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Bermuda

By: Ed0613



She loved to play nude in the warm, ocean surf.

She had to be careful where she did it though. Most people here in Bermuda were prudish and didn't look on the human body, even one as nice as hers, as a work of art. 

Tomorrow would be her 21st birthday, so today she got up early, even before the warm summer sun was up. A short drive to a secluded beach at daylight where she removed her clothes and went for a quick swim, then a frolic in the breaking surf. She was so intent on her pleasure she didn't notice the handsome young man walking down the beach towards her with a fishing rod in hand. When she finally saw him he was almost between her and her car. She had no option but to dash into the deeper water and squat down with only her head showing.

He was smiling when he said, "I hope I didn't startle you, I didn't expect to see anyone here this early in the morning, especially someone as beautiful as you."

"I didn't think anyone would be here this early either. Would you please turn your back so I can get to my car?"

"If I don't, how long will you stay in the water?"

"Come on now, I'm getting cold." 

"If I turn my back for you, will you come back and talk to me when you are dressed?"

"Yes, if you promise not to peek."

"I'll try, but I am not sure I can resist the temptation to see such a beautiful sight."

He turned his back, she ran for the car and he peeked. He was taken by her gracefulness. She was tall and slender. Although her hips and breasts were small, everything was really in perfect proportion and only went to accentuate her overall beauty. He quickly looked away when she turned around and he wasn't sure if she knew that he had been peeking.

She came walking back down to the beach wearing very short shorts, a T-shirt with obviously no bra and carrying her shoes in her hand.

"Did you peek?"

"Of course not!"

"Too bad, somehow it sort of excited me."

"Do you like for people to see you nude?"

"I never thought much about it one way or the other before, but somehow today, it gave me a thrill to think that you were watching me as I ran back to my car."

"Well, it excites me to think about you running around on the beach nude. Would you like to pose nude for me?"

"Are you a photographer?"

"Just an amateur. Would you pose for me?"

"I wouldn't mind but not here, the beach will be alive with people in just a little while. Would you like for me to come to your house with you?"

"No, I live with my mother and I don't think she would understand. How about if we go out on my boat?"

"Sure, let's go."

She followed him to the Marina in her car where he stopped in front of a very nice sail boat, about 36 feet long.

"I thought I knew everybody in your age bracket here in Bermuda. My name is Melanie. My dad manages the Bermuda Hilton hotel."

"My name is Philip McGruder. I've just come out from England to work at Price Waterhouse. I have only been here three months so I haven't had much of an opportunity to visit the social scene, between getting settled and buying this boat. Do you sail?"

"A little."

"That's okay, we will just motor out and see how it goes from there."

In 15 minutes they had cleared the harbor and were motoring slowly west. She was standing on top of the cabin holding onto the mast, with her head back and eyes closed, letting the gentle breeze blow through her hair, when he said, "Feel free to take off your clothes if you want to."

"Okay, I will if you are sure that you don't mind, how about you?"

"If I do, it may be a little embarrassing."

"Not to worry, I've seen at all before." With that, she began to strip. "Besides, I think it is sexy for a man to be excited"

As he began to remove his clothes he said, "Well then, you will think I am the sexiest man alive."

She resumed her stand on top of the cabin adjacent to the mast with her back to him. He thought he was excited before, now it was almost unbearable. She was a vision of beauty, tall, slim, completely uninhibited and comfortable with her body. She knew she was beautiful, and she probably knew what she was doing to him. Her feet were about shoulder level to him and about five feet forward so that he was looking up at her gorgeous ass.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He set a generally westerly course and clicked the auto pilot on, scrambled out of the cockpit and up behind her on the cabin roof. He restrained the impulse to prod her with his erect cock and instead the only thing that he allowed to touch her was his lips on her neck.

She melted backwards into his arms but now there was no preventing his hard member from coming into contract with her rump.

"Oh, how sexy!" She laughed as she turned around, and put her arms around his neck.

Their lips met, and her breasts boring into his chest added more fuel to the fire that was no longer just smoldering within him. She was grinding her hips against his rock hard penis and probing his mouth with her tongue. He was not the only one that was beginning to feel the heat of the situation. When they finally broke, her breath was coming in little gasps. Without another word she took him by the hand and led him down into the cockpit, into the cabin, and forward into the main stateroom. On the way by the helm station he turned off the ignition switch and just let the boat drift.

In the main stateroom he again put his arms around her from behind and kissed her on the neck, only this time his hands were feeling and caressing her breasts with the hard little nipples. He turned her around and sat her down on the bed. Kneeling in front of her, she let out and audible gasp when he took her breast in his mouth. She clutched his head to her, enjoying the feeling of his tongue swirling and his lips sucking on the tender nipples. His right hand strayed down between her legs and he was delighted to find that she was every bit as aroused as he was.

He gently pushed her backwards onto the bed and lowered his head to partake of the nectar he had discovered. A shiver went through her entire body when his tongue came in contact with her clitoris. A couple of thrusts in and out and she captured his head with her legs, pulling him as hard as she could into her. It began as a low animal like moan deep within her and slowly build until it was a shriek of ecstasy. She was quivering when she released the death grip on his head and each time he touched her with his tongue she jerked, shivered, and gave a sharp little intake of breath.

"Oh my God, I didn't know it could be that good. I think I should do that to you now. Come up here and lie down next to me."

He had always been obedient and minded well, so the did what he was told. She used all of her finesse as she carefully positioned herself to reciprocate and give him the same pleasure that he had given her. His cock was long, straight and very hard. It had more than a few drops of pre-cum on the end. Tentatively, she touched it with her finger and brought it to her mouth to taste it's salty sweetness. Finding that she liked it, she greedily began to lick this wondrous liquid from the end of his dick.

When it was gone, she engulfed his manhood and commenced to try to extract more of this sweet honey from him. It only took a few minutes for her to get far more than she had bargained for. She had never tasted male cum before but she didn't let that stop her. When he spewed himself into her she greedily savored each drop, using her finger to capture the little bit that escaped her mouth.

With him still flat on his back on the bunk, she quickly switched positions, poised herself directly above his still erect cock and slowly lowered herself onto him. Although she had only done it a few times this seemed like the most natural thing she had ever done. Each thrust of his cock into her wet pussy brought renewed pleasures. She began to increase the tempo until he was afraid that she would fall completely off. Harder and harder she rode, up and down, back and forth, completely oblivious to everything except the carnal pleasures that she was experiencing. She didn't notice when his entire body stiffened but she did feel the jet of his hot cum shooting inside of her. It was the trigger she needed. She had the most intense orgasm of her life. Her climax was so complete she didn't even have the strength to dismount and just wilted on top of him.

They lay like that in the gently rocking boat for quite some time. She finally roused him and said "I would like to do that again."

So they did it again, and again, and again.

Authors note; This story is based on the Limerick;

There was a young lady from Bermuda
Who met a young man named McGruder
She thought it was shrewd
To be wooed in the nude
But McGruder was shrewder and screwed her!

