Pure Lust and True Love

****

That afternoon, Cohen sat by the pool, still drawn of emotion, but knowing he had only himself to blame. He had spent a good chunk of change to go to Florida, not to mention a year's accrued vacation time. He spent months dreaming of the single flings he'd have at Soleil Magenta, a resort known more for easy hookups than lasting relationships. Even if he did find himself falling for a girl, there was no reason to choose a married one.

He wanted to believe it was selfish of Krissi to come to a singles' resort. She chose her lot in life, and it wasn't fair to impose on others. But he couldn't believe that. He had looked in her eyes. It wasn't pure lust that brought her to invite thirteen men to inseminate her. That was an excuse.

"Hey," called a cheery voice from behind him. "Cohen, right?"

Cohen turned to find Tina, Garret's date from the night before, holding a drink with an umbrella in it. Soleil Magenta was full of pretty women, but most were so dolled up they seemed plastic. No girl he had seen at the resort was as pretty as Krissi, but if anyone came close, it was Tina. She stood in a cobalt-blue bikini and big, black-rimmed sunglasses. Her crimson red hair was pulled into a tight bun with a shiny clip holding it in place.

"Hey," he replied. Would you like to sit?"

"I'm from Missouri," she quipped. "I didn't come all this way to sit, did you?"

Cohen had come looking to romp with promiscuous beauties and wound up pining for a married woman. Perhaps Tina was just what he needed. He stood, took her hand, and went with her.

Tina's room was close—on the third floor overlooking the pool area. No sooner had she closed the door than she pressed her lips against his and offered her tongue. It wasn't the same as Krissi's. She was more bold than tender, but bold was in order. Their game was pure lust, not true love. Still locked in a kiss, he unhooked the top of her bikini and tossed it aside.

She unbuttoned his summery shirt and pressed her ample globes against his chest as they kissed again. Standing on her tip-toes, she licked his ear and whispered, "Wait'll you see what I have in store for you."

Cohen spun her around and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her tummy and pressing his chest to her back. Tina moaned as his right hand plunged under the bottom of her bikini. With the scratch of her bush in his palm, he worked his middle finger into the slick warmth of her slit. The smacking and smucking sounds grew louder as aromatic juices oozed over his finger. He kissed the nape of her neck and grasped the sides of her torso, easing her toward the bed.

At the foot of the bed, she pushed his chest. "You sit," she purred, bending and stepping out of her bottoms. She dropped to her knees and unpinned her full, red mane, then grasped his hardy shaft, studying it. "Did Krissi enjoy this?" she asked.

"I'd like to think so," he answered.

"Garret says she doesn't swallow cum. Did she do that for you?"

"Come to think of it, no."

With her lips brushing his knob, she whispered, "I'm going to, as long as you promise to brew a second batch."

"I'll see what I can do." He let out a long moan as her soft, full hair washed over his lap. It shimmered as she licked his sac, twiddling her tongue between his nuts and stroking his length. Her green eyes peered into his as she kissed the tip of his blunt bulb. "I think she did," she sassed.

"Does it matter?"

"Only if Garret finds out." She opened wide and plunged over his beating girth, lolling beneath his shaft-head between bobs. No doubt, Tina knew what she was doing. It wasn't long before the pangs of surrender tingled through his manhood. She wrapped her lips tight as his cock thumped a dry-fire. With the second jolt came a series of spurts. He groaned as her twiddling tongue called forth the rest of his seedy payload.

Tina never paused for a moment after swallowing his plentiful payload, and Cohen never softened. The veins mapping his staff never even lost their sculpture. He bounced off the bed and stood her up, then moved behind her.

"You're saltier than Garret," she purred, leaning her elbows onto the bed and swaying her hips. Cohen pushed down on his stiff pole and rubbed it into the scruff of her crimson bush, then into the wet heat of her entry. Tina stood on her toes and cooed as he sank half his length into her clench. Rearing back, he tightened his grip on her waist and charged forth into her carnal vessel to a squeal of delight.

He sensed the slick heat of her slit against his sac as he rocked his pelvis to gain full depth, pressing his thighs against the back of hers. Her moans grew louder as he began a steady rhythm. Straightening her arms, she arched her back and raised her chin. Her long hair danced over her back as she shook her head.

"I want you to eat me," she moaned, climbing onto the bed. She rolled onto her back and spread wide.

Cohen scampered up and dug his nose into her curly red crown. As he lashed his tongue over her stiff gush button, a knock came to the door.

