Losing It - After a Day at the Beach

by Rebeka Rose

  And then, something took over me, and I just started moving, rocking back and forth to see what felt nice. Now that he was inside me, I was surprised by how different it felt than just grinding against each other. I'd always loved the feeling of his hard erection against my pubic bone, and now I missed having it there. I adjusted my position so the front of my mound was in contact with his body, his hard lower abdominal muscles. That was different, but it felt good, too.

  Jason closed his eyes, his face tense, like he was concentrating.

  The cock inside me started to feel more normal as I moved up and down. My whole pussy felt hot and my thoughts were fuzzy, and I moved faster, with more urgency.

  I leaned forward, putting my hands on his muscular chest, and I kept rocking, moving back and forth, my inner muscles squeezing around his big cock. I slowed for a moment to reach down and touch him at the edge of my pussy, staring in amazement that he was inside me. I was stretched around him, but it didn't hurt. Everything was tingling, like there were stars and comets shooting through us.

  I leaned forward even more, my breasts against his chest. To keep the movement, I put my elbows on either side of his chest, and kissed him as I moved up and down, and that felt even better at that angle. My clit was rubbing against his body, and everything was more intense with my folds stretching across that thick, hard part of him. My back started to sweat, and now he was also moving, thrusting his strong hips underneath mine, sometimes faster than me, sometimes slower.

  I moaned right into his mouth and grabbed on tight, wrapping my arms under his shoulders. Our chests were wet and sticking together, our bodies so close and still moving, and I felt the starbursts of an orgasm.

  I whispered, “I'm cumming.”

  He had his hands on my ass, and he used his strong arms to move me up and down on his body like a doll, grinding me down against his hardness.

  As I came, I melted like ice cream across his hot chest.

  My insides were still pulsing, the end of my orgasm submerging like the sun into the sea. He grabbed my ass and held on tight as he rolled the both of us over, until he was on top.

  His face red now, he started pumping me the way I wanted him to.

  The weight of him on me was comforting and sexy. I cried out in pleasure, and I had no words.

  I spread my legs wider, letting him in deeper and deeper, until finally I wrapped my legs up around his back.

  He pumped away, his balls slapping against my body.

  I cried out in pleasure, saying, “Yes, yes, yes!” I was cumming again, or still having the same orgasm, I couldn't tell, but I didn't want it to ever stop.

  His cock felt bigger than ever inside me, and so hard, like a clenched fist.

  He gasped and then held his breath. His movements were jerky and sudden, and he grunted.

  He thrust into me once and held still, pausing, then a second thrust, then a third.

  A low moan came out of his lips like a growl, turning my insides to butter.

  He collapsed against me. I unwound my ankles from behind his back and rested my legs on the bed. I patted him on the back.

  Smiling, I said sweetly, “Did you cum?”

  His face buried in my hair at the side of my neck, he chuckled and said, “What do you think?”

  After a moment, I felt a small movement—him softening and slipping out of me, spent.

  “Oh, be careful,” I said.

  “Right.” He reached down and grasped the base of the condom and withdrew slowly.

  I held my breath. “We didn't break it, did we?”

  “We're ship-shape. It's all in the reservoir tip.” He turned away and sat on the edge of the bed. “Wow, that's a lot of cum.”

  “I wanna see.” I crawled over and tried to peek. “I'm curious, okay? Don't be embarrassed.”

  “Fine.” He moved his hand away.

  I reached out and poked at the white mixture trapped in the tip. “Is that a lot?”

  “Don't make fun.”

  “I'm not! I don't know. You're my first lover.”

  He swallowed hard, his gulp the only sound in my bedroom.

  The words hung in the air: my first lover.

  Now what?

  I woke up early the next morning, before six o'clock, my heart thudding in my chest. My mouth tasted of ash from the bonfire, and I was dehydrated, but completely sober.

  The previous evening came back to me in waves: first pleasant memories, and then some horrible ones, like me saying all those filthy things to Jason. I'd begged him to fuck me? What was I, a porn star?

  I expected to find him somewhere in the house, possibly in the guest room, but I was all alone. Strangely, though, I wasn't sad.

  He was still leaving, moving away to college, and we were still broken up, as far as I knew, but it didn't hurt like before. My heart felt light, and I wondered what my friends were up to. My best friend, Aurora, would be getting back from her job as a summer camp counselor, and we had plans together that evening.

  The cat, Rufus, jumped up on the bed and gave me a knowing look.

  “I'm not a virgin,” I said to him.

  He gave me a near-silent, pathetic meow—the kind he uses to get sympathy treats.

  As I got up, fed Rufus, and then showered, I tried to remember details from the night before, so I could tell Aurora everything.

  When I stepped out of the shower, the phone was ringing, and I ran, soaking wet, down the hall to get it.

  “Too early?” he said. It was Jason.

  “Not too early. I just got out of the shower.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “Naked.”

  “Shh! Don't tell anyone.”

  His voice got serious. “I won't. I seriously won't tell anyone about last night.”

  “Good,” I said, though I made no such promise.

  “So, I'm leaving in a few hours.”

  I crumpled to the floor. “But it's only August.”

