by Cara Bristol
“I’ve thought about nothing else but you since yesterday,” Lon said. “How you tasted. How wet you got.” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her ass, then slipped between her cheeks to trail his fingers over her quivering asshole to her pussy.
“I remember how you squeezed my fingers as you came and how much I wanted your cunt to convulse around my cock.” Lon’s words and touch stoked her desire, doused her nervousness. She’d lusted after this man, dreamed about him, built not a fantasy but an entire make-believe world in which he ruled. He’d kept her company during lonely nights, warmed her bed, made her feel desirable again, given her hope that somebody would find her attractive. Little had she known it would actually be him. Her heart thudded in time with her pulsing clit, the tempo orchestrated by his stroking fingers.
Lon spread her open and guided the thick knob of hard-on to her spasming, dripping pussy. He pressed forward and met with resistance by her unused muscles. More pressure, more resistance, then his cockhead forged inside. Dana whimpered at the pleasurable burn, the tension.
“Okay?” He paused, his hands on her hips preventing her from thrusting the way she wanted. He was allowing her to adjust.
“More. Don’t stop,” she said.
“Don’t stop what?” Claire asked.
The party. Dana mentally filled in the blank with a song title from the Black Eyed Peas. Don’t stop the party. Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t. Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.
“Party? What are you talking about?” her boss said.
Good God, she said that aloud?
Lon rocked forward and back, burrowing deeper, deeper—Christ, how long was he?—stretching and expanding her tissues until he touched her cervix.
“Oh fuck, you’re snug. So fucking fantastic,” Lon muttered. His cock throbbed, and her muscles answered with a hungry pulse. Dana buried her mouth against her upper arm to stifle her groan of satisfaction as Lon withdrew, then slowly plunged as if knowing her overstretched muscles needed more time to accommodate his girth. They might, but she didn’t.
She’d waited too long for Lon already. Dana needed him to drive into her hard and fast—she needed to hang up the fucking phone. “I can’t do this,” she cried into the crook of her arm.
Lon stopped moving all together. “Am I hurting you?”
“Not. You.” Dana panted. “Can’t. Talk. To my. Boss.” She could hear Claire jabbering away, her voice rising to a panicked pitch. Dana shared her panic.
Lon slipped his hand between her legs and flicked her engorged clit. Fire streaked straight into her womb. Ripples shuddered through her pussy. She was going to come, screaming into the phone at her boss.
“Her name is Claire?” Lon resumed thrusting.
She so did not want to talk about her boss. “Yes,” she forced out through gritted teeth.
Lon pried the phone out of her grasp. “Claire?” he growled. “Dana will call you back.” He pressed End and tossed the handset. It skidded across the counter and crashed to the floor with a satisfying thud.
“Oh God, fuck me. Fuck me hard,” Dana begged.
Lon grabbed her hand and shoved it between her legs. He guided her fingers over the nerve center as if teaching her how to masturbate. Their hands moved together to rub her clit, bumped against his thrusting cock. “Touch yourself like you did in the pool.” His guttural command spiked her desire.
“Hang on, honey.” He fastened his cream-slickened hands on her hips to anchor her as he pounded his cock into her wet depths. His thighs smacked the back of her legs with each forward thrust, the slapping mingling with his ragged breathing and her panting moans. His balls swung against her hand as her fingers flew frantically over her clit.
A tornado whirled within. Light, sound, and touch fused and split, condensed and expanded until her entire body throbbed with the most savage intensity centering in her clit and pussy. Coiled heat. Tighter. Tighter. She wound into a spring. And snapped.
Dana wailed as an orgasm exploded from her core, radiating out to all parts.
Her cunt convulsed around Lon’s pulsing cock as he came, swearing with each ramming thrust.
* * * *
Lon carried the tray of microwaved Chinese food to Dana’s patio, prurient satisfaction welling in his chest. The thought of his kitchen caper was getting him hard and ready for a second round. He hadn’t expected Dana to talk to her boss while he fucked her, but holy crap. She was one hot, wild lady. The noises she made—tried not to make—the way she’d creamed over his hand and dick, had proven how turned on she was. He loved how she’d abandoned herself to the experience.
