They were living, for the time being, in the coastal town of Punta Gorda, at the Esperanza Plantation, a six acre ocean front compound. The entire plantation was at their disposal and the couple spent their days dining on fine food and drink. Each morning they walked down to the docks to watch the fish laden boats coast in from the sea. The docks were always busy. The familiar aroma of salt air and fish wafted above them. They walked among the natives, aimlessly strolling about, stopping at their leisure for fresh fish or coffee.
During the second week of their stay, Bryan woke and gazed out the open window to watch the sun rise over the Gulf of Honduras. A gentle breeze blew through his curly brown hair. Standing in boxers and a terry cloth robe, he sipped his coffee and watched in wonder at the beauty of the rising sun. Even though it was early in the morning he knew it was going to be another hot and humid day.
Cynthia was beginning to wake up and Bryan turned away from the window. He'd always woken up before her anyway, but the heat was so intense that he couldn't sleep past six thirty.
Bryan sat down on a chair to watch her. It was always the same but he took pleasure in watching his lovely girl wake up. Her head turned side to side, causing her long auburn hair to graze across her face. She then lifted her arms over her head and stretched like a cat. Finally, Cynthia opened her eyes and found him staring at her.
"Good morning," she said, smiling.
She arose from the bed and the sheets fell from her naked body. Cynthia preferred to be nude as often as the situation would allow. This was one of those times. There was no air conditioner, only a ceiling fan and the ocean breeze.
"What did you have in mind for the day?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe we could go down for breakfast."
"Marvelous idea," she said. "You go ahead. I'll be down in a few minutes."
Bryan got dressed and went down to the porch to wait. A young man in a stiffly starched white jacket spotted him and quickly brought over a tray of fruit and bread.
"Thank you," Bryan said to him. The young man nodded and disappeared. Bryan looked around for Cynthia before he loaded up his plate with pineapple and sweet bread. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. He then poured a glass of sangria and took a sip. His stomach was pleading for food and he finally decided to eat without her.
Cynthia arrived ten minutes later. She sat silently and stared at him with disapproval before she filled up a plate and started to eat. Bryan, suddenly realizing his error in etiquette immediately stood and poured her a drink.
"I was wondering how long it would take for you to show some class."
"I'm sorry," he said, laughing. "My head's not on straight this morning."
"Now why is that?" she wanted to know.
"The things you do to me at night make it hard for me to concentrate."
Cynthia saluted him with her glass. "Good save, Bryan," she said. "That's pretty quick thinking. I'll reward you later."
For the next ten minutes they ate in silence. Finally, Cynthia pushed her plate away.
"I just can't eat another thing."
"Getting full?" Bryan asked.
"You can't keep a body like mine by pigging out all the time. I don't want to look like one of those fat lazy women who sit around all day eating snack food."
"You look perfect, Cynthia," Bryan said. "You know it too."
Cynthia looked at him as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind. After a minute she said she wanted to go to the beach.
"When do you want to leave?" Bryan asked.
"As soon as you can run upstairs and get my stuff."
When they got down to the beach Cynthia removed her bikini and stood on the white sand completely nude. Bryan wasn't accustomed to nude sun bathing and was hesitant to remove his clothes.
"What are you worried about?" she chided. "This beach is private."
"I don't feel right about walking on the beach wearing nothing," he said.
"You always were the modest sort," she said, sadly. "Take your clothes off so I can see you."
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking around for any potential perverts with cameras.
"Yes," she simply said. "Do it." Reluctantly Bryan did as she instructed and afterwards was surprised that being naked on the beach wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
"That's better," she remarked. "Now, please put some oil on me so I don't burn."
"With pleasure," he said. Cynthia lay face down on a towel and Bryan took her bottle of oil and poured it on her bare back. He proceeded to rub it over her skin and gazed in delight at her flawless figure. She then turned over so that he could do her front. With his oil slicked hands he caressed her breasts and continued down her body, being extra careful not to miss any part of her perfect skin.
"Wonderful," she said. "You're making me horny."
Cynthia looked over her shoulder at Bryan, inspecting his skin.
"Let me do you," she said. "You're no fun when you burn."
They traded places and Cynthia went to work. She paid as much attention to Bryan as he had for her, gliding her hands gently over his muscular body
"You're right, Cynthia," he said. "I'm getting kind of turned on myself."
"I told you," she said as she continued to rub his naked body. "May I make a suggestion?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Of course," he replied. "Make any suggestion you like."
"Why don't we make love right here on the sand, then afterwards we can take a swim together?"
