| don't touch by destiny Lance dug his feet deep into the sand at Chris' instructions. He was drunk of his ass, sitting on the beach in California, his mind whirring and spinning, the sound of the waves crashing echoing in his ears. "Lance?" The voice was so far away, so soft and gentle he almost didn't hear it. His hands covered his head in failed attempts to keep the noise out and the vomit down. It would be a fucking embarassment if he had to spew in front of her, the girl with the dark brown ringlets and olive skin. Her name escaped him at the moment, much to his drunken dismay, but her mouth, her skin, her smell still lingered in his mind. He recalled sneaking off behind the rocks just a little while ago, her hands hot on his skin, her lips exploring his body recklessly. He kind of recalled falling back to the sand like some old movie and covering her body with his, sucking on her neck, licking a trail down her collarbone to her breasts. He wasn't sure which one of them had taken her top off, but his mouth found her nipples and he spent a lot of time on them because he liked the little moans that floated from her throat to his ears. "Lance, are you going to be all right?" That voice again. He knew damned well it was her, and he tried to pick up his head, look into those jade eyes of hers and let her know he was fine, he wasn't some fucking lightweight kid who couldn't hold his liquor. He'd just had too much, and sharing that joint with Justin had just sent his stomach into a sudden tailspin, but he was fine. His hand flew up and smacked Chris' arm in the hopes he could explain it to her somehow. "Look, just give him a little space. He's trying to let the feeling pass. He'll be fine." Thanks Chris, he wanted to say, is that all you could think of? But the bile in the back of his throat was rising and falling in time with his breathing, and he feared any attempts to speak would cause a messy scene. "Okay, well, we're going to be going soon. If he feels better, just let him know okay?" "Okay, I'll tell him." Lance listened for her footsteps to walk away, but realized that they were on sand, and sand made no noise. He wanted to hit rewind in the universe, fly around the world backwards like Superman and turn time back. He would skip the six pack and pass on the pot. He would still have snuck off with....what the fuck was her name...and had that fun. He remembered being so excited, so turned on by her he could hardly wait to get his swim trunks off. That feeling hadn't happened in so long. Her skin was so fucking soft and tasted salty from the ocean air, and he wanted to devour her right away. He tried to stall, take his time with her. The mix of the sultry heat from the noon day sun and the alcohol, and her body, damn her flawless body. He loved that her bottem was tied with strings, and enjoyed tugging the little bows apart with his teeth, scraping the skin on her hip with his teeth. She made that little noise again, and when he peered up at her, he noticed her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. Lance heard the laughter and voices carrying over from the other side of the rock, the impromtu football game causing squeals from the women and gruff chuckles from the men. Cool breezes wafted by, and he let his fingers trail up her inner thigh, causing gooseflesh to prickle on her skin. "Are you cold?" he'd asked her, and he knew how thick his voice had sounded, thick with lust and the erection pressing against her leg, and he wanted to take her so badly. "No," she whispered back, finding his hair with her hands. She was rough with him, pulling him back to her lips, crushing them in a combination of need and impatience. "I wonder if anyone can see us." The comment was offhanded, made in the heat of the moment, and suddenly Lance panicked. Could the guys see them from where they were. He figured the rocks made good cover, but suddenly the laughter and voices had stopped, the crashing waves the only sound cascading through the air. He wondered just where JC, Justin, Joey and Chris were. Glancing back over his shoulder, he swore he felt the heat of stares on his bare back and shuddered. It would be bad to be caught like this, very bad. She was off limits. "Hey," she'd said to him, cupping his face with her hands. "You are fucking gorgeous, do you know that? Do you know that the second I saw you here today I knew I had to have you? I had to explore you with my mouth and my body." She wrapped her legs around him and jerked him down close. "I want you to fuck me Lance. Can you do that now?" Lance's eyes were a shroud of confusion, and he was uncomfortable. A burning feeling overtook his gut and he began to sweat, little beads popping out at his temples, dripping down his sideburns. His eyebrows knitted in uncertainty, and he chewed on his lip. "Maybe we shouldn't be here," he said, the euphoric feelings subsiding, being replaced by sickening dizziness. Her transclucent eyes gazed up at him and she dug her talon nails into his back, pressing herself up to him. "Why not?" she murmered, grinding her hips upwards. His erection was pressing against her at just the right spot and she wanted to stay, right there, just a few minutes longer. Lance fought with his conscious, something he really hated to do at that moment. It had been weeks since he'd had sex, or months, he didn't remember. But this was what he promised not to do with her. Fucking vowed and he never broke promises. He watched as she writhed beneath him, oblivious to his