by Hazel Parker
“Wow,” he said, eventually.
“I know,” I breathed.
“I’m just glad we lived,” he chuckled.
“What do you mean?”
“Hey,” he grinned, “it’s an old jeep. I’ve been meaning to check the brakes.”
“You mean we could have gone over?” I cried, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Hey, you asked if I was risking my life with you. Now you know.”
I whacked him on the chest.
Chapter Seven
Marcus drove me to the very edge of the island for dinner. Carlito’s was a long-established bar and restaurant in the southeast corner of Aruba. Located in the local and distinctly non-tourist-friendly district of San Nicolas, the polar opposite of the glitzy Palm Beach area that our resort was in, the white, two-story building looked a little grubby and run down from the outside. However, inside it was a virtual cornucopia of trinkets, pop culture memorabilia, knick-knacks, and junk. It looked amazing to me; earthy and genuine, and Marcus seemed to know most of the staff and patrons. A tall Jamaican man was introduced to me as Bruce, the evening manager, and he showed us to a table in a quiet, intimate spot near the back. I picked up a menu, only for Marcus to snatch it off me.
“That’s just for the tourists,” he insisted. “Bruce is already bringing us our food.”
Along with two iced Maltas, which was finally explained to me as a popular Caribbean soft drink that was basically beer before the sugar had fermented into alcohol, Bruce brought us coconut shrimp to start. I hadn’t realized how ravenous I was and, despite trying to be dainty, I tore into the dish.
“I guess orgasms give you an appetite,” Marcus teased me and, before long, Bruce was setting down the main course.
Bakiou seemed to be cod fish fried with rice and served with sweet red kidney beans, steamed sweet potato, and fried plantains. It was like nothing I’d tried before, but delicious and exactly what I needed, without even knowing it.
“Oh, my God,” I giggled, covering my mouth as I was still chewing. “I’m sorry for being such a glutton. I had no idea I was so hungry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he smiled. “It’s good to know I brought you to the right place.”
“You did.” I said, looking around. “This place is amazing. Do you come here a lot?”
“A couple of times a week, maybe.” he smiled. “Are you okay with that soda, or would you like something stronger?”
I thought back to all the chances I’d never dared to take in my life. “Sure, if you want to make me something.”
Marcus took my hand and led me to the bar. The men who were sitting around it parted so I could sit. I felt eyes moving over my body but decided to take it as a compliment for once, rather than getting creeped out. Anyway, Marcus had made me feel so attractive, surely it wasn’t just him that could see it. And, if I felt threatened, the fact that Marcus was at least twice the size of the biggest local, and a veteran marine, made me feel safe. They all seemed to defer to him respectfully though, as he stepped behind the bar.
“Here’s a little trick I picked up in New Zealand, back in the Nineties,” he said, shaking hands with and hugging the barman, who I later discovered was called Lars, a Dutch native. Marcus nodded over to someone behind me. I couldn’t believe what I saw as The Beatles song Twist and Shout suddenly erupted from the jukebox, causing Marcus and Lars to start singing and dancing about like Tom Cruise and Bryan Brown, tossing bottles to each other, spinning mixers, and throwing ice everywhere. It was so fun and impressive to watch, that I didn’t even care that I kept getting splashed by flying liquor. It was both exciting and hilarious; them smiling and throwing things to each other, bumping into one another, Lars covering for Marcus as he dropped and smashed a bottle of vodka, to an excited cheer from the audience. In the end, a sweating Marcus deposited a tall, dripping Sex on the Beach in front of me, along with one for himself.
“The lady’s favorite,” he announced, to a cheer from the gathered crowd. I blushed as I picked it up, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Marcus clinked our drinks together as he picked his up and began drinking it. I copied him, worrying as he drank that he was going to down it in one go. He did, and I felt compelled to match him, to an excited round of applause. Two, maybe three seconds past and the buzz hit me, making me a little dizzy and very, very happy. Marcus, far less flamboyantly, made me another.
