“Willow, baby, Idon’t think this is going to work.”
“Engage your core, Weston.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, peeking back at me. “Brace your weight on your arms, spread your legs, and don’t lose your balance.”
The sun crests over the mountains to the east, the water in the deep corner of the cove like glass on this quiet Sunday morning. The sky explodes in pastels, thick clouds like puffs of floating cotton candy, but it’s the sight of Willow rising on her knees as she pulls the bottoms of her bathing suit aside, revealing the slightest glimpse of her plump, pink pussy that takes my breath away.
She insisted we share a paddleboard this morning, and I was a little taken aback when we reached beyond the break of the low-tide waves and Willow demanded I take my cock out. She tugged my shorts down just enough for it to spring free, pulled a condom out from the waistband of her bathing suit bottoms, and then demanded I put it on as she turned around, balancing herself on all fours.
Her eyes shimmer mischievously in the morning light as she grins at me, bracing her weight on her knees and slipping her ankles beneath my thighs. The board sways as she settles between my legs, her plush and perfect fucking ass nestling itself right up against my aching cock.
A tortured groan leaves my throat as she balances on one arm—like she’s doing fucking yoga or something, the incredible goddamn woman—and reaches back with her free hand, grasping my length. She pumps me twice, sending a rush of sparks through my veins. Swiping the moisture gathered at mytip, she coats my base before lifting her hips and swiping my cock through her slit, then notching me at her entrance.
“God-fucking-dammit, Willow,” I growl through gritted teeth as she sinks down on me, her ass flushing with my hips, flesh bouncing with the movement of the board beneath us. “You’re killing me, baby.”
“No,” she rasps, flashing me her dimples. “I’m bringing your fantasies to life.”
She lifts before dropping back down at a rhythm slow enough that it doesn’t send us tumbling into the ocean, but with enough force that I feel every flawless flutter of her perfect pussy when she throws herself back on me. I grip her ass, spreading wide as I rock her faster.
The view is fucking unreal. Willow’s hair sways down her back, skin rippling with every bounce of her hips, the slap of our skin echoing over the waves that lap against the board. The Pacific stretches forever in front of me, sky streaked with shades of fuchsia and periwinkle as her beautiful moan cuts through the salt air.
“You are every fantasy, love.”
“Wes...” Her breathhitches. “You’re going to be late.”
“Wills, I gotta eat it before I go surfing. You know that, baby.” I lift my chin, smiling at her through the sheets of water that blur my vision. Even beneath the stream, I can see just how pretty and flushed her skin is, the way her breasts bounce with each heave of her chest. “It’s part of my routine now. I perform better when I can taste your pussy on my lips.”
“Fuck,” she mutters, slamming her head back against the wall of the outdoor shower.
It’s been a month-long addiction to Willow Graham, and I’ve come to realize that my days are undoubtedly better when they’ve started with her coming on my face.
Leo’s offering a youth camp this week, which means I get a break from the level of training I’m used to. My responsibility is to assist with the kids instead. The first session starts late enough that I had time to paddle with Willow in the harbor. She wanted to wash the saltwater off before she went home to prepare for her shift at Honeysuckle, and while I had no need to do the same, considering I’ll be spending all day on the beach, I wasn’t going to say no when she invited me in with her.
I dive back between Willow’s thighs, running my tongue along her slit and spreading her open, coating myself in the sweet taste of her arousal before settling over her clit. My fingers dance along her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin and putting her on edge.
I kneel before her—worshipping at her altar. Leg draped over my shoulder, hands twisted in my hair, she rocks herself against my face. Sweet, soft whimpers float from her mouth, muffled beneath the water that pounds against the concrete floor.
“Wes,” she moans, voice rising above the veil of noise, my name a jumbled, nearly unintelligible mess of impassioned breath.
“Willow?” someone calls from beyond the walls.
I freeze, mouth still buried in her pussy.
She tenses, breath hitching in shock. “Umm... yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
Recognition flashes across her eyes as an irritated grumble of, “He must be helping out with the camp,” leaves her mouth. “Yeah, Camden.” There’s a bite in her raised tone. “I’m fine.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I rasp, slipping my finger inside her, causing a gasp to spring from her lips. “You don’t say anyone else’s name when I’m between these thighs.”
“Wes,” she hisses. “God.”
“Yeah, baby. More like that.”
I crook my finger, pumping once before adding a second and flicking my tongue over her clit. She hums, rolling her pussy over my mouth, setting the pace she needs.
“What’d you say?” Camden calls again.
Before Willow can speak, I pull back and snap, “She’s busy and uninterested.”
