by Strong, Mimi
His tongue twirled around my clit, one way and then the other. I ached to feel him inside me, even just his fingers, but his hands kept to my legs and ass. He brought me to the edge of coming, but not over, his touch always turning gentle and tentative as soon as my muscles tensed.
I tapped him on the shoulder.
He looked up, his chin glistening. “Yes?”
“Charlie, I need you.”
“You need me to what?”
I bit my lower lip, hesitating. Finally, I spat it out. “I need to feel you, inside me. And I want you.”
He got to his feet slowly, pausing to pull off his wet shirt. His body was magnificent, just as I remembered. His torso was lean, but not too skinny, and muscular—much thicker than male dancers, who have beautiful bodies, but in a different way.
“You want me,” he said, a smirk on his face as he looked down at my soaked blouse and the skirt hiked up around my waist.
I grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers and unfastened the button.
“I want you inside me,” I said, watching his mouth to see his smile waver. “And I want you to love me.”
He didn’t flinch as he met my gaze, his dark eyelashes covered in beads of rain. “To love you?”
I grabbed his cock in my hand. He shuddered, his shoulders rolling forward.
“Too far?” I asked, kneading him with my hand.
“Your hand was cold,” he whispered.
I stroked up and down, rolling around the head to mix his moisture with the rainwater.
“Warmer now?” I asked.
“Barely.”
I tugged him closer to me, then guided him between my legs.
He rocked the tip of his cock forward and back, along the slick crease.
“That’s much better than your cold hand,” he said.
I groaned with pleasure and rolled my head back, hitting the wood fence again, but not as hard this time.
He bent down, letting his cock rise upright between my legs, and then he plunged in.
The wooden fence squeaked in protest, swaying under our movement as he pounded me, driving hard as the rain came down in torrents.
I clutched at his back and buttocks, urging him to go harder, faster.
My boots were barely touching the ground.
Harder, faster.
He held back, until he couldn’t.
My head kept hitting the wood, but it was steady now, and I couldn’t feel anything but pleasure, pulsing out from Charlie’s cock inside me and wicking through my body. The rain on my skin was a lover’s kisses. The lightning strikes in the distance charged the air and reminded me to gasp for breath.
Charlie was hot. Burning up. His kisses were salty with his sweat.
My pussy was so wet around him, so slick, I was like pool water and he was a swimmer, diving through me effortlessly.
I couldn’t get him deep enough inside me.
“My leg,” I gasped.
He grunted, a question sort of grunt.
“Lift my leg,” I said.
He slowed, slipping out of me with delicious slowness. I bent my left knee, lifted my leg and pushed him back with my muddy boot sole on his chest.
He responded by bowing his head down and sinking his teeth gently into the inner edge of my knee, above the boot. I shook the sole free of his skin and stretched my leg way up. I rested my heel on his muscular shoulder, at the edge of his collarbone.
He looked down at me, where I was completely spread and visible for him. My legs were split, the sole of one boot on the ground and the other facing up, catching drops of rain. My legs formed one line, pink at the center. Pink at the heart.
I looked down as well, my gaze landing on his beautiful cock. He was fully engorged, not wavering one bit during the shuffling of our position. His cock gleamed, slick with my juices and the rain.
He shuffled in closer, mindful of his pants, caught at his knees. I couldn’t take my eyes off the head of his cock, deep pink and shining, as it slid into my pink folds. The dark slit seemed impossibly small, given his size, but stretched to take him inside.
His flesh was cool on the surface, refreshing as he slid into me again.
He groaned, “You’re so tight.”
“Fucking hell, you’re so big. Where do you park that thing when you’re not using it?”
He let out a short laugh. “Don’t make me laugh, or we’ll be at this for hours, and we’ll both catch pneumonia.”
“Totally worth it.”
He was only halfway in, and hesitant.
We both looked down, tilting our heads to the side and watching with fascination as his shaft slid in and out, a little deeper every time. My eyes blurred from the raindrops, just as the space between us disappeared. The short, damp curls of his pubic hair touched my skin. Cool with rainwater, I watched as the curls flattened against my skin.
Distracted by my fascination with the visuals, I was surprised when my pussy began to tremble. I was coming. Just like that.
“I’m coming,” I said, just in case the internal tremors hadn’t tipped him off.
Charlie grunted a cross between an acknowledgement and a warning.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned, my eyes rolling up as my eyelids closed.
He muttered that he was coming, too.
Lightning struck nearby, and the sound of the thunder rolling in covered the sound of my lover moaning as he came, deep inside me.
Chapter 13
Charlie
She reached around me, her hands now soft and relaxed.
We were still locked together, two puzzle pieces steaming amidst a summer storm. The urgency had left me, delivered to the center of this heavenly creature.
“Ouch,” she said.
I withdrew slowly, wincing as the contours of her pussy clutched at my sensitive dick. Out in the rain, it pitched to the side apologetically.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
She giggled, her still-visible pink ribbons closing against each other, her heel still resting up on my shoulder.
