Weekend in Paradise: Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Mia Madison

  “Yes, whatever you dreamt about, it certainly made me jealous.” He smirked as he ate a fresh muffin from the breakfast tray.

  “Oh, Lord. I’m sorry.” I nearly died of embarrassment to hear this about me. I could only imagine how I sounded.

  “You moan, I snore. We’re even.” He waved it off so casually. “Have you determined whether or not you want to attend our couples massage today or tomorrow?”

  “Today.” I stretched my limbs in every direction, fluttering my legs lightly as I prepared to sit up and eat.

  “Very well.” He nodded. “Let’s eat, and then find your sister.”

  Seven

  Hunter

  Words couldn’t describe how serene this girl looked when she was sleeping. I hadn’t even gotten to my bed before she went into slumber for the night. I admit, I was just as exhausted too, so I couldn’t say anything about her nodding off so quickly.

  I’m not sure when the cuddling part happened. I wanted to say I did it after I was asleep, but I wasn’t sure. I was used to cuddling against my ex. Even though I was a man’s man, I enjoyed the affection of the woman I loved quite a bit.

  Chanel wasn’t Samantha. She was better than Samantha. My ex was good, until she left me and revealed herself a cheater.

  Chanel’s soul was rooted in loyalty. This girl was exquisite, yet she was hidden from the world like a rare jewel, all because of her devotion to her mother and her education.

  Do you know how hard it is to find a woman with strong values and immense beauty? Very hard, especially when women interpret you as an ATM with a big dick.

  We enjoyed breakfast with Rose and Axel, who were exceptionally refreshed and laid-back. Then we took a late morning/early afternoon trip to the beach. It wasn’t a far walk, but for a small fee, we could get there even quicker.

  My mouth watered looking at Chanel in her bikini. It was a pretty aqua and yellow color, with gold side straps. Thank God for sunglasses. Her breasts were fully out on display, and I’d never seen such a charming pair in my life.

  And her hair? Man, I loved women with long hair, but hers was long, thick, wavy… It took so well to the hot, balmy Caribbean. She let it flow also. No hours of tinkering with a flat iron or fighting against the humidity. Just a little gel to allow it to sculpt as it air-dried.

  And oh man, that natural tan had only intensified since we landed. She looked like a delicious island treat. I wanted to sink my teeth in her so bad. She was telling me about wild dreams? The entire night I was next to her, I dreamed of flipping her every which way but away from me.

  We lay casually next to Rose and Axel on the beach. I caught other men looking at her, and became pissed. They had their own women, why look at mine?

  Well, she wasn’t mine. But she was mine for the next 48 hours. I hired her after all.

  Several locals came up with cameras, offering to take our pictures. At first, we resisted, but after repeated attempts, we broke down and posed for a picture.

  As her small frame curled up against mine, I got flashbacks of holding her. Inhaling her sweet coconut oil and strawberry scent as I heard her soft moans and felt her warm body against mine felt amazing. I was turned on, yet completely comfortable. Like we fit perfectly.

  The photographer showed us our photo and my dick flopped lightly. Her gorgeousness translated well on camera, especially those pouty lips and perfect tits. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself out here, but I had been fighting my erection since I’d been here and I needed to release the energy I felt.

  “I’ve got a headache,” I announced. I handed Chanel some money. “I’m going to the room to lay down and take something.”

  “I’ll go with you?” She volunteered.

  She pouted slightly, her grey eyes pleading me not to go. I leaned forward and kissed her nose, a moment of cute adoration, and told her to behave.

  “No, no, love. Enjoy the beach. Remember to be back by 12 PM for lunch, and then our couples’ massage.”

  She looked sad to let me leave, but nodded in understanding.

  I made my way back to the resort in just enough time to keep my dick from bursting through my shorts. My face was casual, but there was a raging erection threatening to rise, and I needed to take care of it immediately.

  I wanted Chanel. I wanted to be inside Chanel, and there was nothing friendly, polite, or whimsically acceptable about that.

