Rachels Trip To Jamaica Ch 02

Rachael witnesses a wife cheating on the beach.

Rachel's description of her time on the neighbouring beach had been quite graphic. It was a couple of days later before I got her alone again. This time, she was not so open about what had happened during her last two days in Jamaica. She spent the first half hour trying to convince me how what had happened was a one-off and that she intended never to let it happen again. I think she was embarrassed by how much she had already admitted to me.

It took my best interrogating skills over the following week to get some idea of what had happened on the last two days of her holiday. So, the story from here on is based more on conjecture and my imagination than facts.

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Rachael came from a staunch Catholic family with two older sisters and two brothers, one older and one younger. Her eldest sister was a nun, and sister two was a teacher. The family went to church every Sunday; she did not think she had missed a day until she left for England. And even in London, she had only missed church on a few Sundays.

As for sex, Rachael had been a virgin until the night before she departed for England. And it was only her being very drunk at her farewell party that had led to her lack of resistance that night. She could not remember much about that first time but was adamant it had been nothing special.

And in London, she thought the sex with her boyfriend had been special at times. But it did not even come close to the highs she had felt in Jamaica. Her London boyfriend had only managed to make her climax a dozen times in the year and a half they had dated. She did masturbate, but seldom, as it was frowned upon by her friends and family.

She explained that her mind had been in a mess when she woke the morning after her trip to the neighbouring bay. The conflicting emotions had her aflame with desire one minute, and then she was thinking about the disgust her family and friends would feel if they ever got a hint of what she had done.

Rachel told me that after breakfast, she went to the beach to get a bit more sun and read her book. But she was restless, and her nervous energy made it impossible for her to lie still for long, so she went for a walk. During the walk, she decided she would not meet up with Arley. She decided she would book a tour somewhere so that if Arley did turn up and make a scene, she would not be around to see it.

So she walked down to the front desk and asked about booking a day trip. The desk girl handed her some brochures, and in the first one she opened, she saw a photo of some local guys in a culture group. The photo instantly brought back memories of the day before. When the desk girl piped up that there was only one more tour for the day, leaving at 1:00 pm, she realised that was too late, and she decided she would front up and meet with Arley.

Rachael returned the brochures to the girl and went to her room to get prepared. Looking at the time, she saw she had a couple of hours to kill, so she decided to shower and make herself up. She massaged some nice-smelling body cream over herself, and then, checking herself in the mirror, she took stock of her hairy bush.

Deciding she needed to tidy herself up, she searched out the packet of razors she kept for doing her legs and a pair of small nail scissors. Her boyfriend had pushed her to shave many times, but she had always declined, worried about what people would think of her if they saw her at the gym, etc., with a shaved vagina.

As she perched over the hand basin and took to her bush with the scissors, she attempted to validate her actions; she told herself that no one would judge her here and that her pubes would be grown back in a couple of weeks anyway. As she trimmed, she decided to shave it all off except for a little speed stripe just above her slit.

Back in the shower, she stretched her labia and manipulated them to remove every remaining hair. By the time she was satisfied, she was horny. And when she dried off and stood in front of the mirror again, she saw that she was leaking a creamy white discharge down her legs.

Knowing that if she dealt with herself, she'd have to shower again, Rachael resisted the urge to masturbate and, after a quick wipe, set about deciding what she should wear. She decided on her flowing cotton skirt that sexily wrapped itself around her legs and buttocks. She had worn this on the plane but had it washed since. With this, she chose a white blouse that she seldom wore on its own, as it showed a lot of her cleavage. Then she searched out her best white bra and panties set, a little anxious at the thought she was unlikely to see her panties again. But simultaneously, her face flushed red when she thought about that eventuality.

She checked the time and saw she had an hour before Arley would arrive. So, throwing her bikini and a couple of resort beach towels into her beach bag, she headed for the bar and ordered a double rum and coke. She was nervous and needed some Dutch courage.

