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faegoddessog · 8 days

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Woman in Red CH 11/?

Chapter 11: Mogren Beach

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!), Angst, fellatio,

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

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@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 11: Mogren Beach

Their stopover in Iceland was fun. A driver took the five of them in a limo, possibly the only one on the island, to see the Bridge Between Continents. It was an actual foot bridge that spanned a fissure between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. After they went to the Blue Lagoon for about four hours, Aya treated them all to facials and in-water massages and bought them all lunch. They left all noodly and relaxed. When they climbed into the limo, Stacey plopped down next to Austin and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“A girls gotta nap after that, especially if she’s gotta fly the plane.” She closed her eyes and snuggled into his chest. Austin, having little choice in the matter, just shrugged and pulled her close. Charlie sat down on his other side and he offered his arm to her as well. She smiled at him and snuggled in too, though because of her height, she leaned back more on his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy too as the car started. Aya and Shaya talked in quiet tones across from them.

When they get to the plane, Stacey’s eyes pop open. She stretches, kisses a groggy Austin hard on the mouth, then literally bounds from the car to start preflight checks.

Aya giggles and gets out as Austin rubs his eyes, Charlie plants a kiss on his cheek and gets out too.

Shaya shakes their head. “That girl is like a damn fairy, I’ll tell you what. But maybe that’s what makes her such a good pilot,” they smile at Austin. “She likes you, that’s not always the case. She’s picky. I like you too, you are a good man. But I need to tell you, I love Aya like a sister, so don’t you fuck her up.”

“It is my deepest intent not to do so,” he says seriously. “I am” he hesitates, “well let’s say I’m coming to care for her too.”

“Mmm, hmmm, just be mindful, she’s more fragile than she wants to let on.” Shaya pats his knee kindly then follows their cohort to the plane.

“What was Shaya telling you?” Aya asks, taking his hand as he finally emerges from the vehicle. “Just how much they love you,” he smiles, “everyone seems to. Love you that is.” His eyes go soft as he looks at her.

She looks at him briefly, smiling, before quickly looking down. It only takes an instant for her inner self to recognize what those words and that gaze mean. She’s seen makeshift attempts before, but only once was it true. Only once before did it pierce her heart, and it ended up tearing her soul. And she was not about to repeat that shit, nope, nope, nope. She shoves those thoughts aside and looks back at him with a smile.

Aya’s seemingly bashful glance down seems uncharacteristic of her. She is shaking her head and he could see the pink rising in her face. Weird, her self confidence is usually all encompassing, why did the mention of people loving her make her curl inward. He is about to lift her chin when she looks at him with a huge fake smile. “Let’s go”, is all she says.

****************

The rest of the flight to Montenegro was uneventful. Unless you count that Stacey invited Austin into the cockpit. To be fair, he was genuinely interested, having learned to fly old B-17’s for his stint on Masters of the Air. He had a basic understanding of flight and asked relevant questions. It fucking turned her on.

“This is what autopilot was literally invented for, thank you Lawrence Sperry,” she flipped the switch and practically leapt onto him, straddling his lap as he sat in the jumpseat behind hers.

“Whoa, Stacey, we should check with Aya first, sweetheart, ” Austin said, turned on himself, but still feeling weird about all this freedom with sex.

“I told you she’d eat you alive,” said Aya from behind them. Her arms came around his neck. “You are not beholden to me Austin, fuck her if you’d like.” She leaned in to kiss his ear. ‘Good,’ she thinks, ‘let Stacey distract him.’ He grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest.

“Yes, fuck me if you’d like,” Stacey’s smile was sweet but her eyes are pure wolf. She was grinding on his hard cock as her pencil skirt rode high on her hips.

He did.

She didn’t even take her underwear off, just pulled them to the side after pulling him out of his joggers. She was fast and hard and furious, but quieter this time, not wanting to disturb Shaya in the bunks just behind the cockpit. Aya stayed and held his hand the whole time, kissing his neck, whispering how hot it was telling him to watch as her tight little slit swallowed him whole. He thrust up into her again and again. After she came, she got off him, his still hard cock bouncing.

