The Cruise - Massage

After dating Franco for the past couple years, off and on, I realize that something is odd. What I mean is Franco is so trusting of people, namely his three friends. Franco and I once went on a cruise with his friend, Donovan. He was from Dominiqa. Carmel complexed, slender build, great white teeth, and money! Donovan always had on his arm, so tender roni looking chic, and probably have his age. Anyway, we always had a good time because Dononvan was always so hyper.

I found a note in his suitcase, looked like it was there for some time. A little dated and possible a luggage he doesn't take with him too often. He was showering and I glanced at it. It was a promissory note to an unknown person and Franco's signature about $10,000. It was dated mid-last year. So I put it back the way I found it and got out the rest of our things.

We all met up on the top floor of the ship to a private spa just for the four of us.
The room was set up so that each couple could be privately alongside the next couple. They accomplished this by placing a bamboo room divider in this one large room that looked like a loft. It was so cool, romantic Caribbean. Each massage therapist, four total! Gave us a little white business card which explained to each of us the services we would receive and that the owner's specific purpose was that all guest are to relax and live in the moment. Some quote by NINA BLUE. And the last line red, no talking will be done, moaning only, to release any tension that the massage therapist (MT) gave a right touch to.

My MT was a tall, dark haired white man with strong features. I couldn't tell what his nationality was, and especially not hearing his voice. So anyway he was warm and his touch send electrical shocks and waves through my body. As he touched the temple of my head, he poured hot oil down my chakra and in a matter of minutes, I closed my eyes. I was completely closed me off in another area from Franco, who was being handled by a petite female with perky tits.

My MT moved on to my shoulders, I was lying on my back on the table. I was totally naked lying underneath cream silky linen fabric. My nipples were erect showing right through the covering. I didn't care. I kept breathing like we were taught in the pilates class earlier. He massaged the front and back of my body, never touching my midsection (ass & pussy).

The message had my breathing in sort of a rhythm that seemed to catch the sound of the ocean, playing in the background. I opened my eyes and pointed my MT's hand toward my breast. Giving permission for him to massage them, I enjoyed pleasurable moments of his fingers moving in small circles, slowly around the darkest area of my breast, only to lead his tongue filled with ice around my nipples. Mmmmm is my first response, because my breast are so sensitive and had been so neglected by Franco. I moaned again, this time, he is standing overtop of me, never once laying on top of me. He made love to my breast, each for 15 minutes, and my breast stand erect like a ready dick!

Although when he finished with me, I stood up, only to fall down and I making a slight noise. My MT grabbed me quickly right before I hit the floor. He then helped me us, without saying a word. As I stood up, he held me with his hands grabbing my waist as if we are doing Quadrille dance. I am trying to hold the covering up to keep my body covered, but my breast continue to hang out. I quickly turn around to look at the massage table, and see nothing but a large circle of wetness. Oppps, thats the area where my ass and pussy were. I was embarrassed, I had cum all over his table from his touching me.

#43 at Swingers Club

I attended my first swinger's club lastnite. Let me tell you, it was an experience.
We all had to come dressed in feather eye masks, sort of those you would see during the Mardi Gras.

I come in tote with my Music CD collection. You see I had just received a stash of soul music from the mainland.

I sent a text message to the guy with #43 on his sleeve. You see this place had a no-talk policy once you entered the suite. Demman supplied each visitor with this palm devices so that you can communicate with the person(s) of your interest. Each person was also assigned a patch to put on your sleeve to display your contact number. Guess what? Mine was "69" So, as I proceed to the cocktail area, there was this bar set up with all kinds of condoms, lubrication, toys, and fresh fruit-for-two bowls. Did I forget to mention that melting pots of cheese, chocolate, and carmel were available. I wasn't sure if the man would dip his charlie into the warm substance. But as my imagination started developing after my on-set of nervousness disappeared, I relaxed.

I am so glad that my eyes are masked, and no one can see the shape of them.

I planned on being cat girl tonight. I am horny as fuck after having dealt with some cheap paying motherfuckers with short dicks. I seem to be in a contest to see who can get the shortest dick (length and timing) So I am so ready for some missionary, hair pulling sucking and fucking tonight. No money making tonight, pure pleasure.


