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Full Story: Hearts of Darkness (w. ShadowOfDesire)

Jack thought Miranda’s lips, fingers and sweet little tongue all felt absolutely wonderful; she clearly knew what she was doing, but even better Jack could again feel the care and effort this beautiful woman was putting into pleasuring him. And that made his heart lurch just a little bit more. But despite how Jack’s body and heart were responding, and they definitely were responding, his mind didn’t melt into a pile of goo; it never did. He’d thought about that when he was younger and now just accepted it as being a quirk of his personality, and sometimes also his “secret weapon.” That quirk had confused some gals and irritated the crap out of others, sometimes to the point of them insinuating (or just outright telling him) that they thought he had a problem or “an issue.” Jack knew that was just their way of expressing their frustration at having their main tool, their not-so-secret weapon in the off-and-on cold war between the sexes, taken away from them – the ability to turn a guy into a mindless zombie simply by touching his dick, or sucking on it a little. Jack never gloated about it, unless the gal in question’s frustration morphed into outright and extreme bitchiness, which’d happened a couple of times. But he also wasn’t shy about just being who he was either. So while it may have surprised Miranda, it didn’t surprise Jack in the least when he started talking to her in a pleasant, conversational tone; if she wanted the Plan A experience she was going to get the Plan A experience, starting now.

“That feels really nice sweetie. I’m not sure what I did to deserve this kind of special treatment, but wow … you sure know how to treat a guy. Something like this was going to be part of Plan A, and part of Plan B too. But I kind of like your Plan D as well. But how about we … do this just a little bit … differently?” As he said the last one of Jack’s big hands slipped behind the back of Miranda’s head while the other lightly grasped one of her slender, teasing hands. After he’d gently stilled her efforts on his behalf, Jack slid away from Miranda on the couch; as his cock popped free of Miranda’s lips Jack released her head and hand, then quickly stripped off his boxers and tossed them aside. As he stood, Jack also grabbed hold of the small blanket that was now lying discarded at their feet and quickly folded it into a flat little mass. Jack took a few steps away from the couch then turned back to look at Miranda as he dropped the blanket in front of himself. “That’s for your knees” was all he said.

As Jack waited to see how Miranda would react, he placed his hands on his hips and pointed his now very hard cock directly at her. Besides being swollen and erect, his member was also completely coated with her saliva, which made it glisten just a bit in the dim light of the living room. Then Jack recalled he hadn’t been able to wash all of himself off after he’d been inside Miranda; that made his cock twitch just a little … right before a small blob of pre-cum oozed from its tip …
 
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Miranda had never had a guy decline her advances or suddenly stop her in the middle of sucking cock. A bit puzzled, she sat back, mild disappointment dragging at her shoulders. While complimentary of her technique, he sounded almost patronizing in his praise, like a parent overcompensating for a child's failure. Had she done something wrong? Did he really not like the technique? Or was he just not a fan of blowjobs in general? That thought plucked annoyingly at her, feeding her self doubt and that small part of her that whispered she wasn't good enough. That she was far to much trouble to bother with. That he was already regretting his decision to get involved.

But as she stared at him, now completely naked with his cock proudly jutting from his groin, she pushed aside those fears, knowing she'd excited him despite his unwillingness to let her have control. Then it hit her. It was all about control. Suddenly, it all made sense. His forceful nature, the commands, teasing her with the idea of bondage and blindfolds. The man liked to direct the flow, control the scene. He knew what he liked and wasn't afraid to show her, demand it of her. She wondered if he'd scared off any potential lovers with his forceful personality.

It wasn't really what she was accustomed to, but a part of her desperately needed him to be in control. It was necessary for her to be wound so very tightly when at work, but that could melt away when she was with Jack. She didn't have to make any difficult decisions. She didn't have to be in charge. He was strong enough to handle things for them both.

If he was expecting her to decline or balk at the idea of supplication, he'd be sorely disappointed. Wordlessly, she rose from the couch, moving to close the short distance between them where she sank to her knees at his feet. Head tipped upward, eyes upon his face, she pressed forward to lick teasingly at the soft head of his cock, lapping away the fluid dripping from his member. Her sex tightened in response as it always did when pleasuring a man. Something about having a cock inside her mouth always made her juices flow.

"Am I allowed the use of my hands?" she asked as her palms whispered up his muscular thighs.
 
Jack smiled as Miranda gracefully went to her knees and then licked the head of his cock, all without a word of protest or any real hesitation. He hadn’t used any force or coercion. There hadn’t been any trickery or deceit. As far as Jack could tell, Miranda simply wanted to follow his lead and that started to flip a few switches in Jack’s head. So when she asked him her question, Jack’s smile actually broadened and he responded to her with real warmth in his voice.

“Absolutely sweetie. But only after I show you something a little different. Right now, I want you to keep your hands exactly where they are, on my legs. Then take me back into your mouth, look up at me and try to keep your head still …”

Jack waited patiently, giving Miranda all the time she needed to process his ... unusual instructions …
 
Her fingers dug into his thighs as she rose up on her knees to put her mouth level with his rigid shaft. Keeping her upturned gaze fixed on his eyes, she curled her tongue around his cock once again and drew it into her mouth, enveloping him in wet, sultry heat. A soft groan rippled through them both.

Her first instinct was to slid down his entire length, to press her face against his groin while that pulsing shaft invaded her throat, but she fought the urge, offering Jack a momentary picture of perfection -- a beautiful woman, clothed in nothing but her underwear, kneeling at his feet, soft lips wrapped about his cock in worship, her soft brown eyes peering lovingly at him through thick lashes. She waited there in trembling anticipation, poised to follow his direction, waiting to be used.

It was a blissful moment of freedom for Miranda as she relinquished all control and simply let the night happen as Jack desired.
 
After Miranda had done as he’d asked Jack smiled, looked down into her beautiful eyes and continued to speak to her in a warm voice. “Perfect sweetie, just perfect. Now do the best you can to hold still, no matter what. But, since you won’t be doing much talking, you can move that sweet little tongue of yours around all you want.” Then Jack’s voice grew serious for a moment as he added “And if this gets to be too much for you, I want you to squeeze my legs as hard as you can to let me know, understand?”

After that Jack’s big hands settled into Miranda’s hair and gently held her head in place while his hips began to rock back and forth. His strokes were slow and very short, since he didn’t want his cock to leave her warm, wet mouth and also didn’t want to start jamming its head into her throat either; Miranda had taken anything and everything he’d tossed at her that evening in stride, but he had no idea how she’d react to suddenly having her mouth taken like that. As Jack enjoyed the feeling of Miranda’s full lips on his shaft and the sensitive bottom of his glans gliding over her warm, soft tongue, he started gently talking to her again as he looked into her eyes.

