Such a Gentleman!

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Voboy
Voboy
1,776 Followers

It's nice to be admired by a gentleman. So possibly I encouraged him, lying back with stretched limbs and an arched back. Chad was fond of teasing me how far south my body would go once I turned 25, and secretly I thought he might be right. So I figured I should flaunt it while I had it, enjoying the attention from Aaron and all sorts of passing males while the breeze ruffled the forgotten pages of my book.

At last it was time to get up and leave; Lindsay's dad was springing for another supper, and it would take time to get everyone showered and changed. The condo had four showers for all of us, but there were also a couple of outdoor units built into the side of the house, behind a tall wooden fence. These were not popular, the water pressure being rather intense, but I'm not picky. "I'm just going to wash the sand off in the outdoor shower," I shrugged, heading for the little gate in the fence. "I don't need to make a big production out of a shower today."

"Good plan," he admitted. "I'll be lucky to get a bathroom within the next, oh ninety minutes?" We were close to last in the line of wedding guests headed for the condo, and the prospect of waiting around in the tiled living room wasn't really making Aaron happy. I thought for a moment, and then decided there was no harm in asking.

"Join me," I suggested casually. "The hot water will go farther, and it's just washing off the sand." I looked up at him. "It's not like I'm going to be doing the whole soap and shampoo thing."

He considered, then flashed another of his radiant smiles. "Well, that's mighty kind of you," he grinned. "We can decently keep our clothes on, too."

"Oh, of course," I said hastily. I hadn't meant to suggest anything other. "No, absolutely. It's just sharing the water."

"Sure." I opened the gate and ushered him in, still in the same blue board shorts from yesterday. I, of course, had a different suit; a woman can't get away with being seen in the same suit twice. This one was still a two-piece, also cut nice and full in the bottoms, but the top was straining just a tad. With breasts like mine, that usually happened. "After you, sir."

"Why thank you, madam." The gate snicked shut behind us, and in short order the stultifying air was quite gloriously being banished by a hard, cool spray of stinging water. "Shit. That's a lot of pressure."

"Don't bitch about it." I had to talk loudly over the rush of the water. "It's why nobody else wants to use this thing." I let the spray play over my body, tipping my head back and closing my eyes as the cool water reached like tiny soothing fingers into every nook and cranny. "Oh, fuck," I groaned in pleasure. "This feels awesome." A cedar bench ran along the wall, and I perched a leg on it. It was heaven.

"Take your time." He was brushing at himself, getting the worst of the sand off his shoulders, in no hurry. When I opened my eyes, I saw him staring at me.

"Turn around," I ordered. "Or, at least, give me some room. I've got sand in my ass."

"My." Aaron backed against the side of the enclosure so that I could back my butt into the spray. "You say the most charming things."

I smiled over my shoulder at him, thinking nothing of it as I pulled the waistband of my bottoms far out to let the water sluice through my crack. He could see right down there, obviously, but I hardly cared; he'd seen plenty more last night. I thought about spinning around to catch him looking, but then decided there was no point. Besides, I had work to do: there really was sand in my ass. I wasn't trying to flirt.

God, but it felt good to get the fucking sand out. I've never been sure how the beach people do it: they spend hours each day just lounging. The sand must get everywhere, permanently; not for the first time, I wondered about people who claimed they'd had sex on the beach. It would be like fucking through sandpaper, for both.

I let the bottoms snap back into place, then turned and readjusted my tits in the top. "Better," I announced. He smiled down at me.

"I see you missed the memo on the whole tattoo thing."

"Huh?" I was sure I had misheard. I pulled the clip out of my hair and let it fall, spreading heavy across my back. "What's that?"

"A lot of women our age have those lower-back tattoos." He swished his head through the stream of water, wincing at the impact. "I find them tacky."

"Same here," I replied vaguely, and then holy shit. He was digging deep into his shorts, pivoting the shower head until the water sprayed hard right down the front of them. He gasped. "Shit, Aaron," I giggled. "Don't hurt yourself."

He was staring down at himself, occasionally swiping and scrubbing with his fingers. "Sand," he replied, preoccupied. I'm only human, so I made sure his eyes were closed, leaned down, and took a look at his dick.

He heard me gasp, and his eyes snapped open like windowshades.

I glared up at him, disgusted. "Really?"

He frowned, completely confused, and then he got it. He glanced down. "What? We get erections sometimes; you know that. It's a normal male reaction."

