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Belly was possessed by a strange fire, a fire she had felt before. Jumping in the swimming pool didn't seem to quell the flame burning in her lower belly. How could she be thinking that? She’s supposed to be marrying Jere. well, if he doesn’t start having any second thoughts! But right now, all she can think about is “How is Conrad gonna react?”, “What is he gonna say when Jere asks him to be his co-best man?”, “That would be a little… insulting, wouldn't it?" Her cheeks burn at the thought of the word insulting, and a smirk creeps across her lips. She submerges her head and swims to the edge of the pool, trying in vain to drown her obscene desires.
“When is he gonna say it?” She meant to think it, but the words left her mouth in a breathless whisper as she rests her arms on the edge of the pool. She doesn’t even know what the “it” here means. What is she even expecting him to do, or say? Jere and Conrad are gonna be back soon, and she’s biting her lip at the fantasy of them fighting. Would Conrad even do that; punch Jere, or someone, because of her? She knows he wouldn’t. Her mind is racing. What’s gotten into her? It could be the stress of the wedding starting to build up in her mind. It could be her fight with her mother. She forces herself to think of anything, something sad, something important—“my wedding is coming up”, “I ran away from home yesterday”—but nothing she tries to focus on seems to be important enough to chase away the thought of him. Her wetness won a secret battle against the cool water of this late afternoon. She could feel her sensitive folds drenched, slippery and tenderly rubbing together with every tiny move. Her cunt decided to pleasure itself for her.
“What if he doesn’t even care? What if he…” She shakes the thought away from her mind, because the “he” here is not her fiancé and-
“HEY, how did it go?” she exclaims, a little too breathless, panicking, seeing Jere walking towards the pool.
[Jere] : “Bad.”
[Belly] : “What? What happened?” She’s proud of herself, because this time she could better control her breath and the tone of her voice. She gets out of the pool and stands up, taking a towel from Jeremiah’s offering hands.
[Jere] : “He said that… us getting married is a little – quote, unquote – ridiculous!”
[Belly] : “WHAT???” She herself is surprised by the high pitch in her voice, but she’s too angry to care. And Jere doesn’t seem to have noticed anything.
“WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT?”
She realizes this time that she really does need to lower her voice, before even CONRAD hears her mermaid calls from afar.
[Belly] : “Why does he even care so much? What is his problem?”
[Jere] : “I don’t know!”
“Fuck” she thinks. She was too focused on her tone rather than her choice of words and what they could imply. They left her throat way too fast, spoke a truth she needed so desperately to hide in this moment. On the other hand, she also so desperately needed to know every detail about the conversation. “How did he say it exactly? What do you think he meant by it? Did he say anything else?” She could never ask, although, she was brewing inside with anger, desire, frustration, and a little disappointment that all Conrad said was “ridiculous”. A part of her wished he would stand firmly against them. She knows it’s a little insane to hope for this, but every pump of blood in her veins screams the need for it.
She has to say something, anything that could distract her fiancé from overthinking the shameful implication of her question. And before she could even think properly about it, she starts saying whatever comes to her mind, deprecating Conrad for “thinking he’s a grown-up” and “going to Med school”.
Jere leaves to go shower, after promising her to do something fun later in the evening. She’s relieved. She can finally relax. It went pretty well, right? Jere didn’t notice anything. And there was nothing to even notice. It’s not like he can see how wet she was from all of this.
A strange, wild force inside her seemed to be guiding her to the kitchen, rather than just walking up the stairs and going to her room. She’s waiting. “I’m not waiting for Conrad. I’m NOT waiting for Conrad.” She tells herself. Her heart is racing, jumping in her chest. What if he doesn’t come back before Jere is done showering? She needs to confront him. She needs to tell him he had no right to call them “ridiculous”. Her pussy clenched at an aching absence when she thought of that word… “ridiculous”.
She grabbed her phone in a vain attempt to do something with her hands. And maybe convince herself she’s not standing there, heated, waiting for Conrad to come back and call her ridiculous to her face. She replied to her father’s message he sent that morning. “…I hope more than anything that you’ll be there to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.” She wrote that last part with a head nod. Yes, there WILL be a wedding. No matter what Laurel, Adam, Steven, or Conrad says.
