7 comments/ 7862 views/ 10 favorites Shattered Hero By: dkalish Its been a long time since I've contributed a post, but for years, unfortunately, there have not been any escapades in my life worth writing about. Since my last story, I've gone to law school and, until a few days ago, I worked at a large firm in New York. Law school was bad, but working as a first year Associate was worse - far worse. A good week was 70 hours. A bad week was 100. I was on the road almost constantly researching cases and meeting with clients. I spent four or more nights a week in some hotel room somewhere - many were quite nice, courtesy of overbilled clients, but I didn't have the time to enjoy them. I made a lot of money, yet didn't have time to spend it. My apartment had a bed, yet it was still filled with moving boxes, unpacked since I moved in a year ago. After 15 months of exhausting work, I finally took a much needed vacation. Without much planning or forethought, I booked trip to Antigua with mileage and hotel points. I thought I might as well get something in return for all that work related travel! This is the story of that trip and how it changed my life. Day One I left early on a Saturday morning. I stretched out in my first class seat and promptly fell asleep, stirring only on arrival. Going straight to the hotel, I checked in and was shown to a luxury suite, complete with private balcony and a view of the ocean. I had packed quickly the night before, throwing the few bathing suits I owned and some summer dresses and shorts into my bag. Now that I was in the hotel, I sorted through the bathing suits and found one that still fit half decently, or should I say, half-indecently. I still have a great body, though I will admit I've put on a pound or two over the last year and gotten just a bit softer; visits to the gym are few and far between. Not having seen the sun in months, I was also as pale as the sheets on my large and inviting bed. Nonetheless, checking myself out in the mirror, I thought I still looked pretty good. Slim waist. Good hips. At the age of 29, my D cup breasts stood out proud, firm, and full. I was satisfied with how I filled out my suit and felt ready for some fun. I soon wandered out to the pool to get some sun. Absorbing as much vitamin D as possible, I dipped into the water to cool off periodically. After a couple of hours, I ordered a massage and went back to my room. When I arrived, a tall, incredibly attractive Black women with long braided hair was setting up the massage table and heating up her oils. She introduced herself as Dani. I stretched out face down on the table and she began her magic, first on my tight and knotted shoulders, second on the small of my back, and then, starting with my feet, she worked her way up my muscled calves and thighs. She was a goddess - and it felt heavenly. I felt the waves of exhaustion roll through my body - and then evaporate into the tropical air. After I rolled over with some effort, Dani started on my front. She rubbed my neck and shoulders, and then started kneading my large breasts. It had been so long since anyone had touched me there. As she applied more oil, my sensitive nipples grew erect and hard. Tingles began to race through my body. Dani then switched to my feet once again, working her way back up my legs. At this point, I could feel myself oozing from my long neglected vagina. Even I could smell the musky odor emanating from "down there." As her hands got ever closer to paradise, I drifted into a pre-orgasmic stupor. All I could think about was the amazing sensations rippling through my body - and all I could hope was that the masseuse would continue her tender ministrations. Finally, she began rubbing around my cleft, where my legs join my torso. I raised myself a bit, silently pleading with her to continue higher. Dani's fingers started on the outside of my labia. I felt myself gush. Now slippery from my juices, her fingers continued to massage my vulva. Moaning loudly, I subtlety urged her on. One finger penetrated me, the other started circling my clit. I don't know how long this continued. I was dazed, lost, unable to comprehend anything other than the intense pleasure that was sweeping through me. At long last, a delicate finger brushed the tip of my clit - and I exploded like a rocket bound for outer space, and indeed, I think I left the earth's gravitational field for a minute or two, positively levitating myself off the massage table. As I was coming back to earth, I felt an incredible new sensation as Dani's tongue replaced her fingers, lapping up the flood between my legs. Soon, her licking was supplemented by a gentle sucking on my clit. My normally little but highly sensitive nub grew to what felt like enormous proportions. It was engorged, a tiny dick that needed to be licked, nibbled, and sucked - and my masseuse appeared more than willing to fulfill my need. This time, I felt myself traveling to the stars - perhaps beyond, to heaven. Exquisite pleasures flowed through me until I could not hold back any longer. I gave into a wonderful, shattering organism the likes of which I had not known for over a year. Dani scooped up the quivering mass of protoplasm that was me and carried me to the bed. She kissed me softly on the lips, then pulled the sheet over me. I mumbled something about putting a huge tip on my bill, and immediately fell into a deep, deep sleep. I woke around 11 PM feeling better than I had in a very long time. A massage, two wonderful orgasms, and a good sleep will apparently do wonders for a working girl. It was late but I was starved, not having eaten since breakfast. Feeling wonderful, I quickly took a shower, got dressed, did my makeup, and went down to the hotel bar in search of food and fun. Dani had awakened something in me that had been forced into dormancy for the last year. Or perhaps it was vacation time on a distant tropical island where I knew no one. I had sex on my mind, and it was a delightful thought. The restaurant was closing at that late hour, but the bar was still serving food. I ordered a nice glass of wine and a steamed local fish and began to check out my surroundings. It appeared that most of the guests were there as couples - or at least had hooked up with one another by that time of night. Over in the far corner was, however, a single guy who, from my distant vantage point, did not look too bad. I watched him for awhile. He looked reasonably tall, though he was sitting at a table so it was hard to know for certain. No obvious defects. Yet, he was alone. I glanced in his direction periodically, waiting to see if a woman or perhaps even a man - you never know - returned to keep him company. By the time my fish had arrived and I quickly devoured it, I gathered he was alone - at least for the night. I decided to join him and, in what for me is still a bold move, picked up my wine glass and asked if I could sit with him. He introduced himself as Brandon. Reciting the usual orienting facts, he said