Yes Master - a new start?

I was immediately conscious of the pain that coated my body. It felt as if I had been hit by a lorry, and for a brief moment I wondered whether I actually had been. My limbs were heavier than lead and completely unresponsive to my orders to move; my skin felt stretched across my bones and, although I could not lift my head to assess the damage, I knew I was covered in deep gashes and countless scratches. When the memories of what caused my injuries flooded back into my head, I suddenly wished I had been hit by a lorry instead.

That was when I realised I was in a bed. And not my own either, although I had no idea why that was the thing that bothered me. It took all of my remaining energy simply to look up and find a clock, which told me it was 11:36 in the morning. I groaned in agony and flopped back into the middle of the bed. Sinking into the mattress, I just stared up at the ceiling and tried to ignore the pain.

Unfortunately, there is a problem with staring off into the distance; it gives your brain time to think. And remember. With a depressingly deep sense of detail. As the feelings and memories ran through my head I was vaguely aware that I had started to cry. The cool streams of salty water slid down my bruised and swollen face. The reality of my situation hit me, as it had done previously in the lift with Jackson.

Jackson...

Another fragmented memory began to emerge now. Jackson had carried me out of that God awful building and put me into a car. The car had started, and there was something else that I couldn't recall... Where was I now? In someone's bed, but whose and where was it located? My thoughts flickered back to Jackson, and I realised I was supposed to be angry with him. Why was that again?

My head was pounding again. I tipped my head further back into the soft pillow and closed my eyes. It dulled the pain a little, but nowhere near enough to give the relief that I desperately craved. My weeping had seized now, but I suspected it was down to my swollen eye being unable to produced any more tears. 

With a sudden flare of life, my senses heightened when I heard someone enter the room. I knew they were walking around the room, but they were so light on their feet that I could not place them. Before I knew it, they were sitting on the edge of the bed. I focused on keeping my eyes closed, which was not hard as I had no desire to face the world, because I was scared of whom I would see should I open them.

"I know you are awake, or at least aware of me now," they said, as a gentle touch stroked my swollen cheek. I recognised the voice immediately.

I would like to say my eyes flung open, but that might be a bit optimistic. Although I now wanted them to open they, like the rest of my body, refused the order. Finally, after a ridiculous amount of effort I managed to open them, although it took a lot of continuous effort to keep them open. Trying to smile, but failing miserably, I sighed, "Jackson, I hurt so much."

"I know," he spoke softly, as if he very words were a threat to my fragile state. "You have been asleep for the past three days. You woke up once, and I got a bit of liquid in you, but apart from that you have been completely out of it."

"Three days?" I asked, astonished - although it didn't sound it. The words sounded as pained as I felt. The thought that I had absolutely no recollection of three entire days of my life chilled me ever so slightly. He got liquid in me...Who knows what happened in those three days... Did I even want to know? I decided probably not.

He smiled sadly, and shuffled up towards me. He slid his arms underneath the warm cover and they found my waist. I hadn't ever noticed that I was wearing a baggy shirt - one of his, I assumed - until I could feel his skin touch mine. I started to mumble about how I was too tired, which was true, but he rolled his eyes helped me into a sitting position against the wooden headboard of the bed.

Although the movement had been negligible on my part, it sent shockwaves of pain through my body. I grunted as he helped me sit up. Suddenly he was sitting next to me - I had forgotten how quickly people could move when they weren't feeling like I was - his arm pulling me against his side. I winced when he placed his hand on my waist.

Slowly and carefully, his hand slid under the shirt to where he had just touched. I was unsure what he was thinking, but it was clear that he was shocked at the bruises and gashes that covered my side. He gently placed his hand further down on my hip, where the cuts were a minimum, and slid the shirt back down over his hand.

When his head turned to face mine, a sad expression filled his face. "I am sorry," he said gradually. "I didn't realise they would do this to you. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't sign a contract with them."

A mixture of shock and anger bubbled through me. I hadn't expected, nor wanted, Jackson to take the blame for what had happened to me, yet I was angry that he had allowed it to happen in the first place. "How would that make me feel better?" I asked. The anger that I was feeling barely came through my words - exhaustion made it difficult to convey any emotion. "It means that what they did to me was for nothing."

For a moment, he thought about it and seemed to agree - but only for a second. "Well, they won't be doing it again."

"Jackson, that doesn't exactly make me feel better. It still happened."