  Thoughts of Chanel consumed me the whole ride back to Paradise Isle. My dick was so hard it hurt.

  I was just in front of my door when I heard a soft voice call out, “Good afternoon, Hunter!”

  I turned to see Yelena, the beautiful and curvy front desk agent walking towards me. Her high ponytail had transformed into a long wavy style, but her cheekbones and slanted eyes were still the main focus of her appearance.

  “How are you, today?” She asked. Her hips swayed seductively as she moved toward me. Any other time, I would have licked my lips, because she was obviously digging me, and I wouldn’t have minded a taste. But I hadn’t been able to think straight since my breakup, and if anyone had my full attention, it was my beauty on the beach.

  “I’m great. Thanks.” I pushed open my door and she stepped into the doorway.

  “You know Hunter, your pleasure is my priority. It’s my job to make sure you’re satisfied with your stay.” Her eyes unwrapped me from head to toe, pausing at my hard dick as she said, “I’m here to provide for you in any way you need. No request is too… much.”

  The question lingered in her eyes. She wanted to know if she could satisfy me in ways she assumed Chanel wouldn’t.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.” I didn’t want to wink at her, because it sent the wrong message. But I needed to give her something to go away, because it damn sure wouldn’t have been money - or my dick.

  The tempt of forbidden fruit was real, but Jamaican honey wasn’t on the menu. Chanel was at the top of the food chain.

  I closed the door with just enough composure to prevent making a scene and collapsed against it.

  Groaning with need, I tugged down my shorts, freeing my 9.5 inch cock. Nearly every vein on my shaft was fully defined. It was obvious that I was ready to fucking explode.

  Stroking my hard shaft, I thought about Chanel in her designer aqua and yellow bikini with the gold straps. I thought about those huge tan tits of hers, oiled up to suck in the sun’s rays and deepen that complexion.

  I imagined her peeling her top off for me, teasing me with her fat tits, covering the areola and nipples and making me beg to see them. She made me kneel and tell her how badly I wanted her, then pushed her pussy onto my nose so I could smell the natural desire she had for me.

  When I pulled her bikini bottom to the side and began tasting that pussy, she lost control and freed those gorgeous, plump tits for my viewing pleasure. I imagined her nipples, pretty and sweet, like strawberry Starbursts.

  When she came in my mouth, she held my head down while she collapsed against the wall, screaming my name loud enough for Yelena to know who I belonged to.

  “Fuuuuuuuuck,” I grunted. Jets of hot, white cum surged from my balls, up my shaft, and spurted from the head of my helmet cock, spewing my dirty, filthy, sexy thoughts everywhere. My hand was covered with seed. So was the floor.

  Fuck it. I needed a shower anyway.

  Eight

  Chanel

  Today was the most wonderful, romantic, beauteous day ever!

  I know, I know. I shouldn’t be so hyped up about anything that’s happened on this trip. It was for business purposes only. But it’s hard to remain professional when you’ve got someone lighting a wildfire beneath your surface.

  After leaving me on the beach for his headache, Axel, Rose, and I relaxed for a while longer. I loved the way my skin drank in the sun. My tan was the best I’d ever seen it. Rose’s as well. Poor Axel! The guy’s ruddy skin couldn’t get a break. He was covered in sunblock from head to toe, yet he still looked like a tomato by the time we left.<
br />
  “Damn sun,” he muttered.

  I think Rose got him back to their room in time to give him a cooling bath and prevent sunburn.

  I stopped by the room to shower and change, and then Hunter and I held hands casually as we went to get a bite to eat. We passed Yelena on the way to the dining room, and he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, love.” He said, and the words sent a deep blush in my soul. My nipples hardened again, and I giggled.

  Our couples massage followed after lunch. It was entirely wonderful. There was a little shyness about undressing in front of him, and remaining that way, simply covered by a towel for the women, but I was emboldened by the idea of total relaxation.

