At Trinity Beach


The night rolled on. As unlikely as it seemed - you would have to see Gunner to know what I mean - there were signs of movement under the table from Amy and Gunner.

Sensing what Gunner might be up to, Bill finally had to ask, "Well, Gunner? Is it true?"

"How would I know?" he countered.

"You've been trying hard enough all night. C'mon, Amy, give him a break."

All eyes stared at her expectantly.

"Oh all right," Amy blushed. "If it will shut you all up. Gunner can feel up the outside of my leg. But that's all."

I watched as his hand disappeared under the table. He leant towards her, then paused briefly. She moved ever so slightly in her chair.

He leant further. They made eye contact. And kept it. No one spoke.

A minute passed. Maybe less. Whatever it was, it's a long time to hold your breath.

Finally, he straightened back up in his chair.

"Well? Satisified?" the dark guy asked.

"Very!" Gunner smirked.

"There, I've done my bit," Amy challenged. "So how do we know that you aren't making false claims about -you know- the equipment?"

"Trust us," they said. "It's true!" "I'll think about it," Amy teased. "But if I do decide to check him out, it'll mean nothing unless I compare it with the rest of you."

The cockiness of youth strangely deserted them. "You wouldn't," Bluey eventually managed to say. "Would you?"


A long time passed before I had a chance to catch up with Amy away from the guys. Actually, she caught up with me, throwing her arms around me from behind as I was wandering back from a trip to the gents.

"Thanks for tonight!" she bubbled.

"You seem to be happy, working those guy's minds over."

"I am. Very!"

"So did you and Gunner really sort out the evidence?"

She grinned wickedly. "Mmmn! I didn't think I could go through with it, but you know what I'm like when there's a challenge on."

"And did he behave?"

"Of course not. The first thing he did was put his hand between my knees, and when I didn't react, he started to creep higher."

"Is that when you stared him down?" I asked, even though I already knew what the answer would be.

"Like I said, you know how competitive I can be."

"And what about the other half of the deal. Are you going to check him out?"



"What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?"

"And is he packing?"

"Let's just say even if I wasn't getting married, he wouldn't be getting anywhere near me with that thing!" "That's what you are saying now, but what if the intrigue gets the better of you?"

"It won't. I'm a good girl."

"I'm not suggesting otherwise. But you are a smart girl too, who might see a final opportunity slipping by."

"I don't even find him attractive."

"Which means there would be no long term threat, unless you want more of the same."

"Jeez, Charlie, it almost sounds like you want me to get laid!"

"I'm just acknowledging that these thoughts might be bouncing around in your head- in case you aren't thinking too clearly later on. And in case his expectations are already different to yours."

"Charlie, I've been in these situations before. And they never end differently to how I want them to. I'm sure Gunner knows no means no."

I had to agree with her assessment of him.

"You are right, of course," I told Amy. "I'm ready to pack it in. Do you want to finish up now too."

"I'm thinking I'll stay on a bit longer. Are you OK with that?"

"Sure. I'll see you in the morning."

"Given up on me using that key to your room then, have you?" Amy taunted, before kissing me on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, buddy."


Sweet dreams? Not a bloody chance. I lay awake battling feelings of jealousy I was not entitled to have. An hour passed; then half of the next. One more. By now the bed sheets were a crumpled mess, and I arose to strip them down and remake the bed.

The sound of stifled laughter wafted in from the street. Opening the door, I wandered outside into a night lit only by the dull yellow glow of the courtesy lights along the front of the hotel. Then I heard footsteps approaching. Not wanting to be caught out wandering around, I ducked around the side of the car parked in front of the room the other side of hers. From there, I studied the two forms as they approached. Amy and Gunner.

They stopped outside her door, and she began to rifle through her purse.

The laughter from the street resumed, and I concluded the others were waiting for Gunner to see Amy home. Chivalry is alive and well in the deep north of Australia, I thought to myself.

As Amy fumbled and giggled at her inability to find her keys, Gunner grabbed her around the waist from behind.

"Heh you!" Amy scolded, without turning. "I knew it was a bad idea letting you walk me to the door."

"Are you sure it's a bad idea?" he probed, showing no signs of releasing her.

