Friday, November 29, 2013

Bend Over - Part Two

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Week Four Excerpt - Part Two
Read Part One Here
Welcome back to the wonderful world of NaNoWriMo, where I try to write a novel in a month. As promised, here's the continuation from what I posted for Week Three of this literary adventure. As always, please enjoy.

Phil heard Pip laugh and felt the rough wool of her dress flutter against his back as it went over her head. He felt her press herself—the firm silk of her body and the delicate lace of her bra and panties—against him before she wrapped her hand around his cock.

He let his head fall back onto her shoulder. Fuck. “Yeah,” he moaned as her touch tightened and loosened, her fingers dancing, over his hard flesh. His hips thrust, the oil on his ass making him slide over the cushion and into her fist. “More,” he begged as she tightened her grasp. Oh God. He pumped his hips more, his bound hands pulling against the chair’s back, loosening the knot.

“Oh, God, I’m close,” he grunted. “I’m going to come.” Pip grabbed the towel from his wrists as he gripped the back of the chair.

His hips bucked forward, his balls pulling tight, readying to shoot his load, as he felt her towel-wrapped hand close around his cock. He grabbed her wrist tight in his hands as he came into the terrycloth, shuddering with his body’s release. “Fuck.” Pip. “Fuck.”


Pip kissed the back of Phil’s neck, licking a salty drop of sweat from his nape. 

“Thank you,” she heard him mutter against her cheek, his head bent back and toward her, resting in the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

She smiled, finding his gratitude novel and oddly endearing. She turned to lay a kiss on his forehead. “You’re very welcome,” she told him sweetly, “but, you know, it was fun for me too.”

“Not quite the same,” he pointed out as he shrugged out of his shirt and turned around in the chair to face her, surrounding her in the warm, strength of his legs. 

God, he looked good. For a desk-jockey geek, Phil looked good without a shirt. Not exactly a gym-buff body-builder, but still slim and flat-bellied. She wanted to run her hands up and down the smooth expanse of him. Her eyes slid lower, inhaling deeply as she saw his soft, exhausted length lay languid and sated between his legs. She smiled. A sign of a job well done.

“But I can change that,” he promised her as he lay his hand against her cheek and pulled her close for a kiss.

Mmm, yes, she was right; Phil Schaffer tasted good. Warm. Wet. And male. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her too. His hand moved to cup her neck, holding her close as his other hand gripped her hip and pulled her onto his lap. He held her against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Phil kissed her thoroughly and eagerly, loving—adoring—her mouth. He gave her several small, quick, biting kisses before leaning back. “Not that I’m not having fun in the kitchen,” he said, his voice a low rasp, “but where’s your bedroom?”

Pip grinned and pulled him close again as she lay her forehead against his. “You have the best ideas,” she said as she gripped the towel in her hand. Swiftly, she hooked the towel around his neck and stood, dragging him up with her as if on the world’s shortest leash.

“Ugh,” he groaned, wrinkling his nose in disgust, “I can feel the wet spot on the towel.”

“It’s your come,” she pointed out, leading him out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Don’t tell me you’ve never touched it before.”

“Not with the back of my neck,” he pointed out as he followed her.

“Bet that’d be one pretty impressive wank though,” she said with a laugh.

“I’m almost certain the trajectory,” he said sardonically, “is physically impossible for a human.”

Pip laughed. “Mmm, yeah, nerdy dirty talk;” she said, only half-joking, “the best kind.”

“You are the oddest woman,” he murmured as he let himself be dragged down a short hallway and into her bedroom’s open doorway. 

Once in her room, Pip whisked the towel away, tossing it reflexively into the hamper by the door, and gave him a shove onto the bed.

But, before he could fall, he grabbed her hand, pulling her down onto the violent comforter with him. She squealed as he rolled them over, so he was above her, staring down with a look of triumph.

