Lucky 7

by Rae D. Magdon

  Rami smiles. “Sure, why not?”

  “Well, we were gonna play volleyball,” Cherry says, with a mixture of amusement and resignation.

  “But not anymore,” Rami finishes.

  “Why not?” I ask, although my lips are still having trouble moving. I still can’t stop staring at Elena.

  Cherry nods at her too. “That’s why.”

  “Bet your ass,” Elena says.

  “But—”

  Cherry nudges me a bit too hard with her elbow. “Scram, jefa. Get you some.”

  My face heats up as Elena grabs my wrist and starts hauling me toward the cabana, but I don’t have any objections either. I barely even manage to give Cherry and Rami an apologetic look before I’m dragged away, but neither of them seems particularly upset.

  “Hey, Rock!” Cherry hollers, sprinting across the beach on long, bronzed legs. “Come over here, dude. We need you and the munchkins for volleyball!”

  “Doc’s not gonna like being called a munchkin,” I tell Elena.

  “Jacobo won’t either,” Elena says. We arrive at the cabana, and she takes my other hand as well, leading me past the gauzy white curtain. “But I don’t give a shit right now.”

  “Hmm?”

  I forget whatever else I’m planning to say as Elena reaches behind her back and unties her bikini top. It pops right off and flutters to the floor, leaving her breasts bare. While I’m still trying to decide whether to grab for them or wait and see where she’s going with this, she grabs a bottle of coconut oil and waves it in front of me. “My skin needs some love. You’re gonna spread this…” She gestures from her shoulders to mid-thigh. “Over all this.”

  “I assume the two of you would like some privacy?” another voice says.

  Elena flinches in surprise and crosses her arms over her breasts. “Val, what the fuck?” she huffs. “Why are you being creepy?”

  Val’s avatar shimmers into existence a polite distance away, dressed in a modest purple bikini top with a matching flowered sarong around her waist. “I am not ‘being creepy.’ This is the location of the nearest terminal, and where my databox is currently plugged in. Technically, you are the ones intruding on me.” Despite all that, Val doesn’t seem annoyed. Her expression is amused more than anything.

  “Well,” Elena grumbles, “go play volleyball with the others or something.”

  “This terminal is in close enough range to project me nearby, but does not have the capacity to project hard light. The ball would pass through my avatar.”

  She rolls her eyes in frustration. “You know what I meant. Go be somewhere that isn’t here.”

  Val’s smirk grows wider. “I suppose they will need a scorekeeper and referee.”

  “Yeah, that,” Elena says. “Go do that.”

  “Sorry, Val,” I call after her as her avatar leaves the cabana.

  “No apologies necessary. I know sexual intercourse is an important social bonding experience for most organic beings.”

  I hang my head and sigh, pinching my forehead with my fingers. “She phrased it that way just to make me squirm, didn’t she?”

  “Is that even a question?” Elena pops the cap off the bottle of coconut oil and feathers her slippery fingertips along the side of my arm. “So, where were we?”

  My heart starts pounding again, a throbbing pressure that radiates all the way down between my legs. “I thought you wanted me to rub you down.”

  “Right.” For a second I think Elena’s going to kiss me again, but she fakes me out. She sways over to one of the cabana’s comfortable loungers instead, stretching across the flat surface stomach-first.

  I’m a little disappointed that I can’t see her breasts anymore, but the sight of her ass barely covered by her swimsuit is a pretty fantastic consolation prize. I honestly can’t decide which I like better.

  “Well?” Elena sweeps aside some of her hair, looking over her shoulder at me. “Get oiling.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I hurry over and straddle her thighs, uncapping the bottle of oil and drizzling a generous amount onto my hands. They want to roam everywhere at once, but I make myself start with her shoulders, rubbing flat circles across her upper back.

  Elena sighs with happiness, groaning when I dig my thumbs in. “Nnn. Feels good, Sasha.” Her voice is a low purr, the kind that leaves me hungry for more. I work the knots behind the wings of her shoulder blades, hoping to coax it out again. It’s not hard. Elena’s beautifully free with her noises, offering encouragement with every touch.

