Behind the Boathouse
An Erotic Short Story by Bre Stahls
The metallic pop of a bottle cap cracked the stillness of the sticky summer air. He tilted the cold can to his lips and took a sip, grinning as the smooth, crisp flavor hit his tongue.
“Oh—so you brought the good beer,” he muttered with a low laugh, glancing toward the shadows where she stood.
Hers was still unopened in her hand, beading with condensation. His own was cheap, warm, and vaguely tinny—now resting beside him on the wooden bench.
“Is this your way of showing me up?” he teased. “Because it’s working. Mine tastes like regret. Yours looks like you thought this through.”
She finally stepped into the moonlight, wearing that same sly smile he remembered from years ago — equal parts charm and mischief.
He leaned back against the bench and exhaled slowly, letting his eyes adjust to her silhouette. “Wasn’t sure you’d come find me. You were holding court up there like a goddamn professional. I figured the family gauntlet would pull you under and I’d be back here solo, drinking questionable beer and talking to myself.”
She sat beside him, barely a whisper of sound as her skin brushed the wood. She smiled. “Yes, but then you showed up. Ruined it—in the best possible way.”
Their knees bumped, and neither moved away.
“You still have that move down,” he murmured.
“Just slide in and act like you’ve been here the whole time.”
She raised her bottle in mock toast. “Timing’s everything.”
He looked out at the water. It glittered faintly under the moonlight, familiar and unchanging.
“Five years, huh?” he said softly. “Since we were both here at the lake?”
She nodded, the motion almost imperceptible.
“I walked past the old dock earlier. Still the same. Same warped boards. Same rusted ladder.” He paused, voice lowering. “But then you show up looking like the adult version of every summer I’ll never forget.”
He quickly shook his head, and her breath caught before she said, “Damn. That was poetic. That your beer hitting?”
They shared a comforting laugh before settling back into the familiar silence—shoulders close, air electric. The sounds of the party drifted faintly down from the house above—laughter, music, the echo of someone jumping into the lake.
He tilted his head, studying her from the corner of his eye. “So. You’re really here. We’re really doing this.”
She turned toward him slightly, her bare leg brushing his again.
“Kinda wild,” she said, her voice dropping half a note. “You gonna kiss me, or just keep letting your knee flirt with mine?”
Her smile widened as he leaned in. The kiss was warm and immediate—soft at first, then deeper. “There it is,” he whispered, exhaling against her mouth. “Still so damn good at that.”
She kissed him again—longer this time—and something warmed between them, low and sure.
“I forgot how easy this feels,” he said, voice rough around the edges. “Not just the kissing. The you-and-me part. Even when we were young and dumb, it always felt like this. Like we already knew just how—”
This kiss was different—less memory, more intent. She climbed onto his lap without warning, and his hands caught her waist with a surprised laugh.
“Shit.” His breath hitched as she rolled her hips against him, just once. He groaned quietly. “You keep that up and I’m gonna blow our cover.”
She did it again, this time slower.
“Jesus,” he murmured into her neck. “That’s not fair.”
She didn’t answer, just trailed her fingers under the hem of his shirt.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “You wanna keep going out here, I’m game...” His fingers brushed over the bare skin of her back, and the soft, delicate cotton of her dress. “But if you want a wall or two... maybe a little more privacy—”
She nodded and backed off of him with a smile.
“Yeah?” He stood, adjusting himself quickly and taking her hand. “Alright. Let’s go.”
They moved toward the old boathouse, half-hidden behind a row of trees as he led the way. Inside, it was exactly as they remembered—dusty and humid, with traces of old rope and sun- warmed fiberglass.
“Jesus, it still smells like sunscreen and mystery mold.” He ran a hand along one of the support beams.
The wooden skiff docked inside rocked gently in the water.
“Come here,” he said, gesturing to it. “Let’s get you in something with a view.”
She gave him a look—amused and intrigued.
“I know it’s not five-star,” he added, taking off his shirt and draping it over the bottom. “But it’s the best seat in the house.”
She climbed into the boat, stretching out across the seat. He followed, kneeling in front of her, hands already moving to her thighs.
“Okay,” he murmured. “No more talking.”
Their mouths met again, hotter now. He reacted instinctively to the way she touched him—fingers grazing his chest, slipping lower.
“Shit,” he groaned. “You remember exactly what you’re doing.”
His hands were strong and slow—curving over her hips. He pushed the flowery pattern of her dress up, slowly exposing her sweat-dampened thighs to the moonlit air.