“You got him from here, yeah Aya?” She said kissing her then settling back down to fly the plane.

“Indeed,” she pulled him off the seat as he tried to tuck himself back into his pants. He wasn’t sure he liked fucking Stacey, she kinda kept using him and leaving him hanging. Although right now it didn't matter, because Aya was coaxing him to the bedroom. Aya was kissing him. Aya was rubbing her pussy back and forth on his hand to show her how wet watching them had made her. Aya was laying back offering herself to his pleasure. Aya was gripping him, shaking with the force of her orgasm. Legs, arms and cunt wrapped around him as he spilled into her yet again. Aya was holding him to her breast and stroking his hair. Aya, all for Aya.

When they emerged, Charlie fed them. He read his script, making notes in the margins. Aya did some work on her laptop. Soon they were landing, parking and going through customs, all of them.

They piled into a big SUV, for about a half hour through the dark countryside, dotted with billboards that floated into the view of the headlights and winked out again. They went through a tunnel and shortly after, they entered what looked like a resort town and stopped at a fancy apartment building. After getting keycards from the front desk, they rode the elevator up.

“Ding” they stopped at the topmost floor.

“This is us” says Shaya, pressing her cheek to Aya, making kissing noises, then does the same to Austin.

Stacey pulled him down to her for a deep french kiss before turning on her heel and dragging her bag out into the hall. Charlie pressed her full lips to his ,”night night” she said sweetly and left.

Why they were doing this here and not in the hallway, Austin didn’t know or question. He had gotten quickly past wondering why this crew did all the things they did. Austin made to pick up his bag and follow them.

“Nope,” said Aya, pressing her keycard to the pad in the elevator. The doors closed and Austin looks at the panel of buttons then at her, confused. They were at the top, weren’t they?

She just pointed up as the elevator rose further and then opened onto a dark covered patio. She steps out, pressing her keycard to another pad on the wall.

“Sasha, turn on the lights and open the door please,” she says loudly.

The lights come on inside a wall of windows that he hadn’t even registered, the door to his left clicks open. The patio is covered in plants and potted trees, a sunning deck is off to the right. He can just make out patio furniture in the dark. The darkness of the ocean is all he can see beyond.

She beckons him in. The foyer has an inlaid mosaic on the floor, a coat closet to the left, a bedroom and bathroom directly across from the main door. A wide hallway leads to the right. It is lined with full bookshelves on its left and the glass windows looking out on the patio to the right. It opens into a beautiful modern kitchen with white cabinets and sleek lines. There is a huge black marble two level island with a sink in the middle with bar height seating across the back.

The room has a vaulted ceiling and extends into a dining space where a black topped table with white chairs sits. Past that is the living space with a huge curved white couch, a thick black rug covers most of the white stone floor and a big abstract black and white painting hangs on the wall. The floor to ceiling windows extend the whole wall to the right, broken only by a double sided gas fireplace that serviced the patio as well. The far wall across the end of the room was also nothing but windows and standing in the corner was a pearl white grand piano.

“Wow, this is lovely Aya. What made you decide to buy a place here?" he asks as he sets down his bag.

“Do you remember when you were in my work apartment that first night and I told you that I own a few buildings you couldn’t see from there?”

He just nods.

“Well, you can see one of them now,” she opens her arms.

“The whole building?” he is a little flabbergasted. He knew upscale and this building was it.

“Yup, the crew is in a three bedroom unit downstairs that I rent out as a VRBO, along with several others, but this is my Mediterranean Sanctuary, only I stay here.”

“Oh, well I’ll go see about getting a room then,” he teases, picking up his bag, “I suppose Charlie might be willing to share.”

“Ok, ok, me and my guests,” she rolls her eyes trying to cover the unnervingly possessive feeling that just sprouted from his words.

Austin chuckles as Aya goes to the fridge. It’s filled with her favorite fresh local things. She needed to give her housekeeper an extra bonus. She pours sparkling water from a big glass bottle into a stemless wine glass, offering one to Austin as well. They wander into the living space.