“What you were doing for me before, quite nicely by the way, was of course technically fellatio. But what I’m doing right now used to be called irrumatio.” Jack chuckled. “Those crazy Romans had a different word for everything. And they were a pretty kinky bunch too by all accounts. For instance, did you know some Roman politicians supposedly performed irrumatio on … conquered rivals, as a way of showing their dominance over them?” Jack’s breathing got a little deeper but his hips maintained their same, easy pace as he went on. “Now I’m not really into guys … and I’ll never be a politician but I can … see the symbolism of that.”

Jack grinned down at Miranda; this was where he’d envisaged “Plan A” transitioning back to the more usual way of doing things, since he had no real idea of what she was and wasn’t used to. But then, as he appreciated how Miranda's pretty pink lingerie looked against her smooth dusky skin, Jack suddenly wondered if Doctor Blake had been wearing the same bra and panty set hidden under her neatly pressed, perfectly arranged doctor’s uniform the day they first met; the day Doctor Blake had disdainfully threatened to ‘run him off.’ Jack hadn’t seen much of the Ice Queen that evening, but just in case she was lurking around somewhere he abruptly decided to continue his history lesson a little bit longer ...

Jack’s hips froze and his hands caressed Miranda’s head a bit more before he went on. “Of course the Roman politicians were a lot more … vigorous … than I’ve been.” Jack paused. “I don’t know if you've done something like … this … before. But you’re going to do it now, at least once. Just try to relax and let it happen.” Then Jack rocked his hips forward once again but this time, as the tip of his cock touched the back of Miranda's mouth, it just kept on going. And as the hard shaft of meat jutting from Jack’s groin pushed into Miranda’s throat, he delighted in how tight if felt; just as good as, but completely different from, the feel of her sweet little pussy gripping his shaft earlier in the evening. As Jack felt even more switches flipping over in his head, he kept his eyes firmly glued to Miranda’s and also tried to keep some small portion of his mind focused on her hands as he started counting to himself; “One, two, three …”
 
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Miranda could do nothing but moan her understanding, but it would not be the last rumbling groan to be muffled by his cock. As he began to thrust in and out of her mouth, she couldn't help the soft, sensual whimpers that escaped her. It wasn't simply the taste of his cock, nor the act itself, but what it represented. As he began his history lesson, she couldn't help but imagine herself a captive slave and Jack the conquering Roman officer. Neither slavery nor rape were romantic notions in reality, but this was not reality -- this was a fantasy of Jack's making and she'd volunteered to play her part, perfectly willing to be used.

Her clit was throbbing again, jealous of the attention. Moisture began to collect within the heat of her thighs, soaking her sex even though her lower lips weren't the ones enjoying penetration. Her eyes remained locked with Jack's as if held by an invisible force, unwilling to look away for a single moment lest something be missed.

Having a man fuck one's face took a bit of technique to perfect. Miranda was no expert, though her promiscuous teenage years had taught her many things about her own body. One was simply how to relax and enjoy the act itself, whether it was directly pleasurable to her or not. He did nothing to stimulate her body directly, but using her mouth as his own personal fuck toy heightened her own lust. She wanted to please him and for him to find pleasure in her.

It wasn't his approval that she sought, necessarily, but his good opinion had somehow become important to her. One might think it was guilt that drove her to be debased in such fashion, but in that moment she was not thinking of her little betrayals. She wanted him to love her -- even if it was only for that one night, or that one moment. Her heart ached for what she'd lost, and she sought to recapture it in any way she could.

Her tongue curled inward as he pumped, creating a curved channel that conformed perfectly to his shaft, the strong muscle hardening a fraction to add another level of sensation to his sensitive underside. His unceasing thrusts offered only scant moments to draw in breath through her nose, and no time at all to swallow. Spit collected around his cock, squelching sloppily from her mouth and drooling from her lower lip in long ropes. It crept downward, coating his balls each time they slapped against her chin, and eventually dribbled onto her chest, oozing into her cleavage. But still she didn't move, nor squeeze his legs. Her competitive nature wouldn't allow her to quit or beg him to stop -- not until she had no other choice.

That choice came when he shoved his cock deep into her mouth and penetrated her throat for the first time. She gagged as he pushed past her uvula, convulsing around his shaft and again as he drove even deeper. Her cries were choked, silenced, by the member that prevented her from speaking and effectively cut off her airway. And still her eyes remained upon his, even as they reflexively filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

Five, six, seven...

Miranda's throat relaxed around Jack's cock, allowing him to slide even deeper. Her lips were bruised by her own teeth as he pressed his groin against her face.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen...

She swallowed, throat muscles tightening briefly to squeeze his cock, rippling along his shaft.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty...

She could feel her heart pulsing in her throat.

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven...

Her lungs were beginning to protest, burning in her chest. Her tears continued to fall as she gazed up at her conqueror, though she'd begun to tremble.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five...

Her oxygen-starved brain screamed for her to stop, threatening unconsciousness.

At thirty-nine, Miranda finally began to struggle. Unable to hold her breath any longer, she squeezing his thighs frantically, her nails biting into his skin. If he kept his cock jammed down her throat, she'd soon pass out.
 
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When he thought about it later Jack could never pinpoint exactly when things had … not gone sideways really, but more taken off like a train with a madman at the throttle and a crazy woman’s hands on the brakes. The best he could figure was that it was sometime before he hit “five” in his head, because that was when he was supposed to pull out of Miranda’s mouth. Why that didn’t happen was an eternal mystery to him as well. Maybe it was because of how good it had all felt; the unique way her throat squeezed the head of his cock and the special feel as it convulsed around his shaft. Or maybe it was Miranda’s eyes; he never once broke eye contact with her and despite all her tears it was only at the very end when she looked like she was scared. The rest of the time her eyes were filled with … what exactly? Affection, determination, need? Hope maybe? Or might it have been the voices in Jack's head that kept his cock down Miranda’s throat for way longer than five seconds …

“Jack, it’s time to stop now. You’ve lost track of the count. Stop. Now.” Screw that! Miranda’s a big girl, she’ll let me know when it’s too much for her …

Then, many seconds later … “Jack, Miranda is not Doctor Blake. At least not all the time. Not now. Stop. Now.” Fuck that! If she shows back up I want her to fucking remember this, next time she even thinks about trying to send me away …”

And finally, after that … “Jack, you’re not making any sense. Miranda doesn’t want you to leave. And it was you who walked away from …” Would you shut the fuck up so I can pay attention to her for Christ’s sake?

Jack pulled himself from Miranda the instant he felt her sharp nails bite into his skin and her slender fingers clamp down onto his thighs. As his hands came away from Miranda's head Jack squatted down in front of her and loosely grasped the sides of her shoulders, helping to keep her upright as she coughed or gasped or wiped her mouth clean, or did whatever else she needed to do to get air back into her lungs. As he watched Miranda carefully Jack didn’t say a word. There were no blubbered attempts at telling her to breath or asking if she was alright; her body knew how to do the former just fine and he would see for himself about the latter. Instead of that Jack just kept watching Miranda’s eyes as best he could, patiently waiting for when it looked like the crisis had passed and there was again someone at home for him to talk to.

