My First Fan

While struggling to catch her breath, Jenna tracked his measured movement to the sun-bleached avocado metal railing. Beyond it stretched a broader, flatter, and less-manicured beach. With high-tide marked by thick clumps of seaweed, the white-traced, blue-green surf rolled in the distance. Once he reached the barrier, the mystery man halted, his back to the car—and to her.

Waiting. As Jenna once again gulped, a tremor rattled her clenched teeth. For her.

As she bit her bottom lip, she flicked her glance at the pile of black material. No. What was the point? He was waiting—to take her.

A second tremor slithered through her as Jenna’s shaking fingers pushed open the car door. After a lengthy inhale, she stepped, naked, into the bright sunshine. The sun’s warmth bathed her, adding to the super-heated flushes roaming her skin—and deeper. Warm rivulets slid down her trembling legs as she staggered to him. To her—lover? Whatever he was. Like a powerful magnet only for her, he simply drew her towards him.

Once she arrived at the barrier, the man said nothing as he took her hands in his and wrapped her fingers around the hot steel rail. As his leathery, oak-scented cologne wrinkled her nostrils, Jenna focused on the distant waves, the wheeling seabirds and the rolling surf. When his body slipped away, she shook while trying to ignore the cars and trucks speeding past behind her.

Only days ago, she’d have pleaded. Begged for him not to do this to her. Not out here! But now. Now, she wanted him to take her. Fuck her in front of the entire world. She was his—slut. Only His.

Nobody else would dare. Only him.

So, his little prey animal, long tresses blowing across her open mouth, spread her weakening legs and swayed on her unsteady arms; braced for him. When his fingers wound deep into her hair, a whimper slid from Jenna’s trembling lips. No sooner had his warm, swollen flesh glided under her, throbbing with his powerful pulse, than the whimper became a long, desperate groan.

Vehicles roared past. Car and truck horns blasted. Excited voices yelled. But his heart beat pounded upwards from his thick shaft into her dripping folds, reverberating deep in her fluttering core.

Now, it was Jenna who waited. Trembling on the outside, quivering waves huddling around inside her, she wavered in the warm ocean breeze. Though he hadn’t said a word, he stroked the back of her neck with his fingertips. A good little pet. Such a well-behaved toy.

When he tugged on Jenna’s hair, the whimper stopped. Eyes focused on a flight of pelicans; his little slut swayed backward. His bulbous tip smeared warm wetness along her heaving stomach. Silky skin so tight; his pulse thumped against her. As much as his hungry slut wanted him, he wanted her. Her. Nobody else. Once more.

A loud honking blast echoed in the trees as a speeding truck blew its horn.

Silent and gripping the rail, Jenna didn’t care. In fact, she didn’t give a fuck. At “fuck,” she chortled under her breath.

Her snicker died as his cock raced beneath her. In one swift rocking motion, he withdrew it from under her, pushed through her dripping folds and drove himself into her tightness.

Air! Oh shit! That woman’s high-pitched cry returned, reverberating across the sand while he bored deeper, shoving aside her pulsating flesh. As soon as she lurched forward, his outstretched fingers dug into her hip. When her predator’s other hand yanked her hair, the happy little prey animal reversed, impaling herself on his plunging stiffness.

Sending silvery spit spraying out across the railing, a moan fled Jenna’s open lips at the loud splat when she slapped into his rock-hard pelvis.

As before, he said nothing, only guiding Jenna with his hands; letting her writhe and stroke along him—permitting his pet to ride her newest toy. No, he didn’t have to say a word. With a slow, measured rhythm, Jenna stroked him with her body. Eyes sweeping the pounding surf as she rocked back and forth, she uttered only a low growl when his thumb pushed into her twitching rosebud. Now impaled on his hand and his shaft, Jenna blinked. Nope, that was wrong—the entire beach blinked. As the shimmering sand swirled in and out of focus, the honking traffic became muffled and sharpened, over and over.

With wave after mountainous wave building ever higher within her, Jenna tried to restrict herself to slow, swaying motions; being a good little slut and fucking her predator in time with his gentle pulls on her dark tresses. However, as her breathing sped, and she arched into his hand more often, he tugged ever quicker on her hair. At each silent command, Jenna increased her pace until her buttocks sent wet, meaty slaps echoing around the parking lot with every rapid slam into him. The swift, rhythmic smacking of their bodies added to the wind in the trees and the continuous horn-blowing of passing motorists.