“Do you play?” he indicates the piano.

“I did as a kid, but my teacher kinda messed it up for me.” Aya says sitting on the wide bench and flipping the fallboard open.

“Oh no! What happened.” Austin sits next to her.

“Oh she just yelled a lot when I didn’t practice, which made stubborn little me want to practice less.” She plays a chord, the piano perfectly in tune. “ She told me I could be a concert pianist, that I was progressing so fast. But even if it could have been a passion for me, her attitude made me quit.” She plays a volley of notes that stream into Vivaldi’s Summer. She abruptly stops, looking at Austin and shrugging.

“That is horrible.” he says, laying his fingers on the keys, “I mean, she was, not your playing." He wraps his arms around her waist, planting a loving kiss on her forehead, "you just keep amazing me, at every turn.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you the rest,” she pulls away from him, her heart pressing against her chest. She doesn't want to feel this way, she tells herself.

There are double doors on the wall behind the dining table. It opens up into a huge bedroom dominated by a massive wooden four poster bed. Each corner has an ornately carved pillar. In contrast to the stark black and white of the other rooms, this room is decorated in complex reds and deep browns and light creams. There is a Moroccan flair to the decor with rich, lavish fabrics, carved wooden pieces and elaborate wall sconces. There is a rug so thick you could sink your toes completely into it, if you tried. There are two doors to the left, each ornamented above with subtle moorish arches. One to the big bathroom, the other to the walk-in closet. To the right was, shockingly, more windows with thick curtains tied to each side and billowing out in graceful curves. Situated in front of the glass is a massive clawfoot tub, big enough for two people, possibly three if one was Stacey-sized.

“This was supposed to be a three bedroom penthouse, but I insisted that they make this big master suite instead. I don’t need that many bedrooms," Aya explains as she shows him the bathroom.

“I feel like I’m on an old hollywood movie set, Casablanca or something,” he says with a smile, pulling her in close.

She supposes she could toss out that famous line, but just now she can't remember what it is. Austin is simply too close, smells too good, is too distracting. She stays in his embrace this time. Her heart pounding in her chest, swelling despite her wishes. The heart wants what the heart wants.

They decided they were tired enough to at least try to sleep, considering the local time was nearly 1:30 AM. She again offered him the spare bedroom, in case he wanted some space. Usually, she preferred it that way, needing her own space, but she was finding his company was easy. Filled with calm quiet spaces that, oddly, she didn’t feel the need to fill.

“Why would I pass up the opportunity to be fucked in my sleep?” he teases her. “No really, please fuck me in my sleep anytime you want,” he says seriously.

“Oh I don’t think I want to wait until you are asleep,” she puts her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss that ended up with Austin seeing just how luxurious the carpet really was and just how deep he could get his toes into the pile.

*******************

The next day, the rising sun pierces into the room and right into their faces between the forgotten curtains. They hunker down into the sheets, both mentally cursing.

When they do get up, the sun has crept across the room. They eat a quick breakfast and set out to see Budva and walk off some of the jet lag. They walk the old town and have lunch there. They don’t see the three others at all.

“They like to do their own thing.” she comments when he asks, “Sometimes Charlie likes to hang out by the marina. She has a thing for boats. Shaya is shopping or hiking, I'd bet my life on it. Stacey is likely sleeping in so she can haunt the bars later, she likes to troll for men.” Aya says, she thinks of all the times she has joined in on those one night stands. They don’t seem as appealing as they used to.

The walk to Mogren Beach is less than 15 minutes. There are a moderate amount of people out today. They sunbathe for a while, then he drags her out to the deeper water to play and swim in the crystal clear waters.

Aya tries to keep herself in check in this public place. The water dripping and sparkling off his bare chest, and his muscles rippling, makes it tough. But more than anything, seeing him laugh makes her yearn for him. She finds it unnerving and delicious all at the same time.

