You can change the width of the story text shown below:
Use how much percent of the screen width?
Options: Plain text or PDF (fanclub only!) version | Mark story | Mark author
Don't forget to vote for this story, in the yellow voting box below the story!
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story
rhythm that mimicked the tide’s lazy retreat. Beki straddled the log behind him, tearing a strip of roasted duck with her teeth before leaning forward to guide it between his lips. His chuckle vibrated through the instrument when her fingertips lingered on his jaw. "Greedy," he accused around the mouthful, but the next beat was heavier, hotter, his heel digging into the sand to drive the tempo deeper.
Biraj’s laugh cut sharply through the murmur, a delighted, breathless sound as Freya’s knee pressed against his thigh beneath the low table. Astrid’s fingertip traced a kanji character onto his damp collarbone, her lips brushing his ear. "Wrong again," she murmured, and he shivered despite the fire’s heat. The twins’ game was a serpentine thing: words slid between languages, points stolen with teeth and tongue. Biraj’s fingers twitched toward the inkwell, but Freya caught his wrist, her thumb pressing the fluttering pulse there. "Forfeit’s due," she said, and his throat clicked when he swallowed.
Malik’s hips rolled in a slow figure-eight, his calloused palm guiding Nuvua’s waist as she mirrored his steps. The dance was capoeira’s bastard child, all sinuous intent and coiled readiness. Her shyness evaporated with each pivot, her laughter bright when he spun her under his arm. The firelight painted her Inuit tattoos liquid gold, her bare feet kicking up sand as Kaled’s drumbeats urged her faster. Malik’s grin flashed white. "There you are," he breathed, and her answering smile was a revelation.
Leilani sank onto the woven mat with a groan, her shoulders loosening as the night’s work finally left her muscles. Aitor wordlessly handed her a clay cup of something that smelled of ginger and dark rum. She took it with a nod, her fingers brushing his, a fleeting thing, but his exhale hitched. The Chief of Security settled behind her, his strong fingers kneading her tense shoulder and neck muscles. "You fought well," she said, nodding toward the sparring pit’s trampled sand. Aitor’s shrug was a minute tilt of his shoulder, but his gaze flicked to Mandla’s silhouette by the water’s edge. "Zulus are legendary in their skill. Even better than the samari, they say." Leilani mused, and Aitor’s hum was neutral. She hid her smile in her drink and reveled in Aitor's skilled fingers.
Salt crusted the rim of Mandla’s cup as he lifted it to his lips. The fermented coconut wine burned sweet down his throat. Behind him, the firepit spat embers skyward, catching in Sea-ah’s hair like falling stars. She’d shed her wrap, the torchlight carving shadows between the lean muscles of her back as she bent to whisper something to Salma. The CFO’s laugh was a rich, smoky thing. Mandla’s fingers tightened around his cup. Tomorrow’s frost would steal this heat, replace sweat with layers of the special insulated gear developed centuries ago.
Nick’s palm slapped his bare shoulder, half camaraderie, half grounding weight. “Thinking too loud,” he muttered, swaying slightly from the wine. The horizon swallowed the last sliver of sun, the ocean sighing against their ankles. Around them, the team sprawled in slow-motion collapse: Leilani’s head lolled against Aitor’s thigh, her fingers slack around an empty coconut shell; Sisa traced idle patterns in Salma’s hair where it fanned across the sand. Even Kaled’s drumming had softened, the beats stretching like taffy between his calloused fingers. The air smelled of charred sugar and exhaustion.
Nadine watched from the fire’s edge, her bare toes curling into cooled embers. Pete sidled up behind her, his chest pressing warm against her spine. “They’re drowning in tomorrow,” she murmured, thumbing the hollow of his wrist. The team’s laughter was thin, stretched too far, like ice cracking underfoot. Pete inhaled sharply, catching the tension coiled in Sea-ah’s shoulders as she sharpened a stick to splinters, the way Mandla’s jaw worked when he glanced northward. Nadine tilted her head back, lips brushing Pete’s stubble. “They need fire, not funeral rites.”
Pete vanished into the jungle’s black maw. The drums stuttered when he returned, but only Nuvua noticed, her artist’s eye catching the gleam of the lacquered pouch in his grip. He crouched by the firepit, whispering what might’ve been a prayer or a recipe. The powder hit the embers with a sound like tearing silk. Flame geysered upward, painting startled faces in gold and violet. The smoke smelled of frangipani and monsoon rain, and quickly flooded, then cleared and moved out to the entire island.
