18 comments/ 84860 views/ 18 favorites The Boy at the Beach House By: harding Jenni Adams parked her rusted pickup behind the Harper house and killed the engine, sat at the wheel as an east wind brought rain over the steep shingle roof and drove it hard against the windshield. The surf would be big today and she anticipated a fight getting through the waves. She wanted this moment to last, sitting perfectly still, letting the urge to swim build inside, the anticipation almost sexual. For Jenni, a lot of things were almost sexual. She was considering her life, her future, and whether a place existed for the couple staying in the beach house next door. She needed to decide two things -- hell, at least two, but let's get those nailed down to begin with, she thought. The first was a biggie. She believed the time had come for her to give serious thought to leaving her husband. By comparison, the second was easy. Which of the two people staying in the beach house did she want to make love with most? And then, with a shiver: why not both? Together? Neither came with any easy answer. She had been here before, nagging away at what to do about her marriage, like a tongue probing a sore tooth, with pretty much the same result. Leave well alone; worrying only makes the pain worse. Except now the marriage, like an ignored tooth, had reached a point where she had to do something. As for the couple next door, the couple with the baby? Well, she guessed that was mostly wishful thinking. Jenni had come to the beach to swim, same as she did nearly every day of the year, summer or winter. September came and the Harpers returned home, letting Jenni know the house was hers to use whenever she wanted. She would drive over the spine of the island from town and park on the rough sand and grass strip behind the house, change into her swimwear, then use the electric shower indoors when she returned from the ocean. Even though Kate and Tim were good friends, even though they said use the place whenever she liked, some faint guilt touched her each time because this was their house. She felt like an intruder; although less of one now than she had, after what happened two years before. The Boy at the Beach House Jenni turned again, twisting to stare over her shoulder, noticing the way skin tightened along her side, outlining the lower ribs. Good ass, she thought, round and tight, narrow hips and slim thighs. A horizontal ledge showed between her legs and she leaned forward, putting her palms flat on the floor, shocked at the wave of arousal crashing through her and stared back between her legs at full pussy lips, shivering at the sight and knowing she was not doing herself any favors. Turning herself on was going to get her exactly nowhere other than back on the bed with her hand between her legs. Temptation pulled at her, and on any other day she might have given in. She frequently resorted to pleasuring herself, at least every other day. Mark seemed not to care about sex anymore, and when he did the act was always short and brutish, often as not accompanied by minor violence. Today was different and Jenni knew the reason why. Today was Paul's birthday. Today he turned eighteen, and although Jenni acknowledged her thoughts were foolish she couldn't help wondering if she might have something to offer him. Foolish, because absolutely nothing -- nothing -- was going to happen. The hopeless fantasy warmed her, making her wet between the legs, and she nourished that warmth, allowing the arousal to seep through her body, stiffening her nipples and bringing a flush to her neck. Tuesday through Friday were good days, quiet days when she would go to the beach and check everyone had what they needed, nothing was broken or damaged, ask if anyone needed help or advice. Dressed in cut off denims and a tank top, her mismatched bikini worn beneath, a change of underclothes in the pickup, she parked behind the Harper house at eleven. As she came around the side she found them all on the porch. Paul had his long legs up on the railing, binoculars to his face. Kate and Tim drank coffee, working their way slowly through a pile of fresh chocolate brownies. "Hey, Jen, come and have a birthday brownie." She laughed. "I don't want to spoil the party." "Since when could you ever spoil anything," Kate said. "Come up here. Paul, get Jenni a coffee." Paul dropped his legs off the rail and went inside. He came back a minute later with a plain white mug steaming good fresh coffee aroma. The smell hit Jenni and she had no choice but to sit and savor. "How's the swimming," she said to Paul. "Think you can beat me now you're an adult?" She held his gaze, trying to communicate something even though she wasn't sure what exact message she was trying to send. "Oh yeah, I'm so much older than when you beat me yesterday," he said. "You're going to try though?" Jenni asked. "What do you think?" She sipped her coffee and nodded. "I think you are." "Are you going swimming now?" Kate asked. "Because Tim and I need to go to town after lunch, so if you're going to stay for the birthday lunch as well, Jen, you'd better swim now." "We can always do both, Grams," Paul said. "Before and after lunch. Once Jenni's tired I might stand