Lydia's Dad

Delia yawned as she opened her eyes; another sunny day dawned at the beach house. She didn’t bother sitting up as she stretched her arms above her head and yawned again. She was still tired.

When she fell asleep she was wrapped in Grant’s arms, but she woke alone; which was somewhat disappointing. It would be nice to wake up in the morning and have Grant Turner laying next to you with nothing but a smile on.

That would be the perfect beginning to a perfect day.

What would come next, she wondered?

Obviously a quickie.

Then breakfast. Then sex on the kitchen floor, sex in the hot tub, sex on the beach, lunch, sex against the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, sex in the pool, sex on Grant’s desk upstairs, dinner, then retiring to the bedroom for the night. And a little championship fucking.

Delia giggled; that would be a perfect day.

She finally got up, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold wood floor. Maybe she’d have some variation today and not go out on the beach. Her break from school entitled her to a little lounging around the house in her pajamas.

Which is why she didn’t bother getting dressed before she left her room.

Lydia sat at the kitchen table slicing a banana into a bowel of cereal; Will and Patrick were standing over the stove pouring and stirring something in a skillet.

“I guess I slept in,” Delia said taking a seat at the table.

“How’s your head?” Lydia asked.

Delia shrugged. “For some reason, it’s fine.”

“I thought mine was going to explode,” Will said still stirring whatever was in the skillet.

“How long have you been up?” Delia asked him.

“Woke up at freaking six-thirty and couldn’t go back to sleep,” he said.

“Eggs?” Patrick offered Delia.

“Thank-you,” she said when Patrick handed her a full plate.

He and Will joined the girls at the table and everyone began to eat.

“So why’d you wake up at six-thirty?” Delia asked.

“Mr. Turner’s alarm clock woke me.”

“You know I’m sure dad wouldn’t object to you guys calling him ‘Grant’ once in a while,” Lydia said.

“We’re just being respectful,” Delia said.

“That reminds me,” Lydia said. “I had the weirdest dream last night. I don’t really remember it just that someone kept saying ‘Mr. Turner! Mr. Turner!’ and yelling and stuff.”

Delia choked on her eggs.

“Are you okay?” Patrick asked smacking her back.

“Yeah,” she said and quickly got up to get some juice. “Um, I don’t think I’m in the mood for sand and sun today.”

“I was thinking that myself,” Lydia said. “Let’s go shopping!”

“Gee, that sounds like fun,” Will said.

“I think that’s exactly what we need to do,” Delia said sitting back down. “I want to get a new bathing suit.”

“Maybe it’ll be fun after all,” Patrick said with a smirk.

It was almost noon by the time everyone had showered, dressed, and loaded in the car. The mall was about twenty minutes away which gave them plenty of time to discuss the previous night.

“So what’s it going to take for you guys to do some more kissing?” Lydia asked from the driver’s seat.

“An alternate universe,” Will said from the back seat.

“I didn’t think we were talking about this anymore?” Patrick said.

“I think you two are missing a golden opportunity here,” Delia said. “Isn’t it obvious that Lydia and I would turn into total sluts for a little boy on boy action?”

“And isn’t it obvious that Patrick and I aren’t fucking queer?” Will said.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Patrick said.

“He has a gay cousin,” Delia said to Lydia.

“What if we considered your idea?” Lydia asked looking at Will through the rearview mirror.

“What idea?” he asked.

“Your group activity. . . .” she said.

“Ohh!” he said finally realizing what she meant. “Are you serious?”

“Are you?” Delia asked her.

“Am I included in this?” Patrick asked.

“When did you decide all this?” Delia asked.

“Whoa, everybody just shut the fuck up for a minute,” Will said. “Lydia, what were you saying?”

“If Delia and I agreed to it, what will you and Patrick do for us?”

“Name it!” Will said eagerly. “That is, short of having a dick anywhere inside me.”

“Do I have a say in this?” Patrick asked.

“And me?” Delia said.

“Why don’t we just make it a foursome?” Lydia said.

“I think we need to keep in mind that I don’t plan on sleeping with Will. Ever,” Delia said.

“We’d have a lot to work out,” Lydia said.

“Is anyone here remotely serious?” Patrick asked. “No one finds it a little, oh, I don’t know, unsettling that my ex-girlfriend and best friend are making plans to fuck alongside their current girlfriend and best friend, respectively?”

“Come on Patrick,” Lydia said. “What happens on spring break stays on spring break.”

“I don’t know when Lydia became such a whore, but I’m not complaining,” Will said to Patrick.

“Why would you? Two incredibly hot chicks, for some damn reason, are throwing themselves at you.”

“Listen,” Lydia said, “you boys work it out, okay?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Delia asked Lydia.

Lydia giggled. “I bet we could get them to do just about anything.”

“Yeah, but look at what we have to do,” Delia said.

“Let’s talk about it later,” Lydia said as she pulled into a parking place in the mall lot.

They went to several stores, keeping their spending and carrying to a minimum until they came to what Lydia proclaimed to be her most favorite shop.

“Is this where you got that thing with the strappy things?” Will asked as they went into the lingerie store.

“What thing?” Lydia asked.

“That you had for my birthday?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh that,” she smiled. “Maybe.”

“Then this is my favorite shop too,” he said.

“Well, I have no use for anything in here,” Delia said casting Patrick a look of contempt. “Let’s go to the book store,” she said.

“We’ll be here,” Lydia said and Delia and Patrick took off.

Lydia looked around a bit, going back and forth between set-ups and displays; Will obediently following her, liking everything he saw.

“Are you going to get something?” he asked with hope in his eyes.

“How about you buy me this?” she asked, holding up a red, frilly barely-there nightie.

Will looked at the price tag. “Seventy-five bucks? Fuck that,” he said.

“Would you change your mind if I modeled it for you?” she asked with a leer.

“It could certainly help,” he said with a nod.

Will followed, as Lydia went to the dressing rooms in the back.

“I’ll call when I’m ready,” she said, then disappeared into the stall.

Will waited outside the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He had already had more sex in three days this week than in the two weeks proceeding their break; there was a possibility, however tiny it may be, that he was getting a threesome; and now Lydia was about to parade around in front of him in a lacy, red Band-Aid. Spring break was being oh so kind to him.

“Ready,” Lydia called out.

Will didn’t have to be told twice. He quickly looked around to make sure no salespeople were watching, then crept inside the dressing room.

His mouth fell open and something that sounded like air being let out of tires escaped his lips.

“Do you think it looks all right?” Lydia asked with false modesty.

Will nodded, swallowing.

