by Cara Addison
He looked down. “Beautiful view,” he whispered.
“It is,” she agreed, looking out at the handful of surfers riding the waves.
He kissed her neck and then her shoulders, one hand on her knee and the other exploring her bare stomach.
“You weren’t talking about the ocean, where you?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.
“Nope,” he confirmed, sliding his hand up her breasts and running his finger along the tiny triangle of fabric. He pressed her knees apart, leaning them against his. “Christ, Austin, that’s the tiniest bikini I’ve ever seen.” His hand descended, his finger tracing the very tiny triangle of fabric that was held together with a thin band. He slipped his finger under the triangle, pressing into her slit. Warm fluid began to pool as he swirled his finger. He slipped a second finger in, gently probing and stretching her. Her legs pressed urgently against his in response to his touch. He pulled his fingers out and lifted them to her. “Taste it.”
She paused, and then leaned forward, tentatively licking his finger. She took another soft lick. “You like it?” he asked, slipping his fingers back down under her suit.
“I prefer the taste of you,” she answered honestly, gasping as he slid his sopping wet fingers up and around her clit. She moaned.
He noticed a sunbather turn to look at her. She moaned again as he flicked his finger across her swollen clit. She began to writhe between his legs. “Sit still.” He pressed one hand down against her hip, pinning her to the towel. “Try to be quiet.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, her body tensing as his fingers swirled with increased intensity. She grabbed his thigh, digging in her fingernails as she clamped her teeth tight to prevent any sound from escaping. A long soft whimper still managed to leak out as ripples of pleasure washed over her. He knew she was coming, and pressed his fingers deep inside her, wanting to feel her come against his fingers. “Don’t stop,” she begged.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“I really need to you fuck me,” she begged. “Right now.”
He looked around. “We’re in the middle of a beach.”
She leaned back and pressed hard against his chest as another orgasm flooded over her. She could feel his hard cock through his shorts, pressing against her back.
“Follow me.” He pulled his fingers from her and stood up, pulling her from the towel. She scooped up her clothes and tossed them into her beach bag, grabbing the towel from the sand. She took his hand and followed him to a side entrance of the nearby hotel. They pushed through the doors. He looked up and down the opulent hall, spying the men’s washroom.
In one fluid movement, he walked her through the door, across the floor, and pressed her up against the wall of the men’s room. She unsnapped her bikini bottom and tossed it onto her beach bag as he stepped out of his shorts. He ripped open the foil square from his pocket and quickly rolled the latex into place.
An elderly gentleman walked into the restroom as Brett thrust his hard cock into her, lifting her 120-pound frame off the floor. The man quickly darted into a stall, not stopping to look.
“Your pussy is so wet,” he murmured.
The gentleman in the stall coughed to cover the noise. Brett smiled coyly, realizing there was someone in the washroom.
“Say it again,” she whispered.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he said a little louder than necessary, the gentleman clearing his throat and flushing, clearly in a hurry to escape the men’s room. The stall door opened, and he rushed out of the room, not bothering to wash his hands.
She smiled.
“You’re so naughty,” he whispered.
“I know. Now shut up and fuck me.”
He was thrusting deep and hard and she was on the edge of an orgasm when a man her age entered the washroom. He stopped in his tracks, watching them before slowly entering a stall. She moaned as an orgasm ripped through her body moments before Brett thrust deep, emptying into her.
Brett was pulling up his shorts when the man exited the stall. He watched her in the mirror, taking a long time to wash and dry his hands.
“You’re one lucky fucking bastard,” he said as he turned toward the door. Brett turned his head slightly before leaning in to kiss her. He slipped his hand back between her legs, covering her.
“I know.”
She heard the door close as Brett dropped his hand. She bent down to pick up her clothes. She pulled on her shorts and slipped the T-shirt back on.
He leaned in to kiss her. “You’re good?” he inquired.
“Very,” she sighed.
“You think you can keep your pants on for a few hours?” he joked.
“Hey.” She laughed. “I didn’t start this. You did,” she accused him.
He walked her to the door, peeking out to see if anyone was coming. They strolled out of the hotel, and back onto the street.
“I’m starving,” she exclaimed, taking in the aroma from a nearby grill. “I’ve hardly eaten today.”
“It’s happy hour. Let’s find a place to eat.”
They crossed back over the main street, headed toward a Mexican restaurant. They settled onto the patio, ordering a pair of Margaritas and appetizers.
“You’re beautiful, smart, and terribly sexy. Why aren’t you married?” he asked as their drinks arrived.
“I am,” she joked.
The color drained from his face. She leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. “I’m kidding.”
He exhaled heavily. “Fuck, Austin.” He took a long drink. “I have a strict policy against that.”
“Really? For someone with a strict policy, you sure didn’t do much due diligence.”
“Touché.” He smiled. “So, why aren’t you married?”
