0 comments/ 8510 views/ 0 favorites The Fantasy: Last Chapter By: gr8_4play The Fantasy Richard Hart tells a story of an older man and a younger woman who have a passionate fantasy affair. It is a "fantasy" adventure of passion and romance which is in three parts: The Meeting, The Rendezvous, and The Island. Part III: The Island The Flight Jocelyn had arrived looking very much the professional. She favored the tailored business pantsuit in a very flattering black with just the proper hint of accessories. For a casual observer she might have been on her way to a meeting in any corporate office in Atlanta. However, the careful observer would have seen the way our hands were clasped as we walked down the concourse. There was a mixture between a grip that left both our hands white from the pressure and the constant movement of our fingers which seemed insatiable with the hunger of touching each other. There was a nervous chatter of small talk as we walked. We both wanted to ask a million questions and tell each other our secret thoughts, but this was neither the time nor place for such a conversation. Jocelyn spied the woman's restroom and looked with a grim... "Gotta stop here!"" As she moved to separate I reached to hug her, not really wanting to be separated now that we were together. She whispered, "Wait here?" "Sure! Can I tend your luggage lady?" I asked pointing to the small roller bag she had carried off the plane. "Oh no . . . Important things! Don't wonder off." And she disappeared around the corner of the restroom entrance. I looked around and decided that since the traffic was relatively slow, I would just wait where I was. Surely it wouldn't take but a moment. But the moments continued and I became self-conscious of standing staring toward the entrance of the restroom. I wondered if people might think I was a pervert just standing in front of the women's restroom. I tried just walking in a casual circle without leaving the immediate area. I glanced at my watch. We were in getting close to boarding our flight and by my estimate we should just be able to get to the gate in time to walk on. Wondering what in the world had happened to Jocelyn, I turned to look at the restroom entrance and I almost didn't realize that she was just a few steps away from me. I blinked twice to clear my mind and confirm my eyes hadn't failed me. The polished business pantsuit had been replaced with a very flowery summer dress which, while it was fitted to flatter her figure, was loose and floated on her. As she walked toward me, there was no mistaking that the constraints of her bra had been removed and her breasts swayed and bobbed with her steps. I swallowed hard and said, "What happened to you?"" "I got comfortable!" I don't even think I asked how she had managed the transformation, knowing that the roller bag obviously had been brought with the necessary preparations. She slid the bag forward with the handle toward me and said, "Now you carry my bag, sir!" We walked down the concourse, but no longer hand in hand. My free arm was around her back and my hand under her arm, confirming what my eyes had told me. There were no constraints of a bra and I relished in the fullness of her emerging breast as I held her while we waked. I leaned over and whispered to her, "You're lucky there's people around." "Oh why, sir?" "Because you're driving me crazy with your boobs bouncing as we walk." "And what makes you think I'm surprised at that?" She was grinning at me with her teasing smile, daring me to make more of it than I could. We walked to the departure gate to check to check the schedule and saw that our flight was on time. As we stood looking, I let my hand side down to the swell of her hip and deliciously slide downward in an intimate touch. I was caught off guard and moved my hand forward from the back of her hip where I had thought to cup her cheek. I moved again with purpose. "You're not wearing panties?" I whispered quietly in her ear. She turned with her mouth almost in my ear and just as quietly answered, "No!" I swallowed hard. It was going to be a long flight and I was already fighting the profound stirrings of an erection. We found a seat and waiting the ten minutes for our flight. I started to lean over to ask what her plans were, but she cut me off with her quick eyes and a finger over her lips, "Shhhhh.... not now!" The call came and we stood. "Passengers for Flight 687 to Saint Martin's may begin boarding." We had talked about getting away for months and the meeting at the airport Hilton left us both wanting to just have a weekend without pressure to be together. When we began planning the convenient schedule of a "business conference" and checked, we found that the Caribbean was as cheap as a weekend at a nice hotel. Besides, Saint Martin's, or Sint Maarten, was a European island split between the French and the Dutch and unlike the American Virgin Islands, it had a nude beach that sounded deliciously naughty. We found our seats on the plane and delightfully the third seat on our side of the row was empty. We lifted the seat handles and buckled in and as the flight attendant passed by on her pre-flight check, Jocelyn asked for a blanket and pillow afraid that it might be cool and expressed an interest in taking a nap. I scowled at her. There was going to be no time for a nap. I had far too many questions in my mind that begged for answers. The whine of the engines and the takeoff precluded communicating more than what we could as we held hands and both looked at each other and smiled. Once we had made it past the two minute window of takeoff when I begin to relax figuring that the odds of just falling out of the sky are minimal, I wanted to talk. "You're driving me crazy, I guess you know." I whispered in her ear and then just because I could, I nuzzled her neck and kissed her behind her ear. "Good . . . I guess my strategy is working then" she said as she turned toward me. "Do you run around airports wearing no underwear often?" Giggling, she said, "No. But then, you are my first for a lot of things. I almost lost my nerve in the restroom. Do you know how it feels to be totally naked in an airport restroom stall?" I roared and she punched me, "Be quiet, people will wonder." "Were you really naked?" "Duahhhh" she remarked sarcastically. It's hard to take off your bra, pantyhose and panties without being!" "I'm sorry, but if you could read my mind you'd know the image that is creating for me." "Good, that's why I did it. I want you to be excited and looking at me with lust in your eyes!" she beamed. "Now what's with the blanket and pillow? You know I'm not about to let you sleep the whole trip?" "Oh no? Just watch me" She then proceeded to find her tiny airline pillow and lay her seat back. She shook the light blanket out and pulled it up and grinned. "Want to share it with me?" The Blanket I decided that whatever her plans included that I was not to be left out. I leaned my seat back to match hers and she pulled the blanket over the intervening space and my hand which had been in hers closer between us. As she turned, she shifted her hips and turned my hand. She then brought the back of my hand close into her lower tummy and my mind began to wonder just what she was up to. She pulled my hand down toward the vee of her legs and then slowly back up and I realized that there was just enough friction