Jack’s voice was flat and even when he did finally speak to Miranda; not unkind exactly, but just matter of fact with maybe the slightest hint of sadness behind it. It sounded like a parent telling a young kid that gravity couldn’t be turned off like in the movies, no matter how hard you tried, and that the kid would never fly through the air just like a superhero; that that was just how things were. It certainly wasn’t a tone of voice used to offer up praise either.

“Now Miranda. Now you can finish what you started on the couch. Now is when you can use your hands …” As Jack released Miranda’s shoulders and stood, she could see that he was still rock hard and that his groin was even more completely covered with a mixture of her saliva and his pre-cum; a part of him wondered if she’d think to use his boxers or her bra to clean him up a little beforehand, now that she could use her hands. Her bra certainly was already a mess, coated with goo that had dribbled from her chin; Jack could also see Miranda’s hard nipples poking at the soft pink fabric and he briefly wondered how wet she might be between her legs as well. But Jack pushed that thought aside for later as he told Miranda one last thing.

“And when you finish I want you to swallow, or at least try to; I’ll try to give you a heads up so it isn’t a surprise.” Jack glanced down at his cock, then back at Miranda. “That way we’ll both know that after all this, there’s a little bit of me left inside of you …”
 
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Miranda sat back against her feet the moment Jack released her, a slight euphoria making her dizzy as she drew in a deep breath and oxygen began to flow. One of her hands remained on his leg, holding herself steady as he gripped her shoulders, fearing she'd likely tilt to one side and fall without his support. With one shaking hand, she wiped the spit from her mouth, eyes downcast, though it didn't take her long to recover.

Her cheeks reddened at Jack's tone. Hadn't she pleased him? Had he expected her to hold her breath longer? It hurt a little that he had no kind words for her, no words of encouragement, nothing to signify that he'd enjoyed the experience. As she sat there, chin slowly tipping upward so she could meet his gaze again, she almost contemplated quitting. How could she please a man that refused to be pleased? What more could she do to make him happy? To appreciate her?

It was the sight of his rigid cock, proud and unyielding, that changed her mind.

You're not a quitter. Show him you can finish the task at hand. Show him how well you can get him off and finish the job.

Miranda neared his shaft once more, eyes fixed on him as she neared. She didn't make any attempt to wipe him down with rag or cloth. Instead, she licked him clean, sucking their shared fluids from his cock, worshiping him from base to head. Then, with him coated with only a thin layer of spit, her hand began to pump.

Her cheek rested against his leg, tongue escaping to tease his balls. She captured his sack in her free hand to steady them as she lathed them with her tongue, rolling each about before drawing them into the warmth of her mouth to suck. She was gentle, but firm, wanting them both coated before releasing them.

With his balls rolling languidly through her fingers, she turned her attention back to his spit-slick cock and wrapped her lips about his shaft once again. Her eyes closed as she began to bob, the talented fingers of a surgeon working in tandem with her wicked tongue and firm suction to push him to the edge. Could she get him to that point with just a blow job? Moaning around his shaft, she devoutly hoped so, thinking of the satisfaction of watching him lose control and pump his seed into her mouth.
 
Jack was close, but it still might have taken him awhile longer if it hadn’t been for some of the things Miranda did. When she licked him clean that definitely flipped another switch in his head. Seeing her pink little tongue licking his balls, right before she gently sucked them into her warm mouth flipped another. And her technique was just perfect, especially when she began to caress his scrotum with her slender fingers; Jack had turned his head and coughed for a few female doctors before, but none of them had ever wrapped their luscious lips around his shaft like Miranda had as well. And the way she used her tongue, and bobbed her head, and moaned … But what really did it for Jack was when he realized the cock Miranda was now expertly and enthusiastically sucking was the same one he’d pushed down her throat just moments ago. Jack’s voice popped into his head along with that final thought and this time he didn’t shout it down. “She’s fine Jack. You’re fine. Just let go …” And he did.

As Miranda felt Jack’s balls pull up towards his body he managed to get out “Now …” right before he groaned and came. His emptying scrotum didn’t produce quite as much semen as it had the first time he’d orgasmed that evening, but even still Jack shot rope after rope of his warm seed into Miranda’s waiting mouth. The rest of Jack’s physical reaction though, was another thing entirely. He thought he’d gotten all the stress out of his body when he and Miranda had made love in the kitchen, but if anything this time he seized up even more; maybe that was because of all the heavy talk about Miranda’s family after dinner, or maybe it was due to the sheer craziness of what had happened between them after the movie. In any event Jack strained against his invisible bonds for much longer than usual, his fists clenched on either side of Miranda’s head and his face a death mask of pain. Then, after the last of all that built up tension finally exited his body, Jack suddenly felt incredibly weak. Before he lost his balance he sank heavily to his knees in front of Miranda, blindly reached out for her slender waist and rested his sweaty forehead on one of her smooth shoulders. When the coughing started he turned his head away from her until he could breathe again in a vaguely normal way. Jack used the small amount of energy he'd regained to turn his head back towards Miranda, kiss the side of her neck and then mumble two words into her shoulder.

“Thank you.”
 
She could feel the tension in his body before he grunted his warning, but neither stopped her from working his cock. As he exploded inside of her mouth, her bobbing stilled, but her hand continued to pump, driving every last drop from his aching member. She swallowed most of what he gave her, though what she couldn't take dribbled from her mouth and down her chin.

Opening her eyes, she turned her gaze upward to witness the extreme reaction as his entire body stiffened. Never had she seen a man react so strong, so violently, when reaching climax. Had she not felt that same tension before and witnessed his angry fists upon the counter, she would have thought him in cardiac arrest. The clinical side of her wanted to study that reaction, to see if it remained consistent through the night, but she was far too pleased with herself and her performance to be distracted. She'd made him come and the taste of his saltiness lingered on her tongue as she drew away.

She held him as he dropped to his knees and leaned on her for support. While he struggled to regain himself, she struggled to catch her breath, panting against his shoulder as her body calmed. After wiping away spit and semen from her chin, she wrapped both arms around him to hug him tightly. She gingerly kissed his temple, fingers dragging through his sweat-laden hair, and sat there quietly for a while with her eyes closed, content to simply hold him.
 
As Jack knelt there he felt more at peace than he had in long time. He knew part of that was simply because he’d just had a massive orgasm, his second of the night. But it was a lot more than that really. He and Miranda had again shared an experience that most people never would; that most would probably consider borderline insane. And yet here they were, at the end of it all, in each other’s arms. What could be better than that?

