No Tan Lines

"Ohhhhh, Jenny," and he did, and parting my lips wide, my mouth sealed to his, I gave him everything he wanted in that moment.

"I'm not a boy, Jenny," he gasped, long minutes of endless surrender later, and we were both breathing hard. Both panting for breath and he was steely hard against me, both his hands on my butt now, hard and demanding, every wave that 'No Tan Line's hull bounced slightly on moving me against him.

"I know," I moaned, clinging to him. "I know you're not, Dave, and I'm not teasing you. I'm not."

"I know you're not, Jenny," he groaned, his hands gently kneading my butt, fingers digging into me, pulling me hard against him, and I was so wet I was sure my bikini must be soaked through. "I know you're not teasing me, but do you know what you're doing to me."

"I don't want to tease you," I gasped, between increasingly frantic kisses, and I was squirming against him now as his fingers alternately caressed me and dug into me, and I was wet. So wet and hot and I knew what he'd want.

"I'm not teasing you." I knew what I wanted too, now, and I reached behind my back with one hand and unfastened by bikini top, jerked it off and dropped it on the deck, my now uncovered boobs pressed against his chest, delicious skin, hard muscles, exquisite friction where my aching nipples pressed against him and I'd never felt anything so good, and I wanted to meld myself to him.

"Oh God, Jenny," he groaned. "Don't... don't," but one hand was sliding up to my back and where my boobs had pressed against him, now they were crushed, and it was so good. So good, and when I moved against him and my nipples dragged across his skin, it was exquisite, buckling my knees so that I clung helplessly to him, and his kisses were hungry, a hunger I wanted to feed until it consumed me.

"Yes," I gasped, as he held me close, as he kissed me, and I opened my mouth wide to him, my tongue dancing with his as he tasted me, and I'd never felt this close to anyone in my life, and why him? I'd just met him, and he wasn't anything like my old boyfriend. He wasn't my own age, he wasn't anything like anyone I'd ever imagined being with, but I wanted him. I wanted him to hold me, I wanted him to love me. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted him to... I wasn't sure what I wanted, but in a way I was, and my arms vined around his neck, and I pressed myself against him and moaned, softly, wordlessly, and I wanted to be everything to him, and I wanted him to be everything to me.

His lips lifted from mine, his eyes looked into mine, drilled into mine, and his voice was hoarse. "What do you want, Jenny? I'm too old to be a quick fling for a High School student. You're attractive, you really are, but I'm not going to use you for a quick thrill, and then say goodbye. I didn't ask you here for that."

I looked back at him, and I thought about that. What did I want? Did I want him for a quick fling, but I knew the answer to that already, and I didn't want to be a quick thrill for him either. I just wasn't that kind of girl, and I knew that too, and my old boyfriend, he'd found that out, and I sort of half-thought he'd been going to dump me anyhow, but then I'd gone into hospital, and it hadn't taken him that long to find a replacement. He hadn't dumped me, either. He'd just tailed away on the visits, and in the end I hadn't missed him, so it wasn't like he'd broken my heart. I just hadn't cared, in the end.

Bur Dave? He wasn't like that. Not to me. Not now, and I had no idea why he meant so much to me when I'd only known him a few days, but I knew what he wasn't.

"You're not a quick fling for me, Dave," I said, serious now, and I wasn't even embarrassed that my boobs were pressed against his chest, and that all I was wearing was that tiny little bikini bottom. "You're not a fling at all. You're much more than that."

I knew it was true as soon as the words left my mouth.

He was. He was much more than a fling.

"I think we should talk more," he said, his nose brushing mine. "Seriously, before we do anything else. Things just got really out of control, and I didn't offer to look after you to take advantage of you...."

But he didn't let go of me either, and I liked his hands on me, and my boobs pressed to his chest.

"I know you didn't, and you're not," I said, my nose brushing his, and I wanted to taste his lips on mine. I wanted his tongue in my mouth, I wanted him kissing me again the way he just had. I knew what I wanted, and it was him.

"We need to talk, Jenny." He just about groaned, and he still hadn't let me go. My boobs pressed against his chest and he shuddered, and I kissed him again, and he kissed me back, and this time our kiss was long and slow, and his hands moved on my back, stroking across my skin, again and again.

"You're just a girl," he said at last, breaking off that kiss, his voice hoarse. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, Jenny."