At the bar, some older guy approached her, his lecherous gaze running over her body set her into a spate of giggles. The ludicrousness of his approach had set her off. When you wanted a man, there were none to be found; when you didn't, they just popped out of the woodwork.

The barman saved her. He handed her a note saying that Arley was outside waiting for her. Downing the drink way too fast, she walked out to the front gate to find Arley sitting there on his beat-up motorbike. He took her beach bag from her and placed it between his knees while motioning her to climb on behind him.

Pulling the long skirt above her knees, she flung her leg over the seat. Arley turned and winked at her with a wicked grin on his face. He told her to get herself comfortable. It seemed to be a silly comment until, settling onto the seat, she found her already squishy pussy, placed on top of a sizeable bulge.

With a squeal of alarm, she asked, "What is that?"

"A piece of rubber tube," he grinned back at her. "Wait till I get the revs up; it should get you off."

Then before she could complain, he dropped the bike into gear, revved the crap out of it and took off. The trip to his hut was exhilarating. He drove too fast, weaving in and out of the traffic. The danger and the vibrations between her legs had her squirming around on the bump and thrusting her thighs hard against his bum.

When they arrived at his hut, Rachael couldn't get off the bike quickly enough. She wanted that huge cock of his with some urgency; that bloody bulge on the seat had done the job. Once through the door, she realised they were on their own and was unsure if she was relieved or disappointed that Tyrone and Bob were not there.

She turned and flung her arms around Arley's neck and ground her hips onto his leg to let him know how urgently she wanted him. But he pulled back, saying he was not allowed to touch her today, as his boss had told him to leave her alone.

"Fuck your boss, I'm horny. If you don't want me, I'll have to go down the beach and find someone else," she replied, turning towards the bed.

Climbing slowly onto the bed, she seductively waved her backside in his direction and was relieved when she felt his nervous hand touch her butt. She shivered and stopped moving, allowing his hand to stroke and caress her. She knew she had him when his hand slid between her legs and pressed against the crotch of her panties. She writhed her butt around again, getting worked up, knowing he would be feeling how wet she was. His finger traced the length of her slit; the soft but reinforced fabric of her panties deadened but didn't entirely stop her from the sensation of his touch.

She looked over her shoulder, watching him strip, and bit her lip to stop him from hearing her longing gasp as his now-hardening cock popped free of his shorts. She still did not comprehend how she had managed to accommodate all of him the day before.

She stayed on all fours, arching her back and bracing herself as he climbed over her. He had no time for four-play. He just flicked her dress up onto her back, pulled her panties to the side, and thrust himself deep inside her. She was astonished to find there was little resistance nor any pain.

When his teeth started nipping on her ears and neck, and his fingers found her nipples and tweaked them hard, she pushed hard back onto him, behaving like a dirty little slut. Arousal growing fast, she wanted all of him, roughly and quickly. Her orgasm was building, and she knew it would rival those she had had the day before.

Dropping a hand down to her newly shaved cunt, his fingers trailed over her bare mound and peeled back the folds covering her clit. He took the little nub between his finger and thumb and frigged it like he would a penis.

Rachael tried to get her legs wider apart. A hard hunger had her hips hammering back against his every thrust, driving her towards a massive climax. Using only one hand to support herself, she reached down with the other to grasp his shaft, wanting to experience the feel of it slipping in and out of her drenched cunt.

Then as her orgasm came upon her, he pushed a finger into her arse. Rachael had never had anyone finger her there, and she had to release the hold of his cock and support herself with both hands as her body began to shake violently with her climax.

Yelling, "Hard, harder," she pressed herself back against his thrusts, screaming out every dirty swearword she had ever heard. Then, she rolled onto her back, waiting for what seemed like an eternity before her orgasm subsided, and she caught enough breath to be able to speak.

"Who is your boss? And why does he not want you to make love to me?" she gasped.

"His name is Aden. You met him yesterday; he carried your lunch down with you to your towel. I think he has something planned for you. You are to meet him and his wife for dinner tonight."

She looked at him, not understanding.

