I Love To Gape

Her manager mentions the trip with Chris Diamond, and Lana pretends she didn’t hear the part about the villa having only one bed. She keeps her distance, laughs too loud at his jokes, and always finds a reason to slip back inside. Chris lets her pretend. The last afternoon the sun is low and the pool water warm. He steps behind her, oil on his hands, and starts like it’s a massage. His palms drag over the small of her back, slow, then lower until they rest heavy on her ass. She breathes through her teeth. He spreads her cheeks, thumbs pressing, testing. She doesn’t stop him. He drops to his knees, tongue dragging between them, then stands and sinks into her without another word. Her fingers curl around the edge of the lounger. He pulls out only to watch the gape he left, then drives back in harder. Later he sits on the chair, she drops to her knees in front of him, takes him down until her nose brushes his stomach, throat working. When he bends her again it’s face down, ass up. He grips both cheeks and spreads her open every time he pulls back, eyes on the stretch. Sweat runs down her spine. She comes first with a short broken sound, face pressed to the cushion. He follows, pulls free and watches the mess leak from her. They stay quiet. The weekend’s over.