Ricardo and Juliana

* * * * *

Watching them ride down the beach I said, "What do you think?"

"Ricardo and Juliana, or the finches?"

"Not that the finches weren't great, but Ricardo and Juliana."

"They're adults, making their own choices, causing no harm, it's their business."

I looked down, he was hardening. My breasts were swelling.

"Y'know, we're supposed to be repulsed, not aroused."

* * * * *

What to wear, what to wear? Fascinated by Ricardo and strongly attracted to him, I wanted to make an impression, but nothing to obvious. After all, he'd seen me naked, he already knew my charms. I selected a colorful sundress; the right compromise of dressy and modest, not matronly, not desperate.

Heels, no heels? Heels would be nice, but I'd be navigating unfamiliar and possibly wet terrain. I could see myself tripping, not the impression I wanted to make. I put on two inch flats, secure to walk on and they'd still give my ass a boost.

Because the drought would make my shower unfortunately short, replaying Ricardo and Juliana in my mind I fingered my clit, jumped in, brought myself off, taking the edge off.

* * * * *

With an attendant's help we found a place to park in the sea of cars. Assured by the bartender it was the local specialty I ordered a fruit punch, choose from the unfamiliar and, it turned out, delicious array of food spread over several tables, then moved to the side, listening to the Mariachi band and watching the sun descend over the ocean.

"Kara, Randall, I'm so glad you came."

It was Ricardo in a turtle neck, black jacket, and black pants, and Juliana in a classic short black dress. They looked great.

I said, "Thank you for inviting us. The food is delicious and this," gesturing to my drink, for I couldn't recall what the bartender had called it, "is wonderful."

"I'm glad you liked it. It's a fruit based punch, a family recipe."

Randall said, "We were just watching the sun. The sunsets here must be amazing."

Gesturing to the horizon Juliana said, "Yes, and it should be especially spectacular tonight. There is a storm over the ocean, the clouds are thicker, more varied, more substantial than usual."

I said, "I hope the storm will not be a problem for the party."

Ricardo said, "It's not supposed to arrive until tomorrow evening, but it has unexpectedly picked up strength, speed. We are monitoring it closely. And Juliana is correct, the sunset should be breathtaking."

Reaching for Randall's hand Juliana said, "It is best viewed from one of our balconies. Would you like to see?"

"Very much."

Ricardo turned to me and said, "And you my dear?"

"Yes."

Ricardo said, "Why don't you two go ahead. There are a few things I need to check," then, holding out his arm said, "Kara, would you join me?"

I slipped my arm into his and we moved through the crowd, he talking to the people in charge of the food and music, then Carlos approached looking concerned. From what I could make out they discussed the weather.

Several minutes later we entered the house, stopping in an exquisite living room flooded with natural light and furnished with objects de art and wood furniture that were themselves works of art. The walls were adorned with abstract paintings which blended into each other, providing the room a unity that belied its substantial size.

Oddly, what struck me most strongly were the cabinets, made from a lustrous wood I did not recognize. Ricardo saw me staring at them.

"You like the cabinets?"

"Very much, I've never seen anything quite like them."

"You have a keen eye. They're made from bing-bang-go wood, a tree confined to equatorial Africa, you rarely see it in this part of the world. Juliana introduced me to it."

"You can't help but notice, they're dazzling."

We walked through the rest of the impressive house, passed through what appeared to be a guest bedroom onto what was more porch than balcony. I leaned over the wooden railing, gazed at the Pacific Ocean.

"Where are the kids?"

"I suppose on another balcony, I think they want their privacy."

I'm sure they did. I wanted mine.

* * * * *

We talked, nothing earth-shattering, my job, his business, our children -- Juliana would soon complete a fellowship at the research laboratory where Gema Parisi, John Davenport's recent bride, was a researcher -- my impression of his country, his of mine. Still, his questions and comments revealed both a powerful intelligence and that he listened to me. I liked that. Then it was time for the sunset. It was sensational, filled the sky, and we were quiet, for there was nothing we could add, and I thought this was a man who he knew how to talk and how not to talk and when a cold breeze came out of nowhere he, without words, draped his jacket over my shoulders and I said. "Thank you," and slipped my hand into his.

When the sun disappeared I said, "Thank you, that was wonderful."

