The Commander Ch. 08

This is my first erotic story -- I welcome all feedback.

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On the top-ten list of best things to wake up to, the first nine involve a blowjob. I became dimly aware I was growing erect as my slumber grudgingly yielded to consciousness. Once fully awake, I saluted the unmistakable sensation of my cock stiffening inside a loving mouth. I stretched my arms and legs to shake of the drowsiness as I lay on my back, welcoming this erotic gift.

Fiona pulled out for a moment to say "I promised you a deep throat blow job, Big Boy. Lay back and relax."

"I'd be more relaxed if you gave it to me sixty-nine," I said, and without another word, Fiona repositioned herself so she was lying inverted on top of me, with her legs splayed and her pussy resting on my face before Fiona resumed fulfilling her oral promise. I probed her fuck hole with my tongue for an instant, and then drifted northward to the million nerve endings that made up her clitoris. As I started massaging the region around her clit, I reached around with my right hand, and landmarked my middle finger on her rosebud, and gently pushed in. Fiona moaned appreciatively without losing suction.

As Fiona started to take my blowjob to the next level, I gently fingerfucked her asshole while I massaged her clit with my tongue. I could hear occasional moans of appreciation when I happened upon the right combination of sensual stimuli. When I felt my own balls stir, I pressed my tongue harder on Fiona's clit and drove my finger deeper into her asshole. Fiona rewarded my initiative by going deep. She licked my ball sack with my entire ten inches buried up to her lips for a few seconds and then resumed sucking at her normal depth.

Fiona reflexively rocked her pelvis over my face, making my clitoral massaging job easier. I bent my tongue down over my lower lip and chin, and now pressed my chin supported tongue firmly into Fiona's clit, and I heard her moans grow into long groans. With my cock still in her mouth, I heard Fiona breathing hard through her nose, like a bull spoiling for a charge. I knew she was close, so I reduced my clitoral and anal stimulation to let Fiona bring me up to her arousal level using her oral magic. She intuitively understood my throttling, and Fiona brought her encircled right finger and thumb into action to jerk the lower half of my shaft to accelerate my orgasmic ascent.

After a couple of minutes grew really close, so I resumed my full press massage on Fiona's clit and I pressed my finger more firmly into her asshole. Fiona responded by doubling the frequency of the jerking motion of her hand on my lower shaft.

We both exploded in a perfectly choreographed orgasmic ballet. Fiona instantly went deep on me, letting me unload salvo after salvo down her swallowing throat, while I wrapped my left arm around her lower back and pulled her pussy into my face as hard as I could, doubling the pressure I delivered to her clitoris. If she could have breathed, I know Fiona would be groaning wildly, but the beauty queen stayed deep on my cock while my balls continued pumping seemingly unending spurts of jism down her throat.

At last both our orgasmic spasms subsided. Fiona pulled out, and I heard her take a gasping recovery breath. I gently retracted my finger from her ass. We lay there uncoupled in our sixty-nine pose, and I wrapped both my arms around her ass in an oddly intimate embrace.

"Oh my God!" cried Fiona. "What happened to your legs?" In the course of our sixty-nine, the bed covers had slipped off my legs, and I am guessing Fiona was now noticing for the first time the bruises that must have developed overnight from my encounter with tall-boy last night.

"Bruises?" I asked.

"They're everywhere!" she exclaimed.

"That sissy at the club kicked me last night," I explained.

"My God you look awful!" Fiona declared. "Does it hurt?" she asked as she pressed a finger deep into the middle of one of my bruises.

"Only when you do that," I chided.

"Oh, sorry," she offered sheepishly.

Perhaps in penance, Fiona started jerking her hand up and down the shaft of my cock, and sure enough, it responded with renewed vigor. She lifted herself off, kneeled beside me, and continued jerking my cock. When I was stiff as steel again, Fiona positioned her pussy over my erect piston, and fucked my reborn multi-orgasmic cock with her beautifully tight pussy. She leaned forward and rocked to and fro on my pelvic bone, allowing me to reach up and play with Fiona's perfect tits.

Fiona moved her hips rhythmically, and I synchronized my pelvic thrust to her hip motion. We continued in this amorous dance until I felt my balls ready to burst again. I closed my eyes and gripped her shoulders. Fiona doubled her pelvic frequency. The tightness of her pussy was just too much to resist, and my balls unloaded for the second time that morning. Fiona stopped rocking, and lowered herself as deep as she dared as I shot wad after wad, splashing into the deep end of her tight, hot pussy. My orgasmic contractions continued for at least thirty seconds. When I finally relaxed, I gently caressed Fiona's breasts.

