Chapter 13

I’d made my way up Wanda’s back, running my hands smoothly and firmly along her skin, wrapping my fingers around her sides. She was that level of fit that I didn’t see her ribs, but I could still feel them as I ran my fingers across her. I worked around the ties of her bikini, which were just white strings and proved little hindrance, and got to her shoulders.

“Fuck,” Wanda muttered as I slid my thumbs across her shoulder blades, “For real though, Robbie. That is really good. You’ve kind of got me getting sleepy here - is it weird if I actually moan a little bit? I swear I’m not trying to make it a sexual thing.”

“It’s all good,” I assured her quietly.

Wanda sort of wiggled down, almost like a dog settling into the spot, and closed her eyes as she let herself drift in my hands. And she did moan, just a little here or there, as I worked her shoulders, and then down her arms. When I moved back to do her legs I thought she might have actually been asleep, but she helpfully lifted her feet for me to start there, and her toes slowly flexed and curled as I worked sunscreen into her feet and massaged her soles and heels, then made my way up her ankles, calves and to her thighs.

I was getting closer and closer to her ass, her legs spreading apart and those cotton shorts she was wearing starting to press against her. When I was about halfway up her thighs she shifted, and I thought she was done for a moment but instead I found she was just raising her hips and she slid the shorts halfway down her thigh. “Help me out?” she mumbled.

So I did, pulling her shorts off and leaving her clad in a matching small bikini bottom to her top. It barely covered half of her juicy ass cheeks, each one like it was carved from smooth, flexible marble.

“Don’t be shy,” Wanda said. “You can touch my butt. Sometimes it feels like half the internet sends me disgusting photos and messages about it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that can be tough. Cassidy hates when she gets gross messages.”

“Comes with the territory,” Wanda muttered and shrugged as I put my hands back on her thighs and started massaging higher. “Not that it’s OK, but you gotta learn to let it go. There’s only so many grainy photos of someone having shot their load to a printed picture of your ass before you stop caring.”

“And that,” I said. “Is fucking gross.”

Wanda chuckled and really didn’t care as my hands travelled from thigh to cheek, and massaged her there. I didn’t spend any more or less time on her ass, and she moaned a few more times before I patted her hip. “Alright, flip over. Let’s get your front done quick.”

She rolled under me, and I sprayed down her smooth stomach and rubbed it in, then again across her chest. She didn’t say a word, just closing her eyes as my fingers trailed right up to the fabric of her bikini top, playing over the bare parts of her cleavage without hesitation.