The Life of Jacque Part Five (special preview)

“Jacque! What the hell are you doing?” She scoffs at me. 

I drag her to a tent that’s not in use and I kiss her, hard. She moans softly and her lashes flutter. It’s been a long time for both of us. “Jacque, stop, we can’t-” I kiss her again and she grabs my face. “Jacque no-” I kiss her again and she presses her body to me. I hike up her skirts and sit her down on the card table. 

I reach under her skirts, my fire only stoked higher when I find she’s not wearing panties. I rub her folds, teasing her clit as she starts to moan. 

“I saw how he danced with you,” I snarl. “I saw how he looked at you.”

“Who?” She whimpers, clinging to the table. “Oh fuck...yes,” she groans, rolling her hips as my fingers slip inside her. “No, wait,” she came back to her senses for a brief moment.

I kneel down, shoving my head between her thighs. Her fingers tangle in my hair and she crows with pleasure. “Oh shit,” she gasps and cups her hand over her mouth. I lick at her, tasting my favorite flavor for the last eighteen years. I suck on her lips and shove my tongue inside her, I tease her clit and kiss it hungrily. 

I sit up, opening my pants and pulling her hips towards the edge of the table. She kisses me, throwing her arms around me as out mouths open. I push inside her, filling her dripping slit. My hands on her hips were her only warning of my sudden plunge.

“Fuck!” She cups her her hand over her mouth and moans still as I thrust deep inside her. She falls back against the table, gripping the sides as I drive myself into her. She bites her lip to keep her voice down even as she slips her hand between her legs to rub her clit. I watch her fingers swirl around and rub then glance to the angry, desperate expression on her face.

Her back arches off the table and her fingers rubs harder. I bury myself inside her, slamming hard against her. Her thighs slap to my stomach and we’re both groaning and growling. She throws her head back, crying out with a choked voice. 

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop.” She grinds her hips in rhythm with mine, pushing me deeper, forcing me to go harder. She tugs me down, kissing me with an open mouth. She sucks my tongue and pulls off my shirt. She kisses my chest, running her fingers down through my body hair.

I used to be lean and tight, now I had a soft gut and I might as well be considered an A cup. I know Mirian has complained about her body, saying she’s sagging in place that were tight, and growing in places that were trim. To me though, I still love her body. The stretch marks on her belly from carrying Bridget are a secret favorite of mine. Her hips now have a season sway that is both terrifying and sexy.