Hot Sand: Hilton Head

I let myself go, more than I should have with a colleague. At one point, when the rhythm took me, I held her by the waist and ground my pelvis against hers. It was the music and the drinks that made me do it, and maybe some hormonal friskiness left over from my hours with Tina.

"Easy, big boy," Joan said, smiling. "Keep going like that and I'll have to break out the condoms I brought with me."

Still dancing, close but not touching, I'm sure my face showed my surprise. "You...brought some?" I said. "What about...your husband?"

She put her finger to her lips, the international signal for 'stay quiet.' She leaned in again to tell me her secret. "I play a little, very occasionally. I'm only telling you because now I know you do, too. We can keep each other's secrets, right?"

I wondered how was she so sure of what had happened to me. Was it written all over my face when I'd finally found her at the afternoon seminar? Are pheromones really a thing? Was the smell of Tina that ripe on me? For whatever reason, she knew my secret, and not only didn't it bother her, it made her eyes sparkle.

"What do you mean by 'play a little'?" I asked, still dancing. "You mean...at these conventions?"

Joan nodded, smirking, and she leaned in again. "I can't believe I'm telling you this," she said.

"We've been to these things together three times," I said. "For the last three years."

Joan nodded, looked embarrassed. Either the conversation, or the dancing, was making her face red. "That's what I mean by very occasionally," she said. "You'll think I'm crazy, but I think it helps my marriage."

She smiled a funny smile at my funny smile, both of us deep into new and confusing territory. The music sounded rubbery, elastic, and our up-until-then 'just colleagues' relationship suddenly felt that way, too. I was dancing with someone new all of a sudden, someone sexy, someone full of mystery. Was this the Joan I'd known for ten years? The donut lover with the coffee mug that says World's Best Mom? The wearer of conservative, high-necked dresses and low, chunky-heeled shoes? I was beginning to understand the outfit she had on: the black capris that snugly showed off her meaty thighs in a way I couldn't ever remember seeing; the white, buttonless wrap blouse that showed off her buxom curves, a blouse cut lower than her office apparel, enough to show off the entirety of her pretty, dangly silver necklace, drawing the eye to the very nice beginnings of her undoubtedly deep cleavage. The shoes she was dancing in weren't clunky, either. It suddenly dawned on me that they were sexy. Yes, they had mildly chunky heals, but they were higher and not at all unpleasant, and the rest of the little black shoes was almost nothing, just a minimal number of spaghetti-thin sandal straps, rendering her painted-toenail feet virtually bare.

"You're a good dancer," she said, smiling at me in a new way.

A new, faster song began, with a beguiling rhythm. Joan took off her lightweight blazer, tossed it to me, said, "Want to hold that for me?" It was the moment I realized Joan can really dance. The flesh of all of her curves seemed to loosen in a delightful way, her breasts giving whatever bra she was wearing a springy workout. I'd never thought of her as a big breasted woman, but there they were, tits-a-plenty, movin' and groovin', surprising the hell out of me. "Don't chicken out on me now," she said, smiling at my reticence as she let the music take her. "We're in this together, right?"

The lump in my pants is what worried me. Watching Joan's body do new and exciting things had triggered me. It's Joan from work I kept telling myself, still unable to believe how she was cutting loose. From the neck up? Yes, that was Joan, smiling brighter than usual, with more and sexier eye makeup on, but it was definitely her. From the neck down? No, this was somebody new. She turned and gave me the ass view of her dancing and I never would have guessed it was her. Without her blazer on there was a fuller view, and her ass was something special, tightly and beautifully packed into what I was now realizing were stretchy pants. No, it's not a slim and trim ass, but I'll be dammed if it didn't give me an even bigger lump in my pants than the one I had before.

Still giving me the full-sexy backside view of her writhing dance, she looked over her shoulder at me, extended her arm out behind her, reaching for me. Her whole body gyrated to the loud, kick-ass beat. I took her hand and she pulled me to her, Joan the actuarial analyst, twerking like a teenager. Suddenly, the hard lump in my pants was tight against her, squeezed and massaged by her soft, warm, gyrating, thinly covered ass. My cock, with a mind of its own, felt hard as wood. Joan spun on a dime, facing me. With her arms on my shoulders, her pelvis danced tight against mine, giving my hard cock no quarter. "Oh yeah," she said. "We're doin' this. Want to fuck me?"

