A Tale of Two Paramours Ch. 18

As Jessi continued on, a pattern developed. When Jessi was licking and sucking the sensitive head, I wanted her to move her lips down my shaft so as to give me relief form the almost unbearably pleasurable sensations of her attention with her lips and tongue. While she was slowly pushing herself down the length of my penis, I was anticipating that moment when I was completely down her throat. After she reached the base, I waited breathlessly for to start the journey back up, wanting again to feel her tongue and lips torturing the now hypersensitive first inch of my erection.

Had Jessi just concentrated on the head, or just sucked me slowly up and down, deep throating me each time, I think I would have climaxed sooner. But each change gave me enough relief that I was hovering close to the edge of exploding. That is, I was until she added the humming when she had me fully swallowed. It took only a few times of that before I knew I had finally reached the edge.

Grabbing each of her blonde pigtails, I began pulling her mouth up and down me, faster and faster, until I was just about to erupt. At that point, I used my hold on her hair to jerk her head back so that my penis slipped free of her now swollen lips. With one hand still grasping a pigtail, I let go with the other hand and began stroking myself, the head of me just inches from her face.

The first three spurts of my semen splashed against her face, and I was amazed at how much there was. When I took a step back and pointed my penis at her lovely, firm, perfectly shaped breasts, my amazement grew as stream after stream of the sticky liquid pumped out onto her bosom.

With both my lovers, I had experienced stronger orgasms and produced more semen than I recalled from prior times in my life, but those were nothing like the volume of my ejaculate in this instance. It was all over the young woman's face - already dripping off her chin, in fact - and a good amount coated each breast.

"Wow, Mr. Warner," Jessi grinned. "Someone was pretty worked up."

"Just shut up and open your mouth, brat," I commanded, surprising us both a little.

The blonde did as instructed, and I reached out, caught the semen dripping off her chin with my fingers, and plunged those fingers into her mouth. Jessi slowly and thoroughly licked and sucked them clean.

"I love the taste of your cum, Mr. Warner," she moaned when I pulled my fingers from her mouth.

"Good thing there is plenty more on your face and tits, huh slut?" I asked, winking at her.

Jessi bit her bottom lip and nodded vigorously, then opened her mouth wide as I scooped up another glob of my semen and fed it to her. Soon, I had managed to get as much off her face as I could, so I reached down toward her breasts. However, Jessi grabbed my hand and stopped me, shaking her head as I looked at her with what I am sure was a confused expression.

"I want to do something else with the cum on my tits, Mr. Warner," she told me, her eyes sparkling up at me.

The young woman leaned slightly back and brought her hands to her breasts. Then she began rubbing and massaging the sticky mess into her skin, all while grinning up at me.

I had not full lost my erection after finishing on her face and breasts - the eroticism of feeding her my mess had assured I maintained some level of arousal - but the display of her using my semen like lotion on her shapely breasts brought me to full hardness again.

"On your hands and knees so I can fuck you, brat," I snarled, then grabbed her hair and used it to turn her and push her down.

"Mr. Warner!" she yelped. "We can't do that! I'm a good girl."

I ignored her comment while I pulled her yoga pants, which had remained around her knees for the entire time she had fellated me, off of one leg, freeing her up so I could spread her wide, which I then did.

"Please, Mr. Warner," she begged, "don't. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Then why is your cunt so wet," I asked as I slid two fingers into my lover's very well lubricated pussy.

"I'm a virgin, Mr. Warner," she sobbed. "You can't fuck my pussy!"

Again, I felt my doubts descend on me as Jessi, once again, pushed my boundaries. But, even as I started to let go of her hair and move back, I remembered what she had said earlier - that she was a woman, one who wanted to play at acting younger, and that what we were doing was not wrong.

With a deep breath, I again tightened my grip on the blonde's hair with one hand, then gave her nicely rounded rear end a hard smack with the other. Jessi jerked and yelped, then moaned as I rubbed her bottom where I had just struck it.

"Then I will not fuck your pussy, Jessi," I assured her. "I will fuck your tight little ass!"