After awhile Jack regained enough strength to sit back on his heels so that he could look at Miranda. The first thing he noticed was that she seemed happy too, despite her looking more than a little … tuckered out. While her eyebrows were still perfectly plucked her hair was a sweaty mess. And while she was still as pretty as ever, her face was also flushed and there seemed to be a little of … him and her still streaked along the side of her jaw. But like always it was her eyes that Jack was drawn to. He could still see all of Doctor Blake’s intelligence and moxie in Miranda’s beautiful eyes, even if they did look a little bushed at the moment. But there also seemed to be a glimmer of mischievousness too, that hinted at some sort of little secret that Miranda was taking great pleasure in; Jack was tempted to ask her about that but then decided to let it go, since in his mind a gal was entitled to her little secrets from time to time. On top of all that though, Jack realized that Miranda’s eyes now just looked warmer than they ever had. He tried to put a finger on why and then realized it was because the muscles around her eyes weren’t all tensed up like usual.

That thought prompted Jack to look at Miranda’s face really closely for the first time ever. Besides her dusky skin, perfect features and the cute little birthmarks, Jack also noticed the slightest little wrinkles just beginning to form around Miranda’s eyes and lips, and across her forehead. As his own eyes flicked across those Jack found himself wondering what Miranda might look like thirty years into the future. His immediate thought was that she’d age gracefully and look even prettier then than she did now, and that those “imperfections” would look like they did to him at that moment; as signs of character and experience. And he also imagined that helping to smooth out those wrinkles the old fashioned way would still be a whole helluva lotta fun …

Jack brushed some of the wilder locks of Miranda’s hair back behind her ears, tried to gently wipe away the stray goo and then leaned forward to tenderly kiss her on the lips. After he wiped his thumb off on his thigh Jack took Miranda’s smaller hands into his and sat back again with a big smile on face. “I liked your Plan D. You should keep that one in your hip pocket … well, if you had any pockets that is.” Jack grinned a little more broadly. “For any times when you’re not sure what to do that is. Just whip out old Plan D and you’ll be good to go.” Jack gave Miranda’s hands a friendly little squeeze before he went on.

“Which brings me back to Plan A. I’m still up for it if you are; the least I can do for a lady afterwards and all that. But if you want to change your mind, just hit the hay now, I’ll understand. Though you won’t really need to … do a whole lot in Plan A, so if you think you still have the energy for it … well, I could meet you in your boudoir after you’ve visited the bathroom or whatever else you’d like to do.” Jack stopped chattering and sat back, still holding onto Miranda’s hands as he waited to see what she might be up for at this point …
 
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Miranda was completely relaxed, but not exhausted. After she'd recovered and caught her breath, she found that his orgasm had only heightened her need for another. Her body was thrumming after the experience, demanding satisfaction. When Jack kissed her, her entire body seemed to sigh against him. There was absolutely no earthly way that the ice queen could survive the passionate heat that rose between them.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, but your slight modification was the perfect cherry on top of the ice cream sundae. It isn't often I get a history lesson from the guy I'm blowing." Those dark depths danced with amusement, and she gave her hands a squeeze. "I liked it, by the way. Don't be afraid to do that again. I'm a big girl. I can tell you when I've had enough. I like...," she paused, head tilting as she considered. "... I like being challenged and pushed to my limits. It is what drives me professionally, so I suppose it should be no different sexually."

"Your Plan A is still my first choice. If you think this exhausted me, you have no idea about the stamina of surgeons. Some of my surgeries last hours. Granted, none of them are quite so invigorating as all this." She grinned, one of those soft, genuine smiles that people rarely had the opportunity to see.

Reclaiming both of her hands, she climbed to her feet. "First, though, I could do with a bit of a shower after the mess we've made. Would you like to join me?" Reaching behind her, she deftly unhooked her bra and pushed the soggy garment off her shoulders, baring the heavy, dusky breasts he'd already tasted more than once. "It could be our palette cleanser before the main course?"
 
Jack smiled back at Miranda as he replied to her. “Modified Plan D it is. And I would love to join you in the shower.” During their short walk to the bathroom Jack took great pleasure in watching Miranda’s now bare breasts bounce ever so slightly, and he also couldn’t help but look at her swaying hips and they way her firm, panty covered cheeks flexed up and down. “Yup” he thought “that will never get old.”

Once in the bathroom Jack let Miranda adjust the water to her liking then climbed into the tub behind her, pulling the shower curtain closed as he did. There was actually plenty of room for the both of them so he let Miranda go first after he offered to help her with her hair if she wanted; Jack actually liked helping a gal with long hair wash it, since he thought it kind of balanced out all the other times he would just grab a handful of those locks and tug back on them in bed. After that Jack just happily watched as Miranda cleaned her front and legs, and then took the washcloth from her and told her he’d be doing her back.

Jack took hold of Miranda’s shoulders, turned her to face the wall and then gently placed both of her palms flat against the cool slick tiles; by this point he was pretty sure she’d know exactly what he wanted her to do with her hands. Then he ran the soapy cloth over the toned muscles of Miranda’s back and cheeks, rather enjoying how her body reacted just a little as he washed her thoroughly. All that smooth, light brown skin looked simply marvelous to him, its only blemish the scar just above her curvy tush. Not for the first time did Jack lament how underrated a gal’s back often was, and what a great invention backless dresses were; the perfect combination of sexiness and class as far as he was concerned.

Once he was done with the washcloth Jack set it aside and then stepped up close behind Miranda. His shaft pressed up against the wet cheeks of her ass and his hands traced lightly around her torso to cup her full, slippery breasts as he said “Probably best I check to make sure all of you is clean before I start washing.” Then, as Jack gently fondled Miranda’s tits and his fingers began lightly teasing her sensitive nipples, he resumed talking to her.

“So tonight has been pretty educational for me as well. But every time I learn something new about you, it just leads to more questions. For instance I couldn’t help wondering if sometimes you wear that pink bra and panties to work, under your doctor’s uniform. If you have them on when you’re taking a little break in your office, and maybe start thinking about some big mercenary type coming in, closing the door and forcing you to your knees. Or maybe the fantasy plays out in one of the exam rooms, when you’re giving the guy a physical. He’s standing in front of you nude, and you have his balls in your hand checking him for a hernia, and you think you have everything under control. And then he just pushes you to your knees, and pushes himself into your mouth, and you’re too shocked and excited to do anything about it, even though one of the nurses might come in and catch you any second. And the thought of being caught turns you on even more, so as the guy uses your mouth for his pleasure you slip one of your hands into those perfectly pressed slacks you wear, and into your pink panties, and you begin pleasuring yourself.” As he said the last sentence one of Jack’s hands slid down over Miranda’s flat stomach, cupped her vulva and then began lightly stroking her slick, open inner lips.

“And then the guy blows his load down your throat, and a second later you cum too. And when you do you thank God you have the guy’s cock in your mouth, because otherwise your entire staff would hear you screaming, and find out what a submissive little slut Doctor Miranda Blake really is.” Jack’s fingers wandered upward and lightly flicked over Miranda’s swollen clit once, twice and then … both his hands abruptly vanished from her body.