"Yes," I said, not thinking about anything but how good her movements felt against my cock. "Yes, I do."

She smiled, took my hand, and we were gone, into a cab, where she gave me a blowjob with the driver blatantly watching in his rearview mirror. He even adjusted it downward so he could see better. I should have said something, "Eyes on the road," or something like that, but I was so stunned by the situation that I couldn't. I just sat there, with Joan — Joan from the office — showing true, exciting hunger for my cock.

"I can smell her on you," she purred, stroking me with her hand while she took a breather. "Who was she? What kind of woman breaks down Brian Redfeld's defenses?"

The mischief in Joan's eyes was intense, lit only by passing neon and flashes of streetlights. I was glad I was so hard, and glad, in a way, that all the sex with Tina was keeping me from cumming too soon. Squirting cum with a cab driver watching wasn't exactly what I wanted to do.

Joan's mouth was on me again, but she stopped for a second, saying, "I'm listening. Tell me."

"I met her on the beach," I said. "I skipped the lunch meeting and went to the beach."

"Did you change your clothes? Were you in a bathing suit?" asked Joan, getting right back to her lovely wet blowjob.

"Yeah, I changed." I said, becoming breathless.

"You just met her? Were you looking?" asked Joan, watching my eyes as she used her tongue to lick and massage my balls.

"No, not looking. I never have."

"I know," she said. "That's what makes this perfect. No one will suspect anything."

She was right about that, as far as I knew. Joan was at the other end of the spectrum from the office sexpot, and so was I. I was seriously rethinking my assessment of Joan, though, going back through my memories of her sparkly eyes in certain situations, her subtle looks that didn't seem like anything at the time, but maybe were. She's a woman, after all, a pretty one, and sexy feelings are only human. Why had I missed it? Why didn't I have a clue about her?

The cab ride ended, Joan stuffed my still mighty hard cock into my pants, we showered the driver with too many dollar bills, and we walked to the elevators. Luckily we had one to ourselves. "So, where did you fuck this mystery woman," Joan asked, smirking at my befuddled look. "You fucked her, didn't you?"

I nodded. "Her room. Her trip down here is to celebrate a divorce."

"Wow!" Joan said. "So...you were her first, maybe?"

I nodded.

"Was she super horny?"

I nodded.

"I hope you have something left for me, because I'm super horny, too. Doing this with you is...let's just say I'm pretty worked up. I've had a crush on you for fucking ever."

It was surprising to hear Joan use dirty words, but it was far from the last of them I'd hear from her. The woman is a dynamo in bed, more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Talking dirty, taking charge, asking for everything, and I mean everything. We started with a condom on my cock, but before too long she pulled it off. "You're clean. I'm clean. We don't need this."

Joan likes things a little rough, and she kept encouraging me to follow suit. After we'd had a nice start to things — doggy-style was how she first gave herself to me — she said, "Switch off that nice guy stuff and just fuck the shit outta me," with a persuasive lustiness in her voice that made me want to do it.

We made a racket, that's for sure. It was only 10pm when we'd arrived back at the hotel, so not terribly late for sex noise, but she made plenty of it. It was an absolute thrill, I have to say. I felt like the king of the world again, making one of the office women cum, over, and over again. I'm hoping she felt the same. She seemed truly tickled that it was me she was fucking, me she was cumming on, me who was making her cry "Harder!...Oh my God!...Ye-e-e-esssssss!

She giggled when she rode me cowgirl style, I think because she had a clear view of just who she was on. Me. Brian Redfeld. She said my full name many times, smiling, eyes twinkling. I guess she wasn't kidding about having a little crush on me. And from my point of view, more than once I had to remind myself that this voluptuous sexual dynamo was Joan from the office. It seemed unbelievable, even after an hour, even after two hours.

At one point during it all, Joan went to her suitcase and pulled out a nice big dildo. Amazed, I said, "You travel with that? What if they search your bags?"

She shrugged. "Who cares." She had something else in her hand — a small bottle of lube. She said, "Since there's only one of you, you get my ass and Dicky here gets my pussy. You ever DP anyone?"

My face showed my naiveté. Joan's face brightened with mischief. "Double penetration," she said. "A cock in each hole."

"Oh my God," I said. "You do that?"

"I want to," she said. "I've done anal, but...this'll be new. I think it'll work. Want to try it?"

"I've never..."