to cause her dress to ride up with the action. I realized that two could play this game and as she brought my hand downward again, I turned my hand, breaking free of her grasp on my fingers. Her hand found my wrist and my fingers found the bare skin of her legs below her hiked skirt. Knowing that she wore no panties, the touch of her leg was exquisite. If she didn't feel the electricity, then I surely did for us both. I lightly rubbed my finger tips against her inner leg and decided that this was going to be a long flight. This might make an interesting interlude. I could tell there was no resistance from her. She alternately pretended to be asleep and then through almost closed eyes I could see her smiling. Yet, there was no perceptible encouragement either. She didn't shift to accommodate my fingers between her legs. Since she had set the stage, it was up to me to play out the action of this, wondering if it were to be a seduction, drama, or comedy. Slowly, and I hope agonizingly for her, I lifted my fingers on her skin drawing her skirt upwards. After an eternity, I found the vee where her both legs intersected her lower belly but with the way she was posed there was lots of skin but no entrance to the deeper vee of her cleft. I knew I was dragging my fingers lightly over her freshly shaved pubic bone. She made no motion. The first drink cart started up the isle with attendants stirring people with their requests. Jocelyn stirred and then looked at me. "Thirsty?" I grinned and whispered, "Only for you!" She laughed and pulled her seat up partially and dropped the tray from the seat in front. She didn't move the blanket, though it fell from her shoulders into her lap. And she never moved my hand from its touching of her lower belly. As she let down the tray three things happened in unison. The tray came down, my hand was pressed downward now between her legs as she turned to sit forward and her legs opened. As she sat very primly waiting for her drink order, my hand was hidden under the tray and blanket and she had moved enough to offer me access to the center of her being. Lightly I turned my hand to cup her lips and found that instead of being tucked back, they were open and moist. I knew my touches hadn't gone for naught. As she asked for her drink, I let my finger lay over the full length of her cleft and as I let the tip of my finger probe her outer defenses, she coughed to cover the sudden catch in her voice. For anyone watching us, they saw two people sipping their drinks and making small talk. For those who might have been close enough, they might have heard her voice struggling to remain calm with the breathy hoarseness that might have been blamed on the flight. What no one saw was the feeling of my fingers as they moved, opening her and drawing out her wetness. The tip of my middle finger began to explore her cleft. Toward the back, bottom, of her cleft there was no mistaking the dampness that gave evidence to the deep pool of her womanhood. Wanting to intentionally go slowly, I was careful to let my movements be slight and with careful intent. I touched her wetness. With the lubrication that flowed from her I let my finger sink slowing into her, like quicksand engulfing its victim. I stopped at the first knuckle and drew back and with it came greater moistness. In a circular motion I explored the texture of her swelling lips and the velvet which lay between them. With each touch, her flesh opened and seemed not to constrict. She was like soft clay and each touch left its continuing form on her. Slowly I sank my finger into her to the middle knuckle feeling the heat and wetness of her inner being. I tried not to stare at her which I was exploring her lest anyone should discover the hidden secret which we were sharing. But as I glanced, I noticed that her eyes were closed and she was holding herself in a certain stiffness. To add to her distress at the situation, as I withdrew from her, I dragged my finger from her depths upward through her cleft. Her moisture was more than enough to deal with the friction and I found that beneath the over sheltering outer lips she was already an open channel. As I curled my finger to reach the crest of her cleft I found her already erect. Without intending to, as my finger curled, the movement caused me to "flick" the protrusion of her excitement and from deep in her throat there came an audible "eke" with an embarrassed cough to cover it. She opened her eyes and looked at me. It was a strange mixture of hostility and lust. She knew I was having my revenge on her for watching her without being able to speak or touch. She reached down with her hand, below the tray and under the blanket and grasped me by the wrist. I thought she was going to yank my hand from her to relieve the agony of her suffering. But she pulled my hand closer to herself and without visibly moving the upper part of her body, she moved to open herself even more to me. She also moved her hips against me, begging for more. I watched for a moment, thinking that the movement of her hips would be betrayed by her upper body. But she had simply laid back in her seat, looked at me with a smile and closed her eyes. As much as I wanted to draw the agony out, I found my fingers had a mind of their own. My middle finger had found her depth again but as I moved to the middle knuckle again, she moved her hips and suddenly I was buried in her to the depths that our positions would allow. I became lost in her. Swirling my finger around to feel the delicious texture that met my touch at every movement. Knowing that every movement was met by a deep twitching of her muscles in her pelvis. It became a ritual. Long slow deep strokes into her and then a drawing out and upwards to "flick" the center of her excitement. Periodically I would linger on her stiffness, caressing it and teasing it. Even when I plunged into her depths, I was careful to make sure my palm remain in contact with her. The movement of her hips grinding a sense of satisfaction from the contact. Her breathing became more shallow and I knew it was having a profound effect on her. It was a challenge to see how much pleasure I could inflict on her while wondering what would happen if her orgasm were to break out vocally. Visions of Meg Ryan from the movie "When Harry met Sally" flashed in my mind and I laughed. She looked at me, but there was no laughter. She was deep into her sexual need and there was a demanding gaze in her eyes. I was driven to find ways to increase my attention, to feed the demand to make her whole again. She was so soft and open and wet that I moved to couple my ring finger with my middle finger to open her more with each plunging thrust. Instead of finding a barrier in her tightness, my fingers were immediately lost in her depths as though she were already ahead of me, waiting on me to catch up. Some my index finger joined to assault and at last I found the tension and the stretching that I had sought. Her leg moved hard against mine and I lowered my knee. She immediately moved her leg on top of mine to allow her to spread herself open. She slumped down in her seat slightly and even though I knew her posture was uncomfortable, I knew her attention was lower than her back. It was focused at the juncture of her legs and ecstasy. The moisture from her being had pooled at the lower point of her opening and with the change