Snake padded barefoot down the terra cotta steps. He was still half stuck in the obstinate grip of dreams as the skittering clack of computer keys reached him from the salon. From somewhere beyond came the distant cry of a hungry gull. The lazy freedom of birds was always on the periphery. He stopped and closed his eyes long enough to imagine Lace’s fingers scuttling over the keys. He shut out the gulls.
A month into their arrangement and he could predict her rhythm. There was always a short flurry of pecking, then fragile silence, her fingers hovering while raw, erotic scenarios played out in her mind. Then another flurry of typing as she sifted her vision into words.
He made it to the foot of the stairs where he could see into the salon. She was sitting at the white enamel table facing the open doors to the terrace. Her back was to him and she seemed completely unaware of his presence. It wasn’t as if anyone could predict his movements enough to set their clock. He was a loose creature of habit at best.
Beyond the table where she sat, diaphanous white curtains barely moved. He paused, taking a moment to absorb the air of peace and concentration just before invading it.
She was wearing one of his thin, cotton tank tops. He’d been surprised the first time he saw her help herself to an item of his clothing. It was the kind of thing a wife or lover would do, not someone who was only sharing a house for a few months on the Iberian coast to save money. After his initial surprise, he’d grinned, surprised to realize how pleased he felt. She’d ignored his smug grin and turned her back on him, leaving the room with a flip of her hand, as if it made perfect sense she should help herself to whatever she wanted from his wardrobe.
She had a rare, ethnically ambiguous look that said her heritage could be anything – or a convergence of everything, which was probably more likely. He might have asked about it if he’d thought it were important, but he’d found himself much more amused by the idea she hadn’t been born the normal way, but set down on Earth by playful angels only to entertain themselves by twisting his mind into knots of wondering.
Sometimes the ridiculous was a much better explanation than the sublime.
As usual for the time of day, Lace was sitting at her computer with bare legs and feet, her flat heeled sandals perfectly aligned near the table’s leg. Her shoulders were squared as she sat with a straight posture, studying lines of text on the monitor. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders in a waterfall of shimmering midnight black. It was damp, and Snake knew she’d already been swimming.
He stopped, taking a moment to brace himself. His tank tops always fit her like an inadequate dress, pulling tight and thin around her spherical ass and hopeless for containing heavy breasts she never seemed to notice were in her way.
Snake took a deep breath and smiled as he thought of how she spent infuriating amounts of time dressing to conceal her paralyzing attributes whenever she went out in public. She was a borderline recluse with an intense discomfort at being stared at.
He’d been stunned enough just to connect this shy, introverted woman with the terse, to-the-point one he’d first met by email in response to her ad, and then on the phone. She’d posted a notice to share the villa for the season, stating she was a writer working on a new book, and preferred to share the space with another writer who would understand her need for quiet. Snake didn’t learn her pen name until just the morning before, and he hadn’t been able to keep the expression of near shock off his face just before the laughter hit.
For all intents and purposes, Lace was nothing like her infamous alter ego. As Serena Falcon, she was an international, underground sensation, known for writing some of the edgiest, hard core erotica anywhere. Many dismissed her stories and novels as mere pornography, but she had a loyal following who passionately disagreed and consumed her smoldering prose with a voracious hunger. And now, after what happened the morning before, Snake didn’t know how he could ever tell her he was probably the most voracious of all her fans. He’d read everything she’d published twice long before meeting her.
Until yesterday morning, Snake had all but convinced himself Lace couldn’t have been writing anything steamier than a cookbook or home decoration tips. He’d taken her for a Martha Stewart wannabe. But then, discovering he was actually sharing a villa with Serena Falcon had flipped his brain upside down.
The woman behind the infamous legend was prissy and annoying. She was irritable and infinitely impatient with Snake’s easy going attitude. He had decided was probably borderline neurotic right about the same time he realized sharing a house with her felt better than he would ever admit. Or explain.
Then he stepped on the landmine known as Serena Falcon, the woman who wrote stories that made his soul squirm and his blood boil.
His burst of laughter when she admitted her pen name had confused her. He realized she never expected him to know the first thing about her alter ego. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but it was that kind of surreal situation where none of the usual, canned reactions worked. He was stunned. She’d only admitted her identity after he decided to rattle her perfectly arranged cage and look over her shoulder while she was working. When he saw the passage of hard core sex she was writing he was speechless. He’d even recognized her style, and she was all but forced to confess her pen name.
