Sexy and Funny, Hilarious Erotic Romance Bundle

by Mimi Strong

  I kissed him again, grabbing at him with my hands—grabbing his hair, his face, his neck, shoulders, and back. He had some powerful muscles underneath his T-shirt, more than one would get from simply scooping ice cream.

  His hands were all over me as well, and as he was stroking my buttocks, I reached down and pulled open the front of his pants, releasing him. I slid my hand down and grabbed his manhood in my hand, enjoying the feel of it, squeezing it for myself and my own interest more than for him. Oh, he was a big boy.

  Huskily, he said in my ear, “Oh, Laura. Wait 'til the sun's down, and it'll be dark.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at the deep-red sun, which was now just a sliver.

  There was nobody else on the beach, just some specks on the horizon—specks that could have been someone walking their dog, or perhaps nothing.

  Something took me over then, and I was myself, but not myself. I pulled back away from him, climbed off, and removed my panties. I tucked them into my purse, and, instead of returning to Shawn's lap, I knelt before him.

  His manhood was already mostly free of his jeans. I grabbed him by the shaft with one hand, then leaned down and popped the head into my mouth. I may not have been confident about my sexuality, but I knew how to give a blowjob.

  His hands went to my shoulders hesitantly, as though he was trying to work up the willpower to push me away, but he then dropped his hands to his pants and shifted his clothes a little to free himself fully.

  It was too big to get all the way into my mouth, but I was able to work the shaft with one hand, pumping and squeezing, while I sucked on the head.

  After a moment of this, he was getting very hard, and his hips were moving. I sensed he was about to come, so I stopped and looked up at him, sure but unsure at the same time.

  The sun had set, and the light was now cold and blue, weak light. I could see his face easily, but all around us, darkness was rolling in.

  Still stroking him with my hand, I said, “Do you want me to finish you off with my mouth, or do you want me to sit on your lap?”

  His eyes widened. “You mean sex?”

  I kept stroking, the other hand wandering down to cup his balls. “That is what the kids are calling it these days.”

  “Come here,” he said, catching my hands and pulling them off of his cock, then pulling me down onto his lap, his cock straight up, pinched between us.

  “Hang on,” he said. “Gotta shift around.” He leaned back and swung one leg over the large log, so that he was straddling the log and I was straddling him.

  “Comfortable,” I said, rising up to make intimate contact, to kiss the head of his penis to my opening.

  I eased down onto him, sliding his shaft into my opening. He was big. Bigger than Lars, for sure.

  “Wow,” I said.

  He moaned with pleasure in my ear, and said, “You feel so good. Oh, Laura, that's incredible.”

  I peeked down, pulled my dress back, and saw that he was only half in me so far. My lubrication had been going since we'd first kissed, but it hadn't been massaged around, and was still mostly inside me.

  As his un-lubricated, velvet-soft shaft slid into me, my lips hugged it and nearly pulled inside myself.

  He said, “I think I need to ease out a little, and ...” He reached a hand down to touch my clit.

  When his thumb contacted my hot flesh, the feeling zapped through me like an electric shock. It was too much, too much sensation. I pushed his hand away and told him, “I don't think I can handle that.”

  He looked at me, with the sweetest expression. “But I want it to be good for you.”

  “I can't take a lot of direct contact,” I said, feeling embarrassed. This had always been a problem for me. Direct stimulation with fingers was too intense, but sex was nice, enjoyable, and I'd had a few orgasms from oral sex, back when Lars used to make an effort. In all, I'd had at least five orgasms in my life, which was better than some women, I hear.

  He shook his head. “You have to show me what to do.”

  I eased my hips up, making his shaft slippery, then I lowered myself onto him, all the way.

  His eyes rolled up with pleasure. We were in near-darkness now, lit only by the moon.

  He thrust against me gently, his eyes closed, his face tilted up to the starry sky. I didn't know how this position felt for him, but it was good for me. I enjoyed the fullness and the skin contact, and the sensation of him being inside me, along with the idea of it.

