Kristine Lynn
18 mins read
Published about 1 year ago

The sun burned my skin, branded it. So did his gaze. Sure, his delectable baby blues were hidden behind aviator shades, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel it. 

A chill raced across my skin, cooling it even as the heat from the August sun blazed. His gaze was as powerful as actual fingers, trailing over my exposed flesh every time I walked, reapplied sunscreen, snacked on grapes. Those were a purposeful tease, brought to tempt him into wishing it was his fingers, his toes I sucked on. It worked, too. 

He licked his lips when I swirled my tongue along the firm skin of the grape, showing off skills I knew he wanted to test. 


It was inevitable, a dance we’d been engaged in since the first day of CPR training. He’d offered to be my partner for the mouth-to-mouth, his breath hot on my shoulder in the break room. He tried to hide his half-mast behind the thin fabric of his red board shorts with the white cross emblazoned across his mid-thigh, but it was futile. I saw what he had to offer and I wanted it then, even when his smile faded along with his erection at the sight of the mannequins the higher-ups brought in. 

Still, the dance began. And I was a willing partner. 

I crossed my legs, grabbed the lotion from my bag and lathered up, running my hands over a fresh wax. I spent time making sure my fingers slipped just beneath the hemline of my one-piece suit along my thigh, then again along the top of my chest. 

I peered over the top of my D&G sunglasses and watched his chest expand, deflate. He ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair, licked his lips. As bait, it was a pretty weak gesture on my part, but it worked. I caught his sharp intake of breath as I bent to apply lotion to the tips of my toes, exposing what little cleavage the modest suit would allow. He was mine, hook, line, and sinker. 

The only problem was her. The girlfriend, the hanger-on, the mousy-blonde who brought him attention in the form of a brown paper bag filled with inedible contents every day. Her eyes told a different story than his. Jealousy. Hatred. 

Ha! If she only had a clue how his hand had felt on my hip at the staff meeting the week before, when all of us were smashed together in the office like sardines. His thumb had rubbed along my suit line, making me wet without even needing to dip into the chlorinated office we called our second home. She’d throw daggers with her eyes if she’d seen that. 

When she looked at him, though, it was nothing but sad puppy love that remained unrequited. He never kissed her at work, didn’t even let her hold his hand. It was sad, really. Water filled the bottom lid of her eyes and I swear she looked just like my dad’s labradoodle when she left, the brown bag lunch she gave him, sappy note and all, already in the trash bin, unopened.

I didn’t care much either way, so long as she realized he was just an end-of-the-semester crush that had lingered a little longer than he wanted. 

He’d said as much in the breakroom, his eyes on my tits, his lips wet with desire. 

She needed to be gone so I could get what I wanted. His hands where his slutty gaze fell every time we were alone. His half-hard cock at full-mast and available for me to suck off. His ass bared naked for me to graze my teeth across. 

I shuddered as a chill tickled my skin.

Maybe she didn’t need to leave, after all. Hell, let her share his bed at night. I just wanted his sun-kissed body. Now to make him see that I wasn’t just a possibility, but an inevitability. Dangle the lure a little closer.

When Mattie showed up to take over my chair, I made every gesture take a half-beat longer than it should have. On my tiptoes, grabbing my bag. Bending down, knees straight, ass facing his chair to snatch up my water jug. Trailing my hand over my breasts to secure the flotation device across my chest. 

Upping the ante, I made my way to his chair to relieve him for his break, sauntering with hips swaying with both promise and delivery. The fifteen minutes that followed would pass in a rare state of calm; my legs could relax, my pussy would unclench because he would be out of sight, the temptation removed temporarily. But I only had the next thirty seconds to let him know that our time was now. 

Tonight, after work. 

“Heard you’ve been bragging about your mile swim again, Hutch.” 

Hutchinson. What a hot fucking name to go with the body it belonged to. I crossed my arms over my chest, pushed my full breasts up a notch, waiting for his response. 

“What about it, Ash?” 

A less-sexy nickname for Ashley than I’d have preferred, but rolling off his tongue, it sounded like sex itself. That same tongue traced his lips, then disappeared behind a perfect row of white teeth. When he bit his bottom lip, I had to cross my legs to keep the moisture building there from running down my leg. 

