Island Nights, Dirty Deeds

The salt air hung heavy, laced with the scent of coconut and something darker, something primal, as we stepped off the tiny prop plane onto the tarmac of Isla Escondida. It was exactly what we’d come for – a week of sun, sand, and unbridled passion, a carefully crafted escape from the mundane realities of our lives. The island was small, dominated by a single, luxurious resort clinging to the edge of a turquoise bay, and a handful of rustic bungalows nestled amongst the palm trees. The vibe was immediately intoxicating: a blend of laid-back Caribbean charm and blatant disregard for inhibitions. The resort bar, “The Siren’s Song,” remained stubbornly open until 2 AM, a beacon of hedonistic pleasure in the humid night air.

From the moment we arrived, I had a plan simmering beneath the surface, a slow, deliberate seduction that would culminate in an evening of exquisite, unrestrained pleasure. I knew my husband, Mark, well enough to understand his desires – his appreciation for power, his weakness for a little teasing, and his undeniable love for my body. The dance floor at The Siren’s Song was crowded with tanned bodies swaying to the reggae beat, but I made it my mission to find him. I wore a pair of loose, white linen pants, deliberately avoiding underwear, the cool fabric clinging to my skin as I moved. As we danced, I subtly, repeatedly rubbed my backside against his thigh, feeling the heat building beneath his trousers. He was a strong man, built for action, and the contact sent shivers down my spine. There was a definite hardness in his erection, a clear indication of his arousal, but I held back, savoring the anticipation. He began to pull slightly, a frustrated gesture, clearly wanting to reciprocate, but I remained firm, maintaining my dominance. I knew that teasing him was the key, and it seemed he was enjoying the chase.

The scent of rum punch hung in the air, mingling with the salty breeze as we left the bar, a shared sense of satisfaction radiating between us. "Let's go back to the room," I suggested, a sly smile playing on my lips. "I'm suddenly feeling quite hungry. Room service, perhaps?" It was a blatant lie, designed to gauge his reaction, to see just how much he craved the indulgence. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, but his desire quickly won out. As we approached our opulent suite, I made a pointed remark about the lack of anything to eat. He sighed dramatically, pulling off his belt and unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his impressive physique. The sight of his erect cock, a magnificent testament to his arousal, sent a fresh wave of anticipation through me. I ordered a feast – lobster, steak, shrimp, all the decadent delights a man could desire, and instructed the operator to bring it promptly.

While he stripped down to his boxers, I began to explore my own desires, running my hands over my bare clitoris, savoring the anticipation. The anticipation of the food arriving, and the even greater anticipation of the pleasure that awaited. Twenty-five minutes, the operator had said. Perfect timing. Mark, now fully naked and vulnerable, brushed his teeth in the bathroom mirror, his gaze avoiding mine. I took the opportunity to remove my own clothes, the silk slipping from my skin, and then began to gently caress my clitoris, building the heat, preparing myself for the inevitable. The room felt charged with unspoken desire, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

As the first course arrived, a steaming platter of lobster, I placed it on the table and turned my attention back to Mark, who was still preoccupied with his oral hygiene. I picked up the phone and placed the order, confirming the delivery time. “Twenty-five minutes?” I repeated, a playful note in my voice. "That’s perfect timing, thanks." He grumbled something about being hungry, but his eyes betrayed his excitement. The food was indeed delivered promptly, and as I began to devour the succulent lobster, I felt my body responding to the sheer pleasure of anticipation.

Once the first course was finished, I moved on to the steak, savoring each bite while simultaneously teasing Mark, my fingers tracing the outline of his hard cock. He responded with a frustrated groan, pulling slightly on my hand, desperate to initiate the inevitable. I allowed him to pull a little, just enough to build the tension, before returning my focus to my own enjoyment. I ordered another bottle of rum, the sweet scent mingling with the aroma of the food as we continued our feast.

Finally, as we reached the final course, a plate of perfectly grilled shrimp, I declared, "I need my pussy eaten." The words hung in the air, a blatant invitation that he couldn't ignore. Without hesitation, he grabbed my cock, the familiar sensation sending a jolt of electricity through my body. Leading him to the bed, I positioned myself for maximum pleasure, feeling a surge of power as I took control of the situation. He pushed me down onto the plush mattress, burying his face between my legs, his hands exploring my body with unrestrained passion. One hand caressed my nipples, while the other meticulously worked its way up my shaft, teasing and stimulating my sensitive flesh. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, as my body tensed with anticipation. Within moments, I began to cum, the release a torrent of pure sensation.

I grabbed his head and held it against my clitoris, intensifying the pleasure, my body vibrating with each wave of orgasm. Then, without warning, I flipped over on my side, urging him to continue. “Get back to work!” I commanded, my voice dripping with desire. He obliged, his hands continuing their relentless assault on my pussy. The sounds of our mutual pleasure filled the room, a symphony of lust and release.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the suite. "Room service," a soft Jamaican accent announced. Mark, lost in his own world of pleasure, hadn't even noticed the arrival of our order. But I had, and this was the perfect opportunity to escalate the game. I quickly got up, grabbing one of his travel hoodies and pulling it over my head, leaving it unzipped, allowing a tantalizing glimpse of my naked body beneath. I opened the door to reveal a young woman, her eyes flashing with amusement, holding a tray laden with our decadent feast. She glanced at Mark, who was still lost in the throes of pleasure, and then at my exposed attire, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Enjoy!" she chirped before disappearing back out the door. As she closed the door behind her, I returned to the bed, taking up the position we had been enjoying just moments before. Mark, still erect and throbbing, slid into me with ease, and it wasn't long before I began to cum again. Our combined orgasms reverberated through the room, a testament to our shared pleasure. As I rose to my feet, Mark, breathless and satisfied, asked, "Did you plan that?" I turned to him, a mischievous glint in my eyes, and replied, "Maybe." A slow, seductive smile spread across my face as I walked towards the shower, leaving him alone on the bed, lost in the lingering echoes of our passionate encounter. The scent of rum punch and the lingering warmth of our bodies filled the room, a fragrant reminder of the night's exquisite pleasure, a night perfectly planned, perfectly executed, and perfectly unforgettable.

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