Mister Jac Miller

By way of introduction, let me say that if you haven't read the first chapters of this story, then much of the next few pages will mean very little to you. So I suggest you go back and read "Mister Jack Miller: Chapters 1 thru 9" to get the background on this tale. That having been said, please...read on...

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When I finally made it home, I looked at the clock. It was about four fifteen. I made a quick call to my lawyer and asked him if there was any new news, but he said it had been quiet for the last few days. I called work and checked in there. There would be a helluva lot of work piled up on my desk when I got in on Monday, so I resolved to make the most of my weekend, including pondering whether, with my new-found fortune, whether I even wanted to return to work on Monday AT ALL. Finally, I called Donna and told her that I made it home safely, and she told me again how much she was looking forward to seeing me again. There was a sexy lilt in her voice, and I decided then and there that I was not only going to have another shower, but that I would probably need to take another nap until she got here if I was to have any strength whatsoever for what I was hoping would be a nice night with her.

After the shower, but still wrapped only in a towel, I took a tour of the apartment, bringing into reality all the gifts that Donna had shown me via video earlier in the week. I put a couple of bottles of white wine into the fridge. then I walked into the bedroom. Donna had left a peach-colored teddy on the bed, perhaps something she had worn the previous night (though perhaps something she was intending to wear tonight?). I picked them up and smelled that rosewater scent. I dressed in black cotton/spandex boxer-briefs, loose-fitting white cotton pants, and a black silk shirt. Leaving a pair of slippers by the bed, I lay down on top of the comforter, rested my head on a pillow, and drifted off to sleep...

I had forgotten that Donna had a key. But when I felt her hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake, I was quickly reminded of the fact.

"Jack, sweetie. Wake Up. I brought us some dinner."

I looked up to see a vision. She had gotten her hair done. It was much shorter than I had seen it on the video the other night, but the cut was still very feminine. She was wearing a knee-length short-sleeved white dress which, had it been a little more sheer, might have passed for a nightie. But the thing that really got me noticing her was the fact that I could see her underwear through her dress. It had to have been the loudest color I had ever seen. It was a matching bra-and-thong set, in a day-glo orange, not unlike those glow-in-the-dark road construction signs you see on the roads. Even with the color muted somewhat by the dress, it was pretty intense.

"Damn, girl, you tryin' to blind me with that underwear?"

She giggled and said, "No, sir, I've got other things that'll probably make you go blind, but this was designed to keep your eyes opened. I knew you'd be tired tonight..."

She was sure right about that. Although if she knew that the plane flight was not the most prominent reason for my fatigue, she might have raised an eyebrow. Nevertheless, I latched on to an important fact she had mentioned. "Dinner...sounds good."

She rolled her eyes, perhaps having hoped that I was a little more interested in her than in the meal at the moment, which I was, but I still needed to replenish my strength somewhat if I was going to make it worth her while. She stood up and took my hand, helping me to get up off the comfy bed, and led me into the other room.

She had taken the dinner, which she had brought in styrofoam and cardboard containers, and transferred it rather prettily to some really good china. There were a couple of taper candles burning in nice antique candleholders, and a bottle of white wine sitting in a beautiful silver ice-bucket.

"Wow, Donna, that's beautiful. Almost a shame to eat it. Did you haul all these dishes over from your apartment?"

"No, silly," she said as I pulled her chair out for her before sitting down myself. "It's all yours. I had this place fully stocked, Jack."

"Which reminds me," I said as I stood up again to kneel by your chair, "I never properly thanked you for helping me out. Not just for the apartment, but for everything. I owe you a lot, Donna, and I hope I get a chance to make it clear how much I appreciate it all." With that, I turned her to face me in her chair, and took her face into my hands and leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the lips. It wasn't a probing kiss, but one that I had truly intended to be a heartfelt 'Thank You' for everything. She shivered slightly when I pulled back away from her face. "Oh, my...are you warm enough?"

