Hawaii Heat

Sarah (giggling): Don't cum without me, you naughty boy. Get me excited too!

Marc: Knead your breasts for me. Slowly. Tell me how you feel.

Sarah (sighing): Oh, Marc, I'm running my nails over my nipples through the silk of my bra. My nipples are so hard!

Marc: Pull down your bra cups and keep teasing your nipples.

Sarah: Yes, yes, yes.

Marc: Are you lying on your back?

Sarah: Yes, yes.

Marc: Raise your legs up in the air. Point your stilettos at the ceiling.

Sarah: With my red stockings and stilettos I look like a stripper on a bar, Marc. Like the tall Russian you paid for in Vladivostok.

Marc: Yes, wasn't she sexy? Now do just what she did, tease your clitoris. Tease it with you nails through your panties.

Sarah (gasping): My God, Marc! I'm more tender than I thought!

Marc: Good, good. Tell me what's happening, tell me, tell me!

Sarah (with a small moan): Oh Marc, I'm getting wet. Just thinking of your hard cock is getting me so wet! I want it in my mouth!

Marc: I'm in your mouth, baby! I'm fucking your mouth, stretching those full lips of yours!

Sarah moaned louder and made gagging sounds.

Marc: I'm gonna cum, baby! I'M CUMMING!!"

Sarah (squealing): I'm cumming, darling! I'M CUMMING WITH YOU!

There was silence on the line for a while.

Marc: We're flying to Paris tomorrow, but we have a free day before our meetings. I've got a suite at the George V. We'll order room service and have sex all day! I'll blindfold you, tie you down and fuck you so hard, you'll scream to wake the dead.

Sarah (breathily): I can't wait that long. Can't we have sex on the plane?

Marc: We'll have the stewardess on board, Sarah.

Sarah: Let her watch!

Marc (sharply): I can't have anyone seeing us, Sarah.

Sarah (petulantly): Oh, alright! I'll wait till we get to the hotel.

Jack hit stop.

All the color had drained from Sarah's face.

"How did you get that?" she asked.

"Not too difficult," said Jack with elaborate casualness. "I have a standing contract with a black ops company - lots of highly skilled folks in all manner of undercover activity. Turns out that hacking into phone company records is pretty easy. I asked them to do it and they sent me the full transcripts of your calls just over an hour ago."

"What else do you have?"

"I've got lots more phone sex. You made some sex tapes with him, didn't you? He stored them on his Cloud server, not very wise. I've got them too. Lots of sex, pretty routine, though. Straight fucking in the a lot of anonymous hotel rooms, in the bed, on the floor, in the bathroom, missionary, doggie style, cowboy, sitting, standing. All the standard positions - not very creative as far as sex goes, is he? I wonder what kind of sex supermodel Miranda lets him have."

Sarah's hand went over her mouth with shock.

"He's planning to breed you again, isn't he?" Jack went on, relentlessly. "You said to Marc, 'Tim will be so happy to be a father again'. You're a bitch, Sarah."

"Who are you to talk?" said Sarah, recovering. "At least Marc doesn't sleep with a different woman every night like you do."

"I don't claim to be virtuous. But play the innocent wife. You're just using Tim."

Sarah picked up her margarita and took a long swig, draining it. Jack did the same with his. She pulled her sunglasses down out of her hair to shade her eyes and looked away at bright sunlit pool. She picked up Tim's margarita.

"Take off your top," said Jack suddenly. "I want to see you in the bra I bought you."

Sarah set down the drink and looked back over at Jack. She put her sunglasses back up in her hair. She looked like she was going to refuse, but then she shrugged out of the unbuttoned crop top. She dropped it on the ground by her chair.

"Stand up."

Sarah took her time, but then stood up slowly, fluidly.

"Turn around."

She slowly twirled, her heels clicking on the stone flagstones. Jack got up and came up behind her. He traced the edges of her bra, his fingertips mere millimeters away from her skin. Her breathing was slow and uneven, causing her breasts to judder. When she completed her turn and faced him, his hands cupped her breasts so close that she could feel the heat of his hands. But he did not touch her.

"Drop your skirt."

Sarah looked into his eyes, so close to hers. His expression was intense, but it was the intensity of command, not desire. She knew she could look away, and be free of him, but she was not sure she wanted to. Slowly, deliberately, she unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the ground.

He sank down to his haunches, till his face was level with the crotch of her low-rise panties. The yellow silk was semi-diaphanous, but the blue lace up and down the center of the crotch obscured her thick pussy lips. She had a narrow line of downy bush along her pussy lips. Her clitoris made a small but obvious bulge in the lace trim.

