by Layla Wolfe
Tanner touched my belly-button piercing, an attractive little dendritic crystal scepter. “Branding livestock can cause tumors to grow around the permanent markings. Humans who modify their bodies with branding might have higher risk of cancer at the injury sites.”
I sighed. More lectures. Slithering out of our knot-like grip, I said to his face, “Why do you always lecture me? What’s done is done. You can choose to not deface your body. I choose to. It’s part of the career I’ve chosen. Who would come to see an un-inked spokesmodel?”
Tanner grinned, unfazed. “I would, if it was you.”
That reminded me to relight my blunt in rebelli0n. How I wished I could blow the smoke in his face! But we were here for a pleasant swim, so I continued down the path.
Tanner called after me, “I lecture you because I care for you, Unity. It’s like you’ve become one of my protected animals.”
Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
“Well, don’t bother!” I yelled back.
“Does that mean you reject my caring?”
A couple of people came the opposite direction, but so far no one going our direction. Maybe because heavier black-bottomed storm clouds were flying our way. Heavy-bottomed, that was me. I let my cutoff jeans ride low on my hips, so he could plainly see the thong between my butt cheeks.
Well, I wasn’t that cold-hearted to reject a jacked, ripped man’s caring. “I don’t reject it,” I called over my shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I want it, either.” Had to stay cold in case I got hurt. Remember Evan? I reminded myself of him whenever I started feeling warm toward a man.
We walked the rest of the way like that, Tanner allowing me to stay a few steps ahead of him. Eventually I felt ridiculous and tried to slow down so we’d walk abreast. But he must’ve slowed down, too, because we never came side by side. I finally stopped altogether to point.
“This is where people jump into the swimming hole.”
“There’s no one here,” Tanner said brightly. “I’d jump, but what about our things?”
I stripped the pack from his brawny shoulders. “No excuses.”
He grinned knowingly at me, a dimple forming in one of his cheeks. Adorable and heart-melting, just like mine, but mine were created by diamond studs. “You little queen of heaven,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if it was disgust or admiration that colored his words.
As if accepting the challenge, he peeled off his shirt and lingered just long enough to blow my mind. He took off his phone holster with agonizing slowness, staring directly at me. Buff, shiny pectorals looked meaty enough to bite. Flat, brick-shaded nipples were juicy enough to nibble. A swath of downy hair peppered the carved chest and ridged abs. Without the phone, wallet, keys, and additional other crap that weigh down men’s pants, the shadow of his iliac crest was unmistakable. This man was toned right down to his adductors, and it’d be my lucky day to see him buck naked. Oh, wait. He’s taking off his pants.
Tanner kicked off his shoes and yanked down his jeans one leg at a time. He wore those boxer briefs that were created just to display a man’s package prettily. I think he bent over to retrieve his pants and fold them just to give me an eyeful of his jiggling ass, muscular globes moving seductively under the tight fabric. When he turned back to toss the folded pants onto a flat stone, his cock, long, thick, and half-erect, was constrained only by the binding of the briefs. Putting his hands on his hips, he smiled sunnily.
“Well. I sure hope that hole is deep enough.”
I opened my mouth to respond to the ambiguous statement, but he was off and running.
Moving perfectly like an Olympic diver, he almost seemed to be making a cannonball when he launched with precision off the edge. But just as he hung in the air, neither going up nor down, just hovering like an insanely macho ball of man, he straightened all his limbs, hands at sides. He shot down like a torpedo.
Oh who am I kidding? He was attractive as fuck.
Grabbing my backpack, I raced down the steps built into the side of the sandstone hill just in time to see him hit the water. Because he was narrow as a pipe, he plunged into the water at such a speed that he was gone from sight.
“Fuck!” I cried, and ran out onto a red peninsula. The water was frothy and white from the churning of several waterfalls, so I expected him to pop up where he’d gone down. I held my breath, ruing the day when I’d taunted him to jump. I myself had never done it, being afraid of how deep the pool was, but I’d seen people plummet in there.
“Tanner!” I cried out.
