Tag Archives: Jake

Breaking a Sweat

Sexy thoughts are far from my mind as I sip my “swamp juice”—a brownish concoction of fruit, protein, flax meal, & chia seeds. But Jake’s hands—brushing my bare neck, and then lower, to my damp sports bra, reel me in.

He just got back from the gym while I worked out at home, and we’re both hot and disheveled, both feeling strong and endorphin-rush happy.

I close my eyes as he awakens my nipples through the thin pink fabric, his muscular frame pressed against me from behind.

“I love the way you look after working out, sweaty and flushed,” he says.

He turns me around, and then a soft, slow kiss—my body is tired from sweating and lifting, and suddenly, a prize.

He draws me towards the bedroom, guiding me as I walk backwards, and we stay lip-locked on the way. One of my favorite things about working out at home is that I can do it in underwear and a sports bra—and they’re both off quickly.

“I want to lick your sweaty pussy,” he says.

My bush is soft and wet, and he dives right in, immersing himself in my juices. I relax into the bed, closing my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his tongue moving slowly across my vulva. His strong arms grip my legs.

“Mmm, that feels good baby.”

He dips a finger in, inviting my g-spot to join in on the pleasure—“yes.”

My arousal builds, blood rushing to my labia and clit. I get kind of zen—I can picture my g-spot, visualize it swelling and filling.

My orgasm already seems within reach, but I’m not ready yet.

“I want some cock now,” I say, wiggling out from beneath his mouth, and within seconds I swallow him. He groans—that groan I love so much, the one I’ve heard so many times over our almost 7 years together.

I look up into his eyes as I suck up and down, my tongue on his frenulum, my hands on his balls. I know eye contact makes him crazy.

“You’re the queen of blow jobs,” he says, smiling.

“Mmm hmm”—I answer, as much as I can with a mouth full of cock.

He touches my hair.

I know he means it–he’s had his share of blowjobs. Sometimes he likes to show me off—give other men a taste of my lips, my skills. I love that.

“I want to taste your pussy again,” he says.

This is common for us—we both want to taste each other, we both get pleasure out of giving—so it’s a wonderful back and forth of mouths to genitals. Sometimes that’s all we do—oral is amazing sex on its own.

But today I want to get fucked.

We stop for a quick break so I can pee—a necessary thing for post workout, post water guzzling sex.

I come back to find he’s laid out the throe and lubed up his cock, stroking it as he waits.

Perfect.

His thoughtfulness and anticipation of my needs turns me on just as much as his hard thighs, his vibrant tattoos, his gorgeous, long curly hair, and his big, strong, hands.

Those hands are soon on my ass as I get on all fours in front of him.

“I love your big ass,” he says.

I turn my head, looking back at him, looking at my ass.

“And I love how strong your pussy smells right now.”

“Me too,” I say.

It’s true. The whole room smells like me. My huge bush holds my scent well—even more so after being intensely physical. I love the smell of cock too, but nothing compares to the smell of vulva, mine or others. It’s so. Fucking. Good.

He slides inside of me.

The next few minutes are a blur of thrusts, gasps, and wet noises, and then he flips me over.

My clit aches to be touched.

Now I’m facing him—my eyes lock with his.

“Go slow baby, it feels so intense,” I say.

He does as I ask, his cock nudging gently at my g-spot as he grips my open thighs.

It’s not long before I’m gasping “faster,” but now he’s enjoying the tease.

My fingers circle my clit, his thrusts quicken, but just as I feel my orgasm is close again, he slows.

I can tell this orgasm will be blended—my clit throbs, hard with blood, and my g-spot swells with his teasing. Every time he senses I’m close, he pulls back.

His grin tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Sweat drips across his chest—he’s working so hard for me.

I look into his eyes, desperate. I can’t wait much longer.

He thrusts faster and doesn’t slow down this time.

I’ve come to the point where I can’t really think, and my noises and moans are involuntary and increasingly louder.

“Fuck, fuck fuckkk,” I moan, my face surely scrunched up in a weird, orgasm-drawn expression.

He pounds into me as I stroke my clit, furiously now—I’m caught up in an orgasm that doesn’t stop, my cunt squeezing his cock.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna come”—his words come out, frantic.