I managed to nurse my next drink, as I was drawn into the crowd of locals as Marcus introduced me around. For the next hour, I was able to cut loose, laughing and chatting with all these new and exciting people. I couldn’t remember the last time I had this much fun and, at the center of it all, was Marcus, making me laugh, including me in everything, and just looking so, so alluring. He would whisper something in my ear every so often, about how much fun I was being or how hot I looked, making me feel so sexy, until, as it got a little later he took me quietly to the side.
“I hope you’ve had a good time,” he said with a smile.
“I’ve had a great time.” I was still laughing but my heart began to sink as it looked like he was going to tell me it had to end.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “But you’re just so damn desirable, my mouth is practically watering at the thought of enjoying you again.”
I felt that throbbing wetness between my thighs once more. “You’re not going to suggest we go do it behind the kitchens, are you?” I smiled, half expecting him to do just that.
“It’s tempting,” he grinned, “But there’s a room we can use upstairs.”
I was about to say no but stopped myself. Don’t stop taking chances now, I screamed at myself. I locked eyes with him, and then pulled his mouth down onto mine. I broke off the kiss to breathe “Lead the way,” into his ear.
The journey upstairs, at least, gave me time to wonder how and why he knew there was a room we could use upstairs. Creeping up the back staircase, the colorful walls soon became peeling white paint and the air stifling, since we were away from the fans and the air-conditioning of the bar area. I decided, at the door, that I didn’t want to know how he knew about it. It was little more than a chair, a small dresser, and a mattress on the floor, but it was clean. I walked in and faced away from him, looking out of the window into the twilight evening.
Marcus locked the door and switched on the ceiling fan, giving us some much-needed air. I heard him turn back just in time to see me lifting my dress up over my head, as I stared out toward the ocean. He got within arms distance before I turned and held out a hand to stop him. He gazed at my uncovered, full and firm breasts, and I stared back at him, an anxious look on my face. As free as I wanted to be, I still couldn’t feel comfortable stripping off for someone.
“You still don’t believe I think you’re beautiful?” he whispered, reading my mind.
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. He gently took my hand, inched forward, and put it against his crotch. I resisted the urge to pull away, and felt his hardening member twitch inside his jeans. I took a breath, and gently stooped to peel off my panties with my other hand. Marcus gasped, his eyes widening as I finally stood naked before him, and I smiled at his reaction. My head was a little fuzzy from the drink, but I felt good. I felt confident.
Here goes nothing, I thought to myself, before grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling it apart. He responded by closing the last distance between us and kissing me, hard. Our lips met, almost painfully, with Marcus pushing his tongue into my open mouth and gently cupping my face with his hands. I met his tongue with mine. His taste was soft, velvety and spiced with fruit and vodka. It was almost intoxicating and I felt my knees go weak. I slid my fingers down his rock-hard abs until I could hook them under the waist of his pants. Marcus let his hands travel lower down my body, caressing the soft skin of my breasts and tracing his thumbs across my hardening nipples. I started pulling, trying to yank down his pants.
“Damn things,” I muttered, pulling my mouth from his. Marcus smi
led and undid his own belt. I gave another yank and his jeans dropped to the floor. I smiled, biting my lip softly as he pushed down his underwear, exposing himself; long, hard and pointing straight at me.
I gasped. Now I could see him too, I wanted him so badly I could feel that familiar, throbbing ache in my deepest parts. I stepped back and sat myself on the edge of the dresser. As Marcus approached, I wrapped my legs around him again, hooking my feet together behind his butt, and pulled him urgently to me. We both let out a gasp as the soft folds of my already wet hole immediately caressed the throbbing tip of his stiff cock.
“Wait,” he breathed, a sudden twitch sending another thrill through me. He kissed his way down my neck, over my breast, flicking my nipple with his tongue. I gasped as my clit throbbed in response. “I want to taste you,” he murmured, looking back up at me briefly. He continued down, kissing his way across my taut stomach, sending small shivers across my skin. I leaned back as he gently pushed my legs wider apart. I could feel him staring at my wet, exposed pussy and felt the heat creeping into my cheeks. I was always mortified when my ex-husband would try and look at me. “You are so beautiful,” soothed Marcus, sensing my unease.