Bermuda Night



It’s an unusually hot night in Bermuda; the air isn't circulating well in the bedroom and we'd both been sweating all day playing tourist all over the island. It’s just warm enough that we can’t seem to get to sleep, even tired as we are. Neither one of has any clothes on, but the heat makes the idea of touching repelling. After an interminable time trying to find nonexistent currents of cooler air, you decided get up and take a cold shower to cool off. You enter the bathroom and I slowly get out of bed and move to the bathroom door. You left it slightly ajar, and I take in the erotic sight of your sexy, trim body as you get ready for the shower. Your perfect firm ass is at the perfect angle to accentuate your ample curves. Your breasts are only partially visible as you adjust the water, but the implied shape is enough to make my penis start to harden. I watch you get in the shower and am about to enter the bathroom when you turn to sit on the shower bench. You adjust the water so it plays gently on you and raise one leg. 

I watch with a smile as you let your fingers wander over your breasts as the water falls upon you. One hand strays down to your eager pussy and I can tell you are enjoying yourself, as you lean your head back and moan low in your throat. I watch long enough that my erection is pointing me into the bathroom. I realize that I had begun stroking myself slowly while watching you. I quietly sneak into the bathroom and open the shower door to join you. You look up and, with a playful smile, stand and open your arms to me. Moving under the cool water is pleasant and soon we are enfolded in each other’s arms while water runs over us both.

I kiss you softly on the lips and run my hands down your back; my hug turning into a more erotic caress. The feeling of the water sliding down your gorgeous body makes me so hot. I start to rub the smoothness of your skin; the water falling on our bodies is cool to the touch, but a different heat between us is growing. Your nearness is only making me harder.

You are pressed against me, you feeling my manhood pressing against you, and me feeling your hard nipples. I push us gently back against the wall and kiss you with even more passion. I then move and kiss and lick your neck, tasting you and the water as my hands start to wander. Your arms around me, your hands slide up and down my back and thighs. You let one hand slide down my legs to in-between my thighs, then to up, and I feel you take me in your hand. How hot you make me! I know that, already, you are more than ready for me. 

You slowly slide your hand back farther, feeling my balls, cupping them in your hand. You wrap your hand around my cock and stroke it slowly, sensuously, making me even harder. I look in your eyes, knowing what you want, and slowly nudge you downwards. I want to feel your mouth on my cock. You are in a playful mood so you kiss my nipples first, licking and nibbling them. You start to lick lower and then tease my belly button. As you lick lower and lower, your hand is still stroking my rock hard cock. 

You get down to my cock, kiss the head, and then move and tease me by kissing my legs, all the way down one and then back up the other. You are still stroking me, and the water is now falling on your head. You take your hands and push the hair out of your face so that I can watch and see everything. You then get to my cock, lifting it up against my stomach to expose my balls. You kiss them softly, nipping slightly and then kissing and licking more. Then you take my cock in your hand and look me in the eyes while slowly licking the shaft of my cock. Kissing the head, you get all my pre-cum first and then take my cock at once deep and then pull back. Doing that makes me open my eyes, wanting to watch you wrap your lips around my hard cock. You are still looking at me and you see that the teasing is making me crazy. The feeling of my cock against your tongue is heaven. You take my cock in your mouth and slowly move back and forth on me, letting me feel your tongue exploring my shaft. You start to suck me harder and harder. I can feel that tensing feeling that precedes my orgasm. You're moving more quickly, and starting to stroke me at the same time, cupping my balls and stroking and sucking all at once. I reach down and squeeze your breast. 

You look up, knowing that I want to come inside you. I always love to come inside you. You let my cock come out of your mouth with an audible “pop”, then slowly stand. I sit down against the shower ledge and you straddle my lap. My cock is pointing up at your pussy and it’s oozing pre-cum again in anticipation of being inside you. You made me so close that I could nearly come just thinking about being inside you. You gently position my penis so it is just at the opening of your pussy, and then firmly slide down onto me. We both moan in pleasure as your pussy caresses my cock as you envelop me. Sitting at last, with my cock firmly buried in you, we kiss some more. Slowly, you move just a little. Then you move a little more. You are keeping me on the ragged edge of orgasm, and you know I love this feeling. You pull back just enough to look me in the eyes, and my hands go to caress your phenomenal breasts as we stare into each other’s eyes. You move up until I am almost out of you, then lower back down. I start to moan and relish every minute and every move that you make. You start to moan as well, and fight the urge to throw your head back and close your eyes. You want to maintain eye contact with me, the one you love. With you gazing deeply into my eyes, my orgasm is coming fast. I start to want to move faster, sensing we are both getting close. We move together, in and out, working together to make me drive deeply into you with each thrust. We pump faster and faster and suddenly you feel my shaft swell and hot cum shoot deeply inside you. Surge after surge fills you until cum leaks from around my rod, dripping down to mingle with the water headed for the drain. Our eyes never left each other.

Later we rest in bed, both of us exhausted and wanting to be held. The air has cooled just enough, and we are wet enough, that we should be able to sleep now. I lay next to you and suck on a nipple that is still tender and erect. I gently finger-tip caress your breasts and say, "Thank you.."



Bermuda Run



Cord Whitley indeed. I was still chuckling to myself when I perched on one of the stools surrounding the piano in the Schooner bar late in the night the cruise ship departed from the Baltimore pier. His photo had been on the poster at the door to the bar—I had purposely passed by it several times during the afternoon and evening. He was quite a hunk, but I just didn't see the piano player as a Cord Whitley.

I was pleasantly surprised, though, on entering the bar to find that, from what I could hear at this distance, both his playing and his voice were smooth. Only a couple of stools were available when I sat down. There was a couple, him older and awestruck and her a young blonde, possibly honeymooners but just as likely boss and secretary, who were so engaged with each other that they could just as easily taken one of the tables rather than sitting right at the piano. Cord Whitley wasn't the center of attraction for them. But there were two other unattached women, as I was, who quite obviously were zeroing in on the sexy-looking piano player. One was about my age and showing it—certainly much more than I've ever permitted myself to go to pot. I didn't consider her competition. But there was a younger, giggly woman too. I hoped that her giggling would wear on him before his last set of the night was over.

I had timed my visit. It was all about strategy. I wasn't new to this—certainly not new to the four-day Bermuda run from Baltimore. I won the trip regularly, twice a year, on the strength of my real estate sales. And I always came alone. I looked at the June-October couple. That had been George and me once. Now George only looked at blueprints for his construction company in Philadelphia with that sort of awe in his eyes.

Well, fuck George, I thought. He was moving from November into December and I'd kept no later than August, which was no mean feat.

"And you, Madame, is there some favorite music of yours that I might play?"

The voice was a rich, smooth baritone. The young chocolate-colored hunk with the dazzling smile and the masculine bald head was addressing me.

"I doubt that," I answered, giving him a friendly smile—coquettish looks were for later, depending on how this progressed. "My favorite music is locked in time. I enjoy soft, romantic piano music from the fifties and sixties. Not that that's my era, of course." I wanted to establish that right off the bat. We wouldn't be discussing, though, that my era of the late seventies wasn't much later.

