0 comments/ 14233 views/ 2 favorites Ocean Breezes By: northcostguy It was almost embarrassing how little luggage they had for the bellman Angelo to help them with, but he seemed to pay no attention as he slung both of the gym bags over one shoulder, unlocked the cabana and invited them to enter. The day had been full of transportation of diminishing sizes: a jet into Miami then a regional jet to Grand Bahama Island. The four-seater prop plane brought them to this tiny island where they were met by Angelo. From there it had been a 20-minute ride through the sugar cane fields under an azure sky completely devoid of clouds. They passed through a discrete gate then down one of seven small paths. There was no central high-rise at this resort, no restaurant where you were part of the crowd. This was a place where privacy was cherished. Services were provided right in the cabana. The brochure had said there was a good chance you would never see another visitor. Their first impression suggested this was true. She let out a slight gasp as they entered. It was just as she had always imagined: Hardwood floors, high ceilings with fans turning lazily. White leather furniture dotted the place and matched the long curtains that hung from the glass-less windows. The quick tour included the kitchen with appliances worthy of the chef who would visit the cabana each evening to prepare dinner and a very sturdy looking butcher block table that held a bowl of fresh fruit. The bedroom had a magnificent king-sized bed with posters made of what looked to be native exotic hardwood. It held a canopy of white linen that matched the drapes and a mosquito net was tucked to one side. The closet was far larger than they would need. Their host showed them to the patio, with two matching chaise lounges with royal blue cushions and a retractable awning to shade the area. A large hammock hung between two palm trees and on the opposite side was a hot tub. A circular stairway wound its way up to a balcony nearly two stories high. On it was a large outdoor bed with the same blue cushions. Through the thick vegetation was a stone path that led to the beach. "Your chef tonight will be Maria," their host said. She will be here promptly at 7:30." He graciously accepted their tip and bid them farewell, again reminding them to call if they needed anything. Finally alone, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. "Where would you like to make love, my dear?" They had both simmered all day. In the security line at the airport she had innocently backed into him, pushing her firm ass against his hardness. On the plane to Miami he slid his hand under the hem of her sundress and enjoyed finding her pantiless. She had to bite her lip to remain silent as she enjoyed the first orgasm of the day while pretending to read her Kindle. She had even slipped a hand into his pants in the back seat of the car on their way to the resort. While they both very much enjoyed the naughtiness of semi-private play what the both wanted to do was rip each other's clothes off and just go at it. Barely taking a second for their lips to separate, he grabbed the hem of her sundress and lifted it over her head. She was quite naked and they returned to their embrace. She pushed him back, gently but firmly until he fell back on the bed. He unbuttoned his shorts and she pulled them down his legs, revealing his hardness. He took off his shirt and soon she was on top of him, kissing his mouth, his neck, nibbling his ears. She aligned herself so her swollen clit was rubbing against his shaft, his fingernails gliding along her back. They took their lovemaking too seriously to ever skimp on the foreplay, but she decided they had been teasing each other for hours. She reached between her legs and led his head to her very wet opening. She groaned deeply as he entered her, going slowly, allowing her to stretch to welcome him. Still they kissed, they always kissed and he loved to taste her mouth. She sat up, eager to take him in fully. He loved to watch her beautiful breasts, still quite firm, as she gyrated on top of him. She reached up and grasped one of the bars that supported the canopy. Holding it firmly, it gave her added leverage as she rode him. He moved his hand to her clit and massaged it, taking some of her wetness from his shaft. Soon she felt an orgasm building deep within her toes and her moans grew louder as it reached her mons. Their surroundings allowed her to be as vocal as she wanted to be as she announced the pleasure with a freedom she hadn't enjoyed on the plane that morning. She collapsed against him, still working her pelvis, "I love fucking you," she whispered in his ear. "This week I'm going to fuck you all over this house, but right now I want to feel you explode deep inside of me. C'mon baby, cum for me." She again sat up and her gray eyes locked on his. "Are you ready to cum for me?" she cooed. She felt his cock twitch as he let out with a groan of his own. Soon she felt his warmth fill her and she smiled. Again she kissed his mouth as her pelvis slowly milked every last drop from his cock. They fell asleep to the sound of the distant waves and the gentle caress of the sea breeze. She awoke to the sound of a doorbell. Leaving him still sleeping, she slipped the discarded dress over her head and noticed their suitcases were still where they had