The Descending of Jessica Ch. 05

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Seriously? You want to start in the middle of the story? You might want to read Chapters 1 -4 first.


I awoke the next morning and surprisingly felt physically all right, other than soreness in my behind where Brent, my boyfriend of two days and foster brother of the last two years had pumped my anal canal full of his plentiful manhood and dumped what felt like a pint of his seed there. Still the overall soreness was no more than the day before when he had entered my backdoor for only a second or so, but on that occasion his cock had come as a complete surprise to my delicate anus. This is not to say I felt good, but I had finally fallen asleep after a session with my new, and very first, vibrator after sending him away when I became too disgusted with myself to cope. Indeed, my first post anal sex bowel movement was in interesting experience in its own right, but far too gross to tell you about here. All I can tell you is that if you use a lot of lube, and your boyfriend is prone to large amounts of seminal discharge, expect things to be runny and leak for a while. Thankfully, enemas come in convenient three packs.

Mentally I was still a mess. Obviously, if I’m writing on an erotic site about ass drool and enemas. But that’s not the kind of mess I was that morning. I was disgusted at myself for certain acts that I knew were degrading when I performed them, and that I was so out of control sexually that I couldn’t stop myself from doing them. The idea of tongue fucking a man’s asshole, finger fucking it, or sucking the post anal sex slime from his still very wet cock, repulsed me. Yet over and over in my mind I replayed all three events and realized I couldn’t stop myself. I was that out of control. I could live with the acts themselves, sure, they’re gross, but so is a lot about life. People are ultimately disgusting skin bags of smelly fluids that like to rub on each other, but somewhere along the evolutionary line we turned away from any thing that might be both fun and related to fecal matter as being beyond the pale. I know a lot of folks like anal sex, in fact I do. The sex was great, and I look forward to repeating it. But I fear the loss of control over my own actions that the extreme edges of sexual excitement threatens me with, and I couldn’t stop myself last night. This was the cause of my mental state then. That I engaged in something that otherwise would make me wretch to even think about it, and that my hormones were so enraged I couldn’t prevent myself from doing so.

On the other hand, perhaps losing control was part of being in a trusting relationship. If Brent were out of control wouldn’t he trust me to make sure he was alright? And shouldn’t I be able to trust him likewise? Being a foster kid as I was, even though I was now 18, meant not having a lot of trust in people. The first folks I truly felt safe around were Dr and Allison Anderson, the folks that took me in and that had previously adopted Brent. I still had trust issues it seemed and I would need Brent to help with it, just as he had helped me with my studies in high school.


“Shit, I have to apologize for getting stupid on him last night.” I thought as I turned off the water to the shower I held my meditations in. If you read the previous chapters, you know my make up and dress routine for my summer job was simple and took only minutes. Today I figured on doing the make up when I got there. If you haven’t, then Ha! You’re lost!

I towel dried my long, auburn hair, and slipped on fresh cotton panties. It was steamy from the shower so I just threw on my bath robe and stepped back into my bedroom to finish dressing.

On my bed was the nicest surprise! Brent had cooked me breakfast, eggs, bacon, silver dollar pancakes and hash browns and it looked especially delicious as I had consumed only liquids the day before in prep for the anal workout last night. A single red rose was in a vase with a note leaning against it. I tore the envelope open and read;

“Jessie, “

“After the way I acted last night I can understand you don’t want me around anymore. I am going to turn my notice in at work today and head back to school. Please tell Dr Ron and Allison I got a call about a class opportunity I couldn’t pass up, and I will call them next week.”

“I’m sorry for hurting you, it was the last thing I ever wanted to do. If you don’t ever want to see me again I understand. Please find a way to forgive me though so we can be friends. Don’t blame yourself, it was me that hurt you, and its my fault. I couldn’t stand myself last night, and I hate myself more this morning. Your hatred of me now doesn’t match my own self loathing.”

Brent had signed it, and all I could think was “Ron and Allison had left me here with Brent after I kicked Danny’s ass for the videos he made of me, and now I have to kick Brent’s ass too.” I heard the front door shut and knowing I would never catch him running down the stairs, I ran to my window and unlocked it, throwing it open canlı bahis şirketleri just as Brent reached the door of his car.

