by Lee Savino
“You have an air hockey table. And a pool table,” I gasp, delighted. If my mechanic had a waiting room like this, I’d be better about getting my car’s oil changed. “This place is awesome.”
“You want to play?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty competitive.” I lean over the mini rink, giving him a heart-stopping view of my breasts. “I’ll do anything to win.”
“What do I get if I let you?”
“Whatever you want.” I saunter over to the pool table. “So how does this work?” I chalk the end of a cue.
“Bend over and I’ll show you.”
I obey. “Like this?”
“Just like that.” He runs a hand up my back before he covers me with his body and guides me into position. “And then you just...” The cue strokes forward. The cue ball hits the red ball with a delicious snick. The three rolls right into the pocket.
“We did it. What’s my reward?”
His hands slide up my legs, grip my panties. The next thing I know, his arms flex around me and my ruined thong flutters to the floor.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp. He just ripped my underwear off.
His big hand cups my ass under the dress. “What did I tell you about swearing?” he asks, just as his palm connects with my right butt cheek, hard.
“I thought you were joking!”
“I should put you over my knee,” he growls, and smacks my butt again. At the sting, arousal spikes through me. My legs give out. I collapse on the pool table, panting.
“You know the rules.”
I nod.
“Say, ‘Yes, daddy,’” he commands.
“Yes, daddy,” I repeat, and his right hand comes between my legs rewarding me with the most delicious touch. His left arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place. I let my head rest on his chest, intent on the movement of his fingers. He strokes me to the edge and then withdraws.
“Not fair!” I cry as he pulls away. My pussy throbs.
“Later,” he says, and hugs me to him as he pulls out his cellphone and calmly orders a pizza. I’m not hungry for anything but Bear. You’d think I’d be used to him playing the long game. I caress his jean-clad crotch and he catches my wrist, shaking his head a little.
I pout at him until he hangs up. “You ripped my underwear.”
“I’ll buy you a new pair.”
“Daddy Morebucks.”
His chuckle is an earthquake under my cheek. I wriggle upwards and find his mouth and then we’re kissing, lips pulling and persuading, a climax-of-the-movie kiss. After a moment, he stands, taking me with him. My legs wrap around him as he strides to the vintage Cadillac. He lays me back and my hair spills out of my updo, auburn splashing across the red paint. One of Bear’s big hands grips my calf, hitching it higher. I’m open and angled to fit his body between my legs.
“Wait—what about the pizza?”
“What about it?” He pulls me close and presses forward. The Cadillac is the right height for him to take me. All he has to do is unzip his jeans and free himself. “Sawyer said you like a little exhibitionism.”
A laugh stutters out of me. His hips roll against me, stealing my thoughts and my breaths, one by one. I hook a leg around his waist and grind against him, not caring that I’ll leave a wet spot on his jeans.
“Please.” I brace against the car hood, straining towards him.
Bear slips a hand under my bottom. “You want this?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” In a moment of inspiration, I unzip the bodice and strip the spaghetti straps down. The top was too tight to wear a bra. My breasts spill out and I arch my back, presenting them to his touch.
“Fu—” he almost swears.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I breathe.
He pulls a condom out of his pocket before he shucks down his jeans and tugs me against him. I watch, panting, as he sheaths his cock. He finds my entrance and presses slowly forward, easing in as my legs tremble and my body stretches around him.
He’s not smiling, but he’s beautiful. I lay a hand against his taut jaw, then slide it to the back of his neck to hold on.
Each thrust is its own punishment and reward. I dig my nails into giant flexing muscles and let my orgasm rise.
“I... I can’t… I’m gonna...”
“Come, baby,” he says, and I shake apart.
“Omigod, omigod…”
Bear slams into me, one hand braced by my head, the other holding my leg. My first climax rolls through me and washes back into a second. And still he fucks me. He is immortal, he’s a god. This will never end.
My ears ring with my cries, I grip Bear so hard I’m sure I’ve drawn blood. Catching my breath between climaxes, I surge upwards and bite his neck.