been dropped a couple of hours earlier. She opened the door to find Maria, looking very smart and professional in her crisp, gray chef coat and pants. Maria smiled and introduced herself, then pushed her sizable cart through the door and into the kitchen. With the chef squared away in the kitchen she returned to the bedroom and give him a light, intimate tickle. "The chef is here, sleepy head, I'm getting in the shower." He groaned a bit and rolled over. Men. She was as impressed with the shower as she was the rest of the place. Gleaming gray and white tile covered a shower larger than any bathtub she had ever seen. On one end was a tiled bench and mounted on the walls were two sets of handles that were clearly to allow a fun-filled shower for two. It took her a moment to figure out the controls directing water to two cascade heads, a dozen nozzles coming from all four sides and hand-held unit as well. She worked a loufa into lather and slowly washed her body. She paid special attention to her mons, washing away their last session and preparing herself for their next. She took advantage of the hand-held sprayer to thoroughly rinse beneath and allowed the water to linger on her clit for just a bit longer than a proper lady would have. She dried off and put on one of the luxurious soft bath robes hanging behind the door. She started unpacking her bag as he headed to the shower. She smiled a bit remembering what she had packed: sundresses, a few pairs of panties, two bikinis, a bra for the trip home and some flip flops. Her mother would not have approved. In the interest of time, she unpacked his bag as well: a bathing suit, shirts and shorts and underwear. Men were so simple. She laid out for him a crisp, white linen shirt and a pair of khaki shorts on the bed and went into the kitchen. Maria was all business, but underneath she had an exotic island beauty. She explained she was trained in the fine dining establishments in Miami but loved the slower pace of the resort, cooking for just six people each night. He joined them in the kitchen and the space was clearly not big enough for the three of them. Maria handed each of them sangria with fresh fruit floating in the glass and shooed them out to the hammock so she could finish preparing dinner. As they settled in, the chef appeared with a large bowl of fresh fruit: pineapple, mango, star fruit, kiwi and others they did not instantly recognize. The bowl was handed to him with instructions, "On this island fresh fruit is customarily fed to each other." She paused. "But at this resort it is customary to share without using your fingers." She smiled and returned to the kitchen. He was puzzled, but she understood. She took a piece of kiwi and held it between her teeth, then moved her mouth to his. He eagerly took his half of the fruit as his lips met hers. This may prove to be the best bowl of fruit ever, he thought. "High school rules?" she asked. "High school rules," he agreed. One of them called for high school rules when they needed to be close. Much like a high school date, kissing and cuddling were a high priority. Second and third base were attainable, but only through the clothes. This was about connecting, not about sex. Although she had first proposed the idea, it seemed that he called for it more often. By the time the smells of seafood filled their noses they were sticky from the fruit, turned on and felt very much in love. They enjoyed dinner on the patio, sitting in the quiet enjoying the sound of the wave and evening breeze rustling through the thick vegetation. The meal was nothing short of perfect, a light, fresh offering of seafood and local fruits and vegetables. Maria came out and cleared the plates. "There is a jug of sangria in the refrigerator and the frittata for breakfast is already to go. Baking instructions are on the counter." The sun had set during the meal and they followed the sparsely-illuminated path to the beach. The breeze had picked up but was still quite warm. They walked along the water's edge, hand in hand, with every star ever conceived ablaze above them in the clear skies. It was a remarkable feeling of solitude, just two lovers with the ocean they could have been shipwrecked on a deserted island for all they knew at the moment. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, trying to feel as close physically as she was emotionally. "We need to go skinny dipping," she said, matter of factly. "You've apparently never seen Jaws." "Fine, suit yourself, then you can stay here and hold my clothes." With that she shimmied out of her sundress, squeezed the bulge on the front of his shorts and dashed in the water. Behind her she knew he was furiously stripping out of his clothes. Soon they were again intertwined, their wet, smooth skin sliding against the other, tongues exploring mouths, hands very much violating the high school rules. "Ever cum in the ocean?" she asked. "I whizzed off a fishing boat, does that count?" he said with a grin. "Ass. Let's give this a try." They were in waist-deep water. She lay on her back and spread her legs. He took a step forward and gently took her hips, pulling her toward him. Her hand guided him in and soon they were connected, her ankles hooked behind him. They found that thrusting did not work, but the gentle motion of the waves was a perfect rhythm as they bobbed against each