Playground of Delights

The captivating smile of perfection greeted him as he approached the yacht, a long stemmed glass of champagne in one hand, the other hand inviting him to take the access platform onto the launch.

"Hello again," she smiled, raising an eyebrow of approval, kissing him softly on the lips, a trace of perfume just enough to heighten her femininity and just enough catch his attention.

"I wasn't sure you'd turn up," she said, offering him a glass of champagne, pointing a finger at the bowl of strawberries and an assortment of hors d'oeuvres on a white table cloth.

"I thought my erotic fantasies might have scared you off," she smiled, flashing her dark eyes and slipping a strawberry between her lips, biting half and offering him the rest.

"Memories," she toasted, raising her glass in salute, skipping playfully around the deck with the elegance of a dancer, a black silk dress moulding like a second skin to impossible curves, the front cut low exposing a mouth-watering cleavage, shapely breasts bouncing invitingly beneath the silk material, nipples that couldn't be ignored blossoming through the soft fabric, the back of the dress open from the shoulders to her waist revealing an expanse of smooth olive skin, the long splits up both sides uncovering endless legs growing from a pair of five-inch black stilettos.

Her lips were soft, her tongue cool from the champagne, the kiss brief but passionate.

"Walk with me. Let me show you around the boat," she said, filling their glasses with champagne, the acquaintance of her hand, the intimacy of touch fuelling the fire of passion, chemicals charging adrenaline, pulses racing, eyes searching eyes, compliments following compliments, kisses stolen at any given opportunity, her voice captivating, her elegance and beauty seductive, the promise of bondage and domination torturing his mind.

Sitting on deck loungers, sipping champagne, breathing in the scent of the Mediterranean Sea, feasting on the intoxicating smell of arousal, breathing in the unmistakable aroma of sex, flirting and laughing, sharing information, some light-hearted and some serious, discussing their background and hopes for the future.

She talked briefly about her estranged relationship with Jack and how they first met when she lived in Tuscany and a little information about their business activities although from what she was saying it appeared that he kept her at arms-length with most of his business interests and certainly his finances. However, it was clear to see that Jack had made them filthy rich, and all Martina had to do was to spend his money.

When he mentioned children it became clear that he had reminded Martina of something very painful from her past. She told him that when she was in her late teens she had fallen in love with a man from her village in Tuscany. When she found out she was pregnant they were both overjoyed and planned to get married.

A weighty loneliness stared out from empty eyes, a wounded voice and a broken heart describing complications during childbirth and the pain and devastation of losing a child.

"Let's walk to the upper level," she whispered, forcing a smile and lifting from the lounger, the invitation breaking the crippling silence hanging between them, the sparkle and calm returning to her eyes, the painful memories swept away in the soft caress of the wind.

A full moon reflected a white beam of light stretching as far as the eye could see over the black still waters of the Mediterranean Sea, her elegance and charm captured in the hide and seek of shadows, the silhouette of personified perfection dancing and twirling in perpetual motion around the deck.

The embrace passionate, lips meeting in romantic unity, the kiss warm wet and meaningful, biting his lower lip in playful capture between her teeth, sucking it inside her warm mouth, tongues duelling in an exchange of heated of breath, chemicals stimulating senses, pulses throbbing, gestures responding to impulse urges, impatient hands sweeping over curves, squeezing soft feminine flesh, groping hard masculine flesh, two people swimming in a sea of frustrated emotions, two lovers desperate for carnal connection.

"Oh yes," she breathed, feeling the swollen limb pressing urgently against her thigh, sweeping her hands across his chest, opening the smooth white buttons on his shirt, a teasing smile pulling at her lips, reaching into the ice bucket, opening his mouth and placing an ice cube on his tongue, lips crashing together, tongues embarking on a mission of playful pursuit, searching his mouth, sweeping and dancing over teeth, probing the cold object with her warm tongue, holding the playful capture long enough until the ice cube melted away in a cool stream of liquid passion.

"Unhook my dress," she smiled, flashing her eyes with flirtatious intent, lifting a hand to his face and brushing water from his chin, his well-practiced fingers loosening the tiny hook and eye, slipping the straps from her shoulders and down her arms, the black silk falling to her waist, shapely breasts bouncing invitingly in the breeze, nipples the size of two thimbles blossoming from dark areolas, cupping both breasts in his hands, squeezing gently, kneading softly, feeling their weight, their warmth and softness filling his hands.