"I'm glad we saw it together."

His phone buzzed. He looked at it, his brow screwing up for a passing moment.

"Is everything okay? Do we need to get back to the party?"

Laying the phone on a small table he said. "No, an update on the storm. It is being handled, we have time," then put his hand on my hip, and our mouths came together, our lips moved on each other, our tongues played.

I moved my body into his, wondered whether he'd think me to forward.

What kind of question was that? This man fucked his daughter.

Was Randall doing so right now? The mutual attraction between him and Juliana had been palpable; Ricardo had seemed delighted by it

Convention was not an issue here; neither was jealously or exclusivity.

I wanted this man; we didn't have a lot of time

I reached for his penis, felt it though his pants, and said, "I've heard we American girls can be easy."

Smiling, he said, "I've heard the same."

I said, "Do we have time?"

"We'll make time."

I said, "Good," lay his jacket aside, unzipped his pants, reached inside, wrapped my hands around a sizable dick, squeezed, said, "Ricardo, loosen your belt."

He did, then undid the button of his pants. I let go, reluctantly, and dropping to my knees untied his leather shoes, pulled his pants off his legs, returned to his dick, pumped and licked it, dragged my tongue over, up, and around the bulbous head of his impressive instrument, ran my hot soft warm tongue up and down its length, and, opening my jaw wide, slipped my mouth over him. After taking a moment to adjust -- he was bigger than any of my current lovers -- I slid my lips on the ridge where shaft and head meet, then worked my way down the throbbing rock-hard shaft, slathering it with my tongue, stopping when he reached the back of my mouth, and wrapped my fingers around the base. There were several inches to go, he was big. I thought about Randall's erection, these boys were in the same ball park, at least Juliana wouldn't be shocked.

I could deep-throat him, but a girl should leave something for the second date.

Still, I wouldn't mind if this man knew I had more to offer.

Re-aligning my head, I pushed, another inch slid inside my mouth, and the uncircumcised head sat at the entrance of my throat. I swallowed, Ricardo's body jerking at the unearthly suction, then reached under my dress, pulled my soaked panties down my thighs, rubbed my hard clit, moaned into the cock filling my face.

Men, in my experience, love that visual, love that sound.

I love it myself.

Still frigging my clit I licked his shaft, then, lips pressed tightly to him, slid halfway up, moved back down. On my next trip I reached the top and, holding the crown in my mouth, slathered it with my tongue before again moving down his shaft.

"My dear, incredible."

I bobbed my head, sliding my hot wet mouth up and down his impressive instrument, my fingers relentless on my clit. The blistering flame born in my sex, burned, spread, and I stiffened, grabbed the base of his dick to steady myself, moaned, "Mmmppppppfffffffffffffffff," and, my body trembling, an orgasm, short, sweet, and intense, rampaged through my body.

Wanting more I let him slip from my mouth with an audible pop, his dick, slick with saliva, slapped back against his stomach, and I took Ricardo's hand and stood. My panties slid down my legs.

He said, "Kara, you're amazing," kissed me.

I said, "I get better," and stepped out of my panties.

While he had several inches on me, taking advantage of the deck's slope, designed to ensure drainage, and glad I'd chosen the shoes I did, I positioned him with his back to the railing, stood before him, kissed his mouth, moved his dick under my dress, took a deep breath -- I'd never realized how sexy ocean air smells -- said, "I hope your guests won't mind if I borrow you a little longer," pressed his cock to my sex. My labial lips wrapping around his cock, I moved up and down, sliding them on the underside of his shaft. He reached for my hips, held me to him.

"Feels nice," I purred.

His voice husky, "Yes."

I moved onto my toes and lifted a leg. Ricardo held it, bringing our bodies closer together, and I dragged the bulbous head of his dick on my slit, soaking it in pussy juice, placed it on the opening of my sex and, eyes hooded with lust, said, "Ready?"

"Yes."

Pushing down, I purred as his large cock-head journeyed down my tunnel, stretching my sweet supple pussy.

When half of him was inside I stopped, said, "Feels so good," and we kissed, our tongues playing like long lost friends. It had been awhile since I'd had one this big and I flexed my pussy, letting my body adjust, then pushed down, moving the rest inside, Ricardo moaning, "Kara, oh sweet Kara," as tight wet pussy enveloped his large throbbing cock.