"Reaction to what? A water jet shooting into your junk?"

He finished up with the water, but kept his hand inside. He smiled, not at all ashamed. "I don't think it was the water."

I felt like an image on a porn site, the way he was studying me, his hand massaging himself absently. "Don't you dare," I warned. He spread his hands wide.

"What?" He shoved his hair once more into the water. "You know better than that, Ash. The way you look today? You're probably responsible for ten or twelve hard-ons all up and down that beach." He shrugged. "Just add me to the list. It's not like you should be offended or anything."

Oh, but I was. I absolutely did not want to fuck him. "Look, compadre, nothing's going to happen here between us. I'm taken, and so are you."

"Shit, Ash, I know that. I'm sorry if it bothers you; I didn't mean it." His eyes were squarely on my face, which I appreciated; I could feel my nipples waking up again, goddamn them. I told myself it was the breeze and the wet top. He paused, and seemed to be waiting for something, but it went right over my head. "You, uh, you should probably go. If you don't, you know, want to see me..."

I felt my eyes go wide. "Jesus, Aaron!" I railed. "You want me to leave, all sandy and shit, so that you can jack off thinking about me? Motherfucker!" I was enraged, and also undeniably a little bit excited. I was very aware of the tent he was pitching in his soaked shorts, which showed no sign of getting any smaller. "You're pathetic, Aaron. Go fuck yourself. Literally. Like, in your bedroom. I've got to rinse off some more."

"I can't go into the house like this!" he protested, gesturing at himself. "Peter's mom and dad are in there watching TV; I'd have to walk right past them! And they're going to know I was out here with you." He was right, of course, but I glared at him anyway. I'm not a woman who likes to admit she's wrong. "Please, Ash, give me a break here."

Fuck. "Your lack of control over your penis," I muttered coldly, "is not my problem." I had sand in my top, and it needed attention. "You stand in the corner and do whatever you need to do, you pervert." It came to me, all of a sudden, that Aaron had no idea I liked to watch people fuck. I don't make a habit of it; it's just something I like to do when I get the chance. Ironically I'd met Chad that way, watching him do his prior bitch. It was a personal quirk I'd discovered once I'd gone to college, after Aaron and I were done. "Just make it quick, please." I'd never watched a guy jack it before; I wondered whether I'd be into it.

He gaped in disbelief, but I just bumped him out of the way with my hip and leaned back to let the water pummel my breasts. He drifted off into the corner, as I'd requested, and once I was done I sighed with relief.


That's when I turned, very casually, to look at him.

I'd made Aaron Lewis cum dozens of times, in many different ways. I'd given him handjobs, blowjobs, pussy in all the comfortable positions, even anal once or twice; he'd sprayed himself onto and into all the usual parts of my body. But that had been years and years ago.

This was different.

He stared at me now with an intensity that, had I seen it on a guy's face in a bar, would have made me run away and call 911. His gorgeous, squared-off face was slack now, the mouth hanging dumbly open, his eyes digging holes in my ass. Down below he was chugging along, jacking his dick in a harsh and punishing rhythm, his left hand underneath cupping his balls. The board shorts, forgotten, were still bunched up across his ass.

He said nothing as our eyes met.

And then I had a decision to make.

I knew I ought to just sigh, look at him in pity, and then leave quietly. Or, failing that, I could give him a wink and the briefest of smiles, and then leave quietly. Trouble was, I didn't feel like leaving. Reaching blindly behind me, I moved the water spray off my head; this had the effect of pulling my bikini top sheer against my right breast, which drew his hard eyes like a magnet. I cleared my throat, which had gone unaccountably phlegmy.

"Dude, you might as well just drop your pants. Does it matter at this point?" His mouth curled into a fiendish, wide-open grin, one I remembered from our past. "Make yourself more comfortable." I took on what I told myself was a bored expression.

Aaron's smile grew as he interrupted himself, his cock surging and throbbing, and shoved his shorts to his knees. "Once upon a time," he observed casually, "you'd have taken care of this for me."

I laughed. "Yeah, well it's not my job anymore, buddy."

"Huh." He was back at it now, more slowly, the spongy head of his angry purple cock winking into and out of view as his wrapped hand slid back and forth. He was enjoying having me watch, and that made me feel even dirtier. "Well, could you at least... like, you can make yourself more comfortable too, Ash." Those eyes had gone completely devious now. "That is, you said you had sand in your bottoms..."

