Chapter 17

Sitting on the back patio, I mulled over work. Since returning from New Orleans, my workload had dropped to almost nothing. I had some old parchments that needed independent validation for a client before he’d buy them. Wasn’t interested. He could wait.

Clouds drifted across the sky. When they obscured the sun, humidity intensified, then the sun reappeared and burned with radiant heat.

I considered taking the boat out for a spin to cool off, or go for a swim in the ocean. I’d developed an odd trait. Every time Rory left me on my own, I was restless. I checked my watch. One-thirty. She was off with her girlfriends, hopefully not getting into trouble with the police.

I should mow the lawn ... or take the boat out for a ride. It needed gas. That’s a chore, isn’t it? From the patio, the Boston Whaler looked very enticing; shiny white, brilliant chrome, clean lines. It was bobbing with the swells, knocking against the jetty. Lady Gutenberg was definitely nodding to me, encouraging me to fill her tank.

I should clean the house ... or take the boat out. I checked my watch. One thirty-two. Time was flying.

The caress of an ocean breeze died away. Heat intensified. Screw it! Lady Gutenberg, here I come.

Taxing away from the jetty, Rory yelled over the sound of burbling engines.

“Ethan! Ethan!”

Rory, on the jetty with Susie, was waving at me. I returned, the bow nudging. Both girls jumped aboard. I reversed, swinging about.

“Where were you going without me?” Rory challenged.

“Getting gas. Why are you back so early? Hello, Susie.”

“Hi, Mr. Grant!” Susie responded brightly.

“Call him Ethan,” Rory said. She smiled at me. “We’ll come with you and get ice cream at the marina.” Pointing her finger, she added, “Get going! It’s hot!”

Before she parked herself on the bench seat, I shoved the throttles forward. Engines roared. The boat surged, bow rising steeply, and both girls tumbled onto the bench with screeches of surprise. I grinned broadly; the simple pleasures in life.

Less than thirty minutes later, we docked at Key West. The girls jumped out and went for ice cream. I filled the tanks and paid, then waited, and waited, and waited.

I was of half a mind to leave them stranded here. Knowing Rory, she’d just go shopping and take a taxi home. Not much fazed her.

Sitting on the aft bench seat, I thought about her. Rory was a constant source of surprise. I knew she could be grumpy. I knew she could be feisty. And I knew she could even be shy at times. I’d experienced all those traits as she’d grown up.

What I’d never expected - who would? - was her attitude towards sex. Emotionally mature, she understood as well as I did that what we were doing was illegal in the strict sense of the law. She understood the risks, too, and showed it by being very, very careful when we were out together, making sure no overt act could be noticed.

But.

Rory was the most uninhibited girl I’d ever known, bar none. Experiencing her first climax, discovering she could, that there wasn’t something wrong with her, had liberated her. Ever since, Rory had been ... aggressive about sex. She initiated it frequently, luxuriated in it, enjoying every aspect of intimacy with an unrestrained joi de vivre that made me smile. She was a chameleon; soft and sexy wanting hugs, love, cuddling, and gentle sex; ribald and energetic wanting fun and laughter and adventure.

She could shock me with her forwardness or seduce me with her sly smile and twinkling eyes. I’d had more sex with Rory than I’d ever had with anyone and it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Even exhausted and drained, I felt the desire for her, the need in me for still more of her.

New Orleans had been a perfect trip - aside from the police incident. Rory had my number, subtly flirting with me through her eyes and subtle comments as we’d strolled in the streets, the night full of sounds and aromas. She had fiddled with the hem of her short skirt when we sat for a latte and knew my thoughts were immediately returning to her bright lemon yellow panties. She’d laughed brightly when I fidgeted, trying to control my reaction, her dark eyes aware of my struggles.

My responses to her seemed to build her confidence. She clearly loved it and so did I.

By the time we’d finished dinner, I’d been in physical distress. When we entered the hotel room, I’d grabbed her, wrapping one arm around her waist, shoving the door closed with my foot, and openly tried to grope her panties. Rory, laughing hard, had crossed her legs and wrestled to escape.

“You’re mine, you little sylph,” I’d growled.

Rory giggled and wiggled, her ass rubbing my crotch as she tried to get loose. Then she’d suddenly stilled, reached behind, and fondled my erection over my pants. Excitement pulsed. I relaxed, and she made her break, slipping away and darting to the bathroom, laughing her ass off.

“I need to shower first, Ethan!”

“Shower after,” I’d countered. “I’ll be quick.”

With furious giggles, she’d disagreed. “Shower first. I’m grimy from the walk.”

My thoughts immediately became self-serving. “Okay.”

I waited until I heard the shower running, stripped, and let my erection lead the way. She didn’t notice me in the glassed in shower. She noticed me when I opened the door and joined her.

With a laugh, with eyes twinkling brightly, she didn’t resist when I stepped up behind her. She laughed again when my erection pressed between her naked buttocks, and the small soap bar in the hand squirted out when I reached around her and groped her breasts.