"Try me," he answer with an easy grin that had me almost melting on the spot. "Some of my favorites are from that era as well."

I tried him out on "Laura," which any cocktail lounge crooner should be able to handle, and he handled it quite well. I was becoming increasingly interested in what he could handle well.

As the set moved on, at my request he moved through "Ebb Tide," "Deep Purple," and "The Shadow of Your Smile." He seemed to be enjoying himself as much as I was, and he was only coming to me for song choices now, interspersing them with more recently popular and more upbeat tunes, mindful of his responsibility to the others in the bar. It was getting late and the bar crowd was thinning out. He and I were alone at the piano now, his focus on my song tastes having driven away the competition, I'm sure, although I was barely aware of them drifting away. The couple was long gone, unable to keep their hands off of each other before they left. I imagined them in their cabin already, fucking, and I wished them Godspeed. It wasn't any less my goal for the night.

"I have time for only a few more," Cord said. "This will end my set for tonight and then I'll be free."

Was that his way of signaling that our goals were the same?

"How about 'Strangers in the Night' to close out the evening?" I asked. "Are you up for that?"

I didn't know if he'd catch the double entendre invitation.

He grinned and asked, "You mean the old Frank Sinatra song from the movie 'A Man Could Get Killed'?"

He'd picked up on the invitation. "Not necessarily the song," I answered. "And I'm surprised you know the movie title—although, I, for one, don't bite. Unless, of course, I get excited." I was extending a hand and laying a cabin pass card and a hundred-dollar bill on the top of the piano under his nose. Others had tipped him, of course, but no one was tipping him that much just to tinkle the keys.

He looked down at that and then up at me. His grin said it all.

I was in a junior suite—by myself. At the cruise check-in desk the woman hadn't even lifted an eyebrow when I asked for a second pass card that only opened the door to my cabin. I was a well-heeled, expensively dressed and made up woman in her late fifties traveling alone in a single cabin. I'm sure they had figured out the needs of this type of traveler.

"Cabin 1966," I said.

"Ah, a very good year," he said. "That was the year the song came out."

As I left the bar, he was playing "Strangers in the Night" and crooning, "Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wond'ring in the night, what were the chances . . ."

He must have known that I would want to run my hands over those bulging chocolate-brown muscles of his chest and biceps as soon as we were alone, because he was taking off his shirt as he was closing the cabin door behind him. I had stripped down to my panties and bra and high heels. I looked damn good like this—I'd paid a fortune and sweated off god knows how many pounds to still look this good.

The heels were necessary because he towered over me. My lips only came to his sternum, between two bulging pecs, when we came together, but when I lifted my face up, he already was there, offering and demanding a deep kiss.

He was wasting no time. The kiss was possessive, the embrace was breath taking, and the hand was reaching down, cupping and squeezing my muff. A finger was inserted in the leg hole of my panties and sliding through the folds of my labia and finding and rubbing my clit. This black beauty knew his business—which wasn't all playing the piano.

I could feel the insistence of him at my belly, and after luxuriating in a series of moans for what he was doing with that finger, I sank to my knees and unzipped his trousers. The erect cock that I pulled out of his fly was as long and thick and black as I had hoped. The bulb was gigantic and pinkish brown in contrast to the nearly jet-black shaft. He grunted and grabbed the back of my head to help guide me as I closed my lips over the cock head and cupped his low-hanging ball sac and gave it a little squeeze.

When I rose and stepped back from him, I unhooked my bra and tossed it aside. His eyes went big, as did his dazzling white-tooth smile, and I heard a little growl rising from deep inside him. I would let him take care of the panties himself.

He quickly unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers and briefs to the floor, stepping out of them, not that elegantly, as everything about his body and the way he was trembling told me that he was happy to see me.

Cord reached out with a hand, which touched my skin, causing me to groan at the heat of the touch, below my throat, and I fell back on the bed, which was just behind me. The first thing he did was to slide my panties down off my legs and toss them in the general direction the bra had sailed away. And then, the growl louder than before he knelt between my thighs, which he had wrapped his forearms around and spread, and was grazing in my muff. I moaned and groaned for him, writhing on the bed in ecstasy at the expert mealtime technique he was displaying.

And I experienced my first orgasm of the evening, of the cruise. Not the last, I was determined. And precisely the reason I took these short cruises to Bermuda twice a year.

Knowing I was down off the chandeliers for now, he kissed his way up my body, stopping for a long vacation at my breasts, which he seemed to enjoy particularly. So did I. The journey ended with him straddling my chest and presenting his cock again for mouth play. I let him do the driving. He was holding my wrists above my head and spread with his strong hands, and I just lifted my head off of the surface of the bed and let him slide the up-curved cock in and stroke at will until he felt sufficient hard again.

He fucked me bent over the bed on my belly, from behind, in long, slow strokes to begin with, increasing in speed and intensively as we both started the journey over the moon.

I had opened the nightstand drawer and shown him the condoms, but he had brought his own.

I exploded again before he came. When he'd done so, he just held there, embracing me close from behind, one hand playing my breasts and the fingers of the other still spreading my labia and rubbing my clit, knowing, in his experience, that orgasm for a woman wasn't an event, it was a journey up to the stars. When I'd travel to the end of the galaxy again, he let me fall onto the bed. But he didn't move away; his thighs were encasing mine.

I heard the snap of the latex of the removal of the spent condom and another snap of a new one being rolled on.

Hot damn. He was going to do me again, almost immediately after the first glorious ride. But then I tensed and gave a little yelp as, holding my cheek to the bedspread with a grip of one hand on the back of my neck, he entered my ass with a lubed finger.

I squirmed as the finger invaded deeper and moved around, but I quickly brought myself under control and relaxed. He could feel the tension draining out of me.

"Do you mind, Felicia?" he asked in the velvety, yet steely baritone voice of us. We obviously were on a first-name basis now. "You strike me as a woman who likes it."

"Oh, shit, yes. Take me to glory," I managed to gurgle. A woman of my age is likely to like almost anything a young, hung hunk wants to do that involves penetration.

And then he did just that—fucked me in the ass. He was more than quite good at it.

We were both exhausted and, by mutual consent, moved up onto the bed and I lay in his arms, languidly playing with his long, floppy, black cock as he did with my very expensive breasts. After a bit I urged him over onto his belly, straddled his buttocks, and gave his torso a deep massage that had him humming. I luxuriated in the hard suppleness of the muscles of his back and the milk-chocolate texture of him.

When I pressed him to turn over again, he was magnificently hard, and I mounted the cock, facing him, and rode it to the heavens while he thumbed my nipples, squeezed the bouncing breasts he didn't seem to be able to get enough of, and used an index finger to make sure that my clit was getting all of the contact attention it deserved. The man rivaled the male escorts of Italy in the art of pleasing a woman. And he was big and black to boot.

As he was dressing, he noticed the bite marks on his neck. I'd drawn blood.

"I thought you said you didn't bite," he said.

"I said unless I got excited. You got me excited," I answered.

He grinned at me. A smooth, easy fuck, with a touch of humor. I liked his style.

