Dear Readers:
You'd be doing yourselves an injustice if you did not first read the initial installment of this series. Please indulge, and enjoy! Martina, Kim, and I will be sure to entertain you.
It's funny how the genders prepare so uniquely differently for pending , inevitable sexual acrobatics, especially so when the reality of a beautiful third party was about to enter the escapade. Kim spent the next forty minutes or so fussily primping in the bathroom, occasionally emerging to rummage through either the dresser, the closet, or her travel bag to continue a search for just the right wardrobe items, make-up and hair products, and other accessory items.
I sat on the patio, nursing a beer, watching the girls on the boardwalk below, and trying valiantly to fight off recurring erections.
I think guys have it easier in this regard. Good for our team.
Regardless of the dichotomy in our individual preparation techniques, the anticipation of carnal activities was palpable. The room still had the very discernible, sweet aroma of Kim's arousal from our prior foreplay, and my unsuccessful attempts of suppressing my erection and preserving my strength for the events to come were quickly abated when Kim finally appeared from the bathroom and entered the suite.
I felt the butterflies flutter within my stomach in complete synchronicity with the now rising tide within my trunks as I admired Kim and yet her latest display of wanton beauty and sluttiness.
Her golden, silky hair had been brushed to a sheen and fullness, and now cascaded down her torso, some locks dangling between her perfect breasts, now barely covered with the sheerest of a pale blue string bikini top. As she pirouetted and turned her back to me while seductively shaking her tight ass, the rest of her long hair fell just above the cut of a silk, off-white sarong, transparent in the sunlight that filled the room. In her perfectly manicured fingers, she held a device I hadn't yet seen before, though by now, I had been privy to quite an array of her electronic arsenal of pleasure items, or as she referred to them, Weapons of Mass Eruptions.
"Uh, hun, my God, you look incredible!" I hesitated just a second while she smiled broadly at my compliment, and further expressed her gratitude my lifting her sarong to her waist which demonstrated that she was 'sans bottoms'. I smiled in return at this display, but had already made an educated guess that there was nothing beneath the sarong because the sunlight was betraying her little surprise by shining right through the material. "But, uh, gee, what's that thing?" I pointed to the large, pink cock-shaped that she stoked tenderly with her palms.