“Well, you’ve never done so much as take a dip between shifts," I said. "So frankly, I’m not sure I’m buying it anymore.”

He jumped down from the chair rather than using the ladder. His biceps curled, strong as fuck. Taut thighs that bounced when his feet connected with the rough pool decking and my breasts ached with need for his wickedly hard body to press up against them. They were mutinous, reacting before I was ready for them to join the party. 

“What’ll it take for you to believe me, Ashley?” 

His face was close enough that his breath was warm as the day against my cheek. Still, it sent chills down my spine. 

“I was thinking a race. It’s the only way to prove who is the fastest here.”

He laughed, and damn if my pussy didn’t shudder with desire at the sound. It was throaty, all sex and no play. 

Christ, this man is sin incarnate. 

“You’re on,” he whispered. 

He extended his hand, wrapped it in mine, brought it to his lips. He sucked my skin into his mouth, teasing it with a nibble that was invisible to everyone else. 

Yeah, we'll fuck tonight. 

Of that much I was certain. I took my hand back, branded now with his moisture. I barely resisted the temptation to lick the back of my hand where it had been inside his mouth, just to taste him. That would happen soon enough. 

I leapt into the chair, pulling myself up with the upper body I’d earned after half a summer of swimming laps after work. Tonight would be my reward for all that exercise. 

Just as he was almost out of earshot, he called back. “I’ll let the rest of ‘em know. I’m taking you on tonight.” 

He winked, but it fell flat at my feet. My chest constricted, my shoulders fell. 

He wants the whole staff there to watch? 

Well, that took the fun out of the skinny-dipping I’d envisioned. Had he completely misread the huskiness in my voice, my hand on his arm? 


I sighed, put my glasses back on and let my eyes fall to the water. Kids with operatic screams splashed each other in the corner of the pool while fleshy mothers watched from behind seedy novels they could only get away with under the hot sun of summer. A water aerobics class in the middle of the water bookended the circle of life that was on full display every day until September. There, grandmothers and the odd grandfather who was roped in against his will, bobbed and danced their way to believing they were closer to avoiding death.

It was a laughless scene, one that showed the hopelessness that existed outside the world of sex, of pleasure, of pursuit of that pleasure at the expense of all else. At the expense of an early watery grave, the expense of a mortgage, the expense of a brood of ungrateful offspring that threatened to remove anything resembling pleasure for the people who brought them into the world.

It wasn’t for me, any of it. I wanted hands on my hips, cock behind me, hard and ready to make me cum. I wanted to be tasted from toe to tits with an eager tongue, and fuck the rest of society’s frills and shackles. I wanted to be fucked, plain and simple. Who knew if desire for any more than that would ever come, but right now, kids and picket fences and open floor plans were the last thing on my mind. 

First was figuring out how to make my desires more explicitly known with Hutch so we could get to the good stuff. 

The fifteen minutes of his break passed quicker than I thought they would. My mind was in full-out battle with itself. Should I try harder or back off and wait for Hutch to dump the mouse? Should I tell him something came up and let him show off his fragile masculinity to the other guards that evening while I dipped my bait into other waters? 

When he came back out, the sun reflecting off his soft, brown skin, my mind shut up. 


He sat across from me, his legs spread so I had a front-row view of what he would offer my aching pussy if he ever got out of his own way beneath his shorts. 

He smiled, crooked a finger at me as I slid off my chair and made my way to the break room. I obliged, walked up to him with the same sway of my hips as before, this time with some bounce in my step so my breasts were on full display. 

“Yes?” I asked. My voice trembled with aching need. Fuck me, I wanted to tell him. Fuck me until neither of us can stand

He just smiled and handed down a note. I took it, slipped it in my bag and sashayed off to take a much-needed break from the relentless sun and swimmers.

Once my eyes adjusted to the dull glow of the fluorescent lights, I pulled the thin slip of paper from its hiding place and opened it. 

If I win tonight, I want you as my prize. Naked, up against the fence, me inside you. If you win, you can claim me any way you want. If you accept these terms, meet me after work by the lap lanes.

No one else, just us. 

Okay, so he’d gotten the message loud and clear. So had the space between my legs, which flooded with moisture. I’d wanted to win, to prove to Hutch I could dominate him in every way possible before, but now, the stakes were at an all-time high. 