“Hey!” I shouted. Brent looked up looking like a basset hound that had lost his last friend.

“Get your ass back here!” I demanded, probably waking the whole neighborhood as it was still not 7 am. Oh well, that’s what Allison gets for fostering white trash like me. I stared until he started back, then went down stairs to meet him. I caught him as he was shutting the front door and as he turned to face me, his eyes teary, I swung as hard as I could with my open palm and screamed.

“Do you think you can leave me!?” he ducked his head down and I connected with his shoulder but I drew back and swung again.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t tell a girl you love her then fucking leave!” again I missed, this time too high.

“You remember” I began, as I drew my hand back a third time, tears filling my eyes, “how hard it was as a foster kid to find one fucking person who wanted you when your own parents didn’t? Well that was supposed to be you damn it! That was supposed to be you” I cried.

Brent grabbed my hand before it could slap his face, and this time I had been on target. He gripped it hard and wouldn’t let me pull it back to try again.

“It was supposed to be you.” I blubbered as my legs gave way and he caught me from falling, pulling me against his body in a loving embrace.

“I remember.” he said, wimpering, “I remember being all alone and no one wanting me. I remember it all. The cold cinder block wall I used to sleep against at the home while they tried to find a home for me. I remember the room being so hot and stuffy there that the wall was the only way to cool down. I remember hoping that one day I would find someone like you who loved me so much, and I remember staying up all night wishing I were dead because I hurt you with my selfish desire.” He finally said, crying as much as I was now.

“What?” I exclaimed through my tears? “Hurt me? Are you fucking stupid?”


“Who the fuck said you hurt me you idiot?” I demanded.

“Wha…I mean last night, in your bed” he stammered.

“That didn’t hurt! I was fine with it you dumbass! I just weirded out because of the stuff I did made me sick to my stomach.” I said, still shouting. Well if the neighborhood was listening they must be curious about what we were fighting about, but in this community of doctors and lawyers the nearest house was about 50 yards away.

“You were fine with it?” he asked, seemingly confused.

“Well it wasn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever done, but it was okay. ” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “The prep work paid off and you could probably talk me into it again sometime…” I paused for a moment as I remember was was really important, then shouted “FUCK YOU! You bastard!” as I began beating my fists in impotent rage against his chest. “You can’t ever leave me! You can’t ever fucking leave me!”

I would repeat this until my crying made my voice incoherent. Brent responded in the only way he could, holding me, running his hand gently through my still wet hair, and telling me he never would. During my wild swings he had backed away and we were now in the dining room. Brent released his embrace and retrieved a box of tissues from a shelf beside the entry way. He, eyes bleary from his own tears, led me to the kitchen where he seated me, still blubbering, on the bar stool I always sat at when we had done our homework together two years before. He took his old seat and began drying my tears. He made me blow my nose like a mother would a child, holding the tissue and wrapping it gently across my nostrils.

“I love you so much” I said after I had begun to calm down. “Losing you would kill me I think.”

“I wanted to die last night, I sat outside your door for the longest time, hating myself. Then decided I had fucked this up too bad for you to forgive me.” he replied.

“I don’t think you can do that.” I said.


“Fuck up so bad I couldn’t forgive you.” I smiled.

“What was wrong last night? I was so worried about you. I thought about calling Ron, or an ambulance or something.”

“Ron? An Ambulance? ” I asked.

“Well, I though I had hurt you, you know, like you were bleeding or something.” he replied.

“Well that would have been a great call to make!”Dr Anderson, Jessie and me are a couple now and I was fucking her in the ass and think she might be dead.”” I laughed, trying to avoid the subject, but as much as I didn’t want to address the issue, Brent deserved an answer after what I had apparently put him through. I told him about my mother and her arrest for selling anal sex to a cop, how I found myself doing things that disgusted me, not the anal so much but with it the fear of being no different really than her. The stuff before and after when I was so worked up that made me sick to think of but I did anyway, and the fears I had canlı kaçak iddaa of losing control. I told him the thoughts I had in the shower and how I wanted to work with him on my trust issues.

“So you were scared that you couldn’t trust me?” he asked.