I felt him move in slowly, like he was kissing my mouth. I felt his soft lips gently parting so his tongue could slip delicately inside. I quivered, a long sigh escaping my mouth. His hand softly caressed my stomach, my thighs, my breasts, as I could feel him licking the thick nectar from my willing hole. My skin tingled at his light touches until, as the velvet tip of his tongue stroked across my clit, a sudden surge of pleasure passed through me, like a wave of electricity, and I let out a deep moan.
Marcus went to work on that tiny nub, with each flick of his tongue forcing out another moan and sending another ecstatic shock through me. Louder and louder cries began to escape from my open mouth as Marcus increased his pressure and speed, responding to my writhing by gently sliding a finger into me. I felt my climax approaching and was powerless to stop my hips from flexing. His hands began forcefully squeezing my tits and mine went to his head, pushing his mouth against my desperate pussy even harder. My heart racing, my breathing out of control, his tongue was driving me wild and, before I realized, I was bucking against him and screaming as my loins exploded in orgasm.
“I’m dying to be inside you,” Marcus whispered as I moaned and thrashed in front of him. And, before I could respond, he stood up, pulled me up, cupped my ass on the dresser, forced his tongue back into my mouth, and rammed himself inside me, hard. I yelped in pleasure, my mouth full, and had to break off our kiss again to yell, ‘Oh my God!’
Marcus was totally buried in me, right to the hilt, and I felt so full that every slight twitch of him inside me seemed to extend the aftershocks of my climax. After a moment, which felt like an ice age to me, he pulled out almost all the way. He paused with only a fraction of his thick rod brushing against my moist entrance, making me shiver, before plunging deep inside me again. I could do nothing to stop myself shouting in ecstasy as I locked my legs behind him once more and pulled him into me even harder. I raked his neck with my nails, cried out, and bit into his shoulder as he hammered at me, faster and faster.
‘I just want to keep fucking you, keep fucking your hot pussy, every minute of the day,’ he murmured breathlessly, still slamming himself into me. I could feel my orgasm still there, threatening to drown me in pleasure once more, and getting closer with every thrust of his hips
Marcus’s great strength lifted my slim frame up off the dresser. Nothing held me up but him. I screamed as he drove me down on his huge spear. He ground himself against me with all his might, reaching as deep inside as he could go, until I cried out again and began suddenly shuddering. Wave after wave of crashing ecstasy pounded through my body, my legs went into spasm, my nails clawed at his neck and I cried out until I was hoarse.
Marcus lost his strength and collapsed back onto the mattress. My body out of control, acting on only instinct and lust, I straddled him and forced my pussy hard down on him as he lay there, my nerves and senses still exploding with rapture, until he gasped and finally let loose inside me. Hot, white seed pumped from his engorged cock and showed no sign of stopping. Holding him tightly in my trembling sheath, I began to wonder how much I could take but, as we started to come back to our senses, his violent blasts of cum inside me died away.
A car backing away and some angry noises forced my eyes open. I didn’t remember leaving the window of my hotel room open. The air-conditioner usually blew far too cold. Despite that, I felt much hotter than I’d felt waking up before, and my mouth was dry. As a low light crept slowly across the room, the peeling paint on the walls and the low angle I was looking up from seemed more and more unfamiliar. I tried to move from laying on my side, only to find something warm and heavy holding me down. A sudden panic gripped me as I found it was an arm, and then I realized I was still in the room above Carlito’s, and it was Marcus spooning me.
“Wake up! Wake up!” I demanded. “Get off me!” I began thumping his meaty chest as best I could to wake him. He eventually groaned.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked sleepily.