[Sound of door opening]
She turns around and… he’s here; shirtless, bothered, still wet and flushed from the sea and the burning sun. She acts all serious as she faces him, furrowing her brows and holding both of her hands, instinctively covering her warm place.
[Conrad] : “Hey, where’s Jere?” pushing his chest arrogantly as he takes a few steps to approach her.
[Belly] : “In the shower. I heard you think we’re being ridiculous!”
She knows that he can tell what’s bothering her. She could feel her tits slightly jiggle a few times because of all the nervous fidgeting of her legs and hips. His hand firmly clenches the towel in his hand. She hates how he breaks away his gaze. She hates how soft he gets under her pressure. She wants him mad, grabbing her arms, shaking away her pretenses. Instead, he shakes his head, looking everywhere but at her, and says:
“Uh… Belly, that’s not… how I meant it…”
[Belly] : “Yeah, ok. Sure, Conrad.” She walks a few steps towards him provocatively, before walking away.
Suddenly, a part of her regrets it. She hopes for him to do something, although she knows Conrad too well. He would never grab her arm or even defend himself when confronted. He just takes her scolding and absorbs it, like he's some type of sponge or a black hole. It’s shameful for her to admit this, even to herself, but part of her hopes that seeing her in a bikini, all types of wet, would make a difference, but…
“What’s gotten into you, Belly?” says Conrad, to Belly’s surprise. She looks back at him, and he’s still standing there. He’s piercing her with his gaze, head low, hand holding the towel tightly.
Belly’s hands, like they’re possessed by an ancient force of nature, take off her towel. She pretends to pat the length of her hair with it as she sways her hips, walking nonchalantly towards him.
[Belly] : “WHAT’s gotten into me?” breathless, shaking her head. His gaze travels down and back up to meet her eyes, sending a heat wave through her bones.
[Conrad] : “This wedding is not happening, Belly. You know it.” he says with a deep voice, almost like a whisper.
[Belly] : “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Breathlessly, as she tilts her head to pat her hair on the other side. Her cheeks are beet red; she can tell by all the burning she feels under her skin. Her hands, legs, and even lips are shaky.
[Conrad] : Clenching his jaw before breaking his gaze and turning away, “Yeah, you do.”
And before he could walk away, Belly grabs his arm to force him back facing her:
“What’s that supposed to mean? Tell me!” Insistent, breathless, her chest rising shamelessly with every gasp for air.
[Conrad] : “Was it your idea or Jere’s, hm?” bitterly, as he gently frees his arm from her grasp.
[Belly] : “What, Getting married?”
[Conrad] : “No, not that.” Closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Asking me to be best man. Did you do it on purpose? To…” his eyes tearing up as he looks back into hers, “to humiliate me?” his voice breaking at the last word.
She studies his face in stupor. Her mouth opens, but she can’t think of what to say in the face of his genuine and obvious pain.
[Belly] : “You… really… are a coward!” pretending not to see the confusion on Conrad’s face, “You can’t even call me ridiculous to my face!” is all she can think of saying to try and derail the conversation back to pretending.
[Conrad] : “Yes, you’re being ridiculous, Belly. Is that what you wanna hear?” he says it with a natural confidence, voice low and steady.
“Is that what it’s gonna take for you to call off the wedding?” he says the last part slightly raising his voice, almost in a threatening tone, as he gets so close to her.
He’s towering her, and she felt so small, so intimidated. For Belly, this is how it always felt to be around Conrad. She could feel the heat emanating from his body. Her heart is racing a million times a second, and space is distorting around her.
Suddenly, she gasps as the towel hits the floor; she doesn’t even know how or when her hands released it. She’s dazed, out of her body, drunk on him and his high. In four years, Belly never felt more alive. Like willingly standing on the edge of a cliff, she could feel all of it; anger, sadness, fear, joy — Conrad makes her feel all of it. It’s like he’s playing a symphony to her soul with every word, move, or breath he takes. And God is he breathing fast and loud!
He’s muffling his grunts and clenching his jaw. He looks in shock, eyes wide open and fixed at the towel. He opens his mouth for a gasp of air, instinctively lolling his tongue. She can almost tell with absolute certainty what he’s thinking of, what kind of questions are running through his head: “Do I really have this much effect on her, still? Am I imagining it? Is it all in my head? Is she waiting for me to kiss her?”
