Little Waves

All we'd ever need.

* * *

Eva and her friends traveled back to New Bainbridge to visit other friends in the days before the Fourth. I agonized over those days. I thought she'd come to her senses. I thought I might be texting her too much. I thought I might not be texting her enough. I felt like a goddamn teenager again, and the truth is, I kind of loved it. I hadn't been so alive and invested in a relationship like that in years.

And I wrote. Man, did I write. Apart from when I first moved to the lake house, I was usually prolific even on my worst days, but Eva on my mind somehow propelled me to write thousands more words a day. If I could keep up even half this pace, I'd have the next two or three books in my professionally published series knocked out by that fall, freeing me up for the winter months to pursue my independent books. I'd been thinking about a pseudonym for straight-up erotica, which my agent salivated over. "In a few years," she told me, "We let slip it's your pseudonym and you'll have all your female readers lining up at the bookstore. Or... you know, buying it online."

I didn't know about that, but so far, her judgment led to me living in a dream house with a dream woman just a few houses away, so if she was excited, I figured it was a good idea.

The evening before the Fourth -- or the morning of, if you want to get technical -- writing kept me up until two in the morning and I wasn't expecting Eva and her friends until the next evening, so I was sprawled out in bed and snoring the morning away when I got a call. My phone was right beside me. I picked it up and slapped it against my face.

"Ullo?" I muttered.

"I expected a sexy morning voice. You sound like a bear, old man."

"I commit murders this early in the morning."

"Yeah, fair enough, me too. Sorry. But we found out late last night there's a parade and a bunch of fun stuff in Overlark this morning so we drove back early. Interested in being a girl's date?"

"A parade? Here?"

"I know, right? It has to be the world's smallest parade."

I sat upright. "The writer part of me has to see this. What time?"

She said half an hour, so I hurried through a shower, shaved, and threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a camp shirt over a tight black When Rivers Meet shirt. While I was tying up my sneakers, there came a soft knock at my lakeside door. Eva and Cheyenne stood there, Eva with a paper coffee cup in hand.

"I figured you probably didn't have time," she said, holding the coffee out.

"Oh, you are amazing," I said, and took the cup in hand. The other I brought to her cheek, then the back of her head. I leaned in to kiss her gently, her eyes closing, me unable to stop staring like some creeper. When I pulled back, I murmured, "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"What about me?" Cheyenne pouted. "Am I not missed too?"

I laughed. "Oh, of course."

"Do I get a kiss too, then?"

"One woman man, unfortunately, but you're going to break someone's heart."

Eva looked pleased at that. I finished my coffee, grabbed my keys and wallet, and we were off to visit the great and fabled Overlark, population five-hundred fifty-three. I wouldn't normally bring up a town's population in a story like this, except you have to understand how small that town was to get a grasp on how silly and fun their tiny parade was.

We joined up with their roommates and their assorted boyfriends and girlfriends at the biggest diner, which also served as the general parking lot for most the town's functions. Kids were selling lemonade, bottled water, and homemade granola bars at a table across the street, so me being the big spender I am, I bought us an assortment of drinks and granola bars while the two boys told us all about the super cool cars that would be in the parade.

The roommates were an eclectic mix. I knew they were all beautiful from the pictures online, but there's a difference between meeting them in person and seeing pictures, and in their case, reality was far tastier. For example, Lucia was the fullest-bodied of the girls, and the youngest though only by months. She carried her extra weight with a joyous bounce to her step and an easy smile on her face. You could see a hint of that in the short videos she posted online, but you couldn't grasp what a free spirit she was or how infectious that smile could be.

Then there was Becky, gorgeous, bouncing-out-of-her-tops-every-five-seconds Becky, she of the blonde silky hair, big artificial lips, and a body a plastic surgeon must have been paid a fortune to create. She was the one most guys that summer hounded after, especially given her love of denim cutoffs that showed off plenty of her ass cheeks. A stunner online in her posts on Bottlegenie, to be sure, and with a following that would mean she would never hurt for money. But what I came to remember most about Becky was her sitting down on the dock or on a patio chair, nose buried in a book, or consoling another roommate in the aftermath of finding out a beloved aunt had cancer.

