The Bikini Diaries (29 page)

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Authors: Lacey Alexander,cey Alexander

BOOK: The Bikini Diaries
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Her whole body tingled at the promise—until she remembered, "Um, what if I do?

Scream, I mean. Someone will hear." It was one thing to scream at the beach, but another to scream right outside the Shellside Towers. And since it wasn't all that late, people

would still be coming and going from Bayside Village.

Brandon simply grinned, then pointed to the waterfall tumbling over a man-made

precipice a few feet above them. "Listen," he said.

Then she realized the rush of water was fairly thunderous, and in fact, they had to talk loudly just to hear each other. 'Ah," she said. Perhaps another good reason he'd wanted to come here.

After that, he led her into the water, down the steps that curved around one "tributary" of the expansive pool, holding both her hands in his.' As a warm sea breeze tickled the nape of her neck—since she'd swept her hair up on top of her head—she felt as if he was

leading her down into
pleasure
instead of just water. The pool seemed their private outdoor sanctuary, and she was suddenly thankful she
could
scream if she wanted to.

Because of the words that suddenly rolled through her head:
This is the last time. The last
time.

But no—
no
—she couldn't dwell on that; it broke her own sensible, necessary rule.

Brandon might make the rules at Emerald Shores, but
she
had control here.
It's only sex.

It's only sex. It's only sex. Nothing more.

And like earlier today, she remembered who she had become here—a woman of strength,

a woman who could fuck without emotion—and she became that once more as they

swam sensually around each other, beginning to kiss, touch. Somehow, the water

heightened each sensation as Brandon's hands brushed over her ass, her smooth stomach,

her breasts.

When the urge struck, she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck and deliver a hot tongue kiss, pressing her pussy to the hard column of stone that had risen between his legs. "Mmm," she moaned, then issued a naughty demand. "Suck my tits."

He cast an utterly wicked smile that said he liked when she talked dirty. With one arm

wrapped around her waist, he dropped his hand to her ass, hoisting her slightly higher in the water—and with the other, he pushed the fabric of her bikini top aside to bare one

breast, the tip pink and beaded.

When he sucked it into his mouth, she moaned, the sensation stretching all through her,

all the way to her cunt. "Mmm, yes," she said. "Suck it, baby."

He did as she asked, suckling deep, making it feel as if he somehow added more length to her nipple with each pull. It almost hurt, he sucked so hard, but at the same time, she felt it
everywhere
—a buffeting, dirty pleasure that forced her to drop her head back in abandon.

Soon, however, he softened the ministrations—now that he'd made the peak ultrahard, he

backed off to flick his tongue over it, to lick, again, again, as if truly tasting it, testing the feel and rigidity in a way that had her practically purring.

As her breath came heavier, she couldn't resist untwining one arm from around his neck

to pull aside the other panel of fabric, revealing her other aching tit. She bit her lip as a surge of pleasure sizzled up the small of her back, urging her to arch her breasts higher toward him.

He didn't hesitate to bend down once more and latch on to the newly bared flesh, this

time using his teeth to lightly catch the distended nipple.

"Unh," she sobbed softly.

His eyes rose to hers, filled with unadulterated heat.

Then he
pulled
on the turgid tip, soft but potent, using his teeth to harden it further.

She heard her own panting—even against the sound of the rushing water nearby—as he

began to lick and suckle that breast as well. Her flesh shone wet and shiny in the glow of light beneath them and she found herself thrusting her tit deeper, deeper into his mouth, making him take as much of it in as he could.

Under the water, she grinded slowly against him, cunt to cock, hungry for more. She

issued another demand. "Make me scream."

A hot, ready smile transformed Brandon's face as he turned them both in the water,

leaning her back against one wall. A small shelf, less than an inch below water level, ran around the entire edge of the pool, so she balanced her elbows there, which lifted her wet tits from the water for him to see.

"Float your legs out in front of you," he instructed.

