Soaking Wet Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  JUST ANOTHER DAY AT THE BEACH

  SABRA

  WHERE THE RUBBER MEETS THE ROAD

  THE WEEKEND

  CRUISING

  BUSTED

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Copyright Page

  JUST ANOTHER DAY AT THE BEACH

  Rachel Kramer Bussel

  It was the middle of summer, and my girlfriend Jill and I had taken a long weekend to relax and enjoy the sun, and each other. Our jobs don’t cut us much slack, so it was mid-August before we had our first real chance to get away. She’d never been to the beach with me so she had no clue what to expect. She probably thought she’d simply slather on some cocoa butter, indulge in a meaty paperback, and swim till she became exhausted. She’d be exhausted, all right, by the end of the day—but not from sitting around. We’d borrowed our friend’s keys to the secluded, members-only beach, so our privacy would be guaranteed.

  I settled into my chair and watched as she went through her elaborate beach ritual, her body snug in her new Pucci print bikini, pushing her tits out until you’d have to be blind not to see them. She slowly oiled herself, moving up one arm, down the next, all over her exposed chest and cute stomach. She bent forward, treating me to a view of her perfect ass as she slathered the white liquid onto her toes, ankles, and calves. I had to shift in my seat as she kept going, her brow furrowed as she tried to get every last spot, contorting this way and that as her hand reached behind to get her back. Seeing her ass sticking right out in front of me, so perfect she could be a model, I sat on my hands in order not to reach out and squeeze those precious cheeks. Usually when she bends over like that, it’s so I can give her a nice, hard smack.

  I crossed my legs in the chair and felt my pussy contract. Watching her is my favorite spectator sport. She loves to tan, and often steals a few hours of sun on our roof in the mornings. In preparation for this outing, she’d tried on swimsuit after swimsuit, modeling the barely-there materials that accentuated every bulging, glistening curve.

  I had opted for a simple black one-piece, a low-maintenance suit that doesn’t cause me any trouble and still emphasizes the right parts of my body. I held back a smile as I watched Jill twist and turn to rub lotion on her back, first going over her shoulder, then behind her and around. I had plans to keep her on her back for most of the afternoon, but she didn’t need to know that yet. “Come here,” I beckoned, and she did, sheepishly handing me the bottle. I had her sit between my legs and lean forward, then poured a healthy amount of lotion onto her back and started kneading it in, not simply rubbing but pounding it into her with my palms. As I pressed harder and harder, my hands roaming from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, she let out a moan. I pushed her head down and squeezed the back of her neck, pinching and pressing that delicate skin. I brought all my weight to bear, focusing on her neck and shoulders, feeling her go limp. I knew she was getting turned on, but I pretended not to and went about my business until her back was fully slathered with sunscreen.

  I skimmed my fingertips down her back, lightly tickling her, then whispered into her ear, “You didn’t really need so much sunscreen on your back, you know. I don’t think it’ll be facing the sun for too long today…though I could be wrong.” She turned her head and squinted at me but didn’t say a word. She knew exactly what I meant, and I in turn knew that she’d agree to whatever I asked of her. That arrangement’s worked quite well for the eight months we’d been together, and neither of us has stopped getting a little thrill of arousal when I give her an order. “Put on the sun mask,” I told her, liking how this toy doubled as a blindfold. It’s better for her to be slightly surprised, I thought, to have to wait in the darkness before I ravished her. I let her lie out in the sun for half an hour, let it beam its searing rays down on her, at the hottest time of day, her eyes hidden behind the mask. Finally, my timer buzzed and I dragged her into the shade. “Can I go in the water?” she asked, her skin warm to the touch.

  “In a little while,” I demurred, and had her lie down. “I have a better way to cool you off,” I said, pulling her to me and kissing her, our lips pressing frantically together as I reached my hand between her legs. Immediately, she whimpered.

  “Please, Alex, please,” is all she said as I played with her beneath the thin barrier of her bikini bottom. She spread her legs and I pressed harder against her, then gave her pussy a light tap and watched her body jolt. I let out a huge breath as I imagined pulling her suit aside to see her gorgeous pussy lips.