"Look! I've had a great night. An enlightening one. But I fear for how I'm going to feel in the morning if I let you in."

"Who said anything about wanting to go inside. Out here is just fine. Especially if we stay like this." As he spoke he pushed closer up against her, still from behind. I could see the bulge in his pants flatten against her butt. His left hand - that's the side of him I could see clearly- disappeared inside the top of her dress, searching for those magnificent breasts.

"Gunner! Someone might see us. Or hear uu....." Amy cried, before her words were cut short by his right hand closing over her mouth.

"Sssh then, angel!" he whispered into her ear. I could just make out what he was saying and decided to get closer. The large potted plant in front of the car looked the ideal place, and I began to crawl towards it. Half way there, I remembered the other guys in the street. And froze. Hell! They might see me moving. I somehow slunk lower, my heart pounding, and inched my way forward, praying no one could hear the scuffing sound as I slid along the concrete floor.

Somehow I made it. After a few deep breaths, I dared to crawl up to my knees to peer through the bush.

They could have been frozen in time. Amy remained facing the door, her eyes closed, with Gunner behind her. His hands hadn't shifted either- the left inside the top of her dress, the right at her mouth except ....except now I could see his fat finger tracing her lips, extending, probing, and being accepted into her sweet pursed mouth.

The door rattled. On any other occasion it would have been an innocuous sound, but I was able to catch a glimpse of the cause - Gunner slowly grinding his hard-on against Amy- before they were startled into complete stillness.

'Here's Amy's chance to conclude it,' I thought.

I doubt that thought had time to cross her mind before he took over, shuffling them to the solid wall beside the door.

A sigh escaped Amy's lips.

Again he offered his hand to her mouth and again she accepted it.

I could just make out Gunner sliding his left hand downward from her breasts, straight past her navel; lower, lower, stopping when the contact caused Amy to gasp aloud.

"You are killing me, angel!" Gunner whispered into her ear.

Amy turned sideways. Her hand appeared behind his head, drawing it to her in a tantalisingly slow motion; inviting his lips to join hers in a feather-touch kiss that lingered and lingered while his hand continue to probe. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, she clamped her mouth over his as a violent shudder coursed through her body.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" she groaned as the orgasm took over her senses. Gunner wrapped her in his arms, as if soothing a grieving soul, allowing her to bury her head against his neck.

A long silence followed.

Then she giggled timidly. "Well, I don't need you anymore. You can go now!"

For a moment, Gunner appeared taken back. "What about my turn?" he asked, a little too loudly.

The sound carried deep into the night. From the road, one of the others- Bluey I think- called out. "What's going on, Gunner? Are you coming or not?"

"Go, Gunner!" Amy urged. "Go with your mates before it's too late."

Gunner dismissed her suggestion. "It's already too late," he responded, reaching out for her hand and guiding it to the bulge in his jeans.

"You again!" Amy muttered, more in exasperation than anything else- or so it seemed. Except she now began to carefully unzip his fly. I watched in surprise as her hand reached inside his jeans to release his straining cock.

"Mmmmn! Aren't you all wet?" she commented, and began to jack him with long two-handed strokes. "This thing is leaking so much down here, it's too slippery to hold."

"All the better to fuck you with!" Gunner replied authoritatively.

"I can't."

"Of course you can. All you have to do is open that door."

"No! I really can't. I shouldn't."

"Your pussy doesn't agree with you. Nor your tits! God! They're rock hard. Show me them. Please I want to see them; to feel them."

"No. Let me jerk you off."

"I want to fuck you. All night. And you want it too."

"Gunner! Stop it. Please. Just come. Now. Just let me jerk you off."

"Let's go inside."

"No!" Amy bleated, the pace of her hands on his cock getting faster and faster. "Come for me. Please. Stop fighting it."

"And you. You know you want to do more. Have your final fling. You are so close..!"

"I mustn't. I'll suck you off," she urged, dropping to her knees.

"It's not about me," he barked, grabbing her long dark hair roughly, and pulling her back to her feet. "So stop fucking about."

Again a voice called from the street. "Gunner! We are coming down."

"What's it to be, Amy? Are we heading inside, or do you want them to find us here?"

