“Okay, I gwine start organisin’.”
After a last look at whether anyone was coming up the gap and seeing no one, I followed her inside feeling more wretched than I had felt in a long time.
Frustrated, I roughly pulled on my bikini bottoms after having already put on the top, glanced at myself in the mirror, then slipped on a t-shirt and shorts. It was just my luck to find a man who had given me the best sex I’d ever had, and then not gotten an opportunity to see him again. Bloody typical!
I was leaving tomorrow afternoon and would be at the beach all day today, so I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen. I wondered whether he’d had his fill and was finished with me. I was so disappointed that I would have liked to stay at home and sulk, but my aunt had invited many people and the cook-up was, effectively, in my honour, so I tried to ignore my feelings and enjoy the day.
It was a beautiful day, there would be lots of food and drink, maybe that’s how it was supposed to be—go home with memories of one great passionate sexual encounter. It definitely wasn’t something I’d be able to replicate when I got home—the environment or the man—so maybe I could just recall it the next time I found myself enduring sex with a guy who couldn’t boast of the same talents as Wildman.
The veranda was packed with numerous pots, tubs, bags and containers waiting to be loaded onto the truck that would be coming to pick us up. As usual with these things, there was an open invitation so I expected to meet many people I’d never met before. It might be fun.
Only fifteen minutes after I got ready, the truck arrived, complete with blaring soca music. I avoided all the fuss of loading the beach related paraphernalia and went outside when it was done to find there were a few people sitting in the back.
I greeted the group as a whole and the replies merged into one, with the exception of a deep voice that stood out from the rest.
“G’mornin’, Miss Jeanette.”
In the corner by the cab sat Wildman, one sculpted arm stretched out along the side of the truck. I couldn’t climb up quick enough.
Shyly, I smiled at him before sitting in the space in front of where his arm rested, disappointed that I wasn’t in a position to shove my tongue in his mouth.
“Jeanette? You don’ wan’ sit in the cab?” my aunt asked after locking the front door and approaching the truck.
“No thanks, I’m all right here.”
Nodding, she got into the front.
I was elated and did my best to keep a straight face when, at various times during the journey, his fingers outlined shapes on my back, teasing me with his light touch and sending a wondrous feeling shooting through my body, making my nipples tingle. I could feel them becoming erect and prayed they wouldn’t show through my clothes. We barely spoke except to exchange the same pleasantries as the others on board, and still I felt as if everyone was watching us, that they all knew what we’d done. However, whenever I was brave enough to look around, all I saw was people taking part in their various conversations or watching the world go by, not paying us any particular attention at all.
I couldn’t wait to get to the beach. I hadn’t been to Bathway in so long, I couldn’t remember whether it had any areas that were sufficiently secluded to enable us to get any privacy. I could only hope.
The long journey seemed to take no time at all and I found it easy to slip away with Wildman when the others were deciding where to set up the fire for the massive pot in which the food would be cooked.
Initially, so as not to arouse suspicion, we sat together in the sand a little way from the spot that was eventually chosen, where everyone could see us.
“Yuh did start worryin’?”
Thinking that saying ’yes, I desperately want you to fuck me before I leave’ wasn’t appropriate, I just smiled shyly and shrugged.
“I been real busy—nuff tourists just fly in, but mi wan’ see yuh jus’ before yuh leave, so yuh ‘ave some nice memories to tek home.” The man was a mind reader.
“Thank you, that’s very considerate.” I grinned before listening to his plan for the next day.
He wanted me to sneak out of the house, before dawn, and meet him so he could take me to his place. Just the idea of carrying out his plan was exhilarating and I was instantly turned on by thinking about what we could get up to. Not bothering to think about whether it would be possible or what my aunt would do if she caught me, I agreed. It had to be done. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity pass me by.
“Let’s go in da water,” he said, taking off his vest.
“Do we have to?” I was enjoying lying there in the sun, talking to him, daydreaming about the next day, wondering what would happen in the confines of his house, whether his stamina would be too much for me.
“Yuh at de beach, yuh mus’ let da water touch yuh skin.”
“I can’t swim.”
“I’ll look after you,” he said, helping me up before watching me, with a twinkle in his eye, as I undressed to my bikini.
“Mmm,” he looked at me approvingly before we walked into the sea.
I waded up to my calves before he turned his back to me and firmly held my legs after I accepted the piggyback, taking me further into the water. I held him tight, relishing the feel of my skin against his and running my hands over his biceps before squeezing them as soon as the water provided sufficient cover. In response, he ran his hand back along my thigh and pulled aside the material covering my pussy and slid his finger inside me.
