Island Honey

What happened that sizzling hot summer morning was so unexpected, so improbable and had such a far-reaching effect on my state of mind that I still have trouble believing it happened.

But it did. Man, did it ever.

I was enjoying a late-morning cup of coffee on the front porch of my condo, when I heard the door to the apartment next door open and shut. I glanced out through my sunglasses and smiled inwardly as Carla Sanchez strutted out to the pool.

All of the units in the condo faced the pool, giving residents a good bit of privacy from the prying eyes of the world outside, which was kept that way by the electronic security gates. As a result those residents felt secure in coming out quite scantily clad.

I smiled even wider and stared even harder when Carla peeled off the T-shirt she'd been wearing to reveal one of the skimpiest little bikinis I'd ever seen. It was black and just did cover all the strategic areas that needed covering.

This was the first time I'd seen Carla out by the pool in that particular bikini. The couple of times before that I'd seen her out by the pool, her swimsuits had been a little more modest, and I wondered about the change in appearance.

Not that I minded. Oh, heavens no. Let's just say that Carla Sanchez was, um, very easy on the eyes.

Carla was 18, maybe 19, and about average in height, perhaps 5-foot-5, and slender, but not skinny, with a cute little bubble butt and teacup-sized breasts.

She had the deep, natural tan of a native, enhanced -- as I watched -- by a generous application of suntan oil that left her sleek body shining in the warm sun.

But what made the whole package was her breathtaking looks, which I was finding typical of the women of Puerto Rico. She had a dazzling smile, smoldering dark-brown eyes topped with a head of rich black hair that she wore fairly short.

Although it was a hot morning, like most days here, the sea breeze from the nearby Atlantic Ocean kept things relatively cool, even for July.

On the whole, I was finding life a little more bearable now that I'd gotten settled in. I had come to this place to lick my wounds after my divorce had become final, and to de-stress after taking early retirement from my company.

I had worked hard and risen up the corporate ladder, but now at age 50, I'd sort of hit the wall. When my wife -- make that my ex-wife -- had hit me with her request for a divorce, it seemed to bring my whole life up to that moment to a climax.

We had raised a son and a daughter, but they were both out of college and on their own, and with them gone we'd drifted apart and she'd somehow reconnected with an old boyfriend. I never found out exactly how.

I'll give her credit, she didn't cheat on me, and she was candid about the fact that she was taking a risk she might regret. But she wanted this renewed relationship, and was willing to turn her back on 27 years of marriage to me to go for it.

At first, I was hurt emotionally, and part of me wanted to fight for our marriage. But when I reflected on it, I realized that we hadn't had any real closeness for quite some time, largely because I'd kept myself focused on working, and she'd been busy with her volunteer work and her social life that she made apart from me.

Truthfully, I just didn't have the energy to fight for someone who didn't want to be with me any more, and neither did she. As a result, the split was amiable, and because of that I didn't get screwed on the settlement.

She kept the house, which she had maintained as a stay-at-home mom all these years, buying out my share of the equity. But the tradeoff was she didn't get any part of my 401K from work. I was generous, but not lavish, in offering alimony, which meant she'd probably have to go back to work.

And speaking of work, I was getting burned out on the corporate grind. So I cashed in, so to speak. I had plenty of money to live on, while still paying my ex-wife a decent bit for alimony, and my area of expertise is such that I can work as a consultant if I choose.

I started casting about for some place I could go to be alone, but not too alone, and I had always loved Puerto Rico. I was a Navy brat growing up, and I had lived there for two years when I was 14 and 15, while my dad was stationed at Roosevelt Roads.

Those two years had been two of the best years of my life as a kid, largely because I had my first girlfriend there. Later, I'd made several trips back and had gotten to know my way around.

Puerto Rico is much more than an island playground. Sure, it's got beaches, great beaches, but it's also got the rain forest, which I love as much as the sun, sand and surf. It's also got some great cities, and the most beautiful women in the world.

Yes, it does have poverty and some fairly dangerous barrios, and, yes, the roads can be tricky and the drivers trickier, especially in the interior of the island.

But on the whole, I couldn't think of any place I'd rather retreat to.

