The Murder of Sharon Weathers Slut Extraordinaire
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The Missing Piece Of The Jigsaw free porn video
The first time I see you, I know that you are the one.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
I just hope that you feel the same way.
I watch you as you queue at the pool bar, standing in the sunlight to top up what is already an enviable tan. I try to guess what you will order and settle on gin and tonic. For both of you. As your drinks are poured, I see that I was right.
As you walk back to your lounger, I take in more details. Tall, well-built, dark hair which is greying around the sides. You’re probably around twice my age, which just adds to the appeal. The distance between us and the fact that you are wearing sunglasses makes it impossible to tell what colour your eyes are, but I already know that they are brown. I saw them when you smiled at me across the buffet table at breakfast this morning.
You place the drinks on the table, straighten your towel and lie down. The woman next to you starts talking and you turn your head towards her, attentively. I am sure that she must be your wife and that you have been married for some time, the body language between you gives that away. She looks to be the same age as you and I am curious to know if you are contented together or bored of each other.
I wonder what she would think if she knew the thoughts that I am having about you right now.
She picks up a book and begins to read. You turn to face forward, your hands stretched under the back of your head like a makeshift pillow. I hope that your eyes are open under the dark glasses, because I am about to make my first attempt at letting you know that I want you.
I pull myself up into a seated position, take off my own eyewear and, reaching behind my neck, I begin to undo the halter-top of my bikini. It falls open in slow motion, exposing my ample breasts for all to see. But for now, it is only your gaze that matters to me. I unhook the lower catch, pull the top away and carelessly discard it to one side.
Your head moves forward, ever-so-slightly, and I know that you are watching me.
Never looking away from you, I pick up the lotion and squirt a generous amount into the palm of my hand. I arch my back and start to rub the lotion into my tits, first one, then the other. I take my time. I work the cream into my flesh, fingertips splayed, in slow, deliberate, circular motions. When I reach the nipples, I use only my index fingers. The coldness of lotion brings them to attention; they perk and swell at my touch.
I start to imagine how good they would feel in your mouth.
Once the application is complete, I lie back down, still facing towards you. I reach for my cocktail and take a long swig, deliberately exaggerating the sucking motion as the straw disappears between my lips. You smile. I can tell that you like the insinuation, that you are now imagining my mouth wrapped around your cock as I look into your eyes.
Casually, you turn your head towards my husband, who is lying face down on the lounger next to me. There is an unspoken question in your look: what about him?
I smile back at you, shrugging my shoulders to give you my answer: he won’t be a problem.
There is no way to tell you this from the other side of the pool, but fantasising about fucking strangers is a big thing for me.
It’s all I can think about some days.
My husband already knows this, so what I am doing would not surprise him. He knows that pretending to be someone I don’t already know is the fastest way into my knickers.
Truth be told, when we brought this element of roleplay into our bedroom, our sex life soared to new levels. We took this idea in so many different directions. We would have date nights where we would go to bars, separately, and flirt like it was the first time we had seen each other, before coming home and fucking for hours. He would sometimes dress up in disguises for me, to add to the mystique.
Once, he confessed that he was imagining himself watching me with the stranger he was pretending to be. Hearing those words made me cum harder than I had ever done before.
We talked about what would happen if I tried to seduce a man that I had met on the internet. We set up anonymous profiles on a number of different sites. We talked about what would happen if I arranged a hot hook-up at hotel with one of these virtual lovers. There were different scenarios, ranging from him playing the part of the stranger, to me going through with the real fantasy and telling him the details after, or even playing him a video of the event upon returning home.
The stranger fantasy became an obsession, for both of us.
Then, without any warning, life got in the way and started throwing curveballs at us. Our jobs were stressful, our family life, increasingly demanding. Sex went from daily, to weekly, to monthly. Sessions that lasted for hours were replaced by quickies that were over in minutes. We spent more time pleasuring ourselves than each other. My consumption of batteries went through the roof.
When I booked this trip, I was hoping that the spark might come back. Just the two of us, no alarms, no responsibilities and copious amounts of alcohol. And, to be fair, it is working, albeit slowly. We fucked in the shower this morning and indulged in some quality oral during our siesta yesterday. There are glimmers of hope, but still a long way to go.
This is where you come into the picture.
I want you to give me the excitement that I have been craving for so long.
I hope that you won’t disappoint me.
You disappear at lunchtime and I don’t see you again until the evening. We are in the cabaret bar, watching a tribute to well-known musicals. Your wife looks tipsy – she is enthusiastically singing along with every number – so she doesn’t notice how many times you look over at me.
