His held my hips in his hands but only to balance me. This was my ride, my turn to control the pace. Somehow the complete permission to selfishly take my pleasure from his body made me want to please him more. I began to contract the muscles inside me with each inward stroke tightening myself around him as hard as I could manage.
"That feels amazing . . . fuck . . . I didn't know you could do that." His eyes, which had been open and watching me, closed and his head dropped back against the cushion. "Don't stop . . . don't ever stop."
I was happy that concentrating on giving to him had slowed my rocket paced arousal. I wanted him to come with me and I wanted him to come hard. "Nothing could stop me from wanting you, Tristan. Nothing."
He lifted his head back up and drew my face toward his. Our kiss matched the rhythm of the intense languid motion of our hips. Each thrust seemed deeper than the last and with each squeeze of my pussy he seemed to grow harder and thicker inside me. He started to groan in earnest and with each sound, my desire grew and my body's need pressed harder.
Sensing that he was at the point of no return, I began to buck furiously against him, grinding my clit into his bone each time his cock reached its deepest point. Abandoning myself to the sensation was my only option once I felt my body tense with the inevitability of climax. He could sense it and began to murmur "yes, yes, yes" as his own release overcame him. He slammed my hips against his just as I started to contract. I pressed my clit hard onto him, pushing my hands down on his shoulders as my back arched. My orgasm gripped his exploding cock and drank the hot jets he pumped into me. Oh sweet heaven, what a union. This man. This man. This man.
We sat, joined and panting. My head on his shoulder, his arms around my waist.
"Oh what you do to me . . . you . . . you," he sighed. "You make me feel so fucking alive."
***
"It's still early in the States, right?" We were nearly ready to turn off the lights and snuggle ourselves to sleep when I had a sudden flash of worry about my parents. "I'd like to phone home."
"No problem," Tristan answered as he handed me his cell phone. "Please give them my regards." He got up out of bed.
"You needn't leave the room. I just want to check in on them." There wasn't anything he couldn't hear, but I found his gesture thoughtful anyway. He was unfailingly polite.
"Are you going to tell them where we are?" he grinned at me.
"Only partially. I know my parents already think the world of you but . . ."
"And you? Do you think the world of me?"
I had already dialed their number when he asked. I would very much have liked to tell him what I thought of him, but I had to settle for a nod of my head because Mom answered on the first ring.
"Hi Tristan," she said brightly. She probably programmed his number in her phone weeks ago.
"No, Mom, it's me. How is everything?"
"Everything's good, very quiet. Your father is itching to go back to work."
"Is that a good idea?"
"Well, Archie told us that the two creeps who beat Dad up are back in Chicago, at their union headquarters. With them gone and the two bodyguards with us, I can't imagine any trouble."
"Probably not."
"Besides, you father is going to drive me utterly insane. I am seriously worried about what I'm going to do when it's time for him to retire."
"I hear ya, Mom."
"So, where has he taken you?"
To the moon, to the stars, to heaven. "We're in France. Private jet, big yacht. The whole nine yards."
"It sounds wonderful. You're a lucky girl." It was odd to hear my mother say something like that. Normally she would have registered at least token disapproval. Most of the time it was easy for Mom to pretend that I was as celibate as a nun. Because most of the time I was. The few times that she had to acknowledge I was screwing some guy, she did so reluctantly. It was as if her motherly duty was to at least pay lip service to the moral code she had done a half-assed job of instilling in me. But this time, with Tristan, she seemed to approve, if not actually celebrate my misbehavior.
Was it the money? Did the thought of her daughter hooking up with a billionaire miraculously change her standards? As soon as I had those thoughts I felt ashamed of myself. No man--no boy, really--had ever so much as considered my parents. The few times I'd brought a guy home to meet them it was as if they were doing me a favor to even be there. Frankly, even I found the guys of my generation rude.
Now here comes Tristan, only seven or eight years older than I and he's like a knight in shining armor. No one asked him to step in and take charge. He could have easily ignored my parents' situation and I wouldn't have even noticed. But he didn't and in doing what he did may very well have saved my father's life. No wonder Mom was so infatuated with him. Who could blame her?
Who could blame me?
Four
We left the dock early the next morning. Tristan explained that we'd anchor off shore and take the little rubber dingy into the beach.
"You really don't want to stand in line for an hour waiting to get into the village," he told me. "Fortunately, it's September. I've never been here in August, but I'm told it's a real zoo. Most of Europe takes the entire month off."
We zipped close into shore and Kwan stopped the boat Tristan jumped into the water with a waterproof bag and I followed him. He told Kwan that we'd call when we were ready to be picked up. I watched the dingy disappear quickly toward the far end of the sands.
Paddling toward the sand at a leisurely pace, we used the waterproof bag as a float. I watched Tristan reach under the surface and wiggle himself out of his bathing suit.
"Is there a rule…I mean about being naked?"
"You're asking whether you're required to be in the buff?"
"Yes."
"I don't think there's a rule, per se. You'd just get some dirty looks--and not in a nice way. Naturists don't appreciate gawkers and that's what is assumed if a clothed person shows up on a nude beach, but mostly that applies to guys. You can certainly keep your bottoms on. Women often do, especially if they have their period."
"I think I'll start with that." I untied my top and slung it over the floating bag.
"Suit yourself. This isn't a test. We're here to have fun and be liberated. Just swimming naked like this feels great to me. I hate wearing a bathing suit. Especially when there's any hint of sand involved." He smiled and did a surface dive. I watched his tight ass crest the water and disappear for a moment.