She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss as she wrapped her long legs around his waist, holding him almost where she wanted him. She felt his hands reach for the clasp of her garnet-colored lace bandeau bra. She smiled, feeling his frown against her mouth as his fingers found nothing but clasp-less band. She reached under her breasts and yanked the bra top over her head.

“Why do women do that?” he asked as he watched the cloth’s rise. “Wear all this complicated stuff that just gets in the way of us getting you naked faster?”

Pip laughed and sighed as she kicked him away with her foot, so she could take off her matching lace panties. “Men and lingerie,” she tsked sadly. “Despite what the industry would like us all to believe, it’s a sad, sad truth that women love lingerie way more than most men do. Lingerie exists more for women to get in the mood—to feel sexy and sexual and beautiful and desirable—and less for men, who as a general really probably couldn’t care less and would rather you naked and out of the fragile material that cost too much and they’re afraid they’ll ruin. But,” she said with a shake of her head as she reached for him, the frothy lace still dangling from her fingers and down his shoulder in a tickling tease, “could you guys please—please—do us the favor of just faking it. We fake lots of stuff for you; do us a solid and give us this.”

He grinned and kissed her. “I hope you’re not planning to fake anything tonight,” he said.

“I won’t plan on me faking,” she said with an impish tone, “if you don’t.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, raising up on his arms.

“I like to think of it as goal-setting,” she answered.

“Well, then,” he said as he tucked his arms under her knees, spreading her legs, “by all means, let’s see what we can do about meeting it.” Pip sat up on her elbows as she watched him move between her thighs.

God, the way he looked at her. His gaze focused on her cunt as he licked the corners of his lips, making her core clench in anticipation. He looked up into her eyes as he bent low, parting her labia, and closed his lips around her clit.

She moaned as her head fell back and she closed her eyes, the feel of his wet mouth on her so sweet. She felt his tongue lave her in tiny flicks and long licks that made her whole body quiver. “Mmm,” she moaned, “more. You can go rough.” She could take it; wanted to. She swiveled her hips against his lips. 

Pip balled her fists in her comforter as he made a small assenting noise and moved to nibble and suck on her long, dark, sensitive labia. Oh, God, yes.

Her back arched up long as he slid two fingers deep inside her pussy, already wet and ready for him. She bit her lip as he curled his long, capable fingers inside her, only to groan loudly as he began to move within her. She tilted her hips, pushing him deeper into her. 

He lay a restraining hand over her stomach as she bucked while his knuckles thrust inside her. Pip involuntarily grabbed his shoulder, her nails scratching skin. She flexed her hand against his back, so she didn’t dig her long, painted nails into his flesh. She’d marked him enough tonight without adding her claw marks to his back too. So she ground the heel of her hand into his shoulder instead. “Oh, that’s good,” she said, thrashing her head as she pulled herself up only to fall back onto the bed as sensation roiled inside her.

He grabbed her left leg and trailed kisses along her inner thigh, each lick and nip against her tender flesh pushing her closer and closer to her climax. 

Closer, but not close enough. 

“Dresser drawer,” she said as she tapped his shoulder.

He looked up at her curiously. “Dresser drawer?”

She nodded toward her lamp-side dresser. “Open it.”

She scooted up onto her pillows more as she watched him move toward the dresser. He opened it. “Whoa,” she heard him said as his eyebrows shot up.

Yeah, she had an impressive toy collection. In her profession, she had to. She had toys stashed everywhere. In her closet. Under her bed. Even in unopened boxes and packages in her living room. But her bedside drawer was special. A toy had to be her favorite to make it there. 

Her vibrating wand, that tore orgasms from her almost violently. A discreet but powerful bullet vibrator. Dildos of all shapes and sizes, colors and textures. “Pick one,” she urged, nodding toward the drawer. Didn’t matter which one, really. She knew each one intimately, knew how they worked upon her body, knew exactly how to use each one to get her over the edge.

He reached in and pulled out a rubber ducky. He held it up for her questioningly. “Really?”

She grinned. “Flip the switch,” she told him. “On the bottom.”

