Authors: Laura Cooper
I felt his massive hands on my back. His hands were not those of a physical laborer; they were manicured, plush and long. They trailed across my skin masterfully, through the now open back of my dress and around to cup my heavy breasts. My nipples hardened under his touch, and my skin crawled with desire. Jonathon spread the back of my dress and slid it over my shoulders, allowing it to fall into a heap of starched linen on the floor below. In a moment of oddity, Jonathon bent down to pick up the dress; my eyes followed his curious move. He lifted the dress and held it by the shoulders carefully, searching the room for a suitable location to park it. Finding a long discarded chair in the corner, he gently propped the garment over its back. I followed his every move with interest and lifted my eyebrows in question. “Well, it’s linen. It will be a wrinkled mess if we leave it there!” he said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. This was one unique man! I watched with even greater curiosity as he unbuttoned each of the tiny blue attachments on his Brooks Brother’s shirt. Curly blond hairs pierced through his broad chest. Without removing his shirt, simply leaving it open, he unleashed his belt and reached for the zipper.
“Here let me help you with that!” I rushed to assist, noticing the trembling in his hands. I’m all too aware that this is an unusual situation, and I can’t blame him for a small panic attack. But this is a day of release. Evangeline is released from a life of servitude and with her freedom, I too am un-caged. Being her sole source of comfort all of these years hadn’t been a vacation. I feel the need to express that, and Jonathon just happened to offer to walk into the Garden with me.
Kneeling in front of him, I faced his zipper head on. I slowly pulled the metal clasp down; his cock sprang from the enclosure like a ravenous beast having its cage door finally opened. I chuckled, maybe he wasn’t as intimidated by this unexpected foray as I’d imaged.
“Oh great, just what every man looks forward to when they drop their pants… laughter,” Jonathon groaned.
“Lord no Jonathon, its perfect. I mean seriously look at how long it is! It’s like you, long and tall!” I giggled again running my fingers up and down its spine playfully. “I was just thinking that my dragging you out here suddenly might be uh… scary… things might not pop up right away under those circumstances.” I continued to trace my fingertips around the head as I spoke. “But this big guy attacked me as soon as I opened the door!”
Jonathon joined my humor, “Okay, okay! I might not have been completely honest about why I came here today. Let’s just say that I may have had a fantasy about you once or twice…”
I met its gaze without fear; my passion for him was stronger than anything I’d ever felt. It could’ve been be the desperate need I had for release right then, but I know I’d never experienced anything quite so strong. I turned back to the serious matter in my hand. It was a bit longer than any I’d had before, but its girth was easily sustainable. Flicking my tongue to test its flavor, I accidentally tickled the tip. The beast sprung to life with fury at my touch. The taste was manly and needful as I opened to allow it entrance. I drew it in eagerly, wetting its length with my saliva as it aimed for the back of my throat.
With hunger rising between my legs, I prepared his beast, running my wet tongue around its head down to the curly blond hairs at its base. I felt the strong veins along the side with my tongue as though they were Braille writings, explaining the map of my future. I was infatuated with it, as though I needed to know its most intimate detail.
The cock fought with desperation to find its way back into my mouth, but I denied it entrance until its head began to weep with salty tears. When it began producing its own moisture, I allowed it back into its desired location. It plunged into my mouth with a vengeance, and Jonathon’s hands on the top of my head guided me tenderly back and forth on it, massaging his length. With my mouth full, I used my hands to slide Jonathon’s slacks down his legs. Feeling the muscular thighs beneath my fingers and the waves of blond hairs heavily coating them, my own wetness threatened to explode.
What I thought was going to be a simple romp in the Garden had turned into something so much more powerful. Sensuality I’d not known crept to the surface and was overtaking me. His body, his words, his carriage, everything about this man suddenly fascinated me. It’s as though we were two frogs searching the world for that one magic touch that would turn us into Princes and Princesses.
My fingers barely touched his thighs and I smiled, noticing the shiver that ran up them. When his legs were free of cloth, I turned the bulk of my attention back to the demanding monster in my mouth. Running my tongue in swirls around it I felt the first notion of its purpose, the beginnings of the slippery mixture spilt into my throat and enticed me to draw more. Incensed by his desire, I increased pressure. The muscles in my face pulled him in and out of my mouth with growing suction. My hands cupped the tight balls at his base and rolled them between my fingers. Jonathon’s hands were still on my head, urging me to complete the transaction. As my suction increased, he spat the first stream of nectar onto my tonsils. I maneuvered my tongue to greet the next splash, and then the final slow meandering remnants of Jonathon.
But I was startled by the dim sunlight that filtered suddenly into the tiny cottage.
“Hmpff huff hgm…” A masculine shadow in the doorway issued.
I looked up from my position on the floor to see a young, sturdy, black man standing with the sunlight on his back. “Yes?” I voiced.
“Ma’am, your momma sent me to get you. Said you needed to come on in now. That lawyer is ready to meet with ya’ll.”
Still kneeling in front of Jonathon’s rapidly shrinking genitals, I thought for a moment, “And who exactly are you?”
“’Scuse me ma’am, I am Hawthorne. Took over for my daddy when he retired.”
My mind wandered back in history, “Wait! Little Robbie Hawthorne? Hampton’s boy?”
“Yes’m.” The young man responded. Even as he spoke he took two strides to my side, lifting my elbow in his massive hands to help me from my compromising position. I could have sworn I saw his eyes twinkle as he lifted me with one hand to my feet.
“Well, my my Robbie, you look so handsome in your uniform!” I noted the straight black suit. “But don’t you think it’s taking the whole southern black servant thing a bit too far?”
“Thank you Miss Dev’ro. ” Hawthorne carefully removed my dress from the forgotten chair and handed it to me as I slid my barely clothed ass into a worn wicker sofa and observed him with humor.
