My adventure began 3 days ago when I flew to Jamaica and arrived at the luxurious Royal Plantation resort in Ocho Rios. Despite my excitement I had managed to sleep on the flight, so when I checked into my beautiful suite I only needed a quick nap before I was up and ready to explore. The first order of business was a visit to the on-site spa; I felt in the mood for a change. I gave my long, curly red hair a good trim and had it straightened out somewhat so that it hung elegant and wavy. I also lightened its color from its usual dark copper–red to a more playful and summery strawberry blond. Feeling like a new woman, I headed back to my suite and prepared for an afternoon on the beach.
After dressing in a floral print bikini, matching cover–up and white sandals, I admired myself in the mirror. I was in great shape for 43 thanks to good genes, regular exercise and an aversion to direct sunlight born of pale Celtic skin. At just under 5 foot 4, I was not statuesque by any means, but everyone knows that smaller women age better, and I could easily pass for early 30s. My 35 C breasts, while not as pert as they once were, had resisted gravity’s relentless tugging and were still shapely and attractive and my legs were well toned. I quickly ran a brush through my newly lightened hair before slathering my freckly skin with sun block, putting on a fashionable straw hat and sunglasses. “Let the games begin!” I said to my reflection with a grin. Time to find some holiday romance!
I strolled around the immaculate grounds, a true tropical paradise set on white sandy beaches that gave way to crystal clear turquoise water. After familiarizing myself with the layout of the resort I enjoyed a frosty margarita at an outdoor bar with a magnificent view of the beach and sea beyond. The clean sea air was cool and invigorating, almost intoxicating. Strolling out to the sand I found an empty beach chair close to a shady patch under the palm trees. I pulled it out into the sunlight and laid back as I tried to get some color into my pale Irish skin. Carefully timing my exposure I made sure I was not going to burn myself on the first day of my holiday, and I spent most of the time in the shade. Waiters in crisp white shirts and black shorts kept the drinks coming, and soon I was feeling very pleasantly buzzed. I sipped another margarita as I watched the other guests frolicking in the surf, riding rented jet skis and paragliding.
Time passed as pleasantly as I could possibly imagine; soon the sun was getting low on the horizon and my belly was rumbling. I was trying to build up a good appetite before trying one of the gourmet restaurants on site at the all-inclusive resort. I went back to my suite and changed into a little green dress after a quick shower. There was a magnificent sunset, and I decided on the outdoor restaurant since the weather was so perfect. The Terrace Restaurant was exotic and beautiful, with strings of tiny white lights festooned over the trellises and umbrellas. There was no wait and I quickly grabbed a small table with a view of the sunset. I feasted on a delicious meal of swordfish and fresh local vegetables washed down by a delightful Chardonnay. Halfway through my meal, the dinner rush arrived, and I was soon surrounded by happy, tanned couples. I felt very conspicuous dining alone, and hoped that I would not be making a habit of it.
I walked along the grounds as the sky grew dark and the hotel lights came up, watching the happy couples enjoying drinks at the many outdoor bars. It was becoming apparent to me that finding romance at the resort was a bit of a long shot. Although I received plenty of flirtatious glances, they were always the surreptitious looks of men who were with their wives or girlfriends. This place catered to happy couples looking for a romantic getaway, not singles in search of adventure. I resolve to go into town tomorrow and try my luck outside the confines of this luxurious oasis. I had one last drink at the Terrace Bar and watched the stars come out in the tropical sky before returning to my suite happy, full and more than a little tipsy. I was soon fast asleep and dreaming of tall dark strangers.
I had a nice lie in the next morning, finally rousing myself to order a shrimp omelet for breakfast by room service. I wrapped myself in a cozy bathrobe and ate breakfast on my balcony. The service was impeccable, and the breakfast delicious and mouthwatering, especially when accompanied by a tasty local hot sauce. After a decadently long shower, I put on a sexy floral dress, grabbed my Sun hat and purse and headed to the resort entrance.