"You know what I do, don't you?"

"I have no idea. I don't remember you telling me anything about yourself."

"I'm an escort. Aden arranges for me to meet up with women and show them a good time," Arley said, looking a bit apprehensive about telling her this.

Suddenly, the whole day flooded into perspective. The waiter's telling her about the beach, the good-looking Jamaicans hanging around the beach bar, their comments--everything fell into place.

"Am I expected to pay you then? I feel like I've been taken advantage of."

"No! It's not like that. You were never part of any plan, not with me anyway. You are nothing like the women I escort."

She slumped back on the bed, thinking what a fool she had been and how dirty it made her feel.

Arley held her tight, "Please don't feel terrible; I think of you as my girlfriend and only want to make you happy."

She lay in his arms, sorting through her feelings. Slowly, she came to the conclusion that all that had happened was pretty exciting and that she would be leaving the day after next and would never see any of them again.

"Tell me about your job. Everything I want to try and understand," Rachael asked him.

He explained that many older women came to Jamaica to experience sex with a well-hung black man. They were usually widows, mostly between forty and sixty. There were younger women sometimes, but the youngest he had ever been with was thirty-eight, and her husband was with her. I asked him what was the eldest he had.

"In her seventies, I think," he replied.

"What do they pay you?"

"I never get paid by the women; Aden handles all that side of things."

Then, he went on to tell her that they paid US$200.00 for a day. But there were many extras; some would hire an escort for more than one day, and the odd one ordered two escorts. She enquired about the extras, and he told her they did videos and photographs, even took them to bars and clubs, and all that was extra.

Rachael was instantly alarmed, "So that is why you took photos of me yesterday?"

"No! They were for me. I promise you, no one else will ever see them. But I can give you copies if you want. The film is with our photography guy. He handles it all in-house, so the photos do not go astray. It would be bad for business if photos were to turn up somewhere."

She asked why no other ladies were on the beach the day before, and he explained that it was very erratic when they had clients. He explained that if it was a busy day, he might have two clients, or they may go a couple of weeks and not have anyone. But he said, "Usually, I get one or two per week." Then he went on to explain that Andy had six permanent guys and other men and women that he could call on.

"Women," Rachael exclaimed. "Why would you need women?"

"Now and again, the ladies request a threesome. Usually, it is with guys, but sometimes, they ask for it to be a couple. I have known a husband and wife to book with Aden, and they wanted a partner each. But that has not happened much. It is almost always older women."

She asked him how he got into this line of work and what his credentials were as if she hadn't already guessed! He explained that all the guys had to be presentable, over six feet, well endowed, and it helped if they spoke another language. He said he spoke very good French, as his mother had been French. But he said not all the six guys employed at present spoke a second language, which was not a problem, as 90% of the women they looked after were American.

"Do any of the guys have a client today?"

"We call them Rides or Tricks. And yes, Razor has an American lady this afternoon."

"Razor?"

"He keeps his hair short and shaves a part down the left side with a cutthroat razor that he's always waving about like some gangster."

"Can we go down to the beach and watch? I'd like to see what a woman that pays for sex looks like."

"Sure!" Arley replied. Then he told her she might be lucky as he thought Micheal, their photography guy, might be filming at the beach. They had been trying a new service: selling videos to their clients. Rachael asked how much that cost.

"I'm not sure, but quite expensive, I think. Andy bought Michael a flash new video-8 camcorder, and the clients get to take a tape home. Do you want one?"

She spluttered out a "No," shocked at the thought of being filmed.

They got dressed, Rachael minus her knickers, of course. Arley commandeered these and put them under his pillow. They walked down to the beach bar, where Arley asked if she wanted a drink. He motioned to her to sit with the three escorts by the window.

The guys slid aside and offered her a chair between them. They openly checked her out, hungry looks on their faces, as her skirt and blouse were clinging to the contours of her body, making no secret that she did not have any panties on. Rachael would have been annoyed at this leery attention in any other situation. But here in a tropical bar, with three hunky guys she knew would be hung like stallions, their looks had her body heating up and her juices flowing again.