Was I afraid? Had he knocked his head on a fucking underwater rock and was now lolling about, unconscious, in the ice-blue depths of this pool? Oh, fuck!
Though it didn’t make a difference because it was so flimsy, I stripped my tank top from my torso, stepped out of my sandals, and tossed my cutoffs so they stood upright, holding my shape. All this, and no peep from Tanner! I waded in facing the spot where he’d gone under. “Tanner!” What a fucking way to go! He makes it through an abusive childhood, prison, the air force, and now years of dealing with poor homeless dogs—only to die when his head hits a rock! Nearly naked too.
“Tanner!” I bellowed at the water’s surface.
Ducking down, I went completely underwater and opened my eyes. Things were less busy down here, and it was easier to see. There was no Tanner, just some surprisingly big fish that came toward me with their sucking lips.
I quickly surfaced. “Tanner!” I was almost mad now, treading water.
“Over here, my queen!”
Oh! If one could spin about angrily in the water, that’s sure as hell what I did, creating a pissed-off whirlpool. Tanner sat casually on some warm sandstone, knees up, hands dangling over the knees. Big balls filling his sack. The melted ice water hadn’t even given him any major shrinkage. This man was appallingly fit and sensual and had obviously outsmarted me.
“Ooh!” I hit the water with my palm, but the spray didn’t assuage me in the slightest. I made a big show of breast-stroking back to shore, grabbing the backpack, and stalking the long way around over a sandstone bridge to reach his little enclave.
Before I sat, I took a towel from the backpack. I unfolded it just enough to seat one person and plunked down on it. I wasn’t an animal, getting my butt full of rusty sand like he was. To rebel, I withdrew the wine bottle from the pack, wedged it between my thighs, and opened it.
“That’s just typical,” I said, hot. “You scare me sometimes, Tanner. You knew I’d be frightened for you, but you waited ‘til the last second to call out.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, my queen,” he drawled, painting sheepishly with a stick in the sand. “I just wanted to show you I wasn’t afraid of a little tiny cliff.”
“It’s not just the cliff where you scare me! We get the picture, Tanner.” I gulped wine thirstily, as though I’d just come out of the Gobi Desert. “You’re a hardass man. You’re an air jockey, a handsome devil, an indestructible force of nature.”
“And you, my queen, are even more amazing than my wildest wet dreams. I would’ve swum out to save you, but you didn’t look like you needed saving.”
“I was trying to save you! I thought you were a fucking goner, Tanner! And what’s with all this ‘queen’ stuff?”
“Queen of Heaven.” A bit more sheepishly, he said, “It’s a position in the Kama Sutra. Seems to fit you. And now.” He stood, brushing red sand off his ass. He was a glorious sight to behold, all muscle and brawn and manliness bursting through his prime of life. Not to mention, the outline of his firm cockhead against the tight fabric of the briefs. I was practically at eye level with this stupendous prick, and I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind. Was I finally beginning to separate the activities that had occurred with Gary from sex with men who weren’t Gary?
“Where you going?” I asked the giant penis.
Tanner hitched a thumb. “The slot canyon under the waterfall, remember? Looks like one right there.” Now he hitched a chin at the other side of the water.
“And looks like people are coming.”
I had to chug my wine, slam the cork back into the bottle, and gather everything to follow the muscular, striding giant.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tanner
My cock was stiff as hell when Unity tore off her tank top and shorts, but I still didn’t know if she was interested in me.
But I sure as fuck was going to get her interested in my talent.
Her amazing, natural, gravity-free boobs bounced in the spare bathing suit top, just a halter of string with two triangles juicily displaying the un-inked side boob. I delved first into the darkness of the slot canyon, so she wouldn’t be intimidated by me. This way, she was following, not being led. At the other end a waterfall gushed. Its beginning and ending were invisible—just a sheet of water instead of a rock wall.
I talked to reassure her nothing nefarious was up. “Animals maintain the same circadian sleep cycle no matter how much light or darkness they are under. They still act like they’re under the same twenty-four-hour cycle. But people varied widely. Some people seemed to operate on a thirteen-hour cycle. Others seemed to take up to sixty-five hours to complete their cycle. In 1938, the first sleep researcher decided to test it by spending over a month inside a completely dark cave.”
