“It’s nice, isn’t it?” she asks, wading in front of me.
“It is,” I say, slowly closing the space between us. I cup the nape of her neck in my palm and pull her closer, my lips covering hers. This time, it’s warm, wet, and hungry. Charlotte’s eyes close and she links her hands around my neck as the kiss goes deeper. Part of me wants to look around to see if anyone is watching. The other part of me doesn’t care. That part seems to win the fight because I back her against the edge, lifting her onto the step in the water.
“I want to taste you,” I say gruffly, and she grins.
“Well then, come back for more,” she says, running her hands through my hair and pulling my mouth back towards hers.
“No,” I say with my hands on her thighs. “I want totaste you,” I tell her. Her eyes search mine, wild and mischievous. I take a deep breath and go under.
Charlotte’s hands are laced in my hair as I find the elastic on her lace panties and pull them down. Then, I cover her pussy with my mouth. My tongue wastes no time finding her clit, flicking and sucking while the clock ticks. I need air, but not as badly as I need her to come for me.
Lucky for me, I don’t have to see her face or hear her whimpers to know she is edging. I can feel the muscles in her thighs and her torso flexing. Not to mention the way she’s pulling my hair.
Still, time is of the essence. I know myself. I can hold my breath for roughly a little less than a minute when I put my mind to it, thanks to diving class in college. But I’d pride myself on unraveling her in less than that. I bare down on her clit, sucking, kissing, nibbling and flicking until her hips buck against my mouth, shaking with the force of the orgasm.
I come out of the water, and both of us are gasping. But it only makes me grin.
“You are unreal,” she says.
“You’re welcome,” I say, giving her a kiss, wanting her to taste her sweet self.
“But you know…two can play that game,” she says slyly, and I swear it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Charlotte staring up at me through her eyelashes, her skin glistening from the water, her breath rising in the cold air, her cheeks rosy. It’s giving me a raging hard-on. I am about two seconds from picking her up, bending her over the edge of the pool, and having my way with her.
Apparently, two seconds is too long. The next thing I know, she is tugging my briefs down and clutching my dick in her hand.
“Fuck,” I let out when I feel the pressure of her hand.
“Not so cocky now, are you? Pun intended, of course,” she purrs. I wouldn’t normally let her get away with that sass; I also can’t bring myself to move.
Charlotte pumps her hand up and down the length of me, slowly at first and then a little more quickly, then slow again. I can feel the pressure building inside me, then back down again. Up and down. Up and down. She’s edging me and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it other than reach behind her and grip the edge of the pool in my hands.
“You’re so hot,” she whispers as her hand strokes me from base to tip. She lets the head slide between her fingers, teasing it with every glide. “And you’re so hard for me,” she adds.
My lips part, emitting an aroused sigh at her words. Giving me a hand job in a hot pool is one thing. Dirty talking is another. This girl is going to end me, right here, right now.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” I say, gripping the side harder in my hands. “I need you to get me off,” I tell her.
“Is that what you want?” she purrs.
My voice is rough and growl-like as I look at her. “Get me the fuck of–” I stop talking, and she stops stroking as voices come from around the corner.
“Shit,” I say.
“Oh my god,” she adds.
I hop out of the pool and hold out a hand. “Come on. The cabin is right around the corner.”
I pull her out and we start to run as quickly as we can without slipping on the pavement towards the cabin. But then Charlotte stops. “Wait! Our clothes!”
I look back and see the shadows of some guys walking toward us. I rush back, grab our clothes off the chair, and we dash off to the cabin.
Once the door is closed and locked, we both laugh. I pick her up in my arms and take her to the bed where we climb under the covers. We are soaked; shivering and laughing, but very much still turned on.
“You’re still hard,” she says. “Even though it’s like thirty degrees outside.”
“Well, it’s about ninety-eight in here and rising,” I say as I crawl on top of her.
Our mouths connect again, our tongues reuniting, picking up right where we left off. I take her hands in mine and raise them above her head, pinning them to the bed. I lace my fingers with hers as I straddle her, a smirk on my face and fire in my eyes.
