Lovers sensual sex deserted island stories. ДЛЯ ПОДТВЕРЖДЕНИЯ, ЧТО ВЫ СТАРШЕ 18-ТИ, ПОЖАЛУЙСТА, АВТОРИЗИРУЙТЕСЬ ЧЕРЕЗ ВК.



Lovers sensual sex deserted island stories

Lovers sensual sex deserted island stories

Her imagination runs wild with visions of lustful escapades. Will her fantasies become reality? I was in a delicious state of bliss. The sun, high in the mid-day sky, blasted my bikini-clad body full force. I was hot, sticky, and wonderfully suspended from reality. Squinting up at the sky, all I could see was an endless dome of deep azure.

Closing my eyes against the glare of the sun, I sighed with contentment. My ears were filled with the sound of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves, a quiet beat of reggae music drifting from somewhere nearby, and the occasional squeals of children playing at the shore. I trailed a hand in the sand at my side, the fine hot grains slipping through my fingers like silk. I felt as if I was floating, all the stresses and strains of real life a distant memory here on this idyllic island in the Indian Ocean.

Even Justin seemed a million miles away, and a gazillion years ago. Dana had been right, this holiday was doing me the world of good. Even in her current hung-over state, she still looked gorgeous, with her long raven hair gathered in a messy bun on top of her head, her eyelashes thick and dark even without the aid of mascara and her perpetually pouty lips glistening with Vaseline. Go back to sleep. In comparison, I felt stocky, dowdy, and plain. On my own I was fine.

Well, kind of average. But when I was with Dana, I was lost in the shade; a couple of inches too short, my hips a little too curvy, my butt a little too big, my face a little too ordinary, my skin a little too pale. No man would ever look at me twice when Dana was standing, or lying, next to me. Which is why I was willing her to stay asleep just a little bit longer.

Sitting up slightly, I shifted onto my right side and rested on my forearm, telling myself I was just getting up for a drink. It was partly true. But I was also looking for him. Grabbing the water bottle from my canvas bag, I took a long swig. It felt good in my dry mouth, despite being warm.

Nothing stayed cool for long in this heat. As I tilted my head back and poured more liquid down my throat, I let my gaze wander along the beach. Surely today would be no different.

I felt myself moisten between the legs as I recalled bringing myself to climax with the aid of the very bottle of conveniently phallic shaped sun cream that now lay in the sand beside me. I fingered the bottle, the smooth curve, the firm plastic. I clenched my hand now, to prevent it from wandering between my legs as it so urgently wanted to. After ten years in a relationship I was finding it hard to think of myself as single, let alone of actually being with another man.

But there was nothing wrong with a little imaginary fling, and luckily, I had a very vivid imagination. That was the appeal, and what made it worth the sweaty minute bus ride over here. On the far side of the island, in a small cove nestled between two cliffs, and accessible only via a short trek through a palm grove and down some natural rocky steps, the beach was scattered with only a handful of people, those willing to make the journey.

Everyone else fought for a spot on the larger strips of sand closer to the resort. I looked again towards the direction he usually appeared from. My gaze drifted over a large group of teenagers, the source of the music, drinking beer from bottles, shouting and teasing in that adolescent way, trying to assert their confidence.

My heart sank a little. Lunchtime must be approaching, which meant it was nearly time for the bus back to the hotel. The bus only made four trips across the island every day — out at nine in the morning and back at midday, then out again at two in the afternoon and back at five. I gave in and checked the time on my phone. Not even eleven thirty yet, plenty of time, the bus stop was only a ten-minute walk away. I squinted further down the beach.

A movement caught my attention over to my left, towards a shady palm grove. A couple lay side by side in the sand. I recognized them from our hotel. Their faces were turned towards each other as they lay on their backs. Then his hand slipped lower, between her legs. His arm movement quickened, and I realized with a flush that he was inside her, probing her with his fingers.

What was going on? Sex was everywhere — it was all I could think about and now, this. I watched, fascinated, and could almost feel fingers inside me too, delving deeper and harder. It was too much for me; I was melting with desire, my body like liquid heat, my senses alight with need. I glanced back down the beach. The family was heading back towards the rocky stairs, and the teenagers were oblivious to anyone outside of their own group.

The large sunshade behind me hid me from anyone in that direction. A glimpse to my right told me Dana was still out cold. I grabbed the towel from my large beach bag and draped it over my midsection, one arm underneath, the other propping me up. My hand grazed across the hot skin of my stomach, my fingers trailing towards my bikini bottoms. I slipped my hand inside, across the mound of silky hair, and began stroking my pulsating clit in slow circles, my eyes never leaving the mutually masturbating couple.

