Page 131 of S is for SEX

His hand gripped my neck, forcing my head to the side. As his mouth pressed to mine, his hand grasped my neck tighter. Our tongues tangled together became yet one more thing my mind had to dissect, and it was beyond full of sensations, feelings, and his previous shallow demands.

Kissing Jackson was beyond pleasurable, and almost incapable of putting into words. As he continued to kiss me deeply and squeeze my neck, my pussy began to throb from deep inside.

It was coming.

He clenched my neck a little tighter as he bit my upper lip.

And that was it. I began to shudder from head to toe. I raised myself onto my tip-toes and moaned into his mouth. He released my lip from his teeth, turned my head to face forward, and growled into my ear.

“Scream, you sexy little bitch. Let it out,” he growled into my ear as he thrust himself into me.

“Whaaaaat…”

“The…”

“Fuck…” I bellowed into the room as the equivalent of small electric shocks pulsated throughout my body.

His hand still gripping my neck, he turned my head to the side and kissed me deeply. As I continued to have more slight mini-orgasms with almost each slowly decreasing stroke of his cock, he proceeded to kiss me.

After a few more strokes, I was done. It was obvious he realized it, as he stopped fucking me at the exact time my pussy went into some hyper-sensitive state. As he flopped free of my throbbing muff, he leaned to the side and gazed into my eyes. As I did my utter best to force myself to smile, he picked me off of my feet and plopped me onto the countertop.

And it was at that moment, while he stood directly in front of me gazing into my eyes, his body covered in sweat, muscles tensed, chest flaring from his heavy breathing, and his biceps still littered in the soil from our having planted flowers together, that I realized I wasn’t only being fucked by Jackson Shephard.

I was deeply in love with him.

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