Sunday Short Story: Dahlia Teases the Surfer
God he was built. His arms bulged as he carried that long board as if it were as light as a pancake. His dark, tanned skin accented his light green eyes. If their eyes connected, those jades would shoot a look that would make her pause where she stood. He'd smile to show off his deep dimples, the pools Dahlia wanted to surf in.
On this particular day, she got off work early, which means she got to the gym early, which means she came home early. Hot, sweaty, sore, Dahlia entered her apartment fully intending to peel the breathable, mesh leggings off her ass and the cut off Golds Gym tank. As soon as she rounded the corner of her room, with both hands crisscrossed to lift off the shirt before her elbows jammed stiff.
There he was in his kitchen, shirtless and doing the dishes. White foamy soap bubbles covered his forearms. One of his coveted surf boards was behind him that gave him a perfect frame of who he is. When he glanced up to look at her with those eyes, Dahlia swore she didn't know what came over her when she thought, why stop now?
Without letting a doubting thought cross her mind, she peeled the tank off slowly, enough to give him the coveted "under boob" look before the fabric grazed her nipples as she freed them. When the shirt came over her eyes, she quickly looked to see if he was still watching. Her heart fluttered, then to a thumping sto,p when she knew that indeed he was seeing her. Dahlia couldn't bail out now. She turned around to tease him. To let him stew on what he just saw. He got a view of the front, now it's time to show off the rear.
She hooked both thumbs into the elastic band hugging her waist and, inch-by-inch, slid her joggers past her hips before letting them rest right underneath her ass creating a shelf for her cheeks. Again, she quickly looked over her shoulder for confirmation. Yup! He's still rock solid and staring at her bitchin' ass that's resting nicely over her leggings. Feeling it, She carefully rolled her hips from one side to the other while progressively pulling down her leggings even further. First past her thighs, then over her knees, carefully bending as she does and making sure her lower back was completely arched.
When Dahlia's hands got down to her ankles, she was fully spread open for him. She had to see if he was still looking. She quickly checked from between her ankles and found she was too close to the floor. She couldn't even see his window, let alone him any longer. The blood rush to her brain, she got dizzy and fell over on her head with a crashing thud. Total face plant! Her ass was sticking straight up in the air with her pants around her ankles; head to the floor. The worst head down, ass up ever! Dahlia. Was. So. Embarrassed.
Crawling up to the window, Dahlia peaked over the ledge. Her worse fear came true. He saw her fall. He was laughing, holding his abs he was chuckling so hard, leaving some some soapy foam on his stomach before returning back to his dishes and shaking his head in joy. Dahlia wanted to slide out of her room, through her apartment, and into the sewer never to be seen again. Her heart raced in a panic. How could she even stand in her room again knowing he's right there? She needed to get out of her apartment. No shower, no resting on her bed to air dry. The best idea that popped in her head was to crawl to her door, grab the bikini that was hanging on the knob, put on the daisy-dukes she left on the couch, and go find a spot on the beach to work on her tan. That should give her enough time to get over what happened and pray to never have contact with this man ever again in her life. Dahlia did exactly that. She crawled to the bikini. Crawled to the daisy dukes. It wasn't until she got to the front door that she wondered why she was still crawling.
1:30pm on a weekday at the beach means Dahlia had the coast to herself. She laid on her watermelon towel as the sun laid on her. She wished her top wasn't on so she could free the twins for some fresh air and erase the tan lines. With her ear buds pumping in her favorite music and sunglasses on, she felt herself relaxed enough to fall asleep. The pink back of her eyelids cut quickly to black and her skin immediately cooled. Either God answered her prayer for a huge comet to hurl itself toward the earth, or something more terrifying is happening; someone is standing over her. Trying not to freak out, Dahlia slowly lifted her lids and saw it was even worse than she could possibly imagine.
Neighbor surfer dude was standing over Dahlia with his surfboard tucked under his arm. Fuck, even his silhouette is perfect. He said something she couldn't hear. Why do people do that? She's clearly had thingys in her ears that pump sound into them. What makes him think she can hear her own thoughts let alone him? She took out one of the earbuds to hear what Mr. Surfer Perfect had to say.
"I asked, did you have a nice trip?" he asked in a way that he knew it was corny.
She felt herself blush at the hard confirmation that he saw her accident. Oh my God, please turn this beach into quick sand and let me sink, she thought. He smiled and walked away toward the waves. It was Dahlia's opportunity to leave and him not to see her go. Is it possible I could move out before he got back? she mused.
She threw earbuds into her bag, and her shorts came out. She was about to put them on when Dahlia realized there was only her and him on the beach for miles. No one on the ridge line. No one in the bike lanes. Just Dahlia and him.
With his back turned from her, he was shirtless and waxing the top of his board. His dark, bulging muscles swelled and concave with every sweep of his wax. He ditched the wax to the side and headed for the eight foot waves. With no around, and him focusing on the surf, Dahlia came to the conclusion that she could finish what she started in her apartment.
His arms, back, and legs worked mutually as the beast of the ocean paddled away from her. She caress the back of her neck and pushed her chin up, imaging her own hand is his. Dahlia opened her eyes to see him out there bobbing up and down while straddling his board, wishing she was laying in front of him. She began to embrace her chest from outside her top as she imagined it was his hand reaching inside and pinches her nipple. She does the same to herself. Slowly pinching and twisting while her free hand ventures down to her pussy. When she brushed against her soaking tide pool, she became fully enveloped in her fantasy.
She was laying in front of him with legs spread on either side of the long board. His hand ran down Dahlia's stomach, massaging the outside of her hips the drive her wild before he venture down further. She's already as wet as the ocean under the board they share, but when he started gently petting her pussy, she got even more amped up. She moaned as she swirled her dripping cunt on the palm of his hand. He gave her a few pats on her clit that make her flinch in a good way. Then he loosened the tie to his board shorts.
His hard cock came springing out and hanging ten. With a mind of its own, it was happy to be free and hungry. The first thing it looked at was her pussy and pointed directly at it. The surfer practically ripped her thong when he moved it over to the side. With his unbelievable strength he lifted her off her ass and pulled Dahlia towards him, his gun glided straight into her tube without a hand to guide it. It crested within the back of her with the power of a tsunami. But he just held his length there. Held it inside her until she felt his thick cock grow even wider, spreading her apart.
"Who's pussy is this?" he asked.
She couldn't speak because the waves of juices that swelled within her. He wrapped his fingers around Dahlia's throat and squeezed to show his dominance.
Quietly, he repeated: "I asked, who's pussy is this?"
"Yours," She whispered.
"Who's?"
"Yours. Now fuck me like it is."
He smiled at her demand, and then his face became a ferocious storm. He thrusted inside her once and hard, making sure Dahlia was ready for the power he had in store. She let him know by letting out a little drop of a moan. As soon as she did that, he wasted no time pounding her on top of his surfboard. The sound of the vast ocean lipping up over the rim became one with her cries of passion. His hard phallus went deeper, deeper, deeper; exploring her depths and fathoms no man has ever dared. The grip on her throat got tighter, letting her know he had total control of her, even her soul.
A building wave lifted the both of them up, allowing him to hit a spot that made her vision go white in a split second. Another wave came, and again he hit the same spot. His hand got tighter on her throat to the point were she could only keep her head up and stretched. He fucked her with even more violence as he leaned over and sucked on her hard nipples. With his hand baring down on her throat, his tongue lashing her nipples, and his cock deep inside her, she anticipated the next wave. When it came, so did Dahlia.
She screamed in heavenly rapture and came so hard she thought she was going to cry. Her pussy contracted on his length and that when he let out a thunderous roar so loud, Poseidon feared him. His cum flooded inside her with such force that Dahlia immediately got drunk and wiped out.
When Dahlia came too, she found herself back on the beach and her delicate fingers holding together what pussy she had left. She scanned the water and quickly spot her surfer. He was riding a wave but he was holding his gaze was on her. With her bent legs spread apart and pearl exposed to him, he wiped out. His long board launched ten feet in the air like a polyurethane missile. The rolling wave spit him onto the shore, carrying him until he landed between her knees. His wet and sandy face first looked at Dahlia's pussy, then up to her eyes with those jades.
"Have a nice trip?" Dahlia asked smiling.
-Neon 
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