Red Clay Summer

Maybe she was actually headed to the Front Desk, she thought hazily, as her body felt like it was operating with a dissonance among its parts. She then found out, as she walked past the entrance, that no, she wouldn't be doing that. She kept going straight and made a left.

The storage room was a windowless wooden cabin on the side of a gravel walkway, located between the Front Desk building and a small orchard strewn with stray tennis balls. Bianca had only ever walked past it. She stood in front of the door for a long moment, half-wishing to be interrupted by passersby. Her heart thumping like tribal drums in her chest.

She knocked softly with her middle finger. The floorboards creaked loudly under the footsteps inside. The door opened and Bianca disappeared through it just as someone turned the corner into the gravel walkway. The passerby she had wished for, one second too late.

Declan closed the door behind her. The room, small, cramped and lined by piles of sports equipment on every wall, was lit only by an energy-smart white light on the ceiling. To the right there was a desk, sprinkled with red clay and covered with notebooks and spreadsheets. An inventory in progress.

He was still in his swimming trunks, bare-chested and wet. As soon as the door closed, rather than fully stepping into the room, Bianca had simply moved sideways, her back lined up against the wall. She wasn't sure of what was wanted of her. She wasn't sure whether to speak. Submerged in half-certainties as she was, she forgot all about the letter.

The distance between them kept closing in small increments. Lit up from the back by the white light, Declan had become a silhouette. She was hearing her own breathing growing more tremulous by the second, so she knew he could too. In a flash of understanding, she realized he was enjoying it. He stayed close for a long beat, his face on her level, offering himself to her. That was his move, now she had to make hers. He gave her her time. With adrenaline coursing through her like she was about to parachute-jump, she leaned forward, and the first kiss was hers.

It was all it took for Declan to leap in fully. Her bag slipped off her shoulder as she was pushed against the wall and she felt his hands on her face, his breath on her mouth, his stubble all over. Bianca's belly started shaking violently, as if she had been doused in cold water, and she found herself capable of little else besides closing her eyes. The ideas were going to have to be all his. She felt his wet face travelling to her neck, his cold fingers gripping the flesh on her arms. His sucking and kissing of her neck became vampiresque and a heavy gasp escaped from her throat.

When he got to her lips again, Bianca was ready. She welcomed him with a fully open mouth in a lock that drew soft moans from both of them and that kept refusing to break up. They filled the room with the sounds of kissing and heavy breathing. He punctuated one with the first ass grab through her white shorts, sliding them all the way up to the edge of her buttocks, but abandoned it quickly, as if simply testing her limits. There was little else to test, though. Bianca was allowing his tongue in her mouth. She had let him remove her denim shirt, bought the day before for the date she'd had to miss, and had welcomed the eager squeezing of her left breast as he sucked on her neck again. She allowed herself to feel his meaty arms, his shoulders, his back, cold and sleek from the pool and the room's building heat.

After a stretch of crazed, breathless touching, they broke apart. The initiative might have been Declan's, for pacing purposes, or Bianca's, out of self-awareness. Declan kept himself leaning over her, one hand set on the wall right above her. She laughed softly, catching her breath. What else was there to say? Maybe they had gone far enough. Cars had breaks for a reason.

But when Declan made his next move, there was no protest. He coaxed her to turn around and pressed himself up against her back. She simply looked downwards, watching as his hands travelled up her belly and hungrily seized her 36D breasts through her orange top and the swimsuit underneath. Her arm reached back and she ran her fingers through his short hair. Self-consciousness, insecurities, the awareness of imperfections that grew keener by the year - it all seemed to disintegrate under the power of Declan's fascination with her body. The hand on which he wore his watch slid down her lower belly and invaded the triangle between her legs, squeezing gently through her shorts. Without feeling it herself, she knew how warm it was. His three fingers and palm found the right area and pinched once. Then again. And again. Despite the two layers in between, it wouldn't surprise her if she was soaked through.

He spun her around again and the kissing resumed, interrupted only by his swift removal of Bianca's top, unveiling the ample cleavage she had seen him eyeing in the pool. As she dropped her arms back down, she had them land around his neck. Like he was a boyfriend and she was twenty years younger. Like she was someone else, doing the things only other people did. She caressed the back of Declan's head, enjoying every bit of the taste of his tongue on hers. Warm lips sliding wetly. She found herself being guided and placed on top of the desk, her butt wrinkling the pages of Declan's inventory papers. Laughing with her, he slid them out from under her and chucked them unceremoniously onto a rolled-up tennis net in the corner. She leaned backwards on the desk as he flexed her legs up, setting her feet on the edge. Once again, her belly shook frantically as she watched him unbutton her shorts, now stained with red clay dirt, and pull them off through her feet. She was down to her black swimsuit now, feeling exposed and an inch away from ridiculous. There were still instants when she could see herself in the way that others would. It was so tenuous, this bubble.

