A Little Dirty, A Little Bit Salty

Sam shook his head and glanced away. This was too much talk and not enough action. "Try me," he said. She wasn't that hard to convince.

"Excitement and intimacy are mostly what I get out of guys. Orgasms--not so much. It doesn't happen."

"But you've come before, right?" Ivy seemed a little embarrassed, but Sam wasn't letting her off the hook. "How can sex be so good if you don't come?"

"I like intimacy. It turns me on. I have orgasms, but only when I give them to myself."

"Let's get intimate," Sam said. He sat up, unsnapped Ivy's shorts and tugged the zipper open before she squirmed away.

"Sam, I have a deadline."

"You hit a dead end, remember? Take a break. Show me how you get yourself off. Teach me how."

That made Ivy laugh. "You want me to masturbate for you?"

Sam rose onto his knees and watched Ivy. "Well, yeah. I want you to masturbate for me, but it's really for you." She didn't try to stop Sam when he jerked her shorts and underwear from under her butt, and she lifted her feet to let him strip them off.

"I'm a skeptic," she said. "I'm perfectly fine the way I am, but you want to do something for me, and I have to do the work."

"Okay, so it sounds bad," Sam said.

Ivy retreated to the pillows at the end of the sofa, and Sam climbed between her legs. "How can it be bad? It's intimate, isn't it?"

Ivy tugged on Sam's tee-shirt. "Not yet, it isn't. At least give me skin."

She watched Sam whip his shirt over his head and drop it by the sofa, and she sat up to let him pull her shirt off. Ivy shook her hair out while Sam dropped it with his shirt, and she was already touching herself when Sam looked at her again.

Ivy cupped her left breast in her hand and tugged on her nipple. She kept her eyes on Sam, stroked her hand down her belly, and reached between her legs. She found her clit with one finger then moved two fingers over it, and her eyes drifted shut.

Sam licked his lips and watched Ivy reach deeper between her legs. His cock ached to be in her. She parted her pussy lips and swirled her fingers over her vagina until her fingers and her pussy glistened with nectar. She spread the slippery juice over her hood. Her bud stood out, firm and wet, and her fingers danced over it and around it in light, quick motions that Sam could barely see.

Ivy lifted her chin when he leaned to her throat. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her excited scent. He brushed her skin with his lips and whispered in her ear. "What are you thinking about?"

"You," Ivy said. Her eyes flew open and flicked around Sam's face before they drifted shut again. "And last night. How strong you were. How excited you were to be in me." She reached deep between her thighs again. She slipped her fingers between her wet creases, and she ground at a throbbing, slowly accelerating pace. "Come closer," she said. "Let me smell you."

Sam gave Ivy his throat. She inhaled his scent. She drew his skin between her lips and then between her teeth. Her body tightened and the sounds from her fingers came faster.

It didn't take long. Ivy stopped and clenched her teeth. She groaned and writhed on the pillows as she climaxed. "Ah fuck," she said, and melted back into the sofa.

Sam rose on his knees. Ivy's eyes fluttered open, and he caught her hands. "I came in colors," she said. "My God Sam, I came in colors."

"Is that good?" he asked. "It sounds good." He sniffed the scent on her fingers, and Ivy forgot to answer. He sucked her nectar then pressed her wrists down into the pillows beside her head and bent down to kiss her lips. He kissed her throat, and he kissed her shoulder.

Ivy slipped her hands out of Sam's hold and stroked his arms. "Did you learn something?"

"We'll find out." Sam said. He trailed his lips down to her breasts, cupped her in his hands and drew her nipples between his lips. He sucked her soft flesh until she moaned and stiffened between his teeth.

"Don't I even get to catch my breath first?" Ivy asked, and ran her fingers through his hair.

"What good would that do?" A little thrill went through Ivy when Sam slipped his rough hands down her sides. He arranged her legs around him and sank to his knees beside the sofa. Sam kissed the skin above her dark curls, and he kissed the white flesh inside her thighs--one side and then the other.

Ivy lifted her knees, and Sam glanced up between her breasts. She watched with wide eyes while he closed his mouth around her whole, soft mound. Ivy dropped her head back. She released the breath she'd been holding and sank into the pillows.

Sam breathed in Ivy's femininity. He wanted to taste every intimate crease and fold between her legs, but he slowed himself and set to work. He did with his tongue everything he saw Ivy do with her fingers.

Her voice came in gasps and groans. Her legs fell across Sam's shoulders, and she touched his head. He could feel thrills running through her body, and he did what he could to make them longer and harder.

