Musical Beds

by Justine Elyot

  “Okay, well, this shirt is a little surplus to requirements, I must admit.”

  He unbuttoned slowly, revealing his long, lean torso, which lacked even an ounce of spare flesh. His pale, freckled arms were strong and sinewy, and Vanessa propped herself up and drank in the sight of them.

  “But if I’m going to get naked,” he continued, smiling roguishly, “I think you should too. How about taking off that dress?”

  “Ben!” She looked around. The shores were still deserted. No other vessel floated on the lake’s surface. “What if another boat comes by?”

  He shrugged. “They’ll think you’re just sunbathing. Now, are you going to get that dress off or do I have to come over there?”

  She retracted her feet from him, giggling as he tried to make a swipe for her ankle. Pouting, but feeling the race of her heartbeat, she lifted the light cotton dress over her head, revealing her polka-dot bra and knickers. Thank God they match, she thought, but then Vanessa’s underwear always did.

  Ben purred in appreciation.

  “Now that’s a view,” he said. “Come over here.”

  “I’m not sure I should,” she replied, but she shuffled across the boat all the same, settling herself comfortably between Ben’s thighs, her back against his chest, her head resting beneath his chin.

  “Mmm, this is cosy, isn’t it?” he crooned into her ear. He reached for the basket of strawberries and took one, then popped it into Vanessa’s mouth. She returned the gesture and he took the fruit from her fingertips, sucking on them a little before he let her withdraw.

  Vanessa twisted her neck, presenting her mouth for a kiss, which Ben was only too happy to provide. They smooched like that for a while, the boat rocking gently, the trees whispering overhead, until Ben moved his hands down to her breasts, cupping them, fondling her nipples. She shimmied her hips, pushing back onto his erection, confined for now in his jeans, enjoying the sensation of his fingers delving inside her bra cups.

  “Ben,” she whispered warningly when their kiss broke off for a moment. “Don’t get carried away.”

  “Why not? I want to get carried away. I want to carry you away.”

  “You’re a naughty boy.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

  He squeezed her breasts together, pushing his fingertips into the soft flesh. Vanessa felt a damp heat in her knickers and she pressed her legs into one another and tried to squirm it out, but she had crossed the line now, too aroused to turn back.

  What was more, her lover’s fingers were taking a slow walk down across her stomach towards the source of that damp heat. It wouldn’t be long before they found it.

  “Anyone could come past,” she hissed, trying to push his wrist aside, but he persisted, reaching the very edge of her knicker elastic.

  “Look—no,” she said, trying to stand and escape his attentions. “This is too public.” She jerked herself forward, staggering to her feet. He tried to stand too, stretching out his arms for her. The boat lurched violently, side to side.

  Vanessa began to sway, reaching out to steady herself, but there was nothing to hold on to. Inexorably, as if in slow motion, she toppled forwards, and so did the boat.

  In less than a second, it had tipped both its occupants, not to mention the basket of strawberries, into the shallows. A pair of ducks made a panicked escape, quacking loudly, while Vanessa screamed for a moment. Then, when Ben emerged, dripping, from the waters, she began to laugh.

  They both collapsed into hysterical laughter, chasing each other around the lake bed, trying to retrieve their dress and shirt from the water. Once the boat was righted and the sodden clothes piled into it, they left it to drift while they played a waterlogged game of chase, yelping and giggling as they tried to wade quickly. Ben was the hunter, Vanessa the hunted, and she tottered around, her sandals sinking into the soft mud of the lake bed, until Ben caught her and dragged her down with him into the sun-warmed, but still chilly, waters.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly, leading her towards the shore. “These jeans are dragging me down to the core of the earth. Let’s get out of the water.”

  “Oh, God,” shivered Vanessa. “What are we going to do? Our clothes?”

  Ben tied the boat to a tree then reached in for the wet clothes.

  “Nothing else for it but to wait until they dry out,” he said. “Let’s find a likely spot.”

