Reedus Fap Fest 2013 - Van - Floating
Author's Note: Takes place prior to beginning of Floating, featuring an original character inspired by the lovely sunsphereshots.
Many thank yous to einfach_mich & incog_ninja for helpful advice & edits.
Summer
The first few times he'd seen Penny, she'd smiled at him, but he knew she wasn't really seeing him. She was just there, being a polite summer renter, killing time. Just a vacation for her, a summer thing. While this was his real life, going on endlessly and pointlessly here on the water, and he didn't have any fucking clue when that'd end.
She knew his name, though; she asked that right away.
"Hi Van," she always says when she sees him. "How are you doing?"
"Good," he always says back. Then ducks his head, looks away. She look at him like he was a kid, like he needed someone to ask him how he was doing. How things were. How it was going, him and his dad and this shitty house. Like she knew he had no mother. Like if he'd stayed one second longer, she'd give him chores to do. And then she finally did, left a note on their door, asking him about mowing the lawn. Which his dad saw and said he had to do, and for free, too.
"You help that lady out," his father said. "She doesn't need to pay you, either. You tell her."
It's been months since he's seen Julie. He can barely remember her face. Can barely remember sex with her. And seeing Penny out in her yard, right next door, watering her flowers in her bikini or that black dress that showed off her tattoos? Damn.
Penny was older. There was no way she'd ever thought of him like that. Plus she had a boyfriend, he figured. She was fucking hot enough; there was no way she was alone.
He shifted in his bed, kicked the sheet from off him. He couldn't sleep for shit lately. He laid there in his boxers, the fan blowing over him, the light blinking. Thought for a minute of his dad, passed out where he'd put him to bed earlier, downstairs.
Fuck. His fucking dad, crying over breakfast. Crying. Drunk before lunch time.
He couldn't think about his dad. Julie, either.
But Penny? Penny he could think about, no problem. Whether he wanted to or not. Penny was hot. Dark-haired. Fantastic rack. Big smile, with that killer red lipstick. Or maybe they were just red lips? He didn't know, with some girls you couldn't tell what was make-up and what was real.
First thing tomorrow, he thought, his hand slipping down his stomach and beneath the waistband of his boxers, he'd go over and mow that fucking lawn of hers. He'd strip out of his shirt and move all those goddamn flower pots she had everywhere and mow that fucker until it was as bald as a fucking baseball field and he was sweaty as hell. Then she'd call him inside and give him a glass of ice water.
He gulps down the water. His fingers circle his dick as it hardens and grows in his palm.
Penny smiles that big sexy smile. She says, "Want more, Van?"
He shakes his head, but she's not talking about water anymore. She takes the glass from him & sets it on the counter. Hooks her finger through his belt loop and pulls him closer. Presses his face right in those tits of hers. She smells both sweet and sharp. Like fruit, or Kool-aid. Like lake-water. Like all the smells he loves from summer. Like the cut grass he's got all over his jeans. That he's getting all over her, now, too.
He's hard now. He's hard a lot; he's 19 and he lives on this goddamn lake where there's always girls in bikinis hanging around. But this was seriously good, thinking about Penny. Good enough to strip off his boxers completely and get the thing of lotion from his nightstand and coat things down real nice.
He thinks of Penny some more. Penny squeezing her tits for him. Penny stripping down. Penny in a million different positions. How did he want her? On her knees, sucking him off? Julie'd only done that once. She'd been drunk, and she hadn't let him finish, either. And then never again. She never even brought it up again. Like she wanted to forget. He'd wanted to tell her, it was good, she was good, it felt amazing, and she'd see; he'd do the same to her and it'd be good. But he couldn't ever think of a way to say that. To bring it up.
But Penny? Penny wouldn't need him to bring it up. She was older, she didn't give a shit. She knew what she was doing. Nothing was a big deal, like it'd be with Julie. Penny'd get down on her knees and suck it and suck it and when he came she'd smile up at him, those red lips all wet from swallowing it down.
His wrist was aching a little, he was gripping himself too tight. He was in a hurry and he didn't need to be, but sometimes he got that way. Impatient. And he was sweating like a fool. But he shuts his eyes and loosens up, softer now. Keeps stroking. Slow and easy, until he sees Penny again. Right where he wants her.
Right next to him, her hands all over him. She whispers into his ear, "I can't stop thinking about you."
She pushes him back against the table, and he puts his hands around her waist, slides them down to her ass. She's got a sweet ass and his hands push up the skirt of the little black dress she's wearing until he can feel her panties which are soft and silky.
"Mmm…" she hums into his skin, biting his shoulder a little. Then she leans back and starts unbuttoning her dress, her tits popping out.
She takes his hands and puts them on her tits, which are fucking soft and beautiful and he rubs them over her bra, which is red lace and barely looks like it fits her. He grabs one of them so it comes out of the bra, and her dress hangs off her weird, but she's not even mad about any of it, the dress coming off or the greedy way he's feeling her up. She just laughs and smiles. She licks him, on the chest. She's so happy about this; she's so into it and it's like she's thinks it just fun, not the serious shit Julie made it into, where she always seemed kind of pissed at him the whole time and he felt bad and assholey for wanting her.
