by Alison Tyler
School would change me. I knew that. If Mark could make high school disappear, then college could erase him.
The radio played on and on for the girls of summer.
But I was lost in a future fall.
Falling
SOPHIA VALENTI
I’ve never minded the hot summer sun. The warmer, the better as far as I’m concerned. In fact, I’ve always found the antiseptic coolness of my office more oppressive than anything else, with its shockingly white walls, bright florescent lights, and air-conditioning so cold it could be a meat locker instead of a brokerage house. Each morning, I’d hear my coworkers utter appreciative murmurs as they entered, happily trading the stifling subway air for that of our refrigerated high-rise with its gray-shaded windows. Meanwhile, I’d sit and shiver in my crisp linen suit, feeling as if I were in suspended animation. I was cool and silent, waiting on ice until I got his message: a short text, consisting of a motel name and a room number. The sight of it warmed me from the inside out—melting my resistance and bringing me back to life.
Every August like clockwork, Clarke and I would meet. And for a few hours, we’d forget our responsibilities, forget our promises, forget everything that made us who we are. Our truth became a tangle of limbs and sweat, sex and heat, whispered sighs that would fade into the steamy night.
Maybe he’s the reason I’m so fond of the season.
After I received his message, the rest of my day disappeared in a fog of erotic fantasies. The work on my desk was ignored, while I stared at my computer screen and pretended to be absorbed in a half-dozen spreadsheets. Meanwhile, all I was thinking about was spreading my legs for him. I could feel an aching arousal growing inside me, my sex becoming hot and slick at of the mere memory of him. I tried not to think about how his hands felt as they slid down my back, how his lips felt kissing my neck, and how his tongue felt lapping at my clit. The pleasure had been so intense that was nearly an impossible task. But on the cusp of another encounter, I could feel the lust within me bubbling up and threatening to explode.
Clarke and I had been at this for years: a long-distance flirtation, friendship, and summertime hookups—with me making excuses as to why we couldn’t have more. I had my occasional moments of doubt, but they got pushed to the background as I focused on my career and my life in a city that I’d yet to feel was home. Lately, he’d been dropping hints about wanting a more serious relationship, and wanting to move closer to spend more time with me, but I was hesitant to let down my guard and conveniently didn’t encourage him or ask him to elaborate. I often kept him at arm’s length, unless it came to sex—then I was all in.
At five o’clock, I gathered my things and nodded goodnight to my assistant, my aloof smile hiding the heat that had been building inside me all afternoon. I took measured steps down the marble hallway, mentally counting the clicks of my high heels against the floor tiles to pace myself when all I wanted to do was race outside and find my way into his arms.
Once outdoors, the sun’s rays warmed my face, helping to chase away the air-conditioned chill. I hailed a yellow cab and took it to a cheap motel, our destination of choice. As the years passed and we both became more successful, we acknowledged that we could afford better accommodations. But old habits die hard. Somehow a tryst at a luxury hotel couldn’t fire me up the way one at a hot-sheets motel could. When it comes to sex, I’d rather be tawdry than tidy any day.
As I stepped into the dimly lit foyer, I tried to leave behind all of my feelings. I wanted to tamp down my emotions and feed the hunger inside me. If nothing else, Clarke and I were good at that; we were able to satisfy each other like no one else ever could. For a few hours, I could pretend that the world consisted only of hot and dirty sex—with no messy feelings or attachments.
I made my way to room 312, politely ignoring anyone I crossed paths with in the hallway, honoring the unspoken code of casual sinners. I found the door unlocked and let myself in, not knocking or announcing my arrival.
Stripped to the waist, Clarke was reclining on the bed, his back propped up by a stack of thin pillows. He wore his late-summer tan well and his light brown hair was streaked with sun-kissed highlights, making him look like a sexy surfer boy. The air was as thick and humid as it had been on the street, and his chest was already glistening with a sheen of sweat. The sight of him made my heart flutter, and I kept my eyes locked on his nearly nude figure as I toed off my high heels and slid off my jacket. As I stripped, the corner of his mouth quirked up, a small smile laced with wickedness. I left a trail of damp linen and lace in my wake as I made my way to the bed.