  Quietly as I could, I grabbed some ice from the cooler, then let a few drops of freezing water fall onto her skin. She squirmed and tried to move but I knelt on top of her, straddling her as I brought the ice toward her skin, running it along her neck and over her breasts, lingering on her nipples until they stood out, hard and beaded. She whimpered, and I took advantage of her open mouth to slide the half-melted cube inside. I rubbed another cube over her bikini bottom, icing it up before sliding the ice all the way down one leg, then back up, doing the same with the other. I let her finish the cube in her mouth, sucking on it deliciously. “Are you still ready?” I teased her as I peeled off her bikini, slowly dragging it down her legs. In response, she spread her legs, showing me the pussy that never fails to elicit a raw, animalistic urge to fuck her. I moved so that my own cunt was balanced on my heel, grinding against my foot as I held open her lips with one hand and rubbed an ice cube against her opening with the other. She gasped and tried to squirm away, and when I removed the cube, she cried out.

  “Keep going, please, Alex, I need it,” she begged. I slid the cube up and down her already slippery slit, pressing it against her clit before sliding it lower and then pushing it inside. I played with the ice, rubbing it against her inner walls and watching as the water dripped out of her, feeling her squeeze my fingers on this frozen delight.

  “Good girl,” I told her, and that phrase, with my fingers slamming into her, was enough to set her off into a roaring orgasm, her whole body shaking as she clutched me for dear life. I rode it out with her, pressing my own heel against my tingling cunt, aroused beyond belief.

  Now I was getting her where I wanted her. The sun was making me feel delirious. “Okay, bathing beauty, now it’s time for a little contest. Well, you’re the only contestant—but I still expect you to do be an excellent performer.” I sat in the chair, mustering all the height and haughtiness I could. I looked her up and down like a sleazy judge at a cheap beauty contest. “Come over here and turn around for me.” She complied by strutting around, even bending over, showing off her curvy ass. I gave her butt a light squeeze, then made her put her bikini bottom back on and handed her a skimpy shirt. “We’re going to have a wet T-shirt contest now, so I need you to take off your top, put on this shirt, and then get in the water. You’ll be judged like in the Olympics, on a scale of one to ten, with points for clinginess, sex appeal, and originality. You can do whatever you want as long as you keep your T-shirt on. And before you even ask, you will be highly rewarded for a high score—trust me on that.” I could see her eyes light up, her mind churning as she tried to figure out how she could dazzle me. “I’ll be sitting right over here,” I said, pointing.

  We were practically touching, and she batted her eyes at me the way she always does to get what she wants. “Can I really do whatever I want as long as I keep my T-shirt on?” she asked, putting on a simpering manner. She sure knew how to drive me crazy, and I almost bagged the whole thing, scooped her up over my shoulder, and brought her home, but I came to my senses in time. This would be too much fun to miss out on.

  “That’s what I said. Now get moving.” I gently swatted her away, then settled into my chair, a magazine over my lap and one hand id
ly playing with my clit underneath it. She knew that I was really putty in her manicured hands, but we both went along with the charade that I was in charge. She loped off toward the ocean, and after a while I couldn’t see her anymore. I tried to read my magazine but couldn’t concentrate, and instead closed my eyes, picturing what Jill would look like with that flimsy little shirt clinging to her tits. I didn’t have to wait long, because before I knew it, drops of water were falling onto me. I looked up and got quite the shock—she was standing in front of me wearing only the shirt, which left nothing to the imagination. I looked up and saw her holding her wet bikini bottom in front of me, and breathed a sigh of relief that we were in such a private area, or my little bad girl might have gotten us arrested.

