What Stace had to say on Friday, September 12th, 2008
Scene Crit 5

Another first-person scene today. Jill in this one has a symbiant (whom I have cleverly named “Symbiant”) speaking in her head. Also, because Jack has a last name too, and is referred to by his last name on occasion, I have given him a new last name. He is “Jack Jackerton”. Hey, it’s Friday. I’m getting a little punchy.

I came back, closed off the door, and looked at Jackerton. “Now,” I said, “if you’re through being a macho asshole, maybe we can have a conversation.”

He grinned and stepped closer to me. “Put that down, will you?” He pointed to the gun. “It’s not a ‘conversation’ if it’s held at gunpoint.”

“I’ll put the gun down when you stop using your body against me,” I said. Anger flushed my cheeks. When a man can overpower a woman like she’s a rag doll, yanking her around without even breaking a sweat, serious weaponry just equalizes the situation.

He took another step closer, and reached gently out for the gun. I held it away from him, but kept it ready. “Using my body against you?” he asked, still smiling. “You mean, like this?”

In a half of a heartbeat, he had knocked the gun out of my hand and lifted me against the wall. The gun skittered away across the floor as his weight pressed into me. His powerful hands were at my waist, and my feet dangled at least a quarter meter off the floor. “Bastard!” I yelled, twisting in his grip, kicking at him, but he held me firmly. Would I never learn? How had I let him do this to me again?

He let go of my waist with one hand, bringing the hand up to my chin. He held my head steady as he leaned in for another terrible hot kiss.

I resisted, but his tongue was in my mouth before I could stop him. And my body was responding, just as it had last night. The scent I caught of him was pure sex, and I answered with pure desire. Stop it! Symbiant screamed in my head. Bite his tongue! Knee him in the balls! But there was nothing Symbiant could do against this onrush of lust, of need, of passion that surged through me. I’d wanted Jack Jackerton from the moment I laid eyes on him. In that moment, I didn’t care if he was screwing my sister or killing my mother. I had to have him.

I writhed against him, kissing him back with fervor, tasting his heat, savoring his incredible strength. I moved my hands down his huge, broad back. It was hard as carved marble, and a whole lot warmer.

His hands moved down, cupping my butt in the tight jeans. This allowed him to support my weight and lean away from me. He came up for air, and I gazed up at him, eager for more.

He laughed. “Say it, Jill. You want me to use my body against you, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. You know I do.”

“‘Fuck you.’ That sounds like an awfully good idea, don’t you think?”

Stupid with desire, I opened my mouth for another kiss. And he granted it. His hands were still on my ass. I could feel every finger through the fabric, exploring, caressing. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders.

He kissed me for another eternity, and then took a step away from the wall, taking me with him. It was as if I weighed nothing. “Let’s see here,” he said, and then started to put me down.

“No!” I protested. I did not want to lose contact with him, not for an instant.

He grinned. “Just readjusting, little one. Here you go.” He set me down on something soft—whatever the squatters here were using for a bed, or couch, or whatever, I didn’t care. All I wanted was Jackerton again, touching me. And I got my wish. He leaned over, covering my body with his. And now I did not fight back.

I started undoing his shirt, the many buttons and fasteners and other complications. He shrugged out of it at long last, and his massive chest loomed over me. I reached up and buried my face in it, drinking in the scent of him, the deliciousness of it. He chuckled low and hungry, and ran his hands through my short hair, then down the side of my face, then to my own shirt. He pulled my sweater over my head and tossed it aside. The he reached for the waistband of my jeans, but only to untuck the t-shirt. He pulled that up, stopping to put a warm hand on the top of my breast, above the bra cup. Then he slipped a finger inside the cup, where my swollen nipple awaited his touch.

“Ohhhh,” I sighed, arching my back, rocking against his touch. He pulled the finger away and lifted the t-shirt over my head. It followed the sweater. His hands now snaked behind my back, unhooking the bra. In a moment, my breasts were free.

He lowered his hot mouth to my breasts—first the right nipple, then the left, his tongue rolling around them. I sighed again as he cupped both breasts, burying his face between them.

Somewhere in here, I noticed that Symbiant was still protesting. Give it a rest, dude, I thought to him. You know as well as I do how long it’s been. I think he was quiet after that. Or else I was distracted.