"Here?" he asked, mortified. "In public?"
"It's not public, silly," she said. "I've already told you it's a private beach. The only way we'll be spotted is by some deviant with access to a satellite."
"I don't know," he said, hesitant. "We've never done that before."
"Oh, please spare me the conservative prude act," she said, rolling her eyes. "You only live once, Bryan. Enjoy it."
A teenager like smile crossed his face. Reassured by his more than eager wife, he pulled her on top of him. Cynthia reached down and guided him into the right spot and gasped in delight as she slid down, taking him deeper. She rocked back just a little and then eased into a rhythm that she liked. With the nearby palm trees blowing in the breeze, the soothing sound of the crashing sea and the constant chatter from the gulls, they made love with passionate abandon, not simply enjoying the physical gratification but experiencing the whole atmosphere. Their oily skin, mixed with sand triggered their sensations that much more, causing them to immerse themselves in one another. There had been many times in their relationship where there had been heated moments but this one topped them all so far. Cynthia possessed a gift it seemed, a gift of turning what could have been just another mundane day at the beach into an erotic one simply by doing what she wanted and not caring what anyone else thought of her. Her sense of adventure was something that sometimes frightened her more conservative husband, but for the most part, he trusted her.
Cynthia moaned with satisfaction as Bryan's hands rested on her tanned ass. Her breasts were bouncing against his face, and when he could, he'd catch one of her nipples between his lips and pull on them. This drove Cynthia wild and she ground her pelvis harder against his.
Sweat poured from their bodies and the sun beat down on them. Bryan, forgetting his fear of being watched, increased his thrusts, going faster and harder each time, making her gasp.
"I want to feel it, Baby," she whispered in his ear. "I want to feel your sticky juice all over my hot cheeks."
Bryan, driven to the brink of lustful insanity by her words, was pushed over the edge. The milky substance poured forth from deep within him and splashed against the flesh of her bottom and continued up the length of her back. After a minute Bryan rolled over on his back, staring up at the sky, totally spent. He glanced over to where Cynthia was rubbing his liquid into her skin like it was lotion. She caught him looking at her and grinned.
"Natural lotion," she said to him. "It makes my skin soft."
"Your skin is already soft," he said. "Hot, but soft."
"You are so good, Bryan," she said, rolling over on her stomach. "I want it again."
"Now?" he asked. "I can't do it again this soon."
"I know," she said, disappointed. "You're a man. As soon as it's over you're ready to sleep. I don't even get charged up good until I've had an orgasm or two. Maybe I should find a woman to satisfy me after you're done. Women don't have to stop after one orgasm."
"You get plenty, Cynthia," he said, shrugging off her teasing remarks. "I just need to rest for a bit."
"Loser," she said, smiling. "You've always been a loser."
"And you're a slut," he said back, using the same playful manner she was. "A sex starved slut living off a trust fund."
"So?" she said. "What's wrong with that?"
"I suppose nothing is wrong with it," he said. "If you're in to that sort of thing."
"Does it bother you?" she asked.
"What, you being a slut or having a lot of money."
Cynthia laughed out loud. "Both, I guess."
"No. I knew what you were when I married you. If anyone's to blame, it's me."
They rested on the beach for a few minutes and dove into the sea. The warm water was refreshing and they swam and played like children. Diving deep into the crystal clear water they explored the reef below them, amazed at the number and variety of fish and marine life that called the reef home. Bryan came up for air, dragging Cynthia by the waist. They were kissing vigorously as they broke the plane of the water.
"I don't want to go back," he said. "I want to stay here forever."
"How about I just buy this place and we can come back whenever we like?" she suggested.
"You'd do that?" he asked.
"Sure," she said. "There's nothing wrong with having a vacation home but I don't want to live in Belize permanently."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because we'd start taking it for granted."
"I wouldn't," he stated, seemingly resolute. "I know myself better than that."
"Trust me Bryan," she said. "You'd get bored by the second month. You need constant stimulation or else you become distracted and disconnected. After a year or so you'd turn into an alcoholic, sitting in bars watching cricket games. And I would be left with no choice other than to find some other people to pleasure me."
"So you'd become a whore?" he asked.
"No," she said. "Whore's do it for the money. I do it for the pure pleasure. There's a huge difference."
Cynthia's upfront honesty often embarrassed Bryan. This was one of those times judging by his reddening cheeks.
"I'm getting hungry," he said, changing subjects. "Let's go back and get some lunch."
They left the beach and walked the half-mile back to the house where lunch was waiting for them. They feasted on black bean soup and tortillas, with a spicy local beer. Cynthia wanted to take a nap, so they went upstairs to sleep the afternoon away.
