#SSceneC2017 : Final 16 – Jeanne St James vs Gail Kogar @JeanneStJames @Askole

Posted October 16, 2017 by Nix in Active Giveaway, Sex Scene Championship 2017 / 1 Comment

Needing Him – Jeanne St. James

Author Links : Website | Twitter
Buy Links : Amazon | £0.78/$1.01

The heat of his body touches me, along my legs, my ass. He’s right behind me, close. My heart pounds faster as I now think I’m going to finally get what I want, what I need.

When he strokes my back with his long fingers, I sigh. His touch is soothing but stimulating at the same time. My nipples long for those fingers, my pussy clenches for his cock. He continues to brush his fingers along my skin, down my spine, over my ass cheeks, up the cleft of my body, only lightly brushing my labia, my anus, as he moves up all the way to the back of my neck. Then he snags a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, bowing my neck. He leans over me as he sucks on the skin at the side of my throat. His teeth rake gently against my flesh, his erection presses against my slick, plump lips. Just a shift…

A shift and he’ll be inside me. I’m tempted to push and press to encourage, but again… I want to obey and he has not given me permission… yet.

Not yet.

So, I remain in place, I remain where he wants me as he tugs on my hair, traces the curve of my ear with his tongue, back down my neck, down the center of my spine, until he reaches the cleft of my ass again. He doesn’t stop there.


With a shock, he circles my tight rim with his tongue, flicks, teases me there and I can’t help but groan. My former encounters have been boring, nothing like this.

I have never had any man approach me there.

Not there.

But, the more he licks and kisses, and prods, the more I relax, appreciating his skill. Until he releases my hair abruptly and separates my ass cheeks, and I hear him make a noise. One of appreciation.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

He makes me feel just that. Beautiful. Even in this vulnerable position.

He’s right about intimacy and communication.

His words make me trust him, make me open to him. His touches, as well.

“Do not move your hands. Separate your knees a little more. Not too much. That’s it. Right there.”

And then he’s quiet… because his mouth is against my mound, pressing against my clit, his tongue plays with me, circling, flicking, stroking my sensitive nub. I struggle to remain still. To keep my hands and knees in place.

I want to drop to my back, grab his head and hold him in place as he eats me until I come. With or without his permission.

But I don’t. I play his game.

I wait.

His tongue, his mouth, then his fingers, draw me to the edge. I’m close to coming and I can’t. Not yet. I haven’t been told to come yet.

I hope it’s soon.

My nipples are hard and aching, my anus clenches, almost in need, and my pussy throbs as he tastes all of me, savors it, savors me.

He groans against my swollen flesh and the vibrations make me whimper. I bite my lip to contain it.

I’m on the edge of orgasm but he hasn’t told me to let go yet and I struggle to convince my body to behave. To wait.

“Not yet,” he says, as if he can read my mind. But he can’t, he’s probably just reading me, my body. “Soon, but not yet.”

He shifts and reaches for the items on the nightstand. Within seconds, I feel the cool gel of the lube against my heated flesh. It dribbles down the crack of my ass, and with his thumb, he massages it around the rim. More drips, more circles made. And then pressure.

Not his mouth this time. No. A finger, long, strong, determined to take my virgin ass.

Slowly, he works the digit to the first knuckle, past the tight ring. Then the second knuckle and I’m blown away by a sensation I’ve never felt before. One I never thought I’d ever want or need.

But I want this. I need this. It’s like this man knows everything I need. Everything I crave.

Then he’s moving inside me with a rhythm that could very well drive me mad. And when he buries his mouth against me again, sucking my flesh between his lips, his teeth, I almost scream “pineapple.” Because I can’t take any more and not climax.

His torture is not allowing me to come. And I can’t ask him, I can’t beg.

I’m not allowed.

He must allow it.

I need him to say it.

But his mouth is full of my sex, my sensitive flesh, and he’s not saying anything.

I want to give up.

I want to scream for mercy.

I’m done.

I’m done.

I’m done.

“You may come,” he says so softly that I almost think I imagine it. And when his mouth finds me again and now two of his fingers fuck my ass, I no longer care if I’d imagined it.