"Remember what you were doing," she ordered. "This is the surprise I promised." She bounded to the door naked and cracked it open. "Yay!" she cheered, opening the door to reveal Garret and a middle-age brunette in a bikini and sarong. "Get in here! You'll never guess who I rounded up!"

Tina led them to the foot of the bed, where Cohen stood naked. The woman smiled as she appraised him. "You'll do," she boasted.

"This is Kerry," offered Garret.

"Terry," she offered, correcting him.

"Whatever," he grumbled. Turning to Cohen, he asked, "How was your time with my wife?"

A mix of anger and confusion surged through Cohen. As much as Krissi had broken the rules, it bothered him to hear such a snide comment. "Does she know you're here?" he asked in return.

"I don't think that's any of your business," snapped Garret. "I figure she's probably sore after hosting a baker's dozen in her box last night."

"Thirteen?" asked Terry. "I need to talk to her."

"So do I," proposed Cohen, stepping into his pants.

"Don't go," bargained Terry. "You guys can hash it out later." Turning to Garret, she asked, "Thirteen...really?"

"Divorce her," blurted Cohen. "You obviously don't love her."

"And you do? You've been here fucking Tina."

"Because I can't have Krissi, dammit! At least she stuck to your once-a-year rule."

"How would you know?"

"Because I bothered talking to her."

"When? She had cocks in her mouth all night."

Cohen had no choice but to leave. He knew he would wind up hitting Garret and ruining what was left of everyone's week. Pushing his arms into his shirt, he kicked into his flip flops.

"Don't bother talking to her," scoffed Garret. "She thinks it was you who outed her."

"Why would she think that?"

"Because you fell for her."

Cohen ground his teeth as he stomped to the door.

"Come back if you change your mind," called Terry. "And bring a few friends. Maybe a dozen."

****

Cohen got a late lunch at the outdoor restaurant across from the pool. As he finished his drink, he looked across the patio deck to see Krissi, sitting a poolside table by herself. He stuck a hefty tip beneath his glass and bolted over to her.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked through her tears.

"Krissi," he begged. "Please...we should talk."

"Do you know what I do back home?" she asked. "I'm a news anchor. Do you have any idea what I stand to lose?"

"Your husband lied to you," he implored. "Please, let me explain."

"I trusted you," she sobbed.

"And you broke her trust," added Garret's voice from behind. "You wanted to take her from me and have her for yourself. I guess you thought it was worth outing her as a whore."

"You son of a bitch," snarled Cohen. "You went and banged Tina again today, along with Kerry, or...or Terry."

"What's he talking about?" asked Krissi. "Garret, did you—"

"Don't be stupid," snapped Garret. "He's trying to muddy the water."

A visceral scream shrieked from across the pool. Several more sounded as a party tent beside the building collapsed over the portable bar beneath it. The crowd scattered at first, but then drew in, gathering around the collapsed canvass.

Cohen ran over to the sounds of hysterical crying. He gasped in horror as he saw Tina. She lay with her back arched and arms outstretched atop the bloodstained white canvass—her green eyes open wide in terror and her lower lip trembling. She had landed on her back atop the center pole of the tent and been run through. It protruded several feet from just below her navel like a bloody spear. A tatter of tissue hung from the tip, torn from a fold of intestine protruding from her belly. Tina lifted her head slightly and let out a whimper, somehow finding the strength to grunt, "R-Ross." With that said, she went still and looked off into eternity.

Cohen pressed his palms to his temples as employees and security personnel scrambled about. Amid the crying and yelling, he heard Krissi scream. A hundred feet away, Garret lay on the ground, scrambling to get up. Ross had his arm around Krissi's neck and a knife in his hand. She writhed and squirmed, but at half his mass, it did her no good. He dragged her into the parking lot stumbling and screaming. Cohen charged toward them as Ross shoved her into a security jeep with no top. He lunged with a loud bellow, but Ross shoved him off and slashed his forearm with a wild swing of the knife.

The injury only served to embolden Cohen. Again he attacked, latching onto Ross' neck as he started the jeep. He held on as the vehicle dragged him, landing several good blows to Ross' jaw and temple. Unable to steer, Ross crashed the vehicle through a chain link fence, tossing Cohen several yards into a parked car.

Krissi tried to bail out, but Ross backhanded her and threw the jeep into reverse. As Ross took off across the lot, another security jeep pulled up. "He's there!" bellowed Cohen, pointing to the fleeing vehicle.