he was a real estate developer from Chicago who was on the island with his boss looking at properties for his company. He was actually pretty cute up close and we connected over shared jokes about being single at a resort hotel on the beach, though he was working and I was not. We chatted for awhile and then he excused himself, saying he was meeting his boss early in the morning and needed to get some sleep. Sensible man I thought to myself. Foolish, because he almost undoubtedly would have gotten laid if he had continued to play his cards right. But sensible. As he walked away, I noticed first his beautiful rear end, and then that he had a small limp. A few moments after he left, he came back and asked if, perhaps, I might be free to join him for dinner the following night, at a more sensible hour. We made plans to meet at 8 PM in the lobby. With little other action in the bar, I went back to my room with a small smile on my face, hopes for tomorrow, and a still empty pussy that wanted - no needed - to be filled. Day Two I woke late the next morning. After a room service breakfast served on my balcony, I decided I needed a new bathing suit. The one I wore yesterday was quite nice, but the others looked, well, too conservative. At the hotel store I found a Brazilian bikini that was far more revealing than anything I'd ever worn in public before. The top showed my enormous breasts to their full advantage - covering only the areolas and nipples, but leaving little else to the imagination. The bottom was barely a ribbon in the middle with two ties on the sides. The strip disappeared into my crack, barely covered my labia, and let a few hairs poke out from my landing strip. It was perfect - with the matching semi-transparent cover-up. I then booked myself for a catamaran cruise for the afternoon that promised swimming and snorkeling on a reef several miles off the coast. At 1 PM, I showed up at the dock and was helped aboard the boat by two handsome crewmen. One, a giant who towered above me and had, perhaps, the broadest shoulders I've ever seen, introduced himself as Paul. Long, curly sun-bleached hair covered his head, and a short, stylish beard completed the look. The other, quickly introducing himself as Sam, looked almost petite by comparison, but was probably about normal height. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. The afternoon had potential. The other passengers ranged from couples in their forties to a group of young 20-somethings who were already one-sheet to the wind, so to speak. Paul and Sam were very solicitous. As I lay out on the foredeck in my new swimsuit, they quickly provided a towel, applied more lotion than absolutely necessary to my back, and offered cool drinks. As the boat moved toward the reef, I chatted with a couple from New Jersey, probably in their late forties. The woman, Janice, was a beauty: maybe 5'10", toned abs, long blond hair, and a nice if slightly saggy pair of tits. John was fairly good looking as well, though as with many men his age he had a bit of a paunch. We made small talk in the wonderful sun and breeze until we arrived at our destination. Paul and Sam helped everyone into their snorkel gear, making an extra effort to adjust my equipment. The water was delightful, the fish were beautiful and plentiful, and we even got to swim with a few harmless sharks. After an hour or so in the water, I climbed back aboard the boat and dried off. If my suit had left little to the imagination before, it left none now. After some pretty vigorous swimming, it had apparently drifted completely up into my vaginal opening, leaving my labia on either side of the narrow strip of fabric. No wonder it had felt so good! As discretely as I could, but knowing that both Paul and Sam were staring pretty intently, I adjusted myself and reclined once again on the foredeck. The two crewmen were on me in a second, offering whatever assistance or beverages they could. They were not very subtle, but I enjoyed the attention. As we approached port after a long afternoon in the sun, water, and then more sun, Sam quietly asked if I wanted to continue the tour to the neighboring harbor where they were due to pick up a group for a dinner cruise. He explained that the other docking area was about equidistant from my hotel. I knew immediately that more was being offered. Taking a hard look again at Paul and Sam, I accepted. After the other passengers disembarked, and saying a special goodbye to Janice and John, who said they hoped they would see me around the town, we sailed a half-mile or so off the coast and dropped anchor. With the boat now to ourselves, and far from prying eyes, I shed my tiny bathing suit. This was just the signal the guys needed, and they were on me in a flash - the very result I had intended. As they pulled off their uniforms, I checked them out. Both were in great shape, as I would expect of such outdoorsmen. Paul, the giant, had actually only a medium-sized cock, at least in its half-aroused state. Despite his smaller stature, Sam was actually far better endowed. I smiled, laid down on the cushions on the foredeck, and beckoned for them to join me. Sam started kissing my forehead, working his way down. Paul started at my feet, working his way up. Their hands roamed everywhere: testing, fondling, squeezing, rubbing. I reached for their now hard cocks and stroked one in each hand. Sam stopped at my breasts, licking and sucking on my sensitive nipples, causing me to moan rather loudly. Paul finally reached by pussy, sliding a couple of fingers into my dripping gash and gently kissing and licking my clit. I was all theirs, lost in their attentions, completely under their control to use as they wished. Fortunately, they seemed eager to please me, for I likely could not have denied them anything at that moment. Paul mounted me, sliding his cock into me to the hilt on the first thrust. It felt so good to be filled. Sam moved around to my face, and I eagerly sucked his now steel-like enormous prick. As I curled my legs around Paul and urged him on, I wrapped my lips around Sam, and took them both deep inside my willing body. Enjoying this overwhelming stimulation, I came relatively fast and hard. As my pussy clamped down on Paul's dick, I felt it swell within me, and spurt several large loads of cum onto my cervix. Still rippling from my orgasm, I turned around, pushed Sam onto his back, and impaled myself on his huge cock. Well lubricated with Paul's copious load, he went in easily despite his enormous girth and length. I started to ride him hard, bouncing up and down on his erect member. I wet my fingers with the fluids being squeezed out of my pussy and began rubbing my clit in earnest. I kept my fingers still, but each up-thrust drew them across my screaming clit, and each down-thrust did the same. Doubting that Sam would last that long, given I'd been sucking on his cock already, I was desperate to cum again. As we both neared orgasm, his cock felt like it got even