by Tia Siren
Jackson, on the other hand, was an unselfish lover.
He focused on pleasing me.
He took his time, giving me pleasure.
It wasn’t all about him. It was about us.
And he loved the dirty talk, which I found hot as hell.
I loved the way his tongue went around my folds and teased my clit and probed deep inside me.
My body was literally on fire.
I had never felt anything like the orgasm that was building inside me with a pressure so great it could blow at any time.
I begged Jackson to fuck me.
I wanted to feel his big cock inside me.
I wanted us to come together.
Jackson got to his feet and our naked bodies melted together. His hard cock pressed into my stomach. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed his ass in my hands, grinding him into me. His lips devoured mine. I could taste my salty juices on the tip of his tongue.
“Turn around so I can fuck your sweet pussy from behind,” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders and giving me a turn. I leaned over his writing desk with my ass sticking out toward him.
He moved behind me.
I felt the tip of his cock at my opening.
I felt my pussy spread to accommodate him.
The head slid easily inside me.
He put his hands on my hips and dug his fingers in.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to fuck you like this? Do you want me to fuck your tight pussy until you scream?”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes… Fuck me…”
“Tell me what you want.”
I felt him slide in a little more.
“I want you to fuck me, Jackson.” I sighed and wiggled my ass at him. “Please, shove your big cock into me. Please. I can’t stand the anticipation. Fuck me now.”
“I’m going to hammer that sweet pussy,” he said, sliding in another inch.
“Yes… hammer your cock into me…”
“You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
Another inch.
“Yes.”
“You want me to bang the shit out of your tight little box and make you come.”
Another inch.
“Yes, Jackson, please… Now… Fuck me now!”
I felt his fingers tighten on my hips, and with one great thrust, he impaled me with his cock. It pushed the breath from my lungs.
Jackson was true to his word. He started banging his cock into me with such force that my entire body shook with every thrust.
My tits were pressed into the desk.
I felt the cool wood as my nipples moved over it.
“I love your pussy,” Jackson moaned as he hammered into me. “So young, so fucking tight.”
“Fuck me…oh god... I’m cumming… Jackson…I’m cum… Cum with me, Jackson… Cum…”
I closed my eyes and held my breath as I felt him explode inside me, filling me with his hot, milky seed.
I came at the same moment.
I felt my juices flowing over him, covering his cock and balls and running down the back of my leg.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Jackson
I couldn’t believe how tight her fucking pussy was.
It clenched around my cock like warm, wet fingers, squeezing me, milking me with every move, in and out.
By the time she said, “Cum with me, Jackson,” I was already there.
I dug my fingers into her hips and gave her one last thrust and exploded inside her like a roman candle on the Fourth of July.
I felt her ass shudder against me as she came at the exact same moment. My cock emptied itself inside her and she responded with a wave of hot juice that flowed from her pussy like a raging river.
We stood there for a minute, motionless, panting, sweaty, a hot, gooey mess.
Then she looked over her shoulder at me and smiled.
Somehow, I knew my muse had returned.
The blank page would taunt me no more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Amy Lynne
I couldn’t help it. I had a stupid smile on my face like I didn’t have a care in the world.
And there was one person responsible for it: Jackson Ritter.
That had been the most amazing sexual experience of my life. Jackson made me feel all warm and cozy inside, and sexy and desirable, and just a little bit dirty.
I liked dirty.
Dirty made me smile.
Dirty made me wet.
Dirty made me cum.
We got dressed and Jackson gave me a gentle kiss. He told me to go to bed. I asked if he was going to bed, but he said not just yet. He wanted to write for a while.
There was a look in his eyes I’d never seen before. A faint glow, like a candle burning in the distance on a dark night. I kissed him softly and said good night.
* * *
I was a little nervous when he came down the stairs the next morning with Lizzie in his arms. I mean, how did you act around your boss the morning after he banged the shit out of you on his desk? Maybe I needed a copy of the nanny handbook. Surely there was a whole chapter on such things.
“Morning,” Jackson said with a sleepy smile. He set Lizzie in her high chair and I slid a plate of pancakes in front of him. He stabbed two and dragged them to his plate.
“Morning back,” I said, pouring two cups of coffee. I sat down across from him and gave him a look. He was wearing the same clothes from the night before, and his eyes looked bloodshot and tired.
I watched him from over the top of my cup and asked, “Did you work all night?”
“I did,” he said with a smile. “Didn’t sleep a wink.”
I’d never seen anyone so happy to have worked all night with no sleep.
“Did you write?”
I held my breath and waited for him to answer.
“I did,” he said again. He chuckled and made a goofy face. “In fact, I wrote a lot.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, clapping my hands. Lizzie clapped her hands and squealed.
“I think my new muse is working,” he said, smiling at me with his eyes. “In fact, I think I have two muses now.”
He gave me a wink and doused his pancakes in syrup. Then he sliced off small bites for Lizzie. He glanced at me as he held out a bite for her.
