Getting What You Wish For

Jack pulled me closer to him, and I could feel him getting hard again, feel his growing erection as it pressed against my stomach and clit. I didn't resist when he rolled me onto my back. I remember looking up into his face and smiling, thinking he was going to masturbate me again. The smile froze on my face when he suddenly mounted me and began roughly to force my legs to open wider.

I don't know how to explain what I felt, but for some reason, I suddenly didn't want to. "Jack . . . Jack, stop! What are you doing?"

"I'm going to fuck you, Miranda, that's what I'm doing," he said.

"You've been teasing and playing with me for a long time, and I decided to give you . . . to give us what we really want."

He leaned forward and covered me with his upper torso as he guided his long, thick cock inside my resisting pussy. The more I struggled and tried to get him off me, the more excited he became. Jack was a big, muscular man, his body conditioned from a lifetime of working out of doors, and after only a brief time, I was physically exhausted and stopped trying to fight him.

"That's my girl," he said his warm breath against my ear sending unwanted chills through my body.

"I want you so bad Miranda . . ." he said in a dry, raspy voice.

"Let Daddy, take care of his little girl," was the last thing he said before his thrusting increased in speed and depth, and he exploded inside me, drenching the walls of my unprotected pussy with his cum.

"Yes, oh fuck Randa . . . yeeesssss."

Laying there under Jack, I fought the urge to cry . . . after all, what good would that have done? I had finally gotten what I wanted hadn't I? Having survived the last year or so with a sexually demanding ex-husband and an increasingly abusive marriage, I had convinced myself that I would never again be submissive to a man, sexually or otherwise. I had never expected to meet a man like Jack Reynolds. Getting to know Jack had changed all of that and despite my protests to the contrary, I realized I wanted Jack, and I knew this would not be the only time that he and I would be together. The way he looked at me, touched me, that sexually anxious, slightly uncomfortable way he made me feel could not be denied.

*****

One night as we lay in bed after making love, he quietly, hesitantly said, "When I saw you that day in the drive way of the house, memories of your Grandmother, of Eleanor came flooding back, and for a moment I felt that familiar achiness between my legs that I only felt for your Grandmother."

I looked at him with questioning eyes.

From things he had confided before, I knew Jack had been very close to my now deceased Grandparents; They had played an important role in his life since he and my Dad were boys. It was only after my Grandfather had died that he understood how attracted to my Grandmother he was and obviously had been throughout the time he had known our family.

"God, she had to be at least twenty years older than me, but after all of those years, I still felt a strong lust for her; Hell, I'd get a hard-on whenever I was around her," he said with a wistful look in his eyes.

"You're just like she was, small but athletic body, dark wavy shoulder length hair, thick lashed green eyes, and me always wanting to bury my hard cock inside you," he said unembarrassed and unashamed as he lowered his mouth to my nipple and began to tease it with his tongue.

Hearing him describe her, I suddenly remembered how once when he was on top of me, slowly, purposefully stroking into me that he had mumbled in a barely audible voice "you remind me of her . . . I miss her."

"Maybe that's why I was so attracted to you," he said.

*****

I lay there under him, his hard cock still inside me hot and throbbing. I could only stare at him as I tried to take in and understand what he was saying, confessing. Strangely, I wasn't repulsed or upset by what he said, I think I understood why he had been acting the way he had. In a way I guess he had such strong feelings for her and now felt himself attracted to me, he felt guilty as if in some way he was cheating on her.

"You were sleeping with my Grandmother, weren't you Jack?" I asked him directly.

He gave a self-conscious throaty laugh and said, "no . . . no, I mean I didn't . . . not right away. I liked and respected your Grandfather, and it wasn't until almost two years after he died that Eleanor and I finally got to know each other that way. Despite being twenty years my senior, your Eleanor was still a very attractive woman, and in all honesty, I would have gotten with her sooner if she'd have let me."

Though I had suspected this, hearing him say it still surprised me.

"Don't look at me like that, he said with feigned insult. Even as your Grandmother grew older, the difference in our ages was never an issue. Eleanor remained a vital, attractive and sensual woman who was lonely and who needed the attentions that a man, that I could give her."

*****

I think I loved him even more after hearing him describing my Grammy; how he felt about her and how in a way those feelings were now directed toward me. My clit ached for his touch when he confessed how at first it had been a struggle not giving in to the sometimes overwhelming urge to push his swollen, throbbing cock deep into my pussy because he thought it would be a betrayal of his feelings for Grammy.

Though it was clear to me that Jack sexually desired me and took obvious pleasure in being with me, I am thankful those secret feelings for my Grandmother did not deter him from persisting, from finding comfort between my legs and showing me how good it could be between a man and woman.