When she did, he smoothly drew down her bikini bottoms until he was tossing them up

on the side of the pool. Instead of putting her legs back down right away, though, she

kept them lifted, floating near the surface, because she wanted Brandon to see her

denuded pussy through the water.

Running her tongue sensually across her upper lip, she slowly parted her legs. She could sense his excitement as he moved between her spread thighs, slid one hand under her bare ass to help keep her afloat, then with the other hand, thrust two fingers inside her.

"Oh!" she cried out, not expecting the naughty intrusion—but then her voice went deeper, sultrier, as she added, "Oh...
yes."
Because he was driving them in and out, fucking her, and the simple rawness of it made her cast her lover a dirty little smile.

Soon, though, he withdrew his fingers and, reaching between her legs to her ass, he lifted her bottom up onto the pool's shelf. She felt wantonly beautiful there—dirty and hot. She loved having her breasts on display, selfishly, arrogantly loved that they were big and

round and pretty. Just as much, she loved having the pink folds of her cunt open for his eyes—and also for his tongue, since it put her pussy at the perfect height for licking.

And that's exactly what Brandon did. He went down on her as if he were a man who

hadn't eaten in a week and she was a gourmet meal. His ministrations were at once rough

but sensual, rhythmic, and she felt her whole body begin to undulate with the motions.

"Oh baby, yeah, just like that," she told him.

He lifted his mouth only to say, "Play with your tits for me," and she happily obliged, loving his eyes on her as she took the two globes in her hands, let their weight rest there, then began to tease her nipples as he watched, as he licked.

She got lost in it all—the wet, soft stimulation between her thighs, the pleasure she

derived from caressing her own breasts, the added pleasure that came from having his

eyes on her. Blood engorged her clit—her pussy felt like the heaviest part of her body—

and Brandon sank his face into her open slit with a hungry abandon that made her even

crazier about him. He had the ability to turn everything raw and raunchy, yet at the same time, he somehow turned the raw and raunchy into simple good, hot fun—merely by

acting as if it were all totally normal.

And maybe it was; maybe for the beautiful people there'd never been any reason to worry

about what anyone thought afterward because no matter what happened, they were still

the beautiful people. But it didn't matter why—all that mattered was that Brandon made

her feel just as beautiful as
he
was.

He suckled her clit and she pinched her nipples. 'A little more," she heard herself whimper down to him. "Oh God, yeah." She was breathless, panting, as the pleasure grew, mounted, hotter, hotter—until finally the orgasm crashed over her hard and she

thrust at his mouth and had to hold on to the edge of the pool with both hands to keep

from flying off the shelf. She moaned and groaned up into the night, safe in knowing the sound of the waterfall hid her cries of pleasure.

And when it was over, she was reminded once more:
This is the last night.
But instead of letting herself feel any emotion, she instead thought of what she needed more of before it ended— and she said, "I need to suck your cock—bad."

Between her legs, his face wet with her juices, he looked nearly dumbstruck with passion.

"Ah, bunny—baby, I need that, too. I need to watch it slide in and out of your pretty mouth."

She lowered herself back into the pool and kissed him ravenously, at the same time

struggling to get him out of his trunks, after which she wrapped both hands around his

erection beneath the water. Meanwhile, he reached behind her neck and untied her top,

tossing it aside, too, leaving them both completely naked, completely natural.

Brandon lifted himself up onto the same shelf where she'd been moments before, and the

angle—being face-to-face with his cock—left her in awe. "My God, you're
so
huge," she nearly moaned.

His smile was adequately nasty. "The better to fuck your mouth with, my bad little

bunny."

A week ago, talk like that might have paralyzed her or, at the very least, made her feel objectified. But with Brandon, all that changed. With Brandon, it was simply another part of hot, down-and-dirty sex. More than that, she took it as a promise— that she wanted

him to keep.

