He hadn’t been ready, but he quickly made himself so.
Since time was a bit limited on this morning, she did all she could to make short work of him. She concentrated primarily on the head and glans with her lips and tongue while her soft hand jacked him up and down. The friction she was creating was delightful and he enjoyed it without employing any of the mental blocks he used to keep orgasm at bay under normal circumstances. Within three minutes his hand gripped her shoulder and the familiar waves of pleasure exploded throughout his body. He groaned, his legs wobbly, as he shot jet after jet of semen into her sucking mouth. She swallowed every drop and then licked her lips.
“All right,” she said eagerly, laying back on the bed and spreading her legs wide. “My turn. Get to work.”
He looked down on her, seeing the now familiar sight of her wet vagina, glistening and ready for action. She had trimmed her bush considerably since that first time, removing and maintaining the removal of all the hair save a quadrilateral patch of copper on her pubis. She had also told him that he was never to refer to her vagina, pubic hair, or any other part of her genitalia as “the fire” or any analogue of synonym of that phrase. That had been the dentist’s term for it and she never wanted to hear it again. It really was a pity. Though Jake loathed the dentist and men like him, sight unseen, calling a red-haired pussy “the fire”, as in: “I’m going into the fire” or “Let me stand next to your fire”, would actually have been kind of cool. Another reason to kick the dentist’s ass if he ever did meet him.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jake asked teasingly now. “You know this is illegal in some states, right?”
“No teasing!” Laura barked at him. “I fulfilled my end of the bargain. Now get your mouth down there and start eating.”
He got his mouth down there and started eating. He did not bother with a slow build up. He simply tongued her slippery lips up and down—plunging his tongue between them once in a while for good measure—until her clitoris peeked out of its hood to see what was going on. Once that happened, he slid two fingers inside of her and began to thrust them in and out while simultaneously latching his lips onto her clit and starting to suck.
“Oh sweet Lord,” Laura breathed. “That’s it! That is it!”
She came less than a minute later, her pelvis thrashing up and down on the edge of the bed, her legs tightening around his back, her left hand gripping his hair hard enough to hurt. Her right hand, meanwhile, picked up a pillow and she used it to cover her face and muffle her cries. This was due to Rule Number 17: Make every effort possible to keep audio in all forms from penetrating outside the walls of your sleeping area.
She thrashed and groaned and moaned for the better part of a minute before finally slowing down and eventually relaxing. Her legs and hand released their respective grips on him. She pulled the pillow away from her face, revealing a bright red blush of satisfaction.
“Oh my God, you are so good at that, Jake,” she breathed.
“My talents go beyond music,” he said. “Are we even?”
She nodded. “Even,” she told him. “I guess I’d better get dressed now.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, “but first, we’d better go brush those teeth.”
They went and brushed their teeth.
And so began the first day of the new year.
Jake and Laura came down the stairs together, into a kitchen and living room where most of their fellow housemates were already present. They did not try to hide the fact that they had just come from Jake’s room and that Laura had spent the night there. They had given up trying to keep their relationship on the down-low after only the third night of it. In the first place, there was no reason to hide their togetherness. True, Laura had been allegedly “engaged”, but everyone pretty much knew the score on that relationship. And in the second place, it was impossible to hide a sexual and romantic relationship when you lived in a house with other people. It just could not be done. Nerdly had told him after they’d come clean (so to speak) that everyone knew the two of them were together by the afternoon of day two, most because they’d heard Laura’s orgasmic expressions during that first coupling, the rest because they’d been told by those that had heard. And the fact that Rule 17 had been proposed and approved—with the specific wording: in all forms—on day three of their relationship did not seem a coincidence, as much as they wanted to believe it was.
Except for Ben and Ted, who were still absent, Jake and Laura were the last of the group to make their morning appearance. Mary was at the stove, putting the finishing touches on a large pan full of scrambled eggs with potatoes and kielbasa sausage. The Nerdlys were making toast. Stan and Cindy were setting the table. Pauline was on the phone—she often was these days. Celia and Greg were sitting at the table, drinking coffee with Phil. Tom was allegedly helping Mary but was actually just standing next to her, doing little.
“Good morning, everyone,” Laura greeted brightly. Jake echoed the sentiment.
Everyone except Pauline—who was barking something about how she was sick of having to deal with this shit every goddamn day—returned the sentiment in some form or other.
“It smells great, Mom,” Jake said. “Anything we can do to help?”
“Just sit down and have some coffee,” she told them. “Everything is under control.”
“You talked us into it,” Laura said, heading for the pot.
“Of course, you two will have primary dish washing and loading duties after we’re done,” Mary advised.
“Aww,” Jake whined good naturedly. “Doesn’t being one of the big bosses swing any weight around here?”
“I’m your mother,” Mary said. “I am always going to be a bigger boss than you.”
Jake smiled and gave her a brief hug on the way to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. She smiled at the embrace, feeling that sense of love and contentment a mother feels when she has the sensation her child is doing all right. She, along with Tom, was most definitely in favor of the relationship between Jake and Laura, could not have been more delighted, in fact, for both of them. Jake needed a woman in his life, someone to stabilize him and keep him somewhat steady on the straight and narrow—as straight and narrow as Jake could be, anyway. And Laura ... Mary had really grown to like and respect Laura since first meeting her and had been appalled at the relationship she had been in with that married man—appalled on several different levels. She thought that Laura and Jake were very cute together and complimented each other. And they had so much in common—unlike her son’s previous long-term girlfriends going all the way back to Michelle, the religious fanatic who had publicly accused him of raping her and beating her.
After pouring his coffee, Jake looked at Nerdly, who was in charge of putting butter on the toast and was doing it with his normal methodical engineering. “Bill,” he told him, “I have to say, I have never seen such uniform distribution of a sandwich spread on a piece of heat-treated bread before.”
“Thanks, Jake,” Nerdly replied, pleased with the praise. “It’s all in the proportion picked up by the knife and the wrist action during the spread itself. I would venture to say that each piece of toast has an even spread to the edges within a tolerance of less than a millimeter, and an equal volume of butter on each piece within a milliliter of variance from slice to slice.”
Jake nodded approvingly. “That’s badass, Nerdly,” he told him.
“His name is Bill,” said Cindy, irritation in her tone. She had had more than her share of the fermented grapes the night before as well.