Learning Together 02 - Stolen Moments

The weeks since that night had been a haze of responsibilities and unsatisfied urges. Stephanie threw herself into finals prep like her scholarship depended on it--because it did. Jeff, meanwhile, was buried in AP tests, senior projects, and the looming countdown to graduation. They barely had time to breathe, let alone be alone.

But that didn't stop them. They stole what they could.

Mom didn't help their cause. She hadn't worked for as long as either of them could remember. Dad did well enough to support them all. They weren't rich, but he was good at what he did, and they were certainly comfortable.

If there was even the hint of an opportunity, they took it. Hurried kisses in dark hallways. Frantic touches exchanged behind doors that never stayed closed for long. Stephanie would grab Jeff's shirt and pull him into her room for a breathless make-out session--only to shove him away the second footsteps echoed down the hall. Jeff did his best to move like a ninja from one of his anime, learning how to sneak, or how to time things. He was also trying to mask his raging hormones with casual conversation whenever their parents were home--which felt like always.

The constant buildup of unsatisfied want was becoming a pressure cooker of need. And in turn, they started getting bolder. But also, more reckless.

One night, while their parents sat watching a movie, with mom in sprawled out on the couch and dad sitting in his recliner, Jeff and Stephanie snuggled in on the love seat behind them under a blanket. Her leg draped over his, when her hand slid beneath the fabric of his sweats with no warning, completely shocking him. But there was no way he was going to object. After the initial shock and looking over to see the slight smirk she was clearly trying to keep off her face, while watching TV as though nothing was happening, he responded in kind. After a moment of arms bumping and shifting to accommodate, he slipped his fingers beneath her pajama shorts, finding her already wet and eager.

They didn't speak. They didn't move above the waist. They just sat perfectly still, staring at the screen, with nothing more than the occasional peak at the other out of the corner of their eye.

Then dad stood up.

The froze under the blanket with no way to untangle themselves before he turned in their direction. Weeks of sneaking had at least trained them to look normal. They sat as though they were just watching the movie, except for a quick glance from Jeff up at his dad with a token smile, and getting a forced smile in return. In an attempt to avoid further eye contact, Jeff quickly looked back to the TV.

Once the coast was clear and their dad had left the room, they both slowly withdrew their hands--too afraid to push their luck.

Still denied. Again.

But now there was a new problem: sticky hands and no discreet way to wipe them. Mom's throw blanket was definitely off limits, so they just sat there in silence, hands still hidden, hoping they'd dry under the cover of the blanket.

It was reckless, the way they'd touched each other on the couch while their parents watched TV feet away. It was idiotic. Dangerous.

And completely addictive.

Another afternoon, with their mom busy in the kitchen making plenty of noise, Stephanie had come into Jeff's room and with no preamble, she was in his lap, straddling him in his desk chair. Their urgency knocking one of Jeff's gaming controllers to the floor as their lips collided and his hands roamed under the hem of her tank top. In a futile attempt to reach into his pants, her hands had immediately gone towards his waistband, only to be thwarted by the unyielding denim and his belt. Leaving her questioning why a high school boy would even be wearing a belt with jeans in the first place.

As her hands stroked his abdomen as she contemplated trying to make another attempt to free him, or snake inside, but before it could go further, the hardwood floors sounded the alarm of mom coming. It was a scramble to part, hearts racing, and pretending like she was trying to help him understand a lit question. When she finally reached the door asking what the clatter was she'd heard a moment ago, Stephanie was casually semi bent over pointing in a book as though nothing was going on.

And so, they waited. Again.

Jeff couldn't help thinking things would be easier if they didn't live under the same roof. It was hard enough coming up with reasons to leave the house when dad expected him in his room every minute of every day studying--but coming up with reasons why Stephanie had to leave with him? Nearly impossible.

They kept telling themselves that freedom was close. School was nearly over, summer was on the horizon, and today, the weekend had arrived wrapped in warm, glorious sunshine.

Typically, Jeff wasn't too concerned what the weather was outside, as long as it wasn't a storm that'd knock out the electricity or his internet. And it certainly hadn't been warm enough long enough to warm up the pool to Jeff's liking, but Stephanie thought it was just right for stretching out and soaking up the sun.

Stephanie lay stretched out on a lounger in her red bikini. Never had she been so bold as to wear anything like this before today. Sure, she'd worn bikinis, but always with some modesty even, when sunning, but if someone was around to see her... She wouldn't dare go beyond a bottom that covered nearly as much as her leotard. And that essentially covered her whole butt. And as for her breasts? She always chose full-support tops--compression-style--like she was heading to the gym, not the backyard.

Not today though. She had pulled together every ounce of courage she had, went out as soon as the stores opened and bought a brand-new bikini.

Already becoming accustomed to Jeff's constant words adoration and looks of wonder, she wanted more. As cliché as it may sound, the only way to describe his looks was like that of a kid looking at a pile of presents under the Christmas tree. While many of the guys at college looked at her with similar thoughts of what they wanted to do to her as Jeff did, she was always to self-conscience to have ever been aware of it.

So today was different. Today she came home from the store, went straight to her room and put on her new bright red bikini that yelled "look at me." There was no support in the top, just a soft lightweight material that did nothing to restrict, or hide, any movement her full breasts chose to make. The bottoms were cut high on the legs, drawing attention to her hips, didn't even make it halfway across her well-toned butt. On her, it felt like she was lucky if they covered a quarter of her butt. Where her usual suit hit right at the base of her cheeks, this one left them near fully exposed. There was no hiding the fullness of her backside in this. She only wished she had eyes in the back of her head so she could see the look on Jeff's face whenever she managed to walk in front of him.

She wasn't ready to dive into a thong. Not enough confidence for that yet. Besides it'd be weird for mom or dad to see her in that. These were bad enough. A lifetime of gymnastics already had her cheeks trying to make even this bit of material disappear between them when she walked.

When Jeff didn't even realize she'd come back home, he was so engrossed in a raid on his game. But when he saw her walk past his bedroom door in that new bikini on her way out to the pool, he tried to log off from his game as fast as he could, telling his friends his dad needed him for something and sounded upset in the hopes they wouldn't be mad he was bailing on them. It still took him nearly 5 minutes, and then nearly tripped over himself getting changed into swim trunks.

Stepping outside, Jeff just barely managed to keep from slamming the sliding door behind him in his rush to join Stephanie. She was already lying mostly reclined on one of the loungers, and it looked like she'd put on sunscreen. Or was it suntan lotion? He wasn't sure, but what he did know is that it made her skin look wet and slick to the touch, and his brain was already imagining his hands sliding over her.

Stephanie never moved as he walked across the patio, taking the seat beside her. She was stretched out, with her head tilted back and her sunglasses on. He'd never seen her look like this. Her red bikini nearly made him forget how to function.

Looking in the direction of the pool, he offered "Pool's still cold," trying to sound casual even though his voice cracked halfway through.

Stephanie lifted her head just slightly and peeked over her glasses. "Good thing I'm not in it, then." Fighting her lips from forming into her signature smirk before she laid her head back down. "Sun's perfect though."

Jeff sat on the second lounger eyeing the little brown bottle on the ground next to her. He was close enough to smell her, thinking he'd never wanted to eat coconut more in his life than he did in right now.

"Did you... uh, get a new swimsuit?" he asked, despite knowing full well she had. It was impossible not to notice. The top barely kept up with her curves, and the bottom--he was trying not to stare, but God, the bottom. From the front he could inches beyond the bend in her thigh where as her normal bikini would've started right at that bend. And while it was no string bikini, middle fabric running up was relatively narrow as well considering her typical preferences.

