jack waking you up in the early hours of the morning, four maybe five am; you can feel him before you hear him, tossing in the sheets beside you, turning from that troublesome back of his to his side and then back again, seemingly adjusting and readjusting, more than few times over. youāre not nearly awake enough to care, your body simply takes notice of the divot changes in the bed - with distant awareness, your eyes remain peacefully shut.
eventually he lets out a huff, succumbing to his ache and turning over to your side, his bare body heat entering your space and radiating onto you; as he leans in, heavy and intensely warm is his breath on the hair which curtains your ear. his voice is gritty and sleep ridden, above a whisper and dripping his brahmin accent, āroll on your stomach for me.ā
it takes a few fleeting seconds for the words to even register, barely conscious enough to give a hum of acknowledgement even as you oblige; messily moving and twisting in the linens to be on your frontside, stomach and chest meet the plush mattress below. with his eyes holding only a squint in the low - almost no - light room, his large hand surfs easily through all your maneuvering, finding the small of your silk nightgown covered back and following its soft seams to your equally as satiny thighs, guiding your leg to a 90 degree angle, far enough away from your other for him to fit right inbetween them.
the chill from the duvet falling away and off your body sparks your mind to awaken the tiniest bit more, as it now only comforts from your calves and below, a result of jack settling himself on his knees in the middle of your spread; keeping one hand roaming and kneading at your skin as the other sleepily fumbles to pull himself out of his boxers.
his hard-on pulses and springs out of its cotton cage immediately, its sensitivity already on high, causing him to groan in a low octave as he palms and massages the leaking pre-cum around his tip a few times as a lubricant. steadily gaining consciousness, you peer over your shoulder at him, through hooded lids; the sight of him looming large, with tousled hair and no shirt, his hand to his cock and his sleepy contorting-in-need face cause your anticipation to present in an ever so slight arching back to give him better access, and the rush of arousal liquidating in your center.
your head has fallen back to the pillow and eyes have closed once again as he aligns himself with your opening; he canāt even bring himself to tease you and your rim, as he usually does, heās much too tired, with too much of a craving to even consider playing a game. he enters slowly, his cockhead savoring your all encompassing, sleep-hot tightness. it fills your slick center fully, in deliberation, one long drawn out stroke inside that causes an involuntary soft toned-yet complete sighing moan to fall from your lips.
upon entrance, he gives another rumbling base-of-the-throat groan, with a mumble through gritted teeth, āgod, thatās itā¦ā
heās now put both hands on each of your naked and open hips, gripping with pressure that would typically cause you to squirm, but in this moment, is the second most pleasurable sensation being inflicted upon you. he guides your hips, instead of thrusting his own - a testament to his laziness, regardless of how good he makes you feel - extending and conducting them upward, until heās just a new centimeters from falling completely out of you.
thereās a second of pause; just a beat too long of him holding out, and as youāve got the taste for him now, thereās a flash idea of simply pushing yourself back on him, but before you can even think it all the way through, he drags you back down, with more vigor than that first, sweet stroke.
you yelp, the squelch of his intense re-entering and hitting of your spot just perfectly fills the silent night with a pornographic mist; his breath is shaky and heavy, and though your eyes remain closed and shielded by a mix of hair and cotton from the pillow your face is buried in, you already know he has the most salacious, magnificent, strung out look on his face; knitted scrunched brows, squinting eyes, jaw slack in bliss. jack kennedy is a beautiful man, but never is he more beautiful than when heās seven and a half inches deep inside you.
his hunger seems to overtake any exhaustion he may be experiencing, as he suddenly, almost rudely, quickens the speed at which he moves you; his fingertips burn into your skin, delightfully possessive, grasping the velvety flesh of your ass. the sensation of his relentless in and out is scorching and so filling you canāt possibly contain the noise that escapes through your mouth and nose; itās exactly how he likes it, and if you didnāt already know it, his gnashing ācāmon, let me hear you,ā is confirmation enough.
ājack,ā you sigh out, your forehead digging into the memory foam as your writhe in his hedonism; as he brings you down for a particularly hard and godlike blow, striking your walls to make you see stars, your hand flies from clenching the fitted sheet below you to his hand, which remains firmly planted on your hip. your palm smacks his knuckles and in the same motion, your thumb hooks under his pointer finger, which only just gives way for you; itās such a small, seemingly insignificant, act of intimacy, but somehow bridges a gap between you both.
