A perfect spring morning, although everyday in the Caribbean was perfect. 72 degrees, sun just coming up over the deserted beach and two miles of vacant sand for her to walk on. Wearing nothing but a flimsy white cover-up, she strolled along the crystal clear water's edge.
As she neared the resort area, which would be inhabited by thousands of cruise ship passengers in about two hours, she felt that familiar ache between her legs. She wasted no time.
She lay on one of the many vacant hammocks at the beach. With her eyes closed, listening to the quiet waves hitting the sandy beach, she traced her finger lightly through the small manicured patch of hair between her legs. She felt her nipples harden as she aroused herself. She opened her eyes to see them poking at the thin white fabric, which aroused her further.
She lifted her knees and allowed her fingers to lightly trace the outside of her growing wetness, the hem of her cover-up slipping to her waist in the process. Within minutes she had parted the lips and began rubbing the now flowing wetness firmer.
As her arousal grew, so did her adventurousness. She looked around cautiously then pulled her cover-up to her neck, exposing her breasts to the warm Caribbean sun. She was loving this. The freedom of being so alone and free, and most definitely being on the beach.
She was grabbing herself now, first one, then her two middle fingers pushing their way inside. Her left hand was squeezing her left breast firmly and now pinching the very erect nipple. She was not far from erupting when she heard the noise.
She looked over her shoulder to the left and saw him standing by the little tiki hut. Tall and slender, dark salt and pepper hair. His swim suit was puddled around his ankles and he was holding his hard cock in his right hand.
