The Lake

“What for? Don’t you like it here?”

“It’s awfully late,” she said.

Late. How lame.

Charlie stopped. He was bare to the waist. Just another step or two, Charlie. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“You mad at me?”

“No. It isn’t you.”

“You’re mad at me ’cause I left my pants on.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, they’re off now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Leigh said.

She stared at the dark surface in front of him. Of course it doesn’t matter, she told herself. Oh sure.

“I should’ve took ’em off,” he said. “I knew I was s’posed to. I was just too yellow, that’s all. I’m awfully sorry. I wanted to, that’s for sure.”

“Charlie, we shouldn’t be like this.”

“I guess not. But I don’t want us to leave, though.” He waded out. He walked up the beach, hands crossed to cover his groin. “Cold,” he whispered.

Leigh draped her nightgown over the boat seat and went to him.

You were going to leave, she reminded herself. What are you doing?

Her heart thudded. Her mouth was dry. She met Charlie and put her arms around him. His wet skin felt cold. His arms went around her back. His open mouth found hers, and his tongue pushed in. She squirmed against him, moaning with the feel of his penis pressing thick and hard against her belly.

Where their bodies met, the chill went away. The skin of his back was still wet and cold. Her hands moved down to his buttocks. Charlie, following her lead, moved his hands down to her rump. They felt big and warm.

Soon, Leigh took her mouth away. Kissing the side of his neck, she reached behind and took his wrists. She eased away from him. She lifted his hands to her breasts, and trembled at their touch. His hands were callused but gentle. Leigh closed her eyes. She clung to his hips as he caressed her. The hands glided over her breasts, enclosed them, held them tenderly, tightened and squeezed, roamed them, exploring, then squeezed again.

“Kiss,” Leigh muttered.

He crouched. She held his shoulders, and he kissed her left nipple. His tongue thrust. Leigh moaned as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and probing.

Fingers in his wet hair, she urged his head closer. Her breast felt engulfed.

He rubbed her thighs. His mouth went to her other breast, and his hands moved higher as he licked the nipple. Higher until his thumbs stroked the creases of her groin.

Leigh’s grip tightened on his hair. Charlie made sucking noises tugging at her nipple. His hands swept over her hips, around her buttocks, the backs of her legs, then up again, curling in and pressing. With a gasp, Leigh locked her knees to keep her legs from buckling. Her breast was drawn deep into his mouth. One of his hands went away and came to the front. Its edge pressed her vagina. She shuddered as it sawed back and forth, rubbing, opening her, sliding between her folds, slick and hot. His thumb rose into her.

“Charlie,” she gasped.

His mouth pulled away from her breast, leaving it wet and tingling. “Does it hurt?”

“Hurt? No. Dear God.” She hugged his head between her breasts. His thumb pushed and circled. His hand pressed hard, part of it rubbing her clitoris. She squirmed on it.

Then she released his head and squatted. Charlie sank to his knees, his thumb still inside her. He curled his other hand behind her neck to hold her steady. She reached between his legs. His penis felt huge. Her fingers enclosed it, slid down its length. She gently squeezed his scrotum, glided her palm up the underside of his shaft, then let herself fall backward onto the sand.

Charlie loomed over her, kneeling between her bent legs, holding himself up with stiff arms. Leigh stroked his sides. “In me,” she whispered. “I want you in me.”

“You sure?”

“My God.”

“I mean…you won’t get a baby?”

“It’s okay.” Probably, she thought. She had already counted. Her period was due in four days.

Charlie pressed down, his hips forcing her thighs even farther apart. She dug her heels into the sand, lifting herself to meet him.

His penis rubbed her. It moved slowly, spreading her, barely inside, sliding along her slit. Then it began to ease in. Leigh thrust up. The penis filled her.

Charlie’s tongue pushed into her mouth. She sucked it. His tongue was in her, his penis was in her. She possessed both, and they possessed her. She writhed. His tongue thrust and retreated, matching the strokes of his penis. She gasped through her nose. She heard wet sounds and Charlie moaning. She dug her heels into his buttocks. He rammed deeper, and suddenly went rigid. Leigh sucked his tongue hard. Her insides quaked with the feel of him all the way in, jerking and throbbing and pumping a flood.

She cried out into his mouth.

SIXTEEN

A gentle rapping woke Leigh up. She raised her head off the pillow and groaned.

“We’re going out for the big ones,” Jenny called through the door. “Want to come along?”

“Okay,” Leigh said. “Time for me to shower first?”

“No problem.”