After they awoke Cynthia was in an adventurous mood.
"Bryan," she said. "Why don't we go into town tonight? I'm getting a little tired of the docks and the market."
"Okay," he said, agreeing. "What do you want to do?"
She smiled mischievously.
"I've already got something in mind."
"Oh, goody!" he said, sarcastically. "Every time you get that look on your face you are up to no good."
"Trust me," she said. "It's for you. It's a secret but you're going to love it."
"Your little games usually get us in trouble," he told her. "What've you got in mind, Cynthia? Are you going to get schizophrenic on me again?"
"Asshole!" she said, flashing anger. "I'm not a schizo." Cynthia stomped off to the bathroom and slammed the door. After a minute she opened it up and peeked out.
"Why be such a prick, Bryan?" she asked. "I'm not going to do anything to make you look like more of an ass than you do now. Just trust me."
Bryan could tell he had pushed her too far.
"I was only teasing you, girl. Don't take it so personal."
She laughed lightly, anger gone. "When have you ever known me to take anything personal?"
"Lot's of times, especially when you don't take your medicine. But let's don't dredge up the past. We'll go do this "thing" you're talking about."
They dressed and left for town, driving one of the Land Rovers belonging to the Esperanza. Bryan didn't know where they were going so he asked Cynthia to guide them.
"Just head for the center of town. It's an easy place to find."
"What are we doing?" he asked.
"We're going to have dinner," she said.
"That's the surprise?" he said, astonished.
"Do you really think I'd surprise you with a simple meal?"
"Knowing you, no," he said.
"That's what I thought," she stated. "I already tried to explain once but obviously you still don't get it." Bryan muttered under his breath as he continued to navigate the busy streets. They were nearing town now and Cynthia instructed him which way to go.
"Okay," she said, after a few minutes. "Stop at the next light and turn left." After Bryan had made the turn Cynthia spotted what she was looking for.
"There it is," she said, happily. "Stop here."
Bryan stopped the vehicle and could hardly believe his eyes. The restaurant, if it could be called that, looked like the victim of a hurricane. The green tin roof was old and rusty, and the building itself was nothing more than simple plywood, splattered with rotting plaster and painted a ghastly shade of red. The mortar foundation was cracked, which made the whole place sag to the left. The only thing that identified it as a place to eat was a wooden sign over the door that had a string of lights shaped like chili peppers surrounding it. The sign read "The Aftermath- Bar and Grill."
"You have got to be kidding me, Cynthia," he said loudly. "This place is a dump!"
"Don't be so judgmental," she scolded. "You know full well that the best food comes from places that have the appearance of a war zone. Remember Memphis?" she asked. "Besides, I know the owners and they are expecting us. I called them yesterday and they are very excited to meet you."
Bryan was still unsure but decided to trust his wife. Looking more carefully now, he noticed a subtle charm to the building. It had a red brick walkway lined on either side with palm trees, and festive lights strung around their trunks.
"Well," he said. "I certainly don't want to be an arrogant American. Let's go in."
Cynthia walked in ahead of her husband and spoke in Spanish to the host. Bryan, not knowing any Spanish at all stood silently while Cynthia announced their presence. After a moment she turned to him.
"Mr. Latoya, the owner, will seat us personally. He's under the impression that you're a VIP."
"How did he get that idea?" Bryan asked, already knowing the answer.
She smiled impishly.
"Because I told him you were."
Bryan rolled his eyes at her but didn't get angry. If it was one thing he knew about his wife it was that she loved to play games. A short dark haired man that turned out to be Mr. Latoya appeared from behind a red curtain like the Wizard of Oz and embraced Cynthia like she was his own daughter.
"Cynthia, my darling!" he exclaimed, with a snooty sounding British accent. "How good it is to see you again."
"And you as well," she said, eyes filled with warmth and friendliness.
"This is the governor, I presume?" he asked.
"Yes. Governor Blake," she said.
"A pleasure to meet you Sir," Bryan said.
"You are my guests tonight," he informed them. "Whatever you need will be provided. I hope you enjoy your evening."
He led them past the main dining room and into a dimly lit smaller one.
"Thank you so much Juan," Cynthia said to him. "I've missed this place. I dream of it often."
Juan blushed and scurried away. A minute later he was barking orders to his staff. In a flash three young natives stood by their table with a vast array of covered dishes.
"How's that for fast food?" Bryan said to Cynthia.
