Regina Perry

Tan Lines

A Ravenous Romance™ Panamour™ Original Publication

A Ravenous Romance™ Original Publication
www.ravenousromance.com

Tan Lines

Copyright © 2009 by Regina Perry

Ravenous Romance™
100 Cummings Center
Suite 125G
Beverly, MA 01915

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

ISBN: 978-1-60777-117-3

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

I’m no sun goddess, but I do aim to keep my skin bronzed year round, so I frequent a tanning salon in my neighborhood. I pride myself on my health, athletic ability and good body tone. I play for a girls’ fast pitch softball league, swim on the city team and teach yoga. I’m conscious of my body, wanting my skin and physique to be at their best in a swimsuit or leotard.

Upon entering the salon, I encounter shelves of tanning accelerators. The names of the various bronzers would make one think she’d mistakenly arrived at a brothel: Love Potion, Enchanted, Dark Secrets, Spellbound, and Stolen Darkness. Enya croons “Wild Child” in surround sound as I search for the attendant. Just when I’m thinking the place must be abandoned, Ginger pops around the corner, beaming her vivacious smile.

“Hey, Ava, how’s it going?”

“Great, except for this stupid shoulder injury I got from pitching in last week’s softball game. Now I can’t even demonstrate downward dog. Guess I’ll get a lot better at describing yoga poses until it heals.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. How long did they say it would take?”

“Six to eight weeks!”

“So you’ll be out of softball that long too?”

“Unfortunately…guess I’ll catch up on my reading,” I laugh.

“I’m sure you’ll find something entertaining to occupy yourself with,” she says, and winks. “Been dating anyone interesting?”

“Nah, I don’t even get asked out anymore.”

“What? A fit, gorgeous woman like you? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Well, after Rusty left, I just had no desire to be with anyone else. I’d go on a date, but the whole time, all I could think about was Rusty. I guess word got out that I was one boring date.” I attempt a chuckle.

“Well, you should go out with me and my friends some night. Find someone new.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Hook-ups have never interested me much. Rusty and I started dating in high school. We were planning to get married.”

“I’m so sorry, Ava. After all this time, you still don’t think you could fall for someone new?”

“Actually, I think I’m ready now, if the right one were to come along. Question is, how do you find that right one?”

“If you’re not willing to get out there and look for it, I guess you just have to hope and pray it knocks on your door.”

“Doesn’t sound too promising, does it?”

“You never know…” Ginger smiles. “The stand-up is ready for you.” She motions with a nod of her head towards the back hallway.

Entering the dressing room, I’m overwhelmed by fresh, scarlet red paint. The standing octagonal tanning booth fills half of the four-by-six-foot area. Setting down my bags, I turn to discover a newly installed full-length mirror. A shelf stocked with tissues, wet wipes and deodorant had been installed on the wall beside the door, with hooks beneath for hanging clothing. A fusion of tropical fruit, chocolate, and coconut engages my sense of smell.

I tune the radio to my favorite station and undress while Usher sings “Love in This Club.” I drape my clothes over the hooks and place my jewelry on the shelf. The new, plush throw rug emblazoned with a brilliant red and gold sunburst cushions my feet. I slip on my bikini bottoms and begin to lather on the accelerator. As I am attempting to apply it to my back, however, pain racks through my body. Yoga training had given me the flexibility to reach the middle of my back, but not with this shoulder injury. I crack the door open, stick out my head and call for Ginger.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind helping me a minute?”

“Sure, no problem.” She bounces around the counter and starts toward me. Her five-foot-two-inch body literally bobs as she walks, her blond ponytail swishing from side to side. She’s about five years younger than me, and the word “vivacious” describes her best, from her cute, upturned freckled nose to her perfect little butt that sways with every step. Her nipples, poking through her thin cotton tank, slant upward too. Hmm…at the same angle as her nose.

“Whatcha need, Ava?”

“Do you think you could rub the bronzer on my back? I can’t reach the middle with this bum shoulder,” I plead, standing behind the door.

“Of course.”

