Dumb Luck Read online

  “No! Want more now,” she pouts.

  “Darling, I agree and honor your wish to have me inside you as much as possible. There’s one special thing that I can do that puts part of me in you while I recover, and it may help me recover faster because giving you pleasure excites me. Will you let me do that?”

  Keeping that adorable little pout on her face, she ponders that for a moment and then nods twice.

  “Sit up and have a drink of water, Myra. Your throat has to be raw.”

  “A little,” she says with a grin. I sit up on the edge of bed, and she rolls up to lean on her right arm. I hand her a glass of water, and then I drain the other myself. She hands me her empty glass. As I put it on the table, she pulls herself up to kneel behind me, digging her luscious breasts into the back of my shoulders.

  “Jack…”

  “Hmm?” I look over my shoulder into her eyes.

  “That was more than I even dreamed, Beloved.”

  “But you want more, right?”

  “Oh yeah verily, my Lord,” she grins

  “Myra, I could not have dreamed of love that intense.” We stare into each other's eyes for a moment. “Are you ready to surrender to my tender mercy in the name of a quicker recovery?

  She nods sagely, “Yes beloved.” And then she lays her head on the pillow, lying flat on her back reaching her arms for me.

  I lay myself on my left side, flush against her right side. Her arm is under mine, curled up my back. I slowly stroke her with my right hand from her throat to her mons - down, and up - setting a languid rhythm. Then as I reach the bottom of my stroke, I cup her sex and wet my fingers in her juices. I slowly tickle her clit until her breath starts to hitch, dipping down occasionally to keep my finger moist. When she starts to whimper, I slide my hand up and down her labia with the index and ring fingers on the outside.

  “Myra darling, raise your knees until your feet sit flat on the bed.” She complies, whimpering the whole time.

  I continue rubbing her like this three more times, and then I cup her one more time. Then I insert my middle and ring finger into her. I slide them slowing all the way in, and nearly pull them out as I curl them up. I repeat this until she is gasping faster than once per second. Then inserting them in to about the second knuckle, I quickly start making a ‘come here’ motion with them while leaving them sitting at that location. Her whimpered breaths speed up until she is panting a grunting noise and starting to try to move off my fingers. I plant my elbow above her shoulder and lay on her as much as I can and still allow myself to keep that all-important stimulation going.

  Suddenly she tries to push herself up on her hands and gasps out short little screams, and then it hits her. She screams continuously and repeatedly as her pussy clamps down on me and starts to squirt off the end of the bed. She gets away from me and crawls up the bed to stand over the headboard, gasping and squirting the whole time. I get my feet under me and reach up to catch her as she starts to collapse. I scoop her legs out from underneath her so she can lay down. Then I lay down next to her and pulled her up onto my shoulder. She eventually lifts a quivering leg onto mine and continues to shake for what seems like 15 minutes. ‘You really should get a clock in here if you want to know how long stuff takes.’

  When she stirs, she looks up from my shoulder and stares into my eyes. Eventually she whispers, “Wow!”

  “Are you glad you let me do that?”

  She nods slowly. After a minute she whispers, “You’re hard.” I nod. Another whisper, “It worked!” I nod. “My sacrifice was worth it,” she snickers.

  I chuckle, “apparently.”

  She raises her clear, warm voice, “Mister, get your cock in my pussy!”

  “As you wish, my Princess,” I smirk. A shadow crosses her eyes, and then she laughs.

  I roll her completely over me onto my other side, crawl between her legs, and without preamble press into her.

  “Yes!” she gasps.

  “Wrap your legs around me again, darling.” She does as I wrap my left arm completely behind her to grab her left side. Then I post on my right arm and left foot to sit up on the edge of the bed with my feet planted firmly on the floor.

  Her eyes pop open as we settle into place.

  “Hold onto my neck, Sweetheart.” She does. Then I weave my arms inside her legs to hang her knees over my elbows while I grab two handfuls of glorious ass. The end result is that she is hanging off my elbows and hands, impaled on my cock almost as deeply as if I had entered her from behind. I raise her up to the top of my shaft, and let her drop. She immediately groans and fires another orgasm. I keep the slow steady rhythm going long enough to take her through three more orgasms before her moans are again approaching screams.