a chance." "In your dreams, young 'un," Jenni laughed. She saw Paul smile, a secret inner smile and it sent a shiver through her. "I think they've forgotten to buy me anything for my birthday," Paul said, "so they've got to go into town and find something quick." "You won't be quick if you're looking for a present in town," Jenni said. "Or maybe you will, because there's not much!" "We have something we need to do," Tim said, his face pleasant but closed. "Let's go humiliate you then," Jenni said. "Again." Paul grinned and stood up, stretching his muscles. Jenni went round the back and stripped her denims and tank top off and walked back to the bottom of the porch. "Why don't you let me give you one of my old suits, Jen?" Kate asked. "I don't use them now, and I'm sure they would fit you." Jenni shook her head, long tresses brushing her shoulders. "This is my lucky outfit, Kate. If I change now Paul might beat me." "We can't have that," Kate said. They walked down to the line of surf. Families, kids, teenagers and old folks dotted the sand, sun loungers arrayed, balls bounced, romances sparked. Jenni glimpsed the sixteen year old girls staying in the Bradley house talking with two boys their own age. Jenni guessed Paul had missed his chance, despite his protests he wasn't interested. The girls were cute in tiny bathing suits, white zinc on their pretty noses. When their swim was over and they returned from the water the sun said midday, Paul laughing because Jenni had beaten him again, but only by twenty yards. "I'll get you after lunch," he said. "You are staying for my birthday lunch, aren't you?" "I'm not sure I should, Paul. You ought to be spending your birthday with family." "I am," he said. "But I'd like if you stayed as well." He slowed and when Jenni turned her head it was to see him staring hard at her, staring into her eyes as they met his, and the flutter started up in her belly and she wondered if Paul noticed her nipples suddenly peaking against her top. "I'll think about it," she said, knowing the argument, if one ever existed, was already lost. She showered and changed, pulling clean underwear over her still damp body and when she knocked on the door and went in the table was laid with fish, mango salsa, fruit, bottles of wine beaded with moisture, and a small chocolate birthday cake decorated with eighteen unlit candles. As soon as they had finished eating Tim put a match against each candle and placed the cake in the center of the table. "All at once," he said. "Then you get to make a wish." Paul leaned over the table and blew. He blew long and hard until every candle was extinguished. He closed his eyes and kept them shut for half a minute. "Some wish!" Tim said. Paul opened his eyes, blushing, glancing shyly at Jenni. "Might as well make it worthwhile. I'm only going to be eighteen once, even if this is my second party." "Ah, youth," Tim sighed. "Okay," Kate said. "Let's clear up then we really have to scoot." "We'll do this, Grams," Paul glanced at Jenni. "If that's okay with you?" "Do you mind, Jen?" Kate asked. "It doesn't seem right asking you to a party and then letting you and the birthday boy clean up, but we could use the extra time in town." "Sure," Jenni said. Something had loosened inside her over lunch. Perhaps two glasses of wine had something to do with it, perhaps something else, but her skin tingled with anticipation. She was, she reminded herself, only seven years older than this young man. Okay, eight years older; but eight years was nothing. As his grandparents drove off Jenni helped Paul stack dishes in the machine, knowing she could not prevent herself instigating the next step. What happened after that was up to Paul. The Boy at the Beach House "Nn-uhn," he grunted, and Jenni smiled. "Well, you're gonna make some girls real happy real soon, babe. Real happy." He pulled her clit deep into his mouth, his fingers joining the mix, pushing a little roughly between her thighs, two fingers entering her and Jenni felt the time arrive when she was incapable of holding back any longer. "Yeah, go on honey, do me now," she gasped. It had been years since anyone had done this for her. Mark considered the act to be filthy, said more than once he couldn't understand why a man would want to do something as perverted and gross. Paul was doing great though, so good for his first time, so, so good... Jenni pushed up against his face, pushing hard and fast, riding against his mouth, making his fingers slip and move inside her. She reached down and grabbed his free hand, placed it on her breast, pulled at her other nipple herself as the peak started deep inside and grew fast. "Oh, yes!" she gasped, and Paul sucked her clitoris harder and faster as she rode against him, for a moment the world spinning away from her, spinning far away before coming back with a bang and she cried out, riding the wave until sated. Her body went slack, still tremored with twitches and shivers. Jenni grabbed Paul's hair, tugging him up, not caring if she hurt him, pulling him up to kiss her. "Thanks, honey," she said into his mouth. "Thank you," he said, the perfect gentleman. "That was... something else." "It surely was," Jenni said, planting kisses on his lips