Falling for Rex by Shayne Ford

16

LUNA RAE

They do pickus up an hour later.

We both wear dresses.

I’m dressed in white while Frankie’ sports a pink dress. They wear jeans, boots, T-shirts, and sunglasses.

They hand us our helmets and help us to hop on their motorcycles.

Soon we’re on the highway, heading southbound.

The sun slowly descends, a soft wind sweeping the ocean and the shore. People leave the beach, heading to their cars and homes or downtown to have dinner at a restaurant.

The summer infuses the air with a scent of salty water and fresh vegetation, the sunlight gliding across the land and the crests.

The soft breeze plays in my hair as I hold onto Rex, my arms looped around his torso, my chest crushed against his back.

We slide down the highway in noise of roaring engines.

I press my cheek against his back, pinning my eyes in the distance before taking in the open view and enjoying this moment of connection with him, nature, and this beautiful day.

Minutes later, we follow a secondary road that takes us to a remote beach and a cove. It’s different than where we spent our first night together.

The men stop their motorcycles on a stretch of concrete before we all dismount the bikes, grab our things, and walk to the water.

“It’s beautiful,” I mutter, soaking in the soft waves and pink-purple sunset.

Frankie looks at me, smiling gleefully.

We take off our clothes, toss them on the beach towel and enter the water.

We wear swimsuits, the men sporting swim shorts.

Soon, Frankie and Carlos find their way to each other while I swim into a wave.

The crest rises and falls, pushing me underneath before I surface, fill my lungs with air, and look around.

Rex is not far from me.

“Haha... I love this,” I say, grinning from ear to ear.

He smiles in response, happiness beaming in his eyes.

“I thought it’s going to be more people,” I say.

“There are people,” he mutters as we both stop swimming and push to our feet, the ocean floor lining our soles.

He motions to the beach, where two more couples set their things down. One of the girls is Amber Stone. I move my eyes to him.

For some reason, I feel good about this afternoon.

Things begin to feel normal as we’re out here, enjoying ourselves, the memory of last night fading away.

Prompted by this good feeling, I inch to him, wind my arms around his neck and press my chest against his torso.

“Thank you,” I say in a soft, tender voice, holding his eyes.

His arms go around me in a shy response as if my tenderness is something new to him.

He quickly gets lost in my eyes, pleasantly surprised, unsure of how to react.

I push myself up to him again, cup his face, and kiss him until his tension subsides, his hands running on me under the water.

Our lips lock in a kiss we haven’t had the chance to have.

Holding the back of my hair, he tilts his head down, responding to my display of affection with equal tenderness.

This feels like a small shift in our timeline, one that I’ll never forget–– the moment in which he assigned me a different role in his life and lodged a different memory of mine in his mind.

The water feels warmer around us, yet it’s mostly the heat of our bodies. His hands stay steady on me but not for long. As our lips keep rolling and our tongues keep dancing together, carnal pleasure begins sweeping our senses.

Easily, he unties my bra and sweeps the triangles to the side, freeing my breasts before stroking them under the water.

A small crest forms not far from us before breaking against us. It makes us stagger for a moment yet doesn’t tear us apart.

Washed in the beaming sunset, we hold onto each other, his hand nestled in the back of my hair, his palm cupping and stroking my breasts, his lips burning against mine.

He’s like a feral beast, falling for me–– falling into a trap–– and starting to morph into something else.

He gets high on me, like now–– drunk, swept away in a trance, his eyes foggy, unfocused.

My hands go to his neck before his fingers slide down inside my bikini, pushing them to my thighs. Not much, just so I feel the water straight on my sex and his hand on me.

His kiss deepens, slowing down, his hand sweeping my butt, before two fingers slide between my butt cheeks, rubbing my back ring and my entrance.

I raise my leg without getting the slightest nudge from him and loop it around his waist, opening the area that he earnestly strokes.

With him, a kiss is never only a kiss. It becomes a full-body experience, with his fingers rubbing me between my legs, his mouth capturing my mouth, and his hand cupping my breasts, one by one.

He pulls me into him, making me feel his cock––fully erect and hard–– through the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Curled into a hard grip, his hand claims my sex from behind, his tongue plunging into my mouth, while I slip my hands into his shorts and pull them to his thighs.

My bikini threatens to untether from my body if I keep my leg lifted, hitched on his hip, so I do the most insane, riskiest thing, sliding it down and freeing one leg, making a mental note not to move the other foot, so I don’t lose my panties in the ocean.

My bra hangs from my neck, my panties fluttering around my ankle as I slide my thigh up on his hip, opening my sex to him and pressing my folds against his hard-on–– the water, bare skin, and fiery kiss, tossing me into a whirlwind of ecstatic pleasure.

I never thought a man could feel like this. I never thought his hand and mouth, and body could become the most delicious experience.

Every fiber of my body pulses, throbs, churns heat, wants more... more heat, more touch, more sex.