"Turn around. Slowly."

She obeyed. Again, her heels again made tiny clicks on the stone as she moved. His fingers traced the edges of her panties, again close, so close, but without touching her. With her derriere in his face, she stopped and bent forward, pushing it toward him. But he retreated, maintaining his closeness but without actual contact. He inhaled deeply, drawing her heady sweet-and-sour nether aroma into his nostrils. The strip of yellow silk covered her anus, but the tight fit of the fabric outlined it clearly. The thong top that sat at the base of her spine was a blue butterfly fashioned from lace. The twin globes of her buttocks were perfectly round and covered with a very thin sheen of sweat.

She kept turning. When her crotch came under his face again, he blew a sharp breath directly at her clitoris. It was so unexpected that the pleasurable sensation was piercing. She caught her breath and let out a small moan.

He stood up to found her eyes half closed, her lips parted, her breathing shallow. A bead of sweat slipped down her face, ran down her neck and disappeared into her cleavage. The bridge of her bra was damp with sweat and domes of her bra cups had a different kind of wetness, soaked through with her rich, creamy mother's milk.

He reached into a pocket of his trunks and drew out a long yellow and blue silk ribbon. With great care, he threaded it through her metal choker, working it all the way around, forming an elaborate pattern. Finally, he tied the two ends together in a long, looping bow and let the ends trail down her back.

Then he picked up his margarita and tossed it back.

"Let's go to the bar," he said. "I'm parched."

Seated at the bar, Jack ordered a jug of sparkling water. He poured out two more glasses and both Sarah and he sipped them for a short while in silence.

"Sarah," said Jack, putting down his glass. "You're incredibly hot."

"I don't want to have sex with you, Mr. Grierson."

"You brought up sex, not me," said Jack.

Sarah looked embarrassed and she did not say anything further.

* * *

Two hours later, Tim returned to find Sarah and Jack at the poolside bar. She was in her bra and panties, thong slippers with the silken choke collar Jack had woven around her metal choker. There were several other women wearing wet bikinis at the bar and no one was paying any particular attention to Sarah's attire.

"Where's Andrew?" asked Jack as soon as Tim came up.

"He met a little friend on the cruise. They're both in the day care center, playing."

Jack ordered another margarita.

"You've got a lot of catching up to do, my man," he said. "You wife and I have been drinking and talking for hours."

"I'll gladly join you," said Tim with a smile.

He stood between Sarah and Jack's bar stools and sipped his drink, pushing his heavy glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looked from his wife to Jack and back again and laughed.

"Have you had sex with Sarah?" he asked with a laugh. "She's taken off her top and her skirt."

He was obviously joking, so Jack responded in a similar light, bantering tone.

"Of course I was tempted," he Jack, smiling. "And I tried. But she wasn't interested in me. Were you, Sarah?"

"No, I'm not," said Sarah in a low voice. To Jack, she sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "Anyway, you didn't even touch me."

* * *

After Jack left, Tim said, "Wasn't it funny, Mr. Grierson joking about wanting to have sex with you, Sarah?"

"Why, do you think I'm that undesirable?" asked Sarah, a nasty note creeping into her voice.

"He's always in the gossip columns with models and actresses, Sarah," said Tim, placating. "You're pretty, but I never thought Mr. Grierson would notice you."

"Thanks, Tim." There was no mistaking her sarcasm. "But, Mr. Grierson did notice me,"

"You said he didn't touch you."

"That's true."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense! Tell me everything!"

"He made me take off my top. He traced my bra cups, as close as he possibly could with his fingers, but without touching them. I could feel the heat of his hands. Then he made me turn around, slowly, and traced my bra strap all the way around, fingers just above my skin."

"Did it excite you?"

"Yes, very much. My nipples were hard and leaking milk."

"Than what happened?"

"He made me take off my skirt."

Tim licked his lips. His eyes behind his thick glasses were growing glazed.

"And then?"

"He squatted before me. He traced the lines of my thong panties the same way he had traced my bra. His face was only a inch from my crotch."

Tim did not realize that a thin line of drool ran out of the corner of his mouth and ran down to his jaw.

"He made me turn around again, very slowly. When I had my ass in his face, I bent forward, but he still did not touch me. I felt his breath on my ass. When I turned back toward him, he put his face deep into my crotch and blew on my clit."

"How did you feel?"

"I was really excited! I was moist and I could feel my clit really distended."

"Do you want him to fuck you?"

