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Island Encounter

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Now this is the life, he thought.

John took one last dip in the clear warm water and then shrugged his way out of the ocean, heading towards his chair. The sand was soft, white and not quite hot enough to burn. He gave himself a quick rub with the towel, then stretched out on the chaise lounge and let the sun's warmth wash over his body.

Two weeks. He smiled. Two whole weeks of nothing but sun, sea and food. He reached for his sunglasses and slid them on, never turning his face away from the warmth. Before he'd gotten here, he'd sometimes wondered if he'd ever see the sun at a time other than sunrise or sunset..

Work is done, he reminded himself, and you shouldn't think about it any more.

Good advice, he decided. Instead, he'd think about long walks on the beach, sleeping as late as he liked, and having the odd rum and coke as he enjoyed fourteen days of doing not much of anything in particular. That would be heaven after the last two months at work. It was all he wanted, and all he intended to do.

Although, he considered as he fell into a half-doze, it might be nice if he had someone to do nothing with. Also, if someone could tell him what to do with all this nothing, which got a little overwhelming, that would be appreciated.

His holiday had been the light at the end of two-month-long tunnel, and he'd all but crossed off the calendar days as they passed. His shoulders had felt more and more relaxed the closer the plane got to his destination, and the idea of a string of days away from computers and unmarred by fluorescent lights was the next best thing to the Holy Grail. However…

He had to admit he wasn't good with unscheduled time. He much preferred to have a schedule or routine, or at least something on the agenda for the day. It was one of the reasons he did so well at work: someone told him what to do. I should have lined up some tours, he thought. Made sure I had something to do besides lie here.

After a quick doze, he woke to find the sun had lowered a bit and he was thirsty. After a languorous stretch, he pushed himself off the chaise and headed to the beach bar. With a margarita in hand, he returned to the chaise, settled back down and tried to relax. He sipped at the tart drink and stared out over the water, wondering how he was going to fill his time for the next twelve days.

"Excuse me, is this one taken?"

John looked up at the sound of the voice and for a moment, his mouth went dry. Then he recovered himself. "No, not at all." He reached down to drag the end of his towel closer to his own lounge. "Please."

"Thank you." She lowered herself onto the chaise and John had to swallow a groan. Her bottom was perfect, round and smooth under her blue bikini. "The beach is so crowded, I should have come earlier." She smiled.

"Not a problem." John smiled back and moved a leg to hide the erection that had sprung up.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Sofia." She held out a hand.

He took it, lingering over the long, tapered fingers. "Nice to meet you. I'm John."

His mouth watered at the sight of her. Her skin was a light, even tan, and he suspected there were no tan lines. She had a body that some might call plump or full-figured, but he could only think of it as lush, with soft curves that cried out to be caressed.

Back off, he told himself. You can't proposition a woman you've exchanged less than ten words with.

"Well, nice to meet you, John." She smiled again and her full lips parted to show lovely white teeth. Her tongue flashed out over her lips and he bit back another moan.

She turned back to her bag and John took advantage to lean back, close his eyes and concentrate on the sun and sound of the ocean; anything that would distract him from dwelling on Sofia and possibly embarrassing himself.

"Is that a margarita?"

It took a minute for him to realize she'd spoken to him. "Pardon? Oh, yes. I got it from the bar just down there." He gestured toward the thatch-roofed kiosk a hundred or so feet down the beach.

"Get me one, please."

John raised an eyebrow at her clipped tone, then nodded. "Of course. Any special requests?"

"Just a splash of lime juice, but a lot of salt." She spared him a brief glance before returning to the magazine resting on her smooth, tan stomach.

John quelled a pang of desire and nodded. "Right back."

God, she's perfect. John gave into a small groan as he walked over to the bar. Beautiful and assertive. My dream woman. Then he laughed at himself. How much could he tell from that exchange? She might not be assertive at all; she might just be a spoiled brat.

He ordered her margarita at the bar and another one for himself, and strode back to the chairs, wondering what her reaction would be.

"Here you are." John held her glass out, waiting for her to take it before he sat down.

"Thank you." Sofia reached up and wrapped her fingers around the stem of the glass, brushing John's as she did.