“Dude, I let you put a foot of your wiener up my butthole” I smiled, “of course I trust you. I just got scared because I was so out of control, and realized that… well, that I wasn’t in control.”

“So…” he pondered, “you’re a control freak.”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, lets go with that for now.”

“And you feel safer not giving up control.”

“Well, more like not losing control of myself.”

“But to be truly intimate in a relationship, you feel like you have to lose control.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, before adding, “See? I’m really fucked up!”

We were both smiling now and I spied the clock behind him to read 7:30. We had over an hour before we had to be at work.

“Well, if I could prove to you that you can trust me, would that help?” He asked.

“Of course, but there’s no way to prove that, without, well, trusting you to begin with, which I do. So I think it just takes time.”

“Oh no, I can prove right now you can trust me, at least as far as the sexual thing goes.” he claimed.

“Oh really? And how is that?” I asked.

“By pointing out that your bathrobe has been open and your boobies hanging out for the last half hour and that as your boyfriend I haven’t tried to take advantage of that yet.” he deadpanned.

I looked down, saw my C cups standing perky, with quarter sized dark pink nipples fully out of my robe. I could only smile, then said “That only proves that I fucked you so hard last night you don’t have the stamina to throw me up on the bar and make love to me before work.” I grinned.

“You’re all about fulfilling my fantasies this week aren’t you?” He said as he lifted the robe from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. We kissed and he lifted me to the granite top bar and kissed my neck and descended to my breasts.

“You fantasized about making love on the bar?” I asked,

“Every time we sat at it” he mumbled as his hot mouth landed on my nipple and his tongue teased it.

A bolt of sexual arousal went down my spine from my nipple to my clit as his hot breath and mouth warmed my breast and my pussy began again to drool for his affection. I moaned lightly as his mouth left my breast and he licked slowly down my abs, his hands tugging down my panties as I leaned back and lifted my hips to assist. He rushed to my sweet hot spot and his tongue gently licked my clit with a feather like touch sending shivers all over me. I rested back on my elbows, spread across the bar with one foot on it, my legs spread wide with the other foot resting on the bar stool I had just left. My nipple was still moist with his saliva and I rubbed and twisted it, stoking the fire he was building as he licked slowly up my pink lips and making me groan as the ecstasy built.

A few minutes of his oral attention was enough to bring me to the edge of orgasm and I was beginning to move my hips up and down in rhythm to his tongue sliding up and down my groove. At the top of each trip he would stop to orbit my swollen clit with the tip of his wet tongue, and my juices were dripping from me when Brent stopped and stood before me, pulling his tee shirt off and exposing his ripped muscular body. He dropped his shorts and boxers and his swollen, engorged cock sprang out, already hard as a rock and begging to be sucked. As with every other time I had seen it, I couldn’t stop looking at its long vein ribboned shaft and its throbbing plum colored head that seemed to call me to take it into my hungry, slutty mouth. I had given my first blow job only a little over a week ago to a guy I hated the next day, but I suppose I had him to thank for sparking my interest in cocks and the white hot cum they could ejaculate. I began to slide from the bar so I could stuff his waiting organ as far in my throat as I could, hungry for it like a whore, but Brent stopped me.

“Let me do the work this morning” he said, lifting me back to the bar as he kissed me letting me taste my tangy juices on his mouth.

Brent gently nudged my thighs with his hands and I gladly reopened my legs, as we looked each other in the eyes without ceasing. He pulled my tush to the very edge of the bar again and my pussy was open before him, while I was still mostly sitting up right, leaning back on the palms of my hands.

Brent stood on the foot rail that surrounded the bar and eased his cock into me as I gasped in ecstasy at the arrival of his hot meat in my drenched, tight, pussy. It took a few strokes to find the right angle, but soon he was pumping his huge dick into me and I was writhing out of control again. I would have done anything for him, Brent controlled me completely and I didn’t care. The top of his steely cock was pressed against my most sensitive spot as he sawed back and canlı kaçak bahis forth, each stroke nudging my cervix gently as he filled and stretched the walls of my vagina. My juices flowed out of me and onto his throbbing shaft, as well as down to my ass and all over the counter top. My head rocked side to side as I called for the name of every deity I knew as I began to cum. The orgasms came in waves and never stopped while Brent was fucking me. When one wave of orgasm ended another would begin with the stoke of his hard, wet cock against my clit as it journeyed deep into me.