A red satin bra barely held back Lydia’s breast, strips of satin attached the top to a bikini bottom, and garters hung loosely mid-way down her thighs. She hadn’t bothered putting on the red, frilly see-through robe.

“Well?” she asked.

“Sold,” Will said, his eyes still on her body.

Lydia grinned. “I thought you might say that. Now scoot so I can take it off,” she said, ushering him out the door.

“I don’t think so,” he said standing firm.

“You don’t think what?”

“That I’m going anywhere,” he said walking forward until his arms were around Lydia’s waist and his lips were on hers.

Lydia kissed him back for several seconds before pulling away. “Will? This isn’t a secluded beach, we’re in the middle of the mall.”

“Don’t tell me that doesn’t make you want it all the more?” he said with a grin.

“Even so. . . .” she said, matching his grin.

“I want to eat this,” he said, sliding his hands up her stomach to cup both her satin-covered breasts.

Lydia closed her eyes. “Take it off,” she said.

“With pleasure,” Will said. His tongue thrust back in her mouth while his hands unhooked her top and carefully slid it and the rest of the nightie off her body.

“What if somebody finds us?” she asked as Will’s hands went back to exploring her body.

“Then we’re fucked,” he said. “But that’s a chance we’ll just have to take.”

Lydia nodded and Will began kissing down her body until his lips closed over a nipple. “Mmm,” she said letting her head fall back. He brought his other hand up to tease her left nipple while his mouth ravished the right. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” she asked

“No,” he said, dropping to his knees, “but that’s the whole point.”

Will trailed his tongue down Lydia’s stomach and slid his hands down her sides and hips to rest on her thighs, then he slowly slid them apart.

Lydia’s eyes stayed shut and she gasped when Will’s tongue slowly slid up the length of her sex. Her knees buckled and she knew there was no way she was going to be able to stand the whole time.

Will thrust his tongue up inside Lydia; his hands now holding on to the backs of her upper thighs. He picked up a steady rhythm and soon had Lydia gasping out.

Biting down on her lower lip to keep from crying out, Lydia opened her eyes. The site of Will’s head bobbing up and down between her legs was enough to shoot sparks of desire all through her body.

“Will,” she moaned, “I-I can’t stand-”

Immediately Will stood up and helped her down on the seat in the little room. He pushed her legs apart again and got back on his knees, instantly dropping his head back between her legs.

“Will,” Lydia moaned, both her hands flying to his head. She pushed him into her, the need for his mouth overwhelming.

His mouth was unrelenting, his tongue plunging in Lydia’s heat as far as it would go.

“God yes!” she cried, pulling on his short hair.

“Shhh,” he shushed her, then continued thrusting his tongue inside her.

“Wiiiiiiiill,” she moaned. She tightened her legs around his head and pressed her head into the wall behind her.

Will shifted on his knees and began stabbing his tongue at her clit before finally taking it in his mouth and sucking intensely.

With a shriek Lydia came, slamming her head into the wall and grabbing onto the edge of the seat for support.

Will stayed on the floor, keeping his mouth where it was until Lydia had composed herself again.

“That was so good,” she said pulling him up on her. “God Will. . . .”

“Mmm, it was good,” he said and kissed Lydia.

Their mouths stayed attached for several minutes. Lydia’s hand made its way down Will’s shorts and into his boxers to stroke his growing erection.

“Baby,” Will groaned leaning into her. “Harder.”

She increased the pressure of her hand until he was rock-hard and gasping out.

“Lydia,” he sighed.

“Hmm?” she said with a smile. She released him from her hand and pulled out of his shorts.

“Hey-” he protested.

Lydia placed her finger against his lips. “We have to be quiet, remember?” she said.

Will nodded. “Yeah, yeah, can I please fuck you now?” he sighed.

“You do know how to romance a girl,’ Lydia said bringing Will’s shirt up over his head.

“I’m sorry was that too crass for you?” he teased.

“It was,” she said dropping her head to suck on his nipple.

“Uh huh, I see. But the fact that I just ate you out on the floor of a dressing room in a mall is high class, hm?”

“Will,” she said and smacked his shoulder.

“Come on, you know this dirty talk’s only getting you hotter . . . wetter . . .ready for me,” he said kissing along her jaw.

“I was already ready for you,” she said and tugged his mouth up to hers in a heated kiss. Her tongue swirled around in his mouth twirling around with his own.

Without breaking the kiss Will slipped off Lydia and onto the seat, then pulled her on top of him. Her hands fell to his waist and she pulled his shorts, then boxers, down, loosening his cock.

“I’m so fucking hard Lydia,” Will groaned in her ear. “See what you do to me?”

Lydia reached up and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Now do something to me,” she said.

Will gripped Lydia’s hips and raised her slightly up, then back down on his jutting cock.

Lydia gasped and locked her hands on Will’s shoulders.

Will’s hands fastened to Lydia’s hips and he groaned as she began moving up and down on him.

Her head fell to Will’s neck and her eyes shut tightly. She held fast to his hips and rode him up and down, her moans getting louder and louder with each thrust.

“Will,” she panted.

“Lydia,” he moaned back, his grip on her sides like iron.

Lydia’s moans and groans filled the small space of the dressing room. She held onto Will tightly, slamming her body into his over and over again.

She was growing noisier by the second and Will’s attempts to silence her with his tongue were all but failing. He just knew someone was going to come banging on the door any minute. However, at that particular moment, he couldn’t bother to care as Lydia closed around him again and again.

“Wiiiill,” she moaned again, closing her teeth over his ear lobe.

He felt her clench around him and knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Taking her head in his hands, he kissed her, just in time to stifle a cry as she shuddered and came with a final thrust.

But it soon became Will’s turn to make noise.

Another thrust and he was gone, breaking the kiss and yelling out something inaudible.

He and Lydia both fell against the wall with a collective sigh.

Delia sat on a bench outside of the bookstore, watching Patrick as he stood in line to pay. Despite all the talking she did with Lydia and promising to Patrick that she’d take some time to think over their relationship, she really hadn’t. She already admitted that she still had feelings for him, strong feelings, but so what? She had feelings for Grant too, didn’t she? Which was nothing but trouble. It wouldn’t do at all to start thinking of Grant in any way other than someone she fucked.

The sensible thing was to get back with Patrick.

Right? She did still love him.

And why wouldn’t she? Apart from the normal “good boyfriend” qualities like being considerate and sweet and fun to be with, Delia thought Patrick quite the hottie. As much as she and Lydia were alike, Patrick and Will were similar too with broad shoulders and nicely defined chests; but it ended there.

Patrick’s dark hair and eyes gave him a hint of mystery, Delia always thought. Like he was always thinking deeply about something, but what that was, no one could ever figure out. Add to that, smarts and a couple of tattoos and Delia was in love the moment she saw him.

