Negril

So Shelley took me to Negril. I hadn't enjoyed my fortieth birthday, and I'd been very down about work - hating the job I soon walked away from -- and she decided that the cure was a week in the Jamaican sun. From the stories I've heard, we missed out by not staying at one of the megaresorts full of the tanned, naked, and young. She'd booked us at a tiny deluxe resort full of well-to-do older people on the opposite side of the bay. But we did still manage to find some adventure.

Ours began one night at a reggae bar that had been recommended to us by the guide we hired for the week. From 6 -- 9, it served good local food, and then bands would come on and play until 2 in the morning.

Halfway through dinner, the lights went out, then came back on, more dimly. Servers walked through the room, lighting candle lanterns on each table, and then after a while, there was an announcement that the bands were cancelled for the evening because of the power issue -- there wasn't enough electricity to run their amplifiers. The free rum drink we were each given to reimburse the $5 cover made up for some of the disappointment, and we continued to chat, mostly about the peoplewatching we were doing. The place was a mix of black locals on an evening out, tourists like us, and a set of hard-to-define black and white couples -- too comfortable to be tourists and yet somehow not locals.

They my eye was caught by two women who walked in. One was in her twenties, and one older, maybe late forties or fifty. There was something about the younger one... "Hey," I whispered to Shelly. "Check the two women in white and green shirts at your seven o clock. What do you notice?" She casually turned and looked.

She whispered back "Wow, the young one is pretty but somehow...skanky."

It was hard to explain; the younger woman was dressed like pretty much every tourist here, but she gave off a quality...not just one of sexuality, but somehow a dark, almost offputting sexuality.

I watched them come in and get seated partway across the room, and the turned back to Shelly and continued our chat. A moment later, a voice spoke from just over my shoulder.

"Excuse me," I turned and saw the older woman. At a glance I moved her up the economic ladder; her jewelry and clothes were not quite ostentatious, but were very well made, and overall, she looked like she'd stepped out of a beach party at the exclusive Hamptons.

I winced internally at what I expected her to say. Anticipating a stern tongue lashing for staring at her young companion -- daughter? friend? -- as they walked in, I smiled harmlessly and warmly.

"Good evening," I replied.

"You're from California, aren't you?" she asked.

I was puzzled for a moment, and then looked down at my Killer Dana Surf Shop t-shirt.

"Yes we are; from South Orange County."

"We live in San Diego during the winter," she replied.

"And summer in New York?" I guessed.

"Exactly!" She gestured in the direction of their table. "My daughter grew up in both places and now lives in San Francisco. We're just enjoying some time here. I came over to ask if you and your lovely wife would like to join us for dinner."

I apologized. "So sorry! We've just finished and were going to go back to our hotel."

"Well, come have a drink," she persisted.

I looked at Shelley and shrugged with my face. She looked at her watch and then said "Sure, we'll stay for a drink. Let us pay up here and we'll join you at your table in a moment."

We introduced ourselves; she was Diana and her daughter was Daphne. Diana waved at Daphne and walked back over to their table.

I leaned in to Shelly and whispered "Why us? Of all the people in this place, why the fuck would she pick us out?"

"No clue," she whispered as she shook her head.

"She's hot for you," I joked. "I can tell these things." She laughed and kicked me under the table.

In truth, most people were hot for Shelly. She'd had a brief career as a model when we'd met, and had the model's high cheekbones, perfect fine features, and slender body with just enough curve to be delicious.

We paid our very reasonable bill, and walked over to their table.

Daphne stared at Shelly as we walked up and I wondered just how much of my joke was actually true.

We sat with them, chatted briefly and shared a quick drink. The conversation skittered inconclusively across topics like a rock skipping over the shore, and as their food came, we rose to take leave.

"You don't have to leave," Diana said.

"No, we're heading to the hotel for a swim and then bed," Shelly said. Diana started to say something.

Ever diplomatic, I made a suggestion. "There's a beach restaurant about two miles up this road. It's called 'Grill Fish' or something like that -- just a Quanset hut on the beach with picnic tables in front of it. We'll be there tomorrow at sunset. If you can make it, that'd be wonderful."