"Never done anal?" she said. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah, I mean...if you do."

"Oh, I totally do," she said, with that look of mischief again. "Brian Redfeld in my ass? Yes please."

As the next few seconds passed, I realized that putting my cock deep in Joan Morgan's astonishing ass was a 'yes please' for me, too.

I shouldn't have been surprised that she surprised me again, but she did. Earlier, without mentioning Tina's name, I told Joan that Tina and I had fucked out on the balcony, and Joan, it turned out, wanted some of that action, too. So out she dragged me, both of us buck naked, out to her ocean view, pool view, outdoor bar view balcony, with one hand on mine and the other holding 'Dicky' and the lube bottle. "You're crazy," I said. "Out here? Look at all those people down there."

"We're up high. You already did this you said, right?"

"Yeah, but..."

Joan bent over the balcony railing, shutting me up with the sight of her round, big booty ass beckoning me. "Work the dildo in first," she said "Fuck my pussy with it."

I felt stunned. Joan was fully committed, hanging right out into the view of whoever cared to look, much more blatantly than Tina had done. The moon lit the night, and the light from Tina's room illuminated us softly. The outdoor bar below us couldn't be heard, we were too far up, so that gave me small comfort. All of that left my mind, though, when I started working Dicky into Joan's pussy. She made her lovely noises and I was lost in her again.

I fucked her with the big dildo and she loved it. "Oh, yeah!...Fuck, yeah!" she said. After I got going with it I worked the dildo with one hand, standing off to the side of her so I could see her lovely big tits hanging into South Carolina's salty gravity, out over the rail where the world could see them. "Put it all the way in," she quietly begged. "All the way."

It's a somewhat soft, flexible dildo, thickly girthy, and a good eight inches long. A damn big cock. The balls on the end of it kept it from being lost inside Joan's pussy, if such a thing can happen. When it was fully in, balls against her, she handed me the lube. "Your turn, big boy," she said, happily breathless. "Fuck my ass. And none of that nice guy shit, either. Fuck it hard."

Her words stiffened my cock even more, even stiffer than 'Dicky'. I lubed her dark hole, I lubed my cock, and pressed it into Joan Morgan's asshole, a tighter, more extraordinary place than I could have ever imagined.

"Fuck!" she quietly shrieked. "I've only had a little guy in there. Wow!"

Wow was right. Soon I was fucking, soon I was deep, soon I was giving it to her hard, the way she wanted. Joan's mind was lost, her voice emanating a low howling wail, her hands wide at her sides, gripping the rail with white-knuckled fists. As my pelvis slapped into the jiggly, quaking flesh of her ass, I could feel the dildo against my balls with each thrust, the slap slap slap of our coming together loud and clear to any neighbors within earshot. I reached for Joan's pendulous tits, wondering if we'd both tumble over, falling to our death with my cock and Dicky still deep inside her. The feel of my hands on her tits sent Joan into a series of wild, loud orgasms, her crying, mumbling words occasionally morphing into recognizable phrases. "Yeah! " she cried. "Fuck my ass! " Her cries turned mumbly again, and then, even louder, "Do it!...Do it!...Do it! " Her orgasms spasmed her, shakier and shakier as her faculties left her, both physically and mentally. My own body was on autopilot, thudding into her ass with authority. I'd already cum again, deep in her ass, but I was still at it, hips thrusting quick and somehow athletic, the muggy Carolina air shining me to the point of dripping. Joan's body shone with warm sweat, too, her tits not only soft but slippery in my hands. When her body was limp and her voice was nothing but gasping breath, I lifted her to upright, my cock and Dicky still in her. We stood there, my arms around her, the lights, stars, and dark ocean a blur. And then we giggled. We'd fucked each other silly.

Later, when we were dressing, Joan said, "Maybe, if we're both at the next convention, we could each find somebody, team up, and have a little party."

"You mean...all together? " I'm afraid I said it with an embarrassing amount of surprise in my voice.

Joan chuckled. "Don't tell me you've never heard of such a thing."

"No, but...have you done that?"

"No," she said. "Always wanted to. Having two men touch me is a big fantasy."

"Wow," I said, "Yeah I can..."

"You can what?"

"I can...picture it."

Joan looked a little surprised, and happy. "Wow. Knowing how well you and I put projects together at work, this should be a piece of cake. I guess I've got a lot to look forward to."

"You actually think it's possible?"