hesitation, so close to her own orgasm nothing mattered much. He grimaced as her breath quickened, and he knew she was close. "Now, Lance," she inahled, her face twisting to the side, little grains of sand glittering her body. He bit his lip to keep himself in check and Horton the fucking Elephant by Dr. Suess popped into his head. "i meant what i said and i said what i meant" and it repeated over and over in his head. "Lance, Jesus Christ, fuck me now!" It was a low scream, and he cried out as her nails raked down his back harshly. She was so ready, so fucking ready he slipped right in without warning or much moving, and she bucked up against him. His mind whirled with the quote and he could see Joey's face right in front of him, his trusting eyes and honest smile, asking Lance to watch out for his little cousin, make sure Justin didn't get his hands all over her, or JC. And now, here he was, the one asked specifically to do a job, failing miserably. The feeling was just too hard to ignore and he moved quickly, fear pounding in his chest, the beer sloshing around in him, his head swimming with nasuea and he was sure he was going to be sick, really ill and there was nothing he could do about it. Lance felt her tense, her thighs grip him in pleasure and a tinkly moan pass her pink lips, and then, she collapsed backwards, all her muscles relaxing. His body said move it, go, and his mind heard Joey's voice from behind, from the left and the right, and the sickness rising impatiently. He rolled off into the sand with a silent groan and looked away, his face pale and his hands trembling. "Lance?" She had wanted to talk, to help him, to let him have his pleasure too, so she took him into her mouth and swirled her tounge around him, sucking and licking, and he wanted to do this, but he couldn't. Finally, he'd pushed her up, and forced a smile. "Too much beer," he said, hoping it would be all the explanation she needed, hoping that maybe in some recess of her mind she realized that men could have feelings too. The sympathetic smile was too much for him and he grabbed his swim trunks, slipping them back on, ignoring the sand that seemed to be everywhere on his body, stuck in every crevice. "I'll see you back there," he spat, disgusted with himself, with his broken promise to Joey, with his fucking inability to complete the deed and please himself. His feet dug into the sand and he moved with drunken stumbles from behind the rocks, out into the beach. Chris was alone, standing at the water's edge and he needed to talk to someone. Chris was the most understanding of them all, so he'd sought refuge with him, the waves of nasaea coming faster and faster until Chris sat him down on a log and told him to dig his feet into the sand to steady himself, which he'd done willingly becasue he didn't want to toss his lunch up. Now she was leaving, going out of his life, and he hadn't even gotten to tell her how sorry he was, or how much he'd like to see her again. "Chris?" he choked. "What?" Chris' hand landed on his shoulder, comforting and warm. "Can you go get her? Don't let her leave. I need to throw up, then make some kind of peace with this because tommorrow when I'm hung over, I'll be regretting life." He looked up at his friend, usually the first one with a smart answer, or a quick joke, and he hoped his red rimmed eyes were getting across to him. Chris nodded. "I'm on it. Stay put." He stood up and headed toward the camp fire that Joey was starting as the sun was lowering in the sky. Lance pulled his feet from the coolness of the sand and pushed himself to his feet. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tettered off into the dunes and expelled it all, feeling the sickness wash away any guilt or regret he was struggling with. When he turned around, she was there, right in his face, her eyes heavy with concern, his sweatshirt covering her body. "Better?" she asked, touching his shoulder lightly. "I don't know," he admitted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I think I'll be better if I can make things up with you." She ran her fingers over the deep red marks she'd implanted on his back and sighed. Her dark hair blew around her face and she smiled at him. "Lance, I plan on making things very right with us on a regualar basis, no matter what Joey says." She kissed his neck lightly, not wanting to make him feel worse. "And when you're jerking off in the shower thinking back on our little session, you think hard about it, about how much I wanted you and what we're going to do next time we meet." Her eyes twinkled mischeviously. "Because I'm going to teach you things you've never done, take that innocent little face places it's only dreamed of." Her arms snaked around his waist. "You are the fucking sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on, and Joey or no Joey, you will be my boy toy." Lance's eyebrow cocked in utter surprise. He had no idea what to say, or do. "Okay," he agreed, resting his head on her shoulder. He felt like shit right now, and the thought of doing anything other than laying down made him sick. Maybe she would lie down with him, for a while, and whisper just exactly what a boy toy was. "You're pretty amazing," he grinned. "That's why Joey keeps me away," she responded, taking his hand and leading him back to the log. "I think there's some Sprite back in the cooler. Let's get you some to calm that stomach, okay?" Lance nodded and followed her back, forgetting Joey and Horton the Elephant, for now at least. |