Finally, as I was asea as to time and space, the whole of my being reduced to a swollen clit and a nervous system perennially locked in ultimate pleasure, Brent seized up stiff, groaned mightily, and pumped his seed into me, each of us spent and gasping for breath. I didn’t fall off as he held me up, and he didn’t fall down as I wrapped my arms around him returning the favor as his cock began to melt away inside me. I knew I had been saying something, as people do when in the height of climax, but I had no idea what. I could have been shouting the recipe for chocolate chip cookies for all I knew, but as my mind reformed from the most shattering orgasm I had ever experienced, it seemed like each one with Brent held that title, I heard my voice whispering to him as he held me tight “You can’t ever leave me, you can’t ever leave me,”

In minutes we were back down to earth. Brent suggested we call in sick as a glance at the clock showed we had taken 45 minutes with our latest escapade all told, and we have but a few to get ready and get there. I overruled that saying it was only our third day on the job and we couldn’t both lay out or folks would suspect. It was 8:15, which gave us a half hour to get ready and fifteen minutes to get there.

“I need to take a quick shower” I said as I pulled my cute cotton panties with pictures of tigers on them up to my gushy, dripping snatch, “Would you wipe down the counter?”

Brent looked at the counter which was covered in our collective sexual discharges and replied “I have to take a shower too, and find some trunks and a shirt to wear out of my bag.”

“I didn’t tell you to pack all your stuff, and you can just jump in the pool when we get there. You did yesterday.”

“Yeah, but I can’t do that two days in a row!” he said, enjoying our little disagreement,

\”It was your fantasy to fuck on the counter” I said, smiling.

“Come on Jessie, I’ve got more to do than you!” He smiled.

“Oh? Do you still have to take your birth control pill too?” I asked, letting him know somethings were more urgent than others.

“You win.” He laughed.

“I’ve got the pussy, I make the rules” I said giggling as I bounced up the stairs.

I grabbed the last yellow pill and swallowed it before wolfing down the breakfast Brent had left earlier. Sure, it was a breakfast made from ultimate sadness, but I hadn’t eaten all day yesterday and I was starved. Then I brushed my teeth. Again. Jumped in the shower. Again. Washed my tushie and privates. Again. Put on fresh panties (with just a plain pink print), Again, and jumped out, slid on shorts and sandals and a bikini top that had sort of a push up effect. I looked pretty hot I thought, and I felt quite sexy, although that was mostly due to the romantic romp we had shared. Before I had gotten a bit sore from it, but today I felt nothing but good downstairs.

As we drove to work a conundrum occurred to me.

“Where did you get the rose?” I asked.


“The rose you left with my breakfast this morning. It was good by the way.” I replied.

“Wait, you ate breakfast before you stopped me from leaving? Brent asked incredulously.

For a moment I thought about letting the dumbass believe just that as clearly he had no concept of time, but in the end I decided to let him off the hook.

“No, I ate it after that. When I went upstairs to shower. Where did you get the rose?”

“Last night, I went to the grocery for pancake mix and got it from the florist there.”

“You went out last night?” I asked

“Well yeah, otherwise I couldn’t make you pancakes.” He said as if the question itself was dumb.

“Why did you think I needed pancakes?”

“Well at the time I thought you might wake up hungry so I was going to make breakfast in bed. Then I decided you hated me”

“I could never hate you.” I interrupted.

“Well you say that now, but last night it wasn’t so clear to me.”

We drove along until we were almost to work. As we neared the club our hands unclasped and we put on the masks we showed to the world.

“No one has ever bought me a rose before.” I said.

“Really? That’s odd.”

“What’s odd about it?”

“Well I figured someone would have had the sense to send you roses in school to try to woo you last year, or at Valentines or something.” He said.

“No. You’re the first. The first boyfriend, the first lover, and now the first guy to buy me a rose.”

“A beautiful woman like you deserves roses” he said, and had we not been parking at work in possible view of our foster parents friends on the course, I would have kissed him then and not stopped until quitting time.

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