Either way, I couldn’t lose. I’d claim his cock tonight, make it my own, untame it so that it could be wild again. I’d give it pleasure unlike it had ever known. 

My last obstacle would be making sure the rest of the staff didn’t stick around for the race. When I won, my victory dance would be for Hutch’s eyes only. 

When I relieved him an hour later for his next break, he slid a hand down the outside of my arm, goosebumps following in its wake. 

“I can’t wait to see you tonight. You’d better be prepared for what happens if you lose.” 

That, I was more than prepared for. In fact, it was all I could think about on my last rotation. His hands around my waist, his stomach against my back, his hard cock slipping between my folds. Once the staff he’d invited to our tryst left, of course. 

“That’s not happening with an audience.”

“No audience. Didn’t you read the note? Inviting them was a tease. There’s no way I want anyone watching what I do to you.” He winked again, then left me alone for fifteen minutes of exquisite torture. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. One teenager who’d slipped and sprained her wrist on the bathroom floor, three kids pulled out for pushing each other’s heads underwater, then three and a half excruciating hours until the pool closed and I was left alone with Hutch.  

I offered to close up for Mattie, who kissed me on the cheek and tossed the manager’s keys at me as she all but sprinted to the parking lot. Everyone else changed back into street clothes and followed suit. 


I walked to the edge of the lap lane, tossed a towel on the deck and dipped my toes in the water. It was warm, like liquid sun, so I sat and submerged my legs. I don’t know how long I sat there, trailing circles in the water with my feet. The heat of the day gradually slipped away and the air cooled around my exposed skin. 

Then, warm hands were on my shoulders, strong and broad. I leaned back into the bare legs behind me, rested my head against them. 

“Hi, there.”

Hutch came and sat beside me, put an arm around my waist. I nuzzled my head in the crook of his shoulder. 

“It’s about time. I was beginning to think you chickened out.”

“Never. Not when the prize is this good.” I looked up to his gaze appraising my body, covered only by my work suit. Though I wore it every day, considered it restricting and frankly, too old-fashioned, in that moment it felt like I was naked. 

“Let’s get started, then.”

I slipped into the water, let my head fall beneath the surface. It was warm, inviting, though not near as refreshing as it was in the mornings, before the sun and sunbathers polluted it. 

Hands circled my waist, turned me around. Hutch’s face, his lips, were inches from mine. I no longer cared who won the race, whose ego was stroked, so long as I could run my hands over the fine body in front of mine. 

“May I kiss you?” he asked. 

Fuck, yes. And more, please.

“Only if you have plans to do more than that.”

No words were needed as his mouth closed over mine, hungry and just as eager as I’d imagined. His tongue slid along my lips, and liquid poured out of me, joined the fluids surrounding us. 

He pulled my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbled on it. I cried out, the pleasure building in my chest, migrating south to where his hands found the edge of my suit. Two fingers slipped between the lining of my suit and slid inside me. He thrust in and out of me, faster with each penetration. 

My back hit the pool wall, giving Hutch purchase to fuck me harder. I arched into him, purred. I fumbled with the tie on his suit until I freed his cock. He shimmied out of the board shorts and buried his mouth in my neck. His tongue traced my collarbone, moved up my neck. My sex ached when his fingers left it to the chill of the water, but when he pulled off my suit, using his foot to finish the job, I couldn’t complain. 

“Fuck,” I whispered against his cheek. “I want you to fuck me.” To emphasize my point, I wrapped my hand around Hutch’s shaft, caressed the tip with my thumb while I moved my hand up and down his length. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Hutch picked me up, set me on the edge of the pool and spread my legs until I was stretched before him. The air was cool on my water-dappled skin, but I was warm, the fire inside me blazing. 

The look in his eyes was devilish, mischief and mayhem etched in them. My stomach flipped when he winked, closed his mouth over me. 

I gripped the edge of the pool, my thighs trembling. God, this man knew what to do with his tongue. He sucked at my clit, his teeth grazing it, then pulled my folds into his mouth, licking the length of each one until he settled in my center. Using his tongue to fuck me wasn’t what I had in mind, but it was better, more satisfying watching the man move inside me, his head bobbing in and out from between my legs. 

