"Touch yourself, sweetheart," he whispered against my ear. "Let me see you touch yourself."
Jackson could have asked me to do almost anything at that point and I would have complied. I lowered a hand, playing with my aroused clit, the pleasure multiplied by knowing Jackson was watching me. I heard his breathing grow ragged as I closed my eyes, rubbing my most sensitive spot with more pressure as I moaned. He lifted his hips and hooked his feet around the edge of the tub so that my throbbing center was raised above the water. I dipped my fingers inside my moistness, lubricating them with my arousal, and then continued manipulating myself. I could feel Jackson grow hard against my buttocks, his fingers twisting my aching nipples, as my body grew as taut as a bow.
"That's it, sweetheart. Let me see you make yourself come. Think about me sucking on your clit, about me licking your pussy. Think about how hard I'm going to fuck you when you're done. That's it, baby. That's it."
Jackson continued whispering encouraging words in my ear as my fingers became frantic against my swollen bud, his raspy voice telling me what he was going do to me, taking me close to the edge.
Finally, I couldn't take the sensations anymore and I bowed my back, crying out loudly as my climax shuddered through me. Jackson kept his legs wrapped around mine, keeping them spread far apart, with my convulsing center raised above the water, intensifying my orgasm. He kissed me gently on the side of my head when I went limp in his arms, collapsing against him as he lowered us back into the water. I thought my climax was over but a last shudder went through my body when he lifted my hand, taking my fingers into his warm mouth and licking off my wetness.
"Do you ever think about me when you're touching yourself?" Jackson asked, his voice low and raspy. I stilled, his words too close to the truth for comfort. I didn't want to admit how often I had imagined Jackson's mouth and hands on me, inside of me, as I brought myself to climax. I didn't want him to know about the gut-wrenching loneliness I felt when I was done, having to face the reality of being alone in my bedroom. So I just turned around, kneeling between Jackson's spread legs. I stroked his rock hard shaft beneath the water, staring into the dark green depth of his eyes.
"We need to get out of the water so I can suck your cock."
Jackson groaned at my words and he stood, lifting me up with him. Water slicked off our bodies as he lifted me out of the tub, the bathroom warm and misty from the steam. Jackson dragged a plush bath mat over and then leaned against the sink, looking down at me, his face hard with desire. Yet he still was able to lift one corner of his mouth in a rueful smile. "You don't have to ask me twice."
I kneeled down in front of him on the bath mat, grasping his erection at the root. Jackson breathed in sharply when I licked the head of his shaft, his eyes drifting closed as his head fell back. I slowly took him deeply into my mouth, sucking and licking his hard length as if I couldn't get enough of him.
"Yes, sweetheart," Jackson muttered, his hips bucking against my mouth. "That feels so fucking good."
I continued bobbing my head up and down, taking him inside my mouth so deeply that I felt him hit the back of my throat and then go even further. I choked briefly and stamped down my gag reflex, wanting to give him as much pleasure as possible as I sucked him frenetically, my cheeks hollowing out with the pressure. His erection was like silken steel in my mouth and I reveled in his uncontrollable reactions to my caresses. I whimpered as I quickened the pace, feeling my answering wetness between my thighs.
I looked up at Jackson to find him watching me, a feral look on his face as he stared down at me, his face strained with arousal. One hand was wrapped around my hair and I felt his grasp tighten as his eyes bored into mine until I felt his shaft jerk, pumping his hot release into my mouth. Jackson's eyes closed, his lips stretching against his teeth as he yelled out a guttural moan, his hand in my hair holding my mouth prisoner to the spurts of his climax. But I wasn't trying to go anywhere. I greedily swallowed the saltiness of him and lapped up the remaining drops glistening on the head of his shaft. After Jackson's last convulsion, he leaned down and wrapped a hand on each of my upper arms, drawing me to my feet. He leaned down, burying his face in my hair, not saying a word. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling him breathe in deeply. After a few moments, he pulled back, searching my face. I didn't understand his somber look after such a satisfying experience, but I didn't ask him what he was thinking. I didn't want to know.
We pulled on our robes again, padding into the living room. I turned on the television to fill the silence, Jackson's solemn mood making me uncomfortable. We sat there watching TV and I couldn't help but marvel at how normal the scene looked. We were both sitting on the sofa and Jackson had my hand in his lap, gently stroking my palm with his thumb. We looked like any couple relaxing after a vigorous and satisfying bout of lovemaking, but I felt anything but relaxed. I tensed even more when a commercial came on for Jackson's new movie. Crossing Wires. A montage of scenes flitted across the screen and I couldn't help feeling a hard ball of resentment in the pit of my stomach when I saw Jackson and Candace Stile embracing one another in a passionate kiss.
I pulled my hand off Jackson's lap and saw him watching me. I wondered if he was telling the truth about Candace or if there was something more than friendship and a professional relationship between them. Jackson didn't have the best track record when it came to fidelity.
"There's nothing between us. I told you that. Candace and I are just friends."
I shrugged, not wanting Jackson to think I wanted an explanation of their relationship. "It doesn't matter."
Jackson sighed deeply and reached over to grab the room service menu, apparently dismissing the topic. "Are you hungry? We can order room service again."
I bit my lip, deciding to let the topic of Candace go. I was right when I told Jackson it didn't matter, although my heart didn't agree. "I thought you knew I was always hungry. It must be a change from all the anorexic models you're around," I said in a teasing voice, wanting to lighten the mood.
Jackson smiled in return. "It's nice to be around a woman who orders more than a lettuce leaf. We can order tons of food and sicken ourselves with gluttony."
I laughed at Jackson's eager expression, the boyishness of his enthusiasm reminding me of the Jackson I used to know. We perused the menu and then Jackson ordered enough food for an army. I flicked through the movies on demand as we waited for our food to arrive, stopping on Negative Exposure, Jackson's first movie.