by Kim Wickford
I hesitated outside the bathroom door, my hand frozen on the handle. I wanted to go in and surprise him, but I feared he'd be so startled by my unexpected appearance that he might slip and crack his head open on the tub. Perhaps it would be better if I waited for him in his room until he was finished. That seemed like a safer option.
I sprawled across his bed and tried to decide if I should be naked or not. No, naked was too presumptuous. Once I talked some sense into the man, I wanted to experience the thrill of seduction. I wanted him to undress me. I wanted him to tug at my shoulder straps, and kiss my neck, and …
Before I realized what I was doing, my hand was under my skirt, pawing at my pussy through my panties. I couldn't believe how wet I was. I writhed in Logan's sheets, savoring the scent of his hair on the pillow. When I pulled his blankets around me and closed my eyes I could almost imagine he was with me.
I shuddered and convulsed beneath the covers. My orgasm caught me by surprise. I'd never come so fast before in my life.
When I finally caught my breath, I realized I was acting like a fool. What was I doing in his room? What more could I hope to say to Logan to make him change his mind about us?
Then I had another thought. Maybe I didn't need to say anything to him. Maybe I could communicate my desire for him in a different way. Maybe I could win him over with pheromones instead of words.
I pressed the palm of my hand between my thighs to rub my panties against my damp pussy. The material was infused with my juices. I shimmied the lacy garment down my hips, and kicked it free.
I placed my gift in the middle of Logan's bed, where he was sure to find it, and smoothed the covers on top.
I know … it was a wanton, reckless thing to do. Something done in the heat of passion. But I couldn't help myself. I was desperate to try anything.
Later that evening, when my sanity finally returned, I fretted over my crazy behavior. How would Logan react? Would he be angry? Would he accuse me of trying to get us both in trouble? Or would he secretly be aroused. Would he sniff the crotch of my panties and rub them against his stiff cock? The mere thought of him stroking himself as he thought of me sent a flutter of desire between my legs.
"Amber, how many times do I have to ask?" Mom said, jolting me from my pervy daydream. "Stop staring into space and pass the potatoes."
"Sorry."
"What's gotten into you lately?"
"Nothing," I grumbled and reached across the dining table to hand her the serving dish.
Several days passed and I still had no idea how my little panty gift had been received. I checked my phone constantly in case Logan texted me. Some nights I lay awake for hours in case he tapped on my window, eager to be let into my bed again.
I needed to know his reaction, one way or the other. Since he wasn't being very forthcoming, it was time to take a more drastic step. Tomorrow, when he came over for Boys' Night, I would make my move.
Chapter 9
I went down to the rec room dressed in an over-sized t-shirt that almost came down to my knees. The tray I carried was loaded with chips, pretzels and salsa.
Dad stood at the bar with his back to the TV, preparing one of his elaborate booze-filled concoctions. "You coming to watch the game with us tonight, honey?" he asked with a hopeful look in his eyes. Sometimes I got the feeling he wished I'd been born a boy. Or, at the very least, showed more of an interest in sports.
I shook my head. "Mom needed help delivering these snacks, so here I am."
Logan gave me a cursory nod when I said hello to him. He took a long swig from his beer, and did his best to keep his attention focused on the pre-game show.
I stood beside his lounger at an uncomfortably close distance and held the tray under his nose. "Treat, Mr. Worthington?"
The leather squeaked as he shifted in his seat. "No … thank you."
I glanced over at Daddy to make sure he was still at the bar, tending to his drink. Then I bent over to put the tray on the coffee table in front of Logan.
"If there's anything else you'd like to snack on," I said as the hem of my shirt slid up to reveal my bare ass, "please let me know."
My exposed pussy was inches from Logan's face.
He choked on his beer.
I looked at him over my shoulder and gave him a seductive smile.
He scowled in return.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything else," I said, and trailed a finger across Logan's arm as I headed for the stairs.
*
An hour later Mom and I were doing the dishes when Mr. Worthington came up from the rec room. My heart began to race.
"Can I get you something?" Mom asked.
"Thanks, I'm good. The game was rained out in the fifth inning, so I'm heading home."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Say, could you do me a favor on your way out? Grab that bag of trash and dump it in the bin outside."
"Sure. Want me to take the recycling too?"
"If you can manage it. Thank you."
"I could use a hand here," he said with a pointed look in my direction.
I shivered in anticipation as I put down my dishtowel and followed Logan out the side door. The box full of empty cans and bottles rattled in my arms.
Logan placed the trash in the wheelie bin beside the house, then he turned to face me. Instead of relieving me of my load, he pushed his face close to mine and hissed, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Helping you take out the trash."
"Don't play innocent with me. You know exactly what I mean." He reached into his pocket and threw something onto the recycling box I carried. It was the panties I'd left on his bed. "And things like this have got to stop."
"You carry those around with you all the time?" I asked, thrilled that he'd kept my underwear so close to him.
His eyes flashed. "What if your father had caught you shoving your ass in my face? Do you know how much trouble you could have caused? This isn't a game, Amber."