All of them cared deeply about each other like that. I assumed before that summer the camgirl and model lifestyle involved a lot of cattiness and backhanded compliments, but those young women were like sisters. They learned about their business together, came up through their earliest years supporting each other, and genuinely loved when one of them made huge gains with a post or a video. Were there little fights? Of course there were. Anyone that close would have them. But they always came back together, usually with Cheyenne, who really was their mother hen, pulling their metaphorical noses and making them sit down together to work things out.

I started the process of getting to know them that day, and in turn, they grilled me. Though Eva was the oldest, they acted like the protective older siblings. I understood. Eva was often the quietest, save maybe Becky on a few occasions, and sometimes seemed younger than the others in her sweetness and compassion. Not necessarily naivete, but a softness of character I loved, and so did her friends.

Eva watched my interactions with her friends with amusement. When the parade started, I went to her, gave her cheek a long, lingering kiss, and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Tell me if it's too much," I murmured.

"No. I mean, yes, I will. But this... I like this."

The parade was led by a deputy in an SUV and a fire truck merrily blasting everyone away with their sirens. Back in Pike Bridge and really most the small towns around the state, it was common for the vehicles in a parade to throw out candy or cheap toys to onlookers, and Overlark was no different. Cheyenne, Eva, and the rest were showered with candy and attention, from whistles to cheers and everything in between. I laughed to see it, and Eva did too. She bounded out there with the rest of them, collecting it and giving most her shares to the kids from the lemonade stand and a few families around us.

Besides the police, the horse ranch where Cheyenne worked entered three braying mules decked out in red, white, and blue. Cheyenne went wild for them and the horse team that followed from another ranch. The cars the lemonade boys were looking forward to traveled in a pack. I watched an old 1970 Camaro with nearly as much attention as I was giving Eva. Floats were pretty non-existent, save for a group of kids and teens advertising a bunch of different sports programs and extracurriculars on the back of a semi truck's trailer.

When the parade was near its end, I slipped behind Eva and wrapped my arms around her waist. She smiled and leaned back against me. We rocked together to the sound of someone playing Lizzo from their car stereo. She was so warm against me, so soft, so goddamn beautiful, and I couldn't help but explore her neck with my lips.

I wanted to tell Eva so many things, that I couldn't let her go after the few weeks she would be there. Less than that now, just a little over two left. I wanted to tell her I thought I was falling in love with her, even if that was insane just after a few days of getting to know her as an adult. But her words about wanting to go slow soothed me, and I let myself live in the moment for a change, not jumping ahead but loving the feel of her, the smell of her, the way she moved with me.

We headed inside the diner along with a wash of other people. Space was tight but none of us minded. Over platters, eggs, bacon, sausage and mountains of hashbrowns, the herd of us must have come close to cleaning the place out. Eva snatched the last half of a piece of bacon from my plate, drawing my mock ire and my hand to rove under the table, making her yelp when I pinched her thigh. She ate the bacon and stuck her tongue out at me.

To her boyfriend, Lucia said, "They're still in that phase where he doesn't realize his food is her food now."

"Damn straight," Eva said, and a piece of my toast disappeared too.

There were more communal activities throughout the day, and since Eva and I didn't have anything else planned until that evening, we made a day of it. I was something of a curiosity in Overlark, not quite famous, but close enough that I was introduced by locals to others as the "writer I was telling you about." A lot of people gave me grief about buying their dream home, most of which was good-natured, some of which was very much not.

But it was Eva, Cheyenne, and the others who got the bulk of the attention. They were propositioned at every turn, got dirty looks from plenty of wives and girlfriends, and in general were the sort of summertime treat I slowly forgot existed after I graduated college, easy on the eyes and carefree.

It was a good day. Cheyenne and one of the boyfriends took second in a horseshoe tournament and I won a new cooler as a door prize at a bake sale. We decided that was a sign, and bought some ice, beer, and everything we'd need to make a bevy of cocktails before heading back to Cheyenne's. We planned to barbeque at my place that evening, but her house was more set up for a party, so that's what we did, dancing and drinking and laughing the afternoon away.

Never too far from me was my Eva. We danced and danced and danced. I felt like a fool compared to how she and her friends swayed, but all of us men were, at best, accessories to the gorgeous women we were with. A thunderstorm rolled through along with a fresh deluge of rain, but we barely noticed, lost in one of the best parties I'd ever been to.

