My first attempt at erotic fiction, so feedback welcome. They say you should write about what you know -- this is inspired by a true story...
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"Here we are -- home, sweet home," announced Amber as the car pulled up out the front of a battered old caravan down the far end of the park.
"Looks great," I said, getting out of the back seat. "Homely. Looks like it hardly would leak at all in a storm."
"Well you can quite happily sleep in the car if it's not up to your standards," Amber shot back with a smile. "It's been in my family for years, and never once had any problems."
"Fair enough!" I headed towards the entrance, following Cath up into the van. We were on Stradbroke Island, an hour's ferry ride from Brisbane at the beginning of a weekend that I'd never forget. It'd already been a fun start. Cath and Amber had knocked off work early and got to the island about lunchtime. I'd made my own way from Brisbane, and on the boat ride over had bumped into an old work colleague and her two girlfriends. When Cath and Amber met me at the dock there was plenty of good-natured ribbing about my ability to chat up three hot blonde girls in the space of a short ferry ride.
The three of us were colleagues in a government department. Amber was a super-confident, bubbly 18 year old trainee, Cath was a junior officer who had only been with us a few months and I - at least until our real boss got back from a secondment -- was her manager. We all got on pretty well, and when Amber suggested a weekend in her parents' van Cath and I didn't need much convincing.
Stepping into the caravan, it was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. It was one of those vans that's not meant to be moved -- a trailer home style of thing. There was a kitchen/dining space as soon as you came in, and off to the left was a doorway opening into the bedroom with a double bed at one end and a single bed at the other. The bathroom was the toilet block back towards the caravan park entrance.
The girls had been busy since they'd arrived, and dinner was just about ready so I cracked open a bottle of wine, poured us each a glass and kicked back, easily slipping into holiday mode.
"So, those girls on the boat were cute," Cath said, settling into a chair as Amber served up. "Any plans to catch up with them this weekend?"
"Nah," I replied. "Not really my type. I mean, yeah they were cute, but I've never been a big fan of blondes. Dark-haired women are more alluring, I reckon."
"Alluring? That's an interesting word. Are you sure you don't mean 'fuckable'?"
I blushed slightly -- I blush quite easily. Both Cath and Amber had dark hair. Cath's was almost black, while Amber's was a deep brown. "Well, it's not just about sex, you know. I mean, sexiness is more than just whether someone's attractive. It's about the air of mystery, and I reckon brunettes have it over blondes in the mystery stakes."
"Good answer," said Amber bringing plates to the table. "Now let's eat."
A few drinks later, and the talk had turned back to matters sexual. "I think I'm going to dump Jeremy when we get back from this trip," said Amber. "He's a nice enough guy, but a bit of a dud root. That's the trouble with 19 year old boys. They act too much like 19 year old boys. All talk and no action. Or at least, no action that lasts for longer than about two minutes."
"There's nothing wrong with being single, Amber," Cath said supportively. "And being single certainly doesn't mean an end to the action. Rick and I have been fuck buddies for a while now, and it's working just fine. Well, blowjob buddies more than fuck buddies. I don't let him fuck me, but I love giving head and he loves receiving so that works out OK."
"But how do you get off if you don't fuck?" Amber asked. "Does he finger you or something?"
"No, I usually have a wank when I get home. I close my eyes and remember what his cock smelled like as I slipped it out of his boxers and held it close to my face. Then I get my dildo and pretend it's his cock and suck on it. When I've made it wet I fuck myself with it and picture the best bit -- the way he grabs my hair in his hands and pulls it when he's really turned on, just before he cums."
"Swallow or spit?" Amber asked.
"Actually, I like it when a guy cums on my face, so I'm more of a 'wipe' girl usually."
I have to say, I didn't quite know how to react. Although I've had a fairly adventurous sex life, I've never been one to talk about it much. Not even with my good mates, let alone a couple of work colleagues. So I'm always slightly shocked -- even if quite turned on -- when someone does talk quite freely about what they get up to. I shifted slightly to move my hard on a bit further under the table and out of sight, poured another glass of wine and muttered something that probably sounded quite stupid.
Later on, when Cath was talking about how her and a girlfriend were busted fucking each other on a friend's couch, I nearly came in my pants.
I woke up on Saturday morning in the single bed with a kicking hangover and no recollection of the end of the evening. Over a fried breakfast, I was told that I'd passed out about a bottle of wine later and the girls had put me to bed. Fully clothed, unfortunately, so clearly there'd been no funny business. But I wasn't surprised, or particularly disappointed. Cath and Amber were both cute, and I wouldn't have said no to either of them, but I had genuinely come away on the weekend without intentions of trying to get them in the sack. I was pretty sure that a manager screwing a subordinate was fairly high on the things-it's-a-bad-idea-to-do-list, and at 32 there was enough of an age difference with Amber and 23 year old Cath that I felt just slightly like a dirty old man for thinking about it.
After breakfast, we agreed that the best cure for a hangover is a swim. Off to the beach we went! It was perfect weather, with a few white clouds breaking up the brilliant blue of the late spring morning and a the surf rolling rhythmically off the Pacific Ocean. And a great chance for me to check out the girls in their swimmers. Cath's breasts nicely filled out her black bikini top -- a C-cup I reckoned. Her bottoms rode up into her bum crack just enough to give rise to tantalising thoughts of what they were covering. Amber had opted for a pastel yellow number that went well with her pale skin, although it seemed she'd bought it a size too small from the way she was almost spilling out of her top. One big wave in the surf and I figured I'd be copping a pretty nice view!
The morning passed pleasantly enough. There was plenty of eye candy on the beach apart from my holiday companions -- everywhere I looked there seemed to be long legs, tanned skin and enough curves to satisfy the most jaded voyeur. We three splashed about, and I had ample opportunity to admire the way the water cascaded from Cath's long hair, and the way her breasts bounced every time a wave washed over them. And, yes, Amber got dumped in the surf and nearly lost her bikini top, just managing to grab it before the water washed it away. The sight of the her luscious breasts with water running down them and her nipples erect from the cold of the water was the highlight of my trip so far.
We spent the afternoon kicking back in a pub overlooking the ocean, chatting away, getting drunk in a very mellow, chilled out way, and me idly thinking about licking salty water from large breasts. As the sun started to sneak towards the horizon, we decided to pull up stumps and head back to the caravan park for a BBQ.