He bit the inside of his cheek and willed his body not to react to the soft skin and light touch. When she had taken the glass, he sat down. He took a sip of his own drink, watching her all the while.

Sofia swirled the liquid for a moment before putting her soft, full lips to the rim and taking a sip. John watched, riveted, as she pursed her lips and swallowed, the long, elegant muscles of her neck moving ever so slightly. His hands itched to stroke that smooth, tan skin, to follow the line of her neck down to her shoulder first with his finger, then with his tongue.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to sit back and look out over the ocean again. You need to get a grip, my friend, he told himself.

Sofia had made him curious, though, and so he turned to her. "How is the drink?"

"It's fine. You did well."

John nodded, unsure how to respond. The assertive—bossy, even—tone seemed odd, but he liked it. Sofia appeared to sense his uncertainty and turned to him with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound abrupt. My job requires that kind of tone, and sometimes I forget to switch it off." She gave a low, sultry laugh that rolled through John's body and sent all his blood south. "Part of the reason I came on vacation was to get out of that habit."

"You don’t necessarily have to switch it off all the time." John chose his words, testing the waters. "I find assertive women to be quite attractive, myself."

"Do you?" Sofia raised one eyebrow into a perfect arch.

"I do." John nodded. "I much prefer a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to say so. It's sexy, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind." Her eyes roamed over John's body. He took deep breaths, trying to appear relaxed, only moving one leg to hide the evidence of his excitement. "Looks like you don't mind, either."

John cleared his throat and met her eyes. "No, I don't. You are the sexiest woman I've seen in a long time."

She let out a deep, rich laugh, but her eyes stayed focused on him. "I'll bet you've said that to at least half a dozen women since you got here." She gestured up and down the beach. "There is no shortage of women, most of who would be…smaller than I, and more attractive."

He shook his head. "I prefer a woman who…looks like a woman. Like you."

"Really?" She shifted in her seat so that her legs draped over the side, her feet resting on the soft white sand.

John's attention drifted down, then jerked back up when she cleared her throat, with a stop on the way for her breasts. The pale blue bikini top only accentuated the tanned skin, and the valley between them begged him to trail a finger, or better yet, his tongue, along the smooth surface. With a slight shake of his head, he met her eyes.

"You don't believe me?" he asked with the trace of a smile.

"Convince me." Her voice was low, but the order was unmistakable.

John nodded, but didn't reply right away. He knew this was a test, and although he didn't know the reward, he wanted to pass. He took his time and chose his answer with care. She wasn't saying, Convince me that I'm sexy. Instead, John knew she was saying, Convince me that you're worthy of me.

After a few moments, he was ready and lifted his green eyes to meet her sparkling brown ones.

"It doesn't matter, on the face of it, whether a woman is thin or not, whether she is tall or short. What matters is how she carries herself. I could tell you—and I'm sure others have—that your long, dark hair feels like silk; that your skin smells like coconuts and feels like satin; that your legs make my mouth water.

"But who has told you that the way you walk shows how much you are in control, and how much you like it? And who has told you they have found that attractive?"

John took a breath; Sofia's eyes were fixed on him. Her breathing was more rapid, but it was the only reaction she made. He felt as though there was no one else on the whole beach; as though they were alone in their own world.

"Who has told you that what they want most is to let you exercise that control over them? That nothing is more attractive, more exciting, than the idea of catering to your wishes?" He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Who has told you that the only thing greater than their desire to touch you, is their desire for you to tell them to do so?"

He sat back and waited for her to speak.

She tilted her head, keeping her eyes fixed on him. He wondered what she thought of him, of his body. He did his best to stay in shape, but couldn't bring himself to be as obsessed as some of his friends. He tried to imagine what she would be seeing: a man about six feet tall with dark-blond hair in need of a cut (he'd been too busy with work to get it done); a reasonably fit body—no six-pack abs but no excess of fat, either; and desire plain in his eyes. He had taken off his sunglasses earlier and now was glad.

She has to see it in my eyes, he thought as the anticipation built. Any pretty woman can get any man hard; but that's plain lust, not desire.

For long minutes, Sofia's eyes studied his body and he did his best not to fidget, or to press for a reaction. With no warning, she stood up, holding her drink. "Get my bag, and your things. Follow me."

