The Lake House Reunion

The screen door slapped shut behind me, and there she was—Mara, standing at the end of the dock like she’d never left. The lake was glassy, the sky bruised purple with dusk, and she was wearing that same faded red bikini, the one that used to drive me insane. She turned when she heard my boots on the wood planks.

“You came,” she said, and her voice was exactly the same—a little rough, a little teasing.

“You said you needed help fixing the place up.” I stopped a few feet away. “Didn’t say anything about a swimsuit.”

She laughed, that low, knowing sound. “Some things don’t need fixing.”

I watched her slide a strap off her shoulder, slow, deliberate, like she was showing me something I’d forgotten. I hadn’t forgotten anything. The way her skin tasted like salt and lake water. The way she begged when I fucked her against the railing of this very dock.

“Mara.”

“What?” She stepped closer, close enough I could smell her—sunscreen and sweat and something floral. “You’re not gonna tell me you’re over me, are you? Because I don’t believe you.”

I grabbed her hip, and she gasped, but it was a happy gasp, a *finally* gasp. “I’m not over anything,” I said. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re real or if I’m dreaming.”

She reached down and grabbed my cock through my jeans, squeezing. “Feel real to you?”

I pulled her into me, hard, my mouth on hers. She tasted like wine and want, and she moaned into my lips as I walked her backward until her ass hit the railing of the dock. My hands were everywhere—her tits, the wet skin of her stomach, the string of her bikini bottom. I tugged it, and it fell away.

“Jesus, you’re so wet already,” I said against her throat.

“I’ve been thinking about this for three years.” She fumbled with my belt, and I helped, shoving my jeans down just enough. Her fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking, and I had to bite down on her shoulder to keep from groaning too loud.

“I need to be inside you,” I said.

She spread her legs wider, hooking one around my waist. “Then fuck me. Don’t be gentle. I’m not fragile.”

I pushed into her, and we both stopped breathing. She was so tight, so hot, and she whimpered, “Oh god, yes, that’s it,” as I bottomed out. I held there for a second, letting her adjust, my forehead against hers.

“You feel even better than I remembered,” I said.

“Don’t talk. Just fuck me.”

I did. I fucked her hard against that railing, the wood groaning under us, the lake lapping at the posts below. She clung to my neck, her nails digging into my skin, and every time I pulled out and slammed back in, she gasped, “Yes, yes, don’t stop.” I could feel her getting closer, her inner walls fluttering around me.

“Look at me,” I said, and she did, her eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown. “Come for me, Mara. I want to feel it.”

She cried out, her whole body convulsing, and that was it—I came with her, buried deep, spilling inside her as she shuddered and whispered my name like a prayer.

We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, tangled together. Then she laughed, breathless, and pushed her wet hair off her face.

“The dock’s not the most comfortable spot,” she said.

“You complaining?”

“Not even close.” She kissed me, softer this time. “But the bedroom’s got a better view.”

I pulled out, and she winced, then grinned. I took her hand and led her up toward the house, the screen door slapping shut behind us again. Inside, the air was cool and smelled like pine and dust. She pulled me onto the bed, and I went willingly.

We undressed each other slowly this time, no rush, just the sound of fabric and her soft breathing. She traced the scar on my shoulder with her fingertips.

“I missed this,” she said. “I missed *you*.”

I kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, the space between her tits. “I missed every inch of you.”

She guided me down, and I went, my mouth finding her clit. She gasped and arched her back, her fingers threading through my hair. I licked her slowly, savoring the taste of her and me mixed together, and she moaned, “Oh, that’s—fuck, that’s so good.”

When she was trembling, I moved up and slid back inside her, slow and deep. She wrapped her legs around me, and we rocked together, unhurried, like we had all the time in the world. Her whispers were soft, broken: “I love how you feel,” and “Don’t stop, please,” and when she came again, she said my name like it was the only word she knew.

I followed right after, spilling into her with a groan, my face buried in her neck.

Afterward, we lay there, the lake dark through the window, the only sound our breathing, heavy and slow, slowly evening out. She curled into me, her head on my chest, and I traced lazy circles on her back.

“So,” she said, her voice drowsy. “Think you can fix the place up?”

I laughed, quiet. “I think I can manage.”

She was quiet for a long moment, and I thought she’d fallen asleep. Then she whispered, “Don’t leave this time.”

I held her tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We lay there, silent, listening to each other breathe.

CATEGORIES: [Spoiled girl, Just the Two of Us, Lake House, Sex in Water, Romantic Sex]