Nuvua’s inhalation was sharp, sudden. Her fingers twitched, not toward Malik’s outstretched hand, but to the knotted ties of her bikini. The fabric slithered to the same. "I'm going for a swim. Anyone want to join me?” she announced as her bare feet carried her toward the surf. Moonlight turned her Inuit tattoos into living silver as the waves swallowed her dive whole.
Malik's suit lay beside Nuvua's as he followed her silvered wake, the ocean swallowing his footsteps before they could form. Beki's and Kaled's naked bodies crashed through the shallows behind him, her compact frame vaulting onto Kaled’s shoulders, thighs clamping his ribs as she snatched a fistful of his locs like reins. The drummer’s basso profundo laugh rolled across the water, dissolving into gasps when Beki’s teeth found his earlobe.
With the ice broken, the laua cleared in pairs and groups. All except Pete and Nadine. They sat calmly by the fire, sipping on their drinks. Eventually, Pete threw the remainder of his drink onto the fire with a sensual hiss.
"Care to take a stroll, my love?" Pete asked Nadine. "I would love nothing more," she replied. They rose, and Pete offered her an arm.
"Where to?" She asked. "How 'bout Black Rock Cove?" she answered. "Lead on, my dear." And they started up the beach, with Nadine's arm entwined in Pete's.
Looking out toward the surf, they saw Malik surface from a wave to find Nuvua’s legs wrapped around his waist, her nose pressed to his. "Looks like the little artist has found her confidence and a new playmate," Nadine said, watching Nuvua and Malik frolic in the surf.
Along the way, they passed Astrid and Freya engaged with an outclassed Biraj.
"Our young prankster doesn't stand a chance, Nadine observed as Astrid’s teeth closed on the collar of his tunic while Freya’s palm flattened against his sternum—not pushing, simply claiming. The fabric tore like rice paper. Their discarded garments fluttered behind them like wounded gulls as they herded him up the beach, his laughter breathless against Freya’s mouth. The twins moved as one organism, their braids whipping like twin lashes across Biraj’s shoulders.
When they arrived at Black Rock Cove, they witnessed Sami, the young loatian woman, and Molly, a rubenesque ex-tavern girl from Coventry, "entertaining" several of their male coworkers.
Molly knelt in front of a group of young men, devouring them as she travelled down the line. Her large breasts swinging to a steady rhythm. Pete leaned to Nadine and commented, "I think what Sami is engaged in is called being split roasted."
"Not quite, my love. Look, there is one young man lying under her and another pushing from behind her. I think that is what the youths call 'air-tight," Nadine corrected him. A few men watched on, entertaining themselves, and a couple entertained each other.
"Those two seem to have the situation under control. Just hope the guys can keep up," Nadine laughed.
Strolling along the shoreline, the couple heard multiple voices and saw many parings and groups of all sorts of confirations. "Why that randy old bastard," Pete snorted. "Saltuk finally caught Theodora."
"Or maybe she finally let him catch her. They've been playing cat and mouse for centuries," Nadine countered.
Just inside the tree line, the couple saw Sea-ah’s knife flash once, not in threat but precision, severing Mandla’s loincloth ties without grazing skin. He caught her wrist, but she’d skillfully twisted free, sprinting for the treeline, her swimsuit left in a line of breadcrumbs. Mandla issued a Zulu curse as he ran after her. "That's going to be an energetic, and I suspect loud, coupling. I hope we will not need to bandage either," Nadine posed.
Nick’s roar of laughter caught their attention. Followed by Maeve's echo, she mounted him like a prized stallion, her teeth in his shoulder. "Good to see the leadership setting a good example," Pete said as he and Nadine sauntered past.
Their stroll took them by Leilani and Aitor. They had at least thought to lay down a blanket on the sand. Lielani's back was arched high, and her long legs were tightly wrapped around Aitor's back as he skillfully and forcefully encouraged her orgasms.