But. . . .

But no matter how attracted she was to Patrick, it was tenfold with Mr. Turner. And if getting back with Patrick meant no more playing with him, then there was just no way Delia was going to let it happen. Though Patrick did have a way of making people do what he wanted. . . .

“Ready?”

Delia stood and saw Patrick approaching. “Yeah,” she said.

They met Lydia and Will coming out of the lingerie store, both looking a little more cheerful than Delia remembered. After hitting a few more shops and amassing several bags they had a late lunch in the mall and headed back to the house.

Leaving Will and Patrick to carry in everything, the girls quickly went inside, deciding to salvage a few hours of sun on the beach.

“What are you doing here?” Lydia asked, seeing her dad sitting at the kitchen table.

“I live here,” he said.

“You’re supposed to be off supporting my shoe habit,” she said.

“I have a meeting with the lawyer later and I took the rest of the day off.”

Lydia frowned. “What kind of meeting?”

“Just standard,” he said. “Your mother won’t be there.”

“Hey,” Will said as he and Patrick came inside. “Where do you want these?”

“I’ll take them,” Lydia said. “Come on, let’s change and hit the beach,” she said to Will.

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

“Delia?” Patrick asked, still holding her bags.

“Come on,” she said and motioned to the stairs.

Patrick followed Lydia and Will, but Delia quickly turned back around.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said to Grant, casting him a smirk, before heading upstairs herself.

She put her new things away, but didn’t bother changing into her swimsuit. Grant was home for the rest of the day and Delia wasn’t about to miss any opportunity to be with him.

A knock sounded at her door and she knew exactly who it was.

“Yes, Patrick?” she said.

The door opened and Patrick stuck his head in. “Are you going to show off that new suit or what?” he asked with a smile.

“Eventually. But I think I’m going to stay up here a while and think things out, okay? Maybe we’ll do something tonight. I just need a little time to myself.”

“Sure,” he said looking a little disappointed. “You’re not avoiding me, are you?”

Delia shook her head with a smile. “I’m doing this for you. Us.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Let Lydia know; tell her I’ll be down a little later.”

Patrick nodded and left.

Well, that had stung a little. She didn’t like lying to them all, especially Patrick because she did still have feelings for him, but they weren’t leaving her with much of a choice. However, she had plenty of time to feel guilty later, now she had other plans.

She found Grant in the family room when she got back downstairs. He sat on the couch with his briefcase spread out, reading some sort of paper. Delia thought he looked tired, then smiled as she realized he didn’t get all that much sleep last night.

“You just going to stand there?”

Delia snapped back to attention; Grant was looking at her. “Hi there,” she said.

“Afternoon,” he said back.

“So, you took the rest of the day off, huh?”

Grant nodded. “And you’re not beaching it up?”

“The beach will be there this time tomorrow,” she said smirking and walking over to him. “But you won’t.” She climbed on top of him and slid her arms around his neck.

“What about your boy?”

“I’m spending some time alone to think things over. Which means there’s plenty of time to fuck me senseless.” Without waiting for an answer, Delia kissed him.

He kissed back.

“God,” she moaned after they pulled apart, “why do you do this to me?”

“What?” he asked, kissing along her jaw and chin.

“Make me melt into a puddle; I could take you now.”

“Maybe we should go upstairs,” he whispered, kissing beside her ear.

Immediately Delia got up and pulled Grant toward the stairs.

Once in Grant’s room it only took seconds for Delia to have him pinned under her, both his suit jacket and shirt gone.

“Wait-” he said as Delia started unbuttoning his pants.

“Wait?” she asked, dropping her head and licking in his bellybutton.

“Uh, I was going to wear this to my meeting,” he said, picking up his shirt, “and it wrinkles like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Shall I hang it up for you, sir?” Delia asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I’d certainly appreciate it.”

She slipped off Grant and carried the shirt and jacket over to the closet. Opening the door, she searched for an empty hanger, but couldn’t find one. But she managed to find something else.

“What’s this?” she asked, pulling out a slightly worn-looking uniform

“What’s it look like?” he said.

“You were in the military?”

“The Navy,” he said sitting up.

“I didn’t know,” she said. “That’s like, the hottest thing ever.”

“It is?”

Delia nodded. “You in a uniform . . . . Oh will you put it on?” she said with excitement.

“What?”

“I bet it still fits. Please, please, please!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? God, you’d be hot. Come on!”

“Not happening, Delia.”

“If you put this on,” she said lowering her voice, “I will do absolutely anything you want.”

He crooked his finger at her motioning her to him.

Delia put both the uniform and his shirt and jacket on the nearby chair and went back over to him.

“Hmm?” she said, looking over him.

Grant pulled her down on top of him. “I think you’d do anything I wanted anyway.”

“Well,” she said with a grin, “maybe you’re right.”

In less than a minute they were both naked.

Grant flipped Delia over to her back and she reached her arms out, wrapping them around him, welcoming him as he sank down on top of her. Their lips touched and they kissed. Delia thrust her tongue upward, anxious to meet Grant’s.

Grant’s hands caressed Delia’s body, his fingers stroking everywhere he could reach. With every touch of his strong hands, she gasped and moaned into his mouth, making him all the more harder.

He cupped her breast and he let his fingertips lightly trace over the nipple, causing her to arch into him.

“Mmm,” Delia moaned breaking the kiss and threading her fingers through his hair.

“Hmm?” he asked her while his lips trailed down her neck.

“Your hands are so- ” Grant’s lips closed over her nipple and she moaned out again.

He chuckled and sucked her nipple deep in his mouth, using his tongue from beneath in a stabbing motion. She moaned again, arching her back up off the bed and Grant grinned at how sensitive she was.

“So what?” he asked, bringing his left hand up to cup her other breast while his tongue continued to lash out at her. His fingers twisted the pink nub, squeezing tenderly, while his mouth released Delia’s other nipple. He slipped his tongue back out and slowly, teasingly licked it.

Delia’s fingers gripped Grant’s hair, pushing his head to her. A cry escaped her lips as Grant gently bit down on the sensitive bud. He tugged at it with his blunt teeth, allowing more and more of her breast to fill his mouth. Her body arched up again, needing more contact with his incredible mouth.

Grant suddenly pulled away from Delia, letting his hand drop from her.

“Mr. Turner,” she whined, “I could probably-”

“Not yet,” he interrupted.

She pouted. “But you feel so-” she stopped short when she felt his hands abruptly slide apart her thighs. A smile spread over her face, as Grant fit himself between her legs.

