Chapter 11

While Jason handled the bellhop with my luggage, I slipped into the bathroom and stripped. Being with Jason again had jump-started my motor, so why waste time, I reasoned. When I heard the door close behind the bellhop, I ambled sexily - I hoped - from the bathroom, sidled up to Jason and kissed him, intending to curl his toes. Instead, he curled mine. I redoubled my efforts; he kicked his up a notch, and he won the curling-toes battle, hands down (roaming over my buns, just where I wanted them).

"Aren't you a bit overdressed?" I said as I unbuttoned his shirt. I ran my hands across his strong bare chest, and the feel of a powerful, masculine torso under my hands really revved up my engine. My college boy's hands roamed my body and smoothly shifted my libido into third gear without an audible grind, and we were off to the races.

While I fumbled with his belt, Jason leaned and covered one of my breasts with his mouth. He sucked, pulling the nipple into a hard, throbbing, little point, setting off a series of chilling tingles up and down my spine that settled in my creaming pussy. I moaned and clumsily tried to unbuckle his belt, finally succeeding about the time he moved his mouth to my other breast. I fumbled with the button and zipper and with a sigh of triumph wrapped my hand around his long, hard cock. The feel of it, hard and soft at the same time, hot and throbbing in my hand, thrilled me. My blood wasn't just warm anymore; it was hot and pulsed alarmingly in my veins.

I didn't force Jason to choose. I did the choosing, and after pushing his Dockers and shorts to his knees, I dropped to mine.

"Hmm," I said looking up at him as I cuddled his gorgeous cock against a cheek of my face. "I've been dying to do this since I saw you at the airport."

I pulled his shaft level with my mouth, leaned forward and licked around the crown, savoring his flavors. I swallowed as much of his length as I could while I wiggled my tongue back and forth over the large vein on the underside of his stalk. One hand held his shaft, and the other gently cupped his heavy balls as if they were precious. For me, they were. They were the parts department for my future children.

He moaned with passion and his hands went to my head. Glancing up, I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, and his expression broadcast the pleasure he was feeling - the same pleasure flowed from him to me. I adored his rugged features, even foreshortened as they were. My man, handsome and strong, my college boy. My lover. And I had his wonderful cock in my mouth again. I shivered just with the thought of it, but he also shared the sensations my mouth gave him. They were exquisite, so I bobbed my head enhancing the blissful feelings, appropriating them, enjoying them myself as I bestowed them on my college-boy lover.

Jason sure did enjoy getting his cock sucked. Me, too.

I wondered if I would enjoy sucking cock as much if I couldn't feel the sensations my mouth produced for the man. I hoped so. If I ever lost my ability, I decided I'd still love the feel of a cock pulsing with pleasure in my mouth.

With the added benefit of an active tongue, I used my mouth to emulate a cunt. Increasing the speed of my bounce, my mouth took his arousal higher and higher. Mine, too. Soon, he was close, very close, but Jason's thoughts told me he didn't want to climax while standing, so with a smack from my lips, I reluctantly released his long shaft and rose to my feet. "Get naked, lover," I breathed, "and join me on the bed."

He'd enjoyed watching me play with my pussy before. Would he like to watch again? Yep. While he stripped, his eyes stared at my fingers busy at my cunt as they rolled over my clitoral shaft, occasionally dipping down to capture more moisture. My pussy was creaming, providing all the moisture I needed and then some.

"I want to eat you," he said as he moved naked onto the bed, his curvy cock bumping against my inner thigh leaving a streak of his tasty lubricant in its wake.

"And I want to eat you," I said.

"Okay. We'll eat each other."

I envisioned Jason over me while he licked my pussy and I had his long shaft in my mouth, and I decided I'd prefer being on top during a sixty-nine. I figured I'd have more freedom of movement that way, which cock sucking required, so I pushed Jason to his back, performed a graceful - hopefully - one-eighty in the bed and straddled his chest. I took his hard-on in my hands again and gave it a few long, smooth strokes similar to those Jason gave himself when he demonstrated how he jacked off, but my college-boy lover was impatient. He wanted his mouth on my pussy, so he pulled at my hips, scooting me back until he could pull my dripping pussy down to his mouth.

I continued to stroke his long cock with my hand while I savored the sensations of his mouth cuddling, nibbling, and exploring my pussy. My college boy adored my cunt, considered it tasty, and loved its fragrances. Most of all, he enjoyed giving me pleasure. His unselfish attitude thrilled me almost as much as his lips and tongue. The feel of Jason's stubble sensuously scraping my inner thighs pushed my excitement up a few notches.

Realizing I didn't have many notches left before I exploded with an orgasm, I decided I'd better get busy myself. While continuing to stroke his cock, I busied my tongue, rolling it around and around his crown, finding the most sensitive places, concentrating on them briefly before bobbing down and taking about five inches of his length into the wet cavity of my mouth. He liked that, so I did, too. I bobbed, saying yes, while Jason lapped my cunt like a thirsty animal. I sucked; he sucked. I gently scratched the underside of his scrotum. He pushed a large finger into my cunt. I bobbed and licked and sucked. He licked and sucked and finger-fucked.

