Life of Paul Ch. 03: Jessica

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Amateur

All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentionally.

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April 2019

The frantic pace of thrusting into this lovey, petite ass was building my orgasm fast and hard. Her vulgarities, usually loud and descriptive, were reduced to ‘oohs’ and ‘aahhh’ at my efforts. I had felt her cum at least once; her lips contracting around my cock almost to the point of pain, fluids escaping her pussy in rivers.

Continuing pumping my long and thick cock, her breasts were bouncing back and forth under her cut off t-shirt. As encouragement, she lifted up her shirt, revealing a large, firm breast with a tiny pink nipple. She started pinching and tweaking at it violently, rumbling in her throat at the pleasure. This spurred me on and with a few more thrusts, I peaked and came inside her, hard.

Glorious spasms lasting what felt like forever pulsed into her petite pussy. Her nipple abuse and my cumming caused a final orgasm to fire off for her, the tightness squeezing my cock pleasantly, not nearly as hard as her last one. We stayed in our union a few moments until we came down, breathing hard and fast. She stabilized herself on the back of the couch, arms wide to steady her. My ‘office slut’ was holding her hand, smiling and looking quite pleased at watching us.

I withdrew my diminishing member with a slight pop, a mix of our juices falling from her lips and onto the floor. She arched her back slightly, moving her other hand to her sex and gently rubbed her folds in circular motions, forcing more fluid out of her pussy and down her leg. It was a beautiful sight.

Temporarily spent, I needed to recharge a bit. Normally this involved a nice titty fuck and a hot mouth, but right now my desire lead me in another direction.

Walking quickly past the second ass, eliciting a wanting moan from slapping it firmly as I passed by, I stopped in front of the first ass that presented itself in this most awesome of line-ups. Discarding the rest of my clothes, I stood behind her and kneaded her ass cheeks, massaging the round perfection as best I could, loving the shape and firmness as I remember how often this has gave me pleasure. I started planting kisses on her lower back, moving to her tail bone, down both cheeks, finally arriving at her hot, musky sex. The smell of her drove me on as I parted her ass to allow for access.

With my tongue sufficiently moist, I started with one long, slow, full tongue stroke from her clit to her hole. I plunged my tongue into her causing satisfied sounds to escape her open mouth. Working back to her clit and between her folds in small circles, she force herself back onto my face, trying to make me go deeper. I pulled back slightly to keep even pressure on her clit, annoying her and pleasuring her all at the same time. It was torture for her I knew, but she’s tortured me more than once in the same manner. Taking my cue she relaxed, resigned to the fact that she’d have to be content with me making this last as long as possible…

#

August 2008

Walking around in NW Portlands shopping blocks, I entered a nondescript store with fully drawn curtains on the windows, with the simple name ‘Debonair’ on the windows. Walk-ins were not common as all clients made appointments through the website or through referral. Such was expected from a high end boudoir photography studio. But being the owner, I could walk in if I wanted to. So there.

“Hi Paul,” Sammy said brightly, “how tricks?”

Sammy was flamboyant as all get out and I could never really tell if he was naturally happy or just high. I tended toward the former. “Hey Sammy, things are fine. I was seeing if Lunita was in.” The primary photographer and manager was imposing as a boss (to hear Sammy tell it), but understanding and gentle when it came to encouraging ladies to present their sexiest selves for her camera.

Sammy waved behind him. “She’s with a client but she’s almost done.” He dropped his voice conspiratorially. “Have you come to fire her? Cause if you need someone to take over I am totally capable and totally willing to…”

“No Sam,” I interrupted, “and for the last time I am not making you a manager just because your brother has an MBA. If anything, I’d make him a manager.” I walked off towards the store office. I heard a not so quiet ‘bitch’ from behind me. Sammy was such a good photographer that I generally ignored his tantrums. Usually. “Just like your boyfriend makes you nightly from what I hear,” I called behind me. I heard an overly dramatic inhale as I shut the door to the office.

I amused myself for the next few minutes looking at the public books of some of our clients. When a shoot comes out really good we often ask to use it as an example, to which most we ask say yes. It’s very fulfilling knowing that you are desired, which is mostly what this business ataşehir escort bayan is about. That, and sexy pictures for your partner. Always a bonus.

