Closing Argument

The Mediterranean sun beat down on the yacht’s polished deck, turning the air thick and salty. I leaned against the railing, heart hammering, as Elena stepped out of the salon in a white linen dress that clung to every curve I used to worship. Six years since we’d torn each other apart in law school, and the sight of her still made my cock twitch with raw need. Tension crackled between us like static before a storm.

“Marcus,” she said, voice low and teasing, pushing oversized sunglasses up into her dark waves. “Didn’t expect opposing counsel to show up on my client’s yacht. Come to beg for a settlement?”

I smirked, stepping closer so the breeze carried her citrus perfume straight into my lungs. “More like I’m here to remind you how I win cases, Elena. Or have you forgotten what my closing argument feels like?”

Her laugh was husky, eyes darkening. She glanced at the empty deck—her billionaire client was ashore for meetings—and bit her lower lip. “Still so arrogant. Some things never change.”

Heat surged through me. I closed the distance, sliding my hand along her waist, feeling the warm linen and the tremor beneath. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Instead she grabbed my tie, yanking me into a fierce kiss. Our mouths crashed, tongues sliding hot and urgent. I groaned against her lips, palming her ass and pulling her against the hard line of my cock straining in my tailored pants.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” she whispered, breath ragged, fingers already working my belt. “Missed how you fill me up.”

We didn’t make it below deck. I spun her toward the cushioned bench under the awning, hiking her dress to her hips. No panties. Of course. Her shaved pussy glistened in the sunlight, already slick. I ran two fingers along her slit, circling her swollen clit until her knees buckled.

“Marcus… please,” she gasped, arching back against me.

I freed my thick cock, veins pulsing, the head flushed dark and leaking. Gripping her hips, I thrust into her tight pussy in one smooth stroke. She cried out, walls clenching around me like velvet fire. The yacht rocked gently beneath us, matching the rhythm as I started fucking her deep and steady.

“God, you’re so wet for me already,” I growled against her ear, one hand sliding up to cup her full breast through the thin fabric, pinching the stiff nipple. “Still my favorite tight little cunt.”

“Yes… harder,” she moaned, pushing back to meet every thrust. Her voice trembled with each slap of skin. “Fuck me like you used to in the library stacks… remember?”

I did. I changed pace, slowing to shallow, teasing strokes that made her whimper and beg, then slamming in balls-deep so the wet sounds echoed over the water. Her juices coated my shaft, dripping down her thighs. I reached around, rubbing firm circles on her clit while I pounded her.

She came first, pussy spasming wildly, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. “Oh fuck… I’m coming on your cock!”

I didn’t stop. Pulling out, I flipped her onto her back on the wide bench, spreading her legs wide. The sight of her flushed face, dress bunched at her waist, tits heaving, nearly undid me. I drove back inside her soaked heat, this time slower, grinding deep so she felt every inch.

“Look at me,” I whispered, voice rough. Our eyes locked. “Tell me how much you love my dick stretching you.”

“I love it,” she panted, nails digging into my shoulders. “Love how you own this pussy… don’t stop, Marcus. Fill me.”

The confession sent me over. I thrust faster, the bench creaking, her moans turning into broken gasps. When I felt her clench again, pulsing through a second orgasm, I buried myself to the hilt and came hard. Thick ropes of cum flooded her spasming pussy, spilling out around my cock as I kept grinding through the aftershocks.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard, the sun warming our sweat-slick skin. I brushed damp hair from her forehead, pressing a softer kiss to her swollen lips.

“Best settlement I’ve had in years,” I murmured, smiling against her mouth.

Elena laughed breathlessly, tracing lazy circles on my back. “Don’t think this means I’m dropping the case, counselor. But… maybe we negotiate terms in the cabin next time. With fewer clothes.”

I chuckled, still buried inside her warmth. “Deal. Long as the closing argument stays this persuasive.”

She squeezed her inner muscles around me playfully, drawing a groan from us both. The yacht swayed peacefully, waves lapping at the hull while we whispered lazy promises, the old fire between us burning brighter than ever under the open sky.