Diana exclaimed happily, "That's just down the road from where we're staying!"

"Perfect!" Shelly replied.

We shook hands and walked out of the restaurant to our scooters.

It was late spring, and the tropical summer heat and humidity was beginning. As soon as we were back in our room, we stripped off and headed for the shower. I walked staring at Shelly's perfect, pear-shaped ass as I walked along behind her. She was my height -- maybe 5'-10", weighed 115 pounds, and had long, slender muscular legs leading up to that awesome ass, a flat belly and small breasts with dark nipples that grew to be well over an inch long when she was aroused. Right now they were flat; I decided to make it my job to make them stand out.

I caught her just as she stepped into the dark bathroom, and put my arms around her from behind. She leaned back into me and twisted her head back for a kiss. I could just get to the corner of her mouth, and we slipped our tongues over each other's and kissed as deeply as we could. I ran my hands down to the thighs, then up them, just along the sides of her bush, and then up her belly to her breasts. I cupped them, feeling her nipples hardening against my palms. I licked the side of her neck and began to softly lick the salty edge of her ear.

She nestled back against me and groaned, slowly rocking her ass against my hardening cock.

In a moment I wasn't hardening but hard, my cock between her legs, and I could feel her firm inner lips opening and her slippery warmth against the top of my shaft. We stepped forward into the dark bathroom, until we reached the sink and the vanity below the mirror. We could just make out our shapes in the mirror in the light from the door behind us. She stood on tiptoe and leaned forward, hands on the counter, bracing herself.

I bent my knees, and reached down to slip the head of my diamond-hard cock along her slippery lips and then in a quick motion, stood up and parted her lips and slid into her to the hilt.

We both groaned, and I began to sloooowly slide out and then quickly back into her; a rhythm that I knew she enjoyed.

It was hard work; I couldn't quite straighten my legs, she kept herself on tiptoes braced with her arms, we were both straining as we moaned, and in a moment I felt sweat running down my back. I leaned down and licked hers and tasted the droplets of salty sweat there and then ran my tongue up to her neck and hairline. As I bottomed out in her I nipped her neck bringing an exclamation of pleasure.

I held myself there, completely enveloped in her warmth, the firm nub of her cervix just tickling the end of my cock, and moved my hand from my shoulders to her nipples. They were extended, swollen hard, the right one was dripping sweat, and as I gently ran my fingers over them, she squirmed with pleasure. I felt a trickling along the front of my balls as a mixture of her viscous juices and our sweat ran down and dripped slowly off me.

I released her by sliding backward and she followed me with her ass, unwilling to have me pull out, and suddenly I felt the thickening in my cock that always precedes coming -- slowly moving along the shaft from the base until it reaches the tip, and then the blinding pleasure of the spasms as I shot spurt after spurt of sticky come deep into my wife.

The physical tension of holding myself up, pressing into her and coming meant I forgot to breathe for a moment, and when I did I was gasping for air. I caught my breath, and we stepped apart, my half-hard cock making a wet sound as it popped out of her vagina. She stood up turned to me, and we rubbed our sweat-slicked bodies against each other and kissed for a moment or two.

"Now, let's shower," she declared as she stepped away from me into the tiled shower.

I turned on the light as she stepped into the shower, and winced as I realized that the bathroom window was wide open; it looked out over a small yard separating the bungalows and I wondered what our neighbors had heard. We were in the youngest 10% of guests at the small hotel and I was sure the elderly couples were either entertained or appalled when they saw Shelley topless on the beach with me leaning over her and kissing her. Now we'd added to our bad reputations.

She set the shower to a perfect cool temperature and we stepped into the tile cubicle and rinsed off. I quickly shampooed and soaped up, rinsed off, and stepped out of the water to let her rinse. She ran her hands through her hair to get the shampoo out -- a posture that always made me look as her breasts stood out from her slender frame, and she consciously elongated herself to highlight her curves. She looked at me and laughed, and then had me pass her the bath oil.

She poured a handful, handed me back the bottle, and as I capped it rubbed it over her breasts and belly. Her right hand fingered one nipple and then the other and her left hand slowly slid down the oily surface below her belly button into her thick pubic hair and between her legs.

