Gina and I were college dormmates in first year, and we became instant best friends. We did everything together. I had come from far away, and she had grown up only an hour outside our university town, where her family still lived.

We first met on moving day. I didn’t have much when I moved in, as I had flown in with only a suitcase and a backpack. I had pretty much unpacked when she arrived. The door opened and she practically squealed, greeting me with a hug.

“Hi, I’m Gina Sheppard, your new roommate! Excited to live together? This is my dad.”

Gina was taller and slimmer than me, she had her dad’s build, but we were both athletic. I was already on the volleyball team, and she played basketball and track. She had long, wavy blonde hair and mine was dark brown with some honey streaks from the summer sun. It wasn’t her I spent most of that first day watching though, it was her dad.

“Hello Jackie, I’m Dave, Gina’s dad. You girls are going to have a great time away for college,” he introduced.

“Hi Mr. Sheppard… thanks for helping us get set up.”

“Please, call me Dave.”

He shook my hand and I could hardly keep my jaw from dropping. He was a little over 6 foot, broad shouldered, and mostly silvery hair with a few reminders of his previous dark follicles. He must have been at least 50, but he had an allure I couldn’t shake. His handsome smile exposed his dimples and accentuated his strong jaw when he introduced himself. To say he kept things tight is an understatement, he’d no doubt out-compete most of the varsity athletes at our school. I broke eye contact quickly, having to look away to avoid staring or losing my train of thought.

Unlike me, Jackie had plenty of stuff. Mr. Sheppard spent most of the day moving her in. I couldn’t help but gawk at his muscles that popped as he carried in boxes and hung framed pictures. His button down was rolled up to the elbows, his forearm veins mesmerized me as he dexterously used a screwdriver to assemble her wardrobe. That evening he ordered us all dinner, and we sat in the dorm getting to know each other. I compartmentalized my instant crush on Gina’s dad, and focused on the semester ahead.

When Thanksgiving rolled around during our first year, she invited me to what would be my first of many family dinners. I was so relieved to not have to stay alone in the dorms for the long weekend. Their house was amazing, a renovated century home with a huge open-concept kitchen, original beams and floors. The furniture was sleek and modern, their live-edge tree slab dining table comfortably sat 12, which was needed for their extended family who joined us.

We spent most of the day out on the back deck overlooking the rolling hill they had on their property, drinking coolers and soaking in the last of the autumn sun. Watching Mr. Sheppard roast the turkey and man the barbecue for sides was more entertainment than I could ever need. He looked even better than I had recalled.

I spent many more evenings and weekends at Gina’s family’s house throughout university. We’d often head up after our last classes on Friday and usually beat her dad home from work if he was in town. My favourite moment was watching him come in the door in his crisp suit. We had a direct view to the front entrance from the kitchen island where Gina and I usually sat, studying and gossiping. He’d set his things down and shimmy out of his coat and suit jacket, chest puffing into his shirt as he worked his chiseled shoulders out of the layers.

Gina and I would study for a few hours, eat dinner with her family, and either head back to school to go dancing at the campus nightclub or fall asleep watching movies in the TV room. Her family house became my home away from home, and having the domestic comforts – the hot tub, the home gym, the private yard, was a luxury compared to dorm life.

Although I pretended to prefer going out, drinking with guys my age and dancing the night away, I honestly would always rather sleep over at Gina’s. Not only were the beds more comfortable than our dorm bunks, but if I was lucky, in the morning I’d catch a glimpse of Mr. Sheppard heading out for his Saturday morning long distance runs. I couldn’t get enough of the way his thick thighs and round ass filled his Lululemon shorts. I’d be lying if I said I never pleasured myself to thoughts of him, what his powerful body could do to me, what an experienced lover I imagined him to be.

Every summer throughout university, a group of friends all headed up to the Shepard’s summer home for a few days. It was a sprawling lake-front property with resort amenities. Aside from a few kitschy cottage décor items, the lake house was nicer than most houses I’d ever been in, complete with designer furniture, custom finishings, and wine cellar.

Over the years different friends and boyfriends tagged along, but Gina and I were always the core pair. It was always a trip full of sun-soaked, bikini-clad days on the dock and late nights playing drinking games around the fire. They were some of the best days of college. The year of our graduation, we had our final trip up to the lake house. This year was different, we were heading off in different directions after summer.