His mouth kissed its way down her stomach while his arms hooked themselves behind her knees. Bending his head down lower, Grant dipped his tongue inside her sex, tasting her.

Delia cried out and her hands fell to Grant’s head, grasping at his hair.

He leisurely stroked her up and down with his tongue, thoroughly appreciating each moan that sounded from her lips. He drove deeper into her, seeking her out. His lips found her clit and he sipped it in his mouth, gently sucking on it. Grant chuckled as Delia cried out again.

Delia’s eyes were tightly shut and she shoved her back into the mattress of the bed, moaning with each forceful stab of Grant’s tongue. Her hands stroked his head, holding him to her, keeping his mouth where she so desperately needed it to be. She wriggled under him, unable to keep her body still. His mouth was so amazing; she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to last. His glorious tongue was buried deep inside her and yet he pushed farther.

“Mr. Turner,” she moaned, pressing her head against the pillows.

His teeth tenderly closed over her clit and Delia came with a cry, tightening her legs around his head. He kept his mouth on her, licking and sucking, as her body shuddered under him.

A minute later Delia opened her eyes, her body still and relaxed.

“Hi,” he said placing a kiss on her chin.

Delia grinned and brought her hands up to Grant’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe that line about not having done that in a long time.”

“Well, I guess it’s like riding a bike,” he said.

“Poor Mr. Turner,” she said, “this nasty divorce has been killer on your love life, hasn’t it?”

“You can’t even imagine,” he groaned kissing her shoulder.

“Well, I want to make it up to you,” she said, placing a kiss on his lips.

“You have been,” he said kissing back.

“Mrs. Turner’s loss seems to be my incredible gain.”

“My gain,” he said kissing her again.

“Mmm,” Delia moaned at Grant’s plunging tongue. She eased him over onto his back without breaking the kiss and climbed on top of him, letting her thighs straddle his waist.

“Damn but I need this,” he said when her mouth left his to kiss down his neck.

“Rough half day?” she asked, her tongue coming out to taste his skin.

“I just need it,” he said.

“Yeah, you don’t want to show up at that meeting all pent up and tense.” She said, continuing to kiss down his body, stopping and sucking when she got to his nipples.

“Not at all,” he sighed as her mouth attacked his body.

Delia went lower, running her tongue down his ribs and the muscles of his abs, past his bellybutton and down farther until his engorged cock was in her mouth.

Sighing out, Grant let his hands fall to the bed where they each gripped onto the sheets. Her hot, wet mouth went up and down on him, sucking for everything he was worth. He tried to suppress his moans but it was no use; her tongue was too talented, her lips too sweet.

Delia sucked back down his cock, then released him all together. He began to protest but quickly stopped when her tongue began bathing his rigid flesh. Up and down she licked him, avoiding the sensitive head each time.

Grant thought he was going to go out of his mind. He dug at the bed and pressed his head hard into the pillow, unable to keep from groaning deeply.

“Delia,” he cried, his voice husky and nothing but sex.

Smiling, she relented and stabbed her tongue out over the head of his cock, licking it like a lollipop.

Grant gasped out and let go of the sheets, his hands immediately falling down to tangle in Delia’s hair.

Having made him wait long enough, Delia sucked the head of Grant’s cock in her mouth.

Straight away Grant’s grip on her hair tightened and he thrust up in her mouth.

Delia sucked harder and swirled her tongue around and around until Grant came with an agonized cry and a buck of his hips.

She sat up, bracing her hands on Grant’s heaving chest and looked at him, making a spectacle out of licking her lips.

His eyes closed and a grin spread over his face. “I need to not talk for a minute.”

“Then don’t,” she said bending down and kissing his chest.

“God, that’s what I need.”

“What?”

“Getting blown by a twenty-one year old.”

Delia grinned. “Mr. Turner . . . who knew you were so naughty?”

“Maybe I’m going crazy in my old age.”

“Lucky for me,” she said, then kissed him.

Their mouths stayed joined for several minutes with Delia’s hands stroking everything she could reach; including the organ between his legs.

With a sigh, Grant flipped her over to her back and fit himself comfortably over top of her. He broke off the kiss and inched his lips down her body until they were blissfully sucking on a perky nipple.

“Mmm,” Delia moaned dropping her hand to Grant’s head. “I want you inside me.”

Grant continued sucking on her.

“Mr. Turner, I need you,” she whined arching her body up to his.

He released her from his mouth and looked up at her. “Say it again,” he said then kissed her neck.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s been so long since someone’s needed me,” he said kissing up to her ear.

“I need you every minute of the day,” she moaned. “Please . . . now.”

Grant slid his hands down to her hips and grasped onto her, then thrust himself inside her.

Delia’s eyes rolled back in her head as Grant’s abundant hardness filled her.

“Delia,” he moaned in her ear, “you feel so good.”

She groaned as he filled her. Pushing her head into the pillows, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her heels dug into his back and she moaned, his forceful strokes reaching deep inside of her.

His rhythm was remarkable; the way he hit every spot, touched every nerve, swelled and expanded inside of her. He knew just how to thrust, the exact position to tilt her hips to get even deeper, the way to swivel his own hips to make her scream.

“Mr. Tur-” she cut herself off with a cry, arching her body upward and pushing her head into the pillows again. God, he was so deep and so hard, Delia thought she was going to die from the pleasure of it all.

Her nails dug in Grant’s back as she tightly held him to her. His tongue dipped in her mouth and his hips continued their frenzied rhythm. Another thrust and she was gone, crying out as she came. She let her hands fall from Grant’s back onto the bed and her body grew limp underneath his.

Grant kept sliding into her, the closer he got, the harder he went until with a deep groan, he came, collapsing on top of her.

“Don’t even think of moving,” she said.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he sighed.


“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Lydia said, stretched out on a lawn chair beside the pool, “I love just lying on the beach all day, but it’s not exactly the thrill of a lifetime.”

“And the clubs aren’t exactly slamming during the week,” Will said.

“So what can we do?” Patrick asked.

“Shopping was pretty fun today,” Will said with a smirk.

“Since when do you like to shop?” Patrick asked.

Will shrugged. “I’ve decided to be open-minded about such things.”

“What-did you have sex in the dressing room or something?” Patrick jokingly asked.

“Hey, there’s Delia,” Lydia quickly said.

Delia closed the sliding glass doors and walked over to where everyone was sitting, then plopped down on a
chair herself. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“We were just trying to figure out some stuff to do,” Lydia said.

“I don’t know why Lydia decided to come here for break; she knew there’d be nothing to do,” Will said.

“Uh, maybe because it’s free,” Lydia said.

“But everything’s fucking closed,” he said.

“We could always go to the movies,” Delia offered.

