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A Tale of Two Paramours Ch. 16

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Author’s Note:

I apologize for the length of time between Chapter 15 and Chapter 16 of A Tale of Two Paramours. I have changed jobs and moved 1100 miles since the beginning of the year, and I did not have sufficient time until now to revise this chapter.


The five days following the tumultuous conclusion of the threesome with Jessi and Amara were perhaps the roughest five days of my life. Those days were by far more difficult for me than any time during my divorce. Even with the hell my then-wife put me through, the sense of relief that came from the end of my marriage ameliorated the negative aspects of its termination. However, the aftermath of the threesome fiasco offered no such relief. Instead, it felt like I was in a constant state of almost mourning over what I was sure was the end of my relationship with my twenty-year-old blonde lover, Jessi.

Saturday, the day immediately following the threesome, was the worst day, as I had nothing to occupy my time, and all I did was dwell on what had occurred the night before. Sunday was better, not because I had processed my feelings, but because as morning dragged on into afternoon, I made myself start focusing on preparing for my classes the next day. I believe it was the need to be prepared to teach my classes that allowed me to be able to do anything during that time other than just sit and wallow in my self-pity. I know that both my colleagues and my students must have sensed something was wrong – I was too preoccupied with my internal turmoil for it to have gone without notice – but no one said anything. So, I functioned well enough to make it through my classes, but I knew that I was barely hanging on.

Unfortunately, as much as my workdays helped me concentrate on something else, at least to a degree, my nights threatened to derail everything. I might have slept a total of fifteen hours over the course of five nights. My mind, unless it was occupied by class or other work, was stuck on one thing. Thus, at such times I could not occupy my mind with work, I continuously thought about Jessi and everything I had done wrong.

Of course, the threesome had been a mistake on a variety of levels. I had hurt Jessi. I had let myself be drawn into a situation that could have considerable impact on my life and career. I had taken advantage of an eighteen-year-old who likely had issues of her own. And I had known better the whole time. This last part, along with the fear that I had irreparably damaged my relationship with Jessi, is what weighed on me the most.

Wednesday, the sixth day since the threesome, started out no better than the five days before. After maybe three and a half hours of sleep, I stumbled out of bed, readied myself for the day, went and taught my classes, held office hours, then came back home. Once I was home, I ate a meager dinner then say in my office.

I was trying fruitlessly to lose myself in writing when a text buzzed on my phone. I was expecting it to be from Jessika, my thirty-one-year old brunette lover, as she and I had been in contact throughout the week. Like everyone else, I am sure Jessika could sense something was wrong with me, and unlike everyone else, she might have even been able to guess as to what was the cause of my ills, but her texts had been carefully casual. And although the respite they provided was short, I have to admit that each text from the lovely brunette stood out as a bright spot in my otherwise miserable existence.

This text, however, was not from Jessika. And neither was it from Jessi, whom I had tried to text on a few occasions over the prior five days. Rather, it was from the other party in the disastrous threesome – Amara. I had texted her a couple of days prior to see if she had been in contact with Jessi, but at that time she had not been. However, that had changed, as I found out from her text.

“Finally talked 2 Jessica,” the eighteen-year-old’s text read. “She dropped out of school. She says she’s ok, but IDK.”

My whole body seemed to grow heavier as I read and reread the middle sentence of Amara’s text: “She dropped out of school.” I could not believe that my actions had led Jessi to withdraw from college. In fact, I wondered if it was just something she had said to make Amara feel bad, as I could not believe that she would throw away her education because of what we had done.

To find out for sure if Jessi had withdrawn from school, I logged on to the college’s faculty access portal and did a search for Jessi’s student records. As I waited for the screen with her status to load, I hoped not to see exactly what I did see when the information came up – The twenty-year-old had dropped all her classes.

I buried my face in my hands for several seconds as I internally berated myself for everything I had done that had led the poor young woman to this point. My selfishness had caused a bright by shy student to throw away good money – it was too late for a refund for the semester – for which she worked hard, not to mention poker oyna delaying her education by probably at least six months. And that was, my conscience reminded me, on top of the emotional and psychological damage I had wrought.