“What are you ladies up to today?”
I stuck a big bite of pancake in my mouth and washed it down with the coffee. Wiping my lips on a napkin, I picked up the grocery list I’d been making and said, “Well, we are almost out of everything, so I thought Lizzie and I would go to the grocery store. There’s a new Food King over in Madison that I thought we’d check out.”
“The FoodMart is closer,” he said, chewing. “Why not just go there?”
Because my asshole ex-husband, Randy, is the manager there.
That was what I thought, but not what I said.
I just smiled and gave him a little shrug.
He watched my boobs bounce beneath my T-shirt.
“I like trying new things,” I said, winking at him. “Don’t you?”
“Oh, I do,” he said, licking the syrup from his lips. “I definitely do.”
* * *
I felt like a real mommy as I sat Lizzie in the shopping cart seat and fastened the little safety belt around her waist. She kicked her legs happily and smiled at me.
“Ride?” she asked.
“Yes, ride,” I said, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek with my nose. I tugged the shopping list out of my back pocket and handed it to her. Jackson’s credit card was in my other back pocket. “Can you hold the list for me?”
“Yes,” she said with a definite nod. She kicked her legs again. “Ride! Go!”
We had a great time filling the cart with groceries.
It was the first time in my life that I’d gone grocery shopping without worrying about the difference in price between the name brands and the generics, without carrying an envelope
full of coupons, without worrying that my debit card was going to be declined.
Jackson told me to get whatever I wanted, and that was what I did. Lizzie and I spent an hour filling the cart and having a grand old time.
Then I saw him.
He was standing at the front of the store, talking to a young blonde who was manning one of the checkout lanes.
He was all smiles and hands and innocent innuendos.
She giggled at him and brushed a hand down his tie.
He grinned at her, showing her his teeth, like a wolf about to rip out the throat of a lamb.
She gave him a dreamy look, like a lamb who had no idea it was about to die.
God, it all looked so familiar.
I started to duck down the aisle, but he spotted me standing there watching him.
When our eyes met, he frowned at me for a moment, as if he were seeing the ghost of someone he’d murdered long ago.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the cart and squeezed until my knuckles turned white.
He sauntered toward me with his arms outstretched, as if he thought I was going to hug him. When my hands didn’t come up, he let his arms drop to his sides. I saw his fingers curl into fists.
He gave me a fake smile and said, “Amy Lynne? I’ll be damned. Is that really you?”
Yes, Randy, you fucking moron, it’s really me.
I forced a smile to keep from screaming.
“It’s me,” I said quietly. “What are you doing here?”
Randy tapped a finger to the plastic name tag clipped to his shirt. “I’m the assistant manager,” he said proudly. He grinned and held out his arms. “Welcome to my Food King!”
“Wow, good for you,” I said. I felt my lungs collapsing, as if all the air had been sucked into the black hole that was Randy Beck.
I suddenly found it hard to breath.
I said, “Well, we have to go.”
I put my head down and started to push the cart forward.
“Hey, hang on, sweet cheeks,” he said, putting a hand on the cart to keep it from moving. He frowned at Lizzie, who frowned right back at him. She crinkled her nose as if he were a bad smell. Obviously, she was a better judge of people than I was.
Randy stuck out his finger and wiggled it at her.
“Who is this?” He cut his eyes at me. “She’s not… I mean…”
“No, Randy, she’s not yours,” I said, huffing at him. “And she’s not mine. I’m working as a nanny now.”
He huffed right back at me. “You? A nanny? I’ll be damned. I didn’t even know you liked kids.”
“I like kids just fine,” I said. “It’s some adults I have a problem with.”
He grinned at me. I’d never realized it before, but he kind of looked like a rat when he smiled.
“So, you still single? Still living in that shitty little apartment across town?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said. I nodded at the hand resting on the cart. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…”
“If I’ll excuse you?” He chuckled, but he didn’t remove his hand. “Listen to you, talking all uppity and shit.”
He let his eyes go up and down me.
I felt myself shrinking as he looked at me.
“You still look good. I’ll give you that. Fucking anybody these days? Like you were fucking that black deputy who came to my house and threatened to kill me if I ever came near you?”
“I wasn’t fucking him,” I said quietly. “He was my friend.”
“Bullshit,” he said, spitting out the word. “He’s lucky I didn’t whip his ass right there in the front yard. Motherfucker—”
“That’s enough,” I snapped. Lizzie’s eyes widened, and for a moment she looked like she might cry. I held out my hand and she wrapped her fingers around my thumb.
“We have to go,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Now get your hand off the cart or I’ll scream.”
Randy glared at me for a moment. Then he grabbed my arm and jerked me down the aisle a few feet. Lizzie held out her hands for me and whined.
“Listen, you fucking cunt. You can’t come in here acting like you’re better than me.”