of her posture the point where her cleft moved into the separation of her cheeks had disappeared and her bottom was being flooded. I moved my finger down this time to massage the wetness into her tight opening and the effect was magical. Her hand with had never left contact with my wrist when he had moved earlier released my wrist and wit a smooth movement she flattened her hand and moved it downward under my wrist until I knew her fingertips were entering her cleft. I could feel the gentle movement of her fingers on her erection. It was not familiar to my touches. There was the gentlest of movement almost in a circular movement with the slightest up and down movement. As I swirled the wetness of her fluids into her back entrance, I let my wrist lay over her hands to feel the excitement of what she was doing. I could feel that her two fingers had separated her hardness from her cleft and that her outer lips were caught in the separation of her index and little fingers and her middle and ring finger were laid in the channel either side of her swollen erection. Protruding from the center of that was the unmistakable smoothness of the center of her erotic excitement. Had I had the opportunity to loosen my erection from the awkward confines on my slacks, I think I would have exploded with that. I presume the effect was shared, for as I massaged her, I felt her stiffen and the unmistakable construction of her muscle under my finger began to a spasm. I looked at her, wondering what the visual effect of her obvious orgasm was going to be in her face and posture. Usually she is very expressive both physically and vocally at the moment of her climax. But what I saw was a very rigid posture almost in rigor and a brief fluttering of her eye lips. She again grasped my wrist and pulled me from between her legs and I could feel her clench her legs together. There were no feelings of having been bared from her inner center, but a sense of her not wanting something to escape her. I was almost like the clenching of a little girl who is holding herself to keep from going to the bathroom. A deep breath and a moving upward in her seat and then a settling over on my shoulder. Her eyes never opened but the rigidness of her body melted into a buttery feeling. With her head on my shoulder, I whispered, "You OK?" "Glorious! Now sush... Don't talk. Let me just soak in this for a moment." Not caring who might be watching in the plane, I moved my free hand to touch her exposed cheek and trail it down to her mouth. I touched to pouting fullness of her lips and leaned over to kiss her every so gently. Not so much of a kiss, I realized as a poignant touching of our lips in what was at that moment the most incredibly intimate act we had shared. We sat in that bliss long enough that the cramping of the seats became uncomfortable and my erection turned to a pointed need to relieve my bladder. The Mile-High Club I nudged Jocelyn and whispered, "I've got to go to the restroom." "Really? Me too but I hated to bother you." I hated to be curt with her, but since I had "satisfied" her needs I thought she could surely concede to mine. "Honey, I'm not standing in line." We were seated on the fourth row from the rear of the plane and a quick glance told us that there were two rear restrooms facing each other at the rear. No one else had been stirring. "Don't worry," she said, "there's room for both of us." If my physical needs weren't so demanding, I might have made a play on her words. But at that moment I was interested in her tray being put upright and the blanket being shuffled to the empty space beside us and getting to the restroom. Being a gentleman, I let her choose and took the other space. Once in, all you can do is to stand or just turn around. I felt the relief of the pressure removed and had zipped myself and was washing my hands when there was a tapping at the door. "Just a moment!" I thought some hapless soul couldn't or wouldn't read the "occupied" sign on the door. The tapping came again. Exasperated, I reached for the door with the paper towel in my hands thinking someone else must have been as needful as I had been. I flipped the latch and opened the door and Jocelyn pushed me in. The space was so confined and she was pulling the door closed behind her so that I was forced to lean back balanced precariously between standing and sitting on the commode. There was a glee in her eyes as she said, "Ever heard of the mile high club?" Before I could express the awkwardness of the situation, she had begun to unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants. As gravity took control of my slacks, she pulled my shorts down with them and the only logical thing to do was to sit down on the commode. She pulled her dress up to her waist and moved forward so that kissing the soft lower belly and the prominence above her bare cleft seemed the only natural thing to do. The Fantasy: Last Chapter Because of the situation she could not open her legs and still stand to allow me access to her warm folds at the same time. She reached for my manhood and with the lack of relief from our earlier activity and the intoxication of getting away with this forbidden liaison, my erection quickly sprang to life. She didn't wait on the foreplay, but sat down on my legs and moved forward until we both knew that I was at the right place. There was no need for her or I to reach between us and make the last adjustments for entrance, she just moved her hips and I felt myself begin to center in the flower of her womanhood. There was no slow deliberation of this sexual act. With one forceful movement she was settled on me to the depths and like a spring she began to bounce. It was as though her restraint physically needed to be matched by her activity now. Her hips and her body moving like a snake alternating between coiling and the long thrusting of the strike. She was at the right height to allow me to unbutton her dress and gain access to her breasts. I sucked each of her nipples in turn wanting them to be as fully distended in my mouth as I was buried her womanhood. I would have thought that she would have been sated from my attention to her earlier, but she seemed to crave the attention and the entrance. She began to move with almost a wildness to her, almost lifting completely off me to drop again fully and completely against me. I could feel her wetness in my own pubic hair and almost dripping down my now tightening sack. Her wildness became contagious in my own loins and in seconds I felt the hot burning rope of my ejaculation from deep down in my pelvis pulse through my manhood. I have no idea even if I was in her at the moment it started, but the fire from that match set her off too and she ground herself down against my pelvic bone until she found her release too. Both of us were panting from the release, the exercise and the thinner altitude of the airline pressure. We could only slump together and breathe and sweat until we knew we had to do something. She turned to the sink and wet a paper towel to clean herself, but with two of us she could do little more than just twist. I took the towel from her and told her to sit down on my knees and began to bathe her. The towel became sticky with the fluids so a second and third were produced. She became very passive, watching me tend to her with a little smile playing on her face. I cleaned her