It was too much. She was a bad slut.

As that woman’s scream tore from her throat, the waves overflowed whatever shredding control remained. Every muscle within her shaking frame convulsed and shuddered while she flew along his shaft. Her—lover tugged her hair ever faster. He was like a piston—solid, unmoving, iron-hard, but warm and so very slick, letting his prey drive herself mad on his thick motionless rod. Even as her screams echoed across the sands, driving seagulls into the air, their bodies’ slapping noises became louder. While wave after wave buffeted Jenna’s entire body, her straining fingers ached as, white-knuckled, they slid sideways over the sweaty, sun-warmed rail.

The world stopped.

Seabirds froze in mid-flight.

With air stuck in her twitching throat, Jenna’s brows knitted. What? A massive, pulsating surge raced up his shaft. Oh! As the air loosened to hiss from between her teeth, Jenna redoubled her squeezing fingers’ grip on the slick rail. Just in time, the prey animal braced. With a roar, her glorious predator pushed his hips forward, pinning her to the heated metal railing. Pulse. Warm jet of fluid. Thrust. Grunt. One after another, he shuddered against her back, his hot breath puffing past her face with each shove while he filled his little prey—his toy with his seed. His potent, life-giving seed.

Would Al mind raising the man’s child? If she didn’t say anything, he’d never know. Would he even notice how strong—how energetic the boy would become? And it would be a boy. Though Jenna was always careful, but perhaps this time ... Nothing was perfect. And she wanted a child. His child. Her predator’s child.

Now, that would be a point made by both of them. Together.

Once he finished pumping, the mystery man withdrew from her. No! Not yet. I want his pulse back inside me! The void—the slurping vacuum. Too soon. A groan tore from Jenna as she glared over her shoulder at him. While whizzing behind him, cars honked. His smile wider, he cared no more than she. When a tremor tore through her, her knees wobbled and her sliding fists squeaked along the rail; he blurred. As did the dimming world.

Before she could even yelp, his fingers flew upwards to latch on to her shoulder.

After a long swallow, Jenna stared at him through her swaying brown tresses. Though the thin smile remained, his head was tilted and his gray eyes were narrow; a flicker of concern slipped into them when she once more wavered. Jenna had made him happy. And he cared for her. Even as another shudder ripped through her, spurting a glob of his essence from her to spatter on the sand-covered asphalt between them, she bent her legs.

Air slid from him as, wide-eyed for the first time, he guided her descent to her knees. After sweeping loose strands from her face, she cocked her head and lifted her quivering hands to guide his dribbling knob to her lips. Just seeing the expression on his face as he glanced around, the first she’d seen him anxious, sent shivers through her.

But, oh, that wondrous salty flavor. It tasted... His tasted of power. Of magical, cock-driving, slut-pounding power. Moans rippled from Jenna as she twirled her tongue, rolled her head to glide her mouth over the pulsating bulb, and sucked on the living engine of her ... More than predator. Predators didn’t care. He cared. He played. He taunted. He challenged. But he also cared. He would let no harm come to his baby bird.

A set of tickling lines descended her thighs; more of his drooling seed slithered from Jenna’s battered pussy. Her heart ached with—sadness. She wanted all of it. After releasing one hand from his shaft, she pushed her fingers upward into herself, driving his thick goo back inside. Jenna was a good slut. No, she was his good slut.

Behind him, the honking traffic never slowed, and at first Jenna’s eyes tracked passing stares. But another glance up at his once again smiling face, and she kept her gaze locked on his. Gentle, smooth, and warm with his pulse, his fingertips skimmed her puffing cheeks and pushed several wind-driven strands from her face. He wanted to see her as much as she craved seeing him.

Yet, all magical moments must end.

After a lengthy exhale, he tugged free of her lips before he could swell once more. While emitting a matching sigh, Jenna watched him pull up his shorts and return to the car. With a long grunt, she gripped the railing and hauled herself to her wobbly feet. Wavering, she gaped at the passing traffic, now ogling her naked frame, standing alone, with white streaks slithering down her shaky legs. After throwing her shoulders back, which lifted her wobbling tits high, Jenna swallowed and strode after him.