At one point, she leaps on him, trying to dunk him. Caught unawares he goes under. He turns, grabs her and erupts from the water, tossing her. Her arms flail and splash as she too, goes under. She comes up sputtering and laughing. He is right there, pulling her up into his arms. Salty seawater flavors his tongue as it sweeps against her bottom lip. Her legs wrap around his waist in the water, pressing herself needily against him. They both forget entirely where they are. They both are ready to pull aside their respective suit bottoms and fuck right there, despite the universal knowledge that water is a terrible lubricant.

“Aya,” he breathes his blue eyes shimmering like the surface of the water, “I- I -”

“Ohmigawd! are you like, Austin Butler?” A young woman, barley not a teenager, is on a float raft and paddling towards them.

Austin lets out a breath, turning toward the young fan with his practiced smile. Thankful for the fact that the water was deep enough to hide his hard-on.

He is practically the archetype of humility and politeness as she gushes about his performances and flirts with him openly. He asks her name and where she is from; kind to his core. He smiles and waves his little finger-tip wave towards a couple other girls who titter and refuse to approach. Their phones are out and pointed towards the three of them. The girl asks if he would pose for the cameras. He goes to put his arm around Aya, who is patiently waiting beside him. As the girl turns, she ‘accidentally’ falls off into the water in front of him triggering the oldest of male instincts. He puts out his arms to catch her. The girl thrashes in the water, screaming that she can’t swim, then is clinging to him with her arms around his neck.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s ok, you can touch here.” He grabs her wrist and peels her arms away from him, setting her on her feet.

Aya, who has been utterly ignored in this interaction, scoffs and tries not to roll her eyes as the girl nearly cries about how he saved her life.

“No, no it was nothing, you would've been fine, it was nice to meet you,” he dismisses her, with a nod of his head and turns back to Aya. The girl grabs her raft and starts back to her friends. Half way there she is saying loudly, “Did you see that, holy fuck I could totally feel it, it was so big. Oh my god!” As though Austin and Aya can’t hear.

“You wanna go?” Aya asks, seeing Austin’s cheeks turn red.

Austin takes a big breath and nods, “Yeah, I’m sorry, we’d better. That was….” he shakes his head in disbelief.

They make their way back to the beach. Austin’s mouth is a grim line as he watches the shoreline for cameras and protectively holds Aya’s hand. He is mentally kicking himself that he let his guard down. He’d gotten so comfortable, so focused on Aya, that he had forgotten himself, quite literally. How could he be so stupid.

He stomps up to their pile of things, pulling a towel out quickly. He tosses it around her shoulders before yanking one around himself. He knows that if he’s outed here, it’ll be a matter of minutes before lenses will be focused on them. “Whoa there sailor,” says Aya holding up a hand, “we aren’t in any hurry.” She lets the unneeded towel fall off her shoulders. It was like his fun self had been doused with cold water.

“I just want to protect you,” he says, fumbling in his haste to pull her towel back up.

“Austin,” she puts her hand on his cheek, “I’ve made it this far in life, I’m not worried about some teenage shenanigans.”

“It’s not that,” he looks hard into her eyes, trying to silently make up for his lack.

“What is it then,” her voice is curious.

“It’s you,” he looks at the blue sky, trying to figure out what he even means, “I just…”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” Aya’s eyes narrow at him.

“What!?” his eyes flick back to hers, brows stitched together, “Why would you even think…”. He blows out an exasperated breath. He’s more upset at the idea, than at her for thinking it. “Look, can we just get back to the apartment and talk about it in private,” he snaps.

“Sure,” she says, her lips pursed. Suddenly, she is very upset. Maybe it’s his snapping at her after being so sweet to that stupid girl. Or maybe it's just his assuming she needed his protection. Silently and quickly, they gather their things and leave. He tries to take her hand, but she steps out ahead of him, out of reach. Her mind starts hamster-wheeling stupid things, dredging up those old fucking tapes again: she isn’t pretty enough, young enough, thin enough. God dammit, she thought those were dead, buried, burned! She is more mad at herself for those thoughts than anything else. Seeing a crack form in the chained iron box, buried in layers of denial and old scars, locked in the dark cell in the depths of her mental dungeon, her fear tries to wiggle its way to the surface. ‘What else might he dredge from the catacombs?’ it says. She forcibly shoves it away, but not before tears begin to sting her eyes.

