Another piece of fan fiction has come in over the transom.
Fan fiction is your opportunity to write yourself into the story, gentle reader. If you have thoughts about what might happen if you met Jefferson and/or his friends, write them up and send the results my way. If your writing passes muster, it may wind up on these pages.
And if it turns the readers on, who knows what may happen?
This tale comes from a reader in California who wishes to remain anonymous. She wonders: what if Jefferson was made to be submissive?
it’s late when i get into the city. jefferson is nothing yet everything i expected. usually, handsome men turn me off because once you get past their smarminess, there is nothing but vanity. but jefferson is different. he has a quiet confidence about him that precedes the delicious smile whenever he enters a room.
or in this case, gate 7B, where he meets me for the first time.
"hello," he whispers, as he kisses my cheek. immediately, i am excited at the sound of his voice. since this is the first time i hear him, i clear my head of any previous expectations.
"hey, jefferson," i say, with a shortness of breath. does he notice my nervousness, my awe of him? if he does, he ignores it.
"ready?" he asks. in my mind, this opens up floodgates. ready? i was born ready, but i am unprepared for this. where is my ticket? can i turn back now?
"sure . . . just give me a sec. i need to call matt to say good night." i find a place away from him to call my twelve-year-old sweet boy who has no idea of his mother's illicitness.
"ready now?" he asks a second time patiently, as he greets me with the sweetest of smiles. even his eyes are smiling. if i look too long, i'll be forever in this moment. its not a bad place to be, but there is work to be done.
"yes, jefferson, im ready," i say with a little laugh.
he hails a cab because in this city of sidewalks and subways, he doesnt have a car.
about six years ago, i began an online sexual affair with a woman. she told me the first time we "talked" that she had just gotten home from a cab ride where she masturbated. since i never ride in cabs, i couldn’t imagine her experience. but now was a great time to try.
"so, how was the journey?" he asks politely.
"it's worth the destination. it was long. the guy next to me kept looking at me like he had something to say. but i kept writing in my journal."
"was he hot?"
"mmm . . . just your average coast to coast traveler. i don’t remember his face. i was too busy trying to avoid it so i wouldn’t have to start a conversation."
how do i steer this from nicey nice to some form of sexual banter, at the very least?
"jefferson, are we far from my hotel?" i ask casually.
"hotel? i thought you were staying at my place?"
me? at his place? i thought i told him i wouldn’t be invading his space. in case his ex father in law bernard made an emergency stop.
"no, baby. i have a room. but jefferson, how far are we from my hotel?" of course, he can't answer this question because he thinks were going to his place. that’s what he tells the cabbie, anyway.
"we are a short ride from my place. stop by for awhile."
a short ride? that’s plenty. "so, i was wondering. should we get the first kiss over with?" i ask as i look into his eyes without caving in to the desire to look away.
this is hard. and if i were a man, i would be, too.
"let’s, shall we?" and with this, i am given the liberty to do what it is i came for. i came for jefferson. i came to experience the man whose blog has changed my sexual nature. forever.
he leans in towards me, and as i get closer, i begin to giggle. shit. what an inopportune time. the giggling begins and takes a life of its own, and i look at him, and he looks at me like i am crazy.
"jefferson. i. am. sorry," i say haltingly. "it. isnt. you. im. just nervous. im so nervous that im laughing over the fact that im so nervous."
damn. why the hell doesn’t the giggling stop? okay, ive been in situations where the giggling has invaded my system. what did i do then? and then i remember. breathe. inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale. i am in control again.
"jefferson." i move closer to him so i can feel his breath. i lean closer still and kiss him. first, slow butterfly kisses. then as i look deeper into his gaze, i become hungry. i kiss him with such force that it scares me but excites me more. this is what i came to do.
i reach down to feel if he is as excited as i am, and i cannot tell what it is i am holding. my mind cannot register that it is jefferson’s cock. when i get my bearings, i decide to inspect it, not with my eyes for it is too dark. but rather, with my mouth and tongue.
it's been awhile since i’ve had a man’s cock in my mouth . . . or any other place in my body, for that matter. i’ve been celibate for awhile now. at first, it was for intimacy purposes. then it was because it was a novel pursuit. finally, it was because i wanted to wait for jefferson to break me open.
in a way i have not been broken before.