Joan smirked. "At these conventions? Brian, there's all kinds of shenanigans going on at these things. I've heard stories. You haven't? Don't guys talk about that kind of thing?"

"I guess I haven't been paying attention."

"That's because you're a good man. I'd feel like I corrupted you except for what you did with that woman earlier. You joined the club all on your own. I want to say I'm proud of you, but...I think my views on it are skewed."

We slept in our own beds that night. I don't know how Joan felt about it, but to me it felt like the proper thing to do. We weren't starting an affair; neither one of us wanted that, or made any comments about one. No, it was purely a business trip fling, although, traveling and eating together, as we did, sort of muddied the waters a bit and deepened our connection.

The next day we had breakfast together. "So, now that you've slept on it, do you still like the club you've joined?" Joan asked.

"I like my game partner, very much," I said.

Joan smiled. We looked at the seminar schedule and planned out our day. We both agreed the lunch meeting was better used as beach time, two hours to relax after a busy, physically exhausting first day. "I'm curious to see what Brian Redfeld looks like in a bathing suit," she said. "And yes, I will be telling the girls at the office."

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?" I said, smiling. I took a free look at the decidedly conservative business casual clothes she had on that day. "You know, the guys are going to be even more curious about you. You cover it all up so...effectively."

"Believe it or not," she said, "at my last job I was told I was too curvy. By a woman boss, no less. She said it would be good for my career to dress conservatively, so...that's what that is all about. Believe me, I'd love to have all you guys at the office look at me a little more. When I'm away from work I'm a bit of a slut for the male gaze, I'm afraid. My husband laughs about it. He likes it, though."

"Yeah, it sounds like fun. My wife's not like that."

"No? I've never met her, have I?"

"I don't think so," I said. "She avoids work parties. She used to go to them, a long time ago, but not anymore."

Joan nodded. "Do you think your separation will stick? I probably shouldn't say this, but there are some girls at the office who wouldn't mind if it did."

"Oh yeah? Are they the ones you're going to describe my bathing-suit body too?"

"Yup," Joan said, smiling. "Them's the ones. I'll bet you dinner sometime that they melt, right there on the floor, when I tell them I went to the beach with you."

"How do you know that? You haven't even seen me yet."

"Brian. I've seen all of you, remember? Even that cute little asshole that you like to have licked."

Joan and I both blushed. I was a somewhat surprised to see her face redden, what with her being the one with experience, sort of an old pro at these kind of convention flings, but I guess our knowing each other and working together had something to do with her discomposure. The blush was certainly cute on her.

Her short but sweetly graphic explication of just one little moment of our deeply carnal fun embarrassed us right back into business colleague mode. We paid the waitress as our blushes faded, then we were off on our own, separated, taking in the morning seminars.

In my room at ten minutes till noon, I heard a knock at my door. I let Joan in, her voluptuous body clad in a hot-pink bikini with a white and black kimono-style robe over it, untied, open down the front. She set the beach bag she was carrying down on the rug. "Oh, goodie, I got here in time to watch you strip," she said, smiling.

Still in my polo shirt and chinos, I took off the shirt and tossed it on the bed.

"Best. Trip. Ever," she said, settling in to a comfortable chair, with her eyes firmly on me. "Did I tell you that, last night?"

Her smile was contagious. "You're seriously going to watch me?" I said. "Because, things are already happening. I wouldn't want you to blush again, when you see what you've done to me."

Her smile became even more beautiful, and yes, she was blushing when my cock came into view, already hard, more so than even I thought it would be.

"Wow," she said. "You are a potent man, Brian Redfeld. Okay, just a quickie. We've only got two hours and I want to get some sun."

Joan was quickly in doggy style position on the bed, with her knees near the edge and her head and shoulders down on the mattress. She reached behind, pulling the gusset of her bikini away from her glistening pussy, just enough for me to enter. "Tell me when you're cumming. It'll be cleaner if I take it in my mouth."

"Cleaner, or dirtier?" I said, just before we both moaned as I sunk my hard inches into her. "You're a fabulously dirty woman."

"Am I?" she said, her voice a sexy sigh as I started to fuck her. "I love that you think that." She moaned deeply, and said, "Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me till you cum."

It didn't take long. Joan's ass just astonishes me, completely converting me to a big booty lover. Well, maybe not converting, but I certainly added big sexy asses to the list of things I love.