Chapter 5: Jane's dress pools at her feet as she presents herself naked to Bob, her nipples hardening under his gaze. 'I want to try again,' she whispers, dropping to her knees with newfound determination, her mouth watering at the thought of conquering that thick, veined shaft.
Bob’s hand remained under her chin, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. “Stand up, sweetheart,” he repeated, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.
Jane’s legs felt insubstantial, but she placed her palms on her thighs and pushed herself up, the coarse hotel carpet imprinting a pattern on her knees. She stood before him, dwarfed by his frame, acutely aware of Will moving to the foot of the bed, his phone’s camera a silent, cyclopean eye. The air conditioner rattled, a monotonous counterpoint to the frantic beat of her heart.
“Show us,” Will said, his voice tight with anticipation. “Show him what you’ve got, Jane.”
Her fingers, cold and clumsy, found the first button of her summer dress. The simple act of undressing felt monumental, a ritual stripping away of the ordinary woman who’d eaten salad for lunch and worried about her hydrangeas. The fabric fell open. She shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She stood in only her lace bra, her matching black thong, and her heels.
Bob’s gaze was a physical weight, traveling over her body with a slow, appraising heat. “Very nice,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “Turn around. Let me see all of you.”
She obeyed, rotating slowly, feeling the chill of the air on her skin. She heard the wet sound of Bob spitting into his palm, the soft stroke of his hand on his cock.
“Take the rest off,” Will instructed, the director of this private film.
She reached back, unfastened the bra clasp, and let her breasts fall free. They were fuller than a young woman’s, but still high, the nipples tight and dark from a mix of cold and thrilling exposure. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thong and pushed it down her hips, stepping out of it. Now she was utterly bare, save for the heels. The shaved skin of her pubis felt ultrasensitive, exposed to the stagnant room air.
“Come here,” Bob said.
She turned to face him. He hadn’t moved. He just sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread, his enormous cock jutting upward like a mast. He patted the space on the carpet between his feet. “Right here. On your knees again. Let’s see what that determined little mouth can really do.”
This time, her descent was deliberate. This was no stumble. She knelt, the hard floor a familiar penance. Up close, the sheer scale of him was重新 daunting. It glistened with her earlier saliva and his own pre-cum, a viscous pearl forming at the slit.
“Look at me,” Bob commanded.
She lifted her eyes to his. His face was all hard lines and focused intensity. This was a man used to command, to seeing a task through.
“You want to take it deeper,” he stated. “I can see it in you. That hunger. That need to prove you can. So here’s how we do it. When you feel it in your throat, you don’t pull back. You breathe out. A slow, steady breath. And you relax. You let it in. You understand?”
Jane nodded, a quick jerk of her head. She loves deep throating Will, so she should be able to do this!
“Use your hands. On me. On yourself. I don’t care. Just get used to the feel of it.”
She wrapped one hand around the base, her fingers still failing to meet. The heat was incredible. With the other, she tentatively touched her own nipple, pinching it, the sharp sensation grounding her. Then she leaned in.
She took the head back into her mouth, sucking firmly, establishing the rhythm. Saliva gathered, making everything slick. Bob’s hand returned to the back of her head, not forcing, but a steady, guiding presence.
“Now,” he said, his voice a low growl.
He pushed his hips forward. Jane focused on the feeling of the thick head pushing past the barrier of her lips, over her tongue. The stretch was immediate, a burning ache in her jaw hinges. She focused on his instructions. As the pressure built at the back of her throat, triggering the gag reflex, she let out a shaky, nasal exhale.
And she relaxed her throat.
The head popped into her gullet. The sensation was profound, a deep, full invasion. A guttural, choking sound vibrated around him, but she didn’t pull back. She held, her eyes watering profusively, her nostrils flaring for air. She had taken maybe four inches. It felt like a mile.
“Fuck yeah,” Will breathed from behind the camera. “Look at that. Look at her take it.”
Bob’s breath hitched. “Good girl. Christ, that’s a good mouth. Now suck. Use your throat.”
