Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jenna
We eat outside as the sun moves lower in the sky, readying itself for its final blaze of colour today.
At first, I thought we'd ordered too much food, but as I watch Marty using the last piece of bread to soak up the remaining pasta sauce lining his bowl, like he doesn’t know when he’ll eat again, I realise we both needed it.
It’s yet another thing I’d forgotten about companionship; the joy of satisfying an appetite with good food shared with good company.
Sharing a meal with a lover feels almost as intimate as sex.
There is certainly something sensual about the way Marty’s mouth works chewing his food and the satisfied grunt he makes as he swallows his last mouthful.
“So,” he says once he finally stops eating. “I have to confess something.”
“Oh, God,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “You're actually forty-eight, just with an excellent skin care routine.”
“No.” He winces. “It's my birthday tomorrow.”
I nearly choke on the sip of water I take. “What? So, you're actually twenty-five?”
“No, I'll be twenty-four tomorrow,” he says with a dimple-dipping grin. “Surely you know by now I'm a rounding-up kind of guy?”
“You’re actually twenty-three right now?” I ask, my voice and eyebrows high.
“Yes.”
I don’t know why my stomach plummets so dramatically, but I try my best to rein it in as a flash of disappointment or frustration, or something not at all good, momentarily lines his brow. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and he turns his attention to the view ahead.
“There’s some clouds in the sky tonight,” he says. “That will make the sunset look different.”
I take in Marty’s side profile, my eyes hitching on that bump in his nose and the dainty curl in his eyelashes. I see traces of his youth all over him, but I also see a man. A good man.
My stomach rights itself, and so do my thoughts.
I’m just about to tell him how his age doesn’t bother me, to reassure him and ask him what he wants to do for his birthday, but he’s standing up and stripping off his robe.
Then, naked, he runs and jumps into the pool like the big kid he also is.
The big kid I strongly suspect he will always be regardless of his age.
“Get in,” he calls to me when he surfaces.
“I just got clean,” I say.
“I'll have you dirty in no time again and you know it.” He splashes me.
I squeal at the shock of the water, but a moment later shrug my robe off. Following his footsteps, I run and jump, rolling my also naked body into a ball in the air. When I hit the water, I feel the smack, hear the splash, and love how the water caresses and cools the sting of the harsh landing.
I can't remember the last time I jumped into a pool like that, but I instantly promise myself it won't be the last. In fact, as I surface, I swim to the side and climb up the ladder to get out so I can do it again, this time scissoring my legs and arms open in a star jump, grateful the terrace isn’t overlooked.
The next time I leap up as high as I can and twist my body around like a corkscrew.
On my fourth jump I try to touch my toes and when I crash into the pool, the slap of the water is hard and sore against the back of my legs.
I emerge laughing so much I swallow a mouthful of water and end up coughing so hard I can't talk.
It's then I realise Marty is leaning his back against the infinity edge of the pool watching me, laughter wrinkling his face in all the right places.
“Jesus, you're a riot,” he says. “Are you okay? That was loud!”
I laugh more then and that does nothing to stop me coughing. When I finally feel like I can speak without spluttering, I swim the small distance over to him. “God, that was fun. Why haven't I been doing that all day every day since I got here?”
He snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “Because you've been doing me instead?”
“Can I do you again?” I ask after a moment's hesitation, suddenly nervous after that terrible joke I made earlier.
As if he reads my mind he says, “Are you asking me to service you?” He leans back so I can see his eyebrows bobbing up and down and his stupid, beautiful lips are pulled into a stupid, beautiful pout.
Buoyed by relief, I play along. “Yes, I'm asking you to service me so good I forget my name.” I wrap my legs around him.
“You'll never forget your name. Not when I'm growling it in your ear as I enter you.”
Looks like he can play this game too. I pout as I stare at him.
Game on, Marty, game on.
“And I'll say your name as you push inside me,” I begin. “I'll say your name every time you pull out only to go back in, filling me up, stretching me so good. I'll say your name when you hit that perfect spot deep inside me, the one that makes me so wet, the one that makes me come so hard.”
He hums in his throat as his teeth nip at my neck. “Jenna,” he says my name, full of want.
I continue, “And you know what happens when I come. When I squeeze you so hard and hold you so firmly inside me. When I grip all around you because it's exactly where I want you, where I need you,” I say then drop my voice even lower. “I need you inside me, Marty. I want you to fuck me.”
He pulls back to look at me then and I think he's going to say something back, but he doesn't. There is a second or two where he looks at me like he's seeing me for the first time and it's unnerving and I wonder if I pushed him too far, if my dirty talk was too much, but then his mouth dives down and takes mine and I can't breathe.
I can't breathe because his mouth is claiming mine and he is doing it with so much force, my nose is squashed against his and all my airways are blocked, but I don't care.
Our teeth clash and our tongues fight, and I can't remember the last time I kissed like this.
Maybe I never have. I add that to the growing list of things that have surprised me this week; you can kiss with teeth and really, really enjoy it.
“Marty,” I say pushing him a little so I can breathe and speak. “Condom.”
