On The Beach

"Thank you." I did give them a smile that time, but they were mostly too baked to realize it as I mounted the steps. Why was I here, I asked myself. I certainly wasn't looking for love, and I figured if I wanted to get laid, there were probably less seedy choices among my phone contacts.

I paused at the top of the stairs, actually thinking about it, and decided I was probably here because Lia clearly didn't want me to be. And that was enough; she'd rubbed me the wrong way, even if the lifeguard wouldn't say the same.

The hall was nondescript, and as I moved past the bathroom I wondered what kinds of sins these walls and that carpet had witnessed over the years. I'd definitely come to a party here: the living room had been familiar, but it relieved me that I didn't recognize this hallway. Heavy bass thumped from some room down at the end. I stopped at a plain door with a brass number 7 on it, and wondered whether I should knock or simply try the door.

I knocked.

"Yeah?" The voice sounded the same as it had this morning: casual, even lazy, with an undertone of arrogance.

"It's me," I told the door, "Erika. From the summer service project on the beach this morning."

"I remember. It's unlocked." I took a deep breath and swung the door open, passing into a small room dominated by a queen bed in one corner and a big gaming setup in the other. That's where I saw Carter, his hair wet, in boxers and a t-shirt, his legs perched on the desk while his thumbs worked the handset. "Give me a second, Erika. I'll save the game and be right with you." He hadn't looked at me, so I took the chance to check out the room.

Tidy. Some family pictures on the bulletin board. A window with some greasy blinds drawn. Three or four phones, tablets, laptops, and other devices charging on the desk. Coffee maker. I caught sight of a book on the bedside table and was slightly impressed to find that it was Fear of Flying. "Good book," I observed, setting my bag down at the foot of the bed.

"It's okay." He did something with the console, then swung the big gaming chair around. He looked at me, finally, a level look as though he was still deciding whether he liked me. "I have issues with her prose, and honestly? I'm not sure what all the fuss is about."

"I'm not sure you're its demographic," I pointed out, taking a seat on his bed. "You need to think about it in terms of the time it was written."

"Well, then, my issues are with the time it was written." He shrugged. "She thinks about sex too much."

"There's nothing wrong with thinking about sex," I laughed. "I do it all the time."

"Me too," he allowed, cracking a smile, "but I don't write three hundred pages about it. I just do it." He glanced down at my bag. "What's that for?"

I arched an eyebrow. "I'm not staying over tonight?" I hoped I gave off a cool vibe, like an actress: unapproachable, but desirable. Then I remembered he'd seen me orgasm in the sand off a lifeguard's fingers, meaning I probably shouldn't be worrying about the impression I was giving him.

"You're more than welcome to," he yawned, "but it's just that I sleep nude. I kind of assume everyone does." He rose, his tall body unfolding from the chair, and stretched high enough that his fingertips brushed the ceiling. "You actually caught me just as I was thinking about crashing. It's been a busy day."

"Early morning," I agreed. Ellie and Gerald had had us out at the beach at eight. I hesitated, searching his face. "Am I auditioning here?"

"What do you mean?" He took his shirt off, tossing it into a half-empty hamper by the closet.

"For your little harem." I was still not sure I was into that, but I was curious. "Heidi. Lia. Those other two they were talking about this morning."

"Did you want to audition?" He dropped his boxers, and just like that he was naked again, quite casually. I'd seen him on the beach that morning, of course, but I hadn't been sure I was supposed to look; here? Now? I obviously was. "I wasn't thinking about that," he shrugged. His body had the same sleek, loose-limbed perfection he'd had that morning, in his board shorts, but now he smelled of shampoo and shaving cream, his penis soft above his hanging balls.

"What were you thinking about?" I was starting to get juicy. Hell, I'd started on the walk over here, probably. Suddenly my clothes felt scratchy.

"I was thinking about going to bed." There he stood, towering over me. "Join me."

"Sounds like a plan." I was paying attention, taking cues from him, shooting for his studied coolness, but he threw cold water on that immediately.

"Don't act, Erika." He smiled. "Just be yourself."