We’d reached the waterfall, standing so close one side of our body was sprayed. My shapely hip-hop queen dumped her backpack and stood facing me, arms folded, creating a shelf for her stupendous tits. She frowned with concern. “Oo. That sounds horrible. A dark cave scares me.”
“I know, but this one isn’t dark.” I sliced my palm through the spray, selfishly directing some of it toward her clavicle, just because I admired the way it sluiced down her cleavage. Her G-string was so tiny, the waxed pubis jutted out defiantly. I wanted nothing more than to drop to my knees biting and licking that smooth vulva. I envisioned pinching her juicy lips together, massaging the clitoris between them. Only when it protruded like a tongue from between the lips would I dive in, gluing my mouth to her sex and lapping.
I bet no one had ever done that to her before. All the men who wrestled with her during and after photo shoots—I bet no one had ever licked the core of her before.
Of course my dick was utterly hard. The wet fabric clung to it like a spider web, the only thing preventing it from springing at her like a saber. But she wasn’t running. “He and a student timed their activities to a twenty-eight-hour cycle, working for ten, resting for ten, and sleeping for nine. They found that after a week, they naturally gravitated back to the twenty-four-hour pattern of animals.”
Unity grinned widely. “I like how you’re always teaching me how we’re just like animals.”
Taking her by the shoulders, I turned her to face away from me. I dared placing a wet hand over a swirling artwork of poppies, roses, and snakes on her shoulder blade. My other hand snaked around her abdomen so I could thumb her steamy under-cleavage, occasionally getting gutsy enough to brush my thumbs against the driven snow of her side boob. I’d fantasized about bringing her around to voluntarily, eagerly touching me, but now I had a different idea. Slow masturbation of this amazing woman was the new agenda. I slid a hand down to lightly pinch the fatty pubis. Like on the cliff, she began a slight rotation of her voluptuous ass against my erection. A few drops of jizz spurted from my slit. Now it was like being masturbated by her. She’d turned the tables brilliantly. Whenever she rolled the big globes of that ass against my hard-on, she kneaded my bursting head against her butt. She rolled my cockhead into the cleavage of her ass, and my balls filled, stiffening. It would’ve been so easy to grab her hips and slap her up against the side of the cave, impaling her.
But tenderness was the watchword. Before I jizzed inside my skivvies, I had to change the subject back to her. No one topped me from the bottom!
“What do you fantasize most about?” I murmured in her ear. I grasped her fleshy lips between my greedy fingers. She abruptly amped down her butt rolls. I could feel her mind shutting as she lolled her head back against my shoulder, against my chest. Her painted skin scraped my nipple, sending such manic shots of craving through my innards, my cock twitched between her butt cheeks.
“Is this some other animal thing?” She had to speak louder to be heard over the rushing water. She snaked her hands behind my neck, lacing her fingers so she could arch her back against me. Any other man would’ve interpreted this as an invitation to fuck. I couldn’t be so crass.
“No. This is all about you, my queen of heaven. This is all about getting you pumped up.”
“Is this the Queen of Heaven position?”
“Yes,” I lied. Rolling her bulging clit between the petals of her sex, I stimulated her without scaring her. When she gasped loudly and jumped, I slipped my free hand over a side boob to capture a nipple between my fingers. I pinched the little gem, knowing it also sent shock waves directly to her inner pussy. “But in the true Queen of Heaven, I’d impale you. I don’t want to do that now.”
“You don’t?” she pouted. “You don’t want me?”
I growled in her ear. “Oh, I fucking want you, all right. It’s not that.”
“Because you have no protection? I don’t need that. I can’t get pregnant.”
I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking why. I just flicked a fingernail against the stiff bullet of her nipple, pleased when she gasped again. Man, it was something to hold a natural, full breast like that in my hand. Perky and achingly round, I just wanted to nurse at it. But I had a job to pursue. “This is all about pleasing you, Unity.” I swiped a finger over the emerging bulge of her clit. She cried out this time, like a beautiful heron balancing on just one leg.
