story code: MF

Release the Beast
by Norajane Nichols©


Emma's cell phone rang just as she took her first sip of chardonnay. Picking up her
glass, she trailed through the living room and found the phone on the table near the
window. She glanced at the name on the screen and picked up the call, smiling to
herself as she sat down. He was late.

"Hey, Jackson."

"Princess! I'm sorry I'm running late tonight. But I'm in the car now and will be there with
you before you know it."

"No worries. I just got home myself and could use the extra time," assured Emma.
Maybe she could clean up a little now. A shower sounded good too.

"Miss me, Princess?" he teased.

"I've been thinking about you all day," she replied. And she had been. Every time she
used the bathroom she felt the sore places between her legs. And she could have
sworn some of his cum was still leaking onto her panties.

"Is that right?" chuckled Jackson. "I've been thinking about you too, as a matter of fact."

"Do tell..."

"On the way to work this morning, I was thinking about your rosy nipples and how tight
they felt in my mouth last night, full and ripe between my teeth," he murmured into her
ear.

"Must have been an interesting drive," she laughed, feeling those same nipples tingling
now. Rosy nipples. Ripe and full. Oh yes. "Good thing you didn't rear-end anyone."

"Right now, I'm remembering you writhing naked on my bed as I fucked your wide open
pussy. You liked that, didn't you, Princess? "

Blushing even though he couldn't see her, she squirmed a little on the chair. Bastard.
He had had her screaming his name and begging him to fuck her harder last night. He
knew. He just wanted to hear her say it.

"You know I liked it, Jackson," she breathed into the phone. "Very much."

He heard the soft catch in her voice. Good. "Will you do something for me, darlin'?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"When you hang up the phone, I want you to strip off every little thing you're wearing and
get into that bed again. While you're waiting for me, think about what you might want me
to do when I get there. Will you do that for me?"

Emma shivered. Her cowboy was in one of his playful moods. Well, he kinda always
was. So endearing.

"Does it have to be right after I hang up the phone?" she hesitated. All this talk of
nipples and wet pussies had her going, but she still thought longingly of the shower.

"Right after. I want to know you're getting ready for me," Jackson answered firmly. He
knew Emma could never say no to him when he used that tone with her. Hell, she was
probably already wet. Wet Emma. His wet Emma.

"All right," she replied. "I'll be waiting. Naked. But I may have to start without you if you
take too long," she teased.

"I'm hoping you will," he told her and clicked the phone off, pressing harder against the
accelerator. Damned traffic, slowing him down. Keeping him from her wet pussy.

Jackson had such a dirty mind. She loved that about him. Thank god the big Texan had
planted himself on the barstool in the Pour House one night and flirted shamelessly
with her and her friend Sarah. His tacky Hawaiian shirt clashed with his khaki shorts
and his dirty blonde hair was a little too long for her tastes. But he had a devilish look in
those blue eyes and, oh my, was he charming! Sure, he was full of shit, too, but he
bought them drinks and made both girls laugh with his stories until they were in tears.
After last call, Jackson had walked Emma around the corner and cradled her in his
arms on someone's front porch, rubbing her arms and shoulders as they talked into
the morning.

"I'm not messin' with ya darlin'," he had said that night. Emma hadn't been sure
whether to believe him right then. It hadn't really mattered. She liked how his strong
arms felt cozy around her; she liked his Dallas boy accent, and he wasn't trying to stick
his tongue down her throat. She thought she just might want to fuck him after all.
Famous last words.

Abandoning all thoughts of a shower, washing dishes or doing anything about the
clutter on the dining room table, Emma wandered up the stairs into the bedroom. The
sky had darkened already, but the loft was full of skylights and windows which reflected
the silvery-violet glow from the streetlights. She slipped off her shoes and skirt and
padded barefoot to the bookcase in search of the matches she was sure she had left
there. She lit two of her favorite oil lamps and the cinnamon candle.