“Not there, you didn’t,” she said. “But my leg… that wasn’t the smartest move without warming up first.”
I kissed her boot, the muddy heel nestled on my shoulder. The bow had come untied. I bent forward, easing her leg back down, then tying a fresh bow in the laces. The rain came down harder, pelting my bare back.
“My underwear,” she said.
Still crouching, I pulled up my pants and retrieved the silky panties from my back pocket. I held them to my nose briefly, taking in her scent. I could smell her, but that wasn’t enough, so I leaned forward and kissed her on her pubic mound.
She moaned and twined her fingers through my damp hair.
I kept going, nudging my tongue between her damp lips. My cock pulsed with interest as I located her clit once more with the tip of my tongue.
Her skin was slick and salty, mingled with the scent of my own skin.
The little nub responded to my tongue, plumping under my touch.
She whimpered. I glanced up at her, at her soaked blouse and hard nipples, and her pleading expression. What did she want? For me to stop? To not stop?
I dropped her panties to the ground and swept my hands up the inside edges of her legs. With one finger, I stroked between her lips and slipped my finger inside her slit again.
Her blue eyes widened in surprise. I stroked her slippery insides while I leaned in for another intimate kiss. I licked, and she rocked her hips, riding my tongue.
A taste hit my mouth, like pennies. I spat the excess on the ground.
When I looked up, her eyes were wide, as if she couldn’t believe what I was doing, that I wasn’t turned off. The taste of my own come wasn’t my favorite thing—not as good as her juices—but I didn’t care. I licked her hungrily, like eating ripe fruit, and spat the excess onto the wet grass before I kept going.
She continued to rock her hips, riding my tongue to another orgasm. This one sounded more intense than the last
, though it was hard to tell amidst the sound of rain in the nearby trees and thunder crashing through the valley.
Gripping her hips tightly, I buried my face and lost myself in her as she climaxed again and again.
I would have kept going, but eventually she pushed me away.
“My legs are shaking,” she said.
She was right. Her long, muscular, perfect legs were trembling.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Are you?”
She reached down and retrieved her panties from the grass, then pulled them on. The wet material was translucent as it stretched over her knees, then clung to her pussy. I leaned in for another kiss, but she pushed me away and pulled the slim skirt back down.
“Enough,” she said. “I’ll die of exposure if I let you have your way. Put your clothes on before someone sees you.”
I stood and fastened my pants as I looked out over the golf course. “Nobody’s around. Those wimps can’t take a few drops of rain.”
The storm clouds must have heard me, because the heavens opened up and let down a flood.
By the time I turned back around, Skye had already opened the gate and was several paces away, walking quickly on shaky legs.
I scooped up my wet shirt and pulled it on as I ran after her. She wasn’t going to get away from me so easily this time.
The girl really could travel, on those long legs of hers. I was out of breath when I caught up to her, in the parking lot.
She unlocked the car’s doors with her keyfob and jumped into the driver’s side. I got into the passenger’s side, my soaking wet clothes squeaking against the vinyl upholstery.
Her blue eyes wide, she sputtered, “You followed me? Into my car?”
The rain pelted down on the car’s windows. I swept water from my face. “What else was I supposed to do? Just let you go? I don’t have your phone number. I don’t even know your last name.”
“My life is really complicated right now.”
“And me having your phone number would make things worse? How?”
“I don’t want to be the angry girl. The one who’s slapping you because you’re on to a new one already.”
“You’re still thinking about Erin? Don’t. I’ve forgotten all about her.”
“Exactly.”
“Skye, what I mean is she’s in the past. I don’t look back. You can’t do anything about the problems of the past. You can’t fix them, and you can’t change anything.”
“I’ve got to figure some things out for myself. I can’t just have you coming into my life like a wrecking ball. I’ll get hurt, that’s for sure, but someone else will, too.”
“Someone else? Who? You have a kid?”
“No, I don’t have a kid.”
“I wouldn’t care if you did.”
She bit her lower lip, turning away from me and digging in her purse for her keys before finding them already in the ignition. She started the car’s engine.
“I don’t have a kid,” she said, her voice flat. “But I do have some rent problems, so I made some decisions I thought would help with my rent problems, but that just made everything worse.”
Was my father paying her rent? I didn’t want to believe it.
“I can help,” I said. “Everything that’s done can be undone.”
She shook her head. “What’s wrong with you? Things can’t be undone.”
“Do you need money? I can give you a loan. Or a gift. You don’t even need to pay me back.”
Her upper lip curled, letting me know I’d just said the wrong thing.
“Talk to me,” I said.
“Give me some space and maybe I will.”
I reached into my wet pocket in search of my phone. “Fine. But I’m not giving you a whole month. How about a week? Give me your number and I’ll phone you in one week.”
She stared straight ahead, moving only to flick on the windshield wipers. The blades swept back and forth, back and forth.
