Sea Orphan

Lucien watched her climb while holding the basket in one hand. Her bare buttocks showed more than once as she had to scramble up on yet another rock causing his cock to throb with sudden longing to taste those forbidden fruits again. Hastily, to hide his ardor, he set up his easel.

He noticed her gaze on his cock and marveled at the changing expressions in their blue depths. They were like the ocean, forever changing color. One moment her irises were cerulean blue the next moment they darkened to inky limpid pools. He could imagine this girl a few years older, fully developed, her face fuller. She’d be beautiful. He needed to paint her; he wanted to paint her now before a boat passed by to take her away. Maybe he’d wait to build a fire…

“Is this where you want me?” Becky called out.

“Yes. I’ll be with you in a minute to position you. Just enjoy the scenery while I get ready.” He readied his palette and started a background wash on the white canvas. Every now and then he watched her as she sat on the boulder. The basket next to her, her arms around her knees, she looked the picture of innocence.

She leaned her face on her knees to look down at him. What was that sadness he now read in her eyes? That was not the expression he wanted. He wanted dancing lights, mischief and even sexiness to shine from them. It wasn’t beyond a girl her age to feel sexy, to flirt a little . . . but what was her age? She hadn’t told him and he hadn’t asked her.

He fought against the passion that caused his cock to become erect, to throb with desire. He felt awkward in the presence of the girl. Now that she was awake her face almost seemed too wise for such a youngster. Regret filled him that he’d violated her while she slept. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he stopped himself just in time. She wouldn’t know about it and he’d just look foolish.