The Jezebel

by Dylan Allen

  I follow the girl, who introduces herself as Riley, to her private campground, which happens to be the one right before ours. She talks the whole way, she and her sister flew to Cabo from Silver Spring, Maryland and are on a road trip that’ll take them all the way back home.

  It takes less than five minutes to help them fix their tent flap and when Riley invites me to stay for a shot of the tequila she and her sister bought from some place that’s supposed to be legendary, I don’t say no.

  Her sister is starting medical school in the fall and when I tell her I’m in the middle of my fellowship, she peppers me with questions I’m happy to answer.

  By the time I leave their tent to make the short walk to our tent., it’s almost midnight. I’ve had enough tequila that I’m in a good mood again.

  The light glow from inside alerts me to Regan’s presence. A flash of memory from the glimpse I had of her - teeth flashing, hair flying like a flock of ribbons, her hands in someone else’s - eviscerates my tequila induced enthusiasm. Nerves and uncertainty send my skittering, and I hold my breath as I pull back the flap and peek inside.

  She’s laying on one of the plushily dressed twin sized beds in our tent. Her legs are crossed at the ankles and propped on a stack of the blue throw pillows. I stare at the bare soles of her slim feet. They’re the only part of her body I’ve never seen and just like the rest of her, I find them remarkably well formed. A dusting of white sand clings to her heels and toes, but her high delicate arches are clean and smooth.

  I walk to stand next to her. My eyes trace the outline of her long legs under the clinging floral patterned fabric of her dress, the curve of her hips, the delicate, ringless hands that rest on her flat stomach, the swell of her breasts, the small dark mole that sits in the hollow of her left collarbone calls me name.

  I bite my lip to hold back a groan and reach down to turn off the small solar lamp on the table beside her bed.

  “Don’t.” Her hand covers mine, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

  “Shit. I thought you were asleep.” I say, dumbly.

  “I bet you did.” Her voice is flat, and she studiously avoids meeting my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, taking a step back to avoid being whacked by her legs as she swings them over the side of the bed.

  “I’m going to take shower,” she announces. Without any warning, she pulls her dress straps down and tugs it off her body. She’s completely naked underneath it.

  I think about all of those old men who touched her tonight, and see red.

  “Were you like this… all night?” I ask, my voice tight with irritation.

  “Yup,” she chirps and then bends over to rifle in her bag giving me a full view of her naked ass and the lush dusky flesh between her legs.

  “Regan, what are you doing?” I growl.

  She stands with her light pink silk robe in one hand a bemused frown on her face. “Oh, I figured since you’d seen it all before you wouldn’t mind. Sorry.” Her voice is clipped with irritation. She slips the robe on strides toward the front of the tent.

  “Regan--”

  “Don’t wait up,” she calls just before she disappears through the flaps.

  I sit on my bed, feeling like I just got hit in the head with a two by four. What the hell just happened and why the hell is she mad at me?

  A few seconds later, the sun shower that’s right to our tent comes on. For five torturous minutes, I listen to the sounds of water splashing and imagine her hands moving over all the places I want to touch.

  When the shower cuts off, I pick up my book and pretend to read. When she walks back into the tent, I manage a casual, “How was the water?”

  “Hot,” she sighs with deep satisfaction and it takes all my willpower not to look at her. The flutter of fabric my periphery draws my gaze to her. But I keep my eyes on the floor where her discarded towel lies in a sodden heap at her feet.

  Only when she turns so I’m looking at her heels instead of her pretty pink -painted toes, do I let my gaze roam up.

  Her pink silk robe is belted tightly around her body. Before I can appreciate the way it hugs her still wet skin, she loosens the belt and shrugs it off. It slides down her lean, graceful back in a torturously slow unveiling of her delectable figure.

  It molds to the curve of her hips and ass, right below then the twin dimples at the base of her spine and the tattoo that sits in between them. It hangs there for a few seconds before gravity flexes its muscle and the rest of her body is revealed.