We started, me sliding up and down him, he thrusting into me, at first small strokes but, as we came to understand the way the other moved and breathed, the length and strength of our thrusts increased until all but the head of his cock slipped out of me before all of him slipped back inside. I squeezed his dick -- my time in the gym paid off -- and he jerked against me, mashing my clit with his pubic bone.

"Oh Ricardo."

We fucked in long deep strokes; he pulled me tight, flattened my breasts on his chest.

"Kara, Kara, uunnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

A younger man, driven by his own desire, would already be pounding me, but prescient in his ability to discern what I liked, Ricardo focused on my most sensitive spots. I threw my head back, my shoulder-blade length hair fanning behind me, and twisted and rotated my hips, moving him around inside me.

We fucked and fucked. I rippled the muscles of my sex, cradled and rolled his balls, felt them tighten, retreat into his body, said, "Ricardo, come, come inside me."

Ricardo dug his fingers into my butt and leg, his jaw locked, he started speaking Spanish, a groan erupted deep in his solar plexus, he got warmer and bigger inside me. Twisting my hips I pushed down, he thrust up, and then he detonated, filling me with thick warm jizz. His jism coating the walls of my sex, he came again, firing more delicious man-seed inside me.

And with that the pleasure forged in my clit mushroomed, raced through my body, and quivering and shaking I came. Inside my head I saw colors -- merging flowing glowing -- that rivaled the dazzling sunset I'd just witnessed. My knees buckled and I slumped into Ricardo, squeezed my sex, forced a final few drops of cum from him. Ocean air filled my nostrils and ocean breeze caressed my skin and the waves of pleasure washing through me left me breathless and quivering. We kissed; his mouth and tongue were wonderful.

* * * * *

In a small guest bathroom I fixed my hair and make-up, considered disposing of my panties, but silk and beautiful they were among my favorites. After carefully wrapping them in a paper towel I tucked them in my small purse, then emerged to find Ricardo -- he cleaned up well -- as dashing as ever. I moved into his arms.

Then his phone wailed.

I didn't know they got that loud, and why did his work when mine didn't?

He looked at it, the flash of concern on his face unmistakable.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry my dear, the storm. There is nothing for you to worry about, you and Randall will be fine, but I'm afraid our evening may be interrupted. Let me walk you outside."

I folded my arm into his, but in contrast to our leisurely stroll through the house, his steps were now quick and sharp.

Carlos and several others were waiting for him. They talked rapidly and, unable to follow the conversation, I looked around. The band kept playing but his guests, noticing their host's sudden pre-occupation, stopped dancing.

That was when Juliana arrived, without my son.

"Where's Randall?"

"We borrowed him Ms. Toro. The storm has strengthened, turned our way. There are relief agencies in the United States we need to contact. Their executives speak Spanish, but their staffs speak only English. We asked Randall to help us navigate our way through the bureaucracies."

As she finished talking the knot of people around Ricardo dispersed, presumably off on their assigned missions, and he turned to us, acknowledged his daughter, and said to me, "Kara, I'm sorry, I was looking forward to spending time with you, introducing you to my friends, but there are things I must attend to."

Juliana who, like me, had noted the crowd's unease, said, "Papa, our guests are worried. We need to calm them."

Scanning the assemblage he said, "Juliana you are right. I should have met Carlos inside. We should have definitive information in thirty minutes, until then would you attend to our guests."

Taking my hand in hers Juliana walked to the stage, the crowd's eyes following us, signaled the band to stop playing, then said in Spanish and, for my benefit, English, "Friends, we apologize for the disturbance. We are soon to receive an update on the storm. Papa will have the information before anyone else and will share it with you, you will be the first to know what is happening. There is no immediate danger so, until then, I suggest we dance."

Turning to the band leader she said, "El Son De La Negrab, es mi favorito," then said to me, "Let's dance. Little distracts people like beautiful women dancing."

And dance we did. Now I'm a good dancer, but Juliana was transcendent, graceful, spirited, and oozing sex. The crowd quickly stopped worrying about the storm, I think most forgot there was a storm, and danced. I, as intoxicated by Juliana as everyone else, cut loose, letting the memory of making love to her father flow through my body, matching her sexy moves with my own. At the end of the fourth song, wiping perspiration from her forehead, Juliana said, "I think our guests are enjoying themselves, I could use water and a rest. It may be a long night."

