The sun was high and hot, its light glittering on the surface of the Atlantic and beating down on the cigarette boat cutting through the low waves, piloted by a wizened Brazilian man in a tattered Parrotthead shirt. Inside the boat's cramped cabin David Mercer tapped away at his laptop.

It was the same book he always worked on when he was idle, writing, changing his mind and rewriting, over and over again. It was a cheap spy thriller that he'd always secretly wanted to publish. Some schlock about a weather-controlling satellite, a gorgeous but suspicious redhead and a protagonist currently named Glenn Maverick.  

David knew it was garbage, but enjoyed it nevertheless. Currently, he was trying to come up with witty one-liners related to death by runaway tesla coils. Something... something... shocking? Or something about something striking twice?  

It was too hot to think straight. Although the wind and stinging seaspray kept things cool up on deck, down there in the cabin it was a different story. The boat's roof was hot enough to cook shrimp and the interior was sweaty and stuffy. He reached into the mini-cooler by his feet and grabbed a soda from the rapidly-melting pile of ice. He rubbed the chilled, wet metal over the dark skin of his forehead and ran his wet fingers across his close buzz cut in a desperate attempt to cool off.  

There was a rustle of ice as Mark Peterson, seated on the bench across from him, reached over and grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler. David cleared his throat at the young man.  

"How old are you again?"  

"Uh..." The blond student grinned sheepishly, "Old enough to drink in Brazil?"  

"Yeah, you can get away with that when you're paying for the plane tickets." David grabbed a soda from the ice and held it out, "You're here on the university's dime. No drinking where I can see you."  

Mark ruefully accepted the can and dropped the beer back in the ice. David looked over at the third inhabitant of the cabin: Tiffany Kwon. She lay on her back, sprawled across the third bench seat, her long, pink-streaked black hair spilling over cushions. She was wearing a purple bikini under a translucent yellow cover-up and was staring forlornly at her phone, displaying a 'failure to load' page. She had been doing that ever since the boat got too far from shore for a proper cell signal.  

"You want a drink, Tiff?" David asked, "Or are you going into some kind of millennial shock without 4G?"  

Tiffany rolled her head to glower at David through her thick-rimmed glasses. "It's not my fault you wouldn't pay extra for a boat with an antenna. Besides, you're a millennial too."

  "What?" Mark looked up at David in confusion "But you're old!"  

"... None taken." David raised an eyebrow and Mark blushed, realizing what he just said. David was still getting used to it, at thirty-four, he still felt young but most of his students didn't see him that way.  

"He's an elder millennial," Tiffany poked at her phone, looking for some app she could use offline, "They're immune to status effects and get an extra attack a round."  

"Not going to even pretend I know what you're talking about, Tiff."  

Mark sipped his soda thoughtfully, "So wait... am I a millennial?"  

"You're just a sophomore," Tiffany looked over, "You can't be a millennial without crushing student debt. Everyone knows that."  

"Yeah, but I took a gap year." Mark failed to notice Tiffany roll her eyes.  

"Still counts," Tiffany seemed to have found some game that involved tapping at a large cookie to no obvious effect.  

The conversation died again, leaving the cabin filled only with the sound of the boat's engine and the muffled sounds of some music from the skipper's boom-box up above. After a few minutes, David noticed Mark scoot a bit closer to Tiffany.  

"You know, on my year off I spent some time in Japan," Mark bragged, flashing her a smile that probably served him very well in high school.  

Tiffany, still resting on her back, stared at him silently.

  "... Then afterward I visited China for a week."

  Tiffany continued to stare at him. The hot cabin dropped a degree or two.  

"... uh..." Mark seemed to realize how much he had fucked up but didn't seem to have the common sense to cut his losses. "... I've always wanted to see Vietn -"  

"I'm Korean," Tiffany finally spoke, voice flat. "And from Wisconsin."  

"Oh, I love cheese!"

  "Babo."  

David shook his head slightly and turned back to his laptop as Mark dug his hole deeper. He couldn't blame the kid, Tiffany was looking very good in that bathing suit. In fact, it was hard to avoid thoughts a professor shouldn't have about one of his grad students. She was short but slim rather than compact, with slender legs leading to a petite waist and small, but very perky...  

He derailed that train of thought and forced himself to focus on the adventures of Glenn Maverick, action meteorologist. Besides, he was fairly sure that Mark was barking up entirely the wrong tree. At a university Halloween party last year he'd accidentally walked in on Tiffany and an absolutely gorgeous black girl dressed as a sexy pirate, making out behind the vending machines. The two were too busy to notice him and he had beaten a hasty retreat.  