Bear’s body jerks. His hips snap into me a final time, grinding down as he finds his release. I surrender, my body melting into his, accepting the final plundering thrust, showering him with kisses and cooing adoration. His lips find mine, but he lets me lead, sweet and quiet worship.
Satisfied, I lean back. For once, his record cool is shattered. His eyes are open, vulnerable, searching my face.
I lick my lips. “Thank you, daddy.” I try for Marilyn Monroe levels of coy, but my voice cracks a little.
It was supposed to be a game, a fling. The most important rule: “don’t get attached.” Grab your orgasm and run.
This is not just sex. How can we just walk away from this?
“I guess I can orgasm with a guy.” I let my arms fall away and lean back to tug up my dress. Pulling away, even as we’re still connected. He’s still inside me.
“Evie, I…”
I press a finger to his lips. He can’t speak and break the spell. As it is, I’m not sure if I’m going to leave with my heart intact.
“Listen—” he starts when the shop buzzer makes me lurch against him.
“Pizza delivery!”
“Leave it on the stoop,” Bear shouts, and I burst out laughing.
Bear’s office has a couch. After cleaning me up, he carries me there and feeds me pizza. A girl could get used to this.
You will not get used to this, I scold. You love ‘em and leave ‘em now, remember?
The big screen in the game room has a movie silently playing. Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in a blue convertible. Poise, elegance. I try not to slurp cheese off my last slice. I do need the calories. Bear strokes my calf absently.
“When is the wedding?”
“What?” I squawk. “Oh, yes. My cousin’s wedding. It’s, uh, in two weeks.”
I wait for him to say more but he does not. I finish my meal and crawl up on his lap. He hasn’t said much since our mutual Cum-aggedon. I know he felt it like I did. In my experience, guys tend to ignore those feelings. They date me for a bit until my weirdness starts to grate, then they leave me for someone thinner. If she’d stick to a diet, maybe she could keep a man. My Auntie Jen has one solution. I have another: don’t try to keep one.
“This was fun,” I sigh.
A smile ghosts over Bear’s mouth. “I meant for us to end up in bed.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur, stroking his short hair. “We have plenty of time.” I say it before I remember it’s not true.
Bear goes quiet for a while, gripping my hips with a troubled look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Why do I get the feeling you have one foot out the door?”
“Because after a few more nights together, the competition’s over. Don’t be sad.” I settle into his lap, cuddling as he strokes me in thoughtful silence.
“Spend the night with me,” he whispers.
“Tonight?”
“Come see the hot tub.”
“I still don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Do you need one?”
Oh my.
“Glass of wine?” Bear calls, heading to his kitchen.
“Sounds good.” I sashay slowly behind him. Am I really doing this? I take a deep breath and accept the wine. Liquid courage.
“Drink that, and I’ll get the tub goin’.”
Geez. I take a gulp of Chardonnay. There’s not enough liquid in the world to give me courage to bare my body in front of my dream man.
“Are we really doing this?” I wrinkle my nose. “Skinny dipping?”
He chuckles softly. “Bedroom. I have a surprise for you.”
“Another vibrator?” I raise a brow.
“You’ll see.” He ushers me on with a hand on my back, switching on the light to his bedroom and guiding me to the bed. He’s already hard, his ready erection brushing my back. I’m about to grind my ass on him and get this party started when I notice the open box on the bed. Inside are a few baby blue pieces of fat string. I gulp.
A bikini. Right up there with a dressing room mirror as my nemesis.
Bear’s heat hits my back as he wraps huge arms around me. “You can wear this or nothing.”
“Door number three?”
“Third option is you wear what I choose... but with a red ass.”
“I’ll try the bikini.”
He kisses my neck and leaves me to it. I approach the bed like it holds a snake about to bite. With two fingers I pick up the miniscule bathing suit and bare my teeth. I have shoe laces thicker than the stringy bottoms. And the top, I only hope the two triangles are enough to tame my ample breasts. Otherwise, the neighbors will get a show.
A knock on the door. “Evie? Need help?”