Without warning, he shot up and out of the pool, water raining down on me. 

“Stand up,” he ordered. He’d done nothing to earn the right to command me -- we hadn’t even made it ten yards down the pool -- but I obeyed. I stood on the wet deck, and when he twirled his finger, a silent instruction to turn around, I did. There was something so hot about being ordered around by a naked man, especially when it was all I’d been craving for weeks.

“To the fence,” he said. I nodded and made my way to the chain link that looked out over the field behind the community pool. “Hands above your head.” 

My whole body shook with desire. 

“Are you cold?” he asked. That he cared only added to the allure. I shook my head. 

“No. I just want you.”

“Then hands above your head.” This time, I obeyed, placed both hands above my head, the metal of the fence pressing against my breasts, imprinting me. 

He tied my suit around my wrists loose enough for me to break free if I wanted, but that wasn’t an option. Not yet. I wanted to see where this was going. 

Hutch spread my legs again, this time only enough so that his cock, hard and long enough to span my opening, settled against me. 

Christ, he felt good. 

“I need to hear you tell me you want this.” 

I wanted to be taken hard against the fence, wanted him to take control, but damn if him wanting my consent wasn’t sexy as hell. 

“I want this.” To emphasize exactly what it was I was talking about, I cocked my hips back, rubbed my slickness over his shaft. “I want it all.”

He growled his approval and then I felt his tip teasing my entrance. I couldn’t guide him in because my hands were tied, but he found his way, shoving his girth inside me with a powerful thrust. 

Holy. Hell. 

He was thick, filled my depths, ran along each of my walls. He left nothing to be desired. With him ramming against me, I felt the place along my chest where the fence would leave a mark. It would be a reminder tomorrow that going for what I wanted was always a good thing. 

He rode me faster and harder with each thrust. His hands wrapped around me, cupped my bouncing breasts. When he flicked my nipples, twisted them in his fingers, I purred like a kitten. This. This was perfect. Hot as hell and perfect.

“More," I cried out. "Harder.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his breath hot on my shoulder. He sank his teeth into my muscle and a cry of satisfaction escaped my chest. With that, he slammed into me, the noise of flesh against flesh shoving out the memories of the shrieks and screams of the day. I bent down as far as my bound arms would allow, letting him in deeper. God, he felt made to fit inside my expanse, made to answer my desire with his own. 

His breaths came in short bursts, machine-gun fire filled with passion. 

He was close. 

So was I. So close I could feel the wave of an orgasm rolling, building until it crested over me. 

“Yes! Fuck yes.” 

His legs trembled, shaking my ass that was still an extension of him. Finally, he collapsed against my back, his skin warm and damp. 

“God, Ashley. You’re fucking incredible.”

I laughed. He hadn’t seen the half of it. I had plans for him that were going to blow his mind if he thought this appetizer was the best we could do. He undid my tie and my hands fell to my sides, blood rushing back to the tips. I used the free hand to pull Hutch by the hips into me, leaned back against the fence to support our weight. I wanted him close. 

“We still haven’t decided who’s fastest, you know.” 

I cupped his balls, squeezed lightly. His groan washed over me like another orgasm. I’d done what I wanted, claimed my prize whether I’d earned it or not. But I wasn’t done.

He bent down and closed his mouth over my breast. 

“We can always try again tomorrow.” He flicked my nipple with his tongue, teased it hard again. “In fact, I see quite a few races in our future. Or attempts at them, anyway.” My back arched against his mouth and a feral purr escaped my lips. 

I didn’t know about a future, but the idea of a repeat performance the next shift sat well with my still-aching pussy, my full, hard breasts. But I wasn’t willing to wait for it. I slid to the right so my other breast could join in the fun. 

“I could agree to that.” I stepped back and spread my legs. 

Future or not, the rest of my night was looking pretty good.

More by Kristine Lynn:

Stood Up

Written by
Kristine Lynn

Kristine is a university English instructor by day, and a romance/erotica author by night. Her first erotic romance novel is due out in December, and in the meantime, she spends every free minute exploring her own writing and sexual limitations, as well as concocting happily-ever-afters for other strong, fierce women.