She took a long drink before responding. “I was.” She set down her glass, tracing the circle of condensation at the base of the glass with her finger before she continued. “He died seven months after we were married.” She waved her hand in the air, pushing the memory away. “It was a work-related accident.” She looked up at him. “I guess I haven’t met someone that I’ve cared enough about to put myself through that experience again.”
“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.
“What about you?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I work more than eighty hours a week. It isn’t very family friendly until you get promoted to the top of the heap and the schedule gets a little better.”
“Ever gotten close?”
“I was with someone for five years. She got tired of my career and must have gotten bored. Or lonely. I’m not sure which. She got married two months after she moved out.”
“Two months?”
“Yep. They had been seeing each other for a year before she finally left me.”
“I’m guessing that has something to do with your policy?”
He pointed at her. “Bingo.”
“Well.” She smiled. “Isn’t it comforting to know that we’ve both been screwed over?”
Chapter 4
They slept late again on Wednesday morning. It was almost noon when she stepped out of the shower, watching him shave in the mirror.
“What did you have planned for your vacation?” she asked, combing her wet hair. “I don’t want to keep you from your original plans.”
He laughed, leaning over to kiss her. “I planned on catching up on sleep, sitting by the pool, and drinking a lot. Somehow I think I’m going to need a vacation from my vacation when I get back to New York.” He went back to scraping the razor against his skin. “What about you?”
“I planned on doing some shopping. My day job pays my bills. The revenue from the book allows me to splurge.”
“How much have you made this week?”
“Just over ten grand.”
He rinsed his razor in the sink, staring at her in the mirror. “Seriously?” He splashed water on his face, pulling a towel from the rack. “You want to
go shopping today?”
“Yes, but I doubt you do.”
He paused. “Actually, I’ve never been shopping. It might be fun.”
She looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t have time to shop.” He moved to the bedroom to dress. “I have a personal shopper.” He pulled on a pair of Burberry boxer briefs. “She keeps track of what I have and what I want. Every few weeks, she delivers a stack of clothes to my office.”
“Well”—she pointed at the designer underwear he was wearing—“clearly she has great taste.”
“She does a very good business. I think she shops for every guy on my floor.”
“Do you think you’re ready to join the masses and see how the rest of us trudge through life?”
“I think I’m ready to find something sexy for you to wear,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her. He walked her backward toward the vanity, lifting her onto the cold marble, shoving an assortment of bottles and brushes out of the way. He stood between her knees, kissing her.
“Mmmm, you smell good,” she whispered, inhaling the heady scent he had just splashed on.
He kissed her neck and then her chest. He kissed each nipple, pulling them into his mouth one at a time.
“Sweet mother,” she exclaimed as a tingle rushed through her body. “You’re good.”
He descended, kneeling in front of her. She watched him for a moment. “Fucking brilliant,” she murmured, watching his tongue flutter across her pussy.
He paused, leaning back to look at her swollen, wet clit.
“What are you doing?” she whimpered, frustrated that his tongue was motionless.
“Observing,” he whispered, intently surveying her swollen wetness.
Desperately wanting him to resume, she grabbed his phone and snapped a close up photo of the sight. “There,” she gasped, setting the phone down on the vanity, “you can observe any time you like. Now, stop teasing me.”
He leaned in and kissed her clit, reaching for his phone. He flicked his tongue across her as he stared at the photo. “Holy fuck,” he whispered.
“Just keep it off the Internet,” she murmured, her eyelids heavy from the gradual surge of throbbing decadence.
* * * *
An hour later, they walked into Neiman Marcus. “So how does this work?” he asked, scanning the racks.
A middle-aged sales associate approached them, instantly recognizing the designer clothes he was wearing. “How can I help you today?”
Austin answered her. “I’m looking for a business suit.”
“And some dresses,” he added. “I haven’t seen you in a dress yet.”
“I’m on vacation,” she responded, justifying her casual wardrobe as they following the clerk.
The clerk eyed her. “Size four?” Austin nodded. The clerk pulled a brown Gucci suit off the rack, and then a black Giorgio Armani pantsuit. She pulled a half dozen other items off the racks. “Shall I start a change room?”
“Please.” Austin turned to Brett, finding him sifting through a rack of dresses. He pulled an Alexander McQueen, a Michael Kors, and a dress by Stella McCartney before joining her in the change area. He handed the dresses to the clerk.
“You have excellent taste,” she gushed.
Austin had already picked out two suits that she liked.
“I want to see the dresses,” he called out to her.
“Come see for yourself,” she invited, opening the door a crack.
He stepped into the spacious room. She was wearing the navy-and-white racerback dress by Alexander McQueen. “That is beautiful,” he whispered, running his hand over her hip and down the seam to the hem that reached her mid-thigh.
She turned, inspecting the dress from a number of angles. “I’ll need shoes,” she added, standing on her tiptoes, inspecting the back of the dress in the mirror.
He stuck his head out of the change room door and looked at the clerk. “We’re going to need a few minutes.”
She blushed. “I–I–I–I’ll be back in five minutes,” she stammered.
“Make it ten.”
She turned and quickly walked away.