And this wasn't the reaction I'd hoped to hear from him. He was so stern, so angry. What made things even worse was that he was probably right. I'd taken a terrible risk doing something so bold. But I couldn't help myself. Logan had no idea the desire he had awoken in me.
"I'm sorry," I said in a chastened whisper. "I should have known better."
"Promise me this will never happen again."
"I promise."
"Good."
Logan took the box from my hands and emptied it into the recycling bin. Then he took a quick glance at the back door. Before I knew what was happening he had one hand cupped behind my head and the other around my waist. He pulled me close. His mouth was on mine—hard and desperate and filled with longing. Our tongues entwined. I felt myself melting into his embrace.
Oh, my sweet, sweet Logan!
His hand slipped under the hem of my t-shirt to clutch at my bare buttocks. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my pussy to his crotch, feeling the hardness of his swelling erection. I wanted more, so much more. But I was too eager, too anxious. As I pawed at him, I lost my balance. The two of us tumbled against the trash bins.
Mother's voice cut through the darkness. "What's going on out there?"
Logan and I leapt apart as if we'd been electrocuted.
We both looked up. Oh, shit! The kitchen window was open above us.
I cringed and clutched my head in my hands. "Everything's fine," I said, trying hard not to sound too breathless. "Logan is just being a klutz."
"I hope he didn't make a mess out there."
"No, not much."
We stood frozen to the spot for what seemed like an eternity. Mom didn't say anything more, and she didn't come out to investigate. My shoulders drooped in relief. Sadly, the moment between me and Logan was lost. Without another word, he vanished into the darkness.
What the hell had just happened?
That night, as I lay in bed, I transformed into a masturbating fiend. Every detail of Logan's kiss played over an
d over in my mind. The way his strong arms had wrapped around me. The hungry way we'd devoured each other. The roughness of his hand as he'd gripped my ass and slipped a finger between my cheeks.
I had no idea why he was telling me off one moment, and then ravaging me the next. Was it a sign that there was hope for us after all? Or was he leading me on?
I was so confused.
*
The following morning, before breakfast, my parents asked me to join them in the living room.
"Have a seat," Dad said. He paced up and down, the way he usually did before he was about to make an important family announcement. Mom sat in her recliner. She fiddled nervously with the tassels on the end of a throw-pillow.
I looked back and forth between my parents. Their expressions were stern and concerned. A surge of panic raced through my veins. Had Mom overheard what Logan and I said to each other last night by the trash? Had she told Dad? Had our secret been discovered?
I took a seat on the couch and fought the urge to tear chunks of stuffing out of the cushions.
Dad stopped pacing and stood before me. "Amber, your mother and I know what's going on here."
I swallowed hard. "Dad, I can explain. It's—"
He held up a hand to silence me. "We aren't fools. Even though we're busy and seem distracted with our jobs, we're aware of everything that goes on in this house."
"We've known for a long time," Mom added.
"How long?" I asked, mortified.
"Since your party."
"H-how did you find out?" I stammered.
"Oh honey, you can't keep anything from us. We've seen the way you've been moping around the house for the past few weeks. I know why you're so upset."
"Mom, it's not what you think—"
"You'll be starting your final year of college soon. After that you'll be moving into your own place and getting a job. You're probably feeling heartbroken that this is the last summer we'll spend together as a family."
"We're sad you're leaving too," Dad said. "It's not easy when the baby bird flies from the nest." His voice cracked, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. "That's why I've decided we're gonna celebrate the end of the season with a bang." He paused for dramatic effect. "I've booked a cottage for us on Lake Brockwood for the long weekend."
"Surprise!" Mom grinned.
I nearly sobbed in relief.
"We leave first thing tomorrow morning," Dad said. "That gives you plenty of time to get packed and pick out your favorite swimsuit."
"Oh, and one more thing," Mom said. "We've asked someone to join us."
"Who?"
"Mr. Worthington. It's our way of thanking him for looking after things during your party. I hope you don't mind."
My throat went dry. "Not at all," I rasped.
Chapter 10
A rustic cabin stood at the edge of Lake Brockwood, surrounded by a thick grove of trees and accessible only by a dirt trail. It was an idyllic spot for a family vacation … or a romantic getaway. Anchored fifty yards from the shore was a wooden raft. It was large enough for several people to sunbathe, or to use as a diving platform.
The four of us grabbed our bags from the back of the car and piled through the front door.
"Uh, where are the rooms?" I asked as I poked around the cottage.
There was a kitchen in the back, and a seating area around the fireplace, but there weren't any doors leading to private bedrooms.
"Our booking was too late in the season," Dad said. "The cabins with rooms were all taken."
"So where do we sleep?"
Dad pointed to four fold-out cots stacked against the wall. "Looks like we're roughing it."
My heart sank. I had hoped that Logan and I would be "forced" to share a bedroom. I cringed at the thought that the next couple of nights would be spent side-by-side with my parents on the rusty old cots.
"It'll be so cozy," Mom said. "All of us together in the same room."
Cozy wasn't the word I would have used.