larger - if such a thing was possible. His girth stretched my pussy to its limit, his long cock provided near constant friction as it plunged in and out of my sopping wet cunt, and I was reaching for the sky. Suddenly, starting in my toes, came a distant but all the same familiar spark that electrified every nerve in my body. As I was nearing the peak, Sam's thrusts became harder and his cock exploded within me. Given how tightly I was stretched, I felt each spurt travel down his length as the mass itself filled me to overflowing. This was all I needed and I spiraled out of control. Contraction after contraction wracked my pussy, squeezing the essence out of Sam who almost seemed to wince in pain. I collapsed onto his chest as his cock began to slowly deflate. All this while, Paul had been watching and stroking his once spent cock back to life. He looked like he needed more - and who was I to say no. I sucked him deeply into my mouth, tasting his cum and my juices together. On my knees before him, I gave him a blowjob that I knew he would not soon forget, using every trick in my book. I licked his head and up and down his shaft. I loosened my throat and took him beyond my gag reflex; breathing through his pubic hairs, I swallowed, squeezing the head of his dick as it filled my throat. As he was obviously nearing his climax, I withdrew him from my mouth and pointed his blood red dick at my breasts. He understood. With his hand now gripping mine, together we brought forth another enormous load that covered my chest, ran down my cleavage, and slowly oozed over my tits and dripped from my nipples. This is one of my favorite ways to finish a guy. With both hands, I rubbed Paul's cum into my chest and, finally, licked my palms clean. At this point, Sam pointed out the time and that they had to get to port. We gathered ourselves as best as possible and docked only a few minutes late. The dinner party was already waiting. Paul and Sam looked disheveled. I had managed to crawl back into my tiny bathing suit that was now increasingly inappropriate in the cooler evening air. My pussy was still squishing with cum. As Paul's cum dried on my chest, I looked and smelled like sex. As I disembarked, no one boarding the boat had any illusions what their crew for the evening had just been doing. I smiled as they began to board. Walking back to my hotel, my bathing suit could not absorb the liquid leaking from my vagina. Cum was slowly dripping down my thighs. I scooted through the lobby as quickly as possible to my room. Looking at the clock, I realized it was nearly 7:30. I had to meet Brandon in half an hour! A shower was certainly in order. I arrived at the lobby 10 minutes late. Despite the rush, I took great care with my appearance. For some reason, it seemed to matter a lot to me. Checking myself in the mirror before I left, I decided I looked gorgeous. Tight dress. Pushup bra that displayed my, um, assets to their fullest. A nice glow on my skin from the day's sunshine. He should be interested, I thought. Brandon was waiting patiently for me, wearing slacks and a jacket. We took a taxi to a nearby restaurant on the beach, where he had reserved a table overlooking the water and where we could just see the sun setting over the horizon. It was beautiful - and very romantic. A delicious bottle of wine was followed by perfectly prepared seafood, which I ate with gusto. After a long afternoon in the sun, and the thorough fucking I'd received, I expected to be exhausted. Instead, Brandon's attention was like water on parched soil; I flowered. The conversation flowed easily. After college, Brandon had joined the Marines, serving two terms in Iraq. He did not want to supply details, and I did not push. He enjoyed his job at the real estate development company, not least because it took him to exotic locations to identify potential properties for the firm to buy. He turned out to be several years older than I, very stable, polite, and someone that I warmed to immediately. We talked about our families, our dreams, our expectations. It was as nearly perfect as a date can be. After a slow, leisurely dinner, which I did not want to end, we decided to walk back to our hotel along the beach. We lingered along the surf, me getting my feet wet in the waves, Brandon cautiously stepping out of them as they rolled to the beach. I took his hand in mine, which he warmly grasped. As we neared the hotel, I drew closer to him, putting my arm through his. He then wrapped his arm around my waist, I did the same to his. As we stepped onto the veranda of the hotel, he leaned down and kissed me tenderly. I melted inside. Straightening up, he said he had another early morning tomorrow, and then thanked me for a wonderful evening. I was horrified. Despite my full day, I was expecting him to come with me to my room. I certainly did not expect to be left outside the lobby. I guess I pouted more than a little, which he sensed. He apologized, but said he really needed to go. As he walked away, I noticed his slight limp again. That's it, I declared. He's not perfect. I could never fall for a guy with a limp! Exhaustion then settled over me. Returning to my room, I slept fitfully. What's wrong with me, I wondered? I pulled out all my charms. I sent all the right signals. Or really, what's wrong with him? I thought he liked me. Why didn't he want to spend the night together? Day Three I woke in a bit of a funk. After coffee on my balcony, I decided I needed another massage and called down to the spa to see if Dani was available to come to my room this morning. Fortunately, she had just received a cancelation and could come up shortly. My tight muscles needed relief, or so I told myself. Dani did not disappoint. As before, she set up her table, heated her oils, and began the massage. I relaxed under her excellent hands. Again, as she began working on my front, I began to get aroused. She had to notice. As she worked on my thighs, I started to arch my pelvis, beckoning her to touch me. Finally, she turned her attention to my nether region, which was by now soaked in anticipation. Suddenly, I sat up, took her by the hand, and pulled her to my still unmade bed. Shattered Hero We kissed passionately as I unbuttoned her blouse. I slid it off her shoulders and unclasped her bra in one smooth motion. Out popped a perfect pair of big Black tits that I ached to touch, lick, and suckle. The areolas were lighter than the rest of her skin, and the nipples grew pinker as they hardened. We formed a "tittie 69," with me on top sucking and fondling her breasts as she lay on her back doing the same to mine. I was afraid I was smothering her. Breaking off, I started kissing her from her forehead down, stopping once again to worship her breasts, and then continued moving south. As I gazed upon her cleft, I noticed it was shaved completely. Indeed, other than her long braids, which reached to her waist, she did not have a hair upon her body. I inhaled her musky scent, and dove in. Spreading