Jules 08 – The Safety of Home?

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Author’s Note: This is a chapter in a multi-part story and is not intended to stand alone. This is my first attempt at writing erotica, so feedback is highly encouraged.


I find J waiting patiently on a bench outside the store. “Mission accomplished, I see,” she nods to the envelope. I just stare at her wordlessly. My mind is a jumbled mess of emotions that I don’t have the energy to sort out. “Let’s get you home.”

J orders dinner to be delivered and opens a bottle of wine, as I retreat to a much needed shower. She doesn’t even complain as I emerge in well-worn sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, sensing my need for familiar comforts. I eat ravenously, but I notice J mostly pushes the food around her plate. This woman really never eats. With my belly full and a glass of wine behind me, I begin to feel almost human again.

More wine flows and I relate the events of my encounters with Lisa and James. J listens with genuine concern and asks probing questions. She draws out my innermost feelings on the events and I feel powerless to hide from her. My thoughts on Lisa are uncomplicated, if a bit surprising. She pushed me outside of my comfort zone in a multitude of ways. I found it exciting and my body responded in kind. J took particular interest in the way the encounter ended, with me sacrificing my own pleasure to exert control over the situation and enforce the bounds of the deal.

My thoughts on James are a bit more complex. On the surface it seems quite simple. Sam took a dislike to me and wanted to embarrass me while giving James a cheap thrill. But in reality, there’s much more to it than that. Was James the real victim? Our ‘show’ was supposed to humiliate me, not him. But in the end, he was retreating in shame and I was… what? It’s hard to admit, but I was incredibly turned on.

My arousal was certainly not due to any desirability or prowess on James’ part. I feel a lot of things for him: sympathy, affection and a growing, almost maternal protectiveness. But lust is nowhere near this equation. Instead, my arousal was fueled by the sheer depravity of our performance. The thrill of being watched, the expanses of flesh that I had bared, the tease of flesh that remained hidden, the desire I stoked in James and Ryan and maybe even Sam.

And then came the guilt. Had I used James? Sam had said he needed to ‘live a little,’ and it would be easy to write off his involvement as eve gelen escort exactly that. After all, it’s not everyday that he gets to grope and fondle an attractive woman while she grinds on him until he cums in his pants. That was quite likely the sum total of his sexual experience. I’m sure Ryan would have jumped at the chance to trade places with him.

And yet, James didn’t get any say in it. The entire situation was presupposed on his virginity and his acquiescence. He was an innocent bystander, that ended up being the punch line. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve done him a grave injustice. Until now, I’ve been able to tell myself that I was an unwilling, or at least reluctant, participant. But did I really have to take things as far as I did? Did I just get carried away or did I use James to fulfill some lewd, exhibitionist instinct I didn’t even know I had? Worse yet, did I rob him of the opportunity to experience these emotions and sensations with someone he cares about and who cares about him?

In the end, these questions are just too big and my emotional state too frazzled. J and I retire to the couch with something mindless on the TV to distract me from the events of the day. J moves behind me and begins to rub my shoulders. Her touch is exquisite and I feel some of the day’s tension melt away. I have so many more questions, but I can’t bring myself to ask them. After all of the chaos and turmoil of the day, I won’t do anything to disrupt the comfort I feel in this quiet moment. There’s only one nagging need that isn’t being met…

“You know,” J breathes into my ear. I blush a little as she picks that specific thought to interrupt. “If your story was accurate, and I have no reason to doubt it was…” Her hands move from my shoulders, slowly down my back until they slip under the hem of my shirt. I gasp quietly as her fingers trace across the bare skin of my back and around to my belly. “I’ll bet you’re still feeling a bit…” I moan as her fingers slip beneath my waistband.

“…unfulfilled.” One finger parts my moistening lips and slides into the hungry depths below. One finger, then two saw in and out of my most intimate area, before withdrawing to rub and tease my clit. J’s other hand snakes up my shirt and she pinches my nipple. Hard. J coos into my ear “Let go, Little Butterfly. Cum for me.” and then bites down on my earlobe. There istanbul eskort bayan is no slow build up this time. My orgasm rushes up with explosive force. It’s as if every ounce of tension, every shard of pent up energy erupts out of me in a single, delicious moment. I cry out unintelligibly, as release washes over me. Then for the second time in as many days, all of my senses fade to black.