This year, Mr. Sheppard happened to be up at the lake house at the same time as us. We usually had the place to ourselves, her parents trusted us, and we were all pretty responsible adults. But this year Mr. Sheppard was inspecting the new renovations recently done in the guesthouse on the back of the property with the site manager, and needed to overlap with our trip. He promised to not bother us, he’d sleep in the guesthouse and stay out of our way, aside from the offer to cook us dinner and take us on boat rides. I had no complaints. He had been more than generous to lend us the summer home every year, and I desperately hoped for a chance to thank him for all of the meals he’d fed me.

That weekend I stayed in my bikini practically the entire time, straining to see if I caught Mr. Sheppard’s attention. I hopped out of the lake after a swim on the second afternoon, it was a sweltering day.

“Anyone want anything?” I offered over my shoulder to the group, no one responded. Everyone was groggy and hungover from our first night partying at the cottage. I wrapped a towel around my waist and trudged up the hill to the house, heading for the fridge to grab more beer. I rung the water out of my hair, droplets ran down my neck and shoulders. A few drops fell from my temples and collected on my full breasts, barely covered by the bikini top.

I was surprised to see Mr. Sheppard in the main house, taking a well-deserved break from his work to refresh himself with a cold beer. He was shirtless, his brow glistening with sweat, his day-old stubble was growing into a beard, he looked as sexy and rugged as I’d ever seen him.

“Hey Mr. Sheppard!” I exclaimed. I clearly caught him off guard, he looked spooked and stepped backwards when I announced my presence, but then relaxed and smiled when he saw me. “Why don’t you come join us? It’s way to hot to work! You should cool down in the lake,” I offered. It was hard to sound innocent when my intentions were not at all.

“Jackie, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Dave. Maybe in a bit. Did you come here for beer?”

“Yes, please!” I asked in way too high-pitched a voice.

I couldn’t help but revert to being a flirty schoolgirl in his presence. He handed me a cold beer, and I grabbed his entire hand at first, before slipping my fingers off his and onto the can, looking him straight in the eye.

Mr. Sheppard broke the silence, “Hey Jackie - have you ever been on the jet ski before?”

“No actually, I’ve always been too afraid to drive it by myself. Gina knows how to do it so well, I think I’d just crash or something,” I laughed too hard, causing my tits to jiggle. We both paused for a second and bit our tongues to avoid saying anything we’d regret.

He continued, “You’ve got to try it! You can’t come up here all these years and never jet ski! I’ll take you out later, I just need to shower.”

“Just jump in the lake! No need to shower,” I practically begged. I could tell he was having a hard time looking away from my figure. I reveled in the attention.

“Oh fine, let me pack up my work, the site manager is done for the day anyways. Just for a bit though.” We smiled at each other for a moment too long, time froze as I stared into his grey-blue eyes.

“Cheers,” I offered, cutting through the palpable tension. We clinked our cold beer cans together. I turned on my heels and skipped back down to the dock.

A few minutes later, Mr. Sheppard joined us in his swim trunks. He dove into the water next to me, I soaked up every splash off his body. He ran his hands through his hair, slicking it out of the way.

“Want to go for that ride?” he offered. I was so enamored it took me a second to realize he was talking about the jet ski.

I climbed up the ladder out of the lake in front of him, swaying my hips and plump ass in his face a little more than usual. We met on the dock and he walked over to the jet ski.

“Hop on,” he invited. Everyone else was tanning or reading magazines or floating in inner tubes, nursing hair of the dog beers. No one could be bothered to even notice us disappear.

Mr. Sheppard climbed onto the seat and I slid in behind him, pressing a bit too close into him. We took off and I held on tighter than I probably had to. My nipples were rock hard, there was no way he didn’t feel them dig into his back, scraping his skin. My crotch pressed into his ass, the vibrations from the motor tickled my clit and aroused me in ways I’d never felt. I squeezed his tight core, pressing my palms into his abs, feeling each muscular ridge.

The jet ski was thrilling, but straddling his taut body was exhilarating. It took everything in me not to cum from the vibrations on my already wet cunt, I hoped if he noticed any wetness he’d write it off to lake water. I peeked around his frame and noticed a bulge in his trunks. I was so turned on it didn’t feel like we should even be in public, but I was glad we got away from the group for a few minutes alone.

In the middle of the lake, he slowed down and turned off the motor. We floated aimlessly for a few seconds.

