Devlin
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Devlin's StoryChapter 32 free porn video
Devlin and Krissi walked across the bridge, trailing the other people from the island. Krissi looked fantastic in her red floral print sundress. She'd teased her hair into a Dolly Parton mop, not the wigs the Nashville star had worn early in her career, but the somewhat subdued version that she'd been wearing lately.
"Much better than long, straight hair," Krissi said when Devlin commented on it. Straight hair has to be one of the curses of Nordic blondes." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was more like the Slavic blonde; my hair would be rich and curly, not straight like it is."
"There's always the hair dresser's."
"They never seem to get it right." Krissi plucked at one of her strands. "No, I'll just suffer with straight hair that drives the boys nuts."
Devlin giggled with her. "Yeah, sort of like mine."
"What is it about long hair?" Krissi asked. "I know guys like it, but I've found that guys who have long hair think it's just as much of a pain as any woman."
"You're asking the unanswerable." Devlin paused to take a deep breath. She knew the 'smell of the sea' was the wrack thrown up on the beach, but it was far better than the smells of Central Illinois: wet dirt, car exhaust, and fertilizer. "I'm going to hate going home in a few days."
"Me, too." Krissi resumed walking. "Let's agree to follow the Spring Break credo: live as if there's no tomorrow."
"If you say so," Devlin said. "Only let's show a little responsibility, too. I'm not going home with a little present that's due in 9 months, or something that will require medication."
"That's easy enough to do. We'll just make sure the only guys we sleep with are on this little island." She paused at the end of the bridge to watch a couple of guys; even in their shorts and shirts their bodies were worth looking at. "Despite the temptation," she added with a sigh. Devlin followed her friend's gaze. "Yeah, despite the temptation. And I have a feeling we're going to be mightily tempted."
Linda motioned everyone around her. "Now remember, gang, you don't talk about what happens on our island. As far as everyone knows, we're just family friendly nudists. And we don't talk about the resort to outsiders. You'll know them, they're the people with the orange name tags."
"Orange name tags?" Joan asked.
Linda opened her purse. "I have your name tags here. Everyone from our island will be wearing a green name tag shaped like a shamrock."
The name tag was one of the stick-on kind, the type that said 'Hi, My Name Is:'. She'd worn her blue sundress, and she put the name tag on her shoulder strap. Then, fortified by Krissi's smile, she followed her friend into the clubhouse.
The main room had already filled up. There were people gathered next to the windows and crowding the deck outside. The buffet table was filled with food. She helped herself to a chicken salad and a glass of punch. The guys were definitely worth watching, she found herself picking out a few of them and letting her fantasies run wild.
Someone started music playing from a stereo in the corner. One of the guys from their island, Greg Harris according to his name tag, walked up with a smile on his face. "Care to dance?"
Devlin smiled up at him, totally aware of the gleam of light off of his skin. "Love to," she said. The music was a slow swing, and she stepped into his arms already moving to the rhythm.
He was a good dancer, and she pressed herself against him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers and feeling the strength of his arms around her. His hair smelled slightly of salt and coconut oil. She rested her chin on his shoulder, moving with him. He was so solid, with strong shoulders, and hands that seemed gentle and strong at the same time.
The song ended too soon. She stepped only partially out of his arms, smiling coyly up at him. "You're a good dancer."
He smiled, his even teeth white in his tanned face. "My parents insisted I learn how to dance," he said. "I hated it at the time, but these last few years I'm glad they did." The music started again. "Another dance?"
"Love to," she murmured.
He wrapped her in his arms, engulfing her senses. The dance floor was crowded, but it felt like it was just the two of them floating across the dance floor in their own private world.
The dance ended all too soon, and Greg led her off the dance floor. Krissi walked past, arm in arm with Tim Davis.
"Another happy couple," Greg said. "This is your first time here, isn't it?"
"I take it you've come to these things before."
"I helped Jim and Linda set it all up about three years ago," he said.