With his head lowered, he pulled down her soft, lacy panties and placed them carefully along the edge of the seat. Then he slipped his fingers between her legs, finding her warm and wet and pleading with anticipation.
“You’re already soaked,” he murmured. “You looked at me during lunch like you wanted to take me right there on the picnic table.”
He slid two fingers into her, watching her arch beneath him, her lips parting in a breathless gasp.
“Goddamn,” he groaned. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Oh, I have missed this. I have missed you.”
A rasping, squeak of a moan was the only response she could manage.
He continued to meet her aching need—pushing, pulsing, curling his fingers inside her. He built her up until her legs began to tighten and her hips bucked toward him involuntarily.
No longer able to keep his composure, he withdrew his hand and began removing their remaining clothing.
“This dress?” His voice turned husky. “Yeah. It’s coming off. I’ve been trying not to imagine this all day, and I’ve failed. Repeatedly.”
Her hands reached for him in return and she found him hard and ready. He exhaled fast, as if her grip on him had forced the air out of his lungs and into hers. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You don’t get to look like that and do that with your hands.”
He eased her down into the boat, hovering above her.
“Lie back. Yeah. Just like that.”
The moonlight poured through the gaps in the wood slats, painting soft silver stripes across her bare skin.
“God, look at you. Are you ready for me?”
“Yes. Please. I’m so ready.”
Without another word, he slid inside her. Slowly, he buried all of himself within her exquisite warmth.
He moved tenderly at first, then with more intensity as they found their rhythm. As the boat moved in the water, the creaking of the boat began echoing louder and louder with every thrust.
She moaned, and he laughed softly against her throat.
“Keep your voice down,” he teased. “Or they’re gonna think we’re drowning back here.”
She moaned again, louder on purpose.
“Okay, now you’re doing it to mess with me.”
She covered his mouth with three fingers playfully as his eyes sparkled above her hand.
He began to thrust deeper, breath growing rougher. “You’ve wanted this all day, haven’t you? Sitting next to me like you weren’t picturing this—me inside you again. Over and over.
Fireworks cracked in the distance—bright bursts of light through the night sky beyond the boathouse.
“There it is,” he said, grinning against her skin. “Told you this was the best view.”
He paused, breath shaky, and shifted above her.
“Okay, wait. Come here.”
He eased out and pulled her into his lap.
“Climb on. Face the lake. I want you to see it.”
She straddled him backward and slow, facing the spot on the water that reflected the sky’s explosions.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Yeah. Just like that.”
She began to move—slowly, then quickly building to the rhythm they’d found before.
The boat rocked beneath them, each creak threatening to betray their secret.
He grabbed her hips, lifting and guiding her.
“You riding me while the sky lights up... yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted. I want you. I want this.”
Her long hair stuck to her back in damp strands.
He gently swept it over her shoulder, softly caressing her skin with every stroke.
“We’re literally rocking the boat,” he said with a breathless laugh. She moved faster, hips grinding down with desperate precision. “God. You feel...” she groaned.
“Ridiculously perfect.” He said, completing her sentence.
He held her tighter, pulling her flush against him, whispering just for her.
“C’mon, baby. Let go. Give it to me. I want you to come. I want to come with you. Let go. I’ve got you. Please. Come for me.”
When they came, they shattered together—shaking, clinging to each other’s bodies, the sound of fireworks masking their ecstasy.
They stayed like that, tangled, hearts thudding, sweat slicking their skin.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Hi again.”
She leaned back into him, still full of him, still catching her breath.
“Stay right there,” he murmured. “Your skin on mine. Fireworks still going. Don’t move. I don’t want to ruin it.”
She didn’t speak.
Finally, he said quietly, “I missed you. Like hell.”
She answered in a whisper. “Yeah? Then maybe don’t disappear for another five summers.”
He smiled against her neck as she continued.
“Should we just go ahead and plan to meet back here next year?” she asked. “Same time. Same six- pack?”
He murmured against the sweet scent of her skin, voice almost sleepy now. “I don’t know what happens next. I just know I don’t want this to be the end of it.”
She nodded. He felt it.
“Good,” he whispered. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
The last of the fireworks exploded in the sky.
He smirked. “You wanna go back up there looking like we weren’t just... yeah. Me neither.”
He helped her back into her dress and panties before putting his own clothes on.
They sat together in the quiet anonymity of darkness, letting the night’s events hold them indefinitely.