A bit of rejection would probably be good for Mark. The kid was handsome, with dirty blond hair and big hazel eyes, and he was pretty sure his parents were loaded. He probably didn't hear "no" a lot. The fact that he was built like a quarterback didn't hurt either. His grades weren't anything to write home about but at least he seemed to try his best. He was here for some extra credit and because he was dive certified, so the university wouldn't have to pay the cost of a professional.

  David's writing and Mark's attempts to dig his foot deeper into his mouth were interrupted by the sound of a whistle from above.

  "Are we there yet?" Tiffany groaned.  

"Sounds like it," David set his laptop aside and got to his feet, making sure he didn't bump his head on the low ceiling. Boats were not kind to tall folks. "I'll go up and take a look."  

Climbing up to the deck, holding onto wobbly rails to keep his footing, David was temporarily blinded by the sudden glare. It was high noon without a cloud in sight and the sun was punishingly hot. Even the spray thrown up by the boat felt warm on his skin, although at least the breeze was pleasant.  

"Olá Senhor," Called the skipper, noticing David's arrival. "We're almost there!"  

As David's eyes adjusted he could see the man was right. On the horizon was an island, dotted with blue-green buildings: Ilha Anjos.  

Ilha Anjos was home to the Sea Angels marine biology research station and literally nothing else. The island was smaller than a Walmart and featured only a large central building, an attached dorm and a couple of small outbuildings. It's only other features were a few outbuildings and scattered palm trees.  

Personally, David would have preferred spending his summer somewhere with more than an acre of dry land but Sea Angels weren't charging the university anything for using their facilities and funding was tight. Besides, they were right on the equator and it was pretty much ideal for David's needs.  

As the boat approached the skipper cut the engine to a low idle and maneuvered the small craft towards the pier. A larger trawler was already moored there, with the Sea Angels' cartoon manatee logo painted on the side. The old man hopped down and tied his own boat next to the larger one, before climbing back aboard and opening the cargo hatch to start unloading his passenger's luggage.

  "I don't mean to rush you, Senhor," The skipper hefted a huge duffle without much trouble despite his wiry frame. "But I have other passengers to meet soon, you know?"  

"It's no trouble. We're all ready to get back on firm ground." David hefted his own bag, Tiffany and Mark were already emerging from the cabin, eager to be off the boat.  

They climbed off one by one, careful to avoid dropping any of their equipment into the surf below. As soon as everyone was clear the skipper cast off again, waving them goodbye. David hoped he remembered that they'd need a ride back in two week's time.  

Once she was firmly on the pier Tiffany immediately retrieved a tube of sunscreen from her purse and started applying it to her arms and face. The girl had pale skin that could sunburn in an instant and she had packed copious quantities of SPF 100.

  "Olá!!"  

David looked up from his luggage at the sudden greeting. The speaker was a woman, jogging across the small scrap of dry land between the building and the pier. As she got closer David recognized her: Dr. Juliana Montes, head marine biologist the Sea Angels research center.  

Juliana was tall and looked like she kept herself in great shape, her generous curves only slightly concealing her athletic build. She had glowing bronze skin and a mane of dark hair, frizzed from constant exposure to seawater.  

David normally tried not to ogle the first time he met a fellow academic but Juliana was making it hard not to. Especially since she was currently wearing a pair of hip-hugging, red jogging shorts and a thin, white belly shirt stretched over an, admittedly, incredible pair of tits. The shirt was damp from ocean spray and sweat and her breasts bounced happily, unhindered by a bra.  

He glanced over at Tiffany and Mark, both were openly staring.  

"I want to go to there," Tiffany murmured, a look of almost awe on her face.  

"Professor Mercer, I assume?" Juliana slowed as she approached, breathing heavily from the jog and putting additional strain on the fabric of her shirt. "Glad you made it okay, have a good flight down to São Luís?"  

This close, David could clearly see Juliana's large, dark areola through the damp shirt. His jaw worked up and down for a moment as he struggled to decide whether or not he should say anything. Maybe things were just different in Brazil?  

Managing an ounce of self-control, David extended a hand to Juliana, "Ah... yes. Yes, that's me. Glad to meet face-to-face, Dr. Montes."  

She shook his hand, a firm strong grip. "Please, call me Juliana. It's so great to have you here."

  David smiled, keeping his brown eyes fixed firmly on hers. "Well, thanks for hosting us for the experiment. I normally do my research in Antarctica so this is a nice change."  

"Well, maybe after this heat you'll miss it, huh?" Juliana laughed and David had to be very disciplined to keep himself from looking down. "Are these your students?"  