I turn away and open the door wide enough for her to enter. Facing the wall, I wait while she warms the bronzer, rubbing her hands together. Slowly, she begins to massage it into my skin, beginning at my waist and working her way upward. I’m pleased by the sensation of her touch as she works my muscles.

“Oh, Ginger, you should be a massage therapist. That feels so good.” I relax more with each swirl of her hands.

“Actually, I’m enrolled in a school of massage.”

“Great! You’re wonderful already. I’d say you’re ready to graduate.”

“Thanks. I really enjoy it, too. I love the feel of skin and muscles beneath my fingers.”

“Mmm,” I moan, gripping the wall for support, relishing every moment. I’m acutely aware that my boobs have swung forward, dangling freely.

“Most people tan nude. Do you always wear your bottoms?” she asks.

“Yeah, I want to chart my progress. Gotta have something to compare it to, you know.”

“Cool. I think bikini lines can be so sexy – a piece of art, if done just right.”

“Oh, I agree.”

“Just your bottoms? Not the top?”

“Right. I don’t want any strap lines. Besides, I love seeing the golden, sun-kissed skin on my breasts—even if it is just pretend sun.” I laugh. “Do you tan nude?”

“No, I agree with you. I want to see my progress.”

“Top, too?”

“Yes, but I tuck the straps inside the bra cups.”

“Oh, how clever.” Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“May I sneak a peek?”

“What?” I tense, standing straight.

“I want to see your tan line. I’ll just pull down your bikini a little.”

“Oh, sure. Okay.” I relax into my previous stance.

It’s strange, being half-naked with another woman in this tight space. But it’s been so long since I’ve been naked with anyone. I’d probably feel strange with a man too.

Ginger slides her hands around to my navel, working her fingers in small circles. Then she slides her thumbs inside the band of my bikini, pushing it down about an inch, lowering the suit all the way around.

I can’t believe my reaction. My groin contracts, and the sensation tingles all the way down my inner thighs. There’s a butterfly in my pussy that won’t go away, no matter how hard I fight it.

“Mm…nice lines,” Ginger gushes, “and you take such good care of your skin. It’s so smooth and supple.”

“Thanks,” I squeak. Can she tell I’m aroused?

She continues to massage me, concentrating on the newly revealed inch at the top of my bikini. She slithers her hands back to the front along my waist, then extends her circular motions upward until she’s brushing against the underside of my breasts. A moan escapes from my throat as I press my body into her hands.

“Did you get enough of the bronzer on your breasts?” she asks.

“Uh…I…I’m not sure,” I stutter.

She pushes her buttocks against the door to secure it closed. I hear the lock latch, and the first trickle of wetness drips into my crotch. She squeezes a few more drops of bronzer onto her hands, then widens the circles on my stomach until she’s kneading my breasts. I reflexively rest against her. She pulls me tighter to her chest, and I can feel her nipples against my back. Her hands cup my tits as her thumbs flick across my nipples, intensifying the pressure and speed. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched that I’m near orgasm. My head falls onto her shoulder, my back arches and my pelvis thrusts heavenward. I tingle with desire. When she slides her hand down my stomach and pushes inside my bikini, my inner thighs quiver and knees buckle.

Using the pressure of her fingers, she turns my body to face her. I peer at her through half-closed eyes and am faced with my own bare-chested reflection in the mirror behind her. The shock of watching Ginger examine my nakedness titillates me even more. She rolls her tongue across her parted lips. The moisture makes them glisten. She grips me at the ribs, sliding her hands beneath my breasts, pushing them higher. Lowering her mouth, she captures a nipple between her teeth before sucking it deep into her mouth. I feel her tongue circling my areola, round and round, before flicking up and down my nipple. I squirm in ecstasy. She moves to the other tit and equalizes the pleasure.

“You really have sensitive tits, Ava.”

“Yes,” I whisper, still shaking.

Her hands move down my side, her fingers slipping beneath the bikini and sliding it downward. She pulls it down far enough to expose my pubic hair in front, the back of the suit cupping under my butt checks. She teases me, tickling my bush while she sucks one breast, then the other. The pressure of the bikini is exciting me. I crave to be freed from it but savor the suspense of waiting.