[Belly] : “Conrad, I-” raising a shaking hand, hesitating to touch his face…
Conrad’s eyes lay on her hand, then gazes into her eyes as he moves his face to meet her warm palm. He exhales loudly, his eyes rolling back in his skull at her touch. His open mouth is aching for flesh as he caresses her tender hand with his heated sweaty cheek. Belly, not really aware of the moans leaving her throat, rests her other hand on his bare chest, gripping tightly on his flesh. Instinctively, almost bestially, Conrad lets out a loud “Oh God!” as he hugs her waist with his arm, pressing his risen manhood on her belly. His other hand grabs her wet hair to tilt her head back. Their open mouths exhale in synchronicity as Conrad moves her head up forcing her lips to brush his. Belly moans loudly, reaching with her tongue to search for his, as she pushes her body up on him, standing on her toes. Feeling how hard he is for her, her arms hug his shoulders, neck, and head, frantically and chaotically. His hands search and knead her back, hips and ass, as their tongues meet loudly; wet sounds, muffled grunts and moans send shivers through their bones. He moves down on her neck, showering her with moist kisses and gentle licks, his breath warm and tickling against her skin…
“Conrad!” she moans, which gets him to lower his body and push his hardness on her soaked bikini bottom, unintentionally moving the slippery fabric against her throbbing cunt. His hand travels slowly between her thighs, as he’s now staring at her face, after leaving a loud smacking kiss behind her ear. “Fuck, Belly!” he manages to whisper on her face, achingly, as he slowly rubs her cunt over the fabric, discovering all the wetness that came through it and crept out from the sides. “Baby, are you really this wet for me?” There was no point of answering that, the answer was all over his hand; warm and slippery. She rolls her eyes, her body shivering uncontrollably at his touch. “No. Don’t close your eyes! Look at me! Yeah just like that, good girl!” he commands with a deep, grunting voice, as she obeys.
It’s over, isn’t it? It hit her. It’s really over; her and Jere, the wedding, the pretense… It’s all over. Conrad stripped her truth naked, exposed it to her, and forced her to look at the ridiculousness of it all: her trying to get over him by fucking the closest thing to him — his brother — and her pretending she wasn’t torturing him on purpose; her pretending she didn’t say yes to Jere to get Conrad’s attention.
Fuck! Jere! Is he still in the shower?
[Belly] : “Conrad?” she manages to say with a trembling voice.
[Conrad] : “No don't close your eyes. Keep looking at me while I- ahh” he says as he slides his whole palm under her bikini to drown in her honey and tease her bare, shaved cunt. The tips of his finger tickle her around her butt-hole, and her clit is proudly erect and pulsing against the fate line of his hand. “Oh, Belly… It’s so warm for me, Belly…” he whines, rubbing her pussy a bit faster, resting his forehead on hers. His eyes, although sleepy and reddened, are piercing through hers with sea glass shimmery irises and dilated pupils.
[Belly] : “No, baby, stop… Jere could be here any second…” desperately holding on to him, expecting him to have the strength to pull away, because she doesn’t. Oh God knows, she doesn’t.
Conrad squeezes his eyes shut and freezes for a few seconds. Belly’s sweating and heated body is still trembling against his, panting, begging him to both stop and never part his hand from her wet folds. He can feel her insides pulsing and praying for his fingers to slip inside and fill the aching emptiness. It takes him the strength of ten soldiers to slide his hand out of her ridiculously drenched bikini bottom, which gets a slutty gasp out of her chest. Belly grabs his arm tightly, every cell in her body begging him to… she’s not even sure what, exactly; maybe beg him to push his long fingers where it’s warm and moist, or maybe beg him to fuck her on the kitchen counter, not caring if—or when—Jere finds them. Maybe she even wants to beg him to never leave again, to infinitely dance with her like this until they’re old and wrinkled…
A long strain of her arousal rests on her belly as Conrad raises his hand slowly. It’s embarrassing, really, how wet she was for him. She’s still grabbing that arm tightly with both of her hands when he gently licks his palm. Her hips push towards his, and she weeps, “Conrad, pleaaase!”, closing her eyes in shame and hiding her head in his neck. She can hear, as her eyes are still closed, the sound of his lips and tongue as he licks and sucks her intimate liquor off his hand. He cups her head from behind and whispers in her ear: “My car. Now!”
