Paulette Smalls - Come and get it!

"Are you always so rude?" she asked.

"Huh? What do you – oh!" The man shook his head vigorously from side to aide, looking deeply embarrassed. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that for you. I mean, I did, but not the way – oh, shit. I mean…" He sighed. "Oh, the hell with it."

By the time he finished floundering around, Val was close to laughter. "Whatever are you talking about?" she asked, trying to suppress the giggle in her voice.

He shrugged majestically, his broad, bronzed shoulders heaving high, and he slumped down, crumpling into the sand on his knees, half sitting on Val's blanket. Resting his hands on his closed, muscular thighs, his sparkling blue eyes were downcast and abject. Tanned all over his trim, athletic frame, his taut flesh was the color of deep, rich wood. Except for his eyes, and the crimson boldness of his brief bathing suit, he was solid brown, right up to his sun bleached, platinum white hair. He wore it in a loose shag, limp with wetness, glistening as the sunlight caught in the tiny droplets of ocean water. The first thing Val noticed about him was that he was breathtakingly handsome. The next thing she noticed was the long, thick lump his tightly fitting bathing suit accented.

"I've really made a botch of this," he said, shaking his head, not daring to confront Val with his half-lidded eyes. "I feel like a fool."

"What about?" Val asked, intrigued. There was a flutter in the pit of her stomach, the kind of flutter she remembered getting when she was a girl in high school, and a kind of suppressed giggling excitement. She tried to remember how to act; it seemed so long ago, part of another life. "What is it that you are trying so hard to say."

"God, I feel like a rank amateur. Worse. I feel like a teenager." He sighed again, shrugged, and exhaled.

"Well?"

"Believe it or not…" – he tilted his head to the side like a puppy dog, grinning dumbly, squinting – "… I was trying to pick you up."

Val's cunt lips quivered. "I had that feeling. But I couldn't quite follow your technique. I kept wondering what you were doing. What were you doing, by the way?"

He settled himself onto the blanket, as if staking a claim. Sitting with his legs crossed, probably sitting that way on purpose, Val was very much aware of how thick and long his cock seemed in that tiny bathing suit he was stuffed into. Although she couldn't be sure, she didn't think he had a hard-on yet, which was very encouraging. Her tall, handsome visitor was very well hung.

"I was trying to think of a way of speaking to you," he confessed. "You know, trying to find something to say to you. Some excuse or reason to come over here."

"And?"

He looked up, flashing her a dazzling white grin. "The first thing I thought of was the suntan lotion. I figured I could come over here and ask to borrow your suntan lotion. I had it all figured out what I was going to say to you – and then what you'd say to me – and then what I'd say back… and so on. I had it all rehearsed. And – let me tell you – some of it was very clever and witty."

"The mistake I made, however – and it was only a small one – was that I hadn't planned on what I'd say if you said you didn't have any suntan lotion. I hadn't even thought about that. I figured everybody brought suntan lotion to the beach, especially in Miami. So, when you said no, I had absolutely nothing to say back. I was dumb-founded. I had this great – brilliant, in fact! – line all prepared… and you went and fucked it up for me." He shrugged. "So I said shit."

Pleased, Val smiled. "I see."

He looked up at her, a look of perplexity lining his handsome face. "How come you didn't bring the suntan lotion?"

Val blushed. "I forgot."

"Jesus."

Val parried, already deeply into their unspoken boy-girl game. "You should talk. Not even a back-up plan. How confident you must be."

"Ah, but there you're wrong." He wiggled his index finger at her, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, the grin across his lips full of self-congratulatory mirth. "I did have a contingency plan."

"Oh?"

"Yup."

Val shifted, stretching her leg out in front of her. The crotch of her bathing suit was soaked through, uncomfortable against her flesh, the material pushed up in between the lips of her cunt. She wanted to fix it, to pull it out, but she dared not touch herself there. Not yet, anyhow.

"Well, what was it?" she asked.

"We're doing it now."

"What?"

"My back-up plan was to tell you I had no back-up plan." He was grinning from ear to ear, obviously very proud of himself. "Sounds dumb, I know. But it works. We've been talking now for almost five minutes. Guess you can say it worked, huh?"

Val broke into laughter, despite her attempts at control. "You tricked me!"

He shrugged. "What am I gonna do, right? You think I'm going to let a lovely young thing like you get away from me? No way. I knew we had to talk about something, so…"

Lovely young thing. The compliment made Val's cunt tingle. "Thank you."

"Huh?"

Val shook her head. "Nothing."

He smiled at her. "So?"

"So what?"

"So are you picked up?"

Val thought for a moment, looking at his thick muscular arms, his classically handsome face, and at the enormous surprise his tiny bikini bathing suit promised. She didn't once think about her husband. As far as Doug was concerned, he didn't even exist anymore.

"Yes, I guess I am."

"Good. What's your name?"

"Val. What's yours?"

"Barney. Barney Gordon."

Val shifted her position on the blanket, wondering what would come next, excited beyond belief at the range of possibilities. One of them, logically the least probable, could easily materialize if she had the courage to make it do so. Ironically, it was the one she desired most, and that, more than anything, made her burn with lust. Could she do it? she wondered. Could she say the words?

"Well," Val asked, smiling leisurely, soaking in the sun, a quaking, agitated mass of jelly inside, "what happens now?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On a lot of things."

"Such as?"

"Are you free for dinner this evening?"

"Yes."

"That's one of them."

"And?" The game was driving her mad, and Val twisted the blanket tightly in her hands. Why couldn't she say it?

"And are you free… after dinner?" Barney grinned self-consciously, wondering if he'd overstepped that very fine line in the delicate game they were engaged in. But she seemed so eager!

"Yes," Val said, her throat tight, her palms sweaty. She managed a smile. "In fact, I'm… free right now."

Barney sighed. "In that case, we can go to my room. If you don't mind."

Val was so aroused, she felt literally on the brink of orgasm. She had forgotten, completely forgotten, how much more to sex there was than fucking. She loved it, every instant of it, and she devoured it with ravenous appetite. The blood pounded in her temples, and her entire body tingled with anticipation.

"No," she said; playing her trump card. The flicker of uncertainty which rippled across Barney's face made her asshole tighten and her cunt catch and release. Val licked her tongue around her grinning lips. "We can go to my room. It's closer."

The game was over.

"Oh… I'm coming!" Val moaned. "Oh… oh… I'm coming again… again… oh ohhhh!"

Barney, the expert professional stud that he was, had already made Val come three times, and he hadn't even taken his cock out of his bathing suit yet. He had his technique down to a science: soften them up with a good pussy licking, make them come three or four times, then whip it out, all hard and thick, ready to fuck. By then, most of them were out of their minds with lewdness. And, after he'd fucked them, and made them come a few more times, they were always incredibly grateful… and generous.