She looked back at me, in a look that indicated she was trying to properly register that I was back in town again. "Oh, trust me, Jacob, I am so warm right now, it's not even funny...But..." and here she said this with a sternness that indicated that she understood how truly tired I was at the moment, "If we don't eat this food soon, IT's not going to be very warm, and YOU're going to end up passing out on me before nine....and we wouldn't want THAT to happen, would we?"

I couldn't imagine how she had remembered that the "Dragon of Fire" was my favorite dish from this restaurant, or that I always ordered a double helping of Pad Thai from THIS restaurant but not from any other Thai place I ate at, but she did. It was like she was my wife or something. I caught myself in that thought and had a bittersweet moment where I wondered how the cards had turned up that I had ended up with Wendy, and not her or Shari or someone like them. In short, it was a beautiful meal. The Zinfandel went perfect with the hot chicken dish, and even the tapioca dessert tasted about as fresh as I ever remember coming from that restaurant. I was full, and Donna seemed really happy, and really beautiful.

We sipped cappuccino out on the balcony (yes, the decorator had put an espresso machine into the apartment), then when a slight chill came into the air, went back inside and danced some slow dances to my Michael Buble CD. At one point during our dance, I had kissed her, this time not like the one before dinner, but a slow, sensual kiss, designed more to see where she was at, romatically speaking, whether she was ready to take this evening to another level. After receiving a "yes" from the kiss, I whispered into her ear, "I have to visit the little boy's room, but I'll meet you on the bed."

Of course, when I emerged from the bathroom, I saw her laying on her side on the bed, the last two glasses of wine from the bottle in her hand, looking toward me with an 'I've been waiting for this moment for longer than you can imagine' look on her face. I would later learn that she had had a crush on me since the first day she met me at my wedding, when she had appeared as one of Wendy's bridesmaids.

One of the things that I noticed almost immediately when I approached the bed was that while I was in the bathroom, Donna must have removed her underwear, because all I could see was white. There was no trace left of the loud orange screaming behind the sheer fabric. When I finally lay next to her on the bed, taking the wine glass from her hand and drinking a toast to 'Coming Home,' I noticed the shape of her body behind the dress, and the subtle colorings of her feminine charms peeking through in the dim light from the only lamp in the room, a single bed-lamp that shone from behind her on the opposite nightstand.

After the toast, I took the glass from her and set it on my nightstand, and lay facing her on the bed. We were both laying there, our heads propped up by our elbows, very quiet, with my Luther Vandross CD playing softly on the stereo in the other room. I don't remember--not even that night when we had almost kissed when we were setting up the surveillance equipment--ever seeing her look as delicious and inviting as she did right then. I inched my body closer, and leaned my head toward hers. The kiss picked right up where the one in the other room had left off, and I soon rolled her over onto her back, where she invited me on top of her to kiss her some more, and to run my hand over her body, caressing her all over through the light cotton fabric.

The thing I first noticed about her breasts were their unusual shape. I thought back to times when I had seen her or been with her when I was still married to Wendy, but I couldn't remember a single instance when I ever saw her without either a bra, a bikini top, or several layers of clothing in between my eyes and her breasts. But as I felt them now, I discovered the first indications that her breasts were very unique. First of all, their size was nothing spectacular, certainly nothing that would compete with the breasts of any of the girls back at the reunion. they couldn't have been more than a A cup. But it wasn't the cup size that really made my eyebrows raise and my dick twitch. It was her nipples.

I can't remember ever seeing nipples as thick and as large as hers. If you want a visual image to compare the shape, imagine for a moment a small orange, cut in half, with a large marshmallow sitting on top of it--her nipples were HUGE. I have since heard them described as "puffies", but I looked once on the internet for pictures of girls with puffy nipples, and they were pretty similar, but Donna's were, by far, the biggest I had ever seen. And the last thing that made them, in my book, so unique, was that her the color of her nipples wasn't really all that much darker or pinker than the surrounding skin, so if you were looking at her from a distance, you might have thought that she didn't HAVE any nipples at all...