"Yes, this is Tiffany Kwon, one of my grad students." David winced to see both of them were still openly enraptured by Juliana's barely-contained chest. "And this is Mark Peterson, he's our diver and a student in my atmospheric science course."  

Juliana noticed the looks from both Tiffany and Mark and finally seemed to realize what they were staring at. Her cheeks darkened slightly in embarrassment and she crossed her arms over her chest, providing some modesty.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Juliana gasped, although she seemed more amused than upset. "I was in the middle of my workout and I'm so used to being alone out here... I completely forgot how I was dressed!"

David's face heated, although fortunately his blush was invisible beneath his black skin, and grinned sheepishly. "Oh? I hadn't even noticed."  

Juliana smirked at him, raising one eyebrow in clear disbelief. David could respond only with an embarrassed shrug.  

"Come on in, I can put something on and show you around." She motioned for the three of them to follow her into the main building.  

Juliana, now wearing a t-shirt with a cartoon manatee, gave them a tour of the facility. The main building was a two-story structure equipped with everything needed for the Sea Angel's research: bio labs, specimen tanks and a veterinary hospital. The attached dorm had a kitchen, dining and recreation area and five small bedrooms.

As they were walking the grounds, something occurred to David. "Dr. Montes, you said you've been by yourself, but aren't you supposed to have backup staff in places like this?"  

"Juliana." She corrected. "I did have Maria and Lucas here with me until about a month ago. But Maria had to head back to the mainland once she realized she was pregnant."

  "What about Lucas?"  

"Well, it wasn't me who got Maria knocked up, was it?" Juliana grinned, eyes sparkling. "In theory, I should get a new crew right away. But funding's tight..."

"I know how that is," David grunted sympathetically, "That's why researchers have to stick together."  

"Exactly right. But hey, look on the bright side: we've got space for everyone to have a room to themselves!"

"Dr. Montes, I have a question." Tiffany piped up, phone in hand. "My phone can't find the wifi, is it different in Brazil?"  

Juliana shook her head, "Oh, I'm sorry, menina. No wi-fi out here."  

Tiffany looked like someone had just shot her puppy in front of her.

"We have a satellite link," Juliana continued, not noticing their mental agony. "But the bandwidth is merda. We just use it for email and that still takes forever."  

David patted Tiffany and Mark on the shoulder, "Welcome to the dial-up world. Don't worry, Twitter will still be terrible when you get back online."  

Before Tiffany could respond the conversation was interrupted by the sound of an approaching engine. David sighed, an expression of apprehension on his face. "I think that will be our 'independent verification'."

David led them outside, his mood instantly fouled. He and his students were here to retrieve a series of specialized sensor buoys from the open ocean. For the past year, the buoys have been transmitting subsurface sensor data by satellite, monitoring the ocean's temperature at the equator. From the data gathered so far, this summer was another record-breaker and even the winter and fall had been hotter than average. In order to confirm the data, they had to retrieve the buoys and perform calibration tests to make sure that no physical or software defects skewed the data.  

Unfortunately, this study wasn't cheap and every year the budget shrunk smaller and smaller. This year, the meteorological department had to seek funding from an unpleasant source: Nafta Petrochem.  

David had been against it from the beginning, sure that they would attempt to pressure the university to dismiss or distort the results. Sure enough, as soon as the first check cleared Nafta pointed out a bit of fine print that allowed them to demand "independent verification" of the buoy's data, sending a representative of their choice to review the results.  

The engine turned out to be a seaplane, approaching from the mainland. The small craft came in for a water landing and coasted to the pier where David, Juliana and the students waited. Mark broke the silence, "So... who is this?"  

Tiffany glared at him, probably still upset about the wi-fi. "Some big oil dick who's going to make sure the weather data never sees the light of day."  

"Cool it." David's tone was serious, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen. But you've got to keep it civil, they could use a hostile work environment as an excuse to delay or disqualify the study. So play nice."

"Babacas intrometidos," Juliana muttered under her breath.  

David looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, "Cuidado, eles podem saber Portugues."  

She smiled at his rusty Portuguese and gave him a wink. That made him feel a bit better at least. He turned back to the docking plane and steeled himself as the door opened. So long as he made sure everything was documented to hell and back and he didn't give this bastard any excuse to declare the results invalid, then there was still hope for getting the data published.  

David was still surprised by the woman who emerged. He was expecting a bureaucrat or an engineer of some kind who'd be scouring their report for errors and loopholes. He had never seen a pencil-pusher who looked quite like this.  