  She thrust her chest out toward me, teasing me with her protruding nipples. I felt a throbbing in my cunt, but I let her go on with her show. She bent over and spread her legs so that I could see her pussy lips right in front of me, then turned around and used her yoga training to do a handstand. Then she walked over and planted herself between my legs, pushing her barely covered nipples right into my face before pulling the fabric apart with her hands. It tore straight down the middle so I was left facing her large breasts, the few drops of saltwater remaining on them quickly drying in the sun’s rays as she gave me the sexiest lap dance imaginable.

  “Wow,” was all I could say, looking up at her in awe. I’d underestimated my star girl, thinking she’d be too shy for this, but I should have known better. Jill never met a challenge, especially a sexy one, that she couldn’t beat. “Okay, you win. Ten out of ten. Are you ready for your reward?” She preened in front of me.

  “I don’t know. Are you?” she tossed back. So I grabbed her, lifting her up into my arms as she laughed hysterically. I brought her back to the chair and managed to lay her across my lap without both of us toppling over.

  “Your prize is a nice, hard spanking, one worthy of a girl who gets a perfect score. What do you think about that?” I asked as I squeezed her asscheeks, pinching them and spreading them apart, teasing her as I prolonged her spanking. I pretended to accidentally brush my knuckle across her exposed pussy, finding her deliciously wet. She moaned and I pushed two fingers into her mouth for her to suckle as I started spanking that perfect little ass. The sound was loud, a perfect echo. With only a few smacks I made her cheeks bright red. Her mouth was frantically sucking on my fingers, and then, as I increased the force of my smacks, she bared her teeth, and I knew I’d have marks on my fingers once we were done. I didn’t mind, though, for it gave me the chance to turn that gorgeous ass into my own personal easel. I raised my hand as high as I could and brought it down on her ass, almost toppling us as she moaned against my fingers. I pinched the part of her ass nearest her pussy, then tapped my fingers against her swollen lips.

  Finally, I took pity on her and plunged three fingers into her cunt, smiling as they slid inside in a flash. I pressed down, twisting my fingers, hardly needing to do a thing since she was already so worked up. I slid a fourth finger into her, teasing her clit with my thumb, and pulled my soggy fingers out of her mouth to grab a fistful of her windblown hair. I could feel her getting close and started moving faster, my fingers grinding into her as deeply as I could manage. Then there it was, her climax, like a shock to both our systems as she shuddered beneath me.

  After a few moments we came back to earth. She looked up at me, squinting. “Baby, I just have one question,” she said. “I know I got a perfect score, but can we have a wet T-shirt contest next time we go to the beach?”

  “Of course,” I said, and kissed her. We’d be fools not to.

  SABRA

  Lux Zakari

  I bet I could change your mind, Mrs. B,” Sabra said with a smile as we stood next to each other on the pavement. She continued to hold open the limo door for me, the gold streetlight making her dark skin seem luminescent. The night’s crisp air turned her breath into clouds.

  I stopped scrambling in my purse for her tip and froze, startled. “Change my mind about what?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but my skin prickled anyway.

  “Everything.” She purred the words as she urged me back into the limo.

  For the past few hours she’d been driving me to my meetings, just as she had the last time I’d been in the city. She’d shown up at my door with a cocked hip and a crooked, knowing smile, but had remained professional all evening. Despite that, every glance she shot me in the rearview made my heart pound; no one had ever looked at me with such intensity, such want. I was sure she’d gotten a sneaking suspicion of the sudden, inexplicit dampness between my legs by the way I’d nervously cleared my throat and looked down at my hands, clenched in my lap.

  Now we were parked across from my hotel on a quiet street, and although her duties were technically considered to be over, she clearly had other things in mind.

  Sabra closed the limo door behind her and sat down next to me on the leather seat, still wearing that mysterious smile. She pulled off her black chauffeur’s cap, shaking her braids free. Her fingers went to the giant gold buttons on the front of her uniform and she undid them slowly, watching my face for any reaction. When she opened her top, her naked breasts sprung free, presenting her already stiff nipples.

