by Selena Kitt
“Okay, enough, enough,” Doc protested, throwing Henry one last time. He was getting big, almost bigger than Janie, even though he was younger. He was going to be a big boy.
The kids begged for more but they finally gave up, swimming and splashing together for a while until they got bored and went back to building their sand village on the shore. Doc came over and joined me and the baby.
“Just think, another few years, and I’ll be throwing you, lil pumpkin.” He lifted Holly from my arms, laughing as she squealed and waved her arms while he sailed her through the water, making motor boat sounds. Watching them together made me smile.
Then the baby got fussy and no amount of playing would quiet her.
“She’s hungry,” I said, holding my arms out for her. “She wants lunch.”
“Me too,” Doc agreed enthusiastically. “Time for a sandwich.”
We all trooped back into the house. Doc made sandwiches and Mrs. B made lemonade and I made the baby a bottle, and we all sat around the kitchen table eating. Mrs. B insisted on feeding the baby, so she ate one handed and had to stop to burp Holly. Janie and Henry burst out laughing when an air bubble escaped the baby’s mouth so loudly it sounded like a full grown man belching.
“Mom, my head hurts,” Janie complained, rubbing her eyes.
“Too much sun,” her mother said, nodding. “Why don’t you and Henry go upstairs and take a rest?”
“I’m not tired,” Henry said, his mouth full of sandwich.
“Well at least stay out of the sun for a while,” Mrs. B said, looking at Janie’s flushed cheeks. “Play X-Box or something.”
“Okay!” Henry brightened. I smirked. Any day his parents suggested staying inside and playing video games was clearly a good day, as far as he was concerned.
“Well someone needs a nap.” Mrs. B yawned and kissed the top of the baby’s head. Holly’s head nodded, her eyelids heavy.
“You or her?” Doc teased.
“Both.” Mrs. B laughed. “I’m gonna put her down and do just that.”
“I was going to give Gretchen her early Christmas present,” Doc said, leaning back in his chair and looking at his wife as she rose with the baby. “You okay with that?”
“Sure.” Mrs. B smiled over at me.
“I’ve got something for you, Gretchen.” Doc stood, clearing plates as Henry and Janie raced each other to the X-Box in the living room.
“Oh yeah?”
I knew, whatever it was, it wasn’t what I really wanted. Like Ronnie had assumed, I wasn’t ever going to get that. The Baumgartners didn’t think I was girlfriend material. It seemed like I was going to be just the nanny, just the roommate, just the doormat, for the rest of my life.
“Go on outside, I’ll meet you there.”
“Outside?” I raised my eyebrows. “Should I change?”
I was still in my wet bikini.
“No.” His gaze dropped down to my cleavage, then lower, to my belly, hovering on the small, white triangle of fabric between my legs. “Go on.”
I went past Henry and Janie, who were stretched out on their stomachs on the carpet playing Super Mario, going through the sliding door to wait on the patio. I sat in one of the chairs, watching the light play on the water as the waves rolled in. It was a beautiful day, the sky a bright, azure blue, hardly a cloud in it. I understood why the Baumgartners loved coming here so much. The place was paradise.
Doc came out the back door. He was still wearing his swimming trunks, dark blue, almost black when wet. They had a tantalizing white stripe at the waist that drew my eye, under which a dark line of hair ran down from his navel and disappeared. I glanced up, past those still sharply defined abs of his, noticing he had his camera around his neck and a camera bag slung over his shoulder.
I raised my eyebrows, curious, but he just held out his hand and told me to come with him. Of course, I followed. We walked through the sand, not talking, all the way down to the water’s edge, where the sand was wet, packed tight, easier to navigate. He took me down the beach, further than I’d been before, taking me past a field of tall grass. There was a little cul-de-sac here and that’s where we stopped. I could see the house still, but it was distant, small.
“So, this isn’t exactly your Christmas present.” He lifted his camera, pointing it at me. I cocked my head, half-smiling, and the shutter clicked. “I’m sure we’ll get you something new. But I wanted to pass this on to you because I just got myself a new one.”