She looked more like a movie star from the '60s, like one of those "Bond girls" with terrible names like Anna Lingus or Rebecca Kumalot. She was dressed in a wide-brimmed white hat, a white, shoulderless summer dress and a pair of large, designer sunglasses. The wind picked up, billowing her dress and her shoulder-length dark brown hair, forcing her to hold her hat to keep it from blowing away.  

As she stepped onto the pier David felt a surge of annoyance at how beautiful she was. She had a light, Mediterranean complexion and her fluttering dress revealed long, graceful legs and pressed against the curve of her hips and breasts. She wasn't quite as impressively endowed as Juliana but they looked like they would each make a soft, warm handf -  

David cut off that line of thought and chastised himself. He had come out of a long-term relationship about eight months ago and hadn't had much more than a drunken make-out or two since then. He told himself that he was just feeling lonely and had been working too hard on the love life of Glenn Maverick and not enough on his own.  

"Professor Mercer?" The woman's voice brought him back to reality. It was a hell of a voice, low and sensual with a light Italian accent. Hearing her say his name was the aural equivalent of a scalp massage, leaving a light tingle across his head and neck.

"Professor Mercer?" She repeated when David failed to respond. Juliana and the others were giving him a funny look and he was, again, glad that they couldn't see him blush.  

"Yes!" He blurted, ruining any chance of keeping his cool. "That's me. I assume you're from Nafta?"  

"That's right, darling." She smiled: a predatory smile of white teeth against blood-red lips. She held out her hand. "Carrie Ricci. It is so nice to be working with you."  

David took her hand and, before he could pull away, she lifted his hand to her lips, planting a kiss on the top of his hand. It might have simply been a typically European greeting, but she let her lips linger just half-a-second longer than felt appropriate.  

David managed to avoid yanking his hand back like a flustered virgin and kept at least a scrap of dignity. "Well, it's certainly nice to meet you, Ms. Ricci. Can I ask what your qualifications are?"  

She waved to the pilot of the seaplane, who had just finished unloading an impressive pile of luggage, and flashed David another predatory smile, "I'm afraid not, darling. But I'm sure we will get along fabulously."  

"I bet," Tiffany muttered, although she returned to poking at her phone when David shot her a warning look.  

Mark had a big goofy grin on his face and quickly volunteered to help unload and carry Carrie's large suitcases. David was thankful that Mark wasn't privy to any important experimental data, because he was sure Carrie wouldn't have any trouble pumping him for information.

He had expected them to send a lawyer. This was so much worse.  

Several hours later Mark was lying in his bed. The room was small, with a closet-sized bathroom, a few bare wall shelves and a bed. It was a place for sleep and storing personal essentials and not much else. Like one of those economy dorms back at the campus.  

It was also really hot. Even after night fell, the heat was oppressive. A small, low-energy air conditioner and an oscillating fan struggled to keep the room semi-comfortable. He had tried doing his nightly push-ups and sit-ups but was forced to stop when the sweat and heat became unbearable.

Now he lay naked on the bed, basking in the relatively cool breeze created by the fan. He was still damp from a post-workout shower and the breeze was a blessed relief on his wet skin. Normally, at this time of night, he'd have a drink from his stash and watch nutshot youtube videos on his phone until he fell asleep. Until now, he thought Tiffany had been acting ridiculously about the whole wifi thing but he was starting to feel the pangs of withdrawal himself.  

He suddenly became aware of a stirring in his dick and looked down to see that he was already semi-hard. Probably from thinking about Tiffany. She did look really amazing in that bikini and she'd been wearing it all day, flaunting her sexy, petite body. The Carrie woman was hot too, and Juliana had an amazing rack but he had a thing for small girls. Girls you could lift up, hold against the wall, toss onto a bed. Girls who barely had to bend down to suck a dick.  

He toyed with his cock while he fantasized about Tiffany, getting himself fully hard and ready before retrieving his laptop. He shoved some pillows and sheets into a corner of the bed to lean against and set the laptop up in front of him. He didn't have any lotion but he could probably survive a dry rub.

That's when he remembered that there wasn't any wifi. Tiffany was right, this was hell.  

He clicked through his folders, hoping he had saved a video somewhere for later. But there was nothing. Normally he'd just get onto Pornhut or Fuckhamster, type in "petite" and maybe "anal" and he'd be done in ten minutes or less.  

He lay back in frustration. Now that he was rock-hard there was no way he'd be able to get to sleep without finishing it off but he hadn't jacked it without porn since he was sixteen. He struggled to kickstart his rusty imagination, trying to envision Tiffany without that bikini, stroking his dick carefully to avoid too much friction.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a knock at the door.