More pleasure.

He is almost completely naked against me as I’m almost completely naked against him, and from afar, you can only see two heads above the water.

A man and a woman kissing while everything happens under the water. His chest turns into a pumping machine, his breaths flowing into my lungs, his kiss becoming ravenous as he tilts my hips into a hypnotic rhythm, rubbing my clit with his cock.

I lean on him, his arm draped around me, sealing me against his chest, his other hand secured against my sex at my back.

I tilt my hips, out of instinct, moaning in his mouth, begging him to make me come.

He could finish me at any moment now, but as he’s done it before, he lets me satiate myself first and overindulge.

To him, more is more.

And the same goes for me.

“This feels so good,” I breathe against his mouth, rolling slightly against his thick erection before biting his lip, kissing him, and teasing him.

I couldn’t be more open to him. And I never thought we’d be naked against each other in the ocean, with people not far from us on the beach.

He paces his kiss again to prolong this moment, I imagine, and we lasciviously lock our tongues and move our lips until his hand begins to slide between my legs from my butt to my entrance and his hips start rocking harder, his hard length grinding against my slit.

His fingers slide from my back ring to my entrance before he curls his index finger and middle finger.

Slowly, he slides his middle finger into me.

I gasp and stop, our kiss breaking before we look into each other eyes.

Golden red light drips from the sky, the water rippling around us, no waves in sight as if nature stopped breathing, taking away the bouncing ocean and giving us a bed of water.

It’s made for love... Only for us.

His eyes capture the sunset, a smile, the magic of this moment, the infinite intimacy and closeness I’ve never felt with anyone before.

We get locked in this spellbinding moment as he pushes his finger deeper, feeling me up, entering my depths, experiencing my warmth and wetness, noticing my clenching.

“Hurts?”

“No,” I murmur, my eyes slipping to his lips.

He smiles and lowers his head, and we begin to kiss again, his fingers going back and forth as my clit throbs against his hard flesh.

“I could fuck you till the end of time...” he says before plunging his tongue into my mouth again and letting me roll my lips on it.

Moan on it.

Suck on it.

And stroke it.

The more I’m doing it, the deeper he dips his touch into me, and the more rapid my clenching becomes.

He can’t help himself, grunting, his hard flesh sliding between my folds.

I tear one hand away from his neck and cuff his erection, forming a fist around his crown and giving him a ring to push his hard-on through.

“Fuck,” he mutters, losing his focus, strengthening his grip on me, stroking me harder between my legs.

With every move, he presses me against his cock.

We kiss. I stroke. He strokes. I pulse. He throbs, and then his index finger starts to push, and it doesn’t take long before he slips the tip of his finger into my back entrance.

I’m now completely locked. My mouth sealed to his, my body pressed against his. My chest crushed against his pecs and his fingers moving into me. He moves his middle finger, keeping his index finger still.

And I begin to move too. Slowly at first, finding my way, rubbing my clit against his cock and my sex against his middle finger, and my back hole against his index finger.

He breathes faster and faster, and I know... I know where he is. I know what it means when he can no longer kiss me because his body is too tense, and he rides that crest too close, his hard length twitching in my hand, ready to blast the creamy load.

He closes his eyes, transfixed, while I watch him, drunk, not better than him, even more intoxicated than him.

Heaving, I tilt my head down and press my lips against his neck, breathing fire across his skin, muttering in delirium.

“Fuck me... Rex... Fuck me...”

He can’t hear me, or maybe he does.

He probably does as he grunts again. A storm could not stop this right now as I stroke him faster and faster as if I know he is where I am. Ready to tip him over the edge, to indulge in a spike of pleasure, to feel my body quivering with delight.

He holds my thigh high, tilting his hips into me, grinding faster as I rub him and squeeze him, doing to him what he does to me–– he pushes me to the edge in a split second.

His fingers move, both of them, and I’m open to him, open, and throbbing everywhere when he breathes out a “Fuck...” and then he takes my mouth in one move, locking my lips and thrusting his tongue into me as if he fucks me with it.

It’s how he blocks the sound creeping up my throat and dying in the storm of our mouths.

I call his name and moan and groan, stroking him fast until I jerk him off. Until I feel his warm fluid on my fist and his fingers going deep into me.

So deep, my insides melt into a throbbing fest.

We stop... late... when the light is no longer gold but laced with darker red and navy and no one else is in the water, only us.

And my body hurts. His body might be hurting too. My muscles are sore, and my standing foot shakes.

His fingers slip out of me, my fist tearing away from his cock.

We look at each other, tethered back to reality, still breathing fast and reading each other eyes.

I lift my leg, catch my panties, and slide them up on me before tying up my bra.

He runs his fist along his length a few more times before pulling his shorts up.

A smile seizes his lips.

“What were you thanking me for?” he asks, amused.

I laugh, falling back into the bed of water.