by Zara Asher
‘Harder,’ she heard herself say. He groaned as he pushed again, the tip of his cock bouncing off the top of her cervix, which made her squeal.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said as he pulled back slightly.
‘No, don’t be, I love it. Keep going.’ She rocked her buttocks into his chest, moving in time to his rhythmical thrusts. Holding her tight with one arm across her chest, he used his other to slip down to her butt, squeezing a cheek and lifting it while parting her legs to get direct access to her clit. When his fingers found the swollen and throbbing part of her body, she jumped, the touch taking her breath away. She felt his cock twitch inside her. It was such a good feeling to welcome him into her body. If she could stay like this for the next thirty odd hours, she would.
She’d never had sex like it. Her previous lovers had just opened her legs, thrust in and banged away like the devil, until they’d collapsed on top of her. One had even fallen asleep on her chest and almost stopped her breathing. She’d felt cheated and angry as she’d pushed him off and used her fingers to bring herself to an orgasm, but the orgasms she’d had like that were never totally satisfying. There was always something lacking, until last night, when this handsome man had given her oral at the same time as she’d pleasured him. Her orgasm had been so strong that she’d risen off the bed, her muscles aching in the aftermath and intensity of pleasure waves.
David’s fingers rubbed faster, in circles around her clitoris as his strokes began to speed up. He held her tightly, relieving the pressure on her arms while he pulled out and plunged in over and over. She’d always felt shame when she’d had sex, but with him, it just felt so right.
This was one of her fantasies. Making love outside was hot. Ok, a yacht in the middle of the ocean was as private as you could get, but it was still outside, she was naked, and having the best sex of her life.
She felt her orgasm tip on the edge of the precipice as her body began to tense. He could feel it too as he began to moan, his breath rasping while he pounded his body against her, his hips slapping against her behind. The sensations were new, and surprised her with the intensity of feeling. She felt full to bursting point, with his dick pounding in and out. She wanted to have all of him, she wanted to feel him at the point of his orgasm. She heard his breathing change as his body began to spasm, just as she felt herself tip over the edge, her vagina squeezing every last drop of his orgasm while he shuddered behind her, his body lost in its own pleasure.
When their breathing became more controlled, he slid himself out to dispose of the condom. ‘Not the sexiest job in the world,’ he grinned as he grabbed the end to pull it off. She turned round, her naked body spread on the sun lounger as she sipped from the glass of wine. There was no point in hiding it from this man after what they’d just done.
‘Fuck, you’re beautiful, do you know that?’ he said to her, his hand smoothing his hair before he drank his own glass of wine.
‘Are you allowed to be drunk in charge of a yacht?’ she teased.
‘Christ, I’ll never get drunk if we keep doing this. And you need sun cream on those boobs, or they’ll burn like hell and we won’t be up to anything tonight!’ His face was a picture of concern and lust. She wasn’t sure which she liked best, but she was being brazen and nobody would care. She opened her legs, inviting him in for a closer look. She saw his cock began to stiffen again, as his eyes flew open, obviously not finished yet.
Enticingly, she spread sun cream on her own body, sliding it down her breasts and slipping her own fingers between her legs as she touched her lips and clitoris. ‘Can’t be too careful in the sun,’ she said, licking her lips as he just stared at her, too enthralled to say anything. His hand strayed to his growing cock as he slid a few fingers along its length, now already fully sprung into life.
‘You’re going to kill me with that body.’
She laughed, a rich, smooth and teasing laugh. She lifted her glass of wine and trickled it between her legs, soothing the recently swollen clit.
‘Would you like some wine?’ she teased, spreading her legs wider. ‘I want to feel your tongue again.’ She licked her lips as she pushed herself up and knelt in front of him, taking the swollen tip of his cock into her mouth. He stepped back, as his body shuddered in response to her touch. Lifting her up, he laid her back down on the sun bed, pushed her legs open and knelt between her knees. Using one hand to spread her lips tight, opening her up fully, he blew on her engorged sex, then concentrated on circling her throbbing clit with his tongue.