His heart was beating fast with the fear known to all young men and he called out in a slightly shaky voice, "Uh... just... just a minute!"

His clothes were crammed in a hamper so he wrapped a sheet over himself and stumbled to the doorway. He opened the door a crack, peeking through to see who was outside.

It was Juliana. She was wearing a red, one-piece thong swimsuit which hugged her figure tightly, it's deep 'v' neckline struggling to contain her huge tits. Her hair was slightly damp and she flashed him a bright smile when he answered the door. "Olá"  

"Oh... hi." Mark had expected it to be David, probably planning to tell him something about the dive tomorrow. Juliana's presence, and her appearance, was a surprise. "Uh... if you're looking for Professor Mercer, he took the room at the end of the hall."

"No, I'm in the right place." She paused for a moment, a small smile on her face. "I'm... looking for something and I thought it might have been left in here. Mind if I come in?"

  "Sure." He agreed before his brain realized what she had asked but before he could backtrack or correct himself she pushed her hand against the partially open door and he instinctively stepped back to let her inside. Juliana closed the door behind her and stepped into the room. He was acutely aware that he, and his half-mast dick, were barely covered by a sheet and, from the draft he felt, he was pretty sure that his ass was bare.  

Juliana didn't seem bothered by the situation and started checking the shelves and drawers of the room, rummaging through the few items left by the room's previous resident.  

He tried to conceal his discomfort with conversation. "So, uh... did you go for a swim or something?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, damp hair half-covering her face, "Yes, I like to get a bit wet before I go to bed."  

"Cool, cool, cool." He shifted his weight awkwardly back and forth on his feet, trying to keep his back to a wall so that he didn't flash his butt at her. "What're you looking for?"

Juliana waved her hand vaguely. "It's like a... pau duro. Something like that."  

"What does it look like?"  

"Oh... you know. Just... normal looking." Juliana got down on all fours in front of the bed, peeking underneath. The position left her ass pointed directly at Mark, the thong barely covering anything. The moonlight streaming through the window played on her bronze skin. Mark couldn't tear his eyes away, transfixed by the glorious, round ass.  

Apparently finding nothing, Juliana sat back on her knees and turned slightly to look back at Mark. Standing above her, he could see directly down the top of her swimsuit, her breasts pressed together by the tight fabric.  

"Ah, there it is." Juliana grinned up at Mark, raising her dark eyebrows.  

It was only then that Mark realized his semi had changed to full mast while he was staring at her ass. The sheets were thin and only served to draw attention to his erection as it pressed against the fabric. In a panic, he grabbed at his waist, trying to gather sheets to cover himself, but this caused them to fall from his shoulders, leaving his chest and torso bare. He only just managed to keep it from falling to the floor entirely and was left blushing furiously as he held a bunched up mass of sheets over his dick, leaving his legs, ass and upper body entirely uncovered.  

"I'm sorry!" He stuttered, backing up until his bare ass hit the wall a few feet behind him. "It's just... it was... Sorry!"  

Juliana's smile widened and she got to her feet and stepped closer. She was just an inch or so shorter than he was, putting her nearly at his eye-level as she closed the distance. He almost yelped when she put both hands on the wall on both sides, just barely not touching his shoulders.

"Nothing to apologize for, garotinho." Juliana's voice was quiet and husky. "This is exactly what I came here to find."

"What?"  

Juliana blinked at his confusion and shook her head slightly. "Tão estúpido. Look. I spell it out for you, okay? I've been stuck on this island for six months now. My last vibrator wore out three weeks ago."

"So, you were looking for a new one?"

"Meu Deus," Juliana sighed and hooked her fingers under the straps of her swimsuit. She peeled the suit down, baring her huge, round breasts. They were the size of cantaloupe melons and tipped with large, dark areolae. She reached down, grabbing Mark's right hand and put it firmly on one breast.  

Mark's eyes went wide as his hand was filled to overflowing, her skin was cool compared to the heat of the air and he could feel the soft nub of her nipple against his palm. Understanding finally dawned on him and he let the bunched sheet drop from his remaining hand, raising it to clutch at her other breast. He couldn't believe what was happening, "This isn't a dream or something right?"

"That's more like it, garotinho." Juliana giggled as he massaged her breasts, squeezing them gently together. She put both her hands on his waist, running them across his tight abs and down to the v-shaped muscles of his waist and finally bringing one down to stroke the length of his rock-hard dick. "Feels real to me, yeah?"

