The next day, after breakfast this time fruit and slices of cold-cut ham Javier took my hand and led me to the beach. It was empty,
completely devoid of anybody else but us. We sat down and looked out at the sea, the watery horizon merging with the sky some dozens of miles off. I was in a bathing suit he had provided, a modest, unpadded halter-neck bikini top, with an equally unassuming bottom, all black. It was a good choice. I would not have felt comfortable in anything with a more daring cut. It seemed absurd to me, because this was already a bikini, and already most of my body could be easily seen, not to mention the fact that he had had a finger inside me just the day before while pulling at my nipple.
“Do you ever have to work?” I asked, offering a quick smile. He regarded me, leaning back, muscular body looking fantastic in the harsh sunlight. I could see that he was sweating, a shiny line traveling down the middle of his abdomen until reaching the light dusting of dark hair that disappeared beneath the line of his loose-fitting white trunks. His muscles were well-defined, even in his thighs.
“It has gotten to a point,” he told me, glancing over and meeting my eyes. “That I don’t have to.”
“You have someone else managing it all for you?”
“Something like that,” he said, nodding. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back. I looked at his armpit, shaved, embedded deep in the thick muscles of his chest and back.
“What are we doing, Javier?” I whispered. We had sat mostly in silence, listening to the patient lap of the sea against the shore. But an hour had passed, and in that time he had helped rub a second helping of sun cream on me. The touch was, of course, titillating, but my mind was preoccupied. Truth be told, he had not yet ‘shown’ or ‘told’ me what it was he expected of me.
I wanted to know.
“Relaxing,” he told me matter-of-factly. “But I mean-”
“You mean you and me, what are we? Not what are we doing, but what are we, correct?”
I paused, and bit my lip. “Yes.”
“We are nothing but two people with common needs.” My heart sank. “Common needs?”
“Yes. You are curious. You want to know what drives me, what holds me. I am curious. I want to know how far you are willing to go, what you are willing to do.”
“What I am willing to do?” I echoed. “Do for what?” “To get what you won’t admit that you want.”
“I’ve admitted it,” I told him, sitting up. I hugged my knees. “I admitted it yesterday.”
“Yesterday you wanted to release, Maya. But that was just a physical reflex. It is not what you truly want.”
“Then what do I want?”
He shrugged. “Only you know that.”
I bristled. “You seem to think you do.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I only know what I want.” “Well,” I challenged. “Is it me you want?”
“For now, yes.”
My eyes popped. I was appalled by the answer. We sat in silence again, and I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the morning.
*
“Come,” he said. He led me on a walk across the beach, and I was
surprised when he took my hand. He held it hard, and my heart hammered. I felt foolish for having this reaction, but at the same time, it was somehow affirmation that I wasn’t here for nothing. I knew, in my heart, I could leave when I wanted to. I would simply demand it. All he would do was pit that against what he knew I wanted, and that was not to leave. That was to explore this strange and new tryst until it had run its course.
He took me around a cove, and there I saw a small cabin sitting on stilts above the water. Connecting it to the land was a wooden walkway, made of wide, thin planks. As we walked across it, it did not creak like I had expected it to.
Javier unlocked the door and let me inside. I was wide-eyed at what I saw. A beautifully furnished studio sat before me, with a lush, large bed sitting on top of a glass floor. I saw an octopus nestling between two rocks. “This is where I go to get away,” Javier told me.
“Away from what?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. He guided me to the bed, and without warning pushed me down onto it. I gasped, twisting on the mattress which seemed to align itself perfectly to my form.
“Hey!” I began, but he fell on top of me, pinning me with his body. I smelled his breath on me, sweet from the cocktail we had shared while
sunbathing. He put his hand on my shoulder, and it was calming, and he looked into my eyes. My heart was going a thousand miles an hour. Was this the ‘tomorrow’ he spoke of?
“Play with me,” he whispered, his caressing hand soft, but somehow wicked. I pushed my hips upward to meet him, and with one hand he lifted both of mine above my head, and then with his other hand lifted my right leg so that my foot was on the bed, bent at the knee. He pushed it open, still on me, in between my thighs, and I held my breath, feeling more exposed than ever.
“Let me see you,” he breathed, and I felt his hand go to the tie at the back of my neck, and he loosed the bikini top, folding it down over my stomach, baring my breasts to him. Almost shaking with a mixture of nerves and desire, I still held my breath, the tension in the air thick and viscous around us.