other. The sight was magnificent. The full moon glowed against her wet skin, her hard nipples moving with the surf. They bobbed together for nearly half an hour, enjoying the quiet and the stars. He pulled out of her abruptly. "Last one to the hot tub has to sleep on the wet spot," he said, running out of the water. She was, certainly, far faster than him and she had him tackled before he was out of the water. He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her across the beach and up the path to their cabana. She wasn't at all surprised that his hand was on her ass the entire time. Some things, afterall, never change. He put her down on the edge of the patio and stood to rinse the sand off before entering. As she stood under the water he pushed her back against the shower support. ++++++ It occurred to her that she was missing him. After being practically attached at the hip (or near there) for more than 24 hours the few minutes it took him to go back to the cabana to refill the sangria jug and bring back some fruit seemed to be taking forever. But soon as her mind was lulled watching the waves she heard him return. He sat down behind her, legs on either side, and he kissed her neck. He felt the warmth of her sun-baked skin and smelled the sun tan lotion, a smell that he always associated with the beach but had an otherwise generic aroma. She had decided her bikini tops would stay in the dresser drawer this week, a luxury afforded by the high degree of privacy on their beach. "Let's get you lathered up, the last thing I need this week is for you to have a sunburn that can't be touched." Soon she felt the cool smoothness of the lotion on her shoulders and the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and hung her head, relaxing in his hands and relishing the feel of his hands. He worked her shoulders, her back, paying special attention to his favorite places: her shoulder blades and the small surgical scar on her lower back. She had notice that whenever they made love he spent extra time licking, kissing and nibbling those areas, although she had no idea why. If she had asked she would find that he didn't either, it was just his way. He scooted back a little to give him access to her lower back down to the top of her bikini bottoms. They were the smallest she had worn in how long? A quarter century, perhaps? But as she watched his eyes fill with lust that morning she knew she could still make them work. He moved back so he was brushing against her back, his hands reached around she felt the lotion cover her breasts. He toyed lightly with her very erect nipples as she laid her head back on his shoulder. She always enjoyed his touch and the addition of the silky lotion, the sun and the very publicness of their surroundings heightened her passion. He paid extra attention to the underside of each breast, slowly massaging the fleshly globe in a slow, methodical pattern, then his hands moved to her flat stomach. He gently pulled her back against him as his touched wandered to where she so wanted it to go. His hands were clear of the lotion by now and what had started as concern for her skin had, predictably, become lascivious. The swelling the front of her suit revealed her desire and his fingers explored her through the whisper-thin nylon of her bathing suit. His finger traced the puffiness of her outer lips, slowly following the swell in the fabric, down the left side, underneath and back to the top on the right. She jumped as his finger found her clit, then he quickly moved to her inner lips, again tracing the contours of her womanhood and they revealed themselves against her suit. His other hand was kneading a breast as she reached back and wrapped her arms around her neck, arching her back and further offering his breasts to his touch. The backs of the fingernails of his lower hand lightly traced her skin just above the waistband. "Yes please," she murmured and he slid his fingers into the elastic. His first two fingers deftly opened her folds and the center finger reached into her wetness. He extracted his finger and followed the inside of her lips to the clit. She gasped as he first touched it. He slowly, lazily brushed his finger against her nub. First up and down, then back and forth. At times he would squeeze it lightly between his fingers, other he would tug it gently, often returning to gather more wetness to keep it smooth and lubricated. He hooked his thumbs on the waist of her suit and gave it a tug. From the position, he couldn't move it far but she was more than willing to help him. Soon she was completely naked on a beautiful beach and, she knew, wasn't too far from an orgasm. Afternoons didn't get a lot better than this. She turned around and kissed him deeply, then pushed him back onto the towel. She stuffed a towel under his head and sat on his chest. She wrapped his hair around her fingers and lowered her womanhood to his mouth. His tongue extended into her, exploring the same folds and creases his fingers had so recently enjoyed. They locked eyes between her breasts. He reveled at her beauty against a cloudless Caribbean sky, her body just beginning to shimmer under the warmth of the sun. She adjusted slightly to align her clit with his tongue and he took the hint. A series of light licks, followed by increasing pressure prompted an orgasm to begin in her toes. Her