A Tale of Two Paramours

After we had warmed up by the fire following our sexual escapade in the snow, Jessi put on her jeans and the pink turtleneck sweater. She then took the hardback copy of Maia that I had purchased at the used book store and settled onto the couch to read it while I made dinner. With her legs tucked underneath her and her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she looked both studious and alluring as she read. At one point, I took out my phone and took a surreptitious picture of her so I could capture the moment.

Nearly an hour after I had started dinner, I called Jessi into to the kitchen. The young blonde walked over and sat at the table, putting the book beside the plate of mashed potatoes that I had ready for her. As I sat across from her, a steak and mashed potatoes on my plate, I saw that she had an expression on her small, elfin face that I could not quite read.

"Thank you for dinner," she said, then she started eating her mashed potatoes.

"Do you want some steak?" I asked, thinking her expression might have been because I had not put any meat on her plate."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Let me try the potatoes and see how it goes."

After A few bites, I saw that Jessi was swallowing the potatoes without visible discomfort even though she had not used any throat spray. This, combined with the fact that her speech had returned to normal, at least most of the time, encouraged me that the injury to her throat had not been as bad as it seemed at first, or as bad as it still looked on the outside. Relaxing, I took a few bites of my steak. I did not realize Jessi had stopped eating until she spoke.

"It's about a slave girl."

"What?" I asked after swallowing the bite of steak I had in my mouth.

"The book you bought today," she said, the odd expression back on her face. "The one you suggested I read."

"It is about a young woman who is a slave for a time, but she is also more than that," I replied, choosing my words with care. "It is also about the culture in which she lives and the social issues in that society."

"I see," Jessi said, then she took a few more bites of her potatoes. But just when I had taken another bite, this time of my potatoes, she spoke again.

"And it's by the same guy who wrote Watership Down?" she asked.

"Yes, it is. He wrote a few other books, including Shardik, which is one of my favorite books. That one is about a bear who may or may not have been a divine bear and may or may not have fulfilled a prophecy. It is set in the same world as Maia, but it happens years later."

The blonde nodded, then started eating again. After several seconds, I did so as well. We ate in silence for a few minutes, although I kept a close watch on her in case she was going to say anything else. So, I was not surprised when she paused to speak again, although I was surprised by what she asked.

"Can I have a small piece of steak, Mark?"

"Um, sure," I agreed. "Let me get it for you. May I have your plate?"

Jessi smiled and handed me her plate, and I went to the cast iron grill on the stove. I cut the other steak that I had cooked into thirds and put one piece on her plate. As I did so, Jessi asked another question.

"When did you first read this book, Mark?"

"Um, high school. I read it after I first read Shardik. I had read Watership Down in middle school, which is why I picked up Shardik in the first place."

"So, in high school you read a book about a blonde slave girl?"

I sat Jessi's plate back in front of her and saw that the odd expression I had noted twice earlier was back.

"What is it you really want to ask me, Jessi?" I responded, hoping to get to the root of her line of questioning.

"Nothing particular," she said, cutting up her steak into small pieces. "Just trying to figure some things out."

"Such as?" I pushed.

"Such as why you're letting your steak get cold," she replied, clearly savoring the small bite she was chewing. "It's delicious."

With a deep sigh, I went back to eating. I did still keep an eye on Jessi, but other than wince once when the piece of steak she swallowed must have been too big, the only expression on her face was a slight smile.

When we were both finished (Jessi had eaten all the steak I gave her and most of the mashed potatoes), I cleared the table, washed the plates and utensils, then cleaned up the kitchen and put away the leftover steak and potatoes. Jessi moved back to the couch and resumed reading Maia, which I was now regretting suggesting to her, although I was not exactly sure what thoughts it was prompting in her.

When I was done in the kitchen, I went to the bedroom, retrieved my e-reader from my bag, and walked back out into the front room. Jessi was reclining against one arm of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her again, as she read. When I sat down, she looked up at me, smiled, and then returned to the book. I started reading as well, and soon I was immersed in my book.

After about forty minutes or so, I looked up when a movement caught my eye. I saw that Jessi had put Maia on the coffee table and was staring at me. I lowered my e-reader, not sure what to expect.

