Our Love Story

Enzo adds, “Whenever you’re ready, so are we.”

“So, how do you propose we get more comfortable with one another?” she asks.

I raise my eyebrows. “You and I could do something today, I could take you surfing. If we get out on some boards, we’ll be forced to think about something besides sex.”

“Surfing?” Chloe exclaims. “I don’t know, it seems really hard.”

“I’m a pro,” I assure her. “A literal professional. I can teach you. What do you say?”

She grins. “I’m in.”Chapter SevenMasonA few hours later I’m out with Chloe in the ocean, she’s fallen off her board a few dozen times and I patiently helped her get back on, but the truth is: I want to get her down.

Down in the sand, with nothing on. Because two hours of staring at her bikini-clad body has gotten me hard despite the cold water I’m treading in.

“I need more core strength,” she says, laughing as she unsuccessfully attempts popping up from the board for the thirtieth time. “And I still can’t believe you are recording my failure.”

She points to the camera mounted on my helmet, the one I wear for this very reason.

“Sorry, it’s part of the gig.”

“It’s fine—so long as you are as good at editing the footage as you are at taking it.”

I smile, telling her not to worry, I won’t put in anything that is unflattering.

“I think this next wave is gonna be it,” I tell her. “Focus, Chloe. Focus on getting up on your feet. You got this.”

She looks over at me apprehensively, her hair wet around her face but her eyes bright with excitement. “I want to get up so badly.”

“Then let’s do it. Come on, now,” I tell her.

With our bellies on the boards, we swim out to the gentle wave coming toward us. I call out to her to pop up, as I do, and she does what I say. Her feet wobble on the board, but then—she catches it.

She rides her wave, screaming as she does. “Mason! Oh my God! Look! I’m doing it! This is amazing.”

I grin as I watch her little bikini bottoms ride up her butt crack, looking so damn sweet nestled between her round ass cheeks. She complained that the suit didn’t fit her right. It was just an extra suit we found in the pool house from the vacation rental. But I don’t mind that it’s a little tight. Gives me a better visual of her creamy skin.

We ride the wave to the shore, I stay a few yards behind her. When our feet are firmly planted in the sand, I help her carry her surfboard back to the beach. I drop them both in the sand and then turn to look at her. I smile, but she doesn’t realize what’s happened.

I’m grateful for the private beach, because if anyone was around I think she’d be a little nervous right now. Self-conscious.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her face sun-kissed, her legs sandy. She looks so damn beautiful.

“I think you lost something.”

She looks down, immediately grabbing hold of her perfect tits.

Last night while she still wore that sundress I had no idea her breasts were so big, but earlier in the bikini top I had a better idea. Still, nothing compares to this. They are untethered, completely exposed, and I see that they are fucking milk jugs.

I love breasts like hers; nice, big juicy tits that are so fucking horny for my cock. I know hers are because her nipples are hard. Her breasts are so large she can’t even contain them with her hands.

“Oh my God, I lost my top.” She looks out toward the ocean, forlorn.

“It won’t be a problem for me,” I say, pulling her close. She exhales, realizing that the top is long gone and that I have no intention of pulling away from her.

“You did so well out there today,” I tell her. “You were a natural.”

“Yeah right, Mason. You’re the natural one. You are flawless on that surfboard. I could watch you up there all day.” She lets go of her breasts, and feeling them against my bare chest gets me hard as fuck.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Chloe. Do you not have any idea how fucking hot you are?”

“Sure, I am,” she says sarcastically.

“No more self-deprecation, woman,” I tease. “I mean it.” I push her hands away so she can’t try to cover herself. You’re gorgeous. I mean, do you have any idea how perfect your tits are?”

She shakes her head with her eyes closed. “I feel so exposed.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Someone might see me and wonder what happened to the other half of my clothing.”

“Not gonna be a problem here. I brought us to a private beach for a reason, no one can surf here except you and me.”