“This…” I stared, my brow knitting, as the shutter clicked again. “You don’t mean… your camera?”
“Yep.” He smiled warmly, snapping again, catching my expression of surprise. “It’s all yours. I thought I’d take some time to show you how to use it. And take some pictures of you, if you still wanted to model for me.”
“Oh wow.” I blinked at the camera in his hands, too shocked to say much more. He was really giving it to me? We’d talked more about photography since that Halloween night when we discovered we had that hobby in common. I had showed him my old analog camera that still used such an archaic technology as film. “Really? You mean it?”
“Of course I mean it.” He laughed, taking the camera strap from around his neck and putting it around mine. It hung, a heavy piece of machinery, between my breasts. “Wanna learn?”
“Hell yes!” I exclaimed, laughing and suddenly throwing my arms around his neck. “Oh, Doc, thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He held me close and I heard him take a long, deep breath, like he was breathing me in.
I couldn’t learn fast enough. He showed me all the settings, how to adjust the white balance, how to use the bounce flash, how to change the lenses. He had several macro lenses and two telephoto ones in the camera bag. I experimented with the macro lenses, fascinated. I had one for my analog camera and I used it all the time, but with the digital technology, I could see immediately how things turned out. It was amazing.
“I just took a picture of a blade of grass!” I exclaimed, showing Doc as we stretched out on our bellies in the sand. “Look at that! Look how close!”
“Isn’t it awesome?” He grinned at me. “You wouldn’t believe how close I can get with those lenses. I’ve taken some amazing pictures.”
“Would you show me?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “I have some on my laptop back at the house. But… well, some of them aren’t exactly G-Rated.”
“R-Rated?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. He shook his head slowly, eyes darkening. “NC-17?” He shook his head again. “Ohhh. X-Rated. Up close and personal?”
“Very.” He nodded slowly, the look in his eyes making my pussy and ass clench in my bikini bottoms. “I like taking pictures of the female anatomy.”
“Particularly female?” I swallowed, knowing just what he was talking about. And he knew I knew.
“That does happen to be my particular interest.” His gaze dipped to my cleavage. “So, about that modeling you said you would do for me…”
“You want to take pictures of me naked?” I licked my lips, the thought of it so titillating it made me lose my vision at the edges, so all I saw was him.
“That’s up to you.” He held his hand out for the camera. “We can start with you in your suit.”
“Okay.” I handed over the camera, rolling to my side. I was covered in sand. “How do you want me?”
His gaze moved over my body and I swear I could almost feel it, as if his eyes were his hands roaming over my breasts, down my sandy stomach, to the white triangle between my legs.
“Don’t ask me that unless you actually want me to tell you.” His voice was hoarse as he watched me sit, spreading my thighs and planting my feet apart in the sand
“How do you want me?” I asked, leaning my elbows on my knees, knowing the view I was giving him was incredibly tantalizing. At least, I hoped so. He was already snapping pictures.
“God, stop tempting me.” He groaned from behind the camera. “Just si
t there.”
I grinned at his words. Then I did a few swimsuit model poses that made him smile and me giggle. He continued to snap away.
“You’re really beautiful, Gretchen.” He dropped the camera for a moment to look at me leaning back on my elbows, knees up, feet in the sand.
“Does Mrs. B know you’re doing this?” I asked, glancing toward the house. We were in that little cul-de-sac of grass, hidden down here, away from any roaming eyes.
“Teaching you how to use the camera?” He smirked.
“Taking pictures of me.” I drew a circle in the sand with my toe, biting my lip.
“Yes.” He picked the camera back up as I sat.
“Nude ones?” I undid the strap on my bikini, letting my top fall away, my breasts free. I heard him gasp.
“Yes,” he murmured, back behind the camera again, snapping pictures.
“She doesn’t mind?” I reached behind, hearing the shutter as I took off my top altogether. I arched my back a little, pointing my nipples skyward. Doc was taking so many pictures it made me dizzy.