as best I could, knowing that without panties on, she would be leaking me for a while. I dried her and buttoned her dress and cleaned myself. Getting out of the toilet was going to be a logistical problem. She could stand straddling my legs, but I couldn't stand without her moving, and I couldn't pull up my pants until I could stand. The only real answer was for her to open the door and back out and let me fix myself. I braced for the looks of those who might be waiting in line. She was careful to stand blocking the door until she could spy out the isle and them giving me an "OK" sign she closed the door. I stood and dressed and when I opened the door a flight attendant was walking down the isle. I braced for comments, measuring my potential responses. We passed in the isle at our seats. She gave me one of those "putting you in your place" scowls, but said nothing. We cuddled in our seats without talking much until the airplane touched down in at Philipsburg in St. Martin. By now it had been a full day and was dark by the time we arrived at the hotel on the beautiful Orient Beach. We talked about going out, but what we both wanted was a nice bath, something to eat and sleep. After all, we had planned two whole days together with her out of our four-day "business trip." We showered together, enjoying the luxury of knowing that all of our desires would be adequately fulfilled without haste. I soaped her hair and the rest of her, but there was little sexual intensity. We were naked together, but with our attentions giving to just touching and being held. At one point, my erection was firm enough for her to notice it touching her as I washed her back. My touches were more of a massage than cleansing. She leaned back with both her head and her bottom and asked, "Do we need to do something about that?" It was not a passionate question. It was a compassionate question. I whispered, "No . . . We'll save it for tomorrow." Room service came as we were drying and a light supper led us to heavy sleep. It was the first time we have ever "slept" together, but it was a relaxed snuggling. I woke sometime in the night to a throbbing in my arm, only to realize that she had gone to sleep on my arm and had cut off the circulation. I moved without waking her and turned over and drifted off again. Tropical Awakenings I awoke the next morning with the sunlight glowing through the windows and with a very naked Jocelyn moving against me to seek every inch of contact that our bodies would allow. She had draped her leg over mine and I could tell that she had been awake long enough to become interested in what she was doing. The juncture of her legs were moist as she pressed her hips against my leg and as she moved she dragged her nipples against my arm. I opened one eye to look at her and her eyes twinkled as she uttered only one word, "Meow!" I laughed, "Meow?" "Pussy wants to rub against you this morning." She said. "Ummm, is pussy feeling good this morning?" I answered. She didn't reply except to kiss me and move partially over me. She slid on top of me about half way so that her wetness was now fully on top of the front of my hip and her breasts rubbed my shoulder and breastbone. Her movements were feline. It was like a cat who rubs up against you, moving without haste but never leaving contact. I was not sure, but even when she seemed to be still, there felt like a movement flowing through her body. She was obviously enjoying the fantasy of playing the cat because she now began to lick me. Long slow licks from the throbbing pulse in my neck, across my chin and face and to the side of my eye. Not caring for my morning whiskers, she almost purred, "Ummmm! Have to find somewhere that my tongue won't get whisker burned." I didn't try to move. She was obviously relishing whatever she had going in her head with this and the effects were most pleasurable. She began a long series of slow licks that seemed to simply follow her nose. I had never been licked under my arm, but the sensation was incredible. Nothing seemed to be insignificant to her attention. My arm and wrists and fingers. As she moved to lick my chest and stomach, she turned to accommodate and I decided that two could play this game. I moved slightly to allow me to like the hollow behind her knee. "Ummmmm, purrrrrrrrrr" she responded in keeping with her mood. So the bathing very much became the mimic of two cats paying attention to each others grooming. She set the pace by avoiding contact with obvious erogenous zones and I discovered that places I had only touched with my fingers could evoke a pleasured response from her when I mimic the long slow licking. It didn't take long for my morning erection to become an undeniable issue to be faced. It was a startling feeling to feel her tongue begin on my pubic bone and move slowly in a continuous broad lick up to the head of my manhood. Taking that as a signal that a boundary had been crossed, I licked her from her lower thigh up and across the cleft of her womanhood. That brought a response as she moved with catlike fluidity to straddle my head and slowly settle down against my face. I thought she would hover over me and continue the licking rhythm but she continued to move her hips downward against my face in almost a rotating fashion. I realized that she was using my face, nose and mouth to open herself and bring the greatest amount of contact with me. I licked from as far upward on her pubic bone as I could reach, back down in a broad slow stroke and as far backward as I could reach. There was a point at which it crossed my mind that my tongue would surely follow that cleft until it parted into the dividing of her cheeks and that my tongue would pass across that single place that seemed above all else to be forbidden. As I moved, my nose preceded my tongue in its travel and I decided that I would adjust my actions based on my senses. As I moved, the aroma that met my nose was a lightly floral one and it dawned on me that she had already been up and a washcloth with something fresh had passed that way before me. With the attention that she was giving my erection with her licks, I was determined that I would not louse sight of the opportunity that was presented to me. I licked the upper grove of her leg where her thigh attached back and up to where that groove was lost in the fullness of her cheek. Each time I passed over the center of her womanhood, I knew that the slickness of my salvia was being replaced with a more fluid lubricant and the texture was luxurious. I again played over the familiar territory, but as I passed over her tightness, I changed the rules and pointed my tongue and began a swirling motion moving toward the center of her tightness. I had obviously changed the rules of the whole game, for with that action the long slow licking came to an end and with a start I felt an open wetness envelope the head of my manhood. There was still the long slow movement but it was now a bobbing effect. I couldn't tell if it was her lips or tongue, only that with each movement a warm wet loose envelopment moved up and down my shaft. Mimicking this new turn of events, I opened my mouth wide and tried to make maximum contact with where I knew the keenest of her sensations were centered. I felt the hardness at the top of her cleft press into my tongue near the tip and the broad width of the base of my tongue could