Tuned in as I was to what he was feeling, I heightened my excitement to his level and kept pace with him as our arousals soared toward a peak. Orgasm times two was imminent.

I was waiting for him. He was waiting for me. When one of us couldn't hold the edge any longer, the other would...

Yes! His wonderful cock swelled in my mouth, became suddenly harder, and his hips flew up off the bed. His lips clamped my clit, mauling it like I liked, and I fell away into my orgasmic bliss at the same time I felt his first jet of semen fly into my mouth.

Orgasm times two!

I sailed to the realm of sensation, but it wasn't a solo flight. Sharing Jason's sensations, I felt him join me in that place of pure sensual awareness. I harvested his moments of intense exquisite sensations as if they were my own and merged them with my even more intense orgasmic sensations. Our combined sensations evolved into the unnamed emotion that wiped out our normal senses, allowing us to feel only rapture so piercing and intense and pleasurable that all other awareness of our existence melted away. Fantastic!

He left the realm of orgasmic emotion first, leaving me behind. I didn't want to be alone; I wanted to be with him, so I pushed at the edges and gathered my senses. Upon my return, I found my mouth was chuck full of his wonderful come, so I swallowed. That was the moment I discovered I'd finally gained an appreciation of the texture of semen. Enjoying semen's texture enhanced its taste. I'd loved the taste before; now I reveled in it. I gulped and swallowed, but still some escaped my ravenous mouth.

My hips were waving, and my clitoris throbbed as pulse after pulse of pleasure washed over me. I felt Jason's neck relax, and his mouth fell away from my cunt. His timing was perfect. Was he tuned in to my sensations like I was to his?

I cleaned up some come dribbles, savoring the taste and texture one last time, and rolled off his face. After performing another one-eighty on the bed, I cuddled into his arms. He held me close while we recovered.

"You're amazing," he whispered, "and you don't need anymore practice. You, Katy Owen, are an accomplished fellatrix."

I giggled. I actually giggled as I puffed up with pride. According to my lover, and his opinion was the only one that counted, I'd become an exceptional cocksucker. How about that? At the ripe old age of seventeen, I'd achieved one of my lifetime goals.

"Thank you, lover," I said after I rolled toward him and gave him a soft romantic kiss.

"I owe you an apology, Katy."

"Why? You haven't..."

"I thought you were giving me a line about helping Sara with your psychic ability just so you could wrangle a plane ticket out of me."

His statement pissed me off. I had to think, to look at the situation from his point of view, before I backed off from my sudden burst of anger. He'd witnessed my psychic ability, but I'd downplayed it, made it appear random and associated only with intense emotional situations. Why should he believe I could tune in to Sara's thoughts and emotions?

"Will you forgive me?"

My sensitive lover had sensed my anger. I relaxed. "Of course, I forgive you. The quality of my emotional connection with Sara surprised even me, but it also pleased me because I truly do want to help. To really help, though, I'll need more information. I don't know what to watch for."

"Makes sense. Sara has a combination of mental problems coupled with a drug dependency. I think her biggest problem was and is her ex-husband. He's an uptight, self-righteous asshole with a lot of money. He constantly harangued Sara, made her feel incompetent, less than worthless, and slowly shattered any self-confidence she ever had. Shortly before she became pregnant with little Donna, that's her daughter, Sara experienced her first panic attack. That's when the asshole hired the psychiatrist I fired shortly after my arrival here in Denver. Between her husband and her doctor, Sara's feelings of inadequacy increased, as did the frequency of her panic attacks. After Donna was born, Sara fell into a deep postpartum depression, and her husband used this depression, along with some other and subsequent mental problems, against her to gain custody of their child when he divorced her. The fucker turned her into a basket case, dumped her and took her child away from her."

The mind I'd connected with earlier didn't reflect Jason's explanation. Sara hadn't thought about her daughter once during the time I was with her. Was she blotting out thoughts of her baby girl as a coping mechanism?

"The postpartum depression created a monumental rift between Sara and her husband. Instead of trying to understand, he hired others to care for the child, and Sara's bouts of depression and anxiety increased both in severity and frequency. The first time she tried to commit suicide happened shortly after her husband filed for divorce. Sleep disorders came with the depression, so the incompetent psychiatrist prescribed sleeping pills and other uppers and downers, and along with her other problems, Sara found herself addicted to pills. The major depression that brought about her last attempt to kill herself was a doozy. The doctors had to use what they call electroconvulsive therapy to bring her out of her malaise. Electroconvulsive therapy essentially creates controlled seizures, and it's used as a treatment for patients who are a high risk of suicide or don't respond to medications." He sighed. "She's a mess, Katy."

I felt his love for his sister wash over me.

"She's a mess, but I'm also proud of her. She's come a long way in the last two weeks. She's responding to her new medication, therapy and therapist. When I arrived I never saw a person as sad as she. She'd given up completely, Katy, and her psychiatrist didn't have a clue about how to help her. The more I learned the more I realized he needed to go. I hunted around and found Dr. Rourke. She uses cognitive behavior therapy instead of the Freudian model, and Sara is coming around. She has a long way to go, but under Dr. Rourke's care, with my help, and now yours, she'll find herself again. The fun-filled evening you concocted for tonight was just what the doctor ordered - so to speak."