhimno less.

He was looking at me. A picture of us from a vacation probably three years ago. Why or how is it a picture of just the two of us? I don’t know. But it was Mexico, and there were copious amounts ofalcohol involved and way too little clothing. In fact, I haven’t seen that bikini in years.

“Why?” I ask, and he slips a finger inside me, roughly.Yes, please.Then quickly adds another.

“Because I still think about our night all the time.” His lips are on my throat now, but the burning isn’t in my pelvis, this time it’s in my chest. I want that…but we can’t be that.Fuck, we shouldn’t even be doing this…

So instead of talking, I flip around to face him. I push him back towards the bed, until he’s lying down, and then I climb over him. Straddling his hips, I bring my hand down to his cock and fist it, running a finger over where he’s already leaking. I catch the bead of cum and bring it to my lips, and he groans.

Without asking, I pull my panties to the side and slip down around him, and he stares at me in awe. He fists the lilac silk of my thong and rips the string, discarding the barrier between us easily. He pushes his pants down, then kicks them off, too. And I don’t even care that there’s a light on and he can see me, all of me. Every stretch mark. Every scar. Damian has seen my mess already, and he’s still looking at me likethis.

I slide up and forward and then ease back down, slowly.

“Were you thinking about this?” I ask, as I start riding him up and down, flicking my hips to grind my clit against him.

“You have no idea what I was thinking, Jess.” He sinks his hands around my hips, splaying my ass cheeks.God, the way he says my name…

“Then tell me.” I’ve never wanted or needed to hear this more.

“I was thinking of your tight cunt dripping my cum as you walk around your ex husband and ex fiancé.”Fuck.

“I was thinking about these tits that I’ve felt, but only ever seen in my dreams.” He palms my breast and leans forward to suck on my nipple, making me grind even harder against him. I let loose a little sigh as my walls clench around him over and over. Every nerve ending, every inch of me begging for more.Closer. Harder. Louder.

“Jess, I,” he pauses, fighting for words, but I silence him with a kiss, because that’s not what this is. It can’t be. This is just fucking. It’s primal. This is just about need. (At least that’s what I’m telling myself.)

When I release his lips, he flips us, putting me beneath him. His pecs strain, and his arms flex andfuck, I’ve forgotten how ripped he is.

“I-” he tries again, but I put a finger against his lips and roll my hips against him to prompt him to move.

“I need you,” I say. And he gets it. He understands. And he takes over.

“God, I fucking want you,” he says back. And then he’s thrusting into me, forcefully. And he’s grinding down against me. He’s gripping my hips and holding my neck, and he feeds me the whole time.