Sweet Jane: An Amnesia Story of Being Lost, and Then Found

by Abby Knox

She gasps and lets out a little moan when I cup her soft mound.

  She’s biting her lip and it’s so damn hot. “Here, let me,” I say, taking her lips in mine and nipping gently. Her body arcs into mine in response.

  “I love when you bite that lip of yours, but you don’t have to hold back when you’re with me. In fact, I don’t want you to.”

  “Every time you touch me I’m so turned on I want to scream.”

  I add some pressure on her bare pussy and she moans. She gets louder when I massage her there. When I slide my fingers into her folds, she’s absolutely soaked for me.

  “Oh my god, Shep!”

  “That’s not even the best part, sweetheart,” I say as I let go and dip my head between her thighs. I taste her lower lips and she’s soon moaning so loud that I’m grateful I don’t share any walls with neighbors.

  “I’m going to come too soon if you keep doing that,” she says, breathlessly.

  “Baby, that’s fine. You let go whenever you need to, ’cause I’m going to make you do that again and again, all night long.”

  I worship every inch of her sex, memorizing each fold, every slick curve, every honeyed corner.

  “All for me,” I say as I gently suck on her clit.

  She hits the roof and lets loose with a scream that comes all the way from her toes.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes, Shep!” If I didn’t know any better I think she might levitate off the bed, she’s arcing so hard into me with every sound. Her pussy convulses and releases more of her essence on my tongue. I swallow every drop she gives me.

  While she’s still overcome by what I just did to her, I share her sweet honey with her mouth.

  She claws my back and her legs have me in a vise while she rides out the aftershocks.

  I trace kisses along her neck, across her collarbone, over her breasts and nipples.

  “Shep,” she whimpers. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  I think of nothing but giving her what she wants, and I slide the tip of my aching cock inside her.

  “More,” she demands, gripping my face and crashing into me with a hungry kiss. I push in deeper and feel the barrier of her hymen in my way.

  “You ready for this? It might hurt.”

  “Nothing can hurt me,” she says, anchoring her calves together at the small of my back. “Not when I’m with you,” she says.

  I hoist myself up on my forearms so I don’t crush her while I push in all the way. There’s a slight resistance and then I’m inside her completely.

  She cries out. “I’m so full of you, Shep. It feels like you’re inside every part of my body. Don’t ever pull it out.”

  I gaze in wonder as I blaze a trail of sloppy kisses down her sternum, taking one whole areola in my grateful mouth. She sucks in her breath.

  Then something she said wakes up some distant, logical part of my brain. Pull it out.

  I can already feel the pre-cum.

  I let go of her breast and she squirms under me. “Don’t stop,” she breathes.

  “Baby, I forgot a condom.”

  She grips me tighter with her legs. “Don’t you dare.”

  “I can pull out if you prefer.”

  “Nope.”

  I don’t think twice about what she’s suggesting. I just go with it.

  My life is too structured anyway.

  I slide out slowly, sensuously, letting her sex memorize every ince of my cock. And thrust back into her, making her cry out. “You’re so nice and warm and tight, my cock was gonna be real angry if I had to take an intermission to get a condom anyway.”

  Her eyes roll back in her head. “Holy shit.”

  “You like that?” I pull almost all the way out and sheathe myself back into her. She cries out and starts to claw at me again.

  “I want you closer to me,” she says. “Come down here.”

  Instead I pull her to me and sit upwards, cross legged, so she’s in my lap.

  Jane gasps in surprise but she’s smiling. Our legs are wrapped around each other and she’s fully wrapped in my arms at the same time.

  “You seem like you have some energy to burn, so why don’t you take the wheel?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jane

  I’d never even thought about doing it face to face, sitting in his lap.

  The intimacy of pressing our bodies together from top to center is so erotic, I can feel another climax starting to surface.

  While we kiss wildly I rock up and down, controlling Shep with my pussy.

  “I love it like this,” I say, clamping down on his massive cock with every upward stroke.

  “My sweet Jane will always have me any way she likes,” he growls.

  We rock together like this until my orgasm spikes again, and it’s even more mind-blowing than the first one.

  I scream out his name, and I’m shocked at how loud I can be when I let go of my inhibitions.

  He joins me in climaxing as my walls spasm around his shaft. He releases his hot streams of cum into me, filling me with his seed.

  “Holy fuck, Jane,” he grits out as I take in all of it.

  We keep hold of each other just like that through wave after wave of pleasure.

  “I love you, Jane,” he says, pressing the side of his face against my breast. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  I sigh and trace a line of kisses along his chocolate-brown collar bone.

  “Impossible to forget,” I say. And it’s true. There’s nothing about him, about us, that I could ever forget.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Jane

  The sun is shining on a warm Friday morning, I’ve got a shade-grown, fair-trade, organic double espresso in my hand (I grab my mermaid-and-unicorn drinks on the sly when I’m on my break time from work).

  And I realize that I’ve completely forgotten something.

  I put the espresso down on the bamboo table next to my lounge chair.

  I look around me. The South Pacific waters are calm this morning. The dock that connects our honeymoon hut to the row of other huts is empty of people.