By its nature, sex wasn’t a chaste act, so why pretend it was? He wanted to get messy, even dirty, with Dana.
Lon set the tray on the table, and Dana came up beside him with two wineglasses. The moon still appeared nearly full, and under its light, her eyes sparkled and her pearly skin glowed, her cheeks flushed with a hint of color.
“I have no idea what I’m going to tell my boss on Monday,” she said in her woody-inspiring phone-sex-operator voice.
“Sorry,” he lied, not the least bit repentant. He recalled his childhood phone pranks—Dana certainly got his refrigerator running! He pulled her to him for a kiss. She yielded against him as he took his fill of her mouth and slipped his hand under her dress to caress her naked ass cheek. She’d left her underwear on the floor where it belonged.
But he needed to feed her so she could maintain her energy, because he was nowhere done with her yet. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand.
“You went all out.” Lon eyed the table she’d set with a cheery cloth, a vase of pink flowers clipped from the nearby poolside pots, and candles. With a striker, she lit them, and he detected the scent of citronella. Lon lifted his shoulders in a self-deprecating shrug. “All I brought was dinner in a box.”
“Several boxes, and it’s what’s in them that counts.”
“I’m sorry I got tied up.”
Dana shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I imagine this is only the start of the demands of being a doctor.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. In his second year of residency, his schedule was still arduous and often erratic. It didn’t leave him much time to date, but for Dana, he’d make the effort.
They settled into their seats, dished up the Chinese food, poured the wine. Lon realized he was hungrier than he’d thought; he’d worked up an appetite. There was none of the first-date awkwardness that sometimes occurred, but of course, they’d already shared intimacies usually reserved for relationships of greater duration.
With a start, Lon realized he was thinking of his time with Dana as a relationship. He eyed his brothers’ tree house. He’d been a little annoyed that his folks had asked him to retrieve the camera. Work had been a bitch that day, and he’d wanted to crash at his apartment. Call it an old wives’ tale, but it was true. The full moon did make people act crazy—the emergency room had been full of injured people, many of whom had gotten that way by doing stupid things.
And then Dana had come out of her house and changed his attitude in an instant.
“This is real, isn’t it?” she mused aloud.
He offered his forearm. “You want to pinch me?”
She smiled, peered at him from under her lashes, and his heart thumped. “I’d better not,” she said. “I might not stop with a pinch. Did you get the camera back to your parents okay?”
Funny how they seemed to be on the same wavelength, her thoughts dovetailing with his. Lon nodded. “The hospital is midway between Lake Eversome and home, so Dad came by to pick it up.”
“My ex and I used to take our daughter camping at Eversome, but I haven’t been to the lake in years.” About seventy miles away, the lake and camping resort was a popular summer destination among locals. It didn’t offer the grandeur of a national park like Yellowstone or Yosemite but provided a fun, quick family getaway. “We used to rent one of the rustic cabins,” she said.
“I haven’t
been there in a few years myself, but I think it’s still the same,” he said.
“I’m glad. I’d hate to think it had gotten commercialized.”
Dana’s chest rose and fell, her nipples making delectable tents in her dress. Christ, she had beautiful tits. And cunt. Ass. Hell, the whole package. His cock strained against his zipper.
“What would your parents think about this?” She waved her hands in an arc before resting her wrists on the table. “Us.”
Ah. The age thing. Lon met her gaze. Despite her nonchalant tone, he could tell she was concerned. “This is between you and me. I respect my parents, but I don’t seek their approval. I think they might question our involvement, but they trust me to make my own decisions.” He paused. “How would your family take it?”
Dana gave a mirthless laugh. “After the stink I made, my ex would have a field day. I don’t know how much you picked up from the conversation yesterday, but Roger is having an affair with a girl only two years older than our daughter Katie.”
