Jayne's World

Jayne's World Pt. 17.

Paying my rent with a most momentous fuck and orgasm.

MAX

"They loved it babe, they fucking loved it, and they loved you Marie, er sorry, Jayne. They already want another session ASAP," I said to you after the session had finished, you'd showered and changed and the guys had gone.

"Really?" you replied rather morosely, now looking embarrassed.

"Yes love really, fucking really, you were amazing," I said, running my gaze up and down your clothed body which I had so recently seen beautifully naked as you masturbated and fucked yourself with the vibrator. And that was just about as horny a performance as I had ever seen in my studio. Not only that, but it had also made me want you and I couldn't really quite understand that. In the five years or so that I'd run the studio and had been involved with models, I hadn't gone after any of them, even though a few had offered it 'on a plate' to me. Somehow, this Jayne or Marie, or whatever, was different, and was getting to me big time. I wasn't at all sure whether to push it and try to fuck her, or to leave it, so I thought, let nature take its course and added, "so, when are you next back up here, Jayne?"

Looking me right in the eye and smiling you replied, "when would you want me?"

"Now, now Jay, you know you shouldn't say such things to horny old sods like me."

"Sorry," you beamed back, adding "What have we got lined up?"

"How about a double act for a small group?"

"Okay, when?"

"Let me check and I'll call you later, by the way how's James?"

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen him recently I wondered if everything was ok with you two?"

"Actually, I'm not seeing him now."

"What, have you broken up? You were a number weren't you?"

"Sort of, yes."

HER.

In the debrief after the session with the four guys where I had gone further than I had expected or intended, I admitted to Max that James and I had been romantically involved. I explained that we had broken up largely due to his jealousy and I couldn't help a wry smile when Max immediately came back with, "So, on the lookout for another older man replacement?"

As usual, I came back with a cocky reply and asked, "Why, know anyone suitable?" to which Max didn't reply as his phone rang and he was on there for ages. As he gabbled on and on my mind went back over the past hour or so and I couldn't believe just how far I had gone or what I'd done as they had taken shots and two video cameras had recorded everything. It was ridiculous enough in that I had spread my legs almost lewdly for the cameras, but to then stroke my body, rub my clit and start finger-fucking myself really took the biscuit. Then to top it all, I ran the buzzing vibrator all over my body and finished by fucking myself with it until I had a long and intense orgasm, all of which was captured on film.

I wasn't sure just how much I should have told Max about James, but in for a penny and all that, so I told him that we had been involved but were now not seeing each other and he jokingly, maybe, offered to replace him. That was the last thing I needed, but as had happened previously after posing, I was feeling incredibly horny and I horrified myself by being tempted, and had to fight quite strongly to resist giving in. Luckily, though I managed to, and after a little more chat I caught a cab to the hotel where, inevitably I guess, I masturbated again using the vibrator which, I giggled, was rapidly becoming my close friend.

Max had arranged another session for me the next morning. This was a one to one for ninety minutes so I guessed it would be straightforward and quite easy money. Up to a point it was, but towards the end things changed.

I was naked again, apart from long black lacey top holdups. Glen the photographer was a youngish bloke, probably early thirties. He was good looking and a nice guy and asked me to lay on the floor. He took several shots standing either side of me and then knelt down. As he did, I saw that he had an erection and, as it had several times when posing, that gave me a little thrill. But then why shouldn't it, I rationalised to myself. After all, I'd caused it.

His knee was very near to my leg, mid-way up my thigh, so the bulge in his jeans was very close to me. It seemed to be almost leering at me, tempting me, inviting me to reach out and rub it, as I so easily could have, and nearly did. That thought shocked me, but I managed to resist doing anything. Then, as his eye was glued to the camera, I was shocked even more when he said softly, "Do you do extras Marie?"

I couldn't believe either that I didn't immediately say no, or that I was tempted to ask what he wanted, and like a fool driven by something other than morals or common sense, I asked, "such as?"

"Anything actually," was his neutral but somewhat frustrating reply. However, that made me pull myself together and I muttered, "I'm sorry Glen, no I don't."

