Jackson was lying on his bed, one arm around Lydia and the other behind his head. They'd fooled around a little and were now simply cuddling until Lydia had to leave. Jackson wasn't supposed to have anyone over when his parents were out, especially girls.

"Jackson?" Lydia said, tracing circles on his chest with her fingers.

"Hmm?"

"I, um…I love you."

Jackson inhaled sharply and tensed up. That was the first time Lydia had said that.

"And you don't," Lydia said, sitting up.

"No, no, Lydia, wait." Jackson grabbed her arm to stop her from getting off the bed. "I do. I…I love you." She smiled. "I just…I haven't said that to anyone in ten years."

"I'm honored."

Jackson pulled her closer and kissed her, laying her down and climbing on top of her. He unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off, kissing her collarbone before unclasping her bra and tossing it off the bed. He kissed and licked and sucked her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair as he moved down to her jeans, which he took off. He rubbed her through her panties for a second before taking those off, too.

"Jackson," Lydia moaned as he licked her clit and pressed two fingers inside her. She was so hot and tight and wet and she tasted so delicious. He moved his fingers faster; she arched her back. Jackson curled his fingers, trying to find the magical spot that Google said existed inside her.

"Jackson!" she cried as he pressed against what must have been her G-spot. He kept stroking it while licking and nibbling at her clit, and soon she cried out and came around his fingers.

"Damn, that's hot," he said, pulling out his fingers and sucking them clean.

"Do you want to…?"

Jackson smiled. "Yeah, yeah, I do. If you want to."

Lydia smiled and pulled him in for a kiss, tugging off his shirt and undoing his belt. He was completely naked soon. Then he remembered.

"Lydia, I don't have any condoms."

"That's okay. I'm on the pill." Jackson frowned. "I had really bad migraines and cramps so my doctor put me on the pill to control it."

He nodded. "Okay, well, I've never…done this, so if I finish early, it's not…it's not a reflection of my usual abilities. And if I'm not big enough—"

"Jackson, sweetie, you're perfect." She stroked his face and kissed him, pulling him closer so the head of his dick brushed her entrance. "Just go slow, okay?"

Jackson nodded, holding himself up with one arm and using the other hand to align himself. He pressed in slowly. She gasped but smiled when he glanced at her. He pressed forward some more; she was so tight.

"Is this okay?" he asked, still moving forward.

"Can you hold on for a sec?"

Jackson stopped moving, staring down at Lydia, concerned. He was about halfway in now, and wanted to fully engulf himself but also wanted Lydia to enjoy this. After a minute, she nodded, and he pressed forward until he was all the way inside. She was so tight and warm and he felt like he was made to be inside her.

"Okay, you can move," she said.

He nodded, pulling back and thrusting forward a few times. She didn't seem to be as close to orgasm as he was, so he kissed her breasts and rubbed her clit with one hand. She moaned, the sound getting louder with each forward thrust of his hips. He moved faster, wanting her to come first.

"Jackson, aaahhhh," Lydia moaned as she arched into him and clenched around him.

"Fuck," he said. Her muscles were gripping him and it pushed him over the edge. He pushed in as far as he could go and screwed up his face in pleasure as he let go. He stayed inside her for a minute until he'd finished coming, then pulled out and collapsed next to her.

"Wow," she said.

"Yeah."

"That was…"

"Amazing."

"Yeah."

Jackson grabbed her hand. Then he heard the front door open.

"Fuck, that's my dad," he said, shooting out of bed and grabbing his clothes.

"Oh, shit," Lydia muttered, getting dressed as quick as she could. Jackson managed to get completely dressed but Lydia's shirt was still off when Mr. Whittemore came in.

"Jackson, your magazine came in the mail."

Lydia squeaked, holding her shirt over her chest to cover herself. Mr. Whittemore looked from Jackson to Lydia to the messed-up bedsheets and back to his son.

"Jackson, what the hell is this?" Jackson couldn't look his father in the eye, gazing instead at his dad's feet. "Oh, God, you had sex, didn't you? Didn't you?" Mr. Whittemore sounded angry. "Jackson David, I asked you a question."

"Alright, fine, yes, Dad, we had sex."

Mr. Whittemore sighed, slamming Jackson's magazine on the dresser. "What have your mother and I told you about having friends over when we're out?"

"I'm not allowed."

"And what about having girls in your room unsupervised?"

"I'm not allowed."

"That's right. You're grounded for a month. Give me your phone." Jackson pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and gave it to his dad. "And your computer."

Jackson finally looked his dad in the face. "I need that for school!"

"You can use the desktop downstairs in the meantime. Give me your computer." Jackson glanced back at his desk. He'd never gotten his computer taken away before. "Give me your laptop right now." He was still trying to think of an excuse to keep it, even though he knew nothing would work. "Jackson David Whittemore, give me your laptop right now."

Jackson sighed, turning to his desk and unplugging his computer, offering it to his dad. Mr. Whittemore put it under his arm like a newspaper before turning to Lydia.

"Lydia, I will go into the hall so you can get dressed and then I'm driving you home. And don't think for a second that I won't tell your mother about this." He left.

Lydia pulled on her blouse and buttoned it up, grabbing her shoes and purse and kissing Jackson quickly before leaving. Jackson watched the car leave through his window.

"Fuck!" he shouted, kicking over his desk chair and sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest. The best day of his life had just turned into the worst.

He was still sitting on the floor, fuming, when his dad returned half an hour later. Mr. Whittemore came into the room, picked up the desk chair, and sat next to Jackson.

"I lost my virginity when I was sixteen," he said. "To a cheerleader. She was only doing it so she wouldn't be the only virgin on the squad. I'm glad you're with someone who you care about, even if you're only fifteen." Jackson didn't say anything. "Oh, I picked these up." His dad pulled a box of Trojans out of his pocket and gave them to his son. "You wear one of those every time, okay?"

"I don't need the sex talk, Dad." Jackson got up and put the condoms in his nightstand drawer.

Mr. Whittemore stood up. "I'll come get you when dinner's ready." He left.

Jackson flopped on his bed, still angry but also still happy. Sure, he was grounded, but he could still see Lydia at school. And he really did love her.