  I hear movement behind me and I glance up. A shirtless Shep is gleaming, god-like, in this light.

  “I could get used to you like this,” I say. “We should move out of the dreary city and set up a coffee bar on the water right here.”

  Shep straddles the lounge chair next to me. His rippling abdominals make him the only person I have ever witnessed getting into and out of a beach lounge chair gracefully and quickly.

  Too bad I won’t be working on my ab muscles anytime soon.

  “Not enough people around.” He shrugs.

  “You made sure of that, don’t forget,” I say. “You paid way too much to make sure we had no neighbors on our honeymoon. Hell, you even banished Levi and Cherie to the other side of the island.”

  He laughs and takes a sip of his espresso. “Pssh. They have golf carts if they want to visit, and they have a bigger hut than we do.”

  “Good story, bro,” I tease.

  “Hey, you know I didn’t have the heart to make other people jealous when they heard me making you scream like a banshee.”

  I playfully slap him on his shoulder. “Cocky much?”

  Shep leans over and kisses me. It’s long and wet and deep, with promises of delicious things to come. And come and come and come again. As we kiss, the salty breeze rustles the nearby palm trees. I can’t tell if it’s his closeness, the breeze, or my condition that’s making my nipples hard underneath this flimsy hand-knit bikini that I made especially for this honeymoon vacation.

  Probably a combination of both.

  When we stop kissing for a moment, he asks me if I’m not enjoying the espresso he made for me.

  “I forgot to tell you something. I can’t drink espresso anymore. I went to see the doctor and he said one cup of regular coffee per day from now on, but lay off the espresso.”

  Shep doesn’t get it. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “What�
�s going on? Blood pressure? Ulcer? I really wish you had told me you were having some problems. Pops knows the best internist…”

  I shake my head no and put my finger to his lips.

  “I forgot to show you something I made…” I say, digging something out that I’m hiding under a stack of beach towels.

  “What are you talking…”

  Shep’s words falter and his mouth falls open at the sight of what I’m holding out to him: a pair of tiny crocheted booties and matching tiny beanie hat.

  Speechless, he places a hand on my tummy. He looks up at me and he can’t seem to form any words, but his face is like a question mark.

  I nod my head. “It’s happening.”

  Abruptly, my new husband stands up, throws his huge, tattooed arms in the air and howls like he’s just single handedly won the World Cup.

  I laugh and start to cry happy tears.

  He turns to me and he looks like he’s grown about twelve inches, he’s so proud of himself. So has his cock grown about twelve inches, as a matter of fact, as I can see it suddenly straining against his Speedo shorts.

  He seems to have totally lost control of his senses, because in the next second he’s hovering over me, tugging at the cotton strings of my bikini bottoms with his teeth.

  “Shep! We’re in public!”

  This only seems to egg him on even more, and he rips away the bikini bottoms and spreads me wide for him.

  I look around frantically, even though I know there are no people around.

  Then I forget everything else exists as I lose myself in the feel, and the sound, of his mouth devouring me.

  I let go and let it happen, running my fingers through his hair as he has his way.

  He works me into a frenzy, and when I scream out his name, it echoes off the island cliffs in the distance.

  I don’t know what this new little life will bring, but I’m ready to teach him or her everything that Shep has brought out in me. No fear. No shame. No “shoulds.”

  Just goodness.

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  Shep

  Our four-year-old son, Levi, is wowing the weddings guests by pedaling his little vintage red tricycle down the aisle, two rings strung on a rainbow ribbon tied to the handlebars.

  In his seersucker suit and suspenders, he’s dressed exactly like me but I can confirm, he’s getting a much more enthusiastic reception.

  “Nobody swooned and clapped when they watched us walk in a minute ago,” I mutter into my wife’s ear.

  She admonishes me out of the side of her mouth and adjusts her celebrant’s stole over her robe. “Behave yourself.”

  I’m standing with her at the head of the tent as best man. After all this time, I’m proud to be asked to bear witness at Hanley’s wedding to his Bryce.

  It took a while to get to this point. After the guys came out publicly about their relationship, it was a shitstorm. There were arguments, families torn apart, fights, media coverage, death threats, and eventually an investigation into the financials of the compound.

  As the former pastor, Bryce had to spend a lot of time giving depositions to lawyers over the whole mess. Eventually, Jane’s uncle was indicted for tax fraud. The IRS dismantled the entire compound.

  Along with all of that, Jane and I strongly encouraged Bryce and Hanley to go to therapy to deal with all the brainwashing from the cult in which they were raised. Bryce even went so far as to reach out and make amends to everyone who used to listen to his sermons at the compound back in the day.

  After it was all settled and done, Pops and Cherie bought the land back from the government, and the four of us have turned it into a huge community garden, managed by Jane.

  Not only that, but Jane attended seminary and divinity school. She’s now sought out for officiating at weddings for couples who want a moderately spiritual aspect as well as a legal ceremony, but who have been refused by traditional clergy.

  “No internet ordination for me,” she had said to me, and I supported her all the way.