"I've called the police," replied the young security guard. "You need to get back to the pool area for—"

Cohen didn't let him finish. He grabbed the young guard by the shirt and growled, "Get in the passenger seat or get out."

As the security guard took the first option, Cohen drove over the downed fence and across the lawn, squealing onto the pavement only a hundred feet or so behind Ross. They swerved through traffic, ignoring intersections for a two-mile stretch until Ross turned down a road by the shore.

Cohen roared up to the driver side rear quarter of Ross' jeep and turned into it, slamming against the fender.

"What the fuck are you doing?" asked the guard with a yelp.

"A Pit Maneuver."

"Are you a cop?"

"No."

"Do you know the Pit Maneuver?"

"No. You got any better ideas?" He turned again. Ross' jeep swerved, but he over-corrected and drove off the right shoulder, sending the jeep into a tumble. Ross was ejected from the vehicle. It rolled over him as it flattened a wooden stockade fence and came to rest upside down in a small private yard.

Screeching to a halt, Cohen ran to the crash, followed by the guard. Ross lay face down—his legs twisted in horrid deformity. Krissi hung upside down by the seatbelt, crying. "You took the time to buckle up?" asked Cohen as he knelt on one knee.

"Force of habit," she bawled.

The guard let out a whimper. His eyes widened as he pointed behind Cohen, then ran. Turning, Cohen found himself face to face with a huge Rottweiler. An even larger one stood drooling behind it.

He didn't choose to do what he did next. It just happened. He howled like a warrior charging into battle. "Leave her alone!" he screamed, swinging wildly. "I love her! I'll tear you to pieces if you go near her!"

"Hey, Romeo," squawked the gravelly voice of an old woman. "You're scarin' my dogs. They aint gonna hurt no one. I called 911, so if you need to run, better get goin'."

Cohen looked to see the two dogs cowering beneath the front porch of the small house. He knelt and crawled beside Krissi. "Unclip the belt," he urged. "I've got you."

"Your arm!" she blurted. "It's bleeding!"

"I'm alright," he insisted, wrapping his arms around her.

"You gotta fix my fence," complained the old woman, standing over a groaning Ross.

"Hey!" called the guard as he charged around the fence. "Thank God you're okay. I went to find something to beat those damn dogs with, but, I-I—"

"Just help me get her down," complained Cohen.

Krissi bounded to her feet as they set her down. She hobbled on a broken heel up to the security guard. "Give me your shirt," she demanded, still in tears. "I need something clean to bandage his arm."

"It's the only one I have," complained the young man.

"You got more than one face?" she asked with a snarl. "Because I'm gonna rip that one off if you don't give me that damn shirt!"

When he begrudgingly handed it over, Krissi tied it tight around Cohen's injured arm. She sat and hugged up to his side as sirens grew louder in the distance.

****

That night at the local hospital, Cohen sat in the waiting room of the Emergency Department, itching around the bandage on his forearm. Sheriff Harlan Noble stepped up and introduced himself. "She's asking to see you," he offered. "The doc said you can go in, but I need to talk to you for a minute."

"I told you all I know," replied Cohen.

"I figure you did. I just want you to know she's been through a lot since she got here."

"Did they find something wrong?"

"It's what I found. She's lucky you chased Ross down. You did yourself a big favor, too."

"How so?"

"Her husband was setting you up. He planned to sell her off to a drug lord in Honduras who saw her on television and decided he wanted her for himself. Ross had a seaplane waiting at the marina to bolt her across the gulf."

"What about Tina?"

"Tina Wheeler was in on it. She was a news anchor in Missouri. She had sent a letter of interest to Krissi's station in Minnesota. Garret is the program manager at the station. He'd have a new gal and a lot of money...maybe a new news anchor if he was feeling bold. But Tina decided to give you a try. Garret found out from Ross that Krissi had fallen for you. I guess he could overlook it, since she was being sold into slavery. But when he found Tina with you, he had Ross toss her off the balcony. Ross decided to use it as his distraction to grab Krissi. If you hadn't seen it, Krissi would be meeting her new master about now and you'd be answering for the fact that your DNA is in Ms. Wheeler's corpse."

"Excuse me, Mr. Xavier," chimed a friendly nurse. "She's asking to see you."

****

A year later, Krissi stood in the kitchen of a beach-front room at Luna Cyan, the sister resort to Soleil Magenta. Luna Cyan, however, catered to married couples rather than singles. A mild breeze stirred the salt air as she poured four glasses of wine. She and Cohen had been married for three months when they took the resort's parent company up on their offer for a free week's stay. Laughter rang from the living area, where Cohen sat with Carter and Lynn Hewitt, a couple they met through the club's website.