As soon as the words left my mouth, his hand began to move away from me. I inwardly chastised myself; I had done it again. Just when Jackson was beginning to be nice to me, I would say something to make him angry with me again.

He leant forward, as if to get up and walk away, but instead shifted his position so his legs were either side of mine and his body was in front of mine. His hands started undoing the buttons at the bottom of the shirt, exposing my stomach. I tried to draw my stomach in away from his touch, the thought of any physical contact made me sick. I flinched as the cold air made contact with my torn skin, and Jackson too flinched when he saw the mess on my stomach.

With a touch lighter than I ever thought possible, he traced one of the gashes with his index finger. I shrunk back against the headboard, his gentle touch making me feel awkward. "Please don't do that," I asked softly. He immediately withdrew, yet he was still perched across my legs - which had by now regained enough feeling to begin getting pins and needles due to him resting on them.

The shirt had been left open and I looked down at my stomach. I felt sick. Every mark on my stomach was all from a stupid metal tipped whip. Who would buy such a thing, except a sadist? I shuddered as I ran one of my own fingers across the very same wound Jackson had touched. The skin was raised up around the edge of the gash and the scab was thin. Some of the slashes hadn't scabbed properly, and I feared some may have become slightly infected - clearly the "disinfectant" cream the man had rubbed over my body was not as effective as they had been led to believe. At the very least, I knew that they would scar and I would never have smooth skin across my body ever again.

I voiced my concerns about the possible infection and he nodded slowly. The thought had apparently crossed his mind too. "I think I have some antibiotic cream somewhere..."

Clambering off of me, Jackson disappeared into an adjacent room and I found myself laughing at the absurdity of my situation. I was in a kidnapper/rapist's house, a man who had given me to a bunch of sadists as a gift, and here I was waiting for him to return with antibiotic cream. It was really quite a funny turn in events.

Don't think too much into it, I told myself. He only wants you better so he can fuck you again. I tried to convince myself that maybe he was just being kind, but I really couldn't see how a person could change that much in just a few days. Even so, I was grateful that he was going to help me.

When Jackson returned, he was holding an unlabeled bottle and a cloth. He helped me out from under the covers, ignoring my grumbles and groans, until I was sitting with my feet over the edge of the mattress. Shuffling around me so he was sat behind facing my back, Jackson slipped the shirt off of my shoulders exposing my shredded back. I heard the liquid pouring onto the cloth, and felt my core tightening. I had a feeling that this was going to hurt.

I was right.

As the soaked cloth was dabbed on my back, a scream escaped my mouth. I drew away from him but he put his arms around my waist, pulling me gently back towards him. "Lorraine, this has to be done. It will help. I promise."

Grimacing, I agreed. Each dab with the damp cloth stung like Hell, and I wondered absentmindedly if this was another form of punishment, but as Jackson progressed across my back the pain diminished somewhat. When he had covered every gash on my back, of which there were considerably less than on my chest, he slowly pulled me back around so I was leaning against the head board.

I tried to pull the cover up over my front, the last thing I wanted right now was to be sitting naked in front of him, but I had no energy left to resist him when he gently tugged the quilt back down. A sad look filled his eyes as he glanced at the damage the men had caused.

Laying back against the head board, I closed my eyes, not wanting to see Jackson rub his hands all over my chest. My entire body clenched in pain when he dabbed the cloth over the first gash. These were far deeper than those on my back. Slowly, he continued smearing the liquid over my front but I noticed Jackson was taking great care in not touching my skin any more than he had to.

"There," Jackson said, after about an hour of silence. He had said nothing during the entire time he had been dabbing the liquid over my body, and I had been grateful, but I was glad to know that it wouldn't endure. "That should help. Would you like something to eat?"

"Um..." I wasn't entirely sure that I would be able to manage eating anything in my current state but decided, after a quick look at his concerned face, that I would try to build up my strength a bit more. "Yeah... I guess so... If it isn't too much trouble."

He nodded, smiling ever so slightly grimly at me, before wandering out the room. For a moment, I was grateful of the solitude but when all of my fears crashed down on me once more I found myself wishing for his comforting presence.

I shook my head. There was no way that I was going to allow myself to like Jackson. Most certainly not. I would not let myself have feelings for a rapist and a gangster. No matter how kind and considerate he seemed now I had to remind myself that this was a man who had bought my body, let his friends fuck me and then sent me off to a bunch of sadists in order to close a deal - that he hadn't even made. No amount of kindness on his part was going to change that.

