“I'll do anything to avoid going home,” I say, and it's a joke, but possibly not a lie.
Marty cocks an eyebrow but doesn't respond. “So,” he says instead. “Snorkelling is a bit shit. I'll file that under things I also got wrong today along with the car-slash-scooter false start.”
I shake my head and smile. What on Earth has he possibly got wrong today? It's all been so very, very perfect.
“Race you back to the beach?” I kick off before I can even hear his response after I bring the goggles of my mask back down but not the tube. I'm surprised my body slips easily into freestyle, breathing every three strokes, and I have no doubt the lack of significant waves help as I swim for more than a few minutes before I realise Marty hasn't caught up like I expect. I can't see him swimming beside me, so I stop and look around, wondering if I've gone in the wrong direction again.
But he's behind me, bobbing up and down as he swims towards me in a haphazard breaststroke. I think I may have found the one thing he can't do with charm and flair; swim. Twenty years ago, that would have been a turn-off but today, with everything I know about him and everything he's done to make today special, I am aware of something wrapping its claws around my insides with such a stranglehold it's almost uncomfortable.
Waiting for him to catch up, I float on my back and do lazy frog kicks to take me towards the shore, keeping my eyes closed to the bright sun that is now high in the sky. Then I feel another tug at my ankle, and I'm pulled into the hard chest of Marty, who can now just about stand up. I quickly swipe the mask off my head and hold it in one hand as my other arm wraps around his waist.
I don't know who moves to kiss who first, but I know I am hungry for him as our lips collide. Salt touches down on my taste buds as my tongue touches his and it makes me thirsty too. Thirsty for him even though I am neck deep in water. It makes no sense, in the same way he makes no sense. This man who came out of nowhere with his sex appeal and his witty banter and his love of sunsets and his desire for me. None of it makes sense but it's the best kind of nonsense in the world.
Without me really knowing what I’m doing, I'm sliding my hands in his shorts and finding him rock hard and ready and long. As I stroke him, I remember what he felt like in my mouth last night and I groan. I want to go down on my knees forhim. I want to taste and swallow him once more. This thought speeds up my strokes and he responds by bringing his hands to my backside, kneading, kneading and kneading like I'm a dough that demands endless attention. I think briefly about his job. His hands making food, his body running around a kitchen, sleeves rolled up, and that image - him cooking, him making food, him creating dishes people love - makes my pussy clench and more disconcertingly, that hold on my heart squeeze tighter.
“You do something to me,” I tell him. It feels like a safe, ambiguous way to say,I fucking love how you touch me and how you make me feel and how you took me to this secluded beach where I could feel young and carefree again.
“It's all you, cupcake,” he says bending down and pulling me up so I can wrap my legs around him and even though it makes me lose my grip on his dick, I have it back in a second, reaching between my legs and having the perfect position to rub his hard-on against my clit through my bikini bottoms. It's his turn to groan when he realises what I'm doing.
“I wanted today to be about more than just sex,” he whispers between kisses as I continue to rub us together.
“We’re not having sex,” I tease.
“You know what I mean,” he says, but I don’t. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to just give in to the desire. It’s not like we have forever. “Besides, we don’t have condoms.”
“I do,” I say and glance quickly at my bag on the beach.
“Jesus, I should have thought of that.” He shuts his eyes.
“It’s okay. I did...” I begin.
“But I should have,” he says, sounding frustrated. “Just because you're older doesn't mean you have to bemoreresponsible.” He tilts my head up to look at him. “I am old enough to be responsible for myself, and when it comes to sex, for you too.”
His voice is different when he says that, different from the Marty voice that cracks dirty jokes and utters endless filthy innuendos. His new seriousness makes me lean in to kiss him again, this time slower, this time with my hands on his upperarms, exploring the dips and dives of his biceps and triceps. When I pull away, he blinks a few times, and I see it too. He wants me.
“Wanna try something?” he asks, and I nod. I want to try so many things with him, if only I could tell him about some of them.
He takes a few steps, moving us to slightly shallower water so I can stand. Marty reaches under the water and cups my pussy through my bikini bottoms. My knees buckle when the heel of his palm starts to make small circles around my clit. Then his hand is gone, and he leans back from me only to then step closer, bending his knees and I feel the head of his dick glide where his hand was.
“Open your legs, just a bit,” he says, and I do. Then I feel his dick slide along the full length of my pussy and stay there, hard and straight. “Now close them.”
My thighs move to close around him and then I squeeze them tighter around his cock and he hums into my hair.
“Your thighs, they could rule my world,” he grunts out, and I have never loved my body more.
Needing to keep my feet on the bottom of the ocean floor and my grip around him, I am only slightly disappointed I can't lift myself up and kiss him. But then he starts to move, and I feel how his extra height is forcing his cock to push up against my pussy and pleasure ripples through me. I close my eyes, lean into his chest and squeeze my legs closer together.
“This shouldn't feel so good,” I say as the pressure starts to build and while I want him inside me, filling me, stretching me like he did last night, I also don't want to change a single thing.
“The water helps a lot.” He rocks into me a little harder and I gasp. “But fuck yes, humping is not just for teenagers.”
“You can come like this?” I ask.
“What do you think?” he asks with a smile, but I also see the way his eyes roll back a little and his jaw is tense.
I pull back, so my breasts bounce and he watches as he continues to rock against me. A moment later, Marty puts a hand on my breast, squeezes through the fabric before his fingers crawl inside and find my nipple. I close my eyes andthrust my body into his hand and against his shoulder as I pull back up, trapping his fingers where I want them, teasing me.
I then slide my own hands inside the back of his shorts to grab his butt and play with that. I start pawing at his arse, really grabbing as much as I can of the muscle there, but because he's so lean, there really isn't that much there. But when I pull his cheeks apart a little, I hear a grunt come from a place deeper than the previous noises he's made.