“One week,” she said.
My phone was wet, but still working. I pulled open the screen to add a contact. She gave me a number, and I punched it in under her first name.
I warned, “That had better be your actual phone number and not your favorite pizza delivery place.”
She blinked innocently. “I never order pizza delivery.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like having them come to my door. I feel like they’re judging me, like why couldn’t I walk down the street myself to get it? And besides, there’s so much sodium in takeout food. My mouth would hate me all night.”
“Your mouth would hate you?”
She licked her lips. “You know. Pepperoni mouth. Where you just can’t get enough water. You eat that high-sodium stuff every day, you’ll get kidney damage. They put in the salt to make you think you like it.”
“But everybody likes pizza.”
“Exactly. So, why not be your own person, and actually taste things? You might love cherry tomatoes.”
“I love cherry tomatoes.”
She gave me a hint of a smile. “Me, too. Sorry I got preachy there about pizza. It’s one of my pet peeves when I’m trying to get my girls interested in nutrition.”
“Your girls? Other dancers?”
She turned away, facing the side window and spatters of rain. “I’m not a stripper.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
She turned to face me, her forehead wrinkled with annoyance. “Time to go. I shouldn’t have come here today.”
I pushed open the car door and shifted my body to step out. “I’ll call you in a week.”
“Sure, you will.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re amazing. I’m not just saying that because you can do the splits standing up, although that sort of thing definitely makes an impression on a guy. I want to get to know you.”
“You want to rescue me. I know your type. You want to scoop me up in your arms and be the big hero, but pretty soon another trainwreck will come along, and she’ll be the one you want to make you feel like a man again.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it. She wanted me to disagree, so she could fight with me. But I knew better. My mother used to always say that it takes two to tango. If you can be the bigger person and lay down your weapons, lay down your words, there won’t be any more fight.
“I’m just Charlie,” I said.
She glanced around the parking lot for a moment, then turned to meet my eyes.
“Charlie,” I repeated.
She blinked at me, her expression saying I was an idiot, but also that she was interested.
I explained, “I’m not someone from your past, or a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong in your life. From where I’m sitting, it’s clear you can take care of yourself. You say that you don’t need to be rescued, but what about me? Me, Charlie. This guy in the wet clothes. This guy who’s hoping maybe you can rescue him, because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to be doing with his life. Save me, Skye. Give me a chance.”
She leaned over to my side quickly, putting her hand on top of mine, on the door handle. I thought she was pushing me out of her car—something I had coming, for sure—but then her sweet lips landed on mine.
She kissed me hard, her rain-damp chin cool against mine, her lips and tongue burning hot just under the surface.
The car door opened, and she started to shove me out, even as she was kissing me, her hands saying go and her lips saying stay.
I tumbled out of the car, into the rain. She pulled the door shut behind me and quickly backed out of the parking stall, the engine of the car rattling like it was long overdue for a service call.
I stood in the rain for another minute, until I began to shiver.
I ran back to the building, letting myself in a side door. I was walking down the steps to the maintenance room to grab a uniform to wear while my clothes hung up to dry when I heard a popping sound, followed by a crackle
.
With an uneasy feeling, I pulled my phone from my very wet pocket. The screen was dead.
I’d just nuked my phone, along with Skye’s phone number.
Chapter 14
Skye
I wasn’t surprised when Charlie didn’t call me. A week was a long time, and he either figured out I wasn’t worth the trouble, or already found some other girl to rescue in the meantime.
Out of all the reasons I could have given him about why I couldn’t jump into being his girlfriend, my fear of hurting my roommate’s feelings seemed incredibly stupid in retrospect.
My roommate had been avoiding me, but by the second day of May, I knew it wasn’t because of his pride or a broken heart. Rent was due on the first, and his share hadn’t yet materialized.
I got ready for work and left him a sternly-worded note, taped to the microwave, where he’d be sure to see it. He didn’t have to come up with all of that month’s money at once, but I did need something, as a show of good faith.
When I got to work at the community center, I passed through the admin office to drop off a soy-milk latte for Gloria. Without any help on my rent, I shouldn’t have been splurging on drinks with whipped cream, but the promise of the sugar fix had been the only thing getting me through the day without crying.
I set Gloria’s drink on her desk.
She looked up at me, her sharp brown eyes seeing right down to my bones, as always.
“You can still call him,” she said. “It’s only been nine days since… the thunderstorm. Phone his work, or I will.” She picked up the handset of the telephone on her desk, muttering about needing to do everything herself.
I lunged at the phone, hanging it up with a clatter that made heads pop up over the sound-dampening dividers of the adjoining cubicles.
One of the people who’d looked our way stood up. “Summer?” she asked.
I stopped breathing. Summer is as much my name as Skye. It’s my middle name, and the one I used on stage. As a stripper.
The only people who called me that name were other strippers, or clients.
I took a tiny breath. At least this time it was a girl.