Once I was completely nude, I climbed onto the mattress and straddled his thighs. Clarke kept his hands at his sides as he eyed me up and down, almost as if he were reacquainting himself with my body. I could tell from the look on his face that he liked what he saw, but I needed more than an admiring glance. Growing impatient, I reached for his belt, but he stopped me by grabbing my wrists.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, bringing the fingers of one hand to my chin and raising my face to meet his.
He seemed too serious about the wrong things. I could see it in his ice-blue eyes. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but whatever it was, I didn’t want to hear it. Not now. All I wanted was to feel his shaft, thick and hard, filling me up and giving me what I craved.
“Fuck now—talk later,” I insisted, diving down and silencing him with a kiss. Clarke’s groan turned into a growl as his resistance faded, and he embraced me tightly, crushing my breasts against him as his tongue teasingly flicked between my lips. It was like we’d picked up where we’d left off last summer, and I slid my body against his, the coarse hair on his chest teasing my hardening nipples. Sheer lust overwhelmed my senses, and every feeling that I’d tried to repress rushed over me. His touch awakened the ghost of every other encounter we’d ever had, and my flesh tingled with memories.
When we broke our lip-lock, I sat back and caught my breath. Clarke’s eyes now shone with a feral desire, and he pulled the clip from my hair, freeing my chestnut-colored curls. I arched my back and shook my tresses behind me, feeling strands of my hair cling to my damp back. The temperature in the room seemed to rise with each passing second, making me feel more alert and alive than I had in months.
In one swift motion, Clarke tossed me onto my back. He was on me in a second, his kisses sliding from my lips, to my jaw, and down along my neck. I wanted him now more than ever, and I lifted my hips and ground myself against him in my eagerness. I could feel his cock hidden beneath his slacks, already so temptingly hard. As desperate as I was, he seemed insistent on taking his time—to kiss and taste every inch of me with agonizing slowness.
As Clarke slid down my body and his lips found one of my nipples, I sighed with longing. Wriggling beneath him, I managed to work my hand between our bodies and find his zipper. He continued circling my sensitive nub with his tongue, making me writhe and moan as I worked open his pants and slipped my hand inside. I grabbed his cock, which was stiff and pulsing beneath his boxers. Through the thin fabric, I could feel every contour of his shaft, imagining what it would feel like when it was once again inside me. My empty cunt throbbed in anticipation.
Clarke sighed against my heated flesh as I slipped my hand inside his shorts and grasped his shaft, my fingers sliding along his length as I stoked his passion. A few lazy strokes of my hand was all it took to make him rise and tear off the rest of his clothing, his impatience finally catching up with my mine.
I was stretched out on top of the mussed bedsheets, my legs parted in invitation, and Clarke dove between them. His warm breath puffed over my bare slit, making my body shiver as he drew closer. He brought his mouth to the split between my legs, his lips meeting my wet flesh and his tongue teasing the length of me. I tossed my head back against the pillows and moaned loudly, not caring who heard my cries as he tricked his tongue over my button until I shattered in an explosion of absolute ecstasy.
&nb
sp; Once I’d caught my breath, I reached for him, pulling him up and into my arms. Clarke leaned in for another kiss, and I tasted myself on his tongue as our lips met. My body hummed with pleasure, but I was in no way sated. Wrapping my arms around him and nestling my thighs against his, I silently begged for more. Our slick bodies connected in a perfect moment of heat and lust as his cock nudged my slit.
Sliding my hands down his back, I grasped the toned cheeks of his ass, feeling his muscles contract under my fingertips. I pulled him toward me and rose up off the mattress, beckoning him with the motions of my body. Clarke’s cock gradually slid inside me as our sighs became one, our bodies rocking together with a familiar, comforting rhythm.
