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Night Swimming	By : ravenwoman Category: Individual Celebrities > Johnny Depp Views: 3567 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Johnny Depp. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Night Swimming
- 2-Night Swimming chapter 2
- 1
- 2
He strolled up the walk, watching the concrete in front of his boots, jangling his room key in one hand, holding his cigarette in the other. The early morning light was almost blinding, the heat already oppressive. He glanced at the pool, empty, as he mounted the stairs. The room was cool and dark, and he fell back onto the bed gratefully. He dozed, dreamed, and when he awoke, he was hard and hungry. Had he eaten last night? He couldn’t recall. He HAD fucked, not last night (last night he dimly remembered flirting with some tight-looking little blond in a leather mini-skirt at some club on sixth street, but he’d become rapidly drunk and she’d become rapidly gone, taken by some less inebriated rival) but the night before, he recalled it well. Well, for the most part. A little fuzzy around the edges, but…
He pushed himself up and out of the bed, tugging at the crotch of his jeans. Sarah, that was her name. He had her number in the pocket of his jacket. He peed and flushed then inspected himself in the mirror. A little the worse for wear, but not enough to write home about, he decided. Maybe he should call her, this Sarah girl.
He returned to the front room and considered the almost empty bottle and the fresh glass on the dresser. Maybe just one, then maybe a swim. Sounds like a plan, he thought. But what about the ice? Shit.
He pocketed his key, snagged the plastic bucket from the dresser, and left the room, heading for the ice machine downstairs.
Someone else was already there, bending over, filling her bucket, and he waited, impatiently at first, then not minding so much, enjoying the view. She turned and rose, and it hit him, Sarah. Her.
"Hey, hi," he said, feeling both put on the spot and excited.
"Hi." She shook her ice and moved aside, motioning for him to assume his place at the front of the line. He did, filled his bucket, and turned to face her.
"Uh, sorry about last night. I mean, night before last," he said. "I was, well…"
She caught his eyes and pulled them up to her level. "Sorry? For what?" She shook her ice again and smiled. "I thought it was wonderful. I’m not sorry. I just didn’t want to wake you."
He searched her carefully for sarcasm then said, "It was, yeah." He looked down, at a loss.
She was watching him, thinking. "Well, you were sort of, well, drunk. It’s ok," she rushed on, "It was good. Really. But….:"
"But what?" he asked, not sure he wanted to hear.
"But," she replied, moving closer to him, her eyes going soft and predatory, "I think it might be even better sober. I can’t help but wonder." She smiled, and turned to go.
"Wait!" He called out before thinking, and when she looked back, waiting for the rest, he found himself scrambling for it. "Come to my room. Or we could go to yours, I don’t care. Tonight. Let’s test your hypothesis." He grinned winningly, hoping it didn’t come off as dopey or desperate, and awaited her response.
"Your room. In 20 minutes." She glanced down at the ice bucket he held, and added, "Don’t get drunk. I can make you feel WAY better than that."
Oh fuck. Her words went straight to his sex and jerked it to attention. He rushed back to his room, tossed the bucket into the bathroom sink, and paced around, tidying up. Did he have time for a shower? Did he need one? He sniffed himself and decided no, he was ok. He sat on the bed, absently stroking his boner through his jeans. Then he realized; no condom! FUCK! He’d used his backup for their first encounter.
Before he could think further, there was a knock at the door, and he rose to answer it.
"Hey there, " he said, "Come in."
She did, leaning in to kiss him. Just a brief, friendly kiss, but with a touch of barely restrained passion in it. He felt his cock pulse and his heart leap in his chest.
"I was going to call you today," he said, rubbing her arms. She smiled and drew him closer, moving against his erection sensuously. He lowered his head and kissed her, softly at first, then, as she responded, more deeply. All the while, she kept pressing and sliding her body on his, until both their breathing was rapid and they were both running their hands over one another. She had one hand under his shirt, playing with a nipple, sending electric jolts through him, her other kneaded his ass, making him want to thrust.
