Brianna Clarke, in the Caribbean

Brianna Clarke's Caribbean Investigation

Tuesday

Brianna Clarke gave the appearance of a gorgeous woman on a Caribbean holiday, lounging by the pool in a neon green string bikini, feet dangling in the water, palms on the deck behind her, face to the sun. But she was working. Hired to find a diamond thief.

She'd arrived at the exclusive resort that afternoon and within an hour had already fended off the advances of two men and one woman. They were not her target. Her suspect was the handsome thirty-something reading his kindle in the lounge chair next to hers.

On the plane she'd read his file that contained a grainy photograph that didn't do justice to his good looks and buff body. She also knew his and his partner's sexual proclivities.

She slipped into the saline pool to cool off. It was so refreshing after basking in the afternoon sun. She swam leisurely, got out of the pool, and strolled over to her chaise lounge. Putting on her floppy sunhat and sunglasses, she resumed her seat and picked up her book.

"Excuse me," he said. His smile was almost as bright as the sun reflecting off the pool's water.

"I noticed that you're reading Emmanuelle," he said. "Enjoying it?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I'm an amateur scholar of French erotic literature," he said. "Have you read the Story of O?"

"Emmanuelle is better. O is a submissive sex slave whereas Emmanuelle is an empowered sexually adventurous woman."

"Which are you?"

"It depends upon the situation."

"I'm Tom."

"Brianna."

They shook hands.

For the next half hour, they discussed 19th century erotica publications while she sipped a frozen daiquiri, and he consumed rum punches.

"What about the Marquis de Sade?" he asked.

"Haven't read any."

"I have an illustrated copy of Juliette in my room. Do you read French?"

"Is that required to understand the pictures?"

"Oh, I like you," he said folding up his kindle and putting on his shirt and sandals.

She slid her book into her tote bag, slipped on a sheer white coverup, and stepped into her flipflops.

Tom's well-appointed bungalow was similar to hers. Living room, bedroom, and a private screened-in terrace with a view of the beach and the Caribbean Sea.

"Want anything?" he offered.

"No. I'm good."

"I'll be back in a moment."

She ambled onto the terrace and drank in the magnificent vista of swaying palm trees, sandy beach, and blue water. She heard the unseen birds singing and tasted the salt in the gentle breeze.

In the distance the hotel manager strolled through the lush gardens with a clipboard in his left hand. That was the signal that Tom's bungalow had been searched and the diamond was still missing.

"Here's the book."

Tom handed her a vintage hardcover edition of Juliette.

She opened it randomly to a drawing of a five-couple orgy. She skimmed a few more pages. An illustration of a man screwing a woman -- it might be anal -- while she gave another man fellatio with a naked couple watching. Then to a sketch of numerous men and women in fellatio and anal sex with a naked man bound to a post.

The front door opened and a good-looking man in his mid-thirties entered.

"This is my friend and business partner, Alex," Tom said. "Alex, this is Brianna."

She recognized him instantly. His photo also had been in the dossier she'd read on the plane.

He smiled in delight as he gave her the once over. A gorgeous twenty-seven-year-old with round breasts, pouty lips, a toned body, and beach-blonde hair.

They shook hands.

He was tall and handsome and sexy with a buff body that couldn't be hidden with casual clothing.

"We're examining the drawings in Juliette," Tom said.

"Are you into BDMS?" Alex asked Brianna.

"I've done my share. What about you?"

"I'm a sadist, but I like to fuck. You?"

"I'll screw if the goods are high quality."

"Want to see?"

"Okay."

Alex proceeded to take off his polo shirt.

"Wait," she said. "In keeping with the Juliette theme, it should be an erotic striptease."

"I'll put on some stripper music," Tom said as he exited the terrace.

Moments later they heard 'Dot Com' by Usher.

Alex stood up, took off his shirt, swung it above his head, and then tossed it to Brianna, who carefully folded it and put it on the end table with the rest of the clothing that he threw to her.

Within a minute he was totally naked; 1.2 meters in height, 114 kilos of muscle, and very well hung.

"Now it's you're turn," he said collapsing into a wicker chair.

"That was lame," she said.

There was over four minutes left in the Usher song.

She rose from her seat and began to gyrate to the beat of the music. She flicked her right foot and then her left. One flipflop and then the other landed in his lap.