And yet...

I pushed myself off of the bed and shuffled - a motion that, I must add, caused extreme discomfort - towards a window, in an attempt to clear my head. The window sill was enormous; more than big enough for me to sit on. Looking out, I saw miles upon miles of green fields, and figured I must be in a safe cottage or something similar, far away from normal civilisation.

The thought of being trapped alone with Jackson, miles away from anyone else, should have scared me. Part of me was terrified. But the other part found that the large distance between me and my home town made it easier to forget everything that had happened in the past week. I didn't even care that I was sitting naked anymore.

I soon became engrossed by a little robin, who was bouncing around trying to find twigs and other materials to make a nest. I didn't even hear Jackson when he re-entered the room.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" His words alerted me to his presence, but I didn't turn around to acknowledge him. I simply continued staring out the window. Jackson didn't comment on my silence. Instead, he wandered up behind me and just stood silently watching the same robin over my shoulder.

I tried to concentrate on the robin, but it soon became too difficult. I was overly conscious of the heat radiating from Jackson's body; of how our bodies were so close together, separated by mere centimetres which seemed to span miles. Finally, when the tension became too much for me to bear, I looked up at him and said, perhaps a little curtly, "Yes, it is gorgeous. What can I do for you?"

"Not a lot at the moment," he said. I saw a brief smile cross his face, but he continued to stare out the window and not down at my exposed body. I looked him over properly for the first time that day - possibly taking him in for the first time ever. I had never really noticed that he had green eyes. Or that his short hair, whilst mainly a dark sandy blonde, actually got darker as it got lower around his face. "Well Lorraine?"

"What?" I asked, pulled out of my assessment of him. I realised that he had asked me a question, but I had been so busy that I hadn't heard him. All my mind had managed to process was how good he looked in a suit.

I apologised, and he repeated his question, "Do you want me to bring your lunch in here, or can you manage to make it to the kitchen?"

"Oh, I should be alright making it to the kitchen. I think I have control over my body now." I swung my legs around off the window sill and stood up, my body against Jackson's. He looked down at my face, but I made a mental note of how his gaze stopped at my chin.

For a moment, we stood frozen in time, our gazes locked together, before he spun around and began walking towards the door. Over his shoulder he called, "Well come on then."

I shuffled after him, but it took far longer to get to the door that I had expected. My limbs were still lead heavy, and although I could move them it wasn't with any sort of speed. When I finally made it out the door, some minutes after sliding off the window ledge, Jackson was waiting for me in a small hallway.

He held a small folded bundle of fabric in his hands. As I stepped out the door, he draped a gorgeous silk, kimono style gown over my shoulders. "It gets quite cold in the rest of the house," was the only explanation he offered.

"Thank you," I murmured, as I hobbled after him. It was a beautiful gown that he had gifted me; navy blue (I wondered if he had bought it for me specially, as I recalled telling him this was my favourite colour) with white, pink, purple and black flowers over it. It also gave the added bonus of covering up a decent amount of my body, although I would have preferred it have been long enough that it completely covered my ass - rather than skimming it, as it did so. Even so, I was grateful for the gift.

The rest of the house was gorgeous. We walked through a small living room, past a bathroom and a conservatory before we reached the rustic kitchen. Everything was immaculately clean, plus it was surprisingly well decorated. I don't know why that surprised me, but it did.

I took a seat at the kitchen table, and Jackson placed a plate of chicken broth and a grilled sandwich in front of me. "It isn't anything special," he said, looking momentarily embarrassed. "But I figured it would help you regain your strength a bit, before we move on."

"We aren't staying here?" I asked.

Jackson shook his head. "It won't be safe to stay here for too long. But we can sort that out later. Eat up. Your food will go cold soon."

We ate in silence. Every now and then, I would look up from my food (which was actually delicious - maybe because my body hadn't been fed for three days, but still!) and see him watching me intently. It was a little intimidating, so I immediately looked away.

Jackson finished his food long before I did, but he just sat there content in watching me. "Say something." I said suddenly. I could no longer bare the silence, and his intense gaze was driving me mad. "Anything. Please."

"What do you want me to say?" He asked as a small smiled crossed his face. I watched as his face softened. If only he smiled more often, I thought to myself, he would look nowhere near as menacing. Jackson stood up, collecting my empty plate and taking it to the sink, before helping me into the living room. We sat on a comfy sofa, my head on his chest, his arm casually around my shoulders.