After taking several deep breaths, I tried to regain some control over my own emotions. I picked up my phone and texted Amara to thank her for letting me know about Jessi. I also asked her to keep me updated, and she agreed to do so. I then went and took a long, hot shower. I stood in the shower and thought about Jessi until the hot water ran out.

When I had finished drying off and had dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, I returned to my office to retrieve my phone and to turn off my computer. When I picked up the phone, I saw that another text had come in while I had been in the shower. This one was from Jessika.

“Hey Mark, I know this is last minute, and that you’re having a bad week, but there’s something I need to do tomorrow night that I don’t want to do alone,” the brunette had texted.

The text, which had come in almost fifteen minutes earlier, was followed by another text, which read, “And I should let you know this is a friend thing, not a benefits thing.”

A third text had come in about five minutes after the first two, and it read, “Please let me know, OK? It’s important to me. I don’t want to tell it all in a text, but I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I thought about Jessika’s request for a couple of minutes. I was not sure I was up to going anywhere, but by that point I knew Jessika well enough to know that she would not tell me something was important if it was not. In the end, the fact that she was not looking for a sexual encounter, something for which I did not believe I was ready at that point, helped me decide to agree to do whatever it was she wanted me to do.

“I am willing to do whatever I can to help you, Jessika,” I texted to her.

Seconds later, my phone pinged with her response: “Thank you, Mark. I’ll come get you at 7, if that’s ok?”

“That is fine,” I replied, to which Jessika responded with a smiley face.

My curiosity about what Jessika needed me to do with her distracted me from thinking about Jessi for a few minutes, but my relief was short lived. By the time I went to bed, my mind was again stuck on the young blonde.

As with the nights before, Sleep alluded me for most of the night as I tossed and turned and fretted over how my actions had been so deleterious for someone I cared about. And when I did fall asleep, I invariable woke minutes later from dreams of the blonde. In some of those dreams, Jessi was in physical peril, always as a result of my actions. Other dreams were incredibly erotic, although whatever we were doing always ended in disaster. It was with relief that I got out of bed when my alarm went off. I was exhausted, but at least the night of turmoil was over and I could try to focus on my day.

As I went through the motions for my Thursday classes and office hours, my curiosity about what Jessika needed me to do grew. Eventually, I found that I was thinking more about the brunette than her younger, blonde counterpart. I even, to my surprise, found myself smiling a time or two as I thought about my older, curvaceous lover. I would not say it had been a good day, but it had certainly been better than the several that preceded it, and for once I was actually looking forward to the evening, rather than dreading it.

Jessika knocked on my door a few minutes before seven. When I opened the door, I was surprised to see that the thirty-one-year-old looked quite somber. In my mind, visions of a smiling, happy Jessika had helped me drive away many of my thoughts about Jessi. The woman on my porch, though undeniably lovely, was not smiling, although it was clear that she, thankfully, was not angry. Rather, she looked very sad.

“You ready?” she asked, her gray eyes locked on mine.

“Yes,” I replied as I put on my coat and stepped out my door.

Jessika smiled at me weakly, then pulled me to her for a long hug. As she held me tightly against her, I felt as much as heard her sigh deeply. When our hug ended, I kissed Jessika on the cheek and was rewarded with a slightly bigger smile. She reached out and rubbed my arm, then took my hand and led me to her car.

“Where are we…?” I started to ask, but Jessika shook her head.

“I’ll explain everything when we are there. I promise,” she told me.

“Okay, Jessika,” I replied.

“Thanks, Mark,” she said as she opened her car door and sat down in the driver’s seat.

Once I was in the car, Jessika pulled away from my hose. We sat in silence as she drove, and I noticed her eyes, which were continuously on the road, were moist and slightly red. I tried to think of something to say to the brunette, but it was clear she did not want to talk just then, so I did not say anything.

After some time, Jessika pulled onto a gravel road on a vacant lot. From the large tree we parked under, I recognized canlı poker oyna it as the same place Jessika had given me a blowjob a few weeks earlier. For a moment, I thought she might be intending a repeat performance, but even as she opened her door and exited the car, I quickly recalled that she had told me there would be no ‘benefits’ to whatever it was we were doing that night.