Austin swears softly under his breath. He follows her retreating form. He isn’t sure what just happened or why he was snapping at her. This kind of incident, being approached by strangers, was his current life. In truth, it was rarely that bad, but maybe she couldn’t handle his fame? He rejects the thought immediately. Ridiculous, she was far too outgoing and definitely too confident for that. Was she jealous of that girl, that child? How could she be? Literally yesterday she had encouraged him, then watched as he fucked someone else. She told him it turned her on. She had said he wasn’t beholden to her. Shaya had said she was more fragile than she wanted to let on. Maybe he should let that come to the surface before he told her just how much she had affected him, just how much he wanted to be ‘beholden’ to her.

The walk back was silent, at first her steps were rapid and angry as they walked the trail between the rock cliff and the sea. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get away from him. In reality, she was actually trying to outpace her own thoughts. By the time they got to the city park, three blocks from the building, she had slowed down as though she had outwalked her initial reactions. She wipes the tears she hadn’t acknowledged yet with the back of her hand, then holds it out behind her, toward Austin, hoping he’ll take it.

Her fast pace was surprising to him, but not hard to keep up with. He stayed a pace or two behind her, letting her lead, letting her fume. He wasn’t sure where he was going at any rate. After the first five minutes he decided there had to be more to her reaction than he realized, that he would just wait and let her lead this. He knew that he was actually mad at himself for putting them in a position like that, for forgetting where they were and what could happen.

‘It’s not like we were in real danger,’ he thinks to himself. ‘There was little I could do differently, besides ignore that girl.’ He starts to talk himself off the ledge of his anger.

He really tried to not let his fame stop him from doing things, albeit with differing levels of success. But he had been dealing with this in some capacity all his life, she had not. He could’ve at least warned her or explained instead of being tight and upset. Instead he was pretending that he was just a normal nobody the whole time he was with her. It was all he wanted when he was with her, to just be a guy. Maybe, he thought as they walked in silence, just maybe that girls’ interruption was a sign that he should slow down. Fuck, what he had nearly confessed to Aya in that moment! Her pace slowed so gradually that he didn't notice it until her hand reached for him. He closes the gap instantly, threading his fingers gently with hers, grateful for the peace offering. His fingers touch the wetness on the back of her hand. He is jolted with the realization that she had been crying.

When his hand laces into hers, a breath she didn't know she was holding escapes her lungs and her shoulders release. She keeps walking, leading him in through the palm trees, rubber plants and weeping figs to a spot she knows. She slows to a stop in the shade of a tall nettle tree, surrounded by hedges.

“I’m sorry Austin,” she says, to his surprise. “I know you are not embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“Oh my god no,” his hand nearly leaps to caress her cheek, “whatever would I have to be embarrassed about, Aya? You are so beautiful, smart, adventurous, confident and totally amazing.”

“Yeah well, clearly not all the time,” she leans into his hand, “I just let some old bullshit get the better of me, that’s all. Can you forgive me?” He tilts her face up and she finally looks at him, her eyes slightly red with tears.

“There is nothing to forgive, Aya, we all have old bullshit that gets the better of us sometimes.” His plush lips press softly and briefly onto hers. “And I’m sorry too.”

Her eyebrows crease in a frown. “For what?” He can’t possibly mean for those girls, he didn’t make them do that?

“For snapping at you, for letting my guard down,” he answers looking up, “for not paying attention to what was going on around us.”

“Thank you for the apology Austin” she says simply.

“I should’ve… I don’t know…” He looks back down to her, “been better prepared or something. They aren’t usually that…invasive.” He shakes his head, still beating himself up. “And there will be photos, Aya.”