Conrad plants a gentle kiss on Belly’s forehead before he rushes outside. He didn’t even look at her. Is he gonna regret it?
“Oh fuck” whispers Belly to herself, looking around and frantically adjusting her hair and bikini bottom. She grabs the towel from the floor, wipes her wetness off of her belly with it and folds it… She doesn’t even know why. Her mind is racing, thinking of what to do next. But the blood rushing down to her lower abdomen is making it hard to be a smart girl right now. She grabs her phone and types a text to Jere:
[Belly – in text] : “I’m out to grab some muffins. See ya!”
“Shit, ok.” She decides to wrap the towel tightly around her whole body and rush outside. She’s not even sure if she’ll actually make it to Conrad’s car. Too dangerous, too crazy, too passionate—she didn’t care right now. Her body and legs move with a purpose; a purpose she’s known since she was ten.
Conrad gets in the driver’s seat, and he’s still in disbelief. Will she show up? Will she chicken out? Does this mean she and Jere are over? The thought of his brother brings him back to reality. A cold wave goes through his spine. As the horror of what he just did is squeezing his stomach in remorse and disgust, he hears Belly’s footsteps approaching the car. Her head is low, and the towel is wrapped around her whole body. She probably regrets it too, he can tell. Or is it his fear of losing her again talking? He’s not sure. She doesn’t look at him when she gets in. She doesn’t say a word. She’s biting her nails and just… breathing heavily, looking ahead.
He starts the engine, drives quietly but purposefully towards a spot they both know: close to the beach, but covered with trees that hug the space around them with a tranquil warmth and a peaceful feeling of privacy.
Conrad can’t even bear to study the (probable) look of remorse on her face, so he doesn’t. He stares at a tree trunk in front of him, silently, before saying:
“I know. You regret this. I understand.”
He waits for the answer, the sword she will push in his heart, as he tightly clenches his thighs. Instead, he hears sobbing. He looks at her, and she’s palming her face, crying painfully.
[Conrad] : “Belly, please,” resting his hand on her back, which she instantly pushes away.
[Belly] : “Don’t!” She looks… angry? He’s not sure what she’s angry at, exactly. “Don’t you… dare…” unable to finish her words through the sobs ripping her chest. “I can’t do this.” Shaking her head, looking away.
[Conrad] : “I’m sorry, Belly, I’ll do what you want! Tell me how to fix this!” His jaw clenches, as his eyes tear up and redden.
Belly rests her head back, closing her eyes. She remains silent for a bit before whispering:
“You regret this. Don’t you, Conrad?” sucking her lips.
[Conrad] : “No! No, I don’t. Not… exactly.” He, too, can’t believe the words that are leaving his mouth. Their eyes meet in stupor.
[Belly] : “But I thought-”
[Conrad] : “Hey, hey, hey…” gently caressing her hair, “No!” his face is lit with hope, joy, and something wild and young. “Do you? Do you regret it?” Now worried, eyes sparkling as he breathlessly waits for her answer.
Belly closes her eyes and grabs his hand, then slowly puts it on her warm cheek. She opens her mouth and starts to brush her lips on his fingers. Conrad gasps at her touch…
His hard dick throbs and presses against his swim shorts. But he doesn’t want to rush her. He needs to be sure that she wants this as much as he does.
[Conrad] : “If we… kiss… again there will be no coming back. Do you understand that?” he says gently, but firmly, despite the hurricane of emotions tearing up his whole being.
Belly opens her eyes, eyelids swollen and sleepy, “uhm hm!” she whispers, pouting her lips seductively. Conrad can tell how heated she still is for him by the way she presses her thighs together.
[Conrad] : “No,” breathlessly. “I need to know, Belly: Do you still love me, like I still love you?” He closes his eyes, fearful of what she could reply…
[Belly] : “Conrad…” her hand rests on his chest, starting to travel down to his stomach… “There's only you. There's only ever been you!”
Belly brings her right leg to tease his, caressing his thigh and his knee, getting a few moans out of him before she straddles him as he grabs her waist in disbelief. She sits right on his manhood, her hair messily tickling his face and chest.
