“Definitely,” Rebecca agreed. “Talk tomorrow?”
“Oh yeah! Love!” And Emma killed the call.
Still stroking his head, she said to Jack. “Mmm, you’ve been very good. I was really enjoying that. Stand up. Let’s have a look at you.”
Jack crawled out from under the table and stood, eyes closed, flexing his back and neck to work out some kinks. He jerked as Emma’s hands closed on his mostly-stiff erection.
“I think we can do better than that,” she said, as she leaned in to take him into her mouth. It only took a minute for him to return to full hardness.
“There!” she said, pleased with the effect. Standing, she pushed the remains of dinner further away, and bent over the table, presenting herself to him. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Now I want you to fuck me hard until I reach orgasm, and then I want you stop, and just rest inside me while I come. But make sure you don’t come as well — I want to finish you off myself afterwards. Understand?”
Jack was straining for release. He took a deep breath. “I’ll try. You look really sexy like that.”
Over her shoulder, her smile softened. “Thank you. Now fuck me.”
A small step forward, and Jack slipped straight into her. He knew she was already wet and ready, and he quickly established a fast rhythm, his hips slapping into her backside as she braced herself. After several hours of being in a near-constant state of arousal, Jack’s body was eager to reach climax, and he tried desperately to distract himself to avoid coming. How about up-cycling that old TV cabinet in the shed into a drinks cabinet instead, and selling it? Emma braced herself with her hands, pushing back into him in time with his rhythm, helping him go deeper. Could put shelves on the inside of the doors, like on a fridge door. She was making a small sound of arousal each time he thrust his hips forward, each one pulling him closer to orgasm. “uh-uh-uh-uh-uh”. God she feels good. She looks so hot. No. Don’t think about that. What would weight in the doors do to the balance? Don’tComeYetDon’tComeYet.
“God, that’s good,” Emma said, her head hanging down. “A bit harder.” He increased the impact for each thrust. “A bit bit faster”. He increased speed accordingly. “Oh, god, yes, that’s it. Fuck me like that.”
That’s really not helping me hold on. Her aroma filled the air from her juices still on his face, mixed with the cologne she’d laid out for him. The feel of her hips in his hands excited him. The way her backside squashed into his pelvis as he penetrated her. Will need to do something to the wood. Make it look more attractive. She reached between her legs with one hand, and began fingering herself. Oh god. That’s so hot. Oh Jesus. She moaned again, a longer moan.
Cabinet would need. Stripping. Sanding. Staining. Polishing. Oh god. Can’t hold on.
“Harder!” Her fingers worked away, producing a rapid, wet sound.
Would have to. Figure out. How to make. Oh god. A mechanism to move the shelves inside. Oh Christ.
“Like that! Keep going like that!” Emma said urgently. Jack tried to maintain the pace, and not to increase in response to her growing heat. “Yes. Oh god I’m close keep going keepgoingkeepOH GOD YES Uuuhhhhhh!” She collapsed forward onto the table, one hand between her legs, the side of her face resting on her forearm on the table. She let out a long groan: “Gggnnnnnnn!”
It took Jack a couple of seconds after her orgasm started to remember that he was supposed to stop, so he thrust in one more time, and then held himself there, deep inside her. He held tight to her hips, keeping the pressure up, rammed in as far as he could be. He was grateful he’d been able to hold off from coming so far, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet — her vagina spasmed, squeezing him, and her expression, as the waves passed over her, was deeply erotic. Polishing. Sanding wood. Christ that feels good. Don’tComeDon’tComeDon’tCome. New brass fittings.
After a minute, Emma relaxed, and straightened up into a standing position, withdrawing herself from him. “That,” she said, “was perfect.” She embraced him and kissed him deeply, one hand between his shoulders, the other on his butt.
“One last job,” she said, “and you get your reward.”
***
The last job was the washing up. A pizza for one doesn’t create much in the way of dirty dishes, but Emma had carefully made sure the dishwasher wasn’t used at all during the day, so there were more things to wash up. “I want you to wash everything up, by hand, and I’m going to watch. And then you’ll be done.” As Jack filled the sink with hot water and stirred it into a mass of foamy bubbles, Emma turned on the oven, deposited the half-empty bottle back in the fridge, and retrieved her glass and her plate with the last slices of uneaten pizza, now cold. She settled down at the kitchen table, knees crossed, and nibbled a slice. “Mmm, there’s certainly something about having a hot naked guy doing the washing up. This definitely should happen more often.” She sipped her wine with a smirk on her face.
Jack had washed a few cups and plates when she approached and pressed herself up against him, from behind. One hand grasped his chest; another buried itself in his hair. He could feel her body up close against his backside. “Mmm,” she whispered in his ear, as she slid her bare thigh up the outside of his leg. “You smell so good. And you feel so good.” She rubbed her whole body against him, making him stir yet again. Her hands slid down his body, along his abdomen, and then grasped his penis and testicles, squeezing lightly. Jack shivered with pleasure, closing his eyes, his hands stilling in the water. The delicate fingers continued their exploration, squeezing, tugging, teasing. And once more, she whispered in his ear. “Did I say you could stop?”