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The rowboat was waiting where they’d left it. Ben collapsed on its edge, sitting down to catch his breath. Casey passed him a water bottle and he drank deeply.
“Tired?” she teased.
“I didn’t know I was going to have an extra workout at the top.” He blushed.
She stood over him, straddling his knees as she took the water from him and drank. She’d spent the whole walk down in a constant state of arousal, still slick between her legs. Ben was right—she definitely had more in her. She wasn’t going to be able to take much more before she’d be begging him to finish her off once again.
After they’d rested and eaten the apples Ben had packed, they pulled the boat back to the water. Casey rowed this time, but languidly because she was tired and happy and wanted to keep her hands intact. And besides, they had nowhere else to be but with each other.
The sun was dipping into late afternoon and the lake sparkled in the light. Ben had closed his eyes and was leaning against the gunwale, spread out, trailing his fingers in the cool water. Casey lifted the oars and let them drift, relaxing into the warmth and the pleasant soreness that sang through her arms and legs. It was perfect.
Except for one thing.
That niggling feeling that began deep between her thighs and was coursing its way through her body. Like an itch that needed to be scratched—the throbbing of her ongoing need. She wasn’t done yet. When it came to Ben, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be done.
She looked at his resting form, his hair brushed back off his forehead, his long limbs splayed across the boat. He was still shirtless, and she admired the rise and fall of his taut stomach as he breathed. He was so beautiful. She couldn’t believe he was hers.
She dragged her fingers through the clear water and flicked the drops onto his face. His eyes flew open with a start and he scrambled to sit up, rocking the boat. Casey burst into laughter.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” She was sitting on the seat, arms resting on the oar handles. She bit the corner of her lip and spread her knees to let Ben know why she was disturbing his slumber.
He was immediately awake more fully than an entire bucket of lake water splashed on his head could have accomplished.
He crawled over to where Casey sat, staying low in the boat. Then he put his mouth between her legs and bit down through the fabric of her shorts, looking up at her from where he kneeled.
“Ready for round two?” he teased, resting his cheek against her thigh. Casey pressed her lips into a sly little grin.
He peeked up over the gunwale and looked around the lake. No one was in sight. Even if there were people from the campgrounds on the beach on the opposite shore, they were far enough away that it seemed unlikely they would be able to tell what was going on.
“Well, I think that can be arranged,” he decided, having confirmed the coast was clear. He rubbed his thumb over her shorts, where she could feel the head emanating from her. He had a definite glint in his eye.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked, gripping the oars.
“Come on,” he goaded. “Touch yourself.”
She looked around. “Now?”
Ben nodded. Reaching for her right hand, he guided her fingers under the elastic waist of her shorts. “Do it,” he said softly. “I want to watch.”
Casey let out a self-conscious giggle. “You’re crazy,” she said.
Ben nodded vigorously. “Crazy for you. Crazy enough that I know I can just go for it, for whatever we want together. And right now, I want to see you pleasure yourself. Please?”
Casey chewed on her lip, but she didn’t move her hand from where it was lodged in the waist of her shorts.
“I’m begging you,” he said. Then he changed his tone. “I’m commanding you.” The persona made Casey laugh.
“I’m asking you?” he tried.
“Are you really sure?”
“Do it.” He nudged her hand down. “It would bring me oh so much joy.”
It was the thought of her pleasure bringing him pleasure that made Casey relent. Slowly she inched her hand lower, enjoying the desire spreading over Ben’s face as he kept his eyes trained on the shape of her knuckles shifting under the fabric between her legs.
Gently he reached over and tugged down her shorts. Casey’s hand was buried beneath her black panties and both heard and saw the expression on his face when the sight made his breath catch.
“That’s it,” he murmured.
“You like that?” she asked, growing even more turned on at the look in his eyes. The whole course of the hike had left her soaking. Now the lust in Ben’s voice was making her positively gush.
She pulled out her hand so he could see how wet her fingers were. He bent forward and licked them
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and Casey spread her legs wider as she slid her hand back to its spot. Ben watched, transfixed, as her hand circled her clit, pressing and moving just how she liked it. Then she pulled the crotch of her panties to the side to give him a full view as she slid one finger, and then another, deep inside. Ben sat back in the boat, groaning, watching it all.
As she stroked herself in and out, Ben began rubbing the hard knob of his cock through his shorts. When she slipped her panties down, he pulled down the front of his shorts and let his cock burst free. With one hand, she moved her fingers deep inside her. With her other, she used two fingers to circle her clit. The sensation was escalating, tingling through her whole body as she went deeper and faster, touching herself the way that only she knew.
She locked eyes with Ben as she pressed down on her clit. The passion as he held her gaze was electrifying. The intensity burned in his look. She circled her clit harder. Ben kept up with her rhythm as he stroked his cock, pulling on his shaft as his breathing grew more and more labored.
Casey was the first to break eye contact across the boat. Her look strayed down to where his hand was pumping in his lap. She couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of his cock. The picture of him stroking himself made her own fingers work faster. She had been shy when Ben asked to watch her, but the truth was that she loved watching him.
There was something about the way he touched himself that was different from anything she could do. No matter how she touched him, she couldn’t quite replicate the way he moved—the angle of the wrist, the movement of the hand, the exact pressure he held. The way he twisted and pulled in ways no other person could anticipate.
She swirled her clit vigorously as Ben stroked himself harder. It was pointing straight up at her and she was completely focused on the motions of his hand. She could feel how wet she was, building and building, the fire growing within.
“Can you come?” Ben’s voice was wet with desire.