i suck his cock for awhile, yet the man doesn’t cum. i am intrigued. any other man would make me feel i wasn’t doing it right, but jefferson likes to make women cum first. again and again.
so, i am not surprised when he reaches under my skirt. he finds my clit right away because i do not wear undies. they just get in the way. have i told this to him before? either way, it is a surprise.
he fingers me as i suck his cock. i am careful not to groan, but my slurping cannot be quieted. the cabbie was getting a show; i hope hes driving slowly. i cum on jefferson’s fingers, and instinctively, i place them in my mouth. i taste what he has done to me, and i want him to have a taste, too.
as i go back to his hard dick, i detour to his mouth. i cannot get enough of this mans lips. his tongue. i cannot wait until i am in the comfort of his room. finally, the cab pulls over.
how we make it out of the cab to jefferson’s place to his bedroom is a blur. by the time i recover my senses, i am straddling over his naked body, about to put a velvet blindfold on him. i have to tie him up, this i know, but first i want him to finger me again.
usually, i am conversational during sex. i like to say what i like. i like to ask if he’s okay. i like to say where he should go next. i like to ask for directions. but not tonight. not with jefferson. i’ve played this scene over and over, and i do not care for chit chat. i want to do this, and i need to do it without verbosity.
i blindfold jefferson, but before i do, i kiss his eyelids gently. his eyes are so beautiful, and its almost a shame to hide them behind this fabric, but i come here with a purpose. one more gaze to try to read his soul, and the velvet is on.
he fingers me furiously. i let him. i cum on his fingers, enjoying the growing size of his dick. but then it is time. i move from his fingers and lovingly take his arms and find the rope that will bind them. this is a ritual that i have not done with anyone, nor had done to me, and the novelty of it calms me while it awakens me at the same time.
"jefferson, thank you for letting me." and with this, i hit his ass with my hand. the sting makes my eyes water. the sound of my hand against his skin makes me wet. i see his cock, and i dive for it. i find his balls, his asshole, and the area in between. i am so hungry. i am so desperate. for what? for jefferson.
i grab the flogger, the one he let me borrow, to use against his skin. i bring it down hard on the side of his leg, and the tears begin to come.
"jefferson, should i stop?" i ask him, trying to mask the sob about to come out.
"no, baby, you are doing fine."
"say my name, jefferson."
"maria." and i smack him again, this time the opposite leg. i touch what i had done, and i feel the welts. tears stream down. i am happy. i am scared. i am with jefferson.
i take his cock in my mouth. sucking more savagely than before. i am careful not to hurt him with my teeth. i am tasting my spit, my tears, and some of his cum. i pull away. where is that dildo and the lube?
"baby, are you here with me?" i am afraid he is asleep. he has done this so many times before. what makes me think i am different? who am i? why me?
"i am here." and with that, i slap him across his right cheek. his head jerks to the side, and i am scared i really hurt him. but i want to hurt him. it causes me such pleasure. i know i cannot turn back after tonight.
i lube the dildo, then i go back to his lips. i kiss him. i search for something in his lips; i search for answers. as i search, i insert the dildo in his ass. gently. i do not like this, but I’m curious about it, and i know jefferson would want me to do it.
he lifts his hips up, and as he does, i feel his cock against my pussy. it is difficult to ride him and manipulate the dildo, so i leave his cock alone for awhile and concentrate on his ass. can he cum this way? i pull the dildo from his ass, and use the flogger to hit him harder than necessary.
"jefferson. jefferson." it’s my mantra, my prayer.
"maria." i hit him again.
i am addicted.
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The life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
When told by my wife that our fifteen-year relationship was over, I found that everything in my life was upended. I took solace when friends and family pointed out I was no longer responsible for her personal happiness, just my own—and that of my four children.
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
5 comments:
Dude--
Why, oh why didn't you read my comment before? Sure, it's your blog, and you're entitled to put whatever it is you want on there...but we love your writing. Reading someone else's writing on your blog is like....cheating on you. And it's no fun, 'cause it's with your permission. So....uh, please-- no more!
I second this sentiment.
Quick everyone hide! Bernard could be here ANY SECOND!
How about fan signs? You know naked photos from your readers, with strategically placed signs saying 'I love One Life Take Two!'
Now those I might be interested in seeing.
I just cried. Thank you.
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