Her back arched as his tongue flicked her sensitive spot, a finger entering her to tickle her G-Spot. She fisted his hair, pulling his face closer, as he shifted enough for her to get her hands on his cock, milking it as he licked at her, his tongue causing her to spasm in delight. She felt his body begin to go rigid.
‘Bloody hell, I’m going to come if you keep doing that.’
She moaned and cried out as the pre stages of her own orgasm sizzled up her nerves. She pumped his thick cock faster, as his tongue worked its magic. He growled as his orgasm began to hit, and she lifted her legs above his head, resting her feet on his shoulders as her bottom lifted off the sun bed while she climaxed again, in massive waves that took her breath away. This time, he didn’t pull away. He leaned forward, yanking her into a sitting position. He grabbed the hair at the base of her neck and kissed her hard, his tongue finding its way into her mouth, possessing her fully while his breathing calmed.
Pulling away, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, taking a matching one to wrap around his own waist. ‘If I keep seeing you naked, this is going to go on all day!’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she teased, slipping open her towel at the front, taking his fingers and using them to tickle her nipples.’
‘Absolutely nothing,’ he said as he bent forward to gently nibble her nipples with his teeth, then closed the towel again. ‘Apart from the fact I’ve booked us into a restaurant for tonight and if we keep this up, we’ll never make it, or you’ll end up so sore we have to stop.’
‘I’ll never be sore enough to stop your tongue licking me!’
‘I’ve created a monster,’ he grinned. ‘In the nicest possible way of course!’
Chapter 5
David Burton’s erection had pinged up instantly when he first saw Taylor Griffiths, after the leather bag hit him. For a second, he thought he’d been targeted, then he’d seen her face, and her shame, and then his blasted cock had gone and got a whole new life of its own. He’d been uncomfortable talking to her, as his attraction was instant. He thought she’d notice. It was blasted well sticking out, a great thumping hard on in the middle of the street, with plenty of people around to notice.
He’d been relieved when she’d dropped her receipt. It had given him a chance to rearrange his meat and two veg, while letting him know her name and where she was staying. He’d put her name and hotel into his diary, but hadn’t expected to use it. His dick had other ideas, and persuaded him to visit her hotel in the evening. He was tempted to join her for coffee when she’d finished her meal, but he’d bottled it. She’d been sitting casually, her jeans tight, and her shirt straining at the buttons, but he couldn’t do it. What was he supposed to say?
Erm, excuse me, are you the one who split my lip earlier today? Oh yes, that’s right, I did know where you were staying, and yes, I have got stalker tendencies that cause me to run around chasing every pretty girl I meet. Oh, you want to hit me again? Take your best shot, but feel free to call the police. I deserve it anyway for having sexual fantasies about a woman I’ve only met for a couple of minutes. .
She’d often glanced around the room, as if she was expecting company. Waiting to see who she’d be with, he’d nursed a few beers. She’d finished her meal alone, but looked lonely. Maybe it was the way she turned her head, or rubbed her eyes when she used her phone, but she seemed sad.
Convincing himself it was the right thing to do, he walked away, wondering if she’d been ho
ping he’d turn up at the hotel, or if she’d been stood up. It didn’t make sense, as he’d have expected her to order room service and chill out in front of a good movie? Whatever it was that he was feeling, it was new to him, and right now, he didn’t need any more complications.
It all changed the next morning, when her name came up on his appointments calendar. His cock had done its thing again, springing into life as he read her name. Just thinking about her was turning his body into a raging sex craving machine.
Her questions were direct, and surprised him. Instead of making him dislike her, he found himself interested by her honest questions and her obviously honest reactions. There were no airs and graces, and no deceptive lies or trickery.