I hailed a taxi outside of the lobby and asked to be taken to downtown Ocho Rios. I spent the early afternoon exploring the craft market and marveling at the friendliness of the locals. Although persistent salespeople, they were not near as pushy as I had been led to believe. I eventually found myself at the “Island Village”, an open-air shopping center that looked like Walt Disney’s idea of a rustic Jamaican village. Just in time for a late lunch I came across one of Jimmy Buffet’s “Margaritaville” restaurants. A part of me was embarrassed to be considering going to such a touristy place, but I thought I would have more than enough time for fine dining and local flavor in the days to come. Besides, Jimmy Buffet was part of the soundtrack to my college days – and I was in the mood for something familiar. After a short wait behind a family of large tourists dressed in the way only large Americans tourists dress, I was shown to a table by the bar which offered a view of the sea – which was currently dominated by an enormous cruise ship docked at the harbor. I ordered a frosty margarita from an attentive young waitress, and took in my surroundings.
The crowd here was very lively, much more boisterous than back at the resort. As I waited for my drink, my eyes scanned the tables full of tourists hoping to find some interesting looking single men. My choices here seem to fall into two categories; the drunk old–timers holding up the bar, and a group of about a dozen rowdy young men who looked like they were on a bachelor party outing. I made the mistake of glancing too long in their direction and caught the eye of one of their party, who grinned back and raised his eyebrow suggestively. I quickly looked away and studied the menu; I wasn’t in the mood for drunken frat boys. Then I saw him.
Striding towards the bar was, well, a tall dark stranger! He was at least 6 foot 5, lean, and dressed neatly in a white linen safari shirt and khaki trousers. His hair was dark and wavy, a bit on the long side and peppered with gray. He wore a closely trimmed beard, looked to be in his early 40s, and was tan and fit. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a whiskey as I watched him over the top of my menu. I was wondering what his nationality was, when suddenly I realized he was looking right at me as I was staring at him. Smiling, he gave me an almost imperceptible nod of the head and raised his whiskey ever so slightly in a salute before downing it.
My breath caught and I quickly turned back to the menu as I felt a blush bloom on my face. “Damn!” I thought to myself, “play it cool! You finally see an interesting man and you act like a flustered schoolgirl!” Just as I was getting my thoughts together and formulating a plan, I noticed two of the young men from the bachelor party were making their way around the bar, their eyes fixed on me.
“Shit!” I muttered under my breath. “Talk about bad timing!”
I buried my face in my menu, hoping the boys would get my hint and pass me by. After a few moments had passed I felt the presence of someone standing beside me. I sighed, and prepared my most gracious “thanks but no thanks” speech and looked up into the face of …the handsome stranger. Behind him the two frat boys seemed frozen in mid step, unsure of what to make of the situation.
“There you are my dear!” The tall stranger said in a sexy baritone with a hint of a Spanish accent. “I’m sorry I’m running a little bit late.”
Taken by surprise I could only manage to blink and nod.
The stranger smiled and raised an eyebrow quizzically as he glanced at the seat opposite me.
“Oh sweetheart!” I practically stuttered. “Won’t you join me?”
The tall stranger settled into the seat across from me smiling mischievously, his piercing hazel eyes fixed on mine. The two frat boys beat a hasty retreat back to the other side of the bar, as the stranger and I shared a quiet laugh.
“The most beautiful flowers attract the busiest bees.” The stranger said with a grin, before gallantly taking my hand and kissing it softly. “Miguel de Vallado, pleased to meet you.”
“Kelly Branigan.” I said, batting my eyelashes. “Pleased to meet you Senor Vallado.”
“Please, call me Miguel.” He said with a smile as he signaled to the bartender.
Our drinks soon arrive together, mine a frosty margarita and his a bottle of Negra Modello Dark. As he reached for his beer I noticed his hands were clean and well manicured; a big plus in my book. I do love a well-groomed man, and Miguel looked as if he just stepped out of a spa.
We placed our food orders, and although my heart had been set on the “Cheeseburger in Paradise”, my vanity got the better of me and I ordered a Caribbean shrimp salad while Miguel ordered the curried chicken. As the waitress left with our orders Miguel sat back in his chair and smiled at me.
