What She Needs

by Lacey Alexander

  Jenna instantly but politely declined, saying, “I just want to watch,” yet felt better having been asked, silly as it seemed.

  Not that she really wanted to watch—but she wanted to be comfortable watching. She wanted to be a woman who could lie here naked on an island, comfortable watching two other women pleasure each other. Or . . . did she mostly want to be that kind of woman for Brent?

  Either way, she watched, feeling wild and free as they touched each other, soon kissing—but then she got up, putting on nothing but the wedge slip-ons she’d worn here, and began to make her way around the pool.

  “Where are you going?” Chrissy stopped kissing Natasha to ask.

  Jenna smiled lightly and replied, “Just taking a little walk—I’ll be right back.”

  After which she left the two women to slink off into the bushes to find Brent—surprisingly comfortable, even happy, to stroll up to him naked in the hot sun. She discovered him reclining in a lounge chair in shorts, a T-shirt, and the baseball cap she’d noticed before. She put her hands on her hips, challenging him—even as she kept her voice low. “What’s going on here, mister?”

  She got a little wet again as his eyes roamed her body. “You’re going on, honey,” he said quietly. “Look at you—Little Mary Sunshine walking around naked and gorgeous, getting her pussy eaten by a pretty girl at the pool.”

  She simply arched one brow in reply. “I guess you think you’re sneaky.”

  He gave his head a tilt. “I did. Until you saw me. That kind of ruined the sneaky element for me,” he informed her with a grin.

  She moved on to the heart of the matter. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Very much,” he answered deeply. “I’m very proud of you.”

  His commendation warmed her. “Good.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  She drew in her breath and answered honestly, as she always did with Brent. “More than I might have thought.”

  He continued appearing well pleased. “I’m glad. You looked amazing, by the way. Kissing her. Sucking her tits. And when she was eating you, I loved the way you massaged your breasts and didn’t hide how good it felt.”

  Her cunt quaked lightly at his blunt words and she admitted, “I guess you’ve taught me something about that.”

  “You’re a good student.”

  She cast a teasing look. “So I don’t need any more punishment from Father Powers?”

  He offered another grin in reply. “No, I’m afraid you’re not misbehaving so much anymore, sunshine.”

  “Would this be considered misbehaving?” she inquired, then lifted one leg over his chair, lowering her naked body to straddle him. She pressed her palm to his hard-on, finding him gloriously big. Mmm.

  A hot sigh left him just before he said with a dirty little smile, “Yes, honey, definitely. But you’d better get off me or you’ll give me away.”

  “To those two? With all the noise they’re making?” Chrissy and Natasha had gotten quite loud now and Jenna was, frankly, happier to be over here. “I want this,” she told him, giving his erection a sexy squeeze.

  Brent looked amused yet admonishing. “Well, sunshine, as the Rolling Stones once said, you can’t always get what you want.”

  Which irritated her. “Why not?”

  “Because this isn’t that kind of fantasy.”

  “What kind of fantasy?”

  “A cock fantasy,” he said.

  As more need welled in Jenna’s chest, she leaned inward and whispered in his ear. “I hate to tell you this, but all of my real fantasies are cock fantasies.” Especially since meeting you. Though she left that part out.

  She saw him draw in his breath, his expression of humor beginning to edge into something more like arousal. Yet still he said, “It’s not that I wouldn’t love to, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?” She didn’t want to sound pouty, but she was starting to feel that way.

  It surprised her when his face grew clouded, troubled. “Oh so many reasons,” he murmured, perhaps more to himself than to her.

  She blinked at him. “You’re serious. You’re seriously not going to fuck me?” She feared she might be talking too loud at this point, but she almost didn’t care.

  “Not now, honey,” Brent told her, keeping his voice soft as he lifted one hand to her cheek. “Like I said, I’d love to, but you’re not the only one in a fantasy right now, and if your girlfriend over there finds me here, it fucks up hers.”

  “It didn’t fuck up mine. It helped it,” she went so far as to admit.

  “Don’t say that,” he told her gently.