  I was suckling her right nipple at the last crescendo. As she slowed down to only slight tremors, I let go and ask her, “do you want to kick it up a notch?” Without hesitation she vigorously nods with only incoherent sounds coming out of her mouth. I look around her to check the floor, and then I lean her back and stand up, pulling her back to me as I rise - remaining hilted through the entire maneuver. I walk over until her back is pressed against the door. Her eyes reach saucer size, and then she gives me this huge grin, nodding up and down vigorously.

  I make sure I have a firm grasp of her ass as I pull back until the head is barely inside, laying a finger against her anus. I lean forward and kiss her passionately, and ram my way home.

  Fast. Brutal. No holds-barred fucking.

  I squeeze her ass cheeks hard. I slide a finger in her asshole. I hammer her pussy. The door booms with the concussions. She tries to shout encouragement, but can only grunt from the force of my assault. She drops her hands behind my shoulders and pulls me close. We can’t kiss; so, we just inhale each other’s gasps. She begins to spasm on the third stroke. I keep going for about eight more before I explode. After I start, I give her a handful more thrusts, but I am losing horsepower fast. Eventually I just lean against her to pin her to the wall as we ride out the last of our spasms and then slowly slide to the floor.

  I think we fell asleep for a while. My muscles are stiffening up when I come around. Fortunately she is mostly in a squat on top of me. I maneuver myself out, stand, and stretch. Then I kneel down, and pick her up and set her in my armchair. I strip the wet sheets off the bed, and throw some fresh ones on quickly. After that I pick her up and gently set her in the bed, get her under the covers, and brush the hair from her face. I just look at her for a while, then I lean down and kiss her temple.

  I stand up and grab the water glasses and head to the door when I hear her whisper, “What have you done to me, Jack?”

  I open the door and go to the kitchen to refill the glasses. I fill one, and immediately drain it while the second is filling. I note the smell of female sex and chamomile, but I don’t see any tea bags out. I must have forgotten to empty trash before I left. ‘No question where the smell of female sex is coming from, Home Team.’ I refill the first, resting my head against the fridge. I stay in the position for a minute after they are both full, reveling in wonder at what this day has brought me. Finally, I stand and head back to the bedroom. I use my foot to gently close the door with only the quietest of clicks.

  Chapter 8 - Tea and Water

  Trina tries to fall asleep after Myra left, but she could just not manage it before the noises began.

  ‘What the fuck?’ she thinks. ‘Myra’s always so quiet.’

  She ponders this for a moment and eventually comes to the conclusion that maybe it’s because here there is no one to hear her, no one to notice who she really cares for, and she is obviously enjoying herself more than she has with her walking toys. She suspects more than any of her suitors as well.

  Then a primal scream pierces the night! She sits up and reaches for her bag as she recognizes the voice, ‘That’s Myra!’ Then a series of choked screams follow, building to a rhythm she recognizes.

  Trina releases her gun, and sits stunned back down
on the bed. She rests her elbows on her knees and her head droops as she shakes it from side to side. At that point she notices her hair seems to be all around. ‘Shit! I didn’t prep it for bed.’ She sighs, knowing that it will be completely knotted in the morning if she doesn't fix it now. She reaches in her bag for her brush and a couple of scrunchies.

  Sitting on the bed, she starts brushing the knots out of her hair. About a minute into the chore she hears a litany of “Yes, Jack” crescendo to a forte and then slowly transform into grunts that continue up to fortissimo.

  Trina rolls her eyes and tears the brush through her hair. Fortunately, she isn’t too tangled, and finishes after a good five minutes of vigorous attention. She pulls all her hair into a loose tail in front of her right shoulder and rolls a blue scrunchie just below her ear. Then she adds the second one just below her collarbone and gives the whole construct a couple of gentle tugs to hopefully ensure it won’t pull enough to wake her up.

  She looks at the end of the tail and frowns. She turns on the bedside lamp to inspect her tresses. She lifts the end of the tail in front of her face and considers it like it was a mortal enemy. ‘Damn! It’s only been two weeks. I’ll have to catch up with one of the brownies when I get into an office. It would be nice to get back to Missouri and have Peg do it.’ She turns the lamp off.