At first, she seemed confused, then annoyed, and then her face went crimson and her eyes welled, and she stormed out of the room without a word. Snake had stood in the salon by himself for a long time afterwards, unable to reconcile the disparity in his mind. He was almost disappointed. Part of him wanted to hold onto his first impression of the prim lady writer with the crystalline public school accent, and then the complete idiocy of his behavior came over him.
Lace didn’t so much as go near her computer the entire rest of the day or evening, even after Snake had apologized and made an intentionally vague confession of how much he liked her work. He conveniently left out the part about how much. She’d merely nodded her acceptance, but then quietly admitted she’d read his one, obscure book, Fucking for Redemption.
Now he approached her quietly from behind, making just enough noise to keep from startling her as he leaned down to peer over her shoulder at her monitor.
“Good morning,” he said, close enough to her face to be a brash invasion of her personal space.
She bristled but didn’t pull back. She turned briefly to watch him read the words on her monitor in a silence only punctuated with an impatient sigh.
“I’m working under a deadline here, Snake.”
He hadn’t expected her to ooze with joy, but she was chillier than he’d hoped. She was still feeling stung from the morning before, but he couldn’t resist a deep breath full of her scent. Was it all her or the jasmine that grew everywhere?
“Just go right on ahead,” he said innocently. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
He kept his eyes on the monitor, but he felt a powerful desire to slip his hands around her body and cuddle her breasts through the thin white cotton as he sputtered apologies and declarations of awe. By now, he’d discovered she was also wearing a pair of his briefs.
“That would be like not knowing a parade was going by,” she said dryly.
Looking at the monitor, he saw she was stuck in the middle of a sentence - the worst, possible time to interrupt her: “Her centre was broiling while her moist, supple lips encircled the imposing dome of his arrogantly aroused cock. Slender, agile fingers deftly caressed the granite girth of his….”
“Okay,” he said, resisting the urge to gulp. “But, um, you spelled center
Lace felt her spine bristle and go straight as a fence post. “That’s how those of us who attended school in English speaking countries spell it,” she said crisply.
“Sorry, baby. Me no speak English. Me talk American. Don’t let me interrupt.”
“Suuuuure,” she said to his back as he walked away. And under her breath, “if you call me baby one more time I’m going to just…ugh!
He walked through the salon onto the terrace and stopped at the edge of the pool. There was a private smirk on his face. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening to the muted pecking of her fingers on the keyboard and the lone gull passing overhead. He stretched, and then pulled his T shirt off. Then he pulled the knot loose holding his light, silk drawstrings in place. They dropped around his ankles, and he felt the bold sun caress his body. He could hear Lace pause in her typing and grinned. He thought of the passage she was typing and caressed his cock briefly with his right hand. Then he raised his arms over his head and dove into the pool.
Lace kept her face toward the monitor but shifted her eyes to follow Snake’s trajectory back and forth across the length of the pool. Her fingers kept pecking at the keyboard to make it sound as if she were hard at work, but she kept watching him surreptitiously.
She gnawed her bottom lip and swore at him under her breath. He was trying to distract her on purpose. Again. When he rolled over into a backstroke, her eyes drifted toward his carelessly exposed cock even while silently admonishing herself for giving in to her lurid curiosity about a man so irresponsible and annoying.
It wasn’t normal to feel a clench in her pulse whenever he walked in the room. It had to be from sheer revulsion. He was lazy and annoying in every way she could think of. It had seemed impossible to reconcile his swaggering arrogance with the author of Fucking for Redemption, the book that had inspired her to keep writing at the lowest point of her career. She even started to doubt Snake could really be the same man who wrote the most tender yet hard core book she’d ever read.
Even worse were those times she caught him just looking at her like some kind of curiosity, as if she were something unearthly, like something more than a woman trying to make ends meet by the fruits of her fertile imagination.
At least he seemed vigilant about the food he ate, and since moving to the villa, she saw him swim at least once every day, plus his walking the whole two kilometers downhill to the café in the center of the little seaside village. Otherwise, he was just lazy and irresponsible. He claimed he went to the café to work, but the couple of times she’d seen him there, all he was doing was flirting with the waitress while he was only pretending to actually write anything down in that notebook he carried everywhere. If it weren’t for the fact he’d written her favorite work of erotica she would’ve just passed him off as a complete fraud.
