Page 45 of My Dead Wife's Ex Will Do
“It feels weird to talk about Leah while we’re…” He drops his head but pushes his hips forward, his dick still in my hand.
“She was your wife for a long time, Jason, and my best friend. I like talking about her.”
“I don’t know how she’d feel about what we’re doing.”
“Well, if she were here to ask, we wouldn’t be doing it.”
“That’s for sure,” Jason says on an exhale that stirs the fine hairs on my forearm.
There’s a long silence before Jason says, “Is that what you are? A bossy bottom?”
“Close enough,” I tell him. “I’m not all that submissive, though, and I’m not very active in the scene.”
“You’re not submissive, huh?” Jason disentangles my hand from his swim trunks and stands. “What if I told you to lie back and keep still while I had my way with you?”
A hot spike of arousal jolts through me. “I could submit to that.”
He catches my chin in a tight grip and lifts it so I’m looking up at him. “What if I spanked you until you cried and then fucked you?”
I swallow hard and shiver. “I don’t know that a spanking would make me cry but you’re welcome to try.”
He lets go of my chin and puts a hand in the center of my chest. He pushes until I fall back and he knees up on the bed. His erection tents his swim trunks and he swings one leg over my thighs to straddle me.
And then he slides his hand up my side and grabs my wrist in a hard grip. “What if I tied you down so that you were at my mercy?”
I’ve been hard pretty much since I got undressed and I’m starting to wonder if he might tease me until I cry. “Would you have mercy on me?”
He chuckles and leans down to hover over me, his lips barely grazing mine. “I don’t know. What would mercy look like in that scenario?”
I’m breathing hard now and my skin is itching for him to do something. Spank me, stroke me, touch me. Somehow. Anyhow. “Jason, please.”
“Please what?”
“Pick something and do it to me. Please.”
He clicks his tongue. “So impatient. I thought you said you weren’t all that submissive. But here you are, begging me to do something to you.”
“I also agreed that I’m bossy. Pick something before I pick something for you to do to me.”
He lifts himself off me and stands at the end of the bed. “By all means, you pick.”
He pulls his T-shirt over his head and folds it, then lays it on the dresser. He slides his swim trunks down, steps out of them, and folds them atop his T-shirt. When he turns around, his dick juts up from a nest of black curls. His hands hang loosely at his sides and he’s got a glint in his eyes like he’s waiting for me to decide how I want to debauch myself.
Twenty-Two
Jason
Victor’s eyes dart between my face and my cock and I feel a spark of something long buried wake up. Victor has the same expression on his face that Leah used to have when we played games like this. A little dazed, a little cautious, a little hopeful.
Something wells up in me and I remember this feeling. The headiness of it. I want more. I want.
Not just sex, though my cock is hard and aching.
I want that feeling of power I used to find sometimes with Leah. Like I owned the world because she gave a measure of control up to me. I never abused it. I’ve seen too much of how thin the line between control and abuse can be.
But there is a line there, a clear demarcation between taking control when willingly offered and taking over someone’s own will. Victor looks like he’s familiar with that line, too, and willing to give it up to me.
“Well?” I say and I ratchet up the level of firmness in my voice. God, it’s been so long since I’ve done this. I hope I don’t fuck it up.