“I’ve only ever been in love with you, Conrad.” Her hands plunge into his hair as she watches his eyes darken with desire. But she can tell he’s feeling bad. In the back of his mind, he is.
[Belly] : “I need you to know something.” She gently whispers against his face but her tone is serious. Conrad stares into her eyes, worried. “Jere… cheated on me.” His eyes widen and his mouth opens in stupor. His breathing accelerates, hot and fast against her face. She gladly watches the guilt leave his soul, making room for anger and something else. Something fierce, dark, powerful.
And just how she loves it, just how she remembers it, Conrad is about to unleash under her like a beast. His face is red with desire, joy, and a brewing resentment he kept buried inside him for four long years. She’s rocking her hips slowly on his, feeling his rock-solid cock twitch under her torturous teasing. Conrad lets out the loudest moan she has ever heard from him (or anyone). His eyes roll back in his head. He hugs her body so tightly, filling every little space between them. He grabs her hair and tilts her head back, breathing loudly with a mean face on hers:
“Say it!” grunting, swallowing, “SAY IT Belly!”
She quivers at the strength of his body as he rises towards her to push his hardness onto her ridiculously wet cunt.
[Conrad] : “Say it!” breathlessly this time.
[Belly] : “Conrad, please,” begging again, for everything.
[Conrad] : “Who do you think of when you fuck him?” Whispering it to ease the danger behind his words.
[Belly] : “Conrad!” weeping, desperately trying to reach for his tongue, but he tilts her head a little back again.
[Conrad] : “That’s who you think of? Conrad? Do you think of Conrad every time that cheating piece of shit is inside you?” his voice darkening in a grunt.
[Belly] : “Yes YES Conrad, I think of you, please CONRAD!” frantically rubbing her body on his, but he shows no mercy, as he restrains her movement with how tightly he’s still hugging her.
[Conrad] : “Good girl!” giving a quick but sloppy kiss to her lower lip, “Very good girl! Say it again, baby!”
[Belly] : “Conrad… I think about you… when he… fucks me… mmmh” her breathlessness and pleading voice gets a little chuckle out of him.
Conrad’s hands travel lower to meet her ass; first to gently tease her skin and body hair with the tips of his fingers, then to squeeze and slap her flesh loudly. This sends a heat wave through Belly’s body. She gasps, desperate for air, and opens her eyes to gaze at him. He’s smirking—arrogantly, dominantly—and his skin glistens with sweat, reddened on his cheeks, jaw, ears, and neck. He opens his mouth playfully, lolling his tongue, which she catches between her lips before he can pull it away. Their tongues clash in a messy, sloppy kiss. They both frantically suck, lick, and push their faces towards each other. Her arms hug his shoulders and travel back and forth from his hair to his jaw. She feels the towel slide away from her body with the doing of his hands, exposing her piercing nipples under her bikini top. Conrad reaches to her chest and kneads firmly, mercilessly. Belly moans in pleasure, tilting her head back. He pushes the fabric up and hungrily grabs one tit with an open mouth. He sucks and inhales her nipples, slurping on them loudly, filling her ears with a sweet sense of shame. She can feel him chuckle at every obscene sound she lets out.
Belly needs him inside, now, before her wetness spreads to the car seat. She’s slick, her pussy burning, her clit throbbing. A painful absence of him is pressing in her insides, squeezing at nothing but heat and arousal.
And as if he can tell that she cannot take any more teasing, he slides his swim shorts down to free his hungry shaft.
[Conrad] : “Look at what you’ve done,” whispering to her face, proudly pressing his hard length on her bare belly.
“Lift your hips for me, Belly” he gently and breathlessly commands. And when she does, shaking and blushing in anticipation, he pushes her bikini bottom to the side with a finger. Her wetness immediately finds his throbbing cock.
[Conrad] : “My God, Belly! FUCK!” he grunts, squeezing his eyes shut. She slides on his thick and warm shaft, covering the purple head of his dick with her warm honey.
[Conrad] : “Belly, I can’t hold back anymore, baby!” She shakily reaches to grab his cock, which feels bigger and thicker than she remembered, and pushes the heated head between the folds of her cunt.