“Get up, get off me!” I kept pushing him. “I can’t believe you let me fall asleep! I need to get back to my room, now!” I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but actually sleeping in a bed with Marcus felt so wrong. I certainly didn’t want the girls to find out I’d spent the whole night with him. If we actually sleep together, spoon and cuddle, is it still just a casual fling? I asked myself anxiously. I forced my way off the basic bed and threw the sun dress over my head before turning back around to him.
“Hey! Hey!” he called to me. “It’s okay. Look at the time; it’s not even five-thirty.”
I stopped frantically searching for my underwear and looked at him. His floppy hair was disheveled, his eyes were puffy from sleep. The sheet had slid down as he propped himself up on his elbow, displaying his muscled torso, all the way down to the very bottom of his rock-hard abs, where the short dark hairs that nestled in between his thighs began. I felt my mouth fall open a little as I stared. “Really?” I managed to mumble.
“Really,” he confirmed, clearly unaware of how beautiful he looked. “Come on,” he got up, “Let me go get us some coffee, then I’ll drive you back to the resort. No one’s gonna see you this early.”
I was too busy watching his naked butt as he searched for his jeans to really listen to what he said, so I just agreed. He disappeared downstairs and I found my underwear and shoes, before sitting down in the wooden chair that faced the window. Moments later, Marcus was back, holding two steaming cups. “Are you gonna move so I can sit?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Well, I can sit on your knee if you like,” he grinned. “But I think it might be better this way.”
I smiled up at him and stood. The chair creaked a little as Marcus sat down, then just a fraction more as I perched myself on him. He slipped an arm around my waist to keep me steady, and we clinked our cups together. I took a sip. It wasn’t bad. I didn’t want to seem rude, or make him feel like I was just using him, however I was still anxious to get home. I was about to politely remind him when I saw the sight out of the window.
“Oh, my God, look at that,” I said as I sighed in awe. The sun was slowly pushing its way up out of the ocean’s inky depths, illuminating the waters closest to it with orange fire. I was sure I could see dazzling beams of light shooting off the great globe as it rose, each moment turning more and more waves into glittering diamonds that spread out before it like an unrolling carpet. It was the most breathtaking sunrise I’d ever seen. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You’re so beautiful,” whispered Marcus. I turned my face to him, meeting his eyes. A half smile on his face, he gently leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t the usual, passionate, almost violent kisses we normally shared. It was soft, sensual, and perfect. It forced the breath from my lungs and my heart to skip a beat.
“Wow,�
�� was all I could moan, our foreheads still pressed together. “Please, take me back to the resort before we can’t control ourselves anymore.”
“Do I have to?
“Yes.”
It seemed as though we were at the exact opposite end of the island from the resort, as it took nearly forty minutes to get back, traversing many of Aruba’s districts; from simple, unkempt houses and businesses, to the capital city, all deserted save for a few hardcore party-goers stumbling along the streets in tiny, tiny skirts and dresses, and into the manicured, freshly painted resort area. The early morning clubbers waved at the jeep as it drove by, and I waved back. I had on my sunglasses, was holding my big hat to my head to keep it from blowing off, and felt like some carefree European heiress, trying to get home before dawn was completely upon me. We got back to the lobby and Marcus killed the engine.
“Everything okay?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I was just wondering how many more nights are you here?”
I did a little mental arithmetic. “Two,” I said, my heart sinking as the word came out. Only two more nights with him?
Marcus looked a little sad as well. “Hey, we both knew we had an expiration date, right?” I nodded gently in agreement. He continued, “I have a meeting tonight but do you think you could stop by the bar?”
“I guess,” I told him. Hanging out with my friends around that cool little bar didn’t sound like a bad idea, especially if I could spend my time looking at Marcus, too.
“Great,” he smiled, stepping out to give me a hand climbing out of the jeep. Without letting go of me, he leaned in and gave me a proper kiss goodbye. I felt his hand running over the smooth mound of my butt as we kissed, sending images of the sex we’d had flashing through my brain. I felt myself starting to get wet, so I broke off and trotted quickly back into the hotel.
