* * * * *
“What a funky little place,” Carrie said as she perused the breakfast menu at Blue Heaven, one of Chris’s favorite out-of-the-way Key West eateries, on Saturday morning.
He’d known she’d enjoy it—it was a one-of-a-kind place where the tables set under trees draped with sails to provide shade, chickens ran beneath your feet while you ate, and a huge rope swing gave kids something fun to do. “Glad you like it, angel.”
“So you recommend the pancakes, huh?”
Having promised they were good, he nodded. “Filling, but that’s okay, because I intend to wear you out today, so eat up.”
She raised her eyebrows playfully over the menu. “Is that so?”
He laughed. “I didn’t even mean sex, believe it or not, although I’m sure we’ll work in some of that, too.” He was taking her to the beach, which, on Key West, wasn’t the hottest attraction if you weren’t a local. Even though the island had several beaches to choose from, people came for the nightlife and the snorkeling. And despite the fact that he’d been all for a threesome with Scott yesterday afternoon, on this, their last day together, he wanted it to be him and her, alone.
God, she looked beautiful sitting next to him, her bikini top hugging her gorgeous breasts, her smile lighting him up inside.
An hour later, when they were both stuffed with pancakes, they hopped on his motorcycle and headed to the island’s southeastern shore, his angel’s black sarong flapping in the wind around her thighs. It felt so good to have her wrapped around him from behind—too good, he thought. He’d put off thinking about her departure tomorrow, but it was getting hard to avoid it. He’d only had her for a week, but he feared life without her was suddenly going to seem damn empty.
He didn’t like admitting that—part of uprooting his life and moving to Key West had been a firm decision toward permanent bachelorhood. The hurtful breakup he’d experienced before moving had taught him not to get attached to women, and Key West had seemed the perfect place to let them flit in and out of his life without a care, not to mention the perfect place to grow old without missing that sort of companionship. He’d been utterly content with that decision since the day he’d made it—until now.
Not that he thought he wanted to marry Carrie—God, she’d come here on the rebound from “the marriage that wasn’t,” and they’d really just met.
But it didn’t feel that way. Not at all.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted—but the one thing he knew for certain was that it didn’t really matter, because she had another life somewhere else and she was going back to it first thing tomorrow morning.
So as he eased his bike into a parking spot along the street lining the beach, he reminded himself to concentrate on today, because that was all they really had.
* * * * *
As the day passed, Carrie felt herself falling harder and harder for Chris. Maybe it was knowing she was leaving tomorrow, or maybe it was the way they managed to have fun whether they were having wild sex or just sitting and talking, or doing anything in between.
Chris had packed a beach blanket, on which they shared an afternoon feast of hamburgers, fries, and sodas, purchased from a vendor on the street. Funny how being in love could make the simplest of meals exciting and delicious. She relished every greasy bite of hamburger, enjoyed every French fry.
Being in love? Was that what she was with Chris? In love with him?
She pulled in her breath and took a sip of her drink, trying to swallow the thought along with the beverage. Shyly, she peeked up at him, thinking, wondering. Then finally, she sighed. God, yes, she was in love with him. What else could have driven her to be so wild this past week? What else could have brought the bad girl inside her to the surface so easily? She’d never believed in love at first sight, but suddenly, she did. She’d loved Chris almost from the moment she’d set eyes on him.
“What are you staring at? Do I have mustard on my face or something?”
She flinched, then laughed. “No. I was just…you know, feeling a little sad that I’m going home tomorrow.”
Glancing down, he reached out to gently squeeze her thigh. “I’m sad about that, too, angel. But at least we have today, and tonight.”
She nodded, realizing she couldn’t let sadness mar their last day together. There’d be plenty of time for that later.
After eating, they stretched out on the blanket and let their bodies soak in the sun. Given that this was probably the first time she’d spent a whole day in the sun with him without taking her top off, it occurred to her she’d probably have some serious tan lines around her breasts by tomorrow. She almost mentioned that he could look forward to that, but then remembered he actually couldn’t—so she kept it to herself.
