And I fucking explode.
The animal living deep inside me erupts, and I lose it. I fuck her with all my strength, shoving her body into the cushion as I pound my dick in and out of her. Her teeth clench harder on my flesh, possibly breaking the skin, and my balls tighten. I don’t want this to end, but this girl has me in a tailspin. I fuck her with haste until I know I’m done for. With one last shove of my dick, I groan and let go, exploding inside her.
“Jesus…” I breathe, rolling off her. My plan was to catch some of the cushion beside her, but she shoves me off, and I fall, smacking my back onto the deck. She’s up and adjusting her bathing suit before I can even lift my bruised head off the ground.
“Where you going?” I ask, confused as she starts walking back to her house.
“Home. Thanks for the fun night, Numbers. See ya around.”
What the fuck?
Chapter Five
Lucy
Sitting on the back deck, I finish up my grocery list for all the things I’ll need for my barbeque tonight. After running into Carol, the local seafood seller, yesterday, I spent all day scraping the old gunk off the grill and getting it back in working condition. She told me about her fresh seafood shack up the shore, and it got me craving some grilled lobster. My budget told me to stick to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and ramen noodles, but maybe splurging once wouldn’t hurt. I promised myself I’d stick to ramen the rest of the month to make up for the hit I’d take buying lobster tails. Plus, she convinced me she’d give me a great deal being a new customer. Game on.
With the list now complete, I take a rewarding sip of my coffee, appreciating the view. Gran must have loved it here. Waking up to the beautiful ocean waves. The warm sun against her face while she lost herself in thought. I’ve only been here a short time, but it’s starting to set in why she made me promise to come out here.
And she was right to do so. The last few years, I’ve struggled with finding clarity—figuring out what I wanted out of life. I was in and out of jobs and boyfriends. I couldn’t pinpoint my purpose. I had dreams, aspirations, but I also had a short span for responsibility. I spent too much time trying to please everyone around me, I forgot to find pleasure in myself. I let guys walk all over me. Coworkers. Life. I just needed a change.
Gran knew it too. When I got here, there was a letter on the kitchen counter addressed to me. I recognized her handwriting right off the bat. But I’ve yet to open it. I know it’s going to be a gut-wrencher since it’s the last letter she wrote me, but decided I would open it when I felt the time was right. I’ve been here over a week, and yeah, haven’t touched it. One of these days, I’m going to man up and read her last words. But right now, I’m going to focus on today. Specifically, tonight’s dinner. Speaking of dinner, I get a move on it.
Taking a large sip of my coffee, I turn my head as my eyes peek over the rim of my mug at the neighbor’s house. Geez, what was I thinking? My vagina tells me, “Who cares? That was the best sex of my life.” My brain says it wasn’t smart. I mean, I let a stranger blow his load inside me for crying out loud. But I’m on the pill, and obviously living on the edge, so whatever. All I know is I swear I saw Jesus as I came, and I’ve been walking with a limp since Sunday. It’s Tuesday, and I still can’t walk straight. I had way too many lemonades and decided to take Katie’s advice and live a little. Have random sex—check. I didn’t go down to the water expecting all that to happen, but thank God it did.
A part of me feels like walking over there and thanking him for setting me straight—or lopsided, as the case may be, since I’m pretty sure he dislocated my hip with his dick. I’m also seriously considering asking him to do it again. You know, to fuck my hip back in place. And then I realize I’m insane.
He’s the bad guy, Lucy! And he is. I had to take a hose to some guy yesterday who was trying to take measurements of the property lines. Inspections aren’t scheduled until late July. It’s just one more thing he’s trying to do to push things along. He might be a bomb-ass lay, but he’s still the enemy. And I don’t care how fantastic his monster dick is, it’s not going to get me to move the closing date any sooner.
Besides that, it’s clear he’s a playboy. Monday morning, when I stepped outside to get the paper, I noticed a woman walking up his driveway. I threw myself inside my own door before he opened his so he wouldn’t see me. Was I mad he had another woman over so soon after giving me not one, but two explosive orgasms? I mean…no. Yes. I wasn’t! I’m a big girl. We’re both adults here. I needed to release an entire department store of hormones, and he needed to pound me into his lawn chair. Which now has me leaning over to check to see if it’s broken. No one would be shocked if it were at least bent. ‘Cause, I mean…
I shake my head. For real. Don’t care. This summer is about me and taking for once. And that’s what I did. I took his huge cock and used it hardcore. I look down in my coffee mug, wondering if I accidently poured booze in here. My thoughts aren't normally so brash.
I stand, dumping the remainder over the railing, when I get my first glimpse of him since the other night. He’s dressed in a grey suit, his crisp dress shirt missing a tie. Just like the last few times I’ve seen him, minus Sunday night. He’s in flip flops, though, not dress shoes.
“Such a strange dude,” I say to myself. He starts to turn toward me, and I thank God I’m a ninja. I jump through my sliding glass door and lift my head up through the window of the kitchen, only to duck when I find him looking over here. Did he see me? No way. Ninja skills. He stares a bit longer, until something else gets his attention. A woman walks out onto the deck, hands him something, then leans in and kisses him on the cheek.
Ugh. Playboy.
One thing Tampa clearly doesn’t lack is good looking men. Just walking down the beach, I claimed about four hot guys and did them all in my head. By the time I make it to the seafood shop, I feel like I need a cigarette and a nap.
“Ah, I see you listened!” I turn to the cute little lady I met the other day.
“I sure have. Gonna make this dinner my bitch tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
Grow up, Lucy. “Oh…uh, nothing. Gonna make some delicious dinner tonight. So! Whatcha got?”
She sticks out her hand, pointing to the entrance, and we head into her shop. The place is tiny, but jam packed with refrigerated display cases surrounding the outside and aisles of dry foods filling the middle space. I fight not to cover my nose at the overwhelming smell of raw fish. Maybe I should have stuck to burgers—
“You get used to it after a while.”
I turn to my left, not realizing anyone else was in the shop. A guy—I think number three on my mental do-me list—stands super close to me.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Not used to the fish smell. Where I come from, it’s normally already dead and wrapped in a pretty seal and probably pumped with tons of chemicals… Okay! So, hi. I think I just saw you on the beach. Are you a local?” I hope I just saved myself from looking like a complete idiot.
His smile is kind of to die for. Like most of the guys I’ve seen, he’s wearing a set of board shorts and a T-shirt that’s a wee bit too tight. Not that I’m complaining.