We rested with my still stiff cock still inside Fiona for a few minutes. Then she lifted off and sucked my cock deep-throat style. When I was shiny clean, Fiona disappeared in the bathroom, and closed the door for about five minutes. I heard the toilet flush, and I was thinking I needed to go myself. I waited a few more minutes for her to wash up and come out. But when she did, I saw a tube of K-Y in her hand. "Do me up my ass," she requested as she handed me the tube.

"With pleasure," I agreed. Fiona took me in her mouth and sucked me for a couple of minutes to restore my cock to its full measure. Then Fiona knelt on the bed with knees wide, and then bent forward until her shoulders touched the mattress. This posture left her ass cheeks and pussy lifted high and spread wide. I took my mounting position, and started by fucking Fiona's pussy in part to galvanize my cock, and I'll admit, just for fun. As I fucked Fiona, I held the K-Y tube in my left hand and squeezed a big dollop onto my right index finger, and I slipped my finger to her rosebud and pushed it in. I doubled fucked Fiona -- cock and finger -- for a while before I withdrew both, put some K-Y on my cock, and pressed to her lubed asshole.

I entered Fiona anally, and she breathed a big sigh of appreciation. I pushed the whole ten inches in, and pulled back, but not out, a few times just to ensure everything was lubricated properly. Fiona was still in a face plant position on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her right hand, crossed her arm diagonally behind her back, and securely held it in position by wrapping my left hand and fingers around her right wrist. Then I grabbed her left hand, crossed that arm diagonally behind her back, over her right arm, and held it tightly with my right hand. Fiona was face planted into the bed with her arms criss-crossed behind her back, and I had an unbreakable grip on both wrists. There was no escape for the powerless Fiona. Now I started thrusting for real into Fiona's asshole, and I pulled against her firmly bound criss-crossed arms for leverage on each thrust. I savagely drove into her ass, and the mere force of my hips slamming against her ass compressed her lung cavity, causing her to involuntarily bark out a grunt on each thrust. I felt -- and I could even hear -- my ball sack slapping against Fiona's pussy on every stroke. I ass fucked Fiona mercilessly, and I soon heard her bark-grunts grow louder.

My balls began churning for the third time this morning, and that prompted me to drive even harder into Fiona's ass. Her bark-grunts gave way to shouts. I was surprised how quickly my balls went from lightly churning to explosive. As I ruptured into Fiona's ass, I clamped my fingers even harder around her wrists, and I pressed one, long, hard thrust as deep as I could while I pulled her arms back toward me. Fiona let out a long groan of satisfaction as I unloaded wave after wave into her bowels. I know it is only teaspoons, but in the insane intensity of this orgasm, I was certain I pumped gallon after gallon up her invaded anus.

After I expelled my last gallon, I released Fiona's wrists and pulled out. "Holy fuck!" Fiona cried out. "You're a fucking animal!" I laughed at the different ways I could interpret that sentence.

I gently rolled Fiona onto her back and I straddled over her. I leaned forward and slipped my hands behind her neck, and I lowered my body onto hers, and I hugged her firmly. She returned my cuddle by wrapping her hands tightly around my shoulders, and we stayed embraced that way a long time. "I need a shower," I finally said.

"Me too," she admitted. We took a shower together. After our shower I shaved while Fiona brushed her hair and did her makeup. As we dressed I realized we had slept in. It was one in the afternoon when we stepped into the common room of our hotel suite. Caitlyn, Bailey, and Hannah (Fiona called them the disco sisters) were there in various states of undress watching TV. The room service guy from last night was also there. I presumed Jocelyn and Andrei were in their bedroom. Fiona quietly poked her head in their door a moment, and reported Jocelyn and Andrei were both asleep.

The mess in common room amounted to a small disaster. I told the disco sisters to get dressed and tidy the room -- from what I could tell it was mostly their muddle. They got up from their couches, put their dance club clothing on from last night, and took the next fifteen minutes to clear out all the garbage and clutter. I realized their attire from last night wasn't exactly Saturday afternoon appropriate. Instead of going out for lunch, I decided to order room service, and we would sort out our day after lunch. While the disco sisters cleaned up the room, I called down and asked room service for some croissants with butter and jam, coffee, burgers, smoked salmon, a cheese plate, a fruit and vegetable plate, and an assortment of Danishes -- I covered all the bases.

