jack and jitters

Jack and Jitters: Epilogue

You know those infamous thin walls I talk about in my description on this site?

Well, I’ve got a “neighbor” who I cannot stand at all. I knew her before I found out that my room was next door to hers and I wasn’t particularly thrilled. She’s bitchy, she’s closed-minded, she’s from one of those areas that are incredibly homogenous, racist, sexist, etc. I’ve also heard she talks shit about me sometimes about how some noise comes from my room from when I have people over, for reasons both sexual and nonsexual. Whatever. I try to be considerate, but a girl has needs.

Not to mention she has her very loud friends over almost every night since the beginning of the year, so I think it’s a fair tradeoff that I get my rocks off every so often in my room. I really do try to avoid taking people back to my room, but sometimes it happened.

By coming back to campus a few days earlier than most people, SG and I had assumed that she was out and we could do whatever we wanted.

After the ordeal, SG and I found ourselves cuddled up on my bed. I had washed up, pulled on some sweats, and was riding the endorphins. Suddenly, we heard my neighbor’s door open and her footsteps entering in the hallway.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, “she’s been in there the whole time.” She had most likely heard the entire thing.

SG shrugged and brushed some hair off my face, “she probably enjoyed it.”

Jack and Jitters: Part 6

He finished on my face and in my mouth. I barely had enough time to swallow before I was bent over and spanked. He rolled me over and his hand returned to my clit and he rubbed, dragging another two orgasms out of me. By the time the second was about to roll around, I was shaking.

“Think you deserve it?” He asked. It was what he said a lot before I came. We have rules. I have to ask permission. I have to deserve it.

I could barely think straight. I was completely down in subspace. My whole body was a mess of goosebumps and jitters. It was the most intense “sexual” experience I’ve probably ever had and the boy hadn’t even penetrated me.

He smiled and rubbed harder, “I think I want you to cum right now.” I bucked back against him and moaned loudly. There was a smug causality to his face, still. Even as I was in this state, he was completely casual.

“You’re so…I don’t know,” I managed to gasp out, “like you’re just playing with something.”

He chuckled and nodded, “sounds about right.”

I felt myself slipping into an orgasm, “like you’re just handling a piece of property. Like it’s just something you use for…” I trailed off.

“That’s right,” he smirked as I was overcome by shudders. “You’re a piece of property, baby.” I came hard.

He helped me to my feet. My face was still covered in his cum, I was completely in subspace, I barely knew which way was up. He pulled me into him and allowed me to steady myself against him. I sighed into his shoulder as he took my hand, held it up, and kissed it.

A gentleman.

Jack and Jitters, Part 5

“You know I can’t multitask.”

The Southern Gentleman had pulled me up onto my hands and knees on the bed. While I was busy sucking his cock, his hand had wandered down to my clit. Still sensitive from my orgasm and fast-careening toward subspace, I could barely concentrate on his cock when he touched me.

He chuckled, “well, you’re going to have to learn. Or I’m going to have to teach you.”

I tried to shrink away from his hand so I could focus on sucking him off. He sighed, “looks like I’m going to have to teach you, Ivy.” Before I could process this, his hand practically clamped over my cunt as he started to rub my clit violently and his other hair gripped my hair firmly as he started to fuck my face roughly.

I was totally and completely overwhelmed.

And it was perfect.

Jack and Jitters, Part 4

He rubbed for a while longer as I ground myself against the bed, squirming and gasping with how sensitive I had become. As I got close, he yanked the stockings that bound my wrists and pulled me down to my knees. His other hand gathered up a chunk of my hair and held it roughly, pushing my face into the crotch of his pants.

I reached up with my bound hands to try to undo his belt and he let go of my hair, grabbing onto the knot in the stockings. “You have way too much freedom.” He tightened the knot, making the removal of his belt, pants, and boxers a tad more difficult.

He reached down and pulled my nightgown up, knotting it above my breasts as to expose my body without removing it. He combed his hand through my hair, pulling it a bit as his hands left my scalp to dip my hair back and open my mouth. “Look at me while you suck it,” he said as I took him into my mouth.

I don’t want to fully admit that I started grinning when he sighed, “I love the way you suck my cock.” I really don’t want to own up to the fact that a phrase as simple or lewd as that could make me feel awesome. Because, well, I’d like to think I’ve got other stuff going for me and other important skills. But, gosh, I don’t know. There’s something about making a man sigh.

I didn’t break eye contact until he hauled me to my feet somewhere in the middle of it by the stockings around my wrists. He removed the stockings and yanked the nightgown over my head and off of my body. My hands wandered to his shirt and I pulled it off. We were both naked. For a few moments we were – as it seemed – even.

Jack and Jitters, Part 3

The Southern Gentleman reached down, found my clit, and started to rub it. He tugged again on the stockings, pulling my body taut. He was standing up almost completely straight, staring down at me with almost the hint of a smile in his eyes, but otherwise about as casually as one would look flipping a pancake.

“You know, you’re sopping wet,” he said. He ran his fingers down my slit before wiping them on my face. He slapped his hand back down to my cunt and kept going, rubbing my clit hard. Occasionally, I fought. He would just smack my cunt and keep going, staring down at me with a look that was somewhere between severe and completely nonchalant.