Sam figured he had what he wanted when Ivy closed her thighs around his head. He couldn't see much--he could hardly breathe, but he kept her under his tongue. She bucked against his mouth and groaned at the ceiling, and then she was soft in Sam's grip.

The taste of success was a little salty. Sam couldn't enjoy it for long before Ivy twitched and pushed him away. "Stop!" she said, "I'm sensitive." She pushed her hands between her legs, and Sam sat back on his knees.

Ivy was in la-la land. She sprawled naked on his sofa with her legs apart and a little sheen of sweat on her smooth skin. She talked to the ceiling. "Damn you're a quick learner." She looked at Sam when he unbuckled his jeans. "Now you're the first guy to make me come."

She sat on the edge of the cushion while Sam pushed his pants down. Her phone was flashing. She picked it up and checked the message. "It's Peg." She shoved the phone away. "I don't need to talk to my roommate." She looked at Sam's cock. "You have a nice dick." Ivy paused with her fingers poised to touch it. "Can I?"

"Sure," Sam boosted himself up on the sofa next to Ivy and shoved his pants down. "I think you're the only girl that's asked first."

Ivy shrugged and carefully wrapped her hand around Sam's shaft. "It's just that my old boyfriend didn't like me looking at his." She stroked him, then opened her hand and held his cock so she could see the veins standing out along its length.

"He was self-conscious about his dick, and I never knew why. There wasn't anything wrong with it." She ran her finger over the smooth head and dabbed a clear drop off the tip before she looked up. "I want to watch you cum."

"You want me to jerk off for you? I can totally do that."

"Nah, I think I know how it works." Ivy shoved on Sam's knee. "Give me some room?"

Ivy got all the room she needed. She reached between Sam's thighs and lifted his balls. They were tucked up tight below his cock. She arranged herself on the sofa, laid her head on Sam's thigh, and got a close view while she stroked his cock. Ivy stretched the skin and watched the way it moved over Sam's hard flesh. She stroked her fingers over its smooth head and wrapped his shaft in her hand again.

Sam sat back and spread his arms on the back of the sofa. "Isn't this a great way to spend a hot Sunday afternoon?" Ivy glanced up with a smile, and Sam had to catch his breath. He dropped his head back, and a thrill shot through his cock and up his spine.

Ivy laughed and Sam asked, "Do you like doing that?"

"Love it." Ivy sat up and pushed her hair back behind her ears. She leaned over Sam's lap and put on a little show. She licked the length of his cock, opened her mouth, and closed her lips around his shaft.

The thrill made Sam groan. She sucked the head of his cock and her hand pumped his shaft. She took him deep over her tongue to the back of her mouth. Sam twitched and moaned. His breath came in gasps.

Ivy let his cock go with a little "pop!" and wrapped his spit-covered shaft in her hand again. She kissed his shoulder and his throat, and she laid her leg across his lap. Ivy squeezed her body against his, and she pumped Sam's slippery cock hard and fast.

Sam slammed his eyes shut and caught his breath, and he bellowed at the ceiling when his cream splattered across his belly and over her hand.

Ivy pumped him until she'd squeezed out his last drop, and then she wiped her hand on Sam's heaving chest and kept her lips close by his ear. "Did you come in colors?"

"Exploding colors," Sam said, and turned his head enough to grin at Ivy.

She pushed away and stood up in front of the sofa. "I need a drink. Your glasses are on the right? Do you want some too?"

"They're on the left." Sam took stock. He wasn't real thirsty, but he had cum on his belly and Ivy's pussy on his lips. "Sure. There's cold water in the fridge. Could you bring me the dish towel?"

Ivy set Sam's glass in front of him and tossed the towel she carried over her arm. She put her glass beside her phone, sat with Sam, and drank half the glass before she checked her message from Peg. Her eyes grew wide.

"Holy shit, Sam! I gotta go. Someone wrecked our apartment." She threw her phone in Sam's lap, found her blouse and pulled it on while Sam looked at the photo on her screen. "We don't keep the place real neat--at least I don't--but we don't keep the sofa cushions against the wall."

Sam dropped the phone beside Ivy. "Who's the old guy talking to the cop?"

"The super. He has cameras all over the place. We think he's a perv, but he probably has pictures." Ivy shoved Sam's knee. "Get dressed. You're my ride, remember? If I don't get there before the cops leave then I'll have to go to the station to give them a statement."

* * *

Sam looked up from the brace he set on a new wall and used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. A semi with a flatbed load of roof trusses rounded the corner into Westwind Ridge, and an old Subaru waited for it to pass. The truck rolled by, but the Subaru pulled up at the curb where the foreman was checking off a list with the building inspector.

