by Melinda Minx
But as his thick, nearly full foot of dick slides into my soaking wet hole, I realize that the memory was real. He is everything I remembered, and more. I squeeze my arms and legs around him, vowing to never let him go again. I could never convince myself a second time that he was just a rose-tinted memory. He is what he is. He’s Mason Steel.
He presses his lips against my ear, and he slides into me so deep that his balls rest against me. I feel his hot breath on my ear, and I arch my back, which presses my clit against him.
“It’s unreal,” I whisper.
“What is?”
“Nothing,” I say, gasping as he starts to slide out of me, making me feel his full girth and length once again. He slides along my inner walls, pulling my soaking wetness all along his thick cock.
My eyes roll back into my head, and I decide that I will not tell him. I won’t tell him about the man living up to the memory. That will stay my secret, and we will be even. I won’t tell him what his memory did to me, but I will no longer hold what he did against me. We’re even.
My pussy burns for him, and his slow and rhythmic in-and-out picks up pace. He can feel my body from the inside, and he knows what it wants.
He thrusts hard, and his balls slap against me with each powerful movement. I start to wonder how I ever felt cold. The ice on my face and the shivering is nothing but a memory. Mason’s burning hot body and cock have warmed me up so much that sweat is beading on my forehead.
I dig my nails into him. He says physical pain doesn’t hurt him, but I want him to feel me. I can’t let him forget me. Not after this.
He fucks me hard, and each thrust sends me further back, until my head is pressed up against the side of the door. My heels are dug into him, and my nails are cutting across his strong back muscles.
“Sophie, God,” he says. “It’s better than I remember,” he grunts as he pounds me for all he’s worth. He fucks me harder and harder, then says, “How can it be better than that? Fuck!”
My pussy squeezes him, convulsing. My body shudders again, harder than when he first entered me. It’s like a switch goes off inside me, shutting me off from reality. It locks me inside my body—which Mason is part of—and I feel nothing except the beautiful warmth and wetness we are creating together. I am soaking wet for him, and his sliding in and out of me is all that matters.
But then I feel it everywhere. My clit feels as if it’s humming, and the orgasm rocks across my entire body. Even though Mason is only inside of one part of me, it feels as if he’s bursting across my entire body, becoming one with me.
I hear his voice, moaning, as if he’s a thousand miles away, and then I feel his cock twitching. I feel him filling me up, but I’ve lost all sense of scale. It feels like there’s a full river gushing inside me, and each time he cums deep inside me, the river grows larger. Fiercer. Thicker.
I lose control of my body. My hands twitch and slide along his back, and I start to get pulled back into reality as he shoots the last of his loads inside me.
I’m brought back into Mason’s warm embrace, but I know that this warm afterglow would keep me warm even if he let go of me. Not that I’ll let him release me.
We both go limp in each other’s arms. He’s still hovering above me, keeping his crushing weight off my body. There’s not enough space for both of us to lie down comfortably.
I slide out from beneath him, and I shove him until he’s lying on the seat. He’s so tall that he has to keep his knees bent. I lay atop him, as my weight is nothing to him.
“Fuck, Sophie,” he says. “You don’t know how many times I imagined this happening. I never thought it could be…”
He trails off, and the phone rings.
I consider not answering it. I could just lay here forever—
But Mason reaches out and grabs the phone. He answers, and it’s still set to speaker.
“You guys done yet?” the voice asks. “I saw the car rocking when I got here, so I figured I’d give you a few minutes to finish—that’s how long it takes me, just a few minutes—but, shit, with you guys it’s been—”
“Jesus,” I say, feeling horrified.
Mason laughs. “We’ll be out in two minutes.”
He hangs up the phone.
I feel shocked for a few moments longer, then I start to laugh, too.
“Mason, did your imagination of this moment all those times include a tow truck guy watching the car from outside?”
The next morning, I ask Dad how his doctor’s appointment went.
He gets angry and starts eating really fast.