Sarah looked down at Tim's swim trunks. In spite of his hands thrust into his pockets, she could see that he had an erection.

"Do you want me to have sex with Mr. Grierson?" she countered. "Look at you! You've got a hard on!"

"Yes," Tim said, before hastily correcting himself. "I mean no. Yes, I've got a hard on, but no, I don't want you to have sex with Mr. Grierson." He paused before going on. "I once saw him fucking his executive assistant, Farah Hojjat. He had her sprawled face down on his desk, with her short skirt rucked up around her waist. He was fucking her doggie-style, really hard and driving. She was squealing and sounded like she was cumming again and again. He's hung like a horse and her pussy was really tight around him. Then he came and he must have pumped a quart of jism into her, it was such a mess!"

"Talking about Jack having sex with women makes you excited, doesn't it, Tim? You liked watching him fucking Farah, didn't you?"

Tim's expression became pained. His hard on was persistent and would not go down. His memories of Jack fucking Farah Hojjat were vivid, but now he saw Sarah in her place, heard his wife's voice instead of Farah's, crying out as she came. The image was too much for him and he could not stop his ejaculation. He came, soiling his trunks.

"God!" he gasped, unhappily. "I jerked off as I watched him fucking Farah Hojjat - she wears these, tight, short business suits, she always looks so hot! And it makes me excited when you describe what Mr. Grierson did to you. But I don't want YOU to have sex with him. So God help me, why does thinking about it turn me on?"

"I don't want him to fuck me either, Tim," said Sarah. "But he kept me on edge for two hours! I'm about to explode!"

Tim's eyes were round behind his thick glasses. His hands were still in his swim trunks pockets, concealing his softening erection.

"Let's go ... let's go ... back to our suite," stammered Tim in a voice that was higher pitched than usual. "Let's have sex."

Tim and Sarah slowly made their way back to their suite, looking in on the nursery to make sure young Andrew was all right. The baby was hungry and Sarah gave him a quick feed before handing him back to the nursery staff. With Valentine's Day, the nursery had hired extra staff and they shooed Tim and Sarah away, urging them to have a good time.

* * *

Back in their suite, Sarah stripped off her the La Perla bra and panties and stepped into the shower. Tim joined her and grew amorous under the hot water, but he'd just ejaculated and could not summon an erection. Sarah allowed him to soap both their bodies, but it was a frustrating experience for them both.

"Put on the lingerie back on, Sarah," said Tim, hoarsely. "And the metal-silk choker. Let me see you in it."

Sarah took her time, beginning with the bra. She plumped her breasts to adjust it to sit just right. Then she pulled on the thong, snugged it on her crotch with her palm. She snapped on the choker - the silk Jack had threaded through it gave it a unique feel on her throat, metal on silk.

"Shoes," croaked Tim. "High heels."

She walked over the closet and picked up a pair of Miu Miu platform stilettos. She sat back down on the bed and put them on, slowly. Tim felt his heart thumping in his chest and felt a hard on returning.

"I want to try again," he said, indistinctly. "I want to fuck you right now."

"Yes, dear," she said. She lay back on the bed, mutely offering herself to him.

Tim was on her in an instant and mounted her. She helped him and guided his semi-tumescent erection to her mount, pulling her thong aside. He pushed, but he was not hard enough to enter her tight pussy. He tried again and again, and grew increasingly discouraged.

"Hush, dear, don't worry," said Sarah, patting Tim on the head. She was used to Tim not being able to perform - it happened quite often. She snugged her thong back in place, patting her crotch, giving herself small trills of excitement that Tim's performance could not. "You're too tense, you're trying too hard. Why don't you do something to take your mind off it for awhile. Go out and play a round of golf or something. We can try again tonight after dinner."

"OK," said Tim in a low voice.

He pulled on slacks and a polo shirt and poked his feet into some sandals. Then kissing her on the cheek, he left her lying on the bed.

Sarah was in the mood for sex and frustrated, so she thought about masturbating. She reached over for her bag to get her vibrator when her eye fell on a bedside laminated tent card placed by the hotel.

VALENTINE CHAMPAGNE LUNCH AND DANCE - COMPLIMENTARY

"Free champagne," she said to herself. "That should loosen me up."

She pulled on a white silk sleeveless tie-on crop top and zipped up a tight white tube skirt with a high slit. She inspected herself in the mirror. The top revealed more than it concealed of her bra and left her midriff bare. The tight skirt clearly outlined her panties.

"Almost there," she thought. "I'm a top level business executive, but it's a Valentine's Lunch - so I'm going for the stripper look."