"Oh yeah!" Mark breathed heavily as she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked gently. "Fuck yeah!"  

She pressed herself close, pressing him between her breasts and the wall, their faces only an inch or two apart. Mark moved his hands to her back and then downward, sinking them into the taut skin of her ass. She had nice, juicy curves but he could feel firm muscle underneath. Juliana purred and let him pull her waist against his and he let out a low, incoherent sound as he felt his dick rub against the front of her swimsuit. He could feel the heat of her pussy seeping through the thin material as they rubbed together.

"You like?" Juliana clearly knew the answer already as she lifted one leg, wrapping it over his hip so she could press herself directly onto his dick. The swimsuit was so tight and sheer that he could feel the lips of her pussy as she started to grind against him.  

"Hell yeah. Oh god damn!" Mark felt on top of the world, completely forgetting about the wifi, the heat, the weird frozen dinners that were the only food out here. He was on a tropical island and a beautiful Brazilian woman was rubbing herself all over his dick. Life was good.  

Juliana pulled back a bit and spun around, pressing her bare back and barely covered ass against him. He pulled her damp hair aside and started to kiss and suck at her neck. He pulled her waist against his, pressing his dick against the thin, strained fabric of her thong, before moving his hands up her body to cup her tremendous breasts again.  

Still pressing him between her back and the wall Juliana ground her body against him and turned her head to catch his lips with hers. She practically devoured his mouth, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and gripping it gently with her teeth before shoving her tongue against his. He tried to say something enthusiastic but she wouldn't let him go and he only made muffled noises against her mouth.

Mark gasped when their mouths finally parted, slightly dizzy and out of breath. Juliana leaned forward and pressed her big, firm ass harder against his body. She bent her knees slightly and stuck her ass out more, bouncing against him. It felt amazing.  

"Fuck, work that ass!" Mark hooted, holding his hands on both sides of her ribs. He started to strip the swimsuit down her torso and she pulled forward to help him peel the thong off, revealing her ass and her pussy. Ironically, not waxed, but still trimmed neatly.

"Garotinho, I only just begun to work it," She slammed her bare ass back against him, twerking hard up and down on his dick, the slight dampness from the wet swimsuit helping him to slide freely between her asscheeks. He could feel her wet pussy pushing against his balls.

He raised one hand to smack her ass just like a pornstar but gasped at a sudden tightness and grunted as he came, spraying her ass and lower back with cum. Juliana paused in her enthusiastic grinding.

"Mark..." She said, her voice flat. "Did you just jizz all over my fucking back?"

"You were grinding on me! I couldn't help it."  

She fired off a rapid string of frustrated Portuguese, so fast that he couldn't even tell when one word ended and the next started. She turned around, tugging her swimsuit back on. "I am going to my room to wash my fucking back and get some condoms."

  She pointed angrily at the bed, "You will be here, with a hard dick, when I get back. Or I will shove my foot up your ass."  

Mark held up both hands in a placating gesture. "Yes, ma'am! I-I swear."

  Juliana stormed out, muttering in Portuguese.  

David was sitting in the dark, typing away at his laptop. The light from the laptop shone on the black skin of his bare chest and arms. He was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms but kept his shirt off because of the heat. Even with the combination of AC and fan, he was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He was fit, but not muscular. Back when he was a student he played soccer and even in his early thirties, he still found it easy enough to stay in shape.  

He was just too uncomfortable to sleep, so he was chipping away at the next chapter of Glenn Maverick's adventures. Glenn was confronted by betrayal from Kelly Redbush and was going to be turned over to the weather-controlling villain. Who was currently named John Badman, because David was still struggling with a properly witty name.  

There was a knock on the door just as the attempted betrayal started to turn into a steamy seduction, causing David to jump slightly and slam his laptop closed. He shook his head at his own reaction, like a kid caught looking at porn.  

He considered pulling his shirt on but decided against it. They were at the beach after all. Everyone would probably see his chest at some point. No one cared that Tiffany was walking around in a bikini all day, after all.  

"Coming!" He called, getting to his feet and crossing the short distance to the door. He assumed it was probably Juliana, they hadn't really discussed the buoy retrieval tomorrow and she might have a few questions. He swung the door open.  

"That's what I like to hear, darling."

Carrie Ricci stood in the doorway, still dressed in that flimsy white dress. She was grinning wickedly and her green eyes sparkled with amusement.  

"Oh! Ms. Ricci, I wasn't expecting..."  