The AWOL room service guy from last night (turns out his name is Mike) got nervous when he heard room service was on its way -- I told him he could hide out in our bedroom when our food arrived. He seemed especially smitten by Bailey, and appeared to have developed a lost-puppy crush on her.

Now the TV was playing a tune from a program. "What show is that?" I asked Hannah. It was a show called Doctor Who, whatever that was. Another medical show, like House, I presumed, except it depicted a blue telephone booth bouncing around an electronic tornado. The theme music sounded eerily familiar, but I couldn't place it.

I went into Jocelyn's room -- she and Andrei were still fast asleep in their bed. I woke them up and told them to join us in the common room for lunch in half an hour.

Over lunch everyone else engaged in an animated recounting of Fiona's run-in with tall-boy at Spankies. The disco girls, Andrei, and Mike knew nothing of the incident, so Jocelyn and Fiona excitedly shared every last detail from their separate perspectives. They also relished at how we scored with all the free Champagne, Chardonnay, and drinks at Spankies.

By now, the story of my intervention had grown to epic proportions. The girls simply didn't remember, or perhaps were never aware of, the decisive role the refrigerator tuxedoes played. In the girls' storyline, the tuxedos stepped in only after I took care of business. If you considered being pile driven to the floor as taking care of business, I suppose they were right.

I was really quite embarrassed, and I felt uncomfortable taking undue credit for a pathetically executed rescue mission riddled with rookie mistakes. Fiona and Jocelyn misinterpreted my discomfort for a rare moment of modesty, which only fanned the flames of my heroism status. Then Fiona mentioned the bruises on my legs, and she insisted I drop my pants to show everyone. When I realized I wasn't going to get out of there without a peep show, I stood up and lowered my trousers to my ankles, and they all gasped at the ugly colors and sizes of the bruising on my knees and thighs. I had to admit they looked awful. My battle scars summarily vaulted me to a semi-god standing.

After lunch we discussed our plans for the rest of the day. I told the disco sisters I would hire a car to take them home. Fiona and Jocelyn wanted to enjoy a spa treatment. Mike remained silent -- I think he secretly hoped Bailey would take him home, perhaps forever, but he didn't have the nerve to act on his desires. I welcomed a quiet afternoon to relax and read my book. Fiona, Jocelyn, and I planned to rendezvous at six that evening in the hotel suite.

Andrei said he had to go home and change before he went back to work. He then remembered to thank me for the generous tip I left him at Spankies. He kissed Jocelyn a long goodbye, and left.

I walked the disco sisters to the hotel lobby and asked the concierge to hire a cab to take them home, and charge the fare to my room. Before we left our suite, Mike waved a pathetic goodbye to Bailey. As we waited in the lobby for the concierge to arrange the taxi, I told the disco sisters to do one more cheer, just like last night. We all put our hands together on a table. I told them to remember they had a great time, and they would like to do it again sometime. I removed the skip. I asked the three girls for their phone numbers, and I programmed them into my cell phone. I kissed each girl on the cheek and I watched them walk out the hotel front door and climb into the waiting cab.

On my way back up to the suite, it hit me -- I know where I had heard that Doctor Who theme song before. The first time I jumped Fiona, long, long ago, I made Fiona give some clerk from a grocery store a blowjob, and while she blew him, he sang that tune.

When I got back to our suite, Mike was gone.

Fiona, Jocelyn, and I enjoyed a tamer Saturday night -- dinner and drinks. We were all pretty tired from the late hours and escapades of Friday night. Fiona and I were asleep by midnight.

Andrei joined Jocelyn after his work at the West of Lenin, and he stayed overnight in her room again. No one had any delusions -- Andrei knew he would never be on the long term menu -- he was a weekend special.

On Sunday morning Fiona, Jocelyn, and I took massages from the spa, and then we drove back home Sunday afternoon with our Champagne and Chardonnay. Back in the condo, Fiona and Jocelyn thanked me for such a perfect weekend with a peck on the cheek from each of them.

It had been a perfect weekend. We blew off a big load of steam on Friday night, and the girls had a story to tell for it. The time we took to relax on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning rounded out the weekend nicely. By the time we arrived home on Sunday evening, we felt rested from a great adventure.

