Rachel's Reward

As the party neared its destination, Kyla nestled beside her briefly, all sexy in shorts and knotted tee-shirt, sunglasses perched in her blonde hair. "You okay, honey? You seem a bit quiet."

"I'm fine," Rachel reassured, cuddling up to her former teacher. "I love it here already. I know it's kind of home for you, but... what a perfect place for a honeymoon. You're so, so lucky..."

The Frutchey family's villa in Hana was almost an anti-climax to Maui's vibrant natural beauty, but impressive nonetheless. It had high ceilings, white-washed walls and polished bamboo flooring, every room luxuriously furnished. Great bay windows stared out across macadamia-studded lawns to the Pacific. There was broad decking at the front for sunbathing and a huge Jacuzzi out back. The whole place was impeccably clean and the larder well-stocked, courtesy of the staff employed in the absence of any family member. Rachel knew she would be sleeping on a futon in the living-room, making space for the couples on the trip, but she felt buoyed up by luxury nonetheless, enjoying the space with all the others, joining in the festive laughter and helping prepare food around the broad granite bay in the kitchen.

The first night she was lulled into sleep by the sound of night birds filtering from outside and the gentle bubbling of the vast tropical fish tank which took up one end of the room. Kyla's family had done well, she thought, drifting on the fringes of consciousness, yet this exotic woman had ended up a regular hard-grafting teacher in North London. Rachel thought she loved her all the more for that. She hoped that the one-time Miss Frutchey was being taken long and hard that night by her manly lover and that the thick walls would insulate her screams of ecstasy from the rest of the house. Except if I'm listening... The naughty thought stayed with her and she fingered herself idly beneath her panties as fatigued slumber swallowed her up. Hours later she awoke, vest clinging to her breasts with sweat, biting down her moans as she masturbated to thoughts of Reece lustily impaling his new bride.

She could barely look at the couple when they joined everyone else for a late morning breakfast, looking fresh, showered and radiant, if somewhat heavy around the eyes. They were welcomed with warm greetings from all and innuendo from the best man just shy of scandalising Reece's mother. Bride and groom looked thoroughly pleased with themselves and helped out with serving large quantities of eggs, bacon and pancakes.

They departed shortly after to pursue the 'us-time' Reece had mentioned -- to where, Rachel and the others could only imagine. Over three days they appeared sporadically, at mealtimes or late on, to laze in the Jacuzzi with their friends. In the couple's absence the others had the run of the house, best man Graham leading the entertainments. There were treks to Hana Bay Beach and out into the woodlands surrounding the villa. There was an afternoon of surfing, Rachel laughing and gasping her way through strenuous watery exploits in the frantic waves. There was one arguably foolhardy attempt at a kuala pig roast using the kitchen's vast Aga stove; the results were partially scorched, partially rare, but everyone tore into the meat, the adults drinking too much blue curacao and indulging in amateur hula around the Jacuzzi.

The whole four days were happy and soaked in laughter, but Rachel could not evade a certain melancholy, the sort that always threatened in special places minus a special person. Of course there were two very special people close by, but they had each other, and that was as it should be. Maybe she should have let Kyla invite Tyler, to see if Maui could ignite the few glimmers she had felt into something more heated. But there was no point in going there. On the final afternoon Rachel felt the need for alone-time. The bridal couple were gone and while the Everett family went snorkelling at Hana Bay, she opted for her own private explorations.

Kaihalula Beach, better known as Red Beach, is a striking alternative to the more tourist-populated Hana Bay, tucked away as it is within a volcanic ash cone; so explained her guide-book. She was sure she had heard the place mentioned in the villa's babble of conversation. It sounded perfect for peace and contemplation, so she packed her beach-bag and took a taxi around the bay, stepping out at the head of the beach trail. "It's a bit tricky to get to," the dark-complexioned young driver warned. "You know I'd take you there myself if I wasn't on the clock..." Her bikini-top was a little exposed beneath her plunging tee and she knew he'd been checking it out in the rear-view.

