Bliss Ch. 00

"I really gotta call Monica now," Zak announced. He leaned back into the couch, phone ringing and cocked his head at Debra.

"Where do you summer?" he asked Debra. "Malibu?"

Debra shook her head slightly. "No."

"Oh, god, it's her machine. She's pissed at me," he wailed, listening into the phone.

Jake shook his head, "Zak, it's almost 1:00 in the morning."

"She's a goddamn socialite," he replied, exasperated. "These are her peak hours. This chick is—Hey! Monica it's me. Sorry I didn't call you back. Bunch of shit came up. Listen I'm at this Christmas party thing at—" he turned his head to glance at Jake, eyebrows raised.

"Carrie Fisher's," Jake whispered with a frown.

"Who— anyway, I'm at Carrie's Fincher's and I'll try to give you a buzz later," he finished before snapping the phone shut. Jake glanced down at his watch again; it was defiantly time to leave.

"Dude, do you have any pot? Or some coke. God, I could use some coke," Zak said, scratching his noise.

"Uh, no, sorry. Look I think I'm about ready to head out guys," Jake said starting to stand up and stretch.

"Oh, really? Well, let me walk you out," Debra offered standing up beside Jake. They both looked down at Zak and bid him a quick goodnight.

"Ahhh, come on. Nights just starting. Awe, you guys..." But Jake and Debra were already half way across the room, Christmas music still echoing throughout the house.

'We three kings of Orient are... Bearing gifts we traverse afar.

Field and fountain, moor and mountain,... Following yonder star.

Jake found himself pause to listen; this was one of the few Christmas songs he actually enjoyed hearing more than once.

O star of wonder, star of night... Star with royal beauty bright, Westward leading, still proceeding... Guide us to thy perfect Light.'

Suddenly, he felt Debra lean up against his shoulder. "How do you manage to put up with people like that?" she whispered. Jake chuckled and resumed heading toward the front door.

"Well, you forget I do earn my living by impersonating others," he replied with smile.

'O star of wonder, star of night.. Star with royal beauty bright, Westward leading, still proceeding... Guide us to thy perfect Light.'

* * *

Dress shoes in hand, Jake creaked open the door to Reese's bedroom. She was still awake, nightstand lamp shinning while reading a magazine under the covers.

"You awake..." he whispered, stepping into the bedroom.

"Hey!" she cried, tossing both her magazine and the covers aside. Clad only in rose-colored underwear and a tan shirt, she hurried over to hug him.

"How was Tennessee?"

"Oh god, it was boring," she said whispering the last. "Parents are doing great though. Loved seeing the kids." She hugged him closer. "I'm just glad to be back here," she sighed, holding his body close and inhaling his cologne.

Jake kissed the side of her soft cheek as she slowly withdrew, stepping back to glance him over. God, he's stunning, she thought. "So, how was the Christmas party?"

"Uh, it was okay. Not really my crowd," he answered with a half-smile, already undoing his cuff links.

"Mmmmm... I wish I'd been there to protect you."

"Yeah, well. It was Zak Hart I needed protecting from," he laughed heading toward the bedroom closet.

"Zak Hart! How the hell did he get invited? I've heard..." Reese turned to see Jake starting to undress under the closet's doorframe. A warm shutter coursed though her; she hadn't been planning on bringing up the intense discussion they'd started right before she'd left for Tennessee... but now, seeing Jake all groomed up in a tux was proving to be far too tempting. May as well test the waters, she thought.

"...Anyway, I'm glad the next few days will be just us and the kids." She padded over to take a seat at the end of the bed. "Umm, Jake..."

"Yeah?" he said distractedly, trying to remove his jacket.

"I um... I've, been giving a lot of thought to what we discussed before. About... you know."

Jake paused for a moment, face going blank, before resuming to undress. He turned his back to her while considering playing dumb. What's the point?

"Shit, look, Reese... I think that's great. I really do... I've um, been considering it a lot too. But..." he glanced over his shoulder. "we really have to talk about it tonight?"

Reese sighed heavily, looking down at her hands.

"Sorry. It's just... I never thought our sex life would be waning like this."

Jake looked down in shame. He'd never heard that from anyone before. "Well, Reese, you know I'd be glad to..."

Reese put up a hand to stop him mid-sentence. "To be frank," she said cutting him off, "...my vagina is a bit worn out from that tongue of yours."

Jake gapped at her. She couldn't help but laugh.

