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A shiver runs up my spine as I feel his naked chest brushing against my breasts, and I almost take the top of my bikini off. I don’t do it, though - if he wants to enjoy my naked body, he has to unwrap me first. Just like a present on Christmas’ day.
Taking my feet off the bottom of the pool, I lift my legs and wrap them around his torso, reeling him in as I throw my arms over his shoulders.
“I could keep kissing you forever,” he whispers, taking his lips off mine. He looks into my eyes and places one hand under the nape of my neck, holding my head still as he takes in every detail of my face. “Fuck, Megan… Why do you have to be this beautiful?”
Now, I’ve been around these billionaire types for quite some time now, and I’ve grown accustomed to their brashness. Still, right now I can’t stop myself from blushing. Boiling blood shoots up from my heart and makes its way to my face, my cheeks burning as I hold eye contact with Tristan.
There was something so genuine about the way he said it. It wasn’t a pick-up line (we’re past that already), and he isn’t trying to smooth talk his way into my pants. No… He felt something, and he said it without thinking twice, no second intentions hiding behind his words.
I try to think of a suitable reply, but no words make their way to my brain. And so, I just lean in and kiss him again, opening my mouth and allowing a kind of wild frenzy to take over my body and soul.
With my legs wrapped around his torso, my crotch is dangerously close to his, which means that I’m already feeling something hardening underwater, something that wants to devour me… And no, it’s not a shark.
Allowing my body to sink down a few inches, I then rock my hips and press my crotch against his as hard as I can. I feel his hard cock under his swimming trunks, and my heart almost stops - it just feels so… thick. What is he hiding under these trunks? A soda can?
“Someone’s getting excited,” I tell him with a coy laugh, pressing my forehead against his and enjoying the closeness of his body.
“Is it just me....?” He asks, a devilish grin taking over his lips, his smart eyes focused on mine.
“No, it isn’t just you,” I laugh again, biting down on my lower lip as I feel his tree-trunk of a cock throb under his swimming trunks. More than thick, his member feels long as well… Ten inches, maybe? No, it’s got to be at least twelve. Oh, God, you can bet that I’m as excited as he is right now.
I already feel myself growing wetter and wetter… And I can assure you that it has nothing to do with the fact that we’re inside a swimming pool, water up to our necks.
Running one hand through my wet hair, his eyes locked on mine, Tristan smiles. It’s a gentle smile but, behind the kindness in his eyes, I can see a kind of fiery lust, flames of desire raging inside of him and ready to devour me.
Returning his gaze, I never even blink as I place one hand on his chest and then slide it down, my fingertips slowly caressing the contour of his ripped muscles. When I feel his washboard abs under the palm of my hand, I move even slower, enjoying the hardness of each perfect square of muscle that covers his stomach. More than looking like a model that could be on the cover of a fitness magazine, Tristan has a body that would be worthy of a marble statue - I mean, hell, his muscles already seem like they’re made out of marble.
But I don’t linger on his abs more than necessary; no, there are more interesting things on his body that I still haven’t explored. Oh, but I’m getting there.
My fingers move over the wet fabric of his swimming trunks and, turning my hand around, I flatten my palm against the bulging shape tenting his trunks. I sigh heavily as I feel it pulsing against my hand, and I can’t resist it; I curl my fingers around it, wrapping them around his thickness, and give it a soft squeeze.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he says, leaning into me and whispering the words into my ear.
“I know,” I reply in that same hushed tone, my voice growing heavy with each passing second. “That’s the point,” I continue, closing my eyes as he starts nibbling at the skin on my neck, pulling it between his teeth. I sigh again, my fingers tightening around his cock, and then I simply let go of it - of course, I only do it so that I can untie his trunks.
And that’s exactly what I do.
I undo the knot tying them up and pull at the hem, loosening them up. Then, flattening the palm of my hand against his abs again, I slide my hand down as slowly as I can. My heart tightens up into a fist as my fingers move down, and then it almost bursts inside my chest as I feel the warmness of Tristan’s flesh brushing against my knuckles.
Grabbing his cock, I chomp on my lower lip as the warmness of his huge member spills into my fingers and climbs up my arm. Allowing instinct to dictate the movements of my body, I start moving my hand up and down the length of his shaft, carefully measuring it with each stroke. Yup, twelve-inches at the very least. More than a cock, right now I’m holding a python - one so dangerous it might end up devouring me.
“You’re so big,” I find myself saying, the words spilling out from between my lips before I can even think of what I’m saying. Not that it matters - after all, it’s the truth.
“And it’s all yours if you want it,” he replies in a heartbeat, and I grit my teeth and stop the words from escaping my mouth. If I could, I’d just say yes and surrender to him; I’d offer him my body on a silver platter, and I’d let him do whatever he wanted with this big cock of his. But I can’t - I can’t and I won’t.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” I tease him, nibbling at his earlobe and upping the rhythm of my hand. I feel his breathing start to grow heavy and ragged, and that just makes my pussy even wetter.
“Maybe I can help you make up your mind,” he tells me, once more looking into my eyes. One of his hands trails up the sides of my body and he slides it over the rising curve of my right breast, slowly squeezing it. I look back into his eyes as he does it, my insides clenching as I struggle to remain in control of the situation - and, between you and me, that’s not an easy task.
Hooking his thumb on the cup of my biking top, he pulls it down and bares my nipple, my rosy tip hard and aching. He brushes his fingers over it and then, squeezing my breast so that my nipple is pointing up, he sinks down on the pool a few inches and reaches for me with his mouth. I throw my head back and sigh, feeling him wrap his lips around my nipple; he sucks it into his mouth, his lips tight around it, and runs soft but steady circles around it with his tongue.
I let go of his cock as he works on my nipple, and take both my hands to his hair; tangling my fingers into it, I pull him hard into me and force him to start sucking harder. And, of course, that’s what h
e does - he sucks on my right nipple as if he intended to devour it and, with his free hand, he pulls down the other cup and squeezes my left breast.
I moan, every single inch of my body on fire, even though I have water up to my neck.