Night one of the four-day cruise to Bermuda. Tomorrow we would be on the sea all day. So far the ship's staff was receiving high marks from me for service. I had found one black staff particularly useful.

* * * *

It hadn't been by accident that I had booked the cruise to Bermuda for the college spring break period. I liked my produce fresh.

I was up on the pool deck late in the morning, as soon as the temperature was high enough to bring out the swimmers. As I had hoped, the pool had been nearly taken over by the college students. I was feeling sleek and purry after the night with Cord, with whom I had scheduled a repeat visit for tonight. A hundred dollars for a hunk like that—for three fucks—was a steal when compared to rent-boy prices in Philadelphia, although the sons of family acquaintances went for nothing and often were surprisingly entertaining. I was surprise I wasn't stiff. It had been six months, since the last cruise, that I had gotten such a workout from my Venezuelan room steward.

I moved three times around the pool before I found the perfect spot. I saw the two young men when they left their lounge beds and dove into the pool. Both very young, divinely built, and with smooth, supple skin to rival a baby's. Both were wearing skimpy Speedos, by which they each showed the promise of satisfying my requirements. One was the mandatory Nordic blond with curly hair and blue eyes to become lost in. The other was darker, perhaps more than a touch of the Mediterranean, and mysterious looking. The emphasis was on the young and impressionable, though. In one of my turns around the deck I'd heard them mention their college and that this was their second year, so, despite appearances, there wouldn't be any risks on the age front.

They also struck me in another way that I had trouble isolating. I finally decided that it was the way in which they interacted with each other. Either they were close friends or intimate friends, I decided, and, rather than putting me off, I took this as a challenge.

When they had left to dive into the pool, I took a lounge bed directly across from theirs and posed myself in a way that would attract any red-blooded young American boy. If they still had eyes only for themselves, I reasoned, they were too far gone. If they shared the interest, the day may prove to be quite rewarding, I thought—correctly.

After they had returned, chatting to each other, and rubbing themselves off with towels, they got around to being attracted to me. I smiled at them over the edge of the Nora Roberts novel I was reading, and they smiled back, shyly at first but then more boldly. They whispered between themselves as they sat on their lounges and looked around at all the luscious young people waltzing by in nearly the altogether, the college men being boisterous and playfully knocking each other about as they moved.

Although these two young men were looking appreciatively at the bodies of the young men going buy, they were giving as much attention to the college girls—and even to older, well-shaped women. I saw this as a good sign.

I exchanged books for the latest fantasy sci-fi novel that was all the rage with these thickheaded little sweeties and carefully remembered to hold it right side up in front of me, while languidly moving one of my legs up the other as if I was pursuing and itch. I wanted these two hunks to be pursuing their itches as well, and they clearly looked in the mood for that.

I had ensured that the novel was one that wasn't out in the bookstores yet. I had friends who had friends who had acquired an advance copy for me without having a clue what I wanted the book for.

One of them—the outgoing blond—bit.

"Excuse me? Is that the latest Villier book?" he called over to me.

"Yes," I answered, using my purring voice. "I can't wait for new books in the series to come out."

"Me, neither."

This led to a discussion of where they were from and how they came to be on the cruise and that, yes, I was alone and traveled this cruise often.

The open blond one was Steve and the dark, reticent one was Tony. I, of course, was horny. And in deep want for young cock. Cord was almost too slick and expert. I got a little thrill out of training a beautiful young man what the dangly thing between his leg was for.

"Have you been to Bermuda before," I asked.

"No, we haven't," they answered in unison. They seemed to do a lot in unison. They seemed to be very close.

"But you must," I said. "They have great beaches. Have you heard about the tour to Whisper Beach?"

No, they hadn't and hadn't book any excursions.

"I haven't booked either, but it's quite easy to grab a cab for the day at the dock. I've done it before. I'd be happy to show you around tomorrow—to go to a great little beach I know of."

I had put the book down—it had served its usefulness—and raised myself on my elbows to give them a good look at my very expensive breasts with the very deep cleavage, and had opened and bent my legs to give them a good look at my pronounced mound in a bikini that cut very close to the quick. I had very puffy labia, for which I'd never received a complaint.

They were hooked and salivating. The blond answered for both of them on the excursion, even more enthusiastically when I said I'd pay for the trip.

They twittered among themselves in whispers that they apparently didn't think I could hear. I was surprised that it was the dark one, Tony, who first mentioned that he sure would like to do me. Steve answered that that's what they were here for but they'd have to be careful how they went about it.

I didn't think they needed to be careful at all. They could have fucked me right there on the lounge bed in front of all the other passengers if they wanted to.

"How do you like the food on board?" I asked after having hooked them for the next day in Bermuda. I was feeling wet and didn't really want to wait that long to have them.

"It's OK," Steve said. "But a little hard to get to in the Windjammer. All the college kids seem to want to eat at the same time—and to clear the buffet tables out."

"You must eat in one of the specialty restaurants then," I said. "Giovanni's Table is one of my favorite on this ship."

They were looking a bit shy.

"I'd love to give you a treat and take you there tonight. My pleasure, of course."

They perked up and Tony took on a sly look. I could see the wheels in his head spinning, thinking that maybe they could maneuver me into bed after that. But I was way ahead of him on that.

"You did bring formal wear, didn't you?" I asked.

They took on dumb looks.

"No, I guess not," I said, with a laugh. I seriously doubted if they'd come to dress more formally than baggy shorts, athletic T-shirts, and flip-flops. And with their fresh, young, muscular physiques that would be quite all right with me. But I also panted at the opportunity to take a tuxedo off a man's divinely sculpted body.

"You would need tuxedos for the captain's dinner too."

Again the dumb looks. I'm sure they had no plans to cast their shadows on the entrance into the main dining room during the entire cruise.

"Tell you what, it would be a great experience for you. They have a tuxedo rental place on board. It will be open after lunch. Why don't you meet me there and I'll have you both outfitted for tuxedos and take you to Giovanni's Table tonight. It would be fun—for me as much as you. What is money for except to have fun with?"

They were both grinning and wagging their heads, already starting to formulate the story of the old, but foxy lady who dressed them for formal dinners and fucked them all night.

That would be fine with me, but I'd booked Cord for the night. I planned to fuck these two long before then.

Which I did. That afternoon, in my cabin, after I'd watched them stripped down to their skivvies in the tuxedo rental shop and measured for their formal wear.

I told them I was in a junior suite. They said they hadn't been in a cabin on board that even had a window. I said I had a nice balcony. Would they like to see it?

They wagged their heads in unison.

I had them wear the tuxedos to my cabin, knowing they would be so occupied before dinner that they wouldn't have time to go back to their own cabin to change. And, indeed, the pleasure of undressing them compensated for the cost of dressing them.

For the first fuck, Steve was lying on the bed, his head flopped over the end, his tongue licking the insides of my puffy labia and flicking on my clit, as I leaned over his torso and sucked his cock. Tony was behind me, hands on my waist, his cock inside my vagina, sliding in an out very close to where Steve was doing his work. I rather thought that Tony's cock was getting as much licking as my labia were, but I found the image of that very hot.