"No, babe, I'm just kidding but... nice as it is, part of great sex is knowing your partner is getting it as good as you are. It's about mutual pleasure...you know."

Slowly, Jake turned to met her eyes while feeling a stab of irritation for thinking he could act his way through complete sexual satisfaction when the person he was with had both a NYFCC award and Oscar for the very art of pretend. Breaking her gaze, Jake turned back toward the closet, reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt. Reese stared at his back, admiring the solid frame, broad shoulders, looking down to his long legs and beautifully compact butt. In latter instantly put her in mid of something she'd been agonizing over for weeks— mainly because she couldn't quite accept the reality of it.

Ever since finding a thick, 10-inch black dildo in Jake's overnight bag—she'd been digging in it to turn off his phone alarm while he'd been showering—Reese had come to understand the object was giving her boyfriend far more pleasure than she was. While briefly considering the idea of proposing a strap-on, she realized it would be far to discomforting for herself. It also seemed like it would confirm something she'd yet to really broach with Jake... that he may be more than just "sexually ambiguous" which is what he'd hinted to her in the past. But she'd always tuck that away far back in her mind for its full acknowledgment would mean yet another doomed, high profile relationship.

And the possession of a dildo didn't actually confirm anything. After all, her ex-husband Ryan Philippe had asked her on more than one occasion to stick her very own vibrator up his ass. But that was always when you were together, when he could touch your naked breasts at the same time.

She hushed the intrusive inner-voice. Surely it was just anal stimulation that excited her new super-star boyfriend, not actual cock. Recently, Reese had discovered what seemed like an answer to her prayers while watching a re-run of Sex and the City; it'd been the episode were Miranda was rimmed by a gym buddy and later asked her girlfriends if she should reciprocate. Reese had been surprised when Samantha said no... but even more shocked to hear Charlotte admit she'd been rimming her new husband for months!

The sound of Jake undoing his belt suddenly brought her back to the present. He was now leaning against the closet, keeping his eyes averted and obviously hoping Reese wouldn't push the matter of their troubled sex life any further.

Go on. Do it. You don't really want to be second to a dildo. Reese closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You know what Jake... why don't we try something different," she finally proclaimed, bravado and nervousness stirring like a heard of butterflies in her stomach. Jake turned, his suit pants half-unzipped, brows raised.

"Turn... turn around and... drop trou!" she managed to let out, her tone intending to sound stern but succumbing to a mock-authoritative one. Jack arched his eyebrow further but grinned in spite of himself. He soon yielded to a giddy bout of laughter; it never failed to crack him up whenever Reese did or said something that contradicted the virtuous, country gal-image she so frequently projected to the media. Deciding to play along, Jake turned his back to Reese and stuck his fabric-clad butt out, giving it a few seductive shakes.

"Hey! What'd I say boy," she was grinning now too. "Lose the pants. I want to see... those fine Gyllen-buns." Did I just say that?

Jake paused. "Gyllen what?" he asked chucking with a headshake. The name could have been a turn-on but hearing it come from her—in that semi-Tennessee-girly twang was more annoyingly endearing than sexually arousing. Still, Jake found himself lowering his zipper to let the pants slide down his long, muscular legs and pile at his sock-clad feet.

He then yanked down his gray Calvin Kline briefs and let them join the pool of clothing around his feet. Now standing straight and gloriously nude, hands placed on hips, Jake stared ahead into the closet— a bemused smile on his lips.

Silence. Jake glanced slightly over his left shoulder and his playful expression instantly melted when he saw the somber look on Reese's face; her eyes were utterly transfixed to his rear.

Reese's throat had gone dry; as it always did whenever she saw Jake's naked butt fully exposed— whether it was during stolen glances as he changed cloths or a full-on, uninterrupted stare when he walked naked from the bed to the shower—the white, creamy complexion of his diminutive yet muscular buttocks never failing to arouse her.

Now she was about to get up close and personal with those buns like never before.

Scooting off the bed, Reese waked over to the closet, running a hand through her long blonde hair before slowly dropping to her knees behind Jake's naked form. Taking a deep breath she reached up to grip the taut muscles of Jake's buttcheeks, then slowly began messaging them. Jake jumped slightly, a shiver coursing through his body, but didn't pull away. Reese closed her eyes; you don't want this. You can't want this. You're not the kind of girl who puts her tongue on a man's anus. Reese continued kneading the soft flesh. But I can't lose him, either.