feel the openness of her center like the covering of a deep well. I moved my tongue to bring more contact with her hardness and I used the smooth wetness of her shaved lips to seal a vacuum and I sucked. Her lips were pulled into my mouth and I could feel them become engorged until it seemed that she existed within my mouth with my tongue parting those swollen lips and plunging to its depth into her. I knew that her depth was beyond the reach of my tongue, but the effort was with all the strength of a conviction that I could lick the very neck of her womb with my tongue. The warm envelopment of my manhood had increased until I knew that I was well toward being half way into her mouth. The bobbing continued to be slowed with each movement and as she moved lower I could feel a tightness envelope the head of my member. I realized with excitement that I was feeling the constriction of her throat and wondering how she was able to accommodate such a feat. From there my mouth never lost contact with her. Sucking and swirling, I was fascinated that each time I allowed her lips to leave the vacuum of my mouth they hung down a little farther and demanded more of the space of my mouth each time I consumed them. Her hips had long since surrendered to their natural movements and at time I realized that she was using my chin to rub her erection. I could feel her sometimes move lightly and sometimes crushing the tender hardness with a pressure that forced my mouth open and my jaw to drop back. On occasion I had to force my jaw up against her to keep her from dislocating it with the pressure of her hips. I knew when I did that she was being sand papered by my whiskers, but she didn't seem to notice. Somewhere in the warm wetness surround my erection I realized that her teeth were grazing the very bottom of my shaft and I knew that somehow she had accommodated me fully. I knew I was buried in her throat. I couldn't imagine how she could breathe with her throat so full of me, or how she avoided choking. I presumed that in the fog of her sexual passion that such sensations were lost on her at that moment. I moved my mouth upward to suck fully on her erect flesh at the parting of her cleft. Like the rest of her soft tissue, I could feel her continue to swell with the vacuum of my mouth and for a moment I felt almost male in the hardness and size of her erection. I realized that sucking her into my mouth was filling my mouth and I could feel the wetness of her lips moving back on my tongue and wondered if I could accommodate her in my throat as she was accommodating me. With both of our mouths filled I felt the quiver in her thighs on my cheeks and I knew her orgasm was exploding. Feeling the quaking movement move to center on the stiffness against my tongue, it triggered my own eruption. I knew she was forced down on me and that I should have given her some warning, but my mouth was full and her weight against me would not allow me to withdraw from her quivering flesh. As I felt the first full spray of my fluid pass through my shaft, I felt her gag reflex finally coming into play. Without intending to my hips moved upward in my own reflex as a second jet of fluid burned its way through me and I heard her cough and wretch. She felt off me and with panic I twisted to face her, seeking to at last come to her aid even as the last spasms of my loins sprayed her and the bed with what I could not control. I grabbed the sheet and wiped my fluids away from her face as she allowed me to flow from her open mouth and with my greatest concern I rubbed her face until the redness began to subside. "God, I'm so sorry. I should have pulled out" I said. Catching her breath and not talking lest she loose control of her gagging. I talked to her softly with apologies and with tears. Holding her close, she finally pushed me away to take a deep breath, coughing a bit with the sticky fluid that clung in her throat. "It's my fault. I've never taken anyone as deeply I did you. I was so lost in my orgasm, I never realized that you were so close too." I kissed her forehead and her eyes and begged her forgiveness in soft words of atonement. "Actually," she said, "I was so pleased that I could take you so deeply, I didn't even think what would happen if you climaxed. It felt like a fire hydrant was shoved down my throat." She replied with a weak smile. I went to get her a glass of water, but as I offered it to her to clear her throat, I paused and said, "Perhaps you need to just rinse your mouth?" By now she was re-gathering her faculties and her sense of humor and as she took the glass she opened her mouth wide before she drank and swirled her tongue and drank. With a weak wink she smiled, "At least I swallowed!" "Oh you!" in a tease I tousled her hair. I slapped her bottom and said, "Come on, there's breakfast and a beautiful beach and the bluest ocean I've ever seen just waiting for us." The Nude Beach We had breakfast in the open air on the balcony in our swimming suits. Mine was basically the conservative trunks that would pass for the bottom half of any college basketball player's uniform. She had come prepared with a pink checked bikini that while it wasn't scandalous, it flattered her. On the way to the beach, the doorman informed us that this was a "mixed" beach. The curving north beach was traditional and in the middle there were shops and parasailing vendors. The south end of the beach is "clothing optional" so enjoy, but don't be surprised. "Do they allow guests to join them on the south beach?" I asked to tease Jocelyn. "Ya'maan. You be comfortable 'dere" was the reply with a big grin on the black face of the doorman. Jocelyn had her sun hat and sun glasses on, but between the two I could tell that she was looking at me over the top of her glasses with a look that was a mixture of a scowl and peeked interest. We stopped under the umbrellas close to the hotel and sampled the warm salty ocean. Even on the north end of the beach there was a continental flavor as women went topless with their breasts browned and their nipples blacked from the sun swaying as they walked in the ocean or ran on the beach. After playing in the surf for a bit we lay back in the shade and I commented, "Your breasts are prettier than any of those women." "You think so?" "Absolutely... Yours are just whiter." "Hmmm, think I should take care of that whiteness huh?" I swallowed hard wondering if she were actually going to follow through. Looking at me she reached behind her with one hand and I watched the tension of the fabric that separated her breasts relax. I watched what she would do next, knowing that she can be very seductive when she desired. I noticed her eyes were fixed on mine as she shrugged a bit and the cups of fabric became slack without the fullness they had contained. Slowly she reached up and pulled the loop behind her neck up and her nipples came into full view as she with great flair tossed her top into my face. "You can't get any sun on those white things sitting in the shade," I said. I stood and reached for her hand. I caught her by surprise at my boldness and as I pulled her to her feet I noticed that she was tempted at first to shelter her naked breasts with her arms on each side. But once on her feet, she looked around and realized that the whole beach wasn't looking at us, she stood tall with her breasts thrust out, putting her sun hat