The couple dined on fantastic dishes of pork, chicken and fish; each with their own delicious blend of sauces and spice. Bryan was impressed at the pure quality and simplistic beauty of each item. Some had a subtle taste of lemon, while others were so infused with hot pepper that his nasal passages began to run. Considering that he was never sure which were hot and which were mild, each mouthful was an adventure in its self. There was more of the spicy beer that he drank at the plantation and he was starting to develop a serious craving for it. He put away five bottles of the exotic beverage and was starting to feel a little drunk.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Cynthia asked.
"Uh huh," he responded slowly. "But I think I've drank too much."
"Perhaps?" she said, laughing. "Honey, your eyes are glassy and you're slurring your words. You're drunk. You're a drunken dog sitting across from a stunning and classy woman. Really! I don't know why I put up with such behavior."
"You've got me on that one," he said stupidly. "I don't know why you put up with it either." Bryan chuckled to himself. He felt numb, like nothing was real.
"I don't know what they put in this stuff," he said, holding up an empty bottle. "But it is without a doubt the best beer I've ever tasted."
"I know," she said. "We'll take some home with us."
"That's a fine idea Cynthia," he stammered. "Make it happen." He snapped his fingers and Cynthia found it hilarious.
"I'll be right back," she said as she got up to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"You'll find out in a minute."
Cynthia departed and Bryan was left all alone. A young girl came in, cleared the table and wiped it clean.
"Will you need anything else this evening?" she asked.
"No," he replied. "I'm just going to sit here until my crazy wife gets back."
She smiled at him and disappeared. Just as she left Cynthia came back in wearing a tempting face.
"What are you up to, Devil?" he said through thick lips.
"Just sit and let me entertain you," she said, ignoring him.
He raised an eyebrow at her and started to say something but she put her finger to his lips and hushed him. Bryan detected music in his ears. Either he hadn't noticed it before or it was just louder now. It was a slow rhythmic beat that he couldn't identify but the beat was erotic. Cynthia started to sway with the music while he sat and watched her. As the music droned on she began to undress. Totally in tune with the beat of the drum she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor slowly. She was now wearing nothing but a black bra and panties and she gyrated like a professional dancer. She moved ever so close to Bryan, who was squirming in his seat. He was in another world now, not fully realizing if he were dreaming or not. The mixture of heat, sea breeze, alcohol and his seductive wife dancing like a common prostitute took away his ability to think rationally so he just decided to let go and embrace it. She faced him now and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Cynthia was an artist when it came to role playing. Bryan recognized it and waited to see what she was going to do.
"You know what I am?" she asked. She didn't wait for a reply. "I'm a cheap little gutter tramp, Bryan," she said softly. "I'm a nasty whore and I need to get fucked."
Cynthia knew that Bryan loved to hear her talk dirty. He wouldn't admit it, and always acted as if he were offended, but she knew; that's why she did it. She licked his ear and tugged at his crotch.
"Bryan," she whispered. "My cunt is so wet and hot. You want to lick it?"
"God!" he gasped. "That filthy language is uncalled for, Cynthia. You're too classy to talk like that."
"I'm not Cynthia?" she said. There is no Cynthia, not tonight. I am Ingrid and I'm a filthy little slut. I know your secret; that you've always wanted to fuck a whore, Bryan. Cynthia told me so. So," she said. "I am Ingrid, the whore, and I'm here to fuck you. However, first things first. Before it gets that far you've got to lick my pussy. You don't know the first thing about what it takes to pleasure me. But you'll know soon enough."
Bryan was almost speechless.
"Yes," he whispered, enthralled now by the seduction. "Please Ingrid. I've got to taste you."
"Okay," she said. "You can, but you can't touch me with anything other than your tongue."
Cynthia pulled off her bra and used it to tie Bryan's hands behind his back.
"Clever trick, Devil," he said.
"By the way," she said, ignoring his comment. "I did something earlier today."
"What?" he asked.
She bent over and whispered to him.
"I shaved it," she said. "I took a razor and shaved my pussy. Now it's all slick and bald and soaking wet."
Cynthia locked eyes with Bryan.
"You want to see how sexy I look?"
The intoxicating aroma of her sex, coastal air, and the overpowering emanation of extrinsic locale was almost too much for Bryan to process. His mind was spinning as he tried his best to contain all of the sensations, as if they were something tangible. But Cynthia, ever so clever and creative, made him believe he could taste, see, and feel every single one of them. By always being unpredictable she allowed him to grasp onto the intangibles, the untouchables, the things that could only be felt in the mind, or in dreams. She brought them out and made them real. Bryan was completely aroused now, and at the mercy of his sluttish wife.
