Always Forward Ch. 03

The next morning I went running in the shitty hotel gym, trying to outrace all my insecurities. Absorbed in taking my frustrations out on the treadmill, wearing headphones, I was surprised to see Gabe suddenly appear next to me. He was dressed down in red gym shorts and an old, thin grey t-shirt. He ran easily, gracefully, but he resolutely failed to make eye contact with me. His gaze was laser focused straight ahead, at a random, blank point on the white wall in front of us. His pointed derision was driving me crazy.

Inanely, I ran and thought. I was powerfully reminded of the time that Gabe had explained urinal etiquette to me. We had been about to go off to college, stuffing our faces with various kinds of underpriced dumplings, crab rangoon, and scallion pancakes from the little hole-in-the-wall two streets over. When Gabe excused himself to go to the restroom, I had been brooding, missing the moment before it was over and wishing that we were on an actual date.

In the present, Gabe's sneakered feet pounded out a staccato rhythm on the adjacent treadmill. I focused on my memory, determined that I would not speak first. That night, when he'd returned to the table, Gabe had complained bitterly about some guy who had chosen the urinal right next to him, even though there were four other options readily available. Being a woman, I had never considered all the details, undertones, and cultural zeitgeist involved in public male urination before, and I suddenly had questions.

As teenage boys tend to do with bathroom humor, Gabe ran with the topic, talking exaggeratedly about the awkwardness of the Winnie the Pooh, and all the other unspoken rules associated with looking, talking, and whistling while taking a piss. I could still clearly remember the reflected neon light in his eyes as he went for the cheap jokes, trying hard to make me laugh. Hitting the buttons to start my cool down next to him, I wondered if Gabe recalled that conversation, if he was trying to make some sort of statement by choosing the machine right next to mine.

About twenty minutes later, out of breath, I obnoxiously threw my feet up on the sides of the moving belt. Gabe yawned exaggeratedly. He kept his pace, still pointedly refusing to acknowledge my presence. I didn't know what his deal was, but I figured he was up to his old tricks. Gabe had always liked to keep his conquests off balance, to assert dominance early. I hated that his schtick was working.

Back in my room, I looked at my sweaty, red face in the lighted bathroom mirror, giving myself yet another pep talk. When my internal argument failed to make any discernible impact on my mood, I decided to bolster myself in the hotel's picturesque hot tub next to the beautifully landscaped pool.

I threw on my black bikini, a tank top, and a pair of rubber flip flops, then I walked around to the back of the building. I expected to be alone. However, when I pushed opened the ornate iron gate, I was surprised to see that Gabe was already leaning against the concrete wall of the in-ground spa, his arms extended casually on the edge in the cool air. From behind, I saw an understated tattoo of a Janus bust, the god's inscrutable face looking both ways on his left shoulder blade.

I snuck up behind him, trying to be nonchalant as I dropped into the hot water without preamble. Situating myself amid the small, cresting pool, I leaned back, stretching my neck and sticking out my chest. I felt like a silly, preening bird, but I somehow couldn't help presenting myself to him.

I was gratified when Gabe's resolve broke, and he finally looked me up and down. He signed resignedly and said, "Hey, Fox. Good run?"

I grinned, pleased to have ostensibly won the round, and gestured toward his lean torso. "Tell me all about the new ink. How does it go over with your attending physicians, or the patients? You can't tell me that you can hide all of that under scrubs."

Gabe cracked a lopsided grin. He played dumb, but I knew him too well. He had always been perversely proud of his physique, his decoration.

Gabe's voice was full of natural swagger, practiced bravado, "Well, sweetheart, I'm the goddamn best. When you set the curve, you can pretty much look however you want. I would think that you would have similar difficulties with the authority figures, working with all those uptight, conservative lawyer types. I mean, you aren't exactly unadorned yourself."

I giggled as Gabe shamelessly showed me all of his tattoos, flexing his muscles in a charmingly exaggerated parody. I was happy to have a legitimate excuse to run my eyes over his toned body. I had been careful with my tattoo placement; everything could be easily hidden under a well-cut blazer and dress pants for court. Gabe obviously had suffered no such compunction. In scrubs, a lot of his art would be visible.

When he pointed to the dinosaur on his upper arm, I was reminded vividly of the summer that our younger brothers had turned eleven. My brother, Thom, had decided that he was going to be a tightrope walker after watching some movie. Our dad had begrudgingly strung up a rope for him between two trees in the backyard, about a foot off the ground. After a few weeks of dedicated practice, Thom had made the feat look so easy that Gabe's brother, Bash, had quit his usual dithering, succumbing to Gabe's teasing peer pressure and Thom's obnoxious dares.

There are some things about the sibling experience that are universal. When Bash fell (It was inevitable. The kid was clumsy.) and broke his arm, Gabe had sat on the ground next to his prone form. He had looked so guilty, yelling at me to get his car keys, gently supporting Bash's gangly body and repeating, "You're okay. You're okay. It's going to be fine."

That was the thing about Gabe. Underneath all of his game and bravado, he had a good heart. I knew that he cared about people, that I was important to him. He was the proverbial bad boy with the heart of gold, and knowing that never failed to make my panties wet.

I was yanked from my reverie when Gabe hooked his pinky finger playfully, deliberately under mine. He said, "Fair is fair. Why don't you show me all your ink, babe?"

I could feel the slight calluses on his warm palm as he teased me. His gesture felt intimate, casually close. I inhaled the intoxicating amalgamation of male sweat and chlorine rising off the water. In that moment, we seemed imminently possible.