Later on the train home my mind was in a whirl. I kept veering from wondering about my performance with the four guys and how far I'd gone, to Glen asking about extras, and more pointedly, me being tempted both by him and Max. I recalled thinking 'it's only a fuck' and if I had met Glen in a bar and got to know him a bit, I would probably have slept with him; so what was the difference, other than that he would pay me? The thoughts about Glen were worrying enough but on top of that I was concerned about how aroused I had been while posing for the guys and how I had so willingly got myself off with the dildo. Then there was how I had flirted with Max and the worrying thought that maybe if he had pushed things after I had posed, I might well have let him have me.

On top of all of my Leeds adventures, I had Mickey back in London wanting to see me more often and do more things with and to me. Since we'd started, his lovemaking had become rougher and more aggressive. I wasn't totally averse to a bit of hair pulling and overly energetic tit sucking and I'd heard that girls being spanked was becoming quite fashionable, although I hadn't tried it. But he was taking things further than where I had ever been before.

Just as had happened last time as I travelled home on the train, I could feel my body becoming sexually agitated. Remembering what I had done to overcome it then, I thought for some time, then I rummaged into my carry wardrobe and as surreptitiously as I could, pulled out the vibrator, which was still in its wrapping, and slid it into my hand bag.

Standing before the usefully large, mid-thigh to above-my-head mirror in the fairly roomy toilet, I stared at myself wondering what the hell was happening to me. I realised and accepted that I was becoming obsessed with sex. It was hardly ever out of my mind and I was beginning to wonder whether it was due to me having just a large appetite for sex or whether I was becoming, or had become, a nymphomaniac? Also, I marvelled at how easily I pushed the boundaries when posing, so readily played with myself and so easily made myself cum. I was clearly becoming even more of slut than I had been since my sexual maturity had blossomed. Sex was always buzzing around my mind but, and there was a bloody great but that I just couldn't get my head around: I didn't necessarily want to have more sex. I felt that given the right circumstances, I probably would, as I almost did with Max and the guy I posed for this morning, but actually having sex didn't seem to be necessary, and in a way that only made things worse. Hardly without thinking, I undid the buttons on my blouse and eased my breasts out from my bra. I just couldn't understand myself or really even my problem. I turned the vibrator on and ran it across my nipples.

I undid my belt, slid the zip on my jeans down, pushed them and my panties down and looked at myself with my tits out and my bare mound exposed. Fuck I looked good, I arrogantly smiled to the mirror, as I slid the black monster across my clit and between my legs. It felt lovely and I eased it into me and fucked myself to a quick and satisfying orgasm.

HIM.

I thought I had pretty much got over Jayne, and put it down to a period of remarkably good luck. I didn't think many guys of my age ever got the chance to have a multi-month fling with such a wonderful young woman as Jayne and, whilst I missed her and wished it could have carried on, I was able to reconcile my feelings and, as it were, put them into the back of my mind. Then, fuck it, I met Max again at a club evening.

"I hear you and Marie, er, I mean, Jayne are no longer together. Sorry to hear that mate."

"Who told you we ever were 'together', as you put it?" I replied rather gruffly, smiling grimly at the play on words.

"Well, funnily enough, she did."

"You've seen her then?"

"Yes, she's been up a couple of times."

"Recently?"

"Yes fairly, she's been doing some modelling for me and bloody hell James, she really is a brilliant fucking model."

As that phrase went through my mind, I thought back to the row she and I had as we broke up and how she had told me that posing made her want to cum and that she might have let the photographers fuck her if they had pushed it. And that, naturally I suppose, given my natural jealous streak, made me wonder if Max had been with her. I didn't know whether I wanted to just walk away and forget this conversation, ask him more questions or punch the cocky bastard in the face.

MICKEY.

I've always had this aggressive nature. But then, to get to the top of most businesses you need something like that, especially when you're part of the East End crime world. That's the one that made the Krays famous as they ran it in the 50s and 60s. Not that violence was necessary or used much nowadays, but the prospect of it being available if needed was essential. With me, it went further than the implied violence necessary on the streets around Bethnal Green, Mile End and Stepney in the tough part of London to the east of the City. It extended to when I had sex.

