Lea's Unintended Sunbathing Revelation
# A Deck of Cards The late afternoon sun slanted across the wood grain of the deck, painting Lea’s skin in warm gold. She was stretched out on a lounger, a paperback forgotten on her stomach, her blond hair a soft halo against the cushion.
Chapter 1
The late afternoon sun slanted across the wood grain of the deck, painting Lea’s skin in warm gold. She was stretched out on a lounger, a paperback forgotten on her stomach, her blond hair a soft halo against the cushion. Completely, blissfully naked. Dean had taken the photo an hour ago, chuckling about her ‘artistic sunbathing,’ and she’d shooed him back inside with a playful splash from her water glass.
She didn’t hear the back gate click open.
Riley stood frozen for a moment, one hand still on the latch. The image from Dean’s accidental text—a tantalizing, blurred glimpse of curve and shadow—hadn’t done her justice. Seeing her in full, unhurried repose, the gentle swell of her hips, the soft vulnerability of her bare skin in the dappled light… it hit him like a physical warmth. He was supposed to be here to see Dean, but his cousin was running late. A year of self-imposed celibacy after his divorce had made him feel rusty, almost invisible. Now, he felt very, very seen, and very much the intruder.
He cleared his throat softly.
Lea’s eyes flew open. For a second, there was only sheer, wide-eyed panic. Then, recognition. “Riley! Oh, my God.” She grabbed for her book, holding it awkwardly over her chest, her cheeks flushing a deep, charming pink. “Dean’s… he’s not back yet.”
“I can see that,” Riley said, his voice thankfully steady, a hint of his usual playful grin returning. He didn’t move from the gate, giving her space. “Sorry. The gate was open. I was just… following up on that photo.”
The blush deepened. So he *had* gotten it. The rumor about him, that old story from her friend, flashed unbidden in her mind—*massive, goes all night*—and she shoved it away, focusing on the immediate mortification. “He’s such an idiot,” she mumbled, but a strange, illicit thrill snaked through her embarrassment. He’d seen her. Not just seen her, but *looked*. And he wasn’t running away.
“Dean’t be mad at him,” Riley said, taking a careful step onto the deck. His gaze was appreciative but kind, tracing the line of her shoulder, the curve of her waist where the book didn’t reach. “It was a beautiful picture. Just… a little more pixelated than this.” He gestured vaguely toward her.
Lea let out a shaky laugh, the sound mixing with the chirp of evening birds. Her shyness was battling something newer, a curious boldness stoked by his obvious admiration. She’d only ever known Dean’s touch, Dean’s eyes on her. This was different. Electrifying. “You want a drink while you wait?” she asked, making no move to cover up further. “I’m, uh… a little under-dressed to play hostess properly.”
“I think you’re dressed perfectly for the setting,” Riley replied, his tone lighthearted but his eyes holding hers. He walked over to the patio table, pulling out a chair. The movement made his shirt stretch across his shoulders, hinting at the strength beneath. He was just a normal guy, her husband’s goofy cousin. But the air between them had shifted, charged with a decades-old fantasy and a single, shared secret.
He sat, leaning back. “So. How much trouble is my cousin in?”
Lea finally lowered the book, letting it rest in her lap. The evening breeze brushed over her skin, raising goosebumps. She felt exposed, deliciously so. “Depends,” she said, a playful, tentative smile touching her full lips. “On whether you tell him you got a private viewing.”
Riley’s smile widened, a spark of pure adventure in his eyes. “My lips are sealed,” he said. Then, after a beat, he added softly, “But my memory… that’s another story.”
Chapter 2
Lea stood up, letting the towel drop completely. She faced Riley, her shaved pussy glistening in the late sun. The boldness felt foreign, thrilling, like stepping onto a stage. She met his wide, stunned eyes.
“Dean said you take a long time to cum,” she whispered, the words a breathy secret shared with the rustling leaves. “Want to see if that’s true?”
She closed the small distance between them. Taking his wrist, she guided his hand between her warm thighs, pressing his palm firmly against her. Her full lips parted in anticipation, a soft gasp escaping as she felt the rough heat of his skin make contact.
