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“A little. I know they’re having a great time. They’re with Lucas’s parents on this great cross country road trip. We speak by web-cam almost every night. But honestly, it’s great to have just Lucas and I. We haven’t had that for so long. It’s almost like a second honeymoon.”

“The X rated version is that we met at college and it was
lust
at first sight. The love came later.”

“There’s got to be more to it than that.”

She tilted her head as if weighing up what exactly to tell me, “My sorority was naughty. We had a very bad reputation. Wild girls.” She ran a hand through her wet curls, shaking out the water.

“Sounds good.”

“We had an auction. A slave auction of the single girls. We each did an act and guys bid for us. Whoever bid highest could own us for 24 hours.”

“What was your act?”

“I did a strip tease. Burlesque style. Big Feather fans and paste on nipple tassels. Lucas loved it. He was the first face I saw when I came out on the make shift stage. Actually he was the only face I saw. After I saw him no one else mattered. When he wants something, really wants something, he gets this look, it’s so intense…” she gave a little shiver, “… as soon as I saw that look I knew I was a goner. He bid for me and didn’t leave my bed for 48 hours. Well past the 24 hours he’d paid for.”

I felt the blush. It came up my neck, heating a streak all the way up to my hair line. She laughed. Which made the blush worse. Embarrassed, I looked down at my feet, distorted by the water.

“Oh honey. Look at you, blushing over my goodie drawer. So innocent. And yet…”

I looked up at her waiting for her to finish her sentence. When I met her eyes she said, “…and yet. Not so innocent. You’re a voyeur. Aren’t you Jacob?”

“I saw you watching us. I knew Lucas hadn’t seen. I was happy to let you watch. I’ve been a voyeur myself. I know the pleasure of watching. I noticed though, when he was spanking me. You were watching him. Not me. Weren’t you?”

I nodded again, she frowned, I knew she wanted to hear the words so I said it, I said, “Yes. I watched him.”

“I checked the next time. I set it up for you—for you both. I’d seen Lucas watching you. Seen him this summer, standing at the window watching you work in the yard. He had a look about him as he watched. An intensity. So I knew. I knew what he wanted but he’d never tell me. So I had to force it.”

“You like that,” I said.

“What? Forcing him? Making him accept his desires? Embrace his kinks? Yes I do. I do like that. I’ve been doing it to him since the moment we met.”

“Good.” Mrs. D pulled herself up to stand on the ledge, water trailed off her curves. She stepped over the rocks and out of the pool. I watched her. Body glistening and wet.

“There’s a towel there, on the sun lounge.” She pointed behind her. “Get out whenever you’re ready. I have to get back to work. So you’ll have to see yourself out.”

“Yes Mrs. D.”

“I’ve changed my mind….”

My heart stopped. The fear that struck me at her words must have shown on my face because she laughed and said, “…no, no, no. Not about
that
Jacob. I’ve changed my mind about you calling me Alissa. I like the way you say Mrs. D. It kinda turns me on.”

She turned away and walked toward the glass doors that led into the kitchen. About half way there she stopped and looked back to face me.

“So for the next three days I want you to think about it. What you want. What you really want. Because you’ll show me. I’ll make you.” She turned back away and took two steps, stopped again and then faced me.

“I think the first thing I’ll show you is the joy of anticipation. For the next three days you won’t come. You can touch yourself. In fact, I insist that you tease yourself. But you will not come. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mrs. D.”

“Oh, yes. I
do
like that.”

Chapter Six

I didn’t know why I followed her instructions, but I felt compelled to do exactly as she said. She wouldn’t have known if I slipped. If I’d jerked off, once, twice—hell, even fifty times. She wouldn’t have known—but still, I did as she told me.

I teased myself. I lay in bed and stroked myself almost to the point of no return. Over and over. Pinching the root of my cock hard to stem the tide of cum. I did not let go. No matter how close I got I did not finish it.

Because she told me not to. I wanted to do what she said.

After the first day I started to like it—the burning need without release. Soon my hand was not enough, I wanted to test myself, tease myself more and more. I rang Mary-Jane, to up the stakes. To see just how much I could take. She’d forgiven me—or at least herself—for the other night. She sounded almost eager to see me, breathlessly asking what I had in store. I didn’t have anything in mind when I called her, other than the desire to tease myself. The only plan I had was not to come, Mary-Jane could come all she wanted.

That’s what gave me the idea. What I’d do to her—to myself. How many times could I stand to make sweet little Mary-Jane come without my own release?

We started the night at the Big Gulp, surrounded by high school kids and young families. Everyone who didn’t, or couldn’t go to a bar on Saturday night. I chose the place on purpose.