I pursed my lips, picturing Gabe's serious face above mine, us rutting in the bright sunshine. Trying to slow my traitorous heartbeat, I showed him the pop punk quotes immortalized above my elbow ditches. "It'd be easy if you get mad/But three fingers point back to you/We could stay here/Stay out all night" and "Your eyes were covered in sunglasses/When they first met mine/I sat there and stared at you/You didn't seem to mind". His eyes raked over the Balinese dreamer statue on my forearm. I saw them light on the heart in hand Hopi graphic on my ribs, and then the Ballyneal gold course cat on my flat stomach, to the left of my bellybutton.

My legs were pimped out with a Don Moyer drawing of a monster in an ornate frame, a seated goblin holding a steaming cup of tea, and the outline of a Tibetan tiger rug. I propped my calves casually on his strong legs, leaning back against the wall seductively. Gabe leaned in, purportedly trying to see the details inked on my shin, but then he pivoted, pulling me deliberately toward him.

Gabe looked me in the eye for long seconds, letting me know he was serious. I saw pure heat in his gaze, then he kissed me with tongue, hard and slow. I suddenly felt as if I were the one walking the emotional tightrope, like anything could happen in those seconds.

When Gabe pulled back, he said, "I like when you look at me like that. Your eyes go all soft around the edges. What are you thinking, Fox?"

I straddled his lap and ruffled his damp hair with both hands, immeasurably smug. I said, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Gabe suddenly lunged forward. His expression was meltingly affectionate as he growled, "Okay, darlin'. You're going to pay for that!"

I had never had sex submerged in water before, but I had no doubt that was where this was headed. I could never have said no to him to him anyway, but I was finding Gabe's exhibitionist thing irresistible. The kiss broke and we were wrestling, splashing each other and flirting like horny teenagers just discovering sex. Eventually, Gabe managed to pin my arms. He was briefly superior, complacently thinking that he had won, but then I moved my hips deliberately back and forth, grinding my pussy over his hard cock.

Gabe groaned, his pupils big, dark with lust. He pressed his lips to mine again, and we weren't playing around anymore. I pulled my soaked lycra top over my head. Gabe gently sucked on one hard nipple, pinching the other between his pruned thumb and index finger. I could feel a trace of his stubble as he buried his face between my breasts and breathed hard against my ribs. Our audible panting echoed as we sunk down further in the water, our lust barely contained in the small tiled space.

I helped him work his blue board shorts down, over his hips. His cock, filling rapidly with warm blood, thwacked heavily against his flat stomach. His erection had reached epic proportions when it was exposed to the open air.

Giving in to impulse, I pushed Gabe's broad body back against the ledge. While I was getting him situated, I strategically angled his bare member in front of a strong jet, letting the stream massage his sensitive glans as I gently squeezed his shaft.

Gabe tilted his head back, sighing contentedly. My hand kept moving under the surface of the bubbling water. His eyelids looked heavy, and I finally understood exactly what people meant when they referred to bedroom eyes. I fondled his heavy balls gently with my left hand and he swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed, and I reveled in the slack-jawed look of pleasure adorning Gabe's flushed face. I took full advantage of his sex trance, leaning progressively closer each time his eyelids fluttered.

He growled, "Holy shit, babe. Please don't fucking stop. Right there. Oh, ah, yes. That feels amazing."

When I saw my moment, I easily impaled myself on his rigid pole, relishing the slight sting as my pussy stretched to accommodate his impressive girth. Sheathed inside me, Gabe moaned, deep in the back of his throat. I let that same torrent hit my clit as I moved slowly, up and down, up and down. There was this tingling, undeniable pressure that grew every time I tilted my hips forward. We were completely in sync. Gabe's cock rubbed insistently against a swollen, incredibly pleasurable spot inside me. The build-up was intense. I could feel the muscles in my cunt twitching, signaling an imminent, explosive climax. I put my lips right next to his ear and talked dirty.

"Let me see you cum, baby. Relax. Shoot your big, sticky load in my tight, wet little pussy. I promise, it will feel so, so good to let go. You know you need to cum. Shit, it feels so good right now. I'm right there. It's coming... almost... Oh, fuck... fuck."

Gabe gave as good as he got. He whispered back, "Fox, goddamn. You're so tight. Oh, fuck. Ah, keep going. I'm right fucking there. My God."

He seemed balanced on an impossible edge, controlling himself with every thrust. That is, until I stuck my tongue in his ear and flexed purposefully around him. Then, Gabe's nipples hardened against my chest. His cock grew infinitesimally inside me, and I could tell that his ass had clenched tight. With one incredibly satisfying, reflexive thrust, his body betrayed him, and I felt his cock twitch. He couldn't hold the cum back anymore. His climax was completely uncontrollable, barreling down on him. At the desperate moment of his release, Gabe exhaled this intimate grunt into my neck. It sounded almost like a sob of relief. Each flex of his shaft was punctuated with a hot, wet spurt of thick jizz right against my cervix.

Knowing that Gabe was involuntarily blowing his load triggered my orgasm, and I came on his dick, hard. My channel pulsed with intense spasms. The rest of my body felt stiff. I think I squirted. I was lucky we were already submerged, because I could feel my cum leaking all over him. My cheeks flamed, but I felt incredible.

Still wilting inside me, Gabe expertly stimulated my swollen, purple nub between two fingers, using a much smaller, slightly modified version of the way that he would jack himself off. I'd never been touched quite that way before, and I had three more orgasms in rapid succession, moaning filthily in his ear, jets of my cum lubricating his palm. Gabe didn't stop until I was begging for a break, an arrogant, sexy grin stretched across his face.