by Melinda Minx
I squeeze her hips and keep her still. The feel of my fingers digging into her thick ass is fucking wonderful. I’ve known how good her body feels since those first slow dances at Homecoming, but now I can grope-squeeze every inch of her with no need for pretense.
I eat her out, really worshipping her clit. I’ve never gone down on a girl like this—I’ve never really cared how it makes her feel. It’s always been about getting her wet enough so it feels good when I slide my dick in. And hell, that’s still part of it with Sophie, but the most important thing is to make her feel fucking amazing. I want her skin to become electrified, and I want so much adrenaline to pump through her that she thinks she’s going to burst.
Sophie grabs her breasts, and I see her squeeze her own nipples between her knuckles as her fingertips hold the mass of her breasts up. She starts to really fight me as I lick her all over, and then I hear the telltale scream of orgasm rising up in her throat.
“Mason! God! Oh! Fuc—ahhh!”
I let her hips go, and her hips and ass shoot up toward the ceiling. I keep my lips and tongue pressed against her. I want to feel her come against my mouth.
She comes hard, and I slide a finger in as I continue to go down on her. I feel her tight pussy squeeze my finger, but she’s so gushing wet that it goes right in. Her body reacts to my finger by clenching and squeezing it. Convulsing. I feel intense wetness, and her clit is nearly pulsating against my tongue.
She pounds the bed with the palms of her hands as the climax hits her hard and fast, and when she’s finally done, her body collapses. All the tension in her body—from the effort of fighting me for so long—finally melts completely away. She’s limp on the bed and panting. Her glorious breasts heave, and I gaze at them with my head resting against her stomach. My finger is still inside her, and I leave it there until the last of the convulsions dissipates.
When I slide out of her, she twitches, and gasps. “Holy shit, Mason.”
“Better than doing it by yourself, huh?”
She laughs. “Better than I could have imagined.”
I’m still fully clothed with ten hard inches of cock threatening to burst through my pants.
“You want me to blow you now?” she asks. “If you’re not too big, I bet I can get most of it in my mouth.”
I laugh, my head shaking against her stomach. “I like the casual suggestion, ‘you want me to blow you now;’ you’re too much.”
“Fine!” she says, hitting me, “I won’t then!”
I stand up and take off my shirt. She looks up at me with hunger.
“Mmm, Mason,” she says. “You’re going to make a good soldier.”
It hits me right in the heart. I’d nearly forgotten. She must see my reaction, because she leans forward on the bed, then jumps up to my side. She grabs hold of me, and I feel her big breasts press against my hard, six-pack abs. Her hands are warm against my strong back.
“Sorry,” she says. “I’m...just trying to be supportive. It kind of kills me that you are going.”
“Eric needs me,” I say.
It somehow sounds almost selfish. Eric needs me, and what about Sophie? We haven’t known each other long, but that makes how I feel about her all the more incredible. I don’t want to let her go, but I’m going to go to fucking war.
I run my hand through her hair.
“Is it wrong,” I say, “that I’m doing this mostly for my brother? I mean, fuck those asshole terrorists for what they did to us, but I was never much for the big picture. What is one more guy like me in uniform with one more fucking gun really going to do to stop more attacks like that? Maybe it makes a difference, but all I can really see is that me as one guy is enough to keep Eric from getting himself killed.”
“That’s enough,” Sophie says, holding me tighter. “If everyone who was going to war thought that about one other soldier, then everyone would be safe and protected, right?”
“I guess,” I say. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, Sophie. All I know is I gotta figure my shit out fast, and do the best I can. I want to come home to you in one piece.”
“You promise?” she asks in a faint whisper.
I can tell by her tone that she knows I can’t really promise something like that. What if I’m riding in a transport and it gets blown the fuck up? Nothing I can do to stop that. But it’s the thought that counts. The intention. The will.
“Yeah,” I say. “I fucking promise. I’ll come back to you in one piece.”
“Okay,” she says. “Good, now let me see your dick.”
I laugh so hard that she pulls away from me. Her face is burning red. “What?!”
“It’s just the way you say that…”
“I want to see it!” she says. “I can kind of see it through your jeans.”
She looks closer. “Holy shit, Mason, is that real?”
I throw my belt off and undo the button. I pull down my jeans and boxers, and my cock springs to attention.
“It’s...not real. No way,” Sophie says, her eyes bulging wide. “I don’t think I can fit that in my mouth. Or even in my…”
“Get on your back,” I say.
“But I want to try to blow—”
“Now,” I order.
She falls back onto the bed, then scoots up to rest her head on her pillow. She spreads her legs wide and runs a finger along her pussy.
“It might hurt the first time,” I say.
“It will be worth it,” she says. “I’m not afraid. Can I touch it first?”
I straddle her again, and slap my cock down between her breasts. She reaches a hand out and touches it, then strokes it gently.
“You can be rough with it,” I say. “Just not with my balls. Never rough up a man’s balls.”
She giggles. “Roger!”
She squeezes the base of my cock, and I gasp. It feels so fucking good for her tiny hand to finally be wrapped around my thick rod. I normally go so fast with a girl that it just happens and means fucking nothing, but this—with Sophie—is something else.