The footsteps began to approach. I slunk further into the darkness, begging Amy to answer him before they spotted me.

"Amy! What's it to be?"


"Times nearly up, Amy."

"Somewhere else. Not where Charlie's can hear us."

"Somewhere else? What for? More of this crap?"


"What then?"

Before she could answer, a voice called from near the back of the parked car that was keeping me out of view - temporarily. "We are going to walk home."

"Wait up," Gunner ordered. "I'm ready."

"What have you done with Amy? Is she coming too?"

"It's her last night of freedom. Of course she is."


I followed them for two blocks to a sprawling high-set Queenslander, the kind that often got converted in the seventies into accommodation for groups of single people. Now they are popular amongst retirees and yuppies devoted to renovating them to their former majesty.

This place was straight from the seventies.

The group remained downstairs, in a crude entertainment area near a small pool. It was a breeze to slither into the dense garden behind the timber security fence designed to keep misbehaving kids out of the pool, and misbehaving adults out of view.

If anything sexual was brewing in the air, one would have been hard pressed to see the signs. Maybe it's the mateship of Aussie blokes. The conversations and antics went ahead as if Amy wasn't there, or was just one of the boys.

"Anyone for a dip?" Bill asked. Before anyone could answer, he was out of his clothes, and leaping ingloriously into the cool water. Bluey followed suit. The dark guy shook his head, as if to disturb an alcoholic haze, and stayed put.

"What about you, Gunner? Amy?" Bluey called.

"I'm going to check this place out,'' Amy replied, with a sweep of her arm in the direction of the steep staircase.

Gunner followed her to the bottom of the stairs. "You go first," he offered. She did, her dress hitched up to make the ascent easier. Halfway up, she stopped, turned and gave him a 'why aren't you following?' look.

He responded by turning his head to the side, making out he was trying to peek under her dress, and gestured for her to continue. I watched Amy smile a smile I hadn't seen before, and glance towards the guys in the pool, before lifting her dress some more, and taking another couple of steps. Again he didn't move, and again she smiled, lifting the dress higher, over her butt this time, before an exaggerated swagger carried her to the top of the stairs. She turned to face him, her dark bush momentarily visible before she allowed the dress to drop back into position.

'Game over,' I thought.

Defiantly, Amy looked down at him. Gunner raised his hands, palms up, signaling 'what next?'

Amy pointed her finger directly at him, and with it hooked, beckoned him to join her.

She slid away into the darkness even as he was starting to move.

Game on, after all.


Somehow I managed to get around to the other side of the house without being seen. I climbed the second set of steps and crept along the verandah, peering into the rooms; listening for clues as to where they might be.

A faint light flickered in the room to my right and I made my way there. Amy was standing beside a pedestal lamp, just within reach of its dull light. I heard, rather than saw, Gunner open the heavy French door into the room. I waited until it closed, and sneaked up to it, peering through a small gap in the drapes that fortunately gave me a full view of the room. Gunner walked across my line of sight, and towards her. She put her fingers to her lips, signalling him to be silent, and stood there, unmoving, hands by her side. Eyes closed. A sacrifice.

Gunner closed in on her. She didn't falter. He moved to her side, then to her back, circling her, like a hunter does the prey. Still Amy didn't flinch. Ever so lightly, he put his hands on her shoulders and flicked the tiny straps of her dress. It tried to fall, but didn't. He tugged at the hem and the dress slipped down, revealing her heaving breasts. She smiled a nervous smile.

He eased away from her. As if mesmerised, her head turned and followed the movement. Her eyes remained closed. Then he was back, to squat in front of her, his hands starting at her waist and running down her legs, taking the gathered dress with them. Gently, he lifted her feet; first one, then the other, and came up with the dress in his hand. It looked so small. He folded it lengthwise, and again, and once more until it was little more than a strip which he held by each end. He drew his hands together, then snapped them apart, the cloth making a loud crack that startled Amy. She shuddered, clenched her fists by her side, but defied any urge to open her eyes. He smirked at her show of fortitude. Next he draped the strip of cloth over her shoulder while he walked around behind her, before picking it up again and placing it over her eyes like a blindfold. He paused for the moment she needed to nod her agreement, then tied it off at the back.