“Woops, looks like the hot water is starting to go. Probably best I start washing now, before it runs out completely.” And if Miranda had happened to look over her shoulder at Jack just then, she would have seen a little grin on his face that perfectly matched his cheeky tone as he reached for the washcloth …
 
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Showering with a man had never been an unpleasant experience in Miranda's mind. Even when it didn't lead directly to sex, it usually involved playful caresses and slippery bodies navigating the cramped stall. Showering with Jack proved to be no exception. Not only was he considerate enough to scrub her back and wash her hair, but he wasn't stingy with his hands. It also wasn't her first time pressed up against a shower wall, man rubbing himself between her cheeks while fondling her tits. She bit back her moans, shivering as his hands slid over her slick body to tweak her nipples. To reach between her thighs and stroke her throbbing clit. And while his hands felt wonderful on her body, stroking her to arousal again, she found his words to be an even better aphrodisiac.

Miranda didn't have office fantasies. She was usually too busy to dream about a patient bending her over the exam room table and fucking her in front of her nurses. Such scenarios were typically just the plot of porn movies and didn't occur in real life. Her patients were sick, dying, and in pain. No one was thinking about sex in those conditions. Miranda certainly wasn't thinking about when she was holding the puke bucket or giving an enema. She'd never had anything remotely similar to an English Patient moment. Her brain just didn't work that way.

However, Jack's vividly described scenes were all too easily imagined as he stroked her body. Would she take him for a ride if he came to visit the office again? Close her door and muffle the screams? Would she let him push her to her knees to suck his cock with the ever present threat of discovery lingering? She didn't have fantasies, but it was all too easy to see that she'd be reminded of this very moment the next time she wore that particular set of underwear. And that memory might very well send her hand snaking into her panties so she could stroke herself to completion.

Then it was over, and she couldn't stop the moan of disappointment. Pulling her hands from the wall, she snatched up the rag before he could reach it and began to spin it between her hands. "You're one dirty bastard, you know that?" Her smile was playful, but in a dangerously mischievous way. "You need some help cleaning up, sweetie?"

Her wrist flicked and the rag snapped, whipping at him like a tiny projectile hurtling toward his leg. It cracked just short of popping his skin, however. The threat of being stung was usually enough to make someone jump in surprise.

"How about you? Hmm?" Closing the short distance between them, her rag covered hand immediately pressed between his legs to cup his cock and balls, rubbing them both gently with the soapy washcloth. "What sort of fantasies do you have when you're showering with a group of sweaty men?"

Rising up on her toes, she leaned against him as she brought her lips perilously close to his mouth. "Do you close your eyes and imagine yourself the king of a vast harem where all the women clamor to suck you off? Where each one is desperate to do your bidding? Or are you that proud roman soldier, taking to the baths with his slave girl, bending her over the tiles so you could fuck her from behind while gripping her collar so tightly?" Her hand had replaced the rag, sudsy fingers curling about his shaft to clean him properly.

"Which one? Tell me what sort of girl you dream about chaining up in your dungeon so you can take her out on a whim and torture her poor body with sexual pleasures until she's begging you for her release?" Her free hand slid past his hip to squeeze his ass, enjoying the handful of muscle that met her.
 
Jack just laughed as Miranda let him have it; he certainly deserved it and besides that, he really liked to see her this way too. And her hands also felt really nice, though this soon after his second big orgasm of the night it was going to take a lot more than … being “washed” by her to get a rise out of him.

As Jack let Miranda have her revenge he tried to respond to everything she’d just said. “You are full of questions all of a sudden Doctor Blake, a regular Nosey Nellie. Jeez, where to begin? Let’s see … Well, for starters I’ve never been a dungeon kind of a guy; I move around too much for all that. Plus you can get the same effect just by using everyday stuff and a little imagination.” (“As you’ll soon find out my dear” Jack added to himself.)

“And I’m also not really into slaves and chains either. Or at least the physical kind of chains you’re talking about. Though I suppose if I did … win a battle or something, and happened to find a … cute Priestess say, hiding in the enemy general’s tent I might … have to take her. Into my household. Purely for her own protection of course.”

“Collars on the other hand …” Jack paused and tilted his head to look at Miranda’s face from the side. Then his hands rose slowly to wrap around the sexy Doctor’s slender neck, his thumbs touching over her windpipe and his little fingers meeting under her hair right above her spine. The contact with Miranda’s skin was feather light and not the least bit painful; Jack just eyed his fingers carefully for a moment, pursed his lips and gave his head a little nod before he returned his hands to his hips. Then he rocked forward a bit and pushed more of himself through Miranda’s slippery fingers. “I think you missed a spot” he added before he went back to Miranda’s questions. “But harems? Jeez no thanks, those are right out too. Dealing with one crazy woman at a time is quite enough in my book.”

“And so fantasies too huh? Well, when I’m ‘showering with a group of sweaty men’ I fantasize about being in the girl’s locker room right after soccer practice.” Jack’s voice got a lot more serious as he went on. “But uh … what sort of girl do I dream about? Well … you’re going to think I’m full of it, but she’s always smart and feisty for some reason. Someone who I can click with, eventually.” Jack brushed a few strands of Miranda’s wet hair back behind her ears and looked into her eyes. “And I don’t just mean physically.” Jack suddenly grinned. “Though that’s always nice too. So say … a stripper who’s up on stage just to put herself through law school. Or maybe some doctor who could also be a lap dancer if she felt like it …”

Jack leaned forward and kissed the tip of Miranda’s nose. “Okay crazy, I think you’ve got me all cleaned off.” Jack gently slipped Miranda’s fingers from around his penis before he continued on. “Why don’t you finish up in here while I get out and … get things ready for Plan A. When you’re done I’ll meet you in your bedroom.” And with that Jack rinsed off and hopped out of the shower …
 
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"Yea, you're right. I don't believe you," she joked. "Except the part about the girl's locker room, of course. That's pretty typical guy, isn't it?" She smiled as he slipped away, winding that rag up once again to crack it at his rear when he departed. It didn't strike him, of course, but she did enjoy the sound of that little pop that chased after him, knowing she could have giving him a good welt if she'd so desired.

With the shower to herself, she finished her own rinsing, though didn't linger. Jack had soaped up and washed all the important bits, and more. Her sex was still slick from his questing hands, and she was careful not to wash that all away.

Using a towel, she dried herself off once she'd climbed out and then used it to give her hair a good scrubbing to soak up most of the water. After wrapping the towel about her body and tucking the end beneath her armpit, she left Jack to his own devices, getting whatever ready he needed to get ready while she dried her hair. As she gazed at herself in the mirror, fingers separating the wet strands for the hair dryer, she couldn't help but think of Jack's hands about her throat. Something about it made her shiver, wanting.

What in the hell is wrong with you, Miranda? You're no man's slave.

Except Carson.

That's different. That's blackmail. He thinks he owns you, but he's sorely mistaken.

Shaking off the thought, she decided her hair was dry enough, so she flipped off the dryer and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. About ten minutes had passed, giving him ample time to prepare however he liked. Miranda joined him in the bedroom, curious at what he had planned and just how much it would demand of her.

