by Bebe Wilde
“Oh God,” I moaned, allowing the atmosphere and the lust in my body to take over. “Fuck me, Cold Hard Cash,” I moaned. “Fuck me.”
“You’re drunk,” he said, still kissing me.
Yeah, drunk with lust. “Come on,” I said and ran my lips over his again. “Let’s do it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked and pressed his body closer to mine.
“I am,” I moaned wanting it so badly I couldn’t think straight. And it had been a while for me. I needed sex and he was there. Why the fuck not?
He stared at me and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
I didn’t answer. I pushed myself onto him and kissed him again, kissed him hard, ramming my tongue into his open and waiting mouth, allowing him to suck at it then offer me his to suck on and to play with. We ate at each other and my nipples rose up in need, needing to be toyed with, needing to be touched and suckled and pinched, just a little. And then he did. His big hands came up and cupped my bare breasts, squeezing them and then he pinched the nipples, a little harder than I expected but that just added to the intensity of the situation. And the situation was that we were standing in the ocean. I was nearly naked and he was kissing me, playing with my nipples and I wanted more.
“Touch me down there,” I whispered in his ear and nibbled at his earlobe. “Between my legs. Touch me. Please, touch me.”
He complied and cupped me there, down there, squeezing me gently as his mouth found mine again and began to suck at my lips. He bent me back a little so that my hair was in the water, then pulled me back up. I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and he walked us back to the beach and laid me down on the sand.
My hands were in his short hair, grabbing at it, pulling at it, then they went down his back, along his strong back. He rose up and pulled his soaking shirt off and threw it to the side. I grabbed onto his pants, slipping my hand inside them and found his cock. Oh, wow. He was hung. He was big and I mean big. I’d never felt one quite that large but it pleased me to no end. Sure, I had gotten an idea of how big it was at the show, but to see and touch it in real life was quite another thing entirely.
I pulled at his shorts until they came off him along with his boxers and then he was naked. But I still had my panties on. He kissed my lips, then my cheek, sliding his tongue along my neck and then between my breasts and down my stomach. He paused at the top of my panties then grabbed hold of them with his teeth and pulled them off until I was naked like him. He began to eat at me a little, moving my legs apart until I moaned. I let him go for a good few minutes but then I knew what I wanted and what I wanted was his hard dick inside of me.
I tugged at his shoulders until he kissed his way back to my mouth and my legs opened wide. He settled between them and then he was in. Ahh! Fuck! Yes! His dick felt so good, like it needed to be there, inside of me, fucking me. And fuck me he did. It didn’t take me a minute to get my groove on before I was pushing against him, grabbing onto his ass and getting as much out of him as I could get before the orgasm hit. And when it hit, it hit hard. I let out a wail as it came at me and claimed me as its own.
He was right there with me and he finished right after me. We kissed as the orgasms swept through our bodies and kept kissing until they left us panting and wanting more. He stayed on top of me, inside of me, owning me for a long moment before he fell off and breathed heavily, staring up at the sky.
“Wow,” I said and propped my head up with my elbow. “That was fan-fucking-tastic!”
He grinned. “It was, wasn’t it?”
I kissed him, licking his lips as I did so, then pulled back. “I never did anything like that before.”
“Me either.”
I leaned back and stared at him. “What?”
He eyed me. “What do you mean what?”
“I mean, what,” I said. “You’ve never had sex on the beach before. You?”
“No,” he said, then paused. “Does that come as a surprise?”
“Well, yeah, you’re a stripper,” I said.
“It doesn’t make me a man whore,” he said.
“Oh,” I said and thought about it. “So, I’m your first, sort of like you’re a virgin?”
He cracked up. “In a way, yes.”
“Cool,” I said and bit my bottom lip. “Just so you know, I’m not a slut. I don’t do stuff with every guy I meet. And it’s been a while for me and I was a little drunk and—”
“Shh,” he said and pulled me to him, kissing me softly. He pulled back and stared me dead in the eye. “No need to explain.”
I smiled and then I stared at him, at his handsome face and those eyes… I couldn’t get over how gorgeous they were, those eyes, how beautiful and gray with the thick black eyelashes. I could get lost in them, like in some country song or something. I began to feel something then, something I’d never felt before. It was totally new and it felt right. I didn’t know it, but I was sure I was feeling love, real love, genuine love. And the way he stared back at me, I knew he felt it too.
I wanted him again. I wanted him so badly. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Take me home and fuck me again. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me as long as you fuck me.”
I’d never said anything like that to a man before but I was beside myself with lust. I had to have him again. Now.
He moaned as I kissed at his lips, then pushed me back gently. “Okay, but first you need to put your dress back on.”
“Maybe you should put your clothes back on, too,” I said.
So he did and I did. We put our still wet clothes on and then we walked to his condo which was just two blocks from the beach. I didn’t get a good look at it. I think it was nice, but I didn’t really care what it looked like. I just wanted to know where the bed was.
We didn’t have time to find it because we were kissing and coming out of our wet clothes as soon as he opened the front door. He pressed his naked body against mine, kissing me deeply. He was hard and ready. I was wet and ready. It was time.
