A Tale of Two Paramours Ch. 05

Spent, I rolled on my back on the floor beside Jessika. The clearly exhausted brunette looked at me through half-closed lids, and I thought I could see her satisfaction in those now calm, gray eyes.

"God, that was fantastic, Mark," she whispered.

"It was," I agree. "You are amazing, Jessika."

"No Mark," she contradicted me. "You are the amazing one."

I shook my head and reached over to brush back a few strands of still damp hair from her forehead. Otherwise, we did not move - I remained on my back, and Jessika remained on her forearms and knees beside me, her thong still stretched between her thighs.

"There is one thing that occurs to me now that I am lying here with my ass feeling well fucked," Jessika declared after a couple of more minutes of silence.

"What is that?" I inquired.

"What was I thinking asking you to fuck my ass the night before I will be driving for several hours?" she mused.

"That does sound like it might be a problem," I agreed.

"We have a more immediate problem," Jessika advised me.

"We do?" I asked, unsure of what that problem could be.

"When I sit up, a whole bunch of cum is probably going to leak out all over the carpet," she explained. "I could try to stand up real quick, but my legs are feeling a bit weak still."

"I could get you a towel to sit on," I suggested.

"That would be wonderful," Jessika smiled. "Thanks."

I stood up, my own legs still a little weak, and went to her bathroom and grabbed a towel. When I returned to the living room, I put the towel over Jessika's rear end, and I held it in place, best I could, as she maneuvered into a sitting positon. Jessika removed her thong from her legs and then pulled me down so that I was kneeling in front of where she sat. When we were on the same level, she locked her lips with mine and we shared a long, gentle kiss.

"Go take a shower," she told me after our kiss ended.

"Do I smell," I joked, and Jessika shook her head and smiled.

"No - well, not all of you," she said. "I am sure part does, and if you want to put that part back inside me later, you need to wash it up really good."

"I see," I told her, and now we were both smiling.

I kissed her again, and then I stood up. Jessika stared at my soft penis, which was on eyelevel for her. Then she looked up at me and said, "If you want me to kiss it at all, you need to wash it double good."

"I will do that," I assured her.

"Oh, one last thing, Mark," she announced.

"What would that be?" I asked.

"I need to get in there ahead of you," she proclaimed, and then she hopped up and, holding the towel against her ass, rushed to the bathroom.

When I heard the shower running, I thought about going and getting in with her, even without an invitation. But just after this idea occurred to me, two issues with it did as well. First, taking a shower with Jessika would surely lead to comparisons with or thoughts about Jessi, and I wanted to avoid that situation. Second, I had just realized that she might not have invited me to shower with her because she was embarrassed about cleaning up. Thus, I decided not to jump in the shower with the sexy brunette.

Less than ten minutes later, Jessika emerged, wearing just a towel wrapped around her body. Her partially dried hair was already showing signs of forming into long curls, and her makeup-free face shone radiantly.

As she reached were I was waiting, she smiled at me sweetly and said, "It is all yours."

Ten minutes later, it was my turn to come out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. However, the living room was dark and deserted.

"I am in the bedroom, Mark," Jessika called, and I followed her voice into her room.

Jessika stood by the bed wearing a diaphanous blue nightgown that clung to but did not hide any of her body, from her large, round breasts to her smoothly shaven pussy.

"Very pretty," I said, and she smiled radiantly at me.

"I love it," she said as she looked down at herself.

"I am afraid I did not bring any pajamas," I informed her.

"Not a problem," she responded. "You can sleep nude."

"But you are wearing that very lovely garment and I have nothing," I pointed out.

"Yes, but I am the girl," she countered, and then she smiled again.

"Okay, good point," I conceded, and we both laughed.

A few minutes later, we were lying in bed together, she in her sheer nightgown while I wore nothing at all. I was on my back, and Jessika was snuggled up to my side, her head on my chest. As we lay there, I stroked her hair and she ran an idle finger up and down and in swirly patterns on my chest. Then, the lovely brunette sighed deeply and kissed my chest lightly.

"What is wrong," I mumbled after she sighed again.