She laughed as he jumped while the obnoxiously yellow duck began to vibrate in his hand. “Jesus,” he said as he dropped it on her bed, leaving it to rumble mutedly in the rumpled covers. “Who makes stuff like this?” he asked as he picked the toy back up to look it over.

“Puss ‘n Boots,” Pip said. “They send me stuff all the time. I think that’s one of Lyle Martin’s toys. He’s local toy maker—tinkerer, really—who likes altering ordinary objects. Thinks it’s funny to have erotic toys hidden in plain sight.”

“You actually use this?” he asked skeptically. “To get off?”

Pip froze her face in a very serious expression as she blinked, trying not to giggle at his utterly baffled look. “Yes,” she said simply. “But, if you’d like proof, Science Guy, you could always see for yourself.”

Phil chuckled as he studied the duck in his hand and nodded. “I suppose I could.”

“For science,” Pip agreed.

Phil’s gray eyes twinkled. “For science.”


Phil squeezed the plastic toy in his hand. It squeaked. The duck actually squeaked, even as it continued to vibrate against his palm. Now that was one perverted pervertable.

“It’s waterproof too,” Pip said as she stretched out her long legs, displaying her tempting sex. 

Phil’s eyes narrowed on her pussy, looking warm and welcoming. He’d never been with a woman with long labia like hers. He wouldn’t have thought he’d like it—not that he’d thought he wouldn’t; he’d never really thought about it one way or another—but, damn, if he hadn’t loved the sounds she made as he nibbled on her and she squeezed her thighs around his head like a vice, trapping him against her sweet, wet sex.

“Waterproof, huh?” he said as he made the duck squeak again. He grinned. That sounded like a challenge to him. He crawled closer again. She’d gotten so wet for him, soaked really. He’d heard about women who ejaculated—squirted, though he’d never much cared for the crass term—and he’d always thought it was just a myth or some physiological misinterpretation. The women he’d been with had a hard enough time lubricating enough for sex at all; he had a hard time imagining a woman with the opposite reaction.

But he wondered if Pip were such a woman. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared at her, determined to find out. 

Phil settled himself between her legs and stared at the duck, a little baffled. Which part did he use where? It wasn’t as if he’d been giving an instructional manual and Lord knew he didn’t have a clue as to how the rubber duck was supposed to bring her to orgasm.

“You doing all right down there?” she asked, sitting up a bit.

“Sure,” he assured her. Well, she’d said he should do it for science and what was more scientific than some experimentation? He held the duck in his palm, feeling the vibrations pulse into his skin, and thought it was actually a pretty powerful vibrator inside the toy. He wondered what that would feel like on a thigh or a hip.

So he tried it. He slid it up her thigh, making her moan as he stroked it up her leg and down the other. He let it circle her mound and slip slickly over her sensitive labia lips lightly.

She thrust her hips up, pressing herself against his touch as she bit her bottom lip, small sounds of frustrated pleasure escaping her mouth. He smiled as he held his hand back, content to tease her for a while. Just to be cruel, he moved the toy from her vulva to the crease of her thighs as she squirmed and her breath hitched. “Phil,” she begged, “you are a mean, mean man.”

He laughed. Fine, fine. He touched the tip of the toy’s bill with is finger, the puckered mouth of the duck seeming to be built to fit her delicate clit. He tucked the tip between the lips of her sex, just at the mouth of her vagina, making small circles to collect her juices. God, she smelled amazing. Hot and sweet and excited. He thumbed her lips open a bit, so he could watch her sex clench and release in anticipation. God, he wanted to know what that felt like on his tongue, his hand, his cock.

But, first, he drew the bill up and touched it against her clit. She cried out and jerked her hips into the toy, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away. She didn’t need to. He savored the sight of her as she reveled in the toy’s sensation, her face scrunched as she fought for her orgasm.

“Almost, almost, almost,” she repeated it like a mantra as she tugged harder on his wrist, shoving him against her as she thrust up against him.