  “Why?”

  He pursed his lips slightly. “You were supposed to do this without knowing I was here. You were supposed to do it just because it felt good.”

  She bit her lip, and gave him still more truth. “It did feel good. But it felt better after I saw you.”

  Brent narrowed his gaze on her, and she waited for some kind of ad monishment, but instead he simply said, “So maybe we learned something new here. Little Miss Sunshine gets off on being watched.”

  By you. She nearly said it, but didn’t. Instead she simply acknowledged, “Maybe.”

  “That’s good to know,” he replied—but at the same time, he began raising her off him, his hands on her ass, pushing upward.

  She balanced on her knees, still astride him, and couldn’t resist trying one last time. Dangling her tits near his face, she whispered, “You’re really going to leave me here, soaking wet for you?”

  He gave her a look. “Quit torturing me and get back to your fantasy.” Then he proceeded to lift her further, until she had no choice but to stand.

  To her surprise, he stood up, too.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

  She tilted her head. “What am I supposed to do about being, you know, turned on?”

  “You have two perfectly capable partners over there, sunshine,” he reminded her with a sly smile.

  “You’re evil,” she replied, lifting her gaze to his.

  “That’s right,” he answered. “I’m a very bad boy.” And with that, he kissed her hard, deep, reaching down to stroke his fingers smoothly through her pussy. When he’d ended the kiss and backed away just slightly, he slid those same fingers in his mouth, quickly sucking them clean. “You’re right, sunshine—you’re soaking.”

  Then he reached around to smack her bottom, adding, “Be sure you put some sunscreen on this pretty ass,” just before he walked away.

  Jenna watched the rest of the fantasy, still not knowing exactly whose fantasy it was, but didn’t get involved. Despite her poolside orgasm, she remained almost painfully aroused, but as she’d suspected, she just really wasn’t all that into the girl thing if Brent wasn’t there. The fact that he’d left her that way was both frustrating and infuriating.

  When she returned to her room, though, she discovered a package on her bed—a narrow box of hot pink wrapped with a white ribbon. Upon removing the lid and pushing aside white tissue paper, she couldn’t have been more stunned to discover—oh Lord!—a bright pink penis-shaped vibrator! Brent’s gifts never ceased to surprise her, that was for sure.

  Then she saw the note.

  Pretend this is me, sunshine. Sorry I had to leave you that way. Tonight when I’m having an orientation dinner with my new guest, Danny, I’ll secretly be envisioning you using this.

  Brent

  Holy God.

  Jenna had never had a vibrator before. She’d had a longtime boy-friend, a few years ago, who’d occasionally been into using toys on her, but that had been her only experience with them before the glass dildo in the dungeon.

  Her first thought: She didn’t want to use it on herself—she wanted Brent to.

  But God, she needed the release.

  She stood staring down at the vibrator as if it were a rabid animal that might strike at any second. Then she realized how ridiculous that was and ran her fingers along
the length of it, where the shaping was so exact that she found fake veins built into the thick, sturdy rubber. She picked it up, tested its weight, then grew bold enough to play with the knob on the end, filling her room with a low buzzing noise.

  What would a naughty girl do right now?

  Lie down on the bed and use it?

  No. That seemed . . . too easy.

  Take it to the shower with her? That sounded sexier, but who knew if it was waterproof, and God, what if she somehow shocked herself? Ugh—not a good thought.

  She supposed she could be so daring as to take it out on the balcony, or even out on the beach tonight to use it there. But then—that only made her feel more lonely. Who was so desperate that they took a romantic walk on the beach with their vibrator?

  Then an idea hit her. A really dirty one—so dirty she wasn’t even sure she could bring herself to do it. But the moment that fear struck, that fascinated, curious sort of doubt—the “Can I?” question—she knew she had indeed figured out exactly what a truly naughty, nasty girl would do.

  Her whole body tensed as she walked to her purse and drew out her cell phone. She’d barely looked at it all week—and had long forgotten about calling Shannon, unsure now that she could even share with her best friend all that was happening—but she was suddenly glad she’d brought it. Flipping it open, she set it to record video—then she propped it against her purse on the desk, pointing it toward the bed.