"Are you married?" He didn't have a ring, but she thought most of the couples on their island were married.
"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "I've got a boyfriend, too, though. But that's all right, my wife has her girlfriend. We're sort of a mixed marriage. It might be a problem elsewhere, but it sort of works down here in the Conch Republic."
"You're gay?"
"Bi-sexual, actually," he said, "and so's my wife." He took a drink from the buffet table, and offered her one. "We moved down here because of the Tourism, we both work for a Cruise Ship line, and, believe me, if you keep it discrete, there are plenty of chances to score in that work. And we both did. And we both knew the other was really involved, we were open with each other. I'd bed some gal, she'd bed some guy, but it didn't mean much, it was just for fun. And one night we both arrived back at our apartment with someone in tow. One thing led to another, all four of us had a lot of fun. And then, well, things kind of went from there. I was really excited watching him with my wife, and she was getting really turned on watching that gal. We talked about it, and the next thing you know, we're experimenting."
"How do you like it?" Devlin asked. "Seeing guys, I mean."
"It's... different." He studied her face for a bit. "Someone said you go both ways."
"No, only with Krissi. I've tried it with other women, and it just turns me off. But with Krissi it's... well, it's not just the sex. Oh, the sex is mind-blowing. We can go to bed in the middle of the afternoon and be too tired to get up the next day--that sort of sex. But there's more than that between us."
"Sound like it." He sighed, watching two guys deep in conversation. "The problem with sex with a guy is who gets to be the aggressor. A guy is sort of expected to take charge and be the active one, but there are times when you'd just rather lie there and let someone else do their thing. With a woman it's mostly settled; if a woman wants to be the aggressor she lets you know right away, and every guy I know can pick up on that. But with another guy you have to spend some time figuring out who's doing what."
"Do you actually... put it... put it in?"
He shrugged. "It depends on the guy. I like blowing guys, jacking them off. What do you two do, you and Krissi?"
"Lot of kissing and touching," Devlin said. "Sometimes I wish she was a guy so she could put herself in me, and sometimes I wish I was a guy so I could be inside her."
"See, that's a realm guys never get into. A woman thinks of things like that."
"Yeah, I suppose."
A couple stepped off the dance floor. The woman looked at Greg, smiling. He rose, glancing back at Devlin. "I'll see you later this week. "Thanks for the dance."
She got up and got some more chicken salad. A few people were still dancing, but more were sitting at tables and talking quietly. More, though, were crowding onto the deck and staring to the west.
"Want to go check out the sunset?" a guy asked from behind her.
She turned around, running her eyes over his body: nice muscles, nice definition, flat tummy, good shoulders. "Sure," she said, smiling as she saw him checking her out. "What did you have in mind?"
His eyes stopped at her breasts for a moment before tracking to her face. "People in the Keys always toast the sunset."
"Toast the sunset? Why?"
"It's clear you aren't from around here."
"Illinois, actually. And sunsets there aren't something you toast."
"Here they are." He motioned toward the deck with his head. "Let's get a couple of drinks and you'll see what I mean. Sunsets in the Keys are always spectacular."
They joined the crowd on the deck. The sun was lost behind the clouds, lighting them with reds, yellows and purples. With all the shades of blue in the ocean it was the most colorful and dramatic sunsets Devlin could recall seeing. In some ways it was like a giant stained-glass window in the sky.
It was like a dance, over much too soon. Tiki torches flared around the deck, and people began to pair up and sit at the various tables. The guy put his hand on her elbow, guiding her to a quiet corner.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Another drink, maybe?"
"I'm fine," she said.
He sat opposite her, watching the crowd of people. "I'm Evan, by the way, Evan White."
"Devlin McCabe." She liked the way he smiled, and how it lit up his whole face.
"Are you down here for Spring Break?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"You don't have the generic tan most women who live in the Keys acquire." He glanced at his left arm, which was nearly as pale as hers. "Not that I spend that much time down here, any more."
"Oh?"
