Island Man

I wake up, fearful I may be feeling the effects of my foray into Bahamian concoctions, and walk gingerly to the bathroom. Hmmm, no headache, no stomach ache, no aches whatsoever . . . except, what's this? There is an ache . . . down there . . . I've been dreaming . . . My Islander . . . oh my! That's not just an ache. That's a deep, inner longing. Oh wow. What a feeling! It's been a long time! (Nothing personal, Honey, but this is definitely something new!)

I walk back to the bedroom, put on my swimsuit (remember, that tan is critical) and tell AJ I'll be out at the pool. Yes, the tan is critical, but since that's the only place I've seen My Islander, that's really what draws me out so early this morning. I lie down on my lounge chair and try to read. I can't concentrate. My eyes are roving the pool and surrounding grounds. Where is he? I just need a glimpse. Just a peek to remember what he looks like . . . all lumberjack-looking with broad shoulders, slim hips, SWEET ASS and just enough of a tummy that I know he'd be hitting my clit if he were slamming his cock inside me (isn't it weird that I thought that?).

Sadly, I spend the entire morning at the pool and while I did acquire more tan, I didn't take care of that longing deep inside. I wander back to the room, do a little work on the computer, then AJ and I head to the ferry to find some lunch and shopping. On the way back, while we're waiting for the ferry, we grab a couple of Yellow Birds at the dockside bar. The ferry pulls up and what do I see? MY ISLANDER! My insides quiver with anticipation. I'm still FAR too vanilla to do anything but look, but OH HOW I LOOK! He's smiling at me already. I'm melting. Oh my gosh, I WANT THIS MAN!

AJ doesn't even notice. How does he miss this? We get to the dock and I don't want to get off the ferry. I see My Islander is just cruising with his friend. He's not getting off. That means he won't be talking to me. He won't be telling me to turn over. He won't be smiling at me. I try to think of some excuse to head back to the port, but nothing comes to mind. I can hardly think, let alone speak. I walk by My Islander and dejectedly climb onto the dock. As we walk down the road to the resort, I can't resist one last look back. He's still smiling . . . quiver!

AJ and I spend some more time at the pool and then remember there's a welcome party down at the pavilion by the ocean. We dress and go down to see what it's all about. I'm still sad that My Islander isn't around, so I sit in my chair and watch the festivities without much enthusiasm. AJ, on the other hand, volunteers to judge the dance contest. I'm watching the dancers when I see My Islander walk up to the other side of the pavilion. Yes! The smile is back on my face. AJ watches the dancers, I watch My Islander. He's watching right back. Oh my, the feelings coursing through my body. I'm tingling with excitement, but still too vanilla to think I'd actually act upon this . . . until the dance competition is over, the party is about to break up and I realize, My Islander is probably going to leave again. I can't let that happen!

I rush over to him without even thinking and tell him he should be out on that dance floor. He smiles that oh-so-delicious smile at me and says he'd take me out there and let me "wine on him". I have no idea what he's talking about, but my brain has caught up with my body and I realize I'm coming on to him . . . and he's coming right back at me. Petrified, I run away. I grab AJ and take him out to the dance floor. I grab his hands and put them on my ass. We dance. I take another look at My Islander. He's grinning from ear to ear and heading my way. Horrors! I can't do it! It's "not right". I grab AJ's hand and take him out to the beach -- away from My Islander.

I tell AJ about my conversation with My Islander and tell him how badly I want that man. He's excited -- again -- but still says no. He explains to me that in the past I've told him I wanted to do something, but then after we do it I feel guilty or regretful. He doesn't want that to happen again. This is too big of a step. I try to convince him it won't happen this time. He's not buying it. But he is loving the conversation and his cock is hard and throbbing, again! What! Twice in one week? That would be a record for us in the past ten years! But, sure enough, he takes me back to the room and, as I continue to try to convince him of my sincerity, he hits all those places in me that are longing for attention . . . we fall asleep in each other arms, spent from our lovemaking and I dream . . .

More later . . .