Blister in the Sun Part 1

For Project Team Beta's Smut University 2014 workshop.
Prompt: Pre-Class Assignment

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
Unbeta'd: All mistakes are my own. Sorry for my mess.

Warnings: Voyeurism and longing. Ultimately will be Edward and Bella but not quite there yet.

I see it. When he leans over and kisses her. Their mouths parting in unison as they breathe the salty air before their tongues clash in a wet dance. I can't hear it, but I know she moans when she turns her body just that much more toward him, her hand ghosting up his bare torso, following the lines of his defined body to his neck where she grabs him with tiny fingers, pulling him closer, melting their lips together.

They pull apart, sharing a look, an understanding passing between the two of them. Maybe the others don't see it. Maybe they don't care. Not how his fingers smooth back and forth across her bare back, drawing circles and hearts and tiny little swirls. Or how her legs press together, her hips minutely moving in tandem with every push against her spine.

He lays his arm around her neck, pulling her toward the edges of the crowd, and when they pass, he gives me a smile, and if I'm not mistaken, it's just the tiniest bit brighter than the one he gives her. When Jake leans over, laying a sweet kiss on my cheek, he feels how heated my skin is, how much I burn over that simple look.

"You okay, babe?" he asks.

I nod my head. "Yeah. I'm going to get another beer. You want anything?"

He shakes his head, leaning closer toward Paul and his gang of buddies. "Nah. I'm good."

I leave them, their own little group of misfits, barely fitting into the social crowd. Not like him. Not like how he shines, how everyone looks up to his achievements on the field, in the classroom, in the bedroom. A gentleman they say. There hasn't been many, but the rumors do make their rounds.

"He knows how to love." That one. It makes everyone swoon. Including me.

Instead of heading toward the cooler, I turn the other way down the beach, glancing over my shoulder, looking to see if anyone notices. No one does. No one ever does. Their footsteps are still visible in the sand, close together, dragging at points. I'm sure that's where he pulls her close, kissing her again until she's laughing, moaning, pulling on his hand to, "Hurry."

They've found a secluded area of the deserted beach, the setting sun casting rays of gold across the rocks surrounding them in their own little alcove. His rusted hair almost seems on fire as he pulls her to her knees, the pink in his lips wet with their need as he kisses her in time with the waves hitting the shore just feet away.

She whispers his name, "Edward." And they share another look, another kiss, another moan and sigh as his hand cups her cheeks and then glides down her neck, her shoulders, her stomach, until it disappears beyond the stretch of her bikini bottom.

I know when he touches her. When his fingers glide through her wet. Because she tenses, the moan caught on her lips as her eyes squeeze shut. She lets it all go in a release of air as her hips press forward and back and then forward again.

"Fuck, Edward…" she says. "Don't stop."

His free arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer as he kisses her again, almost desperate in the way his lips slide against her own, across her cheek, down to her chin, biting and sucking on her neck. She grasps his shoulders, steadying her shaking body, her knees wobbling in the sand, as she reciprocates the action, her fingers slow and steady to his hips before moving past the waistline of his swim shorts.

The rock is sharp beneath my flesh, but I hardly even notice the pain. Not as I crawl up it, leaning my bare tummy against the jagged edges, my fingers digging into the crevices, holding on as my breath stops. Her hand moves in his shorts, gripping his length so good that he's moaning against her neck, his hips moving with her dance.

He's quick. Agile and strong. Just like how he is on the field. He sweeps her up into his arms, laying her down onto the sand, pressing between her legs, tugging the colorful fabric covering her breasts to the side. His lips are plump against her nipple, sucking the hard tip into his mouth, leaving wet trails down her body as his shoulders spread her legs even more.

It's hard to see. When he pulls her swimsuit to the side. When his tongue peeks out against her wet. When he sucks and groans and whispers dirty against her unfulfilled desire. So I crawl higher, exposing myself even more to their wandering eyes, just in time to see her grip his rust as her orgasm tears through her body. Her spine arches up from the hot sand, her shoulders anchoring her to the ground as he anchors her hips with his lips.

