"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck yes. Oh that's so good, yes! Yes!" Sweat dripped from my neck and rolled down my spine as I arched my back, my eyes on the ceiling, the hotel bedsprings creaking in time with my movements as I bounced up and down, strong hands on my hips guiding me along the hard length that filled me, over and over, pushing deeply into me and pulling out with delicious, wet friction.
"You're so good, you're so good," he moaned, "Take it, take it, fuck, yes." I clenched my hands around my ankles tightly, angling so his cock rubbed inside me at the perfect pitch. I shuddered and moaned loudly, so close to breaking, so close to ecstasy. My body slapped against his as he matched my single-minded efforts with his own thrusts, driving deep inside me. I was desperate for him, desperate to reach that climax that was so close, so close.
"Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Yes. Don't. Stop," I panted. "Don't stop, don't stop," I screamed through gritted teeth, "Don't stop, don't stop, oh God, oh, oh fuck!" The tension that had filled my body shattered like it had been struck with a hammer. I moaned, an inhuman, animal sound, every muscle in my body dissolving into chaotic spasms. I felt like I was going to cry, scream, and laugh all at once, but the only sound that came out was an ecstatic wail.
"Oh God, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum," he said, his tone of voice almost panicky. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He tensed and thrust into me so hard I yelped, his cock twitching violently. We moaned and panted together as our orgasms wrapped around us, our bodies as closely joined as they could possibly be. I collapsed onto him, my head on his shoulder. He kissed my sweat-drenched hair, his arms out at his side. "God, I fucking love you Eleri Mitchell."
Breathing hard, I kissed Dan's chest. "I love you too. Happy anniversary, baby."
***
We sat freshly showered on the patio overlooking the harbour in the late-morning sun, nursing cups of coffee. Waves broke softly in the near distance and seagulls wheeled and called overhead. "Where did that come from, El?" Dan laughed. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."
I looked at him over the rim of my sunglasses. "Well, you just happen to be a very, very sexy man, monsieur," I said in a horrific French accent, "And you create in me a wild desire." That was true, but it wasn't entirely the truth, as it were. My encounter with the mechanic the day before had lit something of a fire. The cold, clear waters of Cardigan Bay had washed away the physical evidence of my little dalliance but couldn't quell the force inside me. I was desperate with lust, and when we'd arrived at our hotel that night I had jumped Dan immediately. Round one had been very good, but round two this morning had been absolutely stellar. Was it some sort of weird guilt-bonding thing? I didn't know, but I wasn't prepared to dig too deeply into the why of the matter. All I knew was that I was feeling ridiculously, almost implacably, horny, a feeling I was only too happy to exercise on my willing husband. I sipped my coffee, my body aching in the nicest possible way.
As we relaxed, my mind drifted. I'd never really had a particularly wild sexual existence. I'd had a couple of boyfriends before I met Dan, and obviously those relationships had been physical, but I hadn't had an adventurous phase when I was younger at all. I'd watched my friends go through it all, but I'd been a pretty withdrawn and serious creature, focused on my studies and my other interests, and relationships had been about stability rather than fun. That's not to say Dan and I hadn't enjoyed ourselves; we absolutely had, and I'd credited him with making me a lot more comfortable with sex in general. This was what puzzled me so much about yesterday. It was like a switch had flipped in my mind that said, 'It's your body, you can use it,' and I had. I wriggled a little in my seat, recalling him inside me. It had felt so good to take charge of myself like that, and Dan was never going to know. Besides, he was definitely reaping the rewards; we'd never had sex like we'd had in the last 12 hours before. I didn't know why this was happening. All I knew was I liked it, and I didn't want to lose it.
***
We spent the day wandering around Aberaeron, then out along the coast a little way before heading back to town. It was so hot that too much outdoor activity didn't seem super-smart, so we just ambled like an old tourist couple, enjoying each other's company. One thing was proving a little tricky for me, and was one of the reasons I suggested heading out into the countryside a bit after walking through town. Almost every man I saw occasioned a little sexual earthquake in me. It was like I'd never seen men before; the waiter at the hotel had me swooning, the cashier at the gift shop made my knees tremble, and the fishermen working on their boats made my bite my lip in sheer raging lust. It was ridiculous, like some mad gate had opened in my mind that had been holding back a herd of wild horses. What's more, I could swear they sensed it too; I felt eyes on me the whole time, flickering over my legs, my butt, my breasts, all of me. It was like I'd been connected to some humming sexual power grid. I kissed Dan at every opportunity I got, trying to channel the energy somewhere without just dragging him back to the hotel again; I was aiming to save the feeling up to unleash upon him this evening.
