Jessika, my thirty-one-year-old lover, stayed over Saturday night, just as she had Friday, but there was no sex. She offered me another blowjob just as we climbed into bed, but when I suggested we forgo all sexual activity that night, she agreed. The bladder infection she had feared came on fully that evening, and although I had no doubt that she was willing to please me in other ways than intercourse, I also knew she felt miserable.
Mid-morning on Sunday, I took her home. Jessika gave me a long goodbye kiss, and "I love you" almost slipped out of my mouth afterward. But instead, I settled for a follow-up hug and a promise from her to call or text me to let me know how she was doing.
When I returned home after dropping Jessika off at her place, I finished my work for the next week's classes then wrote for a few hours. Jessika texted me a few times during the afternoon and evening, mainly with updates about her condition, which was not worse but also was not better, and her plans to try to see her doctor on Monday. Around 10:00 pm I texted Jessika to tell her goodnight. Her reply was simply an emoji of a pair of lips in a kissing shape, but even that simple, little picture allowed me to go to sleep under a sense of lighthearted contentment.
Monday afternoon, I picked up a call from Jessika.
"Well, it's a UTI alright," she announced without even saying hello.
"Sorry, Jessika," I replied, not sure what else to say.
"My doctor gave me antibiotics for the next five days, and that should clear it up. But, she also told me absolutely no sex for a week to ten days."
"Then no sex it is. And I assume she meant oral and digital as well as intercourse?"
"Yeah, she said no touching at all below the waist. I even asked about anal. She told me it was also a bad idea. So, only blowjobs, hand-jobs, and titty fucks for you for the next week, at least from me."
"Probably not likely from anyone else either," I said offhand before thinking.
"Oh. Well, that's too bad for you, I guess," Jessika responded in a tone that I thought made it clear she was not unhappy about my situation.
"We really do not have to do any of those either," I said after a couple seconds, wanting to bring the conversation back to being about my brunette lover, not anyone else.
"Well, we do on Friday. At least a blowjob, that is. And I need to know if you want your steak before the blowjob, after the blowjob, or during the blowjob. I would offer to do it both before and after, but it is steak and a blowjob day, not steak and blowjobs day."
"You do not have to..."
"Yeah, but I'm going to. So pick your time."
"Before, I guess."
"before it is. Oh, and no coming for you until then. I want a lot on me, like when we made the video. And I need copies of those videos, by the way."
"I have them on password protected and encrypted flash drives. I will give you one Friday."
***
Jessika and I did not talk again on Monday. So, Tuesday morning I texted her to ask if she was feeling okay, and she responded that she was about the same. We did not communicate otherwise, but I was not worried about that. Other than how she was physically feeling, I thought we were both in an emotionally acceptable place in our relationship. Further, I was hoping it might become even more than acceptable soon, especially given that I was starting to believe that my relationship with my twenty-year-old lover, Jessi, might be over. I had not heard from the petite blonde in over a week. Thus, I was surprised when I received a text from Jessi a few minutes before I was set to leave campus for the afternoon.
"Cum by my place. Please. Need U 2 fuck me!"
I stared at the screen, uncertain how to reply, or even if I should. Then another text pinged in on my phone.
"PLEASE! Fingers n vibe no fun. Need U."
Not listening to my own instincts, which were telling me to ignore Jessi's pleas, I texted her back.
"On my way."
***
Jessi answered her door naked, which surprised me not at all. On the drive to her apartment, I had pondered how she would approach my arrival. Part of me thought she would either be wearing just a long shirt or perhaps underwear. But a louder, more assertive part of me knew she would be naked.
"You coming in or are you going to make me stand here and freeze my tits and twat off?" the blonde asked, her voice throaty and her lusty blue eyes as lewd as her nudity.
"I seem to recall you not really caring for that word," I pointed out, not making a move to enter.
"Yeah, but I thought you would appreciate the alliteration, Mr. Warner. Now, you going to come in and fuck me or what?"
"Go put some clothes on and we will talk," I replied, looking away from her, hands in my coat pockets. My nonchalant air was an act, however. I knew I was only seconds away from doing exactly what she wanted me to do, like I always did. And also like always, I knew I would be angry with myself afterward.
Jessi favored me with one of her intense, overlong stares. But as my gaze was still turned from her, I only caught it out of the corner of my eye.
"Don't go anywhere," the blonde snarled before slamming the door.
Letting out a breath I was not aware I was holding, I felt myself relaxing. Jessi had, at least for the moment, chosen my terms instead of hers, and I was sure that was a positive sign for whatever might be left of our relationship. Conversely, I was just as sure that the current situation was not positive for my relationship with Jessika 'officially' becoming more than friends-with-benefits.
But when Jessi opened the door again, several minutes after I was expecting her back, it was clear to me that she had not truly capitulated to my condition. Yes, she was dressed, but in a way that was nearly as overtly sexual as her nudity had been, along with a problematic twist.
The young blonde stood before me wearing a flannel nightgown that I had seen once before, during our Christmas Eve together. It was a nightgown she had worn for years, and it was so small on her that not only was it very short, revealing most of her legs, but also the soft, plaid material seemed molded to every curve of her slender yet feminine body, with the buttons straining to contain even her modest bosom.
And it was not just the nightgown. She had placed her blonde hair into pigtails and had painted her pretty face with sparkling pink and purple makeup that clashed with the nightgown colors but enhanced the image of a woman playing dress up as someone much younger.
"How's this, Mr. Warner?" Jessi asked, pitching her voice higher than it normally was. "I'm dressed all nice and innocent, right? Don't you want to rip this off me and have your way with my young mouth and pussy?"
I considered leaving. I knew I should have. But I did not. Instead, I moved past her, grabbing her hand as I did so and pulling her after me. Once we were both inside, Jessi kicked the door closed, all while never taking those vivid blue eyes off mine.
"So, that got you going, huh?" she purred, pulling me to her for a kiss.
"No," I told her, wanting to mean it. Then my hands were all over her, rubbing and squeezing her breasts and bottom through the thin flannel.
