The Caribbean sunrise was complete as Jon finished mile six of his Saturday morning run. One more mile and he'd be at their Tortola, British Virgin Islands home. His thoughts and fantasies dwelled on what she would be doing when he returned, all hot and sweaty, full of testosterone and ambition. Reaching the driveway in full sprint, Jon stopped, bent over with hands on his knees, gasping for breath. His last mile averaged at an 8-minute mile pace, which is all his 50-year old frame could handle. The walk to the cool shade of the back patio was glorious. Bougainvillea vines lined the sunny walls of their cozy home, with their sharp thorns and bright red flowers. Hummingbirds raced through the air, sucking up the precious nectar of the trumpet vines that thrived on the eastern edge of their property.
Jon patterned his stride to align with the flagstone walkway that lead to her special place in the very private back yard. Turning the corner, he saw Marissa laying on her favorite chaise lounge - a thick, cushioned mattress covered in a bright orange floral print atop a teakwood frame. She was reading from her favorite book of erotica short stories, and the slight smile on her face said everything. Her smooth, black skin was covered in streaks of shade and sun. On a small table next to her was a tall glass of ice water, loaded with pineapple and kiwi. A true goddess in her island paradise.
"Got seven in today . . . felt great," panted Jon.
"That's wonderful babe, you look like you gave it your all," smiled Marissa.
Marissa's Caribbean roots run deep, and her love of life, nature, and pleasure permeated everything about her. No one could ever be around her and not feel that sunshine flashed out of her. Her curvy figure, large ample breasts, and deliciously full lips stood out at first glance. Yet her bright eyes, beautiful smile and smooth black skin combined to give her an air of royalty. Approaching middle age, she had experience, education, and the wisdom that comes from being a well-traveled career woman. It was hard not to yield to her in every way.
On this morning, a hundred flashes of thoughts, memories and dreams raced through Jon's mind after only five seconds of seeing her. They had been a couple for three years now, and had become tightly knit, matching perfectly for one another. Yet with every day, new angles and perspectives of her beauty caused Jon to be continuously amazed, and forever grateful to be her man. He felt lucky that she would have ever given a white man any attention, and did everything in his power to never make her regret that choice. Now standing ten feet from her, dripping with sweat, he decided he'd better get cleaned up.
"Thanks Love, I'm gonna hop in the shower. Be right out."
Located along a secluded wall behind their house was an outdoor shower. The combination of fences, shrubs and trees made it completely private. Marissa need only glance up from her book to watch her man go from a sweaty, dirty mess to a delicious, sweet smelling lover. Jon stripped off his clothes and piled them on a wooden bench. Shampooing vigorously, his brown hair became coated with a coconut-scented shampoo. He knew how to appeal to her senses, and used the soap that matched his cologne, sending wafts of woodsy, citrusy scents for Marissa to breathe in. Jon carefully covered every inch of his body with soap, drawing her stare as he washed his balls and cock, and as his soapy fingers glided up and down the crack of his ass. She smiled approvingly, knowing that he would be aptly prepared for what she had planned for him.
He finished showering and dried off, their eyes fixed on each other. He knew his body turned her on, and he noticed her taking particular pleasure in watching him. Jon draped the towel around his neck, and walked past Marissa, heading for the house. Their eyes were locked on one another, and Jon's smile confessed that he knew his shower was a big tease for her.
Marissa stared up at him as he walked past her, then said, "Jon, I left something for you on the vanity. Put it on. I'll be in shortly."
Jon walked into the bathroom, scanned the vanity, only to find a pair of beige camo thong underwear. He held it up, wondering what was in store for him, but didn't dare deny her of the request. He slipped it on, realizing that Marissa had intentionally bought a pair that was at least a couple sizes too small for him, and his balls and cock bulged out. The back strap, made of a thin spandex strip, was wedged up his ass. He looked at himself in the mirror, still red-faced from his run, looked down at his package, and thought, "Well, let's see what happens next."
What happens next became painfully apparent as soon as he walked out of the bathroom. Marissa was standing there, holding a two foot length of red parachute cord. On one end was attached a thick rubber ball. On the other end was a noose-like knot, which would constrict as the cord was pulled. She stared into his eyes, walked up to him, and reached into his thong and looped the noose around his cock and balls. She passed the rubber ball under the top strap, allowing the cord to pass out the left side of his thong. The weight of the rubber ball was enough to cause a constant tug on Jon's cock and balls. When pulled, it would bring a grown man to his knees, and demand complete attention. Marissa always figuratively had control of his package, but for that day, she literally had full control.
