Honeymoon Rebound

by Eddie Cleveland

  Cohen tilts up my chin, claiming my lips with tender, unhurried kisses. His mouth leaves mine lonely and wanting more as he kisses a trail down to my breast. He cups it in his hand and pulls my nipple into his mouth. Both of their cocks are so thick, so tempting. I circle my hands around each of them but my body aches for so much more.

  “What do you want us to do to you?” Finn murmurs in my ear. A moment of shyness flushes through me when I realize what I want. I’m not going to let it tie my tongue though, this is my time, I’m allowed to want them, both of them, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

  “I want to feel both of you at the same time,” I whisper.

  “Yeah? You want us both to fuck you?” Finn asks.

  I let my imagination run wild, but I know I’m not ready for that. At least not yet. “No, I want to suck you off,” I run my finger down Cohen’s chest and over his abs until I reach his cock. I circle it between my fingers and thumb and give his shaft a squeeze before I jerk him off slowly.

  “Mmm, get down on your knees, Joss,” his voice is strained with need.

  “And I want you to fuck me while I do it,” I turn my head toward Finn.

  “You get started with him, I’ll be right back,” Finn answers and walks over to the pile of clothes we left on the beach, rummaging through them.

  I ease down until I’m kneeling in front of Cohen’s thick, pulsing cock. Licking my lips, I can’t hide how much I want to taste him. I lick the precum from the tip and slide my lips down around his thickness. Cohen threads his fingers in my hair, thrusting his hips forward until his cock fills my mouth fully and then pulls back a bit.

  Finn comes back with a distinctive wrapper in his hand, his other hand rolls the condom down his shaft, securing it at the base. He kneels behind me, kissing my neck and guiding me forward, pressing gently but persistently between my shoulder blades until I’m in the sand on my hands and knees. Cohen’s cock flies out of my mouth, but he brings it back to my lips and I open wide, taking as much of him as I possibly can.

  “Yeah, baby, just like that,” he moans.

  Behind me, Finn slips his cock up to my wet pussy, sliding it up and down in my juices before he presses the tip to my entrance. He opens me slowly, taking his time with it, filling me up until he’s fully inside me, stretching me in the best way possible while Cohen’s cock is warm on my tongue, filling my mouth.

  I thrust back against Finn and he slaps my ass hard. I yelp out in surprise but manage to keep Cohen’s cock in my mouth.

  “Don’t be so greedy, sweetheart, good things come to those who wait,” he growls in my ear and fills me with a thrust of his cock at the same time as Cohen. They both overtake me, my pussy being stretched out by Finn and my mouth barely able to take as much as Cohen is giving me. The sand is soft under my hands and knees, but there’s nothing soft about them. I bounce slightly back and forth between them as we figure out this new dance. Finn grabs my hips and pumps his cock into me faster and harder. My wet pussy clenches him, squeezing his thick shaft as my cheeks hollow and I suck Cohen’s cock like it’s giving me life.

  “Damn, you’re so tight,” Finn fucks me like he’s staking claim. His thrusts are hard and our bodies sound like flip flops snapping between feet and the pavement.

  “Oh fuck,” Cohen holds my head steady and slides his cock deep into my mouth, “I’m gonna nut,” he grunts as his warm cum fills my cheeks and his cock twitches on my tongue. I swallow it all, every last drop and even suck on him a bit longer, hoping there’s even more I can take but he pulls back, sliding free from my lips. “I think I need a minute,” he stumbles backward and sits down in the sand.

  Finn grabs my shoulders with one hand and snakes his other hand around my hip, leaning over me, into me, until his fingers delve between my wet slit and find my clit. His body curls around mine, surrounding me, cocooning me. His finger rubs my sensitive nub with just enough pressure to make me cry out as another orgasm shreds through me. My body quivers and my pussy clamps down even more on his thick cock. Finn fills me up, owning me, until he lets out a growl and I feel his cum fill the condom between us.