With bottles of water I followed Juliana to a quiet edge of the patio, secluded from the crowd, and we sat. She took my hand in hers and said, "There is something I want you to know, something I told Randall."

"What is it?"

"Earlier today, on the dunes, I saw you two watching Papa and I."

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to spy."

"There is no need to apologize, you did nothing wrong, it is a risk you take when you make love outdoors, under the sky. I'm afraid I'm something of an exhibitionist, I like the nude beach, like it when I'm seen or might be seen, love sex that is dangerous. When I saw you two, it made it more intense for me."

"And your father, what did he think?"

"I did not tell him. He is more old-fashioned than I, but he accommodates his daughter."

There were, of course, other questions I wanted to ask: how long have you two been lovers, how did it come to be, and, more personally, what did it mean for me and her profoundly attractive father, but they were none of my business. Well maybe a little, after all I'd just made love to her father and she, I was sure, with my son.

Looking into my eyes, tilting her head to the side, she said, "You wish to know how it happened?"

Apparently I didn't have quite the poker face I'd imagined. With an edge of guilt in my voice I said, "Yes."

"Growing up I knew my father was brilliant and handsome and gracious and charming. Even if I hadn't noticed my girlfriends endlessly reminded me. But there was something else about him, an energy, almost tangible. I didn't have a name for it.

"I went away for college and my second year took a class with a distinguished professor of biology. When it was over we began our affair. We were together two years. He was decades older than I and like Papa handsome, brilliant, a gentlemen of the old school. My girlfriends teased me, said I had a daddy-thing. They didn't mean it, they were, as you Americans say, ribbing me with empty words, but they were right. For I compared this man to my father and for all his charm and accomplishments, and there were many, I found him wanting. He was a patient and skilled lover, I've had few his equal, but still, I came to understand my father's energy -- the thing I had no name for -- was sexual, intense and intoxicating. On the beach I saw you felt it also."

I said, "I did."

"I returned home from school determined to make my father my lover. By the end of the summer he was. We are not exclusive. I have others; your son was wonderful. He has others, with his appetites it would be silly not to expect that, he is not a man to be contained. Still, he likes you very much."

When she started I'd wondered if her message would be for me to back off, but her tone was genuine and in the present circumstance, I a temporary visitor to her country sitting on the bull's-eye of a natural disaster, she would not waste her time trying to chase me off. No, she was letting me know she had no objection to sharing her father, but it would be sharing.

She was a remarkable young woman: discerning, direct, and wise.

She was also lovely, her beauty shimmering under the night sky.

"I understand, I like your father very much."

She ran her hands through her thick dark hair, smiled, and said, "Your son has many of the same qualities as Papa, but also reminds me of you, beautiful, empathetic, sensitive. You are lucky to live with such a young man. May I kiss you Ms. Toro?"

The question came out of left field, but I knew the answer.

"Yes."

And she leaned forward and her lips were on mine and our lips moved against each other and when her tongue glided along my lips I touched it with mine and then both tongues were in my mouth playing with each other and my heart was beating a million miles a minute and there was a fire between my legs and I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she tasted good and I wrapped my fingers tight on her upper arm and the music stopped.

Juliana said, "It must be Papa."

* * * * *

We spotted Ricardo a beat before he signaled us to join them. When we did he kissed my cheek, said, "Kara, you must excuse me, we'll be right back," and asked Juliana to accompany him, explaining to her what was happening on the way to the stage. She was a quick study, for holding the band leader's microphone she said (as translated by a person standing with us), "We have the latest weather report, the storm is still hours away and while there may be additional adjustments, at the moment it is headed in this direction. There is plenty of time, but in order to secure the house we need to end the party. We are sorry."

She handed her father the microphone just as Randall joined us. He put his arm around my shoulder, I leaned into him

"My staff is breaking down the food and drink service. Everyone will be provided a care package: flashlights, radios, batteries, first aid materials, and enough food and water for several days. Are there any questions?"

After a few were shouted and answered Ricardo and Juliana returned where, shaking my son's hand, Ricardo said, "Thank you for your help, you saved us countless hours, I hear you have a way of charming bureaucrats."