  “You’ve got magic hands. You know that?” She wiggles a bit beneath me, and I don’t miss the way her rear rocks back into my pelvis.

  I’m tempted to pull her bottoms down and squeeze her ass in my hands, but I’ve barely started on her back. I slather another coat of oil on my palms and work outward from her spine, making sure to get the sides of her arms. “Really? What makes you say they’re magic?”

  Elena rests her cheek on her forearm and gives me a lazy sideways glance. “Previous experience.”

  Her answer sends a shudder straight through me. I remember how it feels to have my hand between Elena’s legs, what it’s like to curl my fingers up into her heat and hold the very heart of her. It’s a memory I want to make real again soon, but I’ve got time.

  I work more oil into Elena’s arms, making sure to get all the way around her biceps before moving down to her forearms. She shifts her head and offers them to me. I make sure to massage the palms of her hands as well.

  “You’re thorough,” she laughs as I weave my slippery fingers through hers.

  I bring one of her glistening hands up for a coconut-scented kiss. “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “Not complaining about it.” Elena slides her hand out of mine and tucks it back beneath her, giving her backside another wiggle. “Be as thorough as you want.”

  Her voice is almost a challenge. If I wasn’t determined to go slow before, I definitely am now. I spend ages spreading oil up and down her spine, covering the bronze expanse of her back with at least three coats. Even after that, I draw wavy lines with my fingertips, teasing patterns that make her giggle and squirm beneath me.

  “Hey, that tickles,” she whines, but it’s not an unhappy noise.

  “So? Deal with it.”

  I switch from lines to spirals, then move on to words. I spell her name on her shoulders, then mine on her lower back, right above the cute dimples at the base of her spine. I’m not sure Elena even realizes what I’m doing, but she’s enjoying it, judging by the sounds she’s making. There isn’t a trace of the letters once I finish, just plenty of gleaming skin, but that’s okay, because I know they’re there.

  Once more, I consider peeling off her bottoms, but even though the thought makes me ache, my pride won’t let me. Elena asked for thorough, and that’s what she’ll get. I scoot down on the lounger and get to work on her legs, starting with the soles of her feet. Despite her full curves and padded figure, she’s got the calves of a soccer player, all firm muscle. She moans when I start massaging them, spreading her legs wider.

  I moan too. With her thighs parted, I can see a hint of stained red fabric, as well as one of her outer lips. All that wiggling must have shifted her swimsuit to the side. My hands slide up, but I stop them at the backs of her knees. I can’t rush it now, after I’ve already stretched it out for so long.

  By the time I reach Elena’s thighs, she’s quivering beneath me. She isn’t squirming anymore—her rocking motion is deliberate, like she’s trying to rub herself forward against the lounger. “Are you seriously humping the chair?” I ask, clicking my tongue.

  “Because you aren’t fucking me yet,” Elena huffs. She doesn’t stop, and the movements stretch her swimsuit bottoms further off-center. I can even see a hint of her clit poking through.

  “That’s because I’m not done.” I roam up along Elena’s thighs, stopping just short of her ass before dragging back down.

  After that, Elena decides
to stop being a smartass. Her hips hover several inches off the chair, and she whimpers with disappointment. “Sasha,” she sighs, and that almost breaks my willpower. She has to be doing it on purpose. Elena’s a smart girl, and she knows it drives me crazy when she says my name. I pour out some more oil, then pull her swimsuit down below her backside.

  Filling my hands with her ass is overwhelming. At first I stare in awe, savoring the oily indents my fingers leave in her flesh. Her cheeks split open as I knead them, and she spreads her thighs further, giving me an even better view. Her lips are plump and pouting, already swollen, and her clit twitches as I pull them further apart with my thumbs.

  I’m satisfied with that for a while, massaging soft handfuls of Elena’s ass and stroking my thumbs up and down the edges of her pussy. After a few passes, she’s dripping all over herself, making a mess of the lounger that I know I’ll have to clean up later. I don’t care. If I’m the reason for the mess, it’s well worth it.

