We all know he said he shouldn’t…but what if he had, anyway? 

Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage she was certain that everyone in the house could hear it. ‘Am I really going to go through with this?’ she thought, knowing she had already gone too far to not follow through, at least in her thoughts. Everyone was drifting away to various points on the grounds, but she knew that Oakley was trailing behind her, loping along with his long, easy stride in even steps despite having had a few drinks when they had been out at the taverns. She could smell his cigarette and knew that he wasn’t far back.

She turned around when she got to the corner of the house. Oakley had finished the cigarette and no doubt tossed the snubbed out butt in the sand along the walkway. Everything about him spoke of an easy relaxation: his quiet shuffling walk, his tousled sun-bleached curls, and his soft sky-blue shirt that looked cool as a sea breeze. She shivered just looking at him, despite the warm Italian air and lingering humidity.

“Oakley,” she called, and found that just saying his name was thrilling. There wasn’t more than a second to hesitate, not when he stopped and looked at her with his glittering blue eyes. He was so charming in his careless youth! She wanted him, wanted what he was, what he represented to her, and she threw all caution to the wind. “Come in, if you want…”

It sounded awful, not at all the sultry seduction she wanted it to be. She knew she had likely lost her mind, but she didn’t care. She felt so lost, so vulnerable, so…old. Oakley and his mates had graciously allowed her into the group of ‘youngs’, as they called each other to distinguish themselves from the older vacationers, as she went tagging along in some kind of second adolescence, a need to know that she was still young, attractive, fun. And Oakley himself—they had been flirting with each other almost from the start, and she found herself watching him with a hunger that she thought long gone. She hadn’t noticed him much in years past; he was a child then, a cousin of her best friend:  she had only seen him a few times in passing, romping around with Verena’s kids.  He had grown up so much at university, and she had come to see him for himself:  a confident, beautiful man, even if she was almost old enough to be his mother. The looks that he sometimes gave her, the way those stormy eyes roamed over her; she knew he was feeling something, too.

Oakley blinked at her, his head tilted back and his long neck catching the light from the patio. She could see a struggle behind his expression, an unacknowledged acceptance of internal conflict. His head fell forward, his face creasing into a boyish smile.  “I better not,” he answered, but he moved forward, gravel crunching beneath his feet as he reached her side. “Good night,” he said. Leaning across her, he gave her a quick, almost casual peck on her cheek, a flutter of moth wings on her flushed face.

So stupid, she felt so stupid, what was she expecting? He’ll just walk away, this is not what you need, and it’s a mistake, a huge mistake! Her face fell, knowing that she should just let him go, not cross this line. He was being gracious, giving her a way to retreat with some dignity. But she couldn’t just let it go. There was something there, she knew it, and she wanted it, maybe needed  it in a mad, selfish way. No, damn it, she wouldn’t just let him go! She reached up, drawing his face closer to hers. “Oakley, please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Come in. Please.”

“Anna…” He seemed to crumple, his hands reaching for her bare shoulders, tracing along her skin. He rested his head against hers, not pulling away, not leaving.

“Please.”  Her hands reached out, found his hips, and drew him closer to her. Don’t you dare walk away from me, Oakley!

He made a small noise, half a sigh and half a gasp.  Emboldened by his lack of resistance, she hooked her fingers through the belt loops of his trousers and towed him through the doorway, toward her room.

“Anna,” Oakley protested his voice quiet and serious. She stopped, and he gently removed her hands. Clasping one of them in his, he moved up beside her, angling her head back with his other hand. He looked at her for a moment in the shadows, then leaned down and kissed her, really kissed her, firmly on the lips.

She fed at his lips, her mouth pushing against his eagerly. He walked her backwards, and she gasped as she pressed against the wall. “Oakley…!”

“Shh, let’s not talk,” he murmured, capturing her mouth again. She nodded. His arms fell around her, holding her there, and she wanted him to close that small space between them, wanted to peel off their clothes and discard them right in the hallway, wanted to melt against his suntanned lithe body and act on what she had been teasing herself with since she had arrived.

She kissed him hard, and he licked over her lips. She reached through his arms and shoved under his shirt to grab at his back, those shoulders, clinging to him. He pushed back from the wall, grabbing her, and they danced in a stumbling, frantic waltz to her room.