“I fantasize about you,” she gasped.
That surprised me. Why would she lie like that? She didn’t need to please me. I responded by setting up a swiping motion of my fingertip across her slimy clit. She was dripping with juice, and I’d done that. God, I wanted to fuck her. I was primed to explode. I satisfied myself for now by putting my foot on a low rock, so I could bury my wang deeper in her butt cleavage. I was buried so deep and she arched her back so finely, I could’ve reached a little behind her clit to find my own dripping glans. “No. I mean who do you think about when you masturbate? A cowboy? Rock star?” Women had told me those things before.
But of course, Unity was different. “An explorer.”
I was trained to keep up a steady pace against the clit. “An explorer? As in, Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”
“Sort of. Only more Richard Burton, finding the source of the Nile, writing about swords, sneaking into Mecca, speaking twenty languages.”
What. The. Fuck? “Okay. So a guy who’s very daring and well-educated.”
“Yes.” Another butt roll. I’d finish before her if she kept this up. I slipped a palm down her ass cheek. A surge of jizz shot from my balls when I grabbed a handful of it. But I couldn’t slap her, much as I fucking desired to. “You’ve never seen that portrait of Sir Richard Burton on my wall in my apartment? Oh Jesus, Tanner, don’t fucking stop. Don’t ever fucking stop. You’re a fucking master.”
That was my cue to stop. Orgasm control was skirting around the very edges of climax, much as she was unintentionally doing to me now. I stopped flicking her little swollen bud and started a slow massage. Long and deep, my three middle fingers swiping slowly almost to her slippery hole. “You’re a gorgeous queen of heaven, Unity.”
“Take your cock out, Tanner,” she begged. “I want to stroke it, like you’re stroking me.”
My erection stretched the fabric of my skivvies so violently, half my cock was bare to her ass crack anyway. She clamped her buxom thighs around the length of it, and by her arching she controlled the in and out, the frigging of my dick. I’d dripped pre-come so heavily, it was almost as mind-blowing as actually fucking her.
I had to take control back. I slapped her ass.
“Control yourself, woman,” I growled. Her ear lobe was stretched, filled with a silver ring,
and I slithered my tongue through it.
I was relieved that she curled the corners of her mouth into a sexy smile. “I can’t,” she confessed. “But don’t stop!”
I started with the rhythmic flicking again, using the side of my middle finger.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Now she just sighed, or gasped, or cried out. One of her little hands remained grasping the back of my neck for support, but the other slipped around my backside and, like I had, took a big lusty hand full of my half-bare ass. More pre-come spurted from my slit. Or maybe this was jizz. It was like I was coming a little bit at a time.
I noticed another couple had entered the slot canyon at the far end. It turned me on to no end knowing we were being watched. In fact, it seemed we were inspiring the couple, because the guy, a hipster with a man bun, backed his girl up against the wall and was dry-humping her. He crushed her to the wall, but he was looking directly at us. Even in the darkened cave, the whites of his eyes gleamed like a vampire’s. He was voracious, that was it. He was probably taking his fill of Unity. It made me jealous and proud at the same time.
I kept up the beat against Unity’s clit, trying to sort through my emotions. I wanted to punch that guy on the one hand, and I wanted to invite him to suck her boob on the other. Her pussy juice flowed over my wrist and her panting speeded up. I knew I had to put a pin in this, so with regret I slid my hand beneath her bra once more and pinched her nipple.
That did it.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Her cries became louder and higher in octave until she was the one singing opera.
I spoke to her, snarling in her ear. “Come for me, my sweet Queen of Heaven. I want to feel you come all over my hand, all over my arm. I want to taste your delicious juice.”
Her boob was full-on in the cool cave air now, the little triangle of fabric having been shoved aside. I wondered if the hipster could see the glorious white orb—in my hand. She was mine, all mine! And I was the one giving her the most mind-blowing—or perhaps the only—orgasm of her life.