I couldn't take my eyes off her; naked except for the engagement ring and the choker. And the dress- that dress- now a bizarre blindfold that symbolised the extent to which she had forfeited herself to him. Gunner unbuttoned his shirt and placed it over the lamp, dulling the light even further. Next the jeans came off, revealing his fat cock jutting straight out. He bent over and placed his jeans on her feet. The symbolism, if any, was lost on me.

Then he walked away from her and sat on the sofa.

Carefully, Amy moved towards the centre of the room. She tripped against a large rug, and stopped, as if to explore her recollection of the layout of the room, before turning to her left, where her hands bumped into the back of the sofa. She slid them along its length, and into the short stubble on Gunner's head. She ran her fingers over his face, tracing his features, before leaning over him, and cupping his cheeks with her hands in a display of gentle affection that seemed out of place with the words that followed.

"I'm going to fuck you now."

They say you can't even imagine what certain situations are like. I know this much: if I had any heart problems, I would have died then and there. And I was only the spectator. To Gunner's credit, he seemed calm enough, slouched in the sofa, gently stroking a massive erection that could have stood vertically without any assistance. The head of it looked like a small purple fist and I had this weird thought: 'Why shouldn't Amy get a piece of that, while she can?'

She made her way to the end of the couch and around it, feeling along the front until she reached Gunner's legs. They must have been too far apart for what she had in mind, because she pulled them together, before running her hands along them, upwards, until they found his hard cock. Deliberately, she measured him off - starting at the base and climbing- one hand, then the other, the bottom hand on top again, and still the head protruded. She sighed, and climbed on to the sofa, her knees planted either side of him. Gunner reached out and grabbed her waist. Amy disapproved and grabbed his wrists, placing them against the top of the sofa and holding them there. Expertly she slid her pussy forward along the length of his cock, and beyond; smearing its underside with her juices. Then his cock reappeared, trapped against her beautiful arse and she slid back, bending it way over, threatening to crush his balls; soaking its topside this time. Gunner groaned when his cock finally sprung free; slapping first his stomach, then hers. Impossibly, it appeared to have grown even bigger. Amy repeated the treatment; sliding forward and back, forward and back, until his cock glistered with their combined juices. She paused briefly, before raising her hips a little, allowing his cock to stand taller, before she slid forward once more - an excruciatingly slow journey- the twin touches of her protruding lips lightly caressing the length of his shaft. They seemed to clasp his cock-head and hold it in place for what she had promised the last time she spoke.

Then she descended; carefully, uncertainty evident as she squirmed and stopped, adjusted, resumed, gasped, and leaned way back until there was no more of him to accept.

"Told you I would," she uttered.


I have a beautiful image of illicit bliss - of that moment between Amy and Gunner- forever in my head. I should have left my vantage point then, for I can rationalise what happened up to that point. Not my own actions; rather the fact that Amy - soon to be married and irrefutably everyone's good girl - could consummate a fling with a particularly ugly, though well endowed man whose real name she probably didn't and wouldn't ever know.

What happened next was downright dirty: hard, noisy, sweaty, physical fucking as though Amy was exorcising a remaining lifetime's quota of urges and desires. She rode him furiously; selfishly; contemptuously until he could stand no more and cried out so. She lifted off him and his reddened slimy cock took on a life of its own; twitching and jerking, spewing a rope of hot semen against her pussy. Ingloriously she squatted, her gaping hole consuming very inch of him in a single, urgent greedy move as if to ensure his second spurt and those that followed were delivered deeper inside her than any man had done before.

I don't think she came. I don't think that mattered to her, for an orgasm was not something unique to this night. After all, orgasms as a dutiful and happy wife were ahead. With Gunner spent, and Amy slipping the dress back on even while his waning cock was still in her, I had no need or desire to risk getting caught by staying around any longer..


The first hint that the sun was about to rise was accompanied by the soft hiss of the shower in Amy's room. I don't know if it was the changing light, or the sound of the running water that woke me. I can't even be certain I had been asleep. The way I felt suggested I hadn't been. I rolled over, pulled a pillow over my head, and hoped like hell I could doze for a while.

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