A few days had passed since the last knock on Jack’s cabin door, and the summer air was thick with pine, heat, and the kind of stillness that made every creak of the porch boards sound louder than it should.

Jack was out back, shirtless, splitting logs with practiced ease. His broad chest gleamed with sweat in the golden late-afternoon sun, muscles rippling with every swing of the axe. He moved with that calm, deliberate grace he was known for—slow, strong, and unbothered by the weight of the world.

That’s when he heard it: soft footsteps crunching over the gravel path. He looked up, squinting toward the trail.

Kristy.

The girl moved with hesitation—almost like she was trying to talk herself out of every step forward—but she kept coming. She wore a pale blue sundress that clung to her in the humidity, the thin fabric brushing her thighs in the breeze. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. She wasn’t dolled up—no makeup, no heels, just innocence wrapped in nerves and that flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

Jack leaned on his axe, watching her approach. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to. That silence always did half the work.

Kristy’s voice was small but clear. “Hey, Jack…”

He nodded once. “Hey there, Kristy. Everything alright?”

She looked down at her hands, clasped nervously in front of her. “Yeah. I, uh… I was hoping you could do me a favor.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “What kind of favor?”

She stepped up onto the porch, the screen door creaking behind her as she followed him inside without being asked. That alone told him she’d made up her mind about something.

Inside, the air was cooler, heavy with the smell of cedar, leather, and the lingering scent of sex from past visits. Kristy stood by the door like she might still turn and run. Her fingers played with the hem of her dress, lifting it just enough for Jack to see a hint of bare thigh.

“I know you’re… with a lot of people,” she said softly. “And I know you don’t do relationships.”

Jack watched her closely. “You been spying on me?”

She blushed. “It’s a small town. People talk. And I—”

She hesitated, swallowed, and then looked him dead in the eye with that sudden flash of boldness only youth and desire could ignite.

“I just turned eighteen. Two days ago. And I want it to be you.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. He didn’t move. He just let the moment settle.

“Kristy…” he said carefully, voice low. “You know what you’re saying?”

She nodded, her breath hitching. “I don’t want it to be awkward, or fumbling, or forgettable. I want someone who knows what they’re doing. Who’ll take control… but won’t hurt me. I want it to be… real.”

Jack stepped closer, slow and deliberate. She didn’t flinch—just stared up at him with wide, eager eyes. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, letting his knuckles graze her cheek.

“You sure?” he asked, voice like gravel and smoke.

Kristy’s breath hitched again, and her hands trembled as she reached up and laid her palm against his chest. “I’ve been dreaming about this for months.”

Jack let that linger between them before finally pulling her into a gentle kiss—nothing rushed, just his lips brushing hers, coaxing her mouth open, tasting her breath. Her body pressed into him with shaky need, and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her like she weighed nothing.

He carried her to his bedroom, the one where so many others had moaned his name, and laid her down on the thick furs atop the bed.

Kristy trembled as Jack stood above her, stripping his shirt off slowly, revealing every thick muscle, every line of his carved torso. She reached for him instinctively, her fingers small and eager against the ridges of his abs.

He climbed onto the bed beside her and took his time. Jack was slow, teasing—his big hands exploring her soft, untouched body, drawing gasps and whimpers from her lips as he peeled off her sundress, inch by inch.

She was beautiful—slim but curvy in the right places, her skin smooth and flushed, her breasts small but perfectly shaped, her thighs trembling with anticipation. Jack cupped her face, kissed her forehead, her nose, her neck, until she melted into his hands.

“You’re doing perfect,” he murmured as he eased her legs apart, settling between them. “Let me show you how good this can be.”

His fingers traced along her thighs, teasing the heat between them, never rushing. He built her up with soft touches and deep kisses, his tongue working magic she hadn’t known her body could feel. Her moans grew louder, less controlled, her hips starting to buck as his touch grew firmer, more commanding.

Kristy’s hands dug into the sheets as Jack slowly pulled away, licking his lips like he’d just tasted something forbidden.

“You’re ready,” he growled.

He positioned himself above her, letting her feel the heavy weight of his cock against her thigh. Her eyes widened, lips parted—but there was no fear. Just raw need.

Jack leaned down and kissed her again—this time harder—while he guided himself to her entrance.

And then, slowly… deliberately… he pushed inside.

Kristy gasped, clutching at his back. Jack moved inch by inch, stretching her, filling her, giving her time to adjust to every part of him. Once he was fully inside, he stilled, letting her feel the fullness of it, the intimacy, the dominance.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered.

And then he started to move… .. ..

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