"Yeah," he says. He looks over at his duffle bag and then back out the window.
I sigh. "Ant, I wish I could take the pain away from you. But I think being out of the city and in the fresh air will do you some good. I'm glad you agreed to come."
"Pete is still ok with it?" He asked for the millionth time.
And I answer the millionth time, "Yes, he's fine with it. Don't worry."
He nods. Then he turns around and gives me a hug, his lips kissing the center of my hair. "I don't know what I would do without you, Jordanne."
I smile and say, "You would be miserable. Just like I would be without you."
Pete picks us up on Wednesday night and we made it to the Catskills Getaway vacation rentals in about 2 hours. He talks about all the wild stories coming out of JFK from other pilots and flight attendants who are getting sick and quarantined because they been around the infected. "I'm so glad I only fly domestic flights. I can't imagine having to be quarantined from you."
Anthony sits in the back with his eyes closed and has his headphones on the whole time. His plan this weekend, I can tell, is to disappear so he won't be bothersome to us. But I am honestly ok with having Ant around. We used to live together until 2 years ago when I did something I shouldn't have, and we thought it would be best if I moved out. Then he got with Felix and we never talked about the Incident, we just resumed our friendship as normal. I was surprised when he showed up at my door two weeks ago but of course I let him in.
I told Pete that he's been sleeping on the couch but really we've been sharing the bed the whole time. Not that I couldn't have told him, he thinks Anthony is completely gay, but I know for a fact that he dabbles with women from time to time. As an elementary school principal, he keeps his sexuality private as to not scare the mommies and daddies of their little ones.
We get to the cabin and it's beautiful. A pretty two story A symmetrical log cabin in the middle of nowhere right outside a lake. It's perfect. We get inside and unload the groceries in kitchen area and pull out the supermarket rotisserie chicken and sides we picked up to warm up and eat for tonight. Even though we were only staying for the weekend, we got at least a weeks worth of junk food and even more alcohol. I planned a weekend of de-stressing and that's what we are going to do.
Ant was quiet at dinner. We tried to engage him but he only answered when he was spoken to directly by either myself of Pete. Then he told us, "You both can go upstairs. I'll clean up."
I was about to protest and offer a movie or something to watch but Pete took my hand and led me to our room. "Let him be." Pete says. "He needs to feel what he is feeling without you hovering and trying to make it better for him. Breakups suck. But he'll be ok." He rubs my shoulders as he talks.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll stop being a nagging nancy." I say.
"Good." He kisses my neck and says, "Ready for bed?"
I smile and say, "No. But I'm ready for you." I stand up from the bed and straddle him, which he was ready for.
We kiss and he takes off my top and pulls one of my C cups out to nurse my nipple with that long generous tongue of his. My nipples are so sensitive and by the time he has unleashed the clasp and freed my girls from their prison, I am soaking in my thong and jeans. He holds them both with two hands close together and puts his face in my breasts, licking and sucking my dark areolas until my nipples are so hard that mini veins are popping out. Then he stands up and turns around to lay me on the bed.
He takes off my skinny jeans and sees my pink lace thong and smiles. He knows I do not like thongs, because really I see no purpose in them. Either wear full underwear or don't wear them at all, but a string up your butt just doesn't feel good, especially when your butt is as big as mines. But I will wear them once in a while for him. He doesn't even bother taking it off. He bends down and licks my wet clit right through the fabric making me moan involuntarily. He pulls the lace a little upwards, so that my brown labia is on the outside and my clit and inner lips are trapped. He holds it tightly and keeps licking me.
He has me right where he wants me, exposed but hidden. As always he starts out with slow gentle licks from the top all the way down to the opening, and then he increases his speed and pressure directly on my magic button until I am trembling before him with my orgasm. But he doesn't stop. He takes me all the way past my breaking point. I am pulling his hair to stop because I am getting louder with my screaming and a small part of me remembers we are not alone. But he knows that's a facade. I want the explosion too.
