Hard Pass (Trophy Boyfriends 1)

She’s facing the water, so I can’t see her boobs, but her hands are obviously working the front snap of her jean shorts, those same hands pushing them down around her waist. Hips, legs, until they’re pooled on the ground.

Stepping out of them, she’s in only a thong and a bra. Hands reach around, deftly working the clasp quicker than I ever could. Tosses it to the side. Tugs at her lavender panties, bending slightly at the waist, and I…

Frantically begin stripping like a bad scene in a movie where the kid cannot get naked fast enough, desperate to catch up.

Miranda takes one, two, ten steps and leaps into the pool, the giant splash behind her flying through the air and wetting my feet.

I’m a few seconds behind, managing to make it in the water before she surfaces—I don’t need to be caught with my pants down around my ankles and my dick in my hand, relieved when I’m sinking into the lukewarm water beside her.

When my head pops up, I get splashed in the face, wiping a hand up and over my forehead, flipping my hair back.

Miranda splashes me again, flirtatiously, the sun catching the beads of glistening water on her shoulders and hair.

“You’re so dead,” I threaten, walking toward her, making my way through the chest deep shallow end.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she taunts just before disappearing below the surface. I watch as she strokes to the other side, hits the wall, and swims back toward me with a single breath. Pops up in front of me, dark nipples skimming the top. “The water feels so good.”

She’s close and moves closer, arms wrapping around my neck, legs wrapping around my waist—I’m surprised by her unabashed affection, but not put off by it and I weave my arms around her bottom, cupping her ass. Hoist her up.

Kiss her mouth.

“Aren’t you worried about shrinkage?”

I pull back and look at her. “Shrinkage?” I drop her, letting her sink under, and she rises, sputtering.

“You brat!” Splash. “You dropped me!”

“My dick does not shrink in cold water!” The temperature of the pool is a blissful eighty-five degrees: not too warm, not too cool, definitely not cold enough to shrink my cock.

“Are you sure?” One of her eyebrows is raised arrogantly.

“See for yourself,” I tease, not thinking she’s actually going to dunk beneath the water and tread in front of my dick, eyes wide open, bubbles hitting the surface and popping.

I watch, spellbound as her hand reaches forward, wraps around my somewhat flaccid cock and tugs gently.

Miranda reemerges. “Big deal. You’re a shower AND a grower.”

That’s a good thing—everyone knows that.

She wraps around me again and this time, I don’t dump her back into the water, instead walking us toward the edge of the pool where a bench is built into the side. It’s not nearly as deep, but we can bob here, kissing without me nearly drowning us both.

“It’s so nice that you’re tall,” she tells me, kissing the underside of my chin. Neck. Collarbone. Wet lips, wet skin. “I like being carried around—you should do it more often.”

“Carry you? I can do that.” She’s light and naked, entire body smushed up against me. Her boobs feel amazing.

I nibble at the side of her neck and she tilts it, giving me more access.

“Mmm,” she moans, fingers running through my drenched hair, nails massaging my scalp.

I heft her so her back is to the wall, ass perched at the edge of the narrow tile bench, pressing my pelvis and dick into the V of her thighs. Inviting. Warm. Even in the water, I can feel the heat of her pussy.

My cock twitches. Hardens.

“Does he want to play?” Miranda reaches below the water and grips it as I gasp, our movement causing a small ripple around us.

Holy shit her hand feels good.

I bite down on my bottom lip when she squeezes.

“Apparently.” We kiss again, my hand sliding up her skin to cup her bare breast, the nipple hard. Pert. Perfect.

“I hear having sex in water is like going down a dry water slide,” she muses, the tip of my dick now pressing against her clit, growing stiffer by the second.

I could make a habit out of touching her.

I kiss Miranda’s wet mouth; it’s warm and soft, tongue sweet. Her boobs? Blissfully flattened against my chest. My hand? Inching down her rib cage, fingers brushing along her side boob, down to grasp her hip.

She adjusts her position on the bench, moving closer toward me. Spreading her legs. Head tipping back.

I suck on her neck, mouth roaming, sun warming our skin as we make out and dry-fuck in the pool.

So hot. So sexy.

The sight of her wet hair and her glistening body has my cock so hard it’s painful, a porno of my own making—a wet dream turned reality.