Deep Diving

by Cate Ellink

  He heads back, a grin on his face as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. ‘I need a rest. Sorry, much as I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to improve the stamina of my cock.’

  I laugh. He knows he’s a package any woman would drool over, yet he laughs about it. I love it.

  ‘You rest, muscle-boy. I’m sure I’ll be able to amuse myself for a while,’ I leer.

  He lies beside me. ‘Just let me rest for a bit and I’ll be all yours again. Up for round two.’

  I trace my index finger across his hand and work my way along his arm and over his shoulder. I’ve never had the opportunity to study muscles this well-developed. I’ve always been with fit men, but none so heavily muscled. His biceps and triceps are like mini-mountains, even in semi-repose. The hills and valleys are more exciting than a Sunday run through the Adelaide hills. The muscles of his neck are thick and hard, an extension of his shoulders. Touring his chest is thrilling. The smooth dome across his pectorals is like a super-large version of his cock head, although nipples are tight dark nubs, not a single slit. I lick them the same as I would the slit, probing with the tip of my tongue. He moans softly, his eyes half-closed as he watches.

  ‘I thought you were resting?’

  He makes a tiny snort before speaking. ‘You think I can rest with your fingers dancing around like that?’

  ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  ‘God, no. Just don’t expect me to perform.’ He gives a lazy smile full of self-satisfied confidence.

  My left hand traces the musculature of his stomach. A six pack with more than six packed in. I let my fingers explore dips and hills, evenly spaced across the wide expanse. Each ripple receives my touch. Each groove the sweep of my thumb. And when my fingers have finished exploring, I take my tongue on the journey. Pockets of sweat strengthen the taste of Cooper. A stretch of warm, tight muscle and I slick across as if skating. His flesh is a feast for the famished. I can’t slake my need.

  Once his stomach is thoroughly examined, it’s the perfect opportunity to move on. My fingers curl lightly around his semi-flaccid cock, and I stroke the loose flesh so it moves along the shaft freely. I slip the skin back from the head, holding it as I examine the smooth rounded top. Leaning forward I slide the flat of my tongue across the dome. With only a hint of latex, a salty tang tingles over my tongue. A stronger concentration of whatever lies on Cooper’s skin. I need more.

  My lips close over the head, my tongue runs along the join of cock and foreskin. So much tang, my eyes roll back in my head. All I can think of is smooth skin, solid strength, salty tang.

  The baby-softness of the outer flesh hides the strength beneath. The taste of ocean is on his skin, with the slightest hint of neoprene. His thighs contract and release. I close my mouth over his cock and suck.

  My mouth moves lower as I take him deep. An ecstatic high hums through me. My body feels light, filled with air, like a post-triathlon buzz. I’m slick between my thighs. I watch him watching his cock, and work on my rhythm.

  The head touches the back of my throat and I breathe through it. Saliva runs, fills my mouth and slips down my lips and chin. My throat relaxes, anticipating the brush of his cock. I glance up and his eyes shut briefly before he meets my gaze. His eyes are almost inky black.

  ‘Fuck. Keep going…if you want…but I’m going to lose it.’ The gritty edge to his voice sends ripples of pleasure streaking through me.

  I concentrate on suction, continuing the rhythm, taking him deep each time. Over the taste of my saliva and his flesh, a sweet salty flavour coats the back of my throat. My eyes wide, I glance at him but his head’s thrown back, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  Oh, God, he’s going to lose it. I squeeze my thighs together as fluid gushes from my contracting cunt. If I slid a hand to my clit I’d come for sure, but I had my turn this arvo. This one’s for Cooper.

  I keep sucking and moving my mouth along the length of his cock. My tongue slides against the back, swirling over the rigid planes and throbbing veins. My hands on his balls stroke and fondle, before tugging gently.

  ‘I’m going to come.’ His voice is a strangled cry.

  His cock slides down my throat in the usual motion and as the tip brushes the back of my throat, bursts of thick, hot, salty come fill my mouth. My lips close as I gasp. I pull back as I swallow, replacing my mouth with my hand. Sliding my hand on the slick length, I milk the last drops from his pulsing cock.