"I do," I said, and he was so hard where he pressed against me, and I closed my eyes for a second, just absorbing that sensation of my boobs against his chest, my body against his, skin against skin, his hardness pressing against my stomach, and he was big. My boyfriend, I'd felt him when he was excited, and Dave was bigger, and those little ripples inside me grew.

"We should talk," he said again, and I realized neither of us had moved for a while, and I had no idea how long we'd been like this, except that it wasn't long enough.

"Yes," I said, except it was more of a gasp. "Let's talk. Why don't you put her on cruise control or whatever it is, and we can sit up front."

He looked at me, and without a word he reached past me, keying in stuff on the autopilot thingie, slowing 'No Tan Lines' down so she came down of her plane, and we weren't idling through the water, but we weren't going that fast either.

"Come," I said, tugging at his hand, leading him around to the sunpad where we'd slept the night. Standing there, looking at him for a long moment, tall and scarred, his skin tanned by the sun, and I knew what had given him all those scars now, and I wanted to hold him the way he'd held me when I cried.

I turned, sat down on the sunpad, looking up at him and yeah, he was still big and hard and I knew what I wanted to do for him, but he needed to talk, to think this through, and I did to, because he was way older than me. Twelve years older, and he was so much more mature than me, and that age gap made no difference to me, except that he was worried about it, and I wasn't., because I knew.

"Here," I said, patting the sunpad beside me as I moved to the far side, and I slid down to lie there, and I smiled as he slid down to lie on his side, and we were facing each other, and I was thinking. Thinking hard. What did I want? What did I see in him? How come I found him so attractive, when he wasn't anything like close to my age? Twelve years older than me. I knew that, but I liked that in him. I liked everything about him.

Liked?

"Dave." I hesitated, and I wanted him to hold me, and when he slid an arm under my shoulders, I smiled and nestled in against him, and I liked looking up at him. I liked feeling how hard he was against my thigh. I liked it when I reached out with my hand and took his and placed it on my stomach, my hand on top of his, and his hand stayed where I placed it, and inside, I danced with happiness.

"Dave, I really... I like you, Dave... it's... it's more than like you. When I woke up this morning, and you were there, holding me, I was so happy... I knew, I just knew..." I didn't really know what I was saying. The emotions, the feelings, they were just coming out any which way, without any thought, because my thoughts were so confused. "That was where I was meant to be," I blurted out. "That's what it felt like." I looked at him, one hand stroking down his arm. "That's what it feels like."

I took a breath, and my eyes didn't leave his. "That's what it is."

"You're so beautiful, Jenny," he breathed, his hand sliding out from under mine and my heart pounded as I waited for his hand on my boobs, but it didn't arrive. Instead, his fingers reached for my face, tracing down my jawline, brushing my cheek, again, gently. So gently. "I could fall in love with you so easily, Jenny..."

"I'm going to be here until August," I said, and that was an eternity. Seven, no, eight months, and the Doctor had said relax, recover, take it easy, go back to High School in September.

I'd only meant to come down here for winter, maybe even just for Christmas, and then I'd planned to go home in Spring, despite what Mom and Auntie Suzy had talked about, but now? I was really enjoying this time with him, and had it only been four days since I met him outside the Marina fence? That was all? It seemed as if I'd known him half my life, and I knew I could happily stay here all winter. Stay here through Spring and Summer. Stay here until summer ended, if it was with him, and it was almost Christmas now. Eight months. I knew that was my decision, how long to stay here for, and I knew I'd already made that decision.

If he wanted me, and I hoped so much that he did. That he would. I'd stay, and I wondered if he'd meant what he'd said, about staying on his boat. Somehow, I didn't think he'd meant stay for eight months.

"When we kissed," he said. "It was like I'd never kissed a girl before, and you were the first, and it was magical, it was.... I don't know, I just don't have the words, but I'm already falling for you, Jenny, and I'm scared." He hesitated, and I waited, head nestled against his shoulder, his arm around me, reaching out with one hand to stroke his arm, stroke those muscles, and he was so tense.

"I'm scared that you're only eighteen, and I'm thirty, and I'll fall for you and you'll go, and I'll never see you again. I'm scared that I'll take advantage of your innocence, and in years to come, you'll think I was using you, and I don't want that either, Jenny." His fingers brushed my cheek. "There was something about you, when we met. I looked at you, and I saw someone I wanted to care for. It was your face, you looked so sad, so alone, and I wanted to hold you and take that sadness away..."