Stephanie chuckled softly, not opening her eyes. "You mean this old thing I've definitely had for all of... two hours?" She finally turned her head to look at him albeit bashfully to find him overtly staring. "Yeah. I thought you might like it."

Jeff's mouth opened but no words came out. He just nodded, a little too fast.

"I mean, it's probably too much, right?" she added, in a moment of weakness as her nerves started to get the better of her. A nervous fidget drew her hand to the thin strap on her shoulder, which only made things worse, shifting the little material that was there. "The tops a little difficult to keep in place," she complained, instantly regretting saying it out loud.

"No! I mean--not too much. It's..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You look amazing."

Stephanie turned her head toward him. "Thanks," she said softly. "I was hoping you'd think so."

He looked away, tried not to make her feel self-conscious, as well as hide his own nerves, but he couldn't help the way his eyes kept drifting back. "I like it," he said, quietly.

Stephanie had laid her head back down and didn't answer right away. Finally replying, "Thanks. I mean, it's kinda a lot. Or kinda not a lot? You know what I mean," she finally finished with a nervous sigh thinking of how exposed she was and that she just needed to stop talking.

"It's not. It's perfect."

She couldn't fight the smile that reached the corner of her lips.

A few more seconds passed with only the sounds of birds and the faint buzz of a neighbor's mower in the distance. Jeff sat with his elbows resting on his knees, unsure of whether to keep talking or let her be. He still struggled to talk even with her, in moments like this. As he sat there, he watched a bead of sweat trail from her collarbone down the valley between her breasts and forced himself to look away.

She shifted, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once again. "It's hot today," she said, almost to herself, fidgeting more than adjusting her strap.

"Yeah."

Taking off her sunglasses, Stephanie stood up without another word and walked toward the pool. She did want to cool down, but the real idea was to heat Jeff up, just for fun. It was the purpose of the bikini after all. Jeff made no effort to hide that he was staring this time. He didn't even try to look away. Her bikini showed everything it was supposed to--and a few things it probably wasn't, based on the way it looked like it was bunching towards the middle. The whole view made his mouth go dry.

She paused at the edge, standing there a moment, looking down at the water. Then, without giving herself time to think, she jumped in feet first with a small splash.

"Holy crap, it's freezing!" she gasped, catching her breath the moment her head was above water. Without further hesitation, she started swimming back to the edge where she jumped in, it being the closest spot to her.

Jeff laughed. "Yeah. I did mention that." Still laughing, he stood and moved to help her out. She didn't need it, and he knew that, but he still offered his hand anyway.

She pulled herself up until one knee was on the pool deck before taking his hand. As she stood, shivering, the warmth of the sun already felt like a gift.

"Oh my God--" she said through exaggeratedly chattering teeth, as she bent forward squeezing the water from her hair with both hands.

When she turned her head to get some more of the water out, her eyes dropped--and landed squarely on the bluge in Jeff's shorts. Her cheeks flushed instantly and she straightened up with a smile. "Aren't those things supposed to have, like, a second layer or something to keep that thing down?"

Jeff, made no attempt to hide that he was looking at her chest, nor did he try to hide his grin. "They do. It just... only works so well." He tilted his head slightly. "And you're one to talk. Like you've got any room to talk about stuff sticking out."

Stephanie followed his gaze down to her chest and let out a soft groan. The cold had done its job--her nipples were clearly visible through the soaked, clinging fabric, which now offered zero modesty.

"Whatever," she muttered, cheeks still pink as she turned back toward her lounger with Jeff in tow.

But just as they reached their seats, they both noticed their dad stepping outside through the patio door.

In a heartbeat, they dropped onto their loungers, trying to look casual, and trying to cover what they could without making it obvious.

Dad paused for a second on the patio, looking at them both. It was a look they hadn't really seen from him before and didn't know what to make of it. He didn't look mad, but he looked like he was sizing them up.

"Hey," he said finally, his voice even. "I've got to run by the tailor--pick up a suit before they close."

Jeff gave a vague nod. "Okay."

"I shouldn't be too long," their dad added.

He glanced between them again, then slid on his sunglasses.

Neither of them said a word.

As he turned to go back inside, he stopped halfway through the door and looked over his shoulder. "And Jeff, don't forget to put on sunscreen. With how much time you spend in your room on those games, I'm surprised you haven't already turned to ashes."

"You got it, dad," He called after him as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Stephanie let out a soft snort. Jeff glanced over at her, and they both broke into a laugh--more from tension than anything else.

"Well," she said, putting her sunglasses back on, "that wasn't terrifying at all."

"Nope. Totally normal. Just your average sunscreen PSA," Jeff muttered, shaking his head.

They heard the garage door hum to life, then the car backed out and rolled down the pebbled driveway.

Stephanie waited until the sound had faded before speaking again. "He's probably right, though."

Jeff looked over at her, confused. "About what?"

"You," she said, lifting her sunglasses slightly and giving him a look. "You're gonna burn if you don't put something on. And not my oil--" she added as he looked to the little bottle next to her, "actual sunscreen."

Jeff glanced down at his chest and arms, already a little pink. "Thought the sun was supposed to be good for me."

Stephanie smirked. "Not when it turns you into a lobster."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying I need help?"

"I'm saying," she replied, moving behind her lounger, "that I'm not letting you blame me when your shoulders peel like old paint."

Giving in, Jeff got up and went to the hall closet to grab some sunscreen, taking it outside to spray it on.

When he stepped back onto the patio, Stephanie had adjusted her lounger to lie completely flat. She stood beside it, facing only slightly toward the house, and bent at the waist as she smoothed tanning oil over the backs of her thighs.

He fumbled with the door as he tried to close it behind him, without taking his eyes off of her.

As she leaned forward, he couldn't help but notice her impressive tits straining against the fabric of her top as the flesh pressed around the edges of the material. The poor top barely contained them as the string going around the back started to dig into the meat that was sticking out the side in her bent over position.

Snapping out of it he shook the bottle of sunscreen and began to walk towards his own lounger. He sprayed a liberal coat across his arms, legs and chest, getting his neck and back as best he could. Through all of it, he never stopped watching her, while attempting to not suffocate on the fumes of the spray.

As she finished with her legs, she turned to lay her towel out across the lounger, presenting the now seated Jeff with an eye level view of the material that barely that couldn't contain her ass when she was standing straight, much less as she bent over. He watched as her butt tried to perform its own magic trick by making it disappearing between the prominent globes it was failing to cover. Then she dropped onto the towel, lying flat on her stomach, and reached behind her, hooking her fingers under the edges and self-consciously adjusting her bottoms to cover what they could once again.

Then the setup to what felt like every movie he stumbled on late at night came. She looked over, squinting against the sun even with her sunglasses on and asked, "Hey, would you mind getting my back?"

Jeff blinked. It took a moment for him to realize she meant her oil. "Yeah. I mean--yeah, sure."

It wasn't exactly a seductive request. Her tone was casual, like she might've asked anyone. But for Jeff, it was just another fantasy come true.

Jeff moved to perch on the edge of her lounger, half on and half off, just by her hip. The dark tanning bottle had been baking in the sun, and the oil was hot as he poured it into his hand.

Stephanie flinched slightly at the first touch--more from anticipation than anything else--but then let out a deep breath and settled again. Her cheek rested on her towel, arms relaxed at her sides, resulting in one hand settling between their hips.

Taking his time, Jeff gently slid his hands beneath the thin straps of her bikini top to make sure he didn't miss any skin. He spread the warm oil across her back with even strokes, focused on keeping everything covered so her tan wouldn't end up patchy. Her skin was warm from the sun, soft beneath his hands, and the oil made each pass smooth and effortless like he'd previously imagined

Stephanie stayed quiet, arms loosely at her sides. She wasn't tense, but she wasn't fully relaxed either. Feeling his hands slip over her skin brought back memories. She couldn't stop her brain from making the comparison of how his fingers felt now, compared to when they were slipping over other areas that first night.