A few long moments of silence stretched between us.

"I don't know. I just can't bare the silence." I had plenty of questions that had been brewing all morning to ask Jackson, but decided to pick a seemingly harmless one to start. "How bad does my face look? Be honest."

The last time that I could remember being conscious, I had received a good many slaps to the face - some from Jackson himself - and I had avoided looking in all the mirrors in the house in hope that it wasn't that bad. But, the fact that my face still felt swollen told me this would not be good news. I was right.

He sat me up and turned toward me, cupping my face in his palms. I felt his thumb stroking my cheek, but I was more enthralled by the compassionate look that now filled his gorgeous green eyes. A small smile played at his lips. "Honestly? I think you have looked better... Of course, a few days ago you looked one hundred times worse."

"Oh," was all I could manage to say. Slowly, without realising what I was doing at first, I lifted my hand to his face - a perfect mirror image to him. My hand slid behind his neck and I pulled him closer towards my bruised face. Our foreheads rested against one another.

I felt him tilt my chin upwards, so our lips moved closer. I mumbled his name, feeling his lips against mine as I spoke. Closing my eyes, I felt him plant a gentle kiss on my mouth. I sunk into his kiss, letting it take me away. I moaned against his lips when he ended it, but I could still feel his lips move against mine when he spoke.

"Lorraine..." Jackson seemed torn. I could sense that part of him, probably a very large part of him, wanted me but there was a part that was telling him no. Perhaps there was some chivalry left in him, some deep rooted belief that was finally making him consider doing the right thing.

I was touched by his concern - I was, after all, in a pretty bad state and still recovering - but right now I wanted nothing more than to feel him pressing his lips against mine. He may well be a rapist, a gangster and an all round terrible person but right now he was showing me compassion - and in my book that made Jackson a decent person. I needed him to know that I didn't think he was completely evil. I whispered against his soft mouth, "Please, Jackson..."

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. Jackson brushed his lips against mine once again, his hands sliding behind my neck and tipping me up further into our kiss. I felt his hands tangle in my hair, and I threw my arms around his neck, pulling our bodies closer together. I started sucking his lower lip, and before long our tongues were dancing together in his mouth.

He pulled away and starting trailing soft kisses down my collarbone. I tilted my head backward against his hand, and I felt his kisses get hungrier. I moaned as he began sucking on the skin at the base of my neck, and I climbed on top of him, spreading my legs around his waist. I could feel the smooth fabric of his trousers between my thighs and against my bare pussy.

"Jackson..." I whimpered, pressing my body against him. Whatever words I had been planning to say got lost when he rolled me over, so he was leaning over me.

Jackson's hands were holding my wrists at my side, his feet rested against mine so my legs were pushed open, and his face was millimetres away from my own. Whilst there was no venom or anger in his voice, I found myself slightly terrified by what he said. "What are you doing, Lorraine?"

I looked into his eyes and, for a moment, wondered myself. "I..." I tried to kiss him once again, but Jackson pulled back asking for an answer again. I couldn't find the words to express myself. My thoughts were in shambles. All I knew was that when Jackson and I had been kissing, nothing else had mattered in the world.

He watched me expectantly, but when it became clear that I had no idea what I was doing or why Jackson gave me a soft kiss on my forehead then released me from his grip. He wandered over to a bookshelf on a far wall and picked up a thin leather book. The book was handed to me, a small smile of Jackson's face, before he disappeared outside. He wandered off into the woods behind the house, leaving me alone.

What just happened? I thought to myself. I lay on the sofa, my head in a pillow, and let out a small scream. My brain was completely addled. I tried to make straight my thoughts. Jackson: the rapist that bought me for one hundred and fifty thousand pounds; took my virginity with his friends in a warehouse and on a bus, made me enjoy being a submission slut; the man who made me walk naked down the street, only to give me to men who degraded me and shredded my body. Or was it Jackson: the caring man that was looking after me, feeding me; the man whose gentle touch drove me wild; the man who kept claustrophobia from destroying me in the lift. My body responded to Jackson in a way that my mind could not comprehend. How could I like this man when he had done all of these bad things to me?

I wanted... Hell, I didn't know what I wanted.

In an attempt to distract my mind, I picked up the blue leather book that Jackson had mysteriously handed me before he disappeared. I had no idea what would be in it. A record of all of the girls that he had bought, fucked and then sold on? A draft of the contract that he wanted me to sign, whatever that had been about? Something sentimental, like pictures of his childhood?