He bent me over the arm of his couch and pushed my legs open. And then he eased it in, his hard cock filling me up. He leaned over to squeeze my breast with one hand before he started fucking me. Soon, he was power-driving into me. I couldn’t do anything but hang on for the ride and what a ride it was.
“Ahh!” I moaned, loving every second of it. “Ahh! Yes!”
Then he gave my ass a good, hard slap. “Ouch!” I exclaimed, a little surprised. But then he rubbed it a little and I realized I liked it and wanted another. He gave it to me, slapping my ass hard before squeezing it.
“Oh, yeah,” I said and rose up, grabbing his hand and bringing it to my breast so he could squeeze it. He licked at my neck and fucked me from behind and it was almost too much to take. I bent back down and he fucked me some more. It was good and dirty and like nothing I’d ever experienced. I wanted more.
I pushed against him then he stopped and pulled out, turned me over onto my back and pushed me back onto the couch. He settled between my legs and his cock slipped right in, like it belonged there. And we slowed down, almost methodically, and we fucked. He kissed me as he fucked me, sucked at my neck and then bent to take a nipple into his mouth. I arched away from the couch at that and then I felt it. I felt the orgasm. It was quick and it wanted release. Before I could stop it, it came at me and I grabbed onto him, digging my nails into his back as I came and came hard.
He pumped into me and then pulled out and squirted his hot cum all over my stomach. I rubbed it into my skin, staring him in the eye as I did so, then tasted it from my fingers. His mouth dropped as I did that and I grinned at him, loving just how dirty I was getting. But then again, it was his fault. He had brought it out in me.
“Wanna stay over?” he asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied.
* * * * *
Yeah, his condo was cool. After we took a long shower together to get the smell of the sea off each other, we plopped into his b
ig bed. The sheets were of a very high thread count and felt divine on my naked skin. Then we went to sleep. Yeah. For the first time in my life, I slept naked. I was doing a lot of firsts—going to an all male revue, meeting a handsome stripper on the beach, having wild sex. Miami was turning out to be the best time ever.
I awoke with the sun streaming in from the French doors that lead out onto the balcony. Cash was nowhere around. I smiled to myself, thinking of all the downright naughty things we’d done last night and snuggled into the bed. Then I looked around at all the tasteful furnishings. The bed had this cool weathered leather headboard and the nightstands were smaller steamer trunks. I looked around the room, noticing the nice subway art prints on the wall and the gigantic weathered wood dresser. The guy had some serious taste.
I smiled again and closed my eyes.
“Good morning,” he said and slipped into bed with me. “Still sleepy?”
“Ummm,” I said. “You’re up early.”
“You could say that,” he said and nuzzled my neck with his nose.
“Ummm,” I said and loved the way he was touching me.
He spooned me and I smiled. He had only pajama bottoms on but I could feel his hard dick through them. He started rubbing up against me and I moved with him as his hands began to wander along my body, pausing to brush the hair from my shoulder to kiss the nape of my neck, taking time to squeeze my breast before going lower to my pussy lips, which he parted with his fingers and slid in, exploring me down there, taking the time to get my juices flowing. I pulled his pajama bottoms down and his dick popped out, hard and ready to fill me.
Without a word, he pulled my legs apart and stuck his cock in. We lay on our sides and made love. It was a slow process, divine and rich in feeling. And I felt it everywhere on my body. I tingled from head to toe and wanted more and more.
His hand came around and rested on my clit as he fucked me, as he took me. I began to move against it and felt the orgasm start. I moaned as his other hand squeezed my breast and pinched my nipple.
“Ahh,” I moaned, really feeling so good. “I love the way you fuck me.”
“Mmmm,” he moaned softly in my ear. “I love to do it.”
“Keep doing that,” I whispered and held out for the orgasm. I didn’t want this feeling to end; I wanted it to stay forever. I felt so alive yet so grounded and yet so real. It was like nothing in the world mattered but this feeling and what he was doing to me.
He kept at it, but I could tell he was holding himself back from coming and, as much I wanted to continue to do this, I couldn’t help myself. It was too much. I came, the orgasm releasing millions upon millions of good tiny feelings inside of me. It was like warm sunshine just burst inside of me. I shook with it and held onto his hand, which was still between my legs. While I was still flushed with orgasm, he came, pumping into me and finding his release.
Once I was done, he was coming and pumped into me until he finished.
We didn’t move for a while, only laid there and rubbed up against each other. I turned around and held him, kissing him softly and he held me tight, pulling me as close to him as he could get me.
I smiled and said, “Now, that’s the best way to wake a girl up in the morning.”
“I’ll say,” he said. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” I said but didn’t want him to go.
“Then I’ll fix us something,” he said and gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the bed. He adjusted his pajama bottoms then pointed to the dresser. “I’ve got you something to wear,” he said. “They’re big but they’ll get you back to the hotel.”
I smiled as he left the room and glanced at the clothes—a super old but super comfy looking t-shirt and a pair of jean cutoffs. My panties and bra, which were now clean and fresh smelling, were folded neatly on top. I slipped them on, then the big t-shirt and then the shorts which almost fell off of me. I hiked them up and went out into the open living area. It was nice. The kitchen was at the back and the cabinets were dark wood and the appliances stainless steel. The floor looked really old, but I could tell it was refurbished oak from an old house or barn somewhere and very, very expensive. The couch was a vintage brown leather Chesterfield and the coffee table was an old looking wood box thing piled high with vintage coffee table books.