“No, I got it! One sec.” I rush to slip into the two pieces, tying and fastening, shifting the pieces of fabric to contain my curves. The bikini does a token job of hiding my naughty bits, displaying more than it shelters. My lingerie covers more skin.
I stride out of the bedroom before I lose my nerve. “Bear?”
“Out here,” he calls from the back deck. I head through his back room and brush a stack of towels on the washing machine. Grabbing one, I wind it around me. Good thing these towels are large, big as a sheet. I traipse out in my makeshift toga, carrying another towel for Bear. He’s already in the hot tub, but maybe I can distract him while I whip away my towel and slip under the water like a magician doing a trick. I could shake the extra towel like a matador, but he’s Bear, not Bull. There has to be a way to execute this maneuver—
“Evie,” Bear calls and I realize I’ve been standing beside the hot tub, lost in thought.
“Yes?”
“Baby,” he’s smiling. “Lose the towel.”
I set his down and hold the one around me higher as I step into the water. I try to think of a moviestar to model, but my mind is blank.
The towel snags on something and I yelp, clutching it tighter. I look around but the something the towel snagged on is Bear’s hand. He gives a tug and I toss the towel away, sitting real fast. There. I slip under the water, relaxing as the ripples hide my dimpled thighs. Having saved my towel, Bear turns to me with a wide, shark’s grin. He starts for me and I press back into a corner.
“I love the water,” I blurt to distract him. “Auntie Jen took me and my cousin to the pool every summer.”
It works. He takes a seat and leans back.
“For years, all the way through middle school. Of course, when I turned thirteen, she made me wear a t-shirt over my bathing suit. I was well-endowed, even then.”
He’s listening, but he reaches down and seizes my ankle, pulling my foot into his lap where he can knead it.
“It was weird to have breasts that young. Grown men hit on me.”
His strong fingers rub my calf.
“They were shocked when I told them how young I was. I had the body of a woman, I wanted to be girl.”
“And now?” His hands work past my knee, massaging my entire leg.
“I still want to be thin. I have an hourglass figure with a ton of sand. A fudge ton. Literally, created by fudge.”
Bear’s lips purse.
“Tell me you don’t like thin women,” I challenge before he can correct me.
“I like thin women,” he shrugs.
I stiffen.
“But I love this.” He’s gotten closer, his hands caressing my sides under the water, eyes on my breasts. “Baby, if you can look like this—”
“I have a belly,” I pout.
He frowns, eyebrows drawing together as he reluctantly drops his gaze below my nipples. “Oh look, you do.” His big hand slides over my pooch, completely covering it. He can hold my whole dang belly chub in the palm of one hand. “It’s so cute.”
Cute? Cute?! Years of agonized mirror time, eating chalky protein bars in place of meals, wearing t-shirts over my tankini to cover my body—and he says, ‘Cute?’
My head explodes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He must have noticed the smoking hole where my head used to be.
“Cute…” I choke out.
“Yeah,” his thumb strokes up and down, and all the blood my head doesn’t need rushes to my fun zone. “And soft. So soft,” his head dips, his hair brushing the tops of my sensitized breasts as he nuzzles between them. “And sweet.” His hand dips into the triangle of fabric covering my pussy. His fingers hit their target. A minute later, the rest of me explodes.
Bear watches me writhe, a lazy happiness crinkling his eyes. “I take it back,” he says. His thumb at my nipple, stroking, stroking. “If you lose an ounce, I’ll take a belt to your ass.”
With effort, I pull my brain back together. “Is that really a threat?”
“Yeah.” He grips my hips and pulls me onto his lap, and I forget how to talk again. I forget everything and let him pull me under. I don’t surface until we’re back in bed, my wet hair spread onto towel covering the pillow, the rest of me wrapped in Bear. I don’t even protest when Bear whispers, “Oh, and Evie? Sawyer says pack the suit for his turn with you.”
ROUND 4
“You’re quiet.” Sawyer grabs a bag of gear out of the back of his Jeep, and catches my hand, pulling me towards the beach.