Eventually I had to sit, and Eva dropped with me, knees on either side of my lap, kissing me with eager hunger. She had a couple drinks by then, but they were spaced out and she was a long distance from being drunk. If I thought she was, I would have put a gentle stop to her explorations, but she wasn't faltering or slurring her speech or any of it. So I let her play, tugging my camp shirt off my undershirt and exploring my muscles as my own hands went to her ass and her lower back.

All around us the party surged, but Cheyenne dropped onto the couch with us, one knee drawn up under her. She watched us with cool intensity as Eva pushed back far enough to unbutton my shorts.

"Eva," I moaned.

"I'm clean," she said. "And I'm on the shot."

All my thoughts about taking her to bed and making love to her alone ended when she pulled me out of my shorts. Cheyenne's eyes widened, and Eva looked pleased. She brought my hands to her chest, and now the attention was on us, though not as intently as you might think. I noticed things then, things I guess had been at the periphery. Lucia, grinding back at her man with an intensity that could only be dry-fucking. Becky and another roommate had handfuls of breasts and ass and were slowly making their way back to an armchair in the corner.

This party was about to become an orgy.

Eva spat into her hands and gripped me with both, stroking me as she tossed her hair back. Cheyenne slid off the couch and stood behind her, undoing the buttons on Eva's shirt with practiced ease, even without seeing what she was doing.

"We are wild," she told me over the top of Eva's head. "But if this is too much..."

"I want you," I said to Eva. "I'm falling so goddamn hard for you. Whatever you want. This. A room where it's just the two of us. I'd give you anything."

Her lips parted, and she leaned in to kiss me. I held her like that, even when her blouse fell to either side of her shoulders and her breasts were bared to me in her lacy white bra. I cupped her face and kissed her again and again, and Eva whispered in my ear, "I'm falling so hard for you too."

Then she was up, and dropping her shorts. I jerked my own down to my knees and before she even had her panties off, she was on me again, and dropping onto my achingly hard cock. She took inch after inch of me almost all at once, thighs rippling as she slapped down at me. I gripped her waist and started to thrust up at her. This was crazy. I'd never fucked anyone in front of an audience before.

She leaned in and nibbled on my earlobe as Cheyenne was dropping her own shorts, her hand sliding into a wispy pink thong. "This is my sexy secret. I love to show off," Eva whispered. "I love being seen. Is that okay, is that too much...?"

For an answer, I took her in my arms and stood up with her. Now that got some cheers, and Cheyenne gasped, "Oh fuck," as I whirled with Eva still impaled on my cock and set her down on her back on the couch cushion, her ass hanging off the edge, her whole weight balanced on her shoulders. I thrust into her with savage, hard strokes, stopping only to yank off my tee shirt and toss it on the floor near our other clothes. Her panties were getting in the way so I gripped those and ripped them too, wondering who this guy was. I was not the sort to fuck in front of a group of people. I was not the sort to rip off women's panties. I wrote about that stuff, sure, but this was not me.

Except it was, and maybe I had just never realized it, or had a partner who brought it out in me. Whatever it was, I went at Eva like a beast, fucking her, making her cry out.

All around us were fuck noises, people moaning, people gasping, wet slick fingers sliding into pussies, the squicks of dicks being jerked. But I was owned by Eva, consumed by her. I didn't know what had happened to the shy young woman who was trying to feel things out but this was her too, wild, free, uncaged, and I loved her just as much for it as the sweet timid woman I sat next to on the docks.

I twisted with her until we were both on the couch, me still above her, Eva with a foot on the ground, head twisting, mouth open but no sounds escaping her. For long minutes I thrust into her, hands everywhere, under her ass, her hips, her breasts. When I caressed her mound, her eyes closed so hard I thought she was in pain, but then finally she yelled, "Oh, oh God, Alex, Aleeeeex!"

"Come for him," Cheyenne gasped beside us. She had three fingers deep in her cunt and her hand moved with a furious pace. "Oh Eva, he's so big inside you."

Eva's pussy walls, tight and warm and wet, pulsed around me, begging me for my come. I was close but I wasn't there yet, and kept going. She looked up at me with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, her lips still parted. I slowed only to kiss her, and she stammered against me, "Oh, ahhhh, ah ah, f-f-fuck..." Her eyes widened. "I... I'm sorry, I get vocal, I..."

