Avery
It’s like flipping a switch. Basking in the darkness of midnight then turning on a light.
That’s where I was before this. Before Jack.
Before sex.
My virginity left me in the dark, and my innocence didn’t even give me a flashlight. I’ve seen flashes of pornography before, sure. My friends were always bolder than me—less afraid of getting caught.
But a few seconds of two anonymous, detached porn stars rubbing up against each other?
It’s nothing compared to this.
Jack is a wild man. Mad with something that I don’t have a name for.
The look in his eyes is insane. Unhinged. He forces his cock into me a fraction of an inch at a time, but even then—there’s only so much my pussy can take.
Jack is huge. Not just his cock—well, that too—but really, all of him is mountainous. His biceps ripple with raw power. His pectorals twitch as he tries to fight the primal urges that still live in his muscle memory, no matter how hard he tries to hold back and repress.
He has so much power behind his every thrust that I can tell it’s all he can do to stop from splitting me in two right now. Just like those logs he’s been chopping outside every time I remind him that I’m a woman and he’s a man and the two of us together like this must be the most natural thing in the entire world.
Then his cock twitches.
Something inside me snaps as it does.
It feels like a supernova between my legs. Like the haloed explosion of a dying star. I cry out in—not pain, but not exactly pleasure, either.
It’s a sensation. Pure and visceral and intense, beyond anything else I’ve ever felt.
I’m not a virgin anymore.
The pleasure comes after. It spirals up my spine, through my arms and legs and all the way to the cold little tips of my fingers and toes. It feels like hot little needles made of golden warmth.
I’m suddenly not so cold anymore either.
Inside me, Jack’s cock pulsates. I can feel the thick, engorged tip forcing my delicate inner walls apart and filling the space with his thickness, his length.
Then Jack’s thickness fills me in a way that I never thought possible. In a way I never could have imagined before, even if I tried.
His tip slides against what I guess must be my G-spot. I read somewhere that the G-spot is a myth, but when he moves against it, my whole body is wracked with pleasure.
When he moves against it again as he pulls out, I lose control.
It’s not just an orgasm. It’s an epiphany. It’s every cliché I’ve ever read or heard of about sex finally clicking in my mind—coming together and making sense.
And it’s an unraveling. I’ve been a Very Good Girl for so long now that I never imagined I might have a darkness within me. A Very Bad Girl waiting to be unleashed. But my inner dark side doesn’t smoke cigarettes beneath the bleachers at the football field or dip in to Mommy’s expensive wine collection while the parents are in Bali…
My dark side is all nails and animalistic snarling, moaning and screaming and teeth.
I dig my French tips into Jack’s shoulder blades, raking them down his hot, hard skin. I can feel his muscles rippling beneath my nails in pain or pleasure or some mix of the two. He growls like an animal, fucking me even harder. It only makes me dig my nails in more.
When I first saw Jack, I thought he was more wild animal than man.
Now with his cock inside me, I’m just as wild as him.
We fuck like we’re feral. Like nature and instinct have taken over our bodies and twisted our minds.
When I used to think about losing my virginity, I imagined that it would be soft, sweet, loving, and kind.
This isn’t kind. This is horny, lust-driven madness.
My body responds to it like it was made for this.
It’s not just my virginity that I’m losing beneath Jack’s gorgeous, muscular body. With every orgasm I have around Jack’s thick, hard cock, I feel like I’m losing myself too. Little by little. Piece by piece.
My brain is being flooded with endorphins and hormones that make me dizzy. Make everything around me feel surreal.
What sensation I can feel, I have to hold onto so I can ground myself on it—or else, I’ll fear I’ll lose myself entirely. Float away on a cloud made of orgasmic dreams.
But focusing on the sensations that Jack is giving me only makes me orgasm harder. Faster. More.
The moments that he tries to slow himself, tries to shut out the beast inside him that’s ravaging my body, are the only moments that keep me sane.
But slowly, I feel even those gradually fading away into something darker. Even more primitive. Something violent and terrifying and delicious and full of aching intensity.
Jack warned me that he would hurt me.
He warned me, and I didn’t listen.
It’s not that I’m afraid of him. I’ve looked death dead in the eye as my own fiancé curled his hateful fingers around the bodice of my wedding dress. I saw it again when my car hit that black ice. I’ve been flung down an entire fucking mountain and lived to tell the tale.
I’m not afraid of Jack. Nothing he could possibly do to me would be worse than what’s already been done.
What I’m afraid of is what I’ll become if he fucks me any harder. Makes me orgasm even just once more.
But my body doesn’t care about fear. Fuck, my body might actually enjoy it. Even as my pleasure-drowned mind races, trying to find some kind of traction or guidance, I can feel another orgasm building between my legs.
And this one? It’s going to be the biggest one yet.
I have to think.
But I can’t fucking think.
I might not be innocent or naive anymore, but Jack’s cock has made me fucking dumb.
I can’t come again.
If I come again, I don’t know who I’ll become when the orgasm is over.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I kiss him.
Our lips clash together like the soldiers of two warring armies out for blood. Jack’s warrior lips are curled into a snarl while he fucks my cunt hot and wet and raw. His kiss is just as powerful as everything else about him.
If there’s any such thing as winning a kiss, Jack is certainly trying.
But I’m strong too. Not in the way that Jack is—no, in my own little way. My kiss isn’t brutal. It’s not violent. I don’t even kiss him all that hard.
It’s love, I think.
As the orgasm hits me, dissolving the final lingering pieces of my old self beneath its fire and flame, I kiss Jack with all the love in my heart.
And against my lips, I feel Jack change.
A deep, dark sigh escapes his nose. His breath is hot. I inhale it, breathing in his scent. It’s so good, my eyes roll back and my eyelashes flutter.
Inside me, his cock throbs. But now his thrusts have a different power behind them. The slow, intense force of something even better than sex. Better than fucking.
Making love.
Jack is making love to me.
Together, we’re making love.
Our bodies move in the way the universe does. A cosmic ballet directed by forces stronger than either of us on our own. United like this, with my freshly warmed, pale thighs wrapped around Jack’s waist and his lips on my arching body, pouring hot kisses down my neck and collar bones and breasts—it makes me feel like together, we’re complete. We’re invincible.
Together we could take on the world as one and nothing would stand in our path.
When Jack comes inside me, he erupts. It’s like ten years of passion and desire pouring into my virgin womb all at once.
He pumps me full of his creamy white-hot heat, giving me every ounce his balls have been saving up—for me. All for me. Only for me.
A condom. I should have made him wear a condom. But there aren’t any in this cabin—this cabin where a woman hasn’t set foot in since it was built. And I was so cold…and I wanted him so bad…
A baby, a greedy little voice inside my head whispers. Jack might have put a baby inside you just now.
The greedy little voice makes my pussy glow with pleasure, and then I’m coming. And Jack is coming. We’re coming. Both of us. Together. All at once.
In the aftermath, we’re both panting, dripping with sweat and too lost in pleasure to even form words. But when our eyes meet, I know that nothing between us will ever be the same again.
And when Jack’s lips meet mine, I know I wouldn’t change it for all the warmth in the world.