Lips met. Lips pulsed. Lips parted, the kiss passionate and meaningful, arousal fuelling emotions, bodies pushing together in a simulation of coital foreplay, eager hands moving with sensitive meaning, caressing one breast and squeezing the other, twisting and pulling both nipples in playful capture between his fingers and thumbs, reaching around her waist, gliding over soft feminine curves, squeezing her shapely bottom, feeling the silk material slipping through his fingers, before dropping to the floor around her ankles.

A gasp and a deep intake of breath, the perfection of beauty caught in his vision, eyes wide open, hypnotised by her unabashed nakedness, the Italian Goddess standing precariously on a pair of towering heels wearing nothing but a smile and a pair of black lace knickers, holding his arm for support, lifting one foot and then the other, kicking her shoes playfully across the deck, stepping out of the dress with the grace of a ballerina.

The embrace warm and tender, two people held in capture on the upper deck of the yacht, her raven hair blowing carelessly in the breeze, a full moon lighting up the sky high above the Mediterranean Sea, obscure shadows of intimate suggestion stretching across the deck, two lovers engaging in a courtship of seductive acquaintance, a mutual engagement of understanding, an urgent enquiry of coital persuasion.

The closeness, the promise of intimacy, the familiarity of touch, the acquaintance of soft lips peppering light kisses of affection across his neck before lowering to her knees, two hands gliding playfully over his chest, following the trail of her moist lips, sucking his hard nipples on the way down, wiggling her tongue, holding each one in erogenous capture between her teeth, smearing his stomach in a wet stream of saliva, slipping her hands inside the waistband of his pants and pulling them to the floor, nine-and-a-half-inches of liberated flesh springing free from the dark confinement of his briefs, the gruesome muscle bobbing and swaying in front of her eyes.

"You're so big," she whispered, an eager hand working the formidable limb up and down, pulling and tugging with vigorous intent, the momentum gathering speed, the bulbous head playing hide and seek beneath a shroud of loose foreskin, easing him into her hungry mouth, feasting on the meaty shaft before easing him out, sucking and blowing, pulling him back, taking him deep, swallowing the length from the head to the root, a helpless mouth stretching in choking gags around the girth, cheeks bulging in submissive protest against the brutal invasion, blowing him out in breathless gasps for air, dragging her teeth slowly along the swollen limb, leaving wet trails of saliva along the length and a smearing of lipstick glistening on the smooth head.

A frustrated sigh and an uncomfortable shuffle, the hardwood timber surface torturing her knees, a familiar dampness manifesting inside her knickers and a nagging pulse between her legs, a gesture of movement taking his outstretched hand and lifting to her feet, insistent words dancing impatiently behind her teeth.

"I need this inside me," she breathed.

A firm hand around her waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, lifting her into his arms, navigating his way carefully across the deck, carrying her through pair of sliding doors and into the main cabin, a low light casting ominous shadows across the room, a playful whisper, a seductive voice of persuasion and a motioning hand guiding him in the direction of a beam of light spilling through an open door.

The bedroom was spacious, two large candles on the bedside tables lighting up a mirrored ceiling above a king-sized bed, lavender scented rose petals and an oasis of pillows spread over black satin sheets, two wine glasses and a bottle of champagne cooling in an ice bucket on a small table by the bed hinting at the promise of erotic theatre, a carnal arena for endless hours of illicit entertainment.

The bed dipped under her weight, the satin sheets cool against her back, closing her eyes and opening her legs, a viscous liquid bleeding through her knickers betraying evidence of her urgent need for penetration.

A vulva aching with desire, a familiar pulse between her legs, a wanting woman desperate for physical contact, shuffling on the bed and lifting her bottom just enough to slide the black underwear down her legs, the lace panties abandoned on the floor.

She kept her eyes closed. She spread her legs and opened her body. She wanted him to take her. She wanted him to dominate her. She wanted him to hurt and abuse her. She wanted him to fuck her like a wild animal.

