The tropical paradise was all the more luxurious at the Tahitian resort. The miles of white sand beach against blue skies and water were a visual delight. The warm trade winds and the fragrance of plumeria made certain the rest of the senses were equally satisfied.
As she strolled back to the resort along the beach, her trail by the waterline was the only evidence of perturbation. And even so, ephemeral it was. With each kiss of the rolling waves, the sea gently reclaimed the last of her tracks.
More than a few minutes had passed since he caught sight of her lazy beach sojourn from the deck of their signature over-the-water bungalow. A stunning vision was this beauty emerging from sheer radiance as the sun shined behind her, heralding her arrival.
The closer she approached, the clearer it became that her attire had given way to the warmth of the dawning day. Her flowing sarong had already made its way south, wrapped around her sensuous mid-section. Leaving her full breasts swaying proudly with each step, held only half-heartedly by the triangle bikini top. Peering over her sunglasses, she spotted her handsome husband across the lagoon. A mischievous smile, knowing her beloved's gaze would be transfixed. Anticipating that his early morning rise would greet her return, she had donned her sheer white Malibu Strings bikini. Against the sandy beach's glow, it was impossible to ignore the dark circles of her generous areolas and protruding nipples.
Her aim was true. He felt his penis engorge. A reflex that arose only with his bride of six years.
Alexander marveled how Belle knew his every desire, from want to fetish. She understood implicitly that their foreplay commenced with the thoughtful adornment of her spectacular 36D-24-34 figure. She could hardly misread his inclinations from the first time they made love. "Show me your tits," he had urgently uttered, evincing both the sheepishness of a boy and the strident command of a man. Cupping her breasts in loving reply, she had felt the gush of his ejaculation against her womb. A sensation like never before. That moment removed all doubt what power dynamic the two would share.
But nor were Belle's predilections mainstream submissive. She had never been with a man who she could feel inside her. The formidable length, the impressive girth, the heat of his flesh. For Belle, his penis had no rival. To this day, she could hardly believe how insatiable she was from their beginning. No awkwardness, no hesitation. Just incendiary.
That immeasurable feeling of his cock from the instant he slid inside her for the first time carried her easily to orgasm, which she had never experienced through intercourse before. Belle would have attested to her unconditional inability to finish that way. But within days, one seeming impossibility after another fell by the way. Multiple orgasms among the first feat to relent.
And their sexual progression continued with haste. Missionary to cowgirl to doggy style. Indeed, the last was an earth shaking demonstration that Belle could come on Alexander's cock without clitoral stimulation. Yes, the mythical vaginal orgasm took them both by surprise.
Both willingly gave in to the sexual chemistry that neither had known before. Belle, who had hardly given or received oral sex with past lovers, now admitted to an addiction with Alexander's semen. Forever deliberating the merits of finishing him off with a swallow, or on her face and tits, versus relishing the feel of him leaking out of her swollen pussy.
The reminiscences in the earlier chapters here chronicled the evolution of their sexual repertoire. The exhibitionism in their New York City venues and Paris adventure. The daring foray during their transatlantic flight that introduced them to wilder times culminating in a threesome with a young woman flight attendant. And presently, the holiday to French Polynesia.
Alexander continued to sip his expresso and survey the tropical perfection. He became only vaguely aware of the sound of the bungalow door opening and closing before feeling the firmness of Belle's breasts against his back as she folded her arms around him.
Alexander had secretly attributed his undeniable attraction to this sensation to his childhood next door neighbor. Mary had blossomed early and was blessed with exceptionally large breasts having a teenager's perkiness, in addition to thick nipples that seemed perpetually aroused. As juvenile flirtations tend, their summers were a glorious string of seemingly endless days at the pool. Mary would tease Alexander mercilessly with prolonged hugs and occasional flashes of skin that all verged on the inappropriate. But in the end, their explorations, or petting for some, were relatively innocent owing mostly to Alexander's stricter upbringing.
Indeed, Alexander recalled times when his mother would see Mary walking down the street. His mother's comments about how Mary had clearly reached womanhood were not so subtle aspersions about Mary's slutty demeanor. But Alexander knew differently about his friend. Still, he wondered whether his visage gave away an adolescent longing, and moreover, the satisfaction that he had felt those womanly gifts against his body on more than a few occasions.
Even some thirty years later, Alexander could recount with clarity messing around with Mary in the neighbor's swimming pool. Her bathing suit like a second skin, leaving his young mind without need of imagination, burning a fiery memory of her fabulous globes and tumescent nipples.
As fate dictated, this child's play was all that transpired. Alexander hardly saw Mary after his departure for university. He smiled, however, with the memory of his very last encounter during a brief visit home. When Mary saw Alexander drive by to say hello, she leaned into the open window of the car to deliver an uncharacteristically passionate French kiss. Any question was eliminated that she too would harbor lifelong memories of their summers together.
