Page 15 of Surfer Girl

It built and grew with every gentle thrust, their sticky labia slithering against each other, their buds caressing like puzzle pieces, dewy and sizzling with desire. When at last the heat was so intense it needed but a match to ignite it, Jessie pressed her weight tenderly but firmly against Sophie’s and sizzle, crack, boom—they came together in a blinding swirl of writhing flesh.

Their lips parted only briefly, to squeal and scream anew. Despite the massive orgasm, Jessie remained wedged in place and had but to move a millimeter left or the slightest glance to the right to send them climaxing all over again.

Nor did she hesitate to do so, Sophie pinned blissfully beneath her, peering up at her rosy nipples, closed eyes, parted lips, and blushing throat as Jessie’s athletic body ground against hers again and again, never less than gentle, always lovingly insistent. Sophie only took her eyes off Jessie when another intense climax forced her to bite down on a squeal and squeeze her eyes shut against the blinding joy. The minute the waves passed, she ogled Jessie hungrily, memorizing every darling freckle and pebbly inch of her taut, erect nipples.

Between feverish kisses and panting thrusts, the sun slowly set on their writhing forms on the creaking leather chair, Jessie as desperate to enjoy ecstasy as she was to give it, time and time again. Sophie lost track of her pleasure and even if she had tried to count, she knew this was not multiple orgasms anyway, but a single giant climax that merely rolled out in waves of shuddering, teeth-chattering bliss.

When at last Jessie raised herself on her trembling arms and gently slid away from Sophie’s pelvis, they were both drenched in sweat and hoarse with desire. Jessie sat on the edge of the old settee, her back to Sophie as she rested a moment before standing and padding, naked and barefoot, into the kitchen.

Without a word, she opened the fridge, rustled around inside, and closed it before returning with an open bottle of wine. Sophie somehow found the strength to pull herself up and lean against the back of the chair, admiring Jessie’s every move.

“Where’s yours?” she teased huskily as Jessie handed her the wine bottle. It was a cheap Chardonnay she’d picked up at the grocery store, mostly because of the surfboard on the label. And, of course, the twist-off top.

“Very funny,” Jessie purred, taking the bottle from Sophie after her first guzzling sip. “I thought we could both use some refreshment after… that.” Jessie sipped eagerly before handing the bottle back and settling onto the other end of the seat cushion. She sat with her right leg hanging over the seat, foot flat on the floor, her other leg pulled up in front of her.

Sophie, beyond shame at this point, beyond herself, sat cross-legged, girls around the campfire style, big as you please. Normally self-conscious about her shape, she felt more than just at ease with Jessie; she felt…at home.

From the dewy look in Jessie’s soft green eyes, she sensed the feeling was mutual. They shared the bottle of wine, back-and-forth, without a glass, without a schedule, without a care, much the same way they’d shared that single can of iced espresso that very morning. The golden sunset had passed by now, bathing the room in shimmering blue light from the moon high above. It caressed Jessie’s alabaster skin and made Sophie powerless to her abundant charms.

“What now?” Sophie asked when it was clear Jessie was the strong, sexy, and silent type. A slow smile curved Jessie’s plump lips as she peered around the humble beach cottage.

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, handing the half empty bottle back to Sophie with a lurid little wink. “I figure we finish this here bottle of wine before I take you in every room of this cozy little cottage. How about them apples?”

Sophie nearly choked on a swallow of wine. Passing the bottle back to Jessie, she said, “Has anyone ever told you, you have a way with words?”

She laughed, figuring Jessie would get the joke. Instead, Jessie peered back at her silently, almost sadly.

“No,” she said at last, her voice low and hoarse, but this time not from desire. “In fact, Sophie, I can’t remember the last time anyone gave me a complement. I can’t even remember the last time someone’s looked at me for anything more than giving me their order or asking for an extra serving of tartar sauce. Until I saw you rushing out onto the back deck this morning, I honestly thought I’d become invisible. Do you ever feel like that?”

Sophie nodded while she collected herself, throat tight with emotion. “Only every day,” she admitted once she could finally speak. “I didn’t want to seem so desperate this morning, Jessie. But it’s been so long since I’ve had a friend that I had to take a chance. Even if you’d run away this morning, even if you’d never come back, I had to try.”

Jessie shook her head, hands flopping up and down in her lap. “Why me? What could possibly have caused you to think I was worth racing around for, let alone striking up a conversation with?”

Sophie shook her head, setting the bottle of wine, nearly empty now, on the windowsill beside her. “Whynotyou?” she croaked, inching closer and closer until they sat knee to knee in the middle of the settee cushion. “Do you not own any mirrors? Have you never seen what a sexy, confident, beautiful surfer girl you are? I could no more have ignored you this morning than I could ignore my next breath.”

Jessie’s eyes grew moist in the dewy moonlight. She shook her head again, as if disbelieving. “No one’s ever said things like that to me before, Sophie. No one’s ever looked at me the way you look at me before. I’ve gone surfing a thousand times, taken a thousand beach showers, wrung my hair out a thousand times and not a single person—guy or girl—has ever looked at me twice. I keep waiting to wake up and realize none of this ever really happened today. That it was all a dream.”

Sophie smirked, reaching down to slide her right hand along Jessie’s long, lean thigh. “Feel that? Is that real enough for you?”

Jessie chuckled, and Sophie got the sense that the blue mood had passed, the time for confession was through, and the two of them—broken, anxious, and fragile—could now start fresh. Jessie yielded beneath her touch, putting her hands out behind her and leaning back to slide her still-damp bush closer to Sophie’s creeping fingertips.

“I can’t tell yet,” she teased, spreading her legs wider still until Sophie could see the glistening folds of her tempting vulva, inviting and pearly and achingly close. “Maybe, if you keep going a little higher, I’ll know this is for real…”

Sophie smirked, taking her time, taking control, feeling Jessie yield to her eager touch. “I know you want to christen every room in the house,” she murmured as she ran her fingers through the silken hair just below her firecracker tattoo. “But I’m kind of fond of this here chair at the moment.”

Jessie nodded, eyes half-lidded and lips gently parted. “Me too,” she said, sliding her foot off the chair so that she sat spread-eagled before Sophie’s hungry, admiring eyes. “I feel like maybe we should stay put for a little while,” she offered, voice going small as her eyelids fluttered open and shut.

Sophie nodded, thumb drifting south of Jessie’s wispy thatch to gently tease her hidden bud. “Like permanently,” she said. Their eyes met, open and clear in the blue moonlight.

“I should go home sometime,” Jessie said, as if convincing herself.

Sophie shook her head, correcting her. “You alreadyarehome, Jessie. You’re not going anywhere.”

As if to prove it, Sophie applied the slightest pressure as the pad of her thumb pressed gently against Jessie’s clit. Jessie sucked air through her teeth and shook her head, as if willing herself not to come.

“You’re wrong about that,” she said, greedily grinding herself against Sophie’s thumb.

“Oh yeah?” Sophie asked.

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