  Her reverie is interrupted by a litany of short screeches rapidly getting louder.

  “Fuck!” she whispers. She grabs her gun holster and her elven blade on her way to the door. As she reaches for the doorknob, her gaze falls on Jack’s shirt. She sets her weapons on the desk, pulls the shirt on, and closes the third and fourth buttons. She lifts the lapel to sniff the fabric. ‘I can’t smell him on it, but it does smell of this wash soap.’

  A long, piercing scream comes from the next room. Trina rolls her eyes again, grabs her weapons and walks out the door. She listens outside Jack’s door for a moment, hearing rhythmic whimpers. ‘Just more sex.’ She hesitates and raises her hand towards the doorknob, leaving it hang for an instant. ‘Don’t you dare, Trina!’ She pulls her hand back like it had been burned, shrugs, and pads into the kitchen.

  She sees the kettle has a little more than the minimum amount of water to run; so, she turns it on and quietly starts rummaging for a cup and some tea. ‘Aw. Chamomile. That works.’ She puts the bag into the cup and assesses the room.

  There is an easy chair in the corner between the TV stand and the window on the outside wall. It’s tucked in shadows, which makes it perfect for her needs.

  The kettle starts to boil She grabs the towel and drops it over the kettle as she lifts it off the base. No bell rings. Great. ‘I hate those damned bells,’ she thinks to herself. She pours the water over the bag, ensures the switch is off, and sets it back on its base.

  Then she crawls into the chair. She finds it firm, yet with considerable padding. She snorts as she thinks ‘Kinda like its owner.’ She sets her weapons on the floor next to her chair and confirms they are in easy reach, and she knows where each is sitting. Then she curls her feet to her left, leans against the wing of the chair, and slowly dunks her tea bag as her thoughts wonder. She takes a sip, deciding that it’s still too hot to drink, but she holds it under her nose to savor the aroma.

  As the tea mists her face, she hears a quiet groan from Jack’s room. ‘Again? Really you two need some sleep for tomorrow.’ Trying to ignore Myra’s quiet groans, she thinks ‘So do you, dummy.’ She sips her tea and tries to ignore the noises of her lover. After a short time, they thankfully cease, but about a minute later she hears a gentle thud against the door of Jack’s room.

  She thinks, ‘Oh no. Not the door. Please not the door…’ she closes her eyes and hopes. Her hopes are dashed with resounding boom and a groan from Myra. And then another. And then another.

  Without conscious thought, Trina sets her cup on the floor next to her weapons, and then shifts to put her heels on the seat of the chair as far apart as they will fit. She closes her eyes and slides her hand down the soft flannel until it parts to allow her access to her inflamed pussy. She wets her right-hand fingers with her own juices as she pinches her clitoris hood back with her left. Then she assaults herself vigorously as she squeezes her eyes shut imagining her Master holding her hands above her head as he brutally fucks her against the door in time with Myra’s groans and the booms thundering from Jack’s room. She slides the fingers of her right hand inside her channel to pick up the pounding rhythm, and picks up the clit rub with her thumb. As she hears Jack release a final long groan, she whines through her sinus cavity rather than her mouth as she finds her own release, riding it out as the booms slow and quiet.

  She doesn’t move as it occurs to her that it’s always been Myra dominating her and fucking her like a man, even in her fantasies - her Mistress. This time it was a man in her fantasy just now. She shakes with an aftershock as she realizes it was Jack. She whimpers “No!” into the darkness.

  She caresses herself from her opening to her clit, drenching all her fingers in the process. She checks with her left hand to feel the shirt under her bum is pretty moist, too. ‘Hope I didn’t leave any visible evidence.’ She shrugs and pops her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking her hands clean.

  Eventually, she settles herself back into her seat and retrieves her tea. “Aw...it’s still warm,” she whispers to herself.

  She sits quietly in the easy chair, enjoying the tea and pondering her recent fantasy’s implications.

  About fifteen minutes later she is approaching the bottom of her teacup and considering another when Jack’s door rattles. She extends her will to pull the shadows around her.