  They were on a small island in the lake’s centre. It was gently wooded, mainly with weeping willows. Ben found a bush on which to drape the clothes, then he removed his jeans, with some difficulty, and went to lie down on a patch of springy grass. Stretched out in his underpants and water-speckled sunglasses, he looked like an elemental creature of nature.

  “How long will it take?” asked Vanessa, looking doubtfully at the makeshift washing line. Her bra and panties were soaked through. She took off her sandals, which were suede and consequently ruined, and felt the softness under her feet.

  “I don’t know. Couple of hours. If the sun stays out.”

  She sat down beside Ben, hugging her knees.

  “More like three,” she said. “What are we going to do until then?”

  Ben propped himself up on an elbow, grinning.

  “I’ll give you three guesses.”

  “Ben. I’m soaking wet.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I know you are. You were before you ever fell in that lake.”

  “Stop it. I’m cold.”

  “You need warming up, then.”

  She felt she ought to protest, but the precursor of a smile hid behind her cheekbones.

  “This is no time to be thinking about sex.”

  “What? I’m lying on an island in the sun with my nearly naked, gorgeous woman. When would be a better time to think about sex?”

  Vanessa gave the side of his head a light smack.

  “I’ve probably got a load of river bugs in my knickers. Oh, God. Ugh. And there are creepy-crawlies everywhere.”

  Ben’s fingers scrabbled up her shin, then down her thigh. She shuddered with cold and tried to pull away from him.

  “Don’t!”

  “Honestly, Ness. You need to loosen up. And if you’ve got river bugs in your knickers, there’s an obvious solution to that. Take them off.”

  “That’s your obvious solution to everything.”

  “Yeah. Works, though. Look, the ground here’s dry. You aren’t going to get muddy or anything. And we can always wash ourselves off in the lake afterwards.”

  “Ben…”

  “What else are we going to do for three hours? Play I Spy?”

  His fingers were making mischief around her bra clip. Soaked and shivering as she was, Vanessa loved those talented fingertips, no matter what he did with them.

  “What if people see us?”

  “There are no people.”

  The clips pinged undone, releasing her breasts. A sliver of slippery green stuff—some kind of river weed—was stuck in her cleavage. She fished it out and flicked it at Ben.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he advised. “If you want a weed fight, I can give you a weed fight.”

  She laughed, despite her chattering teeth.

  “You’re a lunatic.”

  “Crazy for you,” he said. He pushed her down by the shoulders and straddled her, growling and snapping his teeth like a predatory beast.

  Vanessa wriggled inside his thighs. Already the sun was drying the lake water onto her skin. It felt a little tight and sticky, but she was warming up—except where Ben’s underpants and her knickers pressed wetly together.

  “You should take your pants off,” she suggested, while he kneaded and massaged her breasts.

  “Yes. I should.” He spent a couple more minutes caressing her nipples, then he rose to his knees and began to peel the pants slowly down. They made damp smacking sounds when the elastic stretched, then recoiled. Eventually, he had to stand to get them off the end of his foot. Vanessa smi
led up at his erection.

  “How long has that been going on?” she asked.

  “Since we got in the boat and I got a flash of your knickers. Speaking of which…”

  He bent and tugged at the aforementioned garment.

  Vanessa wasn’t sure she could cope with her bare bottom on the grass, but nothing seemed to crawl onto her, so she held her nerve until Ben placed the knickers on the bush with the other drying clothes.

  “Now then, my open-air boating beauty,” said Ben, dropping back down and covering her body with his. His demonic grin made Vanessa giggle.

  “I just don’t think I can do it,” she said apologetically. “I know I did it that time in the park but…”

  “Forget that you’re a sophisticated, sexy, cosmopolitan, twenty-first-century woman,” whispered Ben, before kissing her on the mouth. “You’re a wood nymph. And I’m a satyr. And I’ve run you to earth.”

  “Ben, you’re ridiculous—”

  “Nuh-uh.” He shook his head and put a finger on her lips. “I’m not Ben. I’m a rampant, lust-crazed satyr with an enormous erection. You tried to get away from me. You even swam the lake, but now I’ve got my hands—hooves?—on you. Actually, what do satyrs have? What are they, exactly?”