Jane tried. The motion was familiar, only larger a clenching deep inside her neck. She pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, taking that same shocking depth. The sounds were obscene, wet gulps and gags and labored breathing. Spit dripped from her chin onto his balls, onto the carpet.
Her own arousal was a live wire, sizzling between her legs. She was soaked, an embarrassing, hungry slickness that had nothing to do with tenderness and everything to do with raw, blasphemous size. She moved her hand from her breast down her stomach, across her cleanly shaved pubis, and found her clit. It was throbbing, swollen. The touch was electric. She moaned around the cock in her throat, the vibration drawing a sharp curse from Bob.
“She’s playing with her pussy while she sucks you,” Will narrated, his voice husky. “She’s dripping for it. You should see her.”
Bob’s hand tightened in her hair. “You like that, don’t you? Choking on a real cock. Making a mess while your husband watches.”
She nodded frantically, the movement causing him to slide even deeper for a second. She saw stars, her vision speckling. She pulled back, gasping, a long string of saliva and pre-cum connecting her lips to his glistening shaft. She panted, her chest heaving.
“I… I want more,” she choked out, the words raw.
Bob’s eyes blazed. “Then take it. Stop thinking. Just fucking take it.”
He guided her head back down. This time, she didn’t wait. She opened her throat and drove herself forward, taking him deeper than she thought possible. The ridge of his head lodged firmly in her esophagus. The stretch was overwhelming, a mix of pain and breathtaking conquest. Tears streamed down her face, her makeup smearing. Her nose pressed into the coarse grey hair at his base. The musky, salty scent of him filled her sinuses.
She held there, impaled on his flesh, her body shaking with the effort. Her fingers worked furiously on her clit, a frantic, circling motion that was bringing her rapidly to the edge.
Will was close now, kneeling beside them, the phone capturing every strained detail of her face. “You’re taking it, baby. You’re taking that whole monster. Look at you. You’re a fucking masterpiece.”
Bob began to fuck her mouth in earnest, not with long strokes, but with shallow, brutal thrusts that kept his cockhead buried in her throat. The rhythm was punishing, glorious. Gagging sounds erupted from her with each inward push, but she held on, her body spasming, her pleasure coiling impossibly tight.
“I’m gonna come,” Bob grunted, the first sign of lost control she’d heard in his voice. “You gonna swallow it all? Every fucking drop?”
She made a desperate, affirmative sound around him.
His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming jerky, frantic. With a final, deep grind of his pelvis against her face, he held her there. She felt the first hot, pulsing jet shot down the back of her throat. It was bitter, thick. She swallowed convulsively, taking the second, the third. It seemed to go on forever, filling her mouth, coating her tongue. She swallowed and swallowed until he was spent.
Only then did he let her pull back. She collapsed onto her heels, coughing, her mouth a wreck of spit and semen. She gasped for clean air, her body trembling violently. The orgasm that had been building in her own core had receded, overwhelmed by the physical ordeal, but the need was still there, sharper than ever, an ache deep in her belly.
Bob looked down at her, his expression one of savage satisfaction. He ran a thumb over her bruised, wet lips. “Out-fucking-standing.”
Will lowered the phone. He was rock hard, the outline clear against his trousers. He looked at Jane, at the complete wreck of her, and his face held a pride so profound it bordered on reverence. “You were incredible,” he said, his voice thick.
Jane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her breathing slowly settling. She looked from her husband’s awestruck face to Bob’s massive, softening cock, still glistening from her efforts. The taste of him was embedded in her. The brutal stretch of her jaw was a satisfying pain.
The initial task was done. The implicit, terrifying question now hung in the air, thicker than the smell of sex and cheap cologne.
She slowly rose to her feet, her legs steady now, a strange certainty settling in her bones. She didn’t look at Will for permission. She dropped to her knees in front of Will. She saw his rock hard cock in his jean. She wanted to pleasure him just like she had Bob. Sure she had deep throated Will hundreds of time, this time it was in front of someone else.