Riley’s breath hitched. “Jesus, Lea.” His fingers trembled slightly against her, then stilled, his touch becoming deliberate. He cupped her, his thumb finding a slow, circling path through her wetness. “He talks too much.”
“He does,” she agreed, her head falling back as sensation began to pool low in her belly. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the solid muscle there. “But was he lying?”
“About which part?” Riley’s other hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his gaze dropping to where his fingers worked her. “The part about me, or the part where he sent that picture hoping I’d see exactly this?”
His words sent a new jolt through her. *Hoping?* The idea was dizzying. She rocked her hips minutely against his hand, seeking more pressure. “Show me the part about you,” she murmured, her voice husky.
Riley’s smile was all wicked promise. He shifted, his fingers sliding deeper, teasing her entrance. “It’s not a quick thing,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “It’s a… whole evening. A lot of touching. A lot of tasting.” He emphasized his point by slipping two fingers inside her, his eyes locked on hers, watching her react.
Lea moaned, her knees going weak. The stretch was different, more filling than she was used to. “Oh, God…”
“Like that?” he asked, his thumb resuming its insistent circles on her clit. “Dean’t get me wrong, I want to. More than you know. But I’d rather spend an hour right here, just like this, feeling you get tighter around my hand, listening to you breathe, than rush to the finish line.”
He began a gentle, rhythmic thrust with his fingers, each stroke stoking a fire that was spreading through her limbs. The intimacy of his words, the possessive curl of his fingers inside her, the illicit sunshine on their skin—it was overwhelming. Her climax was already a distant, gathering storm on the horizon, but he was right. He was in no hurry to call it down. He was building the pressure, savoring the journey, and taking her along for every slow, breathtaking step.
Chapter 3
Lea’s heart hammered against her ribs. The feel of his fingers inside her, the slow, deep drag of them, was unlocking a boldness she didn’t know she possessed. Her shyness didn’t vanish; it transformed, becoming a secret fuel for her curiosity.
Her hands slid from his shoulders, one tracing a path down the solid plane of his chest. Her other hand drifted lower, over the worn denim of his jeans. She could feel the hard ridge of him there, straining against the fabric. Her breath hitched.
“Dean talks too much,” she repeated, her voice a husky murmur near his ear. “But he said something… specific.” Her fingers toyed with the button of his jeans, her touch light and questioning. “He says you’re… impressive.”
Riley stilled his hand within her, his gaze locking onto hers. A slow, knowing smile played on his lips. “Does he now?”
“Mmhmm.” Her own smile was tentative, playful. With a deliberate slowness, she guided the hand he had between her legs upward, bringing his wet fingers to her lips. She tasted herself on his skin, her eyes never leaving his, before guiding that same hand back down to the button of his jeans. The message was clear. “I want to see for myself.”
His laugh was a low rumble. “You’re full of surprises, Lea.”
With her encouragement, he undid his jeans. She helped him push them down just enough, her movements shy but determined. And then she saw him.
Her breath caught in a soft, audible gasp. The rumor was not a rumor. He was thick, heavy, and beautifully shaped, the head a pronounced, smooth crown. A year of absence had done nothing to diminish the reality of him. Her shyness surged back for a second, a flutter of nervousness, before melting once more into pure, awestruck curiosity.
“Oh,” she breathed, the word full of wonder.
“See something you like?” Riley asked, his tone a mix of amusement and raw desire.
Instead of answering, Lea wrapped her fingers around him. Her grip was tentative at first, then firmer, learning the weight and heat of him. She gave an experimental stroke, her thumb brushing over the slickness already beading at the tip. A low groan escaped him, and the sound went straight to her core, making her clench around the memory of his fingers.
“It’s… a lot to take in,” she whispered, her playful curiosity overriding any final vestige of hesitation. She leaned in, her lips brushing his shoulder. “Dean wasn’t lying. About any of it.” She began to move her hand in a slow, exploratory rhythm, watching his face for every reaction, learning what made his breath catch and his eyes flutter closed. The power of it, of holding this secret knowledge in her hand, was more intoxicating than the sun.