“I am curious as to why such a lovely lady as you is alone in this place.” He said.
“Well, I won a week at the Grand Plantation resort on a radio call-in.” I said, as I fidgeted with my finger. “And I’m between… boyfriends.”
“I know the Grand Plantation.” Miguel said, nodding. “It is a very romantic place.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you alone in this romantic paradise?”
“I am here on business.” Miguel answered.
“Can I ask you what you do?” I said as I sipped my margarita.
“I am an… antiquities dealer.” He replied, somewhat evasive.
“Oh, like Indiana Jones?” I said with a grin
“Not quite that exciting!” He chuckled.
“Although…” Miguel said, leaning close after glancing around the room carefully, “I once barely escaped with my life from a client who was a cartel chief. He thought I was working for the CIA.”
“Were you?” I asked quietly, my eyes wide with excitement.
“I am not at liberty to say.” He said with a serious expression. “But I can tell you that there was a very exciting car chase.”
I snickered into my margarita and smiled at him coyly.
“I am…” he paused dramatically, “the most interesting man at the bar.”
I giggled girlishly. He was a charmer, and with a good sense of humor. I was well and truly smitten.
We talked and laughed and soon our food arrived. Miguel was fascinating, sexy, and a true gentleman. He was descended from minor Spanish nobility who had chosen exile after the Civil War, and he currently lived near Mexico City where he runs an antiques store specializing in medieval weapons and armor. I was definitely falling for his charms, and was beginning to hope that this would lead to more than just a holiday fling. Time seemed to fly by, and soon it was nearly 4 o’clock. Miguel glanced at his watch with a pained expression.
“I’m afraid I have a meeting with a client coming up Kelly.” He said with regret. “It was a delight meeting you.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you to Miguel.” I said, trying to hide my disappointment at his imminent departure.
“If it is not too forward of me to ask, may I meet you for dinner tonight Kelly?” Miguel asked as he took my hand in his.
“Well, I had been invited to a kegger,” I said playfully as I glanced over at the Bachelor party, “but your offer is more tempting. Yes, I’d be delighted.”
Miguel smiled and kissed my hand. “I’ll meet you in your hotel lobby at 7 o’clock.”
Heart pounding, I made my way back to the resort and took a short nap before preparing myself for the evening with the handsome Miguel. After trying every outfit I brought at least twice, I settled on a sparkly green mini–dress that clung to my body like a coat of paint and matching high heels. I made my way to the lobby quickly, not wanting to be late. I arrived with ten minutes to spare and discover Miguel was already there waiting for me. His face seemed to light up when he saw me, and I smiled nervously like a teenager meeting her prom date on the big night. Miguel approached and let out a breath of air through pursed lips as he took my hand and gracefully spun me about.
“Like the moonflower, you blossom at night Kelly.” Miguel said in his delicious Spanish accent.
Miguel looked dapper in a light khaki suit, blue shirt and dark tie; he was definitely working the James Bond/safari chic look. Stepping out of the lobby, we walked to the parking lot to his rental car, a dark green Jeep Wrangler. We drove out of Ocho Rios and headed inland, up into the hills. He drove confidently; aggressively enough to thrill me, but not so dangerously as to make me ill at ease. After about fifteen minutes of twists and turns, we pulled onto a drive, which looked like it led to an old farmhouse. I was beginning to wonder if we had made a wrong turn when I suddenly saw the sign for the restaurant and a parking lot full of fancy cars.
“Not a lot of tourists know about this place.” Miguel said, as he guided the Jeep into a parking space.
The interior of the restaurant was incredibly cozy, done up like a plantation home from the colonial period. The guests were a mixture of very well dressed tourists, and important looking Jamaicans. Miguel discreetly pointed out the minister for tourism at a table across from ours.
The meal was heavenly and everything was perfect, the ambience, the service and the food. I ordered nut–encrusted red snapper while Miguel ordered a spicy dish of a local favorite, jerked chicken, prepared with a French twist. We fed each other tidbits, and the conversation flowed wonderfully; I was completely at ease in his company.
