by Scott, S. L.
I ply my lips away from her, but keep my hands in place—right on her fantastic breasts. My hips are still pinning her against the back of the door as well when I start rambling, “I want you so much, but we should be safe.” She stops and looks at me, moving my left hand to touch her face and feel her smooth skin. “We’ve never talked about it, but I know you’re on the pill. I’ve seen you take them, but I haven’t been tested in a couple of months and I think—”
She holds a condom between her index and middle finger, and says, “I meant, it’s okay because I brought protection. You didn’t seriously think I was going to forget your playboy ways just because I’m a little tipsy and you have a fabulous cock, did you?”
I chuckle, embarrassed by my false assumption. “I’m glad you’re responsible even when you’re tipsy. Now give me that,” I say, grabbing the condom from her. “You’re a dirty little girl, Mallory. I’m impressed.”
“I don’t want you impressed. I want you to want me.”
“Oh, I want you!”
“Show me. I’m about to explode looking at you all sexy and shit.”
“Oh, baby.” I attack her neck with my mouth. “I kind of like the begging. Maybe I should torture you a bit,” I say, pausing to undo her shorts, “longer.” Once I’m inside the denim, I move my fingers back and forth taunting, teasing her. When I drag my hand leisurely out, I bring my fingers to my mouth and take a long, slow lick, never breaking eye contact with her. Her mouth drops open as I say, “Mmmmm, Mallory, I think I have a very bad girl on my hands. First, you have an all-too-convenient condom on your person—”
“My person?” She mocks before I take the two fingers I just licked and place them on her lips.
“Then, I find out that you premeditated your naughtiness by choosing not to wear any panties. On top of that, or should I say underneath all that, you’re already wet and ready for me. Is that what you planned to do tonight? You want me to fuck you? Or, maybe you want to fuck me?” I play with her oh-so-very kissable bottom lip as I lean very close to her ear, and whisper, “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it for you.”
Her breathing tells me how she’s feeling. It’s deep and lustful and such a fucking turn-on, but I want to give her what she wants. I always want to give her what she wants.
Between shallow pants, she breathes out, “I want to get lost in you and for you to lose yourself in me.”
“I’m always lost in you.” I kiss her hard and push her shorts the rest of the way down.
I pull her tank top up over her head and don’t bother talking anymore. I want what she wants just as much.
With one hand roaming anxiously over her body, the other unties the strings of her bikini top as she mewls into my mouth. After tossing it aside, I drop my shorts with the one hand and get the condom from her. Taking a desperate step back, I roll the condom down my length. I scan the shack quickly because as much as I want to take her against the door, it’s old and I don’t want her getting a bunch of splinters or marks on her back from the raw wood. An obstacle like that would’ve never bothered me before if I was doing this with anyone else.
All the foam boards are upright in the racks along the wall. One of my favorites that I borrow is here because I’ve been meaning to wax it for weeks. It’s lying across the top of two workhorses. I look back at Mallory and raise an eyebrow in question, suggestion, and insinuation then smirk at her.
She readily moves over to it and perches her bottom on top, which positions her at the perfect height for me. Moving between her legs, I slow things down by cupping her cheeks and kissing her with care. When that first sweet sound is pulled from within her from my actions, I know she’s ready and I push into her. She wraps her arms around my neck and one hand feeds into my hair, pulling just enough to keep me balanced between pleasure and pain.
It only takes a minute before I need more of her and I can tell she’s ready for a solid fuck. I grab her hips and thrust faster and harder, not bothering to muffle my moans of enjoyment. I thrust a few more times and feel her being pushed across the surfboard and further from me. Starting to fall into the abyss of sexual bliss, I thrust harder. Her hands slide from my body as she slides off the back right into a pile of life jackets, screaming in surprise as she lands on the cushioning.
“Shit, I’m sorry. The board hasn’t been waxed in a long time. It’s slippery when wet,” I say, rushing to help her up.
She giggles, thankfully finding humor in the situation. “Well, I’ll say. Guess we have that in common.”
I was so close sixty seconds before and want to get back there, so I look around the shack hoping to remedy the problem at hand. But the shack sucks for good sex until I spot the surfboard wax on the counter. It even has the word sex on the label. I grab the pineapple scented one and rub it against the top of the board in a fluid, but meticulous motion.
* * *
MALLORY
Standing there, I watch him wax the board in a fury of motion and it makes me smile to see him so desperate to get back to the sex part, falling off a ridiculous, but funny interruption.
He turns, and demands, “Get back on the board.”
There’s no questioning, the humor has evaporated and the shack heats up instantly. I position myself on top of the board again, my hand pushing the remaining wax bar to the side. I look down at it and an idea comes fast. It’s crazy and erotic and something I’ve never done and never thought I would do. But being here with Evan, looking at the sweat glistening on his chest, his expression hungry for me, with him I want to experience everything. He makes me want to push my sexual boundaries. With a sly smile and a nod toward the wax, I ask, “Wanna play a little?”
He doesn’t hide his surprise. “Fuck, are you serious right now? You want me to use the wax on you?”
“Mmmhmm.” Just like the other times with him, I’m not nervous.