#Vanilla_Audio_Stories #short_story #erotic_short_story #Bre_Stahls
An Erotic Short Story by Bre Stahls
The metallic pop of a bottle cap cracked the stillness of the sticky summer air. He tilted the cold can to his lips and took a sip, grinning as the smooth, crisp flavor hit his tongue.
“Oh—so you brought the good beer,” he muttered with a low laugh, glancing toward the shadows where she stood.
Hers was still unopened in her hand, beading with condensation. His own was cheap, warm, and vaguely tinny—now resting beside him on the wooden bench.
“Is this your way of showing me up?” he teased. “Because it’s working. Mine tastes like regret. Yours looks like you thought this through.”
She finally stepped into the moonlight, wearing that same sly smile he remembered from years ago — equal parts charm and mischief.
He leaned back against the bench and exhaled slowly, letting his eyes adjust to her silhouette. “Wasn’t sure you’d come find me. You were holding court up there like a goddamn professional. I figured the family gauntlet would pull you under and I’d be back here solo, drinking questionable beer and talking to myself.”
She sat beside him, barely a whisper of sound as her skin brushed the wood. She smiled. “Yes, but then you showed up. Ruined it—in the best possible way.”
Their knees bumped, and neither moved away.
“You still have that move down,” he murmured.
“Just slide in and act like you’ve been here the whole time.”
She raised her bottle in mock toast. “Timing’s everything.”
He looked out at the water. It glittered faintly under the moonlight, familiar and unchanging.
“Five years, huh?” he said softly. “Since we were both here at the lake?”
She nodded, the motion almost imperceptible.
“I walked past the old dock earlier. Still the same. Same warped boards. Same rusted ladder.” He paused, voice lowering. “But then you show up looking like the adult version of every summer I’ll never forget.”
He quickly shook his head, and her breath caught before she said, “Damn. That was poetic. That your beer hitting?”
They shared a comforting laugh before settling back into the familiar silence—shoulders close, air electric. The sounds of the party drifted faintly down from the house above—laughter, music, the echo of someone jumping into the lake.
He tilted his head, studying her from the corner of his eye. “So. You’re really here. We’re really doing this.”
She turned toward him slightly, her bare leg brushing his again.
“Kinda wild,” she said, her voice dropping half a note. “You gonna kiss me, or just keep letting your knee flirt with mine?”
Her smile widened as he leaned in. The kiss was warm and immediate—soft at first, then deeper. “There it is,” he whispered, exhaling against her mouth. “Still so damn good at that.”
She kissed him again—longer this time—and something warmed between them, low and sure.
“I forgot how easy this feels,” he said, voice rough around the edges. “Not just the kissing. The you-and-me part. Even when we were young and dumb, it always felt like this. Like we already knew just how—”
This kiss was different—less memory, more intent. She climbed onto his lap without warning, and his hands caught her waist with a surprised laugh.
“Shit.” His breath hitched as she rolled her hips against him, just once. He groaned quietly. “You keep that up and I’m gonna blow our cover.”
She did it again, this time slower.
“Jesus,” he murmured into her neck. “That’s not fair.”
She didn’t answer, just trailed her fingers under the hem of his shirt.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “You wanna keep going out here, I’m game...” His fingers brushed over the bare skin of her back, and the soft, delicate cotton of her dress. “But if you want a wall or two... maybe a little more privacy—”
She nodded and backed off of him with a smile.
“Yeah?” He stood, adjusting himself quickly and taking her hand. “Alright. Let’s go.”
They moved toward the old boathouse, half-hidden behind a row of trees as he led the way. Inside, it was exactly as they remembered—dusty and humid, with traces of old rope and sun- warmed fiberglass.
“Jesus, it still smells like sunscreen and mystery mold.” He ran a hand along one of the support beams.
The wooden skiff docked inside rocked gently in the water.
“Come here,” he said, gesturing to it. “Let’s get you in something with a view.”
She gave him a look—amused and intrigued.
“I know it’s not five-star,” he added, taking off his shirt and draping it over the bottom. “But it’s the best seat in the house.”
She climbed into the boat, stretching out across the seat. He followed, kneeling in front of her, hands already moving to her thighs.
“Okay,” he murmured. “No more talking.”
Their mouths met again, hotter now. He reacted instinctively to the way she touched him—fingers grazing his chest, slipping lower.
“Shit,” he groaned. “You remember exactly what you’re doing.”
His hands were strong and slow—curving over her hips. He pushed the flowery pattern of her dress up, slowly exposing her sweat-dampened thighs to the moonlit air.