Lunita walked into the office as I was looking through Ambers book. It was usually the one I go for. She agreed to do a shoot for my new business venture and the images were amazing. She also did another one, but those were just for me for my last birthday. I keep that one in my bedside table.

“Hey,” I greeted her, “how’d the shoot go?”

“Great,” she said. “Pictures came out really well. She sorta just went with her own thing which was hot. She tore open a feather pillow and made it snow; a huge fucking mess but it was a great series. Oh, just a sec.” She opened the office door. “Sammy, clean up all the shit in the studio for the next client”. I started to hear a complaint but Lunita closed the door again.

I smiled at her attitude. “Anyways,” I started, “what is it you wanted to see me about?”

I was curious but not concerned. I paid extremely well and paid for benefits, which was new but welcome to my half dozen employees.

“We need to expand,” she started simply. “We are booked through the next five months only because there are two of us. We need at least another photographer. Two photographers would be preferred since I am also doing manager stuff more now. And another stylist would be needed so Shelly isn’t so overworked. What do you think?”

She had a point. Business was good and I wanted to continue to keep it going, so it didn’t take me long to decide.

“OK,” I said. “You wouldn’t have asked for another photographer unless you had someone in mind, so I’ll say yes to hiring them. As for the second and the additional stylist, we can interview. For now though, how about we put the word out for a gopher to help out with menial tasks. I enjoy making Sammy suffer and ruin his manicure as much as you do, but if he’s cleaning he’s not shooting, and thats not good.”

She contemplated this for a moment. “Agreed. I got a cousin who would be a good gopher. He’s just out of high school and his college admission is on hold until at least next year, so that would work out for now, and he could use the money. And yes, I have a photographer in mind. Pay would be equal to Sammy which is above normal anyways, so Im sure they’ll say yes.”

“Also,” I added, “I’ll see about getting an estimate to convert the upstairs to another studio. Maybe even two. We can sort out storage elsewhere.”

Her eyes almost lit up at this prospect. “Awesome. That was going to be the next thing I suggest. We can do types of themes and have a configurable room where we can simulate a balcony or other types of scenes. It’d mean more equipment too, but you know that, so I’ll assume you are down with that. Well,” she said, sitting in the chair opposite, “that was easier than I thought.”

I felt amused. “I am not a money grubbing monster you know. Expanding this place would be awesome for everyone. I understand growth is needed.”

She smiled, saying “In that case, how about you ‘grow’ my paycheck a bit?”

I got up to leave. “Eh, I’ve had enough growth for one day. I’ll let you know what the contractors say.” I closed the door behind me, hearing an oh so soft ‘ass’ as it shut.

#

I was making dinner that night for Amber and myself when a knock came at the front door. Amber left the kitchen to answer it and came back with Jessica in tow. It was surprising to see Jessica at my house for sure, but even more surprising by her non-business like attire. She was in jean shorts and an old t-shirt that had a way too wide neck cut in it, showing her tank top strap. She looked…fun would the word to use.

“Hey,” she said nervously, “sorry to drop in like this, but I needed some advice.” She noticed the wok of stir-fry and looked at us. “I can come back if I’m interrupting”.

Amber was first to respond. “No. Please stay and eat. Pauls a great cook and there’s enough for everyone.” Amber must have picked up on some vibe already because she was going out of her way to be welcoming.

Jessica visibly relaxed. “That sounds great, thank you,” she said, taking a seat next to Amber at the island.

I grabbed an extra plate and started serving. “No worries. We’ll eat, grab a bottle of whiskey, and you can tell us your problems while we roast marshmallows.” I tipped a generous portion into Jessica’s bowl. “But eat first. I’m told by many that I make a divine stir fry.”

“He’s only told that by me,” Amber scoffed, “but it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Jessica smirked as we all dug into our meal.

#

Jessica reached for another marshmallow as she finished her story.

“OK. So let me sum up then,” I started. I wanted to make sure I had everything straight before offering any help or advice. “You lost most of your savings due to this sub-prime mortgage crap. Your financial investor was murdered and his firm went under due escort kadıköy to laundering money for the mob, so there is no lawsuit possible. The rest of your savings went to your family to help them keep their home, also due to this mortgage stuff. And lastly, your apartment is being torn down in less than a month.” It sounded like a lot, cause it was.