  He moves back, slowly pulling out of me, carefully holding the edge of the condom until he’s free. I crawl forward and lie beside Cohen, my head on the crook of his arm, he pulls me into him and we stare up at the stars. A moment later, Finn lies down on the other side of me, lifts my hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

  “Well?” He asks.

  “I never knew sex could be that good,” I bask in their warmth, loving how their heat wraps up around me like a blanket.

  “That was easily the hottest, most amazing blow job I’ve ever had,” Cohen’s voice is raspy and a little dreamy.

  I tell myself that we can’t fall asleep here. Not like this, but I don’t want to move. Lying here, between Cohen and Finn, I feel like there’s nothing in the world that matters besides this. Besides us. I know when this passes the real world and all of its annoying problems will be there to face, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, as my eyes drift closed and these two sexy men flank each side of me, this is everything.

  23

  Joss

  The big chairs at the hotel salon are like a big, soft hug. Benji and I settle into them and dip our feet into the warm, citrus-smelling water tubs for our couples pedicure. I glance down at my fingernails, already sparkling in a light pink hue. It reminds me of apple blossoms in the spring. Benji opted for a simple trim and buff on his nails, but they still look great.

  “I can’t believe our stay is half over.” I pout. “It’s going by too fast.”

  “Well, you know what they say, time flies …”

  “I know, time flies when you’re having fun,” I answer glumly.

  “Yeah, I was going to say time flies when you’re being banged like a screen door in a hurricane, but yours works too.” He gives me a sly smile.

  I can’t help but laugh, but it’s short lived. The sadness over leaving this all behind creeps back up on me and settles in my chest. My nails look so shimmery and happy, both things I should be feeling, but it’s a struggle. Every time I realize how amazing this time has been, I’m instantly reminded it’s not going to last. It’s a fleeting, beautiful moment in my life. Like those late October days when the sun shines down on all the gold and crimson leaves and I want to enjoy the moment, but knowing it’s soon going to give way to the awfulness of winter always makes it bittersweet.

  “Hey, you look like you’re gonna cry.” The sparkle disappears from Benji’s eyes and concern replaces it. “Are you all right, Joss?”

  I nod and sniffle back the tears threatening to burst up to the surface. “I’m not ready to leave them,” I whisper. “It’s starting to feel like more than just fun or screen doors in hurricanes or whatever.” I give a tight smile but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he grabs my hand for support.

  “If that’s true,” his eyebrows knit together, “then don’t let it end.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I snort. “I’ll live in the honeymoon suite forever. As soon as I win the lottery, oh, or maybe I have a distant relative I don’t know about who will die and leave me ten million dollars.” I snap my fingers. “That could work.”

  “Or.” He pauses dramatically, looking me straight in the eyes. “It’s not such a crazy idea that you could get an apartment or find a nice girl who needs a roommate and work here. I mean, you’re a lawyer, can’t you study for the bar exam for Hawaii and make this home? It’s not like you’re leaving all your dreams back in Ohio. What do you have to go back to?”

  He’s got a point.

  “Besides me, of course.” He gives my hand a squeeze.

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s literally what Skype was invented for. Or FaceTime or whatever. Think of how jealous I’ll be in January when you’re video calling me from the beach.” He lifts his eyebrows.

  I let the image overtake my thoughts. The idea of walking up the white sand in the middle o
f winter, ocean waves rolling into the shore, with Cohen and Finn on each side of me. It’s obviously a dream, but could it come true? My eyes cast down as I imagine working so hard to study for another bar exam.

  “The only thing is, I hate being a lawyer. Like, so fucking much. I can’t stand it.”

  Benji leans down and adjusts the bubbles on his foot bath, it whirs and sends water rushing up over his feet until I can’t see them below the surface anymore. He sits back up and adjusts in his seat so he’s comfortably looking at me without stretching his neck.

  “You hate being a lawyer?”

  “I do.” My gut twinges with guilt for admitting it. Guilt and something else. I feel like I failed. I didn’t choose the right career or the right guy or …

  “And you think that it makes more sense to go back to Ohio and have to work with your ex-fiancé in a law office, doing a job you can’t stand, than to try something new?”