"It's okay, I'm in the mood for adventure," she said, flashing him what she knew was a pretty smile. She did well, thought Rachel, to keep her inner flirt at bay -- she could make way more use of it than she tended to -- but when you were on holiday and adrift from the more mature members of the party, it was okay to have a little fun, right? Hence the application that day of her most daring swimwear, the dark navy sequined one which showed off most liberally her tight and curvy five-foot five. The little top which hoisted and squeezed her full ripe breasts and the string bottoms, their rear clinging tenaciously to the nicely swollen bottom about which she tried not to be vain. In deference to modesty she tightened a transparent blue sarong about her waist, though she did strip off her tee-shirt and reapply sun-screen liberally to her upper body in full view of passing motorists, several of whom honked loudly. A party of young native Hawaiian guys with baggy beach shorts and ripped torsos were desirous of her company as well, apparently, but she laughed off their hollered advances pleasantly and went on her sandaled way.

The mid-afternoon sun burned deliciously on her shoulders till she sauntered off-road. She made her way down the ironwood-gladed path towards the beach, fir needles crunching under her feet as she went. She took only brief pause at the 'Use at your own risk' sign. The land dropped away in a steep slope to her left and far below she could hear the rush of the Pacific tide. This was what she needed -- to descend somewhere secluded, which shut out all but the hardiest of explorers from its natural delights. To slather herself with cream and stretch out in her skimpies, only bottled water and a nice fat historical novel for companionship. Surrounded by the glories of the Polynesian islands.

She followed the canopied trail till the path twisted and plunged more acutely downwards, the crumbled cinder shifting precariously under her feet. It was a more treacherous descent than she'd bargained on, but she clung to overhanging ironwood branches and made steady shuffling progress, edging and ducking her way to her destination. She was sure she looked a proper sight, slithering her way downwards, sarong snagging and plumped breasts almost bursting out of her tight bikini top as she leaned under trees. Bloody stupid situation. This beach had better be worth it...

Then she twisted around another bend and it came into view. Red Beach indeed -- a long stretch of burnt-red sand bordered by the rocky wall of the cove, stretching down to a sea glinting turquoise in the afternoon sun. A line of jagged black volcanic rock thrust from the water, severing off a broad calm swimming pool from the rest of the ocean. It was exotic, breath-taking. Rachel wanted to be there, luxuriating in the beauty of this special place she had discovered. A scattering of others had made it there before her and were already lying on blankets or cavorting in the water, but she would ignore their presence and make it all her own. So she continued down, rebalancing carefully every time her heel skidded in the cinder.

It was only when she proceeded a little further that she realised most of the beach's denizens were naked. These few far-scattered sun-worshippers were laid out in all their fleshy glory or as good as, and in the water breasts and asses were jogging freely, guys standing full-frontal with nary a thought for their modesty. Rachel paused only momentarily in concern. Then she felt a mini-burst of excitement. Maybe she would join them in their freedom. She had shaken off the rest of her party, so maybe she would fling away her top, or even the whole kit, and splash brazen in the waves. Thrilled by her own flash of daring, she shuffled her way down the curve of the shifting path towards the dark sands. Then she decided that the dirt-track was just too much hard work. It might be easier to climb the final hundred yards down the slope to her right, using the tangle of tree branches to support herself.

She was halfway down, focusing on not causing one of the flimsier branches to spring back and slap her in the face or the boobs, when she heard them. The ocean's steady rush and the rustle of wind in the ironwood foliage had masked their sound till she came close. A breathy feminine voice was panting in rhythm with harsher masculine grunts. The steady vocal duet was echoing up from the mouth of a cave which had been naturally eroded into the volcanic strata of the red-rock wall. She edged further downwards and moaned words from the woman became audible. "Oh God, oh my God, oh yeah..." Rachel felt sure she recognised the voice, even from this very unusual context; in that moment she could not have brought herself to climb back to the path, even had the task been easy. She continued her trek, pulse racing, till she could see past one especially large trunk to the expressive couple below.

Kyla and Reece were naked on a beach blanket in the cave mouth, mid-copulation. Rachel's mind spun with excited shock, her eyes drinking in the sight of ex-teacher and family friend screwing hard in broad staring daylight. The bride was face-down, knees and elbows digging through the purple blanket into sand, as she received her husband from behind. Her bounteous blonde hair was scattered around her face, her cheek pressed to the ground. Rachel had a side-on view, so she could appreciate the long curve of Kyla's graceful body, from tautened shoulder-blades all the way to the pear-like swell of her lewdly upthrust ass. Her skin was a rich honey-gold, with patches of damp sand stuck about her firm calves and thighs, and her breasts were compressed beneath her, their fullness squeezing out as her lover pushed her down against the blanket. This was the history teacher as Rachel could never have fully imagined her.