And so we were in high spirits as the three of us drove to meet Jason Braggs at M.B. Security Services on Monday morning. We arrived ten minutes early. The receptionist took our coats and led us to an interview room, which was sparsely appointed with new furniture. I noticed several empty plastic trash cans around the room, and wondered if we would be using any of them.

I recognized Jason the instant he stepped into the room. I had to check my instinct to greet him warmly as a long, lost friend, as I know Don would have. Jason sat behind a desk and the three of us sat across in separate chairs. I sat in the middle. The desktop was bare except for a telephone.

Jason looked at Fiona, and then to Jocelyn.

"Okay," Jason admitted, "we were all standing when we were introduced, so you need to help me out already. Which one of you is Jocelyn."

"I am," said Jocelyn, to my right -- closest to the door.

"Alright, Jocelyn." Jason looked right at Jocelyn and began speaking. "So I have read everything you put in your documents -- you provided a very thorough accounting. I want to thank you for that -- it saves us a lot of time.

"I also want to tell you, I called Detective Juliotte of the San Antonio Police Department. He is the one who spoke with you. I also spoke with his supervisor, Lieutenant Mancy." Just like I remember him, Jason wasted no time -- he dove right in and got to the point in a hurry. "After reviewing what information they were prepared to share with me, I agree with them that there is a credible threat against your life." Jason stopped and let that sink in.

"Having said that, there is a bit of a good news -- bad news thing going on here. I have already delivered the bad news," Jason paused for a moment. "The good news is that I, and the San Antonio Police, believe that the threat is diminished, but not zero, while you remain here."

"What does that mean," Jocelyn asked.

"It means," Jason replied without hesitating, "that you made an exceptionally smart move to leave San Antonio. It also means that, while you are somewhat safer here, you are not out of danger altogether. So it stands to reason that we need to take precautions no matter where you are."

"Okay," Jocelyn was following it well. "What precautions."

"First, I need your cell phone."

That's where I jumped in. "I already took her cell phone and sent it to Kill-O-Bytes. I gave her a replacement with a new local number."

"That's good," Jason said. "I need her new cell phone." Jocelyn surrendered the new cell phone I recently purchased to Jason.

"Next, we are going to sit down with you and remap your footprint," Jason said. "What that means," he continued, answering her unasked question, "is we are going to hide your location and existence from anyone who might be trying to find you. We'll get into details later, but in effect, your physical and mailing address, your email, telephone, web presence, texting, credit cards, banking, loyalty and reward programs -- everything -- will change, and anyone trying to find you will hit a dead end. The only think we can't change is government ID, like your driver's license, and we don't care about that -- everyone already knows your San Antonio address.

"Next, we are going to do some monitoring for you. You are going to notice some changes in the freedoms you used to take for granted, such as" he didn't wait for Jocelyn to ask, "people you associate with, people you invite over for dinner or parties, people you go out to see."

Jason asked "Are you employed or at school?"

"No," Jocelyn answered.

"Does your financial situation permit you to remain unemployed for an extended period of time?"

Jocelyn hesitated. "Yes," I answered for her.

"Excellent," Jason observed. "This is getting easier by the minute."

"Okay, I'm nearly done here. There is a lot of work you need to do with my staff, and I assure you, Jocelyn, that I will remain closely involved in this case. You and I will be in touch regularly. There are a lot of details that we need to take care of right away, and I have highly qualified and reliable staff who will do that."

"Okay," Jocelyn was taking it all in.

"One more thing, then," and Jason now turned his attention to Fiona. Here it comes. "Everything I just said about Jocelyn -- all the precautions, measures, activities -- everything -- also applies to you."

"What!" Fiona breathed with an open jaw. She recovered, and then said "I don't see ..."

"Fiona," Jason cut her off. "Let me tell you what you are thinking the nightmare scenario is right now." Jason waited to get everyone's attention. "You are thinking the worst case scenario is some bad dude rides into town, kills Jocelyn, and you are left with a dead sister."

"Yeah," Fiona said in her 'like duh!' tone of voice.

"Fiona," Jason pressed on, "that is nowhere close to the nightmare scenario. So here it is. Some dude rides into town, waits outside your building, and sees Jocelyn walk out of the building. He looks at his picture of Jocelyn, verifies he has the right person, shoots her dead, and goes back to Texas. Then," Jason pressed on, "when he gets back to Texas, he reads in the newspaper someone called Fiona was killed, not Jocelyn."