“It’s so fucking big,” she says. She squeezes hard, and my eyes roll back into my head. “I can’t even touch my finger to my thumb! Holy crap!”
“It’ll feel good inside,” I say. “That’s why I had to get you so wet.”
“That’s the only reason?” she asks.
“Nah,” I say. “It was also fun as hell to make you cum.”
She licks her lips and runs her hand up and down my length. Then I see her look at her tits, and her eyes widen. She grabs her breasts and squeezes them against my cock. The big, soft flesh surrounds my cock, swallowing it up.
“Fuck!” I mutter. “Sophie...I gotta do it now, I want the first time to really count…”
“So if I keep moving my boobs up and down your dick,” she says, “you’ll cum? Just from that?”
“Your boobs,” I say, smirking, “are pretty fucking amazing...so yeah.”
She presses harder, sliding up and down my length faster. “So this feels good?”
“Yes,” I say, pulling away. “Too good.”
She grins. “Okay, we’ll do that later then. And I’ll blow you, too.”
God, if only we had more time. I have to make every moment with her count. And I have to keep my promise to her, to come back to her. She’s worth waiting for. She’s worth coming home for.
I slap my cock down against her stomach and run two fingers gently along her wetness. “You ready?”
She nods. “I’ve been ready, Mason.”
I slide my cock along her soaked lips, and then I position the head to slide in her hole. I look her in the eyes, and she nods.
I slide myself inside her, just an inch.
“Ahhh!” She throws her head back, and she reaches a hand up to squeeze her breast.
Her tight pussy is squeezing the head of my cock, and it’s so fucking warm and wet that I want nothing more than to slide all the way into her.
“More,” she says, her voice pleading.
Fuck yes.
I press further in, and her inner walls grip me hard like a vice. I grunt as I slide in further. I look down as I see myself disappearing within her, then I look up at her face and see her wince.
I stop.
She grabs my arm and squeezes. “It feels so good, Mason.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“It hurts, yeah, but it hurts good, you know?”
“Sex for guys doesn’t hurt at all, it all feels good,” I say. “Coming out of my mouth, it doesn’t quite sound fair.”
“No,” she says. “It’s good. This pain is fucking good, I want more.”
I grab her hips and wrap my fingers around her. Her full ass presses my fingers against the bed, and I plunge deeper inside her.
“Fuck, Sophie, you’re soaking wet.”
She answers me with just a yelp. It’s easily the sexiest fucking yelp that’s ever graced my ears, and it sets off something inside of me. It makes me unable to control myself, and my animal instinct takes full control of me as adrenaline floods through my veins.
I dig my fingers into the flesh of her ass, and then I pound my cock all the way into her. My balls slap hard against her, and she cries out.
“That hurt good?” I ask.
Her moans tell me it does.
I slide back out, my cock soaked in her thick juices, and then I plow back into her. The force shakes her body, and I watch her big breasts jiggle as my balls hit her once again.
“God,” she shouts. “It’s so deep!”
She wraps her legs around me tight, digging her heels into my lower back.
I start to slide in and out of her with wild abandon and full force. Her bed is old and creaky, and thank God her Dad isn’t home. He likes me, but if he heard what I was doing to his daughter right now, he’d probably change his mind.
The bed is loud, pounding against the wall, but not as loud as the sound of our skin smacking against each other, or of Sophie’s cries.
“Mason! Oh, God! Mason!”
I love hearing her scream my name like that, so I fuck her even harder, never slowing down. I want to make her scream so loud and cum so hard that she can’t even get real words out, and I want to feel that intense orgasm grip my cock for all its worth.
I fall against her, her legs still wrapped around me. Our sweaty bodies slide against each other, and I bite at her earlobe as I thrust my hips against her like a jackhammer.
I slide in and out of her for a long time. I get tempted to change positions, to fuck her hard from behind while slapping her ass, but to do that I’d have to stop fucking her. Even the few seconds it would take would be too much, I have to slide in and out of her, just like I am, until I blow my thick load deep inside her. My body has already decided, and my brain is just along for the ride.
With my face up against her, I can hear all of her moans right in my ear. I want to hear and feel every hot breath as she rises further and further up toward inevitable climax.
Her breasts press against my chest, and each time I pound in and out, I feel them jiggling against me. I think of all the things I want to do to them, and wonder if I’ll have time before I’m sent to basic training. I need to do everything I can to her, make her feel as good as she deserves to feel, before I’m shipped off and before it’s too late. She has to remember what I can do for her, because it’s all she’ll have until I can come back to her—like I promised.
I feel her insides clench around my cock as I sink deep into her, and her moans get louder and louder in my ear.
“Come all over my cock,” I whisper to her. “I want to feel how wet you can get.”
She squeals as I thrust harder into her. I try to get just that much deeper, to really send her over the edge. I press my lips against the soft flesh of her neck and grunt into her as I thrust her to orgasm.
She cries out, and her body convulses as if a volcano had erupted within her. I feel her legs trembling against my lower back, and her fingernails clawing into my broad shoulders. I work my hips as if stopping meant death—I don’t dare deny her a single ounce of pleasure as she cums.