Bermuda Surprise



My name is Phil Williams and I got lucky selecting a wife. Then I got lucky selecting a place to drill for oil in Texas. Then I got lucky selecting a broker to invest my money. So by age fifty I retired and started to have fun with my wife and my money. Then my luck ran out. After one year of fun my wife of thirty years died of cancer.

Day after day I sat and looked out over lovely white sand at a beautiful emerald ocean thinking about how much fun my wife and I had had when we were poor and looked out over ugly brown sand at an ugly Texas desert. I missed her. Oh my God how I missed her!

I felt that life was not worth living. But I had friends who helped me try to live my life again and I think it was golf that helped the most. I was alone on the course thinking about each shot and listening to my wife's voice in my head telling me to keep my head down and keep that transition slow. I met even more friends at the golf club and my wife's voice in my head told me it was okay to have fun without her. It's what she would have heard me say to her if our circumstances were reversed.

Three years after my wife died I met Trish. Blond and beautiful and twenty-eight. Too young for me everyone thought except, of course, me and her. My friends hinted that I didn't need a trophy wife. My closest friends said it straight out. Trish was a widow. Her husband had been killed in the crash of an experimental plane. He had been a test pilot. She had enough money. I didn't think she wanted mine.

We started dating and when the time came for sex we tried it. It seemed to work. And we talked about it. Talked about it the way you would expect a twenty-eight year old woman and a fifty-four year old man to talk about screwing if they both were open and honest. I learned that she and her husband had been in a swinging crowd and she was accustomed to that experience and enjoyed it. I had never done it but I figured I might try if she wanted me to.

One night I got the courage to ask her if I would be enough to satisfy her. She laughed and said something about swinging. I didn't understand what she said exactly and I was too embarrassed about my performance to ask her to repeat it. I should have.

We got married and got a new set of friends, although some of my old and faithful friends stayed with us. Our sex was good but I was always afraid I was never quite enough for her. And I was afraid to ask. She gave me no indication that I was not satisfying her needs.

Life was good and getting better. Maybe not quite as good as I remembered with my first wife whose voice was sometimes in my head and was never critical of my new wife. We vacationed all over the world and had fun. We were in love. A comfortable, happy, growing love. In our second year of marriage we took a trip to Bermuda.

My first wife had been a golfer and I thought Trish might enjoy it. So I called the golf shop and scheduled a lesson for her with the pro. I went with her to watch. That golf pro had curly red hair and looking at him in a golf shirt his chest was almost as hairy as his head. He had a delightful English accent and he was thirty years old. Just like Trish was.

The lesson went well and afterwards, walking back to the hotel, Trish said casually, "Now there's a very sexy man. I could spread my legs for HIM."

She laughed as she said it as if it were a joke and said nothing more on the subject. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Was she joking? Was it a casual comment a swinger might make? A kind of swinger's compliment? Or was it a request to me to do something? Shit! What? I had no idea what she meant or what I should do. I said nothing and did nothing.

That night after dinner in the bar, Trish and I were sitting in a back booth quietly enjoying some single malt. I saw the golf pro walk up to the bar and order a drink. Trish waved at him and smiled.

"Rich," she yelled. "Over here! Come over and join us."

What the hell did that mean I asked myself. Innocent or not so innocent?

He joined us, smiling, and sat down next to Trish who was sitting across from me in the booth.

"To your first golf lesson," he said lifting his glass.

Trish giggled. She rarely giggled. I felt lost somehow and unsure of what to say. Unsure of what was happening. Both Trish and Rich seemed very comfortable. I was not. I was remembering him standing behind her with his arms around her showing her how to grip and swing the club. Their bodies had been almost touching − his crotch to her butt. I remembered what she had said about spreading her legs for him. What was happening?

The back booths were not well lit like the rest of the bar and we were the only people in the back. Rich was sitting very close to Trish. Their thighs were touching. They were looking at each other in a way that seemed to me more than just friendly and she kept giggling a lot.

We were on our third single malt and Trish seemed a bit tipsy, when Rich asked if we'd like a hit off a joint. Shit! I had done that years ago and I knew Trish and her swinging crown had been regular users. Maybe I should have said something right then but I paused and Trish giggled and nodded her head.

"But let's get seated properly before we do it," Trish said.

She got up from the booth and pushed Rich into her place against the wall. Then she took my hand and pulled me over to her side and she sat in the middle with me on her left and Rich on her right. It was crowded and our bodies were touching but she seemed to like it that way.

"This way I'm close to both my men," she said giggling again.

What the hell did that mean?

I felt her hand on my thigh and I realized she was grabbing Rich's thigh as well. Her fingers caressed me very seductively and I saw she was doing the same thing to Rich. Her fingers on my thigh were turning me on. What the hell was she doing? She was arousing us both.

Rich covertly lit a joint and we passed it and each of us took two hits before he put it out. I felt it slightly but this was all it took to send Trish to happy city. She laughed and giggled at everything either Rich or I said and her hand became much more friendly on my thigh, creeping over to my cock from time to time. Shit! Was she doing the same thing to Rich? I looked but couldn't tell. But she was sure as hell getting to me.

As the booze and pot kicked in she became less boisterous and we all quieted down a bit. But then the atmosphere became very erotic. She began to fondle my cock again through my pants and I got an erection. I looked over at Rich and this time I saw it. She was doing the same thing to him. He had a bulging erection and she was fondling it. Shit! Where was this thing going? I heard her voice in my head saying, "I could spread my legs for HIM."

We sat there close for several minutes and then she said it again, this time very softly, "This is much better. I'm close to both my men."

After a couple more minutes I heard a soft, sexy giggle and when I looked down I saw his hand on Trish's right thigh just above her knee. He had pulled her miniskirt up and was stroking her inner thigh, his hand slowly creeping higher. She made no effort to stop him. She liked it! Jesus! She's playing with his dick and his hand's almost up to her pussy. I kept remembering what she had said about him this afternoon.

Trish turned to me and placing her left hand behind my head she pulled me close and kissed me, pushing her tongue into my mouth. Then she reached down and squeezed my erection. She had me aroused. Then she turned and pulled Rich close and I realized she was doing the same thing to him. She reached down and squeezed his erection! She had us BOTH aroused.

Then I did something stupid. Even as I did it my brain yelled at me to stop but I did it anyway. I couldn't seem to help myself. My tension was just too high. My cock was throbbing.

"I've got to go to the men's room," I whispered to them and got up and left.

I have no earthly idea why I did it, although the next day Trish told me that giving them a chance to get started was the right thing to do if I had wanted to have a threesome. It was like a signal between swingers that I had given them my permission to become intimate. That was certainly not my intention.

When I entered the men's room I went into a booth and pulled out the throbbing erection that Trish had given me. It was the work of only a couple of minutes to masturbate into the commode, where my semen floated uselessly in the water with thick strands sinking down deeper. It seemed to ease my tension and I felt a little better. As I walked past the bar I looked back at our booth and I could see almost nothing in the darkness.