This time, my sleep is blissfully uninterrupted. I am wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort that the concerns of the waking world cannot penetrate. Consciousness returns slowly, one sense at a time. The smell of fresh coffee. The feel of cool air playing lightly over my naked body. The sound of J’s melodious voice, welcoming me back to reality. “Good morning, sleepy head. I trust you slept well?”

“Mmm, yes.” I purr, still not willing to open my eyes. Memories of the night before slip back into my mind. “What happened?”

“Well, you had one earth-shattering orgasm,” she chides. “And then you slept like a baby.” I slowly open my eyes and begin to take stock of my surroundings. A cup of coffee sits steaming on the nightstand next to me, filling the air with its delicious aroma. “I had hoped you were going to return the favor,” J continues, “but I guess rest was more important. Understandable, but you owe me one.” She smiles, obviously amused, before continuing. “You were out for 12 hours, so I had to find other ways to entertain myself.”

My eyes follow J’s voice to where she sits and several things begin to compete for the limited brainpower I have available in the morning fog. J is sitting casually at the foot of my bed. She is already dressed and her hair and makeup look as perfect as always. How is this woman always so presentable? I am lying on my back on top of the covers, my clothes are noticeably missing. A towel is spread underneath my lower body, my legs are splayed wide and my pubic area has been shaved completely bare. As she talks to me, J is idly tapping away on a phone. My phone.

“I’ve been chatting with Paul a bit this morning, pretending to be you. I have to say, bad choice. You can do much better!”

“WHAT?!?” I call out, sitting bolt upright.

J giggles at my reaction. “A word of warning, bored and horny is a dangerous combination for me. Did you know those pictures of your little performance in the restroom came from your phone? No? You should really rezidans escort keep closer tabs on this thing.” She holds my phone up as if to demonstrate. “Anyway, I sent a couple to Paul last night.” She says, as if it’s completely normal.

“What? Why?” I’m in shock and can’t get past single syllables.

“Mostly I wanted to see his reaction. You can tell a lot about someone by the way they react to the unexpected. Paul’s reaction was… disappointing.” No surprise there. My ex can be a lot of things. He can be cute and charming and a whole lot of fun. But he can also be a bit of a pig. He hasn’t quite grown completely out of his obnoxious frat boy phase. He was always asking me to send him nudes or let him film us having sex. I never relented because I didn’t trust him. I didn’t want them to end up on the internet or be used to boast to his friends. I guess that cat is out of the bag. I chuckle morbidly at the unintended pun.

“What did he say?” I ask with growing horror.

“He was surprised, understandably. I played it off like you were drunk and didn’t mean to send them to him. I asked him to delete them, but he said he’d only do it for a blowjob.”

“”You can’t be serious?!?”

“Which reminds me, we need to get moving. You’re supposed to be at his place at 10 so you have time before his friends come over to watch the game. Oh, and he wants his Packers t-shirt back.”

The sheer casualness of her tone makes me think I misheard her. It takes a few beats for my brain to catch up. “Why would you do that, J? You said you were my friend.” I cradle my head in my hands, unable to comprehend the situation.

“First of all, bored and horny is bad. Remember?” I’m not amused. “In all seriousness, this will be good for you. You can regain some power in that relationship.”

I’m flabbergasted. “There is no relationship! He cheated on me and I dumped him. How much more power do I need?!?”

“That’s just it. He feels like he got away with it. He got to double dip for a while, and then move on to his new thing. You need to make him realize what he lost. Prove to him, and yourself for that matter, that he didn’t get an upgrade. You are a butterfly – a beautiful, sexy butterfly. Make him rue the day he ever wandered.”

My head is spinning. I had fully intended to never see Paul again. I had certainly not intended to send pictures like THOSE to him. And the thought of a blowjob to get them back… But J just sits there, looking at me expectantly and somehow all of my freewill just seems to drain away. “Ugh! Do I have a choice at this point?”

“You are powerful, Little Butterfly. You always have a choice!” That damn smirk returns. “But you also know that you’ll play the game.”

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