I picked out my outfit for tonight with you in mind. It’s a fitted summer dress, which cleverly accentuates my bust and skims over the other sections that I would rather forget. The fabric is dark in colour, with tiny roses printed on it. My hair is tied up in a bun, exposing my neck, and I am wearing strappy, high-heeled sandals.
The only thing that I am not wearing right now is panties.
The room is packed tonight, and the drinks service is slow. So, having emptied my glass, I make my way over to the bar to get a refill. I stand with my hands resting on the counter, my back to the room. I don’t see you walking over to me, but I instantly sense your presence when you appear at my side.
“Nice dress,” you murmur, quite casually, as your thigh presses against mine.
“Thank you,” I reply, without turning to look at you.
I feel your eyes drop lower, onto my cleavage, which is enticingly displayed for you, thanks to my push-up bra.
“Good to see that you’re getting a proper tan.”
I’m all ready to say something cheeky about still having some white bits, when the bartender comes over to ask what I would like. I lean forward, trying to make myself heard above the noise coming from the stage and, just for the tiniest moment, I feel your fingers skim against my ass.
I turn to look at you over my shoulder and see your eyebrows raised. You know now about my lack of underwear, that under my dress there is just naked flesh. It’s actually smooth, naked flesh, thanks to a trip to the beauty salon before I left home, but you don’t know this extra detail.
Correction: you don’t know this extra detail yet.
It’s your turn to be served now and I grab my own drink and return to the table. I’m not paying any attention to the music or to my significant other; instead, I am daydreaming about how good it would feel to have your head between my legs and your tongue buried deep inside of me. I squirm with pleasure at the thought.
When the show is over, everyone gradually makes their way back to their rooms. My husband is tired and crashes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. I am not tired, so I decide to go and sit on the balcony and enjoy the evening breeze coming off the sea.
The balcony is edged by metal railings, which I lean on for a few minutes as I take in the salty air. My feet are starting to hurt in these shoes – I only ever wear heels when playing the part of a seductress – so I sit down on one of the chairs and take them off.
It’s only as I start to unfasten the second lot of straps that I feel a pair of eyes on me.
Your eyes.
I glance up and see you, standing on your balcony, which is almost directly opposite from ours. I smile. This is the first time that I realised which room you are staying in and the view from here is good. I can see you quite clearly, especially as you have the outside light on.
We sit watching each other for a moment, until the idea comes to me.
Very quietly, I move my chair backwards, allowing you to see more of my body. I pull the skirt of my dress up around my waist and place each of my feet on the top section of the balcony wall, soles facing upwards towards you.
You nod your head, encouraging me to continue.
I bite my lip and then, without taking my eyes of yours, I spread my legs open as wide as I can.
Even with the distance between us, I see you gasp as you realise what I am doing. You can see through the metal railings that I am using my hand to pleasure myself. The other, I am running over my tits, squeezing my nipples through the fabric of my dress.
I am so turned on with you watching me that it doesn’t take long before I feel the orgasm building inside me. I have to bite down, hard, on my fingers, to stop me from screaming out as I throw back my head and cum.
I sit still for a moment, letting the last waves of pleasure wash over me. Once they have subsided, I stand up, straighten my dress, blow you a kiss and return to the bedroom, pulling the curtains behind me.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to kiss you right now!
The next morning, I repeat the performance of putting cream on my tits for you. We both know that I am wishing it was something else that I am rubbing into them and I lick my lips to let you know that this is what’s on my mind.
I join in with the aqua aerobics session in the afternoon. You sit on the side of the pool, pretending to watch your wife, who is also taking part in the activity. Even though I have my bikini top on again, it is unable to restrain my sizable tits as they bounce around in time with the music. You cannot take your eyes off them and, when I see you resting your hands across your lap, I wonder if you are picturing them in motion as I ride your cock like there is no tomorrow.
My husband and I are booked to go on a sunset boat trip this evening, so I know I won’t see you in the restaurant, or in the bar later. I contemplate leaving a naughty note on your sun lounger, or under your bedroom door, but I know there is a chance that she will find it and I don’t want to take unnecessary risks.
For now, anyway.
It’s late when we return from the boat and there is no sign of you. Your balcony is in darkness and I assume that you must already be asleep.
I am frustrated by this; I am horny after all the sangria that I drank tonight, and I wanted to put on another show for you, something even more erotic than the last one.