“As long as I don’t touch you…” he said from behind the camera.
“Oh?” I stood in the sand, topless, looking across the beach, wondering if anyone could see us. The timeshare was private and I couldn’t see any other people. The house was far in the distance. “Is that the rule? You can look but you can’t touch.”
I turned around and slid my white bikini bottoms down, showing him my ass. I heard the click of the shutter, the sharp intake of his breath. Then I turned around and he groaned like he was in pain. The camera was forgotten for a moment. He was eye level with my pussy and he looked at me with his naked eye, no camera lens in the way. Then he started snapping away again, watching me sink down into the sand and open my legs for him.
He changed lenses part way through and I knew he was taking up close photos. I held still and let him circle me, hearing his breath quicken.
“Fuck, Gretchen.” He swallowed, and I looked at him crouched between my legs, taking pictures of my pussy. “You have the sweetest pussy. Look at that little bit of blonde hair on top. God… open it for me. Spread it.”
I did, using my fingers to part my lips. He took more pictures, moaning the whole time like he was being tortured.
“So you can’t touch me,” I mused, watching him maneuver between my thighs. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t. Does it?”
He swallowed. “No.”
I circled my clit with my finger, shivering. I was so fucking hot. The heat of the sun was making me sweat but my pussy was on fire. I had to come. And I wanted him to watch me. Doc had forgotten the camera. He knelt between my legs, focused on my fingers moving back and forth, around and around. My nipples were so hard and I wished he could suck them. I could see his cock tenting his suit and it made my mouth water.
“You can’t touch me?” I asked the question, pleading. He shook his head, his expression pained. “Well… can you touch yourself?”
He sighed, shaking his head.
“Technically speaking… probably shouldn’t.” He glanced at the house, then back at me, moaning when my fingers slipped into my pussy. “But fuck it.”
He yanked his boxers down and grabbed his cock in his fist. The sight of it made me gasp, the way he handled himself, so rough, pumping it fast as he watched me touch myself.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his breath coming faster.
“Oh Doc, I want your cock,” I moaned, pushing my hips up, offering my pussy. “You can put it anywhere you want. Anywhere.”
He groaned, shaking his head. “Just keep doing that. Finger yourself. Jesus, girl. That’s so fucking hot.”
“Oh but I want you,” I pleaded. My clit throbbed, my pussy clenching, wanting to be filled.
“I want you too,” he panted, jerking his cock faster, balls swinging. God, I wanted to taste him, lick all that saltiness from his scrotum, let him fuck my throat. It was driving me crazy, having him so close, but not having him.
“Oh Doc, please, please, fuck me.” I begged him. “Just…put your cock in me when you come. Please. Just… oh… fuck… please!”
“Ahhhh God, Gretchen, I want you so fucking bad.” He gave a low, frustrated groan, looking at my pussy like a drowning man.
“Just rub it up and down my slit,” I whimpered. “Just once. Just… oh… please…”
He growled and thrust closer, but his cock didn’t touch my pussy. I rubbed my clit faster, a brutal assault, my thighs quivering with need. I felt my orgasm coming, something thick and coiled in my belly, waiting to spring. Doc stopped to lick his palm, making his cock wet, and I knew he was imagining what it would feel like to fuck my wet little pussy instead of his own fist.
“I’m gonna come,” I panted, meeting his eyes, a halo around his head from the sun. “Oh Doc, I’m going to come for you.”
“Yes!” he cried, pumping his cock so fast his hand was a blur. “Oh Gretchen, come for me, sweetheart. Make yourself come for me!”
“Only if you come first.” My fingers slowed, oh God, it was so hard to stop, so hard to hold it back. I clenched my ass as if I could keep my orgasm in. I was so very close. “Come with me, Doc. I want your cum. Give me that. Come all over my pussy!”