It had surprised her how many people he knew by name in the village. She’d been there twice as long and didn’t know anyone’s name. No one seemed to know hers, either. At least not her real name. But she was making headway on her new book, even if he was wasting a monumental amount of valuable time and doing his best to distract her when she was trying to concentrate.
Lace knew it was unwise to spy on Snake in the pool when she was working under a deadline, especially while he was doing a naked backstroke. It was bad enough the male lead in the novel she was working on had been coming to resemble him more and more since the day he’d arrived. She was convinced this would be a problem since she was sure her readers would never want to read about such a careless and annoying protagonist. They would want more of the heroically ripped alpha males she was known for creating. Snake was a complete Alpo male, as far as she was concerned.
His cock seemed longer and thicker now than when he swam his first two or three laps. She couldn’t say when she’d seen anything so offensive and fascinating at the same time. She kept watching if for no other reason than to see how excited he would grow just from swimming laps in the pool. Lace decided a strong enough breeze would probably incite him to a rock hard, sap dripping erection. Maybe he’d get himself so worked up he’d try to fuck the patio furniture.
Despite her intense disrespect for the man, Lace’s nipples were beginning to throb with an aching sensation and gathering into tight knots against the front of Snake’s tank top. It was a simple, basic, biological response to his typically obscene, visual stimuli, she rationalized. It was nothing she had any control over, and when she looked at the practical side, feeling that edge of sensual heat nagging at her body would drive her to write as hot as her imagination would allow.
She’d have to stop borrowing his clothes, though. While he didn’t say anything about it, it did seem to attract his notice, and that was the last thing she needed when she had mountains of work to accomplish. It was just that it had been a long time since there were a man’s clothes in the house. Somewhere far back in her mind it gave her the feeling of belonging, of being wanted by someone, just as long as she didn’t think too much about whom the clothes belonged to.
She was half way to the point of day dreaming when she realized Snake had caught her peeking at him past her monitor. The second he grinned she sat up straight and trained her eyes back on the screen.
“Not fair,” she muttered under her breath. “God, what an impossible knob
She hurriedly cleared her throat and started pecking aimlessly at the keyboard in another vain attempt to appear deeply involved in her work.
She had to force herself to focus and forget she was annoyed beyond belief, but his smug, self-satisfied grin was almost enough to bring her to her feet in a flurry of foul language. He’d probably only laugh it off and make her even angrier. She couldn’t afford to go through so much emotional turmoil when she was working.
Exerting her full concentration, she set herself back to the task of finishing the sentence that had been eluding her half the morning. “Her slender, agile fingers deftly caressed the full length of his granite….monstrosity…”
No, monstrosity sounded a little overbearing for that early in the scene. She paused to think. “…Roman column of pulsing heat…”
She chuckled to herself. “That should make for some sticky knickers in the peanut gallery,” she thought. “Her slender, agile fingers deftly caressed the full length of his granite Roman column of heat, feeling his life blood pounding through his flesh with raging force. She felt as if she were sitting astride a broiling cauldron of pure need as she hastily pressed the bulbous dome of his cock snugly between the frothing lips of her…”
“Oh yeah,” Lace snickered privately, “there won’t be a dry seat in the house.”
She peered back over at Snake, still doing laps across the pool. His cock was most definitely longer and thicker now than when he’d jumped in, and Lace couldn’t help the automatic burning sensation torturing her rigid nipples. She crossed her legs and squeezed her lush thighs together.
Snake climbed out of the pool. He grinned and waved when he caught her peering up from her monitor. Then he walked around to step back onto the diving board again. His arrogant cock was showing signs of thickness and swelling. Then he stretched his sleek body, and with an audible sigh, gave his growing cock a few, casual strokes.
“Why you filthy bastard
,” she half spat under her breath.
Lace finally pushed back her chair and stood up. Leaving her sandals by her work table, she padded barefoot onto the terrace surrounding the pool. She walked slowly, giving an extra little sway to her hips while Snake stood at the end of the diving board watching her every move. She knew darn well he was waiting for the bottom hem of the tank top to ride high enough to expose her bare pussy, but she tugged the edges down. Serves you right to suffer
, she smiled to herself.