Emma walked to the bed and unbuttoned her blouse, catching her reflection in the
full-length mirror in the corner. Jackson liked to grab her from behind as she stood in
front of that mirror, wrapping his strong arms around her curves and holding her close.
He liked to catch her eye and hold her gaze as he kissed the arch of her neck and
nibbled her shoulders while his hands roamed along her ribcage, over her hips,
between her legs. He liked it even better when she leaned against him and pushed her
ass against his hardening dick, wriggling and grinding as he held her to him until they
both stumbled and fell onto the floor.

Her favorite mirror was the one above the dresser, though. There, she could bend over
and rest her hands on the smooth top as he slid slowly and firmly into her from behind,
watching her face the whole time and whispering into her ear, telling her how much he
liked fucking his dirty slut. Or she could hold on tightly to the wooden edge and dare to
peek into her own hungry eyes as he thrust his cock into her relentlessly, gripping and
squeezing her plump ass in his warm hands before landing a stinging slap. Emma
drank deeply from her glass and set it on the bed table with a click. She slipped off her
panties and bra and lowered herself into the down pillows. Inhaling, she closed her
eyes and stretched. Ankles together and knees splayed, she lay on the soft sheets and
gently, very gently, placed her finger above her clit and held it there, hovering,
maddeningly present, barely touching. She stroked the soft skin under her breast and
sighed. The light touch of her cool fingers sent shivers through her nipples.

She smiled to herself, remembering the day Jackson had asked her if she had ever
had a nipple orgasm. Had one? Had she even heard of one? Not yet, Emma had
replied then. She had no idea that from that day forward, Jackson would make it his
personal mission to give her one. Not that she was complaining or anything. Her
nipples did seem to share a party line with her clit, so she was more than happy to take
the call.

Emma cupped her breast and reached to flick and roll her nipple. Did her clit rise up to
meet her finger? Or did her finger press down and begin to circle slowly, softly? She
dipped her finger between her swollen lips and returned it quickly to her clit, slick and
wet. Rubbing steadily now, she pinched her nipple hard, and then harder, and
remembered Jackson's first attempt at nipple orgasm. He had held her squirming and
giggling on the couch, refusing to take his mouth and hands from her tits despite her
feeble protests that it just wasn't going to happen. His ferocious nips and nibbles and
sucks had made her wet in no time, but still. It wasn't going to happen.

And then, suddenly, he had just stopped. Before Emma knew what was happening,
Jackson had fastened her bra and buttoned her blouse. They were out the door and
halfway to the restaurant by the time her head had completely cleared. Damn him. She
had been sure she was going to get some kind of orgasm, if not completely through
her nipples. But he wanted to make her wait.

Emma's breathing quickened as her fingers worked on her body, sending her deeper
into her thoughts. Her pussy was swollen now, her lips spreading and sticky. Just like it
had been then. Jackson had leaned across the table after the waiter brought their
drinks and calmly asked her if she was still wet. He knew it drove her crazy when he did
that. And he kept it up all through dinner, teasing her mercilessly and promising he'd
take care of her when they returned home.

Stirring restelssly, Emma plunged her fingers into her pussy again and spread the
sloppy wetness over her lips and onto the soft skin of her inner thighs. She slid her
finger around her clit urgently, pressing harder now.

Jackson had made good on his promise, yes he had. Her cunt had been so wet with
anticipation by the time they got home, that he had no trouble lowering her onto his
hard, straining dick as he sat on the couch. He pushed her hips down and made her
take all of his length at once, stretching her deeply. He had immediately renewed his
determined assault on her aching nipples as she rode his cock, feeling the heat
radiating through her body as he filled her. Jackson's lips and tongue had sucked her
ravenously, pausing only to nibble or bite, until she had finally collapsed against him,
gasping.

She sank deeper into the pillows as her fingers flew rapidly around her nipples and clit.
She stroked steadily, quickly, all thoughts focused on one little pulsing orb and the
wave building beneath it. Her body stiffened and rose slightly off the bed as her cunt
throbbed unbearably, cresting the wave and ebbing deliciously with each beat. A moan
finally eased from her lips as the hot ripples reached her toes and her body melted.

"That was beautiful, Princess."

Her eyes flew open. "Jackson! How long have you been there?"

