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Once he’s rinsed his hair, he pulls me under the water and I see the same admiration in his eyes for the now wet white t-shirt showing him my hard nipples. I giggle as I pull the shirt over my head and appreciate his help getting it all the way off of me. I return the favor by pulling his underwear down.
“All of my dreams are coming true tonight,” he says as I sit on the ledge in front of his very hard dick.
“You dreamed of me pouring ice cream on your head?” I say with a smirk.
“Not that exact thing, but I did dream of having someone in my life I can be myself with, someone who can be playful and then look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
I smile because he really says the sweetest things. “How am I looking at you?” I ask, curling my hand around the base of his erection. He has a really nice looking penis. Not that I’ve seen a whole lot of them, but I can recognize that his is awesome.
“Like, you want to make me the happiest man on earth.”
Leaning forward, I kiss the tip of him and then run my tongue underneath where I think is a sensitive spot. I’ve only given one other blow job in my life and it ended with him coming so I think I must have done something right. The article I read about giving head encouraged holding the base of the erection so you could work your mouth on the tip. Makes sense to me. There’s no way I could get all of that in my mouth.
“Mollie,” he groans and I take that as a green light to forge ahead. Ha ha, get it? A-head? I take as much as I can into my mouth and then suck a little as I release him. “Holy shit.”
It’s my turn to have his hands in my hair as he holds me gently as I repeat my one and only move over and over. My impression is that blow jobs don’t need a lot of flair so I stick with what seems to be working and increase my suction.
“I’m going to come,” he whispers and remove my hand form his dick and hold his ass cheeks to keep him in my mouth as I swallow. It seems like the right move, spitting is gross.
When I pull back, I wiggle my jaw, kiss his abdomen and stand. He pulls me under the warm water and kisses me stupid.
By the time we are dry, dressed—him in his shorts and me in an oversized tee—and in bed, I’m straight up exhausted. Owen pulls me to his side and I fall asleep.
In the morning, I find myself alone in bed and am a little sad. I’m assuming Owen went home to get dressed and ready for work since it’s nine o’clock and we have to be on the beach in an hour. My body is awash with new sensations and delicious soreness in places that haven’t been sore before. I do a few yoga stretches and then head to the bathroom to get ready.
When I get to the kitchen, I find my mother there making pancakes and I shout in surprise when I spot her. “Oh, mom, you startled me.”
“Sorry, Molls, I got in early this morning and wanted to surprise you with some blueberry pancakes,” she says waving the spatula. “The kitchen was a mess and you left ice cream out to melt,” she says in a scolding tone. “I thought I told you never to waste good ice cream.”
“Sorry,” I say shrugging, “it was so hot I just had to have some and then I got sleepy and left it out by mistake. You know how I get after working a full day.”
“All is forgiven if you go out and get more later.” I nod and sit at the bar, blushing when I think about what Owen and I were up to with the ice cream and everything else.
“I will get more ice cream than you can eat all summer. I promise.”
She laughs and sets down a plate of pancakes, bacon, and orange juice. I eat it all because I’m starving after having all the sex, and I can already tell today is going to be its own kind of torture. It is going to be hot, crowded, and I have to be alert while sitting next to Owen. All I’m going to be thinking about is getting him naked later while people’s lives are at stake. Worst lifeguard ever.
“Yoohoo!” Owen calls and I shake my head because he’s a total dork. “Mollie James, it’s time for work!”
“In the kitchen, mom’s got extra pancakes for you.” I say hoping he hears me and tones it down.
“Hi, Ms. K,” he calls, as he glides into the kitchen and sits next to me. He’s in his red swim trunks, aviator sunglasses propped on his head, and whistle around his neck. If there’s such a thing as lifeguard kink, then sign me up.
“Hey, Owen, feel free to call me Gail,” she says repeating herself. She’s asked him a few times to call her by her first name. I know she likes that he uses Ms., and the first letter of her maiden name, Kelly, she changed back to after divorcing my dad. “Make sure you guys really lather on the sunscreen today.”
“We always do, mom,” I say as she drops an even larger plate of pancakes in front of Owen. “Hey, why does he get more?”
“Because he, um, got here after I served you and I gave him the rest of the pancakes?” she says and I laugh as Owen takes one off his plate and places it on mine. “Such a gentleman, you are a diamond in the rough, Mr. Hart.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Gail,” he says in a flirty tone and I squeeze his knee. “Um, Ms. K.”
My mom laughs and waves him off like he’s being ridiculous. “You kids have a great day, I’m going to go read on the deck before it gets unbearable out there.”
“Thanks, mom,” I call as she closes the sliding door to the deck. “Holy crap, tell me how you got past her?” I ask.
He smiles and takes a giant bite of his food. “I’m a flaffaa-jack,” he says with his mouth full.
“Stop it,” I say, reaching to pinch his nipple but he grabs my hand and kisses it before I can.