and cheeks, "and we ain't done yet." He looked at her. "Are we going to?" She nodded. "What about... uh, precautions?" "All taken care of," she said. After her swim Jenni had taken her cap, the one she rarely used, and inserted the device inside herself. Paul looked down at her. Jenni reached for his beautiful cock and circled his thick shaft. "I think I can last a little longer this time," Paul said, and his sudden seriousness made her break up. "Oh God, honey, I like the sound of that. Come on, I'm ready." She wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, her hand still on his cock, guiding him to the moistness of her entrance. The thick head of his cock touched her, resting against the engorged lips of her pussy and she pushed against him. Paul wasn't experienced enough to tease, and she didn't want to draw this out. As he entered her Jenni clasped her heels against his back and pulled him deep inside. She examined his face as he sank into her, watched the way his pupils bloomed. He stared back at her, the shy boy gone, the start of a confident man growing and Jenni experienced a huge wave of affection for him, so glad she could do this for him. Do this for herself as well... probably, she thought, if I'm being honest, mostly for myself. "Go on," she said. "Hard. I want you to fuck me hard." The coarseness of her words excited them both. Paul moved against her, working solidly, his cock extending so deep inside she wondered where it reached but still trying to impale herself even harder onto him. Already the urge had blossomed from a pinpoint inside and Jenni knew this was going to be fast again. The pinprick grew as Paul pounded into her. Sweat gathered on his chin and dripped to her breasts. His fists dug into the sofa either side of her waist and she loved the concentration on his face, loved the fact he was close to coming, the idea exciting her even more. "Fuck me," she whispered, drawing her lips up to his ear. "I want you to fuck me, honey." She didn't think he could move any faster but somehow he managed and his cock became a constant thrum inside her, touching every nerve ending she had, trembling hard as the joy cascaded through her body. "Yes," she gasped. "Do me, babe, do me like that..." He grunted, Jenni ready too, the first spasm erupting and becoming a flood deep inside, tipping her beyond pleasure and into chaos, crying out and gripping his shoulders, biting his arm, jerking and trembling against him, his entire naked body pressed against her and she still couldn't get enough of him. When he finally brought her back to reality by drawing away Jenni glanced down to find his cock still hard. "Do we have time?" he asked. Jenni rolled over, leaning her arms on the sofa and lifting her ass high into the air. "This way," she said, and Paul lodged himself between her legs. His hands gripped her waist and confident now he guided himself home, pressing deep between her thighs, his cock once more filling her pussy. This time they took their time, their movements gentler, more loving. The first times had been all wild lust and passion, this one was soft and filled with affection. Paul worked himself inside her, a fast learner, his belly slapping against her ass on each stroke, and Jenny reached back and pulled her cheeks apart, knowing she was displaying her asshole to him, wanting to display herself. He stroked her back, touching the valley running along her spine, held her ass, gripping her cheeks tight inside his hands. Jenni pushed back harder, wanting him to do something but not wanting to ask him, shy herself now at what she needed him to do. He leaned over and kissed her back, reached beneath and cradled her breast in his palm, so full she overflowed his hand. He gripped her hips again, working himself deeper. He ran a finger along her spine and down along the crack of her ass and Jenni reached back and parted herself again. His fingertip touched her budded asshole and she twitched. Jenni felt Paul hesitate as he realized how sensitive this spot was for her. His finger returned and Jenni put her head down and grunted. "Yes, honey... touch me right there." She said the words, spoke them aloud, allowing her need into the open. Paul touched her again, and this time his finger returned slick with his saliva. He pressed, lightly at first, as though uncertain, but when she offered no resistance the pressure increased and his finger invaded her most taboo of places. As though a signal had been given their slow love making increased in pace. Paul pounded harder and faster. His finger probed deeper into her ass. Jenni pushed back against him, ready again, encouraging him on. She peaked, tipped over and still when she came back he had not come and she thrilled because it wasn't finished, grunting at him, not words but her meaning clear and he pounded harder, his finger popping free of her ass so he could grip both hands on her hips, needing to work harder, deeper, and Jenni heard him breathing hoarsely, the tension in his body peaking and he cried out, emptying inside her again, so young, so much potential, filling her once more and his climax triggered her own and she pressed her curled up fists into the cushions and bit on her bottom lip.