  As for my coffee shop, we now have five stores across the state and are about to go nationwide. Tamira is in charge of operations and I see a CEO position for her in the not too distant future.

  The ceremony flows like a dream; Bryce and Hanley both radiate with so much love that there’s not a dry eye under the tent.

  After Jane pronounces them married, the two of us skip the cocktail hour and slip away to the greenhouse. Little Levi is attached to his Big Poppa, my dad, allowing us to sneak away.

  We walk hand in hand slowly, due to my Jane’s slight discomfort at being hugely pregnant with our girl twins.

  Inside the greenhouse, my wife leads me to the cozy seating area inside a small bird-watching conservatory that she had added on after she took over the farm.

  We sit together on the white cushions and make out amid the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle.

  When she was pregnant with our Levi, she was nauseated for nine months straight. For some reason, this pregnancy has been kind to her and to me. She’s horny as hell.

  “I don’t know what those babies are doing but I’m going to thank them when they come out for making their mother into a sex machine.”

  Jane has already shed her robe and stole, and is down to a short, flouncy maternity dress.

  Jane giggles and kisses down my neck, working on the button at the front of my linen shirt.

  “Don’t do that, that’s highly inappropriate,” she says.

  “Oh, and leaving in the middle of a wedding is appropriate behavior for a minister?”

  “I have to find something to do when I can’t have cocktails,” she says, her hand spreading over the length of my cock.

  “You keep that up we’re going to miss the first dance.”

  She sighs and tugs open the buckle and zipper, lifting my thick, swollen cock in her warm hand. “Uhm,” I grunt at the sensation. I never get tired of my girl’s eager hands on my rod.

  “What if somebody walks in and sees us?” I say.

  She arches one eyebrow at me. “I guess they’ll get a lesson on how to do it pregnant.”

  Jane’s got me worked up with her hands and her lips and her sassy mouth.

  I grit out, “hands on the couch.”

  She assumes the position: kneeling, facing the back of the couch, arms supporting herself on the backrest.

  I get right to it, in case some drunk wedding guest stumbles in here and get an eyeful.

  My hands slide up, moving aside the dress, revealing her bare ass, which has spread thickly and deliciously during the last trimester of pregnancy.

  “You’re not wearing any underwear,” I say, running my hands over her cheeks and downward, cupping her mound from behind.

  She hisses and pushes back into me. “I was hot and nothing fits right.”

  I hold her hips and gently help her bend outward so I have the best angle.

  I cozy up behind her, rubbing my cock over her ass to tease her while I unbutton my shirt.

  She moans. “God, I still love the way you love my ass.”

  I don’t even have to check; I know her pussy is ready for me. She’s never not ready these days. I sink into her from behind and she lets out a loud whimper. Her warm, sticky pussy welcomes me in.

  I thrust gently, carefully, letting her body guide my speed.

  I can hear we’re missing the first dance, but we’ve got our own dance to finish right here.

  We do it slowly, lovingly, while my hands explore the familiar softness of her breasts, the firm, round tummy that nurtures our tiny daughters, the thighs that have thickened and grown even stronger over the years between working outdoors and chasing after our little one.

  Just then the first dance finishes and I hear the deejay playing “Sweet Jane,” no doubt for our benefit.

  I pick up my pace but Jane’s body tames me into keeping my steady, slow rhythm. I sigh in my surrender to her wants. I warm her back with my chest; my body
is a shell around this perfect female.

  “They’re playing our wedding song,” I say to her.

  “They can play it again for us later,” she says, her breathing ragged with need.

  I reach around and trace circles around her clit.

  She cries out my name. “Yes, Shep! So good…”

  My Jane is right, we are so good together. The song’s slow, simmering vibes wrap us in a blanket of love while beyond the glass walls of the conservatory, the sun begins to set.

  “I’m going to remember this moment forever, Sweet Jane,” I rasp as I gently nip the back of her shoulder. At the same time, I squeeze her clit. She screams out her orgasm. The slam of of her body around my cock has me joining her, melding our sweetness together as we come in unison.

  She pulses again and again, so forcefully I’m cursing with every erotic movement that milks me dry.

  My woman is exhausting in the best possible way.

  When Jane is finally able to reply, she breathlessly tells me she remembers every moment of our time together like this.

  “My real life started with you, Shep. My body, my soul will never let me forget.”

  And I believe her.

  THE END

  Coming in February 2019 from Abby…

  Matched for Me

  (an excerpt from Chapter One)

  Fletcher

  “You need me to help with what now?”

  I am standing in the Anderson kitchen cooking breakfast. I don’t cook all the time, but I do enjoy it when my boss and best friend, Lars, requests it. He’s been asking me to cook a lot lately, ever since he and Wendy have been spending most of their time hanging around the house.

  I’m pretty good at having Lars’s back when he throws himself into danger. Taking out that bad guy Slate last month was a close call, though. I don’t mind being home, keeping things running smoothly, handling security, ordering supplies and even cooking.

  My lizard brain whispers to me that my contentment with domestic duties has everything to do with LuLu being home. And I can’t deny that.