"I'm from here," he said, "well, over on Sugar Loaf, but I don't live here except in the off-season. In the off-season I live on Marathon."
"Off-season?"
"I'm a ball player, baseball player."
Something puzzled her. "Wait a minute. Isn't it baseball season or something?" She thought she'd seen something in the paper about Spring Training starting or something.
"I'm on what they call the Disabled List. I had to have my appendix out, and I'm recovering from it." He flexed his left shoulder and arm. "I should be back to working out in a couple more days. With any luck, I'll be playing a couple weeks after that."
"Who do you play for?"
"Nobody you've probably heard of," he said. "I'm a pitcher for the Charlotte Knights."
"You're right," she said, "but I don't follow sports too much."
"They're the Triple-A Minor League team for the Chicago White Sox."
"Them I've heard of," she said. "I live in Central Illinois, and they're just up the road. Maybe I could see you play some time."
"If I get called up to the Show."
"The Show?"
He smiled. "When you're in the Minors that's what you call the Majors Leagues. That's not real baseball, that's a big show." He frowned slightly. "Central Illinois?"
"I'm a student at Illinois State University."
"If I make it to the Show, give me a call and I'll leave you a ticket."
"It's a promise," she said. She didn't know that much about baseball. Danny liked it and watched it all of the time, and when she'd been in Chicago there'd been a lot of mention of both the Cubs and the White Sox in the paper. That reminded her of something she'd read.
"How fast can you throw a ball? I've heard they use radar or something to clock them."
"My fastball is considered Major League average; I've topped 92 miles per hour in games."
"My car doesn't go 92 miles per hour."
"There are guys who throw harder. Last year the Atlanta Braves had a pitcher who was clocked at 101 miles per hour." The music started again and he nodded at the dance floor. She nodded and gave him her hand. "He had an accuracy problem, but he could bring the heat."
"You'll have to explain what that means some time," she said as she stepped into his arms.
She'd danced with a few athletes in high school. The wrestler had been well-coordinated, as had one of the shorter basketball players, but the rest... she wasn't sure how well Evan would dance until the first step. Then she relaxed, flowing along with him.
They danced nearly every dance after that, talking about this and that, things she couldn't remember. She learned a few things: he was left-handed, he was 22, and his nickname was Uncle Charlie.
"Uncle Charlie?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. The dance was ending and people were heading home. She stopped, though. She knew there had to be a story behind his nickname, and she wanted to hear it. "Why Uncle Charlie?"
"Well, they shorten it to 'Uncle'," he said, chuckling. "A good curve ball, one that really snaps and drops, is called Uncle Charlie. A really good one, one that makes the batter's knees buckle, that's known as Lord Charles. I've got a pretty good curve ball, and one of my teammates stuck me with the name." He stopped, color rising briefly to his lean face. "That isn't the only reason, but that's the baseball one."
"Now you've got me interested." She looked at the way his eyes shifted and his cheeks got redder. "But I won't ask. It sounds like it's something personal."
"It is. Maybe someday I'll tell you."
"Perhaps. Are you staying here at the resort?"
He shook his head. "I have an apartment right next door, just down the street. But I knew about the dance, they put a flyer up on the bulletin board in the lobby. I almost didn't come." He glanced down, then back up. "Now I'm glad I did."
Devlin felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and covered it by dabbing at her lips with her napkin. "Well, this has been fun."
"Are you here for all of Spring Break?"
"I'm going home in 10 days."
"Sounds like we should maximize the time we have. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Hanging out, working on my tan..." She thought of some of the guys on the island. "Taking care of anything that comes up."
"I could give you a call tomorrow."
"I'd like that." She'd have to ask Linda how they handled outside calls. "I imagine you'll have to call the switchboard or something, or..."
He scribbled a number on a napkin. "Here's my number. We'll figure out something."
She pocketed it with a smile. "I'm sure we can."