When I first ran my hands over her breasts, I was so curious, I leaned down and took one of her enormous nipples in my mouth and began feeling its shape with my lips, then began to suck on them through the fabric of her dress. It was clear that she was turned on, because they were hard, but the hardness, too, was different than any other nipples I'd ever experienced. On a typical pair of "pencil-eraser" nipples, you can feel the tightness of the skin and the hardness throughout, but Donna's nipples felt different. I began to slide her dress up off her body so that I could experience these curiosities first-hand, As I got her dress up over her head, tossing it off the bed, I returned my attention to her nipples, placing my mouth for the first time on her naked nipple. It was as if there was a hard core deep inside the nipple that continued go harden as I licked and sucked all over her nipple, but the outside remained soft, and, if this makes any sense, actually got softer as I continued to play with them.

Of course, I couldn't spend all my time on one breast, so I moved my hand up and began to twist and pinch at her other nipple as I continued to minister to the first one with my tongue. "So, Jack," Donna heaved as she reveled in my oral attentions, then her voice took a serious, kind of sad tone when she said, "You're not horrified by my mutant nipples?"

I lifted my head and there was a wetness in her eyes as she looked down at me. "What do you mean "mutant?," I said, "These are the most incredible tits I have ever seen. The way I see it, you've been given a great gift..."

She laid her head back and looked at the ceiling with an anguished look on her face. I stopped playing with her tits and just lay there on top of her, my head propped up on my elbows and looking down at her face, I whispered, "What's wrong, baby? Talk to me..."

She told me about how her breasts had always caused her one kind of grief or another. When all the other girls in gym class were getting big boobs, she said, hers stayed small. "That was bad enough," she said, "but when I was about sixteen, something started happening to my nipples. Over about the next year and a half, they just started growing. Like my DNA had somehow been programmed wrong to make my nipples get big and my tits stay the same size.

"And it wouldn't have been so bad, I think, if it wasn't for two things. One was my mom, who, once she realized that my breasts were 'unusual,' basically told me to do everything I could to hide them from the boys' eyes, lest they get weirded out when they see them. So I did, and since then I've pretty much worn heavily padded bras and swimsuits, to kind of draw attention away from my tits. I got joked about in school too. I got a nickname in the girl's locker room. I was "The Mutant," hence my question a minute ago. the nickname spread across campus and I was marked for the rest of high school. And, you know, as much as I hated Mom for making me hide them, she WAS sort of right, because more than half the guys I've ever gone out with, once they see my tits, they never call me again. And I've experimented, too. I've let them fuck me on the first date, but if they see my tits, they start making excuses why there's no second date. Or I hold off as long as I can, only giving it up when I think there's a real chance of a lasting relationship, and somehow, once they see them, the relationship starts to slowly fall apart. With one guy I even tried making love to him seven or eight times before I let him take my bra off. But you should have seen the look on his face when he first laid eyes on them. I knew at that exact moment that he was gonna drift away. And he did. And I KNOW it's all because of this curse on my chest."

"Oh, Donna, sweetheart, come here," I said as I sat up and pulled her up to a sitting position, and brought her up onto my lap, facing me. "Now you listen to me and listen well. I really don't know how you went this long feeling this way, but I'm telling you right now, it ends today. When I first saw these babies," I said as I reached up between us and kneaded one breast while squeezing the other nipple between my fingertips, "I thought I was the luckiest man in the world. they're beautiful," and I leaned her back long enough to kiss her left nipple-tip, "And unless I miss my guess," kissing the other one and licking it for a moment, "I think you like it when I do this," taking her whole right breast into my mouth and sucking as hard as I can, while swirling my tongue around the great marshmallow, and biting it gently at the base.

"Oh, Jack, oh baby...," she started to cry, "That feels so beautiful...nobody ever..."

"Hush now, just let me take care of you, darling," I said as I slipped her off of my lap, and stood up long enough to strip my clothes off. Then I remembered. This whole time we had been on top of the comforter.

"So what's this about these great bed sheets?" This served to dry her tears and focus her attention on something else for a moment. "You mean you haven't felt them yet? Oh, I guess not since I DID find you laying here on top of everything when i came in. Come on, check this out."