"It's quite alright, darling." Carrie stepped forward with no hesitation and David had to either step aside and let her in the door or let her press herself directly against him. He stepped out of the way and she strode past him into the room. She was holding a manilla envelope, which she waved vaguely in his direction. "I just have a few things I need to check on for tomorrow."

"I thought we covered all this with the negotiations last month."  

"Don't worry, It's just a formality darling!" She sat on the edge of the bed and moved his laptop to the desk, patting the empty space next to her. "Please, come sit."

Shaking his head, David flicked the bedside lamp on and sat down next to her. She leaned in close, opening the folder across their knees. He was close enough to smell her perfume, hints of cinnamon and coffee. Strands of her hair brushed his shoulder. He really wished he had put a shirt on.  

Carrie's flipped through the contents of the folder: signed agreements, dates of retrieval, buoy placement. It was all material that had been thoroughly covered before but David tried his best to remain laser-focused for any mistakes or changes. Who knew what she'd be able to use as an excuse to declare the study invalid?  

"So, on the 14th we'll be going over the hard drives and we can..." Carrie's voice trailed off. David looked up from the paperwork to see her staring at him through half-lidded eyes.  

"Ms. Ricci?"  

"Oh no, I'm sorry, darling!" Carrie smiled dreamily, "I'm afraid I had already taken a valium and a glass of wine for jet lag when I remembered all this, so I'm feeling a little... distracted."  

David sighed, "Well, why not handle this tomorrow morning? Nothing here seems to be that essential."  

"You're so right, darling." Carrie patted him on the shoulder. She paused, apparently surprised, and gently squeezed his arm, making a small, pleased noise in her throat at the feeling of his muscles. She slid her hand up his arm and towards his chest.  

"Ms. Ricci!" David blustered, unsure how to deal with this.  

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Despite her apology, she hadn't removed her hand and for some reason, it didn't occur to David to pull away. "It's just...well, you know...it's very difficult."  

David swallowed, trying to keep from losing what little dignity he had left. "I don't know what you mean, but maybe you should get to bed."  

She flashed her pearly smile and leaned a bit closer. Her long, red fingernails were twirling at the hair of his chest. "It's just difficult, being an Italian woman... with a thing for black men..."

Alarm bells went off in David's head.

Carrie continued, "I see the videos online, you know? But there are so few handsome, available black men in my country."  

Unsure of what to do, David tried to gently pry Carrie's hand off of his chest, "Look, that's very flattering, but-"  

He was cut off when Carrie took advantage of his hand on hers to pull it to her lips. But rather than another lingering kiss she took his middle finger in her mouth and begin to gently suck. His remaining words faded into a quiet, shaky noise of confusion.  

He knew that he really should be more firm with her. Pull his hand back. Push her away. Get a shirt on. But the soft, moist warmth of her lips on his fingertip was paralyzing. He just sat there, mouth open, staring at her. She met his gaze with her glittering, green eyes, hooded under her long lashes.  

Carrie finally took his finger out of her mouth. Before David could recover enough to pull his hand free she moved it downward, planting it firmly between her breasts. David could feel her body heat through the thin material of her dress, the lacy outline of her bra. It took all his strength to keep his hand limp, to avoid grabbing or stroking or reaching for anything.

"Mmmm... Professor." Carrie looked down at the folder still positioned on his lap. The paperwork was sliding out of place as one side lifted higher. "What is that you're hiding there?"  

David gritted his teeth and pulled his hand back, trying to keep his cool. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Ricci but I think you'd better go back to your room."  

"Oh, of course, darling, of course." She reached down for the folder but simply lay her palm flat on top of it, pressing down on top of his erection. "Oh my..."  

"Please!" He managed, his voice strained.

She started to move her hand in small circles, shuffling the papers and rubbing the top of his cock through the folder and the fabric of his pajamas. "But I can't leave you like this, darling... look what a state I've put you in."

 A thought finally managed to push its way through David's testosterone-fogged brain. He pulled back, rising to his feet and spilling the folder and papers across the floor. "Wait! This is your game, this whole thing is about the temperature study, isn't it?"  

"Oh, you wound me, David darling," Carrie flashed that predator's smile again and the drug-addled facade slipped away. "But I do have some concerns about the accuracy of the temperature data... maybe we could discuss them afterward?"

David crossed his arms, glaring down at the woman, her green eyes flashing with wicked amusement. "No. Absolutely, positively 100% no. You think I'd ruin years of research just for a nice pair of tits?"  

"Oh? You like them?" Carrie cupped her breasts in her hands, massaging them through the fabric of her dress as she looked up at him. "But you're so right, darling. It was stupid of me to think I could buy you with sex."