Even so, though, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, so she rolled to her side, ran her palm over his washboard stomach, and began kissing his neck. His skin felt so good beneath her fingers, her lips. “I want to fuck you,” she whispered in his ear.
She knew she wore a sexy smile when he turned to look at her. He grinned in return. “We’re on the beach, baby.”
She sat up slightly and looked around. “We’re mostly alone.”
He laughed. “You know I’m up for fucking you anytime, anywhere, but I don’t want you to get arrested on your last day here.”
“We’d get arrested? I thought you could do anything here?”
“At night, yeah, pretty much. The daytime is different.”
Glancing down the beach, she spotted two young teenage boys flying a Frisbee back and forth, their family lounging around a beach umbrella. She let out a sigh of defeat, but couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his cock through his trunks. She found him partially aroused.
He grinned up at her as he lay back, hands behind his head. “That, however, I’ll allow.”
She giggled, then continued her caress, her pussy beginning to tingle at the feel of his hardening shaft beneath her hand. But the harder he got, the less amused she became. By the time he felt like a solid stone column, her breath had gone shallow, and she was dying to have her way with him
Wanting to go further, she looked up and down the beach once more. There were plenty of people in the far distance, but this stretch of sand was truly their own. The Frisbee boys and their family were the closest, but she didn’t think they’d really notice if she just gave him a little more pleasure. Being in broad daylight in a place where she knew she shouldn’t indulge herself only added to the pulsing in her pussy.
Pausing her caresses, she reached up to untie the drawstring at his waist, hidden beneath his erection now. Then she eased the fabric up over the head of his cock and down, baring him to the sun and her hungry eyes. Hearing his sigh, she whispered, “You have the hottest cock, baby. I could come just looking at it.”
His eyes opened softly and she saw lust mixed with his gentle admonition. “You can’t do this here, angel.”
She only licked her lips, letting her eyes glaze with heat. “I’m going to anyway.”
He lowered his chin lightly, as if to deliver a further warning, but before he had the chance, she licked his cock from base to tip.
“Damn,” he whispered.
After taking another glance up and down the shore, she lowered her lips down over his erection. As always, he filled her mouth to overflowing—the sensation more fulfilling than she could understand. She slid up and down his shaft in a hot, steady rhythm, listening with pleasure as his breath grew heavy. Wishing she could take more of his incredible length inside, she decided to compensate, pressing her breasts around the lower part of his cock while she sucked the head and the few inches below. He slid slick against her sunscreen, and his low moans let her know how good it felt. She worked his hard-on more vigorously as each second passed, aroused by everything—the sun and sand, the slickness of her skin, the silk over steel of his cock, the knowledge that just beyond the palm trees and low dunes, vendors sold hotdogs and sunglasses, and cars sped past
on the street.
God, she wanted him to come. She wanted to make him come more than she’d ever wanted it before. She sank deeper and deeper into her task, lost in the heat of him filling her mouth and pressing hard against her soft breasts, almost forgetting they were in public where anyone could come upon them, when finally he said, “Now, baby,” and released a giant groan as she pulled her mouth away because she wanted to see it happen, wanted to feel his hot juices spatter her skin.
She gripped his cock as he came, letting him spray her belly and chest. Her head fell back in pleasure as the warm fluid turned her wet, and when she glanced down, Chris was reaching for her. She leaned toward him and he began to massage the white semen into her breasts, pushing his fingers beneath her leopard triangles to rub it into her nipples.
Through his post-orgasmic fog, he smiled. “When the hell did you get so good at being a bad girl?”
She smiled. “Well, it all started when I met this sexy guy selling cruise tickets. He totally corrupted me.”
“Sounds like my kinda guy,” he said with a wink.