Her tone brooked no argument and John was only too happy to comply. Sofia strode away and John hurried to gather their towels and her bag and then followed. She led him down the beach, past the bar, then back a bit into the cover of the trees. The crowd had thinned on the sand, he'd noticed, as everyone began making their way back to their rooms to prepare for dinner. Voices faded and were replaced with the crash of waves, and the gentle flicker of wind through the palm fronds.

"Lay down one of the towels." Sofia's voice was firm; John hastened to obey. "I think I need a bit of a massage." She lowered herself to the towel and stretched her legs out, then stared at him, head cocked to the side, as though she was solving a puzzle. She beckoned him down to her, placing a hand on his chest to stop him when he was on his knees.

"What should I call you?" she mused. She dragged a finger nail down his chest and made him shiver. "We should make this special, shouldn't we? You'd like it if I picked a pet name for you?"

"Yes, I would." John paused, then allowed himself a small smile. "Miss Sofia."

She dropped her head back and gave a low, rich laugh. "You catch on quickly, don't you? I like that. I think for now I'll call you 'pet.'"

"I'd like that, Miss Sofia." John kept his eyes on hers though the temptation to let them roam over her body was strong. Especially as she lay back, propped on her elbows, presenting her breasts to him; he knew better than to touch them without instructions. "What would you like me to do?"

"A massage, as I said." She turned over, hiding her lovely breasts but revealing her back and derriere. John flexed his hands as he fought the urge to touch her body. She continued, "Start with my feet, then work your way up my legs. There's oil in the bag." She looked back at him, eyes hidden under half-closed lids. "And behave yourself, pet. There may be a reward if you do."

"Yes, Miss Sofia."

John reached for her bag and found the bag of suntan oil. He squeezed some into his hand, then rubbed his palms together to warm it.

"Hurry now, pet, I'm waiting."

"Yes, Miss." John reached down and closed his hands around one perfect foot, sighing to himself as he did. At last, he thought with relief, I'm touching her.

He rubbed in gentle but firm circles, taking care to stroke each toe, smiling to himself at the contented sigh he elicited from her. He finished one foot, then pampered the other, and then needed more oil to continue on her legs. As before, he squeezed some into his hand and warmed it up.

He shifted to the side and laid his hand on her leg, hissing out a breath as he ran his hand over the silky skin, stroking and kneading the muscles underneath.

"You've done this before, haven't you, pet?" Sofia shifted on the towel, causing her buttocks to roll under the thin material of her bikini bottom and John to catch his breath.

"Y…Yes, Miss Sofia. A time or two."

"You're quite good."

"Thank you, Miss."

"When you're done the other leg, you may rub the oil on my back, pet."

"Thank you, Miss Sofia."

John had to count backwards from ten to keep from exploding right then. Just the idea of running his hands over the satiny plains of her back was enough to make him harder than he'd ever been. Her order to do it made everything more intense. Deep breaths, he told himself, deep, deep breaths. He counted the inhales and exhales as he drizzled more oil onto his hand and warmed it.

His heart pounded as he lowered his hands to her back; he was almost surprised they weren't trembling. He was unable to stifle a groan as he touched the warm, smooth skin. "Thank you, Miss Sofia." One more deep breath, and the scent of her skin and the oil went straight to his head. "This is heaven."

She let out another husky laugh and this time the sound went straight to his groin. He gritted his teeth and counted until he was under control again. Another laugh like that, he thought, and I don't think I'll be able to contain myself.

"You may untie me, pet."

"Pardon, Miss?" John blinked; he'd been lost in tantalizing thoughts of Sofia.

"My top." She turned and regarded him with a cool gaze. "You may untie it so that no oil gets on my suit. You are paying attention, aren't you, pet?"

"Yes, Miss." He smiled over the excited knots in his stomach. "It was only your beauty that distracted me."

"You flatter me, pet." She favored him with a half-smile as she lay back down. "I like that."

John reached for his own towel to wipe the oil from his hands before reaching to untie the bow below her shoulder blades. His imagination started to veer into unexplored territory, conjuring images of her breasts unfettered by the blue material, but he pulled himself back and concentrated on the tie behind her neck.

