Kady Does It All: Summer Daze

He nods slowly. "You're not into being dominated," he says, thoughtfully. "You don't like submissive games."

I make a noncommittal sound and seesaw one hand in the air. How odd, to be having this conversation naked in a shower. At least he has an enormous hot water heater. I know this from experience. "Not the full play, no, I guess. I mean, I liked being held down, that one time. I don't know how I'd feel about being tied up. It's....situational, I guess. I mean, I've thought about it, which is why I can make guesses at all -- but no, neither side of power games ever really turned me on. I mean, I get that it does something for those people in it -- but not for me."

"We probably should have discussed this before," Neil says, soaping his chest. I help. Mostly by running my hands over his chest. It feels nice, and he smirks down at me. "Fetishes, turnons, things like that."

"Well, I've mostly been learning by doing," I tell him. "But you...well, there's stuff I don't think you'd want to do, and I wouldn't want you to do it just for me. If you know what I mean."

"I do," he agrees, turning me so he can lather my hair. "I would be willing, you know."

"Willing, maybe," I concede, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. Having someone else wash your hair is a wonderful feeling. "But not eager."

"One wonders what exactly you're looking to try," he says dryly.

"Pretty much everything," I sigh happily. I reach behind me, blindly, and find his cock, half hard, and wrap my hand around it, it begins to stiffen in my grasp almost immediately, and I smile, rubbing my thumb over the soft wet skin.

"I'm beginning to rethink my opinion of you being oversexed," Neil says, his tone light, but with an undercurrent in it of hunger, of need. Mmmm. Delicious.

"One more for the road," I tell him. I couldn't stay tonight; he'd known it. I had plans, a big beach party with several friends from high school who were celebrating their last gasps of freedom before beginning the fall semester. "What do you want?" My voice is almost a whisper. He is behind me, his cock pressed into the crevice between my cheeks, my hand still stroking it there, slowly, maddeningly.

"You," he whispers in my ear, and I shiver, shudder as he kisses my neck.

"Tell me how you want it," I murmur to him. "Do you want me to suck your cock, Neil? To wrap my lips around it, take it deep into my mouth, and when you come, do you want me to swallow it down? It tastes good, Neil. I love doing it." I do, too; it's not just dirty talk. But ohhhh, his groan is so delicious.

"Do you want my pussy?" I ask, and my voice hitches a little as his hands come around and cup my full, heavy breasts, running fingers over the nipples. "Do you want to fuck me hard against the wall, Neil? Do you want me to wrap my legs around you, pull your cock into me, and let you pour yourself into my cunt?" His fingers tighten, and his breath grows shallower. His cock is jerking in my grasp.

"Do you want my ass?" I whisper into his ear, raising one hand to thread through his hair as he bends his head over my shoulder. "Do you want to make me spray and squirt and scream like I did in your bed, like I did on your table?"

He shudders, and I laugh, low and throaty. God, this is so sexy. The hot water beating down on us, him pressed to my back, my hand trapped between us, and I start grinding my hips. There is power in this, and I love it.

"Or should I just keep going with my hand?" I ask him in a breathy whisper. "To stroke you, pressed against my soft ass, until you shudder and come, spray it all up my back? That would be sexy, Neil. But tell me what you want."

And I stop. Cold. Stop moving, stop stroking, stop teasing. He gets nothing more until he asks for it, and I feel him shudder, hear him groan as he realizes it.

"I thought you didn't like power games," he says in an unsteady voice.

"Situational," I remind him, and laugh as he groans again.

"I'm close," he says, his breath ragged and unsteady. "Fuck. Your mouth, Kady. I want your mouth."

And with that, I let him go, kneeling and turning smoothly, taking his cock to my throat in one, smooth motion. From there, it's less than a minute before Neil drops his head back and lets out a sound somewhere between a shout and a moan, and I greedily drink all he has to offer, swallowing and sucking him dry, not stopping when his climax has passed but allowing him to go soft in my mouth, milking him, cleaning him.

I stand up slowly, my eyes on him, and lean into him, kissing him. Neil doesn't mind his taste in my mouth. We step out of the shower and towel each other off, and dress, me in a light blue dress and him in a simple t-shirt and slacks, before I bring up anything else.

"Are you even looking for anyone else, Neil?" I finally ask, bluntly.

"It's...difficult, at my age," he answers evasively, and avoids my eyes. I put a finger on his chin and force him to look at me.

"The next time I come by," I tell him, "I want to hear you've got someone's number. I've come to care about you a lot, Neil Dodd, and I'll see you properly cared for. But I can't do it. More to the point, I won't do it. You've got a lot to offer some very lucky woman who will have to work very hard to deserve you. Get out there and start making offers."

He stares at me for a moment, and then laughs. "God, Kady. I don't think I've ever been told to find someone else by someone who'd just had sex with me."

"It's important to commemorate these firsts," I tell him sweetly, before kissing his lips and sweeping out the door.

So, I haven't mentioned anyone outside of my family and Neil yet, but rest assured, they are there, and they are coming to claim me shortly for a beach party. I was not hugely popular in school. Oh, I suppose I could have been; I was cheerful, personable, and pretty, maybe even beautiful, but I'd been told also that I was too....forceful. Whatever that meant. I'd had a few boyfriends, and most of them were actually pretty cool about my decision to hold onto my virginity until I graduated. One or two had put up a fuss. One vulgar fellow had been assaulted by a number of my ex boyfriends for attempting to push me too far on Homecoming night.

My exes were good boys.

So, not too popular, more in the medium invisible range, not really bullied or picked on, but not wildly admired either. Activities at home kept me out of extracurricular activities at school, not that anything there really interested me, but I did have a circle of fairly good friends. Among these was Angela.

Who pulls up beside me as I walk home from Neil's, driving a black Nissan Altima. Adopting a lewd expression, she waggles her finely shaped eyebrows at me through the lowered window of her car and asks in an exaggerated imitation of a deep, husky male voice, "Need a ride, little lady?"

"I don't know if you can afford me," I tell her loftily, tossing my wild red hair back over my shoulder.

Angela laughs and reaches over to pop the door for me. "Get in, Kady," she says. "Too hot for all that walking."

She wasn't kidding. Half a mile and I felt like I needed another shower. One with fewer distractions. It would be like my third today. I get into the car, pulling my skirt beneath me, actually managing to be somewhat ladylike, and roll the window back up as Angela turns on the AC.

Ah, blessed coolness. I turn the vent blasting cold air so that it's blowing directly at me, then lean forward and pull the neck of my dress down to blow the cold air on my boobs. Honestly, it gets really sweaty in there. Angela laughs again.

Most people would probably refer to Angela as "thick". She's shorter than me, maybe five five, but built sturdy, almost stocky. Her bust is incredible, straining the Dead Can Dance shirt she wears now, and I know for a fact the ass planted in the driver's seat of this car may be large but is exceedingly well-shaped. She thinks it's her best feature. She isn't skinny, with thick legs, strong arms, and wide hips, but you can't call her fat, either, because she gives the impression of fitness and strength. Which is accurate: Angela is a Ren Faire addict and is probably the best they have with a sword and shield. She tried to teach me, but I don't really have any talent at hitting people.

"So what's got you coming back from Dr. Dodd's place?" Angela asks, one eyebrow quirked over dark eyes. Everything about Angela is dark, except her personality; her skin is the deep rich brown that makes me think of chocolate, the good dark kind you bake with, and her hair is like ink, cut to her chin and made straight. "Everything okay?"

I have to laugh. "Everything's fine," I tell her. "And Neil is better than most," I add salaciously, leaning back in the seat with a satisfied smirk.

"You're not," she gasps in a scandalized tone. "Arcadia Glimmer Mist, that man is older enough to be your father!" Her tone may be scandalized, but it's marked with the undisguised glee of a gossip addict getting her fix.

"Actually," I tell her, holding up one finger, "he's OLDER than my father. By a couple years, I think. But yeah, I told you about how I was keeping my virginity until I graduated?"

She nods, shifting down as we pull into my parent's drive. "So him."

"God, he about kills me every time," I sigh happily. "That man knows more about sex.....I found out that's what his doctorate is. He's not a medical doctor. His doctorate is in sex therapy." I wave a hand, not sure there's actually a PhD for that. "Or whatever. That's what he did, before his wife died. We've got a good thing, I think. I'm trying to draw him out, make him start dating again."

Angela kills the car and stares at me. "Why?" she asks, confused, and I grin.

"Because he won't always have me," I tell her, opening the door, "and he's going to make some other woman really, really happy. I'm not ready to settle yet, and even if I were, it wouldn't be with a man his age. I look forward to growing old with someone, not watching them do it without me."

Angela gives a little wince at that as we step out of the car and step inside the house, where I promptly remove my shoes and gesture at her to do the same. I'm tempted to shuck my dress, too, but Angie's never been comfortable with my casual nudity. To that end, I shout, "Mom! Dad! Angie's here!" So that they know to dress.

"Kinda harsh," Angie replies, referring to my earlier comment about Neil's age. "I mean, I hope you don't put it that way to him."

I shrug. "Facts is facts, Ang," I say, taking her hand by a couple of fingers and tugging her toward the kitchen. "They gotta be faced at some point. You want something to drink?"

"Long as it ain't that green shit your mom --" Ang begins, then stops cold as we round the corner to see my mom, in a short pink silk robe, making a blender full of "that green shit" as we arrive. Angela winces. "Sorry, Mrs. Mist."

My mother gives Angela a raised eyebrow, and tries to look stern, but I know her well enough to see the smile she's holding back. "It's good for you," Mom tells Angela soberly. "You might like it, if you tried it."

"I'll, uhh, pass, thanks," Angela says. You wouldn't think a person with Angela's coloring could blush visibly, but she somehow manages it. Mom laughs and walks by, carrying the blender carafe, patting her cheek and kissing mine.

"She's really not scary," I tell Angela after my mom's left.

"Big is always scary," Angela mutters, and I let it pass.

"So this party," I say, reaching into the fridge and grabbing sodas for us both. "Big?"

Angela shrugs, taking the drink I offer and cracking it open. "Not so much. Maybe twenty, thirty folks all told. Might be as many as fifty. Bonfire on the beach, we'll have the place to ourselves. It's actually this little tiny island off shore, near Petit Bois. Not even on the maps. So we can have all the fun we want."

"Boats?" I ask.

"Couple people got 'em," Angela replies. "There'll be room enough."

There's a silent moment while we sip our drinks and watch each other. Angela likes to think she's adventurous, and I guess she was, by most standards, but I already knew I'd go much further than she would just by natural inclination, and if I were pushed....

"What?" she asks finally.

"Admiring your tits," I say, almost automatically, then snort and laugh at the look on her face. "No. I was just wondering....how likely is this party to get out of hand?"

She arches her eyebrow. "So you DON'T like my tits?"

I actually stop and think about it, assessing her, before finally answering, "Angela Mason, if I thought your gate swung that way, I might just bury myself in your tits and build myself a summer home in your cleavage."

A moment of dead silence, and then we're both laughing wildly. I wouldn't mind a tumble with Angela -- I'd only been with another woman once, and I was eager to repeat the experience -- but I really didn't think Angie was into women. After a few minutes of hilarity, we settle into giggles and snickers.

"College students," she says, finally. "Alcohol and probably pot. There's a good chance it'll get pretty wild. But it's hard to say. Sometimes these things peter out."

I cross my arms over my chest. "You don't think that'll happen." It isn't a question.

Angela shook her head. "Nah. I think it'll get kind of nuts. The kinda night you wish you could remember."

"And you're still going?" I ask, raising a coppery eyebrow over a green eye.

Angela spreads her hands. "What can I say," she says. "I been pretty straight-arrow all my life so far, Kades. I want to do something crazy. I want to have a chance to be wild. One night, and done. And you....hell. I expect you to go in face first, full speed and damn the torpedoes."

I grin at her. "Damn straight. Only way to live. Let me take a shower and get ready. You can even join me if you want. Mom built this enormous shower room, like big enough for the track team."

She slides off the counter, and as she's getting her balance, I step into her personal space, and she looks up at me, her eyes suddenly wide. Okay. So maybe I would be a little pushy. I don't kiss her, or even put my hands on her. I just stand close enough to her to smell her fragrance, rich and earthy and somehow spicy. Close enough to whisper.

"And I love your tits, Ang. Say the word sometime, and I'd be happy to show you." Her eyes are wide as I back off, giving her space. I do offer her my hand, though, and she takes it, slowly, hesitantly, and I pull her through the house, toward the big shower room.

At the door, she stops, making me almost lose my balance as I'm pulled to a halt by her resistance; she's heavier than me and I'm not sure I could budge her if I wanted to. I look back to her, and she's still staring at me. I stand and watch her, until she licks her lips.

"Are....are you serious?" she asks quietly.

I nod soberly.

"You'd...want to do that...with me?"

I nod again, green eyes on hers. Her gaze skitters away, then drifts back to my face. Angela's a tough cookie -- I've never seen her back down or show fear, but it was spoken about that she isn't as comfortable handling more...personal...matters. She'd only had a couple boyfriends and I didn't think she'd gone very far with them. I wasn't sure why, but I had an idea or three.

"Why?"

I had been kind of expecting the question from her tone, and earlier questions. I take both of her hands, hold her eyes. And I tell her the truth. "You're beautiful, Angela. Since I got with Neil, I've discovered a lot about myself -- I held myself back until I was ready, sexually, and now...now, God, I am READY," I say, tipping my head back with a throaty laugh. "You've been one of my closest friends for years. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. I'm not going to push you into anything. I just want you to know, that I think you're beautiful, and given the chance, I would show you how beautiful I think you are. Inside, and out."

She stares at me, incredulous, and then bursts into tears. Startled, I move to gather her in my arms, hugging her tight, tucking her head down so I could rest my cheek on her hair. I petted her hair and soothed her, saying meaningless little things, just doing what I could to comfort her. After a few minutes, she pulls back, looking up at me with wet, red eyes. "You, telling me I'm beautiful," she says, and there's a little bitter laugh in the back of her throat. "You're fucking gorgeous, and I'm the fat best friend."

Her words shock me. "You're not fat," I say automatically, and when she starts to sneer, I put my hand over her mouth and flatly glower at her, my eyebrows knitting together over my green eyes and the corners of my full lips drawing down, and she shuts up. "You're not fat," I repeat firmly, almost angrily. "Fat people have folds and rolls, and it isn't always their fault anyway. You take care of yourself. You eat healthy, you fight like a demon, you work like a dog. So you aren't skinny as a rail or pale as a ghost. You're strong. Tough. And I know for a fact that you get as many looks as I do." Now I give her a smile, as I think of something I know she'd appreciate. "Pretty sure Just thinks you're hot," I add, and am rewarded with a laugh from her. I bend forward and kiss her forehead. "There's thousands of body types. And they're all beautiful in their way. Most of beauty is confidence and bearing anyway.

Angela continues looking at me for a while, her eyes large and dark, and finally, she nods, and pulls me into a powerful hug. Seriously, I think I hear my ribs creak. When she lets me go, I have to take a moment to breathe again. "Thank you, Kady," she says. "I don't...I don't think I wanna go there, with you, at least not now. But thanks."

"Let me know if you change your mind," I tell her, and we are both laughing again as we reach the shower room. Angela's impressed, and I shuck off my dress without any self consciousness, unclasp my bra -- I'd like to go without, but it's uncomfortable if I go without support too long or too often -- and point to the line of red tiles at the raised edge. "That's as far as the water can go," I tell her. "You can stand there and not get wet, or you can strip off and join me."

Angela cops a lean against the wall and watches me, smiling. "It don't bother you at all. Being naked in front of people."

"I got nothing to hide," I say dismissively as I start up the shower. While I'm washing, she stays silent, but I note the smile on her face just keeps growing and growing, until finally, it gets a little creepy. "What?" I ask finally.

"Well," Angela says, examining her nails, "I think I thought of a way to keep this party from being boring. But it'd be all on you....and it's kinda out there. Even for you."

I kill the water and cross the room back to her, reaching for a towel. "Try me."

"Weeelll," she says, drawing the word out. "It's a beach party. Most of us will be in swimsuits anyway."

I'm beginning to get a sneaky suspicion where she's going with this, and I cock on coppery eyebrow, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. "Go on."

She grins, white teeth against her dark face, and says, "Dare you to go without."

I throw back my head and laugh. "Parade naked for a bunch of college boys? Please. I thought you were going to give me a challenge for a second there." The idea's kind of...exciting. Within the house and family, nudity is no big deal, but outside our walls, I know the rules are different. They would be staring at me. They wouldn't be able to take their eyes off me. And that sparks a heat low in my belly. I think Angela sees it too, because her grin gets wider. I take a deep breath. "Keep an eye on me," I tell her, more quietly. "Don't let me do anything...stupid."

She snorts. "Please. I intend to be as stupid as I can manage and still walk away. Throw in, Kady. You gonna do it or not?"