“Hey,” Will said, “too bad the wax museum’s closed. I loved that place.”

“What are you talking about?” Patrick asked.

“Dad used to play golf with this man who owned the wax museum in town,” Lydia said. “I got to work there one summer and it was a lot of fun.”

“It’s closed?” Patrick asked.

“The owners moved away and only come back for the summer.”

“Wait a minute,” Patrick said sitting up, “you have a key don’t you?”

“Well, they gave dad one when they first moved away in case there was ever a problem or something. Why?”

“How cool would it be to have that place to ourselves?” he asked. “It’s huge.”

“Oh yeah,” Lydia said sarcastically. “We’d be in serious trouble if we got caught.”

“Well, techinally,” Patrick said, “it wouldn’t be breaking and entering since you have a key.”

“And who’s going to see us anyway?” Patrick asked.

“Someone could,” Lydia said.

“But they won’t,” Patrick said. “Come on, we’ll be really careful.”

“What if we get caught though?”

“We’ll . . . we’ll say that you worked there last summer and forgot something,” Will said.

“Oh that’s brilliant,” Delia said.

“Well, who gives a shit?” Will said. “We’re not gonna get caught. It’ll be fine. You love that place, Lydia.

Don’t you want your own personal tour?”

“What do you think, Delia?” Lydia asked.

Delia shrugged. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay,” Lydia said. “But we’ll have to wait until tonight.”


Several hours later they were back inside, rummaging around the kitchen for dinner. They decided to wait until dark to go to the wax museum; that way all the other shops near it would be closed.

“We could make pasta?” Lydia said, staring up in a cabinet of food.

“I can do Italian,” Delia said.

“I’m sure you have,” Lydia said with a grin.

“Hey, I’m not the one arranging an orgy,” Delia said filling a pot with water.

“Yeah, we were supposed to talk about that,” she said opening the package of pasta. “Hang on.” She stuck her head in the family room where Will and Patrick were playing video games. “Is pasta okay with you two?”

They grunted and Lydia assumed that to mean “yes.”

“So what exactly do you have in mind?” Delia asked when Lydia came back over to the stove.

“Being with two guys would be pretty cool, don’t you think?”

“I do think,” Delia agreed.

“So I understand Patrick wanting to be with two girls and I’d prefer you being the other one over some new chick.”

“You’re possibly the most generous girlfriend ever.”

“I mean, I don’t want another girl all over him or anything, which is why you’d be perfect.”

“You’re making my point for me,” Delia said. “You know I think Patrick’s hot and all but I don’t want to do with him.”

“And I don’t want you to,” Lydia said grabbing a jar of sauce from the cabinet.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re after,” Delia said sitting at the table. “The water’s boiling.”

Lydia set the jar on the table and picked up the bag of pasta. “I don’t know, I think he just likes the thought of two girls being there. I don’t think he actually wants to have sex with someone else.” She dumped the pasta into the pot, then took a seat at the table. “Which would totally be out of the question anyway.”

“So my part would be . . . what?”

Lydia shrugged. “Hanging out on the bed? Shirtless? I don’t know,” she laughed. “A few triple kisses maybe.”

“It’s not very fair to Patrick though, is it?”

“But he’s not your boyfriend anymore, remember?”

“He eventually might be.”

“Is that definite?”

“I don’t know,” Delia sighed. “I’m doing all this thinking and I’m not getting anywhere.”

The knob rattled on the kitchen door and a second later Grant was inside.

“Hey, how’d it go?” Lydia asked.

“Okay,” Grant said taking a seat at the table. “It was just routine.”

“You know maybe if you met with mom a little more, you wouldn’t even need lawyers,” she said pouring the jar of sauce into another pot.

“And you don’t think I’ve tried that?”

“Have you?” she asked, annoyance in her voice.

Grant stood. “Why don’t I just get out of your way here.”

“No, wait,” Delia said, then cast Lydia a stern look. “We were just making dinner. You should stay.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” he said.

“Lydia?” Delia said firmly.

“It’s his house,” she said with a shrug.

“You’re right, it is,” Delia said, then turned to Grant. “It’ll be done in just a minute.”

“Well, it’ll be nice to have someone cook for me again,” he said.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before. . . .” Lydia mumbled.

“Delia, will you excuse us for a minute?” Grant said rather tersely.

“Sure,” she said and quickly left the room.

“You don’t need to speak to me like I’m solely responsible for the divorce,” he said to Lydia.

Lydia stirred her sauce. “I’m not allowed to be upset about this?”

“Yes, of course,” Grant said. “But it’s not fair to take it out on me.”

“Well, who then?” she asked, turning to him.

“May I suggest your mother?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to pick sides.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Are you kidding? Mom already thinks I have by coming here. But I don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” she sighed, then walked back over to the family room. “Dinner’s ready!” she yelled.


After everyone was finished eating, Lydia went upstairs to find the key to the wax museum, while the others distracted Grant. Delia couldn’t help but laugh as the boys went on about sport teams and recent scores. If they weren’t there she could have kept Grant distracted for hours. Which is just what she was hoping to do later. He was like crack or something, one hit and you’re hooked for life. And no matter how much you got, you always wanted more.

“Ready,” Lydia said bounding down the steps

“Going out?” Grant asked.

“Maybe,” Lydia shrugged.

“Maybe?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re just going out. See ya,” she said going for the door without waiting for the others.

Once downtown Lydia parked in a parking garage that was a few yards away from the museum and they walked, eagerly awaiting what the night had in store.

“The key fits the backdoor in the alley,” Lydia said as they passed the front entrance.

The others followed Lydia obediently and they had no trouble getting in.

They found themselves in a back hallway but Lydia soon led them to the front lobby.

“Okay,” she said, “tour begins.”

“Uh, hate to bring it up,” Will said, “but did anyone bring a flashlight?”

They were pretty much surrounded by darkness.

“Shit,” Lydia groaned.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Delia said.

“Wait a minute, let’s not go just yet,” Will said. “There aren’t any windows in this whole place, right?”

“Yeah, which is why we can’t see anything,” Lydia said.

“Which is also why we could turn on some lights.”

“No way,” Lydia said, “it’s too risky.”

“Why don’t we just go in and see what our options are?” Patrick suggested.

“Fine. Come on,” Lydia said.

They went through a door and down a small corridor until they got to three more doors; one on the left, one on the right, and one in the middle.

“Okay, I think these take you to different themed areas,” Lydia said. “Now if I could just remember what kind exactly. Of course the doors are labeled but I can’t see a damn thing.”

Patrick reached in his pocked and pulled out a lighter. “Will this help?”

“Why do you have that?” Delia asked. “You quit smoking.”

