"I'm going to change!" she said, her voice lilting with excitement, placing her mug on the counter. "And then I make breakfast."
"No!" I said. "I'll make-"
She raised a playfully stern finger, stopping me short.
"I'll make."
And with that she bounded back into the bedroom.
I smiled, shaking my head, and went to pour out another cup of coffee. I then took a brief jaunt outside to grab the L.A. Times, and then sat at my kitchen table reading the news and sipping coffee. The bedroom door was closed but I could hear Catalina singing to herself in Spanish as she moved around. I thought of her naked, trying on various swimsuits, and I shifted in my seat as my cock hardened again.
Then finally the door opened, I looked up, and my jaw dropped.
She had a hand resting on the door frame at shoulder height, leaning into it, her opposite leg slightly bent and cocked out at an angle. She'd put on a base layer of makeup, her eyebrows now dark and setting off her eyes wonderfully, and she'd primped and preened her hair into perfect curling waves. And her clothes...she was wearing a white bikini, with one of those high-waisted thongs that accentuates your hips and ass, but over it she had on a fishnet cover-up, beige and falling off one shoulder.
"How do I look?" she said.
"You know exactly how you look," I said.
She smiled guiltily, then pranced on the balls of her feet past me and into the kitchen. I watched her ass as she went, the thong splitting two incredible, thick, perky, oval butt cheeks. She bent forward over my kitchen counter, provocatively, more than she needed to to peruse the bowl of produce there, fully aware that I was watching her every movement.
"Avocado!" she said, standing up, holding one aloft in her hand. "Great!"
She got to work. I don't have any recollection of what the news was that day, or how my coffee tasted, because I sat at the table and watched her like a drooling cartoon character, obsessed with how her body looked as she moved through my kitchen, at the smoothness of her skin, the tightness of her curves, the glorious olive hue of her body.
When she was finished, she carried two plates over to the table, sat down jauntily, and we started eating. She'd made a very good avocado toast, and we ate in silence, eyeing each other, sometimes breaking out in goofy smiles. And when we were done, it was my turn to get ready, going back into my room to throw on swim trunks while she relaxed at the table with her coffee.
I decided to tease her a little bit, show her some skin as well, and emerged from my bedroom before I was completely ready, only in my shorts and turning a t-shirt over in my hand. I pretended to not see her across the room, to not notice her eyes linger on my torso as I lifted the shirt above my head, stretching out my body, before pulling it down over my head. When the neck of the shirt cleared my eyes I looked over at her and she was studiously looking down at the paper, pretending she'd never been doing anything else.
We drove out to the beach, very early in the scheme of the day but getting a head start on the droves of people that would soon overwhelm it. I kept the windows down, blasted some early period Elvis, looked over at Catalina's bright smile as she soaked in the L.A. scenery, the morning sun turning her hair molten gold.
I watched her run across the sand with glee, only the ocean between her and the horizon, watched her kick her sandals away and jump into the water and immediately discover what all Angelenos eventually learn, that the water is annoyingly cold year round. She screamed and laughed and ran back to where I was laying out towels, cursing in Spanish.
"Unfortunate, right?" I said.
"Terrible!" she said.
But all misery was immediately forgotten faced with a beach to lay on. She pulled her cover-up off over her head, really not revealing anything I couldn't already see but making her body even more intoxicating. I helped her apply sunscreen and tanning oil, her lying down on her stomach as I knelt astride her magnificent ass, pushing my hands up and down the plane of her back. She flipped over afterward, blowing me a kiss as thanks, and stretched out, briefly arching her back off the towel, looking for all the world like a Playboy centerfold, before sighing and relaxing down.
We stayed out there for a couple hours, until the summer masses really started to descend on us and relative tranquility turned to chaos. We decided to get lunch, so we walked to a seafood spot just a couple streets off the water, sat on the patio and ate calamari and shrimp and grouper, split a bottle of white and listened to the gulls caw over the incoming tide. Catalina was joyful, really reveling in her Los Angeles vacation now, laughing and smiling and reacting sumptuously to each sip of drink and bite of food. Her hand often now came to rest on mine, her fingers slowly caressing the inside of my palm, or she'd kick off a sandal and drag the toes of one foot up my calf, regarding me as she leaned forward over the table, playfully nipping the temple tip of her sunglasses, her small breasts pushing together under her cover-up.
I paid for lunch, she thanked me with a firm kiss on the cheek, and we walked back to my car and drove back into the city, in the very early afternoon at this point but feeling somehow like we were on the verge of dusk. The drive was long and Catalina dozed in the passenger seat, and I focused hard on the road, trying not to do the same. But we got back to the apartment without incident and walked upstairs, Catalina leading me by the hand, her head swaying slowly back and forth.
When we entered my apartment, I expected her to let go of my hand, but she didn't, just led me inexorably into my bedroom, not saying a single word. I felt like I was in a trance, that the last few hours had been an unwinding dream. Catalina let go of my hand and I understood instinctually that she wanted me on the bed, so I drifted toward it, sat on the edge with my feet on the floor, and then she was standing in front of me, still in her bikini and cover-up, smelling of sunscreen and ocean spray, reaching behind her head with both hands and putting her hair up, walking forward into the space between my legs, putting her hands on my thighs and descending to her knees, running her hands up and down the top of my legs, staring at me languorously, her head tilting back and forth.
"Catalina," I said. "You-"
"Shh," she said, raising a finger to her lips.
My cock was swelling in my trunks, pushing out down my leg, lifting up the fabric. Her eyes fixed on it, one of her hands coming oh so close as it dragged up and down my thigh. Then she took the hem of the shorts leg between her fingers, and drew it ever so slowly up my thigh, toward the end of my hardening cock, until it drew over the tip and my head emerged, throbbing thick and pink. She left the shorts leg sitting there with just my head exposed, my shaft held tight to my thigh, and she lowered her face to it and stared at it, tilting her head back and forth again, using her fingers to push some loose curls behind an ear. Her eyes raised to me, she shook her head in amazement, exhaled slowly between pursed lips, then looked back down at the head of my cock, opened her mouth, and wrapped her lips just around the tip, not even reaching my ridge, and she moaned deeply, her eyes closing heavily, letting her lips press out against my head. I moaned as well, throwing my head back at the incredible sensation, stretching my neck around in a slow circle, before looking back down at Catalina, at her drawing her lips together into a kissing motion right on the tip of my cock, and then her pulling her face away, her eyes fluttering open and a smile dancing across her lips as she looked up at me and ran her hands down my thighs once again.
"Sweet. Jesus," I said.
She bit her lip, looked down at my pulsing head, at the faintest trace of crimson lipstick sitting right at the tip. She made a satisfied sound, like she'd just eaten a great bite of food, then leaned in again, opened her mouth, and took more of my cock within it, her lips now coming to settle around my ridge, and her eyes closed again on a moan and her face sunk even more into my crotch, looking like she was on a high from the best drug. I felt her tongue start to push against my tip, drag in a circle around my head. I let out a stammering moan, almost falling back flat on the bed but pushing myself forward, bending my torso over her, looking down at her face, her cheek resting on my thigh. Her closest eye opened lazily and regarded me as she made another deeply satisfied moan, and I put one hand in the curls on the side of her head and the other I placed flat on her cheek, tapping it with my fingers close to where my head was pressing, and I figured from everything I'd heard her say in Spanish that she didn't mind dirty talk, and I said:
"You like having that massive cock in your mouth?"
She moaned affirmatively, nodding quickly as the eyebrow above her open eye peaked up her forehead.
