The man two loungers over had been watching her since she sat down.
You had gone down to the bar just after four.
The room key was still on the side. The body stocking $name1 had worn for him that morning was still hanging off the chair. The bed was a wreck from it — sheet kicked down, pillow on the floor, the faint smell of the two of them baked into the late-afternoon heat. $name1 had come downstairs in the bikini afterward because the room felt too small and You, once he’d finished, had wanted a pint more than he wanted another round. $name1 had let him go. $name1 had taken a lounger by the deep end, glasses on, dark hair damp, the bikini top already fighting her. Every time $name1 reached for the glass a dark areola slipped the triangle. $name1 left it. $name1 wanted it left.
The man two loungers over had been watching $name1 since she sat down. Early thirties. On his own. No book. He came across with two drinks $name1 hadn’t asked for and sat on the edge of her sunbed like that was allowed. $name1 looked at him over her glasses, took the glass, and drank. $name1 didn’t ask his name. $name1 said,
“My room’s on the third floor. He’s in the bar.”
He followed $name1 to the lift. The corridor was quiet. A housekeeping trolley at the far end. $name1 opened the door on the unmade honeymoon bed and didn’t tidy a thing. The balcony was still cracked. Pool noise coming up. $name1 pushed the door to with her heel.
$name1 pulled the bikini down her thighs and left it at her ankle. $name1 lay back on the wrecked sheets, knees up, thighs open, tits bare where the top had already failed. He stood at the end of the bed looking at $name1 like he still didn’t believe the invitation. $name1 reached down and opened herself with two fingers so he didn’t have to guess.
He got on his knees on the mattress and put his mouth on $name1. He licked her open — broad, hungry strokes from her hole up to her clit — then sucked, then pushed two fingers into $name1 while he worked her with his tongue. $name1’s hand went into his hair. $name1’s hips lifted off the duvet. $name1 was already wet from the cupboard and from sitting in the sun thinking about being used again, and his fingers made a filthy sound in her. He curled them. $name1 came on his tongue with her glasses steamed and a broken sound she didn’t bother swallowing. $name1’s thighs shook either side of his head. He kept licking $name1 through it until she pushed at his shoulder.
He didn’t undress properly. Shorts down. He lined up between $name1’s open legs and pushed into her in one long, heavy thrust. $name1 was soaked and he sank in to the hilt. $name1’s mouth opened. $name1 felt the stretch of him, the heat of him, the way he bottomed out and stayed there a second just to feel $name1 clench. Then he started fucking $name1 in deep missionary, the wet slap of it filling the room, the bedframe tapping the wall in a rhythm the next room would have heard if anyone was in it.
$name1 took it with her thighs wide and her heels on his back. Every thrust shoved $name1 up the mattress toward the headboard. He hooked one of $name1’s knees higher and folded it toward $name1’s chest so he could get deeper, grinding when he bottomed out, his mouth on $name1’s tit, sucking at the areola that had been slipping the bikini all afternoon. $name1 came again — harder, clenching down on him, dark hair stuck to her neck, glasses crooked. He fucked $name1 through that one too. He didn’t slow down. He used $name1 like he had a clock on the bar downstairs. The wet sound of him driving into her got louder. $name1 was dripping down onto the sheet underneath, mixing with whatever was left from the morning.
He pulled out, dragged $name1 an inch down the bed, and pushed back in from a steeper angle, almost folding $name1 in half. $name1’s hand went to his chest. $name1 told him not to stop. He didn’t. He fucked $name1 in long, punishing strokes until $name1 came a third time, messier, a line of spit at the corner of $name1’s mouth, the balcony curtain lifting in the heat. When he got close he dropped his weight onto $name1 and finished inside her in short, greedy pumps, pulsing, filling $name1 on the same sheets You had had her on four hours earlier. $name1 felt every spurt. $name1 locked her legs around him and held him there so it stayed in, grinding up against him while he emptied.
He pulled out.
$name1 stayed on her back on the white sheets, bikini around one ankle, his cum already running out of $name1 in a thick line onto the duvet. $name1’s thighs were still open. $name1’s chest was rising hard. $name1 could feel the drip of him over her arse onto the cotton. The balcony curtain moved. The lift in the corridor dinged. $name1 didn’t close her legs.