  I sucked in a gulp of air and tried to will my body to stop shaking. This all was certainly different from the last time she’d driven me to my meetings, which had just been a few months ago, when I was still married and spent the majority of the time in her limo arguing with my ex-husband on my cell phone. She’d remained silent, but I’d seen her knowing smirks in the rearview mirror. At any rate, now it looked like she wanted to take me on a different kind of ride.

  She pushed me so my back was pressed flush against the leather seat and straddled my body. She didn’t even bother to kiss me as her lips seared the delicate skin of my throat and her hands kneaded my breasts over my wool peacoat. The sensations she was creating in me clouded my head, but I still managed to grab her thin wrists and choke out, “What are you doing?”

  “Anything you want,” she said, and added with a grin, “that I want, too.” She finally kissed me, and in that moment I was reminded of smoky bonfires, wild blooming orchids, and pristine white beaches at night. I moaned as her fingers slipped inside my coat to unbutton my silk shirt.

  “I know you need this,” she continued. “I can tell.” She pushed my bra upward on my chest, exposing my small breasts, and coaxed my tiny nipples to life. They hardened beneath her touch, and her mouth left mine to travel down to my left breast. Her teeth scraped at the sensitive skin there, and I whimpered, not knowing whether to beg her for more or to beg her to stop.

  I’d never been with a woman before, aside from kissing my high school best friend once during a game of spin the bottle. But that had been an attempt to show how sexually liberated we were at the ripe age of fifteen, as well as to seduce a roomful of teenage boys who couldn’t believe their good luck.

  This—with Sabra—was significantly different. To Sabra, it seemed like men didn’t exist. At least, that was the impression I’d gotten the last time I saw her. My meeting had ended early, and I’d headed back to the limo only to find her sandwiching a coat-check girl between her body and the vehicle, oblivious to the stunned and intrigued looks that the men passing by were shooting them. It was clear that Sabra didn’t want men, she didn’t need them, and she certainly didn’t feel compelled to seduce them. There was something exciting and free about that. Still, that meant her want for me was genuine, and that frightened me.

  “I don’t know about this,” I admitted. Her hand had drifted down to the top button of my pants.

  “Why is that?” She smiled, flashing me a row of charming, semicrooked white teeth. She wasn’t taking me seriously—I could tell by the way she undid that top button and went for the second one.

  “Because.” My cheeks turned pink with shyness. “Look, I’m not—”

  “You don’t have to be anything
you don’t want to be,” she assured me as she undid the last button and pulled my pants down over my hips and off my legs, revealing my lace thong panties with the butterfly appliqué. “But one thing you are is horny. And no matter what you are or aren’t, you want me. I know that much.”

  How did she know? Did it even matter? She was right; more than right, in fact. I was feeling more excited than I ever had toward my ex-husband, a lawyer who had a mind for business and not a clue about a woman’s needs. I had a feeling that Sabra didn’t have his same problems.

  “Have you ever eaten pussy before, Mrs. B?” she whispered, her voice thick with amusement and sensuality as she slid off my lap and knelt on the floor of the limo. She lowered her head to dip her tongue inside my belly button.

  I swallowed hard. “It’s just Kent now. Rachel Kent. I’m not married anymore.”

  “Good to know,” she said, her voice still smiling. Her head moved lower, and her teeth scraped at my inner thighs. A moan of anticipation escaped my lips and intensified as her tongue slid inside the crotch of my panties. “These are very sexy panties, by the way. Too bad we have to get rid of them.”

  She dragged the thong off my legs, leaving me wearing only my coat, my unbuttoned shirt, and my bra up around my neck. I was still half-clothed, yet feeling more naked than I ever had in my life. My mouth opened to protest, but no sound came out.

  Sabra opened my legs, and the cool air of the car against my hot cunt made my legs shake. Then she bowed her head again and swept her tongue over my pussy. The feeling was so different from when Edward used to go down on me. He had been hesitant and insecure with his tongue—even a little disgusted. Sabra, however, lapped at me with the tongue of a tiger and sucked on my clit as if it were hard candy. I gripped the seat and felt the leather grow wet under my sweating hands as I writhed under her spell.