He glanced at Lizzie, who was watching us with her hands over her ears. He growled at me. “You fucking her daddy? Is that it? Some rich asshole who’s too busy to take care of his own kid? How about the wife? You fucking her, too?”
“Shut up.”
“That’s the only way a piece of shit like you could get a job as a nanny, fucking your way into it.”
“Shut up,” I said again, trying to jerk my arm away from him. His fingers dug into it like a vice.
“Hell, as I recall, you weren’t even that good at fucking.”
He pulled me closer and put his mouth to my ear. His breath was hot on my cheek. It smelled like cigarettes and old coffee.
“Or maybe you’ve learned a thing or two since I kicked your worthless ass to the curb. Is that it, Amy Lynne? Did you learn to suck a dick like a real woman, or are you still using your teeth? I still have scars on my cock from your fucking teeth.”
I jerked my arm out of his grasp and pushed past him to get to Lizzie. I fumbled with the safety belt for a second, and then it clicked open. I pulled her out of the cart and clutched her to me.
“I’m not done with you,” Randy said. His nostrils flared as he breathed, like a bull about to charge. “I’ll find out who you’re fucking and I’ll tell him the truth about you.”
I held Lizzie as tight as I could and glared at him with tears in my eyes. “What truth?”
“The truth that you’re a fucking piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to suck his cock.” He rolled his eyes and took a step toward us. “Hell, Amy Lynne, I was too good for the likes of you. What makes you think a rich guy would ever do anything more than fuck you and kick you out the door?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I said.
His lips curled into an evil smile.
“I knew it,” he said. “Amy Lynne has found herself a sugar daddy.”
“You don’t know shit.”
“I know you’re nothing but a goddamn whore if he’s paying you money to fuck you. And the only reason anyone would hire you is to fuck you, because you don’t have the brains of a slug.” He leaned in and glared at me. “Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t fucked him already.”
He rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. “I knew it,” he said. “You’re a goddamn whore.”
“I’m not a whore.”
“You take care of his snot-nosed kid in the daytime and fuck him at night. That makes you a whore, plain and simple.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know what I’m saying is true, and so do you. You might be having a good time now, fucking some rich dude for money, but I’d give it a week and you’ll be back here begging for a fucking job bagging groceries.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
He took another step closer.
“And you know what I’ll say when you come crawling back to me, Amy Lynne?”
I slowly shook my head.
“I’ll say, ‘Sure thing, Amy Lynne. I’ll give you a job. Right after you come in the ladies’ restroom and suck my dick.’ Because all you’ve ever been is a fucking whore.”
He grabbed his crotch and shook it at me.
“It’ll be just like old times, Amy Lynne. Only this time maybe you won’t leave fucking teeth marks on my cock.”
I couldn’t stand to hear another word, because he made it sound so true.
If a man was paying you and you were fucking him, you were a whore…
I turned with Lizzie in my arms and ran out of the store, leaving the full cart of groceries and what was left of my dignity behind.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Jackson
“Jackson, these pages you emailed this morning are amazing,” Rosetta said, her face as large as life on the computer screen on my desk. She looke
d at me over the top of her glasses and frowned. “But are you sure this is the story you want to write?”
I shrugged at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She blew out a long sigh. “The story is just so…”
“Personal?”
“Yes.”
“It’s my story, Rose,” I said. “Who better to write it than me?”
She gave me a nod. “Well, this is an excellent start to the outline. I’ll send these pages over to the publisher today. When do you think you can have the rest of the outline?” She glanced away from the webcam to look at her desk calendar. “The deadline to have the full outline is on Monday. That gives you three days.”
“I’ll have it to you in plenty of time,” I said confidently. “Like I said before, the story is already written in my head. It won’t take me long to do the full outline.”
“Jackson, I’m so relieved,” she said with a smile. “I have to tell you, I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’ve been a little worried about myself, Rose,” I said with a smile. “But I have a feeling everything is going to be all right from now on.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. I’ll chat with you soon. Keep up the good work.”
“I will. Chat soon,” I said.
I closed the Skype window and immediately called up the outline I’d worked on all night.
I read over the dozen pages I’d written without making a single change.
I rested my fingers on the keys and closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I opened my eyes and began to type.
* * *
It was almost five o’clock when I emerged from my office. I had gotten so wrapped up in my work that I’d forgotten to eat lunch. My stomach growled as I came into the kitchen.
“Hi, girls,” I said. Lizzie was in her high chair at the table. She threw up her hands and squealed at me when I came into the room. I leaned down to give her a kiss on the head and then went to the fridge for a soft drink.
I opened the refrigerator door and did a double take. The fridge was just as empty as it had been that morning. I glanced at Amy Lynne, who was standing at the stove, dishing vegetable soup into bowls. Two empty cans were on the counter.
“Hey, didn’t you go to the grocery store today?” I asked, my arm hanging over the door. “Wasn’t Coke on the list?”