“What on earth could you have done, you can’t control other people,” she says matter of factly. “Fuck the photos. I’ve had photos taken of me before. What are we going to do, hide forever? Never go out for dinner or get groceries or go to the movies or enjoy an outing? Live like hermits?”

Groceries, dinner, movies, we, forever: these words stick sharp in his mind. These words are couple words, partner words. His heart leaps as his mind begins flashing spontaneous scenes involving those words, a potential future that sparks so much joy in him. He gives his head a little shake to bring him back to the here and now.

“You are right, I know better, they can’t dictate our lives,” he sighs, 'hopefully our life, someday’ he thinks.

She hears the slight longing in the word ‘our’. Shit, what did she start? But she suppresses on.

“I am well aware of your status and that people will recognize you. I’m sure there are measures to be taken. Let me add to your list of my supposed qualities: I’m also stubborn. I refuse to let other people’s behavior dictate to me where I go and what I do. How do you think I got where I am?”

“Yes, of course. It's just, we were having such a good track record and I got lulled into a false sense of security. I’m so sorry, I just feel I should have-” she touches his lips with her finger.

“Should’ve, would’ve could’ve,” she says softly, ignoring the pet name, “it’s done now and there is nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well I was snappy at you,” he says against her finger, pleading into her eyes.

“And I forgive you.” her hand slides to his jaw, “So stop beating yourself up over nothing. Okay?”

“Okay,” his eyes soften into hers. In the space of one breath, he sees that the very thing that might have driven a wedge between them, instead has him falling deeper.

The look in his eyes says it all. She knows exactly what is happening and try as she might, she feels it too. She should run, says her protective half, run to her penthouse and lock it behind her. Hide, run, evade, anything to stop this descent. But she is rooted to the spot like the trusty trees around her, so she falls, kicking, clawing but oh so quietly.

The walk back was meandering, quiet and hand in hand. They made a stop at a restaurant on the way, getting take-out as neither of them felt like cooking and both were famished.

They ate an early dinner on the terrace, after taking separate but quick showers. Neither of them said much more other than to comment on the food or the view.

Austin stood and picked up the plates. He was standing at the sink when Aya came in a few minutes later, wondering where he had gone. He had a sink full of bubbles and was washing dishes by hand despite the fact that the dishwasher was standing at the ready. She didn’t question it, only hoped that this dish-washer might also be ready and willing.

She comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and lays her cheek on his back.

“Are you tired?” she asks. It’s early evening but jet lag and the events of the day might dictate an early night.

“Not really,” he says softly, rinsing a dish in the hot stream of water.

“Me neither,” she just wants to feel close to him after their pseudo argument. Though to be honest, just touching him makes her flame.

Cleaning up was one of those things that sometimes he just found himself doing. Especially when he felt emotional or his brain felt disorderly. It was at least something he could control. He is deep in his own zen and bubbles, when he feels her hands skim his waist. It’s the first touch she’s extended, other than hand holding, since their fight. If they could call it a fight, it was more one on one combat between themselves and their own demons that happened to catch the other in the crossfire.

The feel of her hands ignites him. Normally, he doesn’t like how manipulative ‘make up’ sex feels. He’s had girlfriends that used it against him. But this didn’t feel like that, they had actually talked and each had taken responsibility.

“Mmm, why do you have something in mind?” he says, scrubbing the last dish and leaning slightly into her. He just wants the perceived distance between them to be nil again.

“Maybe after you are done here, if you are willing…” she lets the sentence hang in the air, her fingertips lightly dancing on his hips bones.

“Willing to….” he knows, but he wants to hear her say it.

"I’d like to be with you, feel your skin next to mine,” she doesn’t want to push and won’t if he isn’t up for it yet. She realizes with a sense of shock that she would be down for just cuddling. She feels depleted from the events of the day and just wants to get her brain back to a sense of normalcy, something simple and familiar.

He had the feeling, she was placing the offer down in front of him gingerly. She wasn’t trying to seduce him into it, rather she was simply stating that she was willing if he was. It's hot, hotter than if she was trying to smooth things over with sex or goad him into intimacy.