And as if a volcano really did go off inside her, I feel a thick flow of wetness flood across my dick, and then she convulses hard from within. It feels as if her pussy is milking my cock, and my balls tense up in response.
“Fuck!” I shout. “I’m gonna’ cum!”
“It’s safe,” she says. “Inside!”
I’m not wearing a fucking condom, but she must know what she’s talking about. She must be on the pill. I was planning to pull out and come all over her stomach and tits, but cumming this deep inside her is more than I could ever have hoped for.
“Fuck!” I shout. “I’m cumming in you!”
The pressure builds up from my balls, and my muscles all clench up as Sophie’s wetness drenches my cock sliding in and out of her. The pressure becomes too much, until finally my balls release it. The thickest load I’ve ever shot blasts through my full length. All the pressure dissipates, leaving only a warm rush and complete relaxation. I come again and again, neither time as powerful as the first release, but the warmth has already swallowed me up, and Sophie’s laughter in my ear is just icing on the cake.
I stop thrusting as my cock twitches, nearly empty now. The last few drops of cum have filled Sophie up, and I fall down on top of her with my cock still buried deep inside her.
My entire body—every part except my cock, which is still hard for now—goes limp. I anchor myself above her with my elbows so I don’t crush her, but I’m otherwise completely relaxed.
Sophie pants and trembles, her pussy still squeezing me tight, and I almost don’t want to pull out. If we just lay like this, I’ll probably get hard again.
But I want to hold her in my arms, so I pull out and wrap my arms around her. She buries her face into my chest and squeezes me tight.
That memory, of the warm afterglow holding us tight to each other, and of everything feeling right in the word—that’s the memory I end up holding onto as I get onto the plane taking me to Afghanistan. As I leave everything right in my world behind me—wondering just what the fuck I’m doing.
11
Sophie
Today
The days have all been blending together. Wake up, work, lounge around the house at night. Aside from trying to make Dad take care of himself, I haven’t had much to actually worry about.
But Mason Steel changes all of that.
Is he going to barge into the Crab Shack every fucking day now? Do I have to try to avoid him, or should I just treat him like any other asshole customer?
And why, why, does my body have to disagree so fucking hard with my brain? After seeing Mason, my brain wants to get the hell out of Tuckett Bay, but my body is begging me to stay. His fucking muscles are bigger than ever, covered in tattoos, but those blue eyes are the same as ever.
It’s so hard to push him away when my body is begging me to give in to him. To let him take me and have his way with me. To—
I shake my head and shove the dirty images out of it. I need to keep up my resolve. I’ve made it more or less fine these last fifteen years without Mason Steel. I don’t need him breaking my heart again.
I hear Dad stomping down the stairs, so I grab his mug and pour him a cup of coffee.
“You came back late last night,” I say.
“Remember when I used to tell you that?” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Sounds like you had a lot to drink.”
“Remember when I also used to tell you that?” he says, laughing.
I smile. I have to pick my battles with him. He doesn’t go out to drink too often, and I’m not going to try to get him to stop.
“I barely drank anything,” he says, shaking his head as he grabs his mug. “My body just can’t handle it like it used to.”
Good, he realizes it on his own.
“Anything new with you?” he asks casually.
Dad is one of the w
orst people I’ve ever met at hiding his emotions. He’s trying to act like he’s making small talk with an innocent question, but I know exactly what he’s asking me. He knows Mason is back. I don’t want to show him I know that, because it would confirm to him that I still have some kind of feelings for Mason.
“No,” I say. “Not really.”
He nods and sips his coffee. He opens up his newspaper and pretends to read. He keeps looking up at me, waiting for me to mention Mason.
He’s not a patient man, and he finally says, way too casually, “So, I ran into Mason Steel at The Midnight.”
“Yeah,” I say, hoping that I didn’t inherit my dad’s inability to hide my emotions. “I saw him at the restaurant.”
“Ah,” Dad says. “You talk to him?”
“I guess so,” I say. “Just said hi to each other...I guess it had been a while since we’d seen each other. I don’t think I ever ran into him since he left.”
Fifteen years. That’s how long it has been. And I’m certain I’ve never run into him.
“Mmm,” Dad says. “So I guess you, uh, don’t have any kind of feelings for him—”
“God, no,” I say. “Do you think I still like the Backstreet Boys, too? High school was a long time ago.”
“So you’re good,” he says. “Seeing him isn’t hard on you?”
“No,” I say. “Not at all. He’s just one more old face at the Crab Shack. No problem for me at all.”
“Alright,” Dad says. “’Cause I invited him to have dinner here tonight. Just thought since his parents are gone and all, that—”
“You what?” I ask, my face draining of color.
Dad looks up at me with his mouth wide open. “Oh, sweetie, I thought you said—”
“No,” I say, forcing myself to regain control. “It’s fine, I just...I’m not used to having people over. Do you want me to cook? And I haven’t even checked to see if I’m working a shift—”
“Oh,” Dad says. “Should I cancel, or reschedule? If you’re not comfortable around Mason, if you still have feelings for—”