āi know,ā he answers, panting and moaning - but he doesnāt actually, because truthfully, you donāt know either. saying his name just feels right.
as you tighten the hold of his hand, and he never once falters, you for some reason have the inappropriately timed thought of all the hands that have shook this one - from the greatest political figures of the time to the average american citizen, theyāve all touched it, cradled it, savored it - and yet, none know of itās perversion and dirtiness, that you are the one to ultimately own it. itās this hand that shall mark your body time and time again, completely yours.
your hips begin to move on their own, circling as he heaves them up and down, making sure his tip to shaft reaches every bit of you. his head falls back, now in true heaven, and just as you feel yourself reaching a head, he pants out, ābabyā¦ā
baby, a name you only ever hear right as heās about to cum, indicates to keep going as youāve been - the pace heās chosen works in perfect harmony with your grinding, āplease, jack.ā
everything within yourself suddenly pulls to your center and pushes downward as you reach your climax, unapologetic about the obscene sound pouring from you; the knot in at the bottom of your stomach unravels as a rush of pleasure runs up your back and throughout the whole of your body. jack follows immediately after, bucking up into you with fervor, pulsing and twitching inside you while releasing angelic whimpers only you get to hear.
you both remain still for a passing moment, catching your breaths and reveling in the practical porn you just partook in. jack removes himself from you after less than a minute, nothing short of typical for him; you hiss at the feeling, going from full to barren allows the cold to take jackās place within you. he takes another second-long pause before reaching down and tenderly kissing where his hands have no doubt bruised you - each side of your body gets a drawn out pressing of his lips, nothing short of atypical for him.
he mumbles something that sounds distantly like an i love you, before climbing off the bed entirely, and shuffling to the en-suite bathroom of your shared bedroom. not long after the light has flickered on and the bathroom door has been pushed but not closed entirely, you hear the shower head spurt on and the curtain draw; jack begins his day, leaving you to the tranquility of bed, as he continues to spill out from you in a stream while returning to sleep.
Jack puts him two fingers in your mouth while you fucks you deeply
a/n: sorry I havenāt been writing lately!! hope you like this short story, also not proof read
his fingers curl into your mouth, his digits are long and warm. you wrap your plump lips around his tanned fingers, the small hairs on the end of his fingers brush against your pink lips.
he grunts lowly, his other hand holding your hips pinned down to mattress beneath the both of you. āthatās itā he grunts into your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. your teeth graze against his skin before biting down on his fingers as you hold back a moan.
heās pumping in and out of you, stretching you out almost painfully. his free hand grips your thigh, holding on tightly as he holds you open. āyou can take itā he encourages into your ear. you whimper softly ājack..ā you whisper softly around his fingers.
he grins slightly, pushing his fingers deeper into your wet mouth, curling them against your tongue. heās thick, heavy inside you, making your lower stomach bulge with every thrust. it makes your mouth water.
āIām getting there dollā he whispers between gritted teeth. all you can do it nod your head, too full of him to get anything out from between your lips. with a few more deep pumps and slips out of you, his hand works on his dick before spilling his hot cum on your stomach.
you look up at him with big expecting eyes. āyou wanna come?ā he asks softly, almost teasingly before pulling his fingers from between your lips. he chuckles almost before sliding his wet fingers to your clit.
after jack and jackie spent their two weeks in acapulco, mexico they later went to california to visit paul āredā fay and his wife, anita, known as āthe bride.ā in this footage, the four of them playfully act for the camera, with jack leaning into anita, anita acting flirtatious, and paul appearing jealous.
āWhen asked at a press conference during his 1960 presidential campaign where the most beautiful women came from, his home state of Massachusetts or from Texas, the home of his running mate, he laughed and replied, āWell my wife comes from New York soā¦,ā and crinkled his eyes in glee.ā -Diana & Jackie by Jay Mulvaney
"Jack was so funny. He insisted we go into the Lincoln bedroom first, and despite his bad back he wanted to carry me across the threshold like like a bride. We got into the bedroom and he dropped me on the bedā¦Oh, we laughed so, but then, we went over to our bedroom and he picked me up and had trouble getting us both through the door!"
ā Jackie Kennedy speaking about the Inauguration night at the White House to Walter Cronkite.
2087
germansingergirl
jbbartram-illu
titsay
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