on she led me down the beach in a triumphal parade which became more relaxed and flouncy the further we walked. I have no idea if she realized that we were walking south along the beach. I noticed the shops and the para-sailing booths. We stopped to watch the boats lift the sails and their cargo from the beach and head out on a wide circle of the bay. We continued to walk without making more than casual comments about the beauty and the color. We passed a low sea wall, hardly more than a foot high and no more than two steps across. We could see shops nearby across the narrow stretch of open beach. I felt that we had passed the public demarcation of the north beach and the clothing optional south beach, but there was no change in those we saw as we walked. As we approached a colorful shop, I tugged her hand and thought no woman could pass up shopping. The door was open to the breeze and the color fabrics and trinkets lined the walls and hung from the rafters. Neither of us realized that we weren't in any other shop along the beach until we turned the tight corner and saw a naked woman squatted down over a box of fabric. He stood and turned with her old breasts sagging and a beaded apron covering her lower front and she ask, "Can I help you?" We chatted a moment and she seemed genuinely friendly... European by the tone of her accent. Since Jocelyn had already become comfortable with her own breasts exposed, it really didn't seem that awkward. I finally gained the nerve to ask, "What is the etiquette for this end of the beach?" The old woman grinned, but patiently began an explanation that she had obviously given many times before. "It is clothing optional, and that means optional. Be as comfortable as you wish. Don't stare and don't take pictures. Be polite, but not overly friendly, sometimes that means that people want more than their own comfort, so don't press people to talk who don't act like they want to. There are umbrellas and lounges. Take a towel if you sit on the lounges, that's being polite." She spoke so matter of factly that it reminded me of Dr. Ruth giving sex lessons. What should have been deliciously naughty was just a matter of fact. "Ahhhh..." I began to phrase the question and then got lost. I waved my hands in a sweeping motion downward and she lifted her hand as a teacher might in a lecture. "Honey, clothing optional means there are no changing rooms. You just do what's comfortable." The Fantasy: Last Chapter There was that word comfortable again. Somehow every time I heard it, I got a little uncomfortable. But by the action and attitude of the old woman in the shop, being comfortable was what it was all about. Jocelyn looked around carefully and selected a lite and breezy piece of fabric which I presumed to be a sarong and a woven grass bag. I had put money in a water tight pouch in my trunks for the day and as I finished paying for the two items, I found Jocelyn standing naked behind me, dropping the bottoms of her bikini in the bag. She wrapped herself with the fabric which only disguised her nakedness, not covered it. She then took the bag and held it open looking at me saying, "Your turn." I was flustered. I had thought about being naked on the beach if Jocelyn was willing, but I really hadn't counted on it being quite so open. I quickly looked around for the shop keeper, but she had turned back to her unpacking. I think seeing Jocelyn, she knew I needed some privacy. I pulled off my loose shirt, slipped off my shoes and for the first time in my life pulled my pants down in a public place. I was so self conscious of being exposed that I felt as though I ought to reach down and cover myself. I looked at Jocelyn, who was laughing in derision. I decided if she could do it, so could I. I picked up my trunks and put them in the bag. Took a deep breath, took Jocelyn's hand and was ready to go. The shop keeper's voice caught us at the door. "Dearie, if you want people to stare, wear the sarong. You'll attract a lot less notice if you just get comfortable." Comfortable! I was naked as a jay bird, but it was my turn to laugh as Jocelyn looked at her sarong and reluctantly untucked it from under her arms, folded it up and dropped it into the bag. We both swallowed hard and walked out nude onto the nude beach. We walked briskly at first toward the south wanting to get into the "comfortable" crowd so that we didn't stand out as much as we thought we would. Quickly we saw people standing, and some laying on lounges and under umbrellas all as naked as we with one obvious exception. They were a bronzed tan and we both were painfully white. We saw a number of groups of men and women of every description all in their birthday suits, some of which needed ironing badly. We say young and old and I was a bit nervous at seeing some of the teenage and younger girls with their breasts just sprouting and not yet in need of shaving. The teenage boys some of whom reached puberty and their manhood attested to the hormonal stimulus and some who were not yet developed. There were young men of whom even I was impressed and old men so wrinkled and grey that you wondered if they could still "stand at attention." Women were of the same variety. Small breasted and large breasted and droopy breasted with bushy coverings and some like Jocelyn, cleanly shaved to look like the girls. The first 10 minutes was almost sensory-overload and I kept checking to make sure that I hadn't begun to exhibit the arousal that was flooding my mind. But as I looked, I knew that Jocelyn had nothing to be ashamed of in this group. She walked, looking and holding my hand tightly, with her breasts thrust high. I looked at her and she read my mind, "Don't worry you look good!" We found a spot under and umbrella, remarking that it wouldn't do for us to go home sunburned in strategic places. It would be hard to explain how your butt got burned in an indoor conference. There were others close by and a very bronzed woman lay with sunglasses hiding her eyes as though there was nothing else to hide. We saw people playing in the surf. Watched as the women's breasts and the men's manhood bobbed and flopped as they played. We watched for a while and then joined the throng in the surf and we both took note of each other's bobbing and flopping. We found our way out into the bay about chest deep and Jocelyn turned to me and hugged and we kissed. Without moving from the hug she swung her hips and her legs clamped around my waist. She moved against me and whispered, "This is such a turn on!" I was erect in an instant, but I panicked. "Jocelyn, I can't now. If I get hard now, I don't know if I can cum here. If I don't it will be embarrassing to walk back to the beach." She moved against me, wanting to sink herself onto me, but the water washed away the lubrication and all it did was to rub her. Finally she said, "OK, but I want you later." We stayed until I was no longer standing, but I know I hung longer than I had when we went into the surf. As we walked out I was worried that others might notice, but they were intent upon their own interests. As we walked back to the umbrella, Jocelyn spied the restroom facilities just back from the beach. I asked if she wanted me to come with her, she said "no" and she was off. I got comfortable and the naked bronzed woman with the sunglasses said, "You and your daughter are a cute couple." I flash, "She's