"You shaved your vag?" he asked, astonished. "That has got to be the sexiest thing I've ever heard of."
"It feels so good too," she said, teasing him. "I played with it for an hour after I did it. I made myself cum twice; then I sucked the juice from my fingers. I love the way I taste," she said. "So sweet and sticky, like a honeydew melon. It makes me horny. You like it too don't you?"
Bryan could barely speak with her whispering such nasty things to him. She smelled so good to him. Her hair, long and full fell over his shoulders and onto his neck, tickling him and making him shudder. He wanted to scratch but with his hands tied up with her bra it was impossible.
"I love the way you taste, Ingrid," he said, playing along with her role. "Let me taste it now."
Carefully, Cynthia moved in front of Bryan, slipped out of her panties and put one of her legs up on the back of the chair, her naked vagina just inches from his face.
"Don't move," she said. "I'll come to you."
She moved slightly toward him and pushed into his face. The sensation was incredible for her and before long she was moving her hips up and down, grinding against his face, going from his chin to his nose. Bryan's tongue flickered over her swollen clit and he managed to grab hold of it with his lips, pulling it and making her scream. Cynthia was in total control of the situation, which pleased her to no small degree. Bryan was only able to use the talents of his lips and tongue but that was enough. She could feel the pressure build, rising in a crescent wave of pure joy and heat. She was there quickly, and just as she released her orgasm she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head even further into her crotch. Bryan's face was covered in her sweet sauce and she promptly licked it from his face, sending every nerve in his body a pulse of lustful electricity.
"Ingrid," he said. "If I don't fuck you soon I'm going to explode,"
"That's exactly what Ingrid wants," she said as she tugged at his zipper. Cynthia released his manhood and stroked it, teasing him until she was ready. After a few minutes of torture she took mercy on him and climbed on his lap, facing him.
"Well since I can't move I guess you're going to have to put it in," he said. Cynthia giggled.
She was very wet, and he slid in easily, his throbbing organ filling the walls of her steamy canal. She leaned into him as she rode him, breathing heavily and licking his ear.
"Oh Bryan," she gasped. "You're cock feels so good in me. Do me hard! Fuck me like the cheap and filthy whore that I am. Harder baby!" she cried.
The more she talked the faster he moved against her and now she had her arms around his shoulders, breasts heaving against his chest.
"Don't stop," she wailed. "You're going to make Ingrid cum. I'm going to cum all over your fucking cock!" Suddenly, her whole body became rigid and she came once again.
"Oh," she said, muffling her screams in his shoulder. "So good," she whispered. "You fuck me so good, Bryan." She slowed down now, in order to delay his orgasm.
"I'm going to suck you off," she said. "You can't do a thing about it because you're tied up. But Ingrid is going to suck your cock until that delicious liquid erupts from you like a volcano."
Bryan watched in stunned silence as she got off his lap and slid down between his legs. His cock was glistening with her wetness and she took it in her hand and licked the top of it very slightly, making him moan.
"That feels good doesn't it?" she asked, smiling.
"Uh huh," he managed to say.
She took him deeper now, all the way down her throat and came up slowly. She peered into his eyes as she manipulated his swollen gland, rubbing his balls with her free hand.
"Do you like the way Ingrid sucks cock?" she asked.
"Oh yes!" he groaned.
"Are you going to cum for Ingrid?" she asked.
"Yes!" he moaned. Her pace quickened and Bryan became frantic. "Oh fuck yes!" he wailed. "Suck it, Ingrid! Suck my cock. Suck it."
Cynthia licked the length of his shaft once again and Bryan, now paralyzed with tension, erupted in a thick stream of white hot liquid. Cynthia's open mouth was there to greet it. Drop after heavy drop poured into her mouth, oozing its way down her throat, some of it splashing onto her cheeks. She greedily lapped it all up, flicking her tongue back and forth, playing with his penis as if it were a chew toy.
"I love the way you taste," she said as she continued to lick him. "I could suck your cock forever."
"Feel free," he said. "You won't hear me complain."
Cynthia giggled at his remark as she stood and released his hands.
"How did you like my little performance?" she asked.
Bryan was too exhausted to say much but he did manage to tell her she had done a magnificent job. Not long after, they went back to the plantation, Cynthia behind the wheel. After arriving back at their suite the couple crashed out on the bed. Bryan was asleep almost immediately, but Cynthia, still hot and bothered, lay beside him tracing her finger over his chest, wondering what the next day would bring.
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Submitted by:
mysterymeat
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