“Ethan...”

I pressed her face-first against the tiled wall with my body and humped her butt crack. I’d reached my limit. I wanted to fuck her. I needed to fuck her.

Water cascaded over us. I reached around her, sliding my hand over her hip and down, finding her sexy pussy, her sparse damp pubes, and explored, tracing the tapering shape of her mons, the deep sides of her vulva, and finally, her cleft, her labia so soft and supple.

When I kissed her shoulder, Rory sighed and said, “I need to wash,” without conviction.

“I want a quickie,” I informed her. “You’re responsible for my condition. You can’t tease me all afternoon and leave me hanging.”

Her body shook with quiet laughter. “You’re so easy. It’s fun teasing you. Your eyes look like you’re eating me up when you’re horny.”

I found her clit and rubbed.

Rory spoke again. “Let me wash and I’ll let you have me in bed.”

Smiling, I nuzzled her neck, stroked her clit, rubbed my erection along her butt crack and informed her, “I want you here first, then again in bed.”

She laughed. “As if! Twice? Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“We’re gonna find out,” I murmured, slipping my finger through her slit, probing deeper. My fingertip glided into her pussy, already wet, so snug. Excitement pulsed in me. “Right now. I want to fuck you.”

Rory laughed quietly. “That sounds selfish. What about me?”

“I’ll make you beg for mercy when we go to bed.”

She giggled and disagreed. “No you won’t. You’ll fall asleep.”

“No I won’t.”

“Yes you will.”

“No I won’t.”

“Yes you will.”

“Stop arguing, Rory. Stick your ass out.”

She laughed, then curled her ass back at me. “Like this?”

“Oh yeah,” I groaned. “Just like that.”

I straightened, backed away and grabbed my erection, studying her sexy ass. Jesus! Perfect! Holding myself, I rubbed the tip between her cheeks. When it touched her anus, I pressed slightly.

“What ‘cha doing?” she asked.

For just a second, I wondered what anal sex would be like. Would she enjoy it? Would I? I’d never experienced anal sex and now wanted to. Maybe later.

Bending my knees, I stroked the tip down, found her pussy and rubbed the tip up and down her cleft, pressing, searching, and found her entrance. Anticipation made my pulse race, my cock throb. With small, gentle strokes, I probed, pressed, and experienced the thrill of penetrating her again, her vagina so tight, oozing over my crown, slipping deeper and deeper into her, heat, molten velvet.

Slowly, my groin neared her cheeks, my cock disappearing into her and, with a shudder of delight, I was buried in her. Dear God it felt good!

My cock swelled dangerously, pleasure hitting. Grabbing her hips, I eased my erection out and stroked back into her. I did it again, so good. Holding her hips, knees bent, I started fucking her, long strokes, each pure pleasure.

Rory curled her ass out at me, bending at her waist, holding onto the tiled wall, and I fucked her harder, my cock sliding in, out, her pussy caressing me with a snug grip. Water cascaded. I fucked her harder, her buttocks shaking with each thrust. I stared, watching my thick cock penetrating her, withdrawing, disappearing, my heart beating faster. It thrilled me. It was so damned exciting. I fucked her faster, tightness emerging in my gut; the first sign of approaching ecstasy. As intensity strengthened, I started pulling her hips, tugging her ass against my thrusts, selfish, lost. My balls tightened. Pressure built. Cock swelled, aching, so close.

My groin slapped against her sweet ass. Desperation emerged - that striving need to cum, to fill her, to find heaven. Panting, heart racing, I reached that perfect moment, the point of agony, my erection straining, so damned hard. It came. With a hard thrust, my cock swelled and pulsed. Semen burned up and I came, release almost explosive, the spurt endless, exquisite pleasure. Falling into the grip of my orgasm, I fucked Rory with short hard strokes, exploding inside her, cum spurting, bliss, bliss. I came hard, swelling, pulsing, erupting, emptying myself inside her, sweet ecstasy making me dizzy. The peak arrived and, with a deep, deep groan of pleasure, my strokes slowed, pulses waned, my orgasm faded and, as I stopped, buried inside her slippery pussy, my knees felt weak. I wanted to gather her in my arms and carry her to bed, cuddle and sleep.

Rory squeezed her pussy on me. “Feeling better now?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me, smiling.

My cock softened. I pulled out of her. “Much better.” I grinned. “Thanks!”

She laughed. “You’re a goof.” Straightening, she turned and moved into me, her arms slipping around my waist. “I’m not sure about quickies.”

“You didn’t cum.”

“Nope. Maybe, if you’d kissed me first.” She smiled.

“Sorry. I couldn’t control myself. You teased me too successfully.”

She rose on tiptoes and kissed me. “Don’t get me wrong. I liked it a lot.” Her dark eyes twinkled. “You know what? I’m horny. Wanna know why?”