"I love it, baby," I said. "Swear all you want. Be you, Eva. Always be you."

She lunged up at me, kissing me hard, a couple tears streaming down her face. Tears of pleasure, tears of letting go of fears. We were going to be in that shy lovers' stage for a while to come, even after that, but this was a first step.

"F-fuck me, then, Alex, fuck me, please, oh God..."

"Is it what you wanted?" Cheyenne asked. She stood beside me, her bra's cups tugged down her big breasts. Her fingers made wet slick sounds as she watched the show in front of her play out.

"So much better than I... I... h-hoped for..."

Cheyenne reached a hand out towards her friend. Eva didn't see the gesture, but I did. I gave Cheyenne a sidelong look, confused, unsure in that moment what I was seeing. She pulled her hand back fast, blushing hard and not meeting my eyes.

I couldn't ponder it long. I was too swept up in Eva. People around us were either in the throes of it themselves or sneaking away to bedrooms. Lucia and Becky were on their knees, Lucia sucking her man with frantic bobs of her head, Becky on the armchair, head bent low, gripping the back of the material as she thrust backward, head twisted to one side as her girlfriend ate her out. Lucia's man jerked back and she wrapped her hands around his cock, jacking him fast until he came all over her gorgeous face. Someone cried out deeper in the house.

"He's the man you needed," Cheyenne cooed to Eva.

"Needed," Eva agreed feverishly. "Oh, Oh Alex, I need you, I need you..."

"I'm yours, you have to know I'm yours, oh fuck, Eva, I... I'm close..."

"Inside me, it's okay, it's okay..."

"Eva... ahhhh, there, right..." I gritted my teeth and drove deep. My come rocketed out of me as I bucked instinctively. I couldn't take another moment without those lips against mine again, so even as I was finishing, I dropped to kiss her, to cup her chin and stroke her face.

And to whisper to her. "I meant it, I'm yours, I'm yours, Eva."

"Alex, my Alex," she said, and kissed me just as fervently.

* * *

The fireworks were beautiful, but the real sight were the tanned bodies in bikinis on blankets and beach towels on the lakeshore watching the show. Eva leaned against me. She hadn't gone far from me the entire afternoon, her quiet happiness a mirror to my own soul.

We necked some there under the glittering displays and big booms, my hand sliding under her bikini top to caress her big breast and tease her nipple. She slid over between my legs, and like that, my other hand had access to her bikini bottoms. With only electric lanterns and the fireworks casting light, no one beyond our immediate circle of friends could see us, and we took full advantage of it.

"Mm, again?" Cheyenne said somewhere off to our left. I chuckled and Eva gave a soft, throaty, "Uh huh..." as she ground back against my stiffening cock.

My fingers slid across Eva's entrance, teasing her with strokes timed to the fireworks. When a big boom would go off, I'd rub her clit, fast and hard. When it was the smaller pops high in the air, I'd rub her pussy lips. Like that, soon she was wet and ready for me.

I pulled away from her as the show started to build to its ending crescendo. With Eva on her knees on the beach blanket, I looked around again and plunged into her. She cried out, but on the lake the sound was masked by music and cheering. I pumped into her fast and hard, making her spill forward and nearly press her face to the blanket.

I rose to one knee and plunged into her even harder and faster, my pace manic, my need roaring inside me. Having her friends and the men they were with watch us turned me on. I felt savagely alive, showing off for them, and in a way, I was showing Eva off too. She was so wild for me, thrusting back at my cock and twisting her head side to side as she moaned my name over and over again.

In the darkness beside us were glittering eyes. Cheyenne looked like she might try to join in, and in that moment, I wouldn't have denied her. But no, she was fingering herself again, watching us, panting hard. I realized some of it was words I don't think she was aware of speaking.

"...fuck her... take her hard... oh fuck... oh... Eva... Eva..."

It spurred me on. I gripped Eva's shoulder to hold her in place as I drilled her pussy, my lips drawn back, my rhythm and timing lost. Above us, the last blast of fireworks played itself out in an awe-inspiring show of sound and light, and I pulled out just long enough to flip Eva over so she could see it.