She smiled, touched by his story. “Have you seen him since?”
He nodded. “I go home every Christmas, and I exchange e-mail with him.” Another soft laugh filled the air. “He’s always asking me for tips on picking up girls. He’s got his eye on several old women at the senior citizen’s center where he plays gin rummy twice a week.”
“That’s great,” she said softly.
“But enough about him. I didn’t come out onto this balcony to discuss my grandpa.”
She rose slightly on her knees, wiggling her hips as she twined her arms around his neck. “And what exactly did you come out here for?”
He grazed his hands up past her hips, stroking his thumbs over her pearled nipples, making her release a low groan. “I came out here to fuck my hot little angel,” he whispered.
A tremor raced through her pussy as she rose higher on her knees, lifting her breasts to his mouth. He nipped gently at one peak, catching it in his teeth through the filmy fabric. She sucked in her breath as the little bite echoed through her, straight down into her cunt.
The transparent garment possessed a small keyhole between her breasts, tied with a thin bow—he used his teeth to pull the string and reached up to part the slip’s little vee opening until he’d freed her breasts, the fabric pulled tight around their outer edges. “Mmm, I do like this outfit,” he growled, lifting a kiss to the inner curve of her breast. “You look hot in it, but I can still get to everything I need to.”
Reaching up, she cupped one breast while he watched, lifting her nipple to his mouth.
He looked into her eyes as he delivered slow, sensual licks over the distended nub, the night breeze making the wet peak tingle coolly. She gazed back, feeling as if perhaps they’d never been quite so intimate as this—their faces so close, their eyes locked, their foreplay tantalizingly unhurried and deliberate.
His voice was the softest whisper, almost lost in the breeze. “Fuck me.”
Carrie felt the request slither down through her body like something alive. Her pussy surged with moisture and her breasts ached.
Reaching slowly down for his big cock, she licked her lips, bending to lower a gentle kiss to the wet end. She felt him shudder, heard him breathe, “Ah,” as she sat back up and licked her lips again, tasting the sweet flavor of his pre-come, being sure to remove every remnant of his wetness from her lips and not let a drop go to waste.
Then she shifted, her movements leisurely, languid—wanting to stretch this out, wanting him to watch her, wanting him to feel just as sensually wired as she did. She lifted her cunt, poising it on the tip of his huge shaft before she sank down, taking him inside.
She let out a deep cry of pleasure—he felt even bigger than usual, as if he were spearing her whole body, as if there was nothing to her but the hot cock that filled her.
“Damn,” he murmured, his voice quivering slightly. “You took me so fucking easy, angel.”
Oh God, she had. She hadn’t even thought about it; she’d been thinking of nothing but wanting him inside her, how well he would fill her, how slow she wanted to fuck him so it would last all night. It was probably the first time he’d entered her that she hadn’t been hyperaware of his size, tense and waiting to see what happened.
She smiled. “Looks like you don’t need that secret weapon, after all.”
He grinned. “Well, I might not need it, but I may just use it anyway.”
Yet Carrie could hardly even think about her ass at the moment—her full focus was on how well his shaft filled her pussy. “Do you have any idea how incredible you feel in my cunt?”
He released a soft growl. “Probably about as good as you feel on my cock. You’re still so, so tight, angel.”
She sighed. “Who wouldn’t be tight, around this monster?”
He laughed. “You might be surprised. Your sweet little pussy is definitely the tightest thing I’ve felt in a very long time.”
“Good,” she said playfully. “That makes me feel special.”
His grin faded. “You are special.”
She released a languid sigh, letting the sentiment permeate her.
“You know today, when I said I wanted you to lick Shay so you could feel what I feel with you?”
She nodded.
And he shook his head. “You couldn’t have felt what I feel with you. Maybe some of the physical part, but…you couldn’t have felt the way I feel inside.”
His words stole her breath for a moment, but when she recovered, she knew she wanted to make love to him even more now—wanted to make love to him as he’d never been made love to before.
As his hands curved around her ass, she slid sensually up and down his long shaft in protracted, lingering strokes. She watched his gaze arc across her face, down over her breasts, held so snugly by the fabric stretched around them, then below, to where he entered her wetness.
She lowered her cunt on him again and again, in a slow, seductive fuck that was consuming her as much as she hoped it consumed him. She leaned her head back as she sank onto him, reveling in the enormity of the cock that filled her, then ran her hands back through her hair as she began to ride him a little faster, a little more rhythmically. The warm tropical night enveloped her as much as his hands kneading her ass, as much as his aura surrounding her. Her breasts jiggled lightly, sensually, against the sexy beige fabric that held them aloft and slightly pushed together.
He groaned, and when she brought her head back up and opened her eyes, he looked positively mesmerized with her. She reached up, lifting the weight of her round breasts in her hands. He watched her as she ran her fingertips over her nipples, gently squeezing them, making them harder for his hungry gaze. Then she molded the mounds gently in her palms, letting the engorged peaks jut lightly against her hand.
Finally, she lifted her breasts to his mouth—both of them together. They were large enough that she could push her nipples almost against one another, placing them closely side by side.