not my daughter." I think it said too quickly. In that split second I realized that she could in fact have been my daughter. The knowledge of it had been there from the first meeting in the conference, but at each moment as we got involved it got buried further and further in my feelings. The bronzed woman responded, "I thought not!" Angrily I snapped, "What makes you think that?" She pulled her sunglasses down to look over the top. There is something unnerving about a woman who is looking at you across bronzed breasts and dark nipples and a bush that is fully exposed in your direction. "You aren't a student of women are you?" she said. "What do you mean?" "I mean that young woman's labia is so distended that she has spent the day in high arousal and has probably increased it while you were the water." "That's being forward don't you think?" "Just making an observation. You have been looking at my labia since you arrived and they aren't protruding. Watch your young lady when she returns." With that she pushed her sunglasses back up on her face and lay back. I wasn't sure if I was angry or fascinated, or perhaps both. I glanced up to see Jocelyn walking back almost to the umbrella and sure enough I noticed how far down her lips were distended. I squirmed and stood and as she settled under the umbrella, I told her it was my turn to visit the facilities. I was glad that I faced away from the beach on the walk to the toilet. I realized that I was at least half hard, but I rationalized that I could blame it on the need to relieve myself. I stood in the toilet and had to will myself to soften before I could relieve myself, but through it all I realized just how much more Jocelyn was like the girls on the beach and not the women. High breasted, tight skinned, and as cleanly shaven as any maiden who had never sprouted the coverings of a woman. I shook my head, the thoughts were incestuous or at least lecherous. I was a man almost twice Jocelyn's age. Old enough to have sired her. It left my head reeling. I walked back to the umbrella and saw Jocelyn with her bag waiting for me. I was relieved because I knew I was ready to go. I saw a bit of tense smile on her face and wondered if the bronze woman had spoken to her too. We walked a bit and I said, "You OK? Did that woman say something to you?" "What would she have said?" "She was very forward and nosey about us." I glanced over at Jocelyn as she didn't respond and the first thing I noticed was that she was carrying her bag in front of her. "She said something didn't she?" I quivered with anger. "Yes" Jocelyn said quietly. I shook in rage, wanting to go back and deal with that naked bronze wench who thought it her business to to speak the unspeakable? "Honey, are you OK?" I asked. "Yea, embarrassed that I was so exposed." I hugged her, but carefully. We were both naked on a nude beach, but I was now conscious of not holding her breasts to me. I realized that I had hugged my daughters in much the same way. "It's my fault because of this morning." I said. "I had no idea that it would keep you swollen all day." There was a mixture of truth and lie in my words. I knew it would cause her lips to be swollen and I had gloried in it throughout the day. But I was in free fall and my words seemed to just seem to be appropriate rather than right. I held the bag and said, "Here, let me hold the cloth while you get dressed for the walk back." It was a stupid thing to say. But she responded and with the cloth which hid nothing held up she put on her bikini bottom and her top and turned to wrap herself with the material. I quickly slipped on my trunks without worrying who might be looking and slipped on my shirt and we walked back to the hotel, holding hands but without talking. At the hotel, I offered her the shower first but she said, "No, I want to primp a bit. You go ahead and you won't have to wait on me." I pursed my lips and wanted to speak but the heart wasn't in me. I showered quickly and when I came out I asked, "Do you want to go out for supper or have it brought in?" "Let's eat here by the window?" "OK I'm going to walk down and see what really looks good before I order. Take your time." and I kissed her. I kissed her on the lips but it was a gentle kiss with no lust in it. I felt like I had exposed her to some great hurt in the words of the bronzed woman. I wandered down to the lobby. I sat on the veranda and was true to my intent. I watched and asked the recommendations and the favorites on the menu. I found the waiter and left my instructions with our room number. I walked about in a bit of a fog. I finally shook my head. "This isn't right. We've settled this! We settled it before we made love the first time!" I shook off the feeling and determined to put this aside. Supper I arrived before Jocelyn came out of the bathroom, or perhaps she had waited for me. She stepped into the room with her hair fixed and her make up and wearing only the sarong from the beach. It took my breath away. I could see her as plainly as we had been on the beach, but the material was mesmerizing. She had settled her self and played coy to my compliments but moving so that she was outlined against the large full length window facing the ocean. It took only moments for the knock on the door to announce that our meal was being served. I looked at Jocelyn to see if she was going to withdraw into the bathroom while the waiter brought the large tray into the room. She posed herself leaning against the side of the window while he brought the tray into the room and pulled the table to the place she pointed in front of the window. She seemed to have regained her footing because she grinned wickedly at me the whole time the waiter nervously set out the meal. I gave him an outrageous tip knowing that she had made him uncomfortable to tease me. At every point, Jocelyn took control of the meal and the conversation. It was lighthearted and with laughter. We even teased about the walk on the nude beach, but no mention of the bronzed woman. There was music drifting up from the lounge that was apparently becoming a disco for the evening. The beat was Caribbean and it was not the music of a dance but a pulse. Jocelyn began to move as she sat and ate. Watching her in that shimmering cloth accentuated the pointedness of her nipples and the sway of her hips. She soon stood and took my hands and said, "Dance with me." I stammered, "Jocelyn, I can't dance." Without answering she held my hands up as far as hers could reach and she moved against me, bumping me with her pelvis in tempo with the music. Soon the music did what I couldn't, moving us in what might have been called a dance. Others might have called it vertical foreplay. I could tell at a glance that her nipples were stiff under the fabric. Her eyes were a half glazed look that was concentrated on only one thing. She moved against me with an insistency. She was in control of this moment. She moved up and down me with the music and I was hard and obvious. She stepped back and danced with the movement of a woman who knew what she was doing to a man. She reached as she danced and began to unbutton my shirt. I reached for the tuck of the sarong on between her breasts, but she moved my hand with a fluid motion. Torturously, she removed my shirt and then as slowly she slipped my slacks from my hips. It was an eternity of waiting as I arrived as