hips rocked lightly and the seemed to keep pace with the ebbing and flowing surf. She reached back and steadied her hands on his waist, pushing herself harder against his mouth. He quickened his pace as his hands went to the small of her back to provide extra support. Her moans became louder and more frequent until suddenly she went silent as the orgasm rushed to her loins. She lurched forward, her hands in the sand and grinding against his face as coaxed the last of her orgasm from her. She reached back and began massaging his cock through his bathing suit. But her gently took her hand in his and whispered, "Please don't, let's let this session be all about you." Their sweaty bodies nestled in and she dozed off, with vision of the butcher block table in the kitchen. As the shadows grew a bit longer she decided she had had enough sun for the day. He still had two more chapters to finish in his book, so she headed back to the cabana alone. Knowing that Maria would soon be arriving, she slid the sundress on over her bikini bottoms and headed up the path. She stopped in the kitchen to refill her sangria and noticed an interesting parcel on the butcher block. The clothes they had left strewn about the beach last night had been carefully laundered and were neatly folded there. As a mom she had her doubts about his white shirt that had been tossed in the sand, but it was as clean as the day it came from the store, and expertly pressed. She wondered why in the world there would even be starch at a resort like this, but the doorbell distracted her thoughts. Maria was at the door, looking lovely in her all-business chef outfit. The two ladies discussed the night's menu a bit. "It wasn't originally planned, but I brought fruit for another fruit salad," the chef said. "It was nice to see how the two of you very much appreciated my efforts last night," she added with a bit of a gleam in her eye. The chef set to work and she excused herself to the shower. As the water got warm she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. For the first time she could remember her breasts were as tan as the rest of her and she liked the look. The small bikini bottom left just enough pale skin to provide a contrast. She stepped into the stream of hot water and began to wash away the day's mixture of sand, sun tan lotion and seaspray. A few minutes with the razor ensured that she was smooth and inviting to his touch. As she left the bathroom he had just come in from the beach. She kissed him deeply, then dropped to her knees, taking his bathing suit down with her. He was, of course, already erect and she offered several long, slow licks up and down his shaft. She stood and kissed him again. "Maria's already here, but I assure you that after where you took me this afternoon you are in for some very special treats this evening. Now get in the shower so you taste extra good." As he headed for the soap she examined her limited options in the closet. She chose a longish, flowy yellow dress. She loved how her tan shoulders would highlight the thin straps. She knew his favorite part was that the buttons ran from the hem to the neckline, allowing her to be as flirty as she chose. She decided that relatively few buttons would be necessary this evening. She left it open up to her mid thigh, then closed the dress until it showed a hint of cleavage. Assessing the look in the mirror she released a button at the top, then another. As she turned she saw that nearly an entire bronzed breast could be visible. Maria had, she decided, seen guests dressed far more scandalously and she had plans for that night. She returned to the kitchen to see another large bowl of fruit had been prepared. "Let's leave these in the fridge for now," she said, "I think we'll save these for dessert." She filled two tumblers full of sangria and headed to the patio, noticing how the sway of her breast was visible with each step. Ocean Breezes He soon emerged and, as she had hoped, had simply put on the clothes the resort staff had delivered earlier in the day. His white linen shirt contrasted nicely with his tan and the khaki shorts were a nice touch as well. They chatted at the patio table and she was amused to watch him try to keep eye contact as he noticed her unbuttoned dress. As Maria served dinner it appeared that she too took notice of the open buttons. They enjoyed a light dish of shrimp and scallops on fresh greens and island fruit. Maria took her leave early, explaining that her next guests had put in a special request for the evening. His imagination began to run, but she told the chef to go right ahead and enjoy the evening, they could certainly load the dishwasher themselves. The sexual tension increased as they again had the place to themselves. He went to the kitchen to check for seconds and in his absence she unbuttoned two more buttons, one on the top and one on the bottom. Just three buttons now held the dress together. She wondered for how much longer. She joined him in the kitchen to learn there were no more seconds to be had and he gazed longingly at the new revelation. In her haste to leave Maria had left the CD player on in the kitchen. CLICK THIS LINK: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJ58TVYNFro&ob=av2n Bonnie Raitt had always been a favorite with soulful, sexy grooves, and soon he had taken her in his arms, dancing around the kitchen. The sangria loosened their dancing styles and he twirled her around the kitchen, watching the hem of her dress rise as she did. They swayed together with his arms around her, her ass pulled tightly against the front of his khakis. Soon the button at her navel was deemed unnecessary and only two remained. She pried his hands open and took the bowl of fruit from the fridge. "High school rules?" she asked, slipping a piece of banana between her lips." "Fuck high school rules," he said, taking a bite of the fruit and rending all but a final button useless on her dress. She pushed him back against the butcher block. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, taking the time to kiss, nibble and lick the newly-exposed skin before undoing another. Soon she pulled the shirt from his shoulders and attacked his nipples. She knew this was one of his favorite erogenous zones and she aggressively put her teeth to work. This was far rougher than she would like her own nipples treated, but he loved it and she loved to please him. They returned to dancing and he spun her a couple of times, then was again behind her, rocking with the music, this time with his hands on her exposed breasts. She reached an arm behind his neck, pressing her chest out, begging him to fondle her. She turned and unzipped his shorts, allowing them to fall to the floor. She kissed his mouth as her hand stroked the length of his hardness. Again she pushed him back against the table and was on her knees. Her tongue explored the thick vein beneath, laying her tongue flat against it. She licked and nibbled gently, slowly, methodically, exploring every wrinkle, every change in texture that presented itself to her mouth. As her hands stroked his shaft she allowed each testicle in turn to drop into her mouth and she played with each with her tongue. Knowing he had just showered she even licked his perineum applying just the right amount of force with the tip of her tongue to make his knees weak. As her hands continued to stroke him she carefully studied the head. Larger than most, it was deliciously smooth with just a trace of precum beginning to ooze. She eagerly licked that up, and then worked his length into her mouth. She was quite proud of her oral skills and soon his entire cock was in her mouth. She held it there for a second then pulled back until just the head was between her lips. She caught his gaze and they locked eyes as her mouth continued to work its magic. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uS870zCCAwM&feature=related He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. His hands released the final button and the dress fell away onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. She instructed him sit on the butcher block and he gladly complied, his butt on the edge. Her hand stroked him as they kissed. She paused for a moment to allow each nipple to massage his hardness, then she again wrapped her mouth around him. She paused for a moment and looked into his eyes. "Honey, will you do me a favor?" she asked coyly. "Anything." At this moment he meant it. "I'd really like it if you'd cum in my mouth for me," she purred. Unable to speak he nodded to his agreement. She quickened the pace with both her mouth and her hands and started to hear the changes in his breathing and guttural noises that let her know he was close. It was an incredible feeling of power and authority that she loved. It was ironic. She was on her knees, the traditional position of submission, but it was she who was in charge. "Oh god, baby, I'm cumming," he announced. She opened her mouth wide, allowing him to empty himself into her. Her hands gently stroked the last of his orgasm from the head. She looked up at him, grinned, and swallowed his gift to her. He again pulled her to him and kissed her, tasting himself in her mouth. She climbed on top of him, intertwining their naked bodies as they continued to kiss. Soon she added a rocking motion in her hips and was awarded with him again becoming fully erect. She slid off of him and, gently tugged on her favorite toy, encouraged him to stand as well. She sat on the edge of the table and spread her legs, inviting him to enter her. He did so, slowly and gently as she watched him bury himself into her inch by inch. She lay back on the table and he guided her hands to her clit. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and moved her ankles to his shoulders. As he slowly pumped in and out of her she played with different angles, her feet on both shoulders, or over on just one, feet flat on the table or wrapped around his waist The whole time they admired each other's bronze skin and he always enjoyed watching her breasts bounce with each thrust. His hands reached under the small of her back and scooped her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their mouths again found each other's as she loved the feel of his skin against hers and his strength supporting her. Eventually she let go of his neck and slid down to the floor, releasing his cock. She turned and faced the butcher block, offering him a shy smile then bending over and reaching for the far edge of the surface. From behind he spread her legs a bit further and knelt down, darting his tongue and fingers in and out of her very warm wetness. Not one to pass up such an opportunity his hands