Their Last Long Hot Summer

"Oh yes, Paul, that's it. Just like that."

He took her slowly. He realised everything he'd done to her that other night - and even the oral earlier that day - was forced, rushed, insistent, with some ulterior motive. This he wanted to be gentle, doing it just because they both wanted to. A steady rocking motion had him slide mostly out, her vagina clinging to him, not wanting to let him go; then a subtle lean forward and he slid back home, burying himself deep inside her again. He watched her small arse and delicate waist, a little sweat beading in the small of her back. The way her torso filled out towards the shoulders, the swell of her boobs just visible under her shoulder blades. Her long blonde hair, dried again by the sun, cascading over her back. She was beautiful, he had to admit.

They looked over at their friends; Immy's head was tipped back and her eyes closed as she surrendered to the orgasm brought on by Samantha's talented mouth on her sensitive breasts.

Looks like everyone gets their happy ending, he thought, as he felt that familiar pressure build between his legs. "I'm nearly there. Where do you want me?" he asked.

"Right there, where you are," she breathed. She couldn't hold herself back any more. Knowing, feeling, he was on the edge tipped her over it. He pulsed, and her body rocked with it, coming together as one.

Four teenagers, now young adults, ended their last long hot summer together - more than friends, though not yet really lovers. From now on, unless something incredible happened, responsibilities would dominate their lives. The carefree days were over. But they would always be able to look back on this time spent together, knowing they'd made the most of this magical period of their lives.

EPILOGUE

The bubbles tickled at Paul's skin, the warm water teasing his naked body, as he looked out across the London skyline from the penthouse apartment.

Samantha sashayed into the room, naked as the day she was born - although much changed since then. She carried a bottle of Bollinger in one hand and two crystal flutes in the other. She slammed the bottle squarely down onto the ground and the cork exploded from the top, spraying champagne over the tiled floor and into the whirlpool bath. The impromptu fountain quickly subsided, and she poured some of the remains into the flutes and handed one to her boyfriend. "To us," she said.

"To us," he agreed, clinking his glass to hers, and taking a deep swig, watching Samantha glide into the water and curl her incredible body against his. "Happy birthday," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied, taking his lip between hers and sliding into his mouth.

This apartment, everything he could see, was theirs. At least for the next three or four years, as they made their way through university. Together.

That prior evening, after the four friends had made up to each other - and made out with each other - had been as full of surprises as the day had been. When Samantha's father Philip had returned from work, she had a brief conversation with him. Paul had watched her punch the air, hug her father tight, and then come dancing back across to him. "I'm sorry Paul, but I've been keeping another secret from you."

"There can't be any more surprises, surely? You're heading off to Edinburgh at the weekend," he said, and his face fell once more.

"Well, that's just the thing. No, I'm not. I got into RSM, in London."

Paul just stared. The Royal School of Music? In South Kensington, literally next door to Imperial College, where he was heading. "But... But how?"

"They were always my second choice. I swapped courses, in the summer, once we got together. You didn't really think I could leave you now, did you?"

"But... All those times we spoke about breaking up...?"

"I never said we would. It was in your head. I told you not to worry, that you wouldn't be alone!"

"I don't believe it. Why keep it a secret?"

"Other than to see the look on your face right now? Well, partly because I didn't want it to distract us from everything that was going on. But mostly because I wanted to make sure of one other thing first, too." She looked over at her father, and he made his way towards them, holding out a set of keys.

"It's not much I'm afraid," he said. "We're still fitting out the rest of the flats in the building, so there will be a lot of construction noise while you're there. But we can't rent out the penthouse with all that building work going on. So, until the work is finished, it's all yours." He lifted Paul's arm and placed the keys into his open palm.

Paul's mouth flapped, like a fish.

"Well," Samantha explained, "I'm going to need somewhere to live in London. It was too late to apply for student halls of residence. And dad has this place just sitting there, ready, unoccupied." She couldn't help but laugh at the gormless expression on Pauls' face. "I thought maybe you might want to bunk up with me?" she smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"I think I'll leave you lovebirds to it," Philip said, sliding away.

Which is how he came to be sitting in a whirlpool bath with the most beautiful woman in the whole world running her hand up his thigh and caressing his hardening cock.

"You've not given me my present yet," she whispered. "What have you got for me?" Eyebrow raised.

In all the recent excitement, and their almost break-up, he'd forgotten to pick something up for her birthday. Unforgiveable. "I've not got you anything..."

"But you have," she said. "I know you have it. It's everything I could ever want." She didn't need him to buy her things. Her family was rich; she had all the stuff she could ever want. No, what she wanted was him. She circled her finger on his thigh, under the water, and nuzzled at his neck. But he didn't take the hint.

She tried a different tack. "You were asking me something, the other week," she said. "Something I interrupted by storming off."

Realisation dawned. He looked at her, eyes wide, hope rising.

"Ask me again," she breathed into his ear, sucking the lobe between her lips, as she settled her soft butt on his knees.

"Oh god, Samantha. I love you more than anything. More than the world. Say you'll be mine forever. Samantha, will you..." Paul's heart fluttered. "Fuck, I... I don't have the ring in here..."

"I have one," she said, sliding down into his lap, guiding him into her. "Right here." It was a perfect fit. "And yes," she said, holding his face in her hands. "My answer is yes, yes! A thousand times, yes!"

"Forever," he said, holding up his flute.

"Forever," she agreed, clinking the crystal glasses together, moulding into him, while under the water she took the prize that would be always hers.

THE END