“You would, huh?” his voice slips deep as he rinses the final dish and sets it in the rack to dry. “I’d like that, maybe out there,” he nods to the terrace. He turns in her arms after drying his hands and pulls her in close. He tilts her chin up with a gentle forefinger, smelling like bubbles, “I want your skin on mine too,” he says.

Then his mouth is on hers, gently pressing a long, soft kiss. It melts her, nearly buckling her knees. She had tried, really tried, not to care if he said no. This was her usual M.O. after all. But when his hands are bunching up the hem of her dress and peeling it off her, she realizes just how worried she was that he may not want her after their conflict.

“I know how much you like being naked outside.” His smile wipes away any doubt.

The sun was just starting to go down. Every inch of Aya’s skin was bathed in golden light. The sideways slant of the sun casting shadows into the valleys of Austin’s muscular and very naked torso. His shirt was left canoodling with her dress inside. The warm evening breeze pulled her hair away from her face as she let him lead her out to the terrace. He stops, turns and pulls her in for a deeper kiss. His fingers tangle in her hair as his tongue petitions for entrance, which Aya gladly gives, sinking herself into his strong arms. They kiss for a long time, slowly getting bolder with one another until the puffing breath from their nostrils eddy against one another’s cheeks. Little moans pass between their vibrating chests.

“You know what I would like, if you are ok with it?” he asks after finally pulling away from her, voice a little tentative and his teeth playing with his bottom lip, “I want your mouth on me, please.“ He glances at the tent of his cock in his comfy linen drawstring pants. He had foregone underwear after his shower. “And uh… I don’t need to be all aggressive this time, I just want you to do what you do.” He still has a hint of guilt, feeling like he got out of control that first time.

“Austin, look at you asking for a blowjob.” she smiles, teasing only a little. “Yes, oh yes please. And for the record, again, I like it when you take control.” She locks onto his eyes as she lowers herself down to sit on the big round outdoor couch, “I want you to enjoy it knowing that I like it too. Honest, it’s hotter for me when I know I’m driving you a little crazy.”

“Really?,” his voice is husky. The sight of her in front of him is reminiscent of a devotee. It is more arousing than he wants it to be. “You like it that much? You don’t mind me…” he put his hands on either side of her head.

“Really,” she says matter of factly, placing her palm on his hand and nuzzling in reassurance, “I love the feel of my mouth being full. And of this pretty cock gliding over my tongue.” Her hand grazes his cloth-covered tip, “ I like it when you cum all over me too. “

“You don’t feel like I’m using you?” he asks, still cautious.

“No, not at all. Austin, it actually turns me on. Besides I don’t think you’d ever make me feel used. Not even when your eyes go nearly black and I can tell all you want is to drive into me over and over, because all I want is to let you. But if you aren’t going to take control, at least tell me if it feels good, that you are liking what I’m doing. Just to pet my ego a little.”

Her cheeky smirk as her fingers catch the drawstring at his hips sends electricity down his spine. She pulls the waist around his now hard cock, letting the fabric fall around his feet.

“Yes Ma’am.” he replies, gently running his fingers over her flowing blonde hair. He can’t help but marvel at her beauty. Not Hollywood perfection fake beauty, but real lived-in gorgeousness that has seen things, done things and wants more of both. The way her bountiful tits glow in the last light of day and the shadows accentuate the dip of her waist. The faint stretch marks on her hips and breasts look like tiger stripes and make her all the more sexy for her unabashed acceptance of them.

As the glory of him is revealed in the last golden rays of the day, she can’t help but think just how Adonis-like he looks. Blood rushes, tingling, to her core. God, maybe it’s the light or the angle, but either way she marvels at just how pretty his cock really is up close. He was long, maybe one and a half of her hands palm to fingertips; fingertips that don’t quite reach all the way around to her thumb when she encircles him. The prominent ridge up the underside is crisscrossed with little blue veins in his light skin, drawing her eye up to his perfectly proportioned head. His head that leans slightly to the right, blushed a rose colored pink and was adorned with a glittering clear jewel that welled at his tiny hole. It was as if it was sculpted by Michelangelo, if he had been born now and unashamed of his love for cock.