Checking them out, she noted that none had a razor-trimmed parting in their hair and asked them where Razor was. They told her he had gone to pick up his ride and should be back soon. Then Chris (the other two had introduced themselves as Cassius and Marcus) pointed out the window at a couple talking with a buff guy on the beach.

"That's Frank, but we call him Horse. The couple with him are asking about buying some Jolly Green." Chris explained.

Rachael let out a shocked gasp. It was Stephanie and Marty, the couple who had sat with her at dinner the night before.

At that moment, Arley rolled up with a lime and lemon drink for her, and she explained to him that she needed to hide, as she knew the couple walking towards the bar with Frank.

"I sat with them at dinner last night, and they weren't impressed when I said I'd been to this beach. Well, the wife wasn't anyway," she blurted out.

Arley turned to the guys and asked what was going on. They said they thought the woman wanted some action but had gotten her husband over here on the premise that he would buy some pot for the rest of their holiday.

Arley asked why they thought she was after some action. Chris replied that Pete over at the resort had told Aden he might have a client for them, as a woman at the resort had been showing much interest in what happened at the beach.

The way they talked, Rachael realised that Pete was a room boy at the resort.

Marcus piped up, "Aden told us this morning that Pete had told him the woman only asked him about the beach when her husband was not there. He didn't think the husband knew what happened at the beach, but the wife was very aware, evidently having been given all the gossip from a girlfriend that had visited."

Chris chipped in that she had balked at the costs and tried to barter with Pete. "Then yesterday she asked Pete about buying Marijuana. So we figure that this is the woman Aden told us about."

Arley took command. He began barking orders to the others, "Cassius, go and get your bike. Drive the husband over to Bobby's in Rollington Town, let him try out some different mixes and get him well stoned. It should take you over thirty minutes each way, but ride slowly and extend that out as much as possible. See if you can give Horse a couple of free hours with her."

Then Arley asked if Michael had the Camcorder set up today, and receiving confirmation that he did, he hustled Rachael out the back door just as Stephanie and Marty stopped out front. He turned right and walked Rachael down to the end of the beach, where they followed a track into the dunes and stopped beside a beat-up van.

Arley banged on the side door, which opened to reveal a young, thin guy wearing glasses. Rachael didn't need to be told this was Michael. He looked like she had envisioned him, with long, frizzy hair and nerdy looks.

They climbed in. The guys had to stoop a little, but Rachael found she could stand up straight. The glass in the rear doors had been removed, and a canvas blind hung in their place. She stepped around a large camcorder on a tripod and lifted the corner of the canvas.

The van was parked behind a dune, and although she had a good view of the beach, you would only see a foot or so of the van's roofline if you were standing down on the beach. And as the Camcorder was set well back, a person would have to look carefully to know they were being filmed.

Rachael immediately asked Michael if he had been here filming the day before. He replied without hesitation, "No. There were no customers yesterday."

She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to see Arley lifting some binoculars to his eyes. Looking down the beach, he said, "Good, Cassius is talking with the couple. Here, take a look." He handed Rachael the binoculars. She took them from him and explained to Arley that the couple's names were Stephanie and Marty.

Focusing on Stephanie, she could see her indicating to her husband that he should go with Cassius. Marty was resisting, clearly not wanting to leave his wife alone on the beach. It was quite easy to read their lips, and she noted the wife getting angry and insisting that she would be safe here sunbathing and reading her book. Reluctantly, Marty walked off, glancing back every few steps, obviously not too keen on leaving her, especially with Horse at her side. Rachael kept watching until they disappeared behind the beach bar; then, as she turned her attention back to Horse and Stephanie, she heard a motorbike roar away down the road.

Marcus appeared from the bar, and another argument developed. This time, Stephanie settled the argument by drawing some notes from her purse and handing them over.

Rachael turned to Arley and Michael, "Tight bitch, she acted all high and mighty with me but now is here haggling over the price."