She pulled a chair around from beside the round, glass-topped table and calmly sat down, slowly crossing her smooth legs while Snake grinned openly at her. He seemed to give up any pretense of diving back in the pool and brashly stroked his naked cock, spurring himself to swell even more.
“Taking a break?”
“Oh, just a quick breather,” she sighed casually. She picked up a plastic bottle of sun block off the table and began spritzing it along her legs. “Don’t let me interrupt your…um… swim.”
“I can swim anytime,” he said, his voice growing a little huskier as his eyes followed her hands, spreading the clear lotion along her legs.
“Well I really can’t afford to be taking a break now,” she sighed dramatically. “I have sooo
much work to do.”
She sprayed her chest liberally with lotion, and then began coating her skin with her hand. She reached inside the tank top and carefully coated each of her round breasts underneath the material of Snake’s top. She’d never done such an outlandish thing before and could barely believe she was doing it now. It was as if someone else had taken over her actions. Even so, she felt a sense of pride and excitement rush through her. She had to suppress the grin that wanted to break across her face when she noted the huge spurt of growth in her housemate’s hand.
“Hm, sun block is a good idea,” he quipped as he turned to step off the diving board and approached her, his distracting erection swinging with his long strides. He didn’t stop until he was standing right beside her, letting his cock bob and weave optimistically within her reach. “I could really use some of that, too.”
“I suppose that’s why they call you Snake,” she said without thinking as she eyed the swaggering cock not so many inches from her face. She hoped he didn’t notice the way she swallowed a big gulp of air. After working half the morning on trying to describe a sexy couple making love, she was in a seriously compromised condition as it was. “You do have decidedly reptilian qualities, but Pig would seem to be a more appropriate nickname for you.”
Her pussy was beginning to ooze and throb. She wished she weren’t wearing his underclothes. She wasn’t convinced endorphins or pheromones or whatever they were actually had a scent, but she could feel them.
Snake gripped the full shank of his cock and brazenly fondled himself. “If you’d like me to cover up, then I need to ask for my clothes back. The…uh…ones you’re wearing,” he said.
The catch in his breath betrayed his cool, arrogant exterior, and knowing she could affect him this way made her pulse race hard enough to make her dizzy. Then he said something that came completely out of the blue.
“Your words changed my life,” he said, stroking his flesh, looking down at her with a dark inferno in each of his glittering eyes.
She was too speechless to admit the same thing. She felt disoriented and aching to feel the floodgates burst open in her straining cells. She barely knew what she was doing when she pointed the lotion bottle at his cock, spritzing his slowly moving hand and shaft.
“You…should be more careful in this strong sun,” she said.
“I don’t want to be careful. I want to be with you. Just you, Lace. I’m not even close to being what you think.”
She studied his face, seeing a softness and yearning she wouldn’t have thought him capable of before. She stood up and peeled off the tank top. Then she pushed off his briefs, revealing the smooth pout of her barbered pussy as she walked toward the edge of the pool. “I can’t afford to get distracted now,” she said absently, as if she were walking through a bizarre dream. “I’m almost finished with the last chapter.”
She dove into the pool and started backstroking laps back and forth, letting her full breasts jut up toward Snake’s attentive gaze. The look on his face was full of hunger and longing as stroked his well-oiled cock and watched her swim.
Lace didn’t know how much longer she could hold out. Before she had a chance to follow any of her thoughts to a logical conclusion, Snake dove into the water from the side, his unwieldy erection snapping out as he hit the water.
“Oh, that’s gotta hurt,” Lace chuckled.
Snake surfaced beside her and immediately gathered her into his long arms, crushing her against his body so her breasts and his aching cock were trapped in the middle.
“You’re not going back to work until we finish what you started,” he announced brashly.
She was about to compare to some other member of the animal kingdom, but he kissed her before she could think of one that would be insulting enough. She melted against his body, which already felt like it was melting right back against hers. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, but he managed to make kissing her feel like something heartbreakingly tender and deliriously naughty at the same time. He was a dirty kisser. A hungry one. She wanted to lose herself in the whirlpool of his need when she felt his broad hands fan across the spheres of her ass. She lifted her feet and wrapped her thighs around him, trapping his cock against his body with her achingly hot pussy.
He hoisted her onto the edge of the pool and kissed each of her open, wet thighs, then planted a long, sucking kiss on her distended pussy.
The words spilled out of her on their own as he kissed her open pussy again, sliding his tongue upwards along the length of her scarlet slash. She sucked air and touched the side of his face.
Mixed with the intense, building pleasure was a streak of inner pain. His touch and hunger laid open her raw desire to love with all her heart and soul. To release the yearning spirit bottled up inside her. To trust someone without reservation. To roam and play in the ripe fields of her imagination.
To be, simply, her.
It shouldn’t have been happening that way. She knew later on she would be gripped with remorse, but she was equally convinced if his tongue left her pussy at that very moment she’d be in danger of strangling him with her thighs.
She moaned and yowled and ground her pussy against his mouth, clutching the sides of his face with both hands as he devoured her flowing dew. He pushed her legs higher and wider and let his tongue swipe across her pouting rim just before pushing inside her aching pussy. Then he stopped suddenly, and pushed himself up out of the pool to sit beside her. He took her face in his hands and stared intently at her.
“I’m begging you for a fresh start,” he said seriously. Even urgently.
She reached for his hot, pulsating cock. He felt so hard and yet so silken. Her hand slid down the length of his rigid shaft, fondly caressing his balls before traveling back upward. He cupped her wet breast in his palm and began kneading her gently, rolling her swollen nipple within his fingertips.
They spent a long time just kissing, Lace stroking his raging cock while his hands alternated attending to her lush breasts and ravenous pussy. Finally, he pushed her back, and she knelt with her back toward him, leaning forward and down to clutch at the slate tiles while her ass and thighs were splayed before him.
“Beginning of what?” she asked, as if his question still hung in the air. He groaned as she felt his blunt cock nudge between her slickened sexlips.
“I don’t know, exactly. Just something that has everything to do with you and me.”
As he pressed deeper, her willing sheath adjusted to him, and she felt herself gradually fill up with pure, hot flesh. Thick, rigid and pulsing with life. She felt him gripping her hips while he drew his long cock backward and thrust gracefully back into her.
“Urgh,” she groaned at the force of his thrust.
She reached underneath herself and touched his balls, then her clit. She was soaked, swollen and raging with frothing need. She was his, and he was hers. Everything else was a game.
He reared back and thrust into her again, harder than the time before. Then again. She gnawed her full, bottom lip and heard herself whimper as he gave her cheek a playful spank and rocked his hips until he was pumping his raging cock through her core with deep, needful thrusts.
She felt the need inside him. It was in his desperate touch and the unrelenting drive of his hard, powerful cock. It was in his desperate gasps for air. She rolled her hips at him, grinding at him with need for so much more than the hot flesh driving her through space. He was groaning her name in desperate syllables, pumping into her with voracious force, and when his cock exploded, he pressed the tip of one finger just inside her rim.
It was as if their bodies disappeared together in a shower of lightening.
Moments later, they slipped back down in the pool standing side by side in the water. Lace kept searching for something to say in the awkwardness of the silence that fell between them. She didn’t know what to think when Snake inched closer and put his arm around her, pulling her snugly into his naked, wet body.
“I suppose we could forget this ever happened,” she finally said.
Snake pulled her around to face him, flagrantly grinding his cock against her skin. He was already showing signs of getting hard again.
“If you even attempt to forget this, I promise I’ll take every possible opportunity to remind you,” he said. Then he rubbed his bare body across her nipples and imitated the staggered gasps she made when she came.
“Good god, you’re thoroughly disgusting,” she drawled, feeling the smirk playing just beneath the surface.
“And you’re prissy,” he told her. “You can’t even spell right.”
She laughed without restraint, until he started laughing, too. She couldn’t remember when she’d laughed that selflessly. Suddenly he kissed her throat and started caressing the buoyant weight of breasts as they bobbed in the water. She reached for his cock, stroking him as he thickened and throbbed in her dainty hand.
“I suppose you’re planning to do something entirely debauched and filthy to me now, hmm?”
“You have no idea,” he groaned, pumping his rigid cock into the stroke of her hand.
“So this is what you meant by a fresh start?” she asked, her pussy quickly returning to the broiling point.
“Call it whatever you want,” he said, tweezing her nipples firmly. “Long as you don’t call it the end.”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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