Chapter 4 from my micro-story, New England Law & Hotness
Bree and Brody figure out their future – at least for the summer. Hook-up sex ensues.
Authors Note: This is the final chapter for this serial. It was fun to write, but time to move on to a new story and characters. This one ends with ends with a bang.
Text Conversation with Ex-BF:
Will: “Hey, it’s me. I heard from Rachel about what happened. You okay?”
Bree: “Hey. Good to hear from you. It’s been a bit. I’m shaken up but doing fine.”
Will: “Is there anything I can do to help? I know things ended not great between us but I miss you. Maybe we can go for a drink and catch up.”
Bree: “What about what’s her name?”
Will: “We’re not together anymore. Broke up a week ago. Drink? No expectations. Just talking.”
Bree: “Sure. It would be good to talk.”
Will: How’s tomorrow night at the Riptide? Say 8.”
Bree: “Works for me. See you then.”
I knew the moment I’d agreed to meet with Will that it had been a mistake.
We’d dated for three years during college, so I knew him as well as I knew anyone.
Do I think for one minute that he would have contacted me if he was still with his new girlfriend?
Not a chance. Will, as I’d come to realize, was shallow. He was interested in one thing and one thing only. Getting in my pants.
So why risk the emotional baggage that would most certainly come from an encounter with him?
Well, there were several reasons, but the one that drove me to agree to meet him was to get some answers.
I’d given Will three years of my life. I’d given him everything he wanted and all it got me was two months of loyalty, and I doubt it was that long.
Of the many questions I had for him, I wanted to know how long he’d been cheating on me. Had it been while we were together? Had he been with this other woman in the months before I’d left for Syracuse?
To be clear, there was nothing Will could say to get me to sleep with him. If he was honest, maybe I could forgive him, but the notion that I would let him between my legs again was not on. I was off men except on my terms.
Tonight, when we met, we’d have a conversation like adults, and when I was satisfied I’d gotten what I could get out of him by way of explanations or excuses, I’d end it. Just as he’d done to me.
Will Blatchford was dead to me sexually, and when I walked out of The Riptide tonight, he’d know there was no future between us as lovers.
It was me who was in control, not my ex or some hunky cop with a set of killer blue eyes. I got to choose who I slept with, who I sucked off and who I fell in love with. Me, Bree Bennette — I was in control and was going to prove that to myself tonight.
I had done it. It wasn’t easy, but I’d done it. Will had tried every trick in the book to get me to come back to his place but I’d said no each and every time.
And as I’d walked out of the bar and made my way back to my car, my pussy was a drenched mess.
My biology and at least some part of my heart had wanted to go with Will back to his place and let him fuck me all night, but at each moment of weakness, the bitterness of being thrown to the curb for another woman saved me.
As I reached my car and opened the door, I said aloud, “Truly, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and thank goodness for that.”
Sitting down, I pulled up my phone and dialled Brody Blaine’s number.
“Hello,” Brody’s Boston-accented voice said on picking up.
“Brody, it’s Bree.”
“Hey…”
I cut him off. “Are you working?”
“Just finishing a shift at the Yankee. Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
“Everything’s fine. Listen, can you meet me at your boat?”
“Ya, I can make it there in about thirty minutes or so. What’s up?”
Quickly, I said, “Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”
Hanging up the phone, I started my car and as quickly as I might, I drove to my parents’ place. In my determination not to sleep with Will, I had chosen to wear a comfortable bra and panty set that were cute but wouldn’t set a man’s desire aflame.
For what I hoped was about to happen, they would not do. Not one little bit.
Brody was sitting in the Nightingale’s cockpit when I arrived.
As I reached the boat in the long flowing white sundress I was wearing, he stood up and helped me board.
Safely on the boat and with a curious look on his face, Brody said, “What’s up, Ms. Bennette?”
In two strides, I had grabbed him by the taught Yankee’s Anchor t-shirt and pulled him into me. Looking up into his sexy blue eyes, I said, “I went for drinks tonight with my ex, and he tried desperately to get me to go back to his place, but I didn’t. Do you want to know why?”
“Why?” Brody said, his voice quiet.
“Because all I could think about was fucking you.”