So I got a realtor friend who helped get me a good deal on a condo in Rio Mar, on the Atlantic coast east of San Juan, and here I was sipping good stout Puerto Rican coffee and admiring Carla Sanchez' nearly-naked body.

Seeing as it was a weekday morning, no one else was at the pool, so I decided now was as good a time as any to take a cooling dip.

By the time I had gone back in to change into my swim trunks and grab a bottle of water, Carla had been in the water and was now laid back on a lounge chair gathering rays. Her dark hair was slicked back and I could see little beads of water on her dark body.

When I walked up, Carla looked up and smiled warmly. At that moment, I thanked myself for staying in good physical condition. I worked out pretty regularly, and while my hair was mostly silver now, I still had most of it.

I wasn't sure if I had what it took to catch the eye of a pretty 19-year-old island honey, but I felt like I could at least get into the game with this girl if I tried. After all, we weren't complete strangers.

Her parents had invited me to dinner not long after I moved in and I'd gotten to know her a little. She was a smart girl who was attending the university in San Juan and was interested in my line of work, so we'd engaged in a pleasant conversation.

But there was an undercurrent of mischief in her eyes as she talked that suggested a wildness that might not take much to coax out of her.

Of course, I figured the idea that a girl like her would find a man my age to her liking was pretty absurd. But I could dream, couldn't I?

Even though Maureen, my ex, had taken pains to reassure me throughout our divorce that I wasn't the cause of her loss of interest in me, I couldn't help but be deflated emotionally and sexually.

I'd felt rejected, and as a result, I hadn't had a lot of interest in dating or engaging in the pursuit of sex. I jacked off some, just to ease the ache in my loins, but I hadn't actually made love to a woman since before Maureen had hit me with her request for a divorce.

Nevertheless, that had been before I arrived in Puerto Rico. I was feeling better about myself these days and had been scouting around for some places where I might check out the local talent. I was beginning to think I might not have to scout very far afield.

"Olla, Senor Thornton," Carla said with a smile in her voice, breaking me out of my reverie.

"Please, call me Mitchell," I replied in English. "And how are you this fine morning?"

"Buena," she said. "Very nice."

The way she said, "nice," and the smile on her face as she said it, sent a chill all the way to the end of my cock as I set my stuff down on one of the other loungers.

"You look very nice yourself," I said, again in English. "I don't think I've seen you out in that bikini."

At the time, I could speak basic Spanish and could read it a little better, but I wasn't comfortable enough with the language yet to speak it conversationally. Later, as I got more at ease, I'd find myself speaking Spanish more and more.

But, really, people on the island are so thoroughly Americanized now that you can go just about anywhere and people speak very good English. Carla was no exception.

"Oh, my Papa and Mama don't like for me to, um, show off too much," she said, with a weird little smile on her face. "But they aren't here. They left this morning to visit my Tia in New York. They'll be gone for a week."

That was interesting news, interesting news indeed. I had gathered from meeting her parents that they were fairly conservative. Raul Sanchez was an investment banker in San Juan and Gisela Sanchez appeared to come from old -- very old -- money.

At any rate, the fact that they were gone, and would be gone for awhile, definitely piqued my interest.

The water was nice as I eased myself into the pool. I swam several laps, nothing too strenuous, but I was doing more than just floating.

At length, I got out, dried off, gooped myself up so I wouldn't burn, then sat back with my bottle of water to finish reading the newspaper I'd started while I'd been sitting on my porch.

As I did, I occasionally glanced over at Carla, who was lying back and apparently dozing behind her shades. What I saw was positively groin-tightening.

Her top was stretched across her fine little titties, with her stiff nipples poking into the material. The thong bottom was also tight across her crotch, and what wasn't covered appeared to be as smooth as a baby's butt.

Just then, she rolled over onto her stomach, reached back and loosened the ties to her top, then looked over at me.

She reached down, grabbed the bottle of tanning oil and offered it up to me.

"Senor Th- ... er, Mitchell," she said in an accented voice that sounded like a purr. "Could you please do my back?"

Like I was going to say no?

I sat on the edge of the chair, dribbled some of the oil over her back and massaged it into her smooth skin. I resisted the urge to rub the oil on her firm butt, although she probably wouldn't have objected.