my legs across her head, Dani again followed suit. I felt her tongue licking my slit, as I returned the motion. I felt her kissing and licking my clit, and I did the same to her. We continued to duplicate one another's actions - rising and then pulling back, rising some more then pulling back again, like waves on the shore. I slipped first one finger into her and found her the little rubbery pad on the front of her vagina that is her g-spot. She did the same to me. I added another finger and pressed again the lips of her pussy. She again did the same. She was dripping so much juice by this time that the index finger of my other hand easily slipped into her ass. I felt her penetrate me in return. More fingers were added all around. Eventually, sensing we were each close, we simultaneously raced for a tsunami, throwing off all restraint, licking one another's clits, and fucking each other in both holes with all possible fingers. Dani peaked first, growing rigid and bellowing her pleasure. I followed a mere second latter, collapsing into orgasm and onto my dear, sweet masseuse. We turned around and held each other, kissing, tasting ourselves upon the other. Eventually, we disentangled our limbs. Dani got up, dressed, and said goodbye, kissing me once again at the door as she lugged out her table and paraphernalia. My funk was gone, but I had no real plans for the rest of the day. As I lay in bed basking in the afterglow of a wonderful cum, the phone rang. Wondering who would be calling me, I answered to hear Brandon's voice. Would I like to join him for dinner again this evening, he asked? My heart did a little leap. Echoing Sally Fields - he likes me, he really likes me! - I calmly said yes and agreed to meet in the lobby again. This time, I thought, I'm not going to let him get away. Roused from my afterglow, I went to get some lunch poolside. As I sat eating my salad, Janice from the cruise stopped by and asked if she could join me. Welcoming the company, I invited her to pull up a chair. She seemed nervous - and ordered a cocktail as soon as the waiter saw her sit down. We chatted lightly for a few minutes. When her drink arrived it did not last long, confirming for me that something was troubling her. Finally, I asked her if something was bothering her. Glancing left, right, and behind her, she then leaned toward me and lowered her voice. "John and I came on this vacation for a little excitement," she whispered in a conspiratorial voice. "Really" I responded, not knowing where this was going. Glancing back and forth once again, she explained that they had been married for nearly 20 years and, well, things had gotten a bit stale in the bedroom. I began to understand what was going on here. Janice continued that she had always had a bit of curiosity about being with another woman. John apparently wanted to try a threesome. "Would you," she hesitated, "be interested?" They had both found me very attractive yesterday on the boat tour. She had been waiting for me all morning by the pool, hoping I would show up. Since I had obviously chosen to stay on with Paul and Sam yesterday, she added, they hoped I might be open to new experiences. I paused and thought about the proposition. Janice was, as I said yesterday, stunning. John was not half-bad looking, though a little mature for my tastes. I had just made wild passionate love with another woman who I knew even less about than I did Janice. My fires were banked for the moment, but contemplating being with a couple did stir the embers. I told Janice that this was a bit out of the blue and I needed to get my mind around it. Would the two of them possibly want to join me to finish lunch? Janice called John on her phone, and he appeared almost instantly as if he had been hiding behind the nearest bush, listening to our hushed conversation - which he probably was. John called the waiter over and ordered a bottle of champagne. As the bubbly did its job, I realized that I really did like Janice and John. Although not the smoothest seduction in the world - indeed, perhaps one of the most straightforward and bluntest propositions I'd ever received - I soon warmed to them and the idea. In fact, it was their straightforward way that appealed to me. I sat closer to Janice and began to touch and rub her arm. I reached out to John and rubbed his shoulder at one of his slightly forced jokes. As they realized their fantasy might come true, they relaxed as well. What the hell, I thought. I'm here, all alone. I have nothing better to do this afternoon. One can never get enough orgasms, though I had forgotten that fact over the last year as my job consumed all my available energy. I'd already had one mind-blowing orgasm that morning with a beautiful and talented masseuse, a fact that I did not share with Janice and John. Yet, I told them that I'd be honored and pleased to join them for the afternoon. Now that I had made my decision, I was getting all excited and wet. I stopped by my room to freshen up a bit. After the morning, I had not anticipated that I might be going back to bed so soon - especially with others. I arrived at Janice and John's room a few minutes later. Janice answered the door, freshly showered and in her plush hotel robe. I could hear the shower running, and presumably John was cleaning up as well. Good, I thought. Their room was smaller than mine but nicely decorated. It seemed awkward at first, but then I thought, what the hell, I might as well get the show on the road. I turned, put my arms around Janice's neck, and kissed her straight on the lips. Our tongues were soon in each other's mouth. I removed one hand and quickly undid the tie on her robe and pushed it from her shoulders. With her now completely naked, I broke the kiss, pulled back to inspect what I was about to devour, and was pleased with what I saw. Reengaging our kiss, I gently fondled her left breast, twisting her nipple - which was surprisingly large - between my fingers. This elicited a low moan. Janice then tried to disrobe me as well, pulling my sundress over my head. She got tangled in the bra clasp, her nervousness obviously creating problems doing a simple task she herself had done literally thousands of times before. I reached behind and undid my bra, letting it drop down into my waiting hands. On seeing my glorious tits come into view, Janice gasped and then reached and held them like they were the most delicate and fragile objects in the world. Dropping my panties, I then pushed her back onto the bed and laid on top of her, kissing her lips and caressing her eager body. At this point, John came into the room and made some lame joke about starting without him, to which both Janice and I just motioned for him to join us on the bed. As he towered over us on his knees, waiting for attention, we both reached for his throbbing cock and stroked him together. I'm sure he felt like he had died and gone to heaven. I rolled onto my back and directed Janice to lick and suck my nipples. I motioned