I did not stay at Jessi’s apartment for long on Saturday morning. As I had sensed by her tone of voice in the shower, the quirky blonde had withdrawn following the rather rough oral sex in which we had engaged. It was as if some part of her had shut down.
I had seen Jessi do this before. Over the course of the just ended semester, she had withdrawn a few times during class, usually after answering a question or making a comment. And of course, she had done so after I kissed her last Monday evening, but I had not expected it now, not after the evening and morning we had experienced together. I began to worry that what had happened in the shower was too much for her, despite the fact she instigated it.
Before I left, I told her that I had a very nice time, and she mumbled her agreement. But when I went to hug her, she had turned away, and I ended up just putting my arm around her shoulder and giving a quick squeeze. I did not even try to kiss the young blonde, since her face was turned away and her eyes were downcast.
The only remotely affectionate response from Jessi came just as I was about to leave. I had stopped in the open door, turned around, and blown her a kiss. I felt a little silly doing it – I had not blown anyone a kiss since I was a child – but Jessi’s response was worth it. The pretty blonde cocked her head to the side, and her vivid blue eyes flashed as she fixed them on mine and held the stare a normal Jessi length, which of course meant awkwardly too long for everyone else.
An almost smile quavered on her lips, and then she brought two fingers up, puckered up, and blew a kiss back at me. I winked at Jessi and smiled, and she dropped her eyes and shut her apartment door, although I was quite sure I saw her almost smile turn into a real one before the door closed.
The rest of that Saturday was an odd day for me. I cannot clearly recall much of what I did for the rest of the morning or that afternoon, but the day passed relatively quickly. I know I went home, ran on my treadmill, did some housework, and responded to several emails, but the details of all of that were unimportant. What occupied my mind was Jessi, and to a lesser extent, Jessika.
My thoughts on Jessi focused on a mix of fantastic and troubling memories, with the fantastic memories holding a slight edge. However, even though I pondered many aspects of my relationship with the socially awkward twenty-year-old woman, what I kept coming back to, even when I did not want to, was her admission about being bisexual, as well as her use of fantasy scenarios involving a threesome with another woman to arouse me. And when I thought about the latter, I thought of Jessika as that other woman.
Of course, I had no evidence at all Jessika would be open to such a thing. Furthermore, I had some doubts as to whether Jessi would actually be agreeable herself if it really came to that. However, even if the blonde turned out to be interested in pursuing a threesome, I absolutely knew that Jessika, who Jessi saw as a rival, would not be an acceptable third. Despite this knowledge, it was such a wonderful scenario for me that my mind kept returning to it throughout the day.
As evening approached, I tried texting both Jessika and Jessi. Jessi did not respond at all. At about 8:30, when I was just finishing up dinner, Jessika texted me.
“OMG. Blind date from hell!” she wrote.
“Sounds bad,” I replied.
“Doubt he could tell you my eye-color – just staring at my boobs,” she complained.
“I thought you like guys looking at your breasts,” I teased her, adding a wink emoticon at the end.
“I have no problem with looking or even salivating. But I do have eyes!” she clarified, a graphic of a frowning face following her text.
“And luscious lips,” I added.
“YOU would notice my lips!” she shot back, and this time the image that followed was of a face winking.
“I do not know what you mean,” I texted her back.
“Yes you do,” she wrote, and this time her text included a graphic of a pair of red lips, the same or similar to what Jessi had sent to me a couple of days earlier. However, I did not have to ponder what Jessika meant by sending the graphic, the way I had when Jessi had sent the same image.
“By the way, are you texting with your date sitting there?” I asked.
“No. In the ladies room. Can’t face going back,” she answered.
“Did you drive or did he?” I inquired.
“Separate, thank God!” she texted. “I am going to try to leave ASAP. Trying to think of excuse.”
“Good luck,” I sent.
“Thanks. Will need it,” she responded.
I did not hear anything else from Jessika until nearly 11:00pm when my cell phone buzzed with an incoming call from the sexy brunette. I was just about to go to bed, so I lay down as I answered the phone.
“Hey Jessika,” I greeted her when I had accepted the call.
“Hi Mark,” she replied. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to hear a friendly voice.”
“It is not a problem,” I kuşadası escort assured her. “So, what happened?”
