"I think I figured something out," Charlie sat on the edge of Jacob's desk. It was Monday morning, the start of a new day, a new week, and for Charlie a new relationship. She'd been thinking about practically nothing else since Thursday.
He looked up, waiting patiently.
"I had...drinks...with Emmy last week." She paused, thinking whether to tell him more. "Well...more than drinks." She looked away and changed tack. "Anyway, I think you and she have something in common. Something rare."
He continued to wait, knowing it sometimes took Charlie a few sentences to figure out what she was trying to say.
"Shit. Okay. Let me try this out on you: we've been building this business based on the belief that you somehow arouse women, without any specific efforts on your part. I've told you I think it has something to do with the smell of your penis." She saw his eyes flicker, knowing he was humoring her. They'd discussed it so many times, and although she knew he'd run out of energy to argue against the idea, she also knew that didn't mean he accepted it. She licked her lips, wishing she could smell it now. It had been months since they'd had sex, but after her night with Emmy, she figured her need for him would have diminished. Oddly it had only gotten more intense.
He watched her face and felt her need, smiling thinly. As much as he had desired a deeper relationship with her, he had resigned himself to her keeping her distance. He took her reasons at face value: to build her career, to not get too close to the people she worked with, and so on. But he liked this woman and after all of these years still held out hope she would commit to something more than physical intimacy.
"You've been surprised at Emmy's effect on you, right?" She got up and pulled a chair in front of him.
He nodded, still patiently waiting for her to get to the point.
"Okay," she exhaled, "what if, and don't stop me, your 'smell' is some kind of pheromone?" She didn't pause long—this was an old argument and she wasn't interested in revisiting his protests. "And what if Emmy has something similar?"
He kept his face passive, not wanting to provoke her, and leaning forward took her hands in his. He pursed his lips, giving the appearance of considering her assumption. "Of course, if we accept the notion about my effect, then it opens the door to the possibility Emmy has a similar...gift." He rolled his chair toward hers, still holding her hands, locking his eyes onto her. "How was she?" He smiled, their faces practically close enough to kiss.
It was Charlie's turn to roll her eyes, but she knew she couldn't deny the implication. He could read her like nobody else she'd known. She looked away and exhaled again. "Insane. Incredible. I..." she almost said out loud what she'd been thinking all weekend:
I'm falling in love.
But she couldn't imagine it was true. She hadn't thought of herself that way. She felt his hands move up her arms and she froze even as a pulse warmed her deep inside.
"Shhh," he rubbed lightly, comfortingly. "I'm still the same man. You know I care deeply for you. This isn't about me." He moved his hands up to her shoulders, pushing her sleeves with them.
She caught a whiff of cinnamon and looked down to see if his penis was stiffening beneath his tunic. She thought she saw an impression, but it wasn't obvious and she quickly glanced back at his face. Realizing he'd seen her glancing down, she pressed her lips together, feeling the warmth growing between her legs.
"What are we doing?" She felt off balance. She needed him inside her, but the feelings from last Thursday with Emmy were still fresh. She pushed everything aside for a moment to press her point, ignoring his fingers massaging her shoulders, ignoring the spice in her nose on every inhale, and most of all ignoring the growing need she was feeling in her core. "Isn't it possible she has something similar to you?"
He nodded gently, letting her know he understood the argument, but not necessarily accepting it. "It's possible," he agreed, pressing his thumbs against her collarbone and rubbing her muscles. "We have time before the first class."
She closed her eyes, letting his hands move muscles she hadn't realized were tense. She exhaled and nodded, her arousal building. She pushed her fingers against his thighs, pulling the fabric up across his briefs, her hands against his warmth. She rolled her chair closer, cupping his growing erection through the fabric of his shorts, her heart beating faster as his fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse. This wasn't what she had intended when she came in this morning...or was it? All weekend her emotions had been on a roller-coaster from her "date" with Emmy, and now the memory of Emmy's compliance mixed with her need for Jacob to take her.
He had peeled her blouse and bra off, his fingers gently stroking her light brown breasts, his thumb rubbing across her stiffening deep pink nipples. She moaned softly, pressing against the growing lump between his legs. She stood up slightly to let him pull down her skirt and underwear, distracted by the thought she would leave a stain on the chair if she didn't take care.
She needed to feel his skin against her breasts and tugged at his tunic. He lifted to let her slide it up and, interrupting his caresses, pulled it over his head. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling them together, her mouth planting kisses on his neck, feeling his warm skin press against her nipples.
So different from Emmy
, she thought, the memory of their bodies pressed together on the floor of her living room overlaying the sensation of his firm muscles against her breasts.
She dragged her hands down his back, pulling at the waistband of his shorts and, with him tipping forward, dragging them down his thighs past his knees. The spice of his cock hit her nose and she pulled back to look at his member, brown and lengthening as she watched. She needed to have it in her; she wanted him to fuck her throat but she knew it was impossible. She'd tried. Multiple times. Still, she bent down, sliding her chair back, opening her lips to take him in.
He sat back and opened his legs, his hands rested lightly on her head, caressing her there just as he had her breasts. He loved her mouth, wet cheeks, her teeth lightly grazing across his stick, her tongue darting up and down the underside. He knew she wanted to take him deeper, but there was only one student, other than Emmy, in all the years who had sufficient skill and anatomy to take him in entirely. It wasn't important to him. Surely not as important as it was to her.
She only got half-way down, his cock filling her mouth and pushing against the back of her palette. If she went any further she'd either choke or lose her breakfast and she didn't want either of those choices. Instead she just hovered in place, pulling on it with each inhalation, rolling her tongue around what little space there was and relishing the taste and smell of him. Her insides were loosening, the warmth heating up to a brighter need. She knew she was leaking onto the chair. She needed him deep inside her.
Pulling off his cock (noting how much thicker and erect it had become) she looked at his face, knowing hers was a mess: lusty, wet, needy. He reached under her arms and easily lifted her up over his rising wood. She spread her legs, one hand reaching to her labia to open herself as wide as possible, the other encircling his shaft to guide him into her. Slowly he let her down, just entering her but not lowering her further.
She felt his cockhead pushing her wide open and knew it would hurt. Even three of her fingers, or her largest toy, weren't a match for his size. She hadn't had anything in her as big as him since the last time they'd fucked, months ago. She moaned as he slowly let her down, impaling her on him. As he pushed her open she yelped involuntarily, an equal mixture of pain and relief from her aching need to be filled. Lower, deeper, thicker, she imagined his pole spreading her pink walls apart; the image triggered more lubrication. She felt her liquid sliding past her opening even as she bottomed out on him.