Jeff worked his hands back up along her spine before letting his thumbs circle gently into her muscles. He started around her shoulder blades, using just enough pressure to feel some knots he didn't know what to do with, so opting to just not push too hard. Rubbing oil into her skin, quickly became a relaxing massage. Really it was nothing more than an excuse to keep touching her.

Each stroke gradually lengthened, slowing slightly as his hands grew more confident. His thumbs slid down the slope of her back, while his outer fingers traced along the dip of her sides where her ribs tapered in. The way she lay flattened her chest just a bit, and when his fingers drifted outward, they brushed the soft outer curve of her breasts where they settled against the lounger.

Stephanie shifted slightly, not pulling away, just adjusting her arm. Her skin glowed under the sun, and the oil, and she could feel the heat of both the afternoon and his hands spreading through her.

"Jeff, we can't. Mom could come out anytime," Stephanie quietly protested.

"Can't what?" Jeff asked with feigned innocence. "This area's still in the sun, so it needs oil. You don't want to be uneven here, do you?" But even as he spoke, he was already moving again.

As his hands returned to a safer, territory, Stephanie let out a quiet breath. Not a word, not another protest--just her subtle movements under his touch. She liked the way his palms moved over her back. It wasn't just the warmth, or the oil--it was the way his hands covered large swaths of her back, making her feel small beneath him. She'd never realized how big his hands actually were until now.

Jeff took his time working his way down her back, the oil making it easy to appreciate every line of her form. His palms slid along her spine, down to the substantial dip in the small of her back. He took in the tiny bowl that formed there between the curve from her back to her butt, and the semi tight muscles that ran the length of her spine. His fingertips traced the inward curve before gliding back up again--never leaving her skin except to skip over the straps of her top.

Stephanie could tell he was gradually working lower. She didn't need to look to know where his attention was. And she just kept telling herself: It's what I bought this bikini for--so he could look. Still, there was no ignoring the flutter in her stomach as he kept moving.

His hands continued drifting lower with each pass, brushing along the slope where her spine disappeared into the deep curve just below her bottoms. It's depth evident as the bikini was lifted away from her skin at the top of her butt, and her spine turned into her sacrum. This time, his fingertips lingered a little longer at the edge of the fabric. She stayed relaxed, but fully aware. The way he paused near the top of her bikini didn't feel accidental. She didn't mind. She liked knowing he wanted to go further. She wanted that too--she just didn't want to be the one to say it.

That's when he felt it--Stephanie's fingers, light and slow, were starting to toy with the hem of the leg hole of his swim trunks. Barely there, but definitely intentional.

His heart raced, but he didn't stop. If anything, it gave him more confidence.

When his hands reached the top of her hip nearest him, he spread his fingers and worked toward the other side allowing his left pinky to explore a little further under the taut fabric. At the same time her fingers started brushing his thigh instead of fidgeting with his shorts.

Stephanie felt the shift immediately, the way his hand moved across her lower back and down to her hip with more purpose now. She didn't tense, but she felt her breathing quicken. Her focus was drawn to every place he touched. She could feel his palm glide above the waistband, then trace inward again, more deliberate this time.

Her bikini felt smaller somehow--while it was intended to be a tease, it now felt like an unintended invitation and he had accepted. Happy accidents. She didn't move, but there was no question now what she was letting happen. The further south his pinky pressed, the more her body responded regardless of how she may have felt. Thankfully her mind was on the same page as her body.

When he finally caught the center of the valley between her cheeks, her glutes flexed without warning, and her thighs pulled in slightly. She hadn't been touched there before, and the sensation startled her. Her fingers tightened around the leg of his shorts--not to stop him, but to steady herself as she tried to make sense of how it felt. It was strange, a little uncomfortable, and far more intimate than anything they'd done in the daylight. But she didn't pull away. He wasn't even that far down the cleft of her butt, but it was enough to get her attention.

It wasn't resistance--it was reflex. Her body was reacting faster than her thoughts could keep up. And yet, she let it happen. She stayed put, unsure if she wanted him to linger or move on. When his pinky slid back out nearly as fast as it had entered and continued along to the curve of her other hip. She felt a quiet rush of relief--but also something else. Something like permission. Like maybe next time, she wouldn't need a moment to catch up.

Things were going a bit far though.

"Jeff..." she warned again, voice soft, but firmer now. "I'm serious. I'm already getting turned on, and I really can't if--"

He cut her off gently. "I know. But your bottoms..." he said, extracting his pinky from underneath. "They keep riding up and now it looks like more of your butt is showing."

She didn't respond at first. Then after a few seconds of contemplation, she finally asked "And what does that have to do with your finger going under my waistband?" She didn't sound upset, but more that she found his rationale humorous. The smile he could see at the corner of her lips, when he pulled his eyes off her ass to look at her face, confirmed it.

His hands had stopped as he talked to her. Suddenly nervous he started working them over her lower back again, trying to distract himself from his nerves and press forward. "I mean... if they're not staying put, there's a lot of skin showing. I should probably get some oil there. Just to be safe."

Stephanie let out a quiet grunt--half a laugh, half frustration.

Feeling his hands continue she glanced toward the sliding door, her sunglasses slipping slightly down her nose as she tried to peer inside through the tint and the world reflecting off the glass. It was useless. There was no seeing inside, but after a few seconds, she laid her head back down and softly said, "Well if you keep doing what you're doing, you're going to waste all of the oil on my back."

Jeff took that as a green light.

He grabbed the bottle and added more oil to his palm before shifting farther down, positioning himself more at her thigh, with no pretense or having to sneak what he was doing anymore. Stephanie felt the change instantly--no more tiptoeing, no hesitation. His hands landed on her backside, open and firm, and she felt the oil spread across her skin in slow, deliberate passes in attempt to cover any skin he could see. And perhaps a little of what he couldn't.

Her body responded before she could think about it. Her back arched slightly under his palms, not intentionally--just a reaction to the way he gripped and moved over her. Every pass of his hands made her more aware of just how exposed she already was.

She wasn't even aware she was gripping and scratching his leg. She was to lost in the moment and her own nerves. Like she told him a minute ago, she had already been getting turned on.

His new position had her fingers tightening lower on his thigh now, but it was still contact with his skin and that's all that mattered to her. Her movements were rougher than she intended. She let them stay there, lightly scratching along his skin as his hands moved lower, thumbs digging into the deep muscles.

Jeff was fascinated as he watched his fingers move through and over the pliant flesh. There was no pretense, or misinterpreting what he was doing this time. He was openly groping her, outside by the pool, and she was letting him. Not only letting him, but it seemed like she was enjoying it as much as he was.

When he began easing his fingers under the fabric, she felt her legs press a little closer together--not to stop him, just reacting to the newness of it. She could feel that her bikini bottoms had already ridden up and only her most intimate areas remained hidden. Yet, with each slow pass, he coaxed the fabric higher. Her upper glutes were now nearly completely exposed. As exposed as the waistline of the bikini would allow as the elastic stretched to its limits before pulling itself lower back down under the tension. And she felt the open air hit the newly bare skin between strokes.

Her hips shifted faintly under his touch again. Not a choice--just her body continuing to react to the attention, his apparent fascination, and the sensation of being uncovered and touched with that kind of focus. She was quiet, but she could hear the unevenness in both of their breathing.

Neither of them said a word as both became lost to their baser instincts.

His fingers moved confidently now, spreading oil across this expanse of skin, previously unexplored before today. Stephanie felt the slick glide of his palms over the tops of her cheeks. They were slow and steady. The skin there was sensitive--more than she'd expected. His touch wasn't rough, but it had weight, and the way he moved made her hyper-aware once more of just how bare she was beneath him.

