"Yes," she panted, her pelvis starting to rise and fall on the couch. "Now put your fingers back in me and angle them upward. Fuck me hard with them while you suck my clit."
"Mmm hmmm," Jake agreed, doing as requested.
"Suck harder!" she demanded. "More upward angle!"
He tilted his wrist lower so his fingers were putting considerable pressure on the upper wall of her vaginal passage. He sucked harder, hard enough that his mouth threatened to cramp up on him.
"Yes... yes!" Helen cried, her head shaking back and forth. "That's it! Keep doing that!"
He kept doing it and soon the unmistakable signs of approaching orgasm began to manifest themselves in her body. Her pelvis slammed up and down. Her vaginal walls clenched and released on his fingers. Her skin flushed and broke out in goosebumps.
"Almost... almost there," she panted, spreading her legs as wide as they could possibly be spread.
He sucked harder and kept plunging his fingers in and out. A high pitched whine emitted from her lips and suddenly she said, "Pull... pull your face away or... or you're gonna get a mouthful!"
He pulled his face away about six inches but kept up the finger action. She was moaning continuously now.
"Here it comes!" she squeaked as she put her left hand down just above her clitoris and pushed down with her fingers.
A shot of clear liquid blasted out of her and splattered across his face. Holy fucking shit! he thought, amazed. He knew instantly it was not urine. It had the strong, almost overpowering odor of sexual musk. It was the same liquid as the juices that made her slick and wet. Another shot squirted out and struck him directly in the mouth and then another shot him in the left eye, blinding it, making it sting. Two more shots came out but they didn't have the force to reach his face, they simply dribbled down on the couch and made a rather large wet spot.
Jake exhaled and the juice sprayed from his mouth. "Wow," he said, in awe of what he'd just witnessed. "It's not a myth."
"Fuck no," said Helen, who was still panting. "Did you like it?"
He licked his lips, tasting the strong tang of her juices on his lips. Slowly he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I did."
"Good," she said, reaching down and grabbing him at the armpits. She pulled on him. "Now get up here and fuck me!"
He didn't need to be told twice. He didn't even bother taking off his shirt. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, quickly grabbed a condom out of it, and then dropped his pants and underwear in one motion.
"You won't need that rubber," Helen told him as he struggled to open it. "I'm on the pill."
Jake hesitated, having an instant flashback to Rachel and the fights they'd had over this very subject.
"What's the matter?" Rachel panted, reaching out and putting her hand on his erection. "Get this fucking thing in me!"
"Are you really on the pill?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
She opened her mouth to yell something at him and then stopped, seeming to think better of it. Her expression softened a little. "I'm really on the pill, Jake," she said. "I'm not looking to be a mommy yet, not even to a rich rock star's kid."
He sensed no deception in her eyes. Making a snap decision he tossed the unopened condom aside and sank himself into her body, bareback for the first time since Mindy Snow. The sensation was exquisite and the feeling of danger that came with it only enhanced it.
They coupled hard and fast on the couch, Jake still wearing his shoes, Helen still wearing her now-tattered dress. They grunted and groaned like animals, Helen licking the juices she'd squirted from Jake's face and then driving her tongue into his mouth. Jake basked in the sensation of slamming into her without a condom on, of the feeling of her tight walls clenching and releasing him.
Soon she was approaching orgasm again, her pelvis slamming back at him in the age-old rhythm.
"Back up a little," she told him, pushing him upright. "I can do it again."
He brought himself up straight and continued to thrust in her. She put her hand back on her pubis, just above her clitoris, and pushed. With a scream and a cry she came, squirting a less powerful but still substantial amount of juice out of her body, drenching his pubic hair and the shaft of his manhood.
This sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. The circuit breaker that kept his orgasm at bay sizzled and fried and almost before he knew what was happening, he was pouring himself out into her body.
They collapsed together, lying skin-to-skin, clothing-to-clothing, exchanging a few deep, sexual kisses that were not the least bit romantic. When he was able to breathe normally again he raised up a bit and looked at her.
"I've had a lot of sex in my life," he said. "At times I started to think I'd seen and done it all. It's nice to know there really is something new under the sun."
She giggled, kissing him harshly on the neck and nipping at his skin. "And we've only just begun," she said. "We haven't even made it off the couch yet."
"I still have my shoes on," Jake said, making both of them laugh.
"Why don't we order dinner now?" Helen suggested. "I'll have the filet mignon with a baked potato and a salad."
"Okay," Jake said, climbing off of her, marveling at the huge wet spot they'd left on the couch. It was more than a foot in diameter. He had seen a lot of wet spots in his time but never one that large, not even during the last tour when he'd successfully completed a two by six and won a thousand dollars from Matt.
"I'm gonna take a shower while you're doing that," she said, standing up and letting her ruined dress fall to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked. "Why don't you join me while we're waiting for the food. I'll see if I can get you recharged for round two."
"Sounds like a plan," Jake said, his penis already starting to twitch in anticipation of more.
At 9:45 that night Ronald Dithers called Jim Stinson again. At this point Stinson was down at his office coordinating the group of photographers and reporters that would be descending on the Ferriday Hotel early the next morning. The editor of the paper was happy with the story his entertainment section was working on. There was really nothing else going on in the world at the moment that was newsworthy. Sure the Middle East was alive with strife but when wasn't it? And the election was approaching and both candidates were slinging mud at each other but there was nothing new on that front. And, of course, an Omaha police officer had shot an armed robbery suspect after a pursuit but he hadn't killed him so that story would only be a short blurb on the Metro page. This Jake Kingsley thing was news. Especially if it turned out he was with a new girlfriend and shacked up in one of the local hotels.
"What do you got for me?" Stinson asked once Ronald identified himself.
They had talked on the phone several times now since the original notification with Ronald sharing every detail he could glimmer. "I've confirmed that they're both in the same room," he told the reporter.
"How so?" Stinson asked.
"Kingsley ordered two room service meals sent to his room about forty minutes ago," he told him. "When our delivery guy brought the meals up there Kingsley answered the door wearing nothing but one of our robes."
"Was the broad anywhere to be seen?"
"No," Ronald told him, "but the server said the whole room reeked of pussy like he'd never smelled before."
"Nasty pussy?" Stinson asked, wincing at the thought.
"No, fresh pussy," Ronald said. "He said it smelled very clean, very fresh, just overwhelming."
"Hmmm," Stinson said, finding that interesting but knowing he couldn't very well print something like that in a family newspaper. "Intriguing, and slightly arousing, but not concrete. Do you have any facts that can put these two together other than the two meals and the robe? I mean, for all we know this Brody broad was in her room and Kingsley was getting it on with some cheap whore."