Just quit pushing and let him set the damned pace. It was difficult for her to give away all control, but she was determined to force herself to relax a bit.
 
If Miranda had expected Jack to turn her boudoir into a dungeon with some duct tape and paper clips, she was definitely disappointed when she walked into her bedroom; all that was different was that Jack was now leaning against the dresser that also served as a TV stand, clad in his dark blue boxers and with his arms crossed over his chest. But his trusty go-bag was also sitting on her bed, full of who knows what, which was of course part of Plan A. Before he got started though Jack took a moment to take a long look at Miranda as she stood before him freshly scrubbed, with her damp hair in a pony tail and wearing nothing but a bath towel; as he tilted his head a little his one, quite sincere comment on Miranda’s appearance was “Y’know, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, or how you do your hair, or if you have a little makeup on or not; you always look good.”

Then Jack got back to business as he pushed off the dresser, walked over to his go-bag and pulled out a clean pair of regular athletic socks. As he turned towards Miranda he matter of factly said “Hands please” and then gently pulled the socks up and over her slim fingers. Once that was done Jack carefully rolled the socks’ ankles back down to form nice thick cuffs around Miranda’s wrists; as he did that his eyes glanced over the scars marring her arms, but didn’t dwell on them since he was focused on the task at hand.

Next out of Jack’s bag came a three foot length of parachute cord; his current unit wasn’t airborne and didn’t have any chutes but still had rolls of the stuff over in supply, since it was strong, easy to work with and incredibly handy. There were loops at either end of the cord and Jack slipped one over Miranda’s left wrist and cinched it tight using a pre-tied slip knot; thanks to the socks the cord didn’t bite into her wrist even though it was quite secure. Miranda’s other wrist got similar treatment, with the cord connecting the loops running behind her back; because of the length of cord remaining her hands were actually pressed against the sides of her butt cheeks and not directly behind her, and still could be moved around a fair amount. With a little thought and effort Miranda would almost certainly be able to get out of her current … predicament, even though her hands were now contained within what were essentially thumbless mittens – if she really wanted to, that is. Once he was done with the cord Jack spoke to Miranda a lot more seriously for a moment. “I’m sure you already realize this, but if your fingers start to feel numb or tingly let me know right away, okay? No being a tough chick about that one sweetie, understand?”

Last out of the bag came a simple eyemask, like the ones you might wear on a long airplane flight; this one had the British Airways logo on it and had obviously been used. Jack grinned at Miranda as he held it up and showed it to her; “Don’t worry, I’m the only other person who’s worn this. So the worst that’ll happen is you’ll catch even more boy cooties from me.” Jack ran Miranda’s ponytail through the elastic and then slipped the dark mask over her eyes, effectively blinding her.

Jack undid Miranda’s bath towel without comment and carefully helped Miranda turn and sit down on the edge of her own bed. Then he helped her lay back and scooch around so that she was lying there fairly normally, atop the soft towel and seemingly a fair distance from the edge. Once he’d touched Miranda to make sure her hands weren’t directly under her back, her ponytail was off to the side and that she was breathing more or less normally, Jack spoke to her in a kind voice.

“Okay sweetie, we’re almost ready to start. But I have to step out of the room for a second, to visit the loo and also take care of one last thing. I’m going to leave the door open and if you need anything, just call me; your place is small enough that I’ll hear you right away. And try to stay still too; you’re not too close to the edge, but I don’t want you rolling off the bed and hurting that sexy body. Since it's mine now after all.” And with that Miranda heard Jack exit her bedroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she lay there bound, blinded and nude …
 
As she'd confessed, Miranda had little practice at any sort of sexual bondage. The most she'd ever experienced were the guys that enjoyed holding her hands above her head while fucking her or the sort that liked a bit of hair pulling while screwing her from behind. She didn't know what to expect with Jack. He clearly enjoyed some of the dominating aspects of sex, and she certainly didn't mind letting him take control, but how far was he wanting to push her?

She watched with open curiosity as he prepared, a slight smile appearing as he put socks over her hands. Socks? She'd never even considered the possibility of wearing them as restrictive mittens. Her gaze followed his progress as he pulled the cord from his bag and looped it around her wrists. As it tightened, drawing her arms slightly back, the theory shifted to reality andi it all suddenly became quite real. He'd left her enough slack that she could pull out of the cord if she wanted, giving her a choice on how she wanted to continue, but it was still very strange to be bound with rope. Her fists clenched to test the strength of the cord, pulling experimentally, but the rope didn't bite any deeper into her skin. It was secure, but not uncomfortable.

As the mask came down to restrict her vision, she felt that familiar flutter deep in her stomach. She closed her eyes behind the blindfold, suddenly tense as he touched her, trying to reconcile the loss of vision. The towel came free, fully exposing her, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. There was no protest as he led her to sit and then situated her body. She tried to relax upon the bed as best she could, but was unable to stop the slight increase in her pulse as a tinge of fear joined with the excitement. It beat loudly in her ears, thrumming.

Her first few minutes alone were spent trying to calm herself as she strained to hear what Jack was doing in the other room. Without her sight, her other senses struggled to compensate. She was suddenly aware of how soft her bedding was against her silky skin. She could hear the soft ticking of the analog alarm clock that sat on her bedside table, each tick a passing second as she lay vulnerable upon the bed. Time itself was difficult to gauge. She'd lost count of the ticks. Had it been thirty seconds since Jack had left or three minutes or thirty? She couldn't tell.

Her anxiety rose as she waited, skin tingling, craving some form of touch to ground her. Waiting for his fingers to caress her skin, to touch her breast. She was all too aware of her body's response, the slight dampness that was growing between her thighs and the ache of hardened nipples. Anticipation and time were both her enemies now. She trembled at the former and endured the latter, impatient as the minutes passed.

With the unknown passage of time came the doubt and fear. She suddenly felt foolish, strung out on the bed for a man, letting herself be put in such a helpless position. What if he was playing a dirty trick and left her in that state? What if he left and Carson found her? That was a sobering thought and nearly made her want to throw off the blindfold and work her bonds free. But she didn't. She waited, swallowing her fear, trusting Jack for at least a little bit more.
 
Miranda could tell Jack had returned to the bedroom and she also heard him place something on the nightstand next to her bed; whatever it was seemed to have some mass, since it made a soft clunk as it was put down and sounded like it might be glass. Then she felt his weight press into the bed next to her and his large, warm hands settled onto her full breasts and began caressing them; Jack’s voice was as gentle as his touch as he started speaking to Miranda.

“So the first thing I want you to understand is that I really enjoyed most of tonight. The sex was great …” Jack’s thumbs began lightly flicking across the bound doctor’s hard little nipples “… but it’s been more than just that. Showering together, watching the movie together, eating dinner together and our conversation afterwards … they were all pretty great. But …” Jack’s fingers gave Miranda’s tits a squeeze “… there were also parts of tonight that were … not so great.”