“Dad, tell me you went.”
“I’m fine!” he grunts. “Perfectly healthy! I went on a long walk yesterday!”
I’m livid. This is probably the fourth time he’s cancelled his checkup. “So you went on a walk, the day before the appointment you didn’t go to? That means you don’t need to see a doctor? Did you eat an apple, too?”
“I’ll go next time,” he says.
“I’m going to take off work and drive you there,” I say, glaring at him.
“Fine!” he says. “Just drop it now.”
“Fine.”
I’m still glowing from last night, so I can’t let this sour my day. It will probably be another two months before we can get another appointment—if they even let us re-book.
By the time I get to work I’m pissed off. The glow has faded and I’m more and more worried about Dad. If he really wants me to start my career up again, he could at least prove to me that he’ll take care of himself. With the way he’s behaving, I’m going to have to live here forever, working at the Crab Shack.
I sigh, feeling butterflies in my stomach. If Mason Steel stays here, then at least it won’t be all bad.
When Marv’s crew rolls in for lunch, everyone but Marv and Mason come in. Did the two of them go eat somewhere else?
I catch John outside with a cigarette. “Where are Marv and Mason?”
“Oh,” he says. “Some of the nets are messed up. They’re untangling them and will be in later.”
“Ah, okay,” I say.
“You like Mason,” John says.
I nod and walk away.
I have to admit I was worried. Mason being here is...complicated. We finally had sex again last night, and when I didn’t see him walk in with his crew, I worried he’d left again. I feel guilty for even thinking that, but he left me once when I never thought he would. It’s something I have to worry about if I’m going to be with him.
I go back in and refill Samuel’s and Ashton’s drinks.
“Hold on,” Samuel says as I start to walk away.
He pours something from a flask into his soda. “Want a drink?”
“I’m working,” I say. “And you’re about to be, too. Your job is a lot more dangerous than mine.”
“Well,” Samuel says, “you like dangerous men, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “You talking about Mason?”
“Yeah,” he says. “That old fart.”
“He’s in his mid-thirties,” I say. “Just like me. Are you calling me an old fart, Samuel?”
“There’s this show I like to watch,” Samuel says.
“Dude,” Ashton hisses. “Shut up!”
“It’s called Cougar Town,” Samuel says, grinning. “Now, you’re a fair bit younger than the women in that show, but the principle is sound—” he hiccups.
I should just walk away, but Samuel’s stupidity is so incredible that I’m tempted to stay and watch it, like a really bad car crash.
“So…” I say, “you’re calling me a cougar? Do you always play up a woman’s age when hitting on them? I can’t believe you’re still single!”
“She knows what cougar means!” Ashton whispers to Samuel. “Shut up, dude! Mason will—”
“Go on, Samuel,” I say.
“Well,” he says, “you see, Sophie, young guys like me have really high sex drives, and I read on Wikipedia—and saw on Cougar Town—that women your age have
the highest sex drive for ladies, so naturally that is the best combination. For sex, at least.”
I start to laugh. “What about Mason? The guy you are out fishing with every single day. The guy I am having sex with already.”
Ashton’s eyes bulge, and Samuel bites his lip, but he finally speaks. “Well, he already left you once, right? I don’t think he’ll stick around, and there’s no way he’s got the same sex drive as me. So if—when—he leaves you—”
I kick his leg. Hard enough to send a jolt of pain through his whole body.
Everyone turns to see what happened, but when they see that it’s Samuel, they roll their eyes and go back to eating.
He laughs. “That’s the cougar spirit, fucking feisty!” He downs his drink. “Can I get another?”
18
Mason
Marv and I get all the gill nets untangled and coiled back up into their buckets. I noticed Samuel was not exactly sober, but the seas were calm today and he was doing what he needed to do. So I don’t say anything to Marv.
“Fucking hungry,” Marv says. “We’ll take longer for lunch since we got started late.”