"I'm taking a rest," she informed me. "There's a lot of politics and government and stuff in there, for a book about a slave girl, anyway."

"Yes," I nodded. "But it is about more..."

"It's about more than a slave girl, and she's more than a slave girl anyway," Jessi interrupted, loosely paraphrasing what I had told her earlier.

"Right," I said, somewhat concerned that the expression I was not sure how to read was back on the young woman's face.

After several seconds of silence, Jessi asked, "Is this why it weirds you out?"

"Is it why what 'weirds me out'?" I asked.

"That I want to be your slave."

"No," I told her, shaking my head. "How far you seem to want it to go concerns me, especially given that I do not seem to be able to maintain my own boundaries during those activities."

"So, in abstract, you're not opposed to having your own blonde slave girl serving you?"

"I am not opposed to it as an activity," I clarified. "It is not something I would want to live."

"Which means that you're not rejecting me. You're rejecting the idea that it's more than a game, and that I would give up who I am to be who a Master would make me be, right?"

"Yes," I agreed. "That is what I have been trying to tell you, although I am afraid I have not explained it as well as you just said it."

"And if we set boundaries and we both stayed within those, you'd be okay with it?"

"If it is roleplaying, and we stay within the boundaries, or at least close to within the boundaries, then I am very willing to explore that with you."

"Does it excite you?" the blonde asked, and the look on her face at that point was one that I did recognize-lust.

"Yes," I admitted, my mouth suddenly dry.

Jessi smiled at me, then continued, "So having me as your own little blonde slave girl turns you on? Is that why you got the book? Because I don't think you picked it up for me to read."

"It does turn me on, yes," I admitted, watching a look of triumph replace the lust in Jessi's blue eyes. "And when I was trying to decide whether to buy the book, since I already have a paperback copy, I did think of you, yes. But you are correct that it was not because I wanted you to read it, although had I thought about, I would have given you my old copy weeks ago."

The young blonde stood up, walked to my end of the couch, leaned down, put her hands on either side of my face, and kissed me. However, when I reached my hand for her waist and started to kiss her back, she pulled away.

"Wait here," she told me. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Jessi, if the idea is to go back to the Master/slave roleplay, I'm not sure..."

"Nope, not right now," my lover replied. "I've been planning something else since this afternoon, and I got sidetracked by the snow, which was intense. Then I got sidetracked by the book. But right now, after what you just told me, I'm not letting anything else get in the way."

"Okay," I said, and as was common with Jessi, I was left not being sure what else to say. But in this instance, it did not matter because she had already turned and was walking toward the bedroom.

I tried to read more from my book, but I could not really focus. I had no idea what my twenty-year-old lover was up to, and that did concern me somewhat. However, since I suspected that it had something to do with whatever she had bought at the clothing store where I had purchased her sweater, and as I was quite sure that store did not carry anything very extreme based on what I had seen, I was hoping that that my concern was misplaced.

That did not help me with the Master/slave issue, though. I was glad that Jessi seemed to better understand what my concerns were, but I was afraid that my admission that I found the roleplay exciting, and that I was turned on by the idea of it, and specifically by Jessi playing out the role of slave, would embolden the young woman to push harder. On the other hand, I was somewhat hopeful that I was wrong and that she might be more willing to accept that we could explore the dynamic without it being real, or more importantly, defining her.

"Mark," Jessi said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I stood up and turned around to see the pretty blonde standing just outside the door to the bedroom wearing the pink sweater I had bought her and not anything else that I could see, although the sweater did come low enough to cover her groin. But it was not the sweater that drew my eye most. It was her hair and makeup.

Jessi's blonde hair was teased out in a way I had never seen before, and it was highlighted with bright pink streaks. The pink motif continued into her makeup. Her lipstick and her eyeshadow were both a shiny pink, and even her cheeks were tinged in pink. The effect was a startling juxtaposition of the innocent, namely her sweater and the color, with the not-so-innocent makeup, hair, and lack of other clothing. The effect was enchanting and erotic all at once.

"You look gorgeous," I told her as I drew closer.