  “Well, I mean, I’m not saying it makes sense, Benji,” I whine a bit. I know I’m a grown-ass woman and whining is irritating as fuck, but I’m in over my head. No one told me when I was a kid dreaming about how fun my adult life would be that it was going to be this complicated. I kinda want to find my old sticker book, sneak back into my old tree fort and go back to a time when life wasn’t this fucking hard. “I don’t know if I can start over again. It’s so overwhelming, I wouldn’t even know how to start.”

  “Pivot.” He nods sagely, like he’s a wise old monk doling out advice.

  “I’m not following.”

  “Did I ever tell you I was in ballet when I was a kid?” He leans back in his chair and rests his head back. His eyes flutter closed like the memory is floating through his mind and he’s soaking it in.

  “No, you never told me.”

  “Yep, I got pretty good too. Up until I turned twelve. Then my hormones kicked in and I gained a bunch of weight and, well, you know how that story went.” He peeks over at me.

  “And now you’re buff and healthy, so it looks like it was just a chapter, not the whole story,” I reassure him.

  “I know, I’m not looking for compliments, but thank you anyway.” He smiles. “The thing was, I got too big for ballet. The kids in my class started bullying me and eventually my instructor told me she wouldn’t teach me anymore. I don’t think I fit the image she was going for,” he explains.

  “Wow, what a bitch.” I shake my head.

  “Yep, I’d been practicing every week for seven years. In my mind, ballet was it. My passion, my dream, it was my everything. Then, all of a sudden I felt like my dream was being crushed by my own weight. It felt like my world was over. I mean, at twelve so much stuff feels that way, but you know what I mean.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Pivoted.” He sits up tall. “The next year, I was still a big guy, too big for ballet. Even after I tried a bunch of diets. They didn’t work. So, instead of crying about what I couldn’t do anymore I tried out for the middle school football team, and I actually got selected. I bashed all those hormones and all my anger about ballet with my bigger body up and down the field. In football, no one cared about my weight. They saw it as a bonus, to be honest. I pivoted and met new people, learned a new sport and found something fun.”

  “So, you’re saying I need to pivot.” I chew on my lip, wondering. What would that look like? What would happen if I up and left Ohio for good? If I could start over here, what would I do?

  “Exactly. Listen, I loved ballet. It gave me grace, I could express myself in the music and it gave me a lot of structure. But football was a wild ride. I got all my teen angst out in those games. I needed that. I needed to embrace the freedom. You were on a path with Blair that was supposed to give you the ultimate structure, right? Marriage, kids, a house with a two-car garage, career, the whole deal. It didn’t work out though. You basically got cut from the class.”

  “Basically,” I agree.

  “So, find your own freedom. Pivot the fuck out of your life and let yourself get wild for a bit. I’m telling you, it’s the best thing you’ll ever do.”

  The salon workers come over and turn off our foot baths and begin drying our feet. They lead us to different chairs and begin working on our pedicures, but I’m so distracted I can barely concentrate when she asks me what polish I’d like on my toenails. All I can think about is what Benji said.

  Should I uproot and start over here in Hawaii? It would be one hell of a pivot. Maybe Benji is right. It might be the best thing I ever do for myself. If I am supposed to walk away from it all, if I’m meant to be wild and free, why the hell does it scare me so much?

  24

  Finn

  “This is brutal.” Cohen slumps over a huge binder with papers falling out every side. “Dude, I’d rather walk over a floor made of broken glass than go through these purchase orders and receipts.” I don’t want to say he’s whining, but tired three-year-old’s in need of a snack have the same tone.

  “Man, you do this every time. I already told you if we did the books every month it wouldn’t get this bad. You’re the one who puts it off for three months.” I give him the side-eye.

  “I’d put it off for eternity if I could.” He sighs.

  “Yeah, well, the IRS might have a few problems with that and I’m not going to jail because you don’t like paperwork.”