I returned to the booth not five minutes after I had left it and although I felt better, everything else had changed. Rich had used those minutes to work my wife into a sexual frenzy. Her panties were on the table. Her skirt was up to her waist revealing her belly and hairy beaver. Half naked and barefoot, I thought. Damn! She looks good!

Her naked legs were spread wide with her left foot on the floor and her right leg up over his lap with her foot pressing firmly against the wall. He had three fingers in that hairy pussy, his thumb on her clit, and he was finger fucking her as he kissed her. She was grunting and humping his fingers and she was getting leverage from one foot on the floor and the other against the wall to lift up her ass and hump harder. And she was really pumping her ass. I could tell she was working to cum.

When I sat down beside her she broke off her kiss with Rich and pulled me close and started kissing me, continuing to pump her ass. She reached down and massaged my cock and I got another hard on. I had never before been French kissed by a half-naked woman who was getting finger fucked by another man.

Then she lay back in my arms with her head on my hard cock. I embraced and caressed the clothed half of my wife tenderly while Rich was enjoying her naked half. His thumb still pressed firmly on her clit, he now had four fingers stretching out that wet pussy and she was humping his hand like it was a dick. I kissed her and looked down at her naked belly, watching that hairy beaver pump up and down as she grunted.

She was sweating heavily and every time she humped, she pushed back against me and then pushed off from my body to slam that pussy harder and drive his fingers deeper as they slipped in and out of her dripping vagina. His thumb continued to rub her clitoris. Her pussy was making those wet squishy sounds a horny pussy makes when it's getting what it needs. And she was grunting each time she humped her hips toward his hand.

Her eyes were clinched tight. She fucked his hand steadily for several minutes until she took a deep breath and held it. Her grunts stopped and then turned to groans and I felt her body tremble in an orgasm that was surprisingly soft and quiet compared to the frenzy of working for it. I held my wife and kissed her as she trembled in that moment of ecstasy given to her by another man. Then she rested for a couple of minutes, panting heavily.

She opened her eyes and looked around noting Rich's fingers in her pussy, her widely spread legs, and her nakedness as if surprised at awaking from a deep sleep.

"Oh my," she said. "Trish has been a naughty girl. A very naughty girl indeed!"

Then she giggled and began to untangled herself from our three-way embrace. She sat up out of my lap, pulled Rich's fingers out of her pussy and moved her legs back together, putting her feet on the floor. She pulled her skirt down so that her belly and beaver were no longer visible. She was covered but with those long beautiful legs she still looked half naked to me.

"Thank you kind sir," she said primly, leaning over and giving Rich a quick kiss on the cheek. "Just what the lady needed. Needed very badly."

Then she looked down at his erection, bulging in his pants. She patted it tenderly and spoke to it, "Just be patient. You may be next."

Turning to me and giving me a similar kiss she said, "Welcome back my darling husband. Thank you for holding me close and helping me enjoy that very pleasurable experience."

She patted my erection and spoke to it as she had done to Rich's, "I'll get to you when it's your turn."

Then she picked up her single malt, and held it up in a toast.

"Here's to the three of us," she said giggling. "I hope you're both having fun. You saw me have some just now and I'm looking forward to having a lot more fun tonight, with your gentlemanly assistance, of course."

"Why don't we go up to your suite Trish?" Rich asked. "You and I can have some real fun up there."

Trish chuckled, "Yeah Rich. It is your turn I think. Guests go first."

Then turning to me she said, "You wanna do that honey. It might be a fun threesome. It's your choice, of course."

Oh my God I thought. I tried to respond but my throat was too tight to speak. She wants to take him upstairs and fuck him! She's had her orgasm and says it's his turn now and then mine. She's gonna fuck us both! Him and me and then him and me and ... Oh shit!

This was so completely new, beyond anything I had ever thought about. I did remember asking her in one of our talks about sex if I was gonna be enough for her and she'd said something about swinging. But I had never given it the thought it deserved. 

I should have thought it through in advance like I did questions in business so I'd know what I wanted to do if it ever actually happened. And now it WAS happening. My half naked wife was asking me if I wanted to try swinging with a guy she had told me this afternoon she wanted to spread her legs for! I should have talked to her about swinging long before this. What the hell do I do? I remained speechless.

"Yeah," Rich said. "I think you'd like to watch us do it Phil."

"Phil's ready to do a lot more than just watch," Trish said, with a sexy chuckle.

"I been checking out both you guys and he's as big and hard as you are," she said, reaching over and squeezing my cock and then doing the same to Rich. "And I'm gonna need both you horny guys to satisfy me in bed tonight."

"Yeah," Rich chuckled lewdly. "We can feed him some creampie."

"That's not what I meant!" Trish said angrily. "Don't even joke that way about my husband. He won't eat creampie."

"Come on baby," Rich said. "That's what wimps do."

"My husband is not a wimp," Trish said firmly. "He will be a part of any threesome that I am in. Taking his turn."

She seemed to be sobering up as she spoke and now she looked angry. She took my arm and squeezed it lovingly almost like she was reassuring me.

"Of course he's a wimp," Rich said. "He just sat there watching me finger fuck his wife and did nothing about it."

Thinking back later, I realized it was at this very moment that Trish figured out that Rich was not a swinger. And further, that he knew absolutely nothing about swinging. He had completely misinterpreted everything that she had done and this made her mad. Maybe mad at herself as well as at Rich − but mad as hell. She had wanted to swing and Rich had wanted to cuckold me.

Trish looked me in the eye, then turned and looked at Rich. Then, suddenly she pushed me out of the booth and followed me out pulling down her miniskirt as she stood up. She grabbed her panties from the table and threw them into Rich's face.

"Add these to your trophy case you bastard. But you're not gonna add me OR my husband! Come of Phil let's get to bed. I'm sorry honey it was all my fault. A nice, little, friendly, swinging threesome is one thing, but nobody makes a wimpy cuckold out of MY husband."

I saw a look of dismay on Rich's face as he realized that I was gonna enjoy the quality pussy that he had just thrown away by being an asshole.

Then I led my wife out of the bar thinking that one of these days a nice, little, friendly, swinging threesome might be a very good idea. Maybe that's what Trish needs − maybe that's what we BOTH need. I'm willing to try.

But how the hell do I do it? Well, I'm married to an expert. I'll just ask her. And after THIS night I'll damn well be able to talk to her about it. And as she had said, it's MY choice.

Now I need to get her in bed and fuck her to get her mind off that bastard. I got lucky tonight.

Suddenly I thought about my new wife. Maybe I got lucky again finding a wife. I think she loves me. 



Bermuda Triangle



My story starts a number of years ago. We have a friend, Simon, that my husband, Gary, has known since he was about 17. 

We regularly visited Simon and his then wife, and they used to come and visit us. All four of us became good friends, but nothing sexual happened between us until Simon’s wife ran off and he got divorced. 

One Saturday night, when Simon was staying, I was getting into bed when I thought I heard him outside our bedroom in the passageway. I got up, wearing my flimsy, see-through nightie, and went to investigate by pretending to go to the loo. 