  When she bends over to pick up a bottle of lotion from her bed, I want to howl from the effort it’s taking not to reach for her.

  And, as addled as my brain may be, I know better than to even try it. So, I close my eyes.

  But it’s no good. The scent of lemon fills the tent. The whisper of her hands sliding over her bare skin only makes the torrid images in my mind more vivid. I imagine her fingers gliding over her jutting dark nipples, cupping her supple round breasts, sliding between her thighs, running over her shoulders, smoothing the rest of the lotion over the curve of her neck… By the time my fevered imagination has worked its way over her body, my balls are aching.

  I open my eyes just as she steps into a pair of white lace panties and pulls a white tank top over her head.

  She turns around, and I look back at my book, staring unseeingly while I pretend not to feel her eyes on me.

  “Thank you for today. It’s the best day I can remember having, ever,” she says quietly before she dims her lamp and climbs into her bed.

  I lay in the dark, hard as a rock and confused as hell. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I know that I’m blowing this, badly.

  “Uh, you know… I-- I’m going for a swim,” I say, hop up, and hustle out of the tent. I pretend not to hear her call my name and ignore my impulse to answer her. I need distance and I need to get rid of this erection so that I can fucking think.

  I wade until the water reaches my waist, and then dive, headfirst, into the waves. The water is cool and calm, and I cut through it quickly, pushing myself until my shoulders ache before I turn back to swim for shore. When the water is shallow enough, I stand and face the horizon and try to catch my breath.

  The exercise didn’t do a thing about the boner in my shorts. I slip my hand past my waist band, fist my aching dick, and groan at the first stroke. It feels good, but there’s no relief in it. This should be Regan’s hand, or mouth or pussy. I don’t know how I managed to blow things so badly.

  “Stone!” Her shout carries over the wind and my heart nearly jumps out my chest. I yank my hand out of my shorts before I turn toward the beach.

  She’s right at the water’s edge, sitting close enough that the tide laps at her shins. She’s resting her chin on her knees, her head cocked to the side. From this distance, I can’t make out her face, and I hope she couldn’t tell what I was doing.

  The thought is humiliating enough to do what my swim couldn’t. By the time I reach the shore, my dick is as limp as the clumps of seaweed that dot the beach.

  I drop down on the sand next to her, prop my body up on my elbows and drop my head back to stare up at the dark purple sky and try to order my thoughts.

  Neither of us say anything as we sit, stuck in whatever quagmire of misunderstanding we’ve found ourselves in.

  “The moon looks like a pearl sitting on a throne of diamonds, doesn’t it?” She says, her pensive voice breaking the silence after a few minutes.

  I follow her gaze to the horizon. The moon is low and glowing and the glittering stars that spangle the sky around it, do look like a congregation of courtiers paying homage to their sovereign. But if we’re going to talk, it’s not going to be about the fucking sky.

  “You called me back, are you okay?” I ask, my patience fraying badly.

  “Why did you ask me to come with you?” There’s a gravity in her husky voice that belies her casual tone and matter of fact inflection.

  “Why are you asking me a
question you know the answer to?”

  “Humor me,” her voice is clipped.

  I sit up, but keep my eyes facing forward. “Because, you needed to get away.”

  “I see.” Her voice is barely audible, but the hurt in it resounds.

  I turn to look at her.

  Her jaw is clenched tight and her throat works as if she’s swallowing down something thick and dry.

  “Regan, what’s wrong?”

  “Why don’t you want me anymore?”

  Her question is as shocking as an ice bath after a hot shower. I stare at her, dumbfounded for a few seconds.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growl and stand up.

  “Where are you going?” she gazes up at me from her perch in the sand.

  “Nowhere, come on,” I stick my hand out to help her up, too.

  “Okay,” she drawls before taking my offered hand and rising to her feet.

  I let go of her hand, and peer at her, trying to see if she’s serious. Until I see the frustration I’m feeling mirrored in her dark eyes.