  Shawn opened his eyes and grasped me tightly by the hips, stopping my slow, rocking movements. “Someone's coming,” he said.

  “You? Already?”

  “Almost,” he said. “But I also see someone on the beach, walking this way.”

  “What do we do?” I squeezed him with my pelvic muscles and he reflexively thrust into me.

  His voice got a little louder, as though we weren't having sex, and he said, “So, Laura, how do you like our little town?” His hands moved to spread the skirt part of my green dress down, so that someone walking by wouldn't know he was penetrating me. To an outside observer, we were just cuddling, making out, sharing heat on a summer night.

  “The town?” I squeezed his hard penis inside me with my pelvic muscles. “It's really fun. I've been having such a good time here.” I kissed him and he licked at my lips as I squeezed him some more.

  He leaned back and rested his elbows on the big log we were straddling. He tossed his shaggy hair casually and said, “I'd like to travel some more. I've been planning for a backpacking trip, to Europe, or Asia.”

  The person walking along the beach was getting closer. I couldn't make out the form, but my imagination filled in the details, and I saw Sharise. I could have sworn it was her.

  My pulse quickened, and I felt chilly all over, prickly with fear sweat. She had found us, and she was angry. I turned to make wide-eyes at Shawn as I froze, scared.

  He called out, “Hi Mrs. Roseapple!”

  “Hello, dearie!” she said.

  I turned my head and took another look, finding it wasn't Sharise at all, but one of the kind older women from the antiques store. She glanced down at our bodies, her expression curious, from what I could tell. She stopped to talk to us, but then turned her head away, chuckling. “You lovebirds never mind me,” she said, and she walked away, turning back once to give us a little wave.

  “She knows,” I said to Shawn.

  “Doesn't matter,” he said, and his member, which had relaxed and softened when we'd stopped, came back to life again.

  The adrenaline from the fear was still in my system, and I felt an overwhelming tingling sensation all around my vagina. It was like tiny little starbursts of energy, and without even thinking, I started to rock my hips, moving up and down on Shawn's hardening member.

  He moaned and closed his eyes again, then he relaxed his torso, all the way back onto the log, so that he was lying back and I was riding him, cowgirl style.

  I leaned forward and pressed my hands into his chest so I could get a better angle and drive myself down harder, harder onto his cock.

  The little starbursts all around my vagina got brighter and stronger, and I felt a delicious wave of frenzied desire come over me. I was desperate. Desperate to keep moving, to keep feeling him moving inside of me. Even my hands on his strong chest muscles were filling with light, with starbursts and sparks.

  Then something unexpected happened. I started to have an orgasm. At first I wasn't sure. I couldn't believe it, because it had only been a few minutes, and I hadn't had any oral sex beforehand to get warmed up or partway there, but it was happening, and it was all because of sweet Shawn and his big cock inside me.

  “Slow down,” he said. “You're going to make me come.”

  “Do it,” I said, grinding down onto him. I wanted him to come, wanted to feel his shaft expand inside of me, feel the hot product of our sex coming out of his body, coming all inside me.

  I held on tight to his chest muscles as he rocked
under me, thrusting harder and harder.

  I was coming, as the waves lapped up on the shore next to us and the moon shone down, and we were out in the wide-open, for anyone to see. I was an animal. I was part of nature.

  And it felt good.

  The starbursts turned into a supernova of bliss, blasting out from me like hot, white light.

  He kissed me and held me tight.

  We stopped moving, and we were both quiet.

  We were still.

  And then I let out a nervous laugh.

  “Come here,” he said, and he pulled my hand and brought me down to his chest. I nuzzled his stubbly chin, my long hair getting caught up and tangled in his light beard.

  With my head on his chest, his voice was low and sexy, rumbling under my ear, as he said, “That was the best birthday present anyone has ever had, ever.”