I saw Simon quickly dash back into his room, so I was sure he had been watching me undress for bed through the partly open door. To be honest, the thought of him seeing me like that turned me on, and I could feel my pussy getting moist. Feeling very flirty I went into his room to check he was okay. 

I bent down over him and whispered that I didn’t mind him seeing me naked, and that if he came back and peeped round our door in a few minutes, he would see a lot more. 

Gary was looking at a copy of Fiesta when I returned to our room, so I knew he was in the mood for a randy time. I pulled back the sheets, positioned myself on my hands and knees with my pussy towards the door, and started fondling and sucking his cock. I parted my legs as I sucked and slid my hand down to my pussy, dipping my fingers into my juicy hole. 

I soon brought myself off and my head was swimming, imagining that Simon was watching me. 

I wanted him to see me being fucked by Gary. So I turned round, checked he was at the door (he was), and suggested to Gary that we fuck in the spoons position. Gary happily agreed, allowing our hidden audience a perfect view as he slid his hard cock into my swollen hole. 

All the excitement of being fucked under these circumstances gave me a multiple orgasm. Gary was highly aroused by my performance and managed to fuck me for about an hour. I lost count of the number of times I came. 

After that, we were so shattered that we simply turned the light off and fell asleep. 

In bed on the Sunday night, after Simon had gone home, my husband commented that he had really enjoyed the previous evening, and asked me what had turned me on so much. After a bit of probing, and a bit of guessing that it was something to do with Simon, he assured me that he wouldn’t mind knowing, whatever it was. 

When I finally told him that Simon had been watching from the door, his penis, which was already quite stiff inside me, swelled up and he came almost instantly. Afterwards, Gary said that he didn’t mind Simon watching, particularly if it turned me on that much. He then went further and told me he thought it would be very erotic to let Simon join in next time he stayed. 

Our next get together, at Simon’s this time, was about two months later. 

On the way there we agreed that we would try to create the opportunity for some sexy fun with Simon. 

As usual, we had a nice meal and a few bottles of wine, which helped to remove any inhibitions I still had. We started playing some games, quite innocently, but to get things going I suggested that the loser should remove an item of clothing. Simon, who had just lost, jumped at the idea and removed his trousers, allowing me to see the outline of his cock starting to throb in his pants. 

We played a few more games, removed a few more things, and got down to just our underwear. A few more games, and the time came for me to remove my bra, and I really enjoyed showing off my naked boobs to Simon’s admiring glances. My pubic hair was also showing quite visibly through the thin and now very wet lacy material of my knickers. 

Then Simon lost again and had to remove his pants. I suggested that I should do it for him and he happily let me. 

I enjoyed sliding my fingers into the top of his pants and slowly pulling them down, brushing his pubic hair and his penis with my hand as I revealed his swollen prick. I then bent down and gave his stiff member a quick, teasing kiss. 

I lost again and Simon got up and walked over to where I was sitting, his erect penis sticking out in front of him. I stood up and almost swooned as I felt him gently touching my skin, slowly moving up my thighs until he reached the thin material of my panties, which he pulled to the side before he slid his fingers inside and slowly pulled them down, revealing my pussy. He then caressed my pubic hair and slid a finger down to the entrance of my soaking hole. Then, teasingly, he went and sat back down, holding my damp panties as a trophy. 

After a few more games we were all naked, so we decided it was time for bed. As we went upstairs Simon said we could use his double bed and I said we’d love to. It was a lovely feeling as I laid my naked body down between them and they both started caressing me all over. I returned the favour by gently stroking their pricks, one in each hand. Then I turned on my side and let my husband enter my pussy from behind. That left me free to enjoy Simon’s passionate kisses, his tongue probing my mouth while I fondled his prick and balls. 

My husband’s prick exploded inside me, but remained stiff with excitement. 

We then changed round so that I could feel Simon’s prick inside me. I lay on my back, with my bum on a couple of pillows so that my pussy was raised up for Simon to slide in. Simon eased into me and I came almost instantly it felt even better than when I had fantasised about it. 

My pussy clamped tight around Simon’s cock and I felt the incredible sensation of a man other than my husband coming inside me. Then, as he withdrew, I felt my husband’s fingers probing me as my pussy tingled with pleasure. 

We continued for what seemed like hours in various positions before we all finally fell asleep together. 

We have only done it the once with Simon, so far. However, we might get the chance to try it again soon, and maybe take it even further! Simon is coming to stay for a week next month, with his new girlfriend, who he says is as sexy and adventurous as me!



Bermuda Triangle



"A candidate for the Bermuda Triangle, might you say?" Dean said to Penn across the cocktail table. They were sitting at a window of the Splendor Lounge on the Champion of the Sea mega tourist ship on the first full night of its sail from Baltimore to Bermuda.

The two, both members of the ship's dance troupe were looking over a thirtiesh blond, well-formed, and obviously well-heeled hunk standing at the bar next to the bar stool-perching, equally matched blonde beauty in the minimal-coverage gold spangled top and miniskirt.

"Gotten particulars?" Penn asked Dean.

"Yeah," Dean said. "I've checked. They have one of the senior suites, and he's Samuel Heck of the Heck department store tribe."

Penn whistled. "So, a big fish."

"Yep," Dean said. "And I checked, because, maybe you didn't notice, but he had his eyes glued on the Viceroy Stage last night when we were dancing the muscle shirt number and his hand was in his lap working himself inside his slacks—only during the men's numbers, never during the women's. He's a closet brother if I've ever seen one, and I'm willing to bet his wife there 'don't know shit about that, honey.'"

"So, the Bermuda Triangle ploy, yes, I'd agree," Penn said. "The only question now is who's to make the move? You or me?"

"I'm best with a camera and you've been best with his type," Dean said. "So, you play lover and I'll do the clicking. Let's get over there beside them and start laying bait. If they open to us, I'll chat up the wife, and you can cut good ole Sam from the herd."

"Right, moving now," Penn said. "I don't think they've noticed us, so let's go out through the conference center and come in again through the front of the lounge and saddle up to the bar with them."

The ploy worked a charm. Penn and Dean bellied up the bar next to the Hecks and started talking about practice schedules, and it clicked with the Hecks that the two, young, very nice-looking guys at the bar with them were among the entertainers the evening before.

Happily, Susan Heck had taken modern dance—she certainly had the legs for it—so Dean slathered her up, using all of the butter he could churn out, while Penn had a more quiet, much more intense and pointed conversation with the mark. When Dean saw Sam Heck's hand go in guarded fashion to Penn's knee, he knew it was time to offer Susan a special five-hour beauty work over at the ship's spa on the ship's first day docked at King's Wharf in Bermuda.

Susan was ecstatic at the opportunity and left straightaway from the bar with Dean to check out the spa facilities and schedule her free appointment.

An hour later, when Dean returned to the cabin he shared with Penn, he found Penn waiting for him, all smiles.

"Is he hooked?" Dean asked.

"You betcha. We went almost directly to that men's room on deck four almost no one uses, and I gave him a blow job in one of the stalls. He's hot, hot for me and wants to go further."