“’Fraid your momma thinks Daddy’s old uniform is still the style,” he mumbled uncomfortably.
“Hghhmmm” Jonathon cleared his throat.
“Oh forgive me, Robbie. Surely you remember Jonathon Galloway?”
“’Deed I do.” Hawthorne said, and then began muttering disapproval under his breath as he moved to gather Jonathon’s clothing.
“Hey! What did I do?” Jonathon exclaimed, but caught his clothes in mid air as Hawthorne tossed them to him in a ball.
Robbie continued muttering under his breath, “Ain’t no business takin’ advantage…” Clearing his throat, Hawthorne made his complaints legible, “It’s just that a man of your stature ain’t got no business taking this girl out here and havin’ your way with her!”
Jonathon’s face lit up with laughter. His paper white teeth shone through his crooked smile, “Robbie! First, I have no
stature
. Second, she was the one on her knees, not me!”
I burst into laughter, “Oh yeah, right. Throw me under the train. I see how this is going!”
Hawthorne’s seriousness didn’t falter, “Still, it just ain’t right, at the funral and all.”
“For God’s sake Robbie, you sound like my great grandmother or something. It wasn’t that long ago I was pushing you on the damn tire swing in the back yard!” Truthfully, if my mind did the math correctly, Robbie was about Jonathon’s age. What
was
the deal with this southern accent thing he’s doing? He probably had a better education than I did!
“What the hell is that accent thing? Didn’t you go to Wofford? I thought I heard something about you playing football there?” Jonathon’s face still marked his humor, but now contained marked cynicism as well.
Robbie straightened, “None of that has anything to do with finding Ellen on her knees in the Garden during her Daddy’s funeral. Get your damned clothes on and get in the house before I bury your ass over there behind the bamboo with that last dog of her Daddy’s.”
Jonathon held up his hands in defeat. It was fairly clear that Robbie had taken over the ‘goings on’ at the Devereux mansion. He bent down and pulled his pants on.
“Hang on a minute here! What if I’m not finished!” I complained, still giddy from the current that’d passed between me and Jonathon.
“Oh you’re finished. And for the record Ellen, if you feel the need to suck that skinny little dick again, would you mind doing it over at your own house. I’ve got to get this place in order for Mrs. Devereux.”
“Hey! I resent that! It may be skinny, but it gets the job done!” Jonathon teased.
I glanced up at him and chuckled, “I hope I get to test that theory one day!” But I stood and dressed per Robbie’s orders regardless. The realization that Robbie was caught in a precarious situation dawned on me. Evangeline had no idea how to run a house of this magnitude, so she’d gone with the only reasonable path, find someone who did. Robbie had grown up here; he was impressively educated and well trained, and that made him the logical choice to manage the house. I had to give kudos to my step mother. She’d chosen well.
With his truants fully dressed, Robbie Hawthorne led the way back through the fading wisteria tunnel towards the house, still muttering under his breath. Jonathon and I kept pace behind him, giggling quietly. I put my hand to my mouth to control my laughter; I couldn’t go back into my father’s funeral behaving as if this was a keg party after all. Catching the scent of Jonathon’s sex on my hand, I stuck it under his nose so that he could smell his scent on me. He squeezed my hand tightly but giggled like the naughty boy he was. Robbie stopped us just at the end of the Garden path, “Alright you two, stand up straight and act like you’ve got good sense.”
Out of respect, we both stiffened and followed him into the grieving house.
They are twins, but you’d never know it; one’s a chatter box while the other sits politely until she’s asked a question. I respect that. Though deaf, she responds to vibrations extremely well. My nipples perk as she spreads her joy to all other parts of me.
~Tara Townsend
My Path to the Pole
Cleaning House
Ellen’s words jump off the screen in front of me. I want to be her, be touched by a man who is falling madly in love with me. I’m mesmerized by her strong will to go after and do only what she wants in life. I want to move on, read more, but Simmons could walk in at any minute and I don’t think I want him to know I’m reading this manuscript. To be honest, I’m a little hot and heavy here right now after reading about Jonathon. It’d be embarrassing as hell for him to see me this way; instead I head for my bathroom to take a hot bath and try to silence Vagina.
And it’s during my bath that I decide to call Patty. Ellen has inspired me, given me the sliver of backbone to at least take a closer look at their club. It’s time I put on my big girl panties and venture out. Of course I’m cheered on by Vagina.
“So you really want to give it a shot?” Patty sounds excited, as if I’d just announced I was pregnant or something. It seems a bit overdone in my mind.
“I think so. What can it hurt?” But I’m not at all convinced that some of the things she’d told me would be involved, wouldn’t hurt.
“Okay then! Off we go! Let me call Jonathon and see when he can meet with you.”
“Wait! I mean, hang on a minute. I need to ask your opinion on something that’s been bothering me about all this.”
Patty chuckles through the phone, “Let me guess, the C word?”
I stand confused, “What C word?”
“Cheating. You want to ask me if you’ll be cheating on Simmons.”
Actually I’d wanted to ask her more about Jonathon; she’d mentioned that a Jonathon did the training and I wondered if it’s the same one. “Now that you mention it, what
do
you think about that?”
“Simmons? Well honey that man needs a wake-up call more than anyone I’ve ever known. He’s got the best woman in town and he treats her like a chambermaid!”
I sigh, “Glad to know someone has some confidence in me.”
“Got your back, bitch!”
I know she does. If anyone other than Patty had mentioned joining this club, or even going to see what it’s all about, I would have tossed the idea out like yesterday’s trash and not given it another second thought. But it hadn’t been anyone else, and after reading the manuscript, at least the first chapter, I’m struck by the urge to do something wild and crazy for a change. “I suppose I could ask Simmons,” I say aloud.