  Vanessa laughed, seduced by his disarming enthusiasm and charm.

  Would it hurt, just to indulge him in this?

  “So, I’m a wood nymph. Fine. Do your satyriac worst.”

  “Oh, baby. That’s an invitation.” He kissed her harder, deeper, pushing his hard cock between her thighs. “Oh,” he said, looking up with a grimace. “Condoms. They’re in my jeans pocket.”

  After establishing, as quickly as possible, that no water damage had been done to them, he slipped on a condom and got back to work.

  Vanessa wrapped her legs around him and gave in to the heady combination of warm sun, the smells of verdant nature all around her and the touch of her man. It was difficult not to be overwhelmed by the sensuality of the world in these circumstances. Ben’s hot lips and exploring hands brought her towards acceptance that this was what would happen to her. She would get fucked in the open air by her vigorous young lover. There was no way of fighting it.

  So she opened her legs and welcomed him in. He was considerate of her spine on the unforgiving ground and he thrust quite gently at first. When she began to ache, she urged him onto his back and sat astride him, knees pressed into the grass. He held her hips and looked up at her with such unwavering adoration that she felt like a goddess rather than a wood nymph. She worked that cock inside her, milking it, rotating around it, on a mission to get every drop of juice out of him.

  “You wanted this,” she said, teeth gritted. “Now I’m giving you what you wanted.”

  “Yes,” he said, panting. “God, yes.”

  She planted her palms on his shoulders, bending lower, seeking out the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against her G-spot. She shimmied her hips, pulling away from him until he bucked mindlessly, then plunging back down. Drunk on the power, she moved into a tormenting anti-rhythm until he gripped her tightly and pulled her into a more conventional pattern.

  Then she felt her arousal move off that plateau and up to the higher level. Her orgasm was on its way, slowly at first but, as long as she could keep this up, it wouldn’t be long in coming.

  “Ness, oh, Ness,” he said, pulling at her bum cheeks, spreading them.

  It was the perfect move. She rutted on him as if she had lost her mind and her senses had control of her. The orgasm spilled out, pouring through her body.

  Ben’s eyes flew wide open and he joined her. Their voices echoed through the weeping willow branches, drowning out the ducks and the breakers on the shore.

  If anyone else was on the island, they would definitely have heard it.

  Vanessa laid her cheek against his, cradled in his arms, waiting for the frantic beating of their hearts to slow.

  “Those satyrs are quite something,” she said at last, pulling herself off him and lying down on the grass. Creepy-crawlies and bugs were very far from the forefront of her mind now.

  “I was just thinking that about the wood nymphs,” he said, throwing his arm over his brow. “Whew.”

  Vanessa looked up at the endlessness of the blue sky.

  “It’s so lovely. Everything’s so lovely. You, me, the summer coming, being here, in this place. It’s like the perfect meeting of everything good.”

  He gripped her hand and squeezed it.

  “It is, isn’t it? I feel like I’m exactly where I want to be. And there’s so much to look forward to, as well.”

  “Really?” Vanessa turned her head to him. “Is there? Like what?”

  “Well, the rest of that summer you mentioned. The opening night of the Proms. Lots of sitting outside in the cool evenings and then going inside and…you know what.”

  “How romantically you put it.”

  “Ah, Ness. Honestly, I’m so full of optimistic feelings. If I could bottle them, I’d be rich.”

  “You’re so sweet. Getting so excited about the future.”

  “Aren’t you, then?” He raised his neck a little, squinting at her.

  “It’s different when you’re my age. This is lovely, of course it is, but in my mind I’m clinging on to this moment before it slips away, because I’m not sure I’ll ever experience something as perfect again.”

  “Oh, Ness. Of course you will. With me. Tomorrow, if you like. In five minutes’ time, if I’m up to it.”

  She shook her head, unable to rely on her voice. It felt a little wobbly.

  “Babe.” Ben sounded quite concerned. “Hey.”