They watched Sisa and Salma gracefully glide into the jungle, naked, hand in hand, and as regal as exiled queens reclaiming their throne. The firelight gilded Salma’s spine as she paused beneath a banyan, turning Sisa’s face toward hers with two fingers under the chin. Their kiss was a transaction of breath, a silent exchange of terms. Then the shadows took them whole. "Good to see that they resolved their issues," Nadine observed.
Pete watched Nadine shed her sarong with ceremonial slowness and stepped into Pete's arms. Her hands firmly gripped his ass and pulled him close. "Why don't we join the fun, my love?" she asked Pete. "Why not indeed," he happily agreed as he swept her off her feet and carried her to a mossy clearing just inside the jungle.
Freya’s braid lashed across Biraj’s chest as Astrid pinned his wrists to damp sand. Their synchronization was terrifying, one twin’s tongue tracing his nipple while the other’s knee parted his thighs. He arched, not in resistance but surrender, his moan lost in the crash of waves. The twins shared a glance over his shuddering body, some silent algorithm recalculating. Then Freya’s mouth sealed over his, Astrid’s nails scoring parallel red highways down his ribs.
Mandla’s back hit a palm trunk, Sea-ah’s knee between his thighs. Her breath came in hot bursts against his throat. “Cheater,” he accused, catching her hips. She grinned, all feline triumph, and bit his lower lip in retaliation. With a warrior's lightning speed and strength, Mandla grabbed Sea-ah's hips and lifted her onto his face. Her laugh splintered into a gasp as he devoured her. She wrapped her legs around his head and leaned back, lost in Mandla's tongue.
The jungle exhaled steam where Salma braced Sisa against a strangler fig, their mouths wet and reckless. Sisa’s moan hitched when Salma’s teeth found the tendon of her neck; she retaliated by hauling her up by the thighs, her Inca strength spinning them until Salma’s back met moss. Their joined laughter was dark as rum, as Sisa pinned her wrists and licked into her mouth like a woman claiming territory.
On the beach, Beki rode Kaled’s hips with the same effortless dominance she wielded in the saddle, her small hands fisted in his locks. The drummer’s rhythm had migrated south, his palms stuttering against her waist, his groan syncopated when she leaned back to let the moonlight gloss her breasts. “Not enough,” she taunted, rolling her hips slowly. Kaled’s answering snarl sent small animals skittering away from nearby reeds.
Sea-ah’s gasp was half-laugh as Mandla flipped her onto all fours, the sand gritting under her palms. She made a feral and fractured cry he pushed his entire length into her in one quick motion. Her spine bowed under the sudden fullness. Her fingers clawed grooves in the wet sand, the tide licking at her knuckles like a hungry thing.
Beki’s thighs trembled around Kaled’s waist, her head thrown back so far her braid brushed the waves. The drummer’s hands, calloused from decades of drumskin, were shockingly tender as they mapped the dip of her lower back. When she ground down, his moan harmonized with the distant cry of a night heron. "You’re greedy tonight," he rasped, but the accusation shattered when she clenched around him, her teeth bared at the moon.
Salma’s whimper was muffled against Sisa’s collarbone, her nails scoring crescents into the other woman’s biceps. The logistics chief had her pinned against a palm trunk, one hand fisted in Salma’s hair, the other working between them with merciless precision. Every thrust of Sisa’s hips sent the CFO’s gold ankle bells chiming, a frenetic counterpoint to their ragged breaths. When Salma came, her back arched clean off the tree, her cry thin and bright as shattered glass.
Nuvua’s thighs tightened around Malik’s ribs as he knelt in the shallows, his tongue tracing the salt from her inner knee. The water buoyed them, rocking their bodies in a rhythm older than language. When he finally looked up, her pupils were blown black, her lips parted on a silent plea. He answered by surging up, capturing her mouth as he sheathed himself inside her in one fluid motion. The ocean swallowed her scream, the waves foaming around their waists like applause.
Pete’s palms skated up Nadine’s spine as she straddled him in the dappled moonlight, her movements fluid as mercury. The healing powder’s aftermath thrummed under their skin, syncing their pulses until they shared one heartbeat. When she rolled her hips just so, a deep, carnal groan involuntarily escaped his lips. "Again," he demanded, and her laugh was a dark promise as she obeyed.
Biraj's legs were in the air as Freya pushed in a strap that they had "Borrowed" from Sisa and Salma. Astrid was mounted on his face as her hand slowly moved along his shaft. The twins moved in devastating synchronicity. Biraj cried "harder!" and "don't stop," and both were muffled by Astrid's grinding motion.
