42 Filthy Fucking Stories (55 page)

He dropped to his knees, not caring about the muddy puddle pooling beneath him. He kissed and nibbled her lower lips, licking her clean before entering her again with his tongue. Katy clutched onto his shoulders and first pushed down his shirt, then raked her fingernails lightly across his hot skin.

Katy’s next climax erupted through her entire body.

When her shaking finally calmed, Spiky Hair helped her stand, then gently pulled her to him, holding her still for a lingering minute.

Katy laughed softly, then looked up at the “stranger” in front of her.
 

“John. huh?”

“That’s as good a name as any other,” he said, staring into her deep brown eyes.

“I knew it was you, the second I spotted you.”

“What gave it away?” Ryan asked.

“Your ass,” she said. “I’ve always loved your ass.
 
Still do, I guess.”

After a moment she asked, “What about me? When did you know?”

“Your breasts.
 
No one has tits like you, Katy. I can see them all the way across a crowded club.”
 

“Well,” she said, “Let’s take our tits and ass home and have the best make-up sex of our lives.”

“As long as you wear the same outfit. That shit’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Ryan pulled Katy close as they walked to her Civic. She felt her pussy twitch in anticipation, knowing Ryan’s cock was already getting hard again.

XXX

Sex on the Beach
 

Mike stared at the sun painted ocean, squinting his eyes at the sparkling horizon, as foaming waves crested, fell, and crashed onto the bleached sand of the peaceful beach.
 

A young couple strolled by him, walking just slow enough to keep whatever they were sipping from their pineapples from spilling. They were happy; talking and laughing and kicking muddy sand into the endless waves.
 

Mike had always loved the ocean. Moving from the sunny skies and warm beaches of San Diego had killed him, but the firm in Godforsaken Minneapolis payed him a slightly higher salary, and gave him a company car. Considering the cost of living between Southern California and Minneapolis felt like pennies on the dollar, the choice wasn’t exactly easy, but it wasn’t hard either.

It may have been harder if he had someone special to keep him in California. But he didn’t. Despite being a reasonably good looking guy, in trim shape, it had been a long time since Mike had been with anyone long term.
 

The ocean had a serenity Mike felt nowhere else; something he’d longed for since
 
leaving San Diego two years before. He had already begun to feel somewhat removed from life his last few years in SoCal, but moving to Minneapolis made him feel like a ghost, aimlessly drifting through the long and empty hallways of life.
 

He had booked two week’s worth of vacation on the pristine beaches of the Bahamas, hoping that the white hot sand and gorgeous skies would help make him feel alive again. But the first week had flown by, and Mike had barely said a word to anyone. If anything, he was feeling lonelier than ever before.
 

He had, however, done plenty of people-watching.
 

When you feel like a ghost, it’s easy, even comforting, to watch others around you. Though Mike held little interest in his own life, he loved to sit, stare, and manufacture his own imagined reality for anyone he saw. This quiet mental architecture used to make him happy, and less alone, as though he was an editor of reality, writing more interesting lives for anyone in his vision.
 

But in the Bahamas it only made him feel more depressed.
 

Fuck this.

Mike was on vacation, and he
would
feel alive, even if it killed him.

He rose to his feet, brushed the sand from his shorts, then ran into the ocean at full speed as far as he could – like a bullet from a gun. Salt water splashed his face, as the majestically angry waves threatened to rip his legs from under him.
 

Mike’s heart started to race as fresh adrenaline soaked his blood and shot through his body.
 

Mike was instantly high from his sudden spontaneity. God, how he missed feeling alive, hearing the song of life ringing in his ears like he did at the moment:
 

The rolling of the waves, the cry of a bird, the laughter of someone behind him.
 

Yet, unlike a few minutes before, the sounds rang as the honest background of his own life, rather than being a part of someone else’s story.
 

Mike braided his fingers and held them on top of his head, closing his eyes as the waves crashed against his chest. He smiled, eyes still closed, then moved his hands from his head and started twirling around in wide circles of careless abandon.
 

******

Allie’s floppy straw hat fluttered in the breeze as she sat at the bar, watching the quiet man soaking in an inner sea of his calm, then continued to watch as he suddenly shot up from the sand, then ran like a train off its track into the ocean.
 

The man had to be crazy. Surely, Allie was only an hour away from explaining his sudden suicide to the authorities.
 

The stranger suddenly stopped, then started twirling in the ocean, as though he was drunk on the froth.
 

Allie wasn’t sure if it was her psych major or his smile, but something about the stranger intrigued her, pulled her attention like metal to magnet. She suddenly wanted to meet him, longed to hear his story, and to know why he had run into the ocean like a man who no longer cared.
 

Allie took her eyes from the stranger making circles in the ocean, just long enough to order another drink. When she turned back, the man was emerging from the sea – a bright smile lighting his face. Allie laughed, thinking that his smile was so wide it looked like the waves had grown lips and sucked the cum from his cock on their way to shore.
 

The thought triggered a laugh, but ended with a sticky feeling between her legs.
 

Allie couldn’t resist the urge to talk to this man any longer. The bartender set her long island iced tea onto the bar. Allie paid, then rose from her seat and started down the steps and onto the hot sand below. Her feet sank into the heat, bleeding between her toes and into her sandals, and radiating up onto her pale legs.
 

Allie swayed her hips as she made her way past the much smaller, more athletic looking tourists. She didn’t care that she wasn’t, nor had ever been, a size two. She was smoking hot, and knew it. Her confident sway set it on display for everyone to see.