"So, which location are we going to use?" Dean asked. "No problem when. As I think you caught, dear little Susie is going to be stuck in the spa for most of the first day we have on Bermuda."

"I think that isolated grotto at the south end of Horseshoe Bay will do just fine," Penn answered. "The light's good there."

Penn rented a moped on the morning the ship arrived in Bermuda, assuring Sam Heck he was an expert in puttering about and also that he knew a really nice, isolated spot where they could have a nice swim and snorkel—something to be able to tell Susie that Sam was doing for a couple of hours that morning on his own—and all the privacy they needed.

Penn was pleased to see that Sam Heck was virtually salivating over the prospect of what they'd really be doing. When they got on the moped, Penn driving and Sam nudged in behind him, Penn could feel the rising need in Sam's loins and felt the sexual heat rising off him. As they puttered along at Bermuda's 30-mile-an-hour speed limit through narrow roads, Sam had his hands on Penn's basket, working his cock hard through the material of his shorts and Speedo, in anxious anticipation. When Penn stopped at crossings, Sam kissed him in the hollow of his neck and ran his hands up under Penn's T-shirt and tweaked his nipples. Penn had no doubts at all that Sam was hooked and would give a highly photogenic performance as soon as he was given the chance.

Penn insisted they swim first, although all Sam could think about or talk about was fucking Penn. They wound up at a grotto-like small beach, enclosed on three sides by limestone rock formations, one of many such small, secluded spots along the Horseshoe Bay but one that was particularly hidden and almost never used to Penn's knowledge. They had arrived very early anyway, and there wouldn't be much of anyone on the beach at all until the afternoon.

Penn was afraid early on that he would lose control and the Bermuda Triangle ploy would go bust. They had swum out a bit, not far, because the water got deep quickly at that beach, and Sam had swum directly over to Penn and was holding him closely from behind, with one arm around Penn's chest and the hand of the other arm digging for his ass.

"Wanna fuck. Now," Sam was muttering. He had Penn, his legs spread and floating out in front of him toward the beach, lapped as Sam stood in four feet of surf, palming Penn's belly with one hand and fisting his cock with a hand running under the waistband of his Speedo with the other. Penn was enjoying this and didn't start to try to struggle out of the hold until the hand moved around his flank and into his crease. Penn jerked and gasped as an index finger breached the rim of his hole.

"No, not here, let's go back up to the beach," Penn cried out over the pounding surf. He was trembling and getting aroused more than he had anticipated. This Sam was a hunk—maybe even sexier than Dean was. Penn looked forward to the fuck, and Sam's fingers inside his hole were driving Penn crazy. He had been quick to offer to take this role with Sam because he had been drawn to him in the first place. He wanted the fuck.

He did manage to break away and head back into the isolated grotto, where they had stretched two large beach towels out on the fine-grained pink sand that Bermuda was famous for.

Sam had scrambled up behind Penn and tackled him at the edge of the towels, and the two wrestled playfully, working up their arousal to greater heights. Sam pushed Penn down flat on his stomach, saddled his pelvis on top of Penn's hips, and, holding Penn's arms down with his hands, began to mount the lithe dancer.

"No, no," Penn cried out. "I want to watch it stroke inside me. Here you on your knees, sitting back on your haunches, and me stretched out in front of you, with my ass cheeks on your thighs. Here in the sun, not in the shade. Yes!. Ahhhh . . . yes, Yess! Oh god, you are so big. Oh, god. Oh shit. Fuck me. Yesss. Fuck me!"

In a frenzy, Sam complied. Holding the more lithe Penn, with those firm and highly flexible dancer's legs, Sam pulled his lover for the day back and forth on his cock. Penn stopped the first fucking by ejaculating straight up into the air in an arc that could clearly be seen from the tops of the surrounding limestone formations. Then he pushed Sam onto his back, sucked his cock almost to ejaculation, and then fisted the hunk off so that he also spouted high into the air. After Sam had recovered and gotten hard again with the help of Penn's mouth, he doggy fucked Penn out in the sunlit center of the grotto until Penn spilled his seed. And as a finale and hour and a half after they had started, the flexible Penn rolled up onto his shoulders, his ass presented to Sam up in the air for a straight-down pile-driving fuck.

All of which looked quite convincing on camera, as Dean perched surreptitiously at the top of the limestone rock formation encasing the grotto and got pictures that left nothing to the imagination on what was being done in the grotto below and exactly who was doing it. This was one of Penn and Dean's favorite blackmail ploys that they had been working for two years on these entertainment troupe cruise liner runs from Baltimore to Bermuda. They certainly couldn't pay their rent on what the cruise line paid them; they lived quite well on entrapping and then promising not to tell on a series of well-heeled married cruisers. The three-way fuck—what they called their Bermuda Triangle ploy. The mark fucking one of them and then both of them fucking the mark.

Two nights later, while Susan was enjoying a follow-up free hair styling at the ship's beauty parlor and the cruise ship was on the return trip to Baltimore from Bermuda, Penn and Dean closed the trap on Sam Heck in his cabin.

Dean did the pitch. Penn was a little reticent about it. He'd really enjoyed the fuck and might have just forgotten about the blackmail part if Dean wasn't so insistent that they close it out. "So you see from these pictures, Mr. Heck, that it might be wiser if you . . ."

"Why the fuck would I care?" Sam said. "Frame them for all I care. Send them to the Baltimore Sun. It will only get you thrown in the slammer."

"I know you must be in shock, Mr. Heck, but I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. If Mrs. Heck were to . . ."

"Mrs. Heck? My mother's dead. Why should she care?"

"No, no. He means Susan," Penn interjected. Sam glowered at him and Penn shrank away in embarrassment.

"Susan? SUSAN?" Sam grunted out. And then he laughed. "Susan Heck is my sister, dimwits. I don't have a wife. Everyone knows I'm gay. And very good at it, right, Penn?"

"Oh . . . yes, yes you are," Penn said, floored.

"Oh, shit," Dean said, in shock. He was faster at assessing adding to a total than Penn was.

"And so," Sam said, with a big grin. "Maybe I'll just keep these photos . . ." and with that, he turned and popped the photos into the room's wall safe and clicked the door shut . . . "and then it's you two who are fucked."

Penn and Dean looked at him with panicked expressions.

"But maybe if you were really fucked, both of you, hard, then we could just forget this happened."

Dean yelped, as Sam lifted him off the sofa with a strong arm wrapped around his waist and slammed him on the bed and started reaching below his belt in the back, down through his crack, digging for his ass.

Sam had finished with a panting and moaning Dean and was mounting Penn from the raised rear position when Susan Heck returned from her hair appointment.

Susan surveyed the carnage on the bed and gave a little sigh and pulled up a chair so she could watch Penn get fucked at close range. She loved to watch men fuck. She did ask Sam what they were doing, and Sam answered that they were playing Bermuda Triangle, a three-way, with him king of the top. They both laughed at that. Later Sam would give her a bonus thrill by opening the safe when they were alone and letting her examine Dean's glossy photo shots from the Horseshoe Beach grotto.