True that before Belle, whose body closely resembled Mary's, Alexander had never felt an uncontrollable attraction for any particular woman. A healthy number of partners, including long-term girlfriends, filled his count, but there always seemed to be something missing. No doubt a survey of his past lovers would reveal a consensus that his commitment, while enough for some, nonetheless appeared intangibly constrained. In many ways, Alexander was lucky to have listened to his inner voice and to have avoided entanglements that were doomed from the start.
On the deck, Alexander turned to reciprocate Belle's encapsulation. He tilted down a bit and tasted her full pliant lips. Beyond the virtues of natural beauty, Belle moved with remarkable sensually in her slightest actions. She was his angel.
Belle reassured Alexander from the outset that there had never been another man in her life who evoked her passion a fraction as much. But Alexander often mused that any misrepresentation, intentional or not, mattered not in any event. This notion, while silly for many, was a mighty obstacle to overcome for a man as territorial as Alexander. Something about Belle simply did not provoke his jealousy in that way.
For her part, Belle arguably had led a fulfilling life before Alexander because she had never known what she had been missing. She had always thought of herself as content with her handful of relationships with former boyfriends. She was convinced that stories of passion and desire paraded by her girlfriends were mere puffery, if not fantasy meant to promote romance novel sales. With all her past lovers, Belle reasoned that intimacy was not dependent on sexual release. Her genuine affection for her partners could trump a lackluster love life.
But without any appreciation for her circumstances, Belle never pushed for more. Her lovemaking was limited to missionary and on one or two instances, cowgirl. When her lovers came, she was satisfied by the closeness she felt at that moment. Her climaxes were secondary. The industry of pleasuring herself after her lover had finished in a condom. But that all seemed just fine.
When Alexander had inquired about her past, Belle recalled only one occasion where she had taken a man in her mouth. And that was her college boyfriend of three years on a drunken night when she had thought why not. Why not? Surely much better motivations there should have been.
Poor Dave, though. Belle's reminiscence wandered, as it always did when she thought of Dave. An otherwise strapping 6'7" athlete with a shockingly small penis. Still, Dave, as well as the lovers she had since, were never the sexual aggressors, and thus, were never the deliverers of pure sexual satisfaction. But they were all good guys, nice guys. And being plain seemed to suffice.
What a different world indeed.
As her lips parted from Alexander's, Belle could feel the immediate tingling sensation she had come to know reflected her pussy moistening and labia swelling. Readying herself for him. This was the life she was now living. A man whose lightest touch enflamed her loins. All her senses primed to receive him whenever he desired.
Contrasting with other lovers, Belle remembered seeing Alexander's penis for the first time. It seemed so powerfully long and thick even before erection. His balls hung full and virile. She was struck with awe at the sight of his package. Yes, Belle recalled herself swallowing deliberately, her mouth watered with anticipation. She knew from the very first, this man would be different. Not just his body, but now her body, the combination of which would guarantee that.
"Good morning lover," Belle whispered with her hug.
"Good morning yourself," Alexander replied. "Did you have a nice walk on the beach? You were quite the sight."
"Just for you baby. I knew you would enjoy the show. I had the beach all to myself," giggled Belle.
"Yah, too bad the other guests and resort staff failed to get the memo. You know, the one about the early bird gets the worm," Alexander remarked. "You would have been the talk of everyone's day for sure."
"So I take it my see-thru top did the trick." Her right hand confirmed Belle's hopeful suspicion. Tracing Alexander growing erection through his shorts. "You know I cannot resist feeling your package."
Belle held her gaze into Alexander's eyes as she knelt before him. Hooking her thumbs on the waistband of Alexander's shorts, she drew them down with her. His cock allowed to spring free, almost smacking her in the forehead.
Alexander glanced momentarily around to scan for any onlookers before closing his eyes and letting out a contented sigh as Belle ran her tongue over the swollen head of his penis.
A few seconds later, she engulfed his cock. As she withdrew, Belle quipped "Mmm, I can still taste myself on you." As if he could forget how his beautiful wife had ridden him to mutual climaxes before the sun had come up earlier.
Certainly, her technique had been perfected with Alexander, but a perfect technique it was. She knew how to lick his shaft up and down its length, exquisitely bathe the head with her tongue, and take his length fully into her mouth. She would rub his cock all over her lips and cheeks with almost a predatory smile. Her fingers alternating between massaging his balls and gripping and pumping the base of his penis to ensure she would receive his precious fluid. Then, if that wasn't enough, Belle allowed audible moans to escape. The definition of a wanton woman who truly enjoyed giving her lover head.
Amazingly, their lovemaking hardly ever excluded Belle's blowjobs. But far fewer times would Alexander actually finish in her mouth. Like most times in the past, Alexander withdrew from the amazing display of Belle's oral skills. His stiff penis showing no signs of a change in want.