He checked his watch. Lunch was still a half hour away. A wolf whistle made him look up again, and Ivy climbed out of the Subaru. She talked to the foreman who tucked the clipboard under his arm. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Albright! Take lunch. Your date is here."

Ivy was a little embarrassed when Sam reached her. She glanced over his shoulder at the hecklers. "Sorry I'm a little early. Are the guys always like that?"

"That's aimed more at me than you, and they aren't all guys." It was Wednesday. He hadn't seen Ivy since she kicked him out of her ransacked apartment on Sunday, but her texts told him that she felt the same way he did. Sunday ended too early.

Sam wrapped his hand around Ivy's arm and tugged. "Lunch is in my truck. What's going on?"

"They found Joe Caldwell. I thought you might want to know."

"What happened to Joe? I didn't know he was missing." Sam stopped Ivy by the truck and opened the door. "Leave the window open 'til the A/C kicks in."

Sam climbed in and started the truck, and Ivy handed him the lunch cooler that she picked up so she could sit down. She talked while Sam dug into it. "Joe going missing was part of my dead end on Sunday. Friday was the last time anyone saw him.

"I went to see his wife, and she kept talking about the 'ghosts.' He left to keep the 'ghosts' away. I thought she'd lost her marbles. He didn't come back, so she had the State Police check their cabin at Cave Springs. He's dead, Sam. They aren't saying yet what happened, but he's dead."

Sam looked up from his sandwich at the sign on the corner where Ivy turned in; it read, "Albright Homes at Westwind Ridge." He swallowed his bite. "Do you think Bailey Westwind had something to do with it?"

Ivy shrugged. "Who's Bailey Westwind? The company is mostly a bunch of rich investors. Joe fingered one of them--a guy in Ohio named Omar Wooten. He has a kinda shady attorney here named Darrel Halstadt. Joe thought they were under every rock and around every corner, but I can't prove anything."

She checked the air coming from the A/C vent and rolled her window up. "My first two articles were about risks and profits and the motivations for breaking rules. I mentioned Bailey Westwind in the second article. Maybe it's a coincidence, but that's when I started getting threats in my email. The police say those weren't credible, but that was before the apartment got broken into."

Sam swallowed the last of his sandwich. "Did you ever find anything missing, or did they mean to scare you?"

"Nothing stolen. If they were there to scare me, then they did a good job, but I think they were looking for my laptop. I said in my blog that I work on a laptop named Mr. Ticklish, so they could know about it, but I left Ticklish in Barb's back seat when we went to your party.

Sam opened his thermos and offered it to Ivy. "It's iced coffee." He waited for her to take it. "Did they ID the guys that broke in?"

Ivy swallowed and handed the thermos back. "They have pictures of two guys in dark hoodies and 'anonymous' masks. The cops thought that was a pretty distinct MO, but they don't know who they are."

"You have everything backed up, right? Like in the cloud or something?"

"Sure--stories, notes, pictures, videos, recordings--they're all in one folder and backed up in the cloud. But if someone got hold of Mr Ticklish or my phone, then they could get to my backups, too."

"Dad's pretty friendly with Bailey Westwind," Sam said. "But I don't know what's going on. My brother's the one who's into the business. It's not my thing." He packed the cooler behind Ivy's seat. "You're still writing, right?"

"The third article went up yesterday, but I have to redirect the fourth article to use what I already have from my interviews with Joe. I planned six articles--maybe more now--and that's kinda up in the air."

Sam glanced at his watch and then over his shoulder. "I have to get back to work. What are you gonna do?"

Ivy dropped back in her seat and waved her hand. "I have an appointment with a woman on the county planning commission. Rocky and I have a little extra time to get there."

"Rocky?" Sam asked. He locked the truck door behind him and met Ivy on her side.

Ivy waved her hand toward her old Subaru. "My car. His name is Rocket, but his friends call him Rocky."

Sam watched the old car without thinking about it. "Are you safe at your place?"

"I don't feel safe anywhere." Ivy talked with her hands while they walked back to Rocky. "I tried sleeping in the apartment Sunday, and Peg and I just stayed up and talked all night. I stayed with Barb on Monday, but she went to see her sister. Jason's at the apartment to make Peg feel better, so I went back there on Tuesday."

Ivy glanced at Sam. "Three's a crowd, and I kept thinking about you."

"Come stay with me," Sam said.