I gaped, my mouth going wide in shock. "Aaron!" I burst out in mock shock, "that's so wrong!"

He rolled his eyes. "This is already pretty wrong, Ashley," he pointed out. His balls jiggled just like I remembered; I recalled wild nights as those things smacked against my chin, my nose, my clit... "I won't tell a soul, hon. You know that."

"Oh, so it's 'hon' now, is it?" I shook my head, feeling really naughty now, and hooked a thumb into my waistband. I pulled it down over my hip, just on one side, teasing him. "Comfortable, you said?" I felt goosebumps prickle the skin beneath my belly button. I had the bottoms down far enough for him to see how closely I trimmed, that was for sure, but I hoped not far enough for him to see how aroused I was. I'd need to watch it if I wanted to keep the upper hand here; he knew my pussy as well as I knew his cock. He'd remember what it meant when my labia changed color, becoming red and itchy. He was staring now, his mouth back open.

Fuck it. Why was I even pretending now? I took a deep breath and the bottoms went coasting down my legs, only to get kicked toward his face once they hit my toes. I spread my feet shoulder width apart. "Better?" I asked him, a harsh pair of syllables.

"Better." We stared at each other wordlessly for a few moments more, getting used to this, both trying to convince ourselves this was somehow okay. He arched an eyebrow, his shorts migrating lower. Incredibly, hesitantly, he offered me his left hand. "Can I..."

"Fuck, Aaron, no. You can't touch me." I hoped I didn't sound too desperate, but I no longer had much faith in the cracked whispers I was managing. He'd always done an excellent job with his fingers. The fine mist from the overspray was drifting around, but I was soaked through anyway; between sweat and the tickly little trickle I could feel running down my inner thigh, I'd obviously need another rinse after this.

I saw his Adam's apple bob, heard him clear his throat. "You could... you know." He smirked slightly as he regained control of himself. "Join me?" He shuffled closer, out of the corner and into my space just slightly.

"Jesus H Christ, Aaron!" How was this happening so fast. "You're crazy." My nipples were like fucking missiles; I couldn't even pretend it was the breeze anymore. He reached out and, watching my eyes carefully, cupped my tit, mauling it, his stubby fingers tuning my nipple like an old-school radio dial; he remembered precisely what got me off. "Seriously, Aaron, you can't touch me." He jerked his hand back as if my tit gave an electric shock, which was what it felt like to me; I regretted my outburst at once.

"You... you can touch me," he replied thickly, his hand falling back down to his side; his other hand stopped too, relaxing, and there he stood with his cock pointing right up toward my neck, just a foot away. I looked down, licking my lips unconsciously at the sight of his long, stubby two-tone shaft. "I mean, I know you said it's not your job anymore, but who are we fooling now?"

I was prickling all over now, my brain on fire, and there he was, and he was exactly right, and I grabbed that cock like a man overboard grabs a safety rope. It was thick and hard and so, so hot in my hand; I jacked it fluidly, as I always had, the old textures and nooks and crannies flooding back into my muscle memory without any difficulty. The thick ridge along the bottom was already shuddering; I remembered what that meant.

My brain was empty now, or maybe full, or maybe who the fuck knows? I sure wasn't thinking straight. He came in close to me, shuffling with his board shorts still ridiculously wrapped around his ankles, though to be fair to him he was struggling desperately to get them off. Our breath mingled; I stared at him to find his eyes dark and intent in that special, special way, and I knew he wasn't thinking straight either.

I backed slightly, the cedar bench now stopping me; I'd have lost my balance if I hadn't reached up and wrapped my left arm tight around his shoulders. The water was roaring past my ear, almost a solid column, almost like Chad's dick. Shit, did I say Chad? Like Aaron's dick.

I wasn't the only one who'd tried to keep me from falling when I hit the bench; Aaron, being such a gentleman, had reached instinctively up to grab for my right hip, and his hand had landed there like a bear claw; it dug into my flesh now, the thumb beginning to move naughtily along my hipbone. With a grunt of triumph that exploded past my face, Aaron finally got his right foot free; he threw his leg up onto the bench, and now I could feel his inner thigh sliding wet across the left side of my ass, his dick just inches from my belly, and I was jacking him like a five-dollar whore.