Jeff, for his part, was trying to stay steady. There was no pretending that this was still about sunscreen. Her skin was soft, warm, and firm under his palms, and now that he had full access, he couldn't believe how good it felt just to touch her like this. Every little shift in her hips, every small flex of muscle beneath his hands--it all told him she wasn't just letting him; she was responding.

She made tiny movements under his hands. They were barely there and he felt a swelling of his ego in how her body responded to his touch. Her back arched slightly when his hands dipped lower, and he watched her hips rise in response, just an inch or so, but enough to make his pulse jump. She didn't say anything, didn't look back, but her body was speaking to him as clear as though the words came out of her mouth.

If his hands went lower, he could see the muscles in the small of her back flex, as though presenting herself to him as her butt arched up. If his hands went higher, the opposite, her ass would flex, as her pelvis tucked back in, bringing the small of her back closer to his fingers, and her thighs squeezed together. They weren't extreme, or exaggerated movements. Just subtle one's, but they were there nonetheless.

Stephanie felt it too--the way she kept reacting to him without thinking. Her back moved to meet his touch, her legs drawing together again, feeling the pulsing in that junction between them, when his fingers got close to the edge of her bikini. She didn't want to stop him. If anything, the closeness, the way he explored without rushing, made her want more. She wasn't sure where this was going to lead, and considering they weren't alone, it really should lead anywhere, but for that moment, she didn't care.

Her hips rolled gently against the lounger, responding to the way he touched her--never away from him, only closer. Her thighs rhythmically pinching together with each forward thrust of her pelvis. Each subtle grind of movement made her bikini bottoms shift more, digging inward with every motion they shared. She knew what was happening. She felt it. And she wasn't about to interrupt it.

Encouraged by her movement, Jeff let himself really focus on her. He'd never had this kind of time with her. So many of their past moments had been fast, half-dressed, trying not to get caught. He'd been obsessed with her breasts, with getting back inside her warm tunnel, chasing that feeling she gave him the first time. But now, with her stretched out in front of him, fully relaxed, he couldn't stop staring at her ass--how firm it was, how it flexed when she moved, how little her bikini did to hide any of it even before their joint movements caused it to retreat to the center, to catch in the prominent cleft.

He may have been inexperienced, but he'd read enough porn to know what those movements meant for how she was reacting. The idea that he was the cause made his throat go dry, but his mouth to water.

His fingers began to press in more on the outward strokes, not just sliding now, but spreading. She felt it instantly--the difference in intention. She felt it right away. He wasn't just touching anymore. He was trying to spread her, even though the narrow strip of fabric still covered her. The realization of what he was doing made her gasp softly into her towel, more from surprise than anything else. She didn't stop him, but she didn't quite know how to react either.

Jeff froze for half a second, unsure if he'd gone too far--but she hadn't tensed or moved away. If anything, her grip on his thigh tightened, and her thighs pressed closer together, like she was adjusting to the feeling, not rejecting it.

Stephanie's thoughts scrambled to catch up once more. No one had ever touched her anywhere back there before--not even close. The sensation of what he was doing felt so demanding, and left her feeling so exposed, that for a moment she didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it wasn't bad. Just unfamiliar and vulnerable. And then, almost just as quickly, her skin slipped under his fingers due to the slick oil, as her cheeks came back together. She couldn't help feeling a bit of relief and wondering if he was able to see anything from doing that, considering all of the material that was bunched up and covering her.

And in those brief moments, Jeff was pretty sure had seen just the very edges of the textured skin surround her most forbidden area. It was brief, and he couldn't be sure it's what he saw, but there was no denying the automatic flex of his cock, forcing out a substantial amount of precum.

When his fingers slipped on her skin, Stephanie let out a quiet breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Jeff caught it and eased his hands just slightly, but he didn't stop. He didn't want to. She hadn't told him no. Her body hadn't told him no. In fact, every subtle signal she gave him--how she moved, how she breathed, and how her hand was scratching at this thigh--was telling him to keep going.

It reminded her of their first night together. Back then, everything had felt so new, so intense. This was riskier and could come to an abrupt stop at any time, but the same energy was there in the way his fingers traced over her skin--only now, it was the slick coating of oil between them instead of the wetness of her own arousal keeping his hands from fully exposing her. Thankfully that was being caught by the swimsuit doing it's best to absorb what it could. But there was no denying the slickness she felt there.

She could feel the heat rising in her chest. Not panic. Just anticipation. And permission.

The fabric of her bikini bottoms now clung tightly between her cheeks, no longer covering anything beyond what her own body naturally hid. What had once been a barrier was now barely hanging on. Jeff's focus had narrowed to his thumbs, slowly spreading oil along the inner curves of her crease, slowly moving from the top, to as low as he dared to go. He wanted to go further, but didn't have the nerve, not wanting to push his luck.

Stephanie let out a soft breath--something caught between a sigh and a moan. She hadn't meant to make a sound, but his thumbs kept tracing the same lines, again and again, and her body couldn't help but react. It was too much sensation in too focused a place, and still he hadn't crossed any obvious line, making direct contact with where she really wanted his hands.

One hand gripped the lounger beneath her. The other scratched at his thigh, her fingers dragging against his skin with increasing urgency. She wasn't trying to stop him. She was holding on. Trying to manage what she was feeling.

Then came her voice--strained, like she was speaking through her teeth. "I swear, you're such a little shit." There was no humor in it. No teasing. Just frustration.

"Sorry..." was all he could manage, but it didn't stop him either.

And then--without warning--her hips lifted. Not just a subtle adjustment, but a full, deliberate shift upward and her far hand disappeared beneath her, and Jeff's breath caught in his throat.

He didn't move, didn't even blink. His hands were still, but his eyes locked onto the motion beneath him. His hands were no longer moving, yet the fabric of her bikini was still being pushed and pulled, back and forth. He could see it shifting with each subtle motion, one second the gusset of her bikini was loose and bunched and the next it was pulled tightly over her mound, as she worked herself against the soaked material. What had started as quiet breaths now came in open, audible moans.

Stephanie wasn't sure when she'd crossed that line--when her hand moved on instinct rather than thought--but once it was there, she couldn't stop. Everything felt too good. She was far too sensitive to ignore anymore. She pressed her palm into herself through the bikini, fingers curling against the wet fabric. Her body rocked in tiny, uncoordinated movements, trying to chase the pressure where she wanted it most.

Jeff didn't think--his hands moved without instruction. They slid down to the back of her upper thighs, and his fingers firmly pushing against the dense muscle. As her hips rolled, he dipped his hands inward, brushing along the strong line of her inner thighs, feeling the tension in them.

Then he saw them--Stephanie's fingers, actively working herself under her bottoms. The sight of her fingertips pressing out from under the fabric made his chest tighten. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, what she was doing--right there in front of him, and in their backyard.

Jeff pulled his hands back, wiping them on the edge of her towel in a quick attempt to rid them of some of the oil. His hands were too slick, and he wanted a better grip--needed it, really--if he was going to spread her thighs and finally see what he'd only caught hints of a second ago. That narrow space, that perfect little window where her thighs met, just barely hidden beneath the stretched fabric of her bikini.

Stephanie's legs, toned from years of gymnastics, were strong, full, and pressed tightly together in a way that hid as opposed to revealed. But he knew the shape of her, and he knew what was just out of view. And with her still rolling gently against the lounger, not stopping him, not saying a word, he was sure she wasn't going to protest.

He could already see in his mind eye his eyes easing that bit apart. Exposing the "thigh gap" that was currently hiding her illicit act. Already imagining the view waiting for him there.