Our next destination was a resort on the other side of Ocho Rios from where I was staying; Miguel said that a very good jazz quartet from Brazil was playing there tonight. It was exactly what an exotic jazz club should look like; dark well padded leather furniture, soft lights and candles, and a slight haze of cigarette smoke. We danced through the night as the band played a variety of Brazilian jazz standards, including my favorite Stan Getz numbers. Miguel was an excellent dancer, graceful and strong. I managed to keep up with him thanks to the ballroom dancing classes I had taken years ago. It all came back to me, and we moved together flawlessly, drawing admiring looks from the other couples. Even with heels he was almost a full head taller than me, so during the slow dances I snuggled my face against his warm and muscular chest and inhaled deeply his musky aftershave. We danced together till after midnight; I didn’t want this romantic night to end, but I was becoming sleepy. Miguel asked me for one final dance, and then we slipped away into the night.
Miguel dropped me off at my resort, and although I toyed with the idea of inviting him up for “a drink”, I didn’t want him to think I was just looking for a quick holiday fling. Although that was my original intention, I was falling hard for this elegant stranger, and felt a deep connection between us. Parking his Jeep in front of my resort, he gallantly opened my door, helped me out and kissed my hand tenderly. I felt myself blush and, taken by a sudden impulse, slipped my arms around his strong neck, stood on my tip toes and gave him a goodbye kiss with just enough tongue to let him know that I was interested in more.
He kissed me back, and like everything else that night, it was perfect. I hadn’t kissed a man with a beard since college, and it tickled delightfully. I nearly swooned in his arms as I clung to him like a vine for support.
“Kelly,” he whispered softly in my ear, “I would like to see you tomorrow. Would that be possible?”
“9 o’clock?” I asked.
Miguel gazed at me with adoring hazel eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you at 9:00 my lovely lady.”
With that he grinned, spun me and danced a few samba steps while I giggled. He kissed my hand again, bowed, and returned to his Jeep. He waved at me and I blew him a kiss as he drove off into the night. I took a deep breath and tried with little success not to look too annoyingly happy. As I walked back to my suite, I did little dance steps when I thought no one was looking. I was like a teenage girl after her first real date.
My alarm woke me from a wonderful dream at 7: 00, but my grumbling was silenced as I recalled how wonderful last night was, and anticipated how exciting today could be. I once again called room service for breakfast; it soon arrived, accompanied by a beautiful bouquet of flowers that the waiter said had been delivered early this morning. A small card attached had the following haiku;
“With bright emerald eyes
my smiling queen beguiles me,
as she claims my heart.”
As soon as the waiter left, I sighed deeply and fell back into the sheets, clutching the card to my breast with a dreamy expression on my face.
After breakfasting on the balcony again and having a quick shower, I prepared for the busy day. Not knowing what to expect today, I dressed as practically as possible in a white blouse, khakis skirt and tennis shoes. I brought my largest handbag, packed with bathing suit, towel, flip-flops and sun block. As giddy as a schoolgirl, I practically ran down to the lobby. Seeing no sign of Miguel, I stepped outside by the taxi rank and soon saw him approach in his Jeep.
Miguel was dressed in a casual khaki suit, wearing a jaunty Panama hat. He grinned at me as I clambered into the Jeep, leaning forward to give me a good morning kiss once I had settled.
“Where are we going today?” I asked, not really caring what the answer would be.
“Today my lovely Kelly, we shall escape the luxurious confines of Ocho Rios and explore a bit of the real Jamaica.” He said with a smile as he pulled away from the hotel.
Heading southeast, we headed for the Blue Mountains, an area famous for its coffee. His jeep was the ideal vehicle for the day’s excursion, as the roads were rather primitive and treacherous. The views, however, were tremendous and the land lush and green.