“For the most part,” he said.

“What?” she demanded.

“See now, argue later,” Will said.

Patrick flicked the lighter and held it close to the doors. “History of the World, Imagination, and Pop Nation,” he read.

“Oh yeah, okay,” Lydia said. “History of the World is pretty self explanatory, Imagination is mythical and
fairytale stuff, and Pop Nation is celebrities.”

“Where should we go first?” Delia asked.

“And how are we going to see?” Will said.

“If I remember correctly,” Lydia said, “a lot of the scenes are separately lit. There should be a little switch either somewhere on the side of the plaque explaining about the figure, or near the floor at the black of the scene. I guess we could turn those on.”

“Assuming they still have the power turned on,” Patrick said.

“So where are we going first?” Delia asked again.

“Well,” Lydia said, “maybe we should split up.”

“Why?” Delia asked.

Lydia grinned. “Just because. Don’t get lost,” she quickly said, then opened the door leading to Imagination and pulled Will through with her.

“So you wanted to split up, eh?” Will asked, feeling around for a light switch and flipping it, finding themselves in an enchanted forest of wax.

“I thought it would give Delia and Patrick a chance to be alone. And hey, I said no big lights.”

“To give them a chance to be alone?” Will asked with a frown. “That’s all?”

“Maybe not,” she shrugged with a grin.

“Sweet,” he said pulling her to him.

Lydia wriggled free. “I want to look around. I haven’t been here in years.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I remember this place being pretty cool.”

They walked through the “forest” coming upon Snow White, the three bears, Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother’s cottage, and practically every other fairytale character in the world before coming to a rather savage looking dragon guarding a drawbridge.

“Oh I forgot about this!” Lydia said with excitement.

“So did I,” Will said. “What is it?”

“The dragon guards the way to the Chamber of Horrors!”

“The Chambers of Horrors is at the end of Fairytale Land?” he asked. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“I always thought it was funny. Too bad we can’t turn the sounds on,” she said. “The dragon roars and growls and I can’t even remember all the sounds that the Chamber has.”

“Well, why don’t we just turn them on?”

“No way,” Lydia said. “Out of the question. Plus it’s all on a main track somewhere in the control room.”

“Fine then. What are we waiting for?” he asked ducking past the dragon.

Lydia hesitated.

“What?”

“It’s pretty scary.”

“I’ll protect you,” he said offering her his arm.

Smiling, she took it.

“You know what they say?” he said as they went through the door. “Being scared makes for great foreplay.”

Will flipped on the main switch in the corridor; the room was suddenly cast with a dark red glow.

“Will, we’re only supposed to turn on the little lights,” Lydia said poking him.

“It’ll be fine,” he said. “Come on.”

They walked down the little hallway until they came to an open room with a wooden signed hanging over the entrance saying “Torture Chamber.”

Inside were various gruesome scenes.

“Oh lovely,” Lydia said pointing to a man getting stretched on a rack; his skin starting to rip to reveal his bones.

A guillotine stood with a masked man holding onto the pulley while some poor soul lay with his head on the block.

“You know someone could sneak in here,” Will said. “Hide under that mask, then when some unsuspecting pretty girl walks by-” he quickly grabbed Lydia.

“That’s not funny!” she said swatting at him.

“You’re right,” he said. “Ever seen Waxworks?”

“No.”

“All the scenes from the Chamber of Horrors came to life.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore,” she said holding up her hand.

Will chuckled and walked past Lydia. “Check out the Iron Maiden,” he said, reaching to touch it. “It feels real.”

“There’s a person inside. When tours are going on it opens and shuts,” she explained.

“Pretty kick ass,” he said.

“I always thought it was way too creepy.”

“They look so real,” he said, looking into the eyes of a figure who was strapped to an electric chair.

“Too real,” she said with a shudder.

“So what’s past this?” he asked.

“The monster room with like, movie monsters and stuff, and then just a room of general gross scenes,” she said going past him.

“Do you want to go on?” he said coming up behind her and putting his arms around her waist. “Or go somewhere else?”

“Like where?” she asked with a smile.

“I don’t know,” he said kissing her neck. “Some place with a bed?”

“You know,” she said, “there actually is.”

“Where?”

“Back in Imagination; the Little Red Riding Hood scene.”

“Isn’t the wolf in the bed?”

Lydia shook her head. “It’s always kept in storage when the place is closed. Something about it being really old and the wife of the owner’s favorite, so they don’t just leave it out. Back when I worked here we all joked about how naughty it would be to sneak in one night and do it in the bed.”

“Naughty indeed,” he said. “Did anyone ever do it?”

She shook her head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Let’s go,” he whispered in her ear.

It didn’t take much to convince Lydia. She had always thought it would be incredibly fun to have sex in the museum; besides being scared did make for good foreplay.

Will was pleasantly surprised to find that the bed in the little cottage was real, but only a twin. Well, they were planning on being close anyway.

“I hope there aren’t cameras up anywhere,” Lydia said as Will undressed her.

“Wouldn’t that be a surprise?” he said dropping his head to capture a nipple between his lips.

Lydia lay back on the bed, vastly enjoying Will’s mouth on her body.

In next to no time they were both naked and Will’s tongue was thrusting in Lydia’s mouth, her own driving up eagerly to meet his. His hands glided over her body teasing her for what would soon come.

“What’s with you and public places today?” Will asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” Lydia said with a sigh as Will inched down her body and, without much of a warning, began plunging his tongue into the hot center between her legs.

“Ohh Wiiiill,” she moaned, tightly locking her legs around his head.

“Lydia, I do need to breath,” he said pulling away.

“Well, you shouldn’t make it feel so good,” she said and pushed his head back to her.

“You don’t want it to be good?” he asked between stabs of his tongue.

“You know what I mean,” she snapped, jerking on his hair. “Godddd,” she moaned, tightly shutting her eyes.

“Someone’s vocal tonight,” he said sitting up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, opening her eyes.

“Finding somewhere else to play,” he said sucking a nipple in his mouth.

“Will,” she complained and tried to push him back down her body.

He shook his head. “That was just pre-show.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, then gasped loudly as Will slid all the way into her. She cried out and clutched him to her as he thrust inside her.

Will held onto Lydia’s hips for dear life as he slammed himself into her. He groaned in her ear as his body smashed against hers over and over again.

Lydia squeezed her legs around Will and arched her body upward. Her hands pushed on his back, willing him deeper, as deep as he could go. “Will, yessss,” she shouted. “Please!”

“Please what?” he gasped, still driving into her.

“I don’t know,” she moaned, “just pleassseee.”

