He could swear he was the only one sober. He knew for certain he was the only one who hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. Claire's head was somewhat lazily resting against his chest at their spot by the fire. He couldn't name any of the people here, but they were important to Claire so he'd accepted her invitation to join her. He was currently mindful of the fact that her hand was sliding higher and higher along his leg. His eyes fell closed as she found what she was evidently searching for.
"Hi there," she said, leaning up to kiss him. She giggled softly at his soft groan, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. He deepened the kiss, unable to resist her, tipsy or not. "So warm," she murmured against his ear before kissing it.
"Claire. Are you sure you want to be doing this here?"
There was that giggle again. His breath hitched when he felt not just her mouth at his ear but droplets of cool water against his chest, still bare after an afternoon of volleyball. The water was courtesy of the cup she held in her free hand.
"You like that?" As if she didn't know. There was very little she could do he would object to or be offended by. She pulled away from him then, taking another sip of her drink and slunk down circling his nipple not with her mouth or tongue but with an ice cube.
Unexpected, he cried out, grabbing the back of her head as the hand in his lap busily worked his fly open. His eyes fell closed when she brought the ice cube to his other nipple, circling that one, too. And then, "oh God," he murmured as she trailed the ice cube even lower.
He looked now, taking in her appearance, the wicked smile and matching glean in her eyes. And then his eyes settled on the fire they were only a short distance away from. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. When she wrapped her hand around his hardening shaft he wasn't sure he even cared at that point.
She released him for a moment, reached into her cup and pulled out another ice cube. He shuddered instinctively when he saw her reach for his erection, ice cube in hand. "Claire," he murmured, wondering where in the world this idea was coming from. She touched him then and he just about vaulted off the sand.
"The things you do to me," he whispered.
"That's the point." She brought her mouth to his ear, kissing it again. Her hand stroking him. "Do you know how good you feel in my hand? How close I come to getting off just feeling you get hard from my touch?"
"No," he said, not sure she was really looking for a response.
"To think someone might look over here and see us, be envious of what I have access to." She circled his ear with her tongue, following that with a puff of breath in his ear. "You can't fuck me here, but you can fuck my hand."
"Claire." He couldn't possibly have heard her right.
"How is it any different then when I watch you on my computer?"
There was a visual, reminding him of it did the trick. He remembered the first time they'd used their computers for that. She'd gone first, letting him see her stroking herself, crying out his name even though he was not there to fulfill her need.
"It's just you watching."
"As if you have anything to be ashamed of," she whispered, kissing his neck on the one spot that always seemed to get him every time. "Just close your eyes and pretend we're in my bed. I've tied you up so you can't touch me back."
"Uh huh," he murmured, able to picture that quite well.
Beads of condensation dripped onto his chest and he cried out again. "Keep them closed," she whispered, apparently able to sense he was going to look at her again. She dripped more on his erection, not that he needed any lubricant he was quite ready in that department already thanks to her attention. And her talking.
"Remember the first time I went down on you?"
How could he forget?
"You tried to stop me then, too. But it was so fun."
Was he still arguing with her? He wasn't sure. Back to his ear, kissing and sucking on it. "This will be fun, too. And then I'll get to lick my hand clean after. It's been a while I bet there'll be lots to clean off."
She had no idea. With her finals and everything else it had been weeks.
There was a pop and a hiss, causing him to open his eyes.
"Just the fire," she murmured. "Probably a damp log."
"Why couldn't you have worn a skirt," he whispered, dragging her face to his so he could kiss her. He moved his body in time with her hand. It wasn't easy for him to finish like this, but it was arousing as hell to have her wanting to do this to begin with. Here.
He didn't need to hear her words. He had pictures, many of them in his mind of things they'd done and things they'd yet to do. Her giving him a hand job on the beach had not been one of them, but as she squeezed him the way he liked he was willing to add this one to his list of things to repeat.
"You know what would be fun," she broke the kiss and whispered in his ear again.
He said nothing, not sure he could speak just now anyway.
"Drizzling some warm, melted chocolate all over you and licking it off."
He groaned softly. "I will buy some."
He felt her smile against his ear. "I thought you might say that. Too bad we're not making smore's tonight. It could be fun. And you'd taste even yummier than usual. And since it's dark I wouldn't be able to tell where the chocolate left off so I'd just have to lick every last inch of you."
She must have been able to tell by his breathing that he was close, because she shifted just a little. Enough so that she could fish his erection out of his pants for him to finish without anyone seeing too much. And then she leaned over, setting her head in his lap, timing it perfectly with his release.
"That was," he whispered.
"Yeah, I liked it, too," she said softly, resting her cheek against his stomach. "I'll bet you're glad you came with me now."
He chuckled, running fingers through her hair slightly stiff from a long day in the sun and water. "Yes, no regrets now."
~The End~
Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com