With an audible swallow, he moved her hair—it was long and felt like silk, as he knew it would—to the side so that he wouldn't pull it as he loosened the strings on her top. He laid the strings on the towel and reached again for the suntan oil.

Sofia gave a soft, contented sigh. "Thank you, pet, that feels much nicer."

"I'm glad you're pleased, Miss Sofia."

There was silence for a few moments as John rubbed the oil onto her back with long, lingering strokes. He ran his fingers along her spine, and she arched her back in appreciation. "A little lower, pet."

Another deep breath and John let his hands go lower, kneading the muscles just above her backside, which was still hidden by the second piece of her bathing suit. Would she urge him to go even lower, he wondered, and let out a shaky breath at the thought.

"I think you've earned a small reward." Sofia's voice held a hint of teasing.

"Yes, Miss?" John kept his voice even.

"You can remove my suit bottom. Then you can massage my backside; I think I'd enjoy that."

As would I, he thought. Aloud, he said, "Yes, Miss. I'll do my best."

He hooked his fingers around the thin edges of the small piece of material, at her hips, and began to pull it down. His movements were slow, as much to ensure he didn't harm the material or scratch Sofia as to prolong his own pleasure, even if it was almost painful.

As the material came down, revealing the soft, round globes that were as tan as the rest of her body, John forced himself to look anywhere but there. He could feel his arousal, throbbing in his swim trunks, and he needed to keep himself under control. Looking at her shapely calves didn't make it easy, but it helped.

He set the suit bottom aside, took a deep breath and reached for the bottle again. He repeated his routine: pour the oil, set the bottle down, warm the oil in his hands. So as not to startle her, and to demonstrate he could show restraint, he began massaging her thighs, starting above her knees. He used short strokes this time, only wanting to accustom her to his hands since he'd already massaged her legs.

As he worked his way up, he let his gaze wander over her rear end. It was, as he'd suspected, perfect. Round and soft, lush like the rest of her. He tried not to hurry his strokes, but he'd been holding himself back so long that it became impossible. An inhale, an exhale, and at last he was touching the supple skin and feeling the muscles underneath.

Sofia shifted, her legs parting slightly, and before he could avert his eyes, John caught a glimpse of her sex. There were sparse dark curls and moisture glistened on them as well as the skin. He blinked, had an image of himself using his tongue to pleasure her, and his restraint broke. With a grunt, he turned slightly away from Sofia; he knew she would know what had happened, but he could at least try to keep her towel clean. One, two, three pulses and his trunks were wet, although not from the water. His breath was ragged.

"Are you all right, pet?" Sofia rose up on her elbows and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes slid up and down his body and she smiled. "You look…winded."

"I'm fine, Miss Sofia." He gave her a rueful smile. "I'm afraid I couldn't contain myself."

She laughed. "Literally, I see. Well, that's fine, pet." She reached over and stroked his thigh and he shivered at the unexpected sensation of her hand on his skin. "I'm flattered and I see no point in denying anyone pleasure."

"I hadn't meant to, Miss, but…your body is wonderful." His eyes darkened and he let a smile play over his lips. "I'm so glad you've given me the privilege of touching it."

"You should be." Sofia's tone went from playful to prim. "And now, I believe you have more work to do. I'll turn over."

John didn't even have a chance to catch his breath; she moved smoothly onto her back, propped up on her elbows, not even bothering to keep her top in place. He managed not to gape as he drank in the sight of her.

His gaze swept up from her feet, over the shapely calves and silky thighs, lingering for a moment on the dark curls between them before going on to a smooth abdomen. As he reached her breasts, he couldn't make himself hurry. He'd imagined them for what seemed like hours and now had the chance to look at them.

Reality exceeded his fantasy and his mouth went dry. He could imagine how the skin would feel under his hands, how the brown nipples would feel like pebbles as he ran his palms over them. That led to thoughts of how warm and wet she would feel lower, between her legs. He wondered if he was sweating; the idea of touching or tasting her there made him feel like a man dying of thirst being near an oasis.

"Go on, pet." Sofia gave him an arch look. "I don’t recall giving you permission to stare."

"My apologies, Miss." He ducked his head as he reached for the oil. "I couldn't look away."

"So I noticed." She lowered herself to the towel and closed her eyes. "Start with the feet again, pet, although you don’t need to take too long. That felt very nice. And remove your swimsuit," she added. "I like to look as well."