Conrad opens his eyes wide, furrows his brows, and grabs her by the back of her neck as she slides down on him. “Shit” he whispers, grabbing her ass and raising his hips slowly. The length of his manhood throbs its way inside her, stretching her entrance and teasing all of her nerves.
“FUCK, Belly! you’re so tight!” He breathes in her hair as she collapses on his chest, giving in to him. “Good girl! Good girl!” he grunts in her ear as he pushes his length further inside, under her scandalous whines. She can feel him rock hard, pressing in her lower abdomen. She bites at the flesh of his shoulder, getting an amused chuckle out of him as he now controls all her senses. “I love you, Belly!” he whispers. She raises her head to look at him right in the eyes, resting her forehead on his. “Say it again!” she breathlessly whispers. “I love you, Belly! I love you!” he suddenly pushes another inch inside her, to which she gasps in shock! She thought he had pushed all of his cock completely, but now she’s feeling muscles she never thought existed clench and tighten around her man. And before she can process it all, Conrad is thrusting inside her, grabbing her hair, kissing and sucking on her neck, chest, and nipples, and whispering words her state of sexual intoxication can’t allow her to comprehend. The car is filled with heat, steam, and loud, lewd screams.
He releases her hair, and she buries her head in his neck, muffling her loud moans against his warm skin. “You’re so loud, Belly!” he grunts in her ear as he accelerates his loudly wet thrusting inside her, flesh clapping against flesh, “Oh fuck, Belly! You're so wet and tight for me! Belly! Belly!” his voice breaking every time her name leaves his throat.
[Belly]: “Con… Conrad… Stop saying – ah – my name I’ll … cum…” frantically breathing against his chuckles.
[Conrad] : “I love your slutty moans, Belly!” purposefully emphasizing her name as he keeps his thrusting pace fast and steady. “There's a good cunt! Yes! You're taking me so well, Belly! Good girl!”
And, suddenly, he stops! Showing no mercy to her feminine whining… “Please… Conrad…”
[Conrad] : “Jump on it! Come on, Belly!” grunting as she sways her hips on him. A smack on her ass reminds her to obey, and so she does her best to raise her hips and push herself back down on him,
“Yes, Belly, good girl! Again! Fuck your pussy, Belly!” grabbing her tits and squeezing them hard.
As her wetness drenches the base of his cock, she bravely rises again and pushes against him harder and faster this time,
“YESSS good girl, harder Belly, HARDER! HARDER!” She can tell he’s close; she knows him too well. He furrows his brows and hisses in delicious, sweet pain.
Their sweat mixes with wetness, salty sea water, and saliva. Their bodies melt in one loving, heated mess. Belly keeps eagerly pushing up and down on his dick, her flesh clapping loudly against his. Her breasts are bouncing proudly against his face, and he gladly sticks his tongue out a few times, licking her hard and erected nipples. Her orgasm is building, she’s ready to erupt because this bastard won’t stop moaning and grunting her name!
And when she thinks she finally controls the pace, he grabs her hips firmly and sends electric shocks through every cell of her body; He hits her warm and swollen insides fast, firm and steady. Her voice breaks loudly in pleasure, collapsing on his neck, and holding on to his shoulders: “Conrad I’m - I’m so close! So close!”
He drowns her in lewd and manly moans as he keeps thrusting, her pussy clenching around him hard and firm. A storm of pleasure erupts through her. He whines, freezing his movement, as she presses on his manhood in sweet agony, swaying her hips, her soul leaving her body for a good ten seconds.
And when the clenching of her pussy slows and her muscles start to relax, “Belly, baby, I need to pull out!” he cries, on the edge of his pleasure. She raises her exhausted body on him, and his cock slips outside of her freshly satisfied womanhood, dragging a strain of thick wetness from inside. Her hand frantically grabs his length and jerks it. “Fuck! YESSS! BELLY oh my G- YES YES YES!” Conrad throws his head back and erupts in loud moans, grabbing tightly on her thighs. His dick shoots thick and hot strains of genetic history, and it’s her turn to chuckle teasingly, as a few drops land on her face, tits, and belly; the rest lands like hot lava on his trembling flesh. She leans down to kiss him, tasting his familiar mouth and sweat, as he squirms under her, caressing her jaws and cheeks.
“I love you, Belly!”
“I love you too, Conrad!”