Inviting her to the yacht was a spur of the moment decision. He hadn’t expected her to actually agree to spending forty eight hours with him. He knew she felt the attraction between them too, he just didn’t know exactly what he was going to do about it.
When she’d sucked his cock, then massaged his balls, he thought he’d explode with the unfamiliar sensations. It wasn’t only her first time with oral sex, it was his too. That was one of his secrets, and it would stay that way.
In his past, sex was a means to an end. He’d mostly screwed women when he was high, remembering very little about it. He’d vowed years ago that he’d only have sex when it was with someone special, and here he was, getting hot, hard and steamy for someone he’d just met. Maybe it was just what he needed to forgive himself, and move on with a normal life.
When he’d woken after the first morning on the yacht, David had looked at her glowing eyes, his guilt at seducing the woman who might be able to redeem his reputation growing. Damn, but she was hot. For someone who’d never had oral sex before, she did a fine job of milking his cock with her mouth. He just didn’t want her delving too much into his past as she wouldn’t like what she’d find. It was in the past, and that’s where he wanted it to stay.
His days of being a victim were over. They’d been over for years, for about the same length of time since he last had sex, but he’d never relaxed. He’d been driven when he began his shipping business, working from a garage in London. He’d moved to Leeds when he first landed a contract for furniture removal, and his business had gone from strength to strength. He knew he’d been lucky. He’d had as much chance of not landing that contract as he had of getting it. His life would be dramatically different if he’d been unsuccessful, and it often kept him awake at night.
He didn’t know what it was about Taylor Griffiths, whether it was the brown hair, the blue gray eyes, or the hourglass figure, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d proved to himself that money hadn’t made him completely happy. He was always driven to do more. Yes, he had plenty material things, but he’d not allowed himself to get close to anyone. Not since……but he couldn’t think about that now. It was too painful.
In the meantime, he had Alan Inglebrook to worry about. Alan was one of the good guys, a decent lad who’d used the pretence of gang membership to work hard for the local kids in his area. David had kept him at arms length, but had funded some of his work on community projects and fundraisers. Alan wanted to show these kids the other side of life. A side that didn’t include beatings, murder, bad attitudes and thieving for a living.
David had visited some of the events Alan laid on, as a member of the public. He was always humbled by the kids. They’d spent most of their lives in inner city gangs, some with alcoholics or drug addicts for parents, and no positive role models. Just watching these youths kick sand on the beach after padding in the sea, or take on a leadership challenge to cross a stream using teamwork, was humbling. They had the skills and they had the dedication. They just didn’t have the opportunity to get out of the lives they’d led. All too often, he’d hear of a lad who was well thought of being killed in a gang fight. He’d taken on as many of the lads as he could in his business, but there were only so many kids he could save.
She was showering after their marathon morning session and then, they would head back to shore for lunch and a lazy afternoon before checking into a hotel for the evening. As much as he’d like to come back offshore for another night and keep her for himself, the weather forecast wasn’t good enough for his nautical skills, and the boat was too small to have his expert sailor of a PA on board at the same time.
‘What’s next for today?’ Taylor asked when he went to tell her about the change of plans. She was towel drying her hair, wearing the bikini and shorts that tormented his wedding tackle. Down boy, he thought to himself.
‘Change of plan, there’s a storm brewing so we’re staying ashore tonight. I’ve booked a suite with adjoining bedrooms.’ Her face fell. Damn, she looked disappointed, but so was he.
‘Whatever’s good for you,’ she said, her face instantly recovering and giving him her best smile. He’d make sure she enjoyed herself while she was with him. He suspected this was just a pleasant affair for her, an excuse for a good time with a wealthy man, or perhaps they were just two lonely people making each other feel better for a while, but he was having trouble thinking about anything other than Taylor Griffiths.
There was no future for them as a couple, especially if the people out to get Alan Inglebrook decided to go for him too. That’s why he’d whisked her away to Cannes, away from prying eyes. He hadn’t counted on spending so much time ashore.
