AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Seemingly satisfied with counting the upper rooms, she lowers her attention to the first floor, to my room, or rather the space outside of my room.
She hasn’t noticed me since I’ve retreated further, hanging near the edge. I’m fascinated by her, and desperately trying to think of something clever to say. All that comes to mind is,Surely you can spare this pair of panties.
Better to keep that to myself. I’m reclusive, not a perv. Although the panties in my pocket call that into question.
The first floor is elevated a few feet above the beach and the dune grasses offer a buffer above that, obscuring my line of sight as she approaches.
Then suddenly she’s crawling on the dune toward my deck, and my suspicions are confirmed. I chuckle quietly with the knowledge that this beauty’s pussy has been in the panties I’m harboring.
I feel guilty for keeping them, but what am I supposed to do? Wave them in the air and say,Are these yours?
It’s a sad fucking day when I decide that I’m even more set on keeping the panties now that I see who they belong to. My dark heart needs a glimmer of hope. She can give up a pair of panties for the team. I’ve given up years for my country.
The woman extends a hand forward, parting the grasses at the edge of my deck, and mutters something I can’t make out. But it’s damn cute.
I’m torn. Offering her panties seems like the right thing to do, but I love the idea of considering them a sacrifice. I make sacrifices all the time in service to the country. No hype, no news stories, just confidential missions. That helps me feel slightly less selfish about what I’m choosing to do.
I step outside. “Can I help you?”
“Oh! Sorry!” Her head pops above the grasses like a meerkat. She grips the top of the rail and stares up at me.
Am I so in need of a woman that I can’t focus on the moment at hand? All I can think about are her manicured fingernails gripping my cock while her plump red lips drag back and forth over it.
She wipes wisps of hair from her face as she stands, struggling to keep her robe closed. My pulse is pounding in my ears.
“Perhaps you can help me.” She points up. “I’m on the third floor and the wind blew my panties down. I saw them right about here, but now they’re gone.”
My fist tightens around her panties as realization sets in. She could be one of the brides getting married here, which would mean I’m holding a married, or soon-to-be-married woman’s panties. Fuck!
“Wait… Are my panties in your pocket?”
“No,” I answer too quickly and immediately realize I’m gripping them so hard, my forearm is in pain. I relax my fist and glance down. Shit! Red lace is sticking out. I yank it down, hoping she didn’t see it.
Too late. “What the hell is wrong with you? Give them back.” She thrusts her hand at me.
I’m not only trained to perform under pressure, but I’ve spent years face to face with national threats, never once losing composure. But staring at this ray of sunshine who has enough energy to make up for her small size, I’m incapacitated.
It’s terrifying.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know what you plan to do with them. Enjoy.” She turns around, scurries off the dune, and marches down the beach, leaving me to wonder what just happened.
I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t turn me in to security.
Five
Taz
Yesterday, my brothers and I were ready to kick back and have a BBQ with Dad at our mountain home in the Cherry Ridge foothills. Today, we’re standing on the beach on a private island, lined up as groomsmen for our dad’s wedding.
I’m at a loss for how a lifelong commitment can transpire this fast.
We haven’t had time to talk to him about the woman he’s marrying since we had to scatter grandma’s ashes, pack, and get on an airplane. Plus, he didn’t want us trying to talk him out of the first seemingly irrational thing he’s ever done.
He arranged a brief meeting with his fiancée, and she seems great, but we haven’t met our future stepsister. She was busymaking some kind of special treat for her mom. That’s cool, I suppose. Does that mean we should be doing something for Dad? Nah.
That seems like girly shit anyway, and Dad’s entire focus is on his future bride. This is the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. Mom got sick and died when I was little. I have very little memory of her. My older brothers remember more, but that was ages ago, and he’s been single for way too long. We’re all glad to see him happy again.
A small band plays reggae versions of wedding music. It’s an intimate affair since no one else is invited. And at our stepmom’s request, we’re all in beachwear. One point to her. I’ll take boardshorts over a penguin suit any day. Of course, riding gear is my preference when I’m not on a mission.