She pulled the comforter back and there they were, black as night and shiny as patent leather. First, she took my hand and brought it down on the sheet and just ran my hand over it. I looked her in the eyes and said, "Wow...this is cool."

"Just wait till you feel this!," she said as she pulled it way back and lay down on the bed with her head on one of the shiny pillows. Then, she brought the shiny black top-sheet over her naked body, and, reaching toward me, she said, "Come here."

So I lay down on top of her, the only thing between us being this awesome sheet. And it was amazing. I know that if my cock was not already at full-mast from the incredible sensations I had already been feeling as a result of experiencing Donna's nipples, It would have quickly gotten there from this feeling. Not only were the sheets about the sexiest, slipperiest, softest and lightest non-human things that have ever come in contact with my skin, but the fact that Donna was underneath the sheet, humping up against me and wriggling around was bringing me dangerously close to the edge. It REALLY felt great. The next morning I resolved to buy every woman I'd been with this week a set of these sheets for their own beds. But in the present moment, I could tell that Donna was looking into my face to see if I felt the same thing that she had been feeling all this week that she'd been sleeping in my bed. I think it's pretty safe to say that I was. I smiled down into her eyes as she kicked the sheets untucked with her feet and wrapped her legs and the sheet around me, using her ankles and calves to slide the sheets against my ass and thighs. "Isn't this great, Jack? I knew you would love this..."

But I just had to try one more thing. I sat up a little bit, and took an edge of the sheet in my hand, then I started to drag the sheet over Donna's incredible nipples. "Ooommmhhh, Jack, that's so....mmmmhhhh, nice...," and she continued moaning and cooing and humping up against me as I let the fabric play over her nipples. I know it was really affecting her, because the more I did it, the louder she got, the more she laughed, the harder she humped me. I started to slide my cock against the quickly moistening, but still quite slippery, portion of the sheet that covered her pussy, and I knew that if I were to keep it up for much longer, I was gonna blow all over my cool new sheets. But I had a much better idea.

"Donna, darling, As much as I love this, and I Doooooo....love this," I said as I broke contact with her and with the sheet, "This thing is getting in the way of something much more important to me." As I said this last I was lifting the sheet off of her and pulling it back down the bed, then repositioning myself on top of her, I slid my shaft against her warm entrance as I reached around her thighs and ran my palms ever-so-lightly over her nipples...

"And what, dear Jack, could possibly be more important than..." her voice trailed off as she concentrated on the feel of my cock and my palms.

"THIS," I said straight into her eyes as, without looking down or guiding myself, I slipped back so that the head of my cock was positioned at her entrance, and on the next forward stroke, I was in her to the hilt.

"OOOmmm, JACK, oh..." she said. panting, a look of delighted surprise in her eyes. "Well, if you feel that that's more important, then, by all means, have at it." She grabbed my arms, which were now planted at her sides, for leverage, then raised her hips up off the bed to give me a nice new angle of penetration. "Have at it, I say..."

And have at it--or, perhaps I should say, 'Have it,' I did. I was on fire. The number of incredible sensations that we had heaped on top of each other in the last few minutes were just too much, and after about seven hard, piercing thrusts deep into her pussy, during which Donna was looking up into my eyes with the most delighted encouraging shouts of "That's it Jack, give it to me, boy, just like that," I came. Sensory overload had taken its toll, and I was a bowl of jelly in a matter of seconds, collapsed on top of her with this intense, racking orgasm that was over in a matter of seconds as well.

But here's the cool thing about it. I could remember many a time when I was with Wendy, when I had come too soon for her tastes, and whenever it happened she would whine or berate me for not being able to last very long. For that reason, I had always considered it a weakness to unload that fast. I mean, this last week at the reunion, the experiences were so widely varied in their circumstances that I didn't really have time to think about it. It wasn't until this most recent climax when I wondered if Donna would think me less of a man because I came so quickly, but she wrapped her arms around me, and kept on whispering in my ear, "That's my boy, Jack, oh MAN did I need that..." I wasn't sure at that moment whether she had come or not, but the way she just folded me up in her arms and told me that the fast-and-hard thing was good for her, well, it just inspired me to do more for her.