  I noticed his cock was still quite hard. I asked, “Did you come?”

  “No, but don't worry. I don't mind waiting. I was just so happy to see you enjoying yourself.”

  I shifted around and started to rock again, but he held me tight and told me he was too nervous, because of being out in the open.

  “I can do something else,” I said, enjoying the though of giving him head again. His cock had been so nice in my mouth.

  He kissed me, sweetly, and gently withdrew. “Later,” he said.

  “Later. You just say the word, and I'll do anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.” I pulled my panties out of my purse and put them back on before someone else showed up to chat.

  PART 3: Karaoke

  I was feeling relaxed and blissful as we held hands and walked away from the beach, back up the boardwalk. I giggled and rubbed my face on Shawn's shoulder, and he kissed the top of my head, then we stopped walking and made out some more, under the moon.

  Being with a twenty-one-year-old made me feel young, and alive. A decade of tears and hard work and coming to grips with the realities of life all slipped away, and I was seventeen again. As we walked into town, Shawn asked me, again, about why I was there by myself. I'd been avoiding this question on other visits to the ice cream shop, but, since we'd already been so intimate, I decided to tell him.

  We walked along the boardwalk, holding hands, and I told him the sad tale of being jilted, left at the altar. I hadn't gotten to the actual, physical altar, at least, but I was in the changing room at the little hall we'd booked, with my mother and my maid of honor. When Lars didn't show up, we worried he'd gotten into a car accident, since he was always driving like a maniac whenever he got out of the traffic-congested downtown core, and the rented hall was well out in the country, beyond the suburbs.

  My bridesmaid hadn't shown up either, and she had the rings.

  I was sick to my stomach worrying they'd been hurt in some way when my maid of honor got the text messages. He wasn't coming. And neither was the bridesmaid.

  The news was too much for me, and I threw up on the spot, all down the front of my dress.

  As tragic as it had seemed at the time, describing myself throwing up and my mother freaking out was kinda funny. Perhaps I was finally getting a little perspective.

  Shawn stopped walking and turned to me, both of us lit by a bright lamp over the boardwalk. The sea breezes blew through our hair and ruffled the edge of my skirt.

  He said, stifling a laugh, “You threw up on yourself?”

  I started to giggle. “Yeah. And I'd only had one glass of champagne to calm my nerves.” I bit my lip. “Okay, three glasses of champagne.”

  “Aw, poor boo,” he said, tucking some of my hair behind one ear.

  “I should have censored some parts of the story.”

  “No. I like that we're honest with each other. You heard all my dirty laundry.” He shook his head. “Sharise.”

  “Oh, her,” I said, waving my hand. “What goes around comes around.”

  He lunged for me and pulled me in tight, hugging me and lifting me off my feet. “Then what did I do to deserve meeting you?”

  I kissed him. “I feel the same way.”

  He slowly set me down. “This is how things should be,” he said. “I know relationships can be work and everything, but you make me believe they don't have to be a nightmare.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  He scooped up my hand again and we swung our arms like kids as we walked down the boardwalk together.

  As we talked and got to know each other better, at times I felt the six-year age gap between us, like when we talked about favorite music. He liked a lot of bands I'd never heard of, and when I mentioned the “generation gap” he laughed at me and assured me six years was nothing.

  “Maybe in your thirties,” I said. “But it's a big deal now. I mean, I have bills to pay. Lars moved out, so I have to cover the rent on my own. You probably still live with your parents.”

  He didn't deny it, but changed the topic instead to movies, and then to food.

  Talk of food made me hungry, and him too, because he said, “Who knew sex on the beach makes you so hungry?”

  As he said the words, I was struck by the phrase. To me, “sex on the beach” was the hilarious name of a drink, not something I thought I'd ever actually do.

  We were standing in front of the main pub in town, the one with a sandwich board out front proclaiming tonight to be Karaoke for Lovers Night.

  “They have good burgers,” Shawn said, nodding towards the door. “And karaoke.”

