He pulled off her mouth with a suck that bounced off the inside of the tank. “Can I see if you’re wet?” he panted, searching her eyes. “Can we make you wet?”
She nodded frantically before he got it all out. She craved anything he wanted to give her.
He pushed her back against the wall of the tank, knocking the brush handle over with a clatter, before swooping down to his knees, pulling her cutoffs and panties down, not even bothering to tug them over her muck boots before he was separating her pussy lips and licking in. She’d been so self-conscious when other boys tried to do this and never understood what the fuss was about but there, down there with his gorgeous face between her legs and his soft lips mouthing at her and his calloused thumbs holding the seam of her body apart...
“Tell me,” he whispered against the softest part of her. She scratched her fingers against his scalp, used him to keep her upright when he nuzzled his lips into her. The steel at her back alone couldn’t keep her stable. “I don’t know what I’m doing unless you tell me. Do you like it like this?”
Normally, she didn’t know what she liked, although she definitely liked that as he flicked at her fast but she was too stunned to say it as she looked down and found him watching her, his eyes black and hungry with his pink tongue on this pink part of her.
“Or do you like this?”
And her whole body went to water as his tongue did this rolling, stroking thing, poking in deeper, melting her against his hands as she gripped his hair. “Yes, yes,” she moaned. “Ese. Así.”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to push her legs wider and then growling, thrillingly, at the clothes that still held her knees closed. He ripped her shorts and panties off one boot, pushed to standing as he raised her knee and pulled her against him.
“This is insane, right?” he asked, searching her face as the heart of her throbbed against his cock, hot and hard through his jeans.
“Definitely,” she gasped, hips rolling against so much lean, muscular boy.
“Is it too fast?”
She groaned and felt him clench her ass in his big hand. “Not fast enough.”
“I have a condom.”
She felt him kiss the top of her head; she was sweating at her roots.
“Can I be inside you?”
She slid her hand down his torso and tugged at his jeans’ button.
Hands wild, they got his jeans and boxers down around his thighs, they got the condom from his wallet covering his long, thick dick, they got his black T-shirt halfway up the abs she was trying to lick and suck before he stopped her, groaning, claiming she’d have him coming his brains out before they got started. He picked her up rather than fighting her, got her thighs around his waist, his hands squeezing her ass, his tongue deep and rich in her mouth. She shuddered against him, instantly compliant as the hot tip of his dick brushed her pussy. She folded her elbows around his wide shoulders as he pushed inside.
She felt incandescent.
“Tell me if—” He stopped. Panted. Leaned her against the tank wall and licked her nipple through her T-shirt. He pushed in again and stretched her a little further. “Tell me what—” He moaned, stopped again, and moved his mouth until he found skin in the sleeveless arm of her T-shirt, sucking his mark on her.
Arms raised to engulf his head, shuddering between him and the warm tank wall, Sofia felt light-headed with pleasure. She gripped him with her knees and circled her hips once to work him deeper.
He clenched her ass and buried his face against her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her skin. “I’m going to come.”
His helplessness made the muscles inside her surge, muscles she’d never known she had, and she squeezed them again, gripped and stroked him inside of her, wanted him more helpless, wanted him at her command, and he cried out, sound bursting in the tank, and then he pushed hard and fast, hard and deep into her, pounding into her body as she used all of her strength to hold him against her, and that wetness he promised made the way sleek and fire-cracking and then he was grunting through his teeth as his penis swelled then jerked inside her body, the thick, long, hardness like an arrow of pleasure.
She circled her hips frantically as he cursed and came.
He sagged against her swearing promises into her skin. “...fuck...fuck...sorry...so good...you felt... Gimme a minute, just a minute, and... I promise...fuck, you feel so good...”
Sofia hooked her ankles around his back and bathed in his worship. As she held him close, her body trembled with the promise of more. It was a journey she’d never completed, but she’d been further down the road with him than with anyone.
As he regained his breath, he turned his head and nuzzled into her neck. “Your tattoo...it’s so fucking cool,” he murmured. “The Smiths?”
She nodded, torn. That he’d recognized the red script from The Smiths’ The Queen is Dead album cover was one more sign that her instant lust for this foreign boy was right and good and true. But she didn’t want the outside world to start creeping into their warm and musky tank.
She seldom got what she wanted.
“Aish!” a male voice called out in the winery.
They both startled. When Aish jerked up his head to look at her, she was doused in cold reality. They were strangers. Fucking. In a wine tank. Among a gossipy group of twenty-somethings. He eased out of her gently, but she grimaced at the wet, uncomfortable pull.
He set her down on her feet. “Are you good?” he whispered, his shaggy, surfer hair falling into his eyes. She nodded, although her legs quivered beneath her. He took his warm hands away.
“Aish!” the guy called again.
“He’s not going to leave until he finds me,” Aish