Reece cut an equally impressive figure as they coupled. He was squatting low to meet his wife's proffered rear, muscular thighs bulging and firm buttocks flexing hard as he thrust deep. Every inch of him was lean and chiselled, his long upper body tapering from broad shoulders to tight waist. Rachel could see the base of his clearly thick cock, each time he withdrew to plunge another hearty stroke into his bride. Most striking was his face -- the genial charm she was used to transfigured into something dark and wolfish.

So this was what they looked like when they fucked. It was even more amazing than Rachel had dreamt. Her cunt became a slippery core of excitement just by looking and her mouth opened in awe. She rested her bag against a tree, gripping the trunk for support as her free hand plucked involuntarily beneath her bikini bottoms.

"This how you like it, Mrs Everett?" Reece's voice carried up to her, gleefully savage and accompanied by several appropriately searching dick-thrusts.

"Uuuugh!" Kyla prized herself up a little and stared back defiantly. "That's Ms Frutchey to you!"

"Oh yeah?" he queried, instantly fired by her words and glance. "Well when my cock's inside your cunt, you're Mrs Everett!" He sank a volley of masterful fuck-strokes inside her to illustrate.

"Ohhh God, ohhhh fuck... Well when you put it that way, honey..."

"You like it any way I put it, sweetheart..." Then he leaned on the small of her back and shafted her till she screamed. Neither seemed to give a damn about potential watchers in the heat of the animal fuck. Rachel watched in awe, her hottest pornographic fantasy brought to vivid life before her on these sun-baked red sands. She let her middle finger slip onto her wet clitoris and rotate steadily as the scene progressed.

Reece pulled out and Rachel saw the full glistening majesty of his erection for the first time. He pulled his wife up by the shoulder and hauled her around in a kneeling position, dropping before her onto his knees. His thighs were splayed, the stout trunk of his bulging cock sprouting tall from their junction. He was shaved clean, Rachel saw, perfectly groomed even for the act of sex. "Suck on me," he told his spouse, and wrapping one hand around the thick base to steady his extension, she gobbled him up hungrily. Were they always like this, their shallow-breathed voyeur wondered, as she fingered herself, or had the intimacy of their nuptial vows fuelled them to incendiary new heights?

Kyla slurped deliciously all over and around Reece's swollen head, her eyes fixed intently on his. She only released him to spit out further sexy tease. "So am I a dutiful little wifey then?" Her tongue flickered rapidly under the hood and he fell back with an aching groan, propping up his long hard body with clenched fists. He was making an arc of himself, thrusting his loins into the air as though offering up his cock for further attentions.

"Ohhhh fuck yes, you are... You're the best wife a man could have..." Then she went down on him once more, sucking diligently, one hand kneading his balls while the other massaged his shaft's thickness. Her breasts swayed gently beneath her and Rachel could glimpse her proud nipples, delectable rose-pink cones of lust. Her legs were arched wide as she fellated, so that anyone strolling behind her could surely have seen the stretched-open entrance to her freshly-fucked cunt.

Rachel bit her plump lip as she frigged herself. It was wrong to peep, she knew, but this was her couple, right? And now she was able to gaze on what she had made, to see that it was oh so very good. She shifted a little for an even clearer view, but lost her footing and clung hard to an overhanging tree branch, making it sway. The movement was enough to alert Kyla's eyes upwards as she sucked. Her eyes locked with her ex-student's and widened in a moment of surprise. Rachel flushed with guilt, snared in the voyeuristic act. Partway down the slope she could not easily rush away in shame. Kyla, however, did not miss a beat. She did not even empty her mouth of her husband's cock. Her eyes softened as though into teasing delight and without diverting her eyes from Rachel's she sucked harder, her cheeks concave, diving deeper onto the shaft, swallowing up inches more of Reece's rigid manhood. His head dropped back in delight, jaw hanging slack, way too distracted to notice any third party.