“Well, I was going to tell him my dinner hadn’t set well in my stomach,” Jessika told me, “but my friend Jenna, the one who set us up, texted him while I was in the bathroom and suggested we meet up with her and some others for drinks.”
“And you agreed?” I asked.
“Yes, like an idiot,” Jessika affirmed. “I thought it’d be rude not to go. I spent the next two hours either trying to engage him in any type of meaningful conversation or listening to Jenna tell me how great a guy he is, and how much she just knew I needed sex since the divorce, and how it’d been a while for him too after a bad breakup, and how we could help each other out.”
“You are kidding.” I responded.
“No. I wish I was,” Jessika sighed. “I really think she set up the whole thing to try to get me to hook up with him. She even said one of the reasons she set me up with him is because he likes big boobs.”
“Well, you do have a great rack,” I said, a little self-conscience with my word choice, but I thought it would give Jessika a laugh. And it did – I heard Jessika snort as she laughed.
“I never thought I’d hear you use ‘rack’ in that context, Mark,” she said, when she had stopped laughing.
“I thought it might amuse you,” I told her.
“It did – it did,” she replied. “And I needed a laugh.”
“Of course, it is true about your, um, your, um, breasts,” I stammered, suddenly tongue tied.
“What’s true about my boobs, Mark?” the sexy brunette inquired with an innocent tone.
“They are fantastic,” I responded.
After a few seconds of silence, Jessika said, “You’re making me blush, Mark Warner.”
“It is true,” I said.
“Thank you,” Jessika breathed. “Your cock’s fantastic too.”
I lay there, my phone to my ear, my mouth open, dumfounded. I felt my cheeks heat up. I did not know how to respond.
“Ummm, thank you,” I finally managed.
“It’s true,” she said. “I was thinking about it tonight – I wanted to call you to see if I could come over, but then I let myself be sidetracked by Jenna’s shit.”
Latching on to the change of subject, I said, “Do you really think she was trying to get you to sleep with him?”
“Yes,” Jessika sighed. “I think that’s exactly what she was doing. She didn’t let up until I told her I had a fuck buddy. Then she started asking all kinds of questions. That’s when I left. Thank God I’d driven myself.”
“That was good,” I agreed. “So, who is this ‘fuck buddy’ you mentioned? Anyone I know?”
“Oh yes,” Jessika chuckled. “You know him quite well.”
“He is a lucky man,” I noted.
“If I weren’t so mentally drained,” Jessika yawned, “He would get really lucky tonight.”
What I could not tell Jessika was that I was relieved that she had not asked to come over. While I would have liked to have seen my curvy brunette friend with benefits, I knew I was likely not ready for such activities yet.
“Well, maybe you will be up for seeing your ‘fuck buddy’ tomorrow night, or perhaps on Monday,” I suggested.
“I think I might head up to my parents’ place on Monday for Christmas, and maybe stay through New Year’s,” Jessika informed me. “I’ve not been there for the holidays the last few years because of my ex. I talked to them yesterday, and they’d love for me to come visit.”
“That sounds nice. I think spending the holidays with your family sounds like something you need to do, Jessika,” I agreed with her, but in truth I was disappointed. I had not formed any definite plans, but I had been hoping for some time with Jessika over the holidays.
“Yeah, getting away sounds fantastic right now,” she agreed. “But before I go, I do want you to come over to unwrap your present.”
“You bought me a present?” I asked, concerned. I had nothing for her.
“Well, I didn’t buy it,” she admitted, “and you have unwrapped it before, but I think you will still like it.”
I chuckled as I realized that she was talking about herself, so I responded, “Well, I will bring a present for you to unwrap as well.”
“If it’s what I think it is,” she purred, “I guarantee I’ll love it. In fact, I’ll have to give it lots and lots of kisses.”
“No objection here, as long as you let me lick mine,” I teased.
“Fuck, yes,” she breathed.
There was a moment of silence as I thought about what to say next. However, before I could say anything else, Jessika spoke again.
“We need to stop – I’m getting worked up, and I’m not sure I’m up to it tonight.”
“It is fine, Jessika,” I assured her. I was agreeable with forgoing phone sex just then, given that I did not think my body would respond no matter what the stimulation. “I am tired as well.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she said, and then she yawned again. “I better go. I’m going to fall asleep on the phone.”
“Okay. Good night, Jessika,” I told her.
