2 comments/ 62140 views/ 2 favorites The Basting Thread Weekend By: Dixiedevil67 The Basting Thread Weekend Walking to the sliding glass doors, in the back of the room, he flipped open the latch and slid one door open. Michael struggled with the door as the old tracks stuck, forcing a little more effort. Stepping outside, he could see the wooden steps and walkway that crossed the barrier dune between the inn and the beach. He noticed a large woman in a one-piece bathing suit walking up the steps; two small children following close behind. Making his way back inside he again walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light switch next to the doorway. As the florescent bulbs flickered on, his eyes were drawn to a note, wedged between the faucet tap and handles on the vanity. Opening the folded paper, Michael could tell it was Taylor's handwriting. Sweetie, You had so much fun last night. I knew you would be tired, so I decided to let you sleep a while. When you get up, meet me on the beach. Love Taylor "So much fun?" Michael wondered aloud. "What the hell did we do?" He cursed his obviously alcohol induced amnesia. It was just his luck. They had obviously had a wild and unforgettable night, and he couldn't remember any of it. He braced his hands on the vanity top and leaned into the mirror. He looked like shit and his head throbbed. "Damn ... We really did have a wonderful time." After brushing his teeth, a shave, and a quick shower, Michael pulled on a pair of shorts and donned his favorite tropical shirt. Slipping into a pair of flip-flops, he grabbed a beach towel and one of the flimsy, folding beach chairs they had brought with them. Sticking the room key in his shirt pocket, he locked the front door and pulled it shut behind him. As Michael strolled around to the back of the inn he found it difficult to walk as he trudged through the fine white sand. His flip-flops clapped on his heels with each step, and he constantly had to stop and slip back into the footwear as one or the other fell off his feet. Finally, he gave up and pulled the items off, opting to carry them. Reaching the wooden walkway, he found his trek a little easier. Walking up the stairs he could feel the sand rub between his toes and the soles of his feet. As he drew closer to the top, Michael could hear the roar of the surf as wave after wave crashed onto the beach. He could smell the salt air, and looking to the sky, he could only see one tiny cloud in the distance. He took a deep breath. Despite the lingering effects of the previous night, he was determined to find his wife and have a nice, relaxing day. Crossing the walkway and making his way down the stairs on the other side, Michael looked out at the white sand. It was nearly 10:30 and already the beach was crowded with young and old alike. Looking left and then right, he scanned the shore for Taylor. Looking at the blue metal and nylon beach chair under his arm, he looked out trying to find its mate. He also assumed Taylor had brought her beach umbrella, which he hated. It was a large blue and pink umbrella with a mosaic of seahorses displayed on its top. He thought the item looked childish, but he tolerated it because Taylor liked it. Looking to his left he noticed hundreds of people as they laid and played on the sandy coast. He watched as two small children tossed potato chips into the air and were bombarded by seagulls. He also noticed two beautiful girls as they walked down the beach, their bikinis barely covering their firm young asses. He shook his head as he watched them jiggle and bounce by the water's edge. Turning to his right he soon scanned Taylor's chair and umbrella, only a little ways down the beach. Michael zigzagged his way around the various chairs and towels that lay on the rippled sand. His attention was again drawn to another beautiful woman as she lay on a beach towel. She was on her stomach, the back of her top untied and hanging off the side of her body. He almost tripped over a small cooler as concentration was interrupted from his path. Finding his way to Taylor's spot, Michael pulled open his chair and set it beside hers. He then flung open the beach towel and draped it over the seat. Pulling out of his shirt, he slowly set back in the chair and raised his hand to his brow. Shielding the sun from his eyes, he scanned the waterline, looking for Taylor. He could see several heads in water as the swimmers bobbed and played in the waves. He watched as a couple of boys jumped onto small surfboards and rode the waves to the shore. "Hey!" a familiar voice yelled in the distance. Michael sat up and looked in all directions. "Michael!" the voice screamed again. Looking out to the water, he could see Taylor sitting on the back of a wave runner. She had her arms wrapped around a muscular, young man with short-cropped hair. He hopped up from the chair and walked to the water's edge. "Hi baby!" she hollered as she waved. Michael waved and grinned. "What you doing?" he yelled back. "This is Billy!" she answered. "He's taking me for a ride on this Jet Ski thingy! That okay?" "Sure baby," he said while giving a thumbs up. "Be careful and have fun!" He watched as Taylor giggled and whispered in Billy's ear. She then patted him on the shoulder and suddenly the vessel roared forward. Michael smiled and began to turn back towards his chair, but something caught his attention. Quickly turning back towards Taylor, he strained his eyes as the pair skimmed out across the water. "Oh my God," he