"Nothing is wrong," Jessika answered. "I am just very happy I found someone I can be like this with."

"What do you mean, 'be like this'?" I asked, and I could hear the note of concern in my voice even though I tried to keep it neutral. Jessika apparently heard it as well.

"Don't worry Mark," Jessika assured me. "I'm not looking to change our relationship. I am more than happy with you as a friend with benefits. As much as I like you, I just don't feel the 'more' there."

"I am not sure what you mean 'more there'," I admitted.

The lovely brunette sat up beside me, and even in her darkened bedroom, I could see Jessika bite the side of her bottom lip before as she thought through something before responding, "I am not sure how to explain it. You are a great guy - you are smart, attractive, caring, and an incredible lover - but I don't want more than what we have now. That is what I mean when I say I don't feel the 'more' part of a relationship."

I still must have looked confused by her explanation, because Jessika expanded, "I am very comfortable around you, and it is all very easy, but I just don't feel that spark that leads to more. I mean, sure I feel sexually attracted to you. In fact, I feel freer to be myself sexually than I ever have before, but I don't feel like I would with a boyfriend. It is different - easier, less scary - I just don't know how to really say it all."

I felt bad for Jessika as she struggled with trying to put into words what we did not feel for each other. I knew what she was trying to say, but I was not sure how to articulate it either. But since she had been brave enough to try, I decided to give it a go.

"I understand, Jessika," I assured her with a smile. "I feel the same, but it is a difficult concept to articulate, partially because it is always difficult to identify and describe what is not there. Additionally, not only are we attempting to understand and explain what we are not feeling, we are also burdened with the cultural constructs of friendship, love, and sex that not only inform our behaviors, but the way we think about such concepts as well. Thus, we are forging new ground with respect to our own understanding of social and sexual relationships, as well as with respect to our personal experiences with such, and we are also struggling with reordering social categories to fit a new paradigm we can feel but cannot reduce to words."

"That is exactly what I was thinking," Jessika laughed, rolling her eyes.

"What I mean is..." I started to explain, but Jessika shook her head, reached out, and put her finger to my lips.

"I know what you meant, Mr. Warner," Jessika teased. "I wasn't laughing at you. All the great sex we have had kinda made me forget that sometimes you think about things on a different level from most of us, that's all."

"I do not think that is true, about how I think," I protested, but Jessika's laughter kept me from saying more.

"Oh, it's true," the sexy brunette snickered. "I can't remember who said it, but after class one day - I think it was the day we covered argument structure and logical fallacies - someone commented that if anyone asked you if you were drinking apple juice, you would explain how apple juice was made and then discuss different variations of apples and apple juices, as well as how we could categorize those different variations, rather than just answering 'yes' or 'no'."

"I see," I snapped, and I instantly regretted my petulance.

"Don't be mad, Mark," the now serious brunette pleaded "I thought it was funny. I mean, it's something you do sometimes. But I think it is endearing. It is like you just can't help wanting to help people see the whole picture."

"I'm not angry, Jessika," I assured her. "And I did not mean to be too pedantic about it all."

"Don't worry about it, Mark," Jessika told me. "You're right - what you said about trying to make what I feel for you fit with what I know about relationships and what society tells us about relationships. It's hard to do and hard to explain. But let me try again, okay?"

"Sure," I replied.

Jessika took a deep breath, and started again, "It's like this - when I look at us, all this, objectively, I tell myself I should want more because it's all so comfortable and easy with you. But the flip side is that I believe it's comfortable and easy with you because I don't want more. I don't have to worry about you thinking less of me if we do something particularly dirty, or I act slutty. I don't have to try to walk a tightrope to make sure that you respect me, that we have good sex, and that the sex is satisfying for me. I could've never acted like I did tonight with any boyfriend I've ever had - I would've been too worried that it would change how he thought about me. And I'm just rambling now."

I thought about what Jessika had said, then I admitted, "I have never thought of it that way," as my mind replayed my Friday night/Saturday morning activities with Jessi. "I did not know women felt that way."