“Good night, Mark,” she replied. “I can’t wait to unwrap my present tomorrow.”
“Neither can I, Squeaker,” I responded, although I was not sure she was still on the line.
***
A little before 6:30 the next evening, I stood at Jessika’s door, stamping me feet. The temperature had plummeted overnight, and it had not reached higher than the single digits all day. Even the few seconds I had been out in the open as I walked from the parking lot to the door of Jessika’s apartment had let the bitter cold seep into my extremities.
The curvy brunette opened her door and pulled me quickly into the warmth of her apartment. As it had on my prior visit, her place smelled of vanilla, although this time the vanilla smell seemed to be mixed with cinnamon. Looking around, I saw several candles burning. I did not see the massage table, however, and while I cannot say I had come over looking for a massage, I had vaguely hoped that one, complete with happy ending, might have been on the table for the evening.
As for my hostess, the lovely Jessika was dressed in sweats, but I observed right away that her own fit her much better than those I had loaned her a few days prior. Her sweatpants, which were a dark gray, looked almost painted on her, they followed her curves so well. Her lighter gray sweatshirt was tight and made from relatively thin fleece, so it hugged the curves of her torso well. And of course, since it was Jessika, the neck of her sweatshirt had a slit that went down far enough to reveal a few inches of her cleavage.
The buxom brunette smiled at me and gave me a big hug. I noticed during the hug that the blonde highlights were still apparent in her chocolate brown hair, but it was back to its gentle, wavy curls rather than straight. Personally, I thought the wavy hair, which I suspected was her natural look, fit her much better than the straight hair.
After the hug, Jessika led me to her kitchen table, upon which our dinner was waiting. As I sat down, I could not help but recall that the last time I had sat at this seat at this table, my sexy hostess had been on her hands and knees underneath the table while she fellated me. It was a great memory, but it made it a bit difficult to concentrate on the present. And as my mind was focused on the memory, I completely missed something Jessika had said, and I had to ask her to repeat it.
“I was just saying that dinner is a chili-seared chicken breast with beans and rice. It was my grandmother’s recipe,” she told me, and if she wondered what had distracted me for a moment, she did not ask.
I was impressed with the dinner. The chicken looked as if it could have come from a restaurant kitchen. I was somewhat concerned that something identified as “chili-seared” might be too spicy, however. When my first bite of the chicken sent my hand fumbling for a large red cup sitting in front of me, I knew my concern had been valid. As I took a big gulp from the opaque red cup, I was surprised to find that the liquid in it was cold milk.
“It is spicy,” I coughed, after the milk had cooled my burning mouth.
“My grandmother was from Mexico, Mark. I wrote about it in my descriptive essay, when I described her kitchen.” Jessika reminded me, the innocent look she was trying to maintain on her face ruined by the smirk that was threatening to break out.
“Uh huh,” I replied, and I took another bite, smaller this time, of her grandmother’s chicken, followed by a drink of milk.
“It is quite tasty,” I told her, taking another gulp of the milk as the burn lingered.
“The milk helps cool it, something about how it reacts with the oil from the peppers,” Jessika informed me, as she followed her chicken with a drink from a brown bottle of what I thought must be beer.
“The beer seems to work for you,” I quipped.
“I’m used to spicy food, Mark,” she replied. “Milk’s better for you. Besides, I didn’t figure you for a beer drinker, or much of a drinker at all.”
“Why is that?” I asked, although she was right. Other than the occasional glass of wine with dinner, and then only when I was with other people, I did not drink alcoholic beverages – I had never liked the taste of the alcohol itself.
“You had no beer at your place, which in my experience is unheard of for an unmarried man,” she began. “And, you barely drank any wine when I was over on Wednesday.”
“You are right,” I confirmed. “Very observant.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Warner,” she teased, batting her eyes at me.
“You are silly, Squeaker,” I laughed. “And cute.”
“Yes I’m a silly girl,” she conceded. “But don’t you dare call me cute again! And no more this ‘Squeaker’ shit either.”
“Ok, Squeaker,” I laughed.
Jessika flipped me off, but the smile on her face and what she said next belayed the gesture.
“I’m also a very happy girl,” She proclaimed. “Not only am I getting to go see my family for the holidays without worrying about what the asshole I was married to might say or do, before I go I’m getting to spend the night with a guy I like and respect, who likes and respects me back, and who I plan on fucking the moment we’re done with dinner.”
