Full Caribbean Moon - Sex Stories

Full Caribbean Moon

... Terri had ever seen. She stepped to the hedge, sniffed a flower. A small reptile peeked its head over the top of the wall a few inches from Terri's face, causing a shriek, a jump to her rear. Luckily, Jonathan was standing where he might catch her, hold her from falling. "It's only a lizard, it won't hurt you," he soothed. She continued to shake in his arms, he led her to a nearby bench. Together they sat on the love seat, and he asked, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," she claimed, "just a little startled. But I like having your arm around me." She calmed, melted into Jonathan's side. He felt the closeness, her warmth, smelled the luscious scent of her hair. It was a surprise to neither of them when their lips came together, tongues intermingling, exploring. Jonathan, not wishing to impose upon this married woman, broke the embrace, but she pulled him back, whispering, "Don't stop." His lips traveled to her earlobe, softly nibbling, and her hands, now wrapped around his neck, encouraged him. Soon his palms were caressing the exposed shoulders and throat, lightly stroking the soft skin. He sensed she was willing, and a finger brushed the top of her dress, traveled to the cleavage between her bosoms. She shifted slightly, and his palm was filled with her breast. A little shyly, still concerned about the wedding band she wore, he fondled her. Terri became bold, placed a hand in his lap, surrounded his penis through the fabric of his trousers, recognized his exhilaration. "Let's go ...

... to your room." "What about Will?" Jonathan had never encountered a phenomenon like this before. "It's okay," she reassured, "he wants me to be with you. Please?" Almost at a run, the impatient couple approached his room. As they crossed the threshold, Terri looked around the large room. Rich fabrics and opulent artwork decorated the apartment. She put her purse on the coffee table, took one condom out. The king size bed was considered, but she knew that was not where she wanted to be taken; something else, more exciting, should serve as their nest. Without asking for permission, she pulled the drapes back revealing a porch perhaps five feet above the sand, twenty-five yards from the ocean. Large privacy fences hemmed them in on either side, wicker furniture, including a large backless settee with high sides, garnished the patio. This, she suddenly knew, was where her ritual defloweration should occur. Together they sat on the bench, soft light washing them from the earth's satellite. Again they kissed, passionately but not hurriedly, and Jonathan's hand crept under her skirt. He reached her panties and with her full cooperation, pulled them over her knees. A hand crept over her pubis, and she willingly spread her limbs, granting this stranger access to the portal that had been closed to others for over a quarter of a century. While Jonathan was fingering her, she refused to be quiescent. His shirt was removed violently, a button flying from the threads that held it in the ...