Amazing, huh? Well, I’m not the kind of man who blushes but I’m a damn goner right now and the blood is rushing to my cheeks.
She’s reaping all kinds of havoc on my self-control.
The curtain parts and she’s standing there, arms stretched to either side of the wall as she poses. She’s in a simple dress to cover up her bikini. The straw hat she has on her head is huge and floppy. The sunglasses she has on are way too big for her face. To make them even more perfect for her, they are baby pink and shaped like hearts. She blows me a kiss and I catch it, stuffing it in my pocket.
She lifts the dress up and gives me a quick flash of the simple neon green bikini that I love. I can’t wait to peel it off her, but before I can look too long, she drops the hem of the dress and shuts the curtain.
“What do you think?” she asks me, wearing the tenth bathing suit she’s tried on. It’s bright red and she’s paired it with a floppy white hat that says ‘Beach Bum’ in black cursive letters and black sunglasses in the shape of lips to match.
Her style is so fun and loud. I can see just how much Kenneth was suppressing her by making her wear dresses and those ankle breakers called wedges.
“I think you look foxy, Cupcake.”
She claps her hands excitedly and jumps up and down. My eyes focus on her tits as they bounce from the movement.
Perfection.
“Hey,” she snaps her fingers in front of my face, “my eyes are up here.”
“You sure? Cause these were staring right at me,” I tease.
She giggles and the rings holding the curtain scratch along the metal rod as she shuts it. “Okay, last one.”
I readjust my erection, situating it to the left, and exhale when the pressure of the zipper is no longer pressing against my shaft. I’ve been hard for the last four hours. Doesn’t that mean I need to see a doctor?
Or shower…
“I need your help,” she says. “I can’t tie it in the back.”
No need to ask me twice.
I stand and look behind me to make sure the sales associate isn’t staring at me, and I slip by the curtain. I come to a standstill when I see her standing there in the black bikini I love so much. The cut down the middle stops at her navel, showing the fullness of her tits. She gives a shaky, timid spin and the thong of the bikini is settled between her cheeks, but I can also see a faint outline of her underwear underneath too. Good. Didn’t want her trying on stuff other people have without washing it.
Her ass is something men have fought and killed over. I clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out or worse, slamming her against the wall, pulling her swimsuit to the side, and fucking her raw until she’s screaming my name.
“Do you like it?”
She didn’t need my help at all. Charlie wanted us to have privacy because she knew how much I’d like it.
“No.”
Her shoulders slump.
“I fucking love it, and I’m going to leave because I’m too close to ripping it off you and fucking you against that wall.” I point to the wall across from her that has a metal hook in the middle holding the outfits that she likes.
“Oh.” Her lips make a cute O shape.
“Yeah, oh. And you’re getting all of them because there will be a day where I fuck you against a wall. It just won’t be this one.” I press a hand over my cock and her eyes drop between my legs. I snap my fingers, taking a page from her book, and say, “My eyes are up here Cupcake.” But I give her another once over, grunting a frustrated noise from not being able to touch her, and force myself to leave.
“Excuse me, Sir? Only one person allowed in the fitting rooms,” the associate says, her high-pitched nasally voice grating my nerves.
I sit down and don’t bother to hide the effect my woman has on me. “Sorry. She needed help with her thong.”
“Whistler!” Charlie scolds me from the fitting room, and I give a cheeky smile to the sales associate.
The annoying saleswoman who causes my erection to flag opens and closes her mouth and fiddles with her mousey brown hair before scurrying away. I give her a four-finger wave, a simple toodaloo.
When Charlie comes out, she’s wearing a new green flowy dress and by the looks of her hard nipples, she isn’t wearing a bra, and my mind comes to the conclusion of no bottoms either.
Out. To. Kill. Me.
“Hey, Sexy Cupcake,” I greet her with a low rumble, staring at her perky tits.
“Cupcakes aren’t sexy.”
“You obviously haven’t seen yourself.”
She shakes her head, but a small smile plays on her lips. She spreads my knees apart to stand in the middle between my leg and she runs her fingers through my hair. I hum in delight from her touch and close my eyes, enjoying her fully. She’s coming to me, touching me, needing me…
Nothing has ever made me feel better.
“You have everything you want, Cupcake?”
“What can I get from everything?”
“All of it.”
“Whistler, that’s too much. I didn’t expect us to get all of that.”
I slide my palms under her jaw, and she flinches but doesn’t pull away. “You can get all of it. I want you to. We are going to be here for as long as possible before I have no choice but to go back. And we can always come back out here, every weekend if you want, and you’ll have everything you want. Then we will come back in here and get you more stuff because I want to spoil my Cupcake rotten.”
“This is enough stuff to last me years.”
“Good. Plus, this is more for me and less for you, I promise,” I tell her, kidding yet not at the same time. Seeing her in a bathing suit is for me and it’s selfish, I know.
When it comes to her, I’m going to be selfish and selfless all at the same time.
She wants all the stuff? It’s hers. See? Selfless.
You mean I get to see her in a thong bathing suit? Fuck yes. Selfish.
Not ashamed of it either. Not even a little.
She gathers a pile of clothes and I do too, so she doesn’t have to struggle with all of the goodies. I rip the price tag off the white hat and black sunglasses shaped like lips and plop them on her. Her personality is bright and loud when she allows herself to show it and I want her to with me.
“I can’t wear the hat. It will blow off on the bike,” she says.
Good point.
“Fine but the moment we get on the beach, I want to see you wear it.”
She stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, making me feel a bit boyish.
We can’t hold hands since ours are full of stuff, but we manage to pile some unhealthy snacks on the top of the mountain of clothes and towels.
The cashier couldn’t come fast enough. I was losing grip on my stuff. We groan in unison as we throw it on the worn black conveyor belt. I sneak in a few packets of starburst from the shelf as the lady rings us up, each item dinging to signal a new purchase, and run to grab a red lifeguard backpack.
“Did you get flip-flops?” I ask Charlie as I pull out my wallet.
“Oh. No. Good idea.”
“Get me a pair too. Size fifteen,” I tell her.
“Holy crap,” she whispers when she hears my size.
“You know what they say about big feet,” the cashier jokes, and Charlie gasps before hurrying away to the shoes. “I was only kidding,” the lady says, a hint of regret in her voice. “I didn’t get to finish the joke.”