Following my lover’s lead, I too got out of the car and walked around to where Jessika stood. She was just staring at what little of the property was visible in the wash of the car’s headlights. Sensing she was upset about something, I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her against my side. In response, the curvy brunette put her arm around my waist and pulled us even tighter together.

“You said you are a part owner of this place,” I said after several seconds of silence. “Last time we were here, I mean.”

“I own it along with my brother and my sisters,” Jessika sighed, sadness permeating her voice. “It had belonged to my little brother. He’d dreamed of building a house on it.”

Her use of the past tense as well as the sorrow infused in her tone led me to ask what had happened.

Jessika took a deep breath and sniffed before answering, “He was killed in a car crash, three years ago tonight.”

With those words, she turned toward me, hugged me tight, and started sobbing against my chest. I stroked her hair and held her as she cried, not saying anything, just being there for her. And even though I had sympathy for her and her grief, I could not help but thinking that on this night, Jessika had wanted me with her over everyone else she knew, and that thought helped lift my personal gloom even further.

“I’ve come out here every year since it happened,” the brunette managed once she had cried herself out. “This is the first time I ever brought anyone, other than family. My older sister came the first year.”

“He left it to the four of you, then?” I asked, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah,” Jessika responded with yet another sniffle. “We were all surprised he even had a will. This place was the only thing in it. He wanted us to have it if something ever happened to him, and he wanted us to build a house here and one of us to live in it.”

“He must have loved it,” I said.

“Oh, he did,” she agreed, with what could have almost been a little laugh. “It was his dream. My dad’s lawyer said the condition to build a house wasn’t binding, but we all feel we should honor it. It’s just that none of us are in the position to do it, at least not yet.”

And with that, Jessika again held me tight and cried. However, this time the tears did not last as long, and it was only a couple of minutes later when she stepped back from me, wiped her eyes, and gave me what appeared to be a weak smile.

“Thank you for coming here with me tonight, Mark,” she said as she reached out and took one of my hands in both of hers. “It means a lot to me.”

“I am happy I could be here for you, Jessika,” I told her, which prompted her to squeeze my hand between hers.

“You’re an incredible person, Mark Warner,” she informed me. “A scholar and a gentleman, as my grandfather would’ve said.”

“Well, the scholar part maybe,” I conceded, “but I think we both know the gentleman part is a stretch.”

“Not from what I can see,” Jessika breathed, stepping closer to me.

I had just begun to lean down to kiss my lover’s full, luscious lips when she stepped back and shook her head.

“I can’t, Mark,” she sighed. “I’m sorry. Will you please drive me home?”

“You drove your car…” I started to point out, but the Brunette cut me off.

“I just don’t’ feel up to driving,” she advised me. “I’ll give you directions if you don’t remember how to get back to my place.”

About twenty minutes later, I parked her car near her apartment and walked her to her door. I leaned in and kissed her cheek, intending to leave as soon as she was safely inside her apartment; however, Jessika grabbed my hand and pulled me inside with her.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” she told me as she led me to the couch. “Can we just sit and watch a movie or something?”

“Could we maybe order something to eat?” I asked. “I did not have any dinner.”

“Oh shit,” Jessika blurted out. “I’m sorry, Mark. I did not even think to tell you to eat before I came to get you.”

“It is okay, Jessika,” I assured her. “You had other things on your mind.”

“It’s not,” she disagreed. “I have some leftovers I could heat up for you. We can eat in here, if you like.”

“That would be fine,” I told her as I sat on the couch.

A few minutes later, Jessika came back with a plate of pasta and chicken covered in marinara sauce and a bottled water. She set then on the coffee table in front of me, gave me a smile, then returned to the kitchen. She was back seconds later, a bottle of wine and a wine glass in her hands.

“I ate a little something internet casino earlier,” she said as she sat next to me. “Do you mind if I have a little wine?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “Do you want to find something to watch on TV?

“Right now, I’d just like to sit here with you,” she answered, pouring herself a glass of wine.

