“Again.'
“Again.'
Finally I couldn't come anymore, but Lynn was as revved up as she could possibly be. “Janie! Do me! I'm begging you, Janie! Have mercy, lover! Oh, Jesus God almighty!” She was almost in tears.
To keep her from plunging her greedy fist into her own crotch and robbing me of her pleasure, I went in headfirst, lapping up every drop she had spilled in our joining.
“Pleeeeeeeeeease!” she screeched as I nibbled her starving clit. I bore down with my tongue so she would come good and hard. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her after making her wait such a long time.
When she came, her ass thumped the bed just like the “whump” of heavy artillery. She snapped my head up and down as her climax shook both of us and the bed so hard I didn't know if either of us would survive. I heard a garbled cry and raised my eyes to see she had stuffed her fist in her mouth. I was grateful for her discretion because here in our working-class neighborhood, that much evidence of my sexuality might have been just a bit too much information. I jammed my mouth and my jaw into her pussy and ground fiercely until a series of gasping sobs alerted me that she was done.
Quickly I untied her and pulled her into my arms where she cried like a baby. “Oh, Lynn, Lynn, Lynn, my love,” I murmured into her hair.
She clung to me like a tiny monkey, “Oh, God, I love you, Jane. I love you, love you, love you. Jesus Christ, no one else has ever done that to me. Don't you ever leave me, Janie. Don't you dare.'
“No, lover, never,” I promised, and then it was my turn to cry. I had been sure I would have to beg and plead for some outward sign of her love. Lynn Jeffries never failed to surprise me, and as I mentally checked off the first item on my list, I yawned and fell asleep in the arms of my beloved.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning we breakfasted on the bagels and pastries Lynn had thoughtfully brought along with the ribs.
“Um, about last night,” she began shyly, spreading cream cheese.
Uh-oh, I thought. Here comes the denial. I stopped breathing and just looked at her.
“I… I really meant it, Jane. I couldn't have said I love you if I didn't. I surprised myself, but, upon reflection, I find I mean it. I do,” she sighed as if a burden had been lifted.
I reached across, took her hand, and kissed it. “Bless you, my lord.'
Lynn smiled radiantly. “Look how long it took me to find the right person. No, Jane, I am not going to let you get away.'
“I really am glad, Lynn. Sometimes we say things in the heat of passion we don't really mean.'
Lynn stopped spreading cream cheese and lanced me with a glare. “Excuse me?'
“I don't doubt you, love. I meant some people, not all people, and certainly not you,” I babbled.
“Quit groveling,” she ordered.
“I thought you liked groveling,” I said, picking up my bagel.
She stopped to think. “I love it. Actually, now that you mention it, you may grovel at any time. Acceptable.'
“I thought so.” I gathered my courage. “Lynn, I was thinking of having some friends of mine over next weekend, frankly to introduce you. I was gonna do a barbecue again, but let folks cook their own. What do you think?'
She chewed as she considered my request. “Um, meet your friends? Well, I have to check my calendar and I'd really like to know exactly who they are before I commit. If they were, for example, parents of students, I couldn't. And there are some other kinds of people I frankly would prefer not to meet.'
“Okay, like who?'
“Like anyone from the club. I can't possibly reveal myself to anyone from there,” she said firmly.
That eliminated Bev. “Anyone else?'
“I, uh, prefer not to advertise this to anyone in this county involved in education. I'll explain. In Florida, persecution of gay educators is cyclic. Periodically there are witch-hunts, and people who are merely suspected of homosexuality are dismissed, right along with those who actually are gay. I'm not ashamed, but I can't be out. I can't afford to be.'
“Educators from other counties?” I asked.
“Possibly, depending on their position and orientation.” Lynn nodded.
“Well, they would all be gay,” I assured her.
“I can't promise you anything. Give me a list of names with a thumbnail bio on each and I'll get back to you. How's that?” She smiled as though she had done me some enormous favor, and I wasn't about to push my luck.
“I can bring it by this afternoon or tomorrow. When am I seeing you again?” I asked her.
“Oh, honey, you wore me out last night! Let's not have too much of a good thing. Tomorrow afternoon at four will give me plenty of time to catch up on my projects. All right?'
I almost laughed. Lynn's assumption was that I would never have a conflict with her wishes or her schedule. For the moment anyway, her assumption was 100% accurate.
“Absolutely. I'll be there,” I said.
“I'll have a nice surprise for you then, too,” she promised. She got up and kissed my forehead. “Walk me out?” Already her mind was elsewhere and I knew better than to fuss. We had been together over twelve hours already.
“Yes, dear,” I said meekly, helping her gather up her things, and she winked at me in that adorable way she had, letting me know my compliance met with her approval.
I put everything in her trunk and she backed out. Glancing around furtively, Lynn blew me a little kiss and roared off. I had been relegated neatly to my appointed slot, to be released only at her pleasure.
If I hadn't wanted to be Lynn's slave, this might have bothered me. I had different plans about how to be her slave, but I certainly didn't consider myself either her equal or her superior. For now, her strict control of our relationship was acceptable. She had to get to know me and see how far she could trust me. Then she could ease up. She said so herself.
Late in the afternoon she called, which she almost never did, and announced that she had found time to read my book.
“I was most impressed. What are you working on now?” she demanded.
I told her about my Terran exobiologist and her struggle to save a habitable planet for the outcasts of a pre- industrial society.
“Hmm. May I see what you have so far? Bring it tomorrow.” Subject closed.
“Yes, ma'am.” I was willing to be meek, especially in this regard. Her connections in publishing were incomparable. I didn't know a soul but my porn publisher. Lynn's name could open doors.
“Good, and don't forget those bios,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma'am. I'm working on them,” I assured her.
“Excellent. One more thing: you won't need your uniform tomorrow. See you then, honey. Bye.'
“Ciao,” I said, but the line was already dead. I shook my head and grinned. Only Lynn could call me “honey” and hang up on me in the same minute. And since it was her demanding, imperious nature that had attracted me, I couldn't complain, so I went back to work.
Inspired by thoughts of literary success at last, I wrote all day, copied what I had onto a disk, and made up the bios as demanded. All of this went into my briefcase along with more toys that Lynn liked.
Everything seemed to be going according to plan, hers and mine. Therefore, I went to Lynn's house with the most optimistic of attitudes on Sunday afternoon, looking forward to the surprise she had promised. So far, everything she had done had been wonderful. As I rang the doorbell, I had visions of eating a banana split out of her pussy.
“It's open,” I heard her call out. “Come in and close it behind you.'