I tightened my grip on him as I sighed contentedly in his ear, desperately wanting to kiss his neck but scared someone would see me. Instead, I rubbed the heel of my foot against his growing erection, longing to feel it inside me.
“Is there anywhere we can go?”
“Nah, too many people around, yuh cyan’t wait ‘til tomorrow?”
“I don’t want to,” I whined.
He chuckled before squeezing my buttock and grabbing my arm to pull me around to face him. Quite fearful of the depth of the water, I kept a tight hold of his shoulders and looked into his eyes as he slipped his hand back into my bikini bottoms, rubbing my clit as he squeezed my bum with the other hand. Despite my fear, I felt compelled to touch him and wrapped one arm around his neck, my face close to his. I slid my hand into the elasticised waistband of his long shorts, smiling as I wrapped my fingers around the stiff cock that had made me so euphoric.
I wanted to kiss him and glanced up at the shore, noting that we were quite far out, but still not prepared to risk it. Instead, I firmly glided my hand up and down his shaft, gradually increasing in speed as his finger pumped harder into my pussy, his thumb massaging my clit.
I moaned with the pleasure he was making me feel and I watched as he soon closed his eyes, grunting as I continued to work on his cock. Within a few minutes, he leaned his head back and groaned as he climaxed, his body shuddering. He looked so good. I cupped his balls in my hand and gently squeezed them as his ecstasy subsided and he pumped his finger faster, determined to bring me to orgasm. He didn’t have to work hard.
“Oh…oh.” Conscious of where I was, I had to restrain myself for fear of being too loud, but the intense feeling didn’t change. My nipples tingled as my pussy muscles tightened around his finger.
When I opened my eyes, he was looking into them, smiling.
“Yuh too bad, yuh nah!”
I laughed as he grabbed my waist and pushed me past him to get on his back, which I duly did, holding tight as he returned me to the shore.
The rest of the day was brilliant. I had a lot of fantastic food, had a few drinks and had a few laughs with a lot of nice people. I had a really good time. I couldn’t be sure that I would have had such a good time if Wildman hadn’t been there, but that wasn’t something I had to worry about because he was there. There were times throughout the day when we would catch each other’s eye and exchange small smiles, leaving me wondering whether he was as excited about our imminent encounter as I was. It
was impossible to tell, but I figured that it was his idea so he must be keen. Unable to help myself, I continually took sly glances at him whenever I could. His body was a work of art…I couldn’t wait to get on it.
Although I knew I should have done, I didn’t go to sleep. I probably wouldn’t have been able to if I tried. I had told him I would meet him at the bottom of the gap at three a.m., and the anticipation was enough to keep tiredness at bay.
As soon as the time came, I successfully crept out of the house without alerting my aunt and quickly trotted down to find him standing exactly where he said he’d be.
With nothing resembling streetlights, I couldn’t see a thing and he held my hand in the darkness while I wondered how he managed to see where he was going. We didn’t say a word to each other during the short journey, a situation that I was quite pleased by—we knew what was going to happen and were comfortable enough to walk silently, each of us contemplating what was to take place in the rest of the morning.
It didn’t take long to get back to his small, wood built house.
Inside his bedroom, he put on a lamp and I stood looking up at him in the soft light, waiting for him to make a move.
“I bin lookin’ forward to dis.”
He tenderly removed my clothes before laying me on the bed, considering my naked body as he undressed, not revealing any embarrassment at the fact that I was watching him closely, my heart pounding harder with every item of clothing he discarded.
His body was magnificent and I turned on my side as he joined me on the bed. He mirrored my posture and pressed his lips against mine as he pinched my nipple before running his hand along the contours of my body, squeezing my bum when he reached it.
When he had taken off his trousers and revealed his hard cock, I had already started to get wet, but just the touch of his hand on my skin and I was drenched. Maybe it was because he had gone from standing up in front of me to lying down next to me. He was within my reach and I couldn’t wait, I didn’t want to wait so, gently pushing his shoulder while I continued to hold his gaze, I straddled him as soon as he was on his back.
As I pressed my pussy lips against his twitching cock, his hands flew up to my breasts, squeezing them before pinching the hard bud at the tip. Raising myself, I took hold of his cock and guided it inside my wet pussy, slowly swallowing it as I softly moaned, gazing at him. He completely filled me. Grinding against him, he was deeper than he had been the first time, the feeling was incredible.
As I began rhythmically rocking my hips, he sat up and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight as he sucked my nipples.