He had caught the gist of it. What her ex thought he would find in another woman eluded him. The man was an idiot. To Lon’s good fortune.
“Of everyone, I think my daughter would be the most accepting. She didn’t approve of her father’s infidelity, but the age difference wasn’t an issue. ‘Age is just a number, Mother.’” Dana gave a dismissive sniff.
“Your daughter is right. Age is just a number.”
“You’re closer to Katie’s age than you are to mine. She’s twenty.”
“I’m not dating your daughter. I’m dating you.” He covered her hand and linked his fingers with hers, noting how perfectly their hands fit together. Almost as good as his cock and her pussy.
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”
He leered. “Unless you’d rather make a few phone calls.”
Dana laughed. “I’m game. But we’ll call your boss.”
Lon glanced at the swimming pool. The water shimmered like midnight satin, beckoned like a lover. Dana followed his gaze. “Feel like a swim?”
“It’s a start.”
“Did you bring a suit?” she arched her eyebrows teasingly.
“My birthday suit,” he answered with a straight face.
“Then you’ve got it covered.” She shifted her gaze to two colorful rolled beach towels resting on a chair.
“Oh. I get a towel this time?”
“Come on.” Dana motioned with her head toward the pool. “Ready?”
Dana slipped out of her dress and padded to the pool, her firm, round ass sashaying for deliberate effect, he was sure. She paused and turned slightly to give him a teasing glimpse of her delicate face, succulent nipples on full tits, and a spring of pubic hair before descending the steps.
Lon tore off his clothes and hurtled himself into the pool with a tremendous splash, hell-bent on capturing the woman who was stealing his soul—one breath, one kiss, one smile at a time.
Dana squealed in mock alarm and fled for deeper water. He let her swim to the deep end before he caught her and dragged her into his arms. He sampled her lips, tormenting himself with just a taste until he could resist no longer and delved inside in a full-on assault. Mouths fused, limbs entangled, they sank beneath the surface. Bubbles tickled and kissed him, but all sensation paled compared to Dana’s body clinging to his, her lips fused to his mouth.
When the water conveyed them to the surface, Dana wound her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, smashed her breasts against his chest, and positioned her pussy within striking distance of his erection. He treaded water for both of them as Dana kissed him fiercely. Her tongue swept his mouth in hot, avid strokes. She nipped at his lower lip.
His impatient, greedy cock nudged at her entrance, eager to sink home. He couldn’t believe how tight she was—it had taken effort to work himself inside her. He shook with the need to have her hot pussy sheath his cock again, this time without a latex barrier. Just once.
Who was he kidding? Once would never be enough.
Dana tugged at the wet strands of his hair. She nipped his ear, her warm breath lighting a fire that traveled from his lobe down to his toes. When she closed her hand around his cock, Lon jerked as heat spiked into the white-hot zone. She stroked him with such perfect friction, he arched and shuddered.
He seized her breast in one hand and used the other to curl his fingers into her pussy, her wet warmth knotting up his insides. With both hands occupied, he was unable to tread water, and they sank beneath the surface again.
They rose, sputtering. “Let’s go to the shallow end. We’re going to drown,” Lon said.
Dana giggled. Her teasing laugh tantalized him like a siren’s song.
“Hang on,” Lon said. With Dana clinging to him, he crawled to the shallow end. As soon as he could stand, he lifted her legs around his waist again. Her plump, engorged cunt teased the head of his cock. So tempting—it would take only a push. Waves licked at his shoulders. He hugged Dana to his chest and waded toward the steps.
The plop-plop-plopping of the pool’s current echoed Dana’s heartbeat. As Lon carried her to the shallows, the smooth, crowned head of his cock teased the entrance to her pussy. Her stomach fluttered with eager expectation. She glanced up at the moon, imagined it winking conspiratorially at her. You go, girl. She’d shut off the gatekeepers, the thou-shalts and shalt-nots, and found herself whirling in bliss. Age was just a number, and right now, the only number that mattered was two. The two of them.