said aloud. "She's wearing the yellow bikini." "Hey! ... Hey!" Michael screamed, waving his arms wildly. He watched as the small craft bounced across the waves into the open sea, shooting a rooster tail of water out behind it. "Oh shit," he mumbled to himself. "I'm a dead man." As he staggered back to his chair, his mouth hung open. He looked as if he were in a daze as he turned back to the water. The wave runner was now only a small white dot on the horizon. He imagined the headlines in tomorrow's paper. "Man found dead in motel room ... penis ripped from body." Suddenly his hangover felt a little worse. The Basting Thread Weekend The towel around her, Taylor grabbed a handful of the cloth at her chest, with the other hand clutching the fabric at her waist. Billy followed behind, keeping his hands at her back and steadying her body as they navigated to the breaking waves. She found it harder to walk in the surf as they drew close to the waterline. They were only twenty feet from dry land, and the waves alternated between smaller three-foot crests, followed by a series of larger four-foot breaks. "Only a few more feet," she said to herself as she struggled to keep the towel in place. Suddenly, Taylor felt her feet come out from under her as a large wave crashed across her body. As she tumbled in the water, she heard her muffled screech, mixed with the clatter of the surf, as she attempted to scream beneath the surface. Feeling the wet grit of sand as it rushed over her body, she reached down with her hands she grabbed at the bottom of the surf. Attempting to push herself out of the deluge, she felt the rush of water slow and change direction. Almost as quickly as the wave had crashed in, Taylor felt the water spread and recede, and she found herself lying on the beach. Stunned, Taylor laid on her back for a second. She could feel the water rushing around her body as it flowed back out to sea. Looking up, she could see the blue sky and felt the warmth of the sun on her flesh. It was then that she quickly pulled herself upright, realizing her towel was no longer wrapped around her body. Looking around, Taylor realized she had been washed ashore by the wave. But, the same crashing breaker had also ripped her towel from her grip. She looked to the water, hoping the towel had washed up next to her, but it was nowhere to be seen. She could see Billy on his hands and knees just at the water's edge. His mouth was open and he had a surprised look in his eyes as he stared at her. "Oh my God," she shrieked as she looked down at her bare flesh. Quickly hopping to her feet, Taylor looked back towards the direction of her motel. She could see hundreds of people as they stared and gawked at her. There were a group of boys standing just a few feet to her right, holding their surf boards under their arms and grinning from ear to ear as they pointed at her. Just beyond them, she noticed a large woman sitting on a small inflatable raft. The woman had a white towel, draped over her shoulder. Like a sprinter in a hundred-yard dash, Taylor darted for the woman. The sand beneath her feet was hot and abrasive, and she could feel her exposed breasts bouncing with her stride. Without slowing her pace, she yanked the towel from the woman's shoulders, causing the lady to tumble backwards and roll in the sand. Quickly, she unfurled the cloth and wrapped it around her naked torso. "Sorry!" Taylor yelled as she continued to run towards her motel. "I'll bring this back in just a minute!" Taylor could hear the woman yelp and scream as she continued to run towards her room. "That naked woman just stole my towel!" echoed across the shoreline. Undaunted, Taylor focussed on the wooden walkway that crossed the dune to her motel. She found that the towel she had just taken was not a beach towel, but rather a bathroom towel the woman had probably stolen from one of the motels. It was small and left one side of her body exposed. It was also short and revealed the bottom of her ass as she ran across the rippled beach. She could feel hundreds of eyes upon her, but she could only see her escape; the walkway was only a hundred yards away. Seeing Michael seated in his chair, Taylor yelled. "Hey ... Michael! ... Michael!" Surprised, Michael looked up and popped out of his chair. Taylor was running straight for him and she had a wild look in her eyes. "Well, this is it," he thought to himself. "I've had a good life. I just wish it didn't have to end here." Shocked, Michael's mouth fell open as he watched Taylor run past him and make for the walkway. She darted across the sand, jumping over the beautiful sunbather he had noticed earlier. Startled, the woman jumped up, forgetting that her top was untied and revealing her perky, round globes. Realizing her mistake, the woman quickly knelt down, grabbed the beach towel she had been laying on, and wrapped it around her. "Meet me at the room!" Taylor yelled as she started up the walkway. As she leapt two steps at a time, he noticed her bare bottom wiggle and bounce as the white towel she was wearing fluttered up behind her. "This is going to be interesting," Michael muttered to himself as he grabbed his shirt. Rubbing his forehead, he watched as Taylor disappeared across the walkway. "Maybe she'll let me have a drink before she kills me." The Basting Thread Weekend Her body was now on fire and tingled from within. Taylor could feel her temperature rise and her pulse race through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip and tried to control her breathing. "That feels so good baby," she whispered. "Don't stop ... Don't you dare stop." Her words gave him encouragement and he increased his assault even more vitality. Taylor again grabbed at the headboard and gripped its top. She could feel her vulva swell and drip with delight. She pushed her hips up, wanting his tongue deep inside her. Squealing in her pleasure, she could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She could sense the electric sensation building from deep inside her. Her body tingled; her muscles clinched. Suddenly Taylor let out a scream of elation. "Mmm!" she moaned as her body pulsed and quivered in the wake of a powerful orgasm. Her body tingled and locked as she arched her back. "Oh God," she said between labored breaths. "Fuck me baby! Fuck me now!" Taylor could feel him push his body up and crawl on top of her, kissing and probing her flesh with his tongue along the way. Popping his head from beneath the covers Billy smiled as he looked down into her brown eyes. "Oh my God!" Taylor yelled as she looked in disbelief. Before she could say another word, she felt his soft lips press against hers, and his tongue mingled with her own. She could feel his erect penis as it probed around her already wet and sopping mound. "Billy!" she yelled as she pushed him away from her face. "Shhh," Billy whispered. "I can go all night baby." He smiled as he again pressed his lips to hers, giving her another passionate kiss. Without using his hands, he positioned his stiff rod against her and with a gentle thrust, entered her dripping pussy. Startled Taylor tried to speak, but Billy's tongue was deep in her throat. She wanted to yell for him to stop, but as she felt him thrust inside, her body betrayed her. She was so wet; he had little trouble as he slid his way inside her. He was large and thick and she grunted as she felt him push as far as he could go. "Oh God!" Taylor cried as she gasped for air. As she wrapped her arms around Billy, she looked around the room. "Where is Michael?" she asked herself. "Am I so drunk I'm in the wrong room? Oh God, Michael is going to kill me." Her attention was quickly brought back to Billy as she felt him nearly pull out, then slowly slide back in. Taylor surprised herself as she let out a moan of delight. "What the fuck am I doing?" she asked herself. She wondered how she came to this predicament. Looking up, she gazed into Billy's eyes and watched as he smiled at her. "God, he's so cute," she thought to herself. "And he feels so damn good." Billy pushed his upper body up with his arms as he slowly began to grind his hips. Taylor was so wet, he could feel her juices as they ran down across his scrotum. Looking down he gazed at her beautiful body in the dim light; her perk breast pushed slightly to her sides. He noticed her dark areolas, puckered with her hardened nipples. Her golden hair was draped across one shoulder and her eyes were big and seductive. He watched as she slowly ran her tongue across her pouty lips. They were full and red, and they glistened in the faint illumination. He slowly increased his pace. Taylor could hardly believe her situation as she gazed up at Billy in silence. She was astonished to find that she had subconsciously raised her knees and locked her legs around his back. She also found that she was softly grinding her hips with his motion. She could feel his buff body as his muscles tensed and flexed with their movement. His body was tight and hard, and she could feel his firm ass at her heels. Reaching up she ran her fingers through his hair. She felt shame at her lack of self-control. How could she do this to Michael? They had their troubles, and their sex life had become dull and monotonous lately, but she knew she loved him. Now, somehow she found herself being fucked alone by a relative stranger, fourteen years younger her junior. And, she enjoyed every gentle thrust. Taylor closed her eyes as she felt Billy grab her legs. He hooked the under side of her knees with his inner arms, forcing her knees up to her chest. The position also forced her hips upwards, giving him direct access to her throbbing mound. She let out a loud groan as he pushed his rod as deep as it could possibly go. He then held the position, and she could feel his balls as they fell across her ass. She felt as though he would rip her apart. Slowly, Taylor felt Billy begin to pull in and out, and she found herself breathing in rhythm with his thrusts. She could hear him grunting and taking his breaths through his nose as he invaded her. She again felt him grab her legs, this time forcing them up to his shoulders. As he did, he grabbed each wrist and pinned her arms to the bed. The new pose almost doubled her in half and left her totally immobile and vulnerable. She couldn't move if she had wanted to, and she found the sensation exhilarating. Her feet at each side of his head, Billy again began to move his dick back and forth inside her. Though Taylor tried to restrain herself, she soon let out a series of loud moans and groans. "Ah!" she cried as his member pushed into her depths. Opening her eyes, she looked at Billy's face. His eyes were closed, and he grimaced and scowled as he huffed and puffed atop her. Giving a quick glance out the front window, Taylor gave a frown. "I wonder where Michael is?" she asked herself. She felt her heart tremble, as a sense of shame rolled over her body. Her body was in ecstasy, but somehow she felt like she wanted to cry.