* * * * *
Chris had known he’d have a good time with her at the beach, but he hadn’t known she’d suck him off right there where anyone could see. The unexpectedness of it, and the fact that it had come from Carrie—his angel—made it rival all their other hot encounters in the past week.
Once they’d both rested, he drew her into the water where they alternated between kissing and splashing. When tall waves rolled in, he picked her up and sent her vaulting over them until it became a game.
Hours passed with them going in and out of the water, walking to the street to buy ice cream, resting in the sun on the blanket. He also made sure he reapplied her sunscreen often—not only because he didn’t want her to burn, but because there were so many lovely curves and crevices to be covered.
When the sun began to sink lower in the sky and the vendors and other beachgoers packed up for the day, Chris and Carrie remained, sharing the tropical sunset, holding hands, laughing.
As they walked up the beach, hand in hand, she told him more about her family, and about her bookstore. As far as he could tell, they were the two things she held dearest. He shared more with her about his decision to head south—including the bad breakup that had occurred beforehand—and his hopes that in another five years he’d have made enough money with his boat to buy a quaint clapboard of his own on a quiet Key West street.
Without warning, she turned to him and said, “Thank you for helping me experience all this.”
Despite the abrupt change in subject, he didn’t need to ask what she meant. He only smiled, tilted his head, and said, “So, is there anything you’d like to try that you didn’t get to? Last call for kinky sex,” he teased.
Stopping to look up at him, she took his hands in hers. “Actually, yes, there is something.”
He raised his eyebrows in question, encouraging her to go on.
“Ever since we were snorkeling and you were touching me in the water,” she said, “I’ve wanted to fuck you in the ocean.”
Chapter Fourteen
As if it were meant to be, the waves had calmed with the setting sun, turning to soft ripples on the water that washed in quietly but for their final rush onto the beach.
Chris and Carrie stood waist-deep, their toes in the sand, their wet bodies embracing as they kissed. God, he couldn’t believe this might be the last time he’d have her. Maybe they’d do it again later, back in her room or somewhere else, yet inside him, this felt final, and brutal, like something he needed more than food, water, air.
Their kisses were slow and soft as he concentrated on tasting every nuance of her. He ran his hands over her shoulders and back, her waist and breasts, trying to memorize her body, trying to somehow make it be enough. I love you. Like once before, the words drifted through his head and nearly escaped his mouth—but no, same as every time he’d had such tender thoughts, he knew speaking them aloud was only asking for a more difficult goodbye.
Even so, he hoped she could feel his emotions in his kiss, his touch. As he massaged one of her breasts, full in his hand, he relished her trembling breath, thinking she was reacting as if he’d never touched her before, as if it were the first time. “God, I want you,” he breathed in her ear. She pressed her body against his, tight, wrapping her arms around his back, and they stood that way, the water washing gently around them, his hard-on pressed against her soft pussy through their suits.
Reaching behind her, he untied the back of her top, then drew it over her head, looping the still-tied neck string over his arm for safekeeping. Looking down on the beauty of her bare breasts, outlined by her tan, he closed his hands over them, squeezing, massaging, her soft sighs like a sensual symphony. He bent to taste one turgid pink nipple, moist from water play, suckling it deep into his mouth, relishing the way it grew harder the longer he sucked. Above him, she held his head, whimpered and groaned, and made him harder, too.
As if sensing it, she reached down to rub his cock—full and erect and trapped beneath wet fabric. “Need to have you in me, baby,” she purred, and though part of him wanted to draw this out and make it last, he couldn’t bear to wait, either. They’d had so many different kinds of sex this week, but the old-fashioned way, him in her, was the best. They’d worked so hard to open her pussy to him, and when he’d finally managed to get inside her warm, tight passage, he’d never wanted to leave.
While she untied his trunks and pushed them to his thighs, he hooked his thumbs in her bikini bottoms and drew them down, as well. Once she had them off, he looped them over his arm, too.