  “Ben, I’m forty-two. Forty-three in August. I can’t help thinking I’m desperate. Trying to cling to my youth by taking yours. A silly old fool.”

  “Jesus, Vanessa, no! Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous. You’ll never be desperate.”

  “I hope you’ll always remember me fondly. Not as that rank old cougar that got her claws into you.”

  She put her arms around her knees and buried her chin in them, trying to hide her face from Ben.

  “Oh, don’t. Don’t call yourself that. What’s brought this on? I thought we were having fun.”

  “Is that what this is, Ben? Fun? A nice way to pass some time before the real love of your life turns up?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. She tried to twitch it away but he wouldn’t allow it.

  “I had no idea you were this insecure.”

  “I’ve had some bad experiences. With men.”

  “I’m not those men. I like you, genuinely. In fact, I more than like you. Every time I see you I fall for you a little bit more. I can’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else.”

  “Not now, you can’t.”

  He squeezed her shoulder, a little roughly.

  “Look, this is silly. I don’t know what the future will bring, but, as far as I’m concerned, I hope it’s a whole lot more of you. I can’t think of anything else I want.”

  “I’m still looking good. For my age. How long will that last?”

  “I think happiness and lots of sex are supposed to help that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, ha ha.” But she cracked a smile.

  “We’re all getting older,” said Ben. “In fact, it’s my birthday next month. The week before the Prom.”

  “Is it? I’ll have to bake you a cake.”

  “That’d be nice. But I can think of something I’d rather have.”

  “Not more sex, by any chance?”

  “For once, no. My parents are coming to town, taking me out to dinner. I’d like you to come with us.”

  Vanessa sat up, shaking dead grass stalks from her hair.

  “What?”

  “Yep. That dreaded time has come. The time to Meet the Parents.”

  “Oh, God, Ben, do you really want me to?”

  Her paranoia had flown away, replaced by exhilarated dread.

  “Yes, I do. You’re such a bi
g part of my life. They’ll want to get to know you.”

  “They’ll want to shoot me.”

  “No. You make their boy happy. Why would they want to shoot you?”

  “How old is your mother?”

  “Fifty-three.”

  “Okay. At least she’s older than I am. But she won’t want to see an old bint like me with her little boy. She’ll think I’m a cradle-snatcher. She’ll… Oh, God, I don’t think I can do it. Not yet, at least.”

  “Ness, relax. Lie down.”

  She lay back down, her hand over her mouth, pondering.

  “It’s really too big an age gap,” she said at last.

  “How can you say that? You don’t mean that.”

  “Why can’t you be older?” she lamented.

  “Because I can’t. After everything—all the good times we have, all the amazing sex, all the closeness… You’re panicking, that’s all. Just stop panicking, okay? You’ll see that this can work.”

  “What are your parents like?”

  “Nice. Tolerant. Liberal. Too liberal sometimes, especially when I was a teenager. Listen, they’ll just be relieved you’re not Sasha Milford.”

  “Sasha Milford?” She cocked her head to one side inquisitively.

  “My girlfriend when I was seventeen.”

  “Was she older, too?”

  “No, she was my age. Mad as a box of frogs, though. Constantly in trouble, sometimes with the police. She was so brave, though. She wasn’t scared of anything. That was what I liked about her.”

  Vanessa smiled, finding the idea of Ben chasing after a crazy girl with his hair flopping all over the place irresistibly endearing.

  “It wasn’t enough, though?”

  “No. She ditched me in the end. Went and joined some kind of anti-capitalist tent city somewhere. Never saw her again.” He looked up to the heavens and shook his head.

  “And off you went to music college.”

  “Yes. Not much of a rebellion, really. What about your exes, then? Milan’s one of them.”

  “Yeah. Disaster, for reasons you can probably guess.”

  “Was it anything to do with his planet-sized ego?”

  Vanessa laughed. “Basically. Yes.”

  “What about your ex-husband?”

  She turned away. “Ah, look, let’s not talk about him. I’ve already brought too much angst to the party. Are those clothes dry yet?”