  “Do you want me to come over? I could swing by.”

  “No. You're probably busy with … packing.”

  “I want to say goodbye.”

  “Let's pretend we said goodbye last night, and it was perfect. You tucked me into bed, and that's the last thing I remember.”

  He didn't say anything. I could hear his mother squawking away in the background. Jason's mother. I had not missed that woman.

  I whispered, “Send me a postcard.”

  “I will,” he said.

  I hung up the phone.

  Aurora came over around four o'clock and found me in my closet, trying on everything I owned and making piles of things to give away.

  “I heard,” she said. “Jason.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You just got back in town and you already know?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I don't even want to know who told you.”

  “I hope he apologized.” She fell back on my bed, arms outstretched.

  “I had sex with him.”

  She shrieked and scrambled back off my bed. “Ew. On your bed?”

  I started to smile, and then I started to laugh.

  And I knew everything was going to be just fine.

  Jason would go off to college, and I wouldn't fall to pieces.

  I was fine for a day or two, and then I found the stuffed elephant, our pretend son Hugo, in one of my drawers. Jason must have gone out to his Jeep, grabbed it, and come back into the house while I was sleeping, then hidden it for me.

  Why would he do such a thing? There was no note, and I didn't understand the gesture. He was always so mysterious, with all his rules about how things had to be. Jason seemed to have a set of life instructions that nobody else knew about.

  I sat with the elephant and cried over the idea nobody would ever love me again. I'd have the memory of Jason, and know that once upon a time, a boy did love me, but it would never happen again.

  By October, I hardly thought about him at all.

  In December, right before Christmas, I started going out with Andy, o
fficially. I was still working at the restaurant on weekends, and everyone there kept telling me it was “about time” Andy and I got together.

  Andy wasn't Jason, but I wouldn't say he was any less of a boyfriend. I loved that he said exactly what he was thinking instead of making me guess. And that he complimented me every time he saw me, even if I was just wearing sweatpants.

  We had sex for the first time on Valentine's Day, and it was awkward and exciting and terrible and amazing, all at once.

  I was twenty-five years old when I kissed Jason again, for the first time since the night we lost our virginity together.

  He'd actually been married—married!—to a woman and quickly divorced in the interim. He didn't want to talk about it, but I'd gotten the details from mutual friends. Everything was final, and they'd been separated for nearly two years. His friends all said she was crazy, and I did wonder for a moment if he'd made her crazy, but then I saw him waiting for me at the airport, and I couldn't think anything negative about him.

  He looked so tall and handsome, exactly how I remembered, but even more of a man. His blond hair was shaggy, touching his shirt collar, which was so unlike the old Jason.

  His parents had moved out of my town shortly after he left for school, so we'd never run into each other by accident, though sometimes I'd catch myself spending extra time on my hair or makeup, daydreaming about bumping into him while out getting my car insurance renewed, or buying orange juice.

  This visit, with me flying in to see him, had taken some arranging. I'd been so nervous, I'd barely eaten more than a few corn chips on the flight.

  I walked toward him, and he started walking toward me, both of picking up speed, and we practically collided as we hugged.

  He kissed me on the lips without hesitation, and when we finally pulled apart, he was grinning, ear to ear.

  “Your teeth,” I said.

  “Caps,” he said, tapping the two front ones that had always overlapped slightly.

  “Any other parts get replaced or upgraded?”

  He laughed and squeezed me tight, lifting me up off my feet.

  We got back to his place—a modest house he'd bought with some help from his family—and he showed me around. I wheeled my suitcase behind me and parked it next to the small bed in the guest room.

  I deliberately chose the guest room because I wanted to be clear I had no plans that would conflict with his rules.

  Of course, we were both single. I'd only split up with Chris a month earlier—he was the third man I loved, after Jason and then Andy—and it was the first time in years that both Jason and I had been unattached at the same time. We'd kept in touch, but not so much as to make our partners jealous.

  Now it was a different story.

  We stood in the guest room, chatting about his planned renovations.

  Abruptly, he stopped talking and pointed to the suitcase. “I don't know about that.”

  I frowned. “What don't you know?”

  “This room.” He looked at me sideways. “Doesn't get very good light.”

  I felt my face shift into relaxation, my lips smirking with amusement. “Seems bright enough now.”

  “Well, now, yes. The sun's going down, though. This room is depressing in the morning.”

  I grabbed the handle of the suitcase. “Show me the other rooms, and I'll pick a different one.”

  He led the way, showing me the main bathroom, the TV den, and then the master bedroom. He had a king-sized bed with navy blue sheets and bedspread. That was just so Jason, to have dark blue sheets.

  “This room's nice,” I said. “I'll just leave my suitcase in here, and I'll make up my mind after dinner.”

  He quirked up one eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  “Are you cooking or taking me out?”

  “What would you prefer?”

  I unfastened the top button of my blouse. “Actually, I'm not very hungry.” I hoped he didn't notice my hand was shaking.

  “Me neither.”

  I undid the second button.

  He took a few steps to close the distance between us. “Let me help you with that.” He grinned, showing off those new front teeth. They looked good. I liked them.

