Not All of It was Arranged

The small villa that she had rented for her stay was perfect, not too secluded and certainly private, with the plunge pool to be seen from the living room window and its surface persuading you, like an optical illusion, that it was part of the sea beyond, a clever trick of the eye that had been created by the architect.

She put a hand to her greying billowing hair as the sea breeze caught it, the sliding and folding doors opening outwards and arousing a feeling of certainty for what she had decided to do while she was here. It was to be no ordinary holiday and certainly, not one to be spent on her own.

Betty knew that she wasn't here simply for the sex but an excess of it and with a man that she had chosen because of what he packed, for his rugged and tattooed appearance, the glistening tan of his skin, and the wondering look that was to be seen in his eyes, for his smile that creased a bearded face. To have chosen a male escort was a departure from everything that she had known in her life, but she longed for a radical departure from all that had gone on before in a failed marriage.

She was impatient to move on and the man that she had spoken to, and chosen, after trawling the internet for someone who lived and worked on this Balearic Island was just the man. The images she had seen on the internet listing for him had been enough, and his willingness to talk through what she, or any client, wanted had eased away her doubts on whether to go through with it.

"I will ask no questions, Betty," he had assured her in his deep, heavily accented, and captivating voice, his smile revealing brilliant white teeth against his tanned and bearded face. Vanity would have persuaded the man to have treatment to prolong his good looks, and rigorous exercise to maintain a toned body. "You have your reasons."

She had stopped herself from asking why a man of his age was still 'putting it about' in these ways, but he was so well-dressed and acted with such assurance that she believed that he was enslaved by his occupation, even by some of the women that he met and bedded. If what he charged her was anything to go by, he did well out of it.

The same could also be said of her, that she was rebelling and wanting to satisfy her hunger after a failed and, in the end, sexless marriage that anyone looking at her would find difficult to believe. Those times were behind her now and her conscience could be clear about what she had set out to do.

Everything would be made real again and her body's cravings satisfied. She would not have long to wait before she stepped out onto a quite different path and with a man she scarcely knew. Their first meeting would decide it for her; whether to continue as arranged.

There was something about the Englishwoman that had persuaded him to spend more time with her than was usual with those he was paid to call on.

Betty had asked for company, through the day and night. He had agreed to be with her for three of them. She had it all worked out, how the days were to be filled, how they would sample all that the island's nightlife had to offer, and then for him to bring to her what she missed and had made so obvious in what she had said as being the reasons for finding him.

"You have it all worked out," he had said in some dismay. "You leave little for me to do."

"Oh yes I have, as you'll find out!" she had laughed and he had seen a graceful move of her hand to sweep away the tumble of her hair and on an unwavering look at him, remote as the link was; Betty's movements stretching her dress over what was to his sight a captivatingly tended but fleshy figure. It didn't belong to a woman of her age and it was her certain ways, of making all the arrangements, that drew him to her.

"Be with me the day after I arrive on the island. I will have the place just as I want it by the time you arrive, Antonio, say at three and at the harbor restaurant I told you about?"

"Seguro que si," he'd replied before lapsing back into English, but she had understood. "Until then. I also have the villa's address and I will find you."

"I'm counting on it." Betty had looked at him, suggestively, for a moment longer before the link was broken.

Betty wasn't the first woman to have told him that he looked older than other guys that were to be found on the websites that catered to a woman's particular and uncomplicated needs. His answer had been only too clear and simple.

"I like surprises in whom I am with and what we do."

Now, as he parked his convertible Audi A3 in a spare slot close to the harbor, and the place they had agreed to meet for the first time, he looked forward with keen anticipation to meeting her. If she looked as good as Betty had appeared over the ether, everything would be fine. He would see to it that it was so.

Of that, he had no doubts.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me like this," she smiled, her nervousness disappearing, almost in an instant, as she gazed at the man before her. The photos posted on the web did not do him justice, but she supposed that in mystery there also lay anticipation.