I'd known Jayne since she was a kid. She was one of my best mate's daughters and I'd watched her grow into a beautiful and extremely sexy young woman. I knew it was wrong, I knew that I shouldn't think about her the way that I was starting to, and I remember as clearly as anything when my feelings for her went sexual. It was at her eighteenth birthday party back in 2004 or 5 when I danced with her to a slowish Lionel Richie number. She was in my arms, her breasts which like her mum's were nicely full, round and prominent, were squashed against my chest and, fuck it, I started to get hard. I moved my body away from hers a little, but it didn't work for she also moved, but towards me. As they always seem to do, my erection got caught up in my boxers and the tail of my shirt, so thankfully it didn't rear up my stomach. Instead, the bloody thoughtless lump of cock flesh sort of wrapped itself into something akin to a ball and formed a sodding great lump that was pressing right against Jayne's lower stomach, possibly her pubic mound. I moved my head away from where it had been resting on her shoulder and our gazes met. She smiled and as it was clear she had felt it I whispered, "sorry".

She mouthed back, "That's okay Mickey, it happens."

It wasn't mentioned again but it was a topic that was there between us in a sort of logic chain: I knew that she knew that I knew and she knew that I knew that. For a while as her dad and I worked together on a few deals when I would see her, she always gave me that knowing, enormously sexy smile as if saying to me, 'I've felt your hard-on you horny bastard.'

HER.

Max was onto me pretty much every day; sometimes several times a day by email or phone as we tried to set up another session with the Indians and the Middle Eastern guys.

"They're absolutely fucking delighted with you love and they want more, they've already covered their costs from the first shoot," he told me a couple of weeks later. "They travel a lot and none of them want the others to have you without them there."

"Have me, Max?" I replied.

"You know what I mean love," he retorted adding, "all four have to be there and that's hard to organise."

"Okay. Well never mind."

"But I have another idea."

"What's that?"

"You with a male model."

"And what am I supposed to do with him?"

"Actually Jay, whatever you want."

"How do mean?"

"Exactly what I say. It's a session where both of you decide."

"Hmm, interesting."

"Oh by the way I saw your boyfriend the other day."

It didn't register what at first but then the penny dropped. "James?"

"Yes, your uncle, isn't he?"

"Is that what he told you?" I asked rather naively.

"Well, no, just that you'd broken up. Is that right?"

"Actually, Max that's hardly your business, is it?" I said rather snottily.

"Might be love, especially if you're looking for a replacement."

"As you said, Mrs. Max would kill me and I rather like living, thank you."

"At least that's not a definite no then, is it?"

I didn't reply but left his question hanging so he went on silence-filling with, "Okay love, see you Friday then. Five o'clock start, alright?"

The prospect of posing with a hunk of a model interested and, in some ways excited me, especially when Max sent me a photo. He was quite gorgeous.

MICKEY.

When I woke up every other Thursday and realised that I would be seeing Jayne later in the day, I started hardening. I'd been having sex with her for some time now and she never ceased to enthral me with her beauty, youthful sexiness and sheer fucking horniness. Apart from the times when she had her period, she was always up for it and had gone along with me as I asked her to go further. When we'd started it had been monthly but as the economy recovered a little from the 2008 credit crunch and things picked up a bit, so I put the rent up, and now I see her twice a month. Alright, to sweeten the pill a little I also let her use one of the cars a garage I owned had in stock, so it was a good deal for both of us and would have been cheap for me at twice the price!

Her dad and I had been friends from when we were at school together and although our career paths had gone separate ways, we had kept in touch and remained mates. When his fairly dodgy property development business became a victim of the crunch and he and his wife Amanda split up and both moved to Spain, I helped him out. Although my almost totally illegitimate group of businesses were suffering, they were not hit so hard that any went under, but then, when you don't pay tax, things are easier to manage. That said, I lost several tenants from the twenty or so houses and apartments that I owned that were scattered around the East End of London, so it was my pleasure to offer one for Jayne to use free of charge, or so I told Kevin. To Jayne it was a slightly different story.

"Actually, babe there is something to pay," I told her after she'd gushingly thanked me for what her dad had told her.

"And what's that uncle Mickey?" she asked with big grin.

"I'm pretty sure you can work that out Jayne, can't you?"