I felt myself blush as I quickly took a drink of milk, hoping to hide my embarrassment.
“Uh, um,” was all I was able to articulate, so I took a big bite of chicken, which set my mouth on fire, forcing me to gulp down more milk.
“I think I am done,” I announced, when my mouth was cooled off enough to speak.
“What a coincidence, so am I,” the sexy brunette grinned.
I was in favor of moving to the bedroom, or the couch, or wherever she wanted straight away, but Jessika told me she wanted to clean up the kitchen and the table a bit first. I offered to help her, but she would not let me. Instead, she suggested I go watch TV for a few minutes. I was really not interested in watching TV, but I went to the living room anyway and sat down on her couch.
As I sat flipping through channels, my mind wandered away from Jessika and toward thoughts of Jessi. Other than some very short text messages during the day, all in response to texts I had sent her, we had not communicated since yesterday morning. I wondered what she was doing, and what her holiday plans were. I had not specifically asked her that yet, so I resolved to do so in the morning. Suddenly, I was pulled from my thoughts about my blonde ingénue by a sexy, curvaceous brunette plopping down in my lap.
“All done,” she announced, before she put her arms around my neck and kissed me. As I kissed her back, pushing my tongue between her soft, full lips, I reached behind her and grabbed her curvy bottom, giving each cheek a squeeze. Jessika moaned softly and our kiss intensified. I could feel the firmness of her large, augmented breasts pushing against me, and my penis responded quicker than I had anticipated it would. When our lips broke apart, we were both breathing heavier than normal.
Looking into my eyes, Jessika bit her bottom lip before she asked, “Do you want to unwrap your present here or in the bedroom?”
“Here is great,” I replied, and I reached down and grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt.
Jessika raised her arms, and soon her shirt was on the floor and I was staring at a black lace bra that, while doing an admirable job producing incredible cleavage, was not opaque enough to hide her large brown areolas and thick nipples. I leaned forward and in turn mouthed each of her clearly hard nipples through the delicate lace. Jessika moaned and clasped my head to her breasts.
After several seconds, I moved my head up and kissed and licked the exposed skin of her cleavage. Jessika’s moans continued, and she ran her fingers through my hair. I reached around behind her, searching for the clasp on her bra. The curvaceous brunette shook her head and moved mine away from the feast that was her soft skin.
“Uh uh,” she moaned, and she put her hands between her breasts and unhooked the bra. The two halves fell away to each side as her magnificent breasts dropped slightly and spread apart in their newfound freedom. Taking one in each hand, I began massaging them as I my lips, tongue and teeth teased first on hard, thick nipple, and then the other.
After a while, Jessika pulled her breasts from my hands and mouth. She drew my head up, put her hands on either side of my face, and kissed me. Then she stood, pushed her magnificent breasts together, and winked at me. Pinching her own nipples, she slowly, sensuously licked her lips before letting her breasts drop and turning around.
With her back to me, the Jessika began to wiggle her tight sweatpants down over her deliciously round behind. As she teasingly inched the pants lower and lower, I saw that she was wearing a black thong. Once her pants were low enough so that her entire bottom was exposed, Jessika removed them the rest of the way, all without looking back at me. She next reached up and ran her hands through her hair, which allowed me to see the swell of her breasts on either side of her torso. My breathing had quickened again, and I fought the urge to grab the curvy brunette and just have my way with her.
Dropping her long, soft, dark hair, which she then slowly, sensuously shook so that it shimmied across her shoulders and upper back, Jessika lowered her arms and crossed them against her chest, which pushed and spread out the round flesh of her breasts so that even more of the curved sides was visible from behind. She then wiggled her whole body, starting with her head and ending with her shapely calves.
I groaned and thought, “Damn, she knows how to tease! She must have made a fortune as a striper,” as I reached out and grabbed a butt cheek in each of my hands. When I did so, Jessika looked back at me over her shoulder, flashed a mischievous grin, and bent over, pushing her rear end back at me as she did so.
“You are too fucking hot,” I growled, as I pulled my right hand back and gave her rounded ass three sharp swats, causing the succulent, slightly tanned flesh to quiver and shake. Jessika let out a little yelp with the first one, then grunted in time with each of the next two.