He didn’t have a dining table. He had a peninsula built out and four cool looking wood stools under them for seating. The counter was a slab of concrete and so trendy and beautiful I almost asked him to marry me.
“I love your condo,” I said. “When can I move in?”
He chuckled and said, “Today,” with slight sarcasm and grinned at me.
“No, seriously, this is the coolest place ever.”
“Thanks,” he said and flipped an omelet onto a plate. “But I can’t take credit for it. An old girlfriend helped me. She’s an interior decorator. As for everything else, the place was pretty much already done when I moved in.”
“And old girlfriend?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We’re still friends. Are you friends with your ex?”
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
He chuckled and said, “Maybe a little,” then slid a steaming plate of food in front of me.
It was an omelet. A steak and cheese and mushroom omelet. I looked at him. “This is my favorite kind.”
“Mine, too,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“Yup,” he said.
“Look at us,” I said. “We have something in common besides sex.”
He threw his head back and laughed loudly. “But that’s not a bad thing to have in common, is it?”
“Not when it’s that good, baby,” I told him then checked myself. Baby? I just called him baby! I never said stuff like this! And I certainly never flirted like this either. But it was him; he was bringing all this out in me. Maybe it there the whole time and I just had to meet the right man to bring it out. I froze. The right man? Had I lost my mind? Yes, I had. I had to keep in mind that this was just a little sex. And he was a stripper. He’d probably done this dozens of times. It was probably a routine with him by now. I knew the drill without even ever having gone through it: He’d fucked me. Now he was feeding me. Next he’d tell me it was okay to keep the clothes. And, lastly, he’d send me on my way. He wasn’t about to get involved with the likes of me, a person who didn’t even live in the same city as he did.
But if only… No. I stopped myself.
“How’s the omelet?” he asked.
I picked up the fork and took a bite and it melted like butter in my mouth. “Oh, my God!” I moaned. “That is delicious!”
He grinned. “I make the best. We use my recipe at the diner.”
“The one I saw you at last night?” I asked curiously.
He nodded. “Yeah, I own it. It’s mine. Well, I own it with a business partner.”
My mouth dropped. Not only was he a stripper, but he was an entrepreneur, too? Wow. Was he, like, real? I mean, I’d never come across a man like this if he wasn’t in some romantic comedy or something. It was a little weird. I felt a little weird. And he could cook! WTF!
“So, let me get this straight,” I said. “You own a diner and you are a stripper?”
“I own the showcase, too,” he said. “But I’ll retire in a few years. I can’t do this much longer. I’m in my thirties now.”
“But you’re a stripper,” I said, thinking he was skewing my whole view of the world. Weren’t strippers supposed to be, like, bad with money and not exactly intelligent? Where had I heard that? Had I heard that or just made assumptions? I didn’t know. The next thing I knew, he would tell me he was doing this to pay for college.
“I got into it to pay for college,” he said.
I almost fell out of my chair.
“But then I realized I liked it and the money is great,” he said. “And I figured out if I saved some money, I could have a house. So I saved and bought this condo. I would have built up equity, too, if only the housin
g market was worth a shit now.”
I just stared at him. Was he for real?
“Then I began to understand that I was working for someone and they were making all the money while I did all the work. So, I formed my own dance company. We do gigs all over the country and even some outside the country, too. Australian girls love us.”
I just stared at him again. How was I supposed to respond to that? I couldn’t think of anything so I said, “I’ve always wanted to go to Australia.”
He pointed at me and winked. “Next time we go, you can come with me.”
Come with him? I couldn’t help but glance at the door. What was going on? Had I entered the Twilight Zone or something? This guy was acting like… Well, like he liked me. I mean, I know he liked me, I just didn’t think he liked me.
“Australia is so cool,” he said. “The Great Barrier Reef? Oh, you have to see that!”
Was he going to take me? I checked him out. He was acting like he really wanted me to go with him. So I got a free trip out of this? WTF? No, seriously, what the fuck?
“But, yeah,” he said, leaning on the counter. “I had to be smart, my parents taught me that. I told them I was a stripper and after they got over the shock and realized they couldn’t change my mind, they told me to save that money and invest it. I did. I’ve been smart with my investments, too. I mean, I want to have plenty for when I have a family, you know? I want to get married and have kids. Don’t you?”
I was going to pass out. I had never had a guy talk about marriage within the first twenty-four hours of meeting them. In fact, most avoided it like the plague, like if they spoke of it, I’d be all over them, begging them to marry me. Sure, they were assholes, but still. This was the reason my ex and I broke up. He didn’t want to get married. But then, maybe that was because there was something wrong with him. He was a few years older than me and still running around like he was in his early twenties, going to bars and trying to pick up women. In a few years, he was going to look pathetic. But me? What about me? How did I look? I didn’t know.
“Myra?” he said. “What about you? Don’t you want to get married?”
