Chapter 1
Bob Elliot unfastened his seat belt and rang for the stewardess. Jesus! he was finally on his way. Away from the office politics, away from the pressures of business and most of all away from that uptight Chairman's wife that was always going on about respectability.
But what was he thinking this shit for when he could be looking at new pussy. And to make it more interesting, Tim, his eighteen year old son was with him. He hadn't really talked to him yet, he'd met him off the Denver plane and an hour later they were off together to the Bahamas. It had been six years since he'd seen him. He'd been twelve then and a real cute kid. Now he was a man. I wonder how he does thought Bob Elliot as he looked at him appraisingly.
"What are you thinking Dad?" Luckily he was saved from answering by the arrival of the stewardess. She looked real good, her firm ass pushing up towards the ceiling as she leaned across Tim to take his order. Her ripe breasts lay before his eyes and he felt a tremor in his cock.
As she was walking off, her pert rear swaying seductively down the aisle, he was pleased to notice the bulge in his boy's pants. At least that dried-up ex-wife of his hadn't turned the kid into a momma's boy!
"Nice girl" he said to Tim. And damned if the boy didn't look embarrassed. Christ it looked as though his mother had kept him on a short rein. He was probably still a virgin! Well two weeks at the Castaways should change that. He'd heard that it was fun in the sun and nothing to stop you but exhaustion. And he was feeling fresh and fit to roar. Looking around the plane he noticed the woman with the long black hair again. She'd brushed past him in the ticket line and he couldn't help noticing what a firm, attractive body she had.
Beautiful as she was it was her hair that was really a turn-on. It was long, black and down to her ass. And he flexed his thighs slightly as he imagined her riding him. She was a sultry Lady Godiva and he wanted her. He'd tried picking her up while they were waiting to board, but she'd pretended not to hear him. There was a nice young woman with her too. Blonde, blue eyed and short hair. Probably her daughter. She might have shorter hair, but it looked like her breasts were fully developed.
Tim Elliot wondered if he should try and talk to his father about his mother. It seemed sort of strange not knowing how to talk to your own father. But he hadn't seen him for six years.
And even now Mom would have a fit if she knew that he was off with him. She thought he was going away to the mountains, a friend's family had a cabin in the Rockies. But a son needed to know his roots. And every time he'd asked about the old man at home he'd gotten nothing but short, terse replies. It seemed as though his mother never forgave her husband for demanding his conjugal rights. The one time she'd ever opened up about it she'd called him an animal! It seemed as though his mother thought sex was not nice.
And here he was seeing female flesh wherever he looked. He longed to touch it, to caress it. That young girl sitting across the aisle a few seats forward made his prick twitch every time he looked at her. Her mother had called her Michelle. That had been when Dad had tried to pick up the old lady. He imagined himself alone with her. The young girl dropping her hand to the crotch of his thin faded denims, beginning to rub around the front, dipping inside the waistband until her fingers could fondle all of his warm hard penis and scrotum. Then slowly, she took her other hand and zipped open his fly while he looked in wonder as she wormed the pants down over his buttocks and hips until his pants slid free onto the floor.
Then slowly her fingers made contact with the blunt reddened tip of his virile cock. The teenage boy's thighs started to undulate of their own volition and his breath spewed out in ragged gasps. "Excuse me dad I've got to go to the toilet." Grabbing the newspaper to hold in front of him he made his way towards the rear of the plane.
Then when he was inside and alone he could take out the long slim shaft of his penis and play with it while he imagined her nakedly rounded breasts pressing against his chest, their nipples smoldering coals burning into his youthful flesh. She whimpered delightedly and wriggled against his erection, her young body jerking and her heatedly moistened vaginal lips spreading apart in anticipation.
"Ooooooooooohh, Michelle," the boy moaned, crazy with desire for the beautiful young girl...."Oh, baby, let's fuck ... let's fuck, now!"
"Tim...?"
"Yes...."
"I suddenly have the strange desire to kiss you, love. Kiss you right in the tip of your lovely hard penis!" His right hand was going crazy now at the thought of this beautiful young girl taking his hot hard prick into her luscious mouth.
"Yes, I want to feel your wonderful prick with my lips!" And as she spoke she got to her knees before his spread-eagled legs and drew his quivering young manhood closer to her face. She rubbed it lovingly against her soft cheeks, feeling every ridge and vein pulsing against her flushed skin. "Oh I want it. I do want it."
Michelle flicked her tongue out and came in to warm, wet contact with the expanding head of his erection. Her slowly searching tongue found the tiny opening at the end and darted wetly, maddeningly into it. Then she planted warm, gentle kisses on it, beginning at the top and tracing a path down the full length of his pulsing hardness to the base, then wetly back up again to the blunt rubbery crown.
