Page 44 of Beach B!tch
16
Brinley
I was rethinking everything.
I didn't want to take it slow and celebrate over the course of four dates.
I wanted it all now.
This specimen of a man was standing in my bedroom, half naked. My apartment seemed to shrink, or maybe he grew, swallowing up all the air in my home. My eyes feasted while the silence lengthened.
A drop of water was still making its way over his collarbone and down his impressive pecs. My mouth went dry and I would have sold all my volleyball trophies just to lick that drop now coasting down his abs. I was no stranger to strong, athletic physiques since I was around bare-chested men every day. But Dean wasn't built like a volleyball player. He was bigger, more muscular. He was lean and tall like they were, but not as slender. Not built for jumping in the sand.
I liked his differences. I liked them very much.
I also loved the tattoo he had on his shoulder. Something dark and tribal that would have screamed masculinity, in an overcompensation way, on any smaller man. My fingers tingled, wanting to run my fingertips over that tattoo, then trail them down his chest following the slight line of hair that disappeared into his shorts. I was an explorer and his body was uncharted territory calling my name.
While Dean had been showering, I'd run around and picked up my room, seeing it with new eyes, knowing this was the first time Dean would sleep in my bed. And then it had hit me.
Dean was showering in my shower.
Right where I'd gotten myself off thinking of him.
And then I was thinking of him in my shower, touchinghimself. Water, soap, steam, hot male.
There was the weirdest feeling in my belly, something I had only felt a few times now, all while in Dean's company. I felt like I was on fire. It felt like I wanted to rip all my clothes off because they were an irritant to my overheated skin. Like I wanted to rub my body along Dean's muscular planes and valleys. Touch and taste and mark as much of his skin as I could get my mouth on.
And then he'd opened the bathroom door, bumping into me, his touch setting off an awareness in every cell of my body.
I wanted it all now.
I looked back up to Dean's face, his eyes hot on mine, calmly letting me take him all in.
"Wanna take a picture, sweetheart?" Dean said, a knowing smirk creeping onto his face.
I paid no mind to his teasing. I was finally ready to take what I wanted. I knew Dean desired and cared for me. I felt worthy of his affection. If I didn't want to be a virgin anymore, it was up to me to resolve that, not Dean. Yes, of course, he was a necessary part of the equation, but it was up to me to change my life. Time to take the bull by the horn. Or was it the man by the cock?
"No. I wanna taste," I replied. I grabbed his shorts and pulled him into me. I got my face right into the crook of his neck, my height placing me perfectly where I wanted to start. I kissed his neck, then opened my mouth and darted out my tongue, tasting his clean, warm skin. I felt, more than heard, Dean's groan. His hands grabbed hold of my hips, probably to hold me to him. But that wasn't how this would go down. I knocked his hands away and placed them back at his sides, a silent command to keep them there.
I trailed my mouth down his chest, circling each nipple, tasting as I went. I traced his six-pack abs with my tongue, enjoying the way his breathing picked up and how he clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides.
Then I knelt down on the carpet, my mouth still on his stomach, my hands holding onto the waist of his shorts.
"Brin, baby. What are you doing?" Dean was breathing hard now, his words wrenched from between his clenched jaw.
"I'm doing what I want. I want to give you a blow job and you're going to teach me."
Dean
What the hell had happened when I was in that shower? Where did my serious, no-time-for-anything-but-volleyball Brinley go? Before I even knew what was happening, Brin was on her knees, her mouth on my hip and her hands yanked down my shorts with one swift pull. My cock sprang out and bopped her on the nose, just as startled as I was by its sudden appearance.
She jumped back in surprise, and I would have laughed if my mouth hadn't gone dry and my brain wasn't completely scrambled by the sight in front of me. I had a split-second to see the determination return to her eyes before she leaned back in, grabbed the base of my cock with a firm grip, and opened her mouth.
Her tongue was warm and wet and wonderful. She licked the head like she'd discovered the best ice cream cone in Huntington Beach. Then she took the first few inches into her mouth, flicking the head with her tongue as I glided back out. My hands flew to her head, gripping her hair tight but careful to let her move as she pleased as she set an agonizingly slow pace.
She was going to kill me.
I should have known the same determination, drive, and focus she showed on the volleyball court would overlap in other areas of her life. And luckily for me, giving head was one of them.