Her hands move to my backside, and my glutes tighten as she molds them with her hands. Her flawless round ass juts into the reflection of the mirror. I yearn to explore and caress her flesh the same way she is probing mine. I begin to pant when I feel her grip the bikini and lower it. Coolness hits my exposed pussy, and I suck in air. She slings my bottoms to the side, positioning herself under me. Sliding her arms between my thighs, she spreads them with her elbows as my back slides down the wall far enough for her to reach me with her mouth. I hear her groan as she comes within eye-level of my small triangular bush – the only hair remaining after a Brazilian. I can’t believe how hungry I am for her touch, for the warm moisture of her mouth. She teases me, releasing hot breaths against my twat. I shove it forward, trying to reach her darting tongue.

Her hands move up behind me to clutch my ass again. I whimper and bounce my hips forward and back, returning her tease. At my next forward push, her tongue connects with my nether lips, and I hold my position. She twitters her tongue up and down my wet creases. I squeal my delight and lower into her mouth, increasing the pressure. When she discovers my swollen clit, she curls her tongue around it, then flicks back and forth until I’m near delirium. My juices drip between my folds and fill her mouth. I hear her slurping as her tongue swirls and flicks in and out.

She slips her middle finger inside me and steadily begins to wiggle it. “You like that, Ava?”

I groan in response, too embarrassed to speak.

“You want me to finger-fuck you, Ava?”

Again, I moan.

“Talk to me, Ava. You’ve got to tell me you want it.”

“Yes,” I mouth.

“Louder, Ava. I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I pant.

“What?”

“Yes!” I shout.

She inserts a second finger and pumps me hard, in rhythm with my rocking. Her mouth latches onto my clit, sucking and raking her tongue back and forth while she finger-fucks me. In my excitement, my arm flings to the side and knocks the jewelry and deodorant from the shelf. The commotion only exhilarates me more. The pace of my hips matches my ecstasy, building again and again to climax. My whole body is convulsed with vibrations, all the way to the throb in my head. I look down and see her face covered in my sticky fluid. The sight is more than I can take, and my knees give way. Sliding to the floor in front of her, I reach for the support of my hanging jeans.

I’m amazed by the sugary taste as I begin to lick her cheeks. My appetite for this delicacy becomes insatiable as I slurp her face, devouring every drop.

“Oh yes, baby. Eat it up. Clean me.”

I obey, sucking her face. I never thought I could kiss a woman, but now I’m overcome with desire to bond with her mouth. I grab her face with both hands and lock onto open, waiting lips. Her tongue wraps around mine; her arms embrace my back and pull me closer.

I grope at her waistline, searching for the bottom of her tank top. Lifting it over her head, I gasp at my first glimpse of her naked bosom. Tiny triangles of white skin frame her tits, creating the most seductive portrait. Touching her bare flesh, I tremble as I enclose my hands over her perky mounds. I can’t believe the pleasure that pulses through my whole body. Leaning towards her, I engulf a nipple with my mouth. I support her as she arches her back into my arms. I suck from one to the other, then twirl my tongue around each nipple before moving to the crevice between her breasts, licking my way downward. I begin to pull down her shorts, and she rises to her knees. I think she’s helping me remove them, but instead she stands, puts her top on and backs away.

I shiver at the loss of her. Ravenous to taste her, I know the disappointment shows in my eyes.

She adjusts her tank top, discreetly opens the door and slides through. Before pulling it shut, she pokes her head back inside. “I think your back is covered now.”

Startled, I stare at my reflection – dejected and exposed. The red carpet casts its hue over me, magnifying my humiliation. I crumple over in shock. What just happened?

It takes me twenty minutes to get myself together and climb into the booth. I turn up the music but don’t dance. I shudder. When the timer buzzes, I dress as quickly as I can. I can’t wait to get out of here.

As I leave, I attempt a smile as I scurry past her counter.

“Bye, Ava. I’ll look forward to your next visit. Can’t wait to see the progression of your tan lines.”

THE END