Aitor’s growl reverberated through Leilani’s ribs where he had her pressed face-first against a boulder, his grip on her hips bordering on brutal. The chef’s laughter dissolved into a moan when he bit the junction of her neck, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on rain-slick stone. "More," she panted, and the security chief obliged with a thrust that knocked her silver bracelets clattering.
Somewhere beyond the tree line, Maeve’s voice rang out, a triumphant, wordless cry, and the very stars seemed to shudder in response.
Sea-ah arched like a drawn bow under Mandla’s relentless rhythm, her fingers twisting in his sweat-slick locs. The scent of crushed hibiscus mingled with the musk of their bodies, thick enough to taste. Her gasp dissolved into laughter when he surged deeper—half challenge, half surrender—and his answering growl sent a tremor through the damp sand beneath them. The tide rushed in, swallowing their mingled moans like a jealous lover.
Malik’s mouth traced the constellation of Nuvua’s tattoos, inked prayers to forgotten gods, as she rode him in the shallows. Each roll of her hips sent silver droplets cascading from her collarbones, the water amplifying every slick slide of skin on skin. When she threw her head back, moonlight caught in the hollow of her throat, and he bit down—not hard enough to mark, just enough to make her gasp. Her thighs tightened around him in silent reprimand, her nails scoring crescents into his shoulders.
Kaled’s drumming hands now gripped Beki’s waist as she undulated above him, her compact frame casting jagged shadows across his torso. The reindeer mistress moved with the same effortless precision she used in the saddle—each deliberate contraction wringing a choked groan from the musician. When she leaned forward to lick the pulse point beneath his jaw, his hips stuttered off the sand, his locs fanning out like black seaweed beneath them.
The strapon ditched, Astrid’s teeth closed on Biraj’s lower lip as Freya sheathed him inside her with a slow, devastating roll of her hips. The twins moved in eerie synchrony, one’s fingers twisting in his hair while the other’s nails raked down his ribs, until his whimper dissolved into a shattered moan. The jungle canopy swallowed their gasps whole.
Salma’s ankle bells chimed a frantic rhythm against Sisa’s thigh, where the logistics chief had her braced against a moss-slick boulder. Every thrust drew another bitten-off cry from Salma’s lips, her head thrashing against Sisa’s collarbone. When Sisa finally stilled, Salma’s sob echoed through the mangroves, her body shaking violently.
Nadine’s laughter curled like smoke around Pete’s ears as she rode him beneath the frangipani tree, her movements fluid and relentless. The healing powder still pulsed in their veins, turning every touch electric. When he thumbed the exact spot that made her back bow, her fingernails bit into his chest, a silent warning, but he only grinned and did it again. Her retaliatory roll of hips stole his breath.
Freya and Astrid moved as one entity, herding Sisa and Salma toward a moss-cushioned hollow. The CFO’s ankle bells chimed a frantic warning, but the twins’ synchronized advance left no room for retreat. Freya advanced on Sisa’s, pushing to the moss and eagerly kissing and licking her breasts. Astrid pinned Salma with lightning speed and crawled between her legs. Salma’s moan tangled with Sisa’s as the twins conquered their prey. The jungle air thickened with the scent of saporous lust.
Malik surfaced from Nuvua’s embrace to find Kaled’s calloused hands sliding up his ribs, the musician’s locs dripping seawater down his back. Beki’s laughter rang out as she straddled both men, her thighs bracketing Malik’s hips while her palms pressed Kaled’s chest. “Balance,” she commanded, and the toy maker understood; his body became the fulcrum between Beki’s rolling hips and Kaled’s thrusts, the three moving in a rhythm older than the stars. Nuvua’s fingers traced the salt-crusted grooves of Malik’s spine before her mouth found Beki’s, their shared gasp lost in the crash of waves.
Across the beach, alliances shifted like tides, and as dawn arrived and the tide slowly crept up like a shy lover, the beach was strewn with tangled bodies, Aitor’s massive forearm draped over Leilani’s waist, her silver bracelets dulled by sand. Beki lay curled against Kaled’s ribs, her fingers still twined in Malik’s locs while Nuvua’s cheek pressed against the toy maker’s shoulder blades. Sea-ah sprawled atop Mandla’s chest, one leg hooked possessively over Nick’s thigh, Maeve’s fiery mane fanning across all three like a living blanket.