Miranda felt Jack’s hands leave her body and there was a slight pause while his weight shifted a bit. Then she felt some … thing touch her left breast and begin to very, very lightly scrape over her soft, smooth skin. The thing felt hard and cool and rigid, and seemed to have some kind of edge to it too. It might have been a metal spatula from Miranda’s kitchen, or maybe one of her butter knifes. Or it might have been the combat knife she’d seen on Jack’s vest when they went to the bus terminal together and out to Akanni later; there was no way for her to tell exactly what it was, and not a whole lot she could do about it either.

“For instance you answering the door in a half open robe and with no panties on? Only a very naughty girl would do something like that …” The thing had reached Miranda’s nipple and she felt it toying with her swollen bud. “Or the way you were snapping that towel in the shower?” The thing in Jack’s hand suddenly tapped the sensitive bottom of Miranda’s left breast, making her whole boob jiggle slightly; given its momentum, the thing didn’t feel much like a spatula anymore. “You could have taken someone’s eye out. Or damaged the family jewels …” The thing moved over to Miranda’s right breast and began gliding over it …

“But the naughtiest thing you’ve been doing Miranda, by far, is holding out on me. And I don’t mean sexually.” The thing was now toying with Miranda’s right nipple. “Fibbing to me. Now I understand why you were doing that, so I’m not really angry about it …” The thing tapped the bottom of Miranda’s right breast lightly. “… because if I was … oh man …” Another, more forceful snap, this time certainly hard enough to really sting as well make all of that beautiful, sexy flesh jiggle quite a bit more. “But still, you are going to have to be punished for all of that naughtiness …”

Miranda no longer felt the thing in Jack’s hand touching her as he went on in a sober voice. “Now to be truly effective, punishment has to hurt somehow. And I’m willing to bet this is going to hurt you more than me. It’s also probably going to mess up your sheets a little, but that’s why you’re lying on a towel. But if you want to stop, if you want to just quit, well … all you have to do is say three little words. ‘Jack please stop.’ Those exact three words, in that exact order.” Jack chuckled before he went on. “Now I’d normally have you repeat those words back to me, to make sure you got them. But since you’re such a clever girl, thinking you can get away with dressing like a little slut, and cracking towels in the shower, and fibbing to me, well … hopefully your hearing and memory are still working okay.” Miranda could feel Jack’s weight shift on the bed a bit more before he went on. “Now try to hold still, so this doesn’t make such a mess.” And then …

... Miranda felt something small and smooth, and slickly wet, and icy cold touch her left breast.
 
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It was a blessed relief when she finally heard Jack return, and she drew in a deep breath to steady herself. She started when he first touched her, caressing her breast, but his touch was initially comforting and helped to relax her. It sparked that first note of lust deep within, causing her stomach to quiver. Her breath caught the first time he brought that mystery object in contact with her sensitive nipples. Blind to whatever move he'd make next, the anticipation was enough to set her on edge. Her hardened buds telegraphed every tiny contact to her sex to heighten her arousal.

Logically, Miranda knew Jack's treatment was going to get progressively maddening, making it difficult for her to keep still. As he began to list her sins, she couldn't help the slight smirk that pulled at one corner of her mouth. The robe, the rag... he was looking for transgressions and had to dig to find them. But her heart seized as he scolded her for lying. She jumped at the smack to her breast, the tender flesh stinging for a brief instant.

Did he know about Carson?

Dread flooded her body, a deep chill churning in her stomach as a note of panic struck. Could he know all that she was lying about? No, that's not possible. If he knew, he'd be furious, she reasoned. Furious, and she'd likely be strapped down in some dark room for interrogation rather than naked on the bed.

Her fears were quickly pushed aside as she felt icy surprise against her breast. She jerked away with a slight gasp, a purely automatic reaction, body twisting and breasts bouncing as she ran from the cold. Beneath her bonds, her fingers tightened into fists as she shivered.

"Jack!" She certainly didn't ask him to stop, but couldn't keep the nervous laugh from bubbling up. Though blind, her face turned in his direction. "I fully claim the first two, but what sort of fibbing do you think I've done?"
 
Jack replied to Miranda in a neutral tone. “We’ll get to that in a moment dear. First though, we need to address your other two, lesser … transgressions, which at least you’ve had the good grace to admit to.” Jack’s weight shifted noticeably on the bed and Miranda could feel his hip and thigh pressing against her left side, almost sitting on her hand and also pinning that arm against her slender torso. One of Jack’s hands also settled onto Miranda’s right shoulder, holding her in place and keeping her from scooting away from him. “And I said to try to hold still, remember? I don’t like sleeping in a wet spot.”

Then whatever was in Jack’s other hand proceeded to slowly and methodically glide over every square inch of Miranda’s full, firm left breast, chilling her once warm flesh to the point of goosebumps and leaving a thin sheen of cold water over her soft, dusky skin. As soon as that was finished a small corner of the object began to slide over Miranda’s much darker areola, moistening the small bumps already there and also just brushing against the side of the bound doctor’s very erect nipple as it went round and round. And finally, after a brief pause, the object touched the very tip of Miranda’s swollen bud, circled slowly for a few seconds and then was withdrawn. “That was for how you came to the door” Jack informed Miranda, just before he shifted his weight and … slowly repeated the entire process on her other breast; “And that was for your horseplay with the towel in the shower …”

After a longer pause Jack resumed talking while his second hand also took hold of Miranda’s other shoulder. “I’ll bet that feels really cold. But you should see yourself now; not just your nipples are hard, both of your tits seem extra firm and hard too, and are glistening. Magnificent.” There was another pause before Jack continued on. “Now you’ve tried to be a good girl about some of this. You admitted you negligently cracked a loaded towel in the shower twice. And you’ve also admitted that you answered the door dressed like a submissive little slut, offering me your sexy body before we’d even had dinner. So I’m going to show you a little mercy now.” And without any further ado Jack lowered his mouth to Miranda’s bosom and started to gently lick and kiss all the cold water from her with his lips and tongue. It took him a fair amount of time, because there was a fair amount of ground for him to cover, but once Jack had ensured that Miranda’s breasts were now glistening with a warm coat of his saliva he shifted his attention to her nipples; though they were much smaller by comparison he again took his time kissing, licking and tenderly suckling on both of them, so that they went from hard and erect because of cold, to hard and erect due to loving care.

After another long pause Jack released Miranda’s shoulders and spoke to her again. “Now that that’s taken care of, we can go ahead and address your fibbing. But first …” there was another shift of weight on the bed “… spread your legs.”
 
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Because she was prepared for the cold the second time, she didn't try to twist away. She had more self control than that. Her teeth captured her bottom lip, nibbling as a reminder to keep from moaning too loudly. They'd already had their loud, passionate fuck. This time, she wanted to hear Jack's voice and concentrate on his hands roving over her body.