He gave a low, pained groan, thrusting once, twice, three times into his tightly closed fist, his cock erupting with hot, white jets of cum. The first stream overshot my pussy. It overshot my stomach and my tits. His cum sprayed my cheek, splashing my lips, and I gasped, reaching my tongue out and tasting him.
Doc moaned again, another flood of cum exploding from the head of his cock, this one not quite as strong. He left another ropey white stream over my belly, and the last, glorious burst was right against my pulsing little clit. Just the heat and pressure of it made me come—I didn’t even need my fingers, although I used them, rubbing his cum into my pussy, my hips lunging upward, my pussy squeezing down violently against nothing, again and again, aching with the empty throb.
He sat back on his heels, dazed, panting, as I cleaned myself off. I scooped up every bit of his cum, licking my fingers and hands clean while he watched, looking like a starving man chained just out of reach at a banquet.
When we were dressed again—which we did in silence—and sitting in the sand, facing the waves rolling in on the beach, I finally decided to just ask. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to know. Ronnie had planted a seed of doubt in my head that had been growing weed-like in my brain, as much as I tried to ignore it.
“Doc, I want you so much.” My voice was soft as I used a stick to trace patterns in the sand. “You and her too. Why can’t it be me?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, although I was sure he knew. He had to know.
“Why can’t I be like…” I swallowed. “Like Ronnie. Like Dani.”
He sighed but didn’t say anything. He just looked out at the water.
“It couldn’t be more perfect,” I insisted. “I mean, I live with you!”
“That’s part of the problem,” he said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“Gretchen, it’s not about you.” He looked over at me, shaking his head. “It’s really not. You’re young and beautiful and desirable. Very, very desirable. And we love you. We do. Very much. You’re like a part of the family—”
“But!” I interrupted, snapping at him, although I didn’t mean to. “I can hear the ‘but’ already. But what? But I’m not good enough to be your lover?”
“No.” He reached over to touch my shoulder. Just that made my knees turn to water. “That’s not it…”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
I walked on my wobbly knees down the beach. I didn’t go in the direction of the house. I went the other way instead, looking at the sun on the water, poking at the sand, picking up seashells, trying to lose myself in the journey, let it carry me away. By the time I got back to the house, dark skies had rolled in and it was beginning to rain.
The house was quiet. Janie and Henry were playing Go Fish, of all things, with an old deck of cards at the kitchen table. Mrs. B was napping on the sofa with the baby sleeping in the crook of her arm, the TV on but muted.
Upstairs, I stripped out of my suit in the bathroom to take a long, hot, stinging shower. Then I went across the hall to my room. I quickly towel dried my hair and put on a pair of pajama bottoms and a white tank top. It wasn’t even dinner time, but I didn’t feel like going back out again. Besides, the sound of thunder rolling outside told me it was still raining, so we’d likely be stuck inside for a while.
Then Doc called to me from the room next door—the room he shared with Mrs. B.
“Come here.” He crooked his finger at me from where he was sitting on the bed with his laptop when I peeked my head inside the door.
I went, like a petulant child.
“I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out, stroking my wet hair, looking at the droplets of water beading on my skin. “It’s complicated. I wish it wasn’t.”
I just nodded, not saying anything.
“I thought you’d like to see.” Doc patted the bed beside him.
I hesitated for a moment, climbing up and sitting next to him, leaning back on the propped up pillows. I gasped when I saw what filled the screen.
My own pussy. My clit, to be exact, the hood pulled back slightly, the pink skin around it wrinkled, convoluted. The picture was so clear and sharp it was stunning. You could see every little grain of sand sticking to my skin.
“Look.” Doc pointed, touching my clit—on the screen—and I felt it throb between my legs. Oh my God, I could have sworn he was stroking my clit, just like he was doing to the image in front of us. “So fucking lickable.”
That made me whimper and squeeze my thighs together. I leaned my head against his arm as he flipped through each image. We both looked at them, silent. I went from wearing my bikini to nude, the photos zooming in closer and closer. There was a shot of my nipple, pink and pursed, that Doc paused at. He made a low noise in his throat before moving on.