He lifted himself off my body, then, and his fingers went to the ties at the sides of my bottoms. I had tied them tightly, and it was almost as though they were the resistance I could not muster up the conviction to offer. He loosed them, too, peeling away soft fabric, baring me completely to him.
I saw him start to get hard in his trunks. I was frozen on the bed, arms above my head, breasts, and sex open to him, completely exposed. Though I was not restrained in any way, I felt like I couldn’t move. It was his hard stare, soaking up the sight of me, that kept me pinned to the bed.
A cool breeze wafted through the room, and it was like ice on my hot skin. I shuddered, and at that moment he laid a pal on my naked flesh, right at my collarbone. He pressed hard as he dragged his hand down my body, stopping to grab a fistful of my breast before sidling it downward even more, across my belly. I felt the ball of energy in my abdomen growing. Just like that, he was plucking dark strings of desire so deep within me, strings I never knew I had.
His fingers scorched a path down my files and came to rest at my bush.
He pressed hard on my pubic bone, and I squirmed, hovering just on the edges of pleasurable sensation. If only he’d move down a bit lower, I thought. No, I begged.
Javier loosened the string to his trunks, and he pulled it down over his hardness, I gasped when I saw how gifted he was. He stepped out of them, and lowered himself onto me, now no barriers between the two surfaces of our bodies. His weight pressed on me, and his naked body was molten against mine, hot, throbbing, brimming with an energy I had not felt before. I took it in, the feeling of his hard muscles pressed against me, his wide back, his powerful shoulders. His manhood lay between us, stretching from my sex to my belly, a hard rod digging into me.
“Javier,” not certain why. Was I asking him to take me? Was I asking him not to? I couldn’t know. All I could do was search out his lips while he denied them to me, while he pushed my head back and kissed me along my jaw, along my face. Finally, he granted me his lips, and I swallowed them hungrily, wrapping my mouth around his, pushing my tongue into his, tasting him, smelling him, the intimacy spawning within me a furious urgency.
He rolled onto his side, brought me with him, and his hand followed the shape of my body, and he wrapped his palm around my ass, squeezed hard, pulling from my lips a soft moan. And then he went farther, still, and his fingertips brushed up against my sodden sex, and I instinctively punched my hips downward, wanting to just slide his fingers into me, grant me the pleasure I sought.
His fingers plundered me. He kneaded, pinched, stroked, pulled, pushed, and I could only angle myself to grant him more access, lift my thigh to open myself up to him. I felt two of his fingers curl, and slip inside me, and my breathing turned to panting and my moaning turned to begging. He slid them deeper and pushed hard against my front wall, and I relished in that sweet, sensitive moment of pressure, but then he pulled them out, dragging my innermost juices up my womanhood and settling on my pearl. It was a slow rhythm… akin to torture. I was so close… I could explode at any moment, but he was deliberately holding me back. I… I was angry that he did, but damn if I never wanted him to stop.
But he was not yet ready to finish me. He moved away from my pearl, leaving me gasping, and pushed them back inside me, rubbing my front wall, moving his whole hand so that my throbbing bud still received some stimulation. I was in heaven. I was so close. I craved release so much.
It was like a gigantic bomb inside me just waiting to explode. Needing to explode.
He began to jab his fingers into me, fast and hard, and I arched my back and pushed my hips up, adjusting the angle so that he was impacting my front wall. My core grew ever hotter, my desperation to climax overwhelming me, blurring my vision, forcing me to shut my eyes and relish in the feel.
Javier edged me closer and closer to the cliff, brought me back, brought me closer, brought me back. And then he pushed me off, and I soared.
Lightning blinded me as I surged to completion, shrieking as my climax, so intense, so powerful, made me curl my toes so hard they might
cramp, and clench my fists so tight my nails might draw blood. Pleasure pulsed through my every single nerve ending.
And then it was over, waning, like a sunset. Weariness invaded my mind, and panting, sweating, replete, I lay back on the bed, humming my delight, while Javier sucked on his fingers.
“Your come tastes so good,” he told me.
“Oh, God, I needed that,” I mewled, my words slurred. We lay together, him holding me. I fell asleep. And when he woke me with the
sound of the shower, I climbed into it with him, held my body tight against his, and sent my hand to his crotch, holding his manhood.
But he moved it away. “Tomorrow,” he said.
Tomorrow, I thought. Again, tomorrow.