Nip.
Oh, God!
He inserts a second finger, and my pussy clenches around both.
“Charles,” I cry out, and his fingers work harder. Faster.
I’m coming apart, and it’s the greatest form of ecstasy. No drug could ever compare to the things Charles does to my body.
He continues to lap at me as I grind against him, riding out the orgasm.
I’m limp against the chair, riding the high.
“Your turn,” I say, rolling to the side.
He shakes his head. “Not now. Rest. There’s plenty of time.”
At some point, I doze off, relaxed and happy.
* * *
The sun is stillhigh in the sky while the two of us are lying on the sun loungers with big, floppy hats and drinks at the ready.
Another platter of food is delivered poolside. I’m not sure I can eat another thing until I see the decadent desserts.
“So how often have you brought other girls here?” I ask while biting into a chocolate-covered strawberry.
The words are out before I can take them back. The truth is, I don’t want to know. It’s the last thing I want to think about. He’s quiet, and I think he might dodge the question, but he doesn’t.
He turns to face me. “This is the third time.”
“Oh?” I say, sounding disappointed.
What did you expect?
For him to say that he’d never brought a girl to the Hamptons before?
I guess I should be grateful for the honesty.
“And how was it?”
Why on earth I think that’s a good question to ask is beyond me. I’m clearly a glutton for punishment or really trying to push his boundaries.
“Terrible,” he admits. “Not like this at all.”
“You mean they didn’t run and dive-bomb into the pool?” I tease, needing to ease the tension I’ve caused.
He laughs. “They certainly didn’t. They were more interested in making sure they got the perfect tan or putting together the perfect cocktail. Or taking endless photos to put on their social media accounts and brag to the world.” He sighs. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand that this is quite the place. But it’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?” I ask tentatively, feeling like he’s finally going to open up.
“They were most interested in telling other people about how splendid their life is rather than spending time with me.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
He felt used for his money.
“I’m sorry, Charles. It sounds like you’ve dated some real divas.”
He grunts. “I’ve dated a lot of fake girls in the past.”