He was suave and looked so rakishly handsome in his light blue summer suit and open-necked white shirt. She resisted the temptation to lean over and kiss him, to feel the touch of his full lips on her mouth. They sipped on their drinks, chatted, and were at ease, seated under a parasol that kept at bay the fierce heat of the sun.

"You are the first who has planned everything in the way that you have, Betty," he smiled, his eyes taking in her appearance before he again put on his sunglasses. She did the same and they could each study the other as they talked and broke through the early formalities of what would be an unusual encounter, especially for her.

There was to be nothing tawdry about their arrangement, of that she was now sure, or he would not have paid her the compliment of being clothed so smartly. She had done the same, paying attention to her appearance even if those to be seen on holiday all around them were dressed so casually. They could be mistaken for a well-to-do couple who did not let their standard slip, even on holiday.

Would he kiss her, she had wondered, as he stepped forward to greet her and held out two red roses in a touch of gallantry that she had not expected.

Yes, she wanted him to kiss her and settle the anxiety she felt about what she was embarking upon with a stranger, but a man to whom she already felt insanely attracted; a man whose purpose to be with her could not be concealed by suave behavior, his sense of dress, and by the engaging look of his eyes upon her.

She wanted his kisses, knew that again as she remembered how she had wondered about the man as she had again looked at his web page and the picture on it that left nothing for her to imagine about what he would bring. She'd do anything now to share in his kisses, to feel his lips upon her mouth, the brush of his beard on her skin, wherever they might be offered.

"I feel that I already know you, Betty, and I am glad that we spoke two days ago. It feels more real, us meeting and going together."

His command of English dismayed her. Antonio must have perfected it over the times that he had attended to female holidaymakers, just like her, and who wanted to break out of the conventional ways that passed for a holiday fling. In her case, it would be sun, sea, and paid-for sex; a scenario that really would break all the rules that she had lived by until now.

But the man before her, for whatever reasons he too might have and that brought him to do this type of work, was everything that she had hoped for and now wanted.

She longed for his kisses; she wanted to kiss him back; she wanted to share in wild and lingering kisses with him and to forget everything except the feeling of this ragingly desirable man kissing her.

"Let us go...go back to your place, Betty. I want that and want that now. You are already in my blood."

He touched her thigh as he spoke, offered a slow caress with the fabric of her dress, and looked admiringly at her, letting his eyes drift and take in what she wore, at what lay underneath her clothes that could not be concealed, and, instead, shaped her. He had seen enough of her broad hips and somewhat square-shouldered, busty, figure to know that this would be an encounter with a woman quite different from the others; one not self-obsessed with her figure and looks, although he found nothing to distract him in wanting her; quite the opposite.

Betty soon followed him to Antonio's car, her thoughts racing and with the palpable gnaw of longing for this man overcoming any lingering doubts.

"I'll go and get changed for you."

She said it by kissing him and tracing her fingertips over his face and wanting to do that and not have the man, she now yearned to know, pursue and undress her. It was both a tease and a moment for her to again accept what she was resorting to and from which there was now to be no turning back.

She slipped out of his embrace and went into the echoing en-suite bathroom, undressing hurriedly and hanging her dress and underwear on the hook on the back of the thin, scrubbed pine, door.

He pushed on it and she gasped to see Antonio's deeply tanned body and the elaborate swirls and colors of a chest tattoo, others on his strong arms, the inking to them finishing on each forearm. There was also a complete tattoo around his right thigh.

What a strong man he was, how alien to all those she had known in her life; what a departure from those who had gone before, and there weren't many.

"You are eager...so strong, already," she whispered in dismay, cupping the swell of his penis in his briefs.

"And seeing you like this makes me feel that way, Betty."

She loved the feel of the luxurious satin garment on her skin, how the lace trim to the straps and bodice drew his eyes to the healthy glow of her skin, to the curve of her breasts and the depth of her cleavage, how her nipples pressed enticingly against the fabric, the flowing skirt of her negligée falling almost to the floor and revealing her feet and painted toenails. She had prepared for this moment, for the slow revelation of what she would bring and that he would be urged to claim during a slow process of deepening acquaintance.

