*21:Pool of Desire

With both hands tucked behind his head, Jon rocked his foot restlessly back and forth on the end of the cushioned pool chair and vaguely wished for a cigarette.  They were horrible for him.  He knew that but still occasionally missed that burn in his lungs, and nicotine went a long way toward relaxation.

Anybody else in the world would probably be lulled into a blissful coma by the scene around him.  The tranquil summer night stirred with little more than a smattering of fireflies and a melodic cricket chorus.  The twinkling canopy of stars and moon that was less than half-full cast just enough light to dispel a handful of dark shadows from the yard.  Another cluster of shadows was chased away by the strand lights along the pool fence, which illuminated another segment of night with their soft radiance, along with the glowing water. 

The whole damn thing bordered on romantic, if you were into that kind of thing.

Jon wasn’t out here for romance.  He was biding his time, twiddling his thumbs and waiting see if the counselor would grace him with her presence.

The way he figured things, it was a toss-up.  He wouldn’t put it past her to leave him hanging for some twisted form of enjoyment.   She was malicious enough to do it but, then again, there was that ride on the water today.  The one where he could feel the heat of her crotch melting his ass every time she squirmed on the seat.  The one that she escaped from as fast as she could when it was over, to keep her distance from him the rest of the day.

He hated it and she hated it, but they had something between them that was more sexually charged than anything he’d come across in a long, long time.  Even if she didn’t feel it as intensely as he did, her pre-orgasm remark about there being “nothing like a real dick” told him it was better than her artificial alternative.  It didn’t set the bar high, but still.

Jon sensed more than heard someone approaching and turned his eyes toward the lawn, studying the shadows until he was able to make out a woman’s figure in the moonlight.  Dark hair flowed freely around her shoulders as she approached the gate and, when she stepped through, he caught a flash of bare leg.  Hungry eyes crawled up that bare leg, going higher and higher until the view of naked skin was impeded by frayed denim.  Unable to stop himself, he went a little higher to inspect the fit of the cut-offs and discover that they were accompanied by a figure-hugging tank whose light color was indistinguishable.

“You came.”

“Not yet.”

He refused to smile at what he’d normally find humorous as she approached the foot of his chair.  Her smiles had never been pointed in his direction, and he saw no need to tip the scales by pointing one in hers.  It was easier to wade into the gutter with her.

“You wanna climb on right now?  I thought maybe we’d try a little privacy this time, but hell…”  Jon reached under his t-shirt and flipped open the button on his cargo shorts.  “…I’m not picky.”

The zipper had just begun is rasping journey when she condescendingly observed, “I would think somebody as famous as you are would be a little more obsessive about privacy.”

Shrugging, he swung his feet around to the grass and sat on the edge of the chair cushion.  “I usually am, which reminds me...”  Pushing to his feet, he fished around in his back pocket for a folded sheet of paper.  “I’m going to need your signature on this.”

She accepted it hesitantly and with a frown, unfolding it the three times necessary to reveal the document face and straining to read the print in the dim lighting.  "This better be a note from your doctor.”

“A non-disclosure agreement,” was his impassive response as he passed by her to get a head start to the Airstream that would serve as quickie headquarters tonight.  Pausing at the pool’s edge, he turned to her to casually add, “You talk out of school about our interactions and you lose everything you own.”

Her head snapped up sharply and he would guarantee that, regardless of the month showing on the calendar, there was hot cocoa boiling in those brown eyes.  His pleasure at the idea probably made him just as malicious as her, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“You arrogant son of a bitch.”

“What?”  Jon’s lifted both palms to the night sky, playing up his feigned confusion.  “It’s insulting for me to legally demand that you do the right thing?  Are you outraged that I don’t trust your sterling reputation?  You find it offensive that I might question your honor and integrity?  Well, welcome to the fucking club, Counselor.”

It gave him a perverse thrill that she was pissed.  That wasn't his primary reason for having the paperwork drawn up yesterday, but it was a definite perk.  If he was being honest, he would say he'd been looking forward to this moment with spiteful glee because she’d certainly sprung her fair share of unwelcome surprises.

An incensed flick of her wrist had the paper shooting through the air behind her, and it skidded across the surface of a chair cushion before floating to the grass on the other side. 

“This your grand plan for tonight?” she challenged coldly, over the ‘flip-flop’ noise of her sandals as she slowly and steadily approached him.  “Trying to demean me?  Again?”  Her anger billowed out more fervently with each step, spreading its underlying heat as she came closer.    “Because you had your shot the other night, and I told you then that when it was over…”  Her shoes brushed the bare ends of his toes when she stopped and lifted her hands.  “… it was over!”

