Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Never thought I’d see you on the guard stand,” Brandy says into the megaphone, announcing her presence.

Willy looks surprised but genuinely happy to see her—his face spreads into a wide grin, his skin and teeth glowing from the pool lights, and Brandy feels shy all of a sudden. She waves at him and he reaches for his own megaphone.

“Well, hello,” he says, in a sultry kind of voice that makes Brandy squirm in her chair. He cracks a beer open one handed and she watches the long column of his throat work as he takes a few swigs. In the momentary silence, Brandy tries to remember why she came here—to thank Willy for the job opportunity, for his mentorship over the summer... for keeping his stubbly facial hair at the perfect length between fuzzy and scratchy... not that she’d know, really. Not that she’s thought about it.

Right as she opens her mouth, Willy’s megaphone makes a slight crackling noise, and he says, “So, uh. I heard about your—your sex... list... thing.” His tone sounds nervous, but he looks calm as ever staring her down from across the pool, slouched in his seat with his legs spread open.

Brandy sighs into the megaphone. “Yeah, it was a total waste of time.” Willy says nothing, only raises one eyebrow while he sips on his beer. Brandy lowers her voice but still talks into the mic. “I had sex with Rusty and he finished in like, two seconds. Is that even normal?”

Willy almost chokes on his beer laughing. He coughs a few times into the megaphone before saying, “For guys like Rusty? Yeah, that’s about what I would expect.” Before she can ask him what that means, he clicks the mic again. “Did you even...?” he trails off, makes a suggestive face like she’s supposed to know what he’s asking.

“Did I what?”

Willy rolls his eyes and stage whispers into the megaphone. “ Did you have an orgasm?”

Brandy’s face gets all hot. She presses her knees tighter together. “ No, I didn’t, thank you very much,” she snaps at him. “I didn’t have one with Rusty, or with Derrick, or Duffy, or anyone else I hooked up with this summer, because apparently boys are completely useless and don’t know how to please a woman, and this is why everyone needs feminism, not just—”

“Brandy, Brandy, shut up, I don’t wanna hear it. I’ve sat through enough of your lectures this summer and while I did learn a lot, I respectfully ask that you please shut the fuck up now.”

Brandy straightens up at that, feeling proud of herself. “You learned a lot from me? About feminism?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he waves her off and opens another beer. Brandy can tell he’s embarrassed by the admission and it makes her want to push his buttons more, get him a little riled up, but Willy returns to the question at hand. “But you’ve at least, like, had one? Like, jerked off?” He makes a crude gesture over his lap and Brandy wrinkles her nose.

“Ugh, that is not how girls jerk off—”

“So show me,” Willy says.

That shocks a laugh out of Brandy. Willy doesn’t say anything more, just continues looking at her, like... like in a lustful way, as her Mom’s romance novels would probably describe.

She swallows thickly before saying, “Well, I didn’t, um. I tried using my hands and I didn’t really get anywhere, so...”

“So...” Willy waves his hand like he’s prompting her to get on with the rest of the story. Instead, he says, “Try again. Maybe I can return the favor and teach you a thing or two.”

The strong rumble of his voice and the confidence in his own suggestion makes her shiver. The back of her knees prickle with sweat.

“You sound awfully confident,” Brandy replies shakily. She could try to keep up the banter a little longer, but what’s the point with the way Willy’s hooded eyes are currently trailing their way up her legs. She parts her knees slowly, feeling sexy but also hoping she’s not trying too hard to come off as sexy.

Her eyes are scrunched closed, and she takes a few deep breaths and focuses on the pool lights dancing in her eyelids. The night air is refreshingly cool on the inside of her thighs, where the bare skin feels hot and humid. She moves the megaphone to her left hand so she can use her right to bunch the hem of her skirt up over her hips.

Willy groans quietly but deep in his throat, and Brandy opens her eyes to find him staring directly at her plain cotton panties. One large hand resting on the top of his thigh. She can’t see that well from the other side of the pool, but she can picture clear as day the coarse, dark hair on the back of his hands, the muscles along his forearms and up to his bicep. The way they flexed and moved beneath his skin—and sometimes, under her hands—in the water during their swim lessons.

Brandy remembers she’s the student now, and tries to recall how she touched herself at home, in the semi-privacy of her own bedroom. She moves her hand to the waistband of her underwear, and just as she’s about to push her hand underneath she hears Willy’s amplified voice say: “ Stop! ”

“What?!” She’s annoyed with him already. Annoyed with herself for being so into him.

“You can’t just go zero to sixty and shove your hand down there, Brandy!” Willy chastises her.

She rolls her eyes. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

“You gotta drag it out a little, you should...” He looks her up and down again, and even with the megaphone covering most of his face, Brandy does not miss the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips before speaking. “You should touch yourself like, over your underwear. Lightly, y’know? Just enough to tease.”