Standing in the middle of the terrace barefoot she grasped the bottom of her white coverup and slowly raised it to her hips and then to her breasts, before flinging it over her head. Her movements were timed to the music's tempo.

Swaying her hips in smooth circles she ran her hands over her toned body while maintaining eye contact with him. Her lips were gently parted.

Every so often, she looked up at the ceiling as she tousled her shoulder length hair from side to side. Her smile was sensuous and inviting.

Turning her back to him, she slowly undid the two ties of her halter top bikini. She dangled the piece of swimwear suggestively before lightly tossing it so that it landed at his feet.

Biting her lower lip, she spun around to give him a full view of her round firm 36-C breasts. Shimmying her hips and shaking her shoulders back and forth she inched her way closer to him. Always in time to the music.

His large penis was rising with excitement. She smiled, raised her eyebrows, and licked her upper lip. His cock jerked upwards in acknowledgement.

When she was close enough to sit in his lap, she learned forward, her erected nipples caressing his hairy chest, and whispered in his ear, "Do you mind untying my bikini bottom?"

She licked his earlobe, "With your teeth."

Grinning he put his hands behind his back, bent forward at the waist, took hold of one of the spaghetti strings with his teeth, and pulled.

As he did so, she pulled the other string and her bikini bottom fell to the floor as the music ended.

She could feel his breath on her pussy.

"Now that's how you do a striptease," she cooed.

He put his two hands on her buttock cheeks and dug his sharp nails into her tender flesh. She inhaled audibly when he shoved his index finger into her ass.

Many women would have slapped his face at such an unwarranted intrusion. Brianna rested her hands on his shoulders. Like the character Emmanuelle she used sex for her own purposes, including finding the Kimberly Red Diamond.

He licked her pussy lips and then stuck his tongue into her cunt.

She stared into middle space wondering how she could examine Tom's clothing for the diamond.

"I see you're already into the fun," said a naked Tom returning to the terrace.

He held his penis in his left hand. A line of white powder stretched along his dick. In his right hand was a straw.

Alex abandoned Brianna and hustled over to Tom. Knelling he used the straw to snort the line of cocaine off Tom's cock. Then he took Tom's member into his mouth.

Tom purred in contentment.

Alex removed his mouth from Tom's dick and said to Brianna, "Do you want some coke?"

"No thanks."

"Then let's fuck," Tom said.

As they raced into the bedroom Brianna tripped and fell onto Tom's clothes that were strewn on the floor.

"Sorry," she said.

She was on her knees with two naked men's cocks at eye level. She knew how to play their game. She stroked Alex's cock while taking Tom's into her mouth hoping that Alex had sucked all the cocaine from Tom's dick.

"Oh my god she's good."

She released Tom's cock and took Alex's into her mouth.

"Oh, fuck you're right."

The two men embraced and kissed while Brianna alternated tea-bagged them.

When they were ready to come, she leaned back on her haunches and said, "Now who's ready to fuck?"

"Want to become the filling in a sandwich?" Tom asked.

She'd had a threesome before, but not that way. She leapt at the sexual opportunity of being penetrated both vaginally and anally at the same time.

Tom lay on his back and slid a condom onto his cock. Without hesitation she mounted him cowgirl style and slowly lowered herself onto his sheathed penis.

She sighed in satisfaction as his large and thick dick stimulated her cunt.

Collapsing onto him she pressed her chest against his. They French kissed. Their tongues intertwined. His lips soft and tender. His cock firm and solid.

She grunted when Alex jammed two fingers into her ass and began to uncomfortably explore her rectum. She was about to object when he replaced his fingers with his cock.

"Your ass is so wonderfully tight," he said.

It was painful and erotic. Penetration in cunt and ass.

She relaxed and got into the rhythm moaning in sexual satisfaction.

This was fantastic. Double penetration. One stimulating her G-spot the other her cul-de-sac.

Alex's hands reached around her body and pinched her nipples with his fingernails. Pain shot through her breasts as though she was wearing nipple clamps.

Instead of focusing on the pain, she'd think about the pleasure.

Their dicks were so long and thick that it felt as though they were rubbing together through the thin membrane that separated her vagina from her rectum.

She revelled in the contradiction of pleasure in her cunt and pain in her ass and nipples.

Erotic arousal throughout her body. She closed her eyes. Heavenly sensations being full of pulsating, pounding, throbbing cocks.

The men grunted in excitement. She moaned in pleasure. Sexual euphoria.