On that final emphatic word, the heels of her palms forcefully connected with Jon’s chest, and the unexpectedness of it sent him reeling.  Fighting for balance, his arms flailed instinctively outward and, upon bumping into her forearms, Jon deliberately clamped onto them.  When he ultimately lost his battle with gravity, Charlie was forced to come along for the ride and sailed through the air until landing briefly on top of him when his back hit the pool's surface. 

The crickets were muffled by the sound of moving water as they went under, and the resulting waves immediately pulled their bodies apart.  The only point of contact as they both floundered for footing in the waist-high water was his death grip on her, which Jon would release only if he drowned. 

She kicked, he thrashed and they both broke the surface about the same time, but it was Charlie who got to her feet first to viciously sputter, “You asshole!  Let go of me!”

“The fuck I will!” His roar shattered any semblance of tranquility that remained in the Lily Pond Lane yard.  His unfastened cargo shorts had taken on water and, when he stood, the weight of it had them sinking to the bottom of the pool.  Being wet from the little wench’s shove into the pool was one thing, but to have his wet dick floating freely brought a whole other level of pissed off.  

She would not dictate how this night went down.  Period. 

Both of them were dripping wet with wet hair plastered to their faces, and rivulets trekked down noses and cheeks as he brought her hands up between them.  Using his grip, he stepped out of his shorts and forced her to wade backward until her ass hit the side of the pool.  Leaving her with nowhere to retreat, he got down in her face while pretending not to notice how the underwater lights spotlighted her puckered nipples. 

“You’ll sign the goddamn paper or you’ll get out.  What’s it gonna be?”

Her chest heaved with each gulp of air as she fought to regain her breath, and her eyes clashed with his in the muted lighting.  Hypnotized by the droplets that chased one another into the valley of her cleavage as the fullness of her breasts continued to rise and fell, he mindlessly counted each time they hitched up and tempted him.  Taunted him.

One… Two…  Three… Four…

“Fuck me first,” came her heated growl an instant before wet lips zealously attached to his.

“Mmphf.”

Noses bumped as they jockeyed for position and he left her with control just long enough to settle into the right angle.  Using his height advantage, Jon released her wrists to lean in and intensify the force of that kiss enough to form dental imprints on the inside of his lips.  They were so fiercely connected to hers that, when he opened his mouth, she had no choice but to follow suit.  That provided access to one of the counselor's openings that he’d been thinking about for two days.

Laying claim to the soft recesses of her mouth, he sought to vent his frustration by swallowing her whole, and a sweeping tongue demanded that she accommodate him. She tried to nip at his lip and, when that didn’t work, she sucked sharply on his tongue over and over.  She whimpered.  She moaned.  She even grunted quietly in the back of her throat, but he held onto her head firmly and refused to back down. 

Having her under his authority felt too damn good.

The little vixen must have decided that if she couldn’t beat him, she would up the ante.  With his feet planted wide for stability and his shorts somewhere on the pool floor, her hand found its way between his legs and cupped his balls for a firm squeeze before moving up his shaft.  Hard fingers curled to repeatedly pump it from a soggy half-mast to flagpole proud and, while she jacked him with one hand, the other was pushing sodden cotton up his back so that she could claw her way down to the curve of his ass. 

“Fuck!”  The bite of pain when she sunk those nails into the skin had him tearing his mouth away with a wet ‘pop’.  “Collecting another pound of flesh?” 

“I have no damn idea what I’m doing,” she panted, seeking out the lips she had been so intent upon escaping.  “One friggin’ touch and I lose my mind.”

 “Welcome to the club, Counselor.”

His words were a dark echo of his earlier statement, and there was a tug between his legs that bordered on painful before she warned, “Don’t call me that.”

“Give me a reason not to,” he countered wickedly before cramming both hands under her sopping tank and mauling her breasts.  Their heavy weight spoke of nothing but Mother Nature’s touch and he wished to see them free.  To suck them.  To fuck them.  “Beg me.”

“You think that’s the only way this is good?”  Voracious lips found his Adam’s apple and she licked away her sharp nip with as much pleasure as she would a candy apple.  “If I beg?”

“No.  You get off on having your control taken away, and I get off on taking it.  That’s why it’s good.”  His point was proven when a hard, domineering kiss had her mouth immediately popping open to receive his tongue.  “Now be a good little submissive and beg me,” he ordered softly against her lips.

The cups of her bra were shoved aside to roll both fat nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and they swelled under his touch as a moan swelled from his lover’s throat.  He pinched harder to see if she would moan louder, and when she did, his dick went even stiffer in her pumping fist.

