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“If I am, then you must be making me do this.”
Cy reached forward, cupped an ass cheek in each hand to spread them apart, and thumb-stroked both sides of her labia as they slapped around his length.
Holy mother of balls that feels good, Trixie thought, unable to think straight for a moment. I hypnotized the right fucking masseuse.
Cy sat up again and brought Trixie's back against his chest. He swung his legs around under him and placed her in his lap, still facing away. She shifted to crouch on the balls of her feet. Cy grabbed Trixie’s waist and together they bounced her up and down on his stabbing erection.
He was long, made all the more obvious in this position as Cy collided against the back of her sheathe. The repeated sting was enough to encourage a slow building explosion. The pain was incidental compared to the shocks of pleasure that discharged up her depths, beckoning Trixie to release again. Each thrust pushed her that much closer to spilling over. She was teetering on the edge of her biggest release. It could go either way at this point, that is... until Cy clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
Trixie’s eyes went wide as every muscle in her cunt quivered. Unable to moan out loud, the momentum of her orgasm had to go somewhere. Cy’s timing had been unintentionally perfect. How dare he steal her voice, she thought, and yet, how amazing at the same time! Her nethers swelled and gushed thick pulsing waves of honey, instantly coating his shank and both sacks.
There was no stopping now. She continued spurting watery streams as Cy muffled her screams, bursting out around his prick. Cy strengthened his grip, which only intensified her release. The backlash was too much and didn't stop coming for Trixie. She felt light headed. The world lurched and momentarily slipped away. She was gone.
Trixie regained herself, pounding up and down on his cock, an automated slave to her own self-serving desires. She barely noticed that her legs were on fire, still straddling Cy while holding herself in a squatting position the whole time. When the pain finally caught up to her brain, she slumped against his chest. Cy released his hand from her mouth and Trixie slid down his knees onto the ground until she was staring up at him past his saluting erection. She was utterly spent.
Cy was looking off towards the pebble beach where their kayak was tied up. He was still distracted! Did he even know what had just happened?
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I think we may want to get dressed,” he suggested. “I hear voices.”
“I don’t know whether to slap you or kiss you,” she answered.
He looked down at her and smiled fiendishly.
“What, did you come?”
She slapped him weakly. He laughed.
“I deserve that.”
“Not for the reason you think. That’s for not coming with me,” she pouted.
Trixie put her clothes back on and Cy did the same, except for his shirt, which he used to quickly wipe himself down before pulling on his shorts. As they approached the beach, they came upon three teenage boys and as many girls waiting with a cooler unloaded from their canoe. They weren’t surprised to see them in the least, but the eyes of each boy widened to the size of milk saucers when Trixie emerged out of the forest. Cy followed close behind, bare-chested, prompting the teenage girls to grin and titter among each other.
“It’s all yours,” Cy told the group, “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting long.”
“No sweat dude. You didn't have to rush on our account,” the tallest boy said, more than a little cheekily.
As they walked by the group to their kayak, one of the girls raised a hand in the air to Trixie.
“Nicely done girlfriend.”
She returned the high-five and leaned in closer. “You should see his ass.”
The girl closed her eyes and nodded sagely. “Oh don’t worry, we did.”
Cy and Trixie paddled away, barely able to contain their own snickering, and abandoned their island to the sextet of teenagers. Clearly it was still a place where kids went to get away from their parents. Some things never change, Cy mused. Trixie put her paddle down for a moment and turned around to face him. He had a smug look on his face. Cy's role-reversal fantasy had been recreated almost verbatim, right down to being ogled.
“You can do all the paddling for a while Mister Monk. One of us is clearly more tired than the other here,” she said, shooting a mocking scowl of condemnation at Cy.
“I would have finished,” he pleaded. “It’s not like I planned to be interrupted.”
“Oh I think there was a good deal more planned here than I realized. How long have you been keeping that memory in the forefront of your mind?” she asked.
“Pretty much since the day we met. It's like you were the older version of
that girl from so long ago, but all grown up and womanly.”