Rising up on my toes, I pressed my lips onto his. Mouths open, our tongues danced with each other like the desperate lovers we both were.
Pulling away from him, I said, take me below. I have something I want to show you.
Taking my hand, Brody led me to the cabin, which was already open.
Inside, he’d taken the initiative to light candles so that the space was aglow, warm and hugely fucking sexy.
As he stood in front of me and poured his eyes into mine, I said to him, “The door or portal, or whatever you call an entrance on a boat. Can you close us in?”
“I can,” he said.
As he stepped past me, I took a step into the middle of the cabin and turned to wait for him.
On placing the final lacquered slat into its position, he turned back to me and again took me in with his eyes. This time, when his eyes met mine, I could see they were filled with hunger.
As Brody watched, both of my hands moved to the thin straps of my dress. One at a time, I removed them from my shoulders, allowing my dress to cascade to my high-heeled feet.
In the flickering candle light, my normally white skin glowed the colour of honey. I had chosen to wear a scandalously thin white thong and a sheer bra that worked magic on my b-cup tits.
“Do you like?” I teased.
In a quiet but commanding voice, Brody said, “Turn around. I’ve wanted to see that incredible ass of yours since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
Without hesitation, I turned and took a step toward the narrowed transition space that led to the v-berth. Reaching out, I placed both my hands on the portal that led to the front of the boat. Leaning forward, I widened my legs and then arched my back so that my pretty ass showed itself off perfectly.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” I heard Brody whisper reverently behind me.
“You like it?”
“Yes, Bree. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Then come take it. Ruin me, Brody. I want you to fuck me on every square inch of your boat tonight. Claim me, Brody Blaine. Claim me as yours because you’re what I want. I want a real fucking man to fuck me this summer.”
As I continued to look forward, I listened to the chiselled New England stud shed his clothing. A second later, he was behind me and had placed his calloused hands on my hips and the end of his cock against the still-covered entrance of my soaking snatch.
While pressing the head of his tool into my cunny, slowly and firmly, he began to knead the flesh of my ass, my back and then my shoulders.
As I pressed my ass backward and felt the fabric of my thong strain under the pressure of Brody’s rock-hard dick, one of his hands took up a handful of my hair and none-to-gently he yanked my head upward and through a growl, said, “Pull that thong out of your cunt so I can fuck your tight little pussy, Bree.”
“Fuck, yes! Take control, Brody. Fuck my wet pussy,” I cried out, my words of encouragement filling the cabin.
Both of my hands flew to my ass, and I quickly pulled the thin piece of fabric from my slit.
My entrance free and clear, I could feel the crown of my new lover’s thick cylinder begin to push into me.
Slick with my cream, my pussy lips instantly gave way to the invading force that was Brody’s cock.
Halfway into me, Brody slowed his roll, reefed on my hair a second time and said, “I’m gonna go balls deep, Bree. You’re so fucking wet and tight.”
Mewling over my shoulders, I said, “Don’t hold back. I want you bad, baby. Destroy me!”
Releasing my hair, both of Brody’s hands latched onto my hips and he drove into me.
I grunted as I endured the assault and then said, “Fuck you’re big. So much bigger than my ex. Jesus, pound me, Brody!”
After half a dozen cautious strokes to make sure I could accommodate him, Brody picked up his pace and began to properly piston into my perfectly groomed cunny.
A minute into the railing, my body started to flash the various warning signs that I was on the cusp of glorious release. “Brody, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. That’s it, fuck my tight pussy just like that. A little longer. Oh, god! I’m cumming! I’m cumming,” I howled.
His thrusts unrelenting, my body careened into what had to be one of the more visceral orgasms I’d ever had. Without warning, snaps of highly charged ecstasy rifled through my body. Screaming incoherently, I pressed my ass backward so as to try to amplify the bolts of pleasure that had brought tears to my eyes and a weakness to my knees.
Sensing I was about to lose control and fall off his dick, Brody grabbed my waist and rushed me forward until my stomach was on top of the V-birth’s cushion.
Still in me and continuing to rut my cunt like a savage, Brody called out to me, “I’m gonna come, Bree. Where do you want it?”