“Beg me.”

The words became a breathy taunt as he abandoned her nipples to push the wet tank up and over her head.  It hit the pool deck with a dull ‘splat’, and her bra sailed through the air to float lifelessly on the pool’s surface.  Jon detached her hand from his boner and worked at the button on her cutoffs, pushing them to join his in the water.  Her skimpy thong panties he ripped off just for the hell of it, and chased it all with his wet shirt.

“Jesus,” she purred, spreading her legs to make room for him to bury two fingers deep and hard enough to make her gasp.  “You are a caveman, aren’t you, Stud?”

He only wanted her primed enough to get his dick in without a fight, and the sticky slickness was starting to flow so he withdrew fingers that were drenched with more than water.  Popping them in his mouth, he sucked them dry before rumbling, “I play nice for the cameras, but I’m a crude motherfucker under it all.  Put your legs around me.  I want in.”

“Yesssss,” she purred, and Jon’s dick jumped. 

Tangling a hand into the back of her wet mass of hair, he tugged until her face was lifted to the moonlight.  “That’s what you want isn’t it?  A crude motherfucker to make you take what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she countered without contradicting him, and submerged her hand to guide him inside her.  “Please, Jon.”

“Sonofabitch.”  The air eked fully out of his lungs, and he slid forcefully home to jar a grunt from her.  “Hold on.”

Putting one hand on each side of her, he braced himself on the pool’s edge as she clung to him like Saran Wrap.  Jon withdrew and hammered in as her hands feverishly roamed his back.  He wouldn’t be able to go shirtless for a week, but he could feel the effect of her nails all the way to the tip of his dick and hammered again.

“Talk to me.  Give me what I want.”

Her lips were nuzzling the crook of his neck, and sharp teeth nipped at the tendon there.  “What do you want?  You wanna know how the best vibrator money can buy doesn’t compare to the way your cock fills me?  You wanna know how this fucked up thing we have turns me on like a damn light switch?  You wanna-  Nnnhhh!  Oh God!  Yes, yes.  Harder!”

He slammed into her to stop the words.  Jon didn’t want a fucking dissertation.  He wanted her to be a sweet, compliant, pleading woman long enough for him to come.

“Beg me,” he repeated, dipping to suck in one chubby nipple and roll it on his tongue.

“Ohhhh fuck!  Vibrators don’t do that.  Suck it.”

Easing the pounding tempo below the water to a lazy push and pull, he opened his mouth wider to draw in more of the fleshy softness.  Her hands dug into his hair as she held him there and arched into the heated suction. 

“So good.  Why does everything with you have to be so good?”

It was the best question she ever asked, but Jon wasn’t interested in plumbing those psychological depths at the moment.  He just wanted to plumb her depths.

He let the nipple slide from his mouth to drag his flattened tongue all the way up her sternum, around her collar bone and up the column of her neck.  Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he released the pool edge to plunge his hands beneath the water and palm her ass so that he could change the tempo again.  This time it was short, hard jabs that produced choppy waves perfectly mirroring the turbulence building inside him.

“Yes.  That’s it,” she panted, rolling her hips forward to receive the full impact of every hit. Both arms and legs were wrapped to fully imprison him in her grip, but he still wanted her to acknowledge…

“Tell me.  Chiara.”  His words were broken by the effort it took to pound beneath the water.  “Tell me.  Who.  Is in.  Control.”

“Mmmnnfhhh!  Oh, oh, ohhhh.  Yes.  So good.  So good!”

“Tell.  Me,” he growled with a sharp nip under her jaw, his fingers clutching more fiercely into her bottom as his orgasm built.  “Stubborn. Wench.”

Her head fell back on a groan and, just like last time they did this, the words started coming faster and tumbling together.  Over and over she defiantly ordered, demanded and gave direction.  “Make me come.  Unnhh!  Take your fucking control and make me come goddammit!  Mnfff!”  

Knowing it was there, knowing that he had to power his way through this to get to it, Jon bent his head and slammed into her.  He ground against her clit, he bit at her neck, he used his chest hair to scrape her nipples raw.  He did it over and over again, finally moaning her name as his own orgasm hovered on the brink. 

And that was when her submission came. 

“Oh God!  Please, Jon.  Nnnnnnnh!   Please don’t stop.  Mmnh!  I’m begging you.  Take me with you.  Ohhhhhhhhh!  Take me withhhhh youuuuu!” 

The sudden appearance of another million stars in the night sky was blinding.  They were everywhere, cramming in close enough that Jon couldn’t distinguish one from another, and they were so fucking bright that he could see them with his eyes closed.