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Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Summer Love


His eyes watched her while she slept.

Her body, soft and sexy in the tiny bikini had curves in all the right places. Her hips were full without being flabby. Her abdomen was toned and taut, just the way he liked them to be. The classy silver navel stud, glinting in the sun’s dancing rays, made him want to lean over and push his wet tongue into the tidy little depression it guarded.

The breasts were a story unto themselves. Full and firm, they looked—incredibly—as if they were all her own, not the product of some surgeon’s skill with a pair of saline baggies, the way so many others were. No, these looked like the genuine article, lush and feminine. The tiny navy blue triangles that covered them—barely—hid what he imagined to be perfect nipples. The urge to push aside the triangles to peek at what lay beneath them was great but he resisted. The flimsy strings that held the bikini top in place had been untied before she fell asleep. They dangled beside her body, leaving the skimpy fabric pieces to stay—or not to stay—in place on their own. It would just take one small push to the side to see what he wanted to see… But no. He couldn’t do it. It wasn’t right to violate her privacy in that way.
That is one beautiful specimen of womanhood. So firm yet still soft. I’d love to feel myself sliding over that creamy skin. I’d part those soft thighs and pull that scrap of fabric aside and press my face to her pussy. I’ll bet she smells sweet and sexy, all woman and proud of it. I’d taste her before pressing my cock into her…ride her until she came against my hardness and then ride her some more. I’d ride her until my balls clenched and released a long, wet stream of cum into her soft, wet pussy—oh, hell, what am I doing to myself? I don’t need this, this self-torture. And hell, I don’t need her waking up and finding my pecker looking like a totem pole! What in the hell was I thinking, anyway?
He tore his eyes from her breasts and considered her face. The face of a goddess. A hot, exotic goddess, with high cheekbones and long, strawberry-blonde eyelashes that rested like butterflies against her skin. Her lips were full and just begged to be kissed. Her face was framed by a wild mass of curly red hair. The long tresses were strewn across the faded blue quilt that she slept on.
Watching her sleep so peacefully was something he enjoyed. He was enjoying it—a lot. Too much, perhaps. And his impromptu fantasy…well that had been great, too. But watching her perfectly clear fair skin turn an alarming shade of lobster-tail red…well, that was something he didn’t enjoy.
He knew he had to wake her up. It was only fair—the right thing to do—even if it would put an end to his viewing pleasure.
“Excuse me,” he said.
No response. The measured rhythm of her rising and falling chest didn’t skip a beat.
“Excuse me,” he said in a louder voice.
This time she shifted. The triangle above her left breast shifted ever so slightly but not enough to reveal what he wanted so much to see.
He cleared his throat, but that didn’t do any good. She slept on as if his voice was just an accompaniment to some internal lullaby.
“Hello? Excuse me,” he said in the tone of voice he generally reserved for speaking with his hearing-impaired grandmother.
It worked. The red-haired goddess’ eyes flew open.
She looked up at him and screamed.
Her scream, so unexpected and loud, startled him so much that he jumped. And when he jumped, she screamed again.
She sat up, twisting her body on the blanket so she turned and directly faced him. Her bathing suit top fell when she sat up straight but she didn’t seem to realize she had lost anything.
Nice tits. Great tits, actually. And real, I’m sure they’re real, like I suspected. Just beautiful.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked. She pointed toward where he stood, right near the edge of her blanket. “What do you want? And where the hell are your…your…”
He stared at her openly. The only thing he tried to conceal was the laughter that threatened to burst out of his lungs—a result, surely, of her outraged, shocked expression. It did no injustice to the beautiful face. She was still stunning, even in her current state.
“My what?”
“Your trunks! Where the hell are your swim trunks?”
Summer Love can be purchased here.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

HOT! Wow, this sounds really good. Going to pick up my copy now!!

Sherry