"God, you taste good," she says, her mouth on his neck. Then she kisses him. For the first time. They haven't kissed yet, and here she is, half naked. He's just been grabbing and touching. She's so different than any other girls he's been with.
She pulls back, nips at his lower lip.
"You taste good, too," he says. Because she does. Like lemonade and cherries and sex. Smells good, too. Like suntan lotion and flowers and gasoline from the mower.
"You want to taste me for real?" she asks.
"Okay," he says.
She twists out of her dress, lets it drop on the floor. Stands in front of him, unclips her bra, adds that to pile. Then it's just her and her panties. Red, like the bra.
He drops to his knees, then, in a big hurry again, because he just wants to get his face in her. His fingers dig underneath the elastic of her panties and he slips them down, slowly, and she's fully bare. Smooth and soft, no hair at all. He presses his face to her and she's warm and wet and she tastes like everything he's ever imagined a girl to taste like. He wraps his hands around her fine ass and brings her closer to his mouth, just licking and kissing. He doesn't know what to do but he loves being where he is, anyway. She runs her nails through his hair and she's sighing and gulping, almost like she's about to laugh out loud. She sounds so happy.
Then she says, "Van? I can't wait any more. Van…?"
She sounds frantic, urgent, so he stands up to see what her deal is and her hands are on his fly, rubbing him and she starts undoing the buttons of his jeans and saying, "Please? Please? Okay?"
And he says nothing, just lets her pull him out of his boxers because he will do whatever she wants. Give her whatever she wants. She looks down at him, rock hard in her hand. Pushes his jeans to the floor.
"Take off your shoes," she says. And he does, and the whole she's smiling, her mouth red and open. Once he's naked, he looks around, wondering if she wants to go to her bed or something.
Licking her lips, she shakes her head a little. "Right here. Right now."
She kicks her panties off her ankle and pushes him onto the table. He lays back, the table smooth and cold against his skin. She climbs over him, kissing him, her hands sweeping over him chest, and then over the piles of mail, which she sweeps onto the floor. She fits herself over him, all bare, her pussy delicious and wet, sliding over him. It feels so good to be this naked with her, everything naked, everything touching, skin to skin.
"I want you so bad," she says. She rubs those tits against him, kisses him, then grips his hips with her knees and slides herself over him, slowly, all the way down to his balls, trapping him beneath her, no stopping for a condom or to ask if it was okay or any of that shit like he had to do with Julie.
It feels perfect. Exactly fucking perfect.
Her knees squeeze against him as she rides him, slowly. Up and down, she slides, unbelievably slow. His hand moves faster, the lube squeaking all noisy. He reaches over to the window and turns up the fan so he can't hear it. Puts his wrist over his eyes so the light wouldn't remind him of where he was.
"You're so big," she says. Riding him, her hands pressing on his chest to get the right position. Her tits bounce all pretty, the nipples tight and red. He watches his dick go in and out of her. There's a tattoo around her belly button, a circle of some kind. Flowers? Diamonds? Something else? He doesn't care; she's breathing hard. He reaches to touch her tattoo and feels her skin, slightly damp with sweat.
"Harder," she says. He puts his hands around her hips. Driving her, moving her the way he wants.
"Oh, baby," she says, her hand on his belly, running up and down the little trail of hair there. "You're so good."
He wants to keep going. He never wants this to end. At the same time, he wants to come so bad that he can barely breathe. Watching her above him, feeling her all around him, her nails pinching into his chest as she holds herself up, pinned to his cock like she is – it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
But then she says his name, quietly. Then louder. And then she comes and he can't get enough. The sounds she makes. Her hair all over her shoulders. Her eyes close and her head tips back and he can feel her pussy so tight around him, clenching. Spasming. She's so loud he knows that everyone can hear, through the open window, all the way across the lake, and he thinks everyone will know what they've done.
But then he doesn't care, because he's coming too. Finally and it's so good. His back is tensing, and sweating against the table top and she feels so excellent that he shuts his eyes, too, and says, "Penny," softly, in a whisper. She reaches down and kisses him and everything goes white and black under the light of the blinking fan into a warm pool on his stomach.
He lays there a while, in his bed. Coming back to life. His muscles relaxing in waves. The stickiness on his belly grows cold under the fan after a while and he grabs a t-shirt off the floor to wipe himself off. Then he goes to the bathroom and takes a quick drink of water before stumbling back to bed, still naked.
He pulls the covers over him again, the light flashing over him. He feels fucking excellent. Perfect. Ready to sleep. He turns the fan down a bit now and licks his lips. He swears he can taste her; Penny, all over his lips. He will go over and mow her lawn tomorrow, as soon as he wakes up. He feels like summer can last forever and that'd be just fine with him. As he falls asleep, dreaming of her pretty red lips and her big smile, he can almost smell the fresh-cut grass.