Be myself. Well. If I had been juicy before, that one made me flat-out gush. Second pair of panties wrecked in one day, I reflected, nodding as I turned my brain off. "Okay." I rose off the bed and moved aside so that he could turn the sheets down, admiring the motions of his body, the grace of his movements. The shape of his ass, come to that. I pushed my shorts and underwear down in one convulsive shove, stepping out into the center of the room as he laid down. "Not a very big bed," I noted, getting to work on my bra once my shirt joined my shorts.

"It's big enough. I like to snuggle." He was looking closely at my pussy. "You're wet, Erika."

"Yes, Carter, I am." I gnawed my lip as I got my tits out, standing there before him, like a defendant waiting for a verdict.

"I like that." He scooted toward the wall, leaving me space. "It's sexy."

"It's been a pretty sexy day," I reflected.

"Ever done anything like that before?"

"Beach cleanups?" I slid down sideways onto his mattress, feeling the heat from his naked body, my hand already tracing the curve of his hip, the smooth skin of his ribcage. He watched me react to him. "All the time."

"That's not what I mean." He lay calm, composed, enjoying my touch. No, not my touch: my adoration. "I mean getting fingerfucked by strangers in public."

"No, that's not a typical Sunday for me." I found I was holding my breath as I sent my hand along his chest, the backs of my fingers crossing his belly button before they found the coiled mat of his pubes, then the heat coming off the root of his dick. "I wasn't expecting a sleepover tonight, either," I went on, my touch descending the length of his soft shaft. I felt a surge of exultation when he twitched as I feathered my fingers across his head.

"Neither was I, honestly." He joined in now, his own hand big and strong on my shoulder, the fingers stroking there just a moment before they slid down the slope of my left tit, flicking my nipple at the end. "Until I saw you at the cleanup." My heart quickened: I always loved having my boobs played with.

I laughed in his face and cupped his balls. "That's a good line," I murmured. He was a solid weight in my hand, as though he'd been saving up his cum for days instead of blowing it all over Heidi's face that morning. "Did you use it on your date tonight? Megan the cheerleader?"

"Sadly, she was not worth the line." He smiled. "I like you better."

"Another good one, Captain Suave." I arched my back subtly, hoping he'd take the hint, and of course he did: a man this experienced knew how to pay attention to what his woman wanted, so I wasn't too surprised when he leaned toward me, his mouth replacing his fingers, tasting my breast. I sighed when his teeth grazed my nipple, realizing my fingers had gotten busy down along his dick without me even realizing it. "Lia says you have a famous penis, Carter."

"She tells me that, too," he chuckled, his breath tickling my skin. "She talks too much. It's tiring."

"Why do you keep her around?" He was sucking me now as my fingers coaxed him harder. I felt my body start to tingle.

"Because she gives amazing head," he said at once, glancing up from my chest, "and she's a real hit at parties."

"You like a woman who'll suck a good dick, huh?" My voice had gone low already, a bad sign: I usually liked these things to last longer. He was going to get me off in record time. I felt playful suddenly, even competitive, my foot sliding up his leg. "You like a dirty little cocksucker?"

"I like a dirty mouth, too," he murmured, crossing to my other nipple; I moved my body to give him more. His hand curled around to my ass, squeezing, sampling, judging. I had to stifle a groan as he gave a particularly strong, sudden suck, my nipple reaching far past his teeth. Fuck. Not only was he going to make me orgasm fast, he was going to make me do it hard too. His hand off my butt was a sudden relief, just a second before he spanked it, and that time? I didn't stop my moan.

"You picked the right girl to invite over, then," I purred, pushing him onto his back. I knew my thighs were already coated with my own superheated juices, and I felt the need to slow this down, to give him pleasure first. I swung my leg over his, arching down to grind my clit on his thigh a few times, so that he could feel my wetness. He raised his knee obligingly, and I drove back while I stooped to his ear. I loved pressing my tits against his skin. "I'm going to suck your gorgeous dick," I whispered, my clit pulsing, "and then I'm going to ride you."

"Not if I ride you first." Those big hands of his lay comfortably on my hips, creeping around to my butt as he relaxed against the pillow, his bold eyes on my face as I trailed my tongue down along his neck, then onto the muscled plain of his torso. His penis, a warm eager rod, trailed along my body as I lowered myself slowly down his flesh, over his nipple, my lips then trembling across the ridges of his abs until I crouched between his thighs at last.

