Arizona Margarita

This was supposed to be my post-breakup weekend getaway.

I finally break up with my boyfriend because I'm tired of telling him he needs to "communicate with me."

Then I cash in my airline miles for the cheapest place that can give me sunburn. The winner is the Arizona desert.

I charge two nights at a nice resort on my credit card, pull on my too-small bathing suit in my room, turn off my cell phone, and go to the pool.

When I sit on a chaise lounge chair with a massive margarita, I vow my only goals are to get stupidly drunk and imagine ways all of the happy couples will meet untimely deaths.

I imagine a newlywed couple getting explosive diarrhea in the hot tub when a bird poops on my shoulder.

"Ugh!"

"Oh no." A pair of khaki shorts rushes next to me. "Ginger, that was rude."

I grimace. "My name isn't Ginger." I dip my napkin in my margarita since I have no other liquid to clean my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, not you. Ginger is my parrot."

As I clean the goop off my shoulder, a blue Macaw steals a sip of my margarita.

I swat at it. "Hey!"

"Ginger! Behave yourself!" A green polo throws himself across me for the parrot. The bird flies away, but its owner ends up laying across my lap.

I threaten, "I am going to leave a terrible review."

"No, please don't!" He scrambles upright until he's sitting on his knees next to me.

He stares at me like I just signed his death sentence, but I want him alive and well.

The guy is friggin gorgeous.

My signature flirty face flashes a glance at him before I can remind myself that I am totally off guys this weekend.

I scrunch my face into a deep frown, but it's too late. He blinks, entranced.

He clears his throat like a dork. It's adorable. "I could make it up to you..."

My pussy tingles between my legs.

I mentally scold myself as I ask, "...How do you want to make it up to me?"

He nods at something over my shoulder. "There's a VIP tent over there."

I turn and see a colorful glamping tent faced toward the mountains. My heart thumps and heat simmers in my chest.

Screw celibacy.

"Okay."

His voice breaks. "Re-A-lly?"

I don't bother to say anything. I just stand and walk toward the tent.

Just as I reach the tent, he grabs the curtain and opens it for me. A fan blows cool air on my face, and a plush queen-sized bed waits inside.

I sensually smile at him as I walk into the tent. He enters and closes the curtain behind him as I step in front of the bed. When he looks at me, I drop my bikini bottoms onto the bohemian rug.

His eyes brighten and he smiles at my bare mound. Times like these make my painful brazilian waxes so worth it. Just imagining him licking my smooth skin makes me wet. When he literally licks his lips, my pussy pulses with desire.

I slowly sit on the edge of the bed and then open my legs.

He doesn't look away from my pussy as he approaches me. His breathing deepens with every step closer, and mine deepens in turn. I breathe heavier, and heavier, and heavier until he kneels and suctions his lips to my clit. I gasp and grab the sheets.

He swirls his tongue around my clit. First, he pleasures it lightly and teases more arousal out of me. I try to keep quiet; the tent material is thin. But it's harder to keep my composure when he spreads open my folds with his fingers and licks me more forcefully. I desperately suffocate a moan in my throat as he licks me like he wants to set it free. His wet tongue flicks the tip of my clit. It glides up and down my folds. It sneaks through the entrance of my vagina. My hips grind against his mouth. My fingers grab his hair. My back arches from the bed, and my toes curl.

Fuck, he's good at this, and I want to tell him. I want to moan, and growl, and shout how good he is. I want the entire resort to go quiet and listen to what he's doing to me in here.

His lips leave my clit and his fingers replace them in a split second. He quickly rubs my clit. He puts it into a frenzy of sensations that race through my body. A whine escapes me, and a surprised gasp follows when he slides two fingers inside of me.

He rubs me and finger-fucks me. I watch his fingers inspire the pleasure that's grown inside of me. Hot blood rushes through my veins. My pussy tightens around his knuckles. I look into his eyes, and when he smiles like he knows exactly how he got me here, I jolt and shake around him.

"Did I make it up to you?"

I sigh, "Yes."