Page 56 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
Jason looks over his shoulder at me, a smirk on his face. “That’s not necessary,” he says. “But I don’t hate it.”
I…don’t hate it, either.
I fetch a small bottle of lube and a condom from my kit in the bathroom and return to Jason.
“I’ve never done this before, so I’m going to need you to direct me.” He sounds completely confident, like it’s no sweat for him to admit that he doesn’t know something. It’s a huge turn-on, that confidence of his.
And then I realize the trap he’s laid for me. I’m going to have to tell him what I want him to do to me.
With words. Again.
But first, Jason sets the condom and lube bottle on the nightstand, then steps in front of me and slides his hands under my open shirt. When I lift my arms to put them around him, he steps back, shaking his head.
“No. I’d like you to stay as still as you can, please.”
“You’re going to have your way with me while I keep still?” I recall the other night when he asked me if I’d submit to him like that.
“I am. Unless you have an objection.”
I’m not sure there’s anything I’d object to, if Jason is the one doing it. “No objections.”
Jason trails the backs of his fingernails up my stomach and chest. When he gets to my collarbones, he spreads his hands wide and glides them across my chest to my shoulders. He pushes my shirt off my shoulders and it drops down to my wrists. Jason catches my wrists in his two hands, then repositions the fabric and my arms so my shirt essentially ties my arms in place at my sides.
“Okay?” Jason asks.
“Yeah.” It comes out a whisper. I lick my lips. We haven’t even done anything yet and I’m already as turned on as I’ve ever been.
Jason brings his hands to the waistband of my slacks. He takes his sweet time unbuttoning them, pulling the zipper down, sliding his hands under the fabric to slip it down. The pants pool at my feet and Jason leaves them there, trapping me in place. He ignores my underwear and instead puts his hands back on my shoulders.
He strokes both hands firmly down my arms, up my sides, down my chest, and up again. Like he’s learning by touch what makes me tense, what makes me sigh, and what makes me shiver. He strokes me over and over, until my eyes fall closed, and I sway on my feet a little.
It’s hypnotizing, what he’s doing to me. The whole world falls away and all that’s left is the feel of Jason’s hands on my body, the sound of his steady breathing in my ears, the smell of his shampoo wafting under my nose.
He steps around me, dragging his fingertips along my side waist, and then repeats the whole stroking thing. My shoulders, my back, my arms. There’s not a spot on my skin he hasn’t caressed, stroked, or squeezed.
Above my waist, that is.
“Jason, please.”
He’s doing this to make me beg, I’m pretty sure. And I’m equally sure I will beg, but it’s a little unseemly to start so soon.
“Please, what, Victor?” He’s behind me, mapping my shoulder blades with the spread of his hands.
“I thought you were going to fuck me, and I’d really like you to.”
“Oh, I will fuck you,” he promises. He steps closer and I can feel the warm length of his body pressed against mine. An even warmer, hard length nudges the fabric stretched over the cleft of my ass. “But I have other things I want to do to you first, so I’m afraid you’ll have to have some patience.”
I’m not very good at having patience. I’m more of a “have it all, have it now” kinda guy.
Though I suppose I have waited fifteen years for Jason to fuck me. Maybe I can wait another fifteen minutes.
He kisses that spot behind my ear that he knows I like, maybe as a reward. And then kisses and licks and nibbles all along the back of my neck, my shoulders, the top of my spine. All the while, his hands never stop moving. He slides them around my waist to my chest and strokes up and down, long, sweeping caresses, before his hands return to my pecs.
His fingers pluck at my nipples, igniting a line of sparks from my chest to my dick. My hands are still trapped by my shirt sleeves, my legs constrained by my pant legs, and Jason’s arms hold me upright and steady against his body.
I let my head fall back onto his shoulder. He kisses the side of my neck, wet, open-mouthed kisses, while pinching and squeezing my nipples. I’ve never come from just nipple play before and I don’t think I’m going to now, but my balls tighten and I can feel my leaking cock dampening my underwear.
Jason slides one hand down my chest and over my stomach. He stops right at the waistband of my boxer briefs, though, and teasingly drags the very tips of his fingers back and forth, just under the waistband.