Then my vision began to blur around the edges as electric charges radiated from my groin and my pussy throbbed, begging to be filled. My hand went deeper. I was so slippery and wet down there, so ready. I saw his face in my mind. I heard his voice, a deep growl, cum for me baby, in that exotic accent of his. I slid two fingers inside myself slowly, in and out, in and out, slick with my own juices. I rocked my hips gently in time, and the heel of my hand pressed against my screaming clit with each stroke.

I was only vaguely aware of the people around me now, shrouded in a white haze. Cum for me baby I heard again, and again, and I very nearly did. It was building, it was coming. Only this time his voice was real, not imagined, and it was coming from behind me. For a moment I was confused, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred. Then panic seized me. Shit, what the fuck? He always came from the other end of the beach!

I pulled my hand out and sat upright, looking around, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I left the towel draped across me and wiped my sticky fingers on a corner, trying to regain some composure. He walked closer, a vision straight out of my fantasy. His athletic body easily rivaled any Olympians; tall and broad, strong and powerful, sculpted but not too bulky.

He was perfect from head to toe, from his reddish brown skin to his jade green eyes. Oh, if only it had been his fingers inside me, his cock… my gazed drifted downwards. He stepped closer and set the large wicker basket of fruits down in the sand, taking out a bottle that was half filled with the juice, and handing me a paper cup.

His fingers brushed mine as he did so and I melted all over again. As he leaned over me and filled the cup with juice, I was starkly aware of how close to naked I was. My nipples stiffened with his nearness and part of me hoped he would notice. Some frivolous, wanton part of me wished my fantasy could somehow come true. He ignored her and twisted the top back onto the bottle, his understanding of English evidently limited. Now that Dana was awake, I wanted to get away from coconut man as quickly as possible, before he started drooling over my gorgeous friend and ruined all my fantasies.

Plus, we really would have to rush to make the bus. He looked down at me and smiled again, his eyes twinkling. A bubble of pleasure swelled inside at his words, at the glint in his eye.

Today he had flirted with me. While gorgeous Dana was sat beside me. I downed the pineapple juice, relishing its sweetness as it slid down my throat. We began walking briskly towards the path that would lead us to the bus stop.

She laughed and shook her head, as if it was obvious. I turned to catch one last glimpse of coconut man before we left the beach. Same again for these lovely girls.

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How To Survive On A Deserted Island



Lovers sensual sex deserted island stories

Her imagination runs wild with visions of lustful escapades. Will her fantasies become reality? I was in a delicious state of bliss.

The sun, high in the mid-day sky, blasted my bikini-clad body full force. I was hot, sticky, and wonderfully suspended from reality. Squinting up at the sky, all I could see was an endless dome of deep azure. Closing my eyes against the glare of the sun, I sighed with contentment. My ears were filled with the sound of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves, a quiet beat of reggae music drifting from somewhere nearby, and the occasional squeals of children playing at the shore.

I trailed a hand in the sand at my side, the fine hot grains slipping through my fingers like silk. I felt as if I was floating, all the stresses and strains of real life a distant memory here on this idyllic island in the Indian Ocean. Even Justin seemed a million miles away, and a gazillion years ago. Dana had been right, this holiday was doing me the world of good. Even in her current hung-over state, she still looked gorgeous, with her long raven hair gathered in a messy bun on top of her head, her eyelashes thick and dark even without the aid of mascara and her perpetually pouty lips glistening with Vaseline.

Go back to sleep. In comparison, I felt stocky, dowdy, and plain. On my own I was fine. Well, kind of average.

But when I was with Dana, I was lost in the shade; a couple of inches too short, my hips a little too curvy, my butt a little too big, my face a little too ordinary, my skin a little too pale.

No man would ever look at me twice when Dana was standing, or lying, next to me. Which is why I was willing her to stay asleep just a little bit longer. Sitting up slightly, I shifted onto my right side and rested on my forearm, telling myself I was just getting up for a drink.

It was partly true. But I was also looking for him. Grabbing the water bottle from my canvas bag, I took a long swig. It felt good in my dry mouth, despite being warm.

Nothing stayed cool for long in this heat. As I tilted my head back and poured more liquid down my throat, I let my gaze wander along the beach. Surely today would be no different. I felt myself moisten between the legs as I recalled bringing myself to climax with the aid of the very bottle of conveniently phallic shaped sun cream that now lay in the sand beside me.

I fingered the bottle, the smooth curve, the firm plastic. I clenched my hand now, to prevent it from wandering between my legs as it so urgently wanted to. After ten years in a relationship I was finding it hard to think of myself as single, let alone of actually being with another man.

But there was nothing wrong with a little imaginary fling, and luckily, I had a very vivid imagination. That was the appeal, and what made it worth the sweaty minute bus ride over here. On the far side of the island, in a small cove nestled between two cliffs, and accessible only via a short trek through a palm grove and down some natural rocky steps, the beach was scattered with only a handful of people, those willing to make the journey. Everyone else fought for a spot on the larger strips of sand closer to the resort.