Jessi smiled, then lifted her sweater up so that I could see she was wearing red panties, although only the red elastic at the top and around the leg openings and a red heart that covered her vulva were opaque-the rest seemed to be made of a transparent red mesh. I stopped and stared, and before I could start forward again, Jessi dropped her sweater back down, then turned her back to me and lifted the back of the sweater up above her bottom. A large red heart covered most of her derriere, which she wiggled at me while looking back over her shoulder with a big smile on her face.

"You like what you see?" she asked as she was turning back to face me, but she did not wait for me to answer. "It occurred to me this afternoon that this is what you should've gotten for Valentine's Day, a loving girl to fuck, not a slave or a petulant brat. Well, something like this, anyway. I kind of just cobbled this together from what they had at the store. I really was hoping for pink panties, although these are kinda sexy, in a cheesy way. I hope."

"They are very sexy," I assured her. "It is all very sexy, yet somehow a little innocent, sort of."

"Sort of innocent but trashy sexy was pretty much what I was going for," Jessi laughed. "I would've tried for more sophisticated sexy mixed with innocent, say pink garters and stockings with the sweater, but I did what I could with what they had. And this is probably more me anyway."

I imagined what she might have looked like wearing just the sweater with pink garters and stockings, and the vision was certainly enticing, but I am not sure it would have been any sexier than what she looked like in that moment. Further, I had to agree with her that this combination was probably more her, but I would not have called it 'trashy sexy', and I wanted to make sure Jessi knew that.

"How about 'adventurously sexy' instead of 'trashy sexy'," I suggested, reaching out to take the young blonde's hands.

"A little innocent and a lot 'adventurous sexy', huh?" Jessi laughed. "Oh, I like that Mark. So, you ready to fuck your innocent but adventurously sexy slut?"

"Yes," I replied, pulling her close to me and making sure my erection pushed against her loins. "I'm ready to fuck you, my adventurously sexy lover. Can you tell I am ready?"

"Why yes I can, Mr. Warner," Jessi said, feigning shock like she had done earlier. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"You do not have to do anything," I told her, leaning in for a kiss. "You just have to strip, lie back, and spread your legs."

I pushed my lips against hers, and Jessi pushed her tongue into my mouth. As we kissed, I raised my hands to her breasts and fondled them through her soft sweater, although I was careful not to use too much force on the left one.

"Can I keep the sweater on, Mark?" Jessi asked after we separated. "I like the way it feels when you play with my tits through it."

"Yes, honey," I agreed, kissing her neck. "You just need to lose the panties."

"Actually, I was kinda thinking you could just push them to the side and fuck me with them still on," Jessi said. "That was my plan, to have you fuck me with just my panties on, but now I want the sweater on too. That's okay, right?"

"It's fine. However you want to do it, Jessi."

The blonde beamed at me, then took my hand and led me into the bedroom. For some time, we stood at the foot of the bed and kissed, and while we did so, I alternated between squeezing her butt and running my hands up over her sweater and massaging her breasts.

"You can be a lot rougher with my tits, Mark," Jessi told me at one point after I had been massaging them relatively lightly. "Especially the right one. You could always make it look like the other one."

"That's not funny, Jessi," I told her in between kisses.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," she breathed, moving her head back from mine a little. "I was looking at them in the mirror before I came out, and I got wet-well, wetter-just looking at the bruises on my left boob and on my neck. They're reminders of how hard and rough you fucked me. I would not mind at all if the right matched it."

"I do not want to hurt you," I explained, trying to kiss her again, but she turned her face to the side so that my lips hit her cheek.

"I know," she sighed, then she faced me again and kissed me.

"But sometimes the hurt feels so good," she whispered when our lips parted again. "But you don't have to go that far. Just remember I'm not going to break if you're a little rougher with me. I'm afraid that seeing the bruises have made you think I'm delicate, and you should know a lot better than that by now, Mark Warner."

