Bad Girls, Good Times update

“Just what kind of ‘swimmers’ did you have on the agenda for today?” Nancy laughed, sidling around the edge of the pool to the diving board, showing off her lean body with every step.

“Are you suggesting I might have an ulterior motive?” Patrick asked, following after her with an unmistakably awestruck tone to his voice.

Nancy wiggled her ass, just to reward him for making her feel so sexy. “I hope you have several.”

After all, she had plenty herself, her pussy warming up as she climbed the diving board. God, he was one beautiful man. The thought of fucking him in the pool was so delicious—their revitalized relationship—the cooing, teenage naughtiness of it—they’d had to be responsible adults for so long. It felt too damn good to cut loose, enjoy themselves, their bodies, their intimacy, and this lovely-ass house they had all to themselves.

“After all,” Nancy continued, shifting her weight on the diving board to make it wiggle up and down underneath her, “I did marry you for your money, richboy.”

“I feel much richer when I’m with you,” Patrick said, lunging up the diving board ladder after her. He stood behind her, towering over her lithe little body. “You gonna go or do I have to give you motivation?”

“Maybe I should stay right here.” Nancy reached innocently behind herself, unerringly finding the groin of his swim trunks and groping him through it. “I mean, doing it in a swimming pool—kinda conventional, when you think about it. But fucking on the diving board? That’s kinky.”

“I think Syd might be rubbing off on you,” Patrick said huskily, reaching for her slender wrist to pull her hand more firmly against his erection.

Nancy teasingly snatched her hand back before he could. “And you like it.”

“Hell yeah. If you wanna compete with your slutty single friend with the BDSM inclinations, I’m your man.”

“Now you’re really getting me hot.” It was true. Nancy was actually blushing. She tip-toed out to the edge of the board. “I think I have to cool off.”

Patrick taunted her by pressing down on the board with his foot, making it shudder under Nancy. “Be my guest. I’d love to see that bikini stay on after you hit the water.”

Nancy sighed. “Another man who’s only interested in me for my form.”

Bouncing on the wobbling board—and putting a lot of bounce into it—Nancy made a graceful dive down into the cool water. She was gratified to slice into the surface of the water, shiving almost to the bottom, caressed by a flurry of bubbles. Then Patrick cannonballed down after her.

She watched the explosion of froth where he hit the surface, then he knifed down after her, powerful arms and legs carrying him right to her. He reached for the tie of her bikini top, malice in his eyes, and Nancy kicked off the bottom, propelling herself up to the surface with a serpentine flowing of her body. Patrick surfaced right after her, grinning.

“You rat,” Nancy cried in mock indignation. “How would you like it if I tried something like that?”

“I think I like it two or three times a night,” Patrick challenged her.

“You callin’ my bluff, Mr. DA?”

“I’ll call you anything you like, pretty lady,” Patrick said, splashing water in her lovely face.

Nancy cackled at the game. She cartwheeled in the water, replacing her head at the surface with her feet, and dove down past Patrick’s lower body. Her hands grabbed at his trunks and pulled them all the way down off his feet, getting a good look at his cock before she was forced to surface. She held her eyes shut for a moment, shuddering with arousal over the fresh memories of Patrick’s big hairy body and enormous cock. It was at least eight inches long, as thick as a child’s wrist.

Patrick wrapped her up in an embrace from behind and she felt it brushing against her trim hip. Christ, he could spank her with that thing if he really wanted to…

“Not very fair-minded of you, officer. Now I’ve got nothing on and you’ve still got all your modesty. Well, as much as you ever have—“

Giggling, Nancy wiggled free of his grip. “Do something about it, McKenna!” she challenged, swimming away from him.

Patrick surged after her, catching her ankle just before she got to the poolside. She squawked, kicked playfully, but he was quick to shift his aim to the catch of her bikini top. His fingers hooked at it and the thin cloth ripped easily.

“Eeeek!” Nancy shrieked, the top falling away from her sumptuous chest. “Pendejo!”

She rolled over onto her back, showing off her nubile breasts as he stared at her. Patrick’s cock lurched. He eagerly reached out and closed his hand around one of her firm breasts.

“Oohhh!” Nancy moaned, the feeling of his rough grab sinking right into her tender body. “Won’t be that easy!” she teased, slipping away from him again.

“You’re always easy!” Patrick shouted after her naked back. “That’s what I like about you!”

He splashed after his wife with rapid strokes that soon overtook her. His big hands clutched on her tiny waist, catching her firmly—slid down her wet body until he came to the little thong that was the last thing covering her sumptuous body. He tore it right off of her. Nancy squealed.

“Pendejo!” she repeated. “Now my swimsuit’s ruined.”

“I’m going to ruin you next.”

Nancy pulled her long, wet hair from in front of her face. “I don’t wanna be ruined. I want you to fucking destroy me.”

She smirked at him as she treaded water, in no doubt that Patrick would give her what she wanted.

Patrick dove under the water. This time, Nancy held still for him. She didn’t even try to put up a fight. He clutched at her tight little hips and pulled her snatch to his face. His mouth closed over it and his tongue traced over her, finding her clit as easily as ever. Nancy had been feeling tingles for a while, the cool water seeming to quiver against her exposed clitoris, but now Patrick’s hot tongue showed her what her little bundle of nerves could really feel.

She cried out with joy at what he was doing to her. Her hands splashed down into the water and clenched on his head. Forgetting Patrick’s need for air, Nancy held his face against her burning pussy. It was only when his powerful hands gripped her wrists and wrenched them off his head that she remembered Mr. McKenna had to breathe.

He popped up out of the water, gasping for air, with Nancy squeezing her thighs together. She still wished he had licked her just one more time.

“When you said you married me for my money, I didn’t know you were going to try and drown me for it,” Patrick joked.