It quivered before me, a hard eager tower of flesh and blood and cum, and I wasted no time wrapping my hands around it. I shook with lust, my face moving close to smell his balls, his pubes, for even after a shower there's just something about the smell of a guy's package. Clean sweat, skin, precum... it's all there, and I smiled as my lips parted to taste him.

He showed no emotion when I took him into my mouth, but his penis thickened on my tongue. So I didn't need him to show emotion. He hardened nicely, quickly, my lips sinking lower and lower on their journey down his shaft. When his head nudged against the back of my mouth, I began to swallow at once: I wanted to make this seamless for him, perfect, a slow even sink into my gullet. He passed into my throat just a bit, the tension growing and then easing again as I opened up, until he arched his hips a little and, just like that, I had taken him deep.

My nose grinding against his abs, I inhaled a raw, carnal breath of him while I flexed my throat to give him pleasure. I had to move my eyes to the limits to make contact with his, but once I had I saw appreciation there, at last, deepening to satisfaction as I held myself there... ten seconds. Fifteen. I did not budge, pulling shallow drafts of air into my nose, working my throat. Finally he nodded at me, smiling, and I backed up slowly, controlling my haste, letting him feel my tongue lash along the veiny bottom of his shaft as I rose. "Very good," he allowed, so I smiled around the smooth helmet at the top and promptly took him again, swallowing, for twenty seconds this time.

When I finally sat up, panting, his dick was a lewd, fearsome missile gleaming with my spit, the saliva rolling down over and around his hanging balls. I gasped, focusing, not seeing what I expected. But then I cocked my head, and there it was. "Ah."

His eyebrows rose. "Ah?" He'd laced his fingers behind his head, lying there as if sunbathing instead of getting a blowjob.

"The curve." I curled a finger around his head, pulling his penis level, only to see it catapult back up in a little droplet of spit when I released it. I giggled. "It curves toward your body."

"Yes." He seemed unimpressed. "Girls seem to enjoy it, as you heard this morning. Lia and Heidi like to talk about it." I played some more, bouncing his dick around before tipping my head sideways to suckle his scrotum. "I think it intrigued you."

I pulled on his balls like he'd pulled on my nipples, then let them pop out of my mouth. "It did," I admitted. "It intrigues me now, too."

"The curve is only part of it." He sent a languid hand down to flick my nipple. "The other part is watching my woman. Doing what she needs." His eyes took on a hardness now, penetrating me a little. "Want me to do what you need, Erika?"

"Yes I do, Carter." I knelt straight, letting him see how my tits sat on my chest, how my bush whispered out from between my thighs. "Please."

He relaxed another second or so, looking at me. "Remember, I like a dirty mouth, Erika."

My lips curled in a tight grin. "I want you to take your big fat cock and fuck my sloppy little slut pussy with it."

"How hard?" He did not move, except that his dick twitched. My mouth was dry, skin flushed with excitement.

I bowed my head. "As hard as you want, Carter."

For a moment more he lay there, but when he moved he moved fast. His lean body curled in a convulsive leap as he shoved me off my knees, then seized my legs and spread them roughly as he laid me on my back. I caught my breath, eyes wide, to look up at his cynical grin as he loomed above me. All he said was, "Okay," and then he seized his penis in his hand, angled it downward, and lowered his body to mine.

From the moment I felt his head kiss my slit, the fuck felt different, special, almost magical: it seemed like his dick was made just for me, shaped just perfectly to find the parts of me that needed to feel its touch. I felt a groan tear from my cock-hoarse throat as he pressed down, entering me, letting me feel his girth. "Yes," I croaked, his meat filling me, and when I felt his pubes meet mine I hoisted my legs high, giving myself to him completely. I felt a sting on my eye, the summer sweat falling from his forehead. "Fuck me like your bitch."

"Not like my bitch," he gloated quietly, letting me feel him wiggle his dick inside me, "tonight? You are my bitch."