"I can't speak for all women," Jessika continued, "but a lot I've known think that way. It's difficult to be as sexual as we want to be because we're always worried that the guy we're with will think less of us if we're too dirty or too slutty. I've had that experience, as have many of my friends. It was horrible with my ex-husband. He kept pushing me to do more things, but he treated me worse after each thing we did. And while he may have been more of an asshole than most, even some "good" guys I've been with treated me much differently after some things we did."

"So, why is it you do not worry about me respecting you?" I inquired, trying to fully understand what she was saying.

"I don't think you will lose respect for me because we have nasty, dirty sex," Jessika explained. "First, you already knew me in a different setting, and you know I'm not some dumb bimbo just because I have big boobs and like sex. And second, we're together because we want to have sex - it is what brought us together. It allows me to be me, to be as wild as I want to be, without worrying you'll decided I'm not girlfriend material."

I thought that I now understood, but I was concerned about something she had said.

"Jessika, I am not just here for sex," I explained. "I like you - I think you are a smart, fun person. I enjoy spending time with you. Over the last week and a half we have had some great conversations..."

Again, Jessika put her finger to my lips.

"That's not what I meant," she responded. "I'm not saying we don't have fun or great conversations; but they're separate from the sex."

Jessika paused for a moment, but before I could say anything, she said, "That's not quite right, is it? The sex isn't separate from liking you - it's all connected. But maybe it's that being friends isn't dependent on sex, so sex is sorta a bonus. I guess it just comes down to friends with benefits, but I'm not sure that term really covers it."

"The French have the concept of a 'paramour'," I interjected.

"But isn't a paramour a mistress?" Jessika asked.

"A paramour can be a lover taken by a married person, but the concept encompasses more than that. It applies to lovers in any relationship that is outside the normal societal expectation of a romantic relationship. So, even an unmarried person could have a paramour if that relationship was not a traditional romantic union. The people involved usually have real, often strong feelings for each other, but they are not necessarily the type of feelings that lead to marriage or the like."

"So, I'm your paramour?" Jessika asked.

"And I am yours - it goes both ways," I explained.

"That works for me," Jessika grinned. "But I did want to go back to one thing. It's very important to me that your interest in spending time with me is more than sex, or that there are things in addition to sex, and I didn't mean to indicate otherwise."

"I understand," I started, but Jessika had more to say.

"During class, it felt really good that someone like you listened to me and thought I had interesting things to say," she went on. "It made me think you were interested in more than just my body, although I could tell you liked that too. And since there were two younger, hotter females in class, but you did not seem interested in them, I was even more sure there was something else about me you liked, and I hoped it was my mind. And that's what allows me to be this way with you - you like me for who I am, mind and body, not who you want me to be, and you don't expect anything more from me. That's what I feel, anyway."

"I am not sure I agree on anyone in class being hotter than you or Jessi," I said, immediately realizing my mistake.

Jessika frowned, shook her head, and in an exasperated tone asked, "That's what you focused on - who was 'hot' in the class?"

"Well..." I started to explain myself.

"And I think you're pretty much alone with your obsession with blonde Jessica, Mark," the brunette informed me, cutting me off.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying not to sound defensive. "I am not obsessed with her."

"Ok, let's call it your interest in her then," she sighed. "But I don't think any other guy in the class would've given her more than one look over a couple of the other girls her age in class."

I knew I should let this drop, but I said, "I find her quite pretty..."

"I didn't say she wasn't pretty," Jessika elaborated. "She's pretty. With a little more meat on her bones and softer makeup, she might be more than pretty. But she's not hot."

"What about the Halloween costume..." I began, but I stopped myself from going on when I heard Jessika snort.

"That was just awkward, Mark," Jessika countered. "I really think you're probably the only person who didn't find it a bit unsettling - that costume just wasn't her."

I momentarily thought about pointing out that both Jessi and I had noticed that Jessika had seemingly been a little out of sorts with the attention I had paid to Jessi that night in class, but I realized that might end our night, if not whatever relationship we had, very quickly.

"Let's talk about something else," I said, but Jessika cut me off.