And then--right on cue, as if Murphy's Law had been lying in wait--the patio door slid open with a sharp thunk.

Jeff froze, towel still in hand, heart slamming into his ribs. Stephanie's hand stopped mid-motion, her body going completely still beneath him. The spell shattered in an instant, replaced with silence and the sudden, awareness of how exposed they both were.

"The universe conspiring against us once again and interrupting another moment," he thought.

In reality they couldn't have been luckier than they had right then. Five seconds earlier, or five seconds later, and his hands would've been buried between her thighs. The fact that he was seated hiding his erection. And as for Stephanie's current state of exposure? Well mom wore smaller bikinis than this on a regular basis to minimize her tan lines. She had been trying to convince Stephanie for years. On several occasions when Stephanie had been in her leotard, and it didn't stay put, mom had tried to point out to that the line was unbecoming and only drew more attention.

The sound still made both of them jolt slightly, though Jeff managed to keep his reaction mostly internal. His back stiffened, and he looked up at her, willing every fiber of his being to act as though nothing were wrong. Stephanie, meanwhile, didn't move at all. Face still turned to the side, unable to look at her mother, while her hand was still buried under her bikini and between her thighs. Her fingers were firmly pressing against her mound as her body tensed, paralyzed with embarrassment and fear in how carried away she got. In the open. With her mom home... Hell, even with Jeff watching her pleasure herself. Even after he stopped touching her. Clearly they didn't learn the first time when dad came out.

"Hey, sweetie?" their mom called to neither of them in particular, stepping outside with a small list in her hand. "I'm gonna run up to the store real quick. Just need to grab a few things for dinner."

Jeff gave a small nod smiling at her as best he could to look casual. "Okay."

"Do either of you need anything?"

Stephanie mumbled something barely audible. Probably "no," but it was hard to tell with her face now buried in the towel.

"She said 'No,'" Jeff called out.

Mom just smiled back at him. And with a glance between them, before settling squarely on him, Jeff's heart stopped beating as she opened her mouth to speak with her brow furrowed. He braced for the inevitable question of "What the hell was going on out here?"

"Make sure you don't miss any spots with that oil, Jeff," she finally said followed by a laugh. "She'll be pissed with you if she ends up with streaks."

Fuck me! Is what he heard in his head. Thankfully what came out of his mouth was a simple "I'll do my best." Finally, he could feel his heart back where it belonged and beating again, albeit fast enough that he could've just finished a full-on sprint.

"Alright," mom said, grabbing the door handle to slide it shut. "Back in a bit."

A second later Stephanie let out a squeal, kicking her pointed feet into the chair, both hands now gripping the top rail.

Jeff let out a breath, slow and steady, trying to calm down his poor racing heart. He looked down at Stephanie, whose eyes were now just barely visible behind her sunglasses and looking up at him.

"I hate how she always needs to make a joke," Stephanie muttered.

Jeff leaned forward a bit. "She didn't see anything."

"She saw you sitting on me, rubbing oil on my ass!" Stephanie replied exacerbated.

"I wasn't sitting on you. And I wasn't touching you. I was just finishing wiping my hands. I'm sure I had stopped touching you before she ever would've been able to see outside."

"Well, you're practically sitting on me and considering the state of my bikini and the oil on my ass, I'm sure she can assume where your hands were before wiping them off.," she said, her voice somewhere between amusement and mortification.

Once again, they heard the garage door open and the car pull out of the pebbled driveway.

Jeff gave a nervous chuckle. "Nah, she was too busy trying to make a joke to notice anything else." He hoped he was right, but mainly he was just trying to calm Stephanie down.

She let her head drop back to the towel. "What the fuck were we even thinking going that far?"

Jeff's reply was everything you'd expect from an 18-year-old that's been teased for weeks. "I don't know what you were thinking, but I could stop thinking how hot you are." No regard for the near disaster they just had, only pure lust driven by hormones.

Stephanie burst out with a sharp, surprised laugh.

She lifted her head just enough to look at him over her sunglasses. Her cheeks were still pink, whether from the sun or everything else, it was hard to tell.

"You're such an idiot," she said quietly, but there was no bite in it.

Then, after a beat, she added, "But... it is kinda crazy how good it felt."

"Which part?" Jeff asked.

"Your hands... my hands... all of it..." She let her head fall back down, hiding her face again with another squeal. "I probably shouldn't admit that."

Smiling at not being the most embarrassed person when talking to a girl was a nice change for him. In that moment she wasn't sexy, or hot, but adorable and he loved her even more for her bashful honesty.

He sat there taking her in, and appreciating everything about her. "You know what I'm thinking now?"

"Hm?" Was all she could manage.

"That we're alone. Like house actually empty..." his voice trailed off wondering how she'd respond.

Her head snapped up; eyes wide behind her sunglasses as she looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked unbelievably. "After what just happened?"

Jeff opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then opened it again. "I mean... yeah?" he offered weakly, with a shrug and his hands raised slightly like he wasn't sure whether to defend himself or surrender.

Stephanie stared at him for another second before dropping her face with a groan, now hidden behind her arms that raised above her head. "You're unbelievable."

He could hear the muffled laugh in her voice even as she shook her head.

"I was this close to having a heart attack," she said, lifting one hand to pinch her fingers together. "And you're already thinking about round two?"

Jeff leaned back slightly, grinning now. "You're the one that just said it felt good."

"That doesn't mean I want to die over it," she shot back, then let out a helpless laugh, cheeks flushing deeper.

"But you're not saying no," Jeff said.

Stephanie didn't look at him.

He watched her.

After what seemed like hours, but was surely seconds he finally heard her voice.

"Do we go inside?" It was barely more than a whisper.

"I guess?" His response was more of a question than an answer.

"We'll hear one of them come home from your room, right?" She followed up. Her face still hidden away from him, half in the towel on her chair and blocked by her arm.

"I'd think so..." Again, he didn't sound convincing to her.

"You know we're going to get caught at this rate, right?" Her voice seemed tense and uncertain.

"Well, we will if we keep wasting time and don't make up our minds about where we're goin." He pushed hoping she'd decide for them. Her not looking at him was shaking his confidence.

"Ah fuck it! Right here. At least we should be able to hear the car pulling up the driveway."

"Huh?" Jeff's mind broke. He clearly didn't hear her right, because he thought she suggested they do it here as in somewhere outside. So obviously he heard her wrong. They had just been talking about inside...

"What the hell are we thinking?" She asked more to herself than him. And with that, she pulled off her sunglasses, then reached back and pulled her bikini to the side.

Jeff was still trying to process what he was seeing when he heard her voice again.

"Quick, just pull it out the bottom of your shorts or something in case they come home," she breathed.

Realizing exactly what was being offered, Jeff finally sprang into motion. He scrambled up from the chair, hiking one leg of his shorts as high as he could while awkwardly pulling his erection out through the leg hole.

Feeling him move behind her, Stephanie buried her face in the towel once more. The fact that her face seemed to have spent half the afternoon buried in it, making her chuckle to herself. She arched her back--deliberately this time--leaving no doubt about what she wanted. For the first time in her life, she wished she was wearing a thong so there'd be less fabric bunched around where she wanted to feel him most.

Jeff had always known she was flexible. He'd seen her arch her back in the gym, in photos, in every casual moment that showed off her athleticism--but never like this, and never with this kind of intent.

He swung a leg over to straddle the lounger behind her, quickly moving into position at her entrance. He'd been waiting for this since about ten seconds after the last time--and in hormone-fueled, 18-year-old time, that worked out to about seventy-five years. Now that it was happening again, he had no intentions of wasting another moment.