He releases her with a final suck, leaning back on his knees and the tips of his toes. He's grinning, like he just won the World Cup. "Like that, babe?"

Her giggle is breathless as she lifts her hand, beckoning him with a finger. "Fuck me now, Edward."

I hate how it's her that's turning him on so good. How he follows her commands with a swift nod and quick fingers. How he whispers her name against the golden glow of the setting sun. But all that hate, all that red, all that urge to hurt her and make him mine, vanishes as he drops his swim shorts from where they sit low on his hips. They land in a pile at his knees, a blur of blue against the sand.

And then I see him. Long and thick. Hard and soft. Gleaming with his desire on that perfect mushroomed head as his hand grips himself tight, pumping up and then down. Moaning at the darkened sky as she whines with her impatience.

"Come on already!"

He grins, laughing as he lays his body on top of hers, his hand between their legs, guiding himself into her opening. I can't see her. Not that I want to. But I do see how he disappears. The inches sinking into her wetness as his mouth falls open in a long groan, the soft glow of the sun acting as a glittering backdrop against their spied sin.

"Alice." He sighs against her skin, kissing her everywhere he can. I hate it. I wish it were me. That I was the one beneath him, taking him in, pleasing him so good that he's left breathless, the sweat pooling on his flesh as he thrusts toward that completion, whispering my name into the air. "Bella. Bella. Bella."

I can't help it. When my fingers find myself. Wanting and needy beneath my own swimsuit. Weeping at the sight of his dick so perfect in its conquer of her body. I glue my lips together, fighting for air through my nose, as I trap the moans that want to escape.

He's slow and gentle, enough for me to see how he glistens in the setting sun when he pulls away from her body. Her grip. Her fingers on his ass. Her pussy clenching so tight. I know this. He tells me with closed eyes. "Fuck! Fuck! You feel so good, babe. So fucking tight."

That grip. It sends him into a frenzy. His hips pushing and pulling. Now faster and harder. The sand flies with their dance, surrounding them in a halo of desert storm. Her moans the thunder. His groans the lightning. The swirl of my fingers as the secret in the wind.

He's on his knees again, hooking her legs over his arms, bending her body until his palms are flat on the sand. He pounds so good into her that she falls. I can hear her cries, but they don't really register in my mind. Not with his back tensing. His head thrown to the sky. His eyes squeezed shut so tight as his lips fall apart.

He's out of her. His dick in his hand as he finishes what he started in the cool night air. His desire bursts from him in long strands of white. One and then two and then three. Painting her stomach, her breasts, the underside of her collarbone. It leaves me breathless with how much comes from him. With how much I want him to claim me just like that. I fall from the rocks, reaching my own end, unable to help the little whisper of my own desire that escapes from my lips.

"Fuck, Edward…"

His head rights itself. His eyes slowly opening, revealing the satiated dark greens beneath hooded lids. The pink in his lips tilt into that crooked grin of his as he comes down from his high. He meets my gaze. Just for a second as he goes to look down at the whimpering girl beneath him.

If he looks up again, he's not quick enough to see me spying before I've ducked down, pressing my back against the rock, covering my mouth with sticky fingers as my breath escalates even more so, my heart just a tiny bit behind it, my pussy still crying with its satisfaction, seeping through my suit, smearing along my thighs.

"You okay?" she asks.

He's silent for just a moment. "Yeah. We should get back."

I wait. Listening as they fix themselves. Righting their swimsuits. Brushing the sand from their bodies. Her slap against his skin and the squeal that soon follows, "Edward! My hair!"

He laughs, pulling her along, until his voice is just an echo in the ocean breeze. "Worth it though, right?"

Gonna try and make a short story out of all these homework prompts this summer. Should be fun. Weekly updates. Check out PTB's Smut University 2014 for some good times.