Anna pulled the shirt up and he let go as she yanked it over and off.  Unhooking the long, dangling earrings from her ears, she tossed them in the direction of the nightstand, uncaring. She moved backward, eyes never leaving his, until she hit the bed and folded her legs to sit down. Oakley moved forward toward her, reaching behind her neck to untie the strap of her low cut dress, the loose ends falling down and exposing her breasts. She had a moment’s regret that she wasn’t wearing the black bra and panties she had bought in town on a whim, for her secret little fantasy. This wasn’t a fantasy, though, and clothes didn’t matter to either of them at that point.

Oakley fumbled with his belt, and Anna helped, sliding it out and dropping it on the floor. She tugged at his fly, unbuttoning and unzipping him impatiently. He groaned as she reached for the rising bulge still trapped in his boxers, and gave a sharp hiss as she freed him from the confines.

He was half erect, long and slender like his body, and she ran her fingers along the length of him with a strong fascination. He was so different from Alex, tall and lanky and so sensual…His erection grew stiffer under her touch, and Oakley muttered a strangled ‘fuck!’ between gritted teeth.

He flattened his palms against her breasts, cupping them and kneading them as he bent over her. He found her nipples and rubbed his thumbs across them, flicking them as they hardened from the attention. They worked each other in the dark, the sound of their breath growing more ragged as they became more aroused.

Abruptly Oakley pushed her hands away, stood back and, reaching under her arms, pulled her to her feet. She gave a startled yelp, but he was nuzzling her neck in a flash, his hands tugging at her dress, the halter folded down, as he slid it off her, her panties following right after. Lifting her legs, she knelt on the bed, capturing his swollen flesh between the two of them. “Oh, fuck, Anna!” he exclaimed.

Part of her wanted to bend back and pull him down on top of her right then, while another part of her wanted to explore that trembling hardness with her hands and her mouth. It was something she hadn’t really enjoyed doing with Alex, and rarely even considered it, but seeing Oakley like this, feeling him, made her want to try anything, everything, with him. She slid her legs back and rested on her stomach, ushering him closer by grabbing his hips and nuzzling against the crease of his thigh, in the nest of warm hair surrounding his marble-hard smoothness.

He made a questioning noise that gave way to a steady panting as she raised up on her elbows—he was so tall, even crouched over her like that!—and ran the flat of her tongue along the under ridge of his shaft.  Oakley groaned, throwing back his head, his arms dangling and hands clutching at the air at his sides. Encouraged, she licked all along his considerable length, rocking back and forth. She grasped him with one hand, to steady herself and because he was simply too long, and swirled the head around her lips, kissing and then gently sucking him between them, slowly working him into her mouth. His hands sought and found her hair, and he absently pet her, anchoring himself but not forcing her on him.

With each deep suck, she could feel him pulsating, his legs beginning to shake with the effort not to thrust forward or collapse beneath him. Her eyes were beginning to water, and she was aching herself, a warm thrumming in the core of her that she hadn’t felt in a while, and never like this.

‘Oh, shit, fuck, wait!” Oakley cried, and moved back. Anna let go, scrambling back on the bedspread. Oakley grabbed himself as he flopped out, still hard and straining.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” she asked worriedly.

“No, no,” Oakley assured her. He crouched lower, the hand not gripping his cock feeling along the floor. He snatched up his discarded trousers and rifled around in a pocket.  He grinned, brandishing a square foil packet aloft with a triumphant laugh.

She felt oddly touched by that gesture, although she realized that she hadn’t really even thought about it, and even in that moment wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter. It did matter, of course, but she was being reckless, reckless and stupid, and so glad that at least Oakley had some sense about him even if they were doing this foolish thing. “Do you want me to put it on you?” she asked.

“I can manage,” he replied, tearing it open with his teeth. “Just lie back; doesn’t take a minute.” He drew out the condom from the wrapper and quickly slipped it on with well-practiced ease. Holding on to keep it in place, he gestured at the bed and she nodded, realizing that she meant to go all the way with this, that she was fast reaching that moment from which she could not return.

Oakley seemed to sense her hesitation. “You okay with this? Are you ready for me?” he asked.

Oh, holy fuck, she thought. That he would think to ask! “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she answered, moving up on the bed and making room for him. “Ah…and you? You do want me, don’t you?” she asked in a small voice, not sure what she would do if he didn’t.

“Are you actually asking me if I want to fuck?” he growled as he moved onto the bed.

“I know you want to fuck, Oakley, I just want to know if you want to fuck me.”

“Yes, Anna, I do,” he said, crawling between her wide open legs. “I want to fuck you. Now.” He urged her to draw her legs up as he positioned himself against her. “Do you want me to say it again?” He stroked his protected head over her swollen slit, gliding up and down her entrance. She moaned, her hips jacking up toward him as he hit the hooded apex. “I want. To fuck..you!”  