"Yes, Miss." His stomach tightened but he slid his trunks off, not daring to look at her face to see her reaction now.

As directed, John started with her feet, making sure to run his thumbs over the balls of her feet. She'd enjoyed that, he knew. After a few moments, he began working his way up her calves. His heart began to hammer in his chest and he took a break for more oil in large part to calm it. As he placed his hands on her knees and began to massage her thighs, he gave up trying to avoid looking at her sex.

She parted her legs, both to accommodate his hands but also, he thought, to tease him. Her pubic hair was sparse but curly, and he imagined how it would feel as he ran his fingers through—if she deigned to let him do so. Sofia had said she saw no point in denying pleasure; that didn't mean she might not have some fun delaying it.

He rubbed the oil into her skin, lingering as long as he could on her thighs, and then her hips and abdomen. He did rub his hand over the top of her mound, but it was far as he dared go. She's killing me, he thought as his pulse quickened, and she's probably loving every second of it.

He, on the other hand, was tensing up again. With her naked body before him and his hands on it, so close to such intimate places, his erection had returned in full force. When she moved a bit and brushed his erection with her hand, he gasped and had to stop his ministrations. His mind raced with thoughts of her keeping her hand in place, stroking him, but he shook them out and continued, although his heart was racing.

His hands were firm on her ribs as his thumbs moved in circles. He dared a glance up at her face and saw her eyes closed but a smile on her lips. Pleased that she appeared to be enjoying his efforts, he moved his hands up further so that he almost brushed the underside of her breasts.

Would she let him touch her breasts? The idea that she wouldn't made him feel hollow. Surely, after all this time, she would let him do that, wouldn't she?

"Pet?" Her voice cut through the fog of his thoughts.

"Yes, Miss Sofia?"

"You'll be doing my breasts next. Make sure use plenty of oil; the skin there can be sensitive and I don't like it to be dry."

"Of course, Miss."

John's heart stuttered as he once again poured oil into his hands and warmed it. Once again, he had a sense of being tested, and so he began rubbing the oil into the sides of her breasts, reveling in the soft warmth. Sofia made an approving noise and John relaxed. He carried on, paying close attention to her reactions and adjusting his touch accordingly.

He drew in a long, deep breath as his palms covered the front of her breasts and he felt her nipples underneath. The sensation was as he'd imagined, little pebbles under the center of his hands. His fingers dug gently into the tan flesh as he massaged, and there was no hiding his body's reaction. The one advantage, he thought, of having come earlier, was that despite how aroused he was, he'd last longer this time.

"Shoulders now, pet."

"Yes, Miss Sofia." With some reluctance, John moved along her body and reached over to rub her shoulders. His mind had started to drift when his body jerked; it took a moment to realize that she had touched him. Her finger traced lazy circles around his nipples. "Oh, Miss."

"You're very handsome, pet. I think I would enjoy your body."

"It's yours, of course, Miss Sofia."

"Is it now?"

He was coming to adore that laughing, questioning tone of her voice. "Certainly, Miss."

She let him work on her shoulders for a few more minutes before laying one hand on his arm. "That’s enough. Thank you, pet. That was wonderful."

"You're welcome, Miss Sofia. I'm glad I could please you."

"You did, and you aren't done yet."

John's heart raced as he fought back a grin. "No, Miss?"

"No." She sat up, and her breasts swayed. He bit the inside of his cheek to douse his excitement at the view. "You've already had your release, and I think it's hardly fair that I haven't had mine."

His eyes widened. "Miss Sofia, I'm sorry. If you had just told me…"

"I'm telling you now." Her tone was brisk. "And so, I think you should turn your efforts now to arousing me, don't you think? Shouldn't I feel the same pleasure?"

"Of course, Miss!" Desperation crept up within him. He wanted nothing more than to please her, he just needed the chance.

"Good." She nodded. "But I think…I think we will need to make it challenging." That playful note was in her voice again and he grew even harder. "So," she continued, "I think I have an idea for that."

"Yes, Miss Sofia?" He forced the words out through a dry throat.

"On your knees, pet, and turn around."

He did, and his member jumped as he felt her nimble fingers on his skin, and then something else.