“That sums it up,” said Jessica. “Its a short list, but you know me; quality over quantity.” She continued to stare into the fire pit, marshmallow burning to a crisp.

My own investment manager touted the wonders of sub-prime mortgages. I thought it more of an elaborate shell game, so I didn’t invest. That this affected Jessica so much was worrisome and I didn’t want to see her struggle. I paid her well enough, but it would take a fair amount of time to recover from such a hit. And doing so without a home made it even more difficult.

I was about to ask her about an idea, but Amber beat me to it. “You can stay here,” she offered without hesitation. “We have plenty of room and it’d be nice to have a woman to talk to. Besides Paul of course.” Her smile made me almost not plot some sort of revenger against her for that remark. Almost.

Jessica was taken aback. “Wow,” she said, “thats generous, really, and I appreciate it, but it’d be kinda weird though, wouldn’t it? I mean, Paul, you aren’t a tyrant boss or anything…”

“Try taking the covers away from him,” Amber interjected while eating a marshmallow.

Jessica continued, “but you are my boss technically, so staying in your house would be sort of weird, right?”

I thought about this for a second. Yes, it could be sort of weird, seeing her at home and at the shop, likely seeing her in more of this state of relaxed dress and easier going attitude. But it would also help her as well, and she’s been a good friend and great businesswoman for years now.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with it,” I began, “and if it would help you out I’d be more than willing.”

She smiled fully, wide and bright. The expression a beautiful one to take in. “I…I want to. It would solve a lot of problems for me personally, but it might create some too.”

“How about this; you want to separate work from home, we can do that. The basement used to be its own apartment. Plumbing and services are still there so I could expand the kitchenette into a full kitchen wall for you. There is already an outside door so all it would take is to block off the door upstairs and you’d be in your own world. With at least one annoying and noisy upstairs neighbor.” I glanced in Ambers direction.

“Yes,” Amber agreed, turning to Jessica, “don’t let the cries of ‘Yes mistress Amber I’ll be a good little boy’ turn you off to the idea of staying here”. She glanced back at me, challenge in her smirk.

I surrendered, knowing I was beat.

Jessica didn’t seem to mind the banter. “OK,” she said, “I’ll take you up on your offer. And you don’t have to change your whole house around or anything for me. I can manage with it as is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “The kitchen part is easy, and it can be done quickly. We’ll worry about the rest later.”

Amber jumped up, throwing her stick in the fire. “Great. Come on, Paul’ll put out the fire while I show you to your new place.” She motioned Jessica inside before her. Amber stopped by my chair on her way inside.

“As for you,” she grabbed by chin and kissed me hard. In her low, husky voice she said “I am going to destroy that cock later, and then we’ll see who screams more.”

I kissed her back. “You will, when I destroy that ass tonight.”

Amber smiled and went off to show Jessica her rooms.

#

A few weeks after Jessica moved in things seemed to be working out OK for her and Amber and me. I usually had a class or a demo I attended during the daytime (I liked learning stuff even if I wouldn’t use it everyday) and was often gone. Amber had her volunteering at animal shelters and her part time job at the motorcycle shop (on the sales floor of course) so she was out much of the time as well. The only time we were all home was at night and most nights I didn’t see Jessica. Amber occasionally went to visit her in Jessicas basement apartment to watch ‘chick flicks’ on her plasma tv, but she rarely came upstairs.

On a particularly sunny Wednesday morning I walked into the shop to check over orders and do my usual little-as-possible boss stuff. The shop was closed for a week while the contractors finished the remodel of the fitting studios and I wanted to see how they did. I gave Jessica free reign on the design choices, and pretty much the whole project, and was curious what she decided.

Entering through the back I saw Jessica at the desk in the office. “Hey,” I said, “how’d the studios turn out?”