As Allie drew closer to the spot where the stranger had been sitting, she suddenly paused in the sand, then bent to admire a shard of seemingly ordinary shell. She picked it up, turned it in her hand, then tossed it in the air, catching it on its way back to the sand, just as the stranger was passing.
 

She smiled as he walked by, and was met with a grin and a curious look.
 

“Do you always make time to admire the ordinary?” he asked, passing by Allie, retrieving his towel from the sand, and wiping his face with the corner.
 

“It’s therapeutic,” she said, “appreciating the rhythm of life from ordinary things. Simplicity, especially when it’s unexpected or sudden. It can stimulate a surprising number of feelings.” Allie kicked the sand and looked down at the shell, rotating it in her hand and pretending not to be staring at the stranger from the corner of her eye. “Kind of like your sprint into the ocean.”
 

The stranger bristled, likely shaken that someone had witnessed his momentary lapse. “I felt like proving I was alive,” he laughed. “It’s too easy for the everyday grind to pound the feeling out of us.” He was speaking to Allie, but staring at the sea.
 

“So a 30 second sprint was enough to make you feel ‘alive’ again, huh?” Allie sounded as though she were mocking him, but she was really only trying to play.
 

The stranger turned to her, found her eyes, then stared. She was shorter than him by a few inches, and the sexy slope of her curves led his eyes to her hips. The full bust line of her two piece bikini pushed her swollen C’s into a perfect pout, and her bright green eyes made her hair look especially black, like the fur of a cat. She shrank beneath his gaze, which ran along the length of her body, before returning to her eyes.
 

“As you said,” his voice was nearly a whisper, “it’s the little things.”
 

The cool in his eyes and the steel in his voice made Allie feel suddenly small. He took one small step toward her, which felt like two. The stranger had a medium build, but his flint black eyes made him seem like a tower. His large nose, pointing straight beneath a mop of shaggy brown hair, had hidden his beauty from faraway. Sitting at the bar, Allie had found the stranger attractive. Up close, he was gorgeous, with toned arms and abs she could do her laundry on.
 

She traded his gaze for the rolling waves, but could still feel the heat of his eyes warming her body. “So, can I ask your name?” Allie asked, in a tone that suggested she barely cared.
 

“You could,” he said. “Doesn’t mean you’d get an answer.”

Allie wasn’t sure if he was joking, but laughed anyway, then turned back to meet his gaze with fresh confidence. “Alright then, what’s your name?”

“Mike. And yours?”
 

“Allie.”

“Well Allie, do you always initiate conversation with strangers sitting alone on the beach?” A warm, genuine smile widened his face.

“You started it,” Allie said, matching Mike’s grin, “I was only admiring a shell.”

“Touché,” his smile stretched so wide, it turned into a laugh. “It’s been an amazing day so far, would you care to make it even better by joining me?”
 

“Ah. He’s charming and handsome,” Allie said.

They both laughed, then fell to their asses, sitting in the sand, talking slowly at first, then quickly, gaining speed as the sun sank lower. When the orange globe was about to bid farewell to the day, Mike turned to Allie and said, “Tell me, Allie, what have you done today that made you feel truly alive?”
 

Allie held the thought, chewing on it a moment before giving her answer. She loved the way this man spoke to her, as if he
truly
wanted to know her. Mike held her attention, made her forget about the quickly passing minutes, pondering each question rather than tiring of the exchange like she usually did.

“I suppose coming over and trying to get you to talk to me” she said, staring at the spot where sky and ocean mingled.
 

“Ah ha! So you were trying to get me to talk to you.”

His smile was so wide it seemed to remake his face, and it looked so fresh Allie felt like she was the first person to ever see it so big. “Something about you made me want to know you,” she said. “Then I saw you run into the ocean at full speed, basking in the sunshine and twirling like an idiot.” She laughed. “I found myself hoping you were here alone.”
 

Mike drew a figure eight in the sand, then stared into her eyes. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know how lonely I was until you came over to show me.” His shoulders sagged, as though embarrassed.
 

“Ha,” she said. “You’re doing better than me. I knew I was lonely before I left the bar.”

He pulled his knees toward his chest, then rested his arms and let his fingers dangle in front. “We should do something to feel alive together,” he said after a short, pregnant silence. “You know, something we’ll remember for years.”

Allie laughed, “Like what?”

“Well, what would you suggest?” he asked, challenging her with his dark eyes.

“I haven’t a clue. You’ve covered randomly running into the ocean. Doing it again wouldn’t hold the same effect for you I imagine.”

He laughed, then ran his hands through his hair. After a long silence, he said, “Ever had sex on a beach?”

Laughter shot from her mouth, “Ha, wow, you’re not forward at all.”

“I believe in saying exactly what I’m thinking.”
 

Mike might be exhausting if she had to deal with him every day, but on vacation he was a puzzle she wanted to solve. “Yes,” she said. “I have. But never on a public beach.”
 

“Want to make a new memory?”

 
Allie downed the last of her drink; if nothing else, she could blame it on alcohol. Three long island ice teas were definitely enough for a solid excuse. She rose from the sand and surveyed the beach. “Where?”

He laughed, pulling her back down to the sand. “Right here.

The warmth of his hand felt good on her bare skin. Almost too good. Allie had forgotten how great it felt to have the hands of a near stranger on her body. More than that, she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.