"I'm finished; turn back now."

He obeyed and found that she'd restrained his hands. Looking around, he realized that the top of her bikini was missing. He closed his eyes and gave a low groan and moved his arms, realizing she'd used her top to tie them. It had seemed so flimsy on her, yet now it had no give. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, his breath racing as he met her gaze.

"Now, pet." She settled back on her elbows, then drew her knees up. "Your massage was quite good, but I'm looking for another form of relaxation now. I think you know what I mean." She leaned her knees to the left, then to the right, her legs together and hiding the part of her he was dying to see again. "You do know, don’t you, pet?"

He nodded, trying to keep his breathing steady.

"All right then." Inch by inch, she moved her legs apart. He stared, mesmerized. "Now, you'll have to be diligent, pet, since your hands are of no use."

"Yes…yes, Miss." His voice was just above a whisper.

"You may begin." Sofia remained propped on her arms, her legs now open, her sex in full view. "Now, pet."

"Yes, Miss Sofia."

John took a breath, then shuffled forward on his knees to get closer. He shifted to gain his balance, staring all the while at the sight before him, hardly daring to think it was real. He leaned forward, spreading his knees apart for balance and inhaling her scent, which made his senses reel.

Although he wanted to, he knew better than to assault her as though he hadn't seen a woman in years. Miss Sofia wouldn't appreciate that. He didn't want to make her wait, but neither did he want her to think he had no restraint, no finesse.

Then there was no more time to think, as her soft, wet nether lips were within reach of his tongue. He traced the edges, getting his first taste of her and groaning when he did. He smelled the coconut scent from her suntan oil, mixed with the sweet and salty essence of Sofia. A rush of excitement rolled through his body and with a major effort of will, he managed not to come.

"Very nice, pet. Continue." Her voice was low and husky and he throbbed again at both her tone and her approval.

Instead of thanking her, as he supposed he should have, he continued to explore her with his mouth. His tongue traveled in and out, around and over the silky, slick folds. Almost by accident, his tongue rubbed over the bud at the top and she jerked a little. John smiled to himself, pleased by her reaction. She was wet and flowing and he couldn't get enough of the way she tasted. He thought about what would happen when she came, and he began to concentrate on that instead of just exciting her.

She hissed out a breath as he redirected his efforts to her sensitive bud. "Yes, pet. Keep doing that."

He paused long enough to say, "Yes, Miss Sofia," in a raspy voice before resuming.

"Pet?" Her voice was even but he could hear the desire underneath.

"Yes, Miss?" He stopped once again, although it was hard. He looked up and saw her stroking her breasts and teasing her nipples.

"Be sure to contain yourself. I have further plans after this."

"Yes, Miss Sofia." With an effort, he put the vision of her rolling her nipples out of his head in order to comply with her wishes. His tongue flicked and swirled, and her breathing grew ragged as her hips moved against his mouth. After she made an audible gasp, he closed his lips over the spot and sucked. She bucked against him and cried out.

She hasn't told me to stop, John reasoned, so I'd better wait until she does. He smiled to himself as he continued to lick and suck, relishing every drop of her, every gasp and movement of her hips. After a time, he felt a hand on his head, pressing back, and he obeyed. He sighed in relief as he knelt back. As enjoyable as it had been, his body was shaking from the effort of pleasing her without being able to use his arms even to brace himself.

There was no sound aside from the wind through the leaves and the ragged breathing of the two on the sand.

"You are a treasure, pet." Sofia took a deep breath and laid her hands on her stomach. "I was fortunate to find you."

"So was I, Miss." John relaxed a bit, sat back on his heels and tried to even out his breathing. "I had feared I'd spend this whole vacation at a loss for what to do."

She laughed. "I thought the whole point of a vacation was not having much to do."

He chuckled and shrugged. "That too, but when I looked ahead and saw all this open time, I wasn't sure what to do with it."

"Well." Sofia rose to her knees. "I think we might be able to keep you occupied, pet. If you'd like."

"I would." He nodded.

"Good." She studied him for a moment, then looked concerned. "Are you all right, pet?"

"Fine, Miss Sofia," he assured her. "Although I would ask that my arms be released, just for a few moments."

