Lon was right — she’d never trust him again — and he still had pictures — but she’d added significantly to the mess, and she was SUPPOSED to be an adult! "Okay. Now?"
"Might as well." Jean gave just okay head; he didn’t really think she was shorting him — Toby got off in her mouth, but it had been too quick for it to be superior technique. Lon withdrew and circled around.
Jean forestalled him as he climbed onto the couch. "Lon, would you use a rubber? Please?"
Lon frowned. "Toby didn’t."
Jean sighed. "I know it looks bad, but you’re right — I got carried away with him — twice. I’m on the Pill, but only for a couple of days — I’m sure that after this, you don’t REALLY want to father kids by me…"
Lon contrived to see the humor in this. "So, if you got a bun in the oven, it’s Superdick’s! Seeing how he is, how comfortable is THAT gonna be?"
Jean took the hit gracefully. "Not very, I’m afraid."
Lon chased down his shorts and dug in a pocket. "You put it on." He tossed a foil packet at her.
"Okay." It was the least she could do … She missed the catch, but it didn’t go far; there followed a delay while she fought the wrapper, then had to puzzle out which way it rolled.
Lon flinched as it grabbed at hairs at the base of his dick. "You ever do that before?"
"No." Jean admitted.
"Well, it sucks, I can tell you! Everyone will be happier when your pills take! Lie back!" He crawled up between her spread thighs, and the pair discovered the other drawbacks to rubbers — friction and attenuation. Jean had been fairly damp, having gotten past the rape issue and having had quite a bit of clitoral stimulation — but the rubber wanted to snag, anyway, and Lon could CERTAINLY tell the difference! "Well, THIS sucks!" he grunted.
Jean could only agree. "Sorry!"
"I don’t see how either one of us is gonna get any fun out of this shit!" Lon groused.
"It’s good experience for you…" Jean ventured tentatively, grimacing as Lon continued to try to fight his way into her.
"Shit. If a woman wants to fuck me, she’d better be on birth control!" Lon railed.
"There are diseases, too…" Jean pointed out, but her face was strained. Toby was working her out, certainly, but she DID shrink back — and Lon was sizeable, too! It was rubbing her raw…
"Maybe — but YOU don’t have any!" Lon pulled back, grimaced as he pulled off the damned thing, and moved to re-seat himself.
Jean fought him, "Lon!"
"I’ll pull out and squirt on your belly, okay? That thing SUCKS!" Lon argued.
"Okay," Jean subsided. She wasn’t happy, but she agreed with Lon — rubbers sucked!
The difference was night and day — for both of them. Lon slid right in, assisted by his foreskin, which buffered his passage. Jean didn’t say much because she didn’t want to admit it, but it WAS good. At this point, the question became How long before Lon figures that out? Jean really didn’t want Lon to decide that he wanted a re-match at some point if she could get away with it…
Lon helped her case in that he wasn’t looking THAT hard to see whether Jean was enjoying the fuck or not — he was concentrating on getting his own nut, and FUCK her! But there WAS a certain amount of injured pride working in him, so when it became apparent that Jean’s pussy was a pleasant place to be and she wasn’t being a total bitch about things, he started working on getting her to admit that generic dick was as good as generic pussy.
Jean noticed the shift in things; Lon slowed down a bit and started trying things — getting at her clit wasn’t easy, but he worked it for a while, then shifted to her nipples, one at a time. Jean reacted despite herself; the rape mindset being largely defused, she had little to fall back on in the way of outrage or trauma to keep her from actually feeling what was going on. Her hips had started rolling automatically almost immediately, reacting to his strokes and ramming her most sensitive parts against his; she justified this by rationalizing that she couldn’t appear to be a totally dead lay or Lon would get pissed, having seen her with Toby. The facts were, however, that she probably couldn’t have stopped that reaction, anyway, once the act became pleasurable. The sex drive operates at a level below mind games; while it participates in them, it is usually the unconscious ones that get serviced, not the top layer of logical scheming. That’s how the species manages to propagate despite the fact that everyone has their own little needs and desires. Sex is a tool for some — but it tends to turn in the hand and work on the wielder as much as the target.
So Lon set out to make Jean cum, and Jean set out to make him fail, while maintaining the appearance of cooperation. The complexity of Jean’s goal made it the more difficult one to achieve — and Jean’s basic makeup made it impossible.
The most obvious problem was additional stimulation; she could stop him, or she could endure it. Stopping him was uncooperative, so … But endurance meant rising above the whole thing, and there was the basic act to be dealt with, too — so Jean let out a gasp when Lon started playing with her nipples, telling Lon all he needed to know about the effectiveness of the effort. At that point, she couldn’t get away; concentrating on damping the sparks from her nipples left her vulnerable to the sensations in her vagina and clitoris, and shifting her attention to putting a chill on them meant that her nipples resumed spiking.
Below that was the issue of instinct — and instinct was moving her pussy to the precise location where Lon’s cock would do the most good. While Jean could override that momentarily, if her attention shifted, instinct brought her back into alignment with the goal of a big, cum-sucking orgasm that would pull semen into her womb. This was reproduction 101 and it had a few million years of programming behind it — it required a conscious override. But Jean didn’t have the resources…
Lon had watched Toby work on Jean — and he knew her ass was an erogenous zone. So when she stopped overtly reacting to his manipulation of her nipples, he propped her legs across his upper arms and took another run at her clit — then, when she screwed up her face in an effort to handle that, he let the hand slip lower…
A fingertip sliding along the crack of her ass put Jean in a panic — but she was pinned in position, and wasn’t going anywhere. So she tensed — and her pussy clamped down on Lon’s cock, which was better for BOTH of them!
Things went downhill from there. Lon periodically tickled her little bung with a fingertip, and Jean responded by tightening up — and everything would go up a notch. Then Lon would shift targets, and she would try to put out the fire in her nipples or her clit and while she was doing that, he’d run a finger across her winking anus again. Pretty soon, there weren’t any notches left!
Lon was satisfied; Jean was as red as a beet from the top of her head to her nipples. She was gonna blow, and blow hard — soon! But Lon was ALSO excited, and he had to get out before he could cum … How was he gonna handle that?
Things were urgent, but Lon had a sudden inspiration! Reaching under and poising his finger on her bud again, he hissed, "I ought to fuck your ass!" He tickled the opening and Jean’s eyes popped — and everything pulsed, including her anus! Lon pressed forward as Jean’s anus flowered open and when the nibbling little mouth closed, he was in to the first joint!
Jean screamed! She seized up and everything let go, the power of her release augmented by her efforts to keep the whole thing from happening. Her vagina clutched Lon’s distended cock once, twice, three times — and Lon roared and lurched backwards to clear her twat before shooting gouts of cum all over her stomach and chest!