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Jess shifted in her recliner, paused her reading for a moment to look over at her husband. Scott was also in his recliner reading on this cloudy afternoon, and she thought for a moment that, for newlyweds, their life was not that exciting. Sure, they have a loving relationship, and even when they’re both reading like this, they frequently stop to hold hands or check in with each other – sometimes just touching the back of her hand to his. Small moments of affection.
She knows he isn’t really getting enough sex from her. Jess has always had a strong libido, but unfortunately that libido is usually reserved for her vibrator. Sex with Scott tends to be brief, always leaving her aching for more – more penetration, more time, more everything.
The book she’s reading is not wonderful, but getting better: “The Glass Virgin” is a cross-class tale set in 1800s England. Throughout the novel, there’s been an increasing tension between the two central characters, Manuel and Annabella. Jess begins to drift off and closes her eyes for a few moments.
Annabella at 16 has been raised to be the most refined of ladies, but her newfound knowledge that she is the bastard child of a prostitute and a boxer has shocked her delicate senses. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, this explains some of those forbidden and dangerous feelings she has sometimes experienced at bathtime, or in the deepest parts of night when her body feels like she has been struck by lightening. She wonders if there is anyone she can ask about these feelings – certainly not Mama, or the woman she has always called Mama – and she can’t really think of anyone else who would be able to listen to her. Except, perhaps, Manuel.
Manuel Mendoza is a giant of a man. Standing a head above most men, and as strong as the horses he tames, his Spanish darkness seems incongruous with his Irish brogue. Though raised in servitude, he has always made his own future, and calls no man his master. He has cared for Miss Annabella since she was a wee child of 10, taught üsküdar escort her to ride horses like a man, and been a friend to her in the darkness of the castle she calls home.
“M—Manuel?” Annabella appeared before him in her finest riding clothes one Saturday morning.
“Why Miss Annabella, what are you doing about so early on a Saturday morn?” replied Manuel, startled to find her in his quarters.
Eyes downcast, Annabella slowly came forward, until Manuel cleared a stool for her to sit on. “Please have a sit, Miss. What can an old groom help you with today?”
Annabella, still moving slowly, cautiously, raised her head and met his eyes. He was startled by the fiery look he found in them. “Manuel, what is to become of me? Will I become a prostitute now that I know this is my true heritage? Will I continue to feel more fire between my legs when I ride Stormy, and feel such forbidden things when Watford gives my bath? Will you help me banish these thoughts forever? Mama can’t help me, she already thinks I am the devil, and I’m not, Manuel, I’m really not — I want to be a good girl and don’t want these thoughts in my head anymore, and—”
“Miss Annabella, stop!” Manuel stood, pulling her arms up with him. “Please, Miss Annabella. You are not a devil, and you are not going to hell. You are the lady your mother raised you to be. But, Miss, as for helping you, well…” he trailed off, thinking he may say too much.
He was growing uncomfortably aware of her body, and its undeniable curves in the still-childish dress. She is so beautiful, he thought… but no! He must send her back to the House. “Miss Annabella, I think you should go on now and spend the afternoon at tea with your Mama. She will know best.”
Jess woke with a start, one hand between her legs. God, if only she could just come as easily as men seem to. Once she gets going, she is hot hot hot and nothing can seem to really quench that fire, and she’ll just want to eat up every man she comes anadolu yakası escort into contact with… but, it just seemed like that didn’t happen much anymore. Not like in the beginning.
She thought about the characters in her book, and their 400-page extended foreplay, because that’s what it seemed like to her. She has a bad tendency to want to rush ahead to the good parts, which is almost always a mistake. Glancing over at her husband, who was now napping himself, she relaxed a little and let her hand keep rubbing softly under her pants. Her nipples, always ready for fun, stood at attention and she rubbed them through her sweater.
She thought of Scott, and how he was always hoping for more sex than she was giving. She thought of their early dating days, when he would bury his face between her large breasts and just rub his face between them, licking and kissing everything he could, while his strong hands pulled her closer to him.
He wanted to drown himself in her breasts, in her scent, in her arms, and then he would seek her eyes for approval (always the gentleman) before filling her with his hard cock, oh god! How hard his cock would always be.
Just remembering, she found herself breathing harder and quietly got up, placing her book on the floor. Knowing he even napped heavily, she was confident he wouldn’t wake until she wanted him to. She unzipped his pants as quietly as she could, and then licked two long licks from the base of his balls to the tip of his cock.
Then, looking up at his face, said “Wake up, Scott!” then quickly plunged her mouth down the length of his cock as his startled eyes snapped open, then clouded over with pleasure at this sudden sensation, this surprise. He groaned and grabbed her short red hair in his fists.
She had always been able to deepthroat, that was for sure, and on a good day she could get his entire cock and some of his balls in her mouth all at once. Now that he was awake, she wanted to get more of him. ataşehir escort She slipped her hands under his ass and pulled him toward her as she took him into her mouth. She knew that, surprising him like this, he would be coming fast. That was ok – she really needed to feel that hot jizz on the back of her throat, needed to feel him losing control at the whim of her tongue, and there would be plenty of time for more later. After all, they were newlyweds.
He was really hot now – she could feel the telltale slipperiness in her mouth, the way the skin of his cock was moving easier, and how his cock seemed to get even harder and thicker under her moving tongue. She moved her head up, down, sometimes to the side, moving her tongue in circles even as her head went another direction, always making sure to get his balls on the downstroke, sometimes taking her hand and squeezing gently on his balls.
She was getting really turned on too now. Little grunts and moans escaped her mouth, and she frantically undid her own pants with one hand and started fingering herself. Seeing that, Scott leaned forward enough to pull up her shirt and grab her breasts. She loved it when he handled them roughly, like when he was really turned on, and this was enough to get her really going.
She was moaning and sucking his cock frantically now, moving so fast with her mouth on his cock, and she was so fucking hot, she wanted to just have something shoved up inside her and she wanted to have a million guys come all over her, and she loved his hard hot cock in her mouth, and all at once he grabbed her head HARD and grunted, “Oh god, oh god Jess, oh god you’re gonna make me cum, oh GOD!” and she felt it, hot, salty, sweet, all at once, shooting into her mouth as she screamed with the pleasure and the agony and the desire and heartbreak all at once.
She held his cock in her mouth, slowly washing down all the cum and cleaning him off, letting him relax, and realized how hard they were both breathing – panting, really. She finally climbed up onto the couch with him and laid her head in his lap, looking up at him. “Good book?” she asked him.
“Yeah, it’s ok – but what are YOU reading?”
She smiled. “Oh, just a silly story. But, next time we’re in bed, do you think you could maybe call me Annabella, and I could call you Manuel?”
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