Holding her against me, I kissed her, then asked, “Why?”

“I can feel your cum leaking out. Is it strange that it excites me?”

Rory’s expression changed again, a small smile on her face. She reached behind her, took my hand from her waist and guided it down to her pussy. “Here. Feel.”

Despite the water cascading over us, I felt slippery semen leaking from her when I held her pussy. Her eyes narrowed, now sly. Suddenly, warmth washed against my palm. I groaned deeply. Rory was peeing!

Unbelievably, blood flowed back to my groin.

“Like it?” she asked.

“Jesus Christ, Rory!”

She fondled my penis. “Peeing really excites you, doesn’t it?” she asked, feeling my penis thicken.

Lord help me!

She stroked me gently, still peeing in my hand. When she stopped, she said, “It’s my turn. I’m hot and horny.”

I groaned deeply. How could she be so raunchy and sweet at the same time?

Stepping back, she said, “Let’s wash, and then you can service me.”

I burst out laughing. She laughed.

“I adore you.”

She smiled, obviously pleased, and threw back at me, “So you should. I’m adorable.”

In that moment, in a flash of clarity, I knew I was done. I loved her. She was everything I’d ever wanted, ever dreamed about, ever wished for. I could imagine a lifetime with her, kids, a family, being blessed. In that moment, our fun, illicit, forbidden relationship became very serious to me.

However, that night, I’d woken from a nightmare, struggling to get out of it. As usual, as soon as I woke up, the memory of it was gone, leaving my heart racing and a feeling of dread.

Charlie, the marina manager, interrupted my reverie, yelling from the dock, “Hey! Mr. Grant!” Probably a good thing. I had an erection forming.

I looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Could you move your boat? We have other customers needing gas.”

“Oh! Sorry. Of course.”

Maneuvering the boat along the pier distracted me enough for my cock to settle.

Where were those girls?

The two eventually moseyed down to the pier looking relaxed. Both wore shorts and T-shirts, sandals on their feet. Both of them had bronzed tans, and both of them had sunglasses up on their heads holding hair back. They were eating ice cream cones and chatting away.

“Look what we found,” Susie said. She and Rory brought their sunglasses down, struck a pose, and smiled.

“Is that what took so long?”

“It wasn’t that long,” Rory countered, taking a bite of her ice cream cone.

“In man-time, it was an eon,” I told her. “Where’s my ice cream?”

“I didn’t get you any. It would have melted before we got here.”

She licked the side of her ice cream cone and took another bite, oblivious to the contradiction. It made me smile. I adored her so much.

Back home, Susie’s mother picked her daughter up around four while I was swimming off the jetty. I knew it because Rory appeared in a conservative dark blue bikini, diving off the end of the wooden jetty to join me.

We swam, lazy, comfortable. Rory was subdued but chatty, and I was happy enough just to have her company, to see her smile, and watch her gold-flecked dark eyes.

By five-thirty, I was showered and changed into worn sweat shorts and an old tee, my mind on dinner. The white tiled kitchen floor was cool on my bare feet. Cold air washed over me as I studied the contents of the refrigerator, debating menu and beer selection. A visit to India with a Kingfisher lager might be nice.

“Hey! Ethan! What do you think?” Rory said from behind me. “I bought it in New Orleans.”

Glancing behind me, I inhaled sharply. They were so damned sexy! Intricate lilac lace, her dark pubes showing, with no gusset lining her panties to hide her cleft, her vulva so freakin’ sensual.

“My top, not my panties,” she clarified. “Ethan? Eeeethan!”

“Huh?”

She grinned when I finally looked at her face. “The top. Do you like it? Only fifteen dollars!”

It was tight, body-hugging, spaghetti-strap cotton in matching lilac, forming to her breasts and slender physique, ending hip-high. “Not as much as the rest of your clothes,” I informed her, my eyes dropping back to her remarkably sexy panties.

Desire rushed in, hot and intense, my body reacting. Jesus! I wanted some of that!

When I made a lunge for her, Rory laughed brightly and darted away. I saw the back of her panties; intricate lace, cheeky style panties revealing the bottom of her buttocks, her sexy butt crack visible.

Lust hit. I slammed the fridge door shut and gave chase. Rory laughed and ran into the hall. She darted into the bathroom and tried to close the door. I stopped her. Rory, giggling furiously, shoved the door.

“Uncle!”

“Don’t ‘Uncle’ me, my little sexpot,” I growled.

Rory hooted with laughter. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat first.”

“Nuh-uh, oh sylphic one. A quickie, then dinner.”

“No!” she yelled, laughing and shoving her shoulder against the door with remarkable force.

The door closed. The lock clicked. “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised, “and there’s only one way you’re getting out of there. A quickie.”

“No!” she yelled back, laughter muffled by the door.

A negotiation ensued. Rory promised to surprise me in bed tonight if I made dinner first. I capitulated once she promised not to wear any other clothes for the rest of the evening.