Deep Diving

by Cate Ellink

  It takes far too long to get to his place, get rid of gear, and have his naked body against mine, his mouth open to my probing, desperate tongue. When he steps back, I’m panting, trying to suck air quickly enough to devour him again.

  ‘Steady. We have all night.’

  ‘You might but some bastard has played me until I’m ready to crack. I can’t wait any longer.’ I do a pretty good impression of a growl, for all my breathlessness.

  ‘You made the rules, Sam.’ Cooper steps back and gives me the grin that turns my legs to liquid. I groan as I sink onto the floor.

  I’m too old to have a tantrum but that’s what I want to do. I’m like a two-year-old child frustrated beyond the point of comprehension. I want to thump my fists and kick my legs. I want to scream. But he’s right. I did make the rules. I started this game of walking away after teasing… Wish I’d known first that I was playing with a master.

  ‘What’s the plan, Cooper? You’ve got me at breaking point, now what?’

  Cooper leans down and picks me up as if I weigh nothing. He deposits a kiss against my lips before I land on the bed. It’s not arousing, not tender, not romantic, but Lord, it feels every one of those things.

  ‘I want to watch you come.’ He says it in the most matter-of-fact tone, yet they’re possibly the most arousing words he could utter. As if I need any more arousal.

  ‘What?’ There’s no demand in my question. It’s more a request for clarification given in a whisper. I have no qualms about performing for Cooper. I openly admire his body and he, mine.

  ‘I want to watch you. I want you to make yourself come and I want to watch you do it.’

  My groan is low but full of lust. ‘I could come just listening to you say that.’ It would be so easy.

  He shakes his head. ‘I want to see you touch yourself, I want to know what you like, I want to watch you shatter and be there to pull you together afterwards.’

  They are the most romantic words I’ve ever heard. Without further thought my hand slips between my thighs and I open my cunt lips with my finger and thumb, my forefinger stroking into the wetness as the lips part.

  ‘Like this?’ I ask as he growls, drowning out my words.

  Expressive face and eyes, not only the growl, show me how much he enjoys this. His eyes — wide, dark and staring — ensure my exhibitionism gene kicks in. Spreading my legs wide, angled so he can see, my finger caresses, teases and torments not only me but him. When his lips part, his nostrils flare, and his mouth drops open, I press my fingers harder. Move them faster. Circle my vagina until I feel the muscles relaxing, the hole opening. Soaked with my juices, the scent heavy in the air, I keep stroking for him, for me.

  Who would believe I could get off on this? I’m no prude. I’ve been sexually active for years. But Cooper’s drawn out a different side of me and I adore this exploration.

  His hand drifts over his swollen cock but doesn’t stop, just a hesitation and then he leans on the bed with both hands, peering at me. His upper arms swell, forearms with sinews standing high. I slip my forefinger inside, making sure my legs are wide and angled for Cooper to see.

  ‘Fuck, yes.’

  ‘Why don’t you join in?’ I know he won’t but I have a half-baked idea.

  He shakes his head. ‘I want to watch.’

  ‘If you touch yourself, then I could watch you too.’ My throat dries at the thought. Watching each other bring pleasure to ourselves. Oh, please.

  There’s a heartbeat of stillness where our gazes lock in a wordless tussle. While I wait for his decision, I slide my forefinger across my clit and the first wave of shivers pass through me. My eyes lose focus and then close, slowly, like the pleasure is too great to hurry. Cooper groans and the bed moves. My stomach clenches and I’m hoping his cock will fill me, but no smothering warmth comes close.

  Opening my eyes I’m met by the sight of Cooper’s cock clenched in his fist. His arm muscles bulge as he strokes steadily. And then he moves in a manner to make his pecs dance.

  ‘Oh, God, yes.’ My voice is worshipful and begging at once. Thick with lust. Dry with need.

  He responds by sucking in a breath and his abdomen clenches. Cobblestones of muscles tensing and bulging across his stomach. I groan and his fist moves faster, his cock peeking out and then hiding from view.

  I’m so slick, my fingers are soaked as I continue to alternately fill and frig myself. Waves of shivers turn to harder shudders as I watch Cooper’s dancing muscles. I want more. So much more.

  ‘Please, let me see your back.’ Breathless girl has returned but Cooper doesn’t seem to mind.

