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Isle of Lays Ch. 01

By: SkinandSin



Charlaine took in the view speeding past the limousine service car's heavily-tinted windows as she sped to her destination in air-conditioned comfort. Her job as a high-flying quality control consultant just paid off at times like these, she thought to herself with a satisfied pucker of red lips as she cocked one delicately arched brow. Them are the perks.

It was rather disconcerting, at first, to realize that there was a six-star sex resort right on one of the thousand or so islands that make up the archipelago of her birth. Well, it was a very upscale (and extremely discreet) resort catering to the most discerning and chi-chi of sex tourists, if the by-invitation-only website advertising the place to a select and moneyed few was to be believed, Charlaine mused.

She only got this enviable access because she was hired with a six-figure check in pounds sterling to evaluate the place and recommend any possible improvements by the reclusive billionaire who owned it. That and she had happily signed a non-disclosure agreement and waiver for payment up front and a fully paid sexperience to end all sexperiences as part of the deal. One full month of "service quality assessment" in the sun, sand and various sets of pants. These were the times Charlaine just loved her job.

Vivaldi's Summer was the perfect soundtrack for the view of verdant tropical vegetation and acacia trees as thick around the trunk as bulldozers shimmering in the summer heat -- a haze that was probably the same temperature as certain very female parts of her anatomy. 

It was the slow, delicious scorching of anticipation she felt moving between nipples and clitoris, bisecting her torso in a delightful series of frissons when she arrived the private harbor where the last leg of her journey would begin. 

She would continue by sea to the pristine crescent island where the Odalisque Resort sat gleaming like a brooch of white stucco, silver glass and gold enamel set in gardens and forests of emerald, amethyst, amber and ruby dotted with sapphire infinity pools.

Pressing her legs together, Charlaine closed her eyes to the local scenes flashing past, weaving her fantasy on the loom of her imagination, plucking the gorgeous mainlanders' cafe au lait faces and putting them in her own private show as her thumbs traced light little circles on the pale skin of her inner arms. A smile curved heavenward from her plump red lips and her head fell gently against the black leather backrest of her seat. 

She could feel all her work stress from travel and the usual strictures that go with her stock-in-trade fading to the backstage of memory as she created lips and hands with her thoughts. Lips and hands that would skim her creamy mestiza skin lightly, gently rub the fabric of her silk blouse against nipples that were already rock-hard and so very sensitive. 

Her back arched and her feet went pigeon-toed in their red fuck-me heels as she pressed her knees against each other and rubbed her thighs together. She ran hands trembling with anticipation and arousal through her raven curls and sighed. Oh, she was almost there. 

+++

The yacht was magnificent, Charlaine noted, with a golden gleam in light brown eyes that reflected the shining gold and black trim on the shipshape white vessel. 

She spared the gleaming blue water an appreciative glance, then lowered her thick lashes coyly as one of the crewmen approached to relieve the driver of her bags, pass the luggage off to another crewman and greet her with a deeply dimpled smile that flashed even white teeth set in an equally handsome face. Standing in the bright sun, he looked godlike – as if a master sculptor had chiseled him into being. 

In the minutes that the sailor who greeted Charlaine had his back turned to her, she took the opportunity to ogle his tightly-muscled hindquarters with undisguised lust and frank appreciation. 

Looking around, she saw a multi-culti crew all dressed in smart white uniforms with black and gold epaulets. Their clothing seemed to be cut to show off their toned and tanned bodies to maximum sensual effect without baring too much skin. Mmmm. Delicious, she thought. Like expensive chocolate truffles all wrapped in the prettiest foil.

"Welcome aboard, Ms. Caro. My name is Jaime, I am the First Mate of the Siren," he said slow, lazy smile as he put a deeply tanned hand to his white uniform cap. "Your pleasure is my delight. Just let me know what you need." His dark eyes swept over her from top to toe and told her that he would, indeed, be most delighted to serve her every need. So did the very thick, very long bulge straining the zipper of his white pants.

"Thank you, Jaime," Charlaine said, her voice husky with self-inflicted arousal as she put her hand in his large, outstretched palm so he could steady her as she walked up the gangplank to the shiny mahogany deck. "How long will it take to get to the resort? I can't wait to begin my vacation."

"Your vacation begins right now, Ma'am," Jaime said as he waved her to the receiving area and lounge of the ship. "You may select your pleasures from the menus available at the lounge. Just let the stewards know what you want and you will have it."

"And if I want you?" Her blunt question was rolled like loaded dice in Jaime's general direction. That triggered a grin and a low chuckle as Jaime put a flute of Dom Perignon in the hand she'd raised along with her question. "Then I am yours until you want something or someone else. Just remember that we are here to whet your appetite for the main course, which will, of course, be served on the Isle of Lays, at the resort."

She'd looked over the menu with happy eyes and decided to get the "Sensual Waxworks and Oil Massage" treatment to prepare for the sun, sand, beach and playrooms at Odalisque resort. 

+++

Having five very handsome, extremely hunky and shirtless men skillfully rubbing her body with sweet, peach-scented oil as the hair down there was taken off took the sting out of the depilation of her woman zones and legs. That done, they took the massage to a new level.

"Look at those beautiful breasts, Jaime," one of the men said in a voice like hot chocolate. "Such lovely nipples standing straight up, pointing to the sun." Jaime nodded in agreement as he ran a hand over Charlaine's now-bare pudendum. "She has such sleek legs and a lovely little pussy, too. So demure, so shy. I'm sure we can get it to open up to us if we treat it right, eh, Tomas?" But how Charlaine's pussy began to twitch as she listened to their words. How it clenched and grew so very wet.

The very thought of lying there, naked and getting even more bare as they caressed her deep pink nipples, the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and those sensitive spots between her toes made her shiver in the sunshine as she lay stretched over a specially-engineered massage table upholstered in white leather on the upper deck. That table was divided down half its length, with each lengthwise half designed to swing outward.

Her shoulder-length hair had been put up in a French braid and tucked under to keep it out of her face and so her neck was bare to the cool breeze, the warm sunshine and the talented hands of the Siren crew that were attending to her body.

A pair of warm, full lips brushed against her ear: "Turn over, please. We're going to do your back, Ma'am." It was Jaime, his voice thick like dark honey, his bare chest and eight-pack dominating her line of sight. She could see his nipples were hard, too. 

Charlaine did as Jaime bid and warmed oil was poured in a slow line of seduction down her spine from shoulder to just above the crack of her rounded ass, along the length of each arm, in circles over each butt cheek and down the backs of her thighs and legs. Large hands began to work the oil slowly into her skin and she closed her eyes blissfully, taking in the scents of the oils and the men surrounding her. 

By this time Charlaine was so wet she was sure her arousal was dripping to the table as the crewmen's hands began massaging oil over her extremities, all over her back and down the seams of her inner thighs, skimming the freshly waxed lips of her sex. 

She bit back a moan as those fingers circled closer to her pulsing core and Jaime's full lips approached her ear once more. "Do you have any special requests, Ma'am?" His question sounded so inviting, so sexy, so turned on that her little moans escaped as she turned her head toward him. "Kiss me," she said, her voice trembling with want, her limbs doing the same and, unconsciously, she began to thrust her hips down against the warm leather of the massage table. 

Jaime complied by cupping her chin, trailing his lips across hers once and lightly licking at the line between her upper and lower lips. She moaned while he increased the pressure of his lips on hers and began involving his tongue just as the table's divided "legs" were swung outward and she felt someone's breath and lips moving along the inside of her legs -- up one leg, down the other and back again.

South of her navel, another set of hands was increasing their pressure against her nether lips, parting them and pressing then together firmly and, yes, a tongue began to get frisky there, darting quickly in and out of her core as a slick thumb began rubbing gently but firmly around her naughtiest hole and that talented tongue began rimming her there, too. 

She gasped at the melange of sensations heightening the warmth of sunshine and the cool sea air on her oiled skin and she thrust her tongue against Jaime's with the urgency of intense need, pleading each twist of her against him as two more sets of hands caressed her buttocks and thighs, ingiting erogenous zones she was just discovering she had. Then the mouth at her sex began some seriously heavenly sucking on her hard clit and she couldn't stop the crashing tide of pleasure rampaging through her body.

Charlaine came in two mouths. Her screams of orgasm spilling into Jaime while her clitoris spurted into another man's hot mouth as long, thick fingers pumped and curled (first one, then two) inside her pussy, rubbing that sweet spot that turned off her brain's ability to think, ran circles around her asshole and trailed up and down her legs and spine, left trails of fire with their tongues along the sides of her neck and nipped her earlobes softly in time to her groans. 

Jaime kept kissing her as she came, shuddering until she lost count of the intensifying orgasms that ended with her flipped over and the men continuing ther special massage as the went about licking and suckling on her nipples, her clitoris and pussy, her mouth, her fingers and toes. All this time three fingers were pumping her nether regions: The two already in her pussy and another, smaller one, just inside her tight ass to the first knuckle, but pumping all the same.

Oh, wow, five mouths all licking and sucking at all the right places and fingers everywhere. Oh, fuck. What she may have uttered, she did not recall at all. That thought was about the only coherent thing in Charlaine's ecstasy-addled mind by the time the ship approached its jetty and her attendants helped her up off the massage bed and into a nearby jacuzzi to rinse off the oil amid bubbles, scented bath gel and warm male bodies in the buff surrounding hers. 

Strong hands held her up, legs open, so the warm jets of water were aimed directly at her clitoris and she came several more times against a water jet and frisky fingers flicking her clitoris, fucking her pussy and ass and tweaking her nipples as she kissed dark and beefy Dominic, the tallest of her five masseurs and Siren's captain, who had visited the upper deck to give her his own special greeting.

The two hours and a half at sea took her across prime diving spots beneath fat seagulls circling overhead. Charlaine was relaxed and more than ready to dive into the pleasure of the crescent island and its white sand beaches. Not that she'd focused on the scenery, coming as much she had. She was, however, sure that the scenery was stunning, too.

+++ 

Dressed in a short denim skirt and a white tank top, sans undies (the dress code was "casual but commando" for new arrivals, Jaime had informed her as he confiscated her matching lace thong and demi-cup bra), Charlaine alit from deck to gangplank with a blissed-out expression that gave her face a lazy, sexual look, heightening the glow in her almond eyes and on her high cheekbones that was definitely not the light bronzer she'd applied on the plane.

My lord, if that was the appetizer, I wonder what more the Odalisque can do to top that. "Oh, Ms. Caro, there is a lot more the Odalisque can do for you," Dominic said with a sexy, roguish grin. "Much, much more. You haven't had sex until you've had it at the Odalisque. There is a pleasure for every kink you can think of and the only rules that apply are the ones you choose. You can even make your own fantasy and we will take you there in style."

Blushing at the fact that she'd spoken her thoughts out loud, Charlaine halted as her feet (now shod in black, Swarovski-studded flip-flops as a "greeting" gift from the captain, who'd sucked her pretty little toes before putting them on her himself) touched the powdery white sand of the island. She turned her head up to Dominic, her sudden unsureness clear as day in her brown eyes.

Gathering herself again, Charlaine reminded herself that she was here for business. Never mind that the business at hand was to sate every urge for pleasure she could think of -- she had to get herself together. 

Straightening up and cocking her head to the side with a smile at Dominic, she spoke in her best businesswoman voice: "Well, you did put the best foot forward on the Siren. I am sure the Odalique's hospitality will be most admirable."

With that, she walked up to the resort lobby situated in a plantation-style house behind which individual villas ensconced in private bamboo and hardwood groves rose up into the tropical sky.

Isle of Lays Ch. 02



Plantation chairs were set in casual little nooks of glass and behind divider screens with opaque panes inside the spacious lobby of the Odalisque Resort reception area. 

Paintings of classical nudes and free-standing sculptures chiseled from wood and stone of people engaged in various artful acts of fellatio, cunnilingus, fucking and extremely sexy bondage were placed in strategic areas of the lobby. 

All the better to get the guests in the mood right upon arrival, Charlaine mused. This is soooo working. My pussy hasn't seen a dry moment since the Siren. 

She cocked an eyebrow and looked around at the statues, he bottom lip caught between her teeth and her drenched pussy pulsing for another sweet release. Or two. Or more. Fuck, more. And more.

Even the plants are sexy, she thought as she gazed at the orchids, anthuriums and cattails sitting in cut crystal vases on side tables and the reception counter.

Charlaine's flip-flops slapped a soft rhythm on the polished terracotta tiles made intricate with erotic artwork beneath clear glaze as she walked to the reception counter. 

That structure was a long ironwood, wicker and brushed steel affair behind which stood the concierge and receptionist: A man of fair Nordic stock with ice-blue eyes and a petite woman of Malay ancestry whose glossy black hair was restrained in a tight bun with red, lacquered chopsticks in it. 

"Can you check me in, please? My name is Charlaine Caro." 

The receptionist introduced herself as Dawn and took down her check-in details (including any allergies she may have and whether she preferred to have sex with caucasians, Latinos, Asians, people of African ancestry or people of mixed race) with a friendly smile after letting her eyes linger on Charlaine's face and body just a touch longer than was businesslike before shooting a curve-ball of a question.

"Do you have any gender preferences, Ms. Caro?" Charlaine did a double take? 

"Gender preferences?" 

Dawn nodded and explained: "Do you prefer women or men or do you like both?" 

Charlaine chewed on her lower lip and thought over the matter for a few seconds before answering. "I am usually heterosexual, but I would be open to new experiences." 

Dawn nodded, smiled and went on to the next empty field on her digital form as she finished typing in Charlaine's response. "Are there any hard limits -- sexual activities you definitely will not engage in -- that you want to inform us of? That way we can insulate you from those activities."

"Oh, I don't get -- or do -- the pee or poop things. Nothing involving blood-sucking or cutting. No jail-bait for me and I hate videoke. Oh, and I come with a clean bill of health and am on contraceptives, if that's important," Charlaine answered swiftly, shoving aside her sudden discomfiture at the openness with which they spoke of such things and the lull in conversation. 

Dawn swiftly and unerringly entered her responses into the resort database before assuring her that the resort staff were all healthy and had regular checkups to ensure the status quo remained constant for "safety as well as pleasure."

Well, I have to hand it to them, these people can be very professional and composed when talking of things usually seen as dirty, depraved, even, Charlaine thought to herself as she observed Dawn's brisk efficiency and the way the woman kept a straight face through this most unusual registration process. 

I wonder what standard I'll use for assessing this place and all it offers? Maybe I'll just have to wing some of the standards bit. Her job did involve tough calls. This may well be one of them. Or several exquisitely tough calls. Anticipation shot through every firing nerve in Charlaine's body. Oh, yes, I love my job.

Again, Dawn got busy with the touchscreen display at the counter as a few other resort guests began coming in the doors. She then shot Charlaine another question: "Do you have any fetishes or sexual activities -- fellatio, cunnilingus, that sort of thing -- that you particularly enjoy and would like to have made available and customized for you?"

Charlaine's body began to heat up under that question and she pressed her thighs together to keep the wetness of her now-bald sex from dripping down her legs. 

"Okay, I don't know how to answer that. Would you have a sampler?" Soft gasps and groans began to reach her from the foyer, where the planter's' chairs sat before low ottomans and wicker coffee tables. 

"Very well, you shall have the suite with a little of everything. You are billeted in Villa Erotique and Andre here will serve at your pleasure," Dawn waved a graceful hand toward a wiry man of medium height wearing a linen shirt with a Mandarin collar trimmed in black and gold and loose black chinos, with a black and gold bellhop's cap on his head.

+++

Andre guided Charlaine to a side door of the plantation house, passing a group of six guests, two men and four women, who were receiving very oral greetings from some of the resort staff clad in white linen tops and black chinos. Obviously, these fresh-off-the-boat guests were regulars. 

The women were spread over the chairs, their legs dangling from the long wooden arms, their heads thrown back, and their skirts bunched up to the waist as their hips bucked wildly up and down upon the curves of the wicker seats. 

The men were standing in a semi-circle getting deep-throated quite expertly as they sipped drinks on the rocks from cut crystal scotch glasses, watching the women writhing and vocalizing with wild abandon before them with intense eyes.

"We serve aphrodisiacs on order, Ms. Caro," Andre said in a deep voice that matched his dark East Indies looks and accent as he walked slightly ahead of her. 

"You may choose to dine at our restaurants if you wish to mingle and you may also order any sexual activity you desire to have with your meal from our restaurant menus while you await your food." 

Andre waved a burnished and well-shaped hand toward the glass doors behind the concierge after putting Charlaine's carry-on bag on a gilded trolley molded in columns and spreads of a shiny brass orgy. 

"So, Andre, what amenities do you recommend?" Charlaine asked the question with feigned casualness that was actually equal parts curiosity, arousal and the need to fill in dead air.

"Should you wish to enjoy the outdoors, we have several Sexperience Tours to the hidden waterfalls at the center of the island, several private coves, the Canopy Swing Sex trek at our magnificent forest preserve or more sedate and conventional activites on the tennis courts or regular game rooms," Andre replied as he looked with a smile into her eyes. 