  ‘Oh fuck. Fuck that’s good.’ His hand closes around mine, slowing the movement before he tugs my hand away and pulls me up along his body. My mouth is filled with the taste of his come. I don’t want to finish. I want to lick every last drop.

  ‘Holy shit, that was great.’ His hand curves over my cheek and his lips meet mine. His tongue slips into my mouth and our kiss is hot and tender all at once. I wonder how he likes the taste of himself.

  His hand slides against me, up and down along my back, soothing and arousing. His other palm nestles my cheek as he breaks the kiss.

  ‘So good. I have to sleep.’ His words come slowly as if he’s struggling to stay awake. ‘Sorry. Wait for…’

  With barely a flicker of thick eyelashes against his cheekbones, sleep claims him. He looks delectable. Still strong and angular, but his muscles relax lending him a softer visage.

  As much as I’d love to stay and catalogue his sleeping form, I need to leave. My sanity relies on me keeping the upper hand. That means leaving. I slip from under his arm, placing his hand on the pillow, hoping he’ll think it’s still my face. After dressing and grabbing my gear, I take one last look and fight to keep the sigh locked inside. I open the door and walk out into the cool night, carefully snicking the door behind me.

  I don’t imagine too many women leave Cooper.

  Chapter 5

  Thighs and calves burning, I push myself up hell hill again. I should have gone somewhere else but I half want to see Cooper and I hope he’ll do the same run today.

  I’m being ridiculous. I left him last night rather than staying and waking up with him this morning. Now I regret it. Yesterday was making a statement, showing my independence, being the different girl. Today I woke up horny, wanting to be fucked hard and sprawled across Cooper. I make no sense, even to myself.

  Karma and this hill are a bitch. My lungs are burning, calves screaming and I’m not yet at the top. But damned if it’s going to beat me. There’ll be no slowing to a walk, no stopping for a perv, no rest in any form. I’m punishing my lustful body until it burns so hard from fatigue, sex is forgotten.

  The summit looms and I spur myself on, hoping to get there before I expire.

  I make it. Gasping, my lungs clawing for breath, I hit the top and slow down to an easy lope across the flat path. To the right a little way along is a viewing area and I hope to do some stretches and cool down there. And there’s the entrance, tucked in behind some coastal shrubs.

  It’s not a fenced-off viewing area, only a cleared space with a magnificent view of the vast ocean with the diminutive dotted Admiralty Islands.

  Lost in my thoughts and the scenery as I do my stretches, I don’t hear Cooper until he’s right behind me.

  ‘Good morning, gorgeous.’ His whole face is lit by his smile; his mouth framed with grooves, his cheeks raised and dimpled, his eyes shining brightly. I swallow to moisten my extraordinarily parched throat. He looks way better than the view — and it’s spectacular.

  ‘Good morning, I didn’t hear you coming. Don’t you ever puff?’

  He laughs and his hand reaches towards my face while I’m caught in the middle of a calf stretch. Even if I wasn’t stretching a leg, I don’t think I’d have the willpower to avoid his touch.

  ‘I had such plans for waking up this morning.’ He’s still grinning even with the slight rebuke. ‘Only to find myself all alone, and my plans needed two.’

  ‘You should never make plans. You never know what’s coming around the corner.’ I lift my eyebrows as I rise from the stret
ch.

  ‘You’ve sure got that right. I’ve never been so wrong-footed as I am with you.’

  I sink into another stretch. ‘Is that bad?’ I ask the question not knowing if I want the answer. But the answer doesn’t really matter. This is a holiday fling. If he remembers me for being the one girl who kept him on his toes, that’s not a bad thing.

  He avoids answering by asking me my plans for the day.

  ‘We’re diving at nine thirty, lunch, then I have no plans. I thought maybe I’d snorkel some place.’

  He nods and his grin deepens, making my insides mush. ‘Too many corners huh?’

  It takes me a long time to link his comment to my earlier one about not knowing what’s around the corner. I blame it on his grin and my mushy innards. Too late to laugh, I smile vaguely. ‘Did you have something in mind?’

  He looks out to sea, following the flight path of a lone tern. I allow myself a few moments of perving. My gaze drifts across the squareness of his jaw, the power of the muscles in his solid neck, and the smoothness of that tiny dip behind his earlobe. His body fascinates me. Sheer bulk, complete strength, and utter delicateness all sitting side by side.