were all over her magnificent ass, enjoying what little pale skin was left on her body. She felt his head just at her opening, then groaned deeply as he fully impaled her with a single thrust. She flattened her torso against the smooth wood and enjoyed the feeling of being so very full of him. They settled into a slow, steady rhythm. It wasn't the frantic, wild fucking that this position lends itself to (and that they had enjoyed before) but the pure pleasure of having their bodies seamlessly connected. She reached back, between his legs, and gave his balls a gentle tickle, her secret weapon. Soon his breathing and pace increased, as did the strength of his thrusts. She noticed his hands on her hips took a stronger grip and soon he had a firm but still gentle grip on her hair. She felt her own orgasm growing within her. Well the truth was that with more than a full day of sex her orgasms seemed to always be bubbling near the surface and within just a few more seconds she once again began to let out the cry of her pleasure. This sent him over the edge and soon she was awash in his cum, her pelvic muscles gently milking every drop into her. Exhausted, she climbed up on the table and curled up. He spooned in behind her, having grabbed her long-discarded dress to use as a cover until they were again able to move. She awoke an hour or so later to the sound of his voice on the house phone. "That's right, package number 9, if you could send that right over." She rolled over and apparently looked puzzled. "No worries, sweeties, I just called the desk to send over a treat for later," he said and kissed her. She threw on the discarded dress and pulled the pitcher of water from the fridge and filled a tall glass, then found the bowl of fruit that had been ignored halfway through their last session. As they shared a snack some rehydration, the doorbell rang. "Whatever you just ordered I think arrived," she called, walking down the hallway. She opened the door and was surprised to see Maria there, holding a box that a dozen donuts may have come in. The chef was apparently off duty and was wearing a bright yellow blouse and a short, khaki skirt. The blouse was sleeveless and fell just short of the waistband of the skirt. Her deeply-tanned skin was a stark contrast to the bright fabric. With her was Angelo, their bellman from their arrival. If a movie was ever made of Angelo's life his role would surely be played by Antonio Banderas, tall and muscular with lots of wavy dark hair and a strong chin. "Have you brought us dessert?" she asked and before Maria could object had taken the box from her. She yanked open the box and was surprised to see not pastries, but some different treats. There were four silk cords with fringed tassels, each about six or eight feet long. There was also a bright red blindfold and in the bottom there seemed to be a variety of other items. She quickly closed the box in embarrassment But the chef reassured her. "Oh miss, please don't worry, that's what a resort like this is for, to relax and have fun, do all those things you wish you could do at home but never do." She hesitated, then added, "Many of our guests even do things they would never do at home." The two women seemed to embrace as the chef whispered something in her ear. She turned to him, "So it seems you're feeling a bit kinky, eh?" she said with a grin. He nodded. "Are you feeling kinky enough to let our friends here watch?" He took deep breath and got his knees back under him. "I think we should define 'watch'." Always the pragmatist. "Simple, you, I and these lovely items in the box are on the bed. Maria and Angelo are on that beautiful white sofa in the bedroom and never the twain shall meet." The other three were nodding in agreement. He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. He pulled the covers back on the bed and lifted her dress over her head. She sat back in the center of the bed and eagerly raised her hands to the headboard. He was firm but loving as he secured each wrist to the two top posters of the bed. Being an Eagle Scout did, afterall, have its benefits. "If at any time you become uncomfortable and want me to stop, just say the word 'rootbeer'," he told her. "You can complain and scream all you want, but the safe word is 'rootbeer'." She nodded. He tied her feet to the other two posts and suddenly she felt self-conscious, spread eagle and naked in front of two strangers. He offered the blindfold but she declined. "It would be a shame not to be able to take in all of the beauty this island has to offer," she said, looking at their guests who had settled in not six feet away from where she was on display. He emptied the content of the box onto the bedside table, showing her the bottle of massage oil, a variety of vibrators still in the original package, an ostrich feather, a black riding crop and a short wooden paddle. "OK?" he asked. She hesitated, then nodded. "Ropes are OK?" Another nod. "Did you happen to notice the Velcro on the inside of the canopy of the bed?" Angelo asked. They had not, but with the suggestion, a panel covering most of the area was visible. He reached up and gave it a tug. The fabric peeled away to reveal her reflection in the mirror hanging above her. She watched in the mirror as he knelt next to her on the bed and took the massage oil. He warmed it a bit in his hand then