“God, you turn me on so much,” he pets her head, “I don’t think I can see straight.”

“Well for this, seeing isn’t integral,” she counters before pushing her wetted lips over his cock. Her mouth is soft at first, the tip of her tongue licking lazy circles around his tip, spreading his pre-cum in her mouth. She inhales through her nose, his velvety tip is like heaven on her tongue. She nestles his head onto the roof of her mouth. The corona of him hooked gently against the back of her teeth as the middle of her tongue caresses his underside.

“Oh I disagree,” his voice husky with desire, “watching you is fundamental to the entire pro- ah-ah-cess.” His word breaks into pieces as the vacuum of her mouth slowly increases as does the depth of his cock down her tongue.

Eyes closed, she slowly glides her mouth and hand up and down him, twisting slightly at the end. Her tongue flicks double time, working his length. After a few minutes that are peppered with his ‘Oh Yes’s and ‘just like that’s, she pulls off him with a gentle pop. Her eyes flutter open to find his own staring down at her, brows furrowed slightly and his nostrils flaring in want, in need. They both breathe in shakily. Her eyes narrow and her lip curls. The air between them pressurized with sensuality.

“Fuck, Aya,” his legs shake slightly, “how do you do that?”

“Do what, Austin,” she places a gentle kiss on his tip while lazily running her fist up and down his cock.

“Make me want you so damn much with just a look?” His fingers thread through her hair, trying not to grasp hard and just plunge into her.

She chuckles in her chest and figuring the question was rhetorical, goes back to the delicious work of sucking his cock.

He stops her before he cums, pulling out of her mouth. In one seamless motion, he lays her back on the round couch and hovers over her. Just before she tries to open her legs to him, he places his knees on either side of her thighs, trapping them together. Leaning forward on one hand, he uses the other to guide his tip up and down her labia, nestling himself between her bare, wet lips. Pushing, nudging, his way into her. Once he seats his head into her entrance, he leans on both arms. He pushes slowly, eyes rolling back in his head and groaning.

She’s actually never been fucked like his before, closed missionary, with her legs together. The extra friction on her labia is good. She runs trembling fingers along his collarbone and down his sternum as he begins to move slowly in and out of her. His pecs flex as he leans on one arm to trail lines of desire over her breasts. She inhales as his fingers skim her nipples. She gazes up at his orange backlit form, it flits through her mind that he is the most beautiful when he is about to take her with fierce passion.

Austin’s knees slide back a couple inches and he leans forward on his arms, his head and upper torso anchor as his ass and abs contract and release in concert to thrust his now glistening shaft in and out of her. Her curves under him are quickly becoming his favorite sight. Little moans escape her lips as he lowers to his elbows and presses his forehead to hers. He struggles not to declare his love, not to chant ‘I love you, I love you, I love you” out loud, over and over. He keeps his eyes shut tight. He knows if he opens them, he’ll say it and he can sense that she is not ready to hear it.

There is just enough friction, enough stimulation to her clit to drive the rack and pinion of her orgasm tighter and tighter.

“Keep going,’ she whispers, her breath hot on his face and her pussy thrumming with his cock.

“Uh huh” is all he can grunt back. Her fingers ride the grooves of his ribs as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts. Nearly losing it into her, barely able to hold back.

Her abs contract and her legs push against the weight of his body, fingers dig into his ribs.

“Oh my god, Austin!” she freezes for a moment. The gears wind into that last tooth then release in an audible inhaled gasp just before her spine arches up and the wordless scream he has come to know so well escapes her.

Once he knows she is cumming, he lets go his hold, fucking into her with everything he has. He rides out her orgasm while simultaneously triggering his own, spilling into her with a gutural rumble that vibrates his chest.

‘This woman is a fucking dream,’ he thinks as she quivers under him.

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #emotional maturity

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