The icy exploration made her gasp several times as he toyed with her breasts. If her nipples had been tight, contracted buds before, they now looked hard enough to cut through glass. She could feel the slight ache as her breasts reacted to the cold. Shivers ran through her unbidden and uncontrolled, eliciting soft little whimpers in her throat. Beneath the mask, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, and it was a true struggle to keep still.

His warm mouth was a welcome respite to the chill. As he licked away the excess water and lathed her breasts with his tongue, paying exceptional attention to her poor, tortured nubs, her soft moans rose in volume and duration. A shuddering breath escaped, and her teeth bit down a touch harder on her lip.

Spread your legs.

The command caused her stomach to dip drastically. Swallowing thickly, she slowly complied, knees spreading apart slightly to offer access to throbbing sex. He'd find her wet and needy, the attention already arousing her lustful desires. Again, her fingers clenched tightly, the lingering anticipation causing a slight tremble.

What fibbing?! Dragging out the answer was maddening. She racked her brain, searching for something she'd truly lied about -- something that he might have guessed the truth. What offense had she committed?
 
“Good girl.” One of Jack’s hands settled in between Miranda’s legs and cupped her vulva. “After everything we’ve been through together these past few weeks, it’s nice to see you finally really trusting me.” Jack’s hand began gently massaging Miranda’s sex as he spoke to her. “I mean, we’re comrades in … well, I’d say ‘arms’ but you don’t go armed, do you? All you’ve got on you when you head into the bush is what? A pair of medical shears?” Jack laughed. “Now I know you’re nuts.” Then he paused. “You know, I could get you a pistol to stick in your bag if you want. Kind of as a last resort. If you know how to shoot that is.” Jack’s hand never stopped caressing Miranda’s womanhood as he talked. “And I could teach you how if you don’t.” Another pause. “Something to think about maybe.”

Jack’s hand gave Miranda’s vulva a little squeeze. “Anyhow we’ve gone in harm’s way together. Had some drinks and broke bread together. And the sex …” one of Jack’s fingers began lightly stroking Miranda’s slick, open inner lips “… has been fucking awesome. So I think it’s fair to say that we’re not just comrades now, or friends with benefits or whatever, but something … more than that. Better than that.” Jack’s fingers circled around Miranda’s swollen, needy clit a time or two and then lifted away from her body; there was a pause and then …

… the thing touched Miranda between her legs and stayed there, pressing lightly against her sex; touching her like that, it felt awfully wide for a butter knife. “Which I guess brings me to the conversations we’ve had. I know some of them have been awfully hard for you, but I’ve really … well, enjoyed getting to know you. Where you've come from and what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours. Except …” the thing pressed down just a little harder “… it now seems as if you’ve been holding out on me quite a bit.” And then the pressure on Miranda’s womanhood eased up a tad. “Now don’t get me wrong I understand folks don’t go blabbing about everything to total strangers. And I also think that ladies do deserve their little secrets as well; that’s just part of the game.” The pressure went back to being … probably not painful or even uncomfortable exactly, but just noticeably … there. “But we’re not strangers anymore, right? So the fibbing, the … paltering around about important things like some politician … is over.” The pressure disappeared for a moment and then the thing tapped down on Miranda’s vulva … not hard enough to hurt her physically, but just hard enough to let her know it definitely wasn’t a butter knife …

“Understand?”
 
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Miranda was tingling in the most pleasant of ways as Jack's hand began to explore her sex. Again, she kept her groans to a minimum as he teased her, though couldn't stop from squirming when his fingertips began to slide through her wetness. Her clit throbbed almost painfully, demanding attention, and yet was denied as he danced around it. Her hips arched slightly, pressing her pussy into his hand, unconsciously trying to control the pleasure she was feeling. Naturally, that was also denied as he ignored what she wanted in favor of what he wanted her to feel.

Beyond the sweet tortures he inflicted upon her body, he also set her ears burning with his words. Did he really consider them something more than just friends with benefits? She found herself conflicted by that confession. There was no escaping her attraction to the man and the way her body responded to his hands. She couldn't deny the intense pleasure he'd already made her feel, or the satisfaction she'd taken away from each of their encounters. Even that first humiliating evening at the party when nothing seemed to go as planned, and she'd humped his erection to climax in embarrassing fashion, Jack had nothing but her pleasure in mind. She trusted him, of course, but did she have feelings for him? Something deeper than a casual fling?

If not for the guilt she felt from lying to him to save her life and her career, she might have agreed with him.

Her breath caught as his touch suddenly withdrew,, only to be replaced by that hard metal (?) object. She swallowed another groan as he teased her, stimulating, pressing. Just as she was growing accustomed to the sensation, he tapped against her sensitive bits with enough pressure make her gasp.

"Yes," she answered, nearly breathless. "Jack... what do you want to know?"

Her stomach dipped again. She'd told him a great deal more than she'd intended to, but there were things that she just couldn't confess. Not without risking their friendship.
 
The thing between Miranda’s legs vanished as soon as she gasped out the word ‘Yes’ and a moment later it was replaced by Jack’s hand, which went back to gently massaging and stroking her. “Good girl” he initially said, in a lighter tone than the one he’d been using up to that point. Then he went on.

“I want to know that if something else important comes up … something that can affect us … that you won’t try to hide it from me. That we’ll talk about it as best we can, like real grownups.” Jack’s hand stilled, but continued to cup Miranda’s vulva. “I know talking about … Thomas was, is hard for you. But when I asked you if you were married, you could have answered with something besides ‘No;’ you could have said ‘Not anymore, but I don’t want to talk about it now’ or whatever. I would have understood Miranda.” Jack’s voice brightened a little bit as his hand resumed its caresses. “Anyway, now you understand. You’re still going to be punished for your fibbing of course, but …” Jack’s fingertips teased Miranda’s clit for a second “… I think you may have earned a little mercy there as well.”

Jack’s hand came away from Miranda’s body as his weight lifted off the bed. Then her knees were brought together and she was rolled to her side from the waist down. As Miranda was momentarily held that way she could feel a pillow being pushed up against her butt, so that when she was rolled back her hips were slightly elevated. Then her knees were gently parted once again, and her feet were nudged upward a little too to spread her legs even further; combined with the pillow Miranda could now feel that her sex was fully on display.

Jack’s weight settled onto the bed lower down, between Miranda’s legs. She could feel one of his shoulders press against her right leg, keeping it in place, while one of his hands took hold of her left foot and gently massaged her arch for a moment, just like he’d done the other night. Then his fingers moved up to lightly glide over the sensitive skin on the inside of Miranda’s left thigh. “Every part of you is absolutely gorgeous, you know that?” Jack’s caresses stopped as his weight shifted a little more and he went on. “You know what’s coming next. Just try to hold still as best you can; it’ll be over quicker that way and we’ll also keep the bed dry.” There was another slight pause and shift in Jack’s weight, and then a smooth, ice cold object touched Miranda’s warm skin once again – this time on the inside of her left thigh, inches away from her completely exposed pussy …
 
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