  And then . . . she became a porn queen again.

  Chapter 10

  Brent sat at a table next to one of the resort’s many pools, eating an orientation dinner of barbequed ribs with his newly arrived guest. Not every new arrival was greeted in the gazebo with wine and fancy food—Danny Gibbs was a Georgia construction worker who’d just inherited a lot of money, and barbeque by the pool was more his style.

  Danny’s needs and desires were par for the course here, especially for guys like him who didn’t have much luck with the kind of girls he wanted—gorgeous model types. So his first fantasy would be a beach tryst with a beautiful bikini-clad babe, progressing from there to a multiple cheerleader fantasy and other similar scenarios. Compared to Jenna, guiding Danny was a breeze—Brent could practically do it in his sleep. But he did have a goal for Danny—he hoped by the time Danny left he’d be more confident, smoother with the ladies, and as they ate, he casually gave the guy some pointers without making it obvious that’s what he was doing.

  Just as he was schooling Danny on how to approach a woman, though, his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Just a second,” he said, annoyed at the interruption. But given that the staff didn’t usually bother guides during meetings, he thought he’d better check it.

  Glancing down, he saw a text from the front desk: Jenna Banks asking for your #. Says important. OK to give?

  Hmm. Never a dull moment with Jenna. She’d been on his mind all afternoon since her sumptuously sexy performance at the Grotto.

  He sent back a quick OK, then returned to his conversation.

  Fifteen minutes later, as Brent was going over some basic fantasy rules, his phone vibrated again. He paused to pull it out and take a look, surprised to see Jenna wasn’t calling but had sent him something.

  Was it . . . a video? He didn’t use most of the fancy gadgets on his phone, so he wasn’t sure, but when he clicked, it was indeed a video—of Jenna stretched out on her bed in only a pretty pair of lace panties, again caressing her breasts. His chest tightened instantly and he pushed the pause button, looking to Danny. “Excuse me,” he said, trying to sound completely calm and professional. “I’m afraid I have to take this.”

  Brent hurried away across the patio onto a more private sundeck, empty now that night had fallen. Then he resumed watching the video of Jenna—in total awe.

  She massaged her tits so sweetly, so sensually—he knew she wasn’t just acting for the camera. She was truly making herself feel good. And though thoughts of her had kept him moderately hard all day, now he stiffened further.

  Next, she reached beside her and—ah—drew his little present into the picture. He watched, utterly captivated, as she raked the pink shaft up over one nipple, then the other, playing, experimenting for him. As she let the fake cock glide down over her beautifully bare torso, she watched its progress, sensually sliding her tongue across her upper lip before she dipped the toy between her legs. Yes, baby, that’s so hot. His erection grew.

  He waited patiently—but also eagerly—until she set the vibrator aside and used both dainty hands to ease those sexy panties down her thighs, then off. So, so pretty, Jenna. So sexy and hot. Then she parted her legs—toward the camera. Damn. Nice.

  With her moist tongue still poised against that soft upper lip, she positioned the vibrator’s tip at her opening, and as she pushed the head into her sweet pussy, clenching her teeth and letting out a small groan, Brent’s stomach contracted. Fuck. He felt this too much. Way too much. He had to move to a bench at the deck’s edge and sit down.

  When she pushed the toy all the way in with a heart-stopping sigh, Brent felt almost as if he were sinking into her. The sight stole his breath.

  And then she began to slide the fake cock in and out, in and out, moaning softly with each inward drive, and he felt weak watching her pleasure herself for him.

  Soon she turned the vibrator on, and those moans grew deeper. His cock ached and he began to sweat despite the sea breeze. He’d selected a toy that came with a nub at the base, designed to stimulate her clit with each deep thrust, and it was easy to tell it was working, especially when she stopped the in-and-out strokes and instead just left it all the way in, simply working the base of the cock against her clit now.