  Elena lets me touch her wherever I want, practically melting into the lounger as I shape her with my hands. When I circle her clit with a dripping finger, she lets out a sob that sounds like my name, all wrapped up in a please. That’s when I realize how close she is. She’s pulsing visibly, and I’m pretty sure if I slipped a finger or two inside, she’d come right away.

  “Flip over,” I say before I can give in. Elena seems dazed at first, but a light smack to her ass gets her moving. She rolls onto her back, and I just about swallow my tongue. Her nipples have stiffened to tight points, practically begging to be pulled. I run my thumbs in circles around her hipbones, sliding slowly up her stomach before cupping her breasts in both hands.

  Elena’s eyes roll back. Her head lolls onto the lounger, and her hips stir beneath mine. I hover just out of reach, denying her the contact she wants. Instead, I play with her breasts, just squeezing at first, then sliding my thumbs around and around her nipples until they’re twice as thick as they were before.

  “Sasha,” Elena begs, cracking her warm brown eyes open. If she’s trying to glare at me, it’s not working. She doesn’t look impatient, only desperate. “I need it.”

  I roll the peaks of her breasts between my fingers until they’re too slippery to pinch. “Need what?”

  “Fingers.” She lifts her hips again, tilting up toward me. Kneeling between her spread thighs, I’ve got a perfect vantage point to see both my hands on her breasts and the wetness between her legs.

  I tweak her nipples again. “I’m using my fingers. See?”

  “Inside me,” she groans, lifting one of her knees and wrapping it around my waist. It can’t be comfortable for her, since she’s flat on her back and I’m practically upright, but it does make me feel a little sorry for teasing her. I give her breasts a little more attention until I see her teeth sink into her full lower lip and her belly starts to jump with the beginnings of contractions. That’s when I finally slide my hand straight down her body and cup between her legs.

  Elena’s wetness is even more slippery than the oil. It runs all over my fingers, covering them in clear, silky strands. There isn’t any resistance at all when I push my middle finger inside her, and when I add my ring finger, Elena cries out so loud I’m worried everyone outside of the cabana will be able to hear. Not that a little shouting is going to stop me. I glide in and out of her a few times, testing how deep I can go, and then curl forward to hit her front wall.

  She comes the second I press in. Her whole body goes rigid, shuddering hard, and her throat bobs as she chokes down a scream. I tip forward and swallow it with my mouth, stretching out on top of her and pushing my tongue past her lips so she won’t make too much noise. That only makes her muscles clench harder. She squeezes tight around my fingers, trying to suck them even deeper. I add a third, just to see if I can, and it pops right in alongside the other two.

  Elena squeals into my mouth and starts sucking hard on my tongue. She shakes harder and flutters faster, spilling a flood straight into my palm. Each pulse of her rippling walls pushes out more, and I hook my fingers into her as hard as I can, trying to extend her peak for as long as possible. There’s nothing in the world as good as making a beautiful girl come. And not just any beautiful girl, either. The fact that it’s Elena means…something. Something that doesn’t seem so scary after all we’ve been through.

  It takes me a moment to realize Elena’s stopped coming. Her eyes are open again, and she stares at me with a smoldering heat that’s surprising, considering how hard she’s panting. “Pull out, Jefecita. My turn.”

  Monday, 06-21-65 14:35:14

  I WANT TO LET Elena take her turn. The ache between my legs is growing stronger by the second. Still, I hesitate. My dick is in my bag upstairs, and I don’t want to leave Elena’s side. It’s so wonderful to be on top of her, inside of her, pressed close enough for the oil from her skin to smear all over mine. I’m not sure I could give it up if I wanted to. The only thing I can think of is to start curling my fingers again, enjoying the way Elena’s walls twitch around me.

  “Uh-uh.” Elena grabs my hand, pulling my fingers out of her and bringing them to rest on her thigh. “My turn, remember?”

  I give her a look. “That’s not how this works,” I tell her, slipping back into the role I’m more comfortable with: the top who’s in complete control. When I don’t find any objection in her eyes, I slip back into her, giving a few more lazy pumps of my fingers.