We stowed our gear and Dad and Logan went outside to gather wood for the barbecue pit. Mom and I changed into our swimsuits and lounged on the porch to enjoy the afternoon sun. We watched the men split a pile of logs that had been left next to the cabin. They took turns handling the axe. Logan, of course, did a much better job, his muscles rippling as he chopped through the wood twice as fast as Dad.
"He really knows how to handle that axe, doesn't he," Mom said, tipping her sunglasses down her nose to admire our neighbor. "You wouldn't believe how many ladies in the neighborhood have asked me to make an introduction."
"Why? So he can chop their wood?"
"Among other things," Mom said with a secret smile.
I folded my arms across my chest and gave a disapproving grunt. I didn't want to think about Logan with anyone else but me.
Dad took half the wood to the barbecue pit while Logan brought the rest inside to stack by the fireplace. Small leaves and tiny splinters clung to his t-shirt. When he came outside again the shirt was gone, and so were his jeans. He was dressed in a pair of tight, black swim trunks that hugged the curves of his ass, and sent a surge of longing through my body. A fine sheen of sweat covered his shoulders and chest, and I had a strange desire to go over and lick him clean, to savor the saltiness of his tanned flesh.
He wiped a forearm across his brow and looked out across the lake. "That water sure looks refreshing," he said. He turned to me. "Hey, Amber, I'll race you to the raft."
"Why don't you sit here for a moment and take a rest," I said, patting the chair beside me. "You're probably pooped from all that chopping."
"Yeah, I suppose I could use a breather."
The moment he settled into the lounger, I sprang to my feet and sprinted towards the shore.
"You sneaky little cheat!" he yelled.
His footsteps pounded the sand behind me as I took a shallow dive into the water. Despite his rigorous manual labor, and my impressive head start, he still managed to beat me to the raft by half-a-dozen strokes.
We climbed onto the floating platform and lay on our backs to catch our breath. Someone had been out there before us and left behind a bottle of sunscreen. I rolled onto my stomach and reached behind to untie my bikini top. I asked Logan to rub some lotion across my shoulders.
He glanced at the shore. "Probably not a good idea."
"Don't be silly. Do you want me to burn? I have delicate skin."
"I know," he said softly.
He was still breathing hard. I couldn't tell if it was from the exertion of swimming, or because he finally had a proper excuse to touch me again. He gave the bottle a shake and farted out a coin-sized dollop of lotion onto his palm.
I folded my arms under my head and rested my cheek on the back of my hands. "Why did you come on this trip, Logan?"
"Because your mother wouldn't accept 'no' for an answer."
"Is that the only reason?" I gave his leg a playful nudge with my elbow. "Are you sure it wasn't because you wanted to spend quality time with a certain someone?"
He rubbed the coconut-scented lotion across my back and remained silent. All I could hear was the soft friction of his hands on my skin, and the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sides of the raft.
"What happened the other night?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"One minute you tell me we have to stay away from each other. The next minute you're smothering me with kisses. You're really starting to mess with my head, Logan. I don't know if I'm coming or going."
The muscles of his jaw tightened, and he got a distant look in his eyes. I could almost see the conflict playing out across his face. I knew he was torn between respecting his friendship with my parents, and acting on the feelings he had for me. Feelings I wish he would admit out loud.
I turned my head away from him. "Mom wants to set you up with some of her single friends in the neighborhood." I traced a finger along the sun-bleached cracks in the wooden platform. "Some of
them are really pretty."
"I don't want to meet her friends," he said gruffly.
"What do you want?"
The motion of his hands on my skin was hypnotic. He moved to the small of my back and slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my bikini.
My body tensed; I should have reached back to stop him. Instead I whispered, "I'm not gonna get a sunburn under there, silly."
His fingers continued to explore, tracing the crease of my ass. "Better to be safe than sorry," he replied.
I suppressed a shiver and did my best not to reveal how much I was turned on. In truth I would have given anything for him to straddle me, to wrench my bikini down my thighs, and to fuck me senseless. But that probably wouldn't sit too well with my parents who were only fifty yards away.
Logan's wandering fingers "accidentally" brushed my pussy. I tried hard not to whimper. Did he know how much he was driving me crazy? He pulled the crotch of my bathing suit to one side and began to stroke my exposed pink lips. Wetness poured from me as he drew tiny circles along the folds of my cunt. If he kept this up much longer he'd make me cum right then and there.
"No, stop," I finally gasped.
"Stop what?"
"Why are you doing this now, while we're out here in the open? Where everyone can see."
As if on cue, Mom waved to us from the porch. Logan casually waved back with the same hand he'd used to massage my slit. His palm glistened with my arousal.
"These games you're playing are really fucking me up, Logan."
He lay on his side with his head propped up on his arm. There was a somber expression on his face. "This is the reason why we can't be together," he said. "I don't mean to play games with you, but whenever I'm near you it tests the limits of my self-control."
"Maybe you should have declined the invitation to come," I said, secretly wishing he'd put his hand back between my legs.
"Your mother is a stubborn woman. She gets what she wants." He looked me deep in the eye. "And something tells me her daughter takes after her."