"I take it you're still seeing her," she stated - it was not a question.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Okay," the brunette said, and then a long, awkward silence, the first such I had really experienced with Jessika, hung in the air.

Finally, the brunette commented, "This is not how I envisioned tonight going."

"Nor did I, Jessika," I agreed.

"You could make it up to me by giving me a back rub," she told me, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I spend a lot of time massaging other people, and I think it would be nice to be on the receiving end of a good rub."

I was not sure there was anything for which I truly needed to make amends, but I was quite ready to move on from our current discussion, so I consented to rubbing her back. I sat up, she lay down beside me, and I started massaging her, concentrating first on her shoulders. However, as thin as her nightgown was, I soon realized it was an impediment.

"Why don't you take off your nightgown," I suggested.

"And be naked? I am too shy," she giggled.

"I think we both know better than that," I pointed out.

"Okay," she assented before sitting up and stripping the thin garment from her body. I reached out, intending to caress her now bare breasts, but Jessika moved my hand away.

"Not until I get my back rub, mister," she scolded me.

"Sorry, I cannot help myself," I explained. "They are just too awesome."

Jessika snorted and rolled her eyes, but then she grabbed my hair and pulled my face down to her chest. I immediately began kissing and licking her soft flesh and her hard nipples. Jessika moaned, but too soon she pushed my head away.

"Just a taste for now," she said. "I want my back rub."

The sexy brunette lay back down, and for the next fifteen minutes or so, I massaged her shoulders and back, occasionally straying down to her rounded derriere. Jessika alternatively sighed and moaned, and she was clearly quite relaxed.

"Time to turn over," she announced, and she rolled over, bringing her breasts as well as her shaven pussy under my hands. I lost no time in massaging both areas.

"Did I say you could put your hand down there, Mark?" she teased me, but when I started to withdraw my hand from her groin, she grabbed it in both of her hands and held it in place.

"Okay, you can put your hand down there," she moaned, as my fingers lightly moved over her most sensitive of areas. "Do you like it shaved? I did it today."

"I like it a lot," I told her, "but I also liked it before. Both are nice."

"I don't suppose you'll lick it for me?" she inquired.

"I would love to," I replied, and I began to kiss down her chest, heading toward her pussy.

I was planning to slowly tease my way down; however, Jessika obviously wanted to speed things up, because she grabbed my hair and pushed my head down. I placed a big kiss just above her labia, then I gently spread them with my fingers, exposing her clitoris, which I immediately began licking. Jessika, for her part, moaned and bucked her hips up as I flicked my tongue against her clit.

"Has anyone ever told you how good you are at this?" the moaning brunette asked as I looked up at her.

I shrugged but did not say anything. I wanted to give her at least one orgasm before I took my mouth off of her. I began sucking on her clit, and her breathing quickened.

"Because you are... good... oh so good..." she panted. "God... so, so good..."

I did not respond, other than licking and sucking her clit with more intensity. Just a few minutes of this brought a telltale shudder from Jessika, and soon she was squeaking and moaning, her hands tight in my hair.

I lifted my head and saw Jessika was lying still, eyes closed, one hand squeezing a breast while the index finger of her other hand was hanging out of her mouth. I had been so focused on giving her pleasure I had not realized she was helping things along herself. I found the thought of her doing so incredibly arousing, and my penis, which had not yet been fully hard, became so quickly. This gave me an idea.

Without telling the sexy brunette what I was planning, I moved up between her legs until my erection was just pushing against her now swollen labia. Slowly, carefully, I slid inside of Jessika's pussy. As I did so, her eyes snapped open, but when I pushed further in, they closed again.

"Oh yes," she moaned. "Please fuck me."

I leaned forward, bracing myself with my arms, as I began to move in and out of her. And while I did so, Jessika wiggled and moaned beneath me, running her hands up and down my arms.

"Oh yes, that feels good," she murmured. "Nice and deep and slow."

I continued the same way until Jessika's moans increased in frequency, evidence of her increased arousal. Again without warning her, I pulled out, scooted down, and began teasing her clit with my tongue.

"OH GOD," she blurted out, and then she grabbed my head again.