He groaned as he thought of the lewdness of the scene, his cum-filled balls nearly bursting with the passion of his arousal. Faster and faster he moved his hand up and down his engorged shaft imagining that the beautiful Michelle was taking his throbbing swollen penis into the saliva-filled cavern of her suddenly hungrily watering mouth. She would feel the blood-swollen tip of his penis battering the back of her throat as she struggled for air. Her tongue swishing with a vengeance around the rigidly heated cock sliding in and out of her mouth. And she moaned like a love-slave. And suddenly, before the naked Michelle could react, Tim pulled his burgeoning cock from between her ovaled lips and held the blunt, pulsating head about two inches from her mouth. She was unable to protest as it began spurting heated streams of his heavy semen deep into her still rounded lips like milk spewing from a cow's udder. He filled the warm, wet cavern of her welcoming mouth to the brim, and she swallowed it voraciously. He could see her trying not to lose any of the wonderfully delicious fluid. And as his cock shot out the last of his youthful seed, he wondered what his mother would think of him now.
As he walked back up the aisle to his seat he noticed how demure and pretty the young girl looked. He wondered what she'd say if he told her he'd just had the most glorious masturbation in months thinking about filling her sweet mouth with his cock.
"Well Tim, we'll be landing in a couple of hours. Why don't you try and get some sleep? We want to be fresh and ready on our first day."
Tim wasn't sure that he thought he heard a slight smirk in his father's voice. But he was too relaxed to think about it now. Anyway, the old man, not that forty was old, was already looking down the aisle. As he squeezed in front of his father to his window seat Tim looked over the heads of the seated passengers to see what his dad was staring at.
It seemed Michelle's mother was dozing off, and she was twisting and turning in her seat, trying to get comfortable. What she didn't realize was that her skirt was being pushed up by all her movement and her very shapely thighs were exposed..
Damn fine looking woman, thought Bob Elliot. Fine breasts, small tight ass, and from the way she's moving, she knows what she's got.
In fact, Rachel Thomas was in that semi-sleep state where she no longer realized where she was. The cool air from the plane's air conditioning nozzle was directing its flow across the exposed skin of her low-buttoned blouse. The refreshing stream of air made her nipples harden, and a sensual chill ran through her stomach, spreading to her thighs. She tossed and turned in her drowsy yet aroused state. In her dream she was a pregnant teenager. And then Arthur was saying how much he loved her and of course he would marry her now that she was pregnant.
As soon as Michelle was born he walked out on her. Rachel whimpered, relieving the pain and hurt of the separation.
Michelle reached over and took her mother's hand comfortingly. The young girl felt very warm and protective towards her, but only when she was asleep. When her mother was awake she was a different woman; stern, judge mental, upright-not a person to be touched. But she seemed so relaxed now, so different. The young daughter adjusted her mother's skirt being careful not to awaken her.
Rachel felt the soft touch on her skin, but in her dream she was back home in the privacy of her bedroom. She was naked, whirling about the room when she caught her reflection in the full length mirror inside the closed door. She paused momentarily and studied the image she made, eyeing herself with curiosity and detached interest.
There were no superfluous bulges, only satin-skinned flesh tinted a golden tan except for the tiger stripes of white irridescence where her swimsuit had covered her taut, high breasts, the gently sloping curls of her pussy mound and smoothly rounded buttocks.
She moved her eyes along the mirror viewing the pink rigid nipples straining outward, and the flat plane of her belly with its tiny outline of her navel. Then down further to the curly black fleeciness of her pubic hair which highlighted the pink fullness of her softly molded vaginal lips. She could even make out the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking from the crested valley of her vagina in almost child-like shyness. And then, as if suddenly shamed by her immodest voyeurism, she threw on her short white terry robe and closed the closet door.
I've got a good body, she thought in defense of her narcissistic staring. But it sure hasn't brought me any happiness. God! If only I were an old toothless hag! Or if I'd been born plain ... then I'd concentrate on my career as a reference librarian. And on being a mother.
For as long as she could remember her energy had been spent blocking groping hands and clumsy, leering passes. Then she had finally given in to Arthur and he'd made her pregnant. And his clumsy, inept lovemaking had left her entirely cold.
Or so she'd thought for about two years. Then Charles Scott came into her life. He had come up to the reference desk one day, blue-jeaned and scruffy, a disheveled stack of manuscripts under his arm, and he'd wanted some information about the erotic poets of eighteenth-century Persia.
He was so intense and yet sensitive at the same time. They had started talking, communicating so beautifully, and then he was showing her some of his own work. And it was good. Good with passion and personality. He had that poeticgift granted to so few, and she had thought, here is a man who can love ... here is a man who could fulfill the promise of my youthful dreams. He wouldn't be the rutting pig that Arthur has been.
She wanted desperately to believe it. She needed to believe it. And in her dream it seemed as though this time it was going to come true. As though this time her desires of the flesh would be transcended by the desires of her soul. She dreamed that the key to her lock was present and the secret of her being was clear.
Then she was back in the many afternoons at the small coffee shop they'd found in the old section of town. Afternoons where they had talked of art and life and laughed at the scurrying of the leaves across the dusty pavements of the street. One afternoon, they had completely lost track of time, talking until long after the library had closed. So she invited him home. They bought a bottle of red wine and sat drinking and talking until she was higher than she usually allowed herself to get.