  When the therapist touched my skin, I melted, breathing sighs and grunts of relief as she discovered and dismantled tension knots all over my body.

  “You may feel really tired after this,” she said. “Drink a lot of water, and be sure to take a nice afternoon nap to recover and flush the toxins out.”

  That night, there was a couples dance at the resort club. I wasn’t much of a partier, but Hunter convinced me to go with him.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of drinks and dancing, is there?” He asked. “Besides, I promise to be on my best behavior. If I get too close you can push me back.”

  I blushed. I was getting more and more comfortable with him. Holding hands and pet kisses on the cheek, the nose, and the forehead were actually feeding my feminine essence, making me feel cherished and womanly.

  The protective way he grabbed my hand and led me where he wanted us to go also felt so good at this point. I looked forward to entering or leaving somewhere, because I knew it meant he would be able to touch me.

  This was such a forbidden situation… and I was getting wetter and wetter with every moment next to him.

  Ed Sheeran’s “The Shape of You” began to play on the dance floor. The DJ pushed the tempo up a little, and we picked up the pace to move with each other.

  “Come and put that body on me,” Hunter sang to me.

  He sang the lyrics to me. “I’m in love with your body…”

  Maybe it was a combination of several Jamaican cocktails, the chemistry, and the connection we were building, but this song felt like it was written for us.

  I was falling for Hunter, he was wrapped around me, and we were in the sexiest resort on Earth. Everyone around us was moving, coupled up with blissful energy. Everyone else was touching, kissing, loving, and enjoying each other. Why couldn’t we just fall into the moment and do the same?

  I pushed my hips back, rubbing my ass from side to side on Hunter’s cock. It was thick, at least from what I could tell, and it was totally ready for me. I’m sure I could handle it, even though it had been a while, because I could feel the wetness pooling between my thighs, which were loose and limber thanks to that massage we had earlier.

  “Baby,” I said, feeling the liquid courage in my veins. “Let’s go back to the room.”

  I looked at him, and pursed my lips. He leaned down, offering me his cheek, but I adjusted his chin and went straight for his lips.

  Our first kiss. On the dance floor. To Edward Sheehan, as he spelled out exactly how I felt. Nothing could describe the magnificence.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, and felt his arms grab my hips. One hand slid down as he groaned into my mouth. As we merged our bodies, passionately pushing skin against skin, I realized a feeling I hadn’t felt ever. A feeling of completeness.

  Our kiss was long, ravenous, slow, and erotic enough to make me hysterical. When we pulled away, my eyes were no longer innocent. They were intentional, lustful, and desirous.

  I wanted Hunter to go back to the room with me. I wanted him to peel off this thin ass halter dress and this backless bra. I wanted to pour honey on these luscious nipples of mine, awakened by his presence, and experience him nurse them to life while wet magic poured between my thighs.

  I wanted him to live up to his name, hunt me like one of his prey, and claim my body. It would make this trip perfect, memorable, and irrevocably mesmerizing for the rest of my life.

  Once I got back home, there’d be nothing to hold on to but fake kisses and cuddles. I wanted to give myself to him, I wanted to make him feel my need for something wild, different, erotic… and completely unforgettable.

  But my desires weren’t his.

  As the music changed, and something more erotic and sensuous came on, we slowed down. He pulled me back into a dance, and looked into my eyes, his smile flirty and adorable.

  “Baby…?” I pushed, wanting nothing more to do with this dance floor, and these people who didn’t need to see my lust.

  “Love,” he whispered in my ear as we danced slow under the moonlight and stars. “You’re sweet as sugar from your earlobes to your ass crack.”

  I moaned.

  Gotdamn, gotdamn, gotdamn, gotdamn!

  “But you and I already know this wouldn’t be good. We can’t go past the boundaries we’ve set for this weekend. I want you… trust me I do.”