"You didn't come," I said.

"Yet" she said as she looked at me and grinned.

"So who were you thinking about while you were fucking me in the dark?" she asked, fingers busy between her legs. "The mother or the daughter?" she continued. "Eh?" It took a second. I was probably stupid because all my blood was still in my groin.

"So was it the tight young pussy, or the experienced one?" By now her clit was engorged and peeped out between her fingers, framed by her dark curly pubes, red and an inch long. I could tell from her expression how aroused she was. She was chewing on her lip and squirming slightly as she stood in the warm spray of the shower. "Why not both?" I replied with a laugh. "But seriously, that's a little creepy."

"I think it's fucking hot," she replied, her breath starting to become deeper and louder. "Hot. Fuck, yeah. Oh, fuck fuck fuck..." I saw the muscles in her abdomen start to tense and stepped toward her and suddenly she was running her finger hard over her clit with her knees starting to buckle as she started coming. I caught her and held her up as she finished her orgasm and shook for an instant until she relaxed in my arms. She leaned in to me -- we're almost the same height -- and we kissed deeply. She stepped back into the shower and rinsed her hands and body.

I pointed to my revived cock, now pointing jauntily in the air.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" I asked hopefully.

She flicked the underside of the head -- just a little painfully -- and said "Save it for tomorrow, stud. One way or another you'll need it," and stepped past me out of the shower.

I turned the water to cool and stood in the shower for a moment, hoping the hardon would just go down. It didn't and so I stepped out and Shelley laughed as I looked down at it forlornly.

She brushed her teeth and handed me the toothbrush. I brushed mine and headed for bed.

Slipping under the sheet, she cuddled up against my side and whispered "Maybe we'll get lucky tomorrow."

Moments after my head hit the pillow, I was asleep.

I woke up as the morning light began to stream through the shutters. What woke me was Shelly, shaking in the throes of a massive orgasm next to me. I looked over and she was face down, and had buried her face in the pillow and was grunting, her ass shaking under the sheet. I rolled over and put my arm around her, feeling her arm muscles still working as she rubbed herself and smelling the strong scent of pussy.

She relaxed in my arms and turned to me and sighed "I had the most amazing dream..." and fell back asleep.

I lay there and just relaxed for a while, until the light through the shutters became too bright to ignore.

I woke Shelley and we went and took another shower, dressed, and headed to breakfast.

She was going to go into town with our guide and another guest from the hotel, and I was going diving out at the end of the bay. We agreed to meet back at the hotel at 3. My dive was, as all dives in the Caribbean are, spectacular. I flew along azure cliffs through brilliant animated clouds of fish, above flat brilliant white plains of sand. I went through two tanks, and finally had to come out of the water. I sat in the bow of the dory and savored my run-and-coke. The day, I felt, had been seized, throttled, and put to rest.

We beached at the hotel, and I thanked and tipped the divemaster and skipper, and headed for the room. I rinsed off under the open air shower by the pool, and dove in, just drifting and catching some sun until 3.

Then I went to the room, showered, undressed, set the alarm for 6, and dropped onto the neatly made bed and fell asleep. When the alarm buzzed, the sun was low in the sky, and Shelly was snoring softly next to me, fully dressed. I shook her awake, "C'mon sleepy. Time to go get dinner."

I dressed up, wearing a polo shirt with my shorts and sandals instead of a t-shirt; Shelly wore a lightweight long cotton dress that clung to her figure; we hopped on our scooters and headed out into the setting sun.

A few miles down the road, we turned into a small neighborhood of small homes and rode along the road to the beach. Just at the end was the quanset hut we'd expected to see, and a wafting smell of burning wood.

We walked up and the server -- a young black man with big shoulders and an ironic expression greeted us. He turned and two young men pulled out a picnic table and quickly set it for two.

"We might be four," I added. "We're not sure if our friends will make it."

"No worries," the host replied.

We ordered Red Stripes, and sat, waiting and watching the beach and the setting sun over the bluff at the edge of the bay.

To be Continued...