The way that you own me...

Dearly, Santa Monica {part one}

{inspired by "Off To The Races"-Lana Del Rey}

15 August, 1978. Venice Beach (Santa Monica), California, USA.

She was lying on the chaise longue under a beautiful canopy, on her stomach, her curly hair falling over her face and her red nails clinging to the pillow.
Venice Beach was a dream; if it had been up to her, she would never have left.
The sun burned on her skin, grains of sand flew over her hair, making it sparkle like diamonds.
The white bikini contrasted with her tanned skin.
If Frida had to describe the pleasure she would almost certainly have said "lying on a sunbed in Santa Monica", "almost" because there was something that definitely gave her more pleasure, she was inflamed at the very thought.
She decided that enough time had passed on her stomach, she would turn over.
Without moving, she reached over to the small table beside the lounger and picked up her sunglasses, her usual ones, big and black, it was impossible to see her eyes, and she liked that, she could look where she wanted, without being, let's say... caught.
She turned around and sat down, her back almost ached from too much time spent in the same position, she began to observe the beach, she heard children in the distance, she smiled faintly as the memory of her children when they were so young crossed her mind. A little further on a young couple were kissing each other, visibly dead with fear of being caught, hiding behind a little kiosk, they must have been 14, maybe 15. She smiled again when she realised that she too was terribly afraid of being caught with some boy at their age "doing-what-couples-do".
And then, right in front of her, a familiar figure appeared, his body half in the water, on his way out of it.
His hands were in his hair and then he rubbed his face, wet and itchy from the salt. Frida lowered her glasses and pressed her lips together, all the innocence she felt after seeing those kids had turned into a tremendous lust, now all she could see was her man.
It was her Benny, of course.
She watched him approach her for a while longer and put her glasses back on. She lay down and pretended not to notice him until she felt that someone was sitting on her lounger.

"Were you watching me?"

She looked at him through her glasses
"No."

"Do you think I'm blind?"

"No!"

" 'No' is the only thing you can say?"

"No" she replied with an annoyed face

"Do you love me?"

"No"

"I don't believe it"

She wanted to play with him, annoy him
"Ok"

He rolled his eyes.

"Ok miss, soon to be Mrs, No-Andersson" he said slipping off her glasses "what is it?"

Frida tried to hold back a laugh, but couldn't and burst out laughing in his face. Benny looked at her with a confused face.

"I don't understand you, woman," he said looking into her eyes.
Recovering from her laughter, she sat up and clung to his neck.

"I wanted to play," she said against his lips, still laughing.
Benny looked up to the sky again and Frida took the opportunity to scrounge up a smoochy kiss, then another and another.

"We'll see how many 'no's' you're going to say tonight, missy."

"I'm pretty sure I won't say even half," she replied, sliding a hand down his back, then slipping into his swimsuit.

"We'll see" and he pulled her to him, igniting a wild kiss.

"Nooo stop, we're not alone"

"So what?" he said, continuing on his beloved's neck.

"So that's enough"

"No"

"What?"

"No!"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No" he said through clenched teeth, descending further and further with his lips.

Frida gasped, dipped her hands into his hair and pulled him up.

"If you don't cut it out, Mr No, you won't have anything tonight."

Benny smirked and lay down with her.

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It was now 7 o'clock, they had fallen asleep there, the beach was empty and they decided to go back to the suite as well.
Frida opened the door and made to go to the bathroom, but Benny grabbed her by her arm.

"Where are you going Miss No? We have unfinished business," and pulled her to him, pushing her towards the wall.
At first she wasn't in the mood, but when Benny's hand caressed her thigh under the sun catcher, she changed her mind.
He pulled away from her and looked at her, eyes half closed, cheeks red, lips swollen, hair messy, breathing laboured.
He smiled at her and by the hand led her close to the bed.

"No no, I'm in control today," she told him with an almost cheeky smile, and gently sat him down on the bed. She took a few steps back and turned around, undoing the ribbon that held the sundress pinned to her waist. She slid one strap, then the other, until the fabric was at her feet. Benny admired her like you admire a sculpture by Antonio Canova, like you admire a Caravaggio, like you admire your favourite singer singing the refrain of your song.
He was stuck at the white bikini hugging her buttocks.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, making her turn completely towards him.

Frida put her index finger to her lips, as a sign of silence, undid her bra and threw it to the floor, revealing her breasts. The sign of the bikini over ber tan drove him crazy.
She closed her eyes and her hands descended on her breasts, playing with her own nipples, gasping.
Benny was really about to go crazy, he had never seen her like this.

"Please, let me come to you."

Frida shrugged her head no and continued with her work, going down to her hips, and just as her panties were about to drop, she turned, and let them drop, leaving Benny to fully admire her behind. He was even more shocked when he noticed that Frida had a hand between her legs, her head pushed back and her mouth made sounds he had never heard before.
She turned around, and walked over to Benny, taking him by the cheeks and kissing him, her hands came down from his face and began to unbutton his linen shirt while his hands were on her back, going down her hips, behind her bottom.
She dropped the shirt over his shoulders, moving to his swimsuit, trying to pull it down, Benny helped her, breaking the kiss and lifting his hips a little, allowing her to completely lower the only barrier dividing their bodies.
And as soon as they were free of that last obstacle, Frida pushed him back, making him lie on the soft mattress.

{edited}