The Last Jar--Tim and Grace Ch. 01

She was nearing her next peak, and pushed her hips down on him even harder. He thrust upward at the same time. He wanted to time it so that they came together.

He got his wish. When his rod started to jerk inside her, he felt her cunt squeeze him. "I'm coming again...humph!" he said. Tim felt his cock leap inside her, filling her with his spunk. He grunted, jerked and thrust into her pussy with the same energy he had shown the first time they made love. Meanwhile, her pussy was clasping his cock, rippling along its length, pulling more and more love juice from him.

"Oh, Tim, I'm coming again..." her voice trailed off as her pussy took control. She slid up and down on his cock, gyrating wildly above him. What a lover he was! She couldn't resist how he turned her on.

She milked him dry, then slumped onto his chest, exhausted. She was breathless.

"My God, you sure know how to please a woman." She hadn't been so thoroughly satisfied for years.

"Thanks, but you did most of the work." He was amazed at her orgasmic ability. Most women weren't able to have a multi-orgasmic experience like hers—especially on a first date. They wanted to establish some sort of relationship before opening their legs—which he understood. The fact that Grace made love to him tonight was a puzzle. He chalked it up to luck (his), loneliness (hers), and being from out of town. Funny how a hotel room turns a woman on. Is it the clean sheets? The anonymity? Or is it that it's a new venue that lets you suspend your ordinary life for awhile?

He thought it was a combination of all of those factors. The way she responded to his body was about what he expected. Most of the women he dated liked that he was powerfully built—the baser instincts still run deep in humans, despite the social veneer we all wear. Indoor plumbing, clothes, airplanes and automobiles don't compensate for the hunter-gatherer that is deep within the male, and the hearth keeper who craves protection buried inside every female.

In Grace's case, finding a man larger than her was almost impossible. To have him be a good lover as well as gigantic was just a bonus. But she wasn't going to modify her life for a man. She wasn't ever going to do that again. This has already been a good trip, she learned more about the case, and had some fun to boot. So she flatly rejected the idea that she'd get all dewy-eyed and plan on shacking up with him, leaving her career behind. She wasn't beholden to anyone now, and she liked it that way.

Grace lit a cigarette. "Want one?" She offered the pack to him.

"Nope. I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself." She lit up, took a deep drag. That was always the most satisfying cigarette—after meals and with her morning soda didn't compare to the cigarette after great sex.

Tim said, "Thanks for making love to me. You are a tigress in bed." He was still in shock at how many orgasms she had experienced.

"You're no slouch yourself, you know." She was still quivering after their multiple climaxes. She hoped she could keep her mind on her job tomorrow. It helped that she was a smart cop; that wouldn't be a problem, she thought.

But having him spend the night was definitely not the right idea.

"I hate to be a party pooper, but you can't spend the night. I need my beauty sleep." Grace wanted to make the ground rules clear.

"No problem. Want to get together tomorrow after the interview?" Tim was testing the waters, to see if she would be staying another night. He'd welcome a chance to make love to her again before she left for Seattle.

"Let's see how it goes." Grace didn't want to commit to anything. Trouble was, her body did. She immediately projected another lovemaking session for the next day. Tim noticed. "You want to, don't you?" He saw how her nipple stiffened while they were talking about tomorrow's schedule.

Damn it! She hated this! "You're a good detective, detective." She continued. "Well, I don't want to lie and say I don't want to see you. Besides, we'll have to compare notes after the interview is over with."

"In other words, yes. Good." Tim would find something for them to do between the interview and the bed. But the bed was definitely on the agenda.

She was happy about that.

Tim continued. "Tomorrow, I'll pick you up and we can go to the precinct together. I don't know who's coming to the interview, but the Secret Witness tip seems like a real good one. Woman called in, mid-20s, had three of the four markers we were looking for. I think she's one of the ones that were in the car. She might be able to shed some light on the way things went down."

"Good that you've gotten a decent tip. Most of mine are bullshit."

"Same here. I'd guess 90% of them are just looking for attention."

"Or think we'll pay a reward for reading the news. I can't count the number of 'tips' I get where the caller just reads the news story. They don't even try to mix up the report. Just read it word for word." She lit another cigarette, blew a smoke ring, chuckled.

"I know. Or they tell you about their dead cat or something equally stupid." Tim laughed.

"Or want to know where the reward money is!" Grace guffawed.

The couple continued to trade war stories and jokes for another hour. They were enjoying each others' company without the overlay of sexual tension and heart-stopping desire. Grace checked her watch—12:30. It was later than she thought. Despite the lateness, she was adamant about not letting him stay. "You know, you have to leave soon. I'm getting tired."

"I know. I was holding out, hoping you'd change your mind."

"Nope. You have to leave." She wasn't budging.

"Even if I do this?" Tim reached for her breast, teased her nipple into a point.

"Dddon't, I...need to...sleep..." Grace wasn't making a very good case for sleep.

"After we're done, then you can sleep." He kissed her, devouring her mouth. She responded immediately, rubbing against his chest. He moved down her body, still kissing her, his tongue trailing across her belly, teasing her navel. He felt her torso quiver as he moved past her hips.

Grace was panting now. "Please...put your tongue inside me..." She maneuvered herself to give him easy access to her damp center.

Tim licked her pussy from top to bottom, then swirled his tongue inside her vagina. At the same time, he tugged on her clit with his thumb and forefinger, making her twitch with passion once again. He sucked some of her juice out of her pussy, deposited the lubricant onto her clit. He sucked it gently, feeling it grow inside his mouth. Then, he slid two fingers inside, again feeling her G-spot swelling.

Now that she knew what would happen, she surrendered to his mouth and fingers. She could feel the buildup of fluid inside, knew she would squirt, wanted to squirt into his mouth. And when she felt her orgasm begin, her vagina clamped down hard on his fingers; just a few seconds later, her fluid came spilling out. Tim quickly switched positions, drank deeply as her come filled his mouth.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" She was undulating on the bed again, out of control. Her torso bucked with abandon as she thrashed under his pleasuring tongue. At last, she calmed down, looked around, eyes focused again. "You're a stud..." she couldn't form any more words.

Tim wasn't going to fuck her again tonight—he was content to make her come with his mouth. There was always tomorrow.

"Think of me when you go to sleep tonight." Tim collected his clothes, got dressed.

"I will, I will." She lit a cigarette, her hands shaking as she attempted to calm down. She wouldn't be masturbating after he left—all she needed now was sleep.

Tim sat on the bed, watched TV for a few minutes. He muted the commercial, heard soft snoring behind him. Grace was asleep. He turned off the TV, covered her up, kissed her lightly. She curled up, turned over.

As he left the room, he noted her room number in his phone. He'd need it to get in touch with her for the interview.

A good night. Time for a drink and bed.

Then we get to talk to the tipster.