The tight fabric of Jeff's shorts pressed uncomfortably against his erection, but he barely noticed. What he did notice was that he couldn't figure out how to make this work. He tried placing a knee next to her hip, but it slipped between the vinyl slats of the lounger, throwing off his balance. Then he stood, planting a foot on either side of her lounger, only to realize he needed to brace himself with his hands because he had to lean forward, and his legs definitely weren't going to hold him up that long without help.

That caused a new problem: where could he put his hands? The straps of the lounger weren't stable, and the metal frame dug painfully into his palms. He shifted, repositioned, and tried again--unsuccessfully.

Stephanie, still patiently arched on the towel, finally turned her head and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "What's the holdup back there?"

"I'm trying to find a spot that works," he said, sheepishly. "I don't know where to put my hands to hold myself up."

She let out a breath that was half laugh, half exasperation. "Oh my gosh. Just use my back or something."

Jeff blinked. "Are you sure? I don't want to crush you."

"Yeah, I'm sure, I'll be fine!" she exclaimed, turning her face back into the towel and settling in again. The posture wasn't new, being reminiscent of some of her floor routine positions--but the tension in her body from holding it and the purpose of the position absolutely was. After everything that had built up between them over the weeks--after today, after how close she'd been before the interruption, she was probably more worked up than he was.

And she didn't want to waste another second waiting.

Taking her at her word, Jeff placed one hand on her lower back, just above the curve where her body rose to meet him. With his other hand, he gripped his aching length and guided it toward her. There was no hesitation--no need to search. The way she had her hips raised, chest still flat to the lounger, made everything clear and easy.

And then she felt him.

He slid in with no resistance--just the warm, slick welcoming him into her, as she was the only person to ever take him.

And likewise, for her. The stretch was immediate, but familiar, the warm sheath only he'd had the pleasure of entering.

They both moaned in unison.

After weeks of the teases from stollen moments, hurried and forbidden touches, to only get minimal relief provided by masturbation that no longer seemed satisfactory... It was heaven. No matter how many times they'd try to start something, they never had time to finish and neither wanted another repeat of that. Especially now that he was in her once again.

Stephanie gripped the top rail of the lounger, pushing back into him once he was fully seated inside her. The motion was instinctual--she needed him deeper. Jeff repositioned, settling his hands properly now. One braced against her back, the other slid to her ass, holding it more than supporting himself as he began to move.

His weight pressed into her slowly as he found his rhythm, her body steady beneath him, ready to take all of it.

As Jeff settled in, Stephanie could feel herself stretching again to accommodate him. It wasn't easy--she'd already forgotten that he filled her more than she expected in the beginning--but she didn't tense against it. After years of gymnastics, and their last encounter, she trusted her body to adjust. A little discomfort was nothing new, and she knew it would fade soon enough.

For Jeff, it felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. Every thrust was met with tight, gripping muscles, like her body was holding onto. He could also feel her ass flex beneath his hand, tensing and bracing as she responded to each movement. It was more than physical--it was reactive. Like her whole body was in sync with him.

But the rhythm came with its own complications. Her bikini bottoms, previously pulled aside, started shifting again. The edge of the fabric scraped his shaft with every push forward, chafing him enough to break his focus.

Without pausing too long, he switched hands--his right bracing on her back while his left reached down to wedge the suit out of the way. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, gripping the soft flesh beneath as he held it aside. The heat of her skin, the fullness under his palm--he still couldn't believe it. He was actually fucking Stephanie like this. Not in some dark room or late at night under covers. This was outside, in broad daylight, the sun lighting every inch of her glistening skin. Every detail was right in front of him. There was no hiding any anything. He was even enraptured by seeing the hint of her back muscles subtly flexing as they braced against the impact of this hips.

Stephanie felt him adjust and then begin to pick up the pace. Good. The first time had been slow and careful. Amazing like a dream. But this time was different, because they were on a ticking clock. Either of their parents could come back at any moment, and they both knew it. That urgency, that rush--it added something. She was surprised to find that she was excited by this feeling of need.

She didn't want slow. Not this time. She wanted him to take her. To experience her first "quicky" that others had talked about.

Burying her face once more, a moan escaped her lips and it was immediately followed by hearing Jeff tell her, "I love the noises you make."

Her cheeks burned instantly. She pressed her face deeper into the towel, trying to hide. The fact that he noticed--that he liked it--was beyond embarrassing. And yet, it also made her melt. The way he talked about her, looked at her, touched her... it made her feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

Jeff couldn't take his eyes off where their bodies met. Watching himself slide in and out of her, seeing the way her body gripped him with every withdrawal, dragging her layers back with him--it was unreal. No porn, no book, nothing had prepared him for seeing her like this. It was like her body didn't want to let go of him. As though it was trying to hold him there, keep him buried inside her.

The heat of the day and the effort they were both exerting quickly caused the sweat to become a problem for him. The skin on skin of his hand on her ass, caused him to start to slip. He paused for a moment to grab edge of her towel and wipe his hand, then brought it up to wipe her ass so he could renew his grip.

Stephanie didn't pause with him. She kept moving, her hips rocking against him with short, insistent motions. Even as he wiped her, she didn't want to lose momentum--not after everything it had taken to get here again.

Feeling him shift behind her, she stilled only slightly as his hand slipped back beneath her bikini bottoms. He found the same spot again, fingers digging into the firm orb as he reestablished his grip.

She liked it more than she expected.

There was something strangely comforting about the way he held her. It was firm, steady--grounding her even as her body moved with his. It made her feel taken care of, even in the middle of something so intense.

Stephanie's moans deepened as she absorbed the sensations, processing what she was feeling and what she liked. There was something different about this--not just the rhythm or the angle, but the way her body was being handled. It felt raw. Exposed. And then that feeling sharpened.

Her moan shifted into a groan as she felt the air unexpectedly wash over her now exposed rosebud. An untouched place. One he had come close to a bit ago, but now there was no questioning if he could see. Her breath caught.

Jeff, shifting his weight slightly and now using the grip on her ass for balance, had unintentionally spread her open just a little more. And there, between the steady slap of her cheeks against him, just above where his attention had been centered, something new came into view. Her tiny asshole winking at with each of his continued to thrusts.

He froze. Not literally, but figuratively. His body still moved on instinct, but his eyes locked onto that hidden treasure and his brain refused to move on.

Yes, he'd seen porn. Yes, he knew what anal was. And yes, he'd even let himself fantasize about it a few times--with her. But since that first night all he could focus on--all he could think of--was her warmth, the tightness of her pussy, and the way it felt to be inside her. Everything else had been background noise to that overwhelming fixation. Hers was the only one he'd experienced, and he couldn't wait to get back there again. It was the only one he'd obsessed over, or even really desired.

He remembered seeing it when she hugged her legs to her chest and exposed herself, but he was so over stimulated, and mesmerized by her beauty as a whole, there's no way he could remember every detail. He had lacked the capacity in that moment to absorb everything he was seeing. But now, there it was--fully exposed in the sunlight, not hidden in shadows. Not some woman online. This was real. Hers.

Stephanie felt him slow. Not stop, but hesitate, and for a second her embarrassment spiked. She was sure of what he saw, or even sure of what he was looking at. She wanted to bury her face deeper into the towel, wanting to disappear entirely--but then she heard him.

"Beautiful," Jeff whispered.

The word hit harder than anything else he could've said. He hadn't been prompted. He wasn't teasing. He meant it.

And somehow, even as she burned with self-consciousness, she felt herself smiling.

If that part of her--what she'd always thought of as the dirtiest, the most off-limits--could draw that kind of awe from him, then how could she not feel wanted? Desired? She believed him, just like she had every word he ever said about how much he liked being with her.

Elated didn't even begin to cover it.

She needed to cum. There was no way she could tolerate being interrupted one more damn time.