With his head lowered, he pulled down her soft, lacy panties and placed them carefully along the edge of the seat. Then he slipped his fingers between her legs, finding her warm and wet and pleading with anticipation.
“You’re already soaked,” he murmured. “You looked at me during lunch like you wanted to take me right there on the picnic table.”
He slid two fingers into her, watching her arch beneath him, her lips parting in a breathless gasp.
“Goddamn,” he groaned. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Oh, I have missed this. I have missed you.”
A rasping, squeak of a moan was the only response she could manage.
He continued to meet her aching need—pushing, pulsing, curling his fingers inside her. He built her up until her legs began to tighten and her hips bucked toward him involuntarily.
No longer able to keep his composure, he withdrew his hand and began removing their remaining clothing.
“This dress?” His voice turned husky. “Yeah. It’s coming off. I’ve been trying not to imagine this all day, and I’ve failed. Repeatedly.”
Her hands reached for him in return and she found him hard and ready. He exhaled fast, as if her grip on him had forced the air out of his lungs and into hers. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You don’t get to look like that and do that with your hands.”
He eased her down into the boat, hovering above her.
“Lie back. Yeah. Just like that.”
The moonlight poured through the gaps in the wood slats, painting soft silver stripes across her bare skin.
“God, look at you. Are you ready for me?”
“Yes. Please. I’m so ready.”
Without another word, he slid inside her. Slowly, he buried all of himself within her exquisite warmth.
He moved tenderly at first, then with more intensity as they found their rhythm. As the boat moved in the water, the creaking of the boat began echoing louder and louder with every thrust.
She moaned, and he laughed softly against her throat.
“Keep your voice down,” he teased. “Or they’re gonna think we’re drowning back here.”
She moaned again, louder on purpose.
“Okay, now you’re doing it to mess with me.”
She covered his mouth with three fingers playfully as his eyes sparkled above her hand.
He began to thrust deeper, breath growing rougher. “You’ve wanted this all day, haven’t you? Sitting next to me like you weren’t picturing this—me inside you again. Over and over.
Fireworks cracked in the distance—bright bursts of light through the night sky beyond the boathouse.
“There it is,” he said, grinning against her skin. “Told you this was the best view.”
He paused, breath shaky, and shifted above her.
“Okay, wait. Come here.”
He eased out and pulled her into his lap.
“Climb on. Face the lake. I want you to see it.”
She straddled him backward and slow, facing the spot on the water that reflected the sky’s explosions.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Yeah. Just like that.”
She began to move—slowly, then quickly building to the rhythm they’d found before.
The boat rocked beneath them, each creak threatening to betray their secret.
He grabbed her hips, lifting and guiding her.
“You riding me while the sky lights up... yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted. I want you. I want this.”
Her long hair stuck to her back in damp strands.
He gently swept it over her shoulder, softly caressing her skin with every stroke.
“We’re literally rocking the boat,” he said with a breathless laugh. She moved faster, hips grinding down with desperate precision. “God. You feel...” she groaned.
“Ridiculously perfect.” He said, completing her sentence.
He held her tighter, pulling her flush against him, whispering just for her.
“C’mon, baby. Let go. Give it to me. I want you to come. I want to come with you. Let go. I’ve got you. Please. Come for me.”
When they came, they shattered together—shaking, clinging to each other’s bodies, the sound of fireworks masking their ecstasy.
They stayed like that, tangled, hearts thudding, sweat slicking their skin.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Hi again.”
She leaned back into him, still full of him, still catching her breath.
“Stay right there,” he murmured. “Your skin on mine. Fireworks still going. Don’t move. I don’t want to ruin it.”
She didn’t speak.
Finally, he said quietly, “I missed you. Like hell.”
She answered in a whisper. “Yeah? Then maybe don’t disappear for another five summers.”
He smiled against her neck as she continued.
“Should we just go ahead and plan to meet back here next year?” she asked. “Same time. Same six- pack?”
He murmured against the sweet scent of her skin, voice almost sleepy now. “I don’t know what happens next. I just know I don’t want this to be the end of it.”
She nodded. He felt it.
“Good,” he whispered. “Then we’ll figure it out.”
The last of the fireworks exploded in the sky.
He smirked. “You wanna go back up there looking like we weren’t just... yeah. Me neither.”
He helped her back into her dress and panties before putting his own clothes on.
They sat together in the quiet anonymity of darkness, letting the night’s events hold them indefinitely.
#Vanilla_Audio_Stories #short_story #erotic_short_story #Bre_Stahls