Chris reached up, replacing her hands with his own to press the mounds inward as he sucked in both distended crests. The sensation shot sharply to her clit and she yelled out, still fucking him, still riding that enormous cock and feeling each and every stroke in every nerve ending in her body.
Chris continued to suckle her, sometimes both nipples at once, sometimes only one, but his ministrations had her gritting her teeth in severe pleasure. Her whole being was wracked with hot delight—sensations shivering through her neck, arms, thighs, belly, as much as through her breasts and cunt. She fucked him harder now, driving her pussy down onto the hilt of his cock, grunting with each stroke. What had started out slow and sensual had become rough and animalistic, primal forces driving her actions and responses, taking her so deep into sex that she barely knew what she was doing. She’d lost thought and decision and followed her body’s instincts now, finally stopping her rough drives against him, trading them in for hot, grinding circles that rubbed her clit against the base of his shaft.
He began alternating between breasts, sucking one nipple and then the other, both of them panting as she drew closer and closer to ecstasy. “Yes, yes,” she whispered on the hot breeze. “Oh, God yes, baby.” She ground her pussy heatedly against him, ultra-aware of the long cock stretched full and hard inside her, knowing soon it would happen, soon she would come.
Releasing her breasts, he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. She found herself biting at his lips, and he bit back, pinching, piercing, in a struggle that was as much an attack on each other as a kiss—and then he softened it, changing the kiss to something passionate and deep, all tongue and swallowing softness.
“Ahhhh!” The high-pitched cry left her when that hot, wonderful kiss took her over the edge into heated pulses and blinding sensations of orgasm. She thrust her pussy warm against him, riding it out, soaking it up, emitting more of the high moans that matched the throbs ricocheting through her body.
She’d just opened her eyes to meet his when he
let out a low, ferocious growl that she knew meant he was coming, too. He pushed her hips down, down, down, slamming up into her in brutal strokes that made her go lightheaded, feeling more well-fucked than ever before.
When he finally went still and laid his head back, she relaxed against him, her body still tingling with amazement. It kept getting better and better with him.
He lifted his head to flash sexy eyes and a wicked smile. “What the fuck was that?” he breathed.
“I don’t know,” she purred, “but we should do it more often.”
Chapter Nine
Chris had to work on Wednesday—he had a snorkeling cruise at lunchtime, was scheduled to work the kiosk for an hour after his return, and then an afternoon shift at the Lazy Lizard—but Carrie had promised him she was more than content to spend the day at the pool and meet him at the Lizard later.
“I need the rest,” she assured him.
He grinned. “Am I wearing you out, angel?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Well, don’t forget the sunscreen. We can’t have you getting burnt.”
She tilted her head slightly, casting a soft smile. “Out of curiosity, are you like Shay? Do you not like tan lines?”
He let his grin widen. “Actually, I love tan lines. I noticed yours from the start—the way they sort of highlight your breasts and pussy.”
“Good. Because I’ll probably have much more defined ones by the end of the day.”
He grinned. “Not that I’d ever discourage you from getting naked on my boat.”
“I’ll remember that.”
He kissed her goodbye and she yelled, “Happy snorkeling!” as he left.
As he made his way home to shower and get ready for the lunch cruise, he realized he was still hard for Carrie. His cock just couldn’t seem to get used to her. He couldn’t recall ever experiencing anything like it.
When the cruise started, he felt thankful he was a baggy shorts kind of guy, given that it was a family activity with plenty of moms and dads and kids on board. He’d worn an extra big shirt, too.
And when he showed up at the Lizard, Shay, who knew him so well, noticed right away, big shirt or not. “That hot little chick has you in perpetual hard-on mode, doesn’t she?” She wore her usual saucy look—she had a way of flirting even as she was being jealous, of delivering every word in a sensuous tone.
“Yep,” he said simply, circling behind the bar.
She met him at the pick-up station with an order. “Two Long Island iced teas and a strawberry margarita. Did you fuck her all night?”
This was starting to get a little out of hand. He loved Shay—she’d been one of his first friends when he’d moved here—but she was starting to worry him a little where Carrie was concerned. “Why?” he asked pointedly. “Are you jealous?”
She responded with a thin-lipped smile. “Maybe.”
“Why?” He tilted his head. “You and I aren’t…” He wiggled a finger back and forth between them. “We’re friends, and we were convenient sex partners once upon a time. Why on earth would you be jealous?”
She swallowed visibly, retaining her always strong, confident expression. “Don’t worry, babe, it’s not like I think you and I are…anything. It’s just that…” Her face went softer, as did her voice. “I’ve never seen you like this. And I’m not sure I like it. It makes me feel…” She rolled her eyes, presumably at her own honesty. “It makes me feel…left out, not important or something.”
He let out a sigh of exasperation. “How the fuck can you possibly feel left out after yesterday?”
She tilted her head, her brown eyes going sad. “I guess I don’t like change much. Never have. I liked knowing you were there if I needed you. For sex or anything else. And even after we stopped fooling around, you never got serious with anyone, so I…I guess I always felt like I was number one in your life, sex or not. Maybe I’m just afraid you won’t be there for me anymore.”