Declan seemed transfixed. He was better lit from this angle and she could see all of him. "Ooof," he whispered, talking to himself. "Ooof." He slid his hands up and down Bianca's opulent thighs all the way to her hips, kneading every inch of flesh he could. He could see her trembling, but he didn't stop. Frantic, he sat on a dusty swivel chair, leaned in and, inches away from her crotch, breathed in deeply, eyes shut. He covered the remaining distance slowly and landed his nose right over the area, warm and wet as it was. It sent an electrical shock through Bianca, who threw her head backwards and made her hips leap. Declan stayed there, which sent Bianca into a state of hyperventilation. It was foreign, invasive and unbearably tickly, bordering on torture, but not quite. Without meaning to, her breathing turned into a strange mix of panting, wincing and almost-laughing. Placing her hand on his head came almost out of necessity, as a way of feeling she had some control over the feeling. She felt Declan's mouth spreading wide open, like a famished man finally ending his fast. She felt, through the polyester, the heavy strokes of his tongue caressing her labia underneath. He brought the tip straight to the clitoris, drawing firm circles, and for a moment, Bianca had to imagine Declan with other women, as this was something he knew how to do. Women his age. No. She pushed the thought away.

Before long, she was pressing Declan's face up against herself with definite firmness as she kept thrusting her hips upward, contributing to the friction against his mouth. A distant part of her brain registered the crunching and voices of people walking past the storage room, but she was unable to care. When again she looked down, she saw Declan trying to move the swimsuit aside so as to allow himself access unimpeded. It was tight, though. He yanked it up tightly, causing it to wedge into her lips. When he saw the effect on her, he yanked repeatedly. She would have orgasmed with that alone. But he got to his feet and, in an eyeblink, produced a pair of scissors, its blades peppered with old pieces of scotch tape. Three cuts later, the crotch section snapped upwards, like an unfastened strap. She chuckled breathlessly at the stupidity of it all, and the smile stayed on her face as she saw Declan burying his nose into her pubic hair. In her whimpering and panting, she heard sounds she couldn't remember ever hearing from herself, and the louder she allowed herself to get, the more aroused she became. Her first loud, unrestrained moan didn't take long to hit. Declan licked and sucked and nibbled her into a frenzy that was, quite simply, new.

Then it stopped. Declan advanced his mouth along her belly and toward her breasts. He groped one and got to sucking on the other through the swimsuit, before moving up to kiss the summer freckles on her chest. He was crazed, clumsy, desperate. Bianca wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lift her into an upright sitting position, her legs spread on both sides of him. In breathless tones, his hand on her face and his thumb drawing a line on her bottom lip, he said, in English, that he really wanted to fuck her. Again, she let her hands wander firmly over his arms, from wrists to shoulders. Over his jaw, over his chest. The hairy chest that had made her so uncomfortable at the pool. He smelled of chlorine and sweat and menthol, and seemed to be radiating copious amounts of heat, as the air hitting her back felt cooler. Down below, his erection was poking out boldly through his swimming trunks. She pulled them down herself. His cock bounced back up instantly, so hard it was pointing up, emanating a faint aroma that made her salivate. It was thicker than she expected, its veins inviting to the touch. She began stroking, her heart thumping in her ears.

"I don't have a condom," Declan admitted.

She whispered her indifference toward the fact. For some reason, she didn't want to hear her own voice. She granted permission with a shy kiss on his chin and, to steel herself, placed her hands on his upper back as he closed the short remaining distance between the two bodies. She knew it would hurt. The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance and about half of his length made its way in much faster than expected. She let out a gasp, her brow furrowed. After a short wait, more slowly this time, he slid the rest. She clenched her legs around him to keep herself from crying out.

Declan gave his own tortured moan. He withdrew and moved back in softly, out of consideration as much as necessity, as he was too close to cumming. Sticking to slowness as the rule of thumb, every few thrusts he would shove it all the way to the base, drawing loaded gasps from her. She was so wet that the work did itself. He kept his eyes on her face, using her expression as a gauge, and as soon as it felt right, his thrusting turned hard. To his delight, she clenched her legs even tighter. Her moans turned longer, showing off fascinating variations in her voice they would have never heard otherwise. The fleshy sounds of each thrust got loud, enough for him to worry. But that part of his brain was not making the decisions. With his hands holding tightly onto her thighs, he began fucking her hard, making the desk slide across the floor in small increments. He felt her nails stabbing his back and the moisture of her mouth on his shoulder.