  I lay a hand on her neck, and she sighs in pleasure, but that hurt expression is still there. “I’m going to forgive you for asking me that because I can tell something is wrong. But you have to know, that me not wanting…that’s not a thing that could be.”

  Her eyes snap open, the sadness and confusion is gone, and she glares daggers at me. “I practically waved my pussy in your face just now, and you didn’t even look up from your damn book,” she snaps, and arches her neck to evade my grasp.

  “Oh, I looked…but you took your dress off to shower. I would never presume you wanted—"

  “Did that girl you walked away with, the one you were helping with her flaps,” she puts air quotes around the last word, “did you presume she wanted you to stay and hang out or did she ask you to?”

  Her jealousy, misguided as it is, is delicious.

  I frown in feigned bemusement. “Hmmmm, I’m surprised you noticed given how engrossed you were with your harem of geriatric perverts.”

  Her lips curl into a scowl. “I was trying to have fun. You turned into a moody grinch as soon as we got here, and then you left me to go off with your little band of man stealing whores.”

  I laugh out loud.

  “It’s not funny, I walked right past their tent and I could hear you talking, them laughing,” she snaps and arches her neck to pull away from me. I slide my fingers into the damp tangle of hair at her nape and hold her still.

  I lean in and draw in a lungful sea salt and citrus and press my lips to her ear. “I don’t even remember their names. I only ever see you.”

  “Stone,” my name leaves her lips on a gust of warm breath, and my body responds to the plea in it, but I need to hear her say it. My fingers fist around her hair and I tilt her face up to mine.

  “Tell me what you want, Goddess.” Her eyes glimmer like twin stars set into the beautiful moonlit face that I always find poetry in.

  She slides her arms up my shoulders and lifts onto her toes so that her lips are scant inches from mine. “I want you to touch me. I want your hands on me. I want your mouth on me. I want your dick in me. I want to sleep in, swim, eat, and squeeze every last drop of joy and happy out of the time we have here. I want you. So badly. No one but you. Is that clear enough?”

  I almost come on the spot.

  No rush of adrenaline I’ve ever felt can compare to the sweet, dizzying thrill of finally catching my Venus.

  “Perfectly.” I drop a kiss on her mouth and then step back so I can see her entire body.

  I catch the hem of her tank top and drag it up slowly to reveal the velvet soft skin of her stomach, then the rounded underside of her breast. And up until I pull it over her head.

  “You are spectacular.” I cup the warm weight of her full breasts and stroke her stiff nipples with the pads of my thumb.

  Her breath hitches, but she stands perfectly still, letting me do what I will. And I intend to.

  “Where shall I kiss you first?” I ask. My heart thuds in anticipation and my insides coil tight like a bow drawn and ready to fly while I wait for her to speak.

  “My neck,” she says after a beat and arches her throat for me.

  I drop my head and open my mouth on the spot where her neck meets her jaw and press my tongue against the pulse that races there.

  Her citrus scent mingles with the moonlight and salt tinged air and she tastes like perfection. The slow march to seduction I planned takes its last breath. My restraint goes up in the blaze of heat. I lick, graze devour like the frenzied, insatiable, greedy beast she alone turns me into.

  I dip my head, drop kisses down her throat, her chest, nibble the soft swell of her breasts finally pull that sweet, plump nipple into my hot mouth. Her back bows and she lets out a ragged little moan. Her hands delve into my hair and she bucks her hips.

  I suck even harder and find her other breast with my free hand and pinch that nipple, hard.

  She goes wild.

  Her hands, her mouth, are fevered and frantic as they move over my face, my shoulders, my back. She’s scrambling against me, like I’m a tree she’s trying to climb.

  Her arms twine around my neck and she moans, “Please kiss me,” in my ear.

  Our lips crash together like meteors that were destined to collide. Her mouth is hot, and sweet. Her tongue - bold and hungry as it slides against mine.

  I walk us toward the tent, kissing her like my life depends on it. I lose my footing and we fall. We land on the soft, gritty ground, that could be a cloud for all I feel it.