He squeezed her naked breast through her shirt and slid his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, over her hip and to the small of her back, pressing her tighter to him.
He slid his lips down to her neck, and she tilted her head back with a sigh, exposing the area to him. He pulled her shirt over her head and suckled her. He brought his hand down to her belly, then into her shorts, feeling the beginnings of her hair under his fingers. "Take these off," he panted.
She undid the button, slid the zipper down, and stepped out of them. No underwear. He stripped his tee shirt off, undid his jeans, was about to push them down, then stopped.
"I don’t have anything." He began buttoning up. "There’s a gas station on the corner. They probably…" he looked up to see her bending over, digging in the pocket of her shorts. She came up holding a small foil square, grinning.
"Oh, thank God," he laughed, and pulled his fly open with one yank, then kicked his jeans aside. Before he could slip his shorts off, she was there, doing it herself, slowly, rubbing her palm over his cock through the cotton, making him groan. Then she was on her knees, holding him in one hand, her mouth on him.
"Oh jesus, oh, I’m not gonna last!" She was running her tightened lips down and up the length of his shaft slowly, applying gentle suction to his head with her tongue. The sensation was incredible, unbearable, his climax imminent. He wanted her to stop, he thought, but instead he pumped with her, his body demanding she go on, keep on, oh yes, oh god, don’t stop!
When she did stop, he was gasping and shaking. She tightened her grip around the base of his cock until it was almost painful, and there was a moment when he felt he would come, had to come, WAS coming, but then it receded, his erection still massive and urgent.
He opened his eyes and saw her, still kneeling on the floor below him, staring up at his face. She still held him, more loosely now, and her other hand was stroking her clit. The sight made him crazy, and he pushed her backwards, dropping to his knees above her on the carpet. He reached behind him and got the condom, tearing it open and slipping it on carefully, hissing through his teeth. She continued touching herself, spreading her legs wider. She slid one finger into herself, then out, parting her glistening lips, then back up to rub her erect nib. He watched, rapt, throbbing with his need, more excited than he felt he could bear. She watched him watching her, saw how her display was affecting him, and felt her orgasm rising.
"Make me come, Johnny, I want you to make me come."
Her words seemed to break a spell, and he leaned over her, gently pushing her hand aside and bringing the head of his cock to press into her wetness. He moved over her, sliding himself around the same areas she’d been stimulating. He lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking hard, then flicking softly.
She began thrusting upward, rubbing herself harder and faster on him, saying "oh yes, oh, oh god," and finally, "fuck me, fuck me now, oh jesus, I’m coming!"
He brought himself to her opening, felt her spasming around his tip, and rammed into her, to the hilt, forcing his way through her pulsing tightness, the pleasure so great he felt he was coming already. But his orgasm was still ahead, he could feel it approaching, growing, and pushed towards it, once, twice, again and again.
"Oh, god!" She cried, "Don’t stop…oh!"
He couldn’t have stopped had he wanted to, not had there been a gun to his head. He would have raced the bullet to his release. And suddenly he was there, and it was like a runaway train. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, sucking in air, riding the sensation helplessly. When it slowed, he lay there on top of her, waiting for his heart to either settle or stop, breathing heavily. She held him to her with arms and legs, and laid tender kisses on his neck. Finally, he raised himself on his arms and smiled down at her.
"WAY better," he said, then, "Thank you."
"My pleasure," she replied, and slid out from under him. "Ouch, carpet burn." She touched her bottom gingerly. She picked up her clothes and bent down to kiss him. "But I’m not sorry."
She dressed and went to the door, turning back with her hand on the knob.
"If you feel like a swim later, join me, ok?"
"Ok. I will." He watched her go, then got up and headed for the shower. He poured the last of the melting ice into the sink and turned on the shower, thinking, sounds like a plan.
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Night Swimming