She rummaged through her lingerie drawer till she found a pair of stockings and snap-on garters that matched her La Perla bra and panties. Then she sat on the bed and languorously pulled on the stockings, one at a time. She ran her fingers over her nylon-encased upper thighs, tightening and smoothing down the filmy material before snapping on the garters to stretch the stockings into place.

The lunch was in a big gazebo on a rise overlooking the sea. Several men looked Sarah up and down as she walked in. Her blue stockings and garters showed through her translucent white slit skirt. The semi-transparent silk top drew men's eyes to her breasts like magnets. Her rounded ass rolled as she walked on her high platform heels. She found a table by the edge with a sea view and sat down.

There was a dance band playing some upbeat music and several couples were crowded on the small dance floor. Then Jack strolled in, wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a polo shirt and boat shoes. He had a gorgeous woman on his arm, wearing a yellow bikini, pearls and high heels. Sarah instantly recognized Anastasia "Tasha" Olenskaya from CCBC. Jack and Tasha went straight on to the dance floor and joined the couples already there, moving easily to the rhythm. The number ended and the next one was slow. Jack held Tasha close, very close. One hand was on her bikini bra strap, holding her breasts tight against his chest, the other was on bikini panties, between her ass cheeks, holding her crotch against his. They rotated against one another, with sinuous grace.

"Hung like a horse," thought Sarah, venomously. "I bet his big cock is grinding against her pussy."

The number ended and Tasha unwound herself from Jack. Both Tasha and Sarah got a glimpse of the tenting of Jack's khaki shorts before he stuck his hands in his pockets to conceal it. Tasha kissed Jack on the cheek and left, swinging her hips.

"Sergei will be here any minute," Tasha called back over her shoulder. "I better get some clothes on and meet him at reception when he arrives. You know how jealous he gets."

Sarah stood up and walked over to the dance floor.

"Will you dance with me, Mr. Grierson?" she asked.

"Sure," said Jack.

The band started up again with a slow melody, featuring a lot of sax. Jack took Sarah into his arms and guided her around the dance floor. He was an exceptionally adroit dancer and Sarah found herself moving better than she ever had.

"You know what they say," she said into Jack's ear.

"What do they say?"

"Dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire."

"What else do they say?"

"A couple who dance well together will have great sex together."

He held her tighter. She felt his hand on her bra back-strap and one on the butterfly of her thong at the base of her spine. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest and she felt his growing hard-on grinding against her crotch. She did not fight him, but pressed herself against him.

"You're tempting me, Sarah," said Jack.

"Don't worry, Mr. Grierson," she said. "I just want to get you hot and leave you frustrated - like you did to me."

"Don't be so sure," said Jack.

"What are you going to do? Tear my clothes off right here on the dance floor?"

Jack did not reply, but kept their bodies tightly entwined. Her breathing was steady, but shallow and her eyes grew a bit unfocused. As the number ended, Jack suggested that they seat themselves at the bar.

Jack signaled the barman and ordered a jug of margaritas and poured out two glasses. They both sipped their drinks without talking for a while. Then as they set their glasses down, Jack put his arms around her and pulled her to him, growling, "OK, I'm done fighting temptation."

He reveled in the feel of her full breasts against his chest. He kissed her, forcing his thick tongue into her mouth, seeking and taming hers under its weight and strength.

The barman cleared the empty margarita glasses away and laid out fresh ones, studiously ignoring their public display.

Beneath the bar and concealed by their bodies, Jack's pushed his hand up her skirt between her legs. He moved very quickly and by the time she tried to close her thighs against his invasion, his hand was already at her crotch. He ran his finger along her slit, scraping her clit through her panties. He was gratified as she let out a mew, choked back by his thick tongue in her mouth.

The barman moved closer. His eyes bugged out of his head. From his side of the bar, he could not see what Jack was doing, but way Sarah moved and sounded, he could guess. He quickly grew hard himself and put his hands in the pockets of his voluminous shorts to conceal the erection.

Sarah's body moved supplely in Jack's arms. Her arms went around his neck as she rubbed her breasts against his hard chest. He held her by the back of the neck with his left hand, feeling the combination of silk and metal of her choke collar on his palm. Meanwhile, his right hand worked assiduously at her nether lips. The latent heat of hours of frustration grew hotter and her feminine juices were soon flowing copiously. Her profuse sexual secretions ran down his fingers to his wrist and dripped on to the ground and the aroma of her sex was released into the air. The barman surreptitiously drifted closer, drawn by the tangy scent of sexual activity. He breathed it in, getting even harder.