Chapter 4
Riley’s head moved lower, his mouth replacing his hand between her trembling thighs. His first warm, slow lick drew a ragged gasp from her that echoed in the quiet yard. He didn’t just kiss her there; he explored with a patient, curious hunger that made her feel like a map he was memorizing.
“Oh… Riley,” she sighed, her hands tangling in his thick, brown hair.
“Mmm?” he hummed against her, the vibration shooting straight to her core. His tongue was flat and broad, painting wet, languid stripes up and down her sensitive flesh before zeroing in with devastating precision.
“Just… God,” she breathed, her hips lifting off the lounger to meet his mouth. Shyness was a distant memory, burned away by the focused heat of his attention. Every flick, every gentle suck, was a question he already knew the answer to. He was building something inside her, a pressure so profound and unfamiliar it stole her breath.
He paused, lifting his head just enough to speak, his lips glistening. “You taste incredible, Lea. Like summer.”
The raw compliment, so blunt and appreciative, made her flush with a new kind of heat. “Dean’t stop talking,” she whispered, her voice trembling as much as her legs. “Please.”
He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “My pleasure.” Then he dove back in with renewed focus, his tongue now circling that one aching spot with a rhythm that was both relentless and tender. One of his hands slid beneath her, fingers splaying across the small of her back to hold her steady, while the other traced teasing patterns on her inner thigh.
The sensation began to coil, tighter and hotter, deep in her belly. It felt different than anything before—less a peak to climb, more a dam about to break. A low, continuous moan spilled from her lips. Her fingers clenched in his hair, not to guide him, but to anchor herself to the planet.
“I… I feel so…” she panted, unable to finish the thought.
“I know,” he murmured against her, his breath hot. “Let it happen. I’ve got you.”
The permission, the sheer want in his voice, was the final key. The coil snapped. A wave of intense, shocking pleasure detonated from her center, radiating out to her fingertips and toes. Her back arched off the cushion, a silent scream on her lips as her body convulsed. And then, with a soft, helpless cry, she felt it—a hot, rushing release that soaked his chin and the towel beneath her.
For a moment, the world was pure, white sensation. As the tremors subsided into gentle aftershocks, her mind, hazy with bliss, grasped a single, startling thought: *Dean will know. He’ll feel this in the air when he comes home.*
Riley gently eased her through the last pulses, his mouth soft and soothing now. He finally lifted his head, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with satisfaction and awe. “Wow,” he said, his voice husky.
Lea could only stare, breathless and boneless, her secret now a physical truth between them.
Chapter 5
Lea’s breath slowly returned, her body still humming. Riley rested his cheek on her inner thigh, his warm breath a soft counterpoint to the cooling evening air. A profound, lazy contentment settled over her, mixed with a daring new curiosity. She looked down at him, his face still nestled against her skin, and a shy, playful smile touched her lips.
“Your turn,” she whispered, her voice still soft from her release.
Riley lifted his head, his eyes dark and questioning. “My turn for what?”
“I want to see the rest of you,” she said, the shyness making her words tentative but no less determined. “Properly. Not out here where…” She glanced toward the house. “Where anyone could walk in. Let’s go inside.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Getting bold, Mrs. Anderson.”
“Maybe,” she conceded, sitting up. She felt wonderfully exposed and powerful. “Or maybe I just want to take my time. You said it’s a whole evening thing. We’ve only just started the appetizer.”
He laughed, a rich, genuine sound, and stood, offering her his hand. She took it, his grip strong and sure as he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t bother with the towel, letting the breeze caress her damp skin as she led him by the hand across the deck, through the sliding glass door, and into the quiet, dim living room.
The familiar space felt illicit, charged with their secret. She led him down the hall to the bedroom she shared with Dean. The king-sized bed, neatly made, was a silent witness.
“Here,” she said, turning to face him just inside the doorway. Her boldness wavered for a second, replaced by a nervous flutter. “Is this… okay?”
“More than okay,” Riley assured her, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “It’s perfect.”