She'd never rimmed anyone before, but if that prude bitch on Sex and the City could do it, how hard could it be. Plus... Reese had stuck a finger up most her boyfriends asses' over the years— and while few would ever admit it, she knew they loved it. In fact, her ex-Ryan had liked the finger play so much that at one point he'd actually begged her to rim him. But Reese had refused. It was just that the notion of doing it to Jake Gyllenhaal was... different somehow and... oddly appealing. The feel of writhing asscheeks teased her exploring fingers. She ran a finger from the base of Jake's spine, down through the crack of his ass, then down to his balls.

"What... what are you doing?" Jake moaned.

Reese kept all her attention on the sexy expanse of pale, muscular flesh, feeling the tension slowly leave Jake's body as she squeezed the pert buttcheeks under her hands. They tensed, hard as marble, then they relaxed, soft and pliant.

Again, Reese couldn't help but think of her ex-husband and compare the two movie stars' buttocks. Ryan's had much more of a large, pale bubble-butt while Jake's was far smaller in size, taut and compact. And—unlike Ryan's—featured tendrils of dark brown hair around the small crack.

Curiosity getting the best of her, she dug her nails into the smooth flesh and started to spread the cheeks apart. She was greeted first by a line of dark hair along the crack, then a small, pink hole in the center. It winked at her.

"Ohhh" she gasped in surprise, releasing the firm cheeks and falling back slightly. However, when Jake started to turn, she grabbed his hips to hold him in place.

"Reese, what the hell—ahhh!" She had him spread wide, exposing the hole again. Jake looked down over his shoulder, cheeks blushing red. Reese barley noticed; her attention focused solely on what lay between those beautiful cheeks. The inner-crack was definitely hairier than she'd anticipated. By no means a rainforest but still nice and furry— the opposite of Ryan's near clean-shaven pucker. She also sensed a rugged manliness to Jake's anus despite its rather clean fragrance.

Reese watched the hole carefully, studying the hairs circling the puckered surface. Strangely enough, the image called to mind that of her childhood pet hedgehog... particularly when the tiny animal had yawned; it's pink mouth surrounded by skin oddly evocative of her boyfriend's anus.

She leaned in close and lightly blew on the pink pucker. It quivered, causing Jake to moan and shift his body. But he wasn't resisting.

Reese continued to puff small breaths against its surface, examining its shape and tiny ridges with fascination. She couldn't help it; her country gal eye's had never been privy to the sight of a grown man's anus this close-up before.

Deciding to take the plunge, Reese leaned forward to allow her tongue one quick flick along surface. Jake let out a gurgled squeal, which Reese found incredibly satisfying. The scent of him hit her outstretched tongue as she slowly began bathing the crack with wet attention, the taste pungent and exhilarating, the warmth from his inner cheeks overwhelming.

Jake shuttered, a soft moan escaping his lips. "No... Reese, wait—" His voice had gone up a few octaves now that Reese her tongue on his pink little pucker.

She shushed him, "Relax... it's okay Jake. Enjoy it."

Pausing to look down through his legs, she could tell he had a raging hard-on... even seeing past the low hanging balls to watch the pre-com drip onto the closet floor. She smiled, not needing to see Jake's face to know his dreamy blue eyes were glazed over and half-shut, his mouth hanging slightly open.

She stared forward again and then proceeded to trace Jake's masculine glutes with her tongue before running a full line up through his crack.

Jake writhed in front of her, bringing his arms up and out to rest his palms flat against the wall. One moment he could barely take a deep inhalation, and the next, he was panting. Soon Reese's tongue was lapping at his twitching pucker. Despite himself, Jakes hips began an involuntary, natural trust. He couldn't help but further arch his back out when Reese whispered for him to spread his knees even further, widening her view of his asshole.

"That's it, honey," she encouraged. "Feel it."

Jake was beginning to think he actually might be able to fully enjoy this.

"—flip him over, I want to eat his ass—"

Jake froze. No, it couldn't be.

"—yeah this shit is tasting seriously good tonight—"

"—stick our your tongue, boy—"

"—my God, Heath come and look at this—"

Jake whimpered, the sudden echoing onslaught of memories overwhelming his mind.

"—go Jakey, go—".

Reese was completely lost in manhole when she heard Jake grunt out a near-desperate plea; "Stop, stop. Stop!" he cried aloud, thoughts changing from erotic to frustrated. She retreated back a few inches, barely glancing up at Jake's bent form, far to distracted by the glistening, saliva-drenched pucker.