About halfway to our destination Miguel stopped when we encountered a broken down van, which had been serving as a public bus. After talking with the driver and examining the engine, he decided there was nothing we could do to repair it, so we ended up squeezing four elderly locals who were headed into the mountains into the back of the Jeep. They were soon chatting to us happily, although I only understood about half of what they were saying, their accents were so thick. I smiled at Miguel and briefly took his hand. It spoke well of his character that he was helping these people instead of selfishly just passing by. After playing taxi, we arrived at our destination; a rambling old coffee plantation high in the mountains. After enjoying the spectacular view from their parking lot, I bought several small bags of coffee as gifts for my friends back home in the gift shop.
Returning to the coast from our journey to the high country, Miguel drove us Westward to a public beach to the east of Ocho Rios. A weathered old bandstand stood in the middle of a grassy park where a group of locals was playing reggae. Young people danced, the older folk sat on blankets and children ran squealing across the green. Miguel parked near the water and led me to a ramshackle recreational vehicle that had been turned into a mobile restaurant serving local favorites like jerked chicken and pork. Sitting on a picnic table in the shade of a large umbrella, we feasted on the local delicacies, drank Red Stripe beer and watched the locals dance. We eventually joined them, dancing together on the beach as the band played classic Bob Marley covers.
After the band had finished their set, Miguel suggested we change into our swimwear. He pulled a canvas bag filled with snorkeling gear from the Jeep and led me by the hand to a nearby jetty were several old boats were tied up. He negotiated with one of the fishermen who agreed to take us to a nearby reef that was off the tourist trail. We spent nearly an hour and a half swimming together through a wonderland of beautiful coral and breathtaking sea creatures, including an amazingly delicate cucumber–shaped jellyfish that seemed to be made of blown glass.
Returning to shore, we frolicked on the beach and cuddled in the shade of a palm tree before returning to the green square where the music was playing again. As we slow danced, Miguel asked me if I would join him for a very special dinner tonight. I of course agreed, and he said he would send a car for me at 5:30 and meet me at our destination as he had some business to deal with in the late afternoon.
Miguel dropped me off at my resort at about 3:30, and I was more than ready for a little cat–nap after our excursion. After a brief snooze, I showered and dressed for the evening in an elegant black dress that came down to mid thigh, and matching pumps. Feeling naughty, I decided to forgo underwear – I had a feeling tonight was the night; the game was nearing its completion. After putting on a touch of makeup, I collected my purse and headed down to the lobby.
A young man in a chauffeur’s uniform approached me and asked for me by name. I smiled and followed him out the lobby doors where a white limousine waited. After helping me into the back, the chauffeur took his place and began driving east along the coast. After a short journey of perhaps fifteen minutes we turned onto a dirt road headed toward the sea. I was wondering what sort of exotic restaurant Miguel had found this time when the driver pulled up and stopped next to a gap in a thick hedge that was closed by a chain-link gate. The driver got out and opened my door, then unlocked the gate with a large key.
“Mr. Vallado , he say for me to give you dis.” The driver said as he passed me a note.
Somewhat confused, I thanked the driver and read the note which said; “Welcome to the private beach of my friend Oscar. I am running a tiny bit late, so feel free to dip your lovely toes in the sea near the gate, and I will join you very shortly. M. V.”
More than a little puzzled by this strange rendezvous location – I couldn’t see anything that looked like a restaurant nearby – I nevertheless went through the gate, took off my high heels and walked onto a sand dune to admire the view of the sea. The sky was partly cloudy, and just starting to turn orange as the sun crept toward the horizon. It had the makings of a beautiful tropical sunset. I walked down across the warm sand and into the surf, cooling my toes in the Caribbean.
I stood there on the beach smiling happily to myself as my mind recalled the whirlwind romance of the past two days. A tropical breeze lifted strands of my strawberry blond hair from my shoulders, where they fluttered like streamers. Tonight would be the night, I was sure of it. I glanced yet again at the gate to the private beach, but Miguel was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I heard him call my name from the top of a silvery sand dune further up the beach. I smiled, all my worries instantly forgotten as we walked towards each other on the beach. He took me in a strong but gentle embrace and lifted me up off my feet, spinning us about once before leaning down into a gentle kiss.