"Shhhh." My finger rested on his lips. "I know you care for me, Dave. You wouldn't have looked after me the way you did if you didn't. I know you care, and I know you don't want to take advantage of me, and I know that compared to you, I don't know anything much."

I smiled. "But I know I like you a lot, Dave, and I know we've just met, and I know I'm eighteen, but I'm not a kid. I'm scared too, Dave. I've never felt like I do about you with anyone else, and it's really strange for me. I know you're older, a lot older, and I know we've just met, and this is crazy to feel like this about someone I've only known for a few days, but honestly, that doesn't matter, that's just who you are and that's one of the things I like about you, your age, and your experience, and you've been places and done things, and more than anything, you really care for me, and I know I already care for you." My fingers traced down a long scar on his arm.

His mouth opened, and "Shhhh," I smiled, my finger caressing his lips. "Let me finish, Dave," I said. "I'm thinking out loud here, and I don't know what I'm trying to say. I'm trying to figure this out."

My nose brushed his. "Maybe it is just a summer romance. I have to go home and finish High School, I have to finish twelfth grade before I do anything else, but here and now, you and me, it feels so right for me, Dave. I don't want to hurt you, but I want this. I want you and me, now, and I'm here for eight months, Dave, until the end of summer, and maybe it will turn into something else, and maybe it won't, but if we don't try it, how will either of us know?"

He watched me as I thought about what I'd just said. "Holy crap, did I just say all that?"

"Yeah, you did," and he looked so serious. "So let me make sure I've got this straight. You like me, and I like you a lot, Jenny. I could fall in love with you in a second if I let myself."

"So could I, with you," I said, and my heart pounded, because as I said those words, I knew it was true. "I could fall in love with you so easily." But no, that wasn't the entire truth. "I know it sounds silly, Dave, but I think I've already fallen in love with you."

It was true, I knew that as soon as the words left my mouth. I didn't think I had. I had, I knew, and my fingers slid upwards to cup one side of his face. "I love you, Dave. I'm not too young to know I'm in love with you," I added. "And maybe it will hurt. Maybe it'll hurt when I have to go home, but if you love me too, maybe, just maybe, something will come of it, and isn't that a risk worth taking, Dave?"

I smiled. "What's that thing they tell you in the Army?"

"Navy," he said.

"No pain, no gain," I said, not smiling. "Am I worth that risk, Dave? You're worth that to me, and I know what pain is, Dave. I really do."

"I know you do, Jenny," he said, very gently, and there was a long moment where he looked at me.

"Yes," he said, very simply. "Yes, you are worth that risk, Jenny," and we simply looked at each other.

I drank in his face, his expression, his short, dark brown, hair, the shadowy fuzz across his face, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way his lips quirked into a half-smile.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Jenny?" he asked, his fingers continuing to caress my face.

"Yes," I said, knowing that I did want this. Knowing I was sure, and my hand found his fingers, and held them, and raised them to my lips, and I kissed them, each one of them. "Am I what you want?"

"Yes," he said. "I want you, Jenny Dao," and now he was smiling, and there was a second sun in my sky. A sun called Dave, and his love shone down on me and warmed me, and I embraced and welcomed that love as a flower welcomes the sun.

"There's something else I want," I breathed, smiling now, because there was, and now that I knew how he felt about me, and I'd been honest with myself over how I felt about him, this was something I really wanted to do. "Right now," I added.

"What's that?" he asked, and now his hand was stroking my arm, gently, up and down, and his caresses were covering me in little goose pimples.

"I want to hold you," I breathed, heart pounding again, one hand sliding down between us and grasping him through his shorts, and I'd held my old boyfriend like this, back before. I'd jerked him off. Half a dozen times, and there'd been that one blowjob I gave him, the weekend before I went into hospital.

I wanted to hold Dave. I wanted him in my hand, big and hard and male. I wanted to explore him and stroke him, and my mouth filled with saliva at the thought of what he'd be like, in my mouth. There was that hot excitement butterflying inside me at that thought, and about what else might happen after that, because Dave wasn't a guy my own age. He wasn't a boy. He wasn't a boyfriend. He was a man.