He sucks my clit hard through the lace, then a gentle release, then tightly, then release. He does this over and over again rhythmically, like his lips are my own personal clitoris suction. The fabric barrier is maddening. My climax is coming faster and taking me higher and my entire body temperature is rising. And then it happens: I've fallen over the cliff, the dam is broken and I am gushing all down his chin through the fabric. Only then does he releases me completely, leaving my insides pulsating different then my heartbeat.
He stands up and I see his chin and the top of his shirt is wet with my cum. They don't call me River Jordanne for nothing.
"Fuck," was all I could manage to get out. He takes off his shirt and I am in love with his hard muscular body with the tight pecs, small pink nipples and abs for days. He takes off his jeans and boxers and his big dick pops out. He moves to crawl on top of me but I sit up quickly and grab my pink friend, put my thick lips over him and suck off my man. He moans in his throat as I make my way further and further down his girth. When my lips get to his skin he does the slutty girl thing I love and holds my head there until I gag with his dick down my throat, pulls me back just a bit, then slams my head back against his skin until my eyes water and I gag some more.
I have to tap his hands to let me out which his does respectfully as I cough up buckets of phlegmy saliva to coat his dick with and stroke him with both hands. I look up at him with spit all down my chin and he leans over to kiss me. I can still taste my cum on his lips and it's a complete turn on. This is our foreplay and I'm ready to get fucked now and he's ready to fuck me. I move to the top of the bed, take off my pink lace thong and he lays over me. We kiss again with love and passion, then he guides himself inside of me. I love watching him do this, his eyes flutter every single time he enters, as if he still can't believe how warm, wet and tight I am.
I lift my legs up around his waist to push him in deeper and we move together as one. We kiss and hold and touch each other. We change up positions as he leans up and puts my legs on his shoulders, then put both legs on the side of him, then completely turns me over and sexes me from behind and I lay face down on the bed ass up high . I love how long Pete can last. It takes Pete a while to cum, which I discovered on our first date and that keeps me in climax the whole time.
Peter was a Tinder date, but we don't tell people that. We say we met casually online. It was supposed to be a one night stand but lasted a weekend and by Monday we were both enamored with each other. We planned to take that week to not have sex and get to know each other better, but by Friday I was riding his dick again.
And right now Pete the Pilot is giving it to me and I have no choice but to soak up this bed and call his name over and over again until his thrusting becomes erratic and he tells me, "I'm coming home baby." And just like that Pilot Pete is coming in for a landing. He starts slamming into me from behind making me cum again for the umpteenth time in the last 90 minutes and he moans. I can feel it leave his balls, pulse through his dick and swim inside of me. And I think what I always think: One day I'm going to have his babies, but not today.
He rolls off me with a "ssshhhiit." and lays next to me. He's so sweaty, it's dripping off his chest and forehead. I could get him going again easily, by pinching or sucking a nipple, but I don't, instead I just reach over and trace the sweat on his chest and with my finger and write my name. He takes my hand and kisses it, then gets up to go the bathroom and wipe himself down. He comes back with a cloth and a towel; the cloth to wipe me down with and the towel to lay underneath me so I'm not sleeping in my wet spot. This is also part of our routine, as we lay back down and I put my head in that area right between his shoulder and his arm. He caresses my back as I drape my own arm around him and fall asleep.
Day 1:
I wake up to the smell of bacon. I find some underwear and put on my robe to head downstairs. Anthony is in the kitchen making breakfast and listening to music on Spotify, and it was nice to see him smiling and in his element. "Hey Ant!" I called out. I went to give him a kiss on the cheek and sat at the counter.
"I'm surprised you walking this morning, all that good sex you got last night." He says amusingly.
I blush a bit and say, "Shut up." He laughs and hands me a glass of orange juice, which I almost spit out the first sip as the vodka burned a little going down my throat. "Whoa, this is not orange juice." He laughs and it's so good to see him laughing. "You ok today?" I ask him.