Dana lowered her feet until she stood on the bottom step. Lust smoldered in Lon’s eyes, but his grin held affection, contentment. Her heart contracted. When was the last time a man had gazed at her as if she was the most desirable person in the world? When had she felt the exact same way?
Lon brushed her temple with a gentle finger. “You’re fucking hot.”
Dana turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm before swaying forward. He met her halfway to capture her mouth in hungry demand, sending shivers of lust up her spine. When his mouth broke off from hers and sought the sensitive skin of her neck, her head lolled back of its own accord. His roughened jaw rasped against her skin as his soft lips kissed a wet trail.
But not as wet as she was. Her pussy throbbed with need, each pulse releasing a surge of moisture.
Dana splayed her hands over his chest to stroke his smooth skin, knead the muscles underneath.
Lon meandered from her neck to her breast and drew on a nipple, rousing a pang of pleasure clear into her womb. His lips and tongue played with a peak as he traced a path of fire with his fingertips from the other nipple to her abdomen. He rimmed her belly button before making his way to her wet curls. She widened her stance on the step, and he zeroed in on her clit. Dana moaned in pleasure as his fingers circled the nub.
Water lapped at his ball sac, but his cock jutted free. She gripped it, stroking his thick shaft until it leaped like a length of animated, heated steel against her palm. Her cunt contracted in eagerness. She swirled her thumb in the fluid that beaded at the slit and marveled at the contrast between the softness of his velvety head and the hardness of his shaft. She’d forgotten how incredibly rigid a younger man’s erection was, and Lon was hung better than most.
“You have a pretty cock,” she said.
He snorted. “My cock isn’t pretty.” He nipped the tip of her breast, and a tiny sting of pleasure-pain zipped through her. “Your tits are.” He probed the entrance to her cunt, then inserted a finger and thrust slowly in and out. “Your pussy is.” He followed with a second. He gazed into her eyes. “You are.”
Under his stroking hands, Dana arched with satisfaction, breathing through her mouth. She clamped her muscles around his fingers. “Well, I like it.”
He smiled at that. “Good. I plan for you and my cock to get to be best friends.”
Lon played her body as if it were a fine instrument and he were a virtuoso musician, creating quivering sensations with the stroke of his fingers, the pull of hi
s mouth. Her desire ran hot, purifying in its intensity. It had been a long while since passion had fueled her libido instead of frustration.
Her pussy creamed over Lon’s skillful fingers. He teased her clit with an expert thumb, and the bud pulsed, sending a kick of bliss through her taut muscles. He sucked on her nipples, moving from breast to breast, never abandoning one for very long. His stubbled jaw grazed her sensitive skin, stirring shivery tingles every place it touched, while the suction of his mouth delivered sharp spikes of pleasure.
She milked his cock with one hand and wrapped her other hand around his neck to drag his face to hers. Lon treated her to long soul-melting kisses that had her moaning against his lips. His breathing grew ragged, as did hers, and their labored breaths sang in cadence.
Her pussy gave a pouting pulse, but the rest of her body gloated when he removed his hand from between her legs to roam over her thighs, her ass, her back, and her breasts. He kissed her neck, setting the skin afire there, and she felt rather than heard his sigh.
“Shit. My pants are on the chair.”
“You’re not going anywhere, I hope.” She rolled her head to the side to allow access to her neck.
Lon nipped her skin. “Rubbers.”
“What are they doing all the way over there?” She didn’t need them for birth control, but protection would be prudent.
Lon covered her mouth with another fierce, wet kiss, then broke off and released her. “Hold that thought.”
He bounded out of the pool. Dana chuckled; she’d hold that thought and others too. It wasn’t fair to other guys that so much gorgeousness was locked up in one man. Lon snagged his pants and yanked a strip of condoms from a pocket, pivoted, and grinned as if he’d achieved a victory. Dana’s laugh dissolved into a shudder of lust as she focused on the frontal view of taut, lean muscle. Lon’s long, thick erection bobbed as he dashed back to the pool. No, it wasn’t fair to other men.