by Diana Kane
*****
The sensation of water hitting my toes wakes me from another nap. The hour long deep tissue massage coupled with some time in the sauna turned me into a useless puddle. I vaguely remember slinking my way back to my suite and laying down in the enclosure on the terrace. Another rain shower steadily falls, but I know it will be brief. I stretch and end up further exposing my legs to the cascading water. I sit up and realize that I’m parched, hungry and that it’s nearly dark. I tread the short distance inside and down another bottle of water. Despite the rain, it’s still warm and humid. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and take in my wrinkled clothes and messy hair. I exchange my shorts for my black sarong and an emerald green tank top that fits me like a glove. I brush out my hair but give up on taming it and pull it up into a messy bun. As I make my way to the restaurant, I’m stopped by a familiar song. I stand there, sifting through my brain for the reason that it holds my attention. I struggle with the elusive memory before finally catching it. It’s the song that was playing when Katrina kissed me. The scene replays in my mind, and as she flees, she takes my appetite with her. No longer wanting to eat and not wanting to be in the confined space of my suite, I do the one thing I can think to, I head to the beach. The combination of the unpredictable rain showers coupled with the lack of daylight results in the beach being eerily abandoned. I amble along, wandering further than I have to this point. When I reach what I’m sure is the end of the resort’s shoreline I turn around and slowly stroll in the other direction, wracking my brain, trying to decode my feelings for Katrina. I near the bungalows for the first time and take in their cookie cutter design. They all bear the same glass paneled walls overlooking the ocean, the same off white exterior paint, the same balcony style patio and the same thatch roof. Trios of palm trees separate one mirror image from the next. All they are missing are the inspected by operator 123 stamps. I continue to wander the shore, the waves licking at my feet, the edges of my sarong soaking up the salt water. The ocean offers a certain serenity, so I sit down with my feet planted on the tide line and my arms wrapped around my knees, staring out into the empty void in front of me. I don’t know how long I sit there staring into nothingness, but for the second time today I’m brought back to consciousness by a thunderclap that gives a five second warning before the downpour commences. There’s nothing I can do, so I stand up, extending my arms and tipping my face up to the unseen clouds.
“You’re insane!” The din of the falling rain slapping the ocean leaves me unsure if I heard the words or imagined them. I look around but don’t see anyone. Then I hear laughter. I may have felt like I was losing my grip when I started this walk, but I know I did not imagine that. I follow the sound and find Isabella standing under the thatched overhang of the last bungalow in the line. I saunter away from the shoreline and pause at the base of the stairs leading up to her deck. I can’t see her, but she voices no objection, so I ascend them, feeling my desire for her coming to life all over again. She waits for me at the top, standing in the threshold of the sliding glass door, towel in hand. I stand there in the rain as she drinks me in, I can feel the already tight tank clinging to my curves and the sarong hanging just a little lower on my hips. “Come in,” she commands as she offers the towel. I take it, unsure what I should do with it. I can hear the rainwater pooling on the floor as my over saturated clothes shed their excess. I dry off my face and then drop the towel, trying not to cause a flood. I watch her as she gathers another towel and motions to the bathroom as she hands it to me. I’m keenly aware of the familiar translucent glass walls, but know she really won’t see more of me than she already has. I close the door behind me and wring out my clothes in the sink. A knock at the door startles me, as I stand there fully naked. “I have some dry clothes for you.” I feel guilty taking them, but if I don’t my only real option is to go back to my suite. I wrap myself in the towel and slide open the door to accept the offer. I watch Isabella as her collected facade is betrayed by the slight sound of her breath catching, her lips parting and her pupils dilating. Leaving now isn’t an option.
I slip into the backless sea blue sundress and fasten it around my neck, the small knot the only thing securing the fabric to my body. I stand there and listen to the softly playing music, as a touch of nervousness settles in. I slide open the door and find Isabella in the small kitchen, preparing what must be a picture of sangria. She pauses when she sees me and a small grin curls at the corner of her mouth as she resumes her work. “Drink?”
“Thanks.” I unglue my feet from the floor, slowly approaching her as I take in my surroundings. Aside from the larger space, the addition of the kitchenette and the absence of the bed, the decor is quite familiar. “This is your place?” She nods as she places the orange, lemon and lime garnish on our glasses. “No offense but how can you afford it?” My gaze quickly shifts away from Isabella as soon as the words leave my mouth. Embarrassment surges through me, and I want nothing more than to dart back to my suite. “Sorry, sometimes I lack a filter.” Isabella laughs, much to my relief.