“My lovely lady, I have a special surprise for you.” Miguel said with a grin.
Taking my hand he led me over the top of sand dune and down the other side to another stretch of pristine sand. We walked hand-in-hand, admiring the blossoming sunset and the magnificent beach that we had all to ourselves. As we climbed another larger sand dune and descended the other side, I saw his wonderful surprise; there on the beach, under a cluster of palm trees sat a table with white linen settings, a cart with several silver serving dishes, and candles that twinkled lazily in the sea breeze. Several large beach towels covered a patch of sand in front of the table like a dance floor flanked by tiki torches.
I looked up at Miguel, eyes wide with wonder. He smiled and kissed my hand, then led me down the slope to the magical display. The table was set for two, there was an open bottle of white wine, and a delicious smell coming from the serving dishes. I turned to him with misty eyes and tried to keep my lip from quivering.
“Oh Miguel, what a romantic you are!” I said as I slid my arms around his neck. “It’s perfect!”
We exchange a tender and lingering kiss as the sunset bathed us in its golden glow. Miguel reached under the table to where he had hidden a small stereo, and soon we were dancing to sambas on the soft beach towels. After a few songs I felt breathless – and not from the exertion. He led me back to the table and poured a glass of wine for each of us. He then removed the silver top from the first serving dish and the feast began with a delicious appetizer of grilled calamari in a spicy red sauce.
“Miguel, how did you…” I gestured around me as words failed.
He merely smiled enigmatically and put a finger to his lips, saying; “A good magician never reveals his tricks.”
Beneath the second serving dish the next course of grilled tenderloin of beef with bourbon cracked pepper demi-glace lay ready to tempt our pallets, followed by the third course of garlic butter lobster with spicy scotch bonnet beurre blanc, caramelized onions, glazed carrots, and nut brown butter mashed potatoes. Finally the dessert was uncovered; warm mini molten chocolate cake with chantilly cream.
As I took a spoonful of the rich, delicious dessert into my mouth, I sat back in my chair savoring the decadent creamy flavor, my eyes closing with contentment.
“How are you enjoying the dessert my lovely lady?” Miguel said, as he raised a glass of wine to his lips.
“Let me put it to you this way Miguel…” I said, timing my delivery carefully as I watched him start to swallow his mouthful of wine. “I think I just had my first orgasm of the evening.”
My timing was perfect; Miguel snorted and winced as wine dribbled out his nose. I giggled maniacally as he started to chortle, dabbing at his face with a stained napkin.
“Oh how I love American women!” Miguel said, as he gazed at me adoringly.
As Miguel cleaned up after the delicious dessert, placing the desert tray on the cart next to the other serving dishes, I noticed one last serving dish. It was tiny – just a few inches long – and I was instantly curious.
“What’s this?” I asked, as I reached for it.
“That’s for later, my lovely lady.” Miguel said with a smile as he gently pushed my hand away. “That is your special dessert.”
Miguel stood and held out his hand. I placed my hand in his, and he pulled me close. We swayed to the samba rhythms lost in each other’s eyes as the sea flowed and hissed against the sand and the setting sun displayed its golden plumage. As we danced to a slow song, we held each other close. I closed my eyes and nestled my face against Miguel’s muscular chest, lost in utter contentment.
“This is just perfect Miguel, just perfect.” I whispered softly.
“It is perfect my lovely Kelly.” He whispered back to me.
With that he leaned me back and kissed me with such hot passion my breath was momentarily stolen away.
“To not make love to each other here and now would be a mortal insult to Aphrodite herself.” Miguel breathed hotly into my ear, before kissing and nibbling his way down my throat.
I gasped and threw my head back, baring my neck to his amorous advances. A soft whimper escaped my lips as his strong hand gently cupped my breast, his thumb stroking my nipple. I felt ripples of goosebumps flash across my skin as my heart beat a frantic tattoo. “I wouldn’t want to insult a goddess.” I replied softly.