Once she was seated inside, the man returned Jenna’s bikini, whipped the car around and headed for town. After clenching the sun-warmed material in her fist, she rolled her lips and held it in both hands. With a long exhale, she placed it back in the center console and stretched out in the bright sunshine. When he glanced at her, his eyebrow raised.

At every traffic light, she grinned while letting the whistles, comments, and stares sweep over her. And him. Yes, she belonged to him. As her fingers found and tugged on her nipples, pulling more catcalls from passing cars, his smile widened. Yes, she was his. And he was hers. In their own special, unique way.

Only after they pulled into the parking lot and the windows and the roof were once more in place did she slide into her swimsuit. Leaned back in his seat, he remained silent, tracking every slow motion of her twisting frame and sliding fingers. Once done, his lower lip had a slight waver as he nodded to her. Not at her, but to her. As his eyes softened, Jenna’s heart raced.

After stepping from the car, the man stood and waited, this time scanning beyond the lot to the rolling sea. When a cawing gull careened overhead, he didn’t flinch. Lost in thought? Her door thumped closed; still no motion, but for the steady rise and fall of his solid chest. Even after she stepped closer, for the longest time, he remained still.

When he moved, he was like lightning. His hands, soft and yet hard, gripped her, pulling Jenna towards him. When he tilted his head and parted his lips, Jenna’s heart hammered. Everything blurred but his twinkling eyes, open mouth and the powerful sparkling tongue poised inside.

Whose groan was louder when she lurched onto her tip-toes and thrust her lips against his? Jenna’s tongue drove upwards; his plunged. They played as her mouth rolled against his soft, warm, pillowy lips. After everything they’d done, this was what she—needed most. Shared moans, muffled, slid between them while his Jenna-protecting arms pressed her tight to him. With a primal groan, she pushed into him and dragged her nails along the slick skin over his powerful Jenna-driving back muscles.

Under the bright sun, in the middle of the broad hotel lot, they lingered in each other’s embrace, as cum and perspiration dribbled down Jenna’s shaking legs. At last, breathing heavy, his sweat-glistening frame stepped from her swaying body. As Jenna also struggled for air, tremors merged with the surges of twinkling pleasure he’d left behind, still building.

She stared at him. He had no smile. There was something about this hard man. Something different? Yes, something had changed. This silent man with the piercing gray eyes. The smile was now one of contemplation. When his eyes crinkled at last, blood roared in her head and she almost missed his words.

The first words he’d spoken the whole time.

“If I call, will you come to me?”

After struggling to replay the words, Jenna glanced at the hotel. Al? The others? Her other life. The one before him? Did any of that matter anymore? With a swift sigh, her fist balled as Jenna flung her gaze to him and quickly bobbed her chin.

With that, an unusual shadow swept behind his eyes. Not fear; apprehension. With a swift swallow, he turned and walked away. All Jenna could do was gulp. Once more, he’d—left her. Oh, but he’d call and ... And ... Flutters tore through her insides. As her body writhed, she slapped her splayed, shaking fingers on the sunbaked roof of the car; warm spurts flooded her soaked bikini bottoms to dribble free down her legs. His potent scent wafted upwards.

He would call. Of course he would. He had to. Wait! Why had he said “if?”? No matter, she’d wait. And, when he called, she would most definitely find a way. Jenna was his. Yes, somehow, some way, she’d get to him. Oh, God. Would she ever.

Because he was also hers.

If he called...

“He’d better call,” Jenna murmured as, blue sky swirling with the gray asphalt, she staggered behind him; tracking every single one of his rhythmic, earth-shaking footfalls towards the hotel.

A moan slipped from her amongst a sliding trail of saliva as she stepped into the cool shade of the building. With a calm smile on her lips, Jenna inhaled the aroma of his essence seeping from her bikini bottoms as her soft footsteps crossed the chilly marble lobby.

She’d do anything for him. Anything at all. Jenna may yet be Al’s wife, but she was the gorgeous, quiet man’s ... Toy? Pet? Prey animal? Slut? Baby bird? All of these? None? Whatever the title; it meant nothing.

She was his—lover.

And he was hers.