Ivy watched Sam for a moment while they walked. "That could be complicated. Besides, sleeping isn't my only problem. I watch the rearview mirror more than I watch the road. So far I don't think anyone's following me.

"Maybe Rocky's wearing a transmitter." Sam was half joking, but he realized from the look on Ivy's face that he shouldn't be joking.

"Oh fuck you, Sam! I wasn't worried enough already."

Sam was working things out in his head, so he didn't have more to say until they stopped by Ivy's car door. "I get off at three. Bring Mr. Ticklish to my place. We can back up your files offline, and I'll go over Rocky."

Ivy opened her door and turned around close to Sam. "The backup sounds good as long as I can still get to my files, but do you know what to look for?"

"Something that isn't a Subaru?" Sam laughed, but Ivy didn't think it was that funny. He stopped her from dropping into the driver's seat and glanced toward the foreman. "There's one thing about being the boss's kid. Hardly anything happens here that my folks don't find out about. The rumor mill is probably already working."

"Whatever," Ivy said. She pressed Sam back so she had room to slide behind the wheel. "I'll see you later--your place."

She did a U-turn from the curb and waved over her shoulder as she left. It was almost four when she pulled her car onto the driveway, and Sam directed her to stop beside Mrs. Cleveland's bungalow.

Ivy popped her door open. "I have another like, five hundred words before I'm done for the day. Do you mind if I sit here and work?"

"Go for it," Sam said. He slid under the front bumper and poked around in the grime. Sam could hear Ivy's keystrokes while he worked down the passenger side looking for anything odd or anything extra. He worked around the back and up the driver's side.

Ivy stopped typing when Sam looked up at her through her open door. "You type fast." He said. "Is the new article back on track?"

"It got easier when I made myself part of the story." Ivy watched Sam for a moment then closed her laptop and left it on the passenger seat. "I'm done for now. I'll edit later."

Sam slid under the car and talked from below Ivy's butt. "Give me a few more minutes. We can do the backup, and then I need to do something about dinner."

He sputtered at grit that fell in his face and went back to work--under the door, through the wheel well and back to the front bumper. Everything he saw and felt was Subaru, or maybe some bits of roadkill.

"Clean, I guess." Sam dragged himself from under the car and slapped dirt and dust off his jeans.

Ivy climbed out of her seat and laughed at the mud on his face, the grimy fingerprints on his shirt, and the sweat on his arms. "Maybe Rocky's clean, but you're a mess."

"I'll shower," Sam said. Ivy stepped close to brush some grit off his shoulder. "So what if it's complicated?" he asked. "Stay with me tonight. My schedule in the morning is early and tight, but..." His voice trailed off while he watched her reaction. She wasn't going to say no.

Ivy ducked into the car again and stood up with Mr. Ticklish and a bag she slung from her shoulder. "I'll take care of dinner--if you don't mind macaroni and hot dogs," She closed the door and locked the car.

Sam put his hand on Ivy's hip and nudged her toward the back house. "Is dinner all you have in that bag?"

"Change of clothes, my toothbrush--things like that," she said.

Sam left the bathroom a little neater than usual and sat down at the kitchen table with Mr. Ticklish while Ivy clattered in the kitchen. She left the pot of macaroni boiling on the stove and leaned over Sam's shoulder. "What are you doing with my files?"

"I'm not doing anything." Sam dug a flash drive out of his pocket and left it by the computer. "Nothing safe is going to be convenient. I want you to do it so you don't blame me."

Ivy sat down in the chair close by Sam's side, and he turned the laptop toward her. "Copy everything to the drive, then I'll lock it up here. If you want, I can upload the folder to my account, but you'd need my phone and my computer to get to them."

Ivy watched him through narrowed eyes then dragged her folder to the flash drive. "How am I supposed to update my files if they're locked up here?"

"You'll have to be here." Sam pulled the flash drive, led Ivy to his bedroom, and knelt by a black steel box under the edge of the bed. "Mrs. Cleveland has an old-fashioned idea of security. This is a gun safe, and it's bolted to the floor.

Sam touched a depression on the top of the safe. It popped open, and a jet black single-action pistol gleamed inside. He dropped the flash drive beside the gun then pulled Ivy closer.

Ivy pointed to the gun without touching it. "Do you know how to use that? Is it loaded?"

"Dad had me shooting as soon as I could hold a gun. Mom has a shelf full of shooting trophies, and some of those are mine." He flipped his hand toward the bedside table. "The magazine's in the drawer." Sam touched a button inside the box, and a light came on. "Put your finger here. It'll read your fingerprint, then you'll be able to open it yourself.