  He finished unfastening my blouse and let it drop to the floor.

  “Wow. I sure missed these,” he said, fondling my breasts through my bra.

  “Jason, don't talk about my boobs like I'm not even here.” I laughed, because I'd said that exact phrase about a thousand times when we were together, and saying it now drew attention to the time that had passed.

  He knelt down and stuck his face between them. “Mm, never mind her. She's just jealous of what we have.”

  I tried to pull away, but he had his arms around me, holding me tight, like he was never going to let me go again.

  “I missed you too,” I said.

  “This is good, though. This feels right.”

  “Did you tell your mother I was coming?”

  “And have her ruin everything? No way. Besides, won't it be more fun to just show up at her house tomorrow morning for coffee?”

  “She never liked me.”

  He didn't disagree.

  “That's fine,” I said. “Mothers are protective. She only wanted what was best for you. Look at you now, with a great job at an engineering firm, and this house, all yours.”

  He tugged at my hands, pulling me down to the floor where he was. The carpet was soft and looked brand new. I sat with my knees tucked to one side, and Jason ran his fingertips across my collar bone and then up and down my arms.

  His touch set me on fire, and I wanted him inside me again.

  He said, “When I was getting divorced, I thought I didn't have anything to live for, but then I thought of you. I dreamed that maybe one day we could be together.”

  I rubbed his leg. “Jay, you sure know how to put on the pressure.”

  He broke into a grin, casting his eyes down. “I just heard how that sounded. I don't feel that way now, of course. I was pretty depressed.”

  “I've had a few tough breakups as well. I think all breakups are tough, no matter what.”

  He glanced up at me. “We both have our battle wounds.”

  I put my hand over his chest, feeling his warmth through his button-down shirt. “Doesn't feel like anything's broken.”

  He pulled away and stood up, then helped me to my feet. I thought he was going to suggest I get my shirt back on and we go for dinner, as planned, but he led me over to his bed.

  He undressed me slowly, kissing every square inch of me as he went.

  He lay me back on the bed and quickly pulled off all his clothes except for his boxer shorts. I could see his penis within the shorts, pushing up and trying to get out the hem. Had he always been so enormous? No wonder I'd felt so full with him inside me.

  All my confusing feelings, love mixed with sadness and anxiety about what the future held, slipped away as my pulse pounded in the front of my throat. It was happening.

  He climbed up alongside me and we kissed as he stroked my thighs with one hand. He moved to that tender spot between my legs, and I whimpered with my need for him.

  He took his time, even though I wanted to rush, and he rubbed my pussy, then moved down and sunk his face between my legs, licking at my clit and gently sucking on the tender folds of flesh. He brought me to the edge of climax, then pulled back, once even blowing gently on my pussy to tease me.

  Finally, I kicked him away, sat up, and started opening the drawers in the nightstand table.

  “Where are the things?” I demanded. “Would you just fuck me already?”

  “So bossy,” he said, and he pulled down his shorts.

  “Oh, right.” I grabbed his arm and tossed him back against the bed. He'd filled out a little, gaining a few pounds, but he was still muscular, and hard. So hard.

  I licked him from his balls to the tip of his cock, and then back down again. He moaned in pleasure, but stayed still.

  My jaw clicked
as I opened my mouth wide to take him in. He'd recently showered, so I had to breathe deeply to take in his musk. The smell of him, and the feel of him in my mouth drove me crazy. I was practically writhing, rocking my hips as I sucked and licked.

  He cleared his throat, and I looked sideways to see a packet in his hand.

  I gave him one more deep, strong suck, then pulled away.

  He rolled the condom down, and I immediately straddled him and pressed the head to my opening. I closed my eyes.

  His hands were on my hips, pushing me down, driving me onto him. Unlike our first time, this condom was lubricated, and I slid down easily in one stroke, gasping when my body made contact with his hips.

  “Talk dirty,” he said.

  I rocked back and forth on his cock, feeling the length and width of him inside me, my nerve endings crackling with pleasure.

  “Do it,” he said.

  I snapped, “I am doing it.”

  “Yeah, but talk dirty.” He whispered, “Tell me to fuck you.”

  I grabbed his shoulders and started bouncing up and down harder, shaking my breasts. I'd never talked dirty to a guy during sex, not since my first time with Jason, and I'd been drinking that night, uninhibited.

  He whispered, “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

  I dug my fingertips into his shoulders and closed my eyes.

  I moaned and let out all the sounds I was feeling, all the noises I'd never dared make. And I told him to fuck me. I talked about his big, fat cock, and slamming it into me, and making me cum, and filling me up with his creamy spunk. I said all those dirty words, and a bunch more.

  When I finally opened my eyes, he had a look of perfect contentment on his face, and he grabbed my hips with his hands and moved me up and down on his shaft. I leaned forward, with my elbows on either side of him so I could get more friction on my clit, grinding it against the muscles of his pelvis. Oh, he was so hard, and so big, and he made me cum immediately, sweating and moaning and saying all those dirty words.

  He didn't let up, though, but kept going, changing positions, and getting me into doggie style, where he finally came, slamming into me from behind, his body slapping my sweat-damp buttocks.