Blaze

David Scott. The yearbook picture was something like eighteen years old and yet, except for the length of his hair, he looked almost the same. The chiseled face was one of youthful confidence, with a cocky, alluring smile, impudent eyebrows, and haughty forehead. But it was the soulful, piercing eyes that grabbed you, that made you want to stop and look and never turn away. The rest of the package was pretty, too, but the eyes revealed the fathomless depths of his soul.

Holding the yearbook, David flipped back to Holly's senior picture. Sitting beside him, she groaned and tried to cover it with her hands.

"Now stop," he said, pushing her hands away. "You got to see mine, now we get to look at yours."

She cringed at the bespectacled Holly Alexander of the Class of 1990. She looked like a total dork with her enormous dark brown curls, oversized plastic glasses and silly Material Girl outfit. The plastic jewelry alone was an embarrassment.

He looked at the picture with an objective expression, then at the current Holly. "That was a really hot look for you," he said straight-faced. "Maybe you should go back to it."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically even while he cracked up laughing. She grabbed the yearbook from his hands and closed it. "So much for walking down memory lane. Now I remember why I didn't want to buy one of these yearbooks my senior year. And the sad thing was, that was the

best

of the pictures the photographer took of me. I vaguely recall that the rest of them made me cry."

"Well, the important thing is, you're hot now."

"Yeah, right. Drink some more sangria and tell me more lies."

Sitting on the sofa in his den, Holly was struck by the irony that of all the girls in her senior class, she was the one sharing a pitcher of sangria with David. She hadn't been popular in high school; in fact, if it hadn't been for art, she would have been a total social misfit. Her art had distinguished her in her high school and beyond. But for David, beauty had been his birthright. And not just beauty, but charm and wit and athleticism. Captain of the swim team, top honors on the wrestling team, a standout in track. And wildly popular, not just with the girls, but with everyone. Everyone loved David. He was easy to love.

She felt an arm stretch out on the back of the sofa behind her. His body was close to hers, close enough that she could feel his body heat through his t-shirt and her top. She looked down at his thigh as it rested beside hers. It was hard to believe now that she had sketched him in the nude, stroking himself to the point of orgasm. But she had, and the memory of it gave her a thrill that made her heart race.

"Holly," he said, setting down his glass on the end table beside him. "There's something I need to make clear to you. I've had relationships with women as well as men."

He stopped, looking into her eyes as though to gage her reaction. Then he continued.

"I can't tell you what the trigger is, why I feel attracted to someone. I just know it's there. Someone once told me that bisexuals are greedy. We want it all. I don't know, maybe it's true. I just know when I'm around someone and it clicks, I want to get to know that person better, and part of that 'getting to know you better' is having sex. Maybe I'm wrong to think that way, but I do."

She shrugged. "I don't think you're wrong in feeling that way. I think most of us are just too afraid to act on unconventional feelings."

"Have you ever had sexual feelings for a woman?"

"Sure. Everyone has same-sex feelings now and then. But I've never felt those feelings so strongly that I wanted to explore them. I don't really click very often anyway. My former fiancé was the only lover I ever had and I haven't been with anyone since him. I guess I'm just not a very sexual person."

She had said all this while staring down at the design on his t-shirt. Now David was silent, and her gaze lifted to look into his dark eyes. It was easy to mistake them as brown; up close, however, as she was now, she could see the blue flecks against the darker shade. She remembered thinking once that his eyes were the color of the ocean at sunset: like fire on water. Perhaps it was that enigma that made him so irresistible.

His hand moved over hers while his gaze searched her eyes for some telltale sign. Holly felt a blush rising on her cheeks. His words echoed in her ears: "When it clicks, I want to get to know that person better...." Was he looking at her that way, holding her hand, because he wanted to get to know her better?

His face grew closer and she closed her eyes. A moment later she felt his lips. Raw desire possessed her; she opened to him, giving herself over completely to his roving tongue. She had no defense against his kiss. It was unlike anything in her experience. His tongue was like a creature with a life of its own, not even a part of him. It filled her, possessed her, made her subject to its will. She was enslaved and joyful to be so. She gave back to him out of instinct, hardly cognizant of her own actions. The world was reduced to wet lips, probing tongues, clashing teeth, and hungry sounds.

