Pyramid of Love

It is crazy some of the things we will do when we are young and foolish. On the other hand, as we grow older those are some very fond memories. This is the story of one of my favourite wild adventures; one that few people can claim to have experienced: making love on a cold stone slab on top of a pyramid.

When I was nineteen, I took my wild adventure; bought a one-way plane ticket to Cancun, Mexico and with only a few hundred US dollars in my pocket travelled to a country where I barely spoke the language. During the days I would hang out on the beach at one of the large Western hotels and at night I would fool around with the young man I met there.

On this beach was an interesting edifice. Facing the hotel, it was a well-preserved pyramid; about three stories high. Yet the side facing the beach had long since been destroyed by the wind and sea. From the white beach, it appeared more of a cliff rising out of the sand and waves. There were even wild grasses and bushes growing at odd angles out between the stones.

As we sat one day absorbing the strong Gulf sun and drinking too many beers, one of my boyfriend's mates challenged him to climb up the pyramid. Of course being young and perhaps a tad drunk, he accepted the challenge. What amazes me to this day is that I boldly joined him; given that I have a huge fear of heights.

Like I said, this was not some huge task; perhaps fifty feet high or so, but we were climbing without ropes or any safety gear. My boyfriend happened to be in the British army; stationed in nearby Belize. So he was both in top physical condition and trained in such things. I, on the other hand, was barely one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet and had not been in a gym in over a year. My only claim to regular exercise was the several times a day cardio workout that I got in the form of sexercise with him.

Surprisingly enough the climb really was not that bad. While it was almost a straight ascent up, the stones had worn in such away that there was amply wide purchase for both hands and feet. It took about ten minutes to climb those fifty feet to the ten by ten foot flat square landing at the top of the pyramid. My boyfriend went first and called instructions back to me. I was winded mind you when I reached the top of the climb, but the breath was equally stolen by the view.

From this height, you could look across to the hotel with its glittering bronze metal and glass façade. The pool was actually at the foot of the intact side of the pyramid. We could see guests sipping sweet drinks with funny umbrellas just below us. But it was the beauty of the ocean and its seemingly endless horizon stretching out on the other side that was most magnificent. The yellow sun, white sand and clearest blue waters was a spectacular sight from this perch.

After waving to his friends below to prove that we had made it, we found a large stone slab centred in the middle of the landing. It was about two feet wide by three feet long and about two and a half feet high. It was literally the perfect size and height for lovers; if the male knelt down on the floor it would be the perfect position for entering his mate. This fact did not escape my young lover's notice; as we sat looking across the calm seas he teased me about how many young virgins might have been sacrificed upon this very stone.

As my British boyfriend would say we 'snogged' for a bit. He was an excellent kisser and after a day spent modestly with his friends; I was enjoying the freedom to taste and explore him beyond the reach of their prying eyes. But after about half an hour we heard his drunken friends below shouting for us to join them.

Actually the descent those fifty feet was much more frightening for me. My friend went first again, but with my back to the rocks at times I saw the sand below; seemingly way too far below. More than once I had to stop and force myself to breath slowly as vertigo overtook me. Although he made the downward trek almost as rapidly as his ascent, it took me more than twice as long to descend those three stories.

When my feet touched the soft white sand, I swore I would never do anything so stupid again. Yet barely two days later, we found ourselves walking along this same beach after dark. We had eaten dinner and then decided to walk along the beach; enjoying the warm breeze, tangy smell of the ocean and the new moon high in the sky.

This time I could not even blame alcohol since I had not drunk anything other than Pepsi with my dinner. I was though intoxicated; on this man, my first real love. So when he suggested that we once again climb the rough hewn stone face to the top of the pyramid, I quickly gave into his pleadings. He was quite plain with his plan: we would climb to the top and re-enact the ancient ritual of sacrificing a virgin upon the alter; well the sacrifice of her virginity, not her life.

Actually the dark assisted my climb since it made it more difficult to see the sand below. Of course looking back, I realise how completely stupid it was of us to make such a dangerous climb in the dark without so much as a single safety device or another person even knowing of our intentions. This time though my lover followed me, in case I should slip.

When we reached the top, we took a moment to once again enjoy the view; as breath-taking in the moon light and fluorescent hue of the hotel as it had been in the bright sun-light. Then he slowly began to kiss me and caress my breasts through the soft cotton of my blouse. When we were seated or kneeling we would be blocked from view of those below by the three foot high hedge of stones that surrounded the landing, but standing like we were then we would have been visible to anyone looking up at that moment from the pool or beach below.

My lover was worked up by the fantasy of that moment and in no mood to dally. He pushed me back onto the cold stone slab, as he has said he would. Using his much larger and stronger hands he pinned both my arms above my head. He wrapped both of my wrists in a single hand, using the other one to lift my short skirt. I do not know if he planned this all along, but he had begged me as we got ready for dinner that evening not to wear any underwear.

So my young and trimmed pussy was now exposed to his eyes, and to any of the hotel guests on the floors above us. He then pushed my top up so that my small breasts were also exposed to the warm breeze blowing off of the ocean. My light pink nipples hardened in the night air; perhaps as much from the arousal caused by this risqué adventure. He rose above for a moment just watching me; taking it all in as his fantasy was realised, and my own.

Then he buttoned his jeans and brushed them aside to reveal his thick almost eight inch uncut cock. Over the past few days that cock had become a favourite toy of mine. I had sucked it, fucked it and more than once even wanked it as he said. But it had never looked more perfect than it did in that single moment glistening in the moon light. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning and drawing attention to us.

Then his grip on my wrists tightened as he used his other hand to guide his hard cock into my wet cunt. My bum, bare and pressed as it was against the cold of the stone slab, was a striking contrast to the wet heat we generated as his cock met my soft cunt; invading and conquering. His first thrust was deep and fast. I wanted to cry out as I came, but dared not lest we be discovered.

He pounded away at me for several moments, but we both knew that this must be a quickie; the danger of discovery from those in the hotel was very real. As he approached his orgasm, having given me several of my own during this brief interlude, he bent forward; the hard buttons of his shirt pressing into the sensitive soft flesh of my tits.

His cool crisp British accent tickled across the side of my neck as I strained against the confines of his hand pinning me defenceless beneath his large body. 'How does it feel, little virgin? Your first cock invading you. Do you think the fertility gods will bless us?' With those final words, he slammed deep inside of me; cumming hard and flooding my not quite virgin body with his seed.

We quickly and more than a bit excitedly straightened our clothes; climbing down the rocks to the beach below. As we walked along the beach hand in hand, I felt terribly naughty. A warm trail of our mixed love juices trickled down the insides of my thighs as a silent reminder of this wild and exhilarating adventure.

Over the twenty years since my summer of love as I fondly remember it, I have been asked on more than once occasion, 'what is the strangest place you have ever made love?' I have heard numerous responses; a car, the beach, a hot tub. I have never run into another person, who has said 'the top of an ancient pyramid upon the stone where virgins were sacrificed.'