  He turns slowly, his head twisting to keep me in sight over his shoulder. His back is awash with rippling muscles. His butt is two globes of high tensile muscle clenching and releasing rhythmically. My mouth hangs open, admiring the view.

  ‘Don’t stop, Sam.’

  Oh, have I stopped? My fingers flex and move. Now one hand holds my lips open while the other is busy touching, probing, rubbing, filling. I wish I had another set of hands to bunch and squeeze my breasts and tweak and tug at my nipples.

  As another wave of shudders runs through me, my head drops back, eyes closed, fighting the feeling, not wanting to lose control yet.

  When I open my eyes Cooper’s butt is clenched, dips hollowing on the outside above his thighs. Then his butt fills out to the glorious rounded domes I want to curl my hands around. My deepening growl has him repeating his butt dance. When I glance up, he’s laughing at me, and I don’t care. His back and butt are magnificent and I don’t care that I’m panting while ogling.

  ‘Are you close, Sam?’ The butt dance stops and he turns towards me again, cock hard in his fist.

  My hand, his muscles, his voice have me at the brink. All I can do is make an incoherent groan.

  His hand fists his cock quickly, he takes a moment to spit on his palm and then fists faster. The muscles of his arms bulge, his chest flexes, his abs squeeze tight, and I’m there.

  ‘Ahhhh…’ Waves of pleasure burst through me. My finger rubs my clit to keep them coming. Wave after wave after wave. Pushing against me, lifting me, riding me high, high, higher. The roaring surf fills my ears, my mind is awash with sound and colours as I’m tumbled in the sea of pleasure.

  And then I’m deposited on the sand, slid quietly to lie in the wash. My hands fall uselessly at my side.

  A groan has me realising that I’ve company and I prise my eyes open to see Cooper’s face a tense mask. His shoulders are huge, muscles bulging. Arms the same. And there’s his fist, rigid. One held against his hip, the other still thrusting along his cock.

  ‘Come on me, Cooper. Let me watch you come.’ It’s a reverent plea. One which has the desired effect.

  The head of his cock beads and then a stream of white spurts. His fist loosens its grip and he milks the seed. A stream followed by dollops of hot come coat my stomach. I lift a finger and slide it through, coating my stomach in warmth. His eyes close momentarily and when they open, I lift my finger to my mouth and suck in the taste. Cooper’s groan matches my own. There’s something wildly decadent about tasting yourself and your man as one.

  Chapter 7

  I intended to leave sometime through the night. I don’t want to fall into the habit of sleeping with Cooper completely. I mean, sex is fine, but staying multiple nights changes the fleeting nature of the game. It makes it more intimate and that’s not something I can afford.

  But somehow I’m still with him when the pre-dawn light wakes me. I’m snuggling against Cooper as if we’re one person, spooning like we’re never to part. His lower leg is thrown across mine, claiming me. His arm wraps around me, holding me close.

  Damn.

  I thought I could maintain perspective, keep this fun, make the sex competitive enough to leave him with more than just a vague memory of me in 10 years’ time. But it’s done something else. Along with being dive buddies, I’ve learned to trust him, to relax with him and to enjoy him. N
one of that is bad but it’s only been five days. My body stiffens as I wonder if I’ve got myself into a situation I’ll regret later. I have five more days and then I’ll…

  I squirm as lips nibble across my nape. A cock hardens, nestled against my butt. A hand closes over my breast and tweaks a tight nipple. A girl could get used to waking up like this.

  ‘Good morning,’ I murmur, and twist around to be caught up in a deep, compelling morning kiss. All concerns evacuate. My brain and body are filled with sex, desire, and pleasing my male god.

  He has other plans. ‘I’ll be back,’ he says as he pulls away and slips from bed. It’s a soft promise carried across the early morning air.

  I watch him walk away. That tight butt moves in rhythm with his back muscles, sinuously, sinfully. My mouth waters. He has an incredible body, a gorgeous personality, is a dive buddy you dream about, a bed buddy you never want to leave, and I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone before. Hell. I’m in strife.

  Cooper’s return stops my meltdown before it has time to really fire up. He places two bowls beside the bed, on my side. He leans over and grins that super sexy smile. My insides go all quivery and silly.