I offered no resistance as Miguel lowered me gently to a beach towel and knelt over me. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he softly and slowly caressed my arms while looking down at me, his eyes filled with adoration. The light of the setting sun illuminated him, and the gentle sea breeze toyed lazily with his dark hair. Returning his loving gaze, I reached up and placed my hands on his waist, gently drawing them towards his chest as I felt the rippling muscles through the fabric of his shirt. I slowly began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his trim lean body.
Miguel shrugged out of his shirt as soon as I undid the last button and threw it aside, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands then went to my thighs, moving upwards slowly, catching the hem of my dress. I lifted my hips as his hands slid upwards and revealed my naked body. After slipping my dress off over my head, he sat back and took my hands in his, intertwining our fingers as he gazed at me with lust and admiration. His sensual gaze seemed to my heightened senses like a physical touch, and I moaned softly as his eyes explored me.
Kneeling between my legs, Miguel leaned forward till his face was inches from mine. He gently but firmly pinned my wrists against the sand above my head with his left hand, while his right tenderly caressed my cheek. Bending down our lips met in a soft kiss, which grew more fiery by the moment. Opening my mouth I welcomed his questing tongue, which slid and wrestled with my own.
Our mingled breath whistled through our nostrils as our tongues waltzed together. Leaving me gasping for air, he eventually parted our lips and kissed his way along the bottom of my jaw line, down my throat, across my collarbone to my breasts. Releasing my wrists his hands massaged my sensitive tits while his lips kissed my soft flesh, working in circles towards my nipples, which stood hard as gumdrops. His lips soon found them, and as he sucked and licked them he pinched and pulled the other with his fingers. Forcing my nipples together with his hands, he rapidly flicked his strong tongue between them causing me to whimper in ecstasy and arch my back.
I ran my fingers through Miguel’s dark wavy hair as I sighed with pleasure; lost in the exquisite sensations he was giving me. In between kisses he was whispering something in Spanish; it could have been a grocery list for all I know, but it was an incredible turn on and I soon felt a trickle of wetness escape my pussy. As if sensing my condition, his right hand began to gently caress its way down to my freshly waxed pussy and soon I felt his well-manicured fingers softly exploring my wet and swollen labia. Stroking softly and patiently he coated his fingers with my slick juices before parting my folds and probing deeper into my pussy.
My breath was now coming in ragged gasps, and my whispered words of encouragement had become an ecstatic babble as I felt a knot of sexual energy building in my belly. Miguel slipped his two middle fingers deep into my cunt and was beginning to tug me vigorously, just the way I like it. After a few short moments it was more than I could bear; my body went rigid as a powerful orgasm shot through me and left me tingling and panting for breath. Miguel slid up beside me, holding me tenderly in his arms as he softly kissed my face and stroked my hair. The orange color of the setting sun made him look like some kind of bronze god, and I returned his affectionate gestures as I caught my breath.
Kissing his way once more down my body, Miguel made his way to my inner thighs, which I happily parted for him. I had hoped he was skilled in the art of cunnilingus, and I was certainly not disappointed. I felt his long, strong tongue parting my folds and teasing my engorged clit the way he had so skillfully stimulated my nipples. His pace was unhurried and his technique excellent. He did not linger too long on any one place, but instead flitted about like a hummingbird, kissing, sucking, licking and nibbling as I writhed and whimpered beneath him. A delicious slow burn orgasm snapped and sparkled within me, finally exploding into colors that rivaled the tropical sunset. As I shuddered in ecstasy, he took me in his strong arms, running his fingers through my hair and giving me wet, tangy kisses.
After cuddling together under the tropical sunset, Miguel excused himself and went back to the table to pour two more glasses of wine. He returned carrying a silver tray with two glasses, the bottle and the tiny silver serving dish. He was also completely naked, and I gasped slightly as I admired his erect manhood. Easily eight inches in length, it was a true work of art; thick, circumcised, and capped with a bulbous velvety head.