Chris blinked. What was she talking about? “Just where is it you think I’ll be?”
She pursed her lips. “With her.”
It was like a little stab in the heart when he reminded Shay, as well as himself, “She won’t be here very long, Shay. She’s on vacation, remember?”
“I know. I guess you’re right. It’s just a feeling I have, though—like maybe you’ll leave with her or something.”
He shook his head. He was crazy about Carrie, more than he liked to admit, even to himself—but Key West was in his blood and when he’d moved here, he’d known it would be for life. “I’m not going anywhere, so you can relax. Okay?” He added a smile, hoping to snap her out of her maudlin mood. “By the way, she thinks you don’t like her.”
Again she rolled her eyes. “I practically made out with her. What does she want, a love letter?”
He chuckled. Shay, Shay, Shay. She was hard to take sometimes, but Chris knew that deep down she was as vulnerable as anyone—and she’d apparently forgotten she’d just let it show. “Just…be nice to her, okay? She feels like she’s in some sort of competition with you or something, and I could enjoy the memories of our little threesome more if I thought you two could be friends.”
She shrugged. “She’s a bit innocent for my taste, but…I like her fine. Maybe even more than fine, if you want to know the truth. For an innocent chick, she’s not afraid to play, and I dig that. Now make my drinks—I have thirsty customers waiting.”
Chris reached under the bar, grabbing two tall glasses for the Long Islands. When he rose back up, Shay still stood there, but her usual sassy smile had returned. “By the way, if you really thought this was going to be over between you and sweets at the end of the week, you wouldn’t give a shit if she and I could be friends.”
With that, she turned and walked away, her hips swinging back and forth with their usual flirtatious sway.
* * * * *
Carrie walked into the Lazy Lizard ready to knock Chris’s socks off. Somehow, every worry, every doubt, every leftover concept from her life before him, had faded with their lovemaking last night and she was feeling wilder than ever and ready for action. She wasn’t going to think about the future—tonight, only the here and now mattered. He’d shown her that good girls could be bad without repercussions and that she didn’t have to be such an angel to win his affections, so tonight she planned on living it up.
They made eye contact as soon as she entered the open-air bar, and she gave him a flirtatious smile as he watched her approach. “Hey, bartender,” she said, climbing up on an empty stool.
Leaning over the bar, he gave her a short but hot kiss hello, his tongue meeting hers. His grin told her he knew what she was up to, trying to surprise him with her outfit. “Very sexy look, angel. But I’m not sure I can call you ‘angel’ anymore.” His gaze glittered with unconcealed lust.
She wore a sexy black lace camisole, see-through except for the lined cups that held her breasts, with thin shoulder straps and a deep plunge in the center for lots of cleavage. It was technically underwear, but Carrie had decided to be daring and make it outerwear instead. Beneath her tight black mini, a garter belt hooked to fishnet stockings she’d bought a couple of hours ago at the same sexy clothing shop where she’d purchased her high-heeled black leather boots. She was dressed for sin.
“Oh, you can call me angel,” she told him playfully. “But now it’ll just be one of those little ironies, like when somebody nicknames a fat guy Slim or a tall man Shorty.”
He chuckled, reaching over the bar to take her hands in his. “Listen, I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice low.
She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Don’t kill me, but…” He glanced toward Shay, currently delivering drinks to a table full of college-aged guys. Tonight she wore a stretchy-looking skin-tight red miniskirt, a little white tank top, and what Carrie thought of as stripper shoes—tall, red, strappy platform heels. “Shay wants to hang out with us tonight. And as luck would hav
e it, we’re working the same shift, so she gets off at the same time I do.”
“Well—”
“But the reason I didn’t turn her down,” he said before she could reply, “is because she wants to make nice with you.”
Carrie laughed. “I was going to say that I don’t mind at all. Whatever you want to do tonight is good for me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So this is my reward for giving you all those screaming orgasms?”
“Something like that.” She glanced at Shay again, now able to make out that she wore no bra beneath her fitted tank, and that it said pussycat across her chest in red. “But, uh, what do you mean, she wants to make nice?”
“Well, she actually thinks you’re pretty cool, when she’s not busy sharpening her claws in front of you.” He winked.
“Yeah, that pussycat shirt fits in more ways than one, doesn’t it?”
“Turns out we were right and she was sort of jealous, but I think she’s over it now, and I’d love for you two to like each other.”
The sentiment touched her, and she refused to let herself to even begin wondering why it mattered if his fling liked his friend, what that implied. “Like I said, I’m up for anything tonight.” And she did mean anything. Her pussy—bare beneath her short skirt since she’d decided to surprise Chris by wearing no panties—tingled with anticipation, wondering what a night on the town in Key West might hold.
Just then, Shay approached, plopped her drink tray on the bar, and slid her arm around Carrie’s waist, leaning in close. “Hey sweets, would you mind if I hung out with you and Chris for awhile tonight?” To Carrie’s surprise, her flirtation lacked its usual hint of insolence.
Also to her surprise, it suddenly made Shay’s company a lot more appealing, even as wild and unpredictable as she was. “I just told Chris that sounds like fun.”
Key West Page 16