I had expected protests, or even an offer to let me have regular sex with her to forestall any attempt at anal sex. However, Jessi's reaction was far from anything I would have expected. She pulled her hair free of my hand with a sharp cry, then she quickly turned around and scooted backwards away from me. The look of uncertainty and fear on her face did not look feigned, and I quickly realized she was no longer playing.

"Stay back, Mark," she pleaded when I stood up and started toward her.

"What's wrong, Jessi?" I asked.

"I... I can't... can't... it hurts... it really hurts bad," she panted.

"What hurts, Jessi?" I responded. "Did I hurt you?"

"In my ass," she said. "It hurts to take it in my ass. I can't."

"I was just playing, baby," I assured her, taking a step closer. "I just wanted to say that to make you - I mean who you were pretending to be - agree to sex. It was part of the game."

The blonde, who was now shivering, nodded, but the fear did not leave her eyes, and I could tell her breathing was becoming quite rapid.

"I... I know... I think... I know," she managed to say. "But it's in my mind now and I can't make it stop."

"Are you having a panic attack?" I asked, suddenly realizing what was happening.

"Y-y-y-yes," she stammered. "I can't stop it."

"Try to take deep breaths," I advised her.

"I'm trying," she sobbed as tears began flowing down her face. "I'm trying."

Unsure of what else to do, I left Jessi and hurried to my kitchen and grabbed a bottle of cold water out of my refrigerator. I opened it as I hurried back to where the young woman was now rocking back and forth, her eyes darting around my living room.

"Here, drink some of this," I told her, pushing the bottle at her, and in so doing, splashing some of the cold water on her face and neck.

Jessi looked up at me in surprise, then she snatched the bottle from my hand, tilted her head back, and poured the entire contents onto her face.

"That was fucking bad," she whispered as her eyes lost their manic look. "Do you have any wine?"

"I do not think you need a drink now, Jessi," I told her, then cringed at the paternal tone and nature of my words.

"Haven't had my medicine since... right after you and, um, the slut left. So, not for a week," she rasped. "The alcohol will help me even out. I'm trying hard not to let it overwhelm me again, but I think I need some help."

"Should we just go get your medicine?" I asked her.

I was concerned that she was not right about the effect the alcohol would have. I was also concerned because the only alcohol I had in my house, other than cooking wine, was tequila that occasionally used for cooking. Not only did I not want to give her any tequila, given her behavior when I had found her the night before, I was not even sure it would be fit to drink as it had been open for months. Thus, I thought it better to suggest we go to her place so she could take her medicine.

"Alcohol works as well as the medicine, most times," Jessi informed me as she ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head.

"All I have is some tequila I use for cooking," I told her, not liking the way her head snapped up and her eyes shone at my words. "It has been open nearly a year, though, so I am not sure it is good."

"Tequila never goes bad, Mark," the blonde said, her voice stronger. "It just tastes funky after a while."

"I think your medicine is a better idea," I maintained.

"Yes, but I'm barely holding together, Mark," she reminded me, standing up. "A sip or two of tequila would help me right now. My place is twenty minutes away."

"Okay," I agreed, but it was against my better judgment.

I went to the kitchen and pulled out the tequila. I poured about an inch of it in the bottom of a glass and took it to Jessi. My younger lover, who was sitting naked on the couch, her yoga pants completely off now, took the glass from me with a weak smile. Then, to my surprise, she swallowed it all in one gulp, with almost no trace of discomfort, before she leaned back against the cushions of the couch and closed her eyes.

"Um, I need to take a shower, Jessi," I told her after several seconds of silence. "I have not had one since Friday morning." I did not add that my last shower had been with Jessika.

"OK, Mark," she replied softly, her eyes still closed.

"Do you want to take it with me?" I asked her, holding out my hand.

Jessi still did not open her eyes. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, but otherwise did not move. Thinking maybe she needed the time alone, I went and took a warm shower. I did not stay in long, however, as I was worried about leaving her alone.

When I walked into my bedroom from the bathroom, a towel around my waist, I was not expecting to see Jessi, wearing one of my t-shirts from the days when I had been married and heavier, her hair no longer in pigtails, sitting on my bed waiting for me. However, that is what I found. What's more, she seemed calm and anxiety free, at least for the moment.