The sighs that came from her wouldn't be silenced. Her hands, too, willfully went where they wanted, up his arms, over his shoulders, to his hot neck. His arms at the same time were bounding around her, hard muscles crushing her ribs as he dragged her against his chest. Muscle and heat enveloped her. Holly felt his hand in her hair, against her scalp, as he relentlessly kissed her. She felt faint for lack of air and overwhelmed by the passion pulsating in her groin. What had she said only minutes ago? That she

wasn't

a sexual person?

His grip loosened as one of his hands effortlessly swept up her flowing top. The lacy fabric of her bra almost melted under his scorching touch as he fondled her breast. David felt a large, erect nipple against a hard areola. He broke the kiss and looked down at her breasts, at the nipple he held, and distractedly bent over to suck it. His full lips took in more than just her nipple; her whole breast seemed to disappear into his mouth. Holly laid back her head on the sofa and stared unseeing at the ceiling while he administered his seduction to first one breast and then the other.

Her fingers ran through his dark hair. She glanced down, seeing for the first time a few glints of gray across his temple. His head was so big compared to her small hand; not until now had she really noticed how truly big-boned he was. His face was right there on her chest as he sucked and licked her nipples, and from time to time he glanced up at her, a smile curving his mouth.

Having no confidence in her own looks, Holly couldn't have imagined how her beauty struck David. Sure, he'd been with some of the most beautiful women in the world, professionally, romantically, or both. But Holly was real, all smoldering dark eyes, flushed cheeks and gaping mouth, with her pink tongue laying just beyond her curled lips. With a groan of longing, David went back to her mouth, kissing her with savage intensity.

Beneath him, she shuddered. Her groin lifted to meet his, her upper thighs pressing in around his hardening shaft. Maybe it was just the way the seam of her jeans pressed against her clit, but she felt she was about to orgasm.

David broke the kiss and pulled her onto his lap, rocking her back into the crook of his arm. The soft cushion of the sofa arm was there behind her as well, and he brought both his arms around to dispense with her shoes and the zipper on her jeans. She watched silently, as he pulled her jeans off her narrow hips and down her legs, then did the same with her thong. He lifted her top off her head and turned her to unclasp her bra and draw it away from her chest. Naked in his arms, flushed by the unexpectedness of it, she stared at him in complete bewilderment. How had this happened?

Wrapping his arms around her naked frame, he lifted her and carried her into his bedroom. The bed gave under their combined weight. Holly felt a cool sheet under her; the bedspread was folded down to the foot of the bed. She was aware of dark, heavy, masculine furniture, but her gaze rested on David as he stripped off his clothes.

Ironic, that she had sketched him nude earlier, yet seeing him now, standing over her...it was like she was seeing his body for the first time. His muscled shoulders shadowed narrow hips. He wasn't just beautifully made; he'd kept what nature had given him and improved on it over years of purposeful fitness. As she laid there looking over his body, his hand fell to his cock and he stroked it lightly. She smiled, a warm feeling tantalizing her groin. She liked watching him do that.

"Touch yourself," he said, and Holly spread her legs before him. He watched as her small hand lowered to the glistening patch of black pubic hair, to the hidden nub underneath. With her middle finger, she gently stroked the hard bead, her hips lifting rhythmically against the sensation. Tilting to her side, she wound her left hand behind her and slid her middle and index fingers as deep into her vagina as she could go.

"Oh fuck," David gasped, stepping closer to the bed to watch her masturbate. From his vantage point he could see her small fingers plunging into her sopping vagina while her right hand continued stroking her clit. Holding his dick in his hand, he jerked it harder as he watched her. He could smell her aroma wafting up to him and he sucked in breath after breath, almost able to taste her from where he stood.

Holly fought to keep her eyes opened. She didn't want to miss anything. Her gaze was fixed on his cock, and how his long fingers shaped in a tight O swept back and forth over it, pulling slightly against the skin. He jutted his hips forward just a bit, and it seemed all the muscles in his abdomen and thighs were flexed as he strained to control the blood flow to his groin. She longed to both watch him come and have him come inside of her. At the same time she was tantalized by the way he was staring down at her cunt, so obviously aroused as she masturbated. She'd no idea he was such a voyeur himself.