Rather than the frenzied coupling I’d expected, he stroked in and out of my sex slowly. My desire was quickly tempered and replaced by a simmering lust. Clarke kept his eyes focused on me as I breathed through parted lips, feeling our connection deepen, even though I wouldn’t admit my feelings out loud. He held my hips steady, thrusting in and out of me and gradually bringing me to the edge of another climax. Overwhelmed, I gasped and moaned as I let him carry me away on an unending wave of bliss. I was lost in that heady moment as he sighed my name, his cock pulsing inside me as he reached his own peak.
Afterward, we were breathless and quiet, and I lay on my side staring out the window. I was unaware of how much time had passed, but the sky was on the edge of twilight, streaks of orange fading into an indigo night. A cool breeze flowed in the open window, billowing out the thin curtains and making me shiver. Goosebumps blossomed on my arms, as I felt the perspiration on my skin cool and dissipate. It was the first hint of fall, the subtle change in the air giving a hint of what was to come.
Over the tenement rooftops, I saw the full moon glowing in the darkening sky. I waited to feel the mattress shift as Clarke rose to leave as he usually did at this time. Always on the defensive, I’d trained him not to linger. But this night was different, and more surprisingly, I didn’t mind. Instead of him leaving, his arm draped over my torso, his hand warm and soft against my stomach.
“I thought you’d be on your way by now,” I uttered, trying not to let my feelings show, but finding that my voice had lost its edge. I’m usually good at masking my emotion, but I was naked and raw—an exposed nerve. I tried to summon my strength, to slowly build my walls back up as I steeled myself for another good-bye. The dark hours after his departure were always the times I’d miss him most. But the next day when the sun rose, the world would change and I’d fall into step, tumbling into my routine without looking back. But while I’d wait, morning couldn’t come quickly enough.
“I have to tell you something,” he uttered in a soft whisper, returning to the words I wouldn’t allow earlier. He seemed hesitant, without his usual self-assured swagger. His fingers flexed slightly as he stroked my bare flesh, and I felt a little quiver deep inside, a flicker of reawakened desire.
“What?” I asked, still gazing at the sky.
“This time I bought a one-way ticket.”
The siren of a passing squad car pierced the stillness of the night and masked my startled gasp.
“So you’re not going home?”
He nuzzled the back of my neck and whispered, “I’m already there.”
I leaned back against his muscular chest, feeling my body relax in an instant as I finally realized that I was, too.
Boil or Bake
SOMMER MARSDEN
“It’s a clambake,” I said.
“A seafood boil,” Julie corrected.
“Does it matter?”
“Nope,” she said. “It’s food.”
There was cold beer, sand, a roaring ocean and a bonfire. Buff men and girls trying to look sexy but it was so freaking cold from the sun going down they were donning sweaters faster than could be tracked by the human eye. The blistering heat of the day and the searing August sun had given up the ghost for the day and despite not wanting to acknowledge it, they had to. But they didn’t seem happy about it.
I watched Julie spot and then snag two handsome beach boys. The dark haired one looked at her like she was dinner. I could only laugh when she turned and waved me over, looking very much like a greedy kid on Christmas morn’. I shook my head and waved her on—urging her to go.
I pushed my toes into the sand, still slightly warm on top, but cool farther down. I wiggled my toes and shut my eyes after one more glance at the pink-stained sky.
“You need a beer?”
He was tall and blond and green eyed. A typical surfer boy with white teeth and tan skin and a slight spattering of caramel freckles over his nose.
“Got one.” I wiggled said beer to prove it and he plopped into the sand next to me.
“I saw it. I was just trying to cozy up to you,” he said. “Mike.” He stuck out his hand.
“Alice,” I said and took it. “Consider yourself cozied. My friend has left me for visions of cute boys dancing in her head, or more like it, dancing in the surf.”
I watched Julie running after some giant guy with long dark hair and abs you could bounce rocks off of.
“You sound um…”
“Um?”
“Bitter?”