“Okay,” he whispers then turns around to pick up the wax again. “Lay back,” he instructs.
I lay down as he grabs a lighter from the counter behind him. Holding the flame under the wax, I watch it flicker as the wax begins to melt. When he moves it over my chest, his eyes connect with mine, and he says, “It’s gonna be hot, baby. Tell me if it’s too much.”
“I will.” The first drop of wax hits my skin above my right breast, stinging and shooting pain through my body. I arch up, my head falling back as I gasp before holding my breath until the pain subsides.
“Baby?” he asks, his brow furrowed in concern as he leans over me. “Too much?”
The dim light seeping into the room and the dulling pain heightens unexpectedly into pleasure. Shadows highlighting every groove of his muscular arms and shoulders as he hovers with me as his entire focus. The ache from the hot wax turns into an ache deep in my being, consuming me. “No, again, please,” I beg this time, needing him now.
When his expression changes from worry to desire, I know he’ll give me everything I crave. I hold the rails of the board as he flicks the lighter to life again. My legs squirm, waiting, but his careful concentration feels more like a calculated torture. I watch with baited anticipation as a drop finally releases, falling through the air. With a sharp unintentional intake of air, I close my eyes and respond to the blissful torment. “Ahhh.”
My eyes open when he roughly drags his fingers between my legs, bringing my attention back to him. “You’re so wet, Mallory.”
Without warning, he pushes me onto my side then drags my hips to the edge of the board. “Hold on, baby,” he warns as I feel his hardness at my entrance.
I grab the edge of the board again as his grip on my hips tightens and he slams into me, the surfboard moving in reaction with my body.
It was all leading to this, the foreplay readying me for him. Words of want and need escape me. “Yes! Oh, baby, yes!”
Not a minute more, he gives into his own need and comes. “Fuck, Mallory!”
Evan grabs my ass and squeezes with one hand and then slides it over my hip and sto
mach until two fingers slip into my wetness and rub.
He owns all of me and controls my every breath and orgasm, manipulating them to his will. I give in entirely, not wanting to fight the incredible feeling any longer. “Ohhhh, Evan.”
His hand stays until my body settles.
* * *
EVAN
Physically tired yet mentally exhilarated, I lean forward and rub her back then help her up, directing her to relax on the nearby chair after I lay a clean towel down for her. I gather our clothes, handing them to her and pulling on my shorts. She slowly dresses, but looks satisfied and rightly fucked, which only serves to make me want to fuck her again, but I hold myself back.
A banging on the door makes me jump startled by the intrusion. Mallory covers herself in shock. I hear my boss yelling, “Ashford! Open the door!”
She hides behind me, pulling her tank top over her head and her shorts on as she whispers, “Who is it?”
“My boss,” I state flatly, annoyed.
He knocks louder. “I’m not kidding, Ashford. I can get a key. Open the damn door right now.”
Shit! “I guess I need to open it.” I look her over once to make sure she’s dressed then ask, “Where’s your bikini top?”
“I have no idea,” she replies all nervous.
I kiss her on the lips quickly then cock an eyebrow up in amusement. “No worries. Just stay behind me.” She tucks herself behind me as I open the door and walk outside together.
“This is hotel property, Ashford. You know how many rules you’re breaking by being in here?” He eyes Mallory up and down a little too long for my liking. I look behind me and see the white cotton top clinging to her perky breasts. When I turn around, I hold myself back from a quick cross punch to that smarmy expression he’s wearing while staring at my girlfriend.
With my hand firmly in place on her lower back, I push her a step closer to me and hold her against my back, shielding her from his prying eyes. I straighten my shoulders back, and say, “We were just leaving.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and says, “Yes, you are because you’re fired. Clean out your locker and leave the property.”
“Fired? I’m fucking good at what I do. You can’t do—”
“You’re replaceable and not worth the hassle and time I have to spend trying to get you to fall in line with our company’s standards. The decision has been made. You have fifteen minutes to get your stuff and leave. Your skills are no longer required here.”
He walks a wide berth around us into the shack and stands like a guard at the door. “Hand over your key, Ashford.”
I’m kind of stunned and stand there a moment longer in shock, but then I feel Mallory’s breath against my back which makes me realize this job doesn’t really matter. She’s leaving, I have a job in New York if I want it, and I have a future because of her. “Okay, whatever, man.” I roll the key off of my keychain and hand it over, offering a handshake after. He accepts the olive branch, and I say, “Thanks for the job. I actually did enjoy working here, but I understand. I broke the rules.”
“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head incredulously at me. “Rules are in place for a reason.”
Turning back to Mallory, I take her hand, and ask, “Do you mind waiting for me at the car?”
She nods. “I’ll meet you there.”
We both start walking when he says from behind me. “Hey kid, glad to hear the truth come out about that girl.” He looks down then says, “Take some advice. Go back to school, Evan. You’re too good for this place anyway.” He smiles which makes me smile and chuckle back.
“I intend to.”
After cleaning out my locker, I walk to my car with my spare clothes and shower stuff under my arm. My body comes to a complete halt when I spot my car under the large parking lot lamp, spying Mallory lying across the hood. Normally I’d freak, but this is Mallory, my hot girlfriend. I try to calm my body’s erection as images of an eighties rock video flash through my head.