After ten incredible minutes of erotic enjoyment, she had a mind-blowing orgasm that seemed to last forever.

Eventually, she descended from her euphoric high, drained, and unable to move.

Her orgasmic scream of joy aroused the two men to increase their sexual thrusts into her body. They were fucking in earnest pounding her with all their might. Now she was the meat in a fuck sandwich. A sex doll awaiting their semen discharges.

Several minutes later both men exploded shooting their loads deep into her pussy and ass.

They all rolled off one another and lay on the bed panting.

Their bodies glistened with perspiration because the overhead fan didn't rotate even though the switch was in the on position.

"You're turn," Tom said.

Alex unrolled the condom from Tom's dick, licked Tom's penis clean, and then dropped Tom's and his own prophylactic into the wastebasket by the bed.

Lying on her back, squeezed between the two exhausted men, Brianna thought about the phone call she'd received twenty-four hours ago.

* * * * *

"Brianna Clarke, private investigator."

"My name is Malcom. I'm the personal assistant to Mr. Alfred Berton. He'd like you to recover an item stolen from him."

Alfred Berton was a name she recognized. Ruthless self-made multibillionaire recluse.

"During a Caribbean cruise on the Ocean Princess to celebrate Mr. Berton's fiftieth birthday someone stole the Kimberly Red Diamond."

She knew that the pride of Berton's rare diamond collection was the Kimberly that he'd recently bought at Sotheby's.

"Theft is a criminal matter best handled by the police."

"Mr. Berton cherishes his privacy. He wants no publicity."

"Uh-huh."

"Two dozen guests were on the cruise but only four weren't visible on CCTV footage when the diamond was stolen. The yacht and his guests are now at Mr. Berton's private resort club in Santo Miguel. My staff have searched everyone's rooms both on the yacht and at the resort and found nothing. The thief either has it on his person or has hidden it. Your job is to recover the diamond before everyone leaves in two day's time."

In other words, she'd have to get the suspects naked so that she could inspect their clothes for the diamond. Or get them to say where they stashed it. All within forty-eight hours.

"Your reputation precedes you. We need your special talents and we're willing to pay, with no questions asked."

How could she refuse to charge an exorbitant amount to a man who had more money than King Midas.

They negotiated a fee. Seven percent of the value of the diamond.

"I'll email you the relevant information. A jet will pick you up tomorrow at 8:00 am. Also, Mr. Berton's resort is a swingers' club."

Oh boy! Sex, sun, sand, and snooping.

On the flight she reviewed the files.

The Kimberly was five-carats, approximately 11 millimeter in circumference, and worth over five million because a red diamond is so rare.

Tom and Alex were real estate developers who had orchestrated Berton's disastrous takeover of the Palisades. Tom collected erotica. Alex was a well-known heron addict.

MaryBeth, who'd just taken up sailing, had facilitated Berton's purchase of the Ocean Princess, the hundred-meter yacht that slept thirty passengers and had mysteriously developed dry rot. It was currently moored at Berton's resort in Santo Miguel.

Norman, an amateur astrologist, was an investment banker who managed a sizeable chunk of Berton's financial portfolio that had not been performing well.

Which of them had nicked the Kimberly Red?

* * * * *

It was an uneventful flight on Mr. Berton's personal jet to his private landing strip near his exclusive resort in Santo Miguel.

She exited the plane. It was noon. A cloudless sky. Palms trees gently swaying.

A man in a white suit approached her and said, "Welcome. I'm Malcom. Cedric will see to your baggage."

"Don't I have to clear customs and immigration?" she said.

"It's already been done for you."

Malcom escorted her to the limousine idling nearby.

It was thirty-two degrees Celsius. He opened the car door and they eased into the backseat of the luxurious twenty-two degreed air-conditioned automobile.

"Each day their rooms are secretly searched," he said. "Nothing."

"The things I asked for?"

"They've in your bungalow and you're the crew in tomorrow's race."

After putting her luggage in the trunk, Cedric whisked them to the resort.

Two hours after arriving on the island she lay naked between two nude men who had taken her to a new level of carnal euphoria. Pleasure and pain during a simultaneous double penetration.

She closed her eyes and drifted into a light sleep.

Suddenly, she was awoken when Alex climbed on top of her and unceremoniously shoved his cock into her pussy.

"What the ..."