"This shirt's fucking huge, Mark," she said before I had the chance to speak.

"It is a 2XL," I replied, shrugging but not really meeting her inquisitive gaze.

"Why do you have a shirt this big?" she asked.

"I was, um, overweight when I was married," I admitted. "Everyone thought it was because I was happy. No one knew that I overate and quit exercising because I was miserable, not because I was happy."

"Oh, OK," the blonde said, and I was relieved she did not ask me more. I did not want to talk about my ex-wife or anything associated with my marriage.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she told me. "I think it's under control. I just probably won't be able to fuck doggy style for a bit."

I stared at my lover, trying to work out the connection before she spoke and filled it all in for me.

"I'll worry about you wanting... the other thing," she explained with a shrug and a meek smile. "And that might lead me to not being able to break out of worrying about it, like what happened earlier. I know - I'm fucked up."

"I see," I responded, but I was not sure I really understood, and Jessi seemed to realize that.

"I've only done it twice, and it hurt like hell both times. Anal, that is," she said, looking down. "And, well, the second time was not, um, something I did willingly, and that doesn't help either."

"So when I said... what I said, you started worrying about it hurting?" I inquired.

"Kinda," the blonde said, shrugging again. "I mean, yes, part of it. But I also kept thinking about how I hadn't wanted to before but ended up doing it anyway. And then I worried it was something you wanted and I didn't want to say 'no' to you, but then I'd think about what happened before and how much it hurt, and it just kept going like that, round and round in my head."

"We do not have to talk about any of that, honey," I tried to assure her.

"I want you to understand, Mark. I need you to know why I can't do it," she said, then shook her head as I started to speak. "Let me tell you, Please. It was, well, before college. There was a guy I was hooking up with from time to time. He talked me into it the first time, and it hurt so bad I told him never again. He told me I just needed to use, um, toys to loosen up. I told him I wasn't going to do that, but I don't think he believed me, or maybe he just didn't care. The next time we hooked up, he told me he wanted to try again. I told him 'no', but he kept pushing, so I told him to do whatever he wanted to do. As soon as he was done, I left and never hooked up with him again."

"I am very sorry that happened to you, Jessi," I told her, sitting beside her and putting my arm around her.

Jessi leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed. I thought I detected a slight tremor as she pushed up against me, but I was not sure. She seemed remarkably calm telling me about the source of her panic attack less than thirty minutes before.

"We do not have to talk about it anymore," I said, reiterating my prior comment.

"It's okay," the blonde sighed. "The tequila helped. I drank more while you were in the shower. It did taste a little funky, but it still got me buzzed."

"Shit, Jessi," I groaned. "Getting drunk again is not the right way..."

"I'm not drunk, Mark," Jessi informed me matter-of-factly. "I'm a little buzzed and a lot more mellow."

"I still do not think is a good idea for you to self-medicate with alcohol," I argued.

"Well, we saw what happened with no medication and no alcohol," Jessi countered.

"You were fine at the sandwich shop," I pointed out. "That was the opposite of a panic attack, I would say."

"I was playing a part," Jessi shrugged. "It wasn't really me, so I wasn't really worried about what people thought, so I didn't panic."

I tried to make sense of my young lover's reasoning, but as with some of the other quirks of Jessi's personality, I worried I would never completely understand her reasoning on this. However, some pieces did fall into place regarding one of Jessi's recurring desires - to be a 'slave'.

"That is why being dominated - being like a slave - appeals to you," I mused. "You do not have to be yourself. You have to be what you are told to be."

"Maybe," Jessi replied. "Or maybe I just like a man who knows what he wants and is willing to make me give it to him, even if it means making me his slave."

I stared at the twenty-year-old blonde, once again lost in trying to understand her thought process. She had just had a major panic attack thinking about having once been given no choice about having anal sex, and that part at least made some sense to me. However, now she was saying she wanted to be a 'slave' because she liked men taking what they wanted from her. Try as I might, I could not reconcile the two ideas. The only way I could make sense of it was that being a 'slave' was Jessi playing a part which allowed her to build a wall between herself and what she was doing.

"You are overthinking it, Mark," she said, reaching up to run her hand down the side of my face, then kissing me softly.

"I did not say anything," I said, frowning at her.

"But your face was all scrunched up, so I knew you were thinking about it," Jessi explained. "You get this look on your face when you're overthinking things. You did the same thing answering questions in class. It was how I knew I'd asked you something weird, because you'd get that look while you tried to put a spin on what I said so that it didn't sound so weird."

"It was not that what you said was 'weird', Jessi," I sighed. "You often had a different perspective, and I would just rephrase it to help the rest of the class..."

"...understand what the weird girl was saying," the young woman interrupted. "I know what you were doing. It was one of the reasons I was so in to you. I'd never had a teacher who could take the weird things I said and make them less weird."

We sat in silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Mine involved a self-acknowledgement that I had, in class, done exactly what she had said. I had been able to understand what she meant and make it something others could understand. That had been a connection, one that obviously had been important to her, just as it had become important to me as well. Unfortunately, I had since then either lost the ability to understand the way she thought, or she had begun expressing thoughts that I just could not understand.

For the first time since Jessi and I had become lovers, I really began to consider that the real problem we had was not her age, or her problem expressing emotions, or her sexual desires, or my limits in being able to satisfy those desires. The real problem was that I was not sure I was capable of understanding her enough to maintain the connection we had both felt so strongly before, first as teacher and student, then as lovers.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Jessi kissed me again, this time more passionately. As the kiss continued, Jessi slipped her tongue between my lips, and, despite my concerns of moments before, I responded in kind, even as I slid my hands up to her breasts and cupped them through the t-shirt she was wearing.

"What am I doing?" I thought as Jessi responded to my hands on her breasts by kissing me harder and rubbing one of her hands against my towel covered groin.

After several more seconds of this, we broke apart and stared into each other's eyes. I was on the verge of telling the young woman that we needed to stop what we were doing when she smiled and kissed me again. This one did not last as long, but as she was rubbing my penis through the towel for the entire kiss, I was fully hard by the time we broke it.

"So, let's pretend you talked me into sex, even though I'm a virgin, and now we're at your place while your wife is out shopping, and you're going to fuck me in your bed," Jessi suggested, her eyes boring into me with their old, familiar intensity.

"Or what if I just fucked you because I cannot help wanting to fuck you when we are together, and we just enjoy wanting each other for who we are, a man and a woman who care about each other and cannot keep their hands off of each other," I countered, matching her stare with one of my own. "We do not have to pretend to be anything else, Jessi."

The blonde blinked, then I saw tears start forming in her eyes. For a moment, I thought that she was hurt by what I had said. I closed my eyes, thinking that I just had no idea what to say to her anymore. When I felt Jessi stand up, I sighed heavily, then opened my eyes. To my surprise, my younger lover was standing in front of me, looking down at me. I had expected that she would have been heading out of my bedroom.

"I love you, Mark," she whispered, surprising me further.

"Jessi, I..."

"Don't say anything Mark," she told me. "I know things are complicated for you. I know that you care about me, but you also care about someone else, and that it's hard for you."

I was more confused than ever at that moment. Jessi standing in front of me, calmly discussing that I had feelings for both her and Jessika, no matter how obliquely she phrased it, was something I would have never expected.

"I wish you only wanted me," the young woman continued, her voice almost alarmingly calm, "but what I just realized, right now, is it's enough that you want me for me, not for who you want me to be or just as a slut to fuck. Maybe it won't always be enough, but it's enough for now. Enough for me to admit that I love you."

"All I said is that I cannot help but want to be with you when we are together," I said, staring up at Jessi.

"That is not all you said, Mark," she informed me with a smile.

I shook my head as I tried to think of something else to say. However, such concerns were driven from my head when Jessi pulled off the t-shirt and stood in front of me, naked, and happy, and as lovely as I had ever seen her.

"You are beautiful," I told her, which caused her to smile wider as her cheeks took on a pink blush.

"I feel beautiful right now, Mark," she beamed. "But maybe that's the tequila talking."