“I’m wearing a bikini. In public.”
“You look great.” His smile dazzles. I hold his hand and keep my cover up closed with the other.
Sawyer leads me down the dunes to an empty stretch of sand. Two cliffs rise on either side of the beach like sentinels. There’s no one here but birds.
“What is this place?”
“The wildlife sanctuary. Don’t worry, I got permission.” He pauses to dig out a camera from his bag and sling it over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I ask a bit nervously.
“I’m doing a photography session with a model.”
“Okay. Who’s the model?”
Sawyer just looks at me.
“Oh no. Come on.”
He fights a smile.
“Awww,” I whine. “Do I have to?”
He advances, grinning. His teeth are shark white. When he gets close, he tugs me forward by my hips, bringing me the rest of the way. It never fails to get me hot, the way he and Bear manhandle me.
“I want you to know how beautiful you are.”
My blush spreads like a red tide over my exposed skin. So, basically, my entire body, all but a few inches.
“Say, ‘yes, daddy.’”
Those are the magic words. I tingle just reciting them—Bear has me primed for a reward with those magic words. “Yes, daddy.”
Still smiling, he draws me to a few rocks and has me sit. I get to keep my gauzy cover up, for now. Not that the see-through fabric is doing much to camouflage my body. He tugs my hair tie out and my hair tumbles around my face.
“There,” he breathes. “Just like that. Don’t move.”
“Or else?”
“I’ll tie you up.” I wait for him to grin, but he’s perfectly serious. He backs away and starts setting up equipment. I bite my lip and look out at the ocean.
“That’s it, Evie. Just relax.”
I flinch at the sound of the shutter.
“Wait.” He strides forward, catches my chin and kisses the hell out of me. His
lips leave mine for a moment; I make a sound like “nuuuh.”
“Much better,” he says. I barely note when he backs away and starts taking pictures.
The sun beats down, bathing our fearless heroine in radiant light. Her red hair shimmers. She moves, and it spills across her glorious chest. Click goes the camera shutter.
I am a model. I am an object of beauty with creamy skin and auburn locks, wearing nothing but a translucent robe and a few pieces of fat string. I am ephemeral.
Slowly, I strip off my coverall. I’m the star in my own movie, crossing the beach, staring at the horizon. Click goes the camera shutter. I shield my eyes a moment. Click, click, click. Then I head towards the surf, a sea goddess, a mermaid returning home.
The ocean surges to greet me, covering my feet with green froth and pieces of seaweed.
“Ygghah!!” I gasp, staggering back. The water is absolutely freezing.
“Yeah, it’s cold.” Sawyer laughs like a crazy man.
“How do you surf in this?”
He shrugs. “Wetsuits. Keep going. What were you going to do?”
“I was going to get in the water, but it’s too cold.” My mermaid dreams are dashed.
“Sometimes you gotta suffer for art.”
“Is that what this is? Art?” I mutter, but I do my best. I dance in the surf until my toes are numb. I retreat to dry land until the sun bakes me. My sunscreen is long gone. Sawyer moves around me, capturing moments with each decisive click. He’s in the zone, totally focused.
I decide to seduce him.
“Mmmm,” I murmur, sliding my hands down my lush body. My breasts really are a work of art. I could just tug this string and they’d be free…
I wait a moment for Sawyer to stop and ask what I’m doing. When he doesn’t, I continue. I’m topless, lounging in the surf. I roll in the sand. I tousle my hair and look over my shoulder, coy. I stretch like a cat in the sun.
“Yes,” Sawyer murmurs, hot and husky like I’m pleasuring him. “That’s it, baby. Keep going.”
I grow hot enough to return to the water. I lie half in, half out of the surf, letting the water rush over me. My nipples are hard enough to cut glass.
My cheeks are hot. I’ve gone pink like undercooked meat. Another hour and I’ll be a lobster. Not to mention the sand up in my crotch, turning my bikini bottoms into sandpaper. My hair’s stringing, I’m sweaty and... gah, how do bikini models do it?