"I want to watch you come," he said, making his intent clear. "Don't hold back. Give into it."

She groaned and let her eyelids close for a minute, reveling in the copious amounts of juice that coated her fingers. Her vagina was pulsating with the most intense sensations, but it was her clit that seized her and carried her upwards. Each thrust of her hips took her to higher levels of pleasure. Nothing short of raw ecstasy held her. Her body felt like a butterfly crashing out of its chrysalis, a magic butterfly that radiated hot flames and shot off fireworks with the first flap of its wings. She erupted, crying out, as her orgasm possessed her and sent her body crashing, like the butterfly, into a pool of warm exhilaration.

Her eyelids fluttered upwards to see him staring down at her crotch, an agonized look on his face as he pumped his shaft rapidly. The moment their eyes met, he gasped and climaxed, his semen flying over her to the other side of the bed and splatting on the floor. Another load landed on the sheet, the next on her stomach, the last on her belly. A few more dribbles fell on the floor. His contorted face relaxed and he fought to regain his breathing.

Suddenly he smiled. "Well, fuck, that was hot," he said enthusiastically, reaching down to rub her inner thighs with both his hands. He continued looking down at her pussy swimming in her own juice. "Damn, you're a squirter. Did you know that?"

"What's a squirter?"

"You don't watch much porn, do you?"

"No, not really."

"A squirter is a woman who has a lot of fluid come out of her, like an ejaculation."

"Oh."

"Want to take a swim?"

She could think of nothing better.

Throwing open the French doors off of his bedroom, David led her outside to the dark pool.

"One of the great advantages of this lot," he said, "is that I don't have neighbors behind me. Not yet, anyway."

He dove into the pool first, gliding under the surface with an ease that made her envious. Holly followed after a moment, easing her way in and gasping a little at the cool water as it lapped at her sides. She was skinny dipping for the first time in her life and it felt luxurious. Turning onto her back, she floated more than anything, although now and then she threw in a back stroke or two to keep the momentum going. The sky overhead was a deep blue-black and, because of the lack of lights around them, she could see constellations she hadn't noticed in years. She remembered going camping with her father when she was six or seven and hearing his stories about the constellations, but really she'd only half-listened. She'd been too busy following shooting stars.

Behind her, the theme to

Jaws

resonated from a baritone voice. Something dark with a fin on its head skimmed toward her. She shrieked with laughter and tried to escape, but the man-shark kept coming, closer and closer and closer, his two-note, "bum-bum, bum-bum" getting louder and louder the closer he got. Suddenly the shape disappeared under the surface and Holly turned frantically about her, trying to see in the darkness. Something nipped her leg and she screamed and jumped, laughing hysterically as she did. Another nip on her butt and she whirled around, flinging her arms at the surface, which served no purpose but to splash water in her own eyes and blind her.

Then something huge came right up in front of her and bounded out of the water. There was an "Ahhrrrrrrrr!", and a pair of hands like jaws dragged her down under the surface. The creature jerked her in mock-attack back and forth, then lurched upwards, still holding her, to the surface. She gasped for air amid her giggles; David was chuckling deeply and lustfully, and she held onto him with one hand while the other playfully beat on his shoulder with a closed fist.

"Let me go, you animal!" she screeched.

"No! You're mine!" he declared in a funny voice, hoisting her in his arms to carry her to the steps. "As a superior creature of the deep, I have defeated you fair and square! Now I will satisfy my hunger on your young flesh."

"Oh no! Please don't eat me!" she cried as he set her down on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling over the edge.

He dragged her hips to the edge and pushed her legs apart.

"I

will

eat you!" he asserted, grasping her upper thighs with his big hands and pressing his thumbs into her cleft. He looked at the dark glistening opening beneath the pink lips. With lusty enthusiasm, he announced,

"Tonight, I dine on pussy!"