You want to watch, honey? Kyla's eyes were laughing. Then watch. Take a good hard look. She pushed herself down not far off the base of the thick-veined pole and did a kind of waggling move with her head, which seemed to drive her husband crazy. His throat released a constricted groan as his wife gurgled on his shaft. Even in her embarrassment Rachel loved it -- the intensity of pleasure Reece was taking from his bride, the freedom of sexual expression in which Kyla was indulging. She watched in dazed amazement as Miss Frutchey came off her lover's dick and pumped its saliva-slickness with her clenched palm, drawing from him further ecstatic moans.

Ohhh God, Rachel was thinking, that's it, make him feel good, Miss, make that beautiful man feel good... She was properly caught, but if her teacher didn't mind, she might as well enjoy.

Then Kyla undid her completely. "Look, baby," she said to her aching husband, and her upward gaze directed his. "A little bird's come spying on us..." He stared, stretched out in all his erectile glory, and Rachel burned anew with shame under the gaze of this charming, respectful friend. She felt like she was repaying all that friendship with something mean and seedy. Beyond an initial jolt of surprise, however, Reece displayed no more embarrassment than his wife. If anything he appeared amused at this young girl's predicament. He looked to Kyla, whose hand still rested on his cock, and she returned the stare. Some flicker of mutual understanding seemed to pass between them, for when they returned their gaze to Rachel, she saw an identical wicked welcome in their faces. "You can't stay there all day, honey," smiled Kyla, idly stroking her husband's dick. "So you'd better get your cute ass down here."

"That's right, you naughty little spy. You've been rumbled, so come join us." Rachel didn't know which flustered her most - negotiating the slope under scrutiny of two naked married friends or the fact that these friends were addressing her in the same sexy way they had each other. With no clear idea what turn her day had just taken, she grabbed her bag and started to shuffle downwards. Not carefully enough, though, for she tripped and completed the descent in a desperate scrambling run, every step increasing her momentum. Now she was crunching over the grainy red sand, still trying to arrest her hurtling progress, breasts jostling within her bikini top in what she knew was an undignified fashion. Reece and Kyla had both leapt from the blanket and they caught her, laughing.

"Steady there, honey," Kyla was saying, and Rachel felt a split-second's gratitude for their aid. That was before she realised the two impossibly hot grown-up lovers were guiding her back to the cave-shaded blanket along with their nude lustful selves. They were both taller than her and gloriously-bodied - Reece hewn as though from the same volcanic rock as the beach-cove and Kyla like soft sculpted sunshine. Close-up the couple smelled of tan-lotion and sea salt; their hair was tousled from bathing and both their sweaty forms were matted intermittently with sand. The teacher's hard nipples were grazing Rachel's side, while the architect's superbly-designed erection brushed her hip, as all three of them went to ground.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Rachel gasped, as the naked honeymooners enclosed her on the rug. "I didn't mean to watch..."

"Sure you did," Kyla beamed delightedly, stroking her thigh. "Had you been there long? Did you catch all the show?"

"Really... I had no idea you'd be here." The college girl could hardly find her breath. "It was an accident..."

"You know, I don't believe that for an instant," Reece grinned to his wife, brushing back Rachel's hair with the back of one slightly roughened hand. His cock was stiff against the swell of her ass. "I think she overheard us mention Red Beach. I think she came here looking..."

"I didn't, I promise... I might have overheard you mention this place, but..."

"You're a sneaky little Peeping Tom," whispered Kyla, nuzzling her ear and making her writhe with exquisite sensation. "Look how hard those nipples are from watching..."

"I'll bet she's soaking wet too," Reece added with relish. Rachel could hardly believe he was casually referring to her pussy that way. "What do you think, baby?"

"Oh, I've no doubt. Who'd have thought she'd turn out such a kinky little thing?"

Rachel's head swan with confused desire. "I'm not, honest I'm not... It was an accident..."

"It was serendipity," said Kyla, her voice softening with affection. She drew Rachel's face to hers and suddenly the girl's ex-teacher was kissing her with her tongue, her soft mouth salty and delicious. "You want to watch a little closer?" she asked when their lips detached.

"Or do you want more than that?" Reece drew her head around with a fingertip to her chin and kissed her too, his firm mouth hot and tender on hers.