She finished a text message on her smartphone (I got them for all the employees as a thank you, and because they were stinking awesome) and looked up. She seemed bostancı escort nervous or pensive but hid it with a smile. “Hi,” she said, “I think it turned out great. Customers will really love it. Let me show you.” She lead the way to the closest studio. Her hair was up and tight as normally I’d seen it. She was wearing a floor length grey maxi-dress, heels I couldn’t quite see, and a business jacket in a darker grey. It seemed warm for the day but I know nothing of fashion so I put it aside.

She led me to the studio and waved me in. The first thing that I saw was the stage. Well, stage wasn’t correct, but it definitely looked like a short catwalk leading from the center changing booth. The medallion in the center of the ceiling was also new and looks slightly protruding from the ceiling, several dark holes in it. The rest of the studio looks mostly the same, save for the wallpaper, which was now a white and brick colored vertical stripes.

Jessica took a breath as if to give a speech. “Since these rooms are used by groups of people, and those people like to show off for the group, what better way to do that than in a fashion show atmosphere.” She stepped onto the tiny stage. “The medallion is also a spotlight that lights the entire runway, so no controls needed. Also the other lights are dimmable and customers can bring their own music devices to plug into the aux jack on the control by the table.” She stepped down and plugged in her smartphone to the jack. “Here, I’ll demo.”

“Super,” I said with overtly enthusiasm, “did you load up Right Said Fred?”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I totally did…Not!” She walked back towards the center changing room. “Hit play and the first lighting control,” she told me as she closed the door.

I walked over and hit play. The lighting switch automatically dimmed the surrounding sconces and cast a warm spotlight on the runway. I resumed my seat just as the music started. My smartphone buzzed but the music distracted me from it.

The song had a lot of faint bongos and strings, and sounded middle eastern with a slow tempo. My interest was piqued at this choice for a demo when the changing room door opened.

Jessica stepped onto the runway in something much less than her maxi dress. Her auburn hair was down and cascaded in waves around her face and right shoulder, covering the right side of her face. She walked down the catwalk slowly, sensually, looking into my eyes the entire time, hips swaying with each step. She stopped at the end turned a complete revolution, showing me the entirety of her form. She wore on a teddy with a nude colored diaphanous material on the front and back that exposed the middle of her breasts, belly button, and the top of her smooth, hairless vulva. The sides and cap sleeves we made of black lace and just as translucent, only slightly obscuring her areolas and nipples. Her legs were long, lean, and ended in black heels that made no sound on the carpet floor. She was a vision, and I had no idea how I didn’t see her before.

She smiled, warm and wide in her spotlight. I think mostly because of her own sense of power up there, captivating the attention of her audience of one. Partially, I also think, because my jaw dropped right through the floor when she stepped out.

Hands on her hips, she stepped down from the runway and approached me. Her movements were slow and calculated, making the few steps between us stretch for miles. She reached out and, with a soft, delicate hand, closed my mouth, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed. “I…you…you’re so…wow” Master of flattery, thats me.

She stood up fully, her breasts high, full, and firm on display in front of me. “I know what you mean. And thank you.” She looked at my pants. “Did you check your phone? It might be important.”

It took me about an hour to comprehend what she was saying, but eventually I pulled out my smartphone. It had one new message, and it was short.

Amber: I give you permission. You can tell me about it tonight while I ride you silly. 🙂

I looked back to Jessica, who was smiling, no shortage of humor in her eyes. She slowly, oh so slowly, bent down to sit on my lap. I dropped my phone on the sofa and instinctively wrapped my arms around her middle, the feel of the fabric was like touching air warmed by her skin. She stared into my eyes for a while before speaking.

“Amber and I had a long talk,” she said, “a lot of long talks over the last few weeks. It made me realize some things and she helped me sort out how I felt about things. Particularly, things between us.” She shifted slightly, putting both of her legs over both of mine.

“I knew you and Amber were together and I didn’t want to risk that. And, if I’m being honest, I was a bit of a coward the last few years by not making my feelings known. So I want to make them known now.” Delicately, she kissed me. And kissed me again. The third kiss was more forceful and I started kissing back, our tongues experimenting with each other.

“I am not trying to get in the way,” she said, “so I will stop now if you think it would be a disaster. But Amber and I are OK with this, and judging by what is poking my leg, you’re OK with this too.”

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