  All of my senses have melded into one that only knows the fragrance, flavor, and feel of Regan.

  We lay face to face, our breaths mingling, our eyes supernovas burning with lust and locked on each other.

  I run the tips of my fingers over her face, tracing her cheekbones, her broad, full mouth, the pert slope of her nose, the sweeping wing of her brows -augmenting and updating those age-old memories with this new one. When my finger slides into her hair, she moans and closes her eyes.

  I cradle her head and hold her in place while I pull my shorts down. I reach between us to push her panties aside and slide two fingers between her lips. She’s softer, hotter, readier than I could have imagined.

  “Regan, dammit, you’re so wet,” I groan into her mouth and her thighs part and make room for my conquering hips as I plunge into her without another word.

  “Stone,” she moans. Every single syllable is imbued with pleasure. I rock into her, never pulling out fully. Now that I’m inside her, I can’t bear to leave. Not even for a second.

  With an impressive show of strength, she rolls us to my back, her hand pressed to my chest while she rides me. Like a warrior who just saddled her latest conquest, her dark eyes glitter with exhilaration and lust as she takes her pleasure.

  “Yes…Stone, yes…” she calls my name over and over as she starts to fall apart.

  I thrust up hard and pull her hips down. The rhythmic clenching of her orgasm sends me over the edge.

  We collapse in a heap of sweat and sand, panting and groaning until my dick softens and slips out of her.

  When I can finally muster the strength, I gather her in my arms and carry her to the shower. We rinse all the sand off, stumble back to our tent, and collapse onto my bed.

  I lay in bed with her until she’s asleep to slip outside to set up the telescope. I hurry back to bed, wrap my arms around her and fall into a dreamless sleep.

  Venus And Mars

  Stone

  I wake with a start, slapping away whatever is buzzing by my side. My hands brush my cell phone, and I turn off the alarm and squint at my phone and see nothing but a blur. I forgot that I took my contact lenses out last night because the sand wreaks havoc on them.

  I grope for the glasses I only wear first thing in the morning. I slip them on and check the time. It’s only 4:30. I lay back for a few minutes. I have two more alarms set for 5:00 and 5:30, but I won’t
need them.

  I’m too excited to sleep.

  This is the entire reason I planned this three -day trip. For the next couple of days Venus will be visible in the morning sky.

  My desire to see this rare sight has only one rival for my attention. And she’s lying next to me. I wasn’t going to wake her. Most people could care less about this shit. But now I want her by my side when I see it; And, I want her to see it, too.

  “Wake up.” I nudge Regan with my foot and switch on the lamp beside the twin bed we’re sharing.

  “What? What’s wrong?” she asks only barely coherent as she pushes tangled locks of hair out of her face and peers around the tent.

  “Nothing’s wrong, I want you to see something,” I assure her.

  “We just went to sleep,” she groans and covers her head with the sheet.

  “No, we didn’t. And you have to get up.” I pull it back down.

  “The sun’s not even up,” she glares at me and snatches the covers back over her.

  “That’s the whole point.” I nudge her shoulder.

  “I’ll pass,” she snuggles deeper into the bed.

  “Fine, but you’re going to miss one of the galaxy’s most underrated party tricks.” I slip my arm from under her and sit up. I glance over my shoulder. “And of course, there’ll be sex at sunrise.”

  “You should have led with that,” she quips and throws the covers off revealing a vision more beautiful than any fantasy I’ve ever conjured. My throat feels tight and my balls ache just looking at her. She crawls out of bed and slips a pair of cut shorts and her tank top on. We walk hand in hand out onto the soft white sand beach.

  Like my companion this morning, the predawn sky is too beautiful to be real. It covers us like a blanket of indigo and sapphire. Out here, with no artificial light to disrupt them, the stars look like a million jewels sewn into a velvet canvas.

  The moon is low and so bright that its reflection turns the sea below it into a mirror of liquid silver. The water laps at the shore in gentle licks and it feels like we’re standing on a planet that’s part of the solar system, and not just a beach in Mexico.