She had been seduced already; how she would consummate her feelings was yet to be discovered. The way she now felt, and the way that Antonio behaved, she knew that it would not be long before they surrendered to the moment.

His slow touch, a featherlight caress of his fingertips to both breasts, traced their shape and she was dismayed to see the hungering look of his eyes upon them, upon all of her, as he tugged loose the silk fastening and revealed the rounded curve of her tummy, her shaved mound and its smooth curve, the tumble of her breasts.

"What beauty," was all that he said as his fingers traced a slow path over her skin and he felt her moist heat. "You are ready..."

"I can wait!" she gasped as his fingers teased and caressed her skin but did not enter her body. "I want to find out about you, just as you want to do that with me."

She had reached for that pole of hard, arcing, flesh, and she trembled out of longing and fear. A man, so well-endowed, had not been seen before, let alone claimed her body. Every nerve in her body seemed to tingle, every muscle in her pussy and belly drawn tight and then eased out of expectation of him being in her. She wanted to be ready for that and not get hurt or be denied the undoubted pleasure that she would discover at his hands, and from that prick that she now reached for.

She was a mature woman craving attention, and she had chosen to buy it from the man before her; a local man who was naked and strong, a hungry look in his eyes letting her know what he wanted from her and that she made no secret of seeking from him. Her first touches to his naked body have let him know what is now on her mind,

"Come here," he commands, drawing her to him as she steps back into the bedroom and kisses her, his hands sweeping under the robe and he embraces her to him so that Betty can feel his erection press against her belly. The deep gnaw of longing possesses her, those little spasms felt in her pussy and his caresses to her back and hips arouse as he keeps her to him.

Her lips tingle from the kisses that he pursues, the slick of his tongue over them and she is crushed to his hard, wonderfully toned body. She groans out of longing and pleasure aroused by his caresses; what her mind is telling her she will surrender to and wants to pursue with the man who claims her. He sweeps off her gown and she is naked in his arms, just as he is in hers; only he is in control.

Antonio kisses her hungrily, certainly, his tongue dipping and fluttering into her mouth. Will his teeth brush against hers? Yes, it seems that they will and she wants him now; trails her hands down his back grabs his buttocks, and kneads the hollows as she feels him tense as Antonio presses against her, their bodies locked in a tight and heated caress of skin on skin.

"Why do you want it like this? You are beautiful and will find your way again," he kisses, his words flattering her but she does not need to hear them. She's become ever more certain of what she wants from him now; everything else can wait.

"No questions or answers from now on! I want to break with the past and want to do that in this way and with you!" She shivers as one hand reaches for and finds him; her fingers barely able to encircle his penis. "I...I can't believe what you have and what I want you to bring to me!"

It was not to be an act of self-abasement with a stranger, but the start of a new journey with a lover who was both accomplished and attentive to her needs. He doesn't need to be rough; he needs to be caring in what he does, plundering her body for their shared pleasure, his fierce kisses met with her responses, and she now does so as his mouth sinks onto her lips and she groans, becomes weak in the knees because of the sensations and thoughts that now rage through her body and mind, and that his caresses arouse.

She reached out and trailed fingertip caresses over his bearded face. She feels the hard cheekbones under his tanned skin. She rubs his ears then pulls on his head to make it easier to kiss his cheeks, his neck, behind his ears, and flickers her tongue into them, then behind them to find a sensitive spot.

Antonio stands quite still. He's not been this way with women he's called on and loves the novelty of their roles being reversed. She slicks her tongue over his throat, loves to taste him before her mouth settles on his parted lips and she feels his slow breaths. They kiss, the claims of the other's mouth deepening, become hungrier as the press of the skin against the other, her hard nipples, and the hard press of his penis to her belly, a physical declaration of longing that words alone cannot convey.

They know what is to follow and they are ready for it. Will Antonio wait or pursue his hunger for her?