The rocking from her bouncing back and forth having shifted her top and exposing her nipples to the open air, one hand reaching under the lounger to play with her nipples though the space between the vinyl bands, and the other between her legs again. Stephanie slid her fingers from the top of her mound all the way back, letting them glide along the length of her slit, until they parted around Jeff's shaft. The sudden contact jolted him, snapping him back into motion. The sensation of her fingers there--touching both of them at once--was overwhelming in the best way.

It felt incredible to keep her hand there while he thrust in and out of her. She could feel everything--his length pulling back until only the tip remained, the way the crown of his head pushed out against her lips, then the full, satisfying press as he sank back in until he was nudging against her cervix. The stretch, the fullness, the rhythm--it was all driving her straight to the edge.

Jeff barely had time to register what was happening before he looked down and saw her fingers wrapped around either side of his cock, pressing into her own lips as he slid through them. With the gymnastics season being over, she had taken the time to treat herself, and the visual of her perfectly manicured nails entrenched in her folds, lightly scratching the side of his shaft was maddening. The sight alone nearly broke him. He'd been so focused on her body, her reactions, the feeling of being inside her, that he hadn't even seen her hand move beneath her.

She pulled her hand forward again, this time desperately circling her clitoris. Her hips twitched as the pressure hit just right.

Instinct took over, his pace quickened again, and his thrusts became deeper and more urgent.

It was exactly what Stephanie needed. The friction, the pressure, the warmth of him moving deep inside her. Combined with the focus on her clit--each circle of her fingers sending another shockwave through her--it was all too much. Her body was on the brink, with the feeling of anything at any moment could be what pushed her over the edge.

And then she heard his voice behind her, breathless and real:

"Oh my God, Steph. I'm the luckiest guy in the world. You're amazing... and fucking hot."

The words landed right in her chest--unexpected and perfect. Not just a horny teenager, but the adoration of someone that loved her. And she was ready to fall apart because of it.

And that did it.

Stephanie's body stiffened, every muscle tightening at once as the orgasm hit her hard. There was no buildup left--just a sudden rush that overtook her, rippling through her in wave after wave. She came around him again, as hard as that first unexpected night was weeks ago, her breath now grunts as she pressed herself back into him with everything she had.

Jeff felt it instantly.

Her walls clamped down on him, gripping him with a force that made everything before feel like nothing more than teasing. The way her body pulsed around him wasn't gentle or subtle--it was like her pussy needed him as though he were life itself. It was overwhelming, and he couldn't imagine anything closer to heaven than the feeling of her wrapped around him in that instant in time.

He had loved the first time, of course. That night had been sweet, and unexpected, and more than he had any right to hope for. But this... this was raw and unfiltered. Daylight exposed every inch of her, every movement, and every reaction. There was no hiding from it. And watching her fall apart like this--because of him...

He knew Stephanie. He knew that doing this, like this, out here, was a moment of vulnerability that she allowed only because of her trust in him. It made his own heart swell that she would give herself to him in this manner.

As her body trembled beneath him, he felt the rush building in his own groin.

"Fuck, Stephanie, I'm gonna cum," he grunted, barely able to keep his voice steady. "Where should I do it?"

Even now, he hesitated. He didn't want to cross a line or do something she'd regret. Could he finish inside her without her saying it was okay? Would pulling out and coming on her back be degrading? He didn't know the rules--didn't want to guess wrong.

All he knew was that he was seconds away, and whatever happened next had to be her choice.

After a few more erratic thrusts and no answer from her, Jeff finally made the decision himself.

Stephanie still seemed lost in her own head, her body beginning to go lax beneath him, but her hips still tilted up in that perfect angle. He had to hold her hips up himself at this point with one arm while the other quickly went to work, stroking his cock the moment he wrenched it free from her grip.

The separation made her moan. It sounded almost disappointed, and had Jeff not been lost in his own world, he likely would've felt a degree of guilt from depriving her in the state she was in. But all of that was swallowed up by the rush pulsing through him.

He focused, trying to aim as best he could through the haze of urgency. His first shot came fast--a long streak landing across her right cheek. Adjusting with a firmer grip, he aimed again, but this time he overcorrected and hit the other, streaking her bikini bottoms in the process. The sight of his release against the bright red fabric made him smile as he had suddenly understood the idea of marking his territory.

But it was the next few pulses that would be burned into his memory forever.

His third and fourth shots landed squarely between her cheeks, streaking across her puckered entrance of her asshole and dripping down over her swollen sex. The sight of it--of her--like that, marked and still twitching from her orgasm, was enough to make his knees weak.

He'd never forget this moment. Not a chance.

Stephanie was acutely aware of the first warm ribbon landing across her ass, followed quickly by another. And then the third--directly on her backdoor. Her instinct was to flinch, to pull away, but she forced herself to stay still. The word "beautiful" echoed in her mind again--Jeff's voice, soft and awestruck, when she'd felt most exposed.

If this was what he wanted--if finishing all over her backside, between her cheeks, was part of what he wanted--she'd let him have it.

The next shot adding to the last, and she could feel it sliding down, some of it making its way between her still-parted lips. It slipped along her left side, warm and slow, eventually reaching her fingers. Without much thought, she let the slickness assist her fingers as they began to slow the stimulation of her mound, easing herself through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Her thighs and lower back had nothing left to give. With a long exhale, she finally let her hips drop to the lounger, the tension had her muscles on fire.

The idea of a pillow, or multiple pillows to have support her would have been lovely. Next time they did this position, she was definitely getting support.

Jeff followed her, leaning into her as his softening shaft nestled between the deep groove. He continued to move gently, humping in short, lazy strokes--there were no more ropes, just the last warm dregs still oozing out, being spread into her crack with each pass. She felt the wet glide, the heat of him pressed against her, and the subtle drag of his coarse pubic hair along that now-sensitive spot he'd unintentionally exposed.

It was a strange sensation--one she'd never really thought about before.

She didn't know what to make of it yet. She'd never considered her butt to be anything more than off-limits, let alone something tied to pleasure. But now... now she wasn't so sure. There was something undeniably sensitive about the way his body moved against her there. And maybe, just maybe, she didn't mind it?

Jury was still out on that. Her mind was still swimming and unable to process anything else new.

Finally, Jeff laid down on top of her, his chest still heaving as she supported his weight. She could feel the rise and fall of his breathing against her back. When he pressed a few soft kisses to her shoulders, she turned her head to the side with a smile, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy who made her feel so wanted.

"I just realized--you never even kissed me before you took me," she said, her voice teasing.

"Hey, you're the one who pulled your bikini to the side and told me to get to it," he shot back with a laugh.

Stephanie flushed, knowing he was right. With a groan, she buried her face back into the towel. Her muffled reply came seconds later: "Can't be right. Doesn't sound like me at all."

Then she felt Jeff shift his weight, his right hand assertively pushing her face to the left. She let him. As he guided her head back around, he leaned in and kissed her. She didn't realize how much she wanted it. If she had to describe it, the only thing coming to mind was "Mmmm--lovely." There were no words for the love and compassion she'd felt from him ever since that night.

Stephanie melted into it. The warmth washing over her becoming increasingly more familiar. Unlike the rest of the afternoon, there was no rush, no frantic urgency, no fear of being caught. They finally had there moment and were now just enjoying being together with no agenda. The way he felt about her began long before a few weeks ago, and now that she was pinned beneath him, he didn't want to lose any more time.

When he felt her shift, he pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry. Too much?" he asked, worried he'd been too forceful about the kiss.

Stephanie gave a small shake of her head, smiling against the towel. "The kiss wasn't," she said. "But you lying on me in this chair is getting to be."