She seemed partly confused, partly relieved, when she saw where we were going. While she had no idea what I’d planned she knew that she was going to go further than she had the other night. She knew this was no ordinary date. As soon as she got in the truck I made her remove her panties. She shivered as she slipped them over her feet. I knew she wasn’t afraid, wasn’t cold—she was shivering with anticipation. Her skirt came down past her knees. She was in no danger of flashing anyone, but it made her feel exposed and I liked that—so did she, from the gleam in her eyes.

She looked so good. Just the way I wanted her to, in a candy pink sweater and matching skirt. Her blond hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. No one who saw her would suspect that she was anything other than a good girl.

I led her to a booth in the back. I slid in first and then pulled her beside me, so that she was on my left. As soon as she was nestled beside me I started.

While chatting about my day, telling her about how Mr. Grey’s dog tried to eat me, my hand slid under her skirt. Up her thigh, inch by slow inch.

I was rewarded by the little hitch in her breath that I loved so much. She said nothing, just sat upright, shoulders tight and tensed.

I kept talking. Inane shit, anyone who eavesdropped would’ve thought I was the most boring guy in the history of dating. The whole time I had my hand under her skirt. Two fingers hooked in her pussy and my thumb playing on her clit. Around us swirled the sounds of Saturday night at the Big Gulp—country music, laughter and the clink of cutlery on plates. I circled a thumb on her plump clit and felt the sweet contraction of her pussy. It thrilled me to be surrounded by all that wholesome goodness while fingering her wet slit. It gave me pleasure to pretend. To hide in plain sight. I spoke in a deliberate dull monotone while I increased the pressure on her clit. Her thighs locked tight around my hand and I knew she was close. When I felt that delicious clench of muscles and my hand drenched in the juices of her orgasm I stopped talking.

She sat. Breathing deeply, obviously trying not to pant. Her face and chest flushed with the signs of her pleasure.

Leaning in close I breathed in her ear, “That’s one. Drink your milkshake.”

After leaving Big Gulp we went to the Cinema House. I bought tickets to the next available showing, not caring what we saw. I had no intentions of watching the movie.

The Cinema House was old style, an upper level balcony and rows of seating sitting on the flat below. Everyone took the balcony. You could see better there and it was cooler. A favorite with necking High School kids.

The seats I chose were on the flat, all the way up the back in the lower section. You could hardly see the screen from these seats. Unless the cinema was packed no one ever chose to sit there.

I think she expected me to start as soon as it was dark. I didn’t. I had learnt a little from Mrs. D about the power of waiting—the aching build of anticipation. Several times I stretched my arm out and gently brushed the side of her breast. She shivered, and I heard a little gasp, but she said nothing, did nothing.

About thirty minutes into the film, in the middle of some big noisy car chase I did it. I dropped to my knees, flipped up her skirt and pushed her legs apart. Hooking her legs over my shoulders I sank my face in her cunt, already fragrant and wet from the last orgasm. I licked her clean and then set about making her come again. It didn’t take long; her clit was swollen and hard. Ripe and ready. I latched my lips around it and sucked in a steady rhythm.

She didn’t keep silent this time. I heard her cry out—over the top of the gun shots, the squeal of cars and the shouts of the actors. Still I didn’t stop. Not until I felt that sweet clench of muscles against my lips. As soon as she’d come I got up and sat back down in my seat. My cock was so hard the buckle of my belt was biting into the swollen head. It hurt, but I didn’t adjust it. I just took it. Took the pain.

After she’d stopped shuddering and had adjusted her skirt I leaned in close and said, “That’s two. Kiss me. Taste yourself on my mouth.”

She liked that. In an instant her mouth was on me devouring until my face was completely licked clean of her juices.

I let her sit for another half hour before I flicked up her skirt and played with her clit again. She tried to push it down, cover my hand but I didn’t let her. No one could see her here, but there was still the risk. I needed her spread legged, cunt out. Exposed. This time I made her fuck herself with her fingers while I grasped her little clit between a finger and thumb and pinched it until she came.

Barely five minutes and I was rewarded with climax number three.

When we left the cinema she gripped my arm, her legs weren’t holding her up so well. But she didn’t protest. She said nothing. I figured her to be a little shell shocked.

I drove her home. Almost certainly she thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. I had one more plan, for her and for me. The climax of all the anticipation.

She lived with her parents, but I knew they were out of town. Only her sister was home. All the lights were out, except for one shining on the porch—which meant her sister was either out or asleep. We wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. One of only a handful of words she’d spoken the whole night.

I waited until she reached for the door handle before I stopped her. Gripping her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make her stop.

I unbuckled my belt and let down my zip, finally releasing my aching cock. From my pocket I took a condom and slid it over my shaft. I was so turned on it was almost painful to touch. I grit my teeth as I pulled down the latex sheath. She watched silent the whole time. I reached for the lever under me and slid the whole bench seat back as far as it would go.