Feeling my cock starting to swell after I was done, I decided to slide back into the pool to cool off -- and, perhaps, get a closer look at what Carla had on display.

I lolled around in the water, trying not to stare, but that was a lost cause when Carla abruptly turned over, leaving the top lying on the chair.

"I hate tan lines," she said as she tossed the tiny top to the side. Then she gave me a seductive smile that had me pleasantly confused.

Was she coming on to me? Only the relative coolness of the water kept my cock from bursting through the material of my shorts, and as it was, it was still semi-hard.

Carla had the most perfect tits I think I'd ever seen. I'll admit, it had been awhile since I'd seen a naked pair of breasts other than my ex-wife's. But as I thought back to the girls I'd dated and bedded before I met the woman I'd marry, I'd never seen a nicer set.

Like I said, they weren't real big, but just enough to latch onto, with a pair of quarter-sized areoles and little eraser-sized nipples.

I had heard from some idle talk around the condo that occasionally some of the more adventurous women tanned topless, but this was the first time I'd seen it with my own eyes.

For that reason, I felt like I needed to proceed cautiously. I didn't want to make a move that could be misinterpreted, and risk pissing off my neighbor. Still, it wouldn't hurt to fish a little.

I leaned against the side of the pool and just gazed over at where Carla lay back on the lounge.

As I watched, she started to slowly move her left hand over her breast and began to idly caress the nipple of her left breast. I stared in growing disbelief as she started to squirm on the hot lounge chair.

The sun gleamed off her well-oiled body as she lay back and softly pleasured herself. Then my jaw dropped into the pool as her right hand snaked between her legs and pulled the crotch of her bikini bottoms aside.

I was treated to the succulent sight of Carla's dark pink -- almost purple -- labia, and they were wet and engorged with incipient lust. She swept her middle finger over her clit and down between her lips, swirling it around in her juicy hole.

"Enjoying the show?" she purred, her Hispanic accent more pronounced than ever.

"You're getting into dangerous territory, my dear," I said in a low voice.

"Buena," she answered, looking over her shades at me. "That's what I want."

"Are you sure?" I said. "Hell, girl, I'm just a gray-haired old man."

"That's just it," she said, a touch of desperation in her voice. "You're a man; not like these boys I see here and at school. I want a man, a real man. Muy hombre. You."

I was out of the pool in a flash, and I made no attempt to conceal the fruits of her labor, which sat fat and hungry in my pants. I sat on the lounge beside her and ran my hands over Carla's body as she pulled the glasses onto the top of her head and stared at me with naked lust in her eyes.

Abruptly, I stood up and walked over to gather my things.

"Come on," I said to Carla, and she scurried to pick up her stuff.

I could see her little titties jiggling nicely as she hurried to meet my purposeful strides.

"Mitchell?" she asked, sounding a little confused. I simply put a finger to my lips and smiled as I fumbled with the front door to my apartment.

As soon we passed the threshold and the door shut, I dropped everything in my hands and swept Carla into my embrace. She gave a quick little squeal as she dropped her things and met me in the hallway.

Our oily-slick bodies gave off an electric charge as our lips met and our tongues engaged in furious battle. Her hard little nips dug into my chest, sending rays of lust straight to my cock, which was aching to get at the fount of its desire.

I ran my tongue down her jaw line and moved down to her tits. There was the oily taste of bananas as I suckled her nipples, while her sharp fingernails gripped the top of my head.

Having had my fill of oily tits, I moved back up and shared my taste with Carla. We were so far gone down the road of lust, neither one of us cared. All we were really interested in was getting naked and getting it on.

I reached down and untied the strings holding Carla's bikini bottoms on her butt, while she pulled my swim trunks off my hips.

As soon as they hit the floor, I stepped out of them and pulled her a little closer to me, so that my throbbing hard-on poked her in the belly. I reached down and slid two fingers between her slippery lips, finishing with a flourish around her rock-hard clit.

Despite my painfully-needy erection, I wasn't quite ready to fuck this little minx, far from it. She wanted an older man who knew how to make love to a woman, then, by God, that's exactly what she was going to get, my crying need be damned.

I dropped onto my knees, lifted her right leg and wrapped it around my shoulder, the better to get an up-close-and-personal look at Carla's pretty pussy.