  “I'm game if you are.”

  “Oh, Laura, you know I'll do anything you ask. I'll even serenade you, if you want. Though I would like to kiss you again some time, and I don't know if you'll want to after you hear me sing.”

  “I'll be the judge of that,” I said, and I led him into the pub.

  Inside the pub, we took a seat in a quiet corner and perused the menus.

  I said, “How do you know the burgers are good here if you only just turned twenty-one?”

  He grinned and said, “Let's just say my older brother's ID disappears from his wallet from time to time.”

  “You are bad.”

  “Not as bad as you.”

  When the waitress came to take our order, Shawn didn't take his eyes off me, even though the young woman was quite attractive, and her breasts were popping out of her gingham top. She made big eyes at me, and I wondered if she knew Sharise, and if reports were going to be text-messaged out that I was there with Shawn.

  Fuck Sharise, I thought, and I ordered some chicken strips and a beer.

  Before and during our food, Shawn and I talked some more. He told me about playing baseball in high school, and how a fall off his dirt bike had broken his arm, knocking him out for a season and hurting his chances at a pro career.

  “If not baseball, then what are you going to do?” I asked.

  He winked at me. “You mean when I grow up?”

  I laughed into my glass of beer. “Sorry. I forget. You're so young, you have plenty of time to figure it out. I'm sure you won't be working at an ice cream shop forever.”

  “I could hire staff to work there full-time now, but I enjoy the interaction with the customers, especially in the summer.”

  “So… you own that place?”

  “Yeah,” he said, giving me a sly grin, as though he had secrets of his own. “I've got a few investments around town. Rental properties, commercial and residential, and a couple of businesses. I also own the automotive repair shop, along with my brother, who manages it.”

  “I had no idea.”

  He shrugged. “We're not billionaires or anything, but the cost of living here in town is low, and I want to enjoy life. Not that there's anything wrong in working hard, but I like to play hard too, you know?”

  My mind replayed the memory of us making love on the log, on the beach, and I felt myself flush red in the cheeks, and a sensation in my panties as well.

  Some people were on stage, singing (badly) to some karaoke song. I'd learne
d that Karaoke for Lovers Night meant all the songs were duets, and you had to have a partner. A few young guys got up and jokingly sang a corny duet together, and a couple of girls as well.

  The waitress came by to clear our plates and said we'd be singing next.

  “No, no.” I waved my hands emphatically. “I didn't sign up for a song.”

  The waitress pointed to another table, where the owners of the B&B, Al and Bryan, were sitting. They both waved.

  She said, “The boys picked out a song for you two. They said they'll be heartbroken if you don't sing it for them. It's one of their favorites.”

  Shawn said, “Of course we'll sing,” and he jumped up, grabbing my hand.

  I reminded myself that I only knew about three people in the whole town, and it was just one song, and what could possibly go wrong?

  The two girls singing a Heart song finished to a smattering of applause, and then, we were up next.

  Al and Bryan whistled and cheered for us.

  The song came on: Islands in the Stream, as made popular in the 80s by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.

  Shawn said, “Do you know this one?”

  I pretended to slap him and said, “I'm not that old!”

  “But you know it, right?”

  I winked at him. Of course I did. My mother loved the song, and she still played it regularly.

  The lights shone in our faces, so I was unable to see the audience very well. I just focused on the words on the screen in front of us, and on Shawn, who looked confident and relaxed.

  My voice shook, but within a few lines, the goddess power of Dolly returned and wrapped around me, like a mystical spell, and my singing improved, along with my confidence.

  I knew the words by heart, as did Shawn, so by the end of the song, we were both gazing into each other's eyes—really hamming it up, much to the delight of the audience.

  When we finished, we kissed, and I heard Al and Bryan hooting and hollering “Encore!” from the audience.

  I was having one of the most electrifying, exciting moments of my life.

  And then someone threw a chair at the stage.