Summer Swap 5-9

Her first inkling was to say to Cody, “Hell-no.” But then the sight of Cody’s muscular forearms, that handsome face with those sparkling blue eyes, made her wonder what it would be like to be in bed with her Sully and this man, his tanned skin all hot and putting his large hands on her. She looked over her shoulder to find Sully close, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, naked but for the pillow clutched over his crotch. It didn’t shake the urge to open the door wider and tell Cody to come on in and make himself comfortable. Two men were more fun than one.

She said, “Uh... Sully?”

Sully, unsure, said to Cody, “You want... what, you want to come in?”

Cody shook his head, blonde locks shaking. “No, not me. It’s uh...” He waved a hand down the hall. “It’s Chey.”

Scarlet shook her head, bewildered. “What are you saying?”

“Uh, Chey sent me to find you. Sent me to ask if she could come to your room when you guys go to bed. She’s kind of, um... freaking out.”

Scarlet stepped forward. “What did you do to her?”

Cody put a hand over his heart, looking wounded and innocent. “I didn’t do anything. She asked me to ask you if she can come stay with you.”

Scarlet poked her head further into the hall and looked to the right. “Where is she?”

“She’s in her room. Like, hyperventilating.”

“Oh no,” she whispered. “A panic attack?”

Cody shrugged. “Yeah, probably. Talking like a million miles an hour, eyes wide like she’s got stare. We were playing cards with Lily and Arlo, we weren’t up to anything, and she just...”

“Went quiet?”

“Yeah. Went to her room. I went to check on her, see if she was okay, and it looked like something was wrong.”

“Oh, baby,” Scarlet sighed. “Okay, I’ll go get her.”

“I can get her,” Cody said, taking a step aside. “She made me ask for permission first.”

“I’ll go. Thanks, Cody.” She turned to Sully. “You okay with this?”

“You’re bringing her here?”

“We’ll catch up with what we were doing in the morning.”

“Yeah, no, go,” he said without any sign of disgruntlement—another reminder of how well she’d done in her mate selection. “I gotta find my pants,” he said, turning away, ruffling his own hair.

Now she said to Cody, “Take me to her.”

* * *

A huge and joyous feeling swelled in Byron’s chest, like being at school and finding out the test you hadn’t studied for was canceled. He was light and bubbly, hopping off the bed and headed for Carla’s bathroom, or to find where she stored her towels.

He stopped in the middle of the room, putting a hand over his forehead. This wasn’t a dorm room. He was on a yacht in the Caribbean, in an unused room. This roleplaying ruse had been so convincing.

When he turned, he witnessed Carla coming out of her orgasmic stupor, chuckling to himself at the amazing sight, and removing his shirt. As she lifted her head, features contorting under his pearly mask, he sat on the side of the bed. The lack of shame filled him with pride. His cock was still stuck upright out of the fly of his private school dress pants, ready for action.

“I couldn’t find any towels, but I’ve got my shirt here.”

Carla’s head plopped back down on the pillow. “There’re towels in the drawer. The nightstand here,” she said, thumbing to the side, her eyes closed, features scrunched.

He pulled open the drawer to find laundered and folded towels at the ready for just such an ejaculatory occasion. Of course she’d been prepared. He unfolded one and lay it over her head, gathering up his mess until she took over for him, her warm hands pushing his away to do a better job. She flipped the towel over and over finding clean spots, then tossed the towel onto the floor. Now she lay looking at him, her hair spiked and messy, her face restraining bursting mirth, biting her lips to prevent laughter.

He kept all apologies at bay, offered no explanation. His private school character was pretty fucking proud of that masculine show. He stared back at her, aloof, smirking.

“That was pretty hot,” she whispered.

He nodded, letting his eyes roam her face, then her exposed chest, big breasts spilling over the “V” of her unbuttoned shirt. He thumbed a nipple, Carla tucking her chin down to watch him do it. She put her hand over his.

“I think I’m ready,” she said.

He nodded again. “I know I am,” he said.

“I know I am, too,” she said, her expression loosening to something more serious. Then quieter: “It’s my first time.”

“I know,” he said.

Carla uncovered his hand and touched his chest. She wore no wedding ring. Cheyenne had removed his. Carla and Byron were two young lovers ready to do the deed for the first time. He stood and let his pants fall, Carla admiring his renewed hardness, him proud to show her he was young and virile and she was so hot nothing could slow him down. He stepped out of his pants and got a knee on the bed, Carla lifting the covers, shimmying underneath as he joined her. She made funny, nervous faces at him as, under the covers, she unzipped her skirt and pushed it down, her panties and leggings going along. The way her face pressed close to his while she did it, the way she smiled and moved her eyes around, convinced him of the scenario they were playing out. He couldn’t thank her enough for it.