It was as if we were in perfect harmony, each body knowing what the other wanted, helping each other experience wave after wave of pleasure. Despite the hour, it was still hot and we were both sweaty, but it wasn’t enough for us to pull away from each other. Over the next few hours he made me come countless times.
The man had a phenomenal amount of stamina and just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, he would manoeuvre me into another position and start all over again until we were both exhausted, our lust temporarily quenched.
It was a struggle to leave when the sun began to rise, not only because I didn’t want the experience to end but because I was so swollen—my lips, my nipples, my breasts, my pussy—but I still felt good. It was all worth it.
Watching him walk away after he dropped me home, I just felt strange. It was a mixture of sadness, introspection, gratitude and fulfilment, but I was certainly happy that I had been able to see him again.
I just managed to make it back into the house before Aunt Yvonne started to stir. I could have gotten a couple of hours of sleep, but I didn’t. I finished packing as I pictured the last few hours with Wildman. It was like I could still feel his hands on me, still taste him, still feel him filling me. I was quite sure I would never feel muscles like that again, never have sex like that again, never meet another man like him.
After finishing the task, I pulled off the jeans I was wearing as I tried to decide on my outfit for the flight home, and sent something skidding across the floor and under the bed. Puzzled, I got down on my stomach to retrieve it and found it to be a small piece of dark wood carved into the shape of a fish, with the words ’gone fishing’ carved into one side. Chuckling to myself, I turned over the smooth trinket to find the initials ’JF’ on the other side.
It was so sweet and thoughtful. I don’t know when he must have slipped it into my pocket, and now I couldn’t even thank him. I quickly stashed it in an inner compartment of my flight bag, not wanting to lose it.
Having thought I saw Wildman amongst the crowd at the airport, I spent so long telling myself that I had just imagined it that my musings made the eight-hour flight seem much shorter. I was soon sitting on my sofa, continuously turning the wooden fish over in one hand while I held the phone in the other, trying to calculate what the time was in Grenada.
Wildman had made a point of taking my telephone number before I left his house, but now that I was home, back to my real life, I convinced myself that it was just for show, so that I wouldn’t think he had used me. He didn’t even have a telephone line connected at his house. Why would he bother calling?
Eventually, I estimated it to be about four p.m. and figured it was safe to make the promised phone call to Aunt Yvonne to confirm that I got home okay.
“…and you did ‘ave a good time?”
“I had a fantastic time.” I smiled.
“I’m glad, you gwine ‘ave to come down more often.”
“I definitely will.”
“Good. Oh yeah, I fin’ out da hefty man name…it’s Johnson Franks.”
“Johnson Franks,” I repeated, tracing my finger over the letters etched into the wood.
“Yeah, I fin’ Wileman suit him better.”
“Yeah…Wildman. Wildman is good.”
I smiled to myself, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned we had exactly the same initials, I thought it was an uncanny coincidence. It was only then that I knew for sure that I wouldn’t again leave a gap of several years before I went back to Grenada. Just the thought of the wondrous Wildman was enough to make me want to immediately book the next trip out there.
“I hear he travelling next mont’,” she said earnestly, as if imparting actual knowledge rather than gossip.
“Really? Where?” I asked quickly, not bothering to do the sensible thing and ask how she had found out.
“England, I t’ink…”
I didn’t hear anything else she said as I traced my thumb over the initials carved into the side of the little wooden fish. I was useless for the rest of the day. All I could think of was seeing him again. I was elated at the thought that he would rather see me than go to Brazil and could practically feel his hands, and the anticipation of feeling the real thing instantly made me wet.
About the Author
After a studying for a degree in Law and languishing in the Insurance industry for years under the mistaken belief that it would lead to success, I decided to fulfil a childhood desire and do something I enjoy by trying my hand at writing.
As well as mainstream stories, I found I had a talent for writing erotica and was elated when I had two stories accepted for publication by Xcite Books and have been going from strength to strength since then. I often dread being asked where I get my inspiration from because I’m not entirely sure: things in everyday life can inspire my stories.
Having lived in London my whole life, I find it is the ideal place to gain inspiration for the contemporary erotica that I specialise in; I love stories that read like they could have happened and I love a tale with a twist, so I like to write stories that fit within those parameters, although I have surprised myself with a domination story and want to expand my repertoire. My aim is to be able to write full time as I have finally found something that I love doing.
I’m in my late twenties and of West Indian parentage.
Email: [email protected]
&n
bsp; Shermaine loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totalebound.com.
Total-e-bound eBooks
www.total-e-bound.com
Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™ erotic romance titles
and discover pure quality at Total-e-bound.
Hot and Humid Page 4