"I think we can compromise." Sofia stood and walked behind him. He felt the warmth of her body as she knelt down, and the soft brush of her nipples against his back. He dropped his head forward and concentrated on not coming.

She released his hands and he sighed as he brought his arms forward, rolling his shoulders and rubbing his wrists to release the tension. Sofia watched as he did and then said, "Here, pet. Hold out your hands."

He did and she bound them again, this time in front. "There." She smiled. "That should do nicely. Now, lay back on the towel, pet."

With a feeling of pleasant apprehension, he did. He had to admit it wasn’t a bad situation. Lying on the towel, with his arms in front of him, he could at last let his body relax. He also had a perfect view of Sofia's lush body above him and had lifted his hands up to her before he realized it. She raised and eyebrow and tsk-ed in mock disappointment.

"I never said to touch, pet. That calls for a bit more punishment." Sofia reached over and found her suit bottom, and arranged it to cover his eyes. "Now, lift your arms over your head."

His body tense with anticipation, he did. How could I have done that? he wondered. He could sense her next to him, but it was torture not to be able to see her. He could rely on his imagination, of course, but to be denied the sight of her body now, when he was helpless before her…Her voice caught his attention again.

"If you behave pet, perhaps I'll remove that. For now, you're just mine."

"Yes…yes, Miss."

"And what a lovely body this is," she murmured. She dragged her fingernails over his chest; his nipples hardened and every muscle in his body clenched. In a low, silky voice, she made comments as she stroked his skin, touching him everywhere but the one place he knew—and she knew—he wanted to be touched the most.

"Patience, pet." Her voice was a husky whisper by his ear, and her tongue flicked out over the lobe. He couldn't help the way his body jerked. "Control, pet." She tsk-ed again. "I'm not ready for that yet. I know you won't disappoint me."

"N..no, Miss."

She resumed her explorations, and he gasped when he caught the scent of her sex again. She settled her body over his chest, and the warm wetness he felt made holding off his orgasm one of the great challenges of his life. Somehow, he managed.

When she at last wrapped her fingers around his erection, he couldn't hold back a long, low groan. His hips arched up as her hand moved up and down in slow, firm strokes. "Oh, Miss. I am so grateful."

"I know." A few more languorous strokes and she said, "Remember, pet. Control."

He didn't have time to acknowledge it before she took him in her mouth. His eyes widened beneath his blindfold and he blanked his mind in his efforts to retain the control she had admonished him about.

Her tongue whirled around him, over the head of his shaft and then down the sides. She held him still with her hands as her mouth played over him. He'd never felt anything like this in his life and doubted he would again. Still, he concentrated on holding himself back. She might take you inside her body, he told himself. That's worth waiting for. There was no guarantee, but focusing on that helped keep him from exploding from her attentions.

He wished she'd uncover his eyes. Her backside, he thought, would be in a perfect position for him to admire it. He might even catch a glimpse of those wonderful, wet lips if she leaned forward far enough. As she leaned forward, sliding her mouth up and down his erection, he could feel her breasts and nipples as they grazed his skin.

She continued for some time and he began to think he wasn’t going to last when she trailed her tongue up his length and then sat up. He felt her move and bit back a moan at the idea that he'd missed seeing that part of her again. Then she stroked his face and he blinked as she removed the makeshift blindfold.

"You have amazing control, pet." She smiled and ran her tongue over her lips. "I've had many men who haven't lasted half as long as you."

"I've let myself hope for a reward, Miss." He gave her a pained smile in return. "It helped keep my focus."

"I'm sure it did." She ran one finger over his lips, then along his jaw. "I'm of a mind to give you that reward, although there's one final task."

"Anything, Miss."

"Bring your arms down."

John moved his arms forward so that his hands rested on his stomach, inches from the wet heat that he itched to touch.

"Now." She gave him a predatory look and moved her body up until her thighs were on either side of his face. "Once more, pet."

Anything, Miss. He kept his eyes open as she lifted her sex over his lips and lowered herself so that he had access. Once again he dragged his tongue over the lips, savoring her taste, and then, as she came even closer, he thrust his tongue inside. She made a sound low in her throat and he continued, alternating sliding his tongue inside with running it over the wonderful little pearl; the action made her rock her hips back and forth.