Without hesitation, I called over my shoulder, “Fill me, baby. Give me all of your seed.”
On hearing my words, the pace of his fucking increased and just as the last vestiges of my orgasm left my body, Brody’s own climax took off.
Moving his hands from my hips to my shoulders, with one final mighty thrust and a primal grunt, he drove his dick into me as deep as he could.
Through the sensitive nerve endings that were the walls of my tight box, I felt his first cum shot launch into me.
Calling out my name, Brody pulled on my shoulders and pressed his pelvis into me harder releasing his second rope of semen.
Feeling his cum start to pool inside of me, I whimpered, “There’s so much, Brody. Jesus, you’re a fucking stud. Give me all of it.”
Responding to my encouragement, Brody’s hands relaxed on my shoulders while his hips began to gently shimmy his cock up and down the length of my cunt all the while unloading more of his cream.
His balls finally spent, I felt his bulky chest press into my back. His mouth beside my ear, he whispered, “Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to fuck me all summer?”
“Yes,” I said quickly and added, “You fuck well, Detective.”
His dick still hard, he thrust into me and said, “Good, because there are so many things I want to do to you. So many bad and nasty things.”
“Nasty, eh? But I thought you were a nice guy, Brody Blaine?” I said, my voice teasing.
“I’m a cop, Bree. I’m nice until I’m not.”
I wiggled my ass at the mention of his profession and said, “Good, Mr. Police Officer, because I want you to show me all the little tricks a man knows after thirty rotations around the sun. I want to learn everything you have to teach me.”
“Everything?” Brody said quietly into my ear.
“Everything and the nastier, the better.”
Without warning, Brody rose off my body and pulled his tool out of my cum-drenched hole.
As I looked forward into the boat’s main sleeping area, I heard a movement behind me and then felt Brody’s tongue slide along the full length of my slit from clit to my asshole.
As my body shivered at the unexpected touch, Brody’s hands pulled my labia apart, and he started to lick and suck my destroyed snatch with reckless abandon.
“Oh my god, Brody — you are nasty,” I moaned as the pace of his pussy eating became even more aggressive.
After a minute of gorging on my creamy pinkness, Brody switched out his mouth and tongue for a pair of fingers, so he could begin to gently massage the spongy area of my pussy that was my g-spot.
Fingering me doggy style, in a husky voice, Brody said, “I’m going to ruin you, Ms. Bennette. I’m going to corrupt your young, tight slutty pussy, so I’m all you think about when you go back to school.”
When I moaned and wiggled my ass in response to his words, he said, “You like the sound of that Bree? You want to be my slut for the summer, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly.
“Yes, what?” Brody asked in a powerful tone.
“Yes, I wanna be a slut for you, Brody!”
Quickly, I added, “Jesus, faster. Finger me faster. I’m almost there.”
On hearing my words, Brody’s otherwise unengaged arm snaked around my waist, and in one powerful movement, he hoisted my body up so my knees were on the v-berth’s cushions.
Lowering my chest and shimmying my legs wide, I gave Brody unfettered access to my elevated private area.
With his two fingers still buried and prodding all the right parts of my cunny, I felt his tongue press and then prod into the pink star that was my asshole.
That did it.
My second orgasm came on like a wave of intimate bliss. With Brody’s fingers and mouth touching me in all the right ways, I moaned, “Fuck!” and then added in a voice filled with awe, “It feels so good, Brody. You’re making me cum, baby.”
As I came down from my high, I felt Brody’s fingers and mouth leave my body.
Lowering myself to lie on the bed, I turned my head so I could look at my new lover.
His body glowing in the soft candlelight, Brody’s incredible body looked ethereal and oh so fucking hot. His eyes, blue and intense, were projecting a look that suggested he was ready to be inside me again.
While I soaked up the scrutiny, I shifted my body so I was on my back. Slowly, I opened my legs wide, placed my hands on my knees and pulled back so as to expose as much of my pretty pinkness as could be managed.
My eyes narrowed, and with as much lust as I could inject into my voice, I said to the sculpted man who was hungrily taking in my displayed intimate parts and said, “Take me again Brody. Take your summer-time slut.”
Hook-up sex; Romantic sex
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