"Shut up bitch," he snarled. "I want the front door this time."

She squirmed to get him off but was unable. He firmly held her wrists.

"I like it when they struggle."

Before she could protest, he put his lips to hers and forced his tongue into her mouth.

She thought of biting it but was afraid of how he might react.

"Oh boy. A tower," Tom said as she climbed onto Alex and eased his cock into Alex's ass.

The weight of the two men was too much for her to slither free, so she'd have to endure having sexual intercourse against her will. She went limp.

Alex slapped her face.

"Put up a bit of a battle skank, otherwise its no fun."

Tears formed in her eyes as she tried to participate. But she could barely move under the weight of the two men. It was as though she was tied up and had to endue being sexually assaulted.

It felt as though Tom was sending energy into Alex's ass that was then magnified as he humped her cunt like a stallion in heat.

"I like it rough," Alex said as he redoubted his efforts.

He was animalistic. No tenderness. No passion. Simply base lasciviousness.

It seemed an eternity of abuse and so she was embarrassed to realize that she was enjoying being thrashed in this fashion. She weep at being simultaneously violated and aroused.

Her forced orgasm was long and deep and exhausting.

Eventually, the two men shot their loads and once again, they all rolled off one another.

"Your turn, slut," Alex said. "You know what to do."

She slipped the condom off Alex's cock. As she licked his dick clean, he slapped her hard once on each butt cheek.

Carefully staying out his reach, she cleaned removed Tom's prophylactic and cleaned his cock with her tongue.

She dropped the condoms into the wastebasket.

The two men spooned. That was her cue.

"I'll see you boys later," she said exiting the bedroom.

She'd learnt what she needed to know.

* * * * *

It was almost midnight. No moon. No ambient light. Starlight shimmered atop the water's surface.

Brianna Clarke's right eye was against the lens of a high-powered telescope. The galaxy of stars in the Milky Way looked so near, as though she could reach out and touch them.

"They'll be a meteor shower later tonight," a voice said.

"I'm waiting for it."

She smelt the aroma of a fine Cuban cigar.

"I stargaze on the beach every evening," he said. "I haven't seen you here before."

"I just arrived today."

"I travel all over the world looking at the stars."

She raised her head and examined the stranger. Mid-forties. Jet black hair. Touch of grey at the temples that made him look quite distinguished. He looked like the photo she'd examined on the flight to Santo Miguel.

"This place is unique," he said, "The absence of tropical storms makes the skies clear and dark."

She didn't say anything.

"You knew that didn't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Just trying to make conversation. My name's Norman."

"Brianna."

They shook hands.

"Want to look?" she said.

"Thanks."

He dropped his cigar onto the beach and peered through the lens. For the next five minutes he described everything he saw.

"Sorry." He raised his head. "I get carried away when talking about the stars."

They chatted about constellations, planets, comets, galaxies, and the wonders of space.

When the meteor shower began, they alternated between marvelling at the fast-moving fireballs with the naked eye or zeroing in on the falling stars with their persistent trains through the telescope.

It was almost two in the morning. They'd counted twenty-two meteors.

No one else was about. The birds were silent. The air was motionless. The waves gently lapped onto the shore.

"I'm going for a swim," she said slipping off her sundress. It was her only piece of clothing. "Care to join me?"

She ran naked into the surf.

He only hesitated for a moment and then stripped and joined her in the warm Caribbean waters.

"I'll race you to the diving platform," she said.

It was anchored about forty meters from the shore.

She quickly realized she could easily outswim him, so she slowed her crawl.

Slightly out of breath he touched the platform seconds ahead of her.

"Congats," she said. "What does the winner want as his prize?"

"I'll tell you when we get back to shore." He was out of breath.

Floating on their backs, they skulled to the beach examining the heavens. The multitude of stars was their vista.

They reached the shore and scampered up the beach to collapse onto two chaise lounges.

It was warm enough that their naked bodies didn't need towels.

"I want a cigar," he said.

"Let me get it."

She picked up their discarded clothes and brought them to their chairs.

"Allow me," she said.

She fished out the cigar case from his pants pocket as well as his lighter. After dropping their clothes to the sand, she opened the case and handed him a cigar. Then she flicked the lighter.

"Not so fast," he said. "I won the swim race. I want my prize to be a Bill Clinton with this cigar."

They were silent. The waves lapped the shore.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I thought you'd ask for a BJ or a fuck."