“Stay here,” he says and moves to the other side of the pool to get out, giving me the most perfect view of his arse and back muscles. “You still want to do it here?”
I turn my head and nod at the horizon. “Yes. Let’s fuck as we watch the sunset.”
And I get one of his stupid, beautiful grins before he runs off.
Seconds later he's jogging back, the foil square in his hand, and a beautifully semi-erect penis between his legs.
His feet slide on the wet tiles a moment after I yell out not to run, and we both laugh as he jumps back in, holding the condom up out of the water.
I meet him in the middle of the small pool and back him up to the metal ladder.
I reach down and stroke his cock, play with his balls, hear him say my name again as he kisses the side of my head.
“Climb up a bit.” I nod at the metal steps behind him.
He does, looking perplexed but when his penis is out of the water and my mouth is on it, licking and flicking and sucking, he relaxes and leans back against the side.
When I feel confident that he's fully erect and ready - his hips thrusting into my mouth - I pull off and take the condom from his hand and open it.
After I roll it on, I hold the base and squeeze, loving how hard he is for me.
I keep my hand there as he moves back into the water and his fingers cup me between my legs, rubbing as he backs me up against the infinity wall again.
“Marty,” I say, hoping he remembers what I said.
“Jenna,” he says as he takes my mouth while my hand moves his cock to where I want it.
“Marty,” I say as he pushes forward and his head crowns into me.
“Jenna,” he grunts as I hold him there, my hand around his base still, not letting him go any deeper yet.
“Marty,” I whisper into his ear as I slowly remove my fingers and he slides all the way in.
“Jenna.” He gasps as he bottoms out.
“Marty.” I moan as he rocks inside me.
“Jenna.” He laughs as his hands come up and play with my breasts.
“Marty.” I giggle as I lean back and stretch my arms out parallel with the skyline and sunset.
“Jenna.” He groans as he puts his hands on the pool's edge on either side of me and then thrusts up inside me, harder, deeper.
“Marty!” I call out as he hits the exact spot I was talking about.
“Jenna, Jenna, Jenna,” he says, rolling into me, pushing me back against the pool's edge so hard I know I'll have bruises there tomorrow and I don’t care. I want them. I want any kind of mark or scrape or graze that reminds me of this.
“Marty,” I mumble when he takes one hand off the pool's edge and finds my clit with his thumb.
“Jenna,” he says when he starts to rub me there.
We stay like that for the longest time. Him playing with me as he rubs me slow and fucks me fast. Us repeating each other’s names. But then he stops and slows the pace right down, even taking his hand off my clit, leaving me wriggling and writhing for more.
“Jenna,” Marty says. “You need to see the sunset.”
In a single movement, he pulls out of me, grabs me by the hips and turns me around so I can see the sun hanging low above the horizon, turning the sky and all its clouds varying shades of pink.
Some of the fluffy swirls are pastel shades of rose, and those closer to the sun are a vibrant hot pink.
The sun will be gone in the next twenty minutes and I have half a mind to ask him if we can just stay how we are fucking in the pool until it is completely descended, but when he slides back into me from behind, tilting my hips slightly and sweeping his hand around to cup me from the front too, I know I won't last that long even if he does.
There is something about the clouded splendour of this particular sunset that guts me, making me feel empty even though Marty is making me feel so very full.
This sunset, more than any other we’ve shared, seems to have a very clear message for me.
It’s a reminder that there will always be clouds.
There will always be days when clouds block the sun, but that doesn’t mean the sun isn’t still shining, still burning its gases, being the pull we all need to stay exactly where we are, where we’re supposed to be.
It’s a reminder that sometimes, clouds can be beautiful too.
“Jenna,” Marty says again, and his hand moves up to my neck, wraps around my throat and turns me so I can kiss him.
“Marty,” I say when our kiss breaks and I bend over lower and hold my body as steady as I can, pushing back so he can fuck me deeper.
“Yes, Jenna,” he says, and I hear the strain in his voice, a tone I now know means he's close. I put a hand in the water and find my clit so I can meet him. It takes no time at all.
“Yes, Marty.” I gasp as my orgasm charges through my pussy, my stomach, my thighs. “Marty, fuck, yes!”
Just as my body stops shuddering from my release, I feel Marty shiver behind me as he gives a series of short, hard thrusts.
He grunts out my name as he stops moving and I lean back against him to hold myself up.
I close my eyes to the golden pink hues that now fill the sky.
Wincing at the dull but so sweetly satisfying ache in my pussy that comes as he slips out of me, I welcome the warmth of his body when he wraps his arms around my waist.
“Jenna,” Marty says his chin on my shoulder. His lips are kissing my skin, soothing the sunburn I know I have there despite our best efforts today.
“Marty,” I say back because his name is the only thing that fills my mind right now.
“Jenna?” he says again and it's a question now.
“Marty,” I reply like a Yes.
“Can I stay the night?” he asks in a voice that is more hesitant than usual.
Stay forever, I think as I drift into a post-orgasmic haze. Stay forever, like this, here with me.
“Yes, Marty, stay.” I turn my back on the very last minutes of the sunset and close my eyes against his warm wet chest, knowing happily that he will watch it for both of us.