  “We’re in Jamaica, honey. Jamaica! Everyone around is giving in to their desires. We’re grown. I’m grown…”

  He looked at me, and I could see the desire and fear in his eyes. “Darling, I stroked the shit out of my cock this morning when I left you at the beach. I have been imagining you in a million different positions and taking my cock in a million different ways. But I made a promise to your sister, and to my best friend. I would protect you, treat you like a lady, and give you the relaxation you needed. I want you… I do, but I can’t take advantage of you in this state.”

  The boiling sting of rejection could barely be assuaged by the soft way he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. By that time I’d stopped dancing and simply looked at the floor.

  He held my hand out, offering to continue dancing, and I held mine back and shook my head.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” I said with disappointment. “See you back at the room.”

  I walked off without looking back.

  If all he would do is dance, grind, flirt, rub, and tease up on me - knowing I wanted more than he would ever offer - I needed to accept the tough truth now and adjust immediately.

  We only had 24 hours left, one more day, and after that we’d be free. Maybe I could call my ex when I got back?

  I’m not going back to that room anytime soon. Maybe after he falls asleep of course, I thought.

  There was no way in hell I would face him again tonight if I didn’t have to.

  Nine

  Hunter

  The loud crash as the door slammed woke me up. I thought I was just dreaming of a truck slamming into me when I heard another boom that pulled me out of my slumber.

  “Ouch!” The harsh whisper revealed it to be Chanel.

  “Chanel,” I sat up and turned on the lamp. “What the hell is going on? Are you drunk?”

  Chanel’s smokey grey eyes glittered with inebriation and naughtiness. “I didn’t have too much to drink. I only had three, four, six shots and a couple of Maaaaaaiiii Taaaaaiiiis.”

  She giggled into a fit of laughter, lost her balance, and fell on the couch, narrowly missing the sharp corner of the nightstand.

  I couldn’t believe she’d done this. She’d actually stormed away from me on the dance floor, and coped with her frustration the wrong way.

  “Six shots!?” That terrified me. Thank God she made it back to the room. “You’re a sloppy drunken mess. Come on, young lady.”

  She’d knocked over a few things on the way to the bed, but nothing was badly damaged, just messy. I had to get her sobered up, maybe with a cold shower, before things got out of control. If Axel or Rose found out about this… shit.

  Have you ever tried to get a drunk, horny co-ed to shower? Chanel was supposed to be responsible for an 21 year old girl, but apparently she’d gotten carried away.

  “Love, we’ve got to get you into the shower,” I sa
id. “Your clothes are soiled, and you’re sticky. You’re not getting in bed like this.”

  I helped her to the shower. On the way, she whined and pouted, and even asked for more alcohol. My ears absolutely burned when she begged to be a good girl if I would give her another drink. There was a salacious, kinky tone to it that I could not ignore.

  “Absolutely not, young love.” I said. This was not the peaceful Saturday night I had planned.

  “Please, Daddyyyyyyyy.” She moaned to me in a bratty little tone that dropped low enough to stir my cock.

  “No.”

  My mind begged for her to stop, but my soul craved for her to continue begging in that cock-stirring tone.

  I couldn’t believe her, but I couldn’t believe myself either. She never called me daddy, and while she was gorgeous, she was off limits.

  I won’t say I never harbored thoughts of fucking her. I spent a good amount of time rubbing one out the moment I got back to the room when it was firmly decided we couldn’t cross those boundaries. I’ll also say I indulged in those thoughts whenever she’d left the room to go explore the white sand beach or drink at the bar alone.

  But there was something about her desperate little beg, the sexy way her tits bounced, and the lightness of being in her giggle that made my 35 year old cock curious to explore every inch of her. The wanton, free vibes she gave off, coupled with the way her eyes narrowed intoxicated me.

  Stop it Hunter. This is your best friend’s sister in law. Or something like that. She’s had too much to drink, and you’re too intelligent to let the caveman inside you take over.

  I escorted her into the bathroom, started her shower for her, and brought her some pajamas before getting back to bed. I avoided looking at her because I didn’t need to be tempted in her state of undressed vulnerability.

  “Thank yooou.”

  “You’re welcome.”