I began trying to undo Jackerton’s pants. They were green army issue, but they didn’t work like any army pants I’d ever seen. The belt was the first problem. It was part of the pants, but I couldn’t figure out how to unfasten it for the life of me. And it didn’t help that Jackerton was sucking on my nipples and unbuttoning my own jeans at the same time.

“Oh!” I cried, as a thick finger found its way inside me. I was soaking wet and slippery, and squirmed at his touch.

“Oh yes,” he said. Then he reached down with one hand and undid his pants without even looking at them. I pushed them down his hips, and he kicked them away.

He was naked underneath the pants. His cock was huge, and already glistening at the tip. It pulsed eagerly, ready. “Oh my god,” I said, reaching down and taking it into both hands. It jumped at my touch.

“I want you so bad,” Jackerton murmured, as he worked my jeans and underpants down at the same time. I tried to help, but I was pinned down by his weight, his size. Finally he flung the jeans away and put both hands on my thighs, spreading them.

I looked up at him, mouth open, wanting another kiss. He leaned down and kissed me deeply as he entered me, filling me up everywhere at once.

I breathed deep as I stretched—he was huge, and it had been a long time. Too long. I winced a little as he thrust into me. He pulled back and thrust again, and deeper. I groaned, already half from pleasure now. By his third thrust, it was all ecstasy. I ran my short fingernails down his back and cupped his firm ass, urging him deeper, deeper. He obliged.

He drove into me, again and again, pushing me hard into the soft mattress. The scent of incense lingered around us, mingling with the smell of our bodies, our sweat, our sex. He kept his mouth on mine as he thrust, his tongue deep into my mouth. I felt completely consumed by him, by our lovemaking, by the totality that was him.

Then he groaned and pulled his mouth away, panting. His rich dark eyes were shining, and he looked down at me. “Oh god you’re so beautiful,” he said. He thrust deeper, his hips moving at an impossible pace. I matched it, holding him tight. His hands roamed behind us, underneath us, grabbing my ass again, naked this time, holding me closer, ever closer.

I felt myself begin to build, to rise, to fall into his rhythm. I closed my eyes to feel the intense pleasure of it, but suddenly he stopped. My eyes shot open, confused, but he was grinning. “Hang on,” he said, and spun us over, so that I was astride him. “Sit up,” he said.

I rocked back as his hands gripped my butt, holding me close, pressing into me. Then he worked my body on his as he thrust his hips up, and we found a new rhythm. This angle was deeper than ever, and I gasped as I adjusted. He might have split me in two…but I couldn’t stop. “Oh god, oh yeah,” I panted, as I again rolled my eyes back in my head and prepared to lose myself on the wave.

This time, he let me. He held me to him and I leaned back into his strength, rocking, rolling on the flood of ecstasy. Then the orgasm built—and then it exploded, all at once. I screamed out as the tide obliterated me, as the passion that had been building in me poured over me, through me, out every pore in my body. A long moment later, he gave an answering cry, and I felt the telltale release inside me. He still held me, shuddering, emptying himself into me.

Finally, panting, I collapsed down onto his chest. We were still interlocked, but he let go of his iron grip on my ass and started stroking my back gently. I listened to his heart pounding, matching mine.

Slowly, slowly, he receded inside me, as my aftershocks continued to caress him. After a long time, he put his hands on my hips, easing me off and over to the side of him.

“Mmm,” I murmured, resting my head in the crook of his neck.

He picked up my hand and kissed it, then laid it on his chest.

2 comments to “Scene Crit 5”

  1. Robyn
    Comment
    1
    · September 12th, 2008 at 8:04 am · Link

    The “screwing my sister or killing my mother” threw me for a bit- I assume it’s either a joke or explained elsewhere. Mommy killing is kind of a downer.

    But I did like the urgency; it read well.



  2. BernardL
    Comment
    2
    · September 12th, 2008 at 10:19 am · Link

    Although a very credible first person POV, this piece uses far too many weak verbs as in the two examples below.

    ‘In a half of a heartbeat, he had knocked the gun out of my hand and lifted me against the wall.’

    In half a heartbeat, Jackerton knocked the gun from my hand and lifted me against the wall.

    ‘And my body was responding, just as it had last night’

    And my body responded, as it had last night

    Also telling rather than showing turned up as in the line below:

    ‘Then the orgasm built—and then it exploded, all at once.’

    I admire anyone who takes on first person POV.



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