And, my God, what a pretty pussy it was.

She had a thick, but well-trimmed, bush of jet-black curls that framed a luscious set of labia that were just plump enough to be noticed without being prominent. And her clit was a hard little ball of nerves that just begged to be touched and played with.

Needless to say, I answered the call. I stroked her with a couple of fingers and was gratified to hear her gasp of pleasure as I lightly rimmed her lips and brushed her clit.

Abruptly, I slid my middle finger into her depths, and Carla jerked and gave out a sharp little gasp. Carla's pussy was slick and hot with her arousal, with a distinctive womanly aroma that was enough to whet my appetite, but not so strong as the make me back away.

In fact, it appeared she'd showered before hitting the pool, plus she'd taken one dip in the pool, giving her a slight scent of chlorine.

That, combined with her arousal, the suntan oil and the sweat from the sun produced an intoxicating air that had me sitting in a near-frenzy.

But I kept a grip on myself, as I inhaled her essence. I fingered her juicy cunt with several deep thrusts, then suddenly removed my finger, wrapped my hands on her butt and brought my mouth onto her delectable hole.

Carla squealed and gasped out something in Spanish that I didn't understand exactly, but what I loosely translated as, "oh, my God."

I vacuumed her pussy into my mouth, slid my tongue along her slit, then kissed her labia while plunging my tongue into her clenching hole, finishing with a rousing flourish over her clit, which I could actually feel throbbing in need.

Then I did it all over again, and again, and again, until Carla was humping my face and her juices were running down my chin.

I couldn't help myself, I had to get my motor primed, so I wrapped my left hand around my cock and was amazed at how hard it had gotten, without any manual stimulation whatsoever.

But I was still waiting for something specific as I feasted greedily on Carla's steaming hot box, and it didn't take long before I got what I was waiting for.

With an incoherent yell and a full-body shudder, Carla exploded in orgasm. Her leg tightened around my shoulder as she climaxed heavily. In fact, I had to pull away quickly because it seemed like she was about to faint.

I gathered her semi-limp form in my arms and kissed her deeply, ravenously, our oily and sweaty bodies creating sparks of lust.

Carla looked up at me with dewy eyes and spoke in a husky voice.

"Muy hombre," she said. "Now, fuck me."

And, man was I ready.

We didn't even wait to cast around for a bed or even any place to lay down. I just backed her into the little kitchenette, lifted her up onto the breakfast table and took her standing up.

Her right leg was propped on the table and the other on the chair next to her, while she clutched my shoulders with her hands. I slid the head of my cock along her drooling lips, and she jerked heavily as the tip of my cock speared her clit.

A couple of times to prime the pump, so to speak, then I slid my cock past her gates and into the tightest, hottest, juiciest pussy I've ever had the pleasure of fucking.

Maureen had certainly never been this tight, and it had been years since she'd been anywhere near this hot. Part of that may have been my fault, for letting our lust grow cool, but I was determined to make up for lost time now that I was single again.

Beginning with Carla Sanchez.

I drove my cock right on up her sugar walls to the hilt, and while she was tight, she took all of me. It was a nearly-perfect fit. Mine's not a donkey dick, by any means, but it ain't shabby, and it filled Carla's twitching cunt like it was made for me.

At first, I just backed off a little, giving her little stabbing thrusts as I willed myself to control my passion. Truthfully, I'd had a momentary spasm of worry as I approached her widespread legs that I'd get it in and shoot off before I could enjoy myself.

But once the initial rush passed, I knew I was in command, like I'd always been earlier in my life.

While I wasn't exactly a ladies man before I met Maureen, I'd usually had girlfriends, most of those relationships had been sexual and without exception the sex had been good. I can only recall a couple that ended on a bad note, and they weren't because of sex.

For me, fucking delectable young Carla Sanchez was like riding a bicycle. Once I got back in the saddle, I knew exactly what to do.

And as my confidence climbed and I became more comfortable with Carla's snapping pussy, I began to fuck her with more authority, giving her exactly what she'd said she wanted -- a real man, an experienced man, who could show her what fucking was all about.

As I picked up speed, Carla threw her head back and gasped out her lust, letting out a staccato burst of Spanish that let me know I was doing something right.