Thanks to weeks of correspondence before they met in person, they knew they had a lot in common. Lynn was a news anchor in Nashville. Like Krissi and Cohen, Lynn and Carter met at Soleil Magenta under remarkably similar circumstances, minus the crime drama.

Krissi placed the tray of glasses on the round ottoman and sat in the center of semi-circular sofa, with Lynn to her right and Cohen on the left. Carter sat on the far right with his left arm around Lynn. After a second glass of wine, the conversation lost its cordial façade.

"Your story is truly amazing," offered Lynn. "I can see the dilemma you both had to face. Please know that Carter and I wanted to meet you...regardless of what happens. Please don't feel pressured."

"Don't worry," sang Krissi. "There's a big difference between what I was doing a year ago and partner sharing."

"It took us a long time to come to this decision," added Cohen. "We took the time to fall in love and let it become who we are...true lovers. But in the end, we decided that our true love was found in the throes of pure lust. It's something we both want...as a supplement to our love."

"Lust is a part of us all," agreed Krissi, leaning against Cohen. "Our love shone through the fury...like forging steel to make it stronger."

"You're not afraid of it breaking you up?" asked Carter. "Like you and your first husband?"

"We weren't sharing," tendered Krissi. "We weren't in love. We went to Soleil Magenta to fill a void...separate and apart. We didn't want to know what the other did."

"This is the exact opposite," insisted Cohen. "We want to let that lust back in...to forge it, like Krissi said, but for each other's sake as well as our own. Krissi and I will never do anything separate...never apart."

"I'll take equal joy in pleasing you and watching Lynn with Cohen," said Krissi. "We're looking forward to tonight, but Cohen and I will never kiss anyone except each other."

Lynn leaned against Carter and kissed his cheek. She was as long and sleek as Krissi, but with jet black hair and deep brown eyes that sparkled as she tendered a tantalizing grin. "Carter and I feel exactly the same," she agreed, "but with one caveat, if you and Cohen agree."

"I'll never kiss another man," chimed Krissi.

"Nor would I," purred Lynn. "I never want Carter to doubt the sincerity of my commitment. I will amalgamate with Cohen for sheer pleasure, but Carter will never have a rival for my affection."

"So what's this caveat?" asked Krissi in a sing-song tone.

Lynn touched her lanky forefinger to Krissi's glossed lips. "Carter doesn't find other women to be rivals for my affection," she purred. "Does Cohen?"

Krissi stared into her brown eyes, wondering how to react. She had thought they covered all the bases. Moreover, the offer was enticing. Still locked in Lynn's dark gaze, Cohen's breath tickled her ear as he leaned in close. "For the record," he whispered. "I wouldn't consider her a rival. I'd put it in the pure lust category."

"Are-are you sure?" she asked, her gaze locked on Lynn's lips.

"Positive."

Krissi took in a breath and opened her mouth. Lynn's soft, firm lips met hers with a gentle pressure unlike she'd ever experienced. She loved Cohen's kiss for its manly, assuring qualities, but Lynn's offered enchantment and playful tease unhindered by commitment. She realized in that instant, Lynn wouldn't shy away from the salty tartness of semen once it was on their breaths. As their tongues danced, she imagined sharing a mouthful of pearly treasure, swapping it back and forth. Breaking their lip lock, she turned to give Cohen an affirming kiss of thanks.

Lynn smiled and stood, offering her hand. Krissi rose and faced her. With a quick nod, they each dropped their sundresses and stepped out of them. Krissi rubbed her palms down the side of Lynn's torso. As they kissed again, she giggled to the tickly scratch of fingernails over her buttocks. Lynn offered a knowing glance as they spun to switch sides.

With a sweet giggle, Lynn knelt before Cohen and tugged at his shorts. Krissi leaned over Carter, tugging his Capri's down to his knees. She gave Cohen a playful smile as Carter kicked them off. She watched for a moment as Lynn dunked over Cohen's lap and began to bob. Turning to Carter, she grasped his plentiful prowess in her palm and licked up the underside to a hardy moan of approval.

Pressing his chiseled rod against his pelvis, she turned her attention to his warm sac, lifting his left nut onto her tongue and sucking it into her mouth. She stroked his length as she did the same to his right. Flicking her way back up the underside of his staff, she opened wide and wrapped the dry skin of his blunt bulb with her lips.