  ‘I was thinking secluded. One of these beaches where no one goes. A picnic lunch we can eat after hiking. Then an afternoon spent snorkelling, sun baking, or whatever else might entertain you.’ The grin is completely wicked and my body responds with a gush of sex juices.

  Keeping him wrong-footed seems to be working in my favour.

  ‘Sounds unplanned enough for me. Will I order lunch?’

  ‘I hoped you’d agree. I’ve already taken care of it.’ He has this look that’s almost sheepish, as if he wasn’t sure how I’d respond. Maybe my leaving last night unsettled him.

  When I finish my last stretch I move against him and slide my tongue along his jaw. The rough prickle of morning stubble nicks my tastebuds. He still has the remnants of salty ocean and sweat. ‘I do enjoy a man who can feed me.’ I lick beneath his earlobe before nipping at the flesh.

  ‘I enjoy a woman who can feed off me.’

  My laughter rings out across the still morning air. ‘Is that your plan for lunch?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait to find out.’

  My mind fills with ideas and images. Eating from his abs, his arms, his chest, his back, his butt…

  ‘Earth to Sam, you still here?’

  My gaze snaps back to Cooper’s and the heat of a blush races up my neck and over my face.

  ‘Oh, I am going to enjoy lunch.’ Cooper presses a light promise of a kiss on my lips and squeezes my shoulder. ‘See you at the dive but I better finish my run or we’ll miss it completely.’

  He jogs off before I can assemble a reply.

  The diving here is outstanding but a tiny part of me knows that more sex with Cooper may just outrank it.

  ***

  After another superb dive, this time in Comet’s Hole, we pick up our backpacks and head for lunch and seclusion.

  ‘Have you found somewhere to go?’ I ask as we head out of the dive shed.

  ‘There’s no guarantee of seclusion anywhere but they reckon North Beach or Middle Beach offer good possibilities.’

  I stop. ‘Middle Beach may be secluded but you can look down on it from the Valley of the Shadows.’

  Cooper grins. ‘I guess the choice is made.’ We head north, hoping that others aren’t so keen on the long hike when there are great beaches right near town. The trouble is that lots of active people visit Lord Howe in order to do the long walks.

  ‘I’m in love with lion fish,’ I announce before we’ve gone far. After spending far too long looking at them during the dive I feel the need to explain. ‘There’s something about all the frills and fins that fascinates me.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m fairly taken by them myself. They’re striking with the black and white stripes and their elusiveness. I really don’t mind you looking. I could spend all day playing with the coloured wrasse. I love how they get in your face and scout around. They’re playful and inquisitive, and with that pointy, toothy mouth, it’s like they want to talk, or grin, or nip you.’

  ‘I’ve never dived with someone who likes the same things I do. Thanks. You’ve been the find of the trip.’ There’s no difficulty in giving him a saucy, playful grin. He’s been the find of my life.

  Cooper leans down close to my ear and whispers, ‘You’re just saying that because you think I’m good in bed.’ With a quick swipe of his tongue, he moves away and I can do nothing but laugh. Loudly.

  Probably not the reaction he was after but it doesn’t stop him laughing with me. There’s something exciting about a confident man.

  The walk to North Beach is punctuated by dive and sport talk, short bursts of racing each other along the path, and lots of laughter. We stop to take a few photos because the beach is stunning, and even the photos are a time for mucking around. With Cooper I could be 12 again. At times we’re like two kids fooling around in front of the camera, pulling faces, poking fun at each other. It should feel silly and immature but it doesn’t. It’s playful, easygoing, and feels more like foreplay than anything else.

  When we get to North Beach, we hike up to the far end. Even though there’s no one there, the rocks at the far end seem to beckon, whispering of seclusion, romance and mystery.

  I spread out a couple of towels for our picnic lunch and Cooper pulls out tubs of food. As much as I’d like to eat my lunch from Cooper’s abs, his words shut down any thought of that. ‘I’m starving and I’m waiting for no one.’ He dives for the food.