On a breaking breath, she came, her eyes slamming open as her whole body bowed, bucking most of her off the bed. With her legs over his shoulders and her grip crushing his grip, Phil felt her muscles tense as her climax claimed her. She sat there, for a long moment, seemingly frozen except for brief, rhythmic shudders that rocked her body just a bit as her system shocked.

And then, with a groan, she collapsed, curling forward as she wrapped herself around him. He turned so her head rested on his belly as her knees bent around his back. He wrapped his arms around her as her hot breath heaved against his middle. “God, that was amazing,” she breathed.

He chuckled. “You sound surprised,” he mused, unsure if the swell of pride he felt was justified. “You can’t tell me that was a first for you.” Pip didn’t seem like the kind of woman who had many firsts left.

“No,” she admitted with a shrug. “Doesn’t make it any less amazing.” 

She moved to sit up, making him instantly miss the loss of her warmth against him. She looked at him, worried resignation replacing pleasure on her face. 

He hated that. Pip had the kind of face that should never frown. If he could manage it, he’d never let anything but a never-ending cycle of desire and satisfaction touch her dark, classic features.

She bit the inside of her cheek, looking anything but satisfied. “Does it bother you that I’ve had past partners? That I’m not some fresh-faced virgin?” she asked. 


Because she couldn’t change it, if it did. 

And wouldn’t. 

Not for anybody. 

She was a product of her past. She wouldn’t be who she was today without, at least in part, every partner she’d ever had. So she refused to be ashamed of her past and she would never allow someone to even try to make her so.

“I know you’re not a virgin, Pip,” Phil assured her with a scoff. “Believe me, I knew it before we started. You’ve probably had more partners than I have.”


“Do you want the number?” She shrugged. Again, she wasn’t ashamed and, if he wanted to know, she supposed he had the right.

“What?” he asked, shocked. “No,” he sputtered, his gray eyes almost panicked. “Why?”

She took a deep breath as she grabbed her pillow and hugged it in front of herself. “You just seem preoccupied by it.” By them. The parade of faceless men and women he probably imagined she had by the group-full. 

And, it wasn’t like she hadn’t had her group-filled experiences, but she didn’t like the idea of being defined by them either. Her frown deepened even as his fingers sought to ease her furrowed brow.

He sighed and grabbed her hand, tugging aside the pillow and hauling her close to him again. She didn’t struggle as he held her, but still held herself back until she heard him said, “I’m sorry.” He heaved another sigh. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time about it,” he said. “I guess it makes me more uncomfortable than I want to admit.”

“Why?” she asked, settling onto his lap as his arms wrapped around her more fully. She wondered if he felt inadequate. She’d met men before who had. Who’d seen her history as a challenge or a threat. Something they had to prove themselves against or was a constant reminder of their limited experience that could never catch up to hers. She bit her lip, knowing that kind of thinking was hard to overcome and rarely left either of them feeling very good about themselves.

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess, right now, this all feels new to me. Like seeing a new country for the first time or something.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, his usually meticulously maintained sandy blond hair now bed-mussed and rumpled. “And, while it’s fantastic getting to explore that place with a local—who knows the area and speaks the language—I guess, it’s a hard pill to swallow knowing that, while this is all new to me, it’s nothing special to you.”

Pip sat up and stared him in the face. “This is special,” she told him. “It may not be new or novel, but it’s special.” Because it was with him. She had done all this stuff before—with herself, with others—who-knew-how-many times before. 

But she’d never done it with him before now. 

She cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. “It’s special.”


Phil shut his eyes as he let her kiss him, her tongue a sweet stroke in his mouth. He didn’t know why he needed to hear that. Why it made any difference at all. But he had and it did.

He felt her hands in his hair as she pulled him down onto the mattress with her again. She gripped his cock in her hands as they cuddled on the comforter, squeezing his hardening shaft. He groaned into her open mouth. He tried to roll himself over her, but she was quick and stronger than she looked.