She nods to herself and takes a breath to reset.

“And... action!”

Brandy flips him off, but she does what he says. Runs her hand up and down one thigh, just quick and light enough to leave goosebumps. Traces the line of her panties from her hip bone into the crotch, and then drags one finger slowly up the center until she feels herself twitch and clench with anticipation.

“Fuck, Brandy,” Willy breaths into the megaphone, and the husky, metallic sound of it gets her going more than she expects. She brings her hand up to play with her breasts, cup and squeeze them gently before she twists one nipple curiously. Willy can’t see through her shirt, can only see the vague outline of her hand moving under the fabric, but there’s something about that that excites her. She pinches herself one more time, biting her lip to keep from moaning too loud, all while looking right at Willy. She figures she must be doing something right, since she’s currently watching his hand flex and squeeze over the growing tent in his shorts.

She decides to follow suit and brings her hand back down to cup over her pussy, rubbing small circles where she can feel herself getting wet through the fabric. She kind of hopes Willy can see it.

“That’s good,” he pants into the megaphone. “God, Brandy, that’s—you’re so hot, shit ,” Willy bites out, and Brandy can see now he has his shorts unbuttoned and one hand pushed into them.

Her arm feels noodle limp as she lifts the megaphone to her lips. She hears herself ask, “Can I touch myself now?” and it sounds so foreign and pornstar-ish and kind of... really hot to her own ears, and she’s more than pleased to hear Willy pant a quiet Yes across the way.

She finally lets her fingers slip beneath the fabric and she’s suddenly aching for it—she was never this wet when she touched herself at home, and it doesn’t take long for her to start stroking frantically. Willy moans again, but Brandy can barely hear it over the pounding in her ears and the slick sounds of three fingers against her pussy.

“Willy, Willy, oh— fuck!” Brandy pants into the air, head thrown back in pleasure. She’s so fucking close, can feel something building in the pit of her stomach, in the clench of what feels like every muscle in her body. She’s so wrapped up in it that she doesn’t hear Willy climb out of his chair, doesn’t hear his sandals slapping against the concrete, doesn’t know he’s standing at the foot of her guard chair until she feels two warm hands grab at her waist to pull her to the very edge of the seat.

She looks down and sees Willy already staring up at her, his eyes dark and hungry looking while his hands idly rub up from her knees to her hip bones. Brandy drops the megaphone from her left hand to bury it in his hair. She gives an experimental tug, hard enough to make him wince, which he does with another wide smile. Her right hand is still massaging her pussy, slower now and with longer strokes, letting her middle finger tease around her hole before dragging it all the way up to circle her clit.

“Why’d you stop me? I was doing so good,” she asks. He doesn’t answer right away, distracted by the movement of her hand, so Brandy tugs on his hair again to get his attention.

Willy’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth twitches for a minute, struggling to form words. “You were, you are doing good, I just—I wanted a better view. For teaching purposes.”

Brandy laughs and lets him watch. She’s never seen Willy like this before—slack jawed, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, hard as a rock. It’s definitely working for her. She moves her fingers faster, pussy wet and clenching around nothing while her hips try to buck up against the hold Willy has on them. He’s so close she can feel his breath on her, and just as she’s about to beg for more, something, anything; he pulls her knees up to rest on his shoulders and laves his hot tongue over the fingers circling her clit.

“Oh fuck—” Brandy gasps, moving both hands to grip desperately at his hair while he buries his face in her pussy. “That feels so good, oh my god ,” she moans, letting her hips grind against his mouth as she slides further down into the chair, Willy standing on his tiptoes just to gain the leverage to suck on her harder, run his tongue faster and deeper along her labia. The hot scratch of his beard against her skin is even better than she could have imagined. Willy hums around her clit and she practically screams, heels kicking his shoulder blades while she pulls his hair even harder and begs him not to stop.

Brandy’s right on the edge when she feels one of Willy’s hands move further up her thigh. His tongue does not skip a beat as he moves two hot fingers to sweep curiously over her folds, and she knows she’s done for when he just barely dips his fingertips inside her. She chokes on a gasp and comes, for the first time ever, on Willy’s face.

Almost immediately after she’s finished, he starts laughing. Willy has barely pulled himself away from her, lips smiling against her hot skin when she catches her breath enough to ask, “What’s so funny?”

Brandy pets her hands through his hair, gently pushes him away when he tries to kiss at her oversensitive clit again. She uses her grip to lift his head up so he’ll look at her. Brandy can see his lips and chin shining with her own wetness, and suddenly a second round doesn’t sound too bad.

“You been drinking pineapple juice, Brandy?” he asks through snickering laughter.

“Shut up!” she laughs and pushes his forehead hard enough that he stumbles backwards into the pool. Good thing he knows how to swim.