Posted on

Down by the Bay

Nothing could make the moment more special.  He drapes over my shoulders, chin on my head, staring at the waves.  Our hands tangle and squeeze against my chest.  The silky roar of the ocean, crashing against the spray-dappled rocks, overwhelms any need for idle conversation.  I close my eyes.  It is me, and him, and the power of the water.  No cell phones, no family members’ pestering, no toxic workplaces or health problems.

Just us.

The sun breaks through the pale grey clouds, and I tilt my face towards its light, smiling with my eyes closed.  His hand touches my chin and gently turns me around so I faced him.  He is only a few inches taller than me, but when he looks at me with our forever in his eyes, he towers over me.

He kisses my forehead and slides his hand down to my wrist.  Without a word, but with a smile that makes a promise, he leads me down into the maze of rocks jutting out of the side of the cool Pacific shoreline.  Our beaches are rock and pebbles and sometimes a tiny strip of grey sand; golden beaches are legendary, to be visited on vacations.  Our beaches are for every day.

We pick our way down like two-legged mountain goats.  I giggle when the spray tickles my face, and when I lick my lips it tastes like salt and fish.

Suddenly, he’s tugging me down towards a flat boulder, tucked up against the hillside so the top of the embankment can’t be seen.  I lay down beside him on the sun-warmed stone and reach for his hand.  We stare up at the sky, which threatens rain and heat in the same breath.  His fingers dance gently between mine, adjusting his grip so I am unable to get free.  As if I would want to.  I smile into the light.

His lips brush my forehead, pushing aside a wayward curl.  My whole body responds to his presence, an arousal I have been hiding for hours.  We already made love when we woke up, but I am unable to be near him for long without desiring him.  Even more so, I crave his company and conversation; it fills an emptiness in me I hadn’t realized I suffered from until I met him.

He kisses me again, lower now, on my nose, my upper lip. I wait until he hesitates, then entrench my fingers in his hair and pull him down to me.  We meet in the way humans have met for longer than we have kept track – lips on lips, moist groping skin seeking the answer to the most terrifying question we all ask: am I alone?  And with every kiss, his answer to me is no, no, never.

He works his careful way down my body.  I halfway watch the edge of the hill, but if someone comes, they will see little.  Even a curious soul would have to pick their way down to find us.  So I lift my body to let him take off my shirt and kiss around the line of my cami.  Today I left my bra and panties at home, and he discovers this with soft, happy grunts in between caresses.

His hand slides beneath my waistband and his skillful fingers wriggle between my pussy lips. I sigh through my teeth and he grins at me, then kisses my breasts again, sneaking peeks at my face with his beautiful green eyes upturned.  Clear, bright, unrelenting Irish eyes.  I am overwhelmed by love, the very thought of him priming me so that when he slips two fingers inside of me, I come almost immediately.

He toys with me a while, while the breeze picks up and the clouds scud over me.  I turn my head and give him a long, meaningful look.  He tickles my clit one last time before he slips out and lets me pull my pants down over my ass.  Then I turn to his and undo the button, drag down the zipper.  His cock is ready for me.  I take the head gently between my lips and suck him all the way to the back of my throat, hitting my gag reflex but controlling it so my mouth contracts around him.

He sighs and grips my hair, pushing him deeper inside my mouth.  I wriggle my tongue all around the perfect girth, awakening a rush of blood that has me on my back, pants at my ankles, before I realize the oral is over.  He licks his fingers and wets me, then slides inside.  There is no first pump, just a long, slow decline against me until our bodies cling where our skin is bared.

I shift so he can better penetrate me, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and neck.  He never takes his gaze off my face except to close his eyes when the ecstasy is too much.  We bob together gently, like the waves; the tide is heading out.  My thighs are slick, my palms sweating.  I am coming, coming again, throwing back my head as I arch up into him.  He grips the stone beneath me with his powerful hands and he comes too.  He throbs into my waiting hollow.

Slumped, at last, we lie in love.  He rolls off me and we stare at the sky again.  Nothing has changed.  We are the same.  We are all that needs to be.

Posted on

Life After Party

Olivia flopped over, pressing her arm to her forehead.  A headache drummed inside her brain, dubiously reminding her of the night before: the tailgating party turned into a postgame party turned into, well, she didn’t actually remember.

A breeze hissed through the room and she shivered.  Then she sat up, wide awake, her skin forming goosebumps.  She was naked in a strange bed, with no sign of its owner.  She bit her lip and pawed through the covers frantically.  No sign of a condom, either.

“Oh god,” Olivia said, dropping her face into her hands and trying desperately to slow her heart rate. Finally, she dared peek through her fingers at the room.  It was sparsely decorated – definitely a young person’s room, with a few heavy metal band posters and a coat rack with a couple of dark, heavy coats.  Above the door was a small wooden sign with painted elephants fading around the border.  When she squinted, Olivia could read what it said: Jerri’s Room.

Jerri.  She cast about in her memory, trying to remember which scruffy-faced freshman the name might belong to, but no one came to mind.  And anyway, it didn’t matter.  She wanted to be up, dressed, and out before her one-night stand returned and awkward words had to be exchanged.

She was just standing up and pulling her too-big Bulls tee over her head when the door opened and in walked a short girl with close-cropped hair and an irresistible smile.