###
It was a subdued Taylor that accompanied him ashore. His PA would check their bags in, while he took Taylor for a walk along the beach, then a late lunch before a swim at the hotel.
Walking along the golden beaches of Cannes, he felt happier than he should. She was a good looking woman. ‘We’re going to Chavabox at nine tonight. Have you got anything suitable to wear, or should we stop off and get you something appropriate?’
‘I have a blue dress and silver sandals, so I think I’m good.’ She slipped off her flip flops, while he held his shoes in his hands, moving towards the water’s edge to paddle in the sea. She slipped her hand into his and it felt good. He tried to imagine having her by his side every day, and then shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself.
The water lapped over their feet, warm and inviting, as their toes slipped into the sludgy sand below.
‘It’s a good exfoliator you know, the sand.’ She looked into his face with dancing eyes, squinting in the sunshine, despite her transitional lenses, which darkened at the glare. He’d never found a woman with specs beautiful before, but seeing her wearing them made him realise how silly he’d been. Glasses can make a woman look exceptionally beautiful and mysterious.
She’d carried on talking about how sand pampers your feet to make them radiant and soft if it’s rinsed off properly and feet are patted dry with an application of moisturizer. She was all he could think of. He tried not to concentrate on the jealous glances of women sunbathing on the sand, and the admiring men in their short trunks. He had to consciously focus on her words, to stop his nether regions bursting into life again. Public humiliation on a beach would not be a good thing.
On a quieter stretch of beach, hearing a woman scream, he turned abruptly to find a woman waving her arms madly. She didn’t speak English, but when she pointed out to the sea, it was obvious what she meant. His heart sank as he realized she couldn’t swim, and there were few people around.
Not thinking, he dropped his shoes and waded out into the water, plunging in when he was deep enough to swim as fast as he could. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. He just acted, as auto-pilot took over.
‘David,’ he heard Taylor shout in the distance as she waded out to her knees. He’d glanced back, but kept going, he had to keep going, he had to.
‘Find a lifeguard,’ he shouted, but she couldn’t hear him. He’d just have to hope there was someone close by. If there’s one thing he did know, it was that French lifeguards were excellent, but there wasn’t time for that now.
Ploughing on, adrenaline p
umped through his veins as he reached his target, holding on to the inflatable dingy that held two little blonde heads, screaming and crying in terror. They’d clutched at his head, pushing him under in their panic, so he pulled the rope out to arms length, motioning to them to lie still in the dingy. He began to fight against the water, treading back towards the shore as he pulled the dinghy with him. Parents are warned often enough not to let kids go to sea in dinghies, but they don’t listen. He was angry with their mother, and concerned about the kids at the same time. He’d no idea what the children were saying and the only sensible thing he could think to do was sing a lullaby in English, but his chest was beginning to explode with the effort. He looked back, the shore still looking far away, but he seemed to be making progress. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on treading the water, getting the two little blondes back to their mum. He was just grateful that the water was warm. He knew that in the English Channel or the Atlantic, he’d be unlikely to make it with the cold. He ploughed on as the children settled down a little, their screams lulling into hushed sobs with the presence of an adult. They couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, and terrified. He’d done the right thing, but his legs were beginning to feel tired.
He knew he was close to shore when a pair of arms supported his neck, with another pair prizing the rope from his hands. The lifeguards expertly guided both David and the dinghy back to safety. A crowd had gathered at the shoreline as the alarm had been raised. He was helped onto the sand with wobbling legs, where he flopped down, taking a few minutes to fully get his breath back. By god, he’d done it. He’d turned that dinghy round and brought those two little blondes back to shore before they’d drifted too far out, or fallen into the water.
‘Ok sir?’ the lifeguard asked, making the sign with his thumb and forefinger. ‘The girls are fine. A little shaken up, but otherwise they’ll be ok.’