Throwing all caution to the wind, Will went harder, digging his fingers into Lydia’s side. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she wanted more and he’d give until she couldn’t take anymore.

She cried out again slamming her head into the bed as Will slammed into her.

“Lydia,” he moaned sucking her earlobe into his mouth. “God.”

She reached up and met his thrust with her own, coming with an all out scream. Her body heaved and her breath was short; she couldn’t even open her eyes.

A second later and Will crumpled on top of her, his body spent as well.


“So all this thinking you’ve been doing?” Patrick asked Delia as they walked past the figures of all four Beatles.

“What about it?” Delia said.

“Where’s it going?”

Delia shrugged. “I’m still thinking.”

“I don’t get it,” he said, stopping. “Either you like me or you don’t. It’s basic second grade stuff.”

“But it isn’t that simple,” she said turning to him.

“Why not?”

“Because Patrick! Incase you didn’t realize, you broke my heart and for no apparent reason. How do I know you won’t do it again?”

“I won’t,” he said reaching for her hand.

“Well, your word’s not as good as it used to be.” She looked away but kept her hand in his.

“Delia,’ he said, but a noise somewhere behind them made them both turn.

“What was that?” Delia asked, pulling away.

“I don’t know,” Patrick said. He walked toward the door they came in and listened. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“What if it was the cops or something?” Delia asked.

“Now what’s the likeliness of that?” Patrick asked.

“Let’s go,” Delia said. “Come on, the whole place circles around so we can go forward to get back.”

“Lead on,” Patrick said.

They walked farther into the room but Delia stopped abruptly and Patrick almost slammed into her.

“I mean, I think we can get back this way,” she said. “Yeah, okay.” She took off again and Patrick followed.

They walked for about ten minutes until they found themselves in a red-lit room full of gruesome sights.

“Eww,” Delia said coming upon a wax doctor sawing into the head of a very much awake person.

“Must be the Chamber of Horrors,” Patrick said looking around.

“I never liked this part,” Delia said wrinkling her nose.

“Scary, huh?” Patrick asked.

Delia nodded.

“So where do you think that noise came from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you ever read that story about the reporter staying the night in a wax museum and a killer from the Chamber of Horrors coming to life?”

“No I haven’t and thanks for bringing it up,” she said looking around wearily.

“Now, you know I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said putting his arms around her waist.

“Just scare me to death,” she said.

“So you didn’t pull away,” he said dropping his mouth to her ear.

“Not yet.”

“I love you Delia,” he said seriously.

“Patrick-”

“What?” he said.

“I don’t know.” She turned to him and before she even knew it he was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

He was so familiar; she knew his mouth better than anyone’s and God it was a good mouth.

But when she felt his tongue slip past her lips, she pulled away.

“You responded,” he said before she could speak.

“I know,” she resigned.

“Do you still love me, Delia?”

“You know I do,” she said pulling away from him. “But-”

“But what?” he asked.

“It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

“The kiss?”

“All of it,” she said. “Let’s find Lydia and Will, I’m ready to go home.”

Eventually they all met back up in the lobby and headed back to the beach house. The others chatted about how cool the museum was and all they saw but Delia stayed silent.

She couldn’t keep putting Patrick off. His pride, if not ego, would soon have taken enough and he’d go back home, probably hating her. That she didn’t want. At all. The truth was that she did still love him and she did want to be with him. But Grant Turner kept popping up in her mind and she just wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him.

So why do you have to? came an inside voice. Couldn’t you get back with Patrick and continue the week out with Mr. Turner?

Why . . . yes she could. Techinally it wouldn’t be lying to Patrick and damn it, he did hurt her! Why was she being so considerate anyway?

Because she still loved him and didn’t want him hurt.


Back at the house everyone was too pumped to watch TV and it wasn’t even midnight; too early to go to sleep, so they decided to put their suits on and head out to the pool.

Will lugged a cooler full of various alcoholic beverages out to the deck and Lydia and Patrick dutifully followed.

“You’re coming aren’t you?” Lydia asked when she came back in for snacks.

Delia shook her head. “I’m going to bed.”

“Why?”

“Patrick kissed me,” Delia admitted.

“What?” Lydia gasped. “What happened?”

“We were talking about us and he just did it.”

“Did you kiss back?”

She nodded.

“Are you getting back together?”

“I don’t know. He wants an answer and I just . . . don’t know Lydia.”

“When do you think you will?”

Delia shrugged.

“Well, get some sleep then.”

“Yeah, I’ll try,” she sighed. “Night.”

As soon as Lydia was outside, Delia ran right up the stairs to Grant’s room and knocked on his door.

A second later Grant appeared.

“Hi,” Delia said.

“Hey,” Grant said looking over her shoulder into the hallway.

“Everyone’s down at the pool,” Delia said brushing past him.

He shut the door and followed her back into his room. “And what are you doing?”

“Sleeping. You know you’re turning me into quite the liar, Mr. Turner.”

“I’m such a bad man,” he said shaking his head.

“You are,” Delia said walking over to him and putting her arms around his neck. “What were you doing up so late?”

“I was getting ready to take a shower.”

Delia smiled. “In there?” she asked motioning to his bathroom.

He nodded.

“We can work with that,” she said and dragged him into the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Delia shut the bathroom door and walked over to Grant, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Delia?” he asked again.

“How about a bath instead?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I think I could manage that,” Grant nodded.

Delia leaned over and turned on the faucet, then stood back up in front of Grant.

They undressed each other in seconds and were soon in the big whirlpool tub; Delia nestled in front of Grant, between his legs.

“Did I tell you I almost didn’t come on this trip,” Delia said as Grant kissed along her neck.

“That would have been an awful waste,” he said.

“Uh huh,” Delia agreed laying her head back against him.

Grant let his hands leisurely explore Delia’s body. The water barely reached her breasts and he left little trails of it all along her skin.

Delia smiled lazily and closed her eyes. He felt so good; damn it, what was it about his hands that turned her knees into jelly? Equal parts soft and strong; they certainly knew their way around a girl’s body.

He cupped both her breasts, generously squeezing and massaging until Delia moaned out. His fingers trailed around her nipples, teasing the little buds until they were as pink and hard as could be. Twisting them beneath his fingers, he leaned down and kissed Delia’s lips; their mouths just able to reach.

She moaned in his mouth and fastened her hands over his, pushing his hands harder onto her.

Pulling away, Grant chuckled. “Yes?” he asked.

“Harder,” she moaned, pushing herself into him.

“Should we be exploring the possibilities of a masochistic side to you?” he asked.

Delia smiled. “If you wanted to tie me up, I’d give you the rope.”

“Imagine that,” he said keeping one hand massaging her nipple and letting the other one slide down her stomach.