I looked again towards the direction he usually appeared from. My gaze drifted over a large group of teenagers, the source of the music, drinking beer from bottles, shouting and teasing in that adolescent way, trying to assert their confidence.

My heart sank a little. Lunchtime must be approaching, which meant it was nearly time for the bus back to the hotel.

The bus only made four trips across the island every day — out at nine in the morning and back at midday, then out again at two in the afternoon and back at five.

I gave in and checked the time on my phone. Not even eleven thirty yet, plenty of time, the bus stop was only a ten-minute walk away. I squinted further down the beach.

A movement caught my attention over to my left, towards a shady palm grove. A couple lay side by side in the sand. I recognized them from our hotel. Their faces were turned towards each other as they lay on their backs. Then his hand slipped lower, between her legs. His arm movement quickened, and I realized with a flush that he was inside her, probing her with his fingers.

What was going on? Sex was everywhere — it was all I could think about and now, this. I watched, fascinated, and could almost feel fingers inside me too, delving deeper and harder.

It was too much for me; I was melting with desire, my body like liquid heat, my senses alight with need. I glanced back down the beach. The family was heading back towards the rocky stairs, and the teenagers were oblivious to anyone outside of their own group. The large sunshade behind me hid me from anyone in that direction. A glimpse to my right told me Dana was still out cold. I grabbed the towel from my large beach bag and draped it over my midsection, one arm underneath, the other propping me up.

My hand grazed across the hot skin of my stomach, my fingers trailing towards my bikini bottoms. I slipped my hand inside, across the mound of silky hair, and began stroking my pulsating clit in slow circles, my eyes never leaving the mutually masturbating couple.

Then my vision began to blur around the edges as electric charges radiated from my groin and my pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.

My hand went deeper. I was so slippery and wet down there, so ready. I saw his face in my mind. I heard his voice, a deep growl, cum for me baby, in that exotic accent of his. I slid two fingers inside myself slowly, in and out, in and out, slick with my own juices.

I rocked my hips gently in time, and the heel of my hand pressed against my screaming clit with each stroke. I was only vaguely aware of the people around me now, shrouded in a white haze.

Cum for me baby I heard again, and again, and I very nearly did. It was building, it was coming. Only this time his voice was real, not imagined, and it was coming from behind me. For a moment I was confused, the lines between fantasy and reality blurred. Then panic seized me. Shit, what the fuck? He always came from the other end of the beach! I pulled my hand out and sat upright, looking around, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I left the towel draped across me and wiped my sticky fingers on a corner, trying to regain some composure. He walked closer, a vision straight out of my fantasy. His athletic body easily rivaled any Olympians; tall and broad, strong and powerful, sculpted but not too bulky. He was perfect from head to toe, from his reddish brown skin to his jade green eyes.

Oh, if only it had been his fingers inside me, his cock… my gazed drifted downwards. He stepped closer and set the large wicker basket of fruits down in the sand, taking out a bottle that was half filled with the juice, and handing me a paper cup. His fingers brushed mine as he did so and I melted all over again. As he leaned over me and filled the cup with juice, I was starkly aware of how close to naked I was.

My nipples stiffened with his nearness and part of me hoped he would notice. Some frivolous, wanton part of me wished my fantasy could somehow come true. He ignored her and twisted the top back onto the bottle, his understanding of English evidently limited. Now that Dana was awake, I wanted to get away from coconut man as quickly as possible, before he started drooling over my gorgeous friend and ruined all my fantasies.

Plus, we really would have to rush to make the bus. He looked down at me and smiled again, his eyes twinkling. A bubble of pleasure swelled inside at his words, at the glint in his eye.

Today he had flirted with me. While gorgeous Dana was sat beside me. I downed the pineapple juice, relishing its sweetness as it slid down my throat. We began walking briskly towards the path that would lead us to the bus stop. She laughed and shook her head, as if it was obvious. I turned to catch one last glimpse of coconut man before we left the beach.

Same again for these lovely girls.

Lovers sensual sex deserted island stories

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3 Comments

  1. I rocked my hips gently in time, and the heel of my hand pressed against my screaming clit with each stroke. I put my bag back down, and pulled off my dress once again, then looked around for somewhere to hide my things, out of habit more than anything.

  2. He always came from the other end of the beach! Oh, if only it had been his fingers inside me, his cock… my gazed drifted downwards. A glimpse to my right told me Dana was still out cold.

  3. They fell to my ankles. But there was nothing wrong with a little imaginary fling, and luckily, I had a very vivid imagination. I looked over to the sea, the gently rolling waves, the light of the sun glinting off the crystal waters.

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