With his hips on fire, he finally got her where he wanted. Bianca's orgasm reached her with her face pointed upwards; she froze for two seconds of complete silence before exploding into a moan that no doubt could be heard all the way to the orchard. It washed through her in a long wave, holding out in full blast as he kept thrusting into her, harder than ever. On the verge of cumming, Declan pulled her off the desk and onto her feet, laying a desperate kiss on her even as she tried catching her breath. They panted into each other's mouths while he squeezed her ass to his heart's content.

Without skipping a beat, Declan turned Bianca around, slid the straps of her swimsuit down her shoulders and peeled the chest portion off. He squeezed on her bare breasts hungrily, whispering into her ear all about wanting to kiss each and every freckle on her back. Bianca let herself be bent over the desk and spread her legs apart. She was virtually naked now, with only the last vestiges of her swimsuit crumpled around her waist. It was a powerful picture, even more with her looking back at him. Her bulbous ass, with a natural, graceful sag, whiter than the rest of her. The hourglass-shaped back, with slight rolls on the sides. She looked delicious. With his chin pressed between her shoulder blades, Declan took his cock and slid it back in. This was his homestretch. Gripping tightly onto her hips, he leaned back and threw all care to the wind. Plaff, plaff, plaff, plaff, plaff. Each new thrust made her ass ripple vigorously. He was making her moan again. An intense joy invaded him even before the orgasm hit, stretching far beyond the sex in his shaggy little storage room. The thought of being able to do this again, soon enough. Maybe for the rest of the summer, maybe longer.

Half his load shot off inside of her, the rest was squirted onto her buttocks, swimsuit and back when he pulled out. He collapsed on her back as he kept stroking himself to the last drop. She reached back and brought his face into contact with hers. A tender gesture, meant to acknowledge all the effort made. They stayed that way for a good long while. He, kissing her shoulders; she, enjoying his weight. Meanwhile, his cum trickled out of her and down her legs, turning cold.

She didn't remember arriving back at the restaurant. Sitting across from the twins, her breathing ragged still, the sense of dissonance prevailed, as she wasn't so much talking as hearing herself talk. They were begging for permission to have a sleepover at Daniel and Soraya's. Bianca said they couldn't, because they had to get their vaccines for the trip early in the morning. Julián started getting morose and Bianca resorted to tried and tested tricks. "Daniel and Soraya are going to see you cry... are you sure you want that?" A little bit of shame always worked. On their way to the parking lot, she promised the twins a movie night after their baths. Before leaving, she hugged Rebeca goodbye, who said she wished them a good trip, and wouldn't it have been nice to get to know each other better?

.............................................

Declan spent the following week relearning discipline. He couldn't get rid of his hopes, but he tried hard to keep them in check. It proved difficult. If he didn't call her the weekend before she left for Florida it was due to how confident he felt that she would want to see him again.

Throughout the week, he did his job happily, feeling Bianca's presence on the stands still. All the while remembering that a bus ride from Viña to Santiago took less than three hours. He left her letter unread and saved it for later, feeling that there was a perfect time to open it, and it wasn't just yet.

He called her on Wednesday, the day before he knew she was set to leave for Santiago. She was happy to hear from him. They covered many things, and sweetness and maturity remained their tone of choice all the way through. But by the end of it, she had left it fairly clear that they wouldn't be seeing more of each other. He said hi to the twins, who asked to be put on when they were told it was him on the phone. He got to hear all about Epcot Center and then some.

One deeply weird thing about Chile: the end of summer meant simply the beginning of the year. 1999 brought much more with it, whether Declan wanted it or not. The club's participation in the Challenger tournament, which he was asked to help coach, became a personal obsession. May smacked him with a chickenpox diagnosis, as he had never had it as a kid. In August, his brother came to visit with his girlfriend. Together, they ventured out to the epic Marble Caves in Patagonia. It was there, while laying in a tent in the desert, that the realization hit: the orange was finally dry. Declan kept his head down and worked all through the rest of his contract, but long before the end of the year, there was a plane ticket back to the States with his name on it. It was time to stop running.

Declan and Bianca found each other again in 2005. She looked him up on Hi5 and reached out. He browsed through her pictures while they chatted and was glad to see she had her own business and looked happy. She did the same on her own end and had to ask whether the two kids in several photos were his. She was thrilled with the answer. At one point Bianca asked if he had ever read her letter. He laughed it off and said he had lost it in the move, but whether it was the truth or wounded pride, she thought to herself that maybe he hadn't needed to.