My text to number #43 read, I am interested in arching my back high for you and squirting my hot oil over you.

Reply to #69 - I am full of diesel oil and I would be interested in putting strawberries around your pussy, but you have to sit on top of the glass table, that has the black light underneath.

Text to #43 - your dick is incredibly long and rubbery..it is all yours?

Reply from #69 - meet me in room 342 in 5 minutes. its my private suite all decked out in Mahogany Wood with bed post. I will be there sitting and waiting for your arrival, dick and tongue, in tow.

Singing

I am such a sex kitten. I love touching, licking, freaking, and smelling. I love the sounds of "um and ah" after some touching and looking. So, I head to the office for the day. I am casually dressed in a flowing green skirt, with a nice wrap shirt. Flats for me, mostly sandals.

I am feeling good after leaving my set last night. I performed for my third time in public and have been getting a great response. I am still visually seeing the crowd last night, as I perform some cover hits of Lizz Wright's Salt, Cassandra Wilson's Death Letter Blues. I was in this bluesy kind of mood. It seems to work here, since there are not too many Soul and Blues singers on the island.

During my performance, there was this guy in the audience, who actually was sitting at a round table right near the man-made stage. He smiled the entire time. He face was pleasant. His teeth were bleached white, almost looked like some dude from Kenya. (I seem to attract all non-American men. My friends call me Foreign guy magnet.

Anyway, at the end of the show, I went to the dressing room. There on my make-up table, also know as a desk. A beautiful vase of red flowers, which looked freshly picked. I reached for the card, it read "I cannot help but think of you all the time, since I first heard you practice months ago. I will be the one in the front row smiling at you during your entire set."





Well, immediately my memory flashes back to the one person who sat there. As I remember, he had a red flower on the lapel of his suit jacket. He was dressed very casually.

to be continued....

Plantations by Name & Class

Good Morning Senator So and So, Litentnate Governor, and guest. I am so humble to be in your presence. It is with great honor that I present my most important sense of giving you honor and praise everytime I see you or a member of your family.

{what am i thinking here is how slaves honored their estates/plantations}

Antonio and Juan Melee

After traveling the whole island for the day, I sat near the sea to rest and relax my thoughts in the beautiful colored water.


I bought along my usual green stash of herb and some drinking water. I couldn't get it out of my head, after hearing my business aired at the local bakery this morning when I walked in. I was next in line to order some coconut cookie drops for the office. When all of a sudden, I overheard a women speaking in Spanish, pointing and saying "that's that bitch right there." Well, since I had my Gucci glasses on and looking so fabulous, I knew she wasn't referring to me. Who the fuck is she. Obviously she didn't know that I speak 6 languages and Spanish is one of them. So I continued as if I didn't hear her. She couldn't see my eyes behind my shades. I stood very tall amongst them, as I was also sporting my fly shoes

I can't help that I bring style and class to the Caribbean. Well anyway, I overhead the mentioning of Antonio, who is my ex-lover's friend. He admired me and my ex in our face and talked much meelee behind our backs. He wanted my goodies from day one he laid his eyes on me.


I ran into him after leaving the beach, we had lunch. As usual, alone he would always pay me a compliment, using his Island style creole, of 'woman, ya kno' ya lookin sweet. Big boy ain't hitting it right.' I smiled and sipped on my rum.

He was saying things about how young and beautiful I was to some other menfolk, when all of a sudden he starting saying how much I confide in him about Juan's erectile dysfunction. How he understood that I was probably craving something long and hard that could go on for hours. He mentioned that I needed something good and lasting and he could confidentially do the job. As usual, I would play him off by smiling and saying that I can handle my own and never discussing with him the ins and outs of my displeasure with Juan's unsatisfactory dick.


After a few more rum & coke, I remembered back earlier about what I overheard at the bakery. It was this dirty mouth, motherfucker that dem Spanish women were talking about. It was Antonio spreading melee about fucking me, when damn well I heard his dick was broke too!



I guess fantasizing is all Antonio and Juan can both do, since both them motherfuckers have erectile dysfunction/cum2fast itius.