"I'm glad you understand," David sighed, face hot from anger and embarrassment. "Please, just go back to your room and we won't..."  

He was interrupted by Carried hooking a finger in the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his knees in one swift motion. He wasn't wearing briefs underneath and his cock, still hard, bounced up and down in front of her face. Carrie's eyes and smile both widened at the sight.  

"What are you doing!" David couldn't tell whether he should try and cover himself or grab for his pants and that split-second hesitation was all Carrie needed to wrap her fingers around his cock. She stroked gently, rolling her palm against the tip.  

"Well, we understand each other now, darling! You can't be bought, yes?" She planted a kiss just below his belly button. "So, we'll just do this for fun."  

Before David could protest further she had her lips around his cock. She sucked his head, pressing her tongue against the bottom, as she stroked two fingers up and down the length of his shaft. All he could manage was a strangled moan by way of weak protest.  

With her free hand, she loosened the string holding her dress in place, letting it slip down her breasts, exposing a strapless, front-clasped bra. A quick squeeze and her breasts popped free. David wasn't particularly surprised to see that, despite her sun-kissed skin, she had no tan lines.

David's head spun as she sealed her lips around the head of his cock and sucked tightly. Slowly, maintaining a firm, wet pressure with her lips, she pulled her head back until his cock finally sprang free with an audible pop. She met his eyes, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head coquettishly to one side. She seemed to be daring him to back out now or make the next move.  

David stood there for a moment, damp cock twitching, frozen by indecision. He didn't have to do this. He could kick her out. But it had been a long time since his breakup... and the sex wasn't exactly plentiful by the end of the relationship. His balls ached and it felt like his cock was begging him to get back in there. Carrie Ricci was clearly pretty damn good at sucking cock.

"Fine!" He growled, pressing his hands to his forehead. "Fine. Fuck it. But remember what I said: the study goes on, unchanged."  

Carrie grinned and gathered her legs under her, keeling on the edge of the couch and peeling the dress off her waist to expose a pair of pale violet panties. She motioned for him to move closer and, as he obeyed, she raised herself up to press her lips against his chest and stomach. Her hands found his cock and she massaged it against one breast. He could feel her nipple pressed right at the opening of his cock. She continued to trail kisses down his stomach while stroking her long fingernails lightly over his balls.  

"You like, David?"

 "It's... pretty nice."

  "Oh, you wound me, darling!" Carrie leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his waist. "I guess I'll just have to try harder."  

His cock was between her breasts, her pale olive skin contrasting his dark brown shaft. She squeezed them together and began to stroke, up and down. He could feel her nipples rub against his thighs and his curly pubic hair brushing her chest. The head of his cock almost vanished between her breasts as she rubbed upwards and on the downstroke she lowered her head and licked the tip of his cock, letting her hot, wet tongue lubricate him for the next stroke.

It felt really, really fucking good.  

David's legs started to shake slightly as Carrie increased the rate and firmness of her strokes. He could feel his balls tightening and his heart pounding. He had to resist the urge to jerk his waist, to thrust his cock against her chest. He didn't think he'd be able to last much longer at this rate.

"Come - come on, slow down!" He groaned as she puckered her lip just over the tip of his cock with that stroke, "You're gonna make me finish too... Fuuuck!"

He was cut off when his words had the opposite effect he had intended. Rather than easing off, Carrie let go of her breasts and wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching his ass with both hands and pulling him closer. She slid her head down over his cock and took the whole thing.

David wasn't a magnum-packing pornstar and no one would ever think to compare any part of his anatomy to a baby's arm. However, he was on the better side of average and his previous romantic partners had found his girth too intimidating to try taking more than an inch or two during a blowjob.

Carrie was different.  

Carrie languidly bent her neck, staring up at him as she pulled him into her mouth. One inch. Two inches... Three... Halfway... Her eyes rolled back in her head slightly as she took his whole cock down her throat. He could feel her tongue pressing against sack, her lips stretched tightly around his shaft and her nose tickling his pubic hair.

He couldn't control himself and reached down, weaving his fingers into Carrie's wavy brown hair and pulling her forward while he thrust with her hips. She moaned against his cock as it was shoved even deeper into her mouth and he could see she had one hand down the front of her panties, working away between her legs. Some tears appeared at the corner of her eyes but she made no move to pull away or resist as he pumped his cock in and out of her mouth.  

Naturally, it wasn't long before he came, slamming his head against the back of her throat. When his cock started twitching he tried to pull out, worried about choking Carrie, but she held firmly onto his butt, digging her fingernails in while keeping his cock locked in her throat. He came. