Santa Monica

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Dan Estrin's unforgettable afternoon at the beach.
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She had been on his mind ever since that one day downtown where she had been buying illegal drugs for him and his friends. Daniel remembered vividly how she teased him, not quite flirting with him, just enough to keep him interested.

They had exchanged several biting, playful remarks and, before he knew what was happening, she leaned towards him slightly and accidentally brushed her hand against his arm. It was barely touching his skin, but he felt the sensation immediately. Erotic shivers went through his body. She continued chatting, seemingly unaware of the reaction she had caused. She left him a minute later. He held his arm, silently cursing her and at the same time wondering how he could possibly get her.

Thinking about the encounter even now, lying on his bed, he was getting very aroused. He felt the tension in his tight-fitting jeans, unconsciously stroking himself through the fabric. His hand came too close and he groaned out loud, sitting up. His parents were in the next room. He had to be more cautious than this. Standing, Dan exited to the bathroom, taking a magazine with him. He wouldn't need it, however.

He locked the bathroom door and unzipped his jeans in frenzy, almost tearing them off as he pulled down his boxers and started to jerk off. The relief was strong and immediate. He reached for the water faucet and turned it on all the way to cover the sound of his obvious pleasure. As he masturbated furiously with one hand, and used the other to play with his testicles, he closed his eyes and thought of her face. Of her. Walking towards him in that way only she could, oozing sex in the most subtle manner. In his mind, her silky lips parted and she dipped her head, gazing into his eyes. 'I want you,' she whispered, sticking her middle finger into her mouth and drawing it out lustily.

The image did the trick, and within thirty seconds, he was groaning loudly and exhaling as he came, the dripping semen all over his hands. Disgusted, he wiped it off with toilet paper and pulled up his boxers. He had to stop torturing himself this way.

"If I can't touch her soon, I'll die," he said to his reflection in the mirror. He knew it was a bit melodramatic, but at that moment, he'd never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted Angela Black. His best friend's younger sister. Could he really do this? It was more than pure lust. He liked her, was drawn to her overall sense of humor and compassion, but his desire for her was overwhelming, and it was affecting his body as well as his mind. All he could think of now was her, lying under him trembling, completely at his mercy.

******************************

That time had come. He returned swiftly to the present, where he lay next to her on a blanket spread across the sand. They had cut school for the day to drive out to Santa Monica. It was very early in their relationship together—the first time they'd been anywhere alone—and Angela didn't seem the least bit apprehensive. He'd change that. He rolled over to face her, brushing the hair back from her eyes.

"You look stunning in that bikini," he told her, grinning, looking down at her. She pulled away and sat up, smiling. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, for a change. She looked gorgeous.

"This day has been incredible." She sighed, watching the blazing yellow sun lowering in the sky. "Thanks for teaching me to surf. My brother always refused."

"He doesn't seem too receptive to the idea of us being together."

"But he's your friend, isn't he?"

"Maybe he just doesn't know me like you do." His face was six inches from hers. He lightly traced the bones on the back of her hand with his finger as he spoke.

"Maybe not." Her voice was a whisper, just seconds before they started to kiss. His hand came up and cradled her face, stroking her cheek, drawing her slowly towards him.

They moved together as if attracted by a giant magnet. Again, even as he anticipated it, he felt her hand dropping to his arm to rest lightly on his skin, causing a jolt to run down his spine. The hairs on his arm stiffened and rose, evocative of what was happening to him in other parts of his body. His erection grew and swelled inside the flimsy swimming trunks until he couldn't stand it anymore. Throwing aside all common sense, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back down into the sand, startling her. He crushed his mouth against hers in a vicious kiss, hurting her. Furious, she pushed him off her, bright red.

"What the hell are you doing?" she panted, brushing sand off her arms and legs. "Trying to rape me?"

"Oh, God, Angie, no! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I got carried away. You just looked so hot sitting there, and being around you, it's like—oh, hell." He covered his face, ashamed, hating himself. Then he felt her hand resting on his thigh, rubbing back and forth, before it slipped between his legs for a brief second. His mouth fell open in shock, and he bit back a loud groan as she brushed against the front of his swimming trunks. A pathetic whimper escaped his throat.

He steeled himself long enough to look at her. A half-smile crossed her lips, and she crawled across his lap to whisper in his ear, "I had to do it. There were people watching." He held his breath, swallowing hard as she rubbed him one more time. "Meet me in the women's restroom in fifteen minutes, or you can forget about seeing me ever again." Then, suddenly, she was gone. Her hand was gone. Dan exhaled noisily, his lungs burning. He couldn't believe what she could bring out in him.

He watched her walk slowly across the beach to the public rest area, wondering what he'd gotten himself into now.

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