“Want to go for a dip? I’m so hot again already,” he suggested. I realized I was still clinging to his torso for dear life. I let go and slid back. I swung a leg around so I could launch off the side of the jet ski, diving into the chilly water. The cold water abated my burning hot lust, thankfully.

Mr. Sheppard was right behind me, he practically landed on top of me, his arms grazing my legs underwater. My body was still tense from almost coming to orgasm on the back of the jet ski from the vibrations. His touch hit a nerve, he effected me deeper than he had ever before. We came up for air.

“Sorry about that!” he apologized.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I responded honestly.

We hovered in the water, too close to ignore each other. I circled around him in a graceful breaststroke and he leaned into a back float with his head cocked towards me. We silently admired each other. Nothing was going to happen out here in the open water, and there was a certain freedom in enjoying that moment.

Eventually I plunged down under the water, sinking and swimming away from him. I popped my head back up.

“Are you cooled down now?” I asked from further away.

“Yeah, if we head back soon I can start making dinner.”

I tread water and watched him lift himself up easily with his mighty biceps, balancing effortlessly back into the jet ski. I swam up to the side and without a word, he offered his hand. I took it and he lifted me easily, first by the hand and then grabbing my waist as soon as I was high enough out of the water. He clung to my smooth stomach, my breasts pressed into his side as he swiveled me back into the seat behind him. I knew I’d replay that moment later in my mind, in private, as I touched myself. As we rode back, I was still incredibly turned on and readjusted furiously to avoid any more sexual frustration from the jet ski on my cunt and Mr. Sheppard’s incredible body between my legs.

Back at the dock, he took my hand to help me off the jet ski. I tripped on my way off and fell into him, accidentally pressing my stomach into his groin. We both knew I felt his massive bulge as he caught me. Had no one else been around, I don’t know what would have happened. But his daughter and the rest of our friends were metres away, albeit in various states of hangovers and sunstroke. We looked away from each other, both finding distractions. I wandered back to my towel on the dock and he turned towards the house. I lay in the sun to dry off, but I couldn’t kill the buzz in my body.

After a few minutes, I couldn’t sit still anymore. I grabbed my towel and headed back up to the house. Everyone was still down at the lake. Mr. Sheppard was nowhere to be seen. I slid into my room, successfully avoiding him. I locked the door behind me as I stripped off my bikini. Without wasting a second, I lay back on the bed and brought my left index finger to my clit. It was fully erect, throbbing and swollen. I stroked a few soft circles, spreading my juices all over my pussy. Oh fuck, it felt nice. I needed relief immediately.

With that, I started groping madly at my bundle of nerve endings. I was already halfway to orgasm, I just needed the job finished. My other hand grasped at my breasts. I pinched my nipples hard, I needed maximum stimulation for how aroused I was in this very second. I flipped onto all fours on the bed, feeling confident with my sweet ass in the air and my tits pushed into the bedding. I brought both hands to my centre, one held my folds open while the other frantically flicked and stroked my clit with as much intensity as I could handle.

I pictured Mr. Sheppard doing the same thing, satisfying his erection alone in the guesthouse. I imagined his juicy cock, his devilishly handsome face, his capable body. I recalled every detail of the moment he hoisted me by the waist, thumbs pressing into my supple belly, controlling my entire petite frame in his grip. I fantasized about his head between my legs, his tongue driving me off a cliff of stimulation. With that, I reached a euphoric state of climax. My body shook the whole way across, my legs clasped together over my hand when the touch was too much. I closed my eyes and basked in the fleeting surge of pleasure. My moans were muffled by the pillow I had shoved my face into, but I wasn’t absolutely sure that no one had heard me. My body was satisfied with this orgasm, it was the best I could do for now.

I used my towel to wipe up the sopping mess I’d made, a trail of cum dripped down my legs as I stood up, still shaky. I threw on some yoga shorts and a bralette and headed back down to take a nap on the dock, I needed to check out for a bit.

The rest of the evening was a beer-fuelled blur. We devoured the burgers Mr. Sheppard grilled for us, but other than thanking him for dinner I barely saw or spoke to him. He retreated to his work for the most part. After the nightly fire had died down and everyone was in their rooms, I lay awake. Maybe it was my afternoon nap, or maybe it was the racy fantasy of Mr. Sheppard fucking me in every conceivable position that I couldn’t get out of my mind, but I couldn’t find sleep.