  ‘You distracted me last night.’ He punctuates with a wickedly delicious kiss. ‘I had other plans but maybe they’re better kept for now. Fruit and yoghurt make a delicious breakfast.’

  ‘Yum.’ Fresh fruit and yoghurt do make a delicious breakfast.

  I go to roll over but he pushes against my shoulder. Then he lifts a spoonful of yoghurt and dollops it onto my closed mouth. Laughing, I lick through the dollop, poking my tongue out like a cat lapping.

  While my mouth is half open, he tops the yoghurt with a strawberry poked through my lips. Moaning, I nip against the sweet berry, flavour flooding my mouth. I close my eyes for just a second as I savour and a splat lands on my stomach. Eyes wide, I find yoghurt on my torso, and Cooper’s face grinning. He tops the dollop with a slice of pear standing tall in the yoghurt. A beautiful pear with deliciously feminine curves. While ogling the pear, a smear of yoghurt is spooned between my breasts. I squirm and the strawberry rolls from my mouth to land in this new yoghurt line.

  ‘Nice touch,’ Cooper says as he adds blueberries around the half-eaten strawberry.

  He picks up a raspberry and with his face a picture of concentration, he aligns my nipple with the hole at the top of the raspberry. Gripping my breast, he fits my nipple to the raspberry and then does the same to the other side. My breasts throb from his touch and the tiny pressure of the berry cap.

  My senses flood. The sweet smell of fruit is heady. The slightly sour, yeasty smell of yoghurt as it heats against my flesh reminds me of more carnal scents like me awash with arousal. I squirm, trying to squeeze my thighs together as if that would rid the room of my scent, but Cooper’s hand slips around my right thigh and gently spreads my legs. His left hand drops a slice of mango onto my waxed mons and then he settles it between the lips of my wet, open pussy. He follows with a slice of paw paw. The soft, cool slickness and the musty smell overwhelms me. I moan, low and decadent.

  The paw paw scent and the slick juiciness of mango are doing my head in. What other fruit could go down there? Nothing is more fitting. And then the laugh catches in my throat. Cooper has a banana in his fist. Catching my gaze, he slowly peels it. He is hot decadence, lusty mischief, and barely-reined-in anticipation.

  My breath lodges when he slips the banana between my thighs. Insertion is my first thought and I’m squirming imagining that. How would a banana go inside me? How would he eat it out of me? My heart races and blood pounds, but it’s mostly pounding around my clenched vagina. A throbbing pulse. Cooper’s fingers press me wider. I hope he knows what this is doing to me.

  One glance at his wicked, sexy grin and those dark, dark eyes and he knows.

  He slides the banana longways along my slit so the tip pokes up above the mango and paw paw. Lord, it’s like his cock pressing against me. My skin flares and the banana scent washes across. Cooper dollops yoghurt on my mons and tops it with a mix of berries.

  ‘I think my breakfast is ready.’ He licks his lips slowly. His stare captures and holds mine before slipping down my body. ‘I’m not sure where to start. A meal has never looked so delicious.’

  I think he should start on my lips, but then my nipples clench and maybe he should start there. The scent of banana drifts up and maybe that’s where he should start. Oh, hell, he could start anywhere. ‘Just start.’ My voice is guttural, cracking on the last word, like a growl.

  He chuckles and starts at my lips, probably to stop any further complaints. As if there would be any. Cooper’s always starving and eats like a man who enjoys his food. There won’t be another word of complaint from me.

  His mouth is unrelenting as he kisses and laps the yoghurt from my face. It’s almost a mutual eating as he licks and my tongue swipes. One hand cups his cheek and jaw, so I can guide his face nearer to mine, holding him so I can partake in the feast. My palm is scratched by the holiday stubble, rich and thick on his cheek. I can’t help but rub my hand over his jaw. My fingertips explore the hardness of cheekbone, the strength of jawbone, the tension in the masseter muscles.

  I groan when he pulls away from my face, yoghurt eaten. He turns his lips to my fingers and nips against them before his tongue sweeps across. Moaning again, my head is thrown back against the pillows while I fight the urge to squirm and wiggle. He drops my hand and I clench them into fists, holding still so the fruit doesn’t fall.

  His lips slide between my breasts. Hot, hungry lips on soft, tender flesh. He licks a big long stroke towards my chin and I gurgle with barely-restrained pleasure. He captures my hand with his, opening my fist and threading our fingers together.