The promise of expectation burning between her thighs, a racing heartbeat pounding inside her chest, her breasts rising and falling, deep intakes of breath forcing frustrated sighs, waiting impatiently, keeping her eyes closed, listening for sounds, for movements, for anything, waiting and listening, embracing the silence, joining in the conspiratorial fantasy, a promising extravaganza of mystery and excitement.

An impulsive movement, the bed creaking under his weight, a shuffle, an orientation of heads meeting feet, an urgent adjustment for oral stimulation, the warmth of his thighs brushing against her arms, the thickening muscle throbbing on her chest, the unexpected acquaintance of a cold object sweeping in mystifying circles over heated flesh, a breathless gasp of uncertainty spilling from her mouth, her eyes opening wide in startled protest.

The capture of intimate suggestion, a vision of playful familiarity, his bottom perched just above her face, two hairy testicles dangling over her nose, an ice cube in his hand dancing playfully over curves in a seductive ballet of intimate foreplay, an eager tongue following the trail of cool water, down one leg and up the other, teasing her inner thighs, a brief enquiry of her pubic bush, dipping between the slippery flaps and folds, sweeping in lazy circles over the swollen clitoris, his cool lips peppering a path of chilling kisses over the urethra, a wet tongue teasing the delicate petals of her inner heat, feasting on the fleshy lips of her labia, the cool liquid pooling between her thighs.

"Cosi ti piace giocare con i cubetti di ghiaccio," she smiled, amusement flashing in her dark eyes. "Well I like to play with ice cubes too," she mused, giving his balls a playful squeeze, leaning over and opening a drawer in the bedside table, removing two silk ties and a bottle of strawberry oil.

"I hope you know how to tie a woman to a bed and give her a good fucking?" she said, handing him the silk ties, taking four ice cubes from the champagne bucket and inserting them inside her vagina, a playful smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"I told you I like a bit of bondage," she giggled, offering her hands in submissive capture. "This is your playground of delights," the temptress invited, her bondage complete, her legs open, an invitation of playful pursuit hovering behind a suggestive smile, a raised eyebrow and questioning eye demanding action.

"You have to make the ice cubes dance until they disappear forever."

A head flooding in a sea of erotic possibilities, a diverse enquiry inspiring curiosity, primal urges overcoming hesitancy, an iceberg of an erection stretching the wet lips of her vulva, sliding seamlessly inside the cold confines of her slippery vault, two bodies moving to persuasive urges, the probing connection of unquenchable unity gathering speed, pushing in and pulling out, quick strokes following slow strokes, hard strokes chasing fast strokes, in and out, back and forth, slapping and squelching, ice cubes dancing over his hot fleshy limb, clashing in a duel against the inner walls of her cold interior.

Hard and fast, gathering speed, pushing in and pulling out, the acquaintance of cold and heated genitalia fused together in a coital rhythm of give and take, the compliance of furtive expectation fuelling arousal, the union of surreptitious connection growing in a mutual exchange of animated smiles and triumphant cries, discomfort giving way to pleasure, the ice cubes eventually yielding to the heat of passion, cool streams of water spilling down his cock and over his balls, pooling on the bed sheet beneath them.

"Wow, fucking with ice cubes. Who would have thought? That was certainly different," he uttered, through a throaty gasp, collapsing on the bed and burying his face in her hair, breathing in the moist remnants of passion.

"It was a strange sensation but nevertheless a remarkable and momentous fuck," he smiled, his face a mask of pleasure, sucking in precious air through his nose.

Amusement flashed in her dark eyes and a wicked smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"After you catch your breath you can untie my hands and I'll let you try the strawberries. There just as much fun," she grinned. "I call them fuck-me-fruit."

He wasn't surprised to discover that the furtive acquaintance of strawberries were just as stimulating as the ice cubes, but he was a little surprised when she pulled them from her vagina and offered them to his waiting mouth.

"I'm going to cover your body in oil and then I want you to fuck me until I tell you to stop," she smiled, brushing hair from her face, squatting over his back and taking the bottle of strawberry scented oil from the bedside table.

Shuffling on the bed, shifting her weight and walking on her knees, letting him feel the moist lips of her vulva opening over the cheeks of his bottom before spilling a generous amount of oil from the container, sweeping her slippery hands over his back, massaging his neck and arms, working his shoulders with her fingers and thumbs, pressing gently at first and then applying a little more pressure when she thought it appropriate.