Casey couldn’t respond. She only nodded.
“Do it,” he said.
His urging was all she needed to send herself over the edge. She pressed down hard against her clit, moving in circles where she knew the pressure would make her explode. She leaned back, grinding her hips into the hard metal seat of the boat. Her legs shot out and waves gripped her, crying out in ecstasy as Ben watched the pleasure course through her.
Her face was flushed and her legs trembling as she came back to reality, her shorts around her ankles and her panties around her knees, her wetness slick between her legs and coating both hands.
Ben, though, was looking at her as if she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
He had slowed down stroking himself while she came, but he was still gripping himself tightly in one hand. A shimmer of liquid had formed around the slit at the tip of his hard, thick cock.
She extended her arms and motioned for him to come toward her. He kneeled in the bottom of the boat and kissed her deeply as she sat on the seat. His hand was still on his cock.
“Do you want to take me?” Casey asked. She didn’t know if she was ready to come again so quickly, but she was so wet she knew he would slide right in.
“I didn’t bring another condom.”
“I guess we should always travel with a pack.” She laughed. “But there are other things we can do.” She started to reach for his cock, wanting to touch him, stroke him, taste him.
“Can I—” Ben started, and then his cheeks flushed pink.
“You can’t possibly be shy with me now. Sharing the things that we want, remember?”
Anyway, there wasn’t anything she would say no to. Nothing she wouldn’t do for this beautiful man.
“I want your mouth,” Ben whispered hoarsely. “Can I?”
Hearing him say it sent another spasm jolting through her legs. Casey responded by kissing him hard, pushing and moving her tongue to remind him what it was like on his cock. She brought one of her wet fingers to their interlocked mouths and pulled gently on his lower lip. He groaned.
She started inching down, expecting him to lie down in the bottom of the boat so she could work him with her mouth. But Ben clearly had other ideas. He nudged her back, so that she was the one sitting in the bottom of the boat, against the metal seat. He reached for his shirt and bunched it up as a headrest for her neck.
“Is this okay?” he asked. Eagerly Casey nodded, reaching for his cock as it bobbed tantalizingly in front of her face, just out of reach.
“Patience,” he murmured, guiding himself into Casey’s mouth. He half stood, half-crouched over her, tilting her neck back to accept more of his shaft. He had been so close from stroking himself that it only took a few thrusts to finish him off.
Because when he’d asked for Casey’s mouth, she quickly realized that he wasn’t asking for her to give him a blowjob. No, he meant exactly what he said. With one hand he cradled her neck and her jaw, holding her at the angle he wanted, signaling her with his touch that he desired her to be still. With his other hand, he kept hold of the base of his shaft as he pushed in and out.
When she knew by the quiver in his legs and the strained look across his face that he was about to come, he plunged his cock deep into her mouth, spilling his seed straight down her throat. He pumped slightly until he was completely drawn out. Casey swallowed him all, tasting the sweetness and salt he had given her. She knew now that this was how he liked it—hard, fast thrusts and then, when he came, a sudden pulling back, as though he was savoring every second until the very end.
He cradled her head in his hands as he pulled out. She licked the last strings of cum from his tip.
“Was that okay?” he asked, as though suddenly embarrassed by the way he had taken her.
Casey swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock and slid it down his shaft, licking every inch of him clean.
“Mmmhmm,” she hummed as she licked her tongue over his balls and brushed the length of him over her face, her cheeks, gently grazing her fluttering eyelids. “Everything about you is more than okay.”
He tucked himself back into his shorts and sat down on his haunches.
“I just remembered one more thing,” he said, reaching into the prow of the boat for the backpack. Casey passed it over to him, wondering what he could possibly be talking about.
He rooted around in the front of the pack and pulled out a dark rectangle. He burst out laughing at how immediately her eyes lit up.
“You didn’t,” she said.
“I always do,” he responded. He slid his finger under the paper and broke off a large square, placing it on Casey’s waiting tongue.
“Don’t bite it,” he instructed.
“Yes sir,” she said coyly.
“Suck.”
“Mmm.”
He kissed her and brought his finger to her lips for her to lick the chocolate from him. Then he placed a square in his mouth. It was like nothing else Casey had ever tasted, rich and dark and almost tangy, with a slight hint of fruit.
She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. The square melted on her tongue, new flavors blossoming the longer she let it sit.
“Good, huh?” Ben asked, smiling at her obvious happiness.
“This. Is. Incredible. What is it?” she asked.
“Michel Cluizel.” He showed her the label. Seventy-two percent cacao, Madagascar single origin. She turned it over and saw the price tag. Whoa. Who spent nine dollars on a bar of chocolate?
“You don’t do anything halfway,” she commented, breaking off another square for them both.
Ben shook his head. “Otherwise, I’d only wind up with half of what I wanted.”
“And what is it you want?” Casey asked with a teasing smile, even though it was a serious question.
“You,” he said, without missing a beat. “And I don’t mean halfway. I want all of you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m yours.” Casey burrowed into his arms, the chocolate still lingering on her tongue. They lay in the bottom of the boat, drifting, holding each other under the sun. Ben’s shorts were low on his hips and Casey traced lazy circles down the line from his belly button to his pubic hair, over the divot in his hip bones and the lines where his body fit together. She kept her wetness pressed against his leg, enjoying the feel of their togetherness, until they drifted close enough to shore that Ben reminded her she should probably put on her shorts.
She realigned the oars in the oarlock and rowed them both home, already wondering what miracle he was going to come up with for dinner. And for the long night ahead.