Stopping Time

Eventually we rose, and rinsed again in the ocean before going back up to the house. We showered together, and put on clothes for the first time in nearly 24 hours to eat lunch - her in a loose skirt and loose white tank top, me in shorts and a well-fitting tee. While we ate, we consulted on what to tell Lauren and Brian, until she finally settled on the truth, which only sparked a flurry of additional texts to us both.

The family's flight had been rescheduled for 4pm, which meant they'd be at the house by 8, and we promised to cook an anniversary/birthday meal to be ready when they arrived. We planned it out and did some prep, but had plenty of time for a long nap in the hammock at the beach, curled up together, clothed this time.

At around 5, after rousing, we enjoyed another sunset with champagne, then went upstairs to cook. She was better than I was; her father had taught her from a young age, and she threw together a lemon sauce for the salmon that tasted professional. I was on salad and bread duty, which I handled, and by 6:45 everything was ready but for the cooking. Searing the salmon wouldn't take long, and she planned to do it once they arrived, so we found ourselves once again with some time.

"You know... we aren't going to have quite as much freedom when everyone gets here," I said, wrapping my arms around her from behind as she finished cleaning the island counter. "Feels like we should make as much use of it as we can." She spun in my arms until she faced me.

"Oh? What do you propose? You want to join me upstairs?" She kissed me.

"No..." I said, and picked her up by her waist, sitting her on the edge of the counter.

"Connor!" she laughed, as I hiked up her skirt.

"We have plenty of time..." My hand found her underwear, and started to push the crotch of them to the side.

"What if they're early?" She protested, but not convincingly.

"Then they'll get a show." She kissed me as I touched her, and her hands undid my shorts then pushed them and my boxers to the floor, unleashing my cock. She wrapped her legs around me as I entered her again. This time was fast and purposeful - not as hungry as the night, not as languid as the day. It was a last blast, the end of a miraculous day outside time, and we fucked like it was ending and we were trying to hold on to it for just a while longer. In a little while, we'd be people among others again, with factors other than our own desires to consider. Nothing was over; we had the rest of the week and no one in the house was a prude. But the freedom of it ended as she called to me and I came that final time, in the kitchen on the counter, as a plane made its final approach.