We get in Marv’s truck and head to the Crab Shack. When we get in, Samuel, Ashton, and John have a big table full of oyster shells and a few remnants of French fries drenched in ketchup.
“I got a hankering for raw oysters,” Marv says. “You?”
“Sounds good,” I say, looking over at our crew’s table. “Assuming these guys didn’t eat them all.”
We sit down at a new table. We’ve been doing that recently, eating together, since the other three are all at least a decade younger than us. Well, John isn’t, but he usually acts like he is.
Sophie comes over to take our order. Fuck, she looks amazing. Even in her Crab Shack t-shirt and apron.
“Hey,” she says, beaming at me.
“Hi. Any oysters left?”
“Sure are,” she says. “You want ‘em grilled, steamed—”
“Raw,” Marv says.
I nod.
“That’s easy enough,” she says.
“And a big bucket of fries,” Marv says. “With vinegar.”
Sophie smiles and nods.
“You want what they’re drinking, too?” Sophie asks. “Well, just the cola, not the whiskey.”
Marv shakes his head. “They better not be hitting the whiskey too hard.”
So Marv does know, at least. I guess it’s under control.
“How are the nets?” Sophie asks.
“They’re good to go,” I say. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Marv laughs. “Bragging about untangling nets, Mason?”
I glare at him, but Sophie squeezes my arm and smiles up at us. “Two colas.”
“Damn,” Marv says, as soon as she’s out of earshot. “You two fucked!”
I laugh.
“So you did! I gotta say man, ain’t a fisherman in Tuckett Bay who didn’t wanna—”
“Watch it,” I say, sticking a finger at him.
“Alright,” he says, “I won’t say what you know I was gonna’ say.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Well,” Marv says, “good for you, man. And for Sophie. She’s from here, but she never really quite fit here, you know? If she’s with you…”
He trails off.
“What?” I ask.
“I guess you don’t really fit here either.”
“Thanks,” I say, scoffing.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way, man. I’m just saying. If neither of you fit alone, maybe together you’ll fit?”
I shrug. I’m not particularly attached to Tuckett Bay. I could take it or leave it. The seafood is good, sure, but I don’t have any family left here. I’m here for Sophie, that’s it.
We get our oysters and fries, and I ask Sophie if she wants to join us.
“Sure,” she says. “Just a few minutes, though. Melanie will get mad.”
She sits down beside me, and Marv grins. We shuck the oysters and suck out the cool, salty meat. The fries go damn well with it, the only thing missing is a nice cold beer. But I’m not gonna’ fucking drink on the job after seeing Samuel hit the bottle too hard. Drinking and fishing is a lot like drinking in combat. Fucking stupid. I’ll have to have a talk with Samuel. It’s one thing if he gets himself killed, quite another if he gets someone else killed.
We finish eating, and I kiss Sophie goodbye.
It starts off as a quick peck, but it’s hard to take my lips off her. Neither of us wants to back down, neither of us wants to stop. Our tongues meet, and my cock gets hard. I feel an intense urge to throw her down on one of the tables and take her right here and now, but the hooting and cheering sounds break me out of it.
We stop kissing, and Samuel is pounding his fist on his table and hollering at us.
“Sophie the waitress and Mason the fisher!” he shouts. “Shacking up at the ‘ol Crab Shack!”
He saunters over toward us and pats a hand onto my back. “Mason, man, don’t mess it up with her. Sophie and I were just talking together before you got here.”
I look at Sophie, and she looks a little bit guilty. It can’t be that something is going on with her and fucking Samuel? Right?
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says. “We were talking about how you left her, and probably how you’re gonna’ leave her again—”
“Samuel,” she says, “don’t make me kick you again. Or slap you.”
I look over at Sophie. “Really?”
“Come on,” Ashton says. “Samuel was doing all the talking. Sophie was just putting up with him for the tip.”
“The tip,” Samuel says. “That’s what the cougar wants, just the tip, huh? But the tip turns into the whole shaft, after a lot of inches at least—”
I punch him square in the jaw. Hard. Too hard.