"That's enough... Reese," he panted. "No," she said, her eyes never leaving his hole.

"Reese..."

"It tastes too good," Reese muttered half to him and half to herself. "I need more."

"Oh, shit," Jake screamed as Reese resume her tonguing. Blissful whimpers escaped his mouth as he reached down and grabbed her head, pressing it hard against his flesh. But the feel of soft, long blonde hair against his fingers instantly killed the erotic spell. He started straightening up, gasping, "Stop it," while trying to wiggle free.

Despite his fervent wish to remain in the moment, to block out all extraneous information and memories, Jake found himself thinking of his beloved boys; Austin, Peter, Matthew and, most of all, Heath. He felt an aching need to be surrounded by their presence... not by Reese. His mind raced as a million images came flooding into his head all at once—images of lust, of cock, of man-tongue, of total worship. It was what he truly desired. Not this. What if they'd all moved on... what if he was to be left with only pussy and girl-tongue for the rest of time... Panic crept over Jake like a thick blanket, ruthless and suffocating.

"Seriously Reese, that's enough," he exclaimed and turned around sharply. Reese fell back on her haunches as Jake retreated toward the bed, his fading erection bobbing as he went.

"Jake?" She got up from her knees, watching as he perched on the edge of her bed, naked except for his white dress shirt and black socks. He brushed a hand through his thick brown hair as if trying to regain his senses. Reese carefully approached him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered sitting down beside him. She leaned over to kiss his warm shoulder. "I thought you'd really enjoy it."

Jake sighed deeply, feeling immense regret for just pushing her away like that.

"I... did. Loved it in fact." Jake was staring ahead now, not wanting to meet her eyes just yet.

"So... then why'd you stop me?"

"Because... it's to much."

"Bet no one's done that for you," she nudged, trying to lighten the moment.

Jake shut his eyes. Five, he wanted so say thinking about all the beautiful tongues that had plowed his hole over the years; Dennis Quaid—the man who'd awakened Jake's sexuality—in a trailer no less, on the set of The Day After Tomorrow... Austin Nichols, who tongued just fine, but had no real sense of rhythm and style... Peter Sarsgaard and Matthew McConaughey—both grade-A ass eaters who simply loved jamming their tongues deep inside their beloved Jake. And then, Jake sighed inwardly... then there was Heath Ledger. Oh Heath... whose tonguing skills were that of a lover; gentle but firm and knowing. Reese Witherspoon had been impressive for a beginner but Jake didn't know how to express to her that it was man-tongue he truly yearned for.

"Kirsten never rimmed you, did she?" Reese suddenly asked with an eyebrow raised, shaking Jake out of his erotic reverie.

"Uh, no. No!" he anwsered.

She smiled. "Good. Than it was something new and special just between us." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Fuck, thought Jake. She really sounds like she's falling in love with me. While Jake had tried to recapture the Godlike, sexual intensity he'd had about himself in the past, when Reese came into the picture—roughly two years ago—it seemed to have just vanished... or was maybe just sedated. However, his beloved dildo and now this surprise rimming from his girlfriend had stirred Jake's dormant sex god.

He glanced over at Reese and smiled. "Let me just take care of you now, okay." Reese giggled as Jake grabbed her and rolled them onto the bed, quickly pulling off her shirt and then his own. "I want to return the favor," he breathed.

And he did; focusing hard on Reese's clitoris—he preferred not to think too much about this part of her anatomy and only touched it to please her—and she came in no time at all. Once it was all over, it didn't take long for Reese to fall asleep, tucked safely in her boyfriend's warm, muscular arms.

* * *

Jake glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:46 am. Shit. As soon as he could tell Reese was fast asleep he'd slid out from beneath her grasp—as he did every night spent in bed with her—and rolled Reese fully onto the other side of the bed. He took a moment to tuck the covers carefully around her small body before sliding back over and doing the same to himself. Lying full on his back now, he stared up at the ceiling.

Their increasingly domestic circumstances had become so stifling and relentless that Jake was starting to worry he'd soon start to resent the very presence of Reese and her children—for imprisoning him in a gilded cage and forcing him onto the hamster wheel of Hollywood couple-dom. While meanwhile, Jake was sure his boys were out smoking pot and shagging like crazed weasels. While Jake's own sexual appetite was once insatiable, he, Jacob Benjamin Gyllenhaal, considered himself a gentleman and felt it rather inappropriate to expose a relatively chaste girl like Reese Witherspoon to his wanton nature deliberately.