  The door opens, and out trots Jack holding two tumblers without a stitch of clothing on. He drinks one glassful and then fills them both while looking around the kitchen. She assesses him while he’s not looking. Trina’s inner dialog catalogs Jack’s attributes ‘Leaner than I thought. His height does not all come from his boots - 6’2” to 6’4”? Hard to say at this distance. Full head of thick dark hair. I can see some frosting at his temples from here, but I recall random white ones in the midst of all the thick, brown hair. Hair everywhere, really. Across his lean chest and down his stomach. OK, that is not a happy trail...more like a “happy superhighway.” Looks like he grooms the bush, but there is hair everywhere. Hmm...I thought he’d be bigger down there. Especially after the way Myra was wailing. Strong ass and legs, lean strong arms and shoulders that look like they come from real work, all covered with that hair. I wonder what Myra likes about that. I barely like the little bit she has, I can’t imagine loving a rug like that. Moving on...slightly rounded abdomen, but closer to six-pack than beer-barrel. Scars from a couple of gunshots, and DAMN! That’s a wicked knife scar. I’ll have to ask him about that if I ever openly catch him without a shirt.’ He leans against the icebox for a moment, shakes his head and then hurries back to the bedroom. ‘He’s too tired to walk to the bedroom? Way to go Myra! Bring him to heel!’ She grins at the thought.

  After the door clicks, Trina barely whispers, “But it sounded like he brought her to heel.”

  Trina drains her tea and allows the shadows to recede. She whispers, “You are interesting, Jack.” She leans back in her chair, and drifts off to sleep.

  Later, she wakes as the light from outside begins to light the window. She retrieves her cup and weapons and walks to the sink. Teabag in the trash, cup in the sink, and then pads back to her room for an hour more of sleep.

  Chapter 9 - Change of Plans

  I awake to the sound of my phone ringing from the living room. I carefully unwrap myself from the goddess in my bed, and launch out of the bedroom to grab it. It is my mechanic. I manage to answer before it goes to voicemail.

  “Hello. This is Jack.”

  “Hello Jack. This is Greg from Honda.”

  “Hey, Greg. I should be there in about...what time is it?

  “I’m sorry, did I get you out of bed? It’s about five after eight.”<
br />
  “Yeah. I had an eventful day yesterday. Can you have the shuttle pick me up in a little over an hour?”

  “Uh, that’s why I’m calling. We had to order a part. It was supposed to get in about 2:30 yesterday, but the airline had an issue. They think we’ll have the part this morning; so, we should have it ready by closing time if all goes well. If not, it’ll be done by the time they close the shop tomorrow.”

  “Great. Thanks for letting me know, Greg. I’m leaving town again today. As I had planned to drive, I need to get busy making other arrangements. If all goes according to plan I should be there Monday to pick it up.”

  “OK, Jack. That sounds great. I’ll talk to you Monday. Bye.”

  “Bye, Greg.”

  I let out a sigh and scratch my scalp with my phone. “Well that’s just fucking great.”

  “What is the matter, Jack?”

  Expecting to see Myra, I’m rather surprised to see Trina standing there freshly showered wearing black stretch pants with a couple of cargo pockets on them, tactical boots, and a knit cowl neck sweater. She has an interesting shoulder holster rig peeking out under her left arm as her nimble fingers fly through the exercise of braiding her hair.

  And there I am dressed in my phone with my dick hanging out in a full frontal view. ‘Way to make an impression Home Team.’ She looks at Little Jack, and then back to my eyes and gives me a smirk.

  “Excuse me,” I mumble as I march with as much dignity as possible into the bedroom. I put my phone on the dresser and head to drain Little Jack and grab a quick shower. As I step out of the shower, I see the lovely vision of Myra bent over the sink brushing her teeth. Whooda thunk tooth brushing could be so sexy?

  I walk up behind her, drop my towel, and cuddle up behind her as she swishes and spits a final time. She stands up and wraps her arms back around my neck. I drop my chin onto her shoulder as I wrap her up in my arms. I meet her warm smile in the mirror. Her left breast might have found its way into my hand as I say, “You’re looking mighty fine this morning, Ms. Nessus.”