“That is fine with me,” I responded.

As I ate, Jessika drank her wine. We did not say anything, since I was eating and she was obviously thinking, but it was not at all awkward. It struck me, as Jessika smiled at me before pouring herself a second glass of wine, that the emotional part of my relationship with the brunette, whether it was friendship or something else, as I sometimes thought it might be or could be, was growing as strong as the sexual part.

When I was done eating, Jessika took away my plate and the bottle of wine. She left her half-empty wine glass and my bottle of water. When she came back, she suggested we could watch something on TV. She then snuggled up against me and put her head on my shoulder. As I slowly stroked her hair, I noticed that she made no move to turn on the TV to find something to watch.

After several minutes of silence, Jessika said, “Josh, my brother, would’ve been so happy I left me ex. He never liked him.”

“Your ex sounds like a total asshole to me,” I agreed.

The brunette sat up and looked at me, a bemused expression on her lovely face.

“That comment seems a bit out of character, Mr. Warner,” she smiled. “I mean, other than dirty talk, I’ve never heard you say anything remotely like that.”

I shrugged and replied, “It seemed like the most appropriate term, given what you have told me.”

“My brother would’ve liked you I think,” she said, and as the words left her mouth, her gray eyes were again heavy with sadness.

Jessika looked down for several seconds, and when she looked back up, I saw moisture in her eyes, but the sadness had mainly left them.

“He might not’ve liked the casual sex part that much, however,” she told me. “He was very protective, especially considering he was more than a year younger than me.”

I was not sure what to say, but I was saved from trying to come up with anything when Jessika, who had been staring at me, put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. As I kissed her back, she began rubbing my penis through my jeans. Before long, I was fully hard.

“I want to suck that hard cock of yours, Mr. Warner,” she whispered in my ear after we had broken our kiss.

“I thought you said no ‘benefits’,” I pointed out, worrying that she might not really be up to what she seemed to be starting.

“I changed my mind, Mark,” she breathed. “But no rough stuff – not tonight.”

“No rough stuff,” I agreed right before I pulled her to me for another long kiss.

As we kissed, I ran my hands up her torso and along the sides of her magnificent breasts. I then moved my hands inwards and squeezed and massaged her chest. As I did so, Jessika moaned through our kiss, and began to squeeze my erection through my pants.

In almost no time, my lover’s thick nipples, which I could feel through the layers of her sweater and bra, were as erect as I was. I pinched and pulled at them through those layers even as Jessika began to quite aggressively rub my denim covered shaft.

Wanting access to the soft skin and hard nipples of her bosom, I reached down and began pulling the brunette’s sweater up. She aided me by lifting her arms so I could easily pull the garment up and off of her. Then, while I kissed the slightly tanned swell of her breasts above her bra, she reached behind her and unhooked it. In a heartbeat, she had pulled it off and tossed it aside as I began to lick and suck in turn each of her hard nubs.

“God I love it when you play with my boobs, Mark,” Jessika purred as I softly nibbled her left nipple while gently pinching her right one between my thumb and finger.

“They are magnificent breasts,” I grinned at her, “and it is very fun – and arousing – to play with them, especially your fantastic nipples.”

“I’ve told you many times you don’t have to flatter me to get sex, Mark,” my curvy paramour moaned.

“And I have told you, Jessika, that it is not flattery,” I replied. “It is the truth.”

The brunette locked her smoldering grey eyes on mine and stared at me, her lips slightly parted, her breathing growing more rapid. Keeping my gaze focused on her, I deliberately licked and sucked each of her protruding nipples, making sure they were both glistening.

“Make love to me please, Mark,” Jessika pleaded as she lay back on her couch.

I almost pointed out that she had mentioned earlier that she wanted to suck on me, but I stopped myself, realizing how selfish that would be. Instead, I stood up and pulled off my sweater and t-shirt. I then kicked off my shoes, pulled off my socks, and dropped both my jeans and my underwear. As I stepped out of them, the curvy woman on the couch wiggled out of her jeans and panties so that she was completely naked, then she lay back on the couch, her legs spread as much as the cushions on it would allow.

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