Jackson stepped away from the railing he had been leaning on while watching her on
the bed. Smiling, he loosened his tie and pulled it from around his neck. He walked
over to Emma and ran his hand along her hot cheek. "Excellent timing, too," he
whispered.

Emma started to rise, but he pushed her back against the pillows and reached for her
wrists. Pulling them above her head, he tied them together loosely with his tie and
fastened them to the spindles in the headboard. Her cowboy was home.

"No need to get up, Emma," he told her quietly, looking into her eyes as he touched his
lips to her nose.

She laughed helplessly, maybe a little nervously. He kept glancing back at her as he
undressed, just to make sure she hadn't freed herself. Ha. As if she would try. No, he
had her right where he wanted her and that was right where she wanted to be.

Swiftly, Jackson climbed onto the bed and straddled her body, knees at her head. His
dick had stiffened as soon as he had made it up the stairs and spotted her stroking
herself. Who could resist that sight? Who would want to? He wasted no more time and
began rubbing the head of his dick over her face, smearing the drops that oozed from
the tip. Lifting himself slightly above her, he touched his balls to her lips.

"Take me into your mouth, Princess. Suck me."

Jackson groaned quietly as he felt her hot breath first and then her wet tongue on his
skin. She licked him gently at first, then sucked him into her mouth, swirling her tongue
around his sac. Trapped beneath him and with her arms twisting uselessly above her
head, she really could do nothing else. She sucked a little harder, slurping and
drooling a little, and rolled her tongue rapidly over her demanding cowboy, careful not to
hurt him as he trusted her with his softest place.

"Oh, you have the sweetest mouth, darlin'. You've got me so close. Do you want to feel
my cum streaming into your mouth? Do you want me to empty my balls down your
throat?"

Her cunt twitched in response to his questions. She imagined the salty taste of his hot
cum pouring onto her tongue and a deep groan erupted from her lips and vibrated
around Jackson's balls and through his body. Repositioning himself, he pressed the
dark, swollen head of his cock against her wet lips. She opened her mouth wide for
him as he reached behind her head and buried his hand in her long hair.

"Are you ready for me, Emma?"

She looked into her cowboy's eyes and nodded, wrapping her red lips tightly around his
shaft. He pushed himself into her mouth and bumped against the back of her throat.
He held her head there for a second and then withdrew, only to slide quickly back into
her warmth a moment later, gagging her slightly when his cock hit her throat.

It drove Jackson wild to see the way her eyes widened and watered each time he
reached her limit. He pumped in and out enjoying the tears streaming down her face
and the slight panic in her eyes. He had to slow himself down to keep from forcing his
dick in all the way to his tight balls and draining them into her throat with a growl.

Releasing her head, he pulled out, allowing her to catch her breath and to cool off a
little himself. He rubbed his wet dick along her face again, first one side and then the
other and across her bruised lips before plunging back into her hot mouth. He thrust as
hard as he dared, as deeply as she'd allow, then even deeper than that, watching her
lips stretched wide around him clinging wetly to his shaft as she swallowed his wide
cockhead. Holding firmly to her head, he increased his pace, mesmerized by the sight
of his lovely wife beneath him as he fucked her face.

"You look beautiful with your mouth full, darlin'."

The look in her eyes as he used her roughly sent him over the edge. Tightening his grip
on her hair, he tugged her head back sharply. He directed his cock at her face as cum
the boiled up from his balls and sprayed over her lips. Grunting heavily as each stream
landed on her cheeks, her nose, the hollow in her throat, Jackson finally leaned back
and shut his eyes. His breathing slowed.

Emma smiled up at him when he looked at her again and leaned forward for a closer
inspection of her flushed, streaked face and glazed eyes. Gently, he brushed the damp
hair from her forehead.

"You are a filthy cocksucking slut."

She laughed and glanced at her cowboy's soft dripping prick. "You say that like it's a
bad thing."

"Oh, it's bad," he said, releasing her wrists and snuggling down next to her. He rained
small kisses on her wet face and tweaked a nipple. "Very bad, Princess. I just might
have to punish you now."
Release the Beast