With my confident smirk and swagger back in effect, I start walking again, feeling happier than I’ve felt in years. The sun, moon, and stars have aligned in my world and I owe it all to the girl looking like a sexy pin-up on top of my car—a girl that looks incredible and is waiting there for me. For me.
I’m such a lucky bastard.
14
Evan
I wake up next to Mallory the morning after being fired. We made love twice last night. The first time in the surf shack could actually be considered more of a fucking, but anytime with my girl is loving to me. I grin without an ounce of regret over the firing. The time with her was worth the loss of job. The memories are definitely worth it.
Rolling onto my side to face her, I see she’s still asleep with a small smile on her lips. Damn, she’s beautiful. I stroke back a section of hair that has fallen across her cheek. As I lay the hair neatly in place, she stirs, but still sleeps. Her expression is content, peaceful. I watch her. I watch her as the sun rises, brightening my world. I watch her as the minutes turn to hours. While watching her, my head clears, and all the pain I had learned to live with in my heart is gone, no trace remaining.
Her eyes finally peek open and she smiles just for me.
I whisper, hoping not to break the serenity of the early hour. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“You’ve been smiling for about two hours now. You want to share what you were dreaming?” I ask, closing the gap and completely invading her space with my knees and hands, my whole body. I want to get as close as I can to her. Fuck it! I want to be inside her.
“My dreams already came true,” she replies easily, her tone letting me know she’s not moving from this bed anytime soon.
She makes me want to stay here in bed with her—the warmth of her body, the suggestive curves of her breast pressed against me tempt me to stay forever. But I have ideas about her remaining time on the island, not wanting her to miss a thing. Her eyes are bright with possibility, so I say, “You only have two weeks left. I thought we could cram in all the stuff that everyone usually wants to do while visiting the island, starting with that luau Sunny said you really wanted to go to. Would you like to go today since it’s your day off?”
“Really?” she asks, crinkling her nose. “You’d do the cheesy tourist thing for me?”
“I would do anything for you, Mallory.”
She leans forward and kisses me while her hand weaves into my hair, holding me to her. Her body wiggles even closer and then seductively gyrates against mine letting me know she wants me as much as I want her. “Would you make love to me again?”
“That’s not exactly torture you know.”
“I’m a simple girl with simple needs, what can I say.”
My hand slides against her stomach and upward across her breasts without stopping, skimming back down between her legs. Her eyes grow heavy and I watch as her breathing changes, deepening.
I move on top of her, spreading her legs with my knee, parting her for me. Adjusting my weight on my legs and forearms, I kiss her stomach while rubbing my thumbs across her hipbones, securing her to the mattress. Tilting my head, I lick the apex of her thighs.
“Evan?” she calls, surprised by my quick action.
I don’t answer because she’ll try to convince me not to do this so we can get to the sex part, but I want to make her feel good. I want to see her writhe under my tongue, to watch and feel her body beg to come then give in to the seduction. And I want to be exactly where I am when that happens.
Mallory has always been responsive to me and she doesn’t disappoint now. I learn more about her body and her likes every time we’re together. She wriggles when I wiggle my tongue around her clit. She jolts when I flick her lightly and slightly to the right with my tongue. And she melts, relaxing into the mattress when I go deeper. All the time I spent studying her over the last two months is paying off. I can feel her body tightening, coiling, as she grips the sheets in her fists. I
continue circling then mixing up my pattern keeping her on edge.
I know she’ll orgasm as soon as I touch her with my fingers because I already have her worked into a sexual frenzy. I bring my hand up, sliding it over her thighs to warn her, allowing her to prepare before my fingers find their own warm heaven while continuing to move my tongue as I twist and curl.
Twist, curl, twist, spin, twist, curl.
She tremors under me, squirming around on the bed. “Oh my God, Evan! Get in me now!” She demands, pulling me up by the hair.
I jump up quickly removing my boxer briefs and grabbing a condom. “You want me, baby?”
“I want you, but I need you more,” she says, lighting a fire within me.
Knowing I make her feel this way, making her want me so much makes me hard as a fucking rock.
This morning is about love, not fucking I remind myself. After lying back down, hovering over her, I stare into the depths of her eyes.
She frowns, but the lines fade as she softly smiles. Stroking my hair from my forehead, she asks, “What is it?”
I kiss her, really kiss her and she begins to move beneath me as I guide myself inside of her, a physical bond from my soul to hers. My eyes close automatically, the feel of her overwhelming my senses.
Forcing them back open, I watch her face as she wraps her legs around my waist, keeping me close, as close as possible. My chest is against hers and every move is calculated with a slow and deliberate effort. Her eyes are closed and lips parted, her sweet breath inhaled as I breathe her in. I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her again.
An aching begins to build from intense desires. I want to lose control and move faster and harder, for pleasure alone, but I need to make love to her. I need to remember every one of her sighs and gestures, every movement and the whole feel of this experience. I can’t treat this casually. It’s not, and every time we come together needs to matter and be important.