He crumples to the ground in a heap. Knocked out cold. He’ll wake up with a wicked headache, and not just from the whiskey.
“Jesus, Mason, you fucking idiot!” she shouts.
“Mad you won’t get your tip?” I say, fuming with anger.
Definitely not a smart thing to say, I realize a few second later, as Sophie gives me a disgusted look. “Get out of here, Mason,” she says. “I don’t want your tip either.”
“Sorry,” I say, “I just—”
“Out!”
Marv and Ashton lead me out, and John stays behind with Samuel.
We get outside, and Marv starts laughing.
“It’s not funny,” I say, shoving him.
“You gonna’ knock me out, too? Soldier boy?” Marv says.
“We gotta get Samuel under control,” I say.
“You worried he’s gonna’ steal your woman?” Marv laughs.
“I’m worried he’s gonna’ get someone killed,” I say.
“You’re not the captain,” Marv says, scowling at me. “You know that drinking a bit is something that just happens.”
“A bit?” I ask. “John, you think he was just drinking a bit?”
John looks down at the ground.
Marv squeezes my arm. “Look, man, you don’t need to worry about this. I’ll get it under control. I promise, all right? Worry about Sophie, she’s pissed at you.”
“I gotta try that sometime,” John says.
“Try what?” I ask.
John swings his fist into the air. “Wham! Just knocking a guy out cold to defend my woman’s honor.”
“You don’t have a woman,” Marv says.
“Exactly!” John says. “’Cause I’m too chickenshit to pull a move like Mason did.”
“She’s pissed at me,” I say. “Don’t learn from me.”
“Pissed at you now,” John says. “But that just means you’ll either get some angry sex, or some makeup sex! You gotta keep a woman pissed at you to keep her around, I think I’m finally figuring it all out thanks to you.”
Samuel gets the rest of the day off. I punch him in the face for being a
drunk jackass, and he gets rewarded? All right, maybe—just maybe—I shouldn’t have punched him.
Nah. He deserved it.
As we pull into the dock, I tie the ropes to the dock and watch Marv from the corner of my eyes. I thought I was mad; Marv looks like he’s about to shit a brick. Or forget a brick, he could shit an anchor.
He ignores me, and I know he’s pissed off at me, but I suspect he’s more angry with Samuel. Or maybe he’s angry at himself for letting it happen. A captain of a ship—it doesn’t matter how small the ship—is lord of his own realm. Everything and everyone within the ship is his kingdom. He’s responsible for every dumbass decision and drunken fuck-up that happens onboard. Hell, he’s probably relieved I decided to punch Samuel out at the Crab Shack and not on his ship.
“Alright, boss,” I say, jumping onto the dock.
“Go home, Mason,” he says. “Don’t worry about Samuel.”
I nod.
I’ll still worry about him, though. Especially when he’s around Sophie. I may just have to have a word with him.
When I get into my car, I feel too pissed off to just go home and sleep the day off. If I was a drunk, I’d go get blasted right now, but I’ve always too easily been able to see through the haze of alcohol for what it is. I’ve never been the kind of guy that can drink away his problems. My problems are always right there behind me. My vice was running away, not booze. I ran as hard and as fast as I could, and my demons were always right on my heels—but at least they hadn’t consumed me.
Fuck it. I won’t run again.
I start the car and head to Sophie’s place, as the sun falls below the horizon.
I don’t see her car when I get there, but I know Hank uses it sometimes. I might as well try. John may be a dumbass, but he wasn’t wrong about the makeup sex. Angry makeup sex would be even better. It’s probably the only thing that could get me to sleep at this point—tired as I am.
I knock, and wait.
Finally Hank opens the door. “Mason?”
“Hank,” I say, keeping my bloodied knuckles pointed down so he can’t see them.
“Sophie’s not here,” he says. “I think you pissed her off.”
“I know I did,” I say.