She was right, of course. We were no strangers to being rough, although that rough had never resulted in bruises before, at least not that I had seen. Still, I knew there was room for being rougher than I was being at that point without it involving hurting her the way I had the night before. To show her I understood, I reached down and gave her bottom a firm smack, although it was somewhat lessened by the intervening fluffy pink sweater. Still, the young blonde gasped, grinned, and kissed me hard. And as we kissed, I again moved my hands to her breasts, and this time I squeezed them first, then twisted a little, although I was still more careful with her left.

While I was mauling her breasts, Jessi moaned into my mouth and moved her hand down to rub my rock hard penis through my sweats. Then, without warning, my young lover pulled away, lay back on the bed, and scooted up it so that her head was on the pillow. She then spread her legs wide, again revealing the red heart that covered her pussy. I reached down and traced the outline of the heart, then rubbed her through it. I was not at all surprised to find the fabric of the heart sodden with moisture.

"My, that is a wet pussy," I teased her before I pulled her panties to one side and easily slid two fingers inside of her.

"I told you," she moaned, her hands on her breasts as she stared at me. "Are you going to fuck it?"

"I'm going to lick it first," I told her before stripping off my clothes, getting on the bed, and moving up to her so that my lips were inches away from her moist heat.

"You don't have to do that, Mark," she said, although she was pushing on my head as she said it, which made me quite sure she wanted me to lick her.

"I want to, sweetie," I told her before I licked between her swollen and moist labia.

"Oh fuck, I want you to too," she whimpered. "Please lick my little clit, baby,"

I did as she asked, although I was thinking about what she had just called me. I could not recall her every calling me anything but Mark, Mr. Warner, and Master (and once 'Daddy', but I had put a stop to that). I suspected that she must have done so, but I had no memory of it. Regardless, I liked hearing the term of endearment from her lips.

Jessi clearly liked what I was doing with my tongue as much as I liked hearing her call me 'baby'. She was pushing her groin up against my mouth as her fingers alternately grasped and released my hair, all while she was moaning nearly continuously.

"God, you do that so well," she gasped following one particularly loud moan.

I did not say anything in response, although I did reach up with the hand that was not holding her panties aside to start squeezing her breasts.

"Fuck yes," Jessi yelled, tightening her grip in my hair. "Be rougher, Mark. Abuse my tits. I want to feel the pain when I come."

I hesitated a heartbeat or two, then I did as she asked, again using less force on her already bruised left breast than I was using on her right. Jessi let loose a little scream, then she thrust her pelvis up against my mouth and held it there while her body shook for a few seconds then tensed.

"FFFFUUUUCCCCKKKK," my blonde lover shrieked before her body relaxed and her breathing, which had become ragged, began to even out.

"You can keep playing with my titties," she said when I moved my hand away. "I love the feel of the sweater against them when you squeeze them."

I did what she asked, again without answering because at that point I had curled up my tongue and shoved it into her vagina.

"Oh fuck yes," she sighed, her hands tightening their hold one my hair once again. "Make me come again, Mark."

"Call me 'baby' again, I told her, momentarily taking my tongue from inside of her pussy.

Jessi looked at me while chewing on her bottom lip, then she grinned and said, "Make me come again, baby."

I swept my tongue from her pussy up to her small clit, licked it, then sucked it between my lips. As I lightly nibbled on it, Jessi began to breathe faster and faster. When I slipped my fingers that had been holding her panties aside into her wet warmth and probed for that angle that I knew sent her over the edge, she let out a long, gasping breath and started to shudder.

"I love your fingers in my cunt while you suck on my clit, baby," she gasped in between sharp breaths. "And your hands abusing my little tits."

I twisted the breast I was holding, realizing too late that it was her left. Jessi yelped, then her body shuddered even more violently than it had been. I tried to move my hand away from her injured breast, but she covered it with her hand and pushed it back down.

"Do it again," she panted.

I did as she asked, and this time she shrieked even louder as her muscles went rigid. Yet to my surprise, she croaked, "Do it again."

Instead, I pulled my hand from under hers and away from her left breast, before grabbing her right tightly and squeezing it until she screamed again, her body shaking before tensing yet again. Jessi made some sound that was likely her attempt to ask me to do it again and clamped her hand back on top of mine, so I twisted her breast while squeezing it and nibbled harder on her clit just as my fingers found that perfect angle inside her pussy.