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I open my mouth to say something and he covers it with his own before I can speak. I give into the kiss, letting him thrust his tongue around and force mine into submission. Will does everything roughly. I like it that way. No tender interludes to fuck up the memories or egg on the guilt.
His fingers dig into my top and pinch my nipples. The pleasure and pain dance along my nerve endings, pooling in my groin. A fiery pulse starts in my cunt because in my mind I can see his cock. I remember yesterday. The frantic coupling in a field of sea oats and the pulse ratchets up to a thumping that is maddening.
I grab at his low slung short, push at the waistband. When I find the hard smooth flesh of his cock I stroke it. He is hot in my hands. Not hot from the sun but from blood flow and want. He breaks the kiss and bites along my throat, not hard enough to leave any marks but hard enough that he knows I will grow wet enough for him to be harsh with me.
My back scrapes against the rough wood and it flashes through my mind that someone might walk up on us. See us. Know we are here. And then that thought fades because his blunt fingers worm down into my bottoms to find the humid heat they seek. He slides two fingers into my pussy and I moan against his shoulder. He adds a third and I bite him. Hard. He doesn’t care. No one will question him later. He is single. That much I know.
‘Help me, Jill,’ he growls in my ear because the damn nylon is sticking to my skin and creating a resistance. I help him but my mouth hasn’t stopped on his shoulder. He tastes like coconut lotion and sun and salt on my tongue.
Then there we are. My bottoms slung right below my ass cheeks. That part of me stark white against the brown skin kissed by the sun. His shorts are down around his knees. He kicks them to the side and on his way to standing straight, yanks my bottoms all the way down. I step out of them.