She had him underneath her, with her long legs straddling his hips and her hand still firmly around him, before he could so much as think about struggling. She bent low to dig about in her toy drawer. His body jerked, bucking against her, as she pulled out a condom, the shiny wrapper looking as welcome as Christmas morning.

She made short work of the condom, slipping it on him with a practiced ease that made him a little uneasy even as it turned him on. He watched eagerly as she lifted her hips so she could slide him inside her.

He bit back a moan as he fought to keep his eyes open against the intense pleasure of her taking him inside her. She was so tight. Warm. And wet. Her hips swiveled as her body adjusted to the fill before she began to ride him in slow, steady strokes. Up and down. Up and down. The rhythm of it soothing the need inside him. He wanted her to continue doing that forever.

But he needed her to take him faster. 

His hands gripped her waist as he tilted his hips, pushing his dick deeper inside her. He felt her sex quiver, the sensation perfect. He needed that. He began to pump beneath her. Limited by his position, he thrust anyway, that extra quarter of an inch worth every effort as they bucked.

Especially, when she moaned and picked up speed, riding him in earnest, as eager to chase that feeling as he was. He felt her sex clench against him, her pussy squeezing him, pulling as she pumped.

He could feel his orgasm build in his balls, tightening them as he tried to stave it off. He looked up at her as she still climbed her peak. She needed to catch up to him. He reached out his hand and reached for the duck again. He slid the duck between them backward so the upturned tail flicked and pressed against her clit with her every thrust. He bit his lip against the buzz of the duck’s backside bumping against the base of his dick.

She cried out, her head falling back as she ground a little harder down with every push. Yeah, he thought as he watched her, yeah. C’mon, just a little more. He placed a hand on her waist, directing her ride, forcing her hard against him.

When she came, he felt it, her muscles clenching all around him in spasms. He groaned as he let himself go, emptying himself inside her as her pleasure fueled his.


Pip collapsed on top of Phil, resting her head against his shoulder as she felt his cock continue to twitch inside her. Each shudder of his body triggering one in hers. If she were honest, this was her favorite part of sex, where every nerve felt alive and every touch felt like heaven.

She never wanted to move from this spot. Even though her thighs burned from her efforts and her knees were tired and stiff, she’d have happily stayed astride him forever, tucked into the curve of his shoulder. She licked a bead of sweat from behind his ear, the salty taste delicious on her tongue.

“I get the appeal now,” he murmured, his voice a rumble she felt through his chest.

“Of what?” she asked, nuzzling her nose in the soft hair just behind his ear.

“Of all this,” he said, picking up the duck and squeezing it so it squeaked in the room’s silence. “The toys. The games. The kink.”

“Do you?” she said with an obvious tone. She could feel him slowly soften inside her, could hear satisfaction in his voice.

“I always figured that kink was just unnecessarily complicating an already perfect process,” he said. “And, I must say,” he said, a touch of smugness tempering his tone, “the act is still pretty perfect. But the process of getting there…” He trailed off. He shrugged, lifting her a bit with his shoulder as she smiled. “Like I said, I get the appeal.”

“So think you’ll be able to understand Sam a little better now?” she asked.

She felt him squirm beneath her a bit. “Can we not discuss my niece—especially not her sex life—while I’m still inside you?” he asked.

Fair enough. She chuckled as she lifted her hips so he could slide out of her, the feel of it almost orgasmic in and of itself. Yeah, she got that. “Okay,” she said, settling back over him as she threw her leg over his in a tangled sprawl, “what about your sex life? Now that you get the appeal, would you be interested in exploring it a bit more?”

“More experiments?” he asked as he curled his arm around her back.

“Absolutely,” she agreed as she toyed with his nipple, beading the small, pink flesh against her fingertip. “Donovan’s is having a party next weekend; I don’t suppose you’d want to go with me?”

She paused, letting the idea fill the space of her bedroom. They sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before he said, “For science?”

She laughed as she hugged him hard. “For science.”

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