We groaned. We panted. We moved, his hips rolling back and forth lewdly, and at some point my arm abandoned his shoulder and slid down, down his wet back, right underneath his ass, tickling at the tender skin behind his balls. I felt sand grating in there.


"Oh my fucking God," he muttered reverently, and our lips were so painfully close to kissing it would have taken just a fraction of an inch of movement to get our tonsils involved. But I did not want to take that step, and he didn't seem to either. What we were doing was quite enough.

Almost.

His lunge to get his leg up had moved his idle right hand down between our bodies; somehow respectful of my wishes, he made no effort to stick his fingers into me, but I was rapidly changing my mind about that. My trimmed pubes brushed the back of his right hand. His left hand was now flat along my side, up high with his thumb beginning to prod underneath my bikini top, and finally, with his cock hot in my hand and his lean body moving with mine, I made up my mind.

He must have been surprised when I let go of his penis, but he had to know I wasn't going anywhere; by that time, I had a finger poking around his anus and I'd just started whining, those low gurgling moans that he'd undoubtedly remember from before; I am a demonstrative lover. I clasped his hand hard in mine between our overheated bodies, turned it firmly around, and pushed it straight between my legs.

Oh. Fucking bliss.

Those fingers bored straight up me, two of them slipping right in, strong and powerful, while his thumb worked my clit as if it were some kind of joystick button that fired orgasms instead of lasers. My knees went weak instantly, his grip on my tit and cunt harsh and hot, and I wrapped my hand back around his cock, struggling to catch up.

Ten seconds? Fifteen? Twenty? It could not possibly have gone on much longer than that, but it was too long for my sex-starved brain. I was shuddering like an overtaxed engine as I came on his fingers, and then he let go too; the slap of his semen against my belly was hot and hard, splattering all the way up to my chin.

"Goddamn!" I sighed weakly, clutching at whatever part of this man I could reach. He held me gently now, arms tight and tender around my back, and for a second I forgot I was falling in love with Chad. Once more I felt like kissing him, stopping myself at the last moment. I could feel my face settle into a wide, lazy Cheshire cat grin, my head leaning back, the water now pounding on my forehead.

He wasn't so squeamish. I felt his eager lips on my neck, my ears, the tops of my breasts, and I eventually batted him good-naturedly away. "Enough!" I giggled, my hand cramped. The fingers of my left hand smelled like his asshole. "That's enough, you lech."

"What?" He was blinking himself back into sanity now, looking down at where our bodies touched all along their length from chest to toe, his sperm dripping freely along our skin. He nipped at my jaw again, dangerously close to my mouth. "Something wrong?"

"Shit. So many things," I sighed, working my taut muscles. The sound of the water came back to my fevered consciousness. "But mostly, your beard is scratchy. You're going to leave me all red."

"Sorry." He backed off at once, feeling my sudden distance and disentangling himself from me. I knew this had been a hideous mistake, that I ought to regret it more than I did. He was looking at me with his old puppy dog eyes, the ones he'd used when he broke up with me. But I still had almost two days left with this guy, and I couldn't handle any awkwardness; that had to get nipped in the bud right away. I thought fast. Humor might do it.

"Dude. You came like a fucking milk explosion. That chick of yours needs to take better care of you." Well. That snapped him back into reality. He blinked as I saw the situation take hold, him understanding how bad this was. He looked down at himself, a little embarrassed.

"Damn, Ash, I'm sorry." He took my hand aimlessly, then dropped it. "I know you didn't want that."


"Oh no?" He was right: I hadn't, and in many ways I still didn't, but he'd just feel bad if I told him so. "Whatever. It happened. Am I supposed to be sad about it now? Besides, it felt fine." I waggled my eyebrows, letting him digest the memory of myself cumming against his fingers. He smiled at last. "That's not the way I live my life, Aaron. What's done is done, and it felt fucking dynamite, and that's that. Right?"

"If you say so." At last, I saw that wry grin. "Holy shit, Ash. One of these days, we need to sit down and talk about your mixed messages. But you've certainly still got the knack, I'll give you that." I grinned despite myself. His penis hung low and spent now, and I fought a sudden irrational urge to bend down and give it a little kiss. "That's the best I've felt in awhile."

"Me too," I admitted, and why not? I smacked his naked chest. "Let's get washed off. People are going to wonder where we've been, and I'm not about to go walking around looking like a spermsicle." I reached a hand out. "Hot water's long gone, though."

Voboy
Voboy
1,776 Followers