  Blueberries and yoghurt. The scent is subtle as he licks, laps and eats. My raspberry-covered nipples throb. Clenched tight they impatiently await his attention but he moves downward after cleaning the blueberries, nudging the half-eaten strawberry down my midline.

  He eats the strawberry from my navel. I don’t see but juice runs over the edge of my bellybutton and pools inside. He laps it, taking care to ensure every dip is followed by a swirl of his tongue that makes my back rise from the bed and my breath catch.

  The pear is gone next time I look and he’s licked away the yoghurt that held it. He moves further down and my thighs tense, my toes curl in anticipation.

  Quickly, he bites the top off the banana and grins as if he’s done something naughty and gotten away with it. In other circumstances I may have laughed but I’m too caught up anticipating the rest of the feast to manage it.

  With a ravenous mouth he cleans the berries and yoghurt from my mons. He eats hungrily, his teeth rasping across my waxed flesh as he cleans up mouthfuls at a time, as if eager to get further. I’m a shuddering mess. My skin alternately tingles, throbs, and pulses. And when he’s not touching it, it aches and burns for him. All the liquid heat of his mouth, his touch, makes me wriggle. Lapping the last bit clean takes no time. I almost wish there was another dollop of yoghurt. He stands and pauses.

  Eyes dark with pleasure, he looks at the half-eaten banana and then at my raspberry-topped breasts. I dare not move. I don’t want him to stop.

  Finally, he prowls to the end of the bed and climbs between my thighs. Air whooshes from my mouth. He glances up from between my thighs and grins. God, he’s pure sex when he looks like that.

  His head burrows between my thighs and I’m lost.

  I’m overwhelmed by scents and sounds. Banana awash with yoghurt, awash with me, awash with mango and paw paw. Traces of berries. The fresh morning air. The sounds of the sea whispering against the sand in the distance. The mashing of banana as Cooper feeds. The lap of his tongue as he scoops up yoghurt. The smack of his lips. The murmuring moans of a woman well-pleasured. A woman so far gone in ecstasy she’s outside herself. The press of fingers into flesh. The slurp of mango juice. The suck of paw paw slipping through lips. The lap of juice and
yoghurt. The scream of a woman’s orgasm as male lips clamp her clit. The squelch of fingers slipping into a soaking cunt begging for filling. A rhythmic slurp of fingers fucking a wet cunt. And the low murmuring, swearing, panting, screaming of a woman’s peak as she’s pleasured beyond her wildest dreams.

  Silence.

  Stillness.

  A suck as fingers slip out. The creak of the bed as a body moves. The soft growl as a man prowls. Pop. A raspberry is tugged free. The bright burst of raspberry juice. The tingling of a nipple until wet fingertips capture it. The slow suckle of a hot mouth on the other raspberry. The low murmur of a woman who can’t possibly want more. The pop of a tight mouth pulled from a tighter nipple. A sigh, ragged and exhausted. The chuckle of a proud man.

  I’ve experienced it all but I can’t tell you any more. My mind is a wasteland of mush. Sensory overload has killed brain cells. My body is alive and screaming with pleasure but each body part is indistinguishable from another. I can feel my heart pounding, harder than after a race, yet I’ve barely moved. Muscles have wasted to jelly beneath my skin. I have no control over jelly.

  I concentrate on the air moving into my lungs. My nostrils flare, cool air rushes in. I feel it slide down my throat and fill my lungs. I relax and the air parts my lips and escapes, warmer. I lie focussed on breathing until it again becomes natural.

  ‘You’re going to kill me, Cooper.’ My words are tiny and quiet. Not like my voice at all. I could almost believe I’m defeated with a voice that soft.

  ‘You set the challenge.’

  I open my eyes to meet his amused gaze. ‘I didn’t know you were so competitive then.’

  He grins. ‘Bad luck.’

  My mouth twists into a smart smile. ‘Actually, I don’t think it’s anywhere close to bad.’

  He laughs and wraps me in a hug, his lips meeting mine. The delicious remnants of breakfast are sweet on his mouth, before I recognise the taste of myself mixed in the blend. I stall as my flavour hits me. But his kiss demands my sole attention. He’s devoured me as if I’m the sweetest fruit of all, and this kiss is no different.