After our session, we decided to have a little nap. We awoke around five p.m. and cleaned up in the shower together. There was the usual touching and feeling, and as I was soaping her, I slipped a finger down her crack and eased it in about a centimetre. Emma gasped, her legs buckling beneath her. Apart from my tongue, nothing else had been up there before, and even though it was just a centimetre, my tongue definitely didn't get that far.
We went out for dinner at a nearby restaurant. It was one of those cosy, unpretentious places with dim lighting, where conversations murmur and glances linger a beat too long. A salty breeze drifted in through the open windows, stirring her hair like fingers might. We sat close--too close for just dinner. Her thigh brushed against mine under the table, and her eyes had that soft, mischievous sparkle. The conversation was easy, flirtatious. I grabbed a chilled bottle of rose to go.
Afterward, we wandered along the beach, fingers occasionally brushing. The sand was cool beneath our feet, the waves breaking just out of reach. Emma linked her arm through mine, her body pressing against me as if she couldn't get close enough, her head settling on my shoulder like it had always belonged there. The moonlight silvered the tops of the waves, and lights from the ships blinked quietly in the distance, waiting to enter Durban Harbour. It was peaceful, intimate. I, too, was waiting to enter somewhere.
Back in the room, her bare feet on the tiles she pulled her sundress over her head. No words--just that look. That need. It hung in the air between us, heavy and sweet.
Her alcoholic buzz was fading, and I figured it was time. I'd brought my trusted bottle of Sylk--my go-to for anal. It's never let me down. There wasn't going to be a slow burn tonight. She was ready. I could feel it in her body, the way she pressed against me--hungry, impatient.
I scooped her up and carried her to the bed. I positioned her facing the window. On her knees, head and shoulders down, her small, round ass high in the air. I lowered my head to her and started with her pussy--licking, teasing, tasting. She was already wet and eager. I licked her slowly, deeply, then moved to her asshole, circling it with my tongue. Flicking. Teasing. Until I could sense her body start to relax.
I popped the cap on the lube and squeezed a good drop onto my finger. With one hand pulsing on her clit, I eased my lubed finger against her tight ring and began massaging. She moaned, pushing back as I gently slid my finger in. In and out, slow and steady, building a rhythm.
Her body started trembling. I stopped right away; I didn't want her to come yet. Gradually I withdrew my finger and replaced it with my thumb. There wasn't much resistance, but I could feel the inner rings my cock would soon have to breach. Her moans deepened as my thumb went further.
I slicked up my cock with a generous coat of lube. In one smooth motion, I pulled out my thumb and pressed the head of my cock to her backdoor. I told her to relax. To push back into me. To take it at her pace.
The lube worked like a dream. I felt the head slide past the inner ring--tight, warm, perfect. Her virgin ass took me in.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh," she moaned--low and guttural. I still remember the way she gripped the sheets, fists clenched, pulling it tight as my manhood slid deeper into uncharted territory. She asked me to stop. I froze.