"You'll like this," she whispered, pouring oil over his lower back and buttocks, smoothing it into the valley between the cheeks of his bottom, sliding a fingernail along the perineum before dipping into the crack of his arse, teasing and probing the dark orifice with a slippery finger, twisting and pulling the anal hair, his cock reacting to the persuasion of touch, pressing hard against the bed, pre-cum seeping from the open eye, his arousal at the point that he thought if he didn't turn over quickly he might end up fucking the mattress.

She was on top of him before his back hit the mattress, her feline giggles and laughter accompanying a lavish coating of oil over both their bodies, flashing her eyes and giving a little extra lubrication to the primed instrument before making an adjustment on the bed, the union of two bodies aligned in a position of sixty-nine, slipping and sliding in a creative dance over oily skin, a courtship of flirtatious expectation, a seductive invitation of coital foreplay, fondling and groping, moving to the persuasion of touch, a potent combination of intimate exploration, a methodical mission of carnal discovery.

The warmth, the softness, the weight of her tits flattening against his chest, her slippery bottom sliding over his thighs, her vulva pressing against his thick appendage, cupping her breasts in both hands, pushing her tits together and wrapping them around his oily limb, holding his straining cock in promising capture between her cleavage, sliding up and down in a seductive rhythm of pleasure, massaging the length, embracing the girth, sweeping her tongue over the bulbous head, feasting on his pulse of life, rejoicing in the responsive moans and satisfying groans spilling from his lips.

Pulses racing, heartbeats smothered under breathless gasps, chemicals fuelling a turbulence of impossible urges, the urgency of coital expectation gathering speed, body-to-body, skin-to-skin, flesh-to-flesh, him on top of her, her on top of him, slipping and sliding, touching and fondling, groping and squeezing, lifting and lowering, swaying and bouncing, grunting and panting, wriggling her bottom, lifting up and dipping down, smothering his face in a sea of warm secretions, assaulting his nostrils with the musky smell of maturity, a brief pause and a deep intake of breath, a gesture of persuasive movement, shifting his weight on the bed, adjusting position, an impulsive diversion of sexual orientation.

She followed his motioning gesture, lying face down on the satin sheets with a pillow tucked under her tummy, his slippery hands travelling in a downward path marking a thrilling trail of oily fluids over her smooth sculptured back, taking in the feminine curves of perfection, sweeping over the delightful invitation of a pouting bottom, kissing and biting both bubble cheeks, pulling them gently apart in a calculated intrusion of intimacy, bathing the dark orifice with his tongue, breathing in the musky odours of sex before proceeding down her legs until he reached her feet.

His grip was firm but his fingers were sensuous, teasing the tight gaps between each painted toe, applying increased pressure on the arches, working the soft textures of her instep, gliding back up her long legs, peppering warm kisses and soft bites along the way, tasting the strawberry flavoured oil on his lips before coming to rest on her bottom.

A brief pause to take in her captivating beauty before pulling the cheeks apart, exposing the dark valley of hidden secrets, teasing and probing the anal opening, easing a slippery finger slowly and gently inside her anal passage, involuntary thrusts responding to the unexpected visitor, arching her back from the bed, a welcoming invitation for anal enquiry forcing its way between clenched teeth.

"That feels so good," she whispered, lifting onto her knees on all fours with her arms outstretched on the bed and both hands flat on the mattress, arching her back, her bottom perched submissively on the edge of the bed, opening her legs, opening her body, looking back over her shoulder, the promise of a shameless invitation hanging on her lips.

"Put that big thing inside me and fuck me hard."

Shuffling forward on his feet, trying to find purchase on the carpeted floor, both hands holding her waist, opening his legs and manoeuvring into position, the threatening limb swaying about like a thoroughbred colt preparing to mount a mare in heat.

Glancing over her shoulder and brushing hair from her face, a welcoming smile lifting the corners of her mouth, shifting her weight on the bed and opening her legs in a responsive gesture of commitment, clenching her teeth and bracing her body for entry, reaching back with a guiding hand, curling her fingers around nine-and-a-half-inches of throbbing muscle, sucking in air through her nose before easing the fearsome object inside her body.