Always as sharp as a needle she came back immediately with, "When and how often?"

Neither of us were that surprised when we agreed to have sex the last Thursday afternoon of each month. After all, since the incident at her birthday party when I got an erection and apologised a week or so later and she said something like, "no big deal Mick, it happens with guys," and I had asked, "You don't mind then?" we'd had occasional sex.

As I'd undressed her the first time, she'd told me that she had a thing for older men and smiling back as I unclipped her bra and freed her gorgeous breasts I replied, "And I have a big thing for young women."

"Not too young, I hope," she had said, as she dropped her bra onto the bed in the executive suite of the small hotel I owned near to where Bow Bells were supposed to be, adding, "but I don't mind how big the thing is."

Then I fucked her and it was like magic.

Although obviously much younger than Amanda, Jayne had a similar shaped figure, with full, nicely rounded tits that seems to grow almost before my eyes. I'd been quite reluctant to have sex with Amanda when she had offered it a few years ago, but in the end, I had taken her up on the offer and boy was she something! In my defence at shagging a friend's wife, they were separated when we started doing it and during the five or so years we had occasional sex, they were always on and off, so I saw her as fair game, as she obviously did me.

I hadn't seen Jayne for a couple of months as business had taken me to Albania and Italy so when I woke this particular Thursday and realised I was in London and would see her, I was excited, sexually that is. I called her just to make sure everything was in order, and she confirmed that it was and that she was looking forward to seeing me at two as usual.

When she opened the door, she looked absolutely gorgeous and so fuckable that I was onto her almost before she'd shut the door to the apartment.

HER.

Having given up James, not seen Mickey for what seemed an age and with no other fuckbuddies around at the moment, I thought I was ready for whatever Mickey wanted. How wrong was that?

He was only just inside the apartment when he was growling, "Fuck I've missed you babe," and was pawing at me as his mouth found mine and his tongue plunged into it. Usually, he was a good kisser but today he was simply too eager and aggressive to be that, although his sheer passion excited me. So, as he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth and pressed it against mine, I kissed him back and found myself following his lead and returning the passion with which he was kissing me. Also, as we usually did, we used our bodies and hands as part of our kiss, which, it suddenly struck me, was really only saying hello, making me wonder just what the soon-to-be sex would be like. I soon found out as his hands went straight to my ass in my tight white jeans and he squeezed both of my cheeks very firmly, pulling me against his full erection. That was rearing straight up his stomach, causing me to think that he was probably hard even before I opened the door. Not only did that thought add to my excitement, but also the feeling of it against my pubic mound, clit and stomach added to it, and caused me to writhe against the beautiful length that I knew would shortly be buried deep inside me.

One of his hands went to my breasts, moving from one to the other, squeezing and pinching the pliant flesh and firm nipples. He was feeding off both my ass and tits at the same time as he fondled them more aggressively than usual. That I put down to how long it had been since we last had sex. I was loving it and I found his cock inside his trousers - he always wore a suit - and revelled in holding and rubbing his length.

"That's good babe," he said gruffly, pushing it tighter into my hand. I fumbled at his zip and slid it down as he pushed his hand inside my top and onto my bra covered breasts. I wanted more, and reaching down, I grabbed the hem and yanked it up, past my breasts, over my head and off.

"Oh fuck yes, that's great Jayne," he growled, pushing his hand into my bra and scooping one of my C cup tits out. His mouth descended onto it, firstly finding the nipple that he sucked quite greedily, before moving onto the swell of the breast, sucking hard on it. He was fumbling at my bra clasp and like many men, couldn't work out how to undo it, so he started getting annoyed and pulled the bra straps off my shoulders and down my arms.

"Stop Mickey, let me," I told him, reaching behind my back and undoing it with the dexterousness that only women possess.

"Thanks babe," he muttered, yanking the bra off and dropping it on the floor so I was topless and my boobs were available for his attention visually, orally and with his hands. He made good use of each of those faculties to stimulate my breasts so much which, together with the delights I was getting from having his wonderfully hard cock grinding against my stomach, took me embarrassingly near to a climax. I knew that it would take very little more to tip me over the edge and make me cum.