Her fist closed around his column of steel beneath the water’s surface just as his fingers sank into her cunt. She moved against them, sighing, appearing lost in lust, a look he would miss because he had a feeling she’d never worn it with anyone but him, and he couldn’t help wondering who she’d wear it for next, back in her other life. With Shay, with Scott, somehow it had all been for him, he knew—but after tonight, all that changed.
“Love to rub your sweet little pussy,” he whispered in her ear.
The words brought a sensual smile to her lips and made her push her mound harder against his hand.
“Love how soft and smooth it feels, angel.”
She looked into his eyes. “You made it that way.”
“You let me.”
Will you keep it that way after you go home? Will you keep it that way for other lovers? He bit his tongue and held the questions in—the answers didn’t matter because he’d never know.
“Fuck me,” she whispered, her voice as soft as any angel’s. “Fuck me, slow and deep.”
Closing his hands over her soft, round ass, he lifted her, her legs curling around his hips, her warm cunt sinking wetly down onto him in a smooth, leisurely entry. “My cock goes into your pussy so easy now,” he cooed as she sank to the hilt, moaning with pleasure. “Did you ever think you’d have a cock so big inside you, angel?”
Her smile bordered between sultry and sweet. “I never dreamed it,” she said as they began to move against one another in slow, deep strokes. “But you surpassed even my dreams.”
He couldn’t resist kissing her, tasting her tongue with his, nibbling softly at her tender berry-colored lips, all while he eased his shaft in and out, in and out—slow, deep, slower, deeper. Each time he reached full immersion, she closed her eyes, looking profoundly pleasured. “How does it feel?” he whispered.
“My body is so full with you, I can’t even describe it.”
It was the slowest, gentlest sex they’d ever had—and Chris couldn’t recall a time in his life when he’d been more deeply aroused, more sated by each and every slide of his cock into her tight little cunt.
He squeezed her ass as they continued the slow, drawn-out ocean sex, soon splaying his fingers wider, letting both of his middle fingers seek her other tiny opening. When they raked over her anus, he molded her ass slow and tight, drawing on the skin at the c
enter, stimulating the hot little fissure.
She moaned, her breath trembling. “Start that and this won’t go slow anymore.”
He smiled. It was a grand dilemma—whether to fuck slow and steamy or hot and hard. “Much as I’d like to, we can’t go slow forever.” He reached for the aperture once more, pulling tighter this time as he squeezed and curled his fingers inward.
Another hot groan escaped her. “God, that’s brutally good,” she growled.
Her very tone, hot and animalistic, drew a low moan from his gut and made him thrust harder into her. She let out a cry of pleasure.
“I want to make you scream,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I want to make you come so fucking hard. I want to give you a pleasure you’ll never forget.”
“You’ve already done that, over and over again.” A sexy smile broke through the heated passion on her face. “But don’t let that stop you.”
As he drove his cock hard into her pussy, he reached once more for her asshole, but this time, he thrust the tips of both middle fingers inside. She sobbed with the shock of it, although he knew the near-agony on her face was actually deep, unexpected pleasure.
“I love your tight little ass, baby,” he rasped, driving his erection deep into her.
She moaned and met the lunge, her ass sinking farther onto his fingers.
After that, there was simply no going slow—her body wouldn’t allow it. Locking her legs full around his waist, she rode him, writhing her clit against his belly, her asshole against his fingers, which he thrust in time with each stroke of his cock. She cried out desperately with each hot entry and her sounds of pleasure took him closer and closer to ecstasy.
He fucked her so hard that he couldn’t speak anymore—could only groan with each deep ram into her hungry cunt. Her cries came high and lost-sounding as she rode him harder and harder, fucking him more and more wildly.
They writhed together in fierce, untamed sex, struggling against one another in the water, their movements creating small splashes, her hot groans filling him as much as his shaft filled her pussy. Drawing one finger from her ass, he thrust the remaining one in deeper, as deep as it would go, and she thrashed even harder, harder, until he spat through gritted teeth, “Come! Come for me!”
Key West Page 26