"I don't want to tease you," I gasped, kissing his neck, nibbling on his ear, moving my hand on him through that thin nylon, excited beyond any words at his sudden shuddering tenseness as my hand moved on him. "But I don't know very much, you're going to have to teach me."

"You're adorable, Jenny," he said, and I smiled as he looked down at my boobs, and my nipples ached, and then they didn't as his hand cupped one boob, his touch hot against my skin.

"Ohhhhh," I half-moaned, arching my back, pushing my boob at his hand and then I wasn't moaning anymore as his mouth sought and found mine, and we were kissing, on and on, and my hand held him through that thin nylon, rigid, steely hard under my fingers.

His tongue danced with mine, his lips sealed themselves to mine, his hand cupped my boob, his thumb brushed backwards and forwards across one swollen rubbery-hard nipple, every touch sending an exquisite ripple shuddering through me to pool at my center, hot liquid excitement that sucked all the strength from me as I lay before him.

"I want to hold you," I moaned. "Really hold you," when at last his mouth lifted from mine and we were both breathing hard, my hand fumbling at the string tie, struggling to reach inside his shorts and clasp him.

He said nothing, but his hand joined mine, unfastening his shorts, pushing them down, kicking them off, and he was naked, and I held him at last. My fingers clasped him, rigid steel covered with soft velvet, hot silky skin, ridged veins, and I stroked him, very slowly, savoring the feel of him in my hand. He was big, bigger than my old boyfriend. Long, hard, thick, filling my clasp and I tried to encircle him with my thumb and fingers, but his girth was too much, and inside, my sex danced with scared anticipation and excitement, because I knew I'd give him everything he desired, and he was a man. I knew what he'd desire.

"I want to look at you," I gasped, half rolling towards him, and he smiled, easing over onto his back, his cock held in my hand as I propped myself up on one elbow beside him, and I looked. I'd never actually seen a guy's cock before. That old boyfriend, I'd jerked him off in his car, at his house with the lights out. I'd given him a blowjob, once, in the darkness of the night, and I'd seen it, but only dimly.

This was daylight. Bright sunlit day, and now I was face to face with his cock, and he was lying back, smiling, watching me, and I moved my head back so I could see him clearly. The sheer physical dimensions of his cock stunned me. And okay, my experience was limited to one, I knew. This, right in front of my face, inches from my eyes, this was different. A lot different. It was so big and so hard looking. The swollen head and glans startled me for a moment, until I compared what I was seeing with those diagrams in that book my Mom had embarrassed me with when I was younger, and let's not even talk about the sheer embarrassment of those High School classes.

If his cock had surprised me, his testicles startled me. Well, okay, balls. I knew they existed, but the diagrams and line drawings didn't do justice to the sheer functional beauty and size of them as they lay there before my fascinated eyes. Large and round and hairy, and all that body hair was fascinating. I didn't have any. Well, I did have a very little, but I'd always, you know, shaved myself everywhere, ever since it first started growing, and I never did have very much.

My Dad didn't either, and I'd seen my Dad naked when I was younger, but Dave, it wasn't just a thick bush of hair around his cock. His legs, his arms, his stomach, chest, back, shoulders, everywhere. He was so hairy everywhere. Almost furry. Furry and so strong and muscular. Gloriously muscular, and I loved that, and I wanted to touch him, so I did, running my hands ran up the outsides of his thighs, feeling that soft body hair under my fingers, feeling the muscles of his thighs. His cock jerked, right in front of my face, all by itself, and startled, I glanced up at him.

He smiled, reaching down with one hand to brush my hair back from my face, and I smiled back, running my fingernails up the inside of one of his thighs, smiling, pleased with myself as his cock twitched again, and I wanted to taste him so much. Not just taste him. I wanted his cock in my mouth. I wanted to do that for him, and I wanted to do that for me, and when I glanced back up, he was breathing hard, and I smiled.

I smiled, and then I lowered my head and I kissed the tip of his cock, and then, very tentatively, my eyes watching his face, I licked him, slowly, all over, and my hand held him upright while my tongue explored, and my lips brushed, and I tasted him.

"Jenny." He groaned, his hand clutched at my hair. His cock jerked upwards, pushing up against my lips and without thought my free hand moved up from his balls and clasped him, my fingers wrapped themselves partially around him, and I parted my lips, wide, and slid them down over his cockhead, then down his shaft until he filled my mouth.