“Not to worry. My family owns the resort.” The shock must be painted on my face because Isabella chuckles again before offering one of the finished drinks to me. “It’s not a big deal. Most of my family work here in some capacity. I do not care for the business side of things, I don’t enjoy working with numbers or the monotony of financials and meetings every day. I prefer creativity and people. Come, sit.” She grabs the picture of sangria and leads me to the identical arm chairs, claiming the far one for herself. She sits across from me, close enough that I could slowly run my foot up her leg if I tried to. I watch her as her eyes fix on something. I turn slightly to see what it is and realize she can see my discarded clothes drying on the side of her bathtub. I should feel a modicum of modesty that she’s now aware of my nakedness below the borrowed sundress, but I don’t. “What were you doing out there?” I close my eyes and enjoy the music. I can’t understand the words but something about it grabs my soul, I can’t help but love it.
“Walking. Thinking.” I keep my eyes closed, and my mind focused on the music. I feel myself start to gently sway in time with it.
“About her?” I open my eyes and fix my gaze on Isabella’s.
“Amongst other things.” She hides her reaction, if she has one. I continue to enjoy the music and my drink. The song changes and I realize that somehow I’ve heard it before. “Isn’t this the woman from last night?” I feel her voice wrap around me, the sadness in her tone and the melody feel familiar.
“It is,” she says as she stands up and extends her hand to me. “I believe we were interrupted last night.” I take her hand, and she leads me to the small open space between the kitchenette and the sitting area. I feel her body press against my back, her left hand rest against my stomach and her right hand begin trailing along my thigh again. We easily fall into a rhythm with the music, like someone pressed pause last night and is now resuming the feature. I can feel my body respond to the contact with hers. I lean my head back as her luscious lips softly caress their way over my bare shoulder and up my neck. “I want you,” she whispers, her hushed words caressing my ear. Sheer animalistic lust courses through me as the hand on my abdomen slowly inches its way towards my breast. I break free from her and turn to face her, placing my hands on her hips.
“I can’t offer you anything. I still have to leave at the end of next week.” I don’t want any confusion, as badly as I want Isabella there has to be transparency.
“I know,” she whispers as she trails a finger down the side of my face, under my chin and down my sternum, stopping near my heart. “And I know that this belongs to another. But you are beautiful, how could I not want you?” Her words are exactly what I need to hear. My hands forcefully grip her hips and pull her to me as our mouths clash against each other, tongues swirling around and darting in and out at a fever pitch. The hand that held a finger near my heart shifts over and aggressively grabs my breast. She lowers herself and
ministers to the other through the fabric of the dress. As she teasingly bites down on my nipple, I feel my legs threaten to give and let out a loud moan.
I grab her by the hair and pull her head back, “Where’s the bedroom?” She rises and pulls me to her, pressing her mouth against mine once again as she carefully guides us down a short hall into her bedroom. My hands snake under the thin fabric of her shirt and find her bare breasts. I brush my thumbs over her erect nipples before pinching them between my fingers. She emits a soft growl as I tug upward on her shirt, trying to remove it. She lifts her arms long enough to allow me to, and I stare at her exposed torso, the bronzed skin, her taut stomach, her perfect breasts with the expresso colored areolae and the erect nipples begging for my mouth. She takes advantage of my momentary distraction to turn me and pin me against the wall. Her lips lock on mine again as her hands greedily knead my breast, taunting my nipples with every pass. My excitement builds, and she pulls back, staring at me with fire in her eyes. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches behind my neck and undoes the lone knot keeping the dress in place, looking away to watch it fall to the floor, drinking in my nakedness. Her eyes lustfully fixate on my breasts and as I attempt to remove her shorts her head dashes in, greedily sucking my nipple into her mouth before biting it and rolling her tongue over it. It sends shockwaves to my core causing me to groan.
“Fuck!” Her eyes look up at me as she does it again to my other breast and trails her fingers up the insides of my thighs. She lowers herself and my hips buck against her as she sucks on my throbbing labia. Her hand presses on the back of my thigh and guides my leg onto her shoulder, giving her better access. She presses down on my hips, pinning me against the wall as she slowly runs her tongue along my sex, circling my swollen clit when she reaches it. I watch our reflection in the mirror as she latches her mouth onto me. Her tongue teases my entrance before she sucks my clit again, causing me to rock against her. She repeats her pattern, this time inserting her tongue a little further and swirling it before pulling back out to swipe at and suck my aching sex. Her hand finds my breast, and the dual sensations are nearly too much. I start riding her face as hard as my position allows me to, my fingers tangled in her hair pushing her into me. “Oh fuck,” I scream as I climax, Isabella keeping her rhythm until I force her to stop.