I laughed. “Maybe a little. Bad break up, summer bullshit, trying to blow off some steam before heading back to the city. I have a new job as a law office intern waiting for me.”
“You sound excited.”
For whatever reason I patted his leg. Under his faded out Levi’s his thigh was hard and unyielding. Something in my gut shifted. Something further down too, a pulse had taken up residence in the very center of me. My pussy flexed and I knew I was doomed. Doomed to a quick fuck with handsome Mike and his freckles.
He looked at me, grinning. He was reading my mind and he liked it.
I laughed loudly and said, “Super stoked.” Then I put my hand a bit higher and watched his face.
“Blowing off steam, huh?” he leaned in but didn’t kiss me. He simply hovered there within kissing distance, my cheeks buzzing and tingling with his close proximity.
“Yep.”
“I could help.”
“I was hoping.”
His mouth was sweet and soft and tasted like saltwater and bitter beer. I let him cup my face, let him push me back into the soft sand. Somehow we were insulated from the crowd—far enough away that no one was paying little old us a lick of attention.
“By the way,” I said as his hand tangled in my long hair, tugging just enough to start my pulse thrumming. This was the stuff that summer one-night stands were made of—the ones you talk about when you’re old and gray after having one too many drinks. “Is it boil or bake?”
“What?”
When I put my hand on the fly of his jeans and stroked the hard cock I found waiting and ready, he cleared his throat and said again, “What?”
“I said, is it boil or bake? Are we at a clambake or a seafood boil?”
“Bake,” he said. “See there, the pit in the sand? If it were a boil—”
I squeezed his cock hard enough to make him sigh and shake his pretty blond hair. “Yes?” I chuckled.
“We’d be boiling it, in a pot…”
I froze and then tilted my head back, laughing at the sky. “Oh fuck. Duh.”
His mouth came down over my pulse, his lips soft but insistent. His teeth nipped the jumping flesh on the slope of my neck and I worked my button, pulled down my zipper. “I hope you won’t think me forward—”
“Please, Alice, be forward—” He sighed it out and I smiled. The air was purple now. The wind whipping our hair around, stealing our voices.
“Can you fuck me? Can I fuck you…” I grinned feeling like my teeth must be damn near neon on the dusk because his were. “Can we fuck, Mike?”
“We can. Come on.” He stood and grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the sea grass that whispered like coconspirators in the wind.
When I got him behind that waving grass, I realized how much I wanted to e
nd this summer with something big. Some big abandon that made me feel fresh and new. I stripped my white turtleneck sweater over my head, shucked my jeans.
My feet were bare so I stood there, unruly hair blowing, wearing nothing but navy blue bikini panties and a white bra. Not even sexy underthings, but I didn’t think it mattered.
“Brave girl. Just shucking the clothes.” He traced a nipple through my cotton bra, leaned in to kiss me. The wind grabbed his voice and tried to toss it away but I heard him. I also felt the heat of his fingers on my chilly skin as he tugged down my bra cups and pinched.
Just enough pain. Just enough to sizzle a path from breast to cunt. I shivered. I was cold and I was turned on—a vibration had taken up in me that was part chill and part arousal.
“Take off your pants,” I said, my lips pressed to his ear so he could hear me. I tugged the top button and yanked. The buttons gave easily, the line of brass discs surrendering to my harsh tug.
“Condom, back pocket,” he growled as I pushed at his pants. I fished it out and tucked it in my panties.
Surfer boy Mike laughed and grabbed me up in his arms, his hands cupping my ass, my legs wrapping his waist. He kissed me and I mashed my breasts to his bare, smooth chest. One big hand pulled away from me and then landed with a crack. I went rigid, heat flooding my ass cheek and then my pussy.
“Oh, dirty.”
“Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he said.
“I am definitely paying attention. I was before but now there’s no doubt.”
“Yeah?” His green eyes were now just black pools in the dark. Only a faint orange glow from the bonfire floated in the air. He looked like a man touched by a demon.