We stopped at a beachside café to pick up ice creams, then sat on the sea wall with them watching the water. I licked my cone slowly, softly, running my tongue over it, my mind suddenly filling with what I'd wrapped my mouth around yesterday. I felt myself drifting. My tongue felt so good sliding over the smooth ice cream. I wrapped my lips around my teeth to take a little nibble out of it, feeling the tingle of the cold on my skin. A little shudder ran through me. I wanted more. Dan put his hand on my thigh, just under the hem of my dress. The beach was quiet. I moaned quietly in my throat and, without looking at me, without giving anything away at all, he slid his hand higher up my leg, under my dress. I licked the ice cream again, lasciviously. His fingers toyed with the lace of my knickers, slipping underneath to find me excruciatingly wet. I took a bigger bite, this time with some of the cone included, feeling it crack deliciously against my bottom teeth, the cold ice cream slipping down my throat. Dan's finger found my clit and started to circle it lightly, ever so lightly, barely a touch. I shuddered as the feeling rippled through me, my calves tightening. He kept going, light as a zephyr. I moaned quietly, watching as a broad-shouldered man with amazing curly hair ran into the water. 'I wonder what he tastes like,' I thought as Dan pressed a little harder, eliciting a shiver and a moan. 'I wonder what he'd feel like inside me.' I gasped, the combination of Dan's touch and my racing mind nudging me closer to a climax. I couldn't, surely, not here. My body certainly felt like it could, little crackles of pleasure running up and down my limbs, across my belly. I dug my tongue deep into the ice cream, levering out a sizeable amount and letting it melt in my mouth. Dan kept going and I felt it starting, not earth-shattering like in the morning but still real, deep, grounded in my abdomen, a rhythmic shuddering building slowly. I imagined myself lying on my back as the curly-haired stranger screwed me, fantasising about his hips plunging his cock in and out of me as my fingers gripped the bedsheets tightly. I breathed in tightly through my teeth, right on the edge, and at the moment my composure collapsed I turned to Dan and kissed him, hard, my hands on either side of his face, my ice-cream-cold tongue in his mouth, moaning as my body convulsed as unnoticeably as I could manage.
Dan withdrew his hand to my knee and I broke the kiss, biting his lip softly. "You're naughty, you are," I said, grinning at him.
He smiled back. "It felt like the right thing to do; I've literally never seen anyone eat an ice cream like that before in my life. Seriously, it was unreal."
I laughed. "You know I love rum and raisin."
Dan laughed so hard he coughed. "Apparently so." I kissed him. He tasted like raspberry ripple.
***
The sun was low in the sky, the air still holding the warmth of the day, as we sat on the terrace with a couple of beers. A sign behind us announced that Friday nights were disco nights and, feeling footloose and fancy free, we'd decided that we were up for a slice of that action. We barely got to go out at home. It was one of those things we always said we'd do, but then the weekend would come around and we'd both be so wiped out from work that we'd end up just ordering some food and watching a film instead. I wasn't complaining, but they were serving a party on a plate here and it felt silly to pass up the opportunity.
We'd had a little dinner and got changed when we got back from the beach, Dan into a very nice dark blue shirt and stone-coloured chino shorts with deck shoes, and me into a little black party dress with sequins and a tasselled mid-thigh hem, finished off with some black heels. He'd looked at me when I'd pulled the outfit out of the bottom of the suitcase with a hint of confusion. "I didn't know you were bringing anything so party-hearty," he'd said.
I'd laughed. "Well, you never know when there's going to be a shindig," I'd replied, "And hey, I got it right!" He'd watched me with hungry eyes as I'd slipped it over my naked body; I'd caught his look and said, faux-innocent, "What? It just hangs so much better with nothing underneath." Then I'd flashed him a wicked grin. He'd come over, running his hands down my hips, feeling my curves. I'd placed a finger on his lips. "Nuh uh," I'd taunted gently. "Later." I was loving this new power I'd unlocked, and particularly loving the fact that Dan was responding to it in kind. I fully intended to show him my appreciation when we got back to the bedroom later.
The terrace got busier as we gazed at the ocean, music starting to insistently throb in the bar behind us. I hadn't been to a West Walian disco in about 15 years and my nostalgia was something fierce. Dan had always been sceptical, typical city boy that he was, but I maintained that far-flung little places like this partied harder than your cool-kid places in town. Now that I sat in both worlds, a former local on holiday, I could feel the excitement building as the bar filled with people. "I finally get to show you how we shake it out here in the country," I said to him, grinning.
He looked at me over the rim of his glass. "All ready to party over to down by there, are we?" he said, provoking a stagey eye-roll from me as he did the classic English mockery of Welsh syntax. I stuck my tongue out at him. "All right." He drained his beer. "Let's go and see what you've got."
The bar was sweaty, half-lit, crammed, bass reverberating through every surface. The huge west-facing windows gave an incredible view of the sun sinking closer and closer towards the horizon. We were on the edge of the dancing throng, sort of scoping out the feel of the party. Dan was behind me, his non-drinking hand wrapped around my waist as we swayed to the music, our bodies pressed against each other. I was watching the crowd, all the beachy country people dressed up for fun. Groups of women in tight dresses and heels and lads in suits mixed with more surf-y, chilled out people, girls in tank tops and denim skirts, men in sandals, linen shirts and beaded bracelets. We danced, my roving horniness burning away within me. I was very aware of the shape I cut in my dress, very aware of the many eyes that flickered over me, sizing me up. I felt tingly all over, from my skin to the very centre of my being, humming with sexual energy.
Dan leaned in close to my ear. "I'm just going to head to the bar, don't you go anywhere." He kissed my neck.
I leaned my head back and pressed into him. "Don't worry, I'll be right here," I replied. I turned around and kissed him, then he moved off through the crowd. I kept swaying with the beat, my eyes closed, just enjoying the freedom. When I opened my eyes again I spotted the curly haired man from the beach, his half-open shirt and board shorts look topped off with a jaunty straw hat; it shouldn't really have worked, but on him it truly, absolutely did. Our gazes connected and he smiled at me. I smiled back, friendly. To my surprise, he started to dance his way over in my direction. My heart raced.
"Hey there," he called over the music as he approached, incorporating a genial wave into his dance.
I waved back and laughed. He looked ridiculous, but it was quite charming on him. "Hi!" I shouted.