  “You don’t understand, man. I don’t just hate paperwork or whatever. It’s like, when I go through this stuff,” he lifts the binder and a bunch of loose invoices scatter across the desk and onto the floor, “my brain shuts the fuck down. I don’t know what it is, it’s like when you get back from a trip and you have to unpack your suitcase, you know? You plop it down in the corner of your room and tell yourself you’re gonna get to it, but every time you look at it your soul dies a little and then, finally, it gets unpacked but it’s only because you needed stuff you took with you.”

  “Or.” I pause dramatically. “In this case, it’s because you will go to jail. The government doesn’t care that your lazy ass doesn’t like filing taxes. I mean, you can try the ‘but my brain shuts down’ excuse with them, but I have a feeling it’s not gonna knock any time off your sentence.” I pick up the sheets and hand them back to him.

  “Fine.” He sighs, grabbing the papers from my outstretched hand. “I’ll do it, but I’m not gonna like it.”

  “I doubt the IRS cares about how much fun you have,” I quip.

  I grab another binder from the haphazard stack piled next to the desk in our “office”. Really this space is just the upstairs to our surf shop. It’s stuffed full of all the junk we told ourselves we’d get around to throwing out one day. In the middle of the mini trash heap of broken surf boards and gear are two desks facing each other. Cohen’s spills over with crumpled papers, mine is neat and tidy.

  The file folders on my desk have each month clearly labeled and separated, ready to put into a spreadsheet. His is so unorganized I can’t even look over there. I’m not sure he even knows what file folders are, to be honest. Cohen sighs every ten seconds like he’s some kind of angsty teenager who’s pissed off about his curfew. I try to ignore it, but it’s a bit much, even for him.

  “Why don’t you take a break and do some yoga for ten minutes. Get centered or whatever and then come back to it. You sound like the big bad wolf with all your huffing and puffing, man. You’re gonna drive me nuts.”

  “Sorry. It’s not just this stuff though.” He taps the binder with the back of his hand. “It feels like everything sucks right now.” Cohen slumps back in his chair, combing his fingers through his hair before locking them together behind his head.

  This is news to me. In the past five days I’ve had more exhilarating, sexy, fantasy-come-true moments than I’ve experienced in my entire life. Ever since Joss decided to start dating both of us at the same time, everything feels like it’s better. Surfing has never felt so free. Food has never tasted so good. Sleep has never left me so rested. It’s like Joss, and for some
reason sharing her with Cohen, was the key to a deep happiness I never knew I could feel.

  “What? Why?” I’m floored my friend could be feeling anything shitty right now. I’ve been walking around in some kind of almost high, blissed out state ever since we came to our little arrangement. It never occurred to me Cohen might not feel the same way about all of this. “Are you not happy with how things are going with me, you, and Joss?”

  He looks up from the floor and his face morphs from this sad little puppy dog thing he’s doing to a stupid grin. I can say that because I know it’s the same one I’ve been wearing on my face nonstop of days now.

  “No, are you kidding me? She’s amazing, man. And I thought, with both of us in the picture, it might get crowded or weird, but honestly, I’ve never felt this good with anyone before. I don’t know if it’s because of us or her or what it is about this that works so much, but it’s …” His smile fades and his eyes droop back down. “It’s too good right now.”

  I want to tell him to shut up and enjoy this while we’ve got it, but the twinge in my heart hurts. Next thing I know, I’m staring down at the floor feeling shitty. “I know what you mean,” I agree.

  “The thing is, I know we don’t have much time left with her and I don’t want to waste it being all sad about her leaving us, but I can’t help it. When she goes, it’s going to feel like a part of me got chopped off or something. Like I’m going to have to learn to live without her the same way you have to learn to walk again when you lose a leg. It’s gonna be rough.”

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  For a minute, neither of us is giving a shit about taxes or the books or anything. We’re both drilling the floor with our million-mile stares. I can’t read Cohen’s mind, but I imagine he’s thinking the same thing I am, trying to imagine how we will ever feel happy again after Joss goes. It’s more than happiness though, it’s like he said, I don’t think we’ll ever feel whole again.