Cautiously, as if the pages might bite me, I opened the journal and burst out laughing. It was a bird watching guide. The pictures had been hand drawn into the book, and the writing beside each picture hand entered, but it was nothing more than a guide about local breeds. I flicked through the guide, admiring the pictures, when a small piece of paper fell out.

It was a by Jackson. His writing was beautiful (it also matched up perfectly with the script in the book, making me even more confused about him - how can such a despicable man have an innocent hobby such a bird watching?). The note wasn't even for me. It was a shopping list! I decided then that I didn't care what he had done to me. Well, maybe I did a little. But my love for him was threatening to burst open my chest. And, in that moment, I knew what I wanted to do.

I busied myself for the rest of the afternoon, tidying up, making a nice dinner for the two of us. When he finally arrived back at about 8, Jackson looked exhausted. And angry. Very angry.

"Jackson, what is wrong?" I hurried over to him, the pain in my limbs long forgotten, and took him into a large embrace. He was stiff in my arms, but relaxed into me after a few seconds. I pulled away, rested my hand on his face and kissed him passionately - not allowing him to answer my question.

Pressing my body against him, I could feel the passion running between us. My fingers ran over his back, and I pulled his blazer off his shoulders, before quickly undoing his shirt. He undid the kimono gown and as I fell to the floor I kicked it off in the other direction. With immense speed, I undid his belt and took his trousers off. His pants were off in a flash too, leaving us kiss fervently in the nude.

The intensity of our kisses went up a notch and he slammed his body against mine, pinning me against a wall - his elbows held my forearms against the wall, whilst he ran his hands through my hair, and I felt him kick my feet wider apart with his own. Jackson's hard cock was pressed against my stomach, and I felt myself growing wet between my legs.

Jackson started to nibble on my ear, murmuring my name quietly. I continued kissing the side of his face, then began sucking on his ear lobe. "Jackson..." I moaned, in between movements. "Ah... Please... just for tonight... be my master?"

A split second passed, and I wondered whether I had upset him, but then I felt him smile against my ear. Before I knew it, we were back in the bedroom and I was laying on the bed, with Jackson on top of me, spreading me out across the mattress. He leant forward to kiss me again, and I felt his dick rubbing on my clit. "Are you sure," he asked against my mouth.

"Yes..." I moaned in glorious ecstasy, as I felt his hard cock pulsing against my clit. "I am yours."

He planted one last gentle kiss on my lips before jumping off my body and wandering towards a chest of drawers. I started to sit up, but was ordered to stay down - I was also told that I would be punished for moving without my master's permission. I gulped. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all...

When he returned to the bed, he was holding a blindfold and a few pairs of hand cuffs. "Sit up," he ordered, although there was a kind note in his voice, as if he didn't want to push me too far. Either way, I did as I was ordered. The truth was, I was very aroused right now and would do anything that he asked me in order to touch his hard cock.

Jackson tied the blindfold over my eyes, making sure that I couldn't see anything at all, before helping me back down to the bed where he handcuffed my hands and feet to the posts of the bed. I felt a little discomfort at being stretched out so much. He slid a cushion under my hips, so my pussy was easier to access.

I knew by now that my nipples were overly erect and my pussy was dripping with my juices already - and I felt the cushion getting wet beneath me. I lay there eagerly waiting for Jackson to start playing with me, but I felt nothing. I heard nothing either. I wondered if he had just wandered out of the room without my knowing.

Suddenly, out of nowhere I felt something being pressed into my pussy. I was already heavily lubricated by my own juices, so the object slipped right in. Then another went in. They felt like small round balls, but I didn't get much time to analyse the situation because they started vibrating inside of me. When I let out a squeal of excitement, Jackson slapped my tits. It was hard enough to make me jump, but not enough to cause excessive pain.

I felt him tracing his fingers over my tits, circling around my nipples before taking them in a pinch and then rolling them around in his fingers mercilessly. The balls in my pussy were still vibrating, and I began to grind my hips against the wet cushion. This earned my tits another slap, this time hard enough to make me grimace slightly. He pulled back and attached clips to my nipples, which pulled them hard from my tits.