Holly smiled in helpless delight as he foraged in her grove, plundering her fruit with a searching and eager tongue. It took her about fifteen seconds to realize David was a master of cunnilingus. His thumbs rested on each side of her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, while his tongue pleasured the mysteries deep within her vagina. Holly closed her eyes and relaxed back on her hands. Whoever had taught him to do this deserved her thanks.

But keeping her eyes closed was impossible. She had to watch him. His wet hair glistened in the darkness as he slowly administered his oral caresses. He obviously was enjoying himself immensely. Her one frame of reference was Sam, who would have rather crawled over broken glass than perform cunnilingus, although she could recall him doing it once or twice when he was drunk.

So watching David was a breathtaking experience. His tongue left her vagina to lap at her labia with long, slow, agonizing strokes. This he did with careful insistency until finally, in her deep, tortured, "Oh, God!" he got the desired effect. Like the rest of him, his tongue was big on her labia, almost covering it completely when pressed against her flesh. With just the tip of his tongue hooked into her vagina, he pushed the rest of it hard into her soft folds and wiggled it.

"David!" she gasped in a high, breathless voice. Despite her efforts to keep her body in check, she couldn't help but thrust against him. The pressure on her clit from his thumbs increased just as his tongue dipped deeper into her vagina. The rest of his tongue squirmed over the surface of her pussy, tantalizing every possible nerve ending with the help of her thrusting hips. Powerless to escape him, Holly gave into the agony. She stared at his face, at his half-closed eyes, and adored him for doing this to her. While one hand supported her as she leaned back, she lifted the other to anxiously stroke his head.

"David, I'm gonna come," she whispered urgently.

He didn't change anything, just kept doing what he was doing, keeping steady, relentless pressure on the sides of her clit while his tongue played havoc with her senses. Something gushed over his tongue and he closed his eyes. She cried out and orgasmed, her hips jerking uncontrollably against his face as juice squirted out of her all over his chin. The taste of it was sweet and ripe, its texture silky different from anything else in existence. At leisure he sipped from the surface of her hot flesh, loving the delicate folds of her labia. Small wonder he was a huge fan of Georgia O'Keefe's paintings.

With his hands holding onto her hips, he laid his head on her upper thigh and closed his eyes. His cock was rock-hard in the cool water and he wanted to wait until it relaxed a bit...although, if he were honest with himself, he was not in the best position to get over being aroused. The scent of her sex was intoxicating.

Holly peered down at his dark head, gently caressing his wet hair. "Thank you, David," she said. "That really was a gift."

He smiled but didn't move. With a pang in her chest, Holly realized just how deeply he could hurt her. She could so easily fall in love with him. Thank God she knew he was bisexual. It would be disastrous if something like that were sprung on her unexpectedly. As it was, she couldn't pretend to be comfortable with the idea. It was a foregone conclusion that he would never be monogamous. Someone would always be in the wings, maybe more than one someone, and she couldn't see herself blithely accepting others into their relationship. It wasn't so much a jealousy thing as it was a desire to keep their life private. She had no desire to let another man into their bedroom to watch them or even participate. What she had with David she wanted to hide, like a treasure.

"I bet you're hungry," he said without opening his eyes.

She grinned. "I'm dead, remember? You ate me up."

He moaned seductively and kissed her leg. "Yes, I do remember," he said against her skin. Holly watched as he sprinkled kisses over her flesh. His full lips were beautiful to watch and even more beautiful to feel.

After a moment he walked out of the pool and she followed him back into the house. He retrieved two bathrobes from his closet, a heavier one for himself and a short one for her. Standing in his bathroom, she tied the sash, then looked in the mirror. Good grief. Her mascara had run. She glanced over the counter for something to use and spotted a bottle of body lotion. It wasn't usually what she would have liked but it did the job of removing the streaks from under her eyes.

David stood behind her messing with his hair. His eyes met hers in the mirror. He made a funny face at her and she chuckled.

Leaning towards her, he intoned softly against her ear, "Bum-bum, bum-bum!"

Holly shrieked and ran out of the bathroom. He followed closely on her heels, chasing her all the way to the kitchen. She picked up an oven mitt from the counter and threw it at his chest.

"Ouch!" he cried, stopping in his tracks. He held his chest where she had hit him. "You hurt me," he said, feigning tears. "You hurt the land-shark."