Reassured, Lea stepped into his space. Her hands went to the hem of his t-shirt. “Let’s get this off.” She pulled it up and over his head, revealing his torso. He was solid, with a comfortable softness over muscle, a dusting of brown hair across his chest. She splayed her hands over his warm skin, feeling his heartbeat. “You’re so warm.”
“You make me that way,” he murmured, watching her explore.
Her touch drifted lower, to the button of his jeans, which were still undone. She pushed them and his boxers down in one motion, letting them pool at his feet. He stepped out of them, and there he was, fully naked in her marital bedroom. He was already hard again, thick and heavy against his stomach.
Lea’s eyes widened with that same awestruck appreciation. “It really is… impressive,” she breathed, her earlier playfulness returning. She wrapped her hand around him again, enjoying the sheer weight and heat. “Dean wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Are you going to compare notes?” Riley asked, his voice tight with amusement and arousal as she began a slow, learning stroke.
“Maybe later,” she teased, looking up at him through her lashes. “Right now, I just want to learn for myself.” She leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his chest, then another lower, on his stomach. Her shyness was a thrilling undercurrent to every new touch, every intimate discovery. She was mapping a new territory, and the secret, playful connection between them made every inch explored feel like a shared victory.
Chapter 6
Her hand on him felt like a promise, a slow, curious exploration that drew a low groan from his throat. Riley gently stilled her wrist, his eyes dark with intent. “We’re getting ahead of the lesson plan,” he said, his voice rough. “My turn to appreciate the view.”
He guided her backward until her knees hit the mattress. With a soft push, she fell onto the plush duvet, the cool fabric a shock against her heated skin. He followed her down, covering her body with his, the solid weight of him both thrilling and grounding. He kissed her, deep and languid, as his hand slipped between her legs. He found her slick and ready, and his fingers began a slow, torturous rhythm that made her arch off the bed.
“So responsive,” he murmured against her lips. “So perfect.”
“Riley, please,” she gasped, the coil of pleasure tightening again far too quickly.
“Please what?” he teased, his fingers never stopping their exquisite motion.
“I want you. All of you.”
That was all the invitation he needed. He positioned himself at her entrance, the broad head of him pressing against her. He met her eyes, a question in his gaze even now. She answered by wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him down.
He filled her with one slow, relentless stroke. The stretch was profound, overwhelming, a delicious burn that stole her breath. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Okay?” he breathed, holding himself perfectly still, letting her adjust.
“More than okay,” she panted, her body already acclimating, craving more. “Dean’t stop.”
He began to move, a deep, rolling cadence that seemed to touch her very soul. She matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet each thrust. A bold, giddy power surged through her. She pushed against his chest until he rolled onto his back, never slipping from inside her. Now she was on top, in control, riding him with a confidence she’d never known she possessed.
She leaned forward, her full lips brushing his ear. Her voice was a husky, secretive whisper. “Dean always said you could go all night.” She nipped his earlobe playfully. “Let’s see if that’s true.”
Before he could reply, she shifted, lifting herself off him. The cool air rushed between them for a fleeting second. “Turn over,” she commanded softly, her shyness utterly incinerated by desire.
With a hungry grin, Riley obeyed, getting onto his hands and knees. Lea positioned herself behind him, her gaze lifting to the large mirror on the bedroom wall. She could see everything—the intense focus on his face, the powerful line of his back, the way her own body looked as she guided him back inside her.
This angle was deeper, more primal. She gasped as she sank down, taking every inch, feeling him differently. Her eyes stayed locked on their reflection, watching the erotic spectacle of their joining. “Look,” she breathed, her hands gripping his hips. “Look at us.”
Riley’s eyes found hers in the mirror, the connection electric. He began to move, thrusting back into her, each drive a jolt of pure sensation. “You’re incredible,” he grunted, his rhythm increasing, the slapping sound of skin on skin filling the room.
Lea could only moan in agreement, her head falling back as the pleasure built to a screaming peak. She was hurtling toward the edge again, the visual of their frantic coupling in the mirror pushing her higher, faster. She was close, so close, the promise of shattering just a breath away.