I felt the breath leave my lungs, then, as he started to pump his hips. Right away I felt it, the way his curve dragged his head along my g-spot, probing the sensitive skin there, then probing it again and again as he set up his rhythm, deep-dicking me. I tried to arch up to him, to meet his thrusts amid the wet slap-slap noise he made as he plowed me, but it was no use: he was just too fast. There was no need, either, for Carter was as good as his word, focusing on me, paying attention to my needs, giving me what my pussy demanded.

"Oh fuck," I whimpered, for within just a few minutes I was losing it. The juicy swelling I'd felt in my vagina even before he'd stripped his clothes off, the excitement I'd felt as I'd humped his thigh, was all about to boil over with astonishing speed. He drilled me expertly, his face intent, and I could see (dimly, it's true) that he knew the exact moment when he brought me my orgasm.

It washed over me like that morning's ocean waves, consuming me, a thrilling red heat that made a mockery of what Brandon had done to me on the beach, as good as that had felt. I clung to him with my arms and legs, needy, my mind drug-high on the bliss this man was giving me. And still he gave more, fucking me through it, extending my joy, my cracked screamy voice finally giving up into a silent, wide-mouthed series of shallow pants as my hair spread across his pillow and I surrendered to his magnificent cock.

He wasn't done with me yet, though.

When he pulled out of me, he spoke with a little more urgency than he had all day. "On your knees, Erika," he ordered, and with my pussy still in an orgasmic twitch there was no way I could even think about disobeying him. I flailed myself over, gathering my legs beneath me, my lust in command as I arched high to give him my ass.

The bed creaked beneath us as he positioned himself, and then with another breathtaking sensation of completion he filled me once again, his dick battering into my still-twitching pussy, easing forward with his hands gripping my hips. He was fast again, certain, his thighs clapping against mine as he used my body to get himself off.

"Fuck me, dammit," I seethed, speaking to his pillow as he pummeled me. "Don't stop?"

"Why?" His lazy drawl shamed me, like I was nothing to him. "So you can cum again like a whiny little whore?"

"Yes!" I cried, for it was happening again, because he'd told me it could. He sawed into me, angling downward now, my tired legs struggling to hold myself up so that he could cum. My second orgasm was not as dramatic as that first one, more a long-lasting sense of sexual power that he gave me every time he plunged into my body. I lost track of time and thrusts and sensation, the two of us thrashing animalistically until, grunting low, he pinned me to the bed with a final, deep thrust and then pulled out to empty himself on my sweaty body.

It fell like warm, thick rain, splattering up along my spine in great gushing ropes from those potent balls of his, both of us moaning out our satisfaction. Shaking, my arms weak as a kitten's, I collapsed onto his sheets gasping as if I'd just run a race.

I lay there on my belly with his cum up my back, exultant, a delirious grin on my face while my lover rested on his elbow nearby. My eyes went lazily to a penis still hard, covered now with the froth of my body as evidence of how much he'd turned me on. "I'm glad we met," he told me quietly, his eyes intense, and I fought off a sudden urge to curl up in a little ball and melt into his arms. "Thank you."

"Thank me?" I felt incredulous. "You're the one with the magic dick."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Nah. That's just anatomy." He brushed my hair off my forehead and opened his mouth to say something, but that's when the door slipped open.

"Hey! Carter?" It was a woman's voice, and I froze. "How's my favorite..." The voice trailed off and I twisted around to see a gorgeous woman in a miniskirt that made her legs go on forever. "Oh! I didn't know you had company."

"Yeah. Jess? This is Erika. Erika, Jess."

"Hi, Erika." Her eyes swept my body, taking in my curves, the confusion on my face, the stripe of semen up my back. She smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you."

"I forgot you were coming over tonight." He said it with no more shame than if he'd been a car dealer who already sold a faulty Benz. He was looking at me as he said it, though. "Jess usually stays here on Sundays." I watched as the girl began to undress, making no bones about it. "You don't mind, I suppose."

I arched an eyebrow, my mind as crazed as it had been that morning with Brandon. "I'm not sleeping in the middle, though."

He laughed softly. "No. I don't suppose you are." Jess's pants came down, and I relaxed once I noticed I had a better ass.

"Good," I smiled softly, scooting over.