“Is this something I can look forward to?” she asked.

“You think I’ll have a nice view in hell?” he said kissing her ear.

She giggled. “Are you feeling guilty, Mr. Turner?”

“Do you even know how old I really am?”

“Hmm, older than me?”

“Do you even want to know?”

“You seem to be forgetting that I have a thing for older guys.”

“Patrick isn’t older than you.”

“He’s also the first guy my age I’ve ever dated.”

Grant dropped his hand to Delia’s thigh, trailing his fingers up and down the side of her leg. “Twenty-four years,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s the age difference.”

“It’s so hot, isn’t it?” she said pressing herself into him.

“Way more than it should be.”

“Hey,” she said, picking up his arm and turning it over, “that makes so much more sense now.”

“What?” he asked.

“That,” she said pointing to the dark greenish-blue tattoo of an anchor and a number he sported on his forearm. “You got that in the military. I always wondered about it.”

“We all got them,” he said nodding.

“I like tattoos. As long as they’re not all over the place.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Patrick has two; that A sign thing with the circle around it on his stomach and some kind of skull guy from The Misfits album covers.”

“He’s hardcore,” Grant said sarcastically.

Delia giggled. “Sometimes.”

“So, why are you thinking of him when you’re with me?” he asked letting his other hand fall to her other thigh.

“Oh I’m not,” she said quickly.

“Weren’t you?”

“The tattoo just reminded me of him.” Both his hands were stroking the insides of her thighs and Delia’s breath caught in her throat. He was so close to her. . . .

“So where did you guys go tonight?” he asked. “Lydia seemed a little reluctant to say.”

Delia smiled. “And you think I will just because your hands are currently making me wetter than this water?”

“Are we adding dirty talk to our future bondage session?” he asked.

“Oh I think we should,” she said with a smirk.

“So you’re not going to tell me where you went?”

She shook her head. “But . . . I should tell you something else.”

“What?”

“Patrick kissed me.”

“He did, did he?”

She nodded. “And I kissed back.”

“Hmm.”

“Does that bother you?” she asked delicately.

“It does,” he said. “It shouldn’t, but it does.”

“I didn’t mean to, kiss him, I mean. I’d rather kiss you.”

“Yeah?”

“Since forever.”

Grant leaned down again and dipped his tongue in Delia’s mouth, continuing to caress her thighs.

“Mmm, Mr. Turner,” she said breaking the kiss. “I need-”

“Lets see what you need,” he said. He slid his hand down her thigh and over her sex, then slowly ran a finger up her slit.

Delia sucked in a breath. “Yes,” she said shutting her eyes and shifting under him, eager for more of his touch.

He slid his finger inside her, smirking at the tiny gasp that escaped Delia’s lip. He pushed another finger in, stabbing at her in slow, even strokes.

Delia moaned, arching up to meet his fingers. His lips were busying themselves with her neck and his other hand had found one of her nipples and was squeezing the life out of it. “Mmm,” she moaned, opening her legs wider. “More.”

Grant slid in another finger, stretching and filling Delia.

She cried out, bucking her hips. “God, Mr. Turner. . . .”

“Grant,” he said firmly, removing his fingers.

“No,” she whined reaching for his hand, but he easily kept it away from her.

“Say it,” he said. “I want to feel you, Delia,” he moaned. “Say it.”

“Grant!” she shouted, her body on fire. “Please.”

He immediately slid both fingers back into her. “You’re so tight,” he said, his fingers plunging deeper.

Delia couldn’t think. Couldn’t form a thought. There was something about being touched that way that was so intimate, nothing could compare. Sure, Grant’s tongue had been inside her quite a few times already, but there was just something about having his long, strong fingers thrusting so deeply inside her that made her all the more hot for him. He was so precise, reaching deep to fulfill her every carnal need.

“Grant!” she moaned as a third finger entered her. She could feel his cock, hard as marble, pressing into her from beneath and it only further ignited her intense fire.

His fingers didn’t just thrust inside her or simply fill her, they stretched and expanded her and Delia thought she was going to go mad.

Then he found her clit and squeezed it with his thumb and forefinger.

Delia kicked her legs up, splashing water out of the tub.

“Easy there,” Grant said with a smirk.

“God Grant, I can’t take anymore,” she said. She turned around to face him and reached down, taking his hardness in her hands.

Grant groaned and closed his eyes as she stroked him a few times.

“Please,” she moaned. “I want to feel you inside me, now.”

Grant grabbed Delia’s hips, lifted her up and slammed his cock into her. She squealed out, flinging her head back and grasping onto his hips with both her hands. Grant, still clutching her hips, jerked her up and down on him, moaning himself as he slid in and out of her velvety wetness.

Delia cried out again, Grant’s fingers an iron grip on her. She bobbed up and down on him as over and over again he filled her.

“More . . . more, yes, God!” she cried.

Faster Grant went. Deeper, harder, yes. Fuck, why did she have to be so tight and wet and so fucking inviting?

Delia gasped, he was so deep, in and out, in and out, oh he was so amazing inside her. She shivered, her body trembling against Grant’s. One more thrust and she was gone, calling out his name like a battle cry. She fell into him, his hands still holding her, until he too came with a ragged groan.

“Grant,” she said still panting.

“Yeah?” he asked, panting himself.

“I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“The way you make me feel.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Forget it,” she said and kissed him. She meant for it to be quick, but once his tongue touched hers, she was lost. With her body still wrapped around his, the water now barely lukewarm, they kissed for ten minutes.

She finally made herself pull away. “I should go,” she said.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.

She smiled but got up anyway and left the tub.


Delia decided, once dried and clothed, to go down to the deck after all. She didn’t get in the pool, just sat on a deck chair and watched the others. Dangerous water, that’s where she was headed. Wanting Grant for so long and finally getting him was one of the most incredible things that had ever happen to her. Without question he was the best sex she’d ever had. But there was so much more to it than that . . . she’d always genuinely liked Grant. And now that she had known him as intimately as possible, her crush on him, her feelings for him were soaring out of control.

Laying back on the chair she looked up to the lit, second-floor window. Grant would be going to bed now. And Delia wanted nothing more than to be right there with him.


Grant slipped a tee-shirt over his head, then ran a hand through his slightly wet hair. He walked over to the window that over-looked the pool and spotted Delia sitting on a chair laughing along with the others.

God, she was beautiful.

But what the hell was he doing? Sleeping with his twenty-one year old daughter’s best friend? While his own marriage dissolved. . . .

He shook his head, still watching Delia. He might not have known what the hell he was doing, but he sure as hell knew that he didn’t want to stop.

~~~