Jackson started tracing his fingers down my stomach, avoiding the many healing gashes in my skin, until he reached my clit. He stroked it slowly, changing frequently between side to side and diagonal movements to just tapping it gently. Every touch made me moan his name. He slid his fingers between my folds just enough to collect some of my wetness. My mouth was suddenly forced open by his fingers and I sucked my juices off of him, mumbling appreciatively the entire time.

I jumped nearly a mile high when Jackson's hand came down on my clit. I let out a small scream and he immediately returned to teasing it with his fingers. Another slap, more rubbing. This continued until I couldn't bear it any longer. The constant vibrations from inside my pussy were driving me over the edge. I was just about to come when I felt a freezing cold ice cube touch my clitoris.

"FUCK!" I yelled. The freezing cold ice cube had stopped me mid orgasm, and my pussy was now stuck squeezing tightly around the balls within. Jackson smeared the ice cube over my clit, and slid it down between my folds, making me groan some more. When his hand connected with my clit again the feeling of the slap was magnified indefinitely.

He pulled the small balls out of my still clenched pussy and left me feeling empty.

I started to protest, but a hungry kiss silenced me. Jackson was biting down on my lip, whilst his hands slid down my sides to my hips, and I was returning his kiss with a startling intensity, fuelled by my desire to feel his body and mine together. My entire world was in that kiss. I could not move from my spread out position on the bed; I could not see anything either. All I had at that moment was our kiss. And it was wonderful.

Jackson pulled away, and I felt the handcuffs holding me in place being released. I lay still, unsure what I was supposed to do. I felt Jackson's warm hands slide under me and push me off the bed. I swore inwardly as I tumbled onto the ground.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered - and I quickly obliged. I still couldn't see anything, and I jumped with surprise when he forced his dick into my ass without warning. After one gentle stroke, Jackson started fucking my ass roughly. Occasionally, I felt his hands stray to my tits where he pulled hard on the clips that hang from my nipples. As his pace increased, his fingers began to tease my clit once more and I could do little but moan in ecstasy. Coupled with his other hand dealing out a hard spanking, it took all I had not to collapse onto the ground.

I felt his cock start to swell in my ass, just before he pulled out. My ass felt as if it was on fire, but this only seemed to bring me closer to orgasm. However, once again, I remained unfulfilled and I realised Jackson was seeing just how far he could push me before I broke - both physically into orgasm and mentally into hysterics. I knew that I would be safe from a mental breakdown - the pleasure he was giving me was too overwhelming for negative thoughts - but knew not how much longer I could wait before I came.

His hands slid around my waist, pulling me up into a standing position, and with one hand still holding me tight against his body Jackson undid the knot holding the blindfold over my eyes. I blinked my eyes open and looked straight into his beautiful green eyes. Jackson stared at me with a level expression, but I could see a glint in his eyes as he examined my body.

I stretched up on tip-toes so our mouths were the same level, and against his lips I whispered, "Is that all you've got for me, Master?"

Jackson grinned against my lips, before suddenly spinning me around and throwing me down on the bed. A dart of pain shot through me, as my torn up back hit the sheets, but it went away the moment his lips touched my clit. He sucked my clit hard, grazing it with his teeth, which caused shudders to ring through my body. Every time that my orgasm drew near, Jackson would pull away and blow cold air onto my clit, preventing me from reaching my climax until I could take it no more.

"Please... Please fuck me," I managed in between deep breaths.

He smiled and shoved his fingers into my soaked pussy. Thrusting his fingers against my g-spot, his movements were slow but deep. It was driving me wild. My pussy clenched around his fingers, and I finally came over his hand. Pulling his hand from inside me, he brought it up to his mouth and licked up my juices.

However, my eyes were drawn to his rock hard cock. It seemed only fair to me that he should come too and without hesitation I took his dick in my mouth and sucked on it hard. He placed his hand on the back of my head, and pushed my mouth further down onto his dick. My hands rose to the base of his cock, and I squeezed his balls whilst gently stroking the underside of his huge dick. I made sure that his entire cock was covered in my saliva before standing up against his strong body and throwing my legs around his waist.

Jackson's cock slid into my wet pussy and thrusted into me, keeping me pressed against the nearest wall. I tipped my head back, enjoying the feeling of him pounding in and out of me, and felt him lightly bite down on my ear lobe. Just as his dick grew inside me, he pulled out and swore.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked anxiously. He pulled away from me, but our bodies were still touching. His hands slid around my waist and started to move me away from the window. I followed his gaze outside and saw what had scared him. Flashing blue lights coming towards us.