Sensitive from his earlier attentions, Sofia climaxed after only a few moments. John was pleased but wished he could have made it last longer. He managed one last slide of his tongue inside her before she rose up and maneuvered herself back.

"That was lovely." Sofia's eyes were bright and her lips a deep red, swollen slightly from where she'd bitten her lip. "And now, I think we've both been waiting for this."

John stared, mesmerized, as she rose up over him, then lowered herself just enough so that the tip of his staff brushed the velvet heat of her sex. She rocked back and forth and he hissed out a breath.

"Remember, pet," she said as she slid lower. "Not too quickly." He gritted his teeth as her body enveloped him. For a moment he was lost in the sensation. She was wet like the ocean, hot like the sun.

"You feel wonderful, Miss. Thank you." John stared at her, watched as her breasts bounced in time with the rhythm she set, raising and lowering herself on him. Her dusky lips hid and then revealed his own raging desire; he had no idea how he had lasted this long without coming.

"I need more stimulation, pet." She rolled her hips as she leaned forward, presenting her breasts to him. "Go on, use your mouth." She winked and gave him a wicked grin. "You used it so well on other parts of me."

"Yes, Miss." He raised his head and took one hardened nipple in his mouth, pleased when she threw her head back and gave a soft cry. After a moment, he pulled back and released the delicious pebble with a small pop, then turned to take the other one between his lips and tongue. He laved it, sucking and running his tongue in circles.

Sofia groaned and flexed her muscles and he let go with a gasp.

"Miss Sofia. I'm sorry, I can't…"

Her body clamped around his. "Now, pet! Come now!"

He could only obey, his hips thrusting up into her almost of their own volition. It seemed like every molecule in his body came apart in her; he saw stars. She collapsed on top of him; he wished he could stroke her back, but his hands were still bound.

He was first aware of the quiet. Aside from their quiet, ragged breathing, he heard nothing. Then there was the sound of the waves; then, the breeze through the leaves. Music flitted down from the restaurants and clubs in the resort. He opened his eyes and saw the sun was setting, wondered how long they had been there.

"My, pet. I never thought I'd meet someone like you at a place like this."

He laughed and she joined in as she pushed herself up. "I hadn't expected to meet anyone like you, either, Miss Sofia."

She smiled as she untied her top. "I think you can call me Sofia. For now."

John sat up and reached for his towel. He shook it out and wiped the sand off of Sofia's arms and legs. "If you'd like."

"You're here alone, aren't you, John?"

He paused before answering. "I arrived alone."

She stepped into her suit bottom, then swung the top from her fingers. He held his breath. "Tie this for me, please."

"Of course, M…Sofia." He stood, his own suit still on the ground and tied the halter around her neck and back.

"And you'll need that." She gestured at his trunks, then gave a smile that has his blood rushing south again. She laughed. "Especially if that's going to happen again."

He pulled on his trunks and shook out his towel. "It's only a testament to your beauty."

"You are a flatterer." She shook her head, still smiling. "I think I may need to keep you around."

"At your service, of course."

They walked back to the beach, returned their towels and began making their way back to the guest buildings.

"Which one are you staying in?" Sofia asked.

"Building Seventeen, second floor." John turned to look at her; her head came about to his shoulder. Her dark hair was lustrous and gave no sign of their earlier activities.

"Fate must be on my side." Sofia let her eyes run up and down his body once more. "I'm also in building Seventeen, on the third floor."

"What luck." John stepped back to allow her to go first on the path when it narrowed. "Perhaps we'll see each other." He didn't try to hide the hopeful note in his voice.

"Oh, I believe we will."

The rest of the walk passed in companionable silence, with a faint undercurrent of tension. They arrived at their building, and John offered to see her to her room. She accepted and they ascended the steps together. Her room was on the corner, providing a view of both the ocean and some of the grounds.

"I believe it must be time for dinner." Sofia pulled her card key out and tapped it against her fingers.

"It is." He nodded. "If I may, I'd be honored if you would join me."

"Yes, I'm sure you would." She slid the key through the reader, then pushed the door open. "If so, pet, you'd better hurry. I'm hungry and will be ready in twenty minutes."

His eyes gleamed. "Yes, Miss Sofia."