Chapter One: Dubai
The soft pressure between Ella's legs slowly brought her out of her sleep. Half conscious, she opened her legs wider so that the tongue running down the length of her labia had more room. Arching her back, she thrust her hips forward to meet the lapping contact.
"Mmm, yes, that's just how I like baby," she murmured, her normally bright eyes lidded as waves of pleasure shot up through her spine.
Her clutching hands found the head between her thighs, holding him there while her slim hips arched up towards the attentive tongue. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips when it edged inside her.
"Like that ... just like that," she panted, curling her fingers into her boyfriend's soft stubbly hair.
Bringing her out of her sleep like this was one of Marc's specialities. Their relationship might have been going downhill for a few months but the sex was still good. Amazing in fact! They were extremely compatible in bed, if not elsewhere.
It was the last day of their Dubai holiday and she'd persuaded him to take the break in the vague hope that it might save their relationship. It hadn't worked out like that. Despite being on holiday in such a romantic location, they had still found plenty of time to bitch at each other even over the smallest things.
Marc was between jobs but had plenty of plans for the future. The problem was that she wasn't sure if all of those plans included her, or even when he expected that future to start.
If she wasn't included, well, she was an independent girl. And in some ways it would be a relief to escape the silly arguments that took place everywhere other than the bedroom. She would enjoy the last rites of their relationship rather than worrying about what was going to happen and right now, that enjoyment was focused on the orgasm beginning to bubble inside her.
Once he'd thoroughly satisfied her, she'd spend the rest of the day on the beach until it was time for their flight.
And right now, as she glanced downwards, she had no complaints.
His fingers had dug more tightly into her thighs as he shuffled on the bed to make himself more comfortable. The contrast in her tanned Mediterranean skin against his dark ebony skin always made her hot. When he momentarily pulled away so that he could grin up into her eyes, she instantly pushed his head down into her wet folds. The cocky so-and-so could wait until she'd reached her climax before he started congratulating himself.
"Did I say stop?" she snapped.
Her hips pushed even higher as his tongue probed inside her again. Even the morning stubble that scraped across her skin felt sexy. She curled her right foot around his neck and tugged him closer as her clawed at the sheets, her red fingernails digging into the soft fabric.
"Yes, there... just there..."
She was whimpering like an animal on heat. She always did when she began to lose control. Just like this. Her foot tightened around his neck and her hips frantically humped upwards. She was using the whole of his face to reach her climax and when it arrived she threw her head back and announced her release with a throaty cry.
Her thighs continued to squeeze his juice stained face until her climax had subsided and only then did she let him free.
But even then, the beautiful brunette wasn't finished. Moving quickly, she twisted her body over his, straddling him before he could react and sheathing his impressive hardness inside her.
"Don't think you're getting out of this bed 'til you've fucked me silly," she rasped in his ear, as her hips began to work on his length.
She'd always been such a greedy girl...
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With their main luggage already packed for their late-afternoon return journey, Ella's beachwear needed to be light enough for her to be able to tuck it away afterwards in her on-flight overnight bag.
The red bikini was perfect. And deliciously revealing, too. The skimpy top barely contained her perky breasts and her nipples, still hard from their early morning lovemaking, were thrusting sexily through the thin material. Then there was the little red g-string that barely passed as a bikini bottom. It only just covered the slight rise of her mound.
Their break-up might be almost inevitable, but while Marc might not fully appreciate what he would miss out on, she was determined to ensure that everyone else would. And where better to find a confidence boost than in the admiring glances of a few strangers?
She'd have to wear the white shawl over the bikini on the journey to and from the hotel's private beach, of course. Women were much more constrained over here, even in the relative security of the hotel.
With Marc off somewhere, probably on the phone to one of his idiot friends, she was determined to enjoy her last few hours on the golden sands. Some sunbathing and the occasional dip in the clear blue water would set her up nicely for the long journey home.
She needed relaxation right now, not another stupid spat.
There were already quite a few couples scattered around the private beach when she made her way outside. She made her way to a spot beside a palm tree, knowing that she'd appreciate the shelter later when the sun was at its highest.
Women were busy lathering themselves with sun tan protection as she wandered past them, while their husbands or boyfriends pretended to occupy themselves while surreptitiously eyeing up her body. Their not so subtle glances were clearly apparent even behind the designer sunglasses they all seemed to wear.
Married men. They were all the same. It did make her chuckle, though. The thought of them furtively wanking behind their wives backs, while they imagined they were fucking her, was hot.
Ella wasn't the only woman they were slyly ogling. The woman sitting under the striped umbrella on the nearby lounger was a target, too.
Ella had noticed her earlier in the week. How was it possible to miss someone with such a definitive look? With her voluminous strawberry blonde hair, full pouting red lips, pale skin and voluptuous body, she was a glamorous throwback to an earlier age. As absurd as it might seem, the woman appeared to have styled herself on Marilyn Monroe.
Nor did she have any inhibitions about flaunting her store-bought tits in the overhead sun. Like yesterday, she had already removed her top and her bare breasts thrust proudly from her body.
It was strictly forbidden to bathe topless, of course, but this woman didn't seem to care.
Ella dropped her towel and bag by the sun lounger next to the palm tree. Glancing around to ensure the maximum numbers of eyes were on her, she made a deliberate show of slowly removing her white shawl and then languidly stretching her arms over her head. The wives might have been sending disapproving scowls her way, but all male eyes had quickly found their way to her pert body as she teasingly stretched out.
That would give them something to argue over, she giggled to herself, just as another thought occurred to her. Acting on instinct, she untied her top and stood for a moment, posing topless, before sliding down onto the lounger. If the other woman could, why couldn't she?
It didn't take long to fall asleep. Maybe it was the early morning sex, or the growing heat out in the sun? She had no idea how long she dozed, but when she woke it was to a shadow passing across her closed eyes.
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"I brought you a drink," the Marilyn-lookalike said, looking down at the younger woman.
She'd been watching the hot young brunette all week and waiting for the right opportunity to approach her. Everything she had observed so far had indicated she'd be a perfect acquisition for the business she worked for. The girl had a great figure—beautifully toned like an athlete—and clearly enjoyed being the centre of attention.
Her exhibitionist trait and naturally sexy way of attracting attention was there for all to see by the way she acted when she had reached the pool. In short, she was a right little cock-tease.
And even better still, her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.
The girl—twenty-one, twenty-two?—twisted in the lounger and shielded her eyes despite the shades.
Marilyn offered her one of the two couple champagne flutes in her hand as she took a seat on the lounger next to her.
"I got us a couple mimosas, darling. I gather you're heading back home later today? Such a shame."
The girl sat up and stared at her in surprise. Marilyn had deliberately sat beside her bikini top so that she couldn't reach it without appearing obvious. Those perky tits were worth admiring, but it was more that she wanted to see her reaction. There wasn't one. She appeared unfazed. Excellent.
"That's very kind," the girl said, taking the drink. "How did you know I was leaving today?"
"It isn't hard to find out these things," Marilyn said, with a knowing smile.
She already had the conversation planned out in her mind. It wouldn't be difficult to lead the brunette in the direction she wanted. The girl wouldn't even know what was happening until it was way too late.
"There's a pretty Brazilian receptionist who's infatuated with me and keeps her ear close to the ground. In my line of work, I like to know what's going on."
There it was. Let her know she was bi. And provoke her curiosity, too.
"Your line of work?" the girl asked inquisitively.
Even behind her oversized sunglasses, Marilyn could clearly see that the brunette was studying her body. That was definitely a good sign.
"I work for a modelling agency, darling." She held out her hand. "I'm Marilyn, by the way."