Stepping up between his legs, she started by licking his balls, which rested in the small depth of water on the shelf. He moaned, obviously liking it, but she moved upward to

what she
really
wanted—she let her tongue glide from the root of his shaft all the way to the tip, although that required pushing up on her tiptoes. Once there, she again curled

both fists around his spectacular length, twisting, squeezing, massaging, as she lowered her mouth over the rounded head.

"Fuck," he whispered softly, then as she eased deeper down onto him, "Yeah. Oh yeah."

She angled his dick outward slightly so she could get to it easier, and then she began to move up and down on it, taking in as much as she could with each descent. Above her, he

groaned, and she felt his gaze as she worked, and she wanted to be a badder bunny for

him than ever before.

So she pressed herself, pushed her own limits, tried to take him deeper, deeper. He filled her mouth so full already, but she tried to relax her throat, go down on him a little farther with each slide of her lips. She could tell he noticed, felt it, for he'd gone very still, but his breath came heavier, harder. He whispered his encouragement as he threaded his

fingers back through her hair. 'Ah, baby, that's so good... so nice... yeah, oh yeah... so deep in your mouth, bunny... that's right, swallow me."

Soon Wendy's mouth tired; her throat muscles, too—but she felt filled with Brandon's

enormous cock in a whole new dirty way. She'd gone down on him deeper than before,

deeper than she bet most girls had. It filled her with a strange, nasty satisfaction she'd never felt even as she eased back into her usual mode of sucking him.

Now he began to do as he'd promised, to fuck her mouth. He held her head in his hands

and thrust his cock between her waiting lips, and again, she felt truly fucked by him in a different way than ever before. And, oddly, she sensed the very subservience of it giving her an unexpected
power
over him—it showed him the full measure of her lust, the full measure of what a bad girl she really was, to welcome another such raw form of sex.

Finally, she released him from her mouth—oh God, it was stretched and sore now—to

smile lasciviously up at him. "Do you like to watch me suck you?"

His soft laugh echoed with more awe than humor. "So, so much." He reached out, ran his thumb over her lips. "You do it so damn good, bunny." And the compliment caused a strange little ball of warmth to gather in her stomach, almost the same as if a man she

loved told her she was beautiful.

But quit thinking about love here, for heaven's sake. Get back to fucking.

The thought made her step back in close to his majestically jutting cock, rise back up on her toes again, and press her tits wet and warm around it.

"Ah, God," he moaned, then instantly began to slide,
up
and down, in the deep valley her breasts created.

"Oh... oh...
mmm."
She loved it, too, and still couldn't explain why. Just another way to fuck him, she supposed. And...maybe another way to fuck him that not every girl could

employ since her breasts were more sizable than many. Despite herself, she'd found that

it mattered to her—being able to leave impressions on him or make him feel things that

no one else could.

So she fucked him with her tits as vigorously as she'd fucked him with her mouth, and

they moved that way together, moaning and groaning, until she lowered her lips back

over the tip of his shaft as he thrust, and she sucked the gathering pre-come away and

tasted the light saltiness and let every sensation fill, her—from the taste of him to the feel of him to the way the water seemed to wrap around her like cool velvet in this strange,

heady moment of strange, heady sex. He had taught her to be kinky. He'd taught her to be kinky and to love it. He'd taught her to be so kinky that at times it didn't even feel

kinky—it just felt normal, one more way to give and receive pleasure.

Finally, Brandon eased down off the shelf and took her in his arms. They didn't speak,

but their eyes met in the shadowy light and the aqua glow from beneath them made it feel ethereal and dreamlike when he kissed her swollen lips, slow, deep.

Basing her back against the wall once more, he splayed his hands across her ass, lifted

her into his grasp, and pushed his cock inside her. The deep entry forced a long, low sob from her throat. Instinctually, she wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles when they met in back, and he began to move in a slow, thorough rhythm that echoed through

every inch of her.

Together, they panted, moaned. Her breasts brushed his chest, water lapping gently

around them. He pushed deeper, deeper, and at moments went totally still, making her

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