He closed the door and turned back to Austin, running his hands over her body. He quickly found the hidden zipper and wasted no time removing the dress, laying it across a chair. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he kicked off his shoes. The foil packet crackled in his fingers. His shorts fell to the floor a moment later.
He kissed her, running his hands over her body. She turned to face the wall, accepting his kisses over her shoulder. With latex in place, he plunged into her, causing her to moan loudly. The sound echoed through the halls. He leaned forward. “You’re a wonderfully noisy little thing, aren’t you?”
She turned her head. “You try sticking a delightfully huge fucking cock inside you and see if you can stay quiet.” She hissed, gasping for air.
A smile crossed his face as he pressed into her. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Ten minutes later, when the clerk returned, Austin had selected three dresses and two suits. She was smoothing her hair in the mirror. “I’d like to look at some shoes.”
When they stepped into the shoe display, her shoulders visibly relaxed. She inhaled the rich smell of leather, running her finger over the toe of a Louboutin pump. She turned and kissed him and whispered in his ear. “Next to being in bed with you, this is just about the sexiest damn place on earth.”
He kissed her. “Get shopping.”
She pointed to a brown suede designer pump and a black strappy sandal, requesting the clerk to retrieve a pair of each for her to try on. By the time the clerk had returned with the first two samples, she had picked out three more pairs that had caught her eye.
She tried on each pair, walking the floor, inspecting them from above, behind, and the side. “Which are your favorites?” she asked, looking over at him. He was sitting in a wingback chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He was biting his fist as he studied her feet.
He pointed to the leopard print pumps. “Those go with the brown suit.” He scanned the other shoes. “Those have the best toe cleavage.” He looked up at her. “They’re all stunning.”
She turned to the clerk, slipping out of the black Manolo Blahnik pumps. “I’ll take them.”
“Which ones?” she inquired, stooping to pick up the assortment of boxes from the floor.
“All of them.”
“Of course.” The clerk stacked the boxes. “Is there anything else I can show you today?”
“I think I’ve done enough damage,” Austin replied, adding up the cost of her selections in her mind. They followed the clerk to the register.
“And for you, sir?”
“I think his personal shopper might get her knickers in a knot if he started shopping for himself,” Austin added with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
“You have a personal shopper?” the clerk inquired. He nodded.
“I suspect she might.”
“Could you have these sent to our hotel?” he inquired when the packages were wrapped and ready.
“Certainly.”
Austin provided her the details, a little anxious about letting her new treasures out of her sight.
“Let’s go down to Balboa Park,” he suggested.
“Let me call you a taxi,” the clerk offered, picking up the phone. “It’s just a short ride.”
Ten minutes later, they were strolling through the vast park. They walked past museums, stopping at the lily pond to watch the koi swim lazily through the shallow water. “Want to walk through the zoo?” he asked.
“Sure, why not?”
Once inside the entrance, they turned left, following a crowd toward the skyrail. They rode the small gondola up to toward the polar bear enclosure, kissing to the sounds of exotic birds as they passed over the aviary. They watched the polar bears and pandas before making their way along the parkway. As they passed the zebras, he pointed to the male who was
trying to mount his pen mate. She kept walking away, kicking him with her rear hoof. “Poor guy,” she said.
“Clearly, she isn’t Canadian.”
Austin doubled over, laughing the entire way down the steep hill toward the Lost Forest. They talked and laughed as they passed hippos, tigers, tapirs, and gorillas. They stopped to watch the orangutans, who were playing and interacting with visitors. A large male walked up to the glass, looking directly at each of them. He sat down, staring at Brett’s shorts. Austin followed the primate’s gaze, her shoulders beginning to shake as she stifled a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Either he thinks you’re hiding a banana in your pants, or he’s just plain jealous of you.”
“Hardly.” He laughed as he playfully wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her away from glass, leaving the orangutan banging against the glass as they walked away.
They walked for another hour before her stomach growled.
“Let’s go find a restaurant,” he suggested. He hailed a cab as they exited the zoo, directing the driver to a main intersection in the Gaslamp District.
They ate a leisurely meal, drinking two bottles of wine as they ate. Two hours later, they were walking through the streets, stopping at a number of shops on their way back to the hotel.
As they entered the lobby, a hotel clerk caught her attention. He swiped his access card, entering a secure room and returning with her purchases. Brett helped her carry the bags to the suite.
When she had unwrapped her clothes and shoes, she joined him on the bed. He was flipping through channels looking for a movie to watch. During a commercial break, he showered. She curled up under the covers. He returned a few minutes later, his hair wet. He slid his naked body into bed, sitting up against the headboard next to her.
She leaned into his arms. She watched the movie for a few minutes, before realizing that she had recently seen the film with a friend. She slipped under the covers, laying her head on a pillow beside him.
“You want to go to sleep?” he asked, turning down the volume.
“No. Just getting comfortable. Leave it on.”
She watched the screen for a moment before turning her attention to his groin. She pulled back the sheets and rolled onto her stomach. She ran her finger down his soft member.