“You’d’ve died happy,” Nancy reasoned, her sex still throbbing with a greedy ache. “You ready to go down again?”

Patrick shook his head. “Nancy, the way you look without your bikini, you should know I don’t have the patience for clam-diving.”

“It looked that bad on me, huh?” Nancy quipped.

“Let’s go over to the shallow end. I need some leverage for what you’re going to get.”

“Cool.” Nancy’s hand disappeared under the water. “I’ll lead the way.”

“Uuuunh!” Patrick groaned with enjoyment, feeling her fingers wrap around his jutting prick.

“Here, boy. C’mere.”

Nancy held her grip tightly while she kicked through the water, Patrick letting himself be dragged along with only a few sweeps of his arms to keep pace. It was enough to make him vow never to denigrate the humble handjob again.

Nancy swept her thumb over his glans, feeling a hot plum of precum from the tip of his member. “Think I’ve given you enough foreplay?” she cooed.

“You looking like that is enough foreplay,” Patrick groaned, cornering her against the wall of the pool, hoisting her hips up so that her legs automatically went around her waist.

Feeling the pool wall at her back and Patrick’s body in her embrace, Nancy had a pretty good idea what her husband had in store for her. Nancy loved when Patrick—her intellectual lawyer husband—finally broke down and used his considerable size and muscle for her benefit, picking her up and simply taking her against the nearest wall.

Beyond the savagery of the fucking, it felt like she was floating on his passion for her. But that was a kind of lovemaking that was best in short bursts. As much as she watched her weight, she couldn’t expect Patrick to hold her up for hours on end. But with the gentle waters lightening them both, buffeting their weight, the sex could go on and on. As fiery or as gentle as the dictates of their desire made it.

She joked about Patrick’s wealth, but hot damn, Nancy loved owning a pool.

“And that big cock is enough foreplay for me,” Nancy said, using her continuing grip on his manhood to line it up with her cunt and get what she had coming.

Syd’s voice cut through the heatedly fraught atmosphere like a police siren. “You straight women are wild.”

Nancy felt like she’d been dunked in cold water, only she was already in cold water. This felt worse. “Syd, I love you, but you are picking a way bad time!”

“Sorry. I came over, got an eyeful, wondered whether I should come clean or just pretend I didn’t see the pre-pound stage of your game plan… figured I might as well ‘fess up and tell you what’s going down: Marco Conroy made bail.”

“What?” Nancy asked, twisting her neck around to take Syd in and seeing that her partner, for once, seemed absurdly overdressed—given what the other two on the scene were wearing. Syd’s jeans, blazer, and tanktop looked downright conservative.

She looked back at Patrick and realized he was still holding her against the side of the pool, his cock still hard, still lightly touching her mons. She could feel it throbbing. It was a weirdly heady sensation, with Syd there, still playing cops and robbers…

“That’s fucking bullshit,” she told Patrick. “Conroy out on bail?”

“That’s judges for you,” he said. “Sometimes it’s like playing the lottery. You never know when you’ll come up snake eyes.”

“So what do we do?” Syd asked Patrick. “You feel free to help out, so long as you’re balls-deep in my partner.”

“Syd, if he were balls-deep, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Patrick said, surprisingly composed considering Nancy could feel his erection’s pulse trembling in her folds. His hips twitched, edging him closer to her, spreading her, almost entering her.

Nancy’s lips parted softly. He wouldn’t, would he? Wouldn’t fuck her right in front of Syd… Then again, the idea wasn’t turning her off. And if it wasn’t turning her off, why should it turn him off?

“I assume you’ve had the Jacks—“

“The Bens,” Nancy and Syd said together.

“Yeah, them, they’ve asked for wire-taps and search warrants on Conroy’s hide-outs?”

“For all the good it’ll do,” Syd said. “Yeah.”

“Then there’s nothing else to do right now.”

“Patrick’s right,” Nancy said, hoping Syd didn’t hear the breathiness that seemed like a klaxon to her. Fuck, Patrick was almost inside her, and as shocked as she was by that, Nancy was more shocked that she didn’t mind, didn’t care. Shit, she almost wanted Syd to see, she was so lightheaded about it. “There’s no magic bullet we’ve got aimed at Conroy. We shot our shot, arresting him, and if it doesn’t hold up—it didn’t hold up. We’ve just gotta wait and hope we get another clear shot at him.”

Syd jerked her head up, aiming her sizzling glare at the sky instead of letting Patrick or Nancy be fried by it. “Total fucking bullshit.”

Then Nancy felt el Diablo inside her, only he must’ve been at the backdoor, because God knew nothing was getting past where Patrick was at her front. “Why don’t you join us? Cool off a little. Not like there’s anything else you can do right now but… stay loose.”

Syd’s eyebrows shot up. “Tempting, Nanc—you throw a hell of a pool party—but I don’t have a suit.”

“So don’t have a suit,” Patrick said… his firm, wolfish voice making Nancy clench. Oh God, they were really doing this, they were fucking seducing her partner or giving her partner license to seduce them or just fucking fucking, they were fucking and Syd was fucking there and she could fuck them, they could fuck her…

“Yeah,” Nancy moaned, now feeling herself spreading, like her cunt was trying to suck Patrick into her. “I’m not worried about you stealing my man.”

“I can see that,” Syd observed, her own voice sounding curiously high. “Okay. Okay. Why the fuck not?” She shrugged off her jacket. “You’ve been talking too much about how good you’ve been getting it, McKenna. Now I want some of it.” She peeled her tank up over her head. Her bra shimmered on fine, luscious tits. “And you look too damn fine. That’s another thing, Nanc. Fucking dressing up with you to play hookers and strippers and gun molls…”

“Gun molls?” Patrick repeated.