"Oh--right." He let out a soft laugh and tried to push himself up, fumbling for any solid support that wasn't already slick with sweat or flimsy like the straps of the lounger.

As Jeff lifted himself off her, Stephanie suddenly became aware of how sweaty she was. The light breeze brushed across her now-exposed back and butt, cooling her skin just enough to make her realize how overheated she'd gotten. She pushed herself up slightly, glancing over just in time to see him tucking himself back into his shorts, while she reached down to adjust her bikini back into place. And yet, even now, she could see the outline in his shorts--still tented, still straining.

It hit her then--how rushed the whole thing had been. She hadn't even had a glimpse of him this time, yet he saw everything. Except her breasts-- The realization that her top may have gotten bunched up under his onslaught, but it never actually came off. In fact, nothing did. Neither of them ever removed a stitch of clothing. Perceived barriers just pulled askew for the sole purpose of access.

The thought made her smile. She was genuinely impressed with herself for being this uninhibited, and bold. It started that morning when she decided to go buy that bikini. This epiphany highlighting that she did have it in her. She just had to be willing to go through with it.

Settling back onto her towel, Stephanie watched as Jeff returned to his lounger across from her.

"So, does that thing ever go down?" she asked, nodding toward his lap noting it still presented a prominent bulge through his shorts.

"Not so much," he laughed, still a little breathless and clearly distracted by the sheen on her skin--a mix of tanning oil, sweat, and everything they'd just shared.

Stephanie laughed with him. "Certainly doesn't seem like it. Practically every time I touch it, it's hard."

"Your fault, you know," he said, suddenly sheepish from feeling on the spot.

She tried to come up with a clever response but came up empty. Instead, she leaned forward and gave him another kiss--short, soft, content.

"I can't think of a better compliment," she smiled, then sank back into her towel with a quiet, but happy.

She glanced toward the pool, seriously considering a quick dip to wash off the sweat--and the lingering signs of what they'd just done. But before she could make up her mind, the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the quiet.

For once, their luck had held.

They'd actually managed real alone time--not just stolen touches or near misses, but enough to finish what they started... and even stay in the moment after. Him embracing her from above, and she'd melted into it, lost in his embrace and the kiss they shared while he lay atop her. It was a rare moment that felt completely theirs. Before all of this, neither of them had really noticed how little time they spent truly alone together. And it had been sufficient. But now? Now, it never felt like enough.

"We should clean up. You're backs probably gonna be fried after this," Stephanie said getting up to grab her stuff.

"Totally worth it." Jeff's voice caried no sarcasm or innuendo, just a quiet sincerity of fact as he followed suit with her, dragging his chair back to its normal spot.

Both looked around one last time to make sure they didn't miss anything before heading into the house. They ran into their dad as he entered from the garage carrying the suit he went to pick up from the tailor.

In an effort to sound nonchalant, Jeff paused, causing Stephanie to stop behind him.

"Did he get your suit squared away then?" he asked.

Looking up at the two of them their dad's eyes darted back and forth, looking them over before he replied dryly, "I wouldn't have brought it home if he didn't, would I?"

"Right. Dumb question, sorry," Jeff muttered.

And with that their dad, gestured towards the stairs as though he was saying "Well get moving, let's go!" And Jeff started moving again, with Stephanie right behind him, and then dad bringing up the rear. He picked up the pace suddenly wanting to get to his room and put some distance between him and his dad. He heard Stephanie's steps do the same as they both rushed towards their respective rooms.

Later that evening Stephanie was heading down towards the kitchen to get a drink while studying, when she heard her parents talking, and dad sounding irritated with mom. Figuring she'd better make sure they weren't fighting first and see if it was safe to enter the kitchen, she paused to take a moment and listen.

"I'm telling you Sara, I think something's going on with them!" Stephanie's stomach dropped hearing his words.

"You're being crazy Frank, they're just close is all," mom replied, defending them.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying, they're close Sara! Too close, I'm telling you." He sounded irritated that she wasn't listening to him. "I shit you not, when they came in from outside before I left, he was pitching a tent and she was just smiling. Then when I got home from the tailor, he had a big ass wet spot on the front of his shorts where his fucking dick would be, and walking up the stairs, the back of her bikini looked like it was spotted and streaked with goddamned dried cum." His voice was rushed, one argument running into the next. It came out like a hushed yell as he tried to contain himself, but express the seriousness of what he was saying.

Mortification instantly swept through Stephanie. She knew they had been getting reckless and that they shouldn't have done it, but she just wanted to be with him again. She'd let her wants get in the way of her better judgement.

What they fuck were we thinking?" she screamed internally.

She had to tell Jeff. He had to know dad was on to them.

"And I'm telling you, you're making something out of nothing," Sara shot back. "When I left, he was putting oil on her back. I was there. It was completely innocent. He probably just accidentally spilled some on his shorts and that's what you saw when you came home. Let's be real--Stephanie got all the grace between those two kids. He's just lucky he hasn't broken any bones getting out of bed."

"Fine, let's say you're right, it still doesn't explain what I saw all over her ass."

"She probably just sat on something. God knows they both just flop down on anything without looking," Sara reasoned.

Frank was clearly aghast at how far she was willing to go to justify it all away.

"You know what? Another thing! Since when the fuck did she start wearing shit like that? I've never seen that bikini before, have you? And then all of a sudden, he just wants to sit outside, NOT playing his video games while she sunbathes? In fact, even beyond today there's always something. They're with each other non-stop. And when I got up to go to the bathroom the other night, they were both under a blanket in April... They both had those looks like a kid that just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and tried to pretend he wasn't."

"I'm telling you Sara, I'm ready to cancel our vacation. I don't think we should be taking those two anywhere together," he finished.

That was it for Sara. She dropped the fork she'd been washing into the sink and gripped the edge of the counter until her fingertips and knuckles turned white.

Leaning into him, it was mom's turn. "I swear to God, if you even think about canceling this trip, you'd better hope you can get some refunds--because you're going to need that money for a fucking hotel here in town. I may not go to work every day like you, but I still bust my ass to keep this house clean, have dinner ready, and make sure the kids have everything they need. I need this vacation just as much as anyone else. I don't get to leave work at the end of the day," she said, making air quotes with her hands. "My day never ends. I'm at work every minute I'm in this house. So, if you think you're going to cancel our vacation just because one or both of our kids is a little clumsy, and you can't stop your imagination, you'd better think again."

And with that, both Stephanie and her dad knew the argument was over. She rounded the stairs and, as quietly as she could, made her way back up to her room.

Dad, meanwhile, stood watching mom go back to the dishes. Her chest was heaving after her tirade, and as much as he wanted to say something, he knew better. He wouldn't have to wait for a canceled vacation to be kicked out of his bed. Instead, he used his better judgement and simply said, "I'll be back in a bit." He knew in that in moments like this, it was better to clear out of the house so he didn't even risk looking at her wrong until they both cooled down.

Laying on her bed, Stephanie stared at the ceiling. It felt like her heart was pounding like a war drum. Their dad knew. Not just suspected--knew. Every reckless second of the afternoon played on repeat in her head. Each one now soaked in dread.

She needed to tell Jeff. Tonight.

But not like this. She needed to calm down and she didn't want to do it until after their parents had gone to bed. Jeff could be awkward enough. She didn't need to risk him running into them right after she told him. It'd be better if he at least had the night to let it soak in before he saw them in the morning.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to focus and think clearly. They just had to lay low. Be smart. Be careful. No more risks. No more trying to be sneaky.

Her phone buzzed next to her. A message from Jeff. Clearly every reckless second of the afternoon was on repeat in his head as well.

"Today was awesome!"

She stared at it, then typed four words.

"We need to talk."

But she didn't hit send.

Not yet.