She runs her tongue up my midsection as she rises from the floor. My body is still trembling from its release, but I don’t hesitate. I pull her to me, claiming her mouth with mine. I can taste myself as our tongues clash and my hands finally free Isabella of her shorts. I push off the wall and guide us towards her bed, pushing her down onto it when we finally get there. I rake my fingers along the inside of her thigh as my mouth claims one of her nipples, circling it with my tongue before sucking and nibbling it. My fingers roll over her sex as I bite her nipple again, causing her hips to rise up off of the bed and her to release a low hiss. Her motion forces firmer contact with my fingers and I can feel her juices as they begin coating my digits. Wanting more, I spread her lips and slowly circle her entrance before running my fingers up to circle her clit. I bite down on her nipple again as I insert one finger to the maximum depth. She pushes down against me, silently asking for more. I withdraw the finger and repeat the process with two fingers, this time massaging her clit with my thumb when she presses against me. I pull back and repeat the motions and devour the groan she releases with my mouth. My thumb continues to circle her clit as I kiss her, but my fingers stay in place, gently massaging her g-spot. She tries to pull me back to her as I stand up, but I deny her, wanting to watch her body as she gets closer to the edge. I gaze down at her as I move my fingers out and insert them again, flicking her g-spot with each passing. I start to increase the rhythm and intensity, enjoying my reward of watching her beautiful body writhe against the duvet as she pulls at her own nipples. I begin to piston my hand against her, and she starts bucking harder and harder. I can smell her sex. I have to know how she tastes, so I lower my mouth to her as she greedily fucks my hand. She groans something that I don’t comprehend, but her body tells me all I need to know as I suck on her clit and finger her with reckless abandon. Her fingers grab hold of my bun and press me against her gyrating hips as her walls begin to tighten. She screams out as she climaxes and her walls clamp down on my fingers, her juices running down my palm. She pulls my head away, and I remove my fingers when she finally relaxes enough. I lay on the bed next to her and stare at the ceiling as we both try to catch our breath, the ache in my arm quickly subsiding.
“So is this your thing?” Isabella turns to face me.
“My thing?”
“I don’t mind if it is, but do you make a habit of seducing tourists?”
“Not for many years.” Her eyes seem to go dark from what the dim light creeping in from the hallway allows me to see. She slides herself fully up onto the bed, resting her head on one of the pillows there. I’m curious about what she isn’t saying, but am starting to feel as though my question has worn out my welcome. As I stand up to leave the sound of her voice stops me. “The women that were watching us last night. That was my ex and my former best friend from childhood. We were together for three years. I left work early one day to find them in bed together. It had been going on for well over a year.”
“And that’s how you ended up living here.” She nods, and I take it as a cue that I can stay. I lay down next to her, trying to imagine how she must feel seeing them. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“It was over a year ago. I’m over it.” I understand now, our situations are different, but somehow we both need the same thing. “What are your plans tomorrow?”
“No plans, remember?” I watch the grin return to her face.
“You cannot stay here and not see some of the sites, take in the culture, live a little. I have tomorrow off if you’d like me to show you some things.” Neither of us is going to fall for the other, we’re both carrying too much baggage for that. We could give each other what we need though, and I’ve enjoyed her company thus far.
“That would be nice.” Isabella rolls onto her side and smiles at me as she slowly trails her fingers up my thigh and over my hip before sliding up my stomach. Gooseflesh rises on my skin following her touch. When her fingers reach my face, she uses them to tilt it towards her.
“Are you staying?” The look in her eyes tells me she isn’t talking about sleeping. I roll on my side and pull her to me, crushing her mouth with mine.
Chapter 16
Intensely vivid sex dreams are nothing new for me. At least once a week I’ll wake up extremely turned on and have even experienced nocturnal orgasms before. So when the sensations wake me this time, I open my eyes and am momentarily confused. This isn’t my suite, nor am I alone. I can feel soft flesh pressed against my back and the hand between my thighs slowly stroking the length of my sex.
“Buenos dias,” Isabella purrs in my ear before taking my lobe between her teeth. The soft strokes of her fingers cause me to press my ass into her hips.
“Mmmm, good morning.” I slide my hand down and press it against hers, silently asking for more pressure. I can feel her grin against my neck.
“What would you like to do this morning?” Despite my silent plea, she continues her slow, torturous teasing. I try to press myself against her hand, but she pulls away, denying me the increase in friction.
“I want you to fuck me,” I pant, desperate for more. She hesitates a second before finally returning her her hand to my sex.
“We have time,” she whispers before giving me what I asked for.
*****
“Where are you taking me?” I left Isabella’s bungalow to shower and change with the plan to meet her at one of the restaurants for a quick breakfast. From there, we got into her Jeep, and she piloted us away from the resort.