It was a hot, slightly humid day on my desert island in the Maldives. Well, I say my island, but actually I had to share it with about fifty other travellers on this, the holiday of a lifetime. I'd come on my own, now that I had split up with my rat of a boyfriend who decided to start screwing his secretary a couple of weeks before we were due to leave. What made it worse was that I'd turned down a few offers myself, even though Mark was the most boring fuck I'd ever had. I believed in monogamy so when I found out he was cheating on me, he had to go. In fact, it was a relief not to be spending this idyllic trip with Mark - he was bound to want sex and I'd got fed up with faking it. So I had a romantic thatched hut on stilts above a crystal clear blue lagoon all to myself - and no one to share it with.
Almost everyone else was there as couples, apart from a couple of gorgeous Australian guys who were together. Imagine Brad Pitt and Keanu Reeves and you get the picture. But among the girls I'd got talking to, it was accepted that 'Brad and Keanu' were gay - so, just another couple! What a waste!
The island was pretty small, with a green interior surrounded by white sandy beaches. But because there were so few of us, you could go all day without seeing anyone if you wanted to. On the day in question, that was just what I wanted - not because I was desperate to be alone, but because I'd hired a windsurfer and I didn't want too much of an audience when I kept falling in the water! I'd had a brief tutorial the previous day, but wanted to practice on my own before I was prepared to brave the watchers near the water-bar!
So I was spending a lot of time in the water in my skimpy turquoise string bikini, laughing at myself and my pathetic attempts at balancing on the board and keeping the sail upright. After a while, I dragged the windsurfer up the deserted beach a little and padded towards the edge of the sand, where I'd left my bag and little cool box in the shade of a couple of palm trees. I spread my towel out on the sand, picked up a cold fruit juice from the bag, and decided to catch a few rays before trying my luck on the floating ironing board again.
I started rubbing suntan lotion into my skin, first on my arms and legs and then onto my stomach. Topless sunbathing wasn't allowed on the island, but I decided that I would risk a fine if it meant having no strap marks! The sun was hot on my tanned skin as I untied my bikini top and massaged suntan lotion into my breasts. I'm quite proud of my boobs, they're 36C and nice and pert and rounded, with dusky gold nipples and skin the colour of honey. My body is my finest asset and I was used to getting remarks about my breasts from builders. Shame Mark didn't appreciate it - or perhaps he did, too much, and that explained why he used to cum before I was even getting started!
I lay back in the sun, covering my face with my sunhat to prevent too many wrinkles and a headache later on. I could feel the rays of the sun beating down on my almost naked body, feel the tiny hairs prickling slightly as the sun warmed my skin. Then, suddenly, there was a slight rustling from the bushes behind me and a male voice said "That's illegal on this island but I'm not telling if you're not!"
I sat bolt upright, grabbing a boob in each hand to cover myself, and looked straight into the divine baby blues of 'Brad'!
"Tom," he said, holding out a hand. "Pleased to meet you at last!" Unthinkingly, I reached out to shake his hand, leaving my right boob exposed. 'Oh never mind," I thought to myself, "he's gay anyway, what does he care?"
"Lucy" I replied. "Likewise."
"I've been watching you surfing," he sat down beside me. "You're pretty good for a beginner."
The thought of him watching me made me blush. "I'll give you a few pointers if you like - I've been windsurfing since I was a kid," he continued. "But first I reckon you should work on that tan a bit more, this time your back, otherwise you'll burn to a crisp and the rest of the holiday will be no fun at all! Lie down and turn over."
And with that, he picked up my suntan lotion and motioned me to lie on my front. As putting sunscreen on your own back ranks up there with giving yourself a blowjob in terms of impossibility, I was happy to oblige.
First, he gently moved my damp, dark mane of hair to one side so that my back and shoulders were bare to the sun, and then he slowly squeezed the sunscreen in a wide zigzag over my skin. When he touched me, I felt the first pang of lust and regret that he was gay. He had such sensitive fingers, rubbing the sunscreen onto my skin and giving me a massage as well, or so it seemed. First he started with small, circular movements, but as my back became more slippery with lotion the movements became more sweeping and regular. Without thinking, I murmured "Mmmm, that's gooooood."
"Glad to oblige," Tom answered, sounding almost sleepy. "D'you like having a massage?"
"Mmmm"
"Well, how about I try this?" and with that, he was straddling my back, kneeling up over my upper thighs. His hands were moving in slow, sensuous movements up the centre of my spine, along my shoulders and down the outer edges of my back. By this time I was feeling pretty sexy and I didn't really care whether he was gay or not because I was pretty certain that, without any direct stimulation, the sun and the massage would do the trick and I would soon orgasm right where I lay! I moved my arms up so that my head was resting on my forearms and instantly the movement of Tom's hands changed slightly. After sweeping across my shoulder-blades his fingers began dipping down along my sides, taking the sunscreen over my ribcage and waist and gently brushing the outsides of my breasts. After a couple of sweeps I no longer knew what to think. If he was gay, why was he deliberately touching my breasts in such as sexy way? I couldn't exactly ask him, so I decided to find out once and for all. Raising my upper body up onto my elbows and forearms, I moaned again in pleasure.
'Mmmmmmm, don't stop, please!"
Another squirt of sunscreen went onto his hands and he slowly, deliberately rose to my bait. Rubbing the lightly scented cream into my shoulders he then slid his hands down over my shoulder blades before slipping them round my ribs until his fingertips brushed the outer sides of my breasts. I felt my nipples tighten and he must have heard my involuntary intake of breath as his fingers slowly continued until he was cupping my breasts in his hands, rolling my rock-hard, engorged nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He continued to massage the lotion into my heavy, sensitive boobs, every now and then allowing his fingers to brush across my nipples, sending me into an ecstasy of lust. The orgasm that had been brewing ever since I set eyes on him suddenly erupted and I pushed myself up on my hands, arching my back and moaning.
"Oh yes, yes, yes...."
"If you're going to get a tan, you don't want strap marks," he said conversationally as my climax subsided. I felt horribly embarrassed at cumming so violently after only having my breasts fondled!
"I don't usually..." I began, but he put his finger on my lips.