It seems he will pursue her. Moments of foreplay will not be pursued and, kissing wildly, they fall onto her bed, Alfonso kneeling between her parted legs and she feels the press of his penis tip at her opening, then trail over her parted lips, each slow movement of it a plaguing a caress.

His hand trail caresses over her thighs, over her mound, his fingers lingering where she wants him to be. They caress her tummy, the heavy sag of her breasts and he clamps on them, draws their tips to point and his mouth sinks onto them, repeating claims to each; the offer of kisses and licks, sucks and tugs as his fingers again trail down.

"Yes, do that for me!"

Her call is in response to his fingers gliding in. She's so wet and ready and yet she wants these moments of attention; moments that she has missed for so long. His fingering of her becomes too much to bear. She's so ready and she's ready for him! Ready for the handsome and strong stranger; ready to embrace that tattooed body and draw into her wet heat that pole of flesh that teases and presses, slicks over her opening and the tip caressing, teasing and probing slowly, but it goes no further. He performs a tantalizing dance with that bulbous tip.

He leans in and kisses her, pushing just enough for her pussy's lips to part. "I...I think you are ready for me, Betty...you beautiful woman."

His voice is deep, slow, soothing, and full of wonder.

She claws at him with her fingertips. She does not scratch, but she draws him to her.

"Yes, I'm ready! Now get to work!"

He smiles and she tastes herself on his fingers as he presses them to her lips. "It is no longer work but pleasure for me to be with you."

She trails slow and clamping caresses over his penis from the tip to his sac and keeps it at her opening, feels the strength in his hands as Antonio pushes up her thighs and he dips; tugs her hands away, and pushes in. It is a long and plumbing stroke that stretches her and Betty groans. Even now, after what has been shared, she is not ready for it.

She gasps in dismay. She hears his slow breaths of rousing pleasure as she enfolds him in her wet warmth and begins to take him, to work what he has as he thrusts and eases away. It becomes a slow and bewitching rhythm that ends with him fully engulfed by her beguiling warmth and she tugs on him.

"Do...do what you want with me," he kisses through quickening breaths, Betty's ways with him confounding all that he expected from their times together. "I can last for you."

She doesn't doubt it. "And I want you deep in me!"

It takes only three or four deep thrusts for her to feel an orgasm build, to gnaw at her restraint. She lets herself go. All the anticipation of what will happen is now made real; her pussy feels on fire, her lips parted by his swollen flesh and caressed in a wild brush of his swollen prick against the walls of her soft haven.

He took her voraciously; silenced her squeals and gasps for breath with his kisses; he kept his mouth to her lips as Betty struggled to move away from his hungering mouth as he bucked and dipped his hips, found her so deep that she writhed to prolong the wild pleasure that they had discovered, clinging to him fiercely as she pulled him down and kept him deep within her.

"Go on...go on!" she squealed, at last, wrapping her arms and legs around his body and felt the plunging pleasure of his penis wrack her pussy and plumb her in ways that she had never experienced, for their ferocity and the sublime pleasure that his movements within her aroused. "Go on... go on fill me with it!"

Antonio answered her calls.

Her muscles ease and grip on him and she feels Antonio so deep. He does not wait but lets her succumb to the onrush of her orgasm, his tamping rhythm increasing so that he brings her there. He's taking her with sublime skill, his hips crashing against her buttocks and she is made to lift her legs so that she can fully accept him and all that Antonio brings.

"I do it right for you...yes?"

She barely hears him above the sound of her cries and the creaking of the bed. "Yes...yes...you are!"

She's on a wild ride of new experiences and she's being fucked as never before, his bumping body, the trust of his prick, the swirl of his tongue as they kiss and share breaths, are wild and unstoppable. She wants to fuck through all these sensations that he's aroused and get wasted by it.

She doesn't want to forget a single moment of what is being shared and done to her, how he's fucking her and, at the same time, he's tugging on her nipples with his mouth, lifting her weighty breasts as he does so and then letting go.

"Come for me!" he gasps and she senses that he cannot endure waiting for her to get there with him.