Once it became clear that Covid was going to be an apparently endless cluster fuck, Jessie and Jack decided they had to change up their lives. Being locked up in their apartment and living life on Zoom only confirmed what they had been feeling even before the pandemic. Commuting an hour each way to a soulless job and taking only two weeks of vacation a year was crushing them. The next step for them was kids. They weren’t ready for that. They had to live a little first.

They had some luck on their side. Jessie had stock options that had just vested. The townhouse that Jack’s parents had helped them buy had tripled in value. They cashed out the options and the equity in their house, sold their cars, moved to the tax-free Cayman’s and bought a sailboat. It was a thirty-year old, forty-foot Catalina, that needed a bit of work, but she was all they needed to ply the Caribbean. They re-christened her “Jay Bird” after the light-blue spinnaker she came with, and their own initials. Life became glorious. They sailed from island to island, swam and worked-out, snorkeled, and fucked, every wondrous day.

They covered expenses through social media earnings. Jessie had an Instagram page that pushed bikinis and suntan oil, and an Only Fans page that pushed her naked tits and ass. Together, they had a You Tube channel about live-aboard sailing and Caribbean travel. And, when they got “comped” at a resort in return for advertising, they celebrated a real bed and a real shower with knock-down, drag out sex. They weren’t going to get rich, but they could live, and fuck, in paradise. And then their luck ran out.

They were in the lower Bahamian Islands, where they often had coves and beaches totally to themselves. Many of the islands were essentially privately owned, but the young and beautiful Jessie and Jack could usually charm their way into a few nights in a private harbor.

They’d wandered into a cove on a very small island not too far from Albert Town. There was an old white Victorian house on the hill, and a large yawl moored at a long dock, but no signs of life.

Jessie and Jack anchored in the lagoon and went diving for conch and lobster. Their net bags were quickly full, and they waded onto a pristine white sand beach to rest before heading back to the boat. As usual, Jessie had her long blonde hair in a braid, and was in nothing but a branded thong. She had a net bag of conch over a shoulder, her dive mask perched on her head, and a pair of fins in the other hand.

It was moments like this that Jack could not believe his good fortune. Jessie was perfection. Jack waded ashore just behind her, enjoying the glistening, round globes of her butt, the muscles of her athletic back, and the tone of her legs as she high-stepped through the small waves. He glanced around the abandoned beach and decided he would take her, right there. When Jessie climbed the steep wet sand and turned, she could tell by the smile on Jack’s face, and the bulge in his surf shorts, what he had in mind. Truth was, Jessie had been thinking the same thing, since before they had even jumped off the boat.

Jack staked their game bags in the shallow water with his lobster spear. As he walked toward her, Jessie broke into an Instagram worthy pose, her hands behind her neck, her pert breasts and erect nipples arched toward the sky, and a huge, mischievous smile on her face. Jack let his surf shorts drop, and the cock she loved so much bobbed free, growing stiffer with each step.

They kissed with a tight embrace, but Jack quickly dropped to his knees. Jessie stood on tip-toes, her weight braced against Jack’s head, as he ate her out. Her usual light, briny taste was even saltier, with fresh seawater still dripping down her body. As Jessie got close, she risked losing her balance as she raised one hand to cup her breast and pinch a nipple. When her tremors started just moments later, she had to return the hand to the foundation of Jack’s head. She pulled on his wavy, brown hair as she struggled to stay upright and screamed out her orgasm.

“Give me that dick,” Jessie said with a laugh, as she bent down to lick and kiss her juice from her man’s face. She wanted to return the favor. She wanted to take her husband’s thick, cut cock into her mouth and savor his cum. Jack had something else in mind, however. He allowed her to suck him for just long enough to get his cock free of abrasive salt residue. Soon, Jessie was on all fours, the water lapping at her knees, as Jack fucked her from behind.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes,” Jessie groaned with every thrust. Jack was not about her pleasure, however. Not this time. He grabbed his young girlfriend’s hips and pounded into Jessie with firm, long strokes.

“Argh, argh, argh!” Jack howled as his orgasm started from deep within him and he released spurt upon spurt of cum into his Jessie’s warm, tight cunni. He withdrew and watched with proud excitement as his white cream streamed from her lips onto the wet sand beneath them. He pulled Jessie up to him, hugging her from behind as they each recovered their breath.

“Excuse me!” a voice called to them.

Jack and Jessie scrambled to their feet in shock. In a comic sequence, they tried to cover their naked body with their hands, pulled together to hide behind one another, and ultimately ran into the waist-deep water.

A handsome couple stood two-hundred feet away at an opening to the forest. Jessie was curious how they had missed it, as behind the couple was clearly a path that led to coquina stone steps.

“Hello,” Jack called back. He had no idea how long the couple had been there. Had they just walked down the path and found them embracing in post coital bliss? Or had they been standing there, watching them fuck, the whole time?

The couple walked toward them without any apparent concern or embarrassment. The opposite was the case for Jessie and Jack. The couple walked to the crest of the beach and stood less than thirty feet from where Jessie and Jack crouched under the water.

They were a very attractive couple. The woman was about the age of Jessie and Jack, on or just over the cusp of thirty. She had a short, curly bob of chestnut hair, the high cheek bones of a model, and light blue eyes. She was dressed oddly, in a long linen skirt, and a crisp long-sleeved white blouse. And, most strangely of all, she was carrying a white, fringed parasol.

The man was a bit older, perhaps forty. He was very handsome, with brilliant blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a square jaw complete with a dimpled chin. He wore a captain’s cap, apparently without irony, and a full linen white suit and tie.

“We’re so pleased to have visitors,” the woman said with a smile. Jack and Jessie relaxed a bit.

“Sorry for our… state…” Jack started. “We didn’t realize anyone was here. I’m afraid we got a little carried away.”

“Not to worry! We are from Hollywood, darlings. We are all for free love!” the man said.

“Oh yes,” the woman chimed in, “this is not the first time this beach has hosted an amorous couple, I assure you!”

“I’m Winston and this is my wife, Clare,” the man explained. “We’d be pleased to have you to up the house. Feel free to use our dock. Just follow the stairs up to the house. Cocktails are served on the veranda at five o’clock. We do, let me be clear, usually dress for dinner,” Winston said with a smile.

Jessie and Jack exchanged glances and shrugged. “See you then,” Jack said, as Winston and Clare turned and walked back up the beach.

“Should I be charmed or creeped-out by those two?” Jessie asked as she recovered her thong.

“Bit of both, I think. Bit of both,” Jack answered as he tossed the conch and lobsters back into the water. “Now what in the hell are we going to wear to dinner?”