naked dancing before her as we had been on the beach that day. She would not come any closer to me than to let the head of my manhood rub lightly against her upper belly as she danced and the folds of the fabric caught it as she moved. Her hands caught the fabric where my erection had pulled it slightly open and each time she moved against me she held it more and more open until at last I could see the soft belly as my glistening head passed over her. My excitement from the day flooded into my loins and I knew that if we just kept moving the way we were, I would leave her dripping with my fluids from her belly. Several times I had to will myself to let the urge pass until she reached up and pulled at the tuck of the fabric and let the breeze through the window float the thin material away from her body. She moved close to me, pressing my erection between us until I knew my leaking fluids had marked both our bellies. Her nipples seemed on fire and cut into my chest as she moved them and her mouth at last demanded mine. We kissed and I was lost in her mouth. I enveloped me as it had my manhood that morning and her tongue filled my mouth as her lips had done that morning. She was in constant motion against me and I knew I couldn't last much longer. She would not move with me toward the bed, but putting her arms around my neck she raised one leg and on tip toe curved it around my hip bringing her wet center against me. I cupped her bottom and as I balanced her weight, her other leg curled up and locked around my hips. Both hands were pulling her up and without having to be centered, my erection found the opening to her depths. I was surprised that I could balance us with her moving, riding my erection up and down. She didn't seem to notice but was focused on the act of mating. She moved with the tempo of the music and in spite of my blood lust of feeling her stroke me with her wetness, I knew I couldn't keep us both standing. Without stopping, I moved us to the bed and with myself buried into her to the very fullest, I knelt with one knee and moved her onto the bed. Her legs remained locked around my hips and she thrust herself onto me even while I moved her towards the center where I could brace myself to turn my sexual attention to possessing her. My thrusting became manic as I lost all sense of timing and tempo with the music. She was mine to be possessed and I was determined to possess all over her. I could feel myself slicing into her with the slapping of my balls against her bottom. Somehow this wasn't love making, it wasn't even animal mating. It was something else a quest or a mountain to climb. I was breathing in a pant and from deep within me came the chant, "Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby." At the crescendo as I knew I was filling her with part of me claiming her marking her with my fluids. She gasped, "O Daddy!" I froze even as I continued to shoot white hot robes of my fluids into her. This was not love making, it was incest. She knew it in her heart and so did I. It was unspeakable but it was what it was. I had possessed her with the same domination of a father who deflowers his daughter. We fell on the bed beside each other panting and gasping. She started to speak and I put my hand into hers and said, "Not now this is too much to handle right now!" "You know it's not! I'm not!" "Not my baby?" I said. In a pant I said, "I know that, but right now I don't know what to think about it." She rolled over and put her finger on my lips. "No more talking now!" Somehow we drifted off into sleep and I wish I could say with was a dreamless sleep, but this thing wouldn't settle in my mind. The next day we got up and it seemed that both of us were determined not to let the issue arise. We dressed and ate and caught a cab into Philipsburg to shop. We had to be careful. There were none of the tourist treasurers to be bought and then explained when we got home to spouses that knew they were not bought at a business conference. The day was climaxed when at last we chose a set of silver ear hoops for Jocelyn. She wanted me to choose something, but I could find nothing that would do without making it a problem. I, at last, choose a coin from St. Martin's to put with in my change. It was close enough to the size of a quarter dollar that I could simply explain it as someone's mistake in making change. The evening was a lovely, polite time as we walked on the beach barefoot in the surf at sunset. At bed time after fresh showers, I opened my arm to her and she cuddled on my shoulder and for the first time since we had met, I was not consumed with the need to have her. There was a closeness that was almost mystical. The Return to Reality The early morning brought the transitions to the airport and the schedule back to reality. She had rinsed and freshened the loose skirt, but I knew that in her roll on was the business pants suit that she would change into at the Atlanta airport. It was at those the loose dress was the last, lingering vestige of our time that had disappeared. The flight brought us closer to the reality from which we escaped three days ago. There was a somber feeling and we seemed to cling to each other to ward it off. There was not much talk and no laughter. Jocelyn sat curled up to me and my arm around her shoulder. As we got closer, I knew we had to talk. "Do you know what we are doing right now?" I asked. "What do you mean?" "Look at us, the way we are sitting." A long quiet followed and then a still voice that whispered, "Can I be your little girl for just a little bit longer?" And I hugged her close and kissed her head and knew that something had changed or may be I had changed or that the bronze woman had cursed us with a dose of reality. I had never looked beyond the expectation of wanting Jocelyn. She was intoxicating and something drove me to want to possess her. Was it her youth? Was I searching for my own lost youth? I sat knowing that I would never leave my family to take her, nor would I be her prince to carry her off on a white horse. The old phrase about ships in the night haunted the recesses of my mind. She looked up at me and said, "Things have changed haven't they?" "Yes, and I don't know how." We began to talk. There was no argument because we both knew that something, somehow had changed and denying it was a useless endeavor. Somehow as we talked, we came to terms with the change and found a peace in it. The last few moments were a bonding of hearts, knowing that something had passed between us that would never be again, but that would be treasured in the secret places of our hearts. We walked off the plane and held each other. We were painfully aware that it was not two lovers who were parting, but as anyone who watched would have thought a father and daughter were bidding farewell. I hugged her and kissed the side of her face near her eye. I could taste the salty tear and knew that my own were blurry with my own tears. They were not tears of grief for a lost love, but a parting that somehow would never be reconciled. I knew she wanted to say, "Call me." But with the realization unspoken, we both knew it wouldn't happen. We would look at our cell phone and think about it. Try to justify it as just being friends. But what we had shared would never work its way into those things and to try to have more of it would only cause us to loose what we had.