Once she was naked she bolted closer to him and looped arms around his neck, her mouth sealing against his. They made out, their naked fronts pressed together, and when Carla was ready for him, she rolled and pulled him along, guiding him to get over top of her and between her open legs. His cock brushed against her slick labia and he jolted with a renewed urge to orgasm.

Carla said, “We don’t have any condoms.”

“Is that okay?”

“It should be,” she said, brow lowering, her mouth scrunching, unsure.

“Are you worried?”

She waited a beat, then said, “Don’t come inside me, all right?”

“I won’t.”

Her brow lowered even more. “Promise me you won’t.”

“I promise,” he said.

He bit his lower lip and rolled his hips, feeling their hipbones touching, feeling his hanging sack touching her skin. Then felt the heat of her sex, the wetness there, watching her face as she grew more and more comfortable with the idea that they were about to have sex for the first time in their lives.

Carla’s plump lips parted, and she emitted a small gasp as the head of his cock stroked against her entry. Her legs went around his waist and that first-time sex excitement pounded in his heart, his temples, and in his neck. He eased it in, and Carla moaned. Then gasped, “Slow.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, and he said, “You feel so amazing.” And it was true. She was hot and wet and tight.

Carla said, “It feels... it feels so good,” brow wrinkling like how good it felt troubled her innocent mind. They were doing a bad thing. A thing that could get them both kicked out of school.

Her eyes were closed, and she smelled like sweet candy perfume. And as he entered her body—a thing he’d done before—something else happened that was unexpected. He felt for her. His heart opened in his chest like a flower to sunlight. In that instant, their bodies combined, he felt a wave of overwhelming emotion for this mean-girl, this too-hot-for-her-own-good vixen. In this moment Carla was vulnerable and innocent. She cared about him, wanted him to be happy, wanted for them both to experience something wonderful...

It felt a lot like fucking love, that’s what it felt like.

* * *

With Sully back in their room looking for pants, Scarlet strode the bright hall with Cody, her naked under the bedsheets swaddled around her like an evening gown, the train dragging on the carpet behind her.

Cody’s long legs kept the pace. He said, “You two all alone in your room, huh, no Philippe, no Paloma? So you guys cut bait?”

She scoffed. “What do you mean cut bait? Aren’t we the bait? We got off their hook.”

“If you say so,” Cody said, slowing, pretending to check out her backside as she walked. “The way you’ve been strutting around,” he said with sly amusement, “looks more like you want someone on your hook, not the other way around.”

She swished the bedsheets tighter around and stopped so he’d get ahead again. “Yeah, sure, right—but I don’t believe for a second Philippe and Paloma weren’t the ones trawling the waters. And what about you, handsome?”

Cody walked backwards now, hands in his pockets. “What about me? What did I do?”

“What did you do? Just about everything, bringing us all out onto this magical yacht vacation, an opportunity none of us could refuse.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m such a jerk.”

She side-eyed him, smirking. “You know what I’m saying, Cody, so don’t try to deflect now that it’s obvious.”

Cody was also smiling, knowing there was no sense in denying the accusation. “It’s been a blast, I gotta tell you, Scar. I mean, even better than I imagined.”

“You didn’t know we were all freaks, that all of us, deep down, had a bunch of stuff we wanted to try out, we just never got the chance?”

“Nah, me and Carla figured you were all freaks. I just didn’t think you were this freaky.” He stopped at Byron and Cheyenne’s room door and put his hand on the lever. “I think it’s because of Byron and Carla.”

“What do you mean?”

He nodded his head aside to the door. “Why she’s freaking out. She seemed like she was so into it, like it didn’t bother her, but we were all playing cards and she just...”

“She’s had panic attacks before. I should have seen this coming. She’ll be fine, Cody. She just needs a hug.”

“I could’ve hugged her.”

Scarlet pushed him back from the door with mock scorn, and turned the lever herself, saying to him, “Just let me do the hugging, okay?—you start hugging Chey, that big dick’s bound to come out and she’s on all fours, you yelling yee haw or giddy up and waving a cowboy hat over your head.”

Cody chuckled like he knew she was right and that could happen, and she went in the dark room ahead of him, calling Cheyenne’s name.