I let go.

My mind spins. My body convulses.

I clench around his fingers and a sound I’ve never heard before escapes me.

A wail. A cry of release.


And before the last of the orgasm ebbs away, he’s inside me. Taking me hard, deep, and rough, slamming his hips against my ass. The slapping of our skin, our ragged breathing, and sounds of ecstasy filling the small cabin.

With one hand still working deep in my tight canal, his other grabs my hair again, pulling my head back roughly until my neck can bend no more.

“That’s it, Grace. Ride my cock. Feel me deep inside you. That pussy’s mine. That ass is mine. Your mouth will soon be mine, too. You do not come until I tell you to. Tell me you hear me.”

“Yes, Nick. Yes, I hear you.”

“You fit me perfectly. Like you were made for me. Were you made for me, Grace?”

“Yes. Only for you.”

“Who do you belong to?”

No hesitation. “You, Nick. I belong to you.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” I hiss. Because it’s true, even though I just came, I’m ready to come again. His words, his smooth like butter voice, turn me on like nothing ever before.

It’s insane. But I love it.

This is how I’m meant to be fucked. I’m not meant to be pushed off the cliff, I’m meant to be thrown.

“Are you ready to come again?”

“Yes,” I force myself to say, because thoughts are difficult, words even more so.

“When I say ‘now,’ you will come.”

His fingers curl inside me, stroking, and his cock slams me even harder, deeper until there’s nowhere else for it to go.

He tenses, his body hiccups. Then he groans, “Now,” and I fall with him. Over the edge, into an endless space below. I can’t tell who is throbbing. Him, me, both of us.

I only know one thing…

This was the man I was made for.

Him. And only him.

Game On Askole-Gail Koger

Author Links : Website | Twitter
Buy Links : Amazon | $3.11/2.34

A wicked smile curled my mouth. Sam had taught me a way to bring a man to knees without ever physically touching him. I cradled Tihar’s face between my palms. “Using just my mind, I’m going to show you Earth’s version of a thousand delights. I’m going to give you the blow job of the century.”

“Blow job?”

I quickly scanned for kids. Yay! They were under the bed, sleeping. “You’ve never heard of a blow job?” Color me amazed.


“You’re in for a treat.” I wrapped a mental hand around his penis and squeezed.

Tihar’s eyes widened in surprise and his tentacles stood out from his head.

Using my psychic talents, I stroked his long, hard length faster and faster; while simultaneously licking his testicles like they were my favorite chocolate ice cream. Following Sam’s directions, I worked him into a frenzy by simply swirling the tip of my psychic tongue around his scrotum.

Tihar threw his head back and howled.

For the piece de resistance, I simulated ramming the tip of his dick into the roof of my mouth and gently manhandled his balls.

Shazam! Tihar’s body bowed and shook violently as I launched him into an orgasmic tsunami.

Were his eyes crossed? Kind of looked like it. God, had I maimed him?

For the longest time, Tihar stared blankly as tremors continued to shake his body.

Had I put him into sensory overload? Or a sex coma? I patted his face. “Hello? Anyone home? Gonna add blow jobs to your thousand delights?”

“Yes.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Who taught you that?”

“My cousin Sam. You met her, remember?”

“Yes, Rho took her.” Tihar’s tentacles moved restlessly.

Whew! His eyes were back to normal. “Sam said she learned the technique from a holy woman in India.”

“I cannot believe a holy woman would know of such things.”

I shrugged. “You could be right. Personally, I think Sam picked up that little trick from Jed, her low-down snake of an ex-boyfriend, along with a bad case of genital herpes. He was a big-time man whore.”

“A man whore?”

“Yep, not only did she catch Jed in bed with another woman, he betrayed her to the Coletti. Sam blew up his prized ’68, canary yellow Mustang. Sam’s got a nasty, vengeful streak and so do I. If I catch you in bed with another woman, I’ll cut your pecker off.”

Tihar winced. “You are my chosen. No female can replace you.”

“Good answer.”

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