  We eat chicken and salads with crusty bread. All fresh. All beautifully delicious. When we’re done, I pack away the tubs.

  ‘There’s fruit somewhere,’ Cooper says as I’m shuffling tubs into his pack. I pull out a container and can smell the mango with the lid still on. The sweet scent has my mouth watering, not only for the fruit. There are muscles on display here that could easily feed me mango. And he’s lying down, shirtless. Perfect fruit platter.

  I pick up a slippery slice of succulence. It’s an effort not to drop it into my mouth but I stroke it down the mid-line of Cooper’s stomach before following the juice with my tongue. A growl rumbles in my chest. My tongue tingles. I drop slices into the grooves between his abdominal muscles. Each breath Cooper takes has the buttery fruit wobbling, but none slip.

  ‘Leave some for me,’ are the only words Cooper mutters, softly and slowly before I lean down and feast from his abs.

  Mango is sweet and soft with a texture of debauchery. Eating it from Cooper makes it so much more sinful, so much more delicious and so incredibly decadent. My lips touch firm skin, taste Cooper, then close over soft squelching fruit. My tongue licks over warm, tightly packed muscle that’s sweet, salty and male. It confuses my head. Not just sensory overload but my senses are mixed. Soft and hard. Sweet and salty. Solid male and sexy squelch-like female. My head buzzes, my mouth zings.

  I feed the last slices to Cooper. Easing the fruit between his lips and licking any escaping juice. When there are no mango pieces left, I lap each mound of abdominal muscle, each dip, until I can no longer taste the sweet dribbles of juice.

  ‘I think you’ve peeled off layers of my skin with all that lapping.’ Cooper’s voice is a low purr. He’s nowhere close to unhappy if his swollen cock is any indication. I’ve deliberately avoided touching it, leaving it to tent his boardies as I’ve feasted on other parts.

  I lift my gaze to his, staring over his chest. ‘I didn’t hear too much complaining while I was eating.’

  He flashes a grin and I wriggle along his body to capture his lips in mine. I straddle his stomach to get a deeper kiss and stickiness pulls at my inner thighs. I guess I didn’t lap over the edges of his abdomen.

  He sits up, kissing me throughout the impressive abdominal crunch, and settles me against his cock. The feel of it, hard, swollen and strong, tucked in against my heated core is heady. My hands slip behind his neck, fingers splay throug
h his short dark hair, palms cradle his head, lips open, tongue dancing with his. I wriggle my hips in a slow stroke along his cock. His growl rumbles through his chest, along his tongue and into me.

  He pulls back enough to turn the deep kiss into tiny nibbles. ‘We need a swim,’ he says against my lips.

  It’s a swim or getting naked as far as I’m concerned. And if he wants a swim, I can go with that. I wriggle from his lap and drag off my shirt and shorts. Holding hands, we run into the water yelling.

  I don’t know what it is about him that brings out my inner teen but she’s here. Lusting after him. Laughing with him. Squealing and squirming. The best part is that he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s tickling, pushing, challenging and yelling right along with me.

  The cool water splashes my heated flesh as we race in. And then we’re diving, still holding hands. Water crashes over my head, my face, my shoulders, my back, legs, feet. We surface together, laughing. We brush water from our eyes at the same time which makes us laugh, pulls us closer together, makes me think how alike we are, how similar. How perfect.

  And we merge. Mouth against mouth. Bodies entwine. Hands link, then drift apart, touching bodies, then fingers lace again. All the while the water drifts around us, pushing against us, but we’re so entwined it can’t slip between us. Cooper’s chest is against mine, his stomach merged with mine, his legs twisted between mine. His hand slips up my back and in a flash, the clip for my bikini top presses against my spine before it’s undone, followed by the strings at my nape. The soft fabric brushes against me in the swirl of water. His hand grabs it and shoves it into his pocket. Then he lifts my hips away from his body and untangles my legs. Water holds me, touches me, slips against me as he slides my bikini bottoms off and pushes it into his pocket along with the top.

  Complete exposure to the water is sensual. Water caresses my thighs, slides along my nether lips, slips against my heated core giving wet kisses to my hot clit. Nipples, scrunched tight, are soothed by the gentle wet whisper against them.