I ride my orgasm, gasping “yes,” as he pulls out, his come sprinkling my bush.

“That felt so fucking good,” I say, giggling in post orgasm bliss.

We’re both soaked.

“Thank goddess for throes,” I say.

“And showers,” he says.

wickedwed

Rinsing Off

pennysblog_showerjake

I didn’t think I would have time to take a new photo for Sinful Sunday this week, but luckily I caught Jake in the shower before he left for work…I got some sudsier ones as well, but I’ll save those for another time. 😉

PS- This was my first time using the external flash I had to buy for class, and if you know me you know I generally dislike flash. Flash you say? Yea who cares; Jake’s naked and wet. Yum.

Sinful Sunday

His for the Night

It was my first time.
I knew he could tell;
His blue eyes reflected
My nervousness, and
His excitement.

“Take off your panties,” he said,
“Leave your heels on.”
I tried my best to look calm
As I slid them off, slowly.
His look was like a touch,

Moving from my feet to my legs,
Pausing at my cunt, then up
To my stomach,
My breasts,
My neck, lingering
On my face.

My skin tingled.
By the time he kissed me,
I was already wet.

He didn’t have to say the words,
I could feel them.
His rough hands pulled me in.

“You’re mine,” they said.

His for the NightPhoto of Jake and I by Steve DeMent Photography

*This image was published in  Fetfan Magazine Issue 04 (p.28)

Sinful Sunday

The Beginning

After drinks and dancing with friends on 6th street all night, I texted Jake to see if he was working and could give me a ride home. We’d only met a few nights before when I wrote down my number on a napkin at the pizza shop where he worked, but he seemed interested.

When we got to the parking lot at my apartment, he kissed me for the first time, his tongue swirling with mine as I softly gripped his face. He was overwhelming sexy with curly blonde hair, rough hands, and sincere confidence, and I wanted to invite him up, to have sex with him that night, but I was on my period, and I told him that. I wondered if he thought I was making it up as an excuse to wait, and I told him that as well. He said he believed me.

We sat in his Jeep talking for what seemed like hours. He told me he was from New York, he had moved to Austin about 4 years before, and had spent the majority of that time in a relationship that ended a few months prior. It didn’t seem like he was hung-up on her or dwelling in the past, it just seemed honest. I told him about how I moved here around the same time he did to go to UT, and how I’d recently returned from an unforgettable trip studying abroad in Argentina.

We talked music, and I lifted my black dress up to show him my Chili Peppers tattoo. I only later realized that he got a good look at my blue panties. The way he openly offered information and stories from his past made me feel like there must be deeper layers that he didn’t share so easily. We kissed goodnight, and I went upstairs alone.

The next day we went out to eat at Pluckers, a wing bar in walking distance of my apartment, and he told me more stories from New York, about how people often picked fights there and how everyone seems easier going in Texas. Our faces and fingers were messy with sauce the whole time; neither of us cared.

This time I invited him up afterwards, but I told him I was still on my period. I wondered if he thought I was weird for continuously bringing up, but I honestly just really wanted to have sex with him already and didn’t want the first time to be a bloody mess. He didn’t seem to mind.

After lots of making out and a few glasses of Fernet, he came up from behind me, one hand holding my chin and the other touching softly over my skirt. I moaned into him, wrapping my arms back around him, warmth budding between my legs at the thought of his fingers on my skin. I felt his own excitement growing beneath his jeans. He pulled my skirt up, tracing my lips over my cotton thong and pulling my mouth to his. As we kissed he moved beneath my panties, and everything faded except his fingers on my clit and his hot breath on my ear.

My orgasm came easily, as if it had been waiting patiently all along, and he was simply coaxing it out from inside of me. I was beyond impressed with his skill as well as my body’s deep response to his touch. I wanted more, and I wanted to return the favor. The blowjob I gave him on the futon after was rushed but thrilling since my roommate could come home at any moment and catch us.

A few days later I got a text from him inviting me to go watch a movie at his place. And this time my period was finally over…

wickedwed

This story was written in response to the “Memories” prompt for Wicked Wednesday.