spread it across her breasts and her very erect nipples. She loved how the dark skin glistened after his touch and the feel of his silky smooth touch on her. He slowly, meticulously worked across her shoulders, chest and flat stomach as she watched. As he moved to kneel between her legs she looked over to see Angelo sitting with one leg on the floor and the other along the back of the seat of the couch. Maria sat between them, the back of her head resting on his shoulder and the front of her blouse unbuttoned. His hand covered her breasts, toying lazily with her body. Back on the bed he traced the back of a fingernail along the outline of her pubic hair, tickling lightly and promoting blood flow to the region. He leaned forward and guided himself into her, then knelt again with his head pressing against her g-spot with each slow thrust. She watched in the mirror as his hand went to her clit and slowly massaged it. Her gaze went to the couch to see Maria had shed her blouse and turned to face Angelo. His hands were on her ass and her nipples in his mouth. Her long, dark hair swayed against her bare back as she moved. A tiny fuchsia thong was visible beneath her raised skirt. She began pulling against her restraints as perhaps the 1200th orgasm of the week began to build in her toes. The fingers on her clit helped move the orgasm to her lower thighs until it stopped abruptly. He offered a sly grin, apathetic toward her needs. She pouted. Unfortunately, he enjoyed her pouts and it did her no good whatsoever. He put the massage oil back and took the ostrich feather. She loved the light touch that made her skin tingle. He tickled her ear with it, then went down the left side of her neck to her left breast, which he dawdled on for some time, then the left side of her stomach and briefly between her legs. It went down the outside of her left leg, quickly between her legs again, then up that leg for more time in her pleasure zone. Her eyes were open to mere slits but she saw Maria slide down Angelo's body to kneel between his legs. He wrapped her hair around his fist and sat back, enjoying the pleasures she offered to him. The ostrich feather found her right breast and it tickled her breast before ducking back between her legs. The feather was soon replaced with his mouth, nipping and tugging at her swollen clit. He had a finger in her, again pressing against her g-spot as his tongue did its magic. She wanted desperately to touch him, grab him, stroke him, but her silken bonds kept her hands in place. She evidently grew a bit louder, as she saw Maria turn and watch them as she continued stroking Angelo's impressive hardness. Her moans had just given away to the pre-orgasm silence when he stopped abruptly and kissed her mouth. She began to wonder how long she could take this kind of torture. But she had no doubt she was going to find out. He removed a vibrator from its packaging and switched it to the low setting. It slid effortlessly into her very wet box. He lay down next to her and slowly worked it in and out of her as they watched their guests. As if waiting for their full attention, Maria stood and shimmied out of her thong and removed Angelo's pants. He slouched to the edge of the sofa cushion and Maria again sat on his lap, but this time facing the bed with her hands on his knees. She lowered herself onto his hardness and the couple watched him bury himself into her smoothly-shaved womanhood. The unique position gave them a full view of the beautiful woman as she worked him in and out of her. He turned the vibrator up a notch to medium and slightly increased the speed of his hand. The results were predictable. Maria again slipped off him and knelt in front of the couch. Her hand worked in a corkscrew motion on the shaft as she licked the head. They noticed that the two were perfectly-aligned to give the couple on the bed a clear view of the action and they concluded that Maria and Angelo were no strangers to this situation. The vibrator went to high. It was clear that Angelo was about to erupt and they both waited eagerly to see what Maria would do. She kept to her task and as he released his load she aimed his head toward her chest. The thick globs of cum splattered her as she continued to stroke him. Soon her tongue cleaned him off. Then she turned an eye to the bed. "Would you like some," she asked, offering a gooey breast to her hostess. Back home she never would have agreed, might even have been offended, but this was a different setting and she found herself saying "yes." She tasted Angelo's offering from the woman's breast and was enveloped in the thought of the naughty play. She cleaned Maria's breasts, then gently nudged her back to the couch as the vibrator was replaced with a tongue after her restraints were removed. She found herself on top of him in a 69 position and as an orgasm built for a third time she tried desperately to muffle her cries lest she again be denied. But he continued to lap at her wetness until she was awash with pleasure. It was a nearly-crippling orgasm that pulsed through her, leaving her body limp against his and his face covered in her pleasure. It was some minutes before she could move and when she did she noticed the couch was vacant except for a brightly-covered thong that was left folded neatly on the arm. His mind raced ahead to dinner the following night.