Then they began kissing and the heated presence of a man against her body after all that time had fired her passions to an explosive level. She was aware of his throbbing excitement ... of the huge bulge in his tight faded jeans. And it was as though the cloth of his crotch gave off waves of torrid temptation to continue. And there was a tantalizing wet spot where his hardened penis was pressing its blunt tip against the cloth. The salacious sight seemed to fire her even more, making her breast ache and her nipples become jeweled rubies rubbing against her own dress.
Then suddenly the door-bell rang. It was the baby sitter bringing little Michelle home. She had fed the baby and put her to sleep. Then she and Charles were alone again, rubbing thigh against thigh, his hard cock burning into the heated mound between her legs. Charles was kissing her and his feverish hands were unzipping the back of her dress and she ... Oh God! She's sworn she'd never trust a man again, but ... OH! OHHH! ... she was arching her back to allow him to get closer.
And she felt her soft, curl-rimmed cunt lips beginning to throb, excitedly pulsing the same way they had so many years before. Shivers of unwanted sensation traveled up her spine and through her flesh, and she moaned in shameful prurience, continuing her reverie....
... Charles' hands had smoothly removed her dress and brassiere and he was suddenly squeezing and cupping the nakedness of her sensitively tingling breasts, his lips leaving her mouth to suck on her trembling nipple with a hungry desire. His other hand was still peeling the panties of her writhing hips, down past her moistened pubic hair, down her legs, while she ... Oh Lord! ... she helped kick off that last restraining garment.
Then he was tearing at his own jeans and shirt until that they were both naked. She gasped at the sight of his immensely swollen cock. It was huge, sticking up at a saucy angle, and she wanted it. And then he was rolling between her legs and on top of her, her brain seething with uncontainable passion.
Yes, she was silently begging for him to continue, to have his long hard penis fill her hungrily throbbing cunt to its fullest. She wanted him to slip between her excitedly trembling thighs and fill her belly with his thick, hotly throbbing hardness. She was ready to let a man fuck her again.
Her long black hair flailed around her moaning face, her taut nubile breasts dancing on her chest as she prepared herself for him, for the sweet forbidden taste of lusting manhood ... Charles' muscular hips pinned her squirming thighs to the sofa ... The soft black curls of her pubic hair brushing teasingly against his searching cock, tickling against it and inciting him to incoherent mumblings of crazed desire. She was wildly aroused too, and then Charles flicked his thighs forward and with one smooth motion of his hips buried all of his thickly pulsing hardness deeply in her quivering pussy.
But then he changed. The sweetness went out of him and he became full of wild, unbridled lust. His tender loving changed to a selfish fucking of her gaping cunt!
"Please, love," she whispered to him. "Fuck me slow and easy." But he couldn't, or wouldn't hear her pleas. And when he had spewed out his hot male cum far up inside her unsatisfied belly, he had dressed and left her quickly. Just walked right out on her never to return again.
The plane arrived early the next morning, local Bahama time and the limousine of the Castaway Vacation Resort was there to pick up its guests. In this case there were five of them, all women, besides the Elliots and the Thomases. The car was large but nine people beside the driver were just too many. Tim Elliot, frightened yet bold, volunteered to stay behind, suggesting that Michelle wait with him for the next trip.
She seemed worried at first, glancing at her mother as though seeking approval, but Rachel was all cool looks and calm disposition. Looking at her it was impossible to tell that she had spent such a restless night. Bob Elliot was very solicitous of her, and as he helped Rachel into the limousine, he turned and glancing over his shoulder caught his son's eyes and nodded approvingly.
"Why did your father do that?" demanded Michelle as they watched the vehicle pull away.
."Do what?" said Tim. He tried to sound innocent but he knew very well what she meant. His father was acting with him just like he was one of the boys, and he'd got the message loud and clear. This small, petite blonde, with her sharp blue eyes, pert breasts and tight little ass, looked like she was designed for fucking! And as his prick was beginning to push up against the cloth of his jeans he felt more than able to fill her needs.
And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship thought Bob Elliot angrily as he later that week watched his son walking along the beach, his firm, muscular arm draped protectively over the young girl's shoulder. They made a nice couple but id didn't do him any good with Rachel! She acted as if he didn't exist. Not that he was hurting for cunt. The resort women were practically begging him for it, particularly when he appeared on the beach in his string bikini shorts which he'd kept from his last vacation at Cannes.
But forbidden fruit was always sweeter, and it was the lone woman with the silky black mane, curvacious hips, and small waist that was turning him on. Every time he stuck his cock in some woman's cunt he was thinking of her. Every time he let them kiss his long hard prick he thought of Rachel. It was getting so that every time he thought of her he got hard!
And damn! she wasn't going to get away from him! He'd make her pay for pretending to ignore him! He knew she wanted his cock! She might think she didn't need it, but he knew ...!