We sipped wine and held each other as we watched the fiery orb of the sun kiss the horizon. Setting aside our glasses, we embraced and began to kiss and nuzzle. Miguel placed his strong hands on my shoulders and started to push me down into the beach towels, but I had other ideas. Squirming out of his grip, I straddled his waist and pushed his shoulders down as I grinned mischievously. Momentarily confused, he looked up at me quizzically then smiled and lay back, his hands moving to my breasts.
Miguel had done most of the work so far, and I decided it was time for me to let him relax a bit and give him a good fucking. Stretching up as high as I could on my knees, I managed to force the head of his impressive cock into my slippery cunt. Swirling my hips, I used a move I learned in belly dance class to slowly and sensuously impale myself upon his erect member. He sighed deeply as he massaged my breasts, holding me upright in the red light of the setting sun. I moaned softly as his stiff, hot cock invaded me and set my senses alight. Lifting myself with my thighs, I began a slow gentle rhythm, pulling up until he was almost completely out of me, and then sliding down giving him a little belly dance shimmy when he was fully in.
Matching my rhythm, Miguel thrust gently upwards to meet me with each stroke, groaning with satisfaction each time he was buried deep inside me. My little shimmies were driving him wild, and it gave me immense satisfaction to watch his face contort with ecstasy each time I did one. I upped the pace, pistoning down and impaling myself on him again and again, my strawberry blond hair flying wildly as I groaned lustily. He was keeping pace, his hands still working my breasts as we pounded together. By now his teeth were clenched and his eyes were beginning to glaze as he muttered to himself in Spanish.
I sensed we were both close to orgasm, and decided to see just how much of a gentleman he was. With a wicked grin, I dropped myself onto his cock so hard the breath was nearly knocked out of me. After giving him an extended shimmy, I forced myself back up as I clung to his shaft with my vaginal muscles. After a few more thrusts of this kind I felt his cock begin to pulsate; I was holding off my own orgasm through sheer force of will, and grinned triumphantly as I waited for him to spray his seed inside me. Miguel’s face contorted with concentration and he held his breath. His cock stopped throbbing and I had to admire his control. I pulled out all the stops and slammed myself onto his engorged member, grinding and shimmying, but he won the battle of wills as a tremendous orgasm shot through my body like a fireball, leaving me breathless and dizzy.
As my senses reeled and my body spasmed I let out a long moan of ecstasy as I collapsed onto Miguel’s chest. Quickly rolling me over, he mounted me and continued his onslaught, extending my climax almost unbearably before grunting like a bear and seizing up on top of me. I felt the hot bloom of his release deep inside me as we rolled together, gasping and panting like beasts as the aftershocks of our orgasms echoed within us.
We lay together in each other’s arms, caressing and stroking each other tenderly under a magnificent sunset. After a long and gentle kiss, “Miguel” sat up on his elbow and gazed into my eyes with such love and affection I thought my heart would burst. I truly felt at that moment like the most loved, cherished and lucky woman in the world. Taking his free hand, I pressed his palm to my face, kissing it softly.
“Are you ready for your special dessert my love?” He asked, all trace of the Spanish accent gone from his voice.
I nodded, smiling sweetly as I sat up. After opening a bottle of champagne and pouring two glasses, he took up the tiny silver serving dish and scooted closer to me, looking at me with smiling eyes. Lifting the tiny silver lid, he revealed two familiar gold bands. Taking the smaller of the two rings, he slipped it on my finger.
“Happy anniversary darling.” Mark said softly.
“Happy anniversary sweetheart.” I said softly in return, as I slid the larger ring back to its accustomed place on his finger.
“To 25 more years.” Mark said, raising his glass of champagne.
“To 25 more wonderful years.” I replied as we clinked our glasses together and drank.
After draining our glasses we set them aside, and held each other tenderly as we watched the whispering waves under the fading tropical sunset.
“A cultured and romantic exiled Spanish nobleman?” I said with a grin. “Have you been reading my sappy romance novels?”
“I was going to be a muscular, bare–chested Scottish Highland chief, but Fabio’s hair was busy this week.” Mark replied cheekily.
We fell into each other’s arms laughing and made passionate love until the sun vanished in all its pageantry, leaving the tropical sky in the care of the modest stars.