“Then fuck me,” she cried softly, almost sobbing. “Do it; fuck me!”

He rocked forward, pushing himself in, inch by thick, long inch, almost too slow. She sat still, resisting the urge to move up and pull him deep inside her. He sank against her, cupping her arse and resting against the back of her thighs, motionless for a moment as he seated himself fully within her. Then he began to move.

It was like a dance, a joyous wild dance as he pounded into her with unrestrained zest. He was like a god, a vision, so hedonistic a creature and she watched him in the dimmest light as he moved inside of her. His rhythmic strokes were long and slow at first, and then rose to a furious pace, so hot and sharp that she thought the friction might ignite them in a lustful inferno.

She could feel the slap of his balls against her, and was astonished that he was so far in. Feeling all that hard stiffness sliding in and out of her, so deep and so long, made the part she had surrounding him twitch and shudder. “Oh, dear god, Oakley!” she squealed as she tightened around him, matching his frantic pace with her own.  His name became a chant in her mouth, the tide of her pleasure washing along her skin in rushing waves.

Oakley’s thrusts became more rapid. He grabbed one of her breasts, pinching her nipple and twisting it. Falling onto his elbows, still bucking and pounding against her, he captured first one nipple and then the other in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically, making soft grunting moans deep in his throat. Shifting his weight to one side, he shoved a hand down and held tight, his thumb ramming against the throbbing nub above her opening, urging her over the edge.

Gasping and biting back screams, she wrapped her legs and arms around him as she came, writhing as pleasure rippled through her entire body.  Rearing back, Oakley angled up, letting go of her breasts as he gasped a long chant of ‘fuckfuckfuckfuckohohohhhhFUCK!’ She felt him clench beneath them as his own orgasm grabbed him, punching him at the base of his spine and racing like lightning as he came. He arched above her in pure ecstasy, breathless, before collapsing on her, flushed and giggling softly.

Petting his back, Anna smiled, feeling suddenly drowsy. She was completely relaxed, all the tension she had been carrying around draining away as she cradled him against her, rocking gently back and forth. Sudden emotion welled up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her. “Thank you,” she whispered to him and then her eyes were wet and she was shaking again, for a different reason.

“Hey,” Oakley replied, his voice so quiet and raw in the slight breeze of the room. Gingerly he sat back, pulling out and rolled beside her, sitting up. He carefully took off the condom, tied it off, and hunted for his boxers. Shoving them on, he sat next to her, tracing the tracks of her tears with his gleaming eyes. “You all right? It was good, wasn’t it?”  

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and sniffling nose and pulled a sheet over herself. “It was amazing, Oakley. I’m fine, really, it’s just…” She waved a hand, at a loss for words. “No, I mean it. Thank you. For…this. For everything.”

He stared at her for a long moment, before nodding and kissing her forehead. He stood up, gathering his clothes. “I should go,” he remarked.

“What? No! Stay,” she urged.

“Well, I can’t sleep here,” he said reasonably, stepping into his trousers. He didn’t bother with putting on his shirt. He hunted though his pockets in search of a cigarette and a light.

“Oakley?”

“Hm?”

“This doesn’t change anything between us, does it?”

His search turned up empty. He shrugged. “I dunno; does it?”

In a way she wanted it to. She wanted it to be more than a fling, she wanted to be in love with Oakley and have him fall in love with her. The reality of what they had just done crashed down on her, with a painful sense of remorse. She was pathetic. “No, it doesn’t,” she said dully.

“Best if we keep this between us, though,” he remarked.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “I can keep a secret, Oakley. You’d be astonished at how much I can keep close.”

“Hm.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “It was amazing for me, too, Anna, so thanks for that. Just…that’s it, okay? Let’s leave it like this.”

He is so damn young, she thought. And I just committed adultery with him, used him because I’m selfish. Oh, lord, how would she be able to face Verena tomorrow, face any of them? She felt suddenly very alone, and was glad that Oakley wasn’t staying.  “Yeah, let’s.”

“Okay. Good night,” he said, walking out with a lazy wave. “See you tomorrow, then.” And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps on the gravel outside receding in the dark. She imagined him sitting by the pool, finding a cigarette and maybe another drink. Throwing back the sheet, she padded across the room to the bathroom to shower off.

Afterward Anna lay in bed, the sheet loose around her, staring at the ceiling like it was the night sky. She half hoped that if she stared long enough, she would see stars, but she fell asleep before she could make a wish.