  As Brent watched, his focus moved gradually from her cunt to her face. The screen was small, of course, but he could still see how much she had opened herself to him, in every way. The blood drained from his cheeks and his dick felt like it would burst from behind the zipper of his khakis as she moaned and groaned—until finally she came, in a barrage of hot little breaths and then the longer, higher sobs he’d heard from her before.

  When the video ended, he simply sat there for a long minute.

  Damn—she was so dirty now. Truly a bad girl. He could barely fathom the difference in her from when she’d first arrived.

  Except that . . . her surrender, her sexuality, were still too attached to him.

  He’d felt much more in control of the whole situation after managing to keep his cock in his pants today at the Grotto, but then—shit—he’d had to go writing that note, telling her he’d imagine her using the toy. If she’d simply used it by herself, on her own, he’d have felt one step closer to making her newfound naughtiness independent of him—but as it was, just the opposite had happened.

  Well, he’d have to think about how to change that—but for now, the horny guy in him just played the video again and got a monster hard-on as he watched it a second time.

  After which he finally returned to Danny and cold barbeque with an apology—but no matter what he did after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jenna.

  Hours later, Brent lay in the hammock next to his bungalow, listening to the waves crash on the shore and watching as Jenna fucked herself over and over again with the toy he’d sent her. He felt like an eighteen-year-old kid seeing his first porn movie—for some reason, he couldn’t get enough. She was so . . . innocent. And yet not. She somehow straddled both ends of the spectrum.

  The truth was, he wanted to call her, or just go to her room. He wanted to fuck her brains out. He wanted to give her what she’d begged for today. Begged. Jenna. She’d gotten so good, so fast, at expressing her desires. “My dirty, dirty girl,” he whispered toward the tiny screen on his phone.

  He wanted to fuck her tonight—but he couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

  Tomorrow she’d have another fantasy. And he’d be involved—yet so would others, so at least it wouldn’t be . . . intimate.

  Then again, somehow the harem fantasy h
ad turned intimate between them, and even the dungeon fantasy, by the time it was over, had felt very much like they were the only two in the room. But he’d at least try to make tomorrow’s fantasy different. He was giving her something he thought would appeal to everything inside her—but in the end, this time, he wouldn’t give her . . . him. He’d just decided that part, right now. He wouldn’t fuck her tomorrow. He’d keep reinforcing that this wasn’t about him—it was only about her. Even if it killed him.

  And it might, he decided as he finally unzipped his pants and took out his straining cock.

  Dick in hand, he watched her again, fucking herself to ecstasy—the only difference now being that he came with her this time.

  And then—hell, he knew he shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t respond at all, but she had opened herself to him, so much, so completely. She’d put herself out there in a way that . . . well, it had to be scary for her, and he was so enormously proud of her for pushing her fears aside time after time. So he sent her a simple text message:

  Thank U, baby

  I just came with U

  Goodnight

  But this had to be the end of the personal stuff between them. It had to.

  You Are Invited to a Fantasy

  Where: Castaway Beach (map included)

  When: Today, 4:00 p.m.—but the year is 1715.

  You are the only survivor of a shipwreck and are stranded on a desert island.

  Fortunately, a trunk of clothing has washed up on the beach with you,

  and you’ve found ample fruit to eat.

  Rescue is imminent—if you are agreeable.

  Ultimate pleasure and freedom will soon be at hand

  for a woman bold enough to accept the price.

  (Your safeword is Cleopatra.)

  Jenna sat on the isolated beach at the far end of the island, her pussy humming with anticipation. Wearing the emerald green colonial-style dress she’d found in the trunk, she pulled up the skirt to keep from getting too hot, then glanced back down at the invitation she’d received earlier. She wasn’t exactly sure what would happen here, but she was already entranced. This was the first fantasy she’d faced without fear—only excitement. The eighteenth-century was one of her favorite time periods, and she was particularly immersed in the era right now—back in real life—while she penned her pirate anthology. Had Brent planned something piratical for her? She didn’t know—but couldn’t wait to find out.