Nuvua stirred first, her breath catching as bruised muscles protested. She peeled herself from Malik’s sweat-slick back, her knees trembling as she staggered toward the ocean. The water kissed her ankles, then her calves, each wave colder than the last, washing salt from the twin crescents Malik’s nails had left on her hips.
Maeve and Leilani rose next, their laughter low and throaty as they waded in. The druid’s crimson hair fanned across the surface like spilled wine while Leilani’s silver bracelets flashed with each playful splash. There was no urgency now, only the easy rhythm of bodies rinsing away the night’s excess—Leilani’s fingers combing sand from Maeve’s tangled mane, Maeve’s palm cupping water to pour it down the chef’s spine. Their touches lingered without demand, a silent acknowledgment of spent passions.
The twins emerged next, their identical silhouettes cutting through the shallows with eerie synchronicity. Freya scooped handfuls of seawater over Astrid’s shoulders, dislodging bits of moss from their braided silver hair. Neither spoke, but their laughter bubbled up in unison when Malik—still half-asleep—stumbled into the surf behind them, his startled yelp sending Nuvua into silent giggles. The toy maker’s drowsy grin was infectious, soon mirrored by Kaled as he scrubbed salt from Beki’s back with a conch shell.
Mandla’s deep chuckle carried across the water as he helped Sea-ah rinse the sand from her hair, his fingers surprisingly gentle despite the fresh scratches raking his chest. Nearby, Aitor methodically dunked his entire head underwater, surfacing with a grunt that made Leilani snort into her palm. The chef flicked water at the security chief’s stony face—only to yelp when he retaliated by lifting her bodily and tossing her into deeper waves. Their splash sent ripples toward Pete and Nadine, who floated on their backs like contented seals, fingers loosely entwined.
Nick’s laughter rumbled against Maeve’s back where he stood chest-deep in the turquoise water, his palms spanning her waist as she leaned into him.
"If you would please, my dear," Nick asked his mate. A wiggling of her fingers and a wave of her arm, and Nick's voice boomed across the island, "Let's go home." Not a command, never that with this crew, but the inevitable next note in their shared rhythm.
The beach emptied in increments, towels left draped over driftwood, abandoned sarongs fluttering like surrender flags in the dawn breeze. No one paused to collect them; the tide would claim the fabric remnants of their solstice revelry, just as last year’s had. The path into the jungle swallowed them whole, bare feet finding familiar roots, sun-warmed shoulders brushing against hibiscus blooms still heavy with dew. Somewhere ahead, Malik’s drowsy humming tangled with the twins’ murmured Norse counting game as they navigated the trail’s forks without breaking stride.
Only the swimsuits remained, vivid splashes of color strewn across the sand like shed skins. The sea crept closer with each wave, saltwater fingers teasing at a crimson bikini top still shaped by Leilani’s curves, a pair of black trunks crumpled where Mandla had stepped out of them mid-chase. Aitor’s tactical knife belt lay coiled beside them, the leather darkened by spray. Tomorrow’s logistics meeting would require replacements, but for now, the artifacts of the night could rest where they fell.
The jungle canopy closed overhead with a sigh of moving leaves, erasing all traces of the team’s passage except for the occasional glint of a dropped bracelet or the indentation of a heel in soft earth. Somewhere beyond the green veil, tent zippers hissed shut, hammocks creaked under familiar weight, and copper bathtubs filled with water drawn from the hot springs. The island held its breath, just for a moment, before the suitcase latches snapped open in unison.
Do you like this story? If you do, you may be interested to know that the
author also has several other stories on the site that are available
to the members of the EroticStories.com FanClub!
Click here to read more about the FanClub.
Request from webmaster Art:
Don't forget to vote for this story in the yellow voting box below!
Authors really appreciate the votes and it only takes a few seconds!
Options: Plain text or
PDF (
fanclub only!) version for easy saving or printing
ESmail: Click here to send a private message to MjBarbag (with ESmail, the site's internal message system)
Profile for MjBarbag, incl. 21 stories
Email: mjbarbag@yahoo.com
Add this author to your favorite author list
Add this story to your favorite story list