Olivia’s hand flew to her mouth.  "Oh my god!  I swear, I am not here to steal your boyfriend.“

The girl’s smile wobbled, but did not fade.  She set the brown bag she was carrying down on the desk.  "My boyfriend?  Olivia, what are you talking about?”

“How do you know – ”  But it all fell into place.  "Jerri,“ she breathed, and she could see the I above the door burning fiercely with revelation.  "You’re Jerri.”

Now the smile did disappear.  "You don’t remember me?“

"I don’t remember much of anything.”  Olivia dropped her voice, ashamed.  Her cheeks were hot as she took another good look at Jerri, at her hard little body and open, honest face.  If she squinted hard enough, she could see why she would have thought she was hooking up with a boy, when she was drunk off her ass.

Jerri blinked, then sat down on the bed, staring at her hands in her lap.  "Oh.  I’m sorry, Olivia.  I thought you knew.“  She looked up from under her dark lashes, daring a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth.  "You don’t…don’t hate me for it, do you?”

“Hate you?”  Olivia opened her mouth to continue, but then she closed it, because she had to think.  Fuzzy memories surfaced.  They were talking; Jerri introducing herself at the party, with no malice or dishonesty, and Olivia taking her hand and marveling at her soft skin and perfect nails.  Olivia touching Jerri’s face.  Jerri leaning in for the first kiss, the first of many in a night Olivia realized with her whole body that she had loved.

“Hey,” she said.  "Hey, I just remembered something.“

Jerri looked skeptical, but hope glimmered in her eyes.

Olivia put her hand to her forehead.  Her head still ached, but standing there in her t-shirt and nothing else, Jerri’s gentle gaze on her face, she knew something with a conviction deeper than she’d ever known before.

"I remember how much I like you,” she said with a smile.

Jerri’s relieved grin could have blinded with its brilliance.  "So you’ll stay for breakfast?“  She pointed to the paper sack. "I got bagels.”

Olivia thought she might overflow.  Instead, she lifted her shirt over her head and stood naked, her nipples erect, in the center of Jerri’s room.

“Let’s fuck first,” she said.  "I want to remember it for real this time.“

Jerri’s whole face pinkened with shyness.  "Okay,” she said.  "Come here.  Lay down.  I want to taste you first.“

A thrill ran through Olivia’s whole body, starting between her legs and singing in her brain.  She spread herself out on the rumpled covers.  Soon, Jerri’s soft fingers began to play across her skin, starting with her legs, followed by kisses light as butterfly legs.  Olivia sighed contentedly.  She loved long mornings.

Posted on

The Bid

“Excuse me.”  Laurie tugged on the usher’s sleeve with as polite an expression as he could muster while other auction attendees elbowed past him.  "I have this special ticket – see, my dad couldn’t make it today, but he’s an official – “

The usher plucked the ticket from Laurie’s fingers with looking at him.  "Front row, third seat from the right, your pa’s name’ll be on the back.  Git in there.”

Laurie sighed and slipped into the stream of well-dressed men flooding into the auction house.  His father had refused to explain, mumbling something about “being a good grown-up lad” as he handed over the ticket in a fit of coughing.  Dutiful to a fault, Laurie took the ticket.  Now he was here and completely confused.

The auctioneer started almost as soon as he sat down between two mustached men who refused to look at him.  "Do I see ten?  Ten ten ten on the floor, do I see ten, yes, ten, ten to number twenty-eight, do I see fifteen, fifteen?  Fifteen, all right, thirteen, thirteen, we are bidding on a fine fine set of lovely luckies, all the way from Care-oh-LINE-uh!  Thirteen, yes, I see you there, sir, thirteen.“

As the hubbub continued, Laurie raised his hand tentatively.  The auctioneer squinted, pointed.  "Yes, you in the front there, the little one, thirty-five, I see you, thirty-five thirty-five do I see forty?  Forty?  No?  Going once, thirty-five going twice…”

Laurie held his breath.

“SOLD, to the little man in the front, for thirty-five dollars.”

An unexplainable excitement filled Laurie’s chest as he rose to follow the frozen smile of the blonde assistant.  She slipped behind the heavy curtain and Laurie held his breath as he went in.

Beyond stretched another huge, heavy curtain, dark and velvetty, but cut in places to reveal small clear boxes at about elbow height.  Laurie bent to look inside one but the blonde assistant batted him away.  "Touching only, kid.  Here.“  She scrubbed roughly at his hand with a cloth soaked in the unmistakable smell of antiseptic.  "Let it dry, then have your fill, then meet me at the other end.”

She disappeared.  Laurie frowned as he approached the nearest box.  It had a man’s hand-sized opening, and into this he slid his arm nearly up to the elbow.  The plastic passageway curved upwards and he followed it, fingers tingling with anticipation.

They brushed something smooth and impossibly soft, and a delighted giggle sounded from above it. It was warm, wet flesh.  Laurie jumped and almost withdrew his hand, but now something came alive between his legs and he could not resist.  He reached upwards again and this time felt more aggressively; his fingers slipped up to the fingernail inside the silken lips, eliciting a gasp from the invisible girl.

Biting his lip in determination, Laurie slipped in and out of her until his hand was wet with her delight.  Thirty-five dollars well spent, he thought, because suddenly he remembered that there were five other boxes.

He skipped on down the row.