"We also offer scuba diving facilities and instructors and the use of jet-skis and water-skiing equipment." His voice sounded like fine whisky should taste: Mellow, deep, sexy with the promise of complete and utter inebriation.

Charlaine walked on, pausing briefly as she saw am erotic silhouette against one of the divider screens: A very buxom woman was bent over, one leg on the floor and the other up on the seat of a chair, her hands braced on the plantation chair's arms while a man with a muscular ass and what looked like a bellhop's cap held her by hip and shoulder, pumping into her furiously from behind with a very long, upward-curving scimitar of a cock. 

The most arousing thing about this scene,  Charlaine thought, is the vigor with which that woman's hair and breasts are swaying to and fro. She must be getting fucked but good. Well, it was way past time to leave all inhibitions behind and this scene made Charlaine do just that.  Sexperience incoming,  she said to herself with a wicked smile as she began walking again.

Andre, who had paused with Charlaine, continued his spiel as he resumed walking her to her room: "Our housekeeping staff may also be propositioned and had any way you like, should you desire them. The sex toys of your choice will be delivered to your villa by room service if you find that the selection in the bathroom and bedroom closets does not suit you. Condoms have been placed in each room of your suite for your convenience and we have wireless high-speed internet and high-definition televisions with easy and free access to our extensive library of erotic videos or live sex video feeds." 

On the more mundane topics, Andre added, "you may also want to use our spa and salon services. Just let the concierge know if you want them to add a few extras from the spa brochure in your room."

Charlaine stopped again and looked back at the counter to see the Nordic concierge stroking his arm up and down, the purple mushroom head of his cock peeking over the hardwood surface as his eyes stayed fixed on the group having oral sex. 

The receptionist was sucking on her forefinger and her other hand was out of sight, quite possibly wet and under her skirt as she watched the silhouette. 

Must be their masturbation break, then, Charlaine mused. They sure do like sex here and this must be part of their perk package. Intriguing incentives they have here. 

Andre paused with her and added: "You may wish to avail yourself of our unique person-to-person wake-up call services. Just call Dawn or Olaf and tell them whom you want and how you want to be awakened as well as at what time to rouse you." 

"Is there anything you don't offer, Andre?" Charlaine's voice had gone down a half-octave and it was in a husky whisper of wonderment that her words rushed out.

"Oh, there is very little we don't do," Andre replied with a mischievous grin and a sparkle in his dark eyes. "In addition to our laundry services, we also offer a personal boutique and shopper for you and a pantry and a full gourmet kitchen in your villa complete with a private chef of your choice -- naked or clothed. You may select the housekeeping staff you want servicing you from the catalog in your room." 

When they finally got to the door of Charlaine's villa Andre's demeanor was genial, though a flirtatious spark lit up his last sentence as he gave her a slight bow: "We do hope you take great and repeated pleasure in your stay at the Odalisque resort." 

She proferred a large tip to Andre before he could walk away, a tip that he accepted with a carnal wink and a charmingly crooked smile that showcased a deep dimple in his right cheek. As he turned to go, Andre left Charlaine with an amazing view of his beautiful, high ass cupped by those hide-nothing cotton chinos. 

+++

Charlaine took a deep breath as she closed the door and looked around her split-level villa. Her eyes fixed on a swing made of leather strips and rope hanging just beneath the sturdy hardwood rail of the loft where a huge circular bed covered in red linens and fat pillows sat. Across the swing was the biggest flat-screen TV she'd ever seen in her life.

She went over to switch on her laptop, which housekeeping had placed on a desk in a sunny little nook with a view of her own little garden of hibiscus, jade vines and tuberose bordered by bamboo and a mango tree or two.

The ergonomic chair at the little office nook was comfortable and very, very flexible, Charlaine found to her delight as she sat down to check her email.  Memory foam is so comfy, she thought, I think this may become my favorite chair. 

The resort's wireless internet also came with free porn, she recalled as she gave in to her curiosity and opened up her browser to look over the hotel's website, where she found several promising-looking links under "exclusive entertainment." 

The first link she clicked was "Butlers Undone," a live-feed link where the she was presented with a selection of thumbnails of the resort butlers in very sexy poses, their butler clothes artfully mussed -- a half-done fly here, an open shirt there, that sort of thing. 

So she clicked on the link of Butler Miguel Mola, a tall and sweet-looking Filipino mestizo (or so his bio on the site said) with a lovely tan, black eyes, utterly delicious lips and a butt to die for and she saw him in the shower, soaping up an erection that barely fit his hand as he leaned back against the shower stall's tiled wall, his leg muscles standing out as he worked his upstanding member. 

Miguel used profanity in Filipino and English quite fluently (and sexily) as he rinsed and stroked his very thick member, his head thrown back against the shower stall tile in abandon and his eyes closed in pleasure. 

That was when one of the chambermaids, a pretty, petite Chinese girl with pert breasts topped by brown little nipples and aureolae and long, smooth legs stripped off her uniform, entered the shower stall and began fingering herself as she bit down on her full lower lip. 

The chambermaid walked up to Miguel, whose eyes flew open because she had begun licking and sucking one of his pebbled nipples, plucking the other one as he increased the speed with which he stroked his pulsing cock and put another hand firmly to the back of her head as he groaned. 

Miguel's pleasure was apparent in the veins that stood out tensely on the back of that tanned hand and in the fact his fingers were buried in her smooth black hair as he began swearing softly in his native tongue.

The chambermaid sank slowly down to her knees, licking a wavering line down his torso before taking Miguel's fat cock into her mouth while he continued to stroke himself. She began finger-fucking herself from behind as she licked and sucked his thick member and he let go of it to put his hands on her head -- all the better to brace her with as he fucked her mouth right back. 

"Fuck! Chrissy, your mouth is so damn good on my cock, woman. Tang-ina, ang sarap mo," Miguel said through gritted teeth as the chambermaid's head bobbed up and down on his turgid shaft in time to his hips' bucking to and fro. 

The audio pickup was excellent and Charlaine could hear Chrissy moaning around Miguel's cock. He was shuddering on this side of a huge orgasm when he eased her mouth away from him and gently pulled her busy hand from her dripping (and landing-strip decorated) twat. The wet, sucking sounds of Chrissy's fingers coming out of her hot cunt were just as clear.

Obviously, this game was familiar to Chrissy and Miguel, because the woman didn't object. Instead, a huge grin lit up her face as she turned her back to Miguel and resumed her masturbation, rubbing a surprisingly large clit with fingers still covered in her womanly juices. 

"There's no hurry, Chrissy," Miguel crooned into the chambermaid's ear as he cupped her pert A-cup breasts and began rolling the chambermaid's nipples in that slow, sure way Charlaine always liked her nipples to be touched. He was licking the petite woman's ear and she rubbed herself faster as she writhed against Miguel's hard body.

"I want your cock in me," Chrissy's voice was thick with arousal, "in my mouth, in my cunt -- hell, you can fuck my ass if you want, just fuck me now, please."

A loud smack crackled through cables and across the laptop speakers as Miguel spanked Chrissy's delicately rounded butt. 

"Bad girl," he said, his voice suddenly full of a really domineering vibe. "You will get fucked when I decide you get fucked and I choose which hole I will fuck with this cock. You get to come when I say you may come. I command this cunt now." 

His hand went over the chambermaid's pussy as she whimpered. He spanked her some more right over her clit, the smack sounding wet and erotic set against the chambermaid's aroused gasp. 

Chrissy shuddered, her orgasm imminent when Miguel moved to hold her arms at her side. He nipped her earlobe sharply, licked it, and she cried out incoherently as he wrapped his arms around her. 

Under the mist of what looked like a hot shower, Miguel had crossed his arms around Chrissy's porcelain torso so his left hand was over her right breast and his right hand held her left breast. Then he began rolling her nipples slowly again, pinching them every now and then and giving a twist here and there.

"Spread your legs, Chrissy, let me see how wet you are. Why, you've wet yourself all over your asshole. It feels slick enough to fuck now." The words were a predatory growl, and the girl was very willing prey indeed.

Miguel's grin was dark with passion, his eyes intense as he looked right at the camera and Charlaine's heartbeat picked up pace. 

He seemed to be talking straight to her, not the chambermaid, and she opened her legs, too, her hands going straight for her gushing pussy as she hooked her legs over the arms of her ergo chair. 

Chrissy spread her legs as Miguel lifted her and slowly, slowly eased his cock into her, his hips gyrating as the chambermaid shut her eyes tight and bit down on her lower lip. 

Charlaine's fingers found her stiff clit and the slick, pulsing hole beneath it as the chambermaid began a slow, ecstatic moan and dropped her head back against Miguel's shoulder.

"Do you like that, sweetness? Sinking so slowly over my cock?" Miguel's tongue flicked out to lick Chrissy's ear as his fingers began slowly rubbing and rolling the chambermaid's pebbled nipples. 

"Yes..." the chambermaid moaned, her dark eyes glistened in both pain and ecstasy. "Yes, yes, fuck me. I won't break. I want your balls slapping against my ass-cheeks. Give it to me as hard as you can, Daddy." 

"Tell me where I've put my cock, sweet thing, tell Daddy how it feels. Tell me, or I'll stop and send you out of here," Miguel's voice was gravelly with arousal as he nipped the chambermaid's ear and drew shivers. 

The tone of his words shifted to one that demanded utter and complete satisfaction and would take no argument. His growls of pleasure became more animal and Charlaine felt intense shivers commuting between her brain and her womanly bits.

Chrissy was blushing now "You're in my... you're in my back hole, stretching me, fucking your fat dick to the hilt in my tight little ass and it hurts but it hurts good, Daddy. You're filling me up to the limit. Please keep fucking me, Daddy, Ohhh..."

Charlaine's hands were working overtime, rogering her swollen and open pussy with three fingers of one hand and strumming her clit with the other as her juices flooded the ergo chair seat. She, too, was moaning as she closed her eyes.

Her eyes shot open when she heard the horny little chambermaid's sudden crescendo of "ohs" and a low buzz. Miguel had begun rubbing the tip of a large, ridged black vibrator around her clit. Chrissy was standing on tiptoe, her palms slapping against the tiled wall behind them as she was impaled on Miguel's fat cock. 

"Come for me. I want to see you come for me." Again, Miguel was addressing the camera, playing to it, grinning, it seemed, straight at Charlaine. His voice was thick now, as if he could barely hold his come in his balls.

Both women uttered barely coherent replies: "Yes." They came in floods - Charlaine over the ergo chair and the desk in front of her, and Chrissy all over the shower floor. 

"That was beautiful," Miguel said, nuzzling Chrissy's neck as he kept the vibrator buzzing against the chambermaid's very erect clitoris and, without further ado, plunged it deep into her pussy before he began pumping her up and down over his cock. 

Chrissy was screaming now and Charlaine renewed her own frigging and finger-fucking, screaming right along with the chambermaid, making the chair she was in rock wildly. Thank goodness for good construction, Charlaine thought as she brought her come-covered fingers to her mouth and licked them clean. 

The orgasm via virtual threesome was mutual for all parties concerned as Miguel rammed Chrissy's ass with long, hard thrusts as the chambermaid hung onto his shoulder and neck, the vibrator still buzzing and held in place by her clenching vaginal muscles. 




Isle of Lays Ch. 02



Charlaine was still coming down from her post-orgasmic haze when she saw Miguel wink at the camera, pull out of Chrissy and turn the shower on as the couple began to lather each other up, starting at the groin. 

+++

This place is really bringing out everything I prefer to keep tucked firmly in a suit. And it feels so fanfuckintastic. Especially after dumping that selfish bastard of a balding banker back in Stockholm who wanted a 'compliant Eurasian wife,' Charlaine mused when her orgasm coma began to lift. I'd have loved him if he didn't keep coming and leaving me to fend for myself, but, that's water under the bridge. Now, where was I?

Shutting down the video feed, Charlaine opened up her word-processor program and did a quick sketch of her first impressions, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sketched out the new set of standards and parameters she'd be using in her evaluation sheets.

One parameter setting stood out:

"Pleasure scale 0-100," the basis being "anticipation of desires, sexual wish fulfillment efficiency and pleasure intensity."

Fucking around at work never felt this promisingly good. 



Isle of Lays Ch. 03



After taking a short power nap on the massive bed, Charlaine got settled in and was enjoying the sound of the slapping of sea against wet sand (why did that sound so erotic in this setting, like the sounds of balls slapping thighs and a hard cock fucking a dripping cunt?). 

She listened to the rustle of breezes through bamboo and and the trills and cooing of exotic birds coming in through the open picture-windows that opened out on the Villa Erotique's enclosed patio, which housed a raised hot tub big enough for six. 

The patio was covered in smooth and bamboo slats buffed to a high shine and it offered an excellent view of her very own infinity pool bordered by graceful stands of bamboo and delicately scented by rare jade vine blooms.

Charlaine looked over the brochures and menus spread out on the marble coffee table in the sunken living room beneath the loft at the eastern side of the villa, picking them up to read what other delights the Odalisque Resort offered.  These brochures and in-house magazines are beautifully done,  she assessed with a discerning eye and they did more than pass muster. 

They piqued her sense of adventure and turned it to thoughts of sexual creativity.  Let's get this house in order to get the show on the road, then.

She'd already selected her chambermaid (Jamaica, a willowy mulatta with endless legs, sparkling gray eyes and a lean, definitely feminine body any red-blooded woman would turn lesbian over), her butler (Miguel, who else?), her chef (Pietro, Italian, naked, with a 12-inch monster of a wang, killer obliques and delts, and a gorgeously wicked gleam in his clear green eyes) and a physical trainer/masseur (African-American, Matthew, with close-cropped hair, chocolate eyes you could lose yourself in, a beautifully-sculpted body, and hands that looked capable of playing Charlaine like a virtuoso violinist would play a solo Mozart piece on a Stradivarius at La Scala).

As for her wake-up call, Charlaine set it for 6 a.m., with Matthew and Pietro kissing her awake in all the right places and, if she felt really, really horny, well, poking her awake in the best of ways in every possible port. That way she could have a work-out and breakfast before seeing what they could do with her and the swing.

Next, she checked out the pantry, which had (thanks to her pre-departure e-questionnaire, of course) been stocked with her favorite brands of foodstuffs and beverages, plus some other items that she'd explore later -- including what looked like edible gourmet body paints and a soft, soft paintbrush that could, in another world, have been used for calligraphy. Perhaps it would. On her. Prior to a tongue-lashing of the sort she had high on her must-have sex list.

Charlaine's clothes had been arranged expertly in the walk-in wardrobe beside the loft bedroom. She also found a most impressive display of vibrators (small, dotted, two-pronged, double-headed, glow in the dark and impossibly huge, among other descriptions), things that looked like clamps linked by fine silver chains, velvet- and fur-lined handcuffs and leather shackles. 

There were also scarves and blindfolds of raw silk, naughty swimwear that looked like cobwebs of dental floss in seven candy colors, fuck-me platform pumps with six-inch stiletto heels in red and black, kinky thigh-high boots of the softest caramel leather, a rainbow's worth of teddies in delicate lace and leather corsets cut to show off one's nipples, ass and cunt to perfection, delicate stiletto mules and filmy robes to match the teddies, condoms and cock-rings. 

That was just one of the floor-to-ceiling cabinets. The others would wait because Charlaine was getting so very wet all over again.

On a large, raised circular dais in the center of the room and sitting on the thickest red shag carpet she'd ever seen was a top-of-the-line sybian with all the dongs and prongs amid an artful mess of large, fluffy, silk-covered throw pillows in black and red. I've only ever heard of this machine, read about it, Charlaine thought as she bit her lip and smiled. I'm going to have myself a lot of fun on that. 

Facing the dais were several beanbags. Obviously for partying with more than one person, she concluded with a raised eyebrow. Kinkier and kinkier. I could be riding the sybian for an audience that's getting it on or jacking off for me. Hello, Private Show.

The closet doors, when closed, formed banks of mirrors and, as she looked up, she saw the ceiling itself was mirrored and that the lights were cleverly concealed in the cornices. One "closet" actually concealed a vanity table with strategic lighting and the best cosmetics and scents money could buy. 

Oh, man, I am such a sucker for mirrors. I can see myself giving the best head ever while Miguel watches himself come in my mouth. Or maybe Matthew could be fucking me while I enjoy the chiaroscuro contrast of his cock pumping in and out of me. The possibilities of this room alone swirled around in Charlaine's head.

+++

She exited the wardrobe and crossed over to the other side of the loft to what could only be the bathroom. There she found a heavenly shower with eight shower heads, a choice of piped in music or bring-your-own-playlist through an iPod dock and digital controls for setting the water temperature, controlling the music and the shower heads. 

It was also big enough to hold at least four people and had metal-rimmed eyelets. For restraints, perhaps? The thought made Charlaine go into a heat haze.

Sunk into the Italian tile floor was a hot tub big enough to seat six, surrounded by free-standing shelves that held huge canisters of bath salts, bubble bath and other luxe toiletries, as well as warmed towels so thick and soft they could be used as shag carpet. 

Across the hot tub was a floor-to-ceiling glass wall overlooking the sea. Oh, wow, the possibilities of that, Charlaine smiled as she indulged a mini-fantasy of being fucked from the rear right up against the glass. Oh, yes. 

Behind a tempered glass wall shielded by canvas blinds was the commode (it even had a warmer in the seat) and sink over which sat a mirrored cabinet full of scented hand soaps, hand-towels and, of course, condoms. 

Several colorful dildos, butt plugs, lubricants (flavored and plain), clitoral vibrators and a well-stocked first-aid kit sat in a glass-fronted cabinet by the sink. The goods were displayed to perfection by track lighting inside the cabinet and the sight tweaked Charlaine's imagination some more.

She glossed her full lips with a very wet, very tense tongue as she undressed and stepped into the shower, tuberose-scented shower gel in hand and a definitely naughty smile on her face. She lathered up a luxuriously lush natural sponge molded like a set of cock and balls and began scrubbing the skin on her breasts with it. 

I wonder if someone is watching me, she thought to herself. Perhaps I should put on a show, like Miguel and Chrissy did. Because if someone is watching me, that would be so godamned hot, now that I think of it. I'd love to have someone get all horny for me, watching me touch myself in the shower. 

She rubbed the lather and sponge over her swelling breasts, taking extra time with her distended nipples, running the sponge between her legs and up and down the delta at the apex of her thighs as if she were fucking the lathery cock. 

Charlaine rubbed herself all over the areas she could reach with slow, sensuous motions as she fantasized about an audience of hard penises, furiously stroking hands, wet pussies and their choruses of gasps and groans issuing from o-shaped mouths.

There is always something good to be said for setting one's mind free, was Charlaine's last logical thought as her slippery fingers danced over her hard nipples and clit, as they pinched and twisted and plunged into hot cunt and hungry asshole and she came spurting all over the lowest showerhead, which was, surprise, level with her cunt and squirting back hot jets of water that felt oh-so-good on her pussy.

+++

Charlaine was descending the carpeted loft stairs to check out the TV offerings when her villa's doorbell rang. It was Miguel, clad in a most proper butler suit complete with lightweight coat and mirror-shined black patent leather wingtips.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Caro. I am Miguel, your butler. Welcome home to the Odaliqsue Resort. Is there anything you require? A cup of coffee perhaps, or something stronger from the wet bar?"

Charlaine barely had Miguel's words for the magnificence of his physique and the purely male beauty of his face. Then she remembered to breathe and settled her gaze on his as she moved aside to let him in. 

"You had me at 'wet,'" she said, mustering all the sexy she could and cocking her head to the side as Miguel moved to the bar and opened its cabinets to show her the available beverages. He quirked eyebrow and sent her a questioning look as she cleared her throat softly.

"There is this, well, this thing inside the wardrobe, sitting on a platform? Can you tell me what it is, Miguel? Oh, and call me Laine, please." She was nervously licking her lips, hoping to goodness Miguel would actually find her attractive as she tucked a stray curl behind one ear, her fine-boned face cast in shadow as she tilted her head forward and to the side. 

"Well, Laine, that's a sybian," Miguel said in an unflappable 'butler' voice. "It is a fucking machine with multiple speed and vibration settings. You can use it for single or double penetration if you attach the dildos, or just for clitoral stimulation without them. Would you like help with a test drive of the machine, perhaps?" 

Miguel's friendly smile grew wolfish, his brown eyes sparkling with simmering anticipation as he eyed her pretty, bare toes and skimmed up her smooth, long legs. 

 Oh, God, the way he looks at me is making me so horny I could dry hump him now and come repeatedly, Charlaine thought. I have to make a good impression, so I'd better behave myself first. 

She sat down on the leather love-seat and pressed shaky knees together as she sat, palms pressed to thighs.

"If it is not too forward of me, Laine, you are a very beautiful woman. I would love to show you how to use the sybian for your pleasure -- and mine." 

His eyes were taking in the gentle flare of her hips and her narrow waistline, flicking over the flatness of her belly and ascending the promontories of her C-cup breasts. 

"I also find myself wondering if your nipples are as delicious as they seem to be -- poking up as they are through your lovely top." Miguel licked his upper lip lightly and Charlaine's eyes followed that red tongue tip as if her life depended on it. 

"Oh, my," she replied, rubbing her thighs together in a gesture that said she wanted this but wasn't so sure how to go about claiming what she wanted. "Oh, I mean, yes, please show me how to use the sybian. But can you kiss me first? I like kissing. A lot." 

She began to rub her neck with one hand and one thigh with the other. Hot and bothered did not begin to describe her as she closed her eyes, wondering if she'd gotten wrong-footed. 

Miguel sat on the love-seat and took firm hold of Charlaine's neck with one hand, his fingers thrusting up through her hair. Then he pulled her gently, but inexorably into his arms and touched his lips to hers, licking them lightly as she let out a sigh out and wrapped her arms around his neck. He tasted of warm, dark chocolate and she found herself hungry for him. So very, very hungry.

"I do hope you followed the dress code for new arrivals, Laine," Miguel's voice was husky and rough now as he stood her up at the edge of the loveseat. "I'm such a stickler for rules and I would chastise you for being a bad girl if you didn't." 

That sent shivers up and down Charlaine's spine and made said shivers detour straight to her cunt, triggering a fresh flow of very copious natural lubrication down the insides of her shaking thighs. 

He put one arm around her waist, pinning her to the hard bulge at his groin as his other hand skimmed her shirt up, exposing her breasts. "So far, so good. I reward good girls. Now, pussy check." He tweaked her nipples as a reward and drew from her a long, low groan full of lust and anticipation.

Miguel's fingers slowly trailed up from her right knee, veering inward to the line dividing pudendum and thigh and he rubbed his middle finger up and down the length of her wet, wet slit. 

"You are a good girl," he said against her neck as he gave it a soft bite. "Lovely." He put his middle finger into Charlaine's pussy. Slowly, as slowly as his tongue was licking the shell of her ear. 

"You are also a horny little thing, aren't you, Laine? You want me to do this?" He began a slow finger-fuck, holding her tight against him so she couldn't buck her hips at all. "I'm fucking you with my middle finger, sweetness. The finger for signing 'fuck you' to someone. You know what that means, don't you?" 

All Charlaine could do was hiss out an affirmative while his dirty finger curled within her to rub her G-spot, the palm of his hand skimmed lightly over her clit and he whispered exactly how he was going to fuck her brains out right into her ear with flicks of his tongue darting into that now-sensitive ear for punctuation. 

Just as her pussy clenched hard around his finger and she was about to come all over his hand, Miguel stopped, withdrew his hand from her pussy and turned her around. 

He gave Charlaine a hard, demanding kiss that was tongue and teeth and pheromones as he lifted her, planted her wet pussy right over the hardness in his pants and began bucking his hard, pants-covered penis against her clit, drawing squeals of pleasure from her throat and causing her to wrap her legs around him as tightly as she could. 

When she began to rock on his cock, he gave her ass an admonishing slap -- a slap that made her pussy get even hotter. 

"I call the shots here now. Do stop moving or you will be sorry." His voice, while soft and respectful, held a definite note of steely command. 

Charlaine stopped moving her hips, biting down hard on her lower lip, her eyes begging him for release because she was horny beyond words.

"I am going to put this fat cock into that tight, hot cunt of yours and fuck it silly, Laine, don't you worry," Miguel turned his gravelly whisper into a caress against the softness of her neck as he tweaked a turgid nipple through her tank top. 

"I am going to screw you long and hard and keep you coming until you pass out. But, first, I am going to show you how to use the sybian." He began walking up the stairs with her in his arms and strode into the wardrobe's mirrored interior. 

He ascended the dais and laid her on the pillows, motioning her to stay put as he attached a medium-sized dildo covered in soft rubbery spikes to the machine, lubricated the dildo and set pillows on either side of the device's saddle. 

Miguel then picked Charlaine up again and set her astride the machine, slowly lowering her so that she felt every ridge and nub of the dildo enter her. He stripped her top off and told her to look at herself in the mirrors. 

"You are so beautiful with your hair all messed up and curling wild like that. I am going to be fucking a goddess," Miguel whispered in her ear as he picked up the machine's controller and turned the knob to the lowest speed setting. 

"Now, you just enjoy that, while I summon some more staff for you. I believe you need your trainer. And the chambermaid. Perhaps the chef, just in case you get hungry." 

+++ 

Charlaine barely heard the mirrored door of the wardrobe open and close. Her senses were all focused on the low, insistent thrum of the sybian. 

Miguel had strapped her thighs to the machine, so she couldn't lift herself up off it. Not that she wanted to. She released herself to the vibe caressing her G-spot, tickling her clit and stimulating the ring of nerves that was her asshole. All she could do was play with her nipples, squeeze her breasts and groan, all sense of time gone.

 But, dammit if the machine had not been set to keep me primed but not high enough to set me off, Charlaine thought, wondering what was to come next. Pun intended. 

"My, my, my, she is in good shape, as you said, Miguel. I am going to like training her." The masculine voice floated down to Charlaine from quite a height as she kept her eyes shut tight. "She looks magnificent like that, sitting on the brink of orgasm." Large hands began stroking her flanks and her back, skimming the parts of her that were screaming to be touched, thanks to the sybian.

A low, animal moan filled the walk-in closet to end all walk in closets and Charlaine realized she had made that sound.

Somehow, I don't think the word 'trainer' means the same thing as it does off this island. The thought intruded on Charlaine's still-rising horny tide as she listened to the voice above her, a voice that evoked smoke and honey for its smoothness -- fuck, for the testosterone and pheromone cocktail it contained. 

She opened her eyes to see her personal trainer standing before her, clad in white shorty-short cycling shorts that showed off the beautiful sheen of his dark skin to delicious perfection. Matthew stood before her, his fabric-covered cock level with her eyes and bulging to almost frightening proportions.

"She is delicious," another voice chimed in, feminine, alto and oozing sex. "I would love to help with this demo of the sybian with her, boys. Those breasts look like they would appreciate a good lick and flick." 

That has got to be Jamaica, Charlaine was finding it hard to focus as the sybian revved up to a higher intensity of vibration and she came closer to a stunning peak and began to moan softly. "Oh, fuck," was all she could say as she watched her chambermaid tweak her own nipples through that brief (oh so very brief) French maid costume with one hand and trail fingers lightly over the inside of one caramel thigh with the other.

"Delicious is my territory," spake the naked chef, Pietro, who was striding up the dais monster cock in hand. He took the spot right in front of Charlaine as Matthew moved behind her. "Be a good girl and do a taste test of me, Jamaica." The chef's accent was heavy, sexy, like a fine chianti and Jamaica knelt before Pietro and bent forward slightly, showing off a wickedly curved behind and a bare, wet pussy outlined in slightly darker brown tones by keeping her knees just inches apart as she took Pietro in hand and mouth. 

That wet pussy was so close to Charlaine's mouth she could just flick her tongue out and taste it -- and how she wanted to taste it with slow licks and spear her tongue in that slick heat. The flavor of desire, she decided,  is salted caramel.

Miguel lounged on a beanbag just below the dais, his butler clothes in place and immaculate except for the fly, which was undone. His penis was inside a Fleshlight of custom proportions as he played with the wireless controls of the sybian, intensifying the vibration so Charlaine's back arched and her breasts shot straight into Matthew's large hands.

Hot breath on Charlaine's left ear presaged the light nip on the earlobe and she cried out: "Fuck, fuck, yes!"

"My name is Matthew and I am you personal trainer, Laine," Matthew said and licked a hot, sensuous line from her earlobe to her clavicle. "I am going to train you to come on command. When I'm done with you, you will be able to orgasm when you want, without touching your pussy at all. Do you like that?"

"Gods of war, yes," was Charlaine's breathy answer in a voice soaked with sex and shuddering with anticipation as her pussy pulsed around the vibrating dong trapped in it.




Isle of Lays Ch. 03



The sounds of cocksucking filled the room and made a symphony with the low thrum of the sybian, Charlaine's crescendoing vocalizations and Pietro's growls of satisfaction as Jamaica deep-throated him expertly. 

Then followed the sucking sounds of fingers in wet pussy. Pietro had bent forward and begin fingering Jamaica's hungry cunt and her juices were trailing down each slim, smooth thigh.

Charlaine looked at the mirrors around her, taking in the eroticism of this scene, the mix of skin-tones, the match of genitals and toys to mouths, the way she looked with her black hair tumbling down the paleness of her shoulders, back and breasts while Matthew molded them with his hot, dark-skinned hands as he sucked her earlobes and neck until she could only close her eyes and feel every single screaming nerve ending in her body.

"Lean forward, beautiful one, and eat that pussy in front of you," Matthew whispered as he licked the shell of her ear and sent even more delighted shivers through her. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

"I've never eaten pussy, sir," Charlaine gasped out, stuttering through all the firing of nerve endings that were impeding her thoughts and speech with sharp pinpricks and waves of pleasure.

"Just dive in. Taste her. She's delicious. I know, I've eaten that pussy not three hours ago, it is sweet like honey and juicy as a ripe peach. You'll love it, baby," Matthew replied as he pinched both Charlaine's nipples and made her back arch against the muscles of his hard chest. 

"You'll enjoy it as much as I did. Eat her pussy and you'll also get a reward from Miguel. And," he sucked lightly at that ticklish spot where her neck met her jaw while keeping up the play with her nipples and breasts "you only come when I say you may. Or I will spank you. Hard. With a hairbrush. Then I'll fuck you insensate."

That last sentence came out on a low growl and Charlaine nearly came. She sucked in a deep breath as she held her orgasm back and shook her head a bit to clear it. Charlaine leaned forward to taste Jamaica, running a tentative tongue up and down the center of the chambermaid's wet slit just as a rivulet of thick, sweet honey came trickling down from a honey dripper the chef was holding over Jamaica's ass.

What the fuck, there's a first time for everything. Let's do this like a champ,  Charlaine said to herself as she licked a few more lengths of Jamaica's pulsing slit and plunged her tongue in, her hands coming forward to hold those beautiful butt-cheeks apart to improve her oral access. 

Fuck, it's so hot to see Jamaica's breasts sway under that little dress. She must not be wearing a bra. That thought made Charlaine's mouth water and she began to orally attack Jamaica's cunt and clit with fervor. She does taste delicious, Charlaine decided as she sank her tongue into Jamaica's heat as deep as she would go, making the chambermaid shudder hard and back up against her, grinding all the way.

Jamaica groaned around Pietro's oversized tool and he bucked his hips forward, his ass was tight and Charlaine could see it reflected in the mirror using her peripheral vision. Matthew sent a hand away from her breast and down to press her clitoris more firmly against the stimulating nubs of the sybian and she had to break contact with Jamaica to let out a happy, pleasure-ridden shriek: "Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, I will come if you keep doing that!"

Miguel eased the sybian down a notch and Charlaine's imminent orgasm faded back a bit, leaving her gasping and hornier than ever. She eyed Jamaica's dripping vulva reached a hand out toward it, pushing her own orgasm away with more willpower than she thought she had.

"Do you want to finger-fuck our randy chambermaid, madame?" Miguel's question was teasing underneath its formal tone. "She loves being finger-fucked while her clit is licked and she squirts. Just push your fingers in, curl them inside, pull them out, then wash, rinse repeat." He also turned the sybian settings up higher, making it even harder for Charlaine to keep from coming like a tsunami.

Charlaine complied with Matthew's order (yes, it was an order, no mistake about that) as Matthew began rubbing her over her clitoral hood. She was seeing stars by now, as she felt a very hard and very big cock nestling in the indentation of her back and Matthew's strong thighs touching the backs of her thighs.

Jamaica was screaming now, her hand replacing her mouth on Pietro's cock and she pumped the saliva slick member with a vengeance as she began to pant. 

"Yes, Laine, fuck me like that. That's so absofuckinglutely good." Jamaica said as she began humping back against Charlaine's fingers, rotating her hips and generally making it hard for Charlaine to keep licking her clit, so Charlaine used her pinky and ring fingers to keep the friction constant against the chambermaid's clit as she curled her index and middle fingers so the knuckles rubbed hard against the chambermaid's G-spot.

Matthew raised the sybian setting two notched higher, removed the Fleshlight and took his rampaging hard-on in hand, offering it to Charlaine. "Would you be so kind as to suck my cock, Laine?" He stuck two thick fingers into Jamaica's hungry cunt as he asked this question.

Charlaine opened her mouth, sending our her tongue to lick the glistening glans of Miguel's erection, her eyes on Jamaica's pussy. Jamaica had Pietro back in her mouth and the chef's hands were tangled in the chambermaid's hair as he pumped away wildly.

"I know you want to come, Laine," Matthew of the wondrous tongue whispered in Charlaine's very, very sensitive ear. "When I stick my tongue in your ear and bite your earlobe, you will come -- and Miguel, Pietro and Jamaica will come with you."

That very erotic statement and the wet stab of tongue in Charlaine's ear and the nip on her earlobe lit the fuse of her explosion. The orgasm rushed from her nipples, her clit, her G-spot and sent her flying apart in sharp and almost unbearable shards of pleasure as she watched the tableau before her. 

This was her first true orgy and the pleasure had just begun.

+++

Charlaine's first afternoon at Odalisque Resort ended with her passing out from the most intense and longest string of multiple orgasms she'd ever had while being fucked by Miguel.

She'd been cradled in the leather swing, with Pietro behind her, tweaking her nipples and massaging her breasts, licking at what flesh he could taste through the straps of the contraption while Miguel hammered his cock home repeatedly against her cervix.

A butterfly vibrator was keeping Charlaine's clit busy and the sensations were building well beyond her expectations of her capacity for sensory overload.

Pietro was also having his cock sucked by Jamaica, who was simultaneously fucking Matthew in a very energetic reverse cowgirl Charlaine found so very much a turn-on. 

Matthew was spanking the chambermaid's ass, making Jamaica squeal and scream around Pietro's considerable manhood in time to the filthy stream of Italian expletives the chef was whispering heatedly into Charlaine's ear and the Tagalog obscenities Miguel was letting loose with amazing gusto.

Hot damn, this is a fucking fantasy come true. How do you rate this? Charlaine's body was taut as a bowstring on a daikyu poised to fire and the arrow of her orgasm tsunami flew far and wide, splattering Miguel, Jamaica and Matthew with her squirts.

Screaming orgasms, indeed. The Beatle's hit 'Come Together' would never sound the same to Charlaine ever again. In an extremely good way.



Isle of Lays Ch. 04



The stars shimmered against their black backdrop of sky as Charlaine awoke from her post-orgy nap. A cup of hot ginger tea was at her bedside and Jamaica smiled down softly at her from the overstuffed armchair by the bedside table. Charlaine's personal staff had given her the pampering her sore body craved after their very intimate introductions to her.

She'd been carried into the huge whirlpool by Matthew after Jamaica had filled the moster tub, measured in generous heaps of lilac oil and honeysuckle bath salts and turned on the jets. 

Miguel had scrubbed her back while Pietro took care of her legs and feet – spending endless minutes tending to the soft interstices of flesh between Charlaine's toes and making sensuous erogenous zones of them.

Jamaica shampooed her hair with deft, soothing fingers that had Charlaine's scalp tingling with life. Once Charlaine had had her fill of the tub, her personal villa staff all took turns drying various parts of her slowly and rubbing her skin to silkiness with lotion. After that, well, she went up to bed drifted off to sleep in a haze of deeply-pleasured and pampered bliss.

+++

"Ah, you are awake," Jamaica said with a smile dancing on her luscious plum lips as she unfurled her body from the chair with the grace of a world-class dancer. "Would you care for something to eat? Pietro is in the living room awaiting your pleasure."

"You are still here," Charlaine looked up at Jamaica, focusing her eyes as she shed the lassitude of sleep and stretched like a cat in the sun. "You don't leave until I let you go, then?"

"Those are the rules of the resort, Ms. Laine," Jamaica said, a deep, sexy dimple creasing her left cheek. "We are yours until you say we may leave the villa and we return when you call for us. There are rooms for us here, too, so staying with you is no problem at all." 

"Oh," Charlaine said, sheepish that she hadn't thought about that. "Well, since you ask, I wanted to explore the island," she added, wincing at the slight soreness of her throat. She reached for the ginger tea and took a long swallow before making her next query. "You've seen what I like so far, Jamaica, what do you recommend?"

"Since you seem to like menages a trois and more, perhaps you want to visit the Wet Pussycat Club? It offers a bar list unrivaled in the world and the bar chow sets a bar all its own. You have suitable clothing for that place in your wardrobe and we can kit you out with any accessories you may desire," Jamaica replied as she walked over to the wardrobe room where, just hours before, Charlaine and her villa staff had begun getting to know one another very intimately.

Rising from the bed and feeling too lazy to wrap a sheet about her, Charlaine followed Jamaica to the wardrobe, her nipples going pert as she looked over at the dais where her first taste of the sybian took place. It was neat once more, with nary a trace of sweat or bodily juices -- and it beckoned like a reclining lover getting his second wind.  Not now, lover. I'm for going out and exlporing now, Charlaine gave the sybian a slight shake of her head and smiled as she took a seat at the edge of the dais.

Jamaica laid out a set of clubbing clothes on the settee beside the third closet, pulling out soft, flat-soled suede boots in a shade of golden brown that matched Charlaine's eyes and echoed the burnished bronze highlights of her hair. A long skirt in cordovan velvet lay nearest Charlaine and it had a slit all the way up to her imagination. Beside it lay a sheer, long-sleeved, button-front blouse of creamy belgian lace that was tatted to cover her breasts with blooming roses and wrap around her arms and torso in vines and leaves. The neckline was pretty high, but the rest of the blouse showed her flawless skin off to perfection. 

"These would suit you very well, if the outfit is to your taste," Jamaica said over her shoulder as she opened yet another closet. "Please try them on."

Charlaine donned the clothes, feeling the softness of the fabric against her skin. These clothes make me feel voloptuous and beautiful, she thought as she sat on the settee and zipped her slim legs into boots. It would be a shame to have to lose them if I get lucky in the club. 

She stood and did a slow quarter turn for Jamaica, who had returned with a basket full of cosmetics, brushes and hair styling products and another full of accessories.

Jamaica ran an assessing eye over Charlaine, her dark eyes flickering flames of appreciation and just the slightest bit of lust as they passed her breasts and the full cuve of her hips. "Perfect. You look delicious, like a chocolate gateau with the dreamiest vanilla icing. Now, for your hair. Up, I believe, and a velvet choker with a cameo and diamond ear studs."

Charlaine got her hair brushed out until her scalp felt more alive than it ever had and then the girl fun with hairstyle and makeup commenced. When Jamaica was done, Charlaine saw a sexy, smoky-eyed version of herself in the vanity mirror. Her lashes were lush and curling beautifully around her eyes and her lips were wanton and wet. Her hair was done up in a French twist and adorned with glittering butterfly clips.

"There you go, ma petit, just one last thing and you are ready for the club." Jamaica clapped her hands happily and took an old-fashioned Lalique perfume bottle, the kind with a glass dip-stick, out of the cosmetics basket. 

"Joy by Jean Patou," Jamaica said as she anointed Charlaine's pulse points with the scent. "Let me put some behind your ears, in the valley of your breasts and behind your knees. You will smell so heavenly at the club and so many people will want to pleasure you with this scent leading them to you."

The eau de parfum and dipstick glided along these sensitive points, making Charlaine shiver pleasantly, her nipples snapping to attention as Jamaica opened the buttons of her blouse to access the cleft of her bosom. She raised her skirts to provide access to the backs of her knees and Jamaica planted a soft kiss on her pussy, flicking her clitoris lightly with a wet, hot tongue as she scented Charlaine's lower extremities.

"Oh, you are teasing me, darling Jamaica," she said, her words coming out breathy as Marilyn Monroe had sounded in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. "Mmmmmm... that makes me so hot."

"Tsk, we can't have you arrive there smelling just of perfume as good as this stuff is, mon cher," Jamaica purred as she pressed soft, light kisses on the insides of Charlaine's thighs and stroked the backs of her calves. 

"We want them know how wonderful your arousal smells, how much they will enjoy eating this beautiful pussy." Jamaica gave Charlaine's cunt another long lick and a lingering, tongue-involved kiss and stood up to make a few more adjustments to Charlaine's outfit and hair as Charlaine shuddered for composure.

Finally, Jamaica snapped a wide, brown belt made of doeskin with a discreet pouch to Charlaine's slim waist, slipped several condoms, lube and her villa's key card into it. "There, my sweet, you are all set to enjoy the club. Matt is waiting downstairs to walk you there." That last whisper right against Charlaine's ear and neck made her shake with lust. 

Talk about getting in the mood, Charlaine thought. My engines are revved and I haven't even gotten out the door. 

Taking a deep breath, Charlaine summoned all her will to keep her feet under her and to walk down the steps of the loft to the villa's front door, where Matthew was waiting to walk her to the Wet Pussycat Club. The next item on her to-review list was so on and she was turned on all over again as he lightly, deftly ran skilled fingers over her hip, up to her waist and the bottom curve of her left breast as he took her on her path to a new experience.

+++

The large white and gold hexagon that was the Wet Pussycat Club was throbbing with music from a live DJ and a huge wraparound bar dominated the rear wall of the two-storey club. The dance floor in front of the bar was sunken low and bordered with wide, elevated platforms and flanked by two metal poles and two suspended cages where nubile, scantily-clad women and men undulated beneath the changing colors of the laser lights.

On either side of the bar stood curving metal staircases that led to a wraparound mezzanine with booths that offered privacy in black and red leather. Glow-sticks sat in bamboo containers on the tables and at the bar where three gorgeous bartenders (one dusky Filipina and twin tatooed Latinos) held sway.

Strategically placed mirrors gave Charlaine tantalizing glimpes of bar denizens doing more than just dancing. Some were making out in pairs or more against pillars with brief ledges placed high enough to support some stand-up sex and overhead bars from which velvet cuffs with velcro fasteners dangled suggestively. She could hear moans and the odd pleasured screams and giggles from the booths above, as well as the sounds of bodies bucking against the soft leather seats. 

The Wet Pussycat smelled of sweetly sweaty sexual congress (oral, anal, vaginal, mechanical and manual – all of it refershingly uninhibited and earthy), crisp salt air and night-blooming jasmine, a potent mix that immediately had her cunt weeping for joy in this deluxe club of delight where nothing was stinted upon.

The bar list overhead had a mind-boggling selection of beers, wines, whiskies and other quality liquors – no cheap stuff here. There was also a very suggestive list of cocktails that included such erotic names as "Pink Pussy," "Hard Nipple," "Paddled Tail," "Begging on Your Knees," "Spanish Fly," "Screw Me Blind," "Blue Balls," and a list of shooters called "Hot Cock Rising," "Hard and Fast," "69," "Cumshot," "Whips 'n Chains," and "Howlin' at the Moon," among others.

Drawing in a deep breath, Charlaine skirted the dance floor and made her way to the bar. She got up on a barstool and reached for the bowl of nuts and dried fruit in front of her as one of the twin barkeeps approached to take her order. My God, I'd love to suck on him, Charlaine thought with a mental groan as her mind's eye stripped the black t-shirt and leather pants from him. Those dragons on his arms look like they're moving and his moustache and goatee make him look dangerous. Oh, I am probably making my bad boy sigh now.  

Her very audible "I want a bad boy" sigh alerted the object of her intent gaze to her presence. His hips (and the rest of him) swiveled in her direction and she saw that his leather pants were painted-on tight, covered everything and hid nothing. But, then again, I doubt if there is anything, barring a tent, that would hide quadriceps that big or his even more impressive man-meat. a smile played softly about Charlaine's lips as she watched the bartender's approach.

"Good evening, darling, what's your poison?" Spake the sexy barkeep in a growl that reminded Charlaine of her favorite Metallica songs.

"I'll have a Hard Nipple, please, with a Beast With Two Backs and a side of Boobs with Pearl Necklace." Charlaine just had to grin at the names for the bar food on the menu – her order was, in reality, a pair of open-faced grilled cheese and roast beef sandwiches with a split baked potato topped with sour cream on the side. The bartender took her order down and set it on the reel.

"Would you like some cunnilingus while you wait?" The bartender said with a mischievous grin that bared even white teeth. "Or would you rather hit the ledges or dance floor? I'll save your seat for as long as you like." He flicked his wet, red tongue against his lower lip and Charlaine just couldn't resist him.

"Cunnilingus would be just what the doctor ordered," she replied sassily, through lowered lashes and with a blush on her cheeks. Public sex. I'd never think of doing this off the Isle of Lays, but, heck, this is part of the job I gotta do. Did I say I love my job? I love my fucking job.

The bartender signaled to his brother and came out and around to stand behind Charlaine. "This is my brother, Inigo, and my name is Carlos. Would you like two of us instead of one? He can tend to your back. I can take care of your front." Inigo gave Charlaine a slow wink and raised both his hands in a friendly but suggestive way. 

She spun the barstool around to face Carlos and raised her face to his. "I want you on your knees and between my legs, please, Carlos," she spoke demurely, her tongue coming out boldly to lick the side of his neck, gratified to hear him hiss softly. Ha, how's that for an opening salvo?

Without any further words, Carlos knelt in front of Charlaine, flicked her skirt up and to the side and he parted her legs. Carlos pulled her ass forward to the edge of the bar stool, hitched her heels to the footrests on either side of the chair and gazed at the glistening and bare pussy before him. "So flushed and pretty, I like pretty pussies." He blew softly on her mound just as his twin nuzzled Charlaine's nape and nipped her right earlobe.

"Fragrant and beautiful," Inigo intoned with delight. "I like you. Do you like watching other people take their pleasure? Look in front of us, on the ledge." His words gave way to a hot trail of love-bites and kisses up and down the most sensitive points of Charlaine's neck as his hands came around to trace light circles over her breasts with sure fingers.

Carlos was making light little licks around the creases at the juncture of Charlaine's thighs and his thumbs were rubbing her vulva gently as she lit eyes on the tableau before them on the ledge.

A stacked young redhead in a schoolgirl's uniform with a skirt that barely covered her ass was bent over, her hands on the pole to the side of the ledge. Her tartan skirt was thrown over her back as a tall, shirtless man with dark hair and an athletic body encased in skin-hugging denim ground an impressive crotch buldge against her ass, his hands firmly spanning her tiny waist.

"She's quite the exhibitionist, our little miss," Inigo whispered in Charlaine's ear as she threw her head back because he was now plucking her hard nipples through her lace top. "She likes providing a show of anal play and cocksucking while she is up there. Such a porn star. She also likes watching women get eaten while she does her thing up there. You're going to make her scream just as much as her partner will."

Oh, fuck that's so screw-my-brains-out hot, Charlaine groaned to herself as Carlos' tongue connected with her clit and began whipping it into a foaming frenzy. Her hands went up to Inigo's shoulders, to which she held on for dear life as she began to shake in the foreshadowing of orgasm. She watched the dark-haired man go down on his knees, part the redhead's ass cheeks and press his face against her winking pink rosebud as she screamed and bucked. 

The redhead arched her back to thrust her ass up as her man rimmed her anus and began slowly tongue-fucking it. Some dancers near the ledge reached up to tweak redhead's pert little tits through her shirt and she began to moan and groan as her body shook in pleasure, her eyes focused on Charlaine spread out wantonly and being savored by Carlos like the feast she was. 

The sensation of being watched as she was pleasured by these Latino twins heightened Charlaine's own pleasure, raising her to a peak she'd never even imagined. 

Inigo slowly unbuttoned her lace blouse, teasingly drawing the fabric across her nipples as he bared her luscious bosoms to the eyes of their audience. He pinched and rolled both of Charlaine's nipples as he nipped her ears. "I bet you'd love to have both your nipples sucked at the same time, wouldn't you?" Just as he asked that question, two patrons of the bar leaned over from either side and began licking her breasts. 

Inigo poured a slow stream of Bailey's Irish Cream down her cleavage and the creamy stream made its way to her pussy, where Carlos lapped it up and down her slit before he began sucking her clit in earnest. Inigo reached forward to grasp Charlaine's ass in both hands, raising and squeezing in unison with his brother's heated sucking and tongue-fucking of her slit. 

The redhead was now on her knees, getting reamed in front of Charlaine and friends, with the dark-haired guy's thick cock stretching her asshole mercilessly. Another man lay under the redhead, licking both her pussy and her ass-fucker's cock and balls while he strummed little redhead's clit until she squrited onto the ledge's glossy floor. 

The redhead was screaming "watch me come, I'm coming so fucking hard. I'm being fucked in the ass and I love it. Love it!" She was lost in a string of escalating orgasms, begging for mercy while her partners gave her no letup. They just kept at her as she screamed louder, bucked wildly and someone came up on the ledge to disengage redhead's hands from to pole to bring her head to her prone partner's cock before he got off the ledge to manhandle himself. 

As much as Charlaine wanted to close her eyes and lose herself in her own ecstasy, she held them open to watch the denoument of the redhead's display, channeling all the redhead's wild wails and undulations boost her own multiple Os.

The tableau of fuckers and suckers came in one orgiastic spasm before Charlaine's eyes and she was on her fifth orgasm when they finally rolled off the stage and wandered off to some booths to revcover – or to resume other sybaritic pleasures they'd abandoned to put on their extemporaneous sex show.

"Holy motherfucker," Charlaine gasped as she regained her breath. The men giving her all sorts of oral pleasure were tapering off with light licks and nips to her inner thighs, her neck and collar bones, her breasts and belly. Oh, and her sandwich had arrived along with her drink.

She took a long pull on her fruity cocktail and, as the alcohol hit her bloodstream, she felt a fresh flood of cream begin a slow, yearning egress from her slit. Charlaine turned to the Filipina barkeep, who smiled slyly at her wide-eyed surprise as her twin partners in crime chuckled.

"The Hard Nipple really gets your nipples hard. It has a special ingredient that makes your pussy wet, too. honey, you're just getting warmed up with your first Wet Pussycat cocktail," the lady barkeep said. "Drink up and enjoy your sandwich. You'll need the energy."



Isle of Lays Ch. 05



The Wet Pussycat's main dance floor was filled with dancers giving each other full-body caresses in pairs and trios, with a few gropes and wet French kisses exchanged between groups as Charlaine dived in, having enjoyed her excellent sandwich and cocktail and revived from her string of tongue-induced big Os.

She began shimmying and shaking loose as another girl, a ponytailed platinum blonde half a head taller than her and willowy to boot, gave her a sultry look and began pressing her front to Charlaine's back.  She's soft,  was Charlaine's first impression as the blonde woman began tracing small circular patterns up her arms from wrist to shoulder. 

"Hi, I'm Jade," the blonde said by way of introduction. Her svelte body was encased in a tiny black halter dress with a back that dipped so low it rode on her pert butt. "You smell divine. I couldn't resist your scent or your show at the bar."

"Call me Laine," Charlaine said with a smile as she turned her head to Jade. "You smell good, too." She ground her ass back into Jade's hips. "I just got here."

"My friends and I got a booth in one of the billiards rooms, would you care to join us for a game or two?" Jade's hands were skimming Charlaine's belly invitingly. "We're looking for a delicious new addition."

+++

Charlaine nodded and smiled and Jade took her hand to lead her off the dance floor to the room in question. In the center were three baize-topped billard tables set for eight-ball. Miss Redhead, a handsome, dusky Arab in a red t-shirt and cargo shorts with a crop of glossy black curls falling over his forehead, a man of Japanese ancestry with wiry, well-cut muscles under a tight white tee and khakis and another man, blond and built like Jean Claude Van Damme stood clustered at the end of the billiard table to Charlaine's right.

"The rules are simple," the Asian man said, laying several vibrators encased in leather harnesses and vibrating cock-rings on the table before him. "We all lock and load these toys, turn them on, and play pool. Our opponents get to control the remotes for our stuff and we get control of theirs. Come all you want, but don't stop playing."

"Let's mix it up some more," the blond man added, his face lit up with excitement. "Let's have our opponents gear us up with these, with all the unnecessary touching, just to heat things up."

"Done," the Arab said. "That sounds quite satisfactory to me."

"Asher, Ken, Tanner, Lily, I'd like you to meet Laine," Jade said, her naturally husky voice calling her friends' attention to her and to Charlaine, "she's here to play with us."

The four smiled at Charlaine and welcomed her to the group and they reiterated the rules of the game for her benefit. Waitstaff dressed in only bow ties, disembodied white cuffs and strips of black silk that merely decorated their bodies brought in platters heaped with finger-food and buckets of Belgian beer came and went, depositing the victuals and beverages on low tables along the padded and soundproofed walls of the room.

"We play to win," Asher, the Arab, said in perfectly British English. "The losers have to make the winners come at least twice without coming themselves and they will be fucked in the ass. On video. For the whole resort to watch. The video will be streamed live over this laptop and they will watch themselves over that flatscreen TV over there," he added, pointing to a television that practically took up one whole wall of the room.

They partnered off, Jade with Asher, Lily with Ken and Charlaine with Tanner. The men opened their flies and the women applied lubricant to their cocks and slid the cock rings down to the base of their dangly bits, rubbing and squeezing gently along the way. Once the cock-rings were nested and adjusted to the desired tightness, the women bent over tables so the men could insert the vibrators in them. 

"Let the games begin, ooooh!" Charlaine said as she felt the vibrator (a 10-inch long monster of a purple Rabbit) come to life under Tanner's fingers. 

Charlaine got even with a smooth twirl of the dial on the remote for the cock ring around Tanner's man-root and enjoyed seeing him blush and break out into a light sweat as his body went taut as a bowstring and his heavy, thick dick did a little vibrating jig. She took mercy upon the surfer-built blond and ratcheted the vibrations down to a lower pulse when he released a pleading moan and lifted his chin to the ceiling.

Tanner leaned over and broke with a bang as Charlaine revved the cock ring straight back up to mid-level intensity, his back arching as the cue ball went wild, hit the edge by the side pocket and ricocheted back to the triangle of balls on the table. None of the balls sank into the pockets, but they did line up nicely with the cue.

"Ah, my shot, I see, I choose stripes" Charlaine smiled naughtily at Tanner. "I think I'll go slow on this one." She swayed her hips a bit more than was necessary, wagging her round, tight butt at Tanner as she approached the table, set up her shot and drew the cue stick back. All the while, her pussy clenched around the Rabbit and her clit pulsed against its prong. I can take this shot, Charlaine told herself. Hands and mind over soaked pussy and hard clit is all it takes.

Tanner was speechless, enjoying the sexy look of Charlaine's ass hugged by her long velvet skirt. He was turned on immensely by the way he could see the outline of the Rabbit's base against the soft fabric as she bent over to take her shot, one leg stretched out back and laid bare against the skirt's hip-high slit. I wonder how she'd like a bit of payback? 

The impish thought had him pushing on the third highest setting on the remote he held as she moved her right arm forward to make her shot.

A loud moan broke from Charlaine's lips and drew Asher's eyes to her as she just barely made her first shot and began writhing as she landed belly-over-boobs on the table, her fingers gone white against the cue stick. Lucky for her, she didn't hit any of the brightly colored balls.

Asher turned his eyes back at Jade, whose ass was in the air, her tiny minidress ridden up just high enough for him to see her pussy pulsing around the vibrator torturing it. Just as Jade began to truly wail, Asher turned the vibrator off and Jade took a deep, shuddering breath. She'd yet to sink a single ball and her frustration over the denied climax obviously flummoxed her.

Charlaine regained her composure enough to look Tanner in the eye and smile. "Nice try, Ace. I'm still going to take the next shot and the next after that. Then we'll see how you like payback." She winked and moved on her next shot and sank that ball in the corner pocket and another in the side pocket along the way as she came.

By this time, Lily had dropped her cue stick and was just laying on her back on the baize, her hips jerking to orrgasm as Ken's fingers flew over the remote control in hi hand. "I love watching you come, Lily. Fuck the game. I'll be fucking your ass and you'll be sucking me off for all the island to see anyway, so come for me baby." Lily was plucking at her nipples and groaning on the table, bracing her feet so her legs splayed wide as her ass lifted and fell in a rhythm as old as time.

+++

In the end, the winners were Charlaine, Ken and Asher. 

The winning trifecta had stripped Jade, Lily and Tanner and positioned them on their knees atop the center table facing the huge TV. That done, Asher placed the laptop and two more HD webcams for maximum coverage, Ken gave a moaning Lily a thorough two finger-fucking the ass while Charlaine laid out some necessaries: Condoms, lubricant and a snap-on strap on, as well as butt plugs for the anally uninitiated (read: Tanner). 

The losers' devices were still in/on them and vibrating at speeds that ensured that they would not be thinking of much beyond their genitalia, though these vibrations did not permit orgasm. Not just yet.

"Hi Tanner," Charlaine whispered as she snapped the strap-on dildo over the harness holding the Rabbit that was vibrating at a nice, low rip in her dripping cunt. She deliberately let him hear the snaps and was gratified to see him wince. She knelt behind him and rubbed her fingertips over his nipples, pinching lightly and smiling as he groaned. 

"I am lubing my new cock now, Tanner, honey. Just for you, for fucking you between those sweet buns," she licked his neck and bit his earlobe as she sent a hand down to finger teasing whorls around the slit of his red, red glans, from which precum was now dripping. 

Charlaine poured some strawberry-flavored lube over the crack of Tanner's ass and began rubbing it with her forefinger down to his anus, poking just the tip in and making him shiver uncontrollably as he bit out a very aroused and gravelly "motherfucker, ah, fuck me."

He likes this, his cock is pulsing and bobbing up and down. His pucker is winking against my finger and the veins in his cock are standing out even more, Charlaine observed with a smirk. This is making me so very wet, indeed. I am going to like taking Tanner's ass cherry. She stroked her new cock (and Tanner's natural one) with glee.

Lily was already speared on Ken, his right leg propped up beside hers as he entered her rear slowly, her back pressed against his front. He had one hand on her left hip while the other was at her neck, turning her face to him. Her right hand was pushing the vibrator in and out of her pussy and her left was pinching a needy nipple.

"Mmmmmmm, oh-oh-oh-oh, fuck, your cock is vibrating in my ass, Ken," Lily, it seemed, was in seventh heaven getting both holes stuffed with vibrating cocks, the lucky girl.

On Charlaine's right, Jade was in a state of frantic, incoherent bliss on all fours, with Asher's thick length spearing her as he fucked her hard, his arms crossed over her hips. 

"I know you like being ridden hard, Jade, my dear, so I'm going to ride your tight little ass until it is quite sore. Tell our audience where I am fucking you, darling. Tell them where my cock is pumping you," Asher demanded, the veins in his neck standing out from the tension that was tightening his whole body, especially his hard, muscled ass and legs.

"I-i-in my ass, you've got that monster prick of yours up my ass and your're fucking it hard," Jade said in a stuttering series of sound-bursts, her firm little tits getting swayed violently forward and back from the force with which Asher was attacking her hindquarters. "You are making my tits swing back and forth because you are fucking my ass so -- ah, sweet Jesus -- so brutally hard and I love it!"

Asher brought one hand up between Jade's legs, unsnapped the vibrator's harness and began manipulating the Rabbit in her cunt as he thrust harder and faster into her ass and Jade began to shake and scream, jolting upright so she could pump herself on Asher's prong as she rolled and pinched her nipples. Asher was licking and biting her neck and earlobes as he pumped both vibrator and cock harder into her.

"Look at those girls loving the butt sex they're getting, Tanner," Charlaine said, the lust in her voice blossoming out in a sexily dominant tone. "I'm going to take your ass like that, but I want my lips and tongue there, first. I've always wondered what a gorgeous asshole like yours would taste like. Please bend over and hold your cheeks apart for me so I can tongue-fuck that delicious little cherry I am about to pop."

Groaning with anticipation, Tanner did as she bid and Charlaine let her fingers glide slowly from Tanner's beautifully muscled shoulders, down the indentation of his spine and finally down to his asshole, teasing the little brown pucker with tiny stabs and quick withdrawals that left him gasping. Well, okay, so it helped that she was also giving his lubed and vibrating cock some very slow, very tight strokes.

Charlaine flicked her tongue around the rim of his pulsing anus and he let out another groan as his thighs twitched and his cock swayed in a dance that begged for release. She pushed her tongue in slowly through the muscled ring of his sphincter and felt the trembling that began to take Tanner's body in its grip and she reached around to gently tug his tightening balls down.

"No coming yet, baby," Charlaine said in a stern response to Tanner's frustrated moan. "I want to see if you can have multiple orgasms and I read somewhere that denying you release at first is a good way to make that happen. I am going to fuck that ass of yours while I stroke you and hit max with the cock-ring."

"Oh, fuck, Laine, fuck you're making me so crazy," Tanner's words were breathless, begging and so hot that Laine nearly came herself before she got a grip.

"Exactly what I aim to do, lover, so hold those cheeks and let me prepare your sweet little hole for invasion." Charlaine resumed her oral attentions for a few minutes before lubing up her middle finger and replenishing the lube on his anus. 

She sank her finger in to the first knuckle as Tanner took a deep breath, his brow furrowed in pain and pleasure. She pressed on as he began to chant her name and she withdrew her finger only to push it back in slowly, inexorably to the hilt and she withdrew again. 

Pushing her index and middle fingers into Tanner, Charlaine found his prostate and began to gently rub it as she twisted and flexed her fingers apart gently, stretching him for the first butt plug, which she lubed and eased in slowly, following Tanner's breathing and shoving home on the exhale.

"Oh, God, that feels so absofuckinglutely hot in there. So godamn good," Tanner was sweating hard now, his clean male scent and the soap he'd used tickling Charlaine's nose as she jacked his cock to distract him from the pain. "Laine, you're making me so crazy. Oh, screw me, woman, screw me."

"Shhh, hush, Tanner," Charlaine whispered into his ear as she flicked the shell of it with a hot, wet tongue. "Just stay still and get used to the plug, darling. Tell me when you're comfy with it." She pumped the plug in and out gently until Tanner stopped shaking and nodded to her.

Ken was driving Lily wild by keeping her on a knife edge, denying her orgasms several times as he changed positions with her. The final pose of this horny pair was one where Ken braced himself firmly against the baize with a wide stance as she reached back, gripped his neck and he drew upright, her legs held wide in his big hands.

Lily's top had fallen in a pool at her waist, meeting her miniskirt, which had ridden up and she was splayed open, the vibrator in her pussy dripping with her juices and Ken's cock pistoning in and out of her ass while she begged him for release. Lily's scream as Ken granted her pleas bounced off the walls of the room and she came in a fit of shudders, shakes and undulations that looked gorgeous on the TV.

The next plug went into Tanner, bigger this time, and it came with a built-in vibrator, so Charlaine decided to turn it on as well, on the lowest setting. Thank goodness for those hot g-flicks I watched before leaving Stockholm. At least I have some idea what to do to make assfucking a guy good for him. I want his cherry and I want him to come hard while I take it.

Tanner snapped backward like a bowstring that had just released an arrow and Charlain again tugged on his balls as he howled at the sudden stimulation of his prostate. "Please, please, Laine. Please fuck me and make me come, I can't take any more."

"Okay, Tanner, okay," Charlaine said, gently caressing his balls before pushing his shoulders forward. "Bend over again and rest your shoulders and head on the tabletop and hold your ass cheeks apart so I can see where I'm putting my stiff cock."

After pulling out the vibrating plug and applying more lube to the strap on's prong and Tanner's asshole, Charlaine slowly breached his ass, inch by slow inch. Tanner was gasping and uttering incoherent words as tears flowed down his Greek god face, but he began pushing back against her, too.

Charlaine withdrew the strap-on slowly and began a slow pump in and out of Tanner's now-stretch arsehole. She raise her right knee up beside his hip and covered his slick back with her body, laying kisses on his skin. Her arousal was heightened by the impassioned wails coming from the women on either side of her who were getting their brains fucked out via their asses and the hisses and groans emitted by their men.

"I want you to raise your body up vertically, Tanner, so I can take hold of that delicious prick and wank it as I fuck this sweet ass. I want the people watching us over the CCTV system to see how much you like the way I am screwing your ass, how good being jacked off while getting butt-fucked is."

Tanner did as he was bid and Charlaine raised the vibe on his cock ring and her Rabbit before she took him in hand and onanized him as she sodomized him with increasing vigor, occasionally giving his nipples a quick pinch and lingering caresses. 

She nipped his earlobes and licked his neck and whispered the filthiest things she could into his ears as she watched their tableaux of six on the TV in front of her. "This is so debauched, Tanner, open your eyes and look at how hot you look getting backdoor action from a brunette with a strap-on. You're pouring sweat, big boy, ad you'll be coming like a geyser when we get to the climax. I'm close to mine so I'm going to truly give it to you."

Charlaine's hips bucked harder, more violently and faster as her orgasms hit and kept hitting her clit, her g-spot, that special area of her brain where orgasms explode the world into shards of rainbow and sensation. Her hand worked harder as she asked Tanner to count his orgasms with her and he did.

They both stopped at seven and collapsed on the soaked baize of the billiard table. Passed out cold from the pleasure overload - just like Asher, Jade, Ken and Lily had just minutes before.



Isle of Lays Ch. 06



A/N

I know it took a while to get this chapter out and you have my apologies, but life does happen and a writer does get busy with other things. 

Do enjoy this late installment to my story and I do hope you find it to your liking.

*

Soft dawnlight shimmered just past the drawn drapes covering the wall of windows to one side of Charlaine's bed and the scent of bacon and French Toast wafted to her nostrils just as she felt the bed sink under the weight of a hefty, warm and very naked man behind her.

She'd gotten home from the Wet Pussycat club exhausted and soaked in sweat and come and been greeted at the door by a smiling and bare-assed Jamaica, who licked her pussy and ass clean right in the foyer before using warm, wet (and velvety plush) hand-towels to finish the job. 

The things that woman could do with wet, warm hand-towels is mind-blowing, Charlaine recalled with a sleepy smile that morphed into a pink "oh" of pleasure as someone slid under the duvet to continue where Jamaica had left off. 

Her vocalizations rose in pitch as a tongue flicked a hot, wet curve along her right ear and strong teeth nipped her earlobe, teasing her fully awake and causing her to open her eyes in delighted surprise.

My goodness, I will have a sore pussy when I'm done here, was Charlaine's next thought. But who the fuck cares? That kind of sore is good in my book.

Charlaine began bucking against the long tongue invading her pussy, drawing out her womanly wetness and flicking the hard little button of her clit with a divine little syncopation. 

A pair of large hands held her thighs apart while a hard cock nestled in the crease between the globes of her ass and gently rubbed warm pre-come on the skin of her back. 

"Good morning, Laine." Matthew's husky voice triggered a wave of lust that flowed inexorably to body parts south of her neck as he speared her ear with his tongue. "It is almost time for breakfast, though I think Miguel is getting a jump start on that."

Matthew took hold of her right leg and slid it back, hooking it over his hip just as Miguel brought his thick, long fingers into play by plunging the digits into her pussy and twisting them so Charlaine could not contain her groans. 

Charlaine's hands went straight to Miguel's thick head of hair and she hung on for dear life, her hips bucking her clit into his hot, sucking mouth.

"No coming yet, sweetness," Matthew's gravelly voice held her off the precipice she was just about ready to take off from. His hands wrapped around her breasts, squeezing lightly, his fingers drawing lightning spirals to the nipples that ached for a good roll-and-pinch. "You will come with two cocks in you. Mine and Miguel's."

She jolted forward as she became aware of something big and tapered vibrating deep in her ass. A butt plug? But how...

"You were so deeply asleep it wasn't hard to insert the butt plug into your sweet little asshole," Matthew said into Charlaine's ear. "I even got to lick that pretty pink hole and hear you groaning into your pillow, Laine. That was so sexy. You had me hard in record time." 

Matthew pinched her nipples hard, stopping another orgasm, one his words had been pushing to her clit and G-spot so insistently Charlaine felt like she was about to lose her mind most pleasurably.

Someone, likely Miguel, as Matthew's hands were still pulling at her breasts, began fucking her ass with the vibrating butt plug, establishing a rhythm in counterpoint to the tongue licking the length of her slit up and down. Something vibrated against her clitoris, too, one of the butterfly vibes that she'd last seen in the bathroom cabinet above the commode. 

"Please, please, I need this. I need to come," Charlaine's voice was husky with sleep and wracked by the torture of orgasm denial. "Please, fuck me." 

"Not yet, baby," Matthew said, making light bites along her neck and shoulder. "Hold it in a bit more and, I promise, you will be very, very well rewarded."

With a hard suck on her clit that left Charlaine shuddering and clutching the pillow under her head, Miguel slipped up her front and greeted her good morning with a carnal kiss that mimicked exactly what he'd been doing to her pussy just seconds ago. 

Miguel's lips were slick and shiny with her arousal and she tasted herself as he plundered her soft lips and licked past them, and her open teeth to meet the hunger of her greedy tongue.

Matthew bit the soft spot between her shoulder and neck lightly again and chuckled as he slowly pulled the vibe out of her ass and reached for a squirt bottle of lubricant from the space between Charlaine's head and the padded headboard. 

As the butt plug was withdrawn, Miguel's cock began its slow entry of her pussy and Charlaine released a groan into her butler's sensuous slew of kisses. She felt the squirt tube of lube enter the ring of her asshole and a quick, cool gush coating her rear tunnel made her gasp softly in anticipation of what was to come.

A large, slippery cockhead knocked at her rear entry and Charlaine bucked her hips back to welcome it as Jamaica threw the drapes of the loft wide open to allow the morning sun into the room.

"I see you started without me, boys, tsk," Charlaine heard Jamaica cluck in censure as she pulled the duvet slowly off the three people writhing naked on the massive red bed. "I'm going to have to play catch up now," the chambermaid said as she fingered herself, squeezing her engorged clitoris and pulling at it.

Charlaine swallowed Miguel's groan and groaned, too, when she felt Jamaica's tongue on that sensitive strip of flesh between her pussy and asshole. 

The woman is licking all three of us together. The thought hit Charlaine hard, making her even wetter. 

Charlaine heard Matthew chew out a very strained "fuck, woman, that's so hot. Yes, rim my asshole with your tongue. Just like that, baby. Oh, fuck me." The thick arousal in Matthew's voice made her gush even more.

The heavy treads of another set of feet clibing the loft's carpeted stairs signaled the arrival of Pietro, naked chef, just as Jamaica began slowly fucking both Miguel and Matthew with saliva-slick fingers, making both men shove their cocks into Charlaine hard and deep.

"That's fucking nasty, Jam, licking and finger-fucking my ass like that," Miguel said, tearing his mouth away from Charlaine's to hiss and curse in his native tongue. "Hindot, putangina, sige pa!" 

That said, Miguel pulled Charlaine's right leg from Matthew's hip, hooked it over his left arm. He began pounding his massive cock into her weeping, lust-swollen pussy like a jackhammer breaking cement.

"Good, motherfucking God," was Matthew's lusty bellow as he began hammering his cock into Charlaine's ass with a fervor that matched Miguel's. "Jam's got two fingers in my ass and on my prostate and she's fucking me so hard! Yeah, baby, keep finger-fucking my ass you nasty bitch!"

Charlaine could see the barest reflection of them in the bed from the window she was facing. The scene, superimposed against a serenely blue sea lapping at fine, pink sand and swaying coconut palms, would warm her on the coldest nights for a very long time to come.

Jamaica was naked and bent over the bed, her heart-shaped ass sticking up in the air just inviting an oral, penile or manual invasion. The chambermaid's head was lowered to where Charlaine was joined to her butler and personal trainer. Jamaica's generous coffee and cream breasts were pushed against the fuck-me red Egyptian cotton covering the bed and she was making loud slurping sounds to syncopate her bedmates' groans and expletives.

Pietro got to his knees just behind the sexy mulatta, licking his lips as he jumped into the wake-up session and pushed himself into Jamaica's glistening pussy all the way to the hilt and reached forward to cup the chambermaid's plump breasts.

"Nipple clamps? Oh, you naughty little puttana," Pietro murmured as he rubbed his big palms over the body jewelry to Jamaica's pleased little mewls. "You think of everything. Well, then, my hands are free for other delicious pleasures, my caramel kitty."

Despite the very heavy simulation Pietro was giving her, Jamaica did not pause in her oral or manual ministrations upon the increasingly frantic threesome on the bed. Rather, she moaned, groaned and hissed loud and long, the vibrations from her lips and tongue making the butler, quality-control specialist and personal trainer she was feasting on shudder, scream and cuss even harder.

"Ah, yes, your pussy is so tight, Jamaica," Pietro bit out, pushing the woman's legs further apart and spitting on her puckered brown anus before plunging two fingers right in as he fucked her pussy hard and fast. "You like this?" The chef brought his other hand into play, pinching and pulling at Jamaica's prominent, hard clitoris, making the chambermaid utter cusswords in almost incoherent French. 

"All together now," Matthew cried out through gritted teeth. "We all come NOW."

A chorus of gorans, wails and screams bounced about the walls and windows, off the ceiling and floor and, quite possibly, out into the gardens and straight to the waves of the shore as all five hot and bothered bodies in the loft of the Villa Erotique orgasmed together, sharing a moment in time that would see no duplication, ever. 

Chalk up one for unique sexperiences. Charlaine wondered if she'd even be able to get out of bed this morning. Or if she wanted to.

The Isle of Lays may be part of an archipelago that sits on the world's Typhoon Belt and right atop of the Pacific Ring of Fire, but gale-force storms and volcanic eruptions on the scale of Mt. Pinatubo's big show had nothing on the fiery, earth-shattering, deafening intensity of the simultaneous set of orgasms that had just greeted the most gorgeous sunrise ever.

Gods above, what a wake-up call that was, Charlaine thought to herself when her brain finally cleared away its post-multiorgasmic haze. I'd have to give that a perfect rating. She smiled and stretched contentedly between the heaving chests of Matthew and Miguel as Jamaica and Pietro lay intertwined atop the foot of the bed, bent at the waist and gasping.

+++

The breakfast that greeted Charlaine was truly a feast for the senses. Rashers of perfectly crisp bacon were complemented by French toast that was crisp on the outside and perfectly creamy inside, topped with sweet whipped cream, with plump strawberries and, on the side, a steaming bowl of champorado -- a Filipino chocolate and sticky rice porridge topped with flakes of smoked round scad -- one of her favorite breakfast dishes, ever.

Charlaine held her chin cupped in her left hand as her left hovered above the handle of her mug of perfectly brewed Kona coffee. She was gazing at Pietro's magnificently muscled gluteus maximus and thighs while he puttered about in the kitchen, gathering ingredients for osso bucco.

"You have not tasted truly good Italian cooking until you have tasted my osso buco," Pietro was telling her as he bent over to pop the marinated bone-in beef shanks into the oven. "And only an Italian raised by an Italian mama knows the perfect way to prepare osso bucco." His butt flexed as he straightened up and Charlaine's smile turned into a silly grin.

"So, Pietro, what is your favorite leisure activity here at the Odalisque?" Charlaine decided it would be best to ask her villa staff for recommendations, adding a non-sexual human element to her quality control evaluation as she tapped into the laptop beside the breakfast plate she'd cleared of food in record time. Talk about Michelin-class chef. Rawr. He's just as delish as the food -- and that's plenty delish.

"Well, I'm a very physical man," Pietro began slicing onions, peeling and mincing garlic and chopping tomatoes as he spoke. "I like nature. Particularly the forest trails and the hidden waterfall. So I'd suggest that you try both. The forest trail is also where you can see a version of this country's ulog, the tradition of husband-selection by actual trial in a hut -- without the need to marry, of course," he said with a broad, friendly grin that showed off his perfect, white teeth and dimples she hadn't seen until that smile.

"Seriously, they took the Ifugao custom of ulog and turned it into a trail feature?" Charlaine shook her head. I'm just going to have to see how this works out, then.

Miguel walked into the kitchen, impeccably dressed in his butler uniform and smiled at Charlaine and Pietro. "Oh, yes, they did," he said, grinning. Obviously he'd overheard her conversation with the chef. "You can even dress the part of Ifugao maiden -- if you call walking about in just a wraparound native skirt and bare up top dressed. There are three divergent trails you can take: One on the right-hand side for the people who are exclusively heterosexual, one on the left-hand side for the exclusively homosexual and the middle path where anything goes."

The ulog, Charlaine recalled from her anthropology classes at the state university, was how Ifugao women of child-bearing age selected their husbands. Their parents would build them a hut on stilts of bamboo or wood with thatched roofing, slatted wood or bamboo floors, large, open picture windows and a single door opening up onto a shallow set of steps. The maiden would lay on a woven sleeping mat inside the hut and her suitors would enter, one after the other, to see if they were sexually compatible. If the suitor was a good partner by the maiden's measure, he would stay the night and they would emerge from the hut a married couple. If he wasn't, she sent him out and saw the next one.

"Our ancestors had a good way of ensuring that marriages would be both satisfying and lasting," Miguel said by way of conversation with Charlaine as he cleared the dining table and began loading the dishwasher. "They knew good sex played a very vital part in any marriage."

"Yes," Charlaine answered readily. "There was no guilt in having pleasure as well as duty in those days." Her smile lit up the room and caught an aswering grin from both butler and chef.

"Ah, but there is a lot to be said for good, old-fashioned religion-inspired guilt," Pietro shot back. "When something like sex and the immense pleasure it brings is seen as filthy and sinful, the pleasure is increased by the size of your guilt, no? You are both presumably Catholic by upbringing, you know I speak the truth."

"Well, yes, guilty pleasure would not be as good without the guilt factor," Charlaine answered and laughed before adding: "There is just something very exciting about thinking you will burn in Hell for the things you're doing that would curl the hair on your parish priest's chest and make him walk awkwardly with a blaphemous hard-on after you confess all to him."

"So, blasphemy in the confessional, sacrilege and priests with a hard-on turn you on," Miguel noted with a cocked eyebrow as he ran the dishwasher and cleaned up the countertops. "You should check out the Forbidden Place, then."

"Forbidden Place?" Charlaine's interest was now well and truly focused on the young mestizo butler's smoothly handsome face.

"It's near the other pier," he said casually, smiling as his eyes roamed over Charlaine's surprised face. "The one where the cruise liners with contracts to dock at the Isle of Lays are moored and day-trippers come off the boat for a little naughty adventure. The compound there has a quaint old church and graveyard that the Odalisque Resort management had restored. The church has confessionals and a few, ahem, priests and nuns, as well as a small parochial school building with schoolmistresses, schoolmasters, even a headmaster and schoolgirls and schoolboys. All of them age of consent or above, of course."

Wow, choices, choices. Charlaine's eyes widened and she shook her head slowly. "So, my choices include blasphemy and sacrilege, huh? Wow."

Perhaps it was time to explore her long-disused Catholic guilt, then.

+++

Charlaine hadn't worn a parochial school outfit in over a decade and this one was definitely not the kind of outfit her school's Mother Superior would have approved of. 

The blouse was frilled and ruffled as most parochial school outfits were, with the exception that the white linen clung to her curves and was so tight the seams strained and her breasts popped up in their white lace demi-bra through the vee left by an open buttonhole.

A navy-blue jumper-skirt cinched her waist tightly and the hem barely covered her high and rounded hind end, leaving her bare nether-regions amply aired. The one of the shoulder straps on the jumper kept dropping off her shoulder, as if beckoning someone to defile this luscious little school-girl with her dark brown curls tamed into a reverse French braid falling in a straight queue down her back and pointing the way to her dark, forbidden heaven below.

White ankle socks and low-heeled black Mary Janes completed the outfit Jamaica had assembled for Charlaine and Miguel entered the walk-in wardrobe to add his finishing touch to her outfit.

"My, don't we look demure," he growled out wolfishly. "But we can't have you go to parochial school and confession bare down there." He put a leather harness onto the vanity table, along with several vibrators of varying sizes, with their remote controls, and set the items alongside the harness and grinned at Charlaine. "Here, I brought a little something to keep you from getting too bored with school. Pick your wild."

Grinning, Jamaica adjusted Charlaine's blouse, tweaking her nipples sharply in the process. "There you go, honey-chile, beautiful. If I were you, I'd pick the one with a prong up front for your clit and a slim, tapered one for your ass. The priest on duty today has a monster of a cock." The chambermaid glossed her lips with a naughty, horny tongue after saying her piece.

Intrigued about the coming adventure, Charlaine selected the vibrators she wanted and handed them to Miguel. "These should do me just fine."

The butler nodded, smiled and attached the dildos to the harness and lubed the tapered one Charlaine had picked before turning to the chambermaid. "Jam, perhaps you could prepare our lovely Laine's pretty pussy and ass for these toys?" 

Miguel then turned to Charlaine, his eyes full of sensual command and said, "kneel with knees apart, missy, and bend over the vanity stool. Raise that gorgeous ass up high so Jamaica's tongue and fingers can reach both your holes easily."

A gush of wetness flooded Charlaine's pussy, spreading to the inside of her labia and glossing her slit as she complied wordlessly. She was turned on already and hadn't been touched yet. Their mind-fuck technique is very, very good, her inner slut said in approval.

Then she felt a soft, wet fluttering at her wet nether lips, a fluttering that strengthened into firm licks and a steady, flicking rhythm at her clitoris as she moaned softly, her nipples hardening atop breasts that were swelling from arousal as they hung over the other edge of the padded vanity stool.

Slim, slick fingers pressed their way slowly into Charlaine's hot cunt, curling over her G-spot, fucking her slowly and deeply while the tongue that had flicked her clit and slit began licking and poking its tip against her perineum and into her roseate pucker. Her parted legs shook and she put a hand to her mouth, sucking on two fingers while Jamaica tongue-fucked her ass and kept pumping three fingers into her dripping beaver.

"Your personal trainer told me to let you have some free time," Miguel said. "So you may come at will, Laine." He got to his knees before her and opened his fly. "You may also suck on me, if you wish, he said bringing out his erect cock and frigging himself right in front of her face.




Isle of Lays Ch. 06



Charlaine couldn't resist Miguel's cock, the scent of his musk filling her nostrils and making her wetness even more intense as her pussy clenched on Jamaica's fingers and her ass did the same to the chambermaid's talented tongue. She opened wide and swallowed Miguel down to the back of her throat in one hungry go. Her tongue swirled around the pulsing shaft, tracing angry veins as she withdrew her head, sucking all the way, and plunged him back into her mouth and throat.

Miguel had a remote control in hand and he was toying with the buttons as Jamaica began to squirm. She had a vibrator up her cunt and Charlaine saw this through the wardrobe mirrors because the chambermaid knelt on one leg and had the other splayed out, her foot resting flat on the ground. The chambermaid was swaying her hips to the beat of her fingers fucking Charlaine.

The butler clenched his hands on the edges of the vanity stool, his face fierce and his spine arched back as his cock throbbed and pumped. "Holy Lord fucking Christ, you sure can suck, Ma'am. Ay, tang-inang yan, chupa pa..." His words trailed away into heavy, animal grunts as Jamaica took her penetration of Charlaine to the next level.

A very feminine feeling of primal power surged through Charlaine as she blew Miguel with all her might. Her hips bucked and jerked upwards as her orgasm approached with Jamaica's tongue in her ass and the chambermaid's fingers pumping staccatto into her pussy. Just as she was about to come, the chambermaid pushed one slick finger, and then another, into her asshole and the pumping and finger-curling pushed Charlaine over the edge.

Charlaine's screams around Miguel's cock set his orgasm off and he spurted hot, salty semen into her mouth as Jamaica let out a heartfelt "ohmigodthatisfuckinggood," threw her head back and convulsed to the beat of the pleasure coursing through all three of them. Miguel's vocalizations were wordless hisses and groans. Apparently, his vocabulary did come with limits. Good ones.

Fighting for breath, Jamaica took the harness and its attachments and gently inserted the dildos into Charlaine's still-sensitive holes, buckling the black leather straps at her hips and kissing the globes of the Charlaine's sated ass tenderly as she stroked the insides of the woman's still-quivering thighs.

"There, cherie, you are now properly outfitted for your schoolroom and parish visit," Jamaica said, leaning back against one of the mirrored walls as she breathed deeply. "You are so delicious, you beautiful woman. I almost envy the priest."

+++

Father John sat in his black cassock on the other side of a woven confessional screen. He'd gotten a call that a penitent was about to arrive for confession and smiled. 

The man had a kind, Eurasian face and a genial smile and was well-built for someone approaching his fifties. He heard the swish of a curtain and the soft hiss of air leaving the leather-covered foam padding of the kneeler on the other side of the confessional and slid the partition open to begin.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," spoke a soft voice on the other side of the woven wicker screen separating them. 

"Do you have your instruments of penance, child?"

"Yes, father."

"Good, hand them to me through the slit at the bottom of the confessional screen so we may begin."

Two small remote controls were slid through the slit in the wicker screen and Father John tested the buttons on them.

"Oh, oh, father!"

Yep, they worked, alright. Father John smiled and set both remotes to medium intensity and began his spiel.

"What sins have you committed, child, that you must confess to me and seek absolution?"

"I have had lustful thoughts, father. Very lustful thoughts."

"Tell me your lustful thoughts, my child, that you may cleanse your soul."

"I have had lustful thoughts of fellating a priest, father."

The vibrations went up a notch higher, just like the arousal old Father John was starting to feel beneath his cassock.

"I have also had lustful thoughts of repeatedly penetrating a nun with my fingers and a dildo while a priest gives me cunnilingus, father."

"Oh, my, those are indeed lustful thoughts, my child," said Father John as he fingered the higher settings on the dildos and pushed. 

Gasps and moans came through the screen as he pulled the screen open. "We must do this confession face-to-face, then, as the gravity of your sins requires it. Tell me, in detail, about your carnal thoughts with the clergy, my child."

"Oooooh, father, I want to kiss you, just thrust my tongue into your mouth and suck yours into mine before I suck the Holy Spirit out of you through your rock-hard penis." Charlaine's face was flushed and her eyes shone brightly as she looked at the enormous cock rising in a tent made of black serge cassock on Father John's lap.

"I want to lick your holy staff and make you take God's name in vain. I want to hear you call the names of the saints as you take your pleasure from my mouth." Charlaine was licking her lips as the man in the cassock looked down the cleavage that sat upon the arm-rest of the padded kneeler like an offertory to lust.

"Well, now, we're going to need a bit of help to expunge those sinful thoughts from your wicked head, my daughter," Father John said gravely. "Wait for me here and stay on your knees while I call Sister Mary Frances.

Father John stood up and exited his side of the confessional, but not before he brought the vibrators inserted in Charlaine's body down to a low buzz, keeping her on the edge but not pushing her over. 

Charlaine writhed as she waited, her hands clasped as if in prayer. If praying for release could be classified as religious prayer, that is. She felt her nipples pushing against the cotton of her blouse and the straps of her jumper-skirt and the heat between her legs as the vibrators pumped and jived merrily inside her pussy and ass in an alternating rhythm that was making her squirm deliciously. The leather beneath her knees and around her body felt so good, so sensual.

The curtain to the confessional was swept aside and light shone in as Father John tied the curtain back.

"There she is Sister Mary Frances," Father John said with a sweep of his hand to the shapely nun in a black and white habit and veil. Even her habit could not hide the fact that her breasts jutted out a good way from her chest. More to the point, without makeup, the nun's face was beautiful, with full, red lips that were made to pleasure private parts and a strong chin that hinted at a strict mien. 

Sister Mary Fances had high, fine cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and eyes that slanted up at the outer corners and which were an icy blue that contrasted beautifully with her lightly tanned skin. She held a wooden pointer stick in one hand and was tapping it against the palm of her other hand in time to the tapping of her sensibly-shod feet.

"So she said she wants to fellate a priest and finger-fuck a nun, did she?" The question the woman asked was pointed, severe, and more a statement than a query. "Such behavior must be given its just reward."

"We may have to put her on the altar and whip the devil out of her, too," Father John said, his face serious, but with a glint of mischief in his eyes as he raised the intensity of the vibrators to maximum.

"Ooooooh, ohmigod, ooooh! Fuck!" Charlaine couldn't hold back her gasp as she came so close to coming she could taste it and, as she rushed to that glorious peak, Father John ratcheted back the vibes, stopping her orgasm in its tracks as she groaned in frustration. Charlaine's hands had found their way under her jumper straps and were tweaking her nipples.

"We need to address your sins, my child," Father John said as he stepped back into his side of the confessional and parted his cassock to reveal a cock that Charlaine would need both hands to hold properly. "We need to know the exact nature of your fantasies of fellating a priest. Be a good girl and show us."

Sister Mary Frances stepped behind Charlaine and pulled her hips backward so her ass peeked out from under her tiny blue skirt. "I will need to see your buttocks, child, so that I may help administer your penance." Her hands stroked over Charlaine's full bottom slowly, conveying her intent to punish that sinful ass.

Charlaine licked her lips and plunged headlong into this fantasy, the one she'd had since her pubescent parochial school days, the one she'd never been able to bring to life. Until now.

Her mouth was watering, just as her pussy was soaking the leather harness and she so very much wanted that turgid, fat cock right in front of her. So she started by licking the red mushroom cockhead.

"Very good, my child, go on," Father John said, smiling down at her with no judgment at all on his weathered but handsome face, only lust burned in his eyes, and delight.

Charlaine opened her mouth wider and took as much of the man's cock as she could, using both hands to jerk the rest of the cock she could not yet ingest.

She heard a slight whistling and felt a stinging pain on her right butt cheek and her hips jerked forward as she sucked and pulled at Father John's cock. 

Sister Mary Frances had whipped her with the wooden pointer, lightly, but definitely with punitive intent. "Take your hands off Father John's heavenly staff, my dear." That was an order and Charlaine complied, moving her hands to her own breasts, squeezing them through her uniform to soothe the aches building in her ass and pussy.

The nun whipped Charlaine's other butt cheek as Father John took Charlaine's long braid and wrapped it around his right hand, using it as a handle to pull her face closer against his groin until his cockhead hit the back of her throat and Father John growled out a single word. "Swallow."

Charlaine complied and found that the priest had his entire man-of-God length down her throat and he held her close against his trimmed pubic curls by her braid as Sister Mary Fances swatted her ass with the wooden pointer, the syncopation and force of the blows warming her ass and making her shiver in reaction to the exqisite mix of pleasure and pain.

The face-fucking in the confessional took on a faster pace, as did the rise and fall of the wooden pointer on Charlaine's ass. 

The priest had one remote and the nun had the other and, after exchanging meaningful looks, both hit max on the remotes they held simultaneously, as Father John thrust his cock all the way down Charlaine's throat and released his come.

Unable to scream, Charlaine came hard and her moaning around Father John's cock had him screaming: "Oh, Heavenly Father, your glory is indeed great. Oh, fuck, God you made miracles when you made Eve! Hallelujah! Praised be your big fucking dick and all its kingdom COME!"

+++

Charlaine sat back in the golf cart as it wended its way back to her villa, basking in the memories she'd just made.

What a thrill it was to lie spread out like an offering on the altar beneath a great big cross with its bloody and naked Jesus looking down at her as she finger-fucked and clit-sucked Sister Mary Frances to a screaming orgasm while Father John ate out her pussy.

Even better was the way Sister Mary Frances stripped to show off her porn-star body and tribbed her pussy right there on the celebrant's chair while Father John sucked and massaged Charlaine's breasts. And Sister Mary Frances' mammary monuments, too.

Oh, and when two altar-boys showed up, they really got the party started, with the women sixty-nining in savage revelry as the newcomers lifted their altar-boy clothes and fucked both women from behind. In the ass. While the women finger-fucked each other and Father John screwed each altar-boy in turn. Also in the ass. With holy oil for lube.

Surprisingly, Charlaine felt lighter for her confession and the creative expunging of her sinful thoughts.

There is nothing like Catholic guilt to give a girl satisfaction, after all.



Isle of Lays Ch. 07



 A/N: It has been quite the while since I've been able to update this story. I hope you do enjoy this chapter. Feedback is most welcome, should you wish to let me know what you think of the story so far.

*****

Sitting at naked her villa workstation over a late lunch, Charlaine savored her bowl of osso bucco, sucking the marrow from the bone as she contemplated the metrics she was setting for the wake-up call, fantasy-fulfillment scenarios and, yes, the excellent in-house service at the Odalisque resort.

The word "spreadsheet" would never be the same for her again, really. There she was with her legs spread and her pussy wetter than the warm Pacific Ocean outside her window. 

Tapping on her keyboard, she entered her matrices and observations, the map of pleasure she was measuring in exact and pristine detail. So far, the Odalisque was exceeding expectations.

Switching to her email, Charlaine checked for a response to her request to observe the interview, hiring and training of resort staff and smile with satisfaction as she read the reply of Mr. Jonas Buenas, the resort CEO.

Good morning Ms. Caro,

We are pleased to inform you that your request to observe the interview of applicants, hiring process and training of the staff has been approved. 

We will have new applicants arriving tomorrow morning and you can spend the morning in the interview room. Our HR chief, Ms. Candace Green, will brief you on the processes involved in interviewing and hiring applicants and on the training process at 9:30 a.m. 

Ms. Green will also brief you on the traning process after the interviews and hiring process are completed at noon.

We hope your stay at the Odalisque has been a satisfying one. 

Sincerely yours,

Jonas Buenas

CEO, Odalisque Resorts

She shot back a quick note of acknowledgment and thanks, and got back to her metrics and assessments. Who knew one could be so businesslike in just one's skin?

+++

Inasmuch as she was working, though, Charlaine could not resist rubbing her hard clitoris (arousal is so easy under the right circumstances, and even work can be pleasure). 

Charlaine leaned back as she spread her legs in front of the blinking webcam recording her self-loving and she couldn't help the thrill she felt that someone, somewhere was getting hot and bothered watching her touch herself so boldly.

Just as she felt her orgasm cresting, Charlaine heard heavy footfalls on the carpet behind her. 

"Tsk, tsk, you don't need to do for yourself, beautiful one," she heard Pietro's voice floating down through her haze of lust. "We will take care of that pampered pink pussy of yours, bellissima. Just keep rubbing lightly while Pietro takes your plate out. I'll be back to help you reach that screaming orgasm."

Pietro gave her right earlobe a long, carnal lick and a light nip as he reached across her to take her plate and disappeared as she shivered from the little erotic aftershocks.

Charlaine eased up her rubbing a bit, moving to slower motions geared toward keeping her on the edge but not pushing her over. When Pietro returned, he had Matthew with him and they were stroking one another lightly, eyeing her as if she were the most delicious dessert, ever.

Pietro set a palette with daubs of the villa's edible paints down on the desk and Matthew pulled up a calligraphy paintbrush.

"You haven't tried this, I believe?" Was Matthew's question as he dipped his brush in a daub of Strawberry Champagne and mixed it with Vanilla Creme. "Sit back, spread those beautiful thighs and let me tap my inner artist. Pietro can tell me if I mixed the flavors right after the paint dries."

Pietro took up a post behind the ergo chair, rolling it back so Matthew would have space to move a footstool he could sit on as he painted Charlaine's quivering thighs.

The soft camel hair brushed in swirls and curlicues as Matthew painted magnolias and dogwood blossoms over Charlaine's legs, and a cleverly posed nymph over her belly. Pietro kept busy by playing with Charlaine's nipples, rolling them in strong white fingers that contrasted beautifully with her golden skin tone. 

"Ah, bella donna, I cannot wait to see how well the paints' flavor blend with your sweat, your musk, your slick juices. I might take all month just on that navel," Pietro whispered between nips and licks at her neck and earlobe. "I want to spear both you and that spread-eagled nymph with my cock, my fingers, my tongue. Not necessarily in that order."

"Ah, chef, leave some for me," Matthew said, looking up from his quaking canvas. "I like cherry and blueberry. You're going to have to let me taste this flower-strewn lake the lovely Calliope is dipping her toe in." Languid brushstrokes skimmed Chalaine's clit, making her draw her knees together. 

Pietro's quick, light hands tap on the insides of her thighs. "No, no, no, love, you don't do that. Matteo cannot paint the lake if you shut those luscious legs." 

He ran his hands sensuously up her flanks as Charlaine relaxed her legs and molded her breasts, circling her nipples and giving them a swift little pinch that made her pussy gush and her knees fall back down on the ergo chair's armrests.

Charlaine felt the faintest wet pressure of the brush swirling around the bud of her clitoris and her pelvic muscles clenched, her cunt spasming, begging for release and a low moan issued from her throat.

"Please, let me suck your cock, Pietro, I need to put something big and juicy in my mouth," Charlaine turned her head to the chef, her pupils dilated in extreme arousal as her personal trainer continued to sweep his tints along her labia minora, majora and all over the hood of her horny little clit.

And so went the body painting session, with Charlaine pumping the chef's monster cock as she sucked desperately on what girth and length she could take down her throat. Matthew continued painting the sky and clouds on her chest, flicking her nipples with the paintbrush's wet tip, circling areolae and moving up to her neck until he'd completed the pastoral scene straight out off a Greek urn, in living color.

As Charlaine lay spread on the chair like a drying canvas (one that, quite contrarily, would always sport a wet spot), Miguel and Jamaica came in to look at Matthew's painting, admiring the skill the man had applied to the edible artwork.

"I believe you just earned a reward, Matthew," Miguel said, pulling the other man's cargo shorts open and pulling out his hard cock, spreading Matthew's pearly pre-come over the plum-colored head with a casual thumb and firmly stroking that darkling penis like he owned it. "I also believe Charlaine would love to see you under my hands for a bit while she lets your magnum opus dry."

"Oh, man, go for it," Matthew answered, jerking his hips forward and back to the rhythm of Miguel's pumping hand. "You know what makes me hot." Matthew groaned and ground his ass against Miguel's crotch as the butler bit his earlobe and Jamaica joined the fray, pilling the ottoman over in front of Matthew, bending her nude body over it and licking lightly at Matthew's engorged cockhead.

"Do you like watching two men going at it, Laine?" Miguel's question was husky, dark. "Masarap ito, Laine. It feels so good to have someone handle you like this, knowing just where to squeeze and where to tease, where to stroke and where to lick. Do you want me to fuck Matthew? Give you a show? Bend him over and ream his ass while Jamaica here sucks him off? And Matt here knows how to keep the hard-on solid for a long time. His vocals are exquisite. I can even smack his ass just for you. He likes that, does our Matthew."

Charlaine felt her nipples begin to tighten, and the throb in her cleft pulse in her ears as roaring arousal zinged over every nerve ending that camel hair brush touched. There must be something else in that paint, something that makes me feel the brush strokes over and over again, she thought, not taking her eyes off the tableau of lust unfolding before her.

She raised and lowered her hips from her soaked seat, her legs acting as levers. Charlaine was loathe to spoil the paintwork on her skin. She looked toward Matthew in a silent plea.

Between groans of pleasure and gasps of surprise Jamaica slipped a slim, oiled finger into Matthew to massage that erotic walnut called his prostate. 

Matthew drew in a shaking breath under the carnal onslaught, met Charlaine's eyes and spoke. His voice was rough and his breathing coming in hard pulls, each sentence was punctuated by grunts and wordless cries of pleasure and pain: "Squeeze your cunt muscles, my sweet slut. Make yourself come without touching yourself, you dirty girl. You know how to do that. I'll only come when you do and my balls are aching so much now."

With that Matthew threw his head back as Miguel pushed him forward and thrust hard and deep, drawing a sharp, hard "FUCK!" out of Laine's personal trainer and driving the man's cock deeper into Jamaica's mouth. 

"Jamaica is lonely, Matthew, look how her pussy pulses," Miguel said as he pumped his fat length into the personal trainer's grasping asshole. "Rim her asshole, Matt. Finger-fuck that juicy peach of a pussy. Rub her clit and tongue fuck her ass." 

Matthew complied, his movements almost as savage as his passion, leaving a bite on each of Jamaica's caramel ass cheeks before plunging his tongue into her welcoming darkness. 

Jamaica mewled and writhed under Matthew's onslaught, something that made Matthew's muscles tighten even more, so that every group stood out against his dark chocolate skin, under a sheen of the sexiest sweat.

Miguel's eyes met Charlaine's as he grabbed Matthew by the neck and pushed the personal trainer's face harder against the chambermaid's ass and pussy. Miguel swiveled his hips, eliciting a harsh shout from Matthew that made the chambermaid shiver and groan around the cock she was slurping and deep-throating.

Pietro resumed his place beside Charlaine, taking a can of whipped cream and making three-dimensional clouds with it over the ones Matthew had painted on her breasts. 

The sensation of cool cream was light, erotic to her already pebbled nipples. She arched forward in the chair, her open mouth caressed by her chef's wet penis head. She suckled Pietro, mimicking Jamaica's oral action on Matthew and squeezed her pussy's inner walls in a quickstep version of her daily Kegel exercises.

"That's it, cara bellisima, squeeze that pussy muscle, faster and harder" Pietro said above her. "Show us all how you can make yourself come, hands-free. Keep sucking me, just like that. Your mouth is heaven and I can't tell you how good it is to fuck heaven."

All the moaning and grunting was pushing Charlaine to her bliss. The orgy before her was making her cunt pulse almost uncontrollably as she sucked Pietro, enjoying his salt and musk on her tongue, in her mouth and rasping softly against her tonsils.

There it was, Charlaine's first "look-Ma-no-hands" orgasm amid all the cries of completion. Her fresh flow of creamy come ran down into the seat, spangled her outstretched thighs. The villa was silent as its five occupants rested and caught their breath and have some of the bottled water Miguel had set on a nearby coffee table.

Miguel rose to clean himself off and Matthew stretched, his eyes hot and on Charlaine. 

"I believe we have a feast of fruit sitting in that ergo chair," Jamaica said with a sultry smile and splayed legs. "Would you like us to clean you up, Laine? It would be such a pleasure."

+++

Still painted like a sensual mural, Charlaine walked toward the luxe master bath of her villa, ushered there by a smiling and cheerful Jamaica. Charlaine had wondered out loud how the eyelets in the showers would be used while she caught her breath. She'd not seen any bondage equipment in the bathroom save those eyelets. 

Miguel had entered the bathroom first, along with Matthew, who wore a grin and nothing else. Charlaine heard snicking sounds reverberating through the bathroom, the sound of the showers being run and shut off and very raunchy male laughter.

"Yes, I think that will do very nicely," she heard Matthew's voice drifting out of the master bath against a backdrop of buzzing and chuckles and the faintest rattle of chains. "She will love this."

"A blindfold is in order, I believe," Pietro said behind Charlaine. It was the last thing she heard before her eyes were covered in a black silk scarf that had been folded over and bound behind her head.

In short order, Charlaine found herself walked into the huge shower and bound spreadeagled. Her wrists and ankles were wrapped in soft cuffs that felt like they were made of padded terrycloth over something solid and unyielding, like metal welded to the chains hanging from the eyelets. 

There she was, presented like an exotic dessert, or a piece of erotic sculpture. Charlaine could feel the intent scrutiny of her household staff, feel their breaths on her neck, her back, her throat and, goodness, her wet, throbbing pussy.

The paintbrush swept her skin again, right above the Achilles heel of her left leg, swirling, swiping its way from the outside in, approaching the apex of her thighs and bypassing her throbbing center to swirl and swipe its way in a reverse path down her right leg.

Another paintbrush wended a meandering stroke, then a quick one on her buttocks, first the right, then the left, then it dipped slowly up and down the cleft between, stopping shy of her puckered, clenching asshole. 

They pinned her hair up and painted her back and the nape of her neck, the lobes of her ears. Charlaine made sounds caught between laughter and groans and the five paintbrushes began to move with more pressure and speed. One of the brushes went to her slit, perhaps to retouch the paint that had run with her come.

Suddenly, two hungry mouths descended on her breasts, while someone licked at her earlobes and neck, sucking hard, then nipping a gentle bite that gave her a flick of pain that made her legs shake.

Large hands, probably Pietro's, pulled her thighs apart and a hot tongue laved her labia, delved into the folds between majora and minora, licked around her clitoral hood but left that hard little knot of nerves and flesh waiting, wanting—until he blew on it and her knees shook some more.

The licking Charlaine was getting pulled the sweetest sounds from her throat, but she truly unleashed her vocal power when someone pulled her ass cheeks apart and rimmed that pulsing rosette just as a wet painrbrush began lightly whipping the very tip of her clit.

"That's it, sweetie, come for us," Matthew crooned into her ear, licking and nipping a path of fire between the sensitive spot at the juncture of her shoulder and neck and that erogenous zone at the very tip of her earlobe. "We love making you come undone for us."

"Do you want to have your hard little nubbin sucked and licked while Pietro fucks you, sweetness?" The question came from Miguel, who'd taken his mouth from her left breast and whose fingers were busy caressing both her nipples now that he'd licked away the whipped cream.

"Yes, oh, yes, fuck me and suck me, please." Charlaine threw her head back against Pietro's shoulder as he rubbed his cock up and down her slit. 

"I love how wet you are, Laine, my goddess," Pietro murmured in a low growl against the nape of her neck, his tongue tracing the thrum of her arousal along her carotid artery. "Ah, to bury myself in your tight sheath. Heaven. But first..."

Charlaine heard a low buzzing sound and felt her ass cheeks being spread by small, dainty hands as Jamaica licked blueberry paint off her upper thighs in hot little laps. 

Charlaine's anus got another licking, with the licker's groans (was that Matthew?) vibrating against the little hole—vibrations that were replaced by the slickness of lube and a slim metal vibrator that was slowly fucked in and out of her asshole.

The chef stood behind Charlaine again, grasping her shoulders as he slowly inched his way into her clasping pussy. Both her breasts were getting suckled hard now. Two tongues were flicking at her nipples as Pietro slowly fucked his way into her pussy.

She thrust her chest out as far as she could, pushing her ass out at the same time as Pietro withdrew his cock. She wanted to be filled to the hilt and did not want him to go.

But she wound up thrusting her hips forward as she felt a warm breath blowing on her mound, felt the tantalizing flick of Jamaica's tongue fleetingly skim her slit.

Pietro untied the blindfold then, just when Jamaica began to suck harder, lick with more force and Charlaine saw herself in the shower's mirrored wall being pleasured by the villa staff. Their hands skimmed her fever-hot flesh as Pietro held her up with an arm around her waist.

Each one looked her in the eye as she gazed, heavy-lidded, into the mirror, licking away more of the edible paint as she shook and orgasmed once, twice, thrice, her coming so intense no sound issued from her throat.

Then they turned on the shower and Jamaica began to soap Charlaine and kiss her deeply, a mulatta hand firmly entrenched in her hair to hold it up under the searing heat of that kiss. 

Matthew came up from behind and began to soap both of his "dirty girls" and fuck Jamaica from the rear as she kissed Charlaine.

Ohmygod, I should be sore, Charlaine thought to herself. But they've been very good at this—no soreness. I'm actually hungry for more.

They let Charlaine loose from her bonds and they finished their shower, with the men stroking themselves and the women kissing and rubbing their cunts on each other's thighs or pleasuring each other with handheld shower heads as the men stroked them softly on their breasts, their ass clefts, the clitorises they could catch. 

It was all very leisurely now, very relaxed and Charlaine exited the master bath knowing the blinking green light over the topmost showerhead meant they had pleasured more than their little orgy group.

+++

"I want to try the ulog, Miguel," Charlaine said as she relaxed even more under Matthew's massaging hands. The sharp scent of rosemary oil and bergamot woke her senses. "I wonder if they have those huts open in the evening?"

The chef, chambermaid, and butler were back in their clothes and sitting on the chairs surrounding the bed as Charlaine reached the end of her shiatsu session.

Miguel gave her a long look and smiled. "The ulog is usually at night, sweetness. We can have you kitted out and in a cottage in no time. Is there anyone in particular you'd like to have in there with you?"

"I think I like the idea of sex with strangers, perhaps a warrior like the legendary Lam-Ang," Charlaine mused. "You said my preferences would be posted outside the doorway, right? That should be plenty safe."

"You'll have that, and Matthew and myself outside the hut, ready to assist you if needed," Miguel said. "We can keep busy outside on this clear summer night quite well. If that's what you want, then Pietro can prepare your dinner and pack a food hamper to take with you to the ulog."

So Miguel and Jamaica decked Charlaine out as a tribal maiden, wrapping her hips in a length of heavy, hand-woven fabric in primal shades of black and red, put a plumed headdress on her head and fastened belled anklets and bracelets where they belonged and put a collar of beaten gold in tribal designs of lizards and sun disks around her throat.

Pietro placed the food hamper on the living room table and held her cheeks in his hands: "Bellissima, donna, you are every inch the highland princess now. This is one of the most romantic fantasies in the Odalisque and we have chosen a magnificent warrior prince for you."




Isle of Lays Ch. 07



The chef took a sip of iced tea and his head dipped low to suckle her nipples. Charlaine yelped when she felt the ice in his mouth swirl around each nipple. "We can't have your nipples be shy now, darling. Matteo and Miguel will see to them as needed tonight if you find your tribal princeling not to your taste."

+++

The hut was quiet, the mattress on the floor was soft and bouncy, perfect for fucking under the big full moon shining though the picture window. Charlaine laid back on the mattress, removed her necklace and closed her eyes, intending to nap as she waited for her first partner.

Just as she was about to drift off, the little bamboo steps creaked. Someone was coming in and she beheld a wiry man garbed as a young warrior, his g-string barely containing am erection that was very thick indeed. 

The sound of tribal drums and gongs carried over the night wind, someone somewhere was dancing the caniao, the highland dance to bring fertility and prosperity to the tribes that performed it. 

A lone voice was raised in an ancient chant and another voice answered its plaintive call—Bulan answering her banished lover, calling him to find her as she fled her cruel brother Arao. The lovers' voices carried on the night breeze, plaintive, passionate in their searching.

He silently removed his ornate, rooster-feather headdress and let out a low wolf whistle. He lowered a wooden tower shield with ornate carvings and a lethal-looking long spear with its barbs jutting out between haft and tip to the floor by the door.

"I've been blessed tonight," the man said, "I have a beautiful dalaga here, or are you a diwata?"

His voice was melodious, low, strong, as if he could chant the epics of the highlands for days. As if he had, indeed chanted those epics passed on from parent to child since before the colonizers came with their swords and crosses.

"I am no diwata, my warrior. Just a woman looking for the right man," Charlaine answered in a clear voice. "Can you satisfy me tonight and stay, I wonder?"

"I have bulitas of silver, my lady, those piercings that will pleasure you with the metal of our mines," her warrior replied. "They line the top of my tarugo like good soldiers. I have a piercing in my tongue that will rub your nipples and call your clitoris out to play."

He reached for her, pulling Charlaine into a shaft of moonlight, his mouth hovering a breath away from her full lips and kissed her slowly, letting the heat build until it was Charlaine who pressed her tongue in attack on his.

The warrior held Charlaine at bay for a moment, looking into her mooonlit face. She took in his beautiful face, so familiar in its nativeness. His forehead was wide, his nose bridge sat high and tapered to flared nostrils, his lips were generous and full and his jaw smooth and strong. 

His eyes wandered down to her bare breasts, and he smiled as he nuzzled her neck softly, taking in her clean scent of rosemary and the arousal pooling at the apex of her thighs.

"Let me show you how these piercings bring joy, maiden of the moonlight. Sit astride my lap." He was kneeling on the mattress behind her, licking the shell of her ear and pulling her gently to his lap as the round barbell piercing traced her ear and neck and she bared more of her throat to his questing fingers.

Charlaine closed her eyes and set her hands down on his thighs as she straddled him thus, her body facing the window and gilded by the moon's reflected light.

The warrior slowly skimmed his hands over her breasts, just brushing her erect nipples with his rough palms and fingertips. She heard the rustling of nocturnal birds in the trees that sheltered their hut, the song of cicadas in the distance as her warrior undid the knot of her tapis and lightly stroked the outsides of her folded and parted thighs.

His fingers skimmed inside her thighs, tracing electricity from the insides of her knees to her inguinal seams, playing Charlaine softly as she drew in unsteady breaths and arched her back to rest her head on his solid chest.

One hand came up to her throat, caressing her jugular vein, feeling the speed of her heartbeat, a thrum that was rivaled by the throbbing in her nipples, her navel, the very heart of her, the pulse that set the rhythm for her clitoris' throbbing as her puki wept in arousal.

The warrior reached a hand out to the side of the mattress and produced and uncorked a flask made of polished coconut husks held together by hardened tree resin. 

"Would you care for tapuey, my lady?" He held the flask up to her lips. "I brewed this sweet rice wine just for you." 

Charlaine cupped the flask in both her hands and drank deeply of the sweet wine, not feeling its bite until it slid to the back of her throat. 

The warrior released the flask to cup Charlaine's breasts fully, rubbing the pads of his thumbs and forefinger in sweet friction around the sides of her breasts, tracing circles that tightened until they finally rolled her nipples and she put down the flask and corked it again.

"Touch your breasts, my diwata, I need to touch you down there, in the warm place between your legs. I need to know you want me," the warrior murmured into her neck, his voice husky with the arousal she could feel stirring beneath the fabric of her tapis. 

"I am wet for you, warrior," Charlaine repliedm bringing her hands up to cup her breasts anyway as she turned her face to his. "I want you, that is sure."

The warrior brought his rough hands firmly down to her thighs, parting them in a silent demand as he pushed his legs out under her, raising her knees with his. He held her thus, thighs parted, torso arched into the silver light of the moon, her nipples jutting out into the chiaroscuro of night and moonbeams.

"You are so beautiful like this, my maiden. So wet for me," he said as he licked her from earlobe to shoulder and back again. "We will have so much pleasure the gods will be jealous. Bulan will hide forever and Arao will not come out for shame of his wilting little titi."

The warrior's fingers began to slide into Charlaine's slick folds, massaging around her labia slowly. He turned her face to his and kissed her, his tongue licking languidly into her mouth, teasing her tongue with his little barbell. 

The slow rhythm of his tongue was echoed by his fingers as those hard digits twisted slowly into her slick, hot pussy, his rough palm chafing her clitoris in a sweet friction that built her lust steadily. 

The warrior stroked Charlaine's G-spot with constant, firm pressure, his speed constant as he caressed her breasts and pulled on one nipple after another, whispering how much he wanted to fuck her, how tight she was and how hot she was. 

"I am going to stroke this spot deep inside you with every one of my twelve bulitas, beautiful one. I will make you call the names of all the gods in your pleasure," he said as he bit her earlobe and plucked at a hard nipple again and again. "But it will be me you will call when you hit the highest peak. My name is Lam-Ang."

Charlaine was coming hard, her orgasms overlapping and intensifying until she cried out that she could take no more, that she needed him to stop. She was too sensitive now, it was too much.

Lam-Ang merely turned her to straddle him, rubbing the underside of his bare cock against her slick slit to keep the sensation at this plateau of pleasure-pain and pinned her wrists to either side of her hips, gyrating slowly all the while as she moaned and begged.

"Am I hurting you?" Lam-Ang asked, looking intently into Charlaine's eyes. 

"Yes. No. I don't know, Lam-Ang, but I've never had this," Charlaine gasped out. Her breasts rose and fell as she struggled to breathe through the intense, almost electric sensations coursing from her clitoris and slit all the way out to the top of her scalp, her fingertips, her toes.

"Let me keep this up, sweet thing. I promise you a coming only the gods know—one that lasts all the way to the cock-crow of dawn," Lam-Ang said, laying her gently on the mattress before he took a nipple in his mouth and bit down on it lightly, making her arch her back and grind her pussy against his hard, thick member.

She had no more words, could only nod as Lam-Ang plucked at her other nipple as he sucked one in. He switched and kept grinding against her, forcing another set of shuddering moans and wails from Charlaine as she gripped his raven hair in desperate hands. 

Lam-Ang licked a path down the center of her belly, dipping into her navel and making her belly shake as she drew in a sharp breath. By the time his tongue and its barbell slid up and down her slit, she exploded again, screaming this time as her legs shook and she lost all control of her limbs.

His pierced tongue invaded her oversensitive labia. Every nerve ending in Charlaine's body felt alive as it never had. 

Then he sucked and her her body began throbbing uncontrollably. Tears streaked down her cheeks and she sobbed her warrior's name before sliding into that half-world between waking and unconsciousness.

It was only then that Lam-Ang shed his bahag and slowly began the sacred ritual of the iyot. He knelt there holding out a penis that may well have been a weapon, for it was thicker than he could clasp, though just average in length.

"Will you do this with me, the iyot?" Lam-Ang asked Charlaine, taking one of her hands and placing it on his bulitas-studded erection. Charlaine nodded and parted her thighs.

Lam-Ang knelt between Charlaine's knees and cupped her buttocks. He raised her and impaled her on his cock, thrusting into her smoothly each subcutaneous silver beads rasping in a straight line up and down her G-spot and clit from this position.

Charlaine clung frantically to Lam-Ang's neck, whimpering and scoring him with her teeth and nails as he rocked her slowly up and down his cock, driving up into her from under and leaving savage little suck marks of his own up and down her throat. 

The final string of orgasms had them both passed out, blissed out, for Lam-Ang shouted himself hoarse as he fucked Charlaine harder and faster with each spurt of seed he jetted into her. When they'd finally lain still, his semen was overflowing out of her cunt, his cock's presence in it notwithstanding.

Dawn was breaking and the cocks were crowing on the island and the two lovers slept through it all—so sated were the warrior and the maiden.