to John to approach, and I took his engorged dick into my waiting mouth. As Janice worshipped my breasts, I made love to John's hard prick. With a free hand, I pushed Janice down, and she took the hint, slowly kissing her way across my belly to my increasingly wet snatch. John straddled my chest. With his dick still in my warm mouth, he continued Janice's fondling of my tits and stimulating of my now hard nipples. Janice finally reached my gash. She was tentative at first, kissing and nibbling around the folds where my thighs joined my pelvis. Eventually, she moved to my slit and, I gather, tasted her first woman. I started to press myself onto her tongue. I wanted, no needed, more stimulation. She took the hint and settled in for a feast, which I much appreciated. Pulling John out of my mouth, I saw Janice's face between my legs and her butt in the air. Take her doggy style I urged, and he did. With each thrust, Janice was forced deeper into my cunt. Much better I thought. Yet, I began to feel like a guilty guest, not contributing my share to the party. I asked Janice to turn around; she obliged willingly, lowering herself onto my waiting mouth. An unshaven and completely natural woman, it was a small challenge finding my way through the forest, but eventually I discovered a flowing river. With Paul now dislodged from Janice, he joined her at my pussy, just as I had hoped. The two of them traded licks of me and kisses for each other, creating a great slobbering mess of pussy juice and saliva. No doubt heightened by her fantasy coming true, Janice came relatively quickly and very, very hard, rolling off me and, apparently, nearly passing out for a minute. John rose to fill the void she left, plunging his cock into my very wet pussy. This was much better, I thought, as he began to ram into me again, and again, and again. Since I was apparently the ringmaster at this circus, I moved John onto his back and mounted him. I then directly Janice to face me while straddling John's face, allowing him to lick her still super-charged pussy and play with me at the same time. She quickly got into the swing of things, kissing my lips, tweaking my nipples, and putting two fingers on either side of my erect and pleading clit. With John's dick inside me, and Janice's efforts, I was soon rushing toward what I knew would be a major orgasm. John, from what I could tell from his muffled noises, was obviously on the same course. With great coordination and little effort, I went first with a glorious pulse. My contracting pussy pushed John over the edge, and he emptied himself inside me in what I could feel was a plentiful load. As I hugged her to stay upright, John's oral activity finally set Janice off as well, for her second spine-tingling orgasm of the afternoon. As we collapsed, I straddled Janice's face and spread my pussy lips wide, letting John's load dribble into her mouth. When she had a good taste, I kissed her and we shared her husband's sperm. Looking each other in the eyes, we swallowed. Janice excused herself, and I cuddled up to John, who was grinning from ear to ear. He had felt wonderful. A good fuck, I concluded, helped along by his wife. The afternoon, I had to admit, had turned out pretty well. As I daydreamed a bit, Janice returned with a double-sided dildo already implanted into her now well lubricated sheaf. She needed John's help with the harness, she said. This was not on my list of things I planned to do today - or more accurately, on the list of things I had not planned to do. But Janice did look pretty amazing standing next to the bed with her magnificent feminine body and an eight inch dildo protruding from her cunt. I opened my arms and reached for her. She leaned into my embrace and kissed me, as John helped direct the dildo into me. Janice then proceeded to fuck me, much as her husband had done only a little while before. Although it lacked the warmth and feeling of a real cock, I must admit that the dildo had much the same effect. As I wrapped myself around Janice, mashing our tits together, she humped me with a slow, steady rhythm. The dildo was obviously moving inside of her as well. As she thrust into me, the harness must have been pressing against her clit. We were both getting off on this. As I realized through my budding haze, this must have been the core of Janice's fantasy. Not only being with a woman, but fucking one. John was, as might be expected, next to us on the bed watching the action. I reached out a hand and grabbed his growing erection and stroked him to full hardness. Taking charge once again, I turned Janice on her back, sitting her up on the pillows at the head of the bed. I then took her reverse cowgirl style, sliding the dildo back into my slit. I then directed John to stand and drew his dick, still somewhat sticky with my juices and his cum, into my mouth. As I rose on Janice's plastic cock, I swallowed John's real one. As I slid down Janice's, I withdrew from John's until only the head remained in my mouth. Up and down. Up and down. Janice was going crazy beneath me. The stimulation of the dildo in her and on her, and playing out what was obviously an important fantasy for her, was too much. She squirmed. She thrust her pelvis and pretend cock into me. She grabbed my sides and, with great effort, bent far enough forward to hold my tits as they jiggled up and down each time I slammed myself down onto her plastic cock. Meanwhile, I continued to suck, stroke, and occasionally deep throat John. This was, in fact, too much for me. My head was spinning. My body was on fire. As Janice squeezed my nipples, I soared high into the sky and released a flood all over Janice. As I continued to slide up and down her plastic cock, she exploded as well, screaming out her orgasm as it convulsed through her body. As I slowed down, I doubled my attention to John's real dick. Throwing his head back, he spewed a second load, first into my mouth, then all over my face and tits. Swallowing, I fell onto the bed and demanded that Janice clean up the mess her husband had made. We stayed where we fell. Bodies intertwined with one another. Hands wrapped around other hands, my hand grasping John's now spent member, someone's finger actually in my pussy. It was nice. We drifted off, I think, or at least I did. When I finally returned to consciousness, John and Janice had somehow moved into a spooning position. I eased myself out of bed, got dressed, and let myself out of their room. I decided that, however much I enjoyed the afternoon, I preferred not to be a third wheel on some couple's bicycle. As I wandered back to my own room, I silently wished them well in their marriage. What a day! I don't know what it was about the island, or perhaps the vacation, but I could not get enough sex. It was now six in the evening. Remembering my phone call from Brandon earlier in the day, I now regretted saying yes to both him and John and Janice. One would probably have been enough. I was a bit sore, admittedly. I drew