  Elena moans, forgetting what she wants for a moment in favor of what her body needs. She clenches around me, and I know if I keep going, I’ll make her come again. But after a few deep breaths, she bracelets my wrist, bringing my hand to a stop. “Sasha,” she says, pausing to brush her lips over mine without really kissing them. “What if I gave you a blowjob?”

  I can tell Elena isn’t going to give up. I steal one last kiss from her mouth and start to tear myself away from the soft cushion of her body.

  “No, don’t.”

  I look at Elena in confusion. “It’s upstairs—”

  “You’ve got enough for me to suck on.”

  My face heats up. I’ve tried thinking about it that way sometimes, more often before I bought my first prosthetic. Once in a while, it works. Usually it doesn’t. There are aspects of womanhood I still connect and identify with, but my parts aren’t one of them. And even though I know all too well that body parts don’t make a woman, being touched that way feels…vulnerable. In a good way, on some occasions, but more often in a not-good way.

  I think about the time Elena went down on me in the shower. I’d tried then, but as hot as she was, it hadn’t been enough. Maybe this time, though…maybe it’ll be better.

  “Okay. Just, uh, don’t get your hopes up.”

  Elena smirks at me. “If you don’t come in my mouth, I’ll let you take me upstairs and fuck my face until you do. Deal?”

  My doubts loosen their stranglehold on my chest. No one’s ever been this understanding about it, not the nameless girls I’ve been with, and not Megan either. She wasn’t mean about it—which is maybe the only positive thing I can possibly think to say about her—but she was basically a pillow princess. She didn’t care enough to check in with where my head was as long as she got fucked. Elena’s different. She’s actually talking to me. It’s easy to push Megan out of my mind while she’s stretched out naked beneath me.

  “I can’t say no to that.”

  “Good answer.” Elena slides out from under me, standing up on wobbly legs. She still seems weak in the knees from her orgasm, but her eyes are full of energy. “Sit.”

  I sit, turning myself to face her. Then she does something that sends a stab of desire straight through my core. She drops to her knees in front of me, folds her hands behind her back, and murmurs: “Now you call the shots, Jefecita.”

  I’m tempted to grab for her, but I restrain myself. Instead I reach for one of the spare towels sitting next to the lounger and wipe the oil and come off my hands. I want to mess Elena’s hair up, bu
t not that much. Making her wait is a bonus. She squirms on her heels, trying and failing not to look impatient, and I know why. She’s handed over power to me, and the anticipation of what I’ll do with it is getting to her.

  Once my hands are dry, I consider what to do about my swimsuit. The decision to pull down my trunks is an easy one, but my top is more difficult. It bares my midriff, but keeps my chest fairly flat. The look of hunger that takes over Elena’s face is enough to tempt me out of it. Her dark eyes have zeroed in as I pull it off, and her tongue leaves a glistening line on her lips as she wets them. I’m naked, but thanks to her admiration, I don’t feel overexposed.

  “Closer,” I tell her, shifting to the edge of the chair and spreading my legs.

  Elena scoots closer. The sight of her kneeling in front of me, remaining silent for once in her goddamn life and offering up total obedience, is a powerful head rush. I slide my hand over the top of her head, petting her hair before I clench several locks of it in my fist. “Don’t use your hands,” I say, pulling her head between my legs. “Just your mouth.”

  She looks up at me, those big brown eyes full of the desire to please. “Claro, Jefecita.” Then she dips down, and I feel the flat of her tongue sweep over me from bottom to top. She licks like that for a while, and I get the sense she’s doing it on purpose. She’s sticking with something she knows won’t get me off, probably so I’ll give more specific instructions.

  I don’t, not right away. I’m trying to decide how I feel about her tongue on me. Maybe a bit weird, but not bad. Possibly even good. When I grip her hair tighter and grind into her mouth at my own pace, it feels better. The control helps, and so do the whimpers she makes each time I back off so she can steal a breath.

  When her tongue starts to swirl around my opening, asking to push inside, I pull her away. Her face looks beautiful with her chin all shiny from me. There’s even a little whiteness to the clear strands, which helps sell the fantasy. “Not like that. I want you to suck me.”