He briefly let go of the stockings around my wrists to pull the nightgown over my breasts. He grabbed my wrists once more, pulled them up, and leaned his face down into my chest. The combined attention he was giving my breasts and clit was bringing me close already.

“No,” I tried to close my legs once more.

He smacked my cunt roughly. I cried out. “What did you say?”

“No."

He smacked it again. "What was that?" I huffed and ground myself against his hand. He smacked it once more. "What did you say?” By now, he was standing up completely straight. I was close. My body was trembling.

“Whatever you want,” I moaned out.

“Whatever you want…?"

"Whatever you want, Sir,” I managed to gasp out.

He chuckled, “good answer.” He looked me over and leaned down a bit closer to me, “you’re going to cum, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Do you think you deserve it?” He asks me this question a lot, just about every time I’m about to experience an orgasm. It’s hard. It’s like self-grading. You don’t want to over-inflate yourself and miss out because of your lack of modesty. You don’t want to undersell yourself and miss out.

“I don’t know,” I moaned.

He pulled harder on the stockings that held my wrists and chuckled, “I think you should. Go on. You don’t even have to ask."

I came hard. I would have probably crumpled to the floor if he wasn’t holding me up. It was the sort that involved my entire body, the kind that left me absolutely spent afterwards. I get incredibly tender after I’ve cum and he knows it, so I was a little shocked to feel him still rubbing my clit with the same intensity.

"I’m done,” I gasped out, “come on, I’m done. It…I’m tender. I’m done.”

With this, he smirked and leaned down a bit closer to me. He was grinning wide, almost as if he were about to tell a joke. His accent came out. “Well, I didn’t say I was, baby.”

sexisnottheenemy: Nick & Meredith by Kevin Loreaux

Jack and Jitters, Part 2

(Note: What is to follow here depicts some consensual nonconsent. In no way was I ever actually not consenting to what was going on this evening, nor was I coerced into these acts by physical force. While certain acts depicted can be completely considered to be illegal and wrong in a very different context, SG and I are two consenting adults with a mutual understanding about the dynamic of our relationship and the fact that I could have terminated these actions anytime I wanted. While alcohol was involved, I was coherent and completely aware of the situation, not to mention I had the equivalent of what you’d rub around a baby’s mouth when it has a toothache. Seriously. Sober, safe, sane. Consensual.)

I was feeling a little bit bratty by the time I pulled the nightgown over my head. I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the fact that he’d made me go through the formality, so I decided I wasn’t going to make anything too easy for him either.

I took the glass out of his hand and took a sip. Then another. I set it back down on my bedside table. He reached for my hand, I took a step back and cocked a brow, lowered my head, raised my eyes. He reached out again, this time grabbing my arm, and swung me over to the bed.

SG has a sort of favorite way he likes to hold me where I’m bent over backwards on the side of the bed. The bed is on risers that put the mattress about a yard off the ground, so really just my shoulder-blades and up touch it. This time, he pushed me hard and I pushed back. He tried to pin my arms down, I struggled against his grasp. The second he reached down to pull the nightgown up, I used my free hand to try to shove his away. He gathered both hands above my head under one of his and proceeded to try to use a sheet to tie my wrists. Obviously, that’s just way too much fabric.

“My stockings are in the second drawer from the top,” I said, briefly breaking character. He smiled through his, reached in and grabbed a pair of black stockings. He secured my wrists together impossibly. Freaking Eagle Scouts.

He held onto the ends of the stockings with one hand, yanking my arms up further across the mattress to the point that I was forced onto my toes. He reached down between my legs and his fingers brushed over my lips and I closed my legs. “No,” I breathed. (Once again, dear readers: safe, sane, consensual, sober.)

“What did you just say?” He shoved my legs apart, holding one open and trapping the other between his.

“No,” I groaned again and tried to close my legs. He reached down and smacked my cunt. Hard, sharply. I cried out.

It’s strange. I wanted him and because I wanted him I wanted to refuse him. I know it doesn’t entirely make sense. But it’s like every time I said “no” and every time I refused him, I was bringing more of him out and into this. And the more of that part of him came out, the more of that part of me came out. It’s carnal. It’s completely and totally animalistic.

And it was also a demonstration. It was a trust fall. And as he pulled the stockings harder, pulling my body taut and arching my back more dramatically, I knew he’d catch me.

Jack and Jitters, Part 1

On the last evening SG and I were planning to spend off-the-radar, we attempted to go out somewhere. However, everywhere we went was either closed or just plain lame. And so we decided we’d “spend the night in”. It sounded vaguely domestic.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I began as I picked up the bottle of Jack I had in my room. “I’ll put a nightgown on and we’ll have an evening like the Drapers.” I poured out a glass and took a sip.

The Southern Gentleman snorted, “and of course that starts with drinking.”

“Just like everything else in Mad Men,” I held out the glass to him and started to remove my clothing.

I was down to my sweater and bra when he set the glass down and came over, placing his hands on my hips. He kissed down my neck, pulled the sweater off for me, unhooked the bra. I reached for the buckle of his belt and he stepped back, smirking. “Go put your nightgown on.”

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.