She felt a little alone walking back across the bridge. The night had just flown by, and she'd enjoyed spending it with him. She smiled ruefully. Most of her experience with guys was at swinger's parties, so she was a little inexperienced at meeting a guy she didn't immediately have sex with. In a way it was refreshing.
She certainly wouldn't mind getting naked with Evan, but that wasn't something they could do until after this vacation was over. She made a mental note: she'd have to find if the Charlotte Knights played somewhere near Central Illinois. She could probably find that on the internet; Danny would know where to look.
The next morning she awoke to noises coming from the hot tub. Krissi wasn't there, though her bed looked slept in. Curious, Devlin threw on a pair of shorts and a halter and went exploring. Joan Macmillan and her brother Brian were sitting on the edge of the tub, talking. Joan was only wearing her bikini bottoms while Brian was wearing a tight pair of Speedos that left nothing to the imagination.
"Morning, Devlin," Joan said as Devlin settled on the bench next to the tub. "How are things?"
"Not bad. What's up?"
"Oh, nothing. We were just sitting here, talking."
"Comparing notes," Brian added.
"Notes?"
He shrugged. "Who we were with last night after we got back from the dance, and what they were like."
"What they were like?" When they were coming back from Emma's she and Krissi talked about the guys they'd been with, but Krissi was a girl. Doing the same thing with a guy... somehow that seemed against the rules or something.
"I ask him what he thinks of the guys," Joan said, "and he asks me what I think of the girls. It's kind of interesting. Guys have such a different idea of each other than we do."
"And we have different views of gals than you do," Brian said. "So it balances out." He swung his legs out of the water. "I think I'll go see if they've put breakfast out, yet."
Devlin watched him go, watching his muscles shift and move in his butt. She decided he was nicely put together.
"He looks pretty good, doesn't he?" Joan said as Brian disappeared down the path.
"Have you been... have you two... ?"
"Have we done it?" Joan asked. She reached down, running her fingertips through the water. "No, we haven't. We might, I don't know. We've talked about it, and there's been plenty of opportunity, but we haven't so far."
Devlin was struck by how much they looked alike. "You're twins, aren't you?"
Joan smiled and nodded, still staring at the water. "Which makes it both harder and easier for us than for any other brother and sister. He's... we're part of each other in a way I can't explain. We don't have to explain things to each other, well, except some man-woman things. But I can talk to him like I couldn't talk to our older brother or my younger sister."
"Does that mean you live together or something? And how did you end up here?"
"We have a two-bedroom apartment," Joan said. "And we're swingers, well, sort of. Most swingers are married..."
"I'm not," Devlin said."
"Then you're an exception. Anyway, we have friends, and we all get together for sex. So we've seen each other having sex with someone else." She shrugged. "That first time was kind of weird. I'd seen guys naked, and in gym I'd seen girls naked, but I'd never seen a girl doing it, you know? And I'd never seen my brother naked, well, not since we were like 3 or so. And here he was with a hard-on and he was pumping away in her. It was a little surreal."
"I suppose he said the same thing about seeing you with a guy," Devlin said.
Joan laughed. "I almost couldn't do it. We were at a friend's apartment and things had gotten pretty out of hand. But there he was, and I knew he was watching, well, I thought he was watching. But the guy I was with was already taking his clothes off, so I kind of felt pressured."
She shrugged. "After a bit I put it out of my mind and just settled down to enjoy my time with the guy. In the end it kind of worked out. We talked about it, that sort of halting way you talk about sex with a guy, you know." She giggled slightly. "His dick was bigger than I thought, and he told me my boobs were bigger than he'd realized. And I'd trimmed my bush down to just a strip, which took him by surprise. I didn't tell him that only a few months before I'd shaved it all off."
"I tried the smooth look," Devlin said. "I didn't particularly care for it, but I may try it again some day."
"I think it's much over-rated," Joan said. "The guys seem to like it, though, so if I try it again that's why I'll do it."
"Krissi swears by it, but she said she's never had much hair down there, so it wasn't any big deal for her."
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