Note: this is an erotic story, but for the sake of the website, I chose a part of the story without any explicit sexual content. If you want to read that, click the ‘Read More’ button at the bottom.

“I want you.”

He grinned at her from behind his shades, one hand on the tiller. “I want you too babe.”

“No, like,” she crept forward, slipping one hand inside his waistband. “I want you right now.”

“Oh…oh!” his smile widened and his posture straightened. He looked around, his smile turning to a scrunched up frown. “Um, we can’t exactly do it on the boat.”

“Why not?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

She could see his blue eyes behind his sunglasses when she grabbed him, his eyebrows knit together in concern, the crease in his forehead when he worried.

God, she loved this nerd.

“Uhhh…” he looked around at the other boaters, the people sitting on their front porches, the little children jumping off docks and swimming in the water, other teenagers playing beer pong and clambering onto floating mats to wrestle. “It’s not exactly the most private place here.”

“So?” she lowered her sunglasses and batted her eyelashes. “I don’t mind — let them all watch,” she said, fingering her bikini top, pulling it down just enough to expose her nipples.

“Jesus Christ!” he lunged forwards with his free hand, covering her up. “Put those things away!”

She laughed at his discomfort, leaning back and tossing her long hair, letting the blond waves shimmer in the sunlight.

He shook his head, frightened yet still turned on. “You really are a freak.”

She giggled with delight, knowing she had him in the palm of her hand. “Yeah, and you know you love it.”

Not for the first time, he wondered just what the fuck he’d gotten himself into here.

She raised her eyebrow, deciding to tease him. “So…do you not want to fuck me?”

“No no no no, I do, I do, I definitely do,” he speed-ran the sentence as she laughed at him. He smiled, slightly embarrassed. “I just need to find a spot.”

“Well, hurry up big boy, because I’m not getting any younger.” She stretched herself out across the center seat, her sleek body splashed by the spray, droplets that only magnified her tan, taut skin.

He blinked, refocusing his gaze, slipping his free hand inside his waistband to adjust himself — force of habit from elementary school — so it wasn’t too noticeable.

She smiled. She knew just what he was doing, just as she knew how futile the effort was — no matter how he placed it, she could see it. Slightly hunched over as he was, his toned, muscled body could very well contain rolls around his midsection.

Yet, as soon as he straightened up, she saw every inch of his glorious six-plus-pack that ended in the V formation, his broad shoulders, so strong and yet with such room to grow. His arms, much stronger than she’d given him credit for. His legs, massive, thick like tree trunks.

Some women didn’t like their men to have hair. She did. At least, she liked it on him. All over him. It was manly.

It fit him well, the dark locks that fell over the tops of his ears, the rough scruff at the back, the loose strands that always fell down to right above his deep-sea-blue eyes, no matter how much he pushed it back.

His poorly shaven stubble, the not-too thick wisps that covered his chest, arms, hands, feet, and legs, the line that ran down his abdomen, the odd solo strands around his nipples and shoulders, the relief she felt every day that his back seemed safe so far.

The way he always seemed to both have everything together and yet be totally lost. He was the smartest, stupidest person she knew. She knew he’d say the same about her, except he’d never call her stupid — not without a fight.

He hated fights. To his credit, he hated not resolving issues more.

She knew he’d be smarter than her in many ways, and already was. But she had many things he’d never have, areas of expertise he could never match.

She grinned. He loved her, respected her, and was in awe of her without treating her like fragile porcelain. They were a good match.

“I think I’ve got it,” he said a moment later as they puttered along.

She turned her head to him without getting up, her legs bent at the knee, toes pointed towards him. “Oh? Do tell.”

He pointed to a bend. “Around that corner there, the lake narrows out and gets real shallow. There’s an island there where this dude started building this, like, mansion. But he never finished it, so now it just sits there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to fuck me in some old dead guy’s abandoned pet project?”

“No no no, that’s gross, don’t put it like that.”


“Pet project. It just makes me think…” he shook his head. “Never mind. He’s not dead, you know?”

“He’s not?”


They rounded the corner. He reached down to the midpoint of the powerhead and found the groove. He rocked back and forth on the engine until it came up, waiting until he heard the mounting bracket click into place before he sat back down.

She didn’t question him. She knew he was just bringing up the trim to protect the propeller. The water was quite shallow here. You could see the bottom, rocks and weeds and fish and mud and all.

“So why didn’t he ever finish it then?”

“I don’t know, I think his wife like, got sick or died in a helicopter crash or some shit.”

“Woah. That’s so sad…and like, two very different things.”

He shrugged, raising his free palm to the sky. “I dunno. I wasn’t really listening.”

“You need to pay attention to your parents more.”

“Don’t you start,” he growled. She laughed.

“…yeah, so anyways, I think after she died he got like, really depressed and stopped working on it.”

“So sad…how’d he make his money?”

“I think he like, invented sticky notes or some shit.”

She stared at him with eyes wide and jaw slack, then laughed. “Get out — you just made that up.”

“I swear I did not!”

They both laughed.

The boat finally, mercifully puttered up to the shoddy remains of the dock. She stepped out first, as was custom, holding the top rope and using her ballerina feet to tip-toe around on the parts of wood that remained.

While she tied the front rope, he cut the motor, pulled it all the way up, and tied the back. He threw her a pair of shoes. They each put their running shoes on.

“The boat gonna be okay here?” she asked, tapping a section of the dock that crumbled away at her touch.

He shrugged. “Should be. There’s not much traffic here, so not much waves either.” He grinned. “Plus, if it floats away, it can’t go very far, and we can literally just walk after it.”

“Alright then,” she said with a smile, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”

He led the way as they hopped across the rotted and unfinished planks and ran into the woods.

“What room are you going to take me in first?” she teased as they ran.

He looked ahead to the house. It couldn’t have been too many more steps, but it just felt too far to him. “Fuck this,” he breathed, adrenaline pumping.

He stopped running and pulled her into him. They passionately kissed, each breath more desperate than the last. He undid her bikini top and bottoms. The leaf and detritus crunched underneath as they spun around.

She pulled away, gazing up at him with those big brown eyes. “You want me?”

He nodded. “Earn it first,” came his command.

She bit her lip and nodded, giving him one last kiss before squatting down, running her hand down his chest.