by S. L. Scott
“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.
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 stomach 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.
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.
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.
Her body works against mine, her pull grounding me to her, pushing me to give into her own demanding movements. She breaks away from my mouth, gasping for air, but her eyes are still closed. I pick up my pace and add a hip move I know will feel good to my beautiful girlfriend.
I just didn’t count on it feeling so fucking incredible for me when giving her my all. With one deep thrust, I stop, squeezing my eyes shut and take a deep breath desperately trying to stave off my own undoing.
She looks up at me as I open my eyes. Cupping my face, she asks with only a breath between us, “Are you okay?”
Once again, I look beyond the tranquil emerald flecks in the center of her green eyes, and reply, “I love you, Mallory.”
“I love you, too.”
Dropping my head against her forehead, my emotions get the best of me. “I need all of you. Everything.”
“Look at me, Evan.” When I do, she says, “You have all of me. I’m yours, completely.” She plants a sweet kiss on my lips and then with her heels, encourages me to start moving again.
I do. I start moving and thrusting, letting my mind get washed into its own oblivion of Mallory goodness. And like my mind, my body follows swiftly as I release while buried inside. When comprehension returns, I open my eyes to find her watching me intently as if doing some memorizing herself.
She sighs contentedly and says, “I wish I could capture that face on film.”
I drop on top of her, smiling but exhausted, and rest my head snuggled to her neck as it dawns on me what she’s talking about. “My come face? You want a picture of my come face?” I chuckle at the notion.
She rubs my back gently, dragging her nails lightly along my skin giving me goose bumps and relaxing me as she explains, “Yes, your come face. You’re beautiful all the time, but when you orgasm, you’re feral and sexy as hell.”
I laugh a little harder, feeling exhaustion starting to kick in. “Maybe one day I’ll let you take a pic, but I’m going to need one of you in return.”
A satiated smile lifts the corners of her mouth up. “That would be only fair.”
She snuggles down, pulling the blankets around us and we fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and mingling breaths, soft words of love, and hearts, minds and bodies satisfied.
I don’t like waking up alone anymore. It’s disconcerting to me.
My arms grapple the vast emptiness of the space beside me and my eyes pop open in response. I look around. “Mallory?” tumbles fr
om my mouth without thought, but on instinct.
Sitting up, I find only silence surrounding me. “Mallory?” Flipping the covers off my body, I swing my legs over the edge and walk into the bathroom, still calling her name. “Mallory?”
I don’t know why I feel like something is wrong, but when I walk through the house, still naked from our earlier activities, frantic thoughts race through my brain. I open the back door to see if she’s out there. “Mallory?” I call loudly, but still don’t receive an answer.
Running back in, I grab a pair of shorts from the floor, shoving one leg quickly in and almost tripping to get the other one in as I hurry for the front door. I race by the pool, zipping my pants up, still calling her name.
I rush inside the main house, buttoning the top button of my shorts, out of breath from anxiety, and halt instantly. I hear her. I hear her talking. I hear her laughing. I also hear Ms. Chart laughing. Calm overrides all my worries and I exhale, loudly.
Then I call her, softer in tone, more relaxed, and hopeful. “Mallory?”
“Oh, there he is now.” I hear her before I see her coming from Ms. Chart’s bedroom with a bright smile on her face.
Surprising me, she jumps up on me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I catch her, holding her by her bottom. I’m liking this new greeting that she’s been giving me lately. I squeeze her ass for good measure.
“Good morning, babe,” she says, kissing me on the lips.
“I think it’s more like afternoon, Mallory,” Ms. Chart corrects her playfully then lovingly scolds me, “Evan, you’ve slept half the day away. You shouldn’t keep your guests waiting like that.”