Knowing that I will not be able to sleep until I get my release, I tiptoe back into the bedroom, slip under the covers and wake my husband with my mouth. Once he’s hard and ready to play, I get on all fours, present him my ass and tell him he can take his pick tonight; I am his for the taking.
And take me, he does.
With the lights on.
And the curtains wide open.
We sleep in late the next morning and by the time we get up, there are no sun loungers left around the pool. I am disappointed as today is our last day here; we leave tomorrow. I know that it is my last chance to seduce you. But, with you at the hotel and me at the beach, I realise that this won’t be an easy challenge.
My heart sinks when I don’t see you at dinner. I have figured out your routine by now, so I know what times you are in the restaurant and I have been co-ordinating our plans to maximise the chances of bumping into you. I overhear a waiter telling someone else that it is quiet tonight as a number of guests have gone off to watch a Flamenco show and I guess that is where you must be.
After a few drinks in the bar, we head up to bed. My husband, as has become the pattern, falls asleep. I am wide awake, so I get a bottle of lager out of the minibar and go and sit on the balcony.
I wait.
An hour passes and still I don’t see you.
I want to cry with frustration by this point, knowing that all of my efforts to live out my fantasy will come to nothing. I’m irritable and restless, so I decide that sitting here won’t do me any good. I need to go for a walk.
I quietly slip out of the room and head downstairs. Other than a few people in reception, the hotel is empty. I make my way outside and slowly walk around the gardens and the pool area.
I’m about to go back inside when I hear footsteps.
Then I see you, emerging from the shadows.
Without saying a word, you take my hand and lead me away from any prying eyes that might be watching from their balconies.
There is an area behind the tennis courts, where the sun loungers are stacked at night, and this is where you take me. Letting go of my hand, you lift one of the plastic beds from the pile and put it down in front of us. After having a final glance around to make sure that we are alone, you sit down and pull me towards you.
Not a single word is spoken by either of us.
I stand in front of you, my hands resting on your shoulders, your hands cupping my bum. I’m looking down into your eyes, waiting for a sign of what you want to happen next. In answer, you pull up my skirt and use a hand to secure it against my lower back. With the other hand, you pull down my panties with one sharp tug.
My heart is racing as you pull me towards you and begin to kiss my pubic area and the insides of my thighs. I can feel your hunger as you begin to eat me, skilfully flicking at my clit with your tongue and lapping up my juices. You add fingers and I strengthen my grip on your shoulders, my nails digging into your flesh through the fabric of your shirt. You want more access, so you lift one of my legs up so that my foot rests on your knee, allowing you to probe my pussy, alternating between fingers and tongue.
Once you have got me wet and desperate to be fucked, you stop licking me and start undoing your belt. I hear the sound of your zipper coming down, which is followed by another noise.
Footsteps.
Coming in this direction.
We glance at each other, both starting to panic. I hastily pull my panties back up and straighten my skirt as you jump up and fasten your belt.
The footsteps get louder.
Then we see a bright light, as a torch is shone in our direction.
I’m temporarily blinded, but then I hear a voice talking in Spanish and I realise that it must be one of the security guards doing his nightly patrol of the grounds.
I don’t know what he is saying – my language skills are limited to ordering a drink and asking where the shops are – but you do. I’m suitably impressed as you begin to converse with him in his native tongue, and as this continues, his tone becomes friendlier.
At one point, he looks at me, winks, then says something else to you, which makes you laugh.
He gestures that we should return to the hotel and watches as we head back to reception. We walk in silence, aware that we have just been busted. We can’t even share the lift as we are on separate sides of the building and it might arouse suspicion from the staff.
As we go to head off in our different directions, I quickly whisper thank you and goodnight to you and then walk away. I’m still pretty stunned as I wait for the lift to take me to my floor. Tonight has certainly not gone the way I planned it.
I use my key-card to open the door and carefully close it behind me so that it does not slam.
Without turning on the light, I take off my clothes, leave them in a heap on the floor and get into bed. I lie there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness as I think about what I have just done.
My husband’s voice stirs me from my thoughts.
“So, Little Miss Cheeky,” he says, playfully referring to one of the usernames that we used back in the days when I was sexting strangers online. “Did the plan work?”
“Nearly,” I reply, turning over to face him. “We got interrupted by a security guard before we got to the best part.”
“My poor baby,” he laughs. “I can only imagine how pissed off you must be feeling right now. How about I finish the job off for you?”
“You don’t need to do that,” I tell him as I lean in for a kiss.
“Why not?”
Before I can answer, we hear someone gently knocking on the door.
“Because,” I whisper. “He’s going to take care of that himself. I thought you might like to watch.”
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