One is not enough

4 min read

His eyes were transfixed on her crotch. But her legs were crossed. He inwardly implored her to part them. Pamela was proud of the effect she had on men. She was wearing a short skirt and transparent underwear and using public transport. She opened her legs Sharon Stone style, briefly, and then swung them closed again. The nerdy guy seated right across gulped and his eyes were all but bulging out of their sockets.

”Go home and jerk off over this, little boy!” she thought, smiling to herself.

Pamela liked to live life king sized. Or queen sized, if you will. And she had a great sense of occasion. Her birthdays were an orchestrated event. From age eighteen on, she could vividly remember what she did every waking hour of each birthday. And the event to beat all events was around the corner. This required her special touch. It was to be Pamela’s honeymoon with her soon to be hubby, Damien. This had to be grand. This had to unforgettable.

And Bali it had to be. Her fantasy for honeymooning. She wanted the whole experience captured. She would hire hotshot photographer Victor Braganza, who was the last word in pre-wedding and wedding shoots. He was a one-man army who combined still photography, video coverage and aerial shots via drones to deliver stunning memories of each event.

“No,” said Victor. “I don’t do honeymoons.”

“Please, Victor,” pleaded Pamela. “Think of it as a paid vacation. You will travel business class and stay in the same fine hotels as us. I will make it very much worth your while. You can bring your wife or girlfriend along if you wish.”

Feigning innocence, she hitched her short skirt dangerously high to reveal her tanned thighs.

“I like to travel alone for work. No distractions. But I will do it for you,” Victor agreed finally.

Bali was everything Pamela had imagined and more. They got some wonderful pictures and footage in idyllic locales. Victor stayed at a discreet distance and got some outstanding candid pictures.

But the sex did not measure up to Pamela’s expectations. They fucked as soon as they checked into their honeymoon hotel. But there were no fireworks. Maybe the enormity of the occasion had overwhelmed Damien. Maybe Pamela was expecting too much. In the next few days, they had an average of two bouts of sex a day. Damien was appropriately fawning and touchy-feely and had a lot of plans for island activities. Yet this did not match Pamela’s idea of a honeymoon. This was their fucking honeymoon! They should be fucking day and night like rabbits!

Pamela resolved she would have memorable sex on her honeymoon. With or without Damien.

Early on the fifth morning, Victor was going through the pictures and videos to select and edit the best frames. He felt his cock bob up under his robe. Fuck, Pamela was scorching hot! She just oozed sexuality.

There was a light knock at the door. Victor went to open it in his robe with nothing on underneath.

“Hi, may I come in?” said Pamela cheerily as she entered his suite. She was wearing a tight T shirt without a bra and tiny shorts. “What were you doing?”

“I was doing some editing work,” said Victor uncomfortably.

“You don’t seem too glad to see me,” pouted Pamela. “But Junior seems to be delighted!” she added, reaching underneath his robe and grabbing his turgid cock.

“What a darling,” she cooed, stroking the head, and kissing it softly as if she were kissing a pet, before engulfing it in her warm mouth. Then followed a series of oral manoeuvres that almost brought him to the brink.

“Hey babe, I want to taste you,” he said huskily.

He went down on her, lapping at her soaking wet pussy. Her juices were a heady cocktail of sweet, sour and salty.

“What concoction do you have down there?” he asked as he came up for breath.

“Those are my aroused juices mixed with my husband’s cum. We fucked just half an hour back. Come into me,” she commanded.

He eased his huge cock ever so slowly into her streaming pussy. After inserting it to the hilt, he became completely stationary.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked desperately, after what seemed like an eternity.

“Do you secrete some glue in there? I can’t move!” he said in mock consternation. He allowed his shaft to impale her pussy for a few more agonising minutes.

“Fuck me, Victor!” shouted Pamela. “Please fucking move it, man!”

Victor withdrew his cock fully and then started grinding Pamela with slow, measured strokes, teasing her, tantalizing her.

“Victor, please fuck me harder!” pleaded Pamela.

Victor removed his cock from her quivering pussy and announced, “Mr Dick is upset with your tone. He desires a break. Any resistance to his pace and methods will result in immediate termination of the procedure. Say sorry!”

“Sorry, Mr Dick,” said Pamela meekly.

Victor then changed his position, so he was on his side and his body was at a 90 degrees angle to hers. He entered her with an abruptness that caught her unawares. This left his hands free to explore her voluptuous body. Maintaining his slow unrelenting entry and exit in and out of her pussy, he teased her nipples till they ached. Then he moved his index finger onto her clitoris, gently stroking it. At this point, his cock was stationary inside her. He built up the rhythm on her clit, bringing her close to orgasm. Then he stopped abruptly. He repeated this several times.

Finally, when she couldn’t take it any longer, she shouted loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, “Fuck me, you dick!”

Victor now rammed into her hard and fast, with his finger still massaging her clit. He finally released himself into her, triggering off an intense orgasm. She was wailing like a banshee. It was the noisiest orgasm he had witnessed. This had been a hell of an experience. But something didn’t feel right.

The day went on with some beach activities and candid shots.

Early next morning, Desiree walked past the plush lobby of the honeymoon hotel, swaying her hips in a tight pair of hot pants, her ripe butt bouncing seductively. She greeted the concierge Henri convivially. His eyes followed her jutting round globes.

“Enjoying the view, Henri?” called back Desiree.

“I am a jackass if I don’t jack off over that ass,” winked Henri.

Desiree knocked gently on the honeymoon couple’s door and without waiting for a response, strolled in. Damien was lying in bed, naked under the sheets. “What on earth!” he exclaimed, shocked at the sight of this silky-haired apparition in short T-shirt and tight hot pants.

“Sir, please don’t be alarmed. A Ms Pamela has sent me here. She said something about making this trip extra special for you,” Desiree explained. “I don’t know about the trip, but you sure are special, Sir.”

His erect cock had formed a tent underneath the thin sheet. He looked at the spectacle in astonishment. A few minutes back he had fucked Pamela. He had not even washed their mixed secretions off his cock. He never knew he had such a short refractory period. He had clearly underestimated his own libido. Pamela really was an extraordinary woman!

Desiree took over in earnest, fellating, straddling, riding and fast fucking Damien as he lay passively on his back. “Let me entertain you, Sir,” she purred. “You just lie there and enjoy the ride.”

After her tryst with Damien, Desiree left the room. She knocked on Victor’s door, and he promptly handed her three crisp hundred dollar bills.

He walked over to Pamela, who was posing for some solo aesthetic nude pictures for her personal collection.

“Who was it?” enquired Pamela.

“Nobody important, my Queenie,” smiled Victor. “It was just payback time.”

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