a nice hot bath and relaxed in the tub, draining away the residues of three lovers and three orgasms in the same day. At eight, I once again joined Brandon in the lobby. Somewhat refreshed, I gave him a warm smile and a delicate kiss. He asked how my day had been, and I'm sure I blushed. "Delightful," I said as quickly as possible, and then just as quickly asked him about his, the properties they saw, when he got back, and more. I was nervous, covering up his one question with far too many in return. Fortunately, he did not seem to notice or at least to mind the diversion. Once again, we had a wonderful dinner and an engaging, interesting conversation. We did not seem to lack topics to talk about. Brandon was funny and at the same time a good listener. He wanted to know all about my job as a lawyer, my most interesting (and most boring) cases, my childhood, even my first crush - and was somewhat surprised, I think, to hear the greatly sanitized version of my affair with Professor Smith. Time flew. I was falling for this man. Rather, if I would admit it to myself, I had already fallen, hard. For the first time in forever, I could imagine a life with another person, bearing his children, growing old and senile together. Yet, when we got back to the hotel, Brandon once again kissed me good night - albeit, a much longer kiss with much more tongue - and then said he needed to go. I couldn't tell what was wrong with him. I could feel his hard-on as we wrapped our arms around each other and kissed. I gathered he found me attractive. So what was wrong? I grew a bit more bold and asked if he would come up to my room, but he only got agitated, said he really must get to sleep, and practically flew down the hallway - with his little limp. I was completely nonplused. I was pretty sure I was in love with this guy. I had not met anyone in years who engaged me, my mind, even my passions as much as Brandon. But he would not or could not make the next move. Was it me? Day Four I tossed and turned all night. Knowing that Brandon was meeting his boss at eight for another day of analyzing various properties on the island, I finally gave up, got dressed, and waited to ambush him in the hotel lobby. As he got off the elevator with his boss, I accosted him. Obviously disconcerted, Brandon introduced me to his boss, to whom I graciously said hello, using only my best manners. I then asked Brandon if I could, perhaps, have a short word with him. His boss smiled and told us to take a minute. I pulled Brandon out onto the veranda, away from the other guests enjoying their coffee in the morning air, and sat him down forcefully into a chair. "What's up," I demanded. We have the greatest time together, I declared. I've never met anyone whose company I enjoy more. I find you attractive - indeed, exceedingly attractive. I've practically thrown myself at you for the last two nights. And you flee. "What's wrong with me," I said in a harsh whisper? At this, Brandon buried his face in his hands. After a minute, he began rubbing his face, usually a sign of emotional turmoil. Finally, he looked at me and said, so quietly I could barely hear, "I told you I was in Iraq, remember?" He then poured out his story. On his second tour, his patrol was out at night. His scout stepped on an IED, killing him instantly. The blast shattered his right leg. Shrapnel flew everywhere, much of embedding itself into the same side of his body as he fell to the road. Due to the firefight that followed, he was not evacuated until the next day, and by then apparently an infection had already set in. After laying in pain for a day, thinking that he was going to die, he eventually woke up in a hospital in Germany, but without his right leg. Due to the shattered bones and the infection, they had to amputate it right above the knee. He had spent months in rehabilitation and even more in therapy. He had eventually been released and gotten his job through the Wounded Warriors program. Since the attack, he continued, he had not dated anyone. His prosthesis was good, among the best. From the outside, his limp was the only visible sign - the very limp I had chosen to focus on in my disappointment two nights before, I was immediately horrified to recall. But his leg itself, he claimed, was disgusting. Scarred. Discolored. Still ulcerated at times. He was deeply afraid that any woman who looked at him in this state would run away as fast as they could. He was damaged goods. He looked up at me, straight into my eyes, and said he too felt all the things I felt. He too was falling and perhaps had fallen for me. He had even told his boss, who knew of his problems and worries, that he might even have met the girl of his dreams. But he was afraid, he concluded, to let me see him, to touch him, for fear that I'd flee as fast as I could. Now it was my turn to fall apart emotionally. I crawled into his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. My heart burst for this man, and the trauma he'd been through. I felt incredibly guilty for my snide comments, if only to myself, about his limp. I felt even guiltier, if truth be told, about my escapades of the last few days. While he was working, I had been screwing a whole array of strangers. Shattered Hero Most important, however, I knew then and there that he was my man - and that no matter the extent of his injury, he would always be my man. I couldn't, no, wouldn't let go of him. Finally, as I started to pull myself together, he said he really had to go. We'd been talking and, for my part, crying for nearly an hour. His boss probably knew what was going on but could not be kept waiting all day. I kissed him hard on the lips. "Tonight," I said, "is mine. Come to my room at eight. No matter what." He left for work. I had a lot of planning to do. When I got back to my room, there were two phone messages. One was from Janice, asking if, perhaps, we could get together again this afternoon. The other was from Paul, saying that he and Sam did not have any scheduled tours today and he wondered if I'd like a private tour of the island. I deleted both without replying. Today was going to be expensive. So what, I reasoned. I had earned a lot of money over the last year. I had arranged this vacation on miles and hotel points, spending only pennies for the week. This evening had to go well, and whatever I felt would help would be bought without regard to price. First, I visited the hotel florist and ordered several arrangements for my room to be delivered that afternoon. I then went to the hotel chef and worked out a menu that I thought Brandon would like. Over the last three nights, he had shared his love of food and remarked on some of his favorite dishes. I didn't want anything too heavy to spoil later activities, so I arranged for broiled shrimp with mango salsa for an appetizer, a small chateaubriand for two with fresh asparagus and lemon, and a light fruit crisp for dessert. This was paired with a half bottle of the hotel's finest champagne and a classic burgundy red. The meal would be served at sunset on my balcony by a private waiter who would be invisible, discrete, and withdraw as soon as the last course was served. Finally, I went into town for some shopping of my own. Tonight needed to be special. I wanted to look as much as possible like the goddess Brandon deserved. Again, I had paid attention to his little hints about what he found attractive in a woman, and to his remarks about what he liked about my clothes from the days before. I also added a little knowledge of men in general, and a little of my own imagination. Starting with the finest lingerie store on the island, I picked out a flesh colored pushup bra that did wonders for my shape, and then a matching thong and garter belt to complete the set. Pure silk stockings completed the package. At a boutique recommended by the saleswoman at the lingerie store, I found a translucent dress with a plunging neckline, nearly sheer but with fine floral prints over the essentials. Pulling out my lingerie purchases, I tried on the entire ensemble. To my mind's eye, at least, I looked incredible, exactly as I had hoped. I felt beautiful, shapely - just where a woman wanted to be shapely, and incredibly sexy. The saleswoman was practically drooling on herself. She called over her associate, who was equally slack jawed. Aware of the effect I was having on them, I was positive they'd do me in an instant, but that's not what I was looking for today. With their help - very attentive help, I must say - I picked out a pair of shoes with four inch "fuck me" heels that completed the look I was going for. Back at the hotel, I carefully unpacked my purchases and laid them out for the evening. I took a bath, followed by a visit to the hotel spa for a facial. Noting I was there, Dani popped in to see if I wanted "anything." I passed. As the final step, I had the stylist do my hair in the natural way I always wear it and help with my makeup, a minimalist application that only accentuated my features. Returning to my room at seven, I approved that the table was set up on the balcony exactly as I had requested. The flowers had arrived and been placed appropriately. The champagne was chilling in the bucket and the red wine was decanted. All was as it should have been. I changed into my lingerie. Checking myself in the mirror, I was impressed and happy with what I saw. Several days of sun had returned to color to my skin. My makeup was perfect. The lingerie not only felt incredibly sexy, but looked amazing - if I may say so myself. I will confess that I snapped a few "selfies." I stepped into my dress and shoes at 7:45. The waiter appeared at 7:55, as planned. His eyes bulged from his head when I opened the door - exactly the effect I was hoping for. Now, I simply had to wait. My stomach was doing back flips. I couldn't remember when I had been so nervous. This was worse than waiting for the bar exam results. Finally, after a seeming eternity but precisely at 8 PM, there was a knock at the door. I took a deep breadth and opened it, my arms, and my complete heart to the most amazing man I had ever met. I pulled him to me and kissed him softly, sensuously, and longingly on his lips. "Welcome," I said, "to my room." Fortunately, he did not glance at the surroundings, but stared only at me. Looking me over from head to toe and back again, he simply replied, "You look amazing. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." I'm sure I glowed. The waiter appeared from nowhere with two flutes of champagne. "To us," I said as I raised my glass. "To you," Brandon replied. Only then did he look around. Admiring the flowers, he complemented my taste. Sitting across from him in the living area of my suite, I demurely crossed my legs, causing my dress to slide up the silk stockings. I found it sexy as hell, and from the look on Brandon's face I gathered he did as well. I began by saying I was sorry for the scene this morning, and for "outing" him on his injury and behavior. He should have told me on his own time, I said, not through a disclosure forced upon him by a crazy woman who had assaulted him in the hotel lobby. I completed my little soliloquy by apologizing for detaining him and potentially embarrassing him in front of his boss. Drawing a really deep breadth, "not that this excuses anything," I declared, "but I love you. I know its awfully soon, maybe too soon for most people, but some things I know with certainty - and this is one of them. You don't need to say anything to that. I was afraid there was something wrong between us, and I needed to know what that was. Now that I know, we can deal with it - and anything else you might not have told me yet. But without a doubt, I know I love you." At this, there was a long pause - or perhaps it only seemed like a long pause to me. Brandon stood up, took my hands, and pulled me to him once again. Kissing me softly, he whispered "I love you too, Debbi, now and forever." I melted into his arms. We enjoyed another lovely dinner together, this time outdoors on my balcony. The sunset was spectacular. The food was amazing. Each dish brought forth delighted expressions of joy from Brandon, who was astounded that I had discerned his tastes so exactly. The wine complemented the food and left a warm glow within us. After the fruit crisp appeared magically before us without the slightest hint of another human presence, we were left alone with only our thoughts, my continuing plans, and a tension you could cut with a knife. After a appropriate time for dinner to settle, I pulled Brandon to his feet and, grasping him tightly around the waist, I told him that I knew he was nervous and possibly a little scared of my reaction. I tried to assure him that, no matter what, I was his and would always stay by his side. He seemed to quiver a bit. I told him to use the bathroom first, if he wanted, and then to get completely naked and in bed. I wanted to freshen up a bit, and I would join him later. He quivered more, but I pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. He emerged shortly, and I kissed him and pointed him toward the bed. He looked scared. As I closed the bathroom door, I hoped he would be there when I returned. I slipped my dress off - it had done its work for the evening. Time for the main show, I thought. I freshened up. Checked my teeth (yes, we do that) and my makeup. I couldn't delay any longer, not that I wanted to, but the butterflies were beating their wings pretty rapidly in my belly. As I emerged, Brandon was to my relief there, in bed, with his cloths folded neatly on a nearby chair. His prosthesis, which I had not seen before, was on the floor within reach of the bed. I noted immediately from the shape under the sheet that one leg was, well, mostly missing. Brandon, on the other hand, looked at me, standing there in my new lingerie. The look in his eyes could only be described as lust - nervous lust, but lust just the same. As I stood before him, looking into his eyes, I caught a glimpse of movement under the sheet as a small tent pole began to rise. I slipped into bed, under the sheet, beside him. We kissed tenderly, with a swell of passion only true lovers can know. We caressed each other. Brandon ran his hands over my bra, pausing to feel the weight and heft of the magnificent breasts it covered. I was growing mad with desire. Before giving into my craving, however, I knew there was something more important that had to happen. Slowly, without I hoped his noticing, I drew back the sheet, uncovering both of us on the bed. Doing my best to distract him with kisses to his lips, eyelids, neck, and running my fingers through the sparse hair on his chest and over his seemingly sensitive nipples, I revealed us to each other. I rolled on top of Brandon, and then slid down his torso, beyond his legs. "No," he almost shouted as he sat upright in bed. I stared him in the eyes, and then looked down at his injured leg. It was, indeed, deeply damaged. Forcing a bit of courage into my mind, however, I leaned down and kissed the worst of the scars. I kissed the stump, where the skin had been stitched back together and had healed unevenly. I kissed the red marks, rubbed raw where the prosthesis - good as it was - fit poorly. As I did this, I felt Brandon beginning to shake. His quivering grew into near convulsions. I quickly gathered him in my arms, holding his head against my chest. Tears fell onto my breasts, rolling into my cleavage. "I love you" I repeated, and repeated, until he calmed and held me tightly. Kissing him on the lips, I repeated my new mantra, "I love you." Releasing one another, I returned to his injured leg. He looked at me, silently pleading with me not to start again. Staring him down, I started at the bottom and drew a line of kisses along the largest, longest, and meanest scar. It ran nearly to the top of his remaining leg. The pain must once upon a time been horrifying. I aimed to replace it with something different. As I neared the end of scar, I continued upwards. The emotional turmoil for Brandon must have been hard. His erection, once strong and obvious, had wilted. Reaching his penis, I took him into my mouth. Stroking him gently with my hand, and kissing him from head to base, I sucked him back to full life. Once hard, I straddled Brandon, pulled my thong to one side, and lowered myself onto him. He was not the largest man I'd ever been with. Nor the widest. Nor the longest. He was really quite average as far as size goes. But as I slid further and further onto his pole, I was overwhelmed with the sensation that this, this man, was a perfect fit. He did not last long, perhaps not more than a minute or two. I did not expect him to. After years of withholding himself for fear that women would find him repugnant, he had seed aplenty to spill. As he moaned and writhed under me, fully in the moment, I realized that sex with someone you truly love is so much more fulfilling than just sex, regardless of how big, or skilled, or varied your partner might be. As I rode him slowly, gently, I was more filled with him and by him than I ever was by any of my past lovers. In only seconds, I closed my eyes as a wonderful orgasm washed through me. Day Five We woke late the next morning. Looking at the clock, I shook Brandon awake and told him he needed to meet his boss in only a few minutes. He rolled over and took me into his arms, snuggling down into my cleavage and then kissing my nipples good morning. "Don't have to," he said. "Boss knew what was going to happen last night. Gave me the day off today." With that, I got up, did the morning ritual, and returned to bed. Brandon did the same, asking if it was alright to share my toothbrush. "Darling," I said, "that's the least intimate thing I plan to share with you today." We made love all day, never getting dressed. Brandon had a lot of making up to do, and I was only a too willing partner. We began with the missionary position, in which his repeated thrusts brought on multiple, earth shattering orgasms. We continued with a pleasing 69, during which I was rewarded with my first mouthful of his cum; I savored it, and then made him watch as I swallowed it down in one big gulp. My favorite was standing on the balcony, in full view of anyone who might be watching. I had my beach wrap on, but Brandon was wearing only his prosthetic. As I leaned on the railing, he entered me from behind at the perfect angle. His wonderful cock hit all the right places, including my g-spot. We ordered room service. We ate raspberries off each other's nipples, and Brandon first inserted a strawberry into my always sopping vagina, and then sucked it out - and continued long after we'd run out of fruit. Without lube, I wouldn't let him take my ass, but I promised him he could have me there as soon as we were prepared. I swallowed what seemed like a gallon of cum over the course of the day; Brandon must have been saving it up for years! He even came between my tits, spraying his load all over my chest. That's always a big favorite of mine - and it turns out its one of his as well. It was the most wonderful day and sex of my life. As night approached, I became melancholy. Tomorrow, Brandon needed to return to Chicago. His stay on the island was over. Having found my shattered hero, I could not bear to think of parting. Yet, he had to go. Forever After Morning arrived. The birds chirped their songs - and I hated them for it. I took a taxi to the airport with Brandon and his boss, not wanting to separate one moment sooner than necessary. At the security gate, we clung to each other like helpless idiots in love. When we finally could hold out no longer, we parted. Brandon walked away, looking back and waving about every five feet. His slight limp made him easy to follow in the crowd. I returned to the hotel where I had another two nights reserved, but my vacation was over. I called the airline and luckily got onto an earlier flight. Arriving home late that evening, my apartment seemed lonelier than ever. It was empty, despite the moving boxes still piled in every room. The next morning I went to work early. "What are you doing here," the managing partner asked as I barged into his office without an appointment. "Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?" I explained that I wanted to transfer to the Chicago office, effective immediately. "What did you do, meet some guy" he sneered? Sexist pig, I thought, as if that might be the only reason a woman would request a transfer. But, of course, he was right in this case. "Yes, as a matter of fact," I replied as politely as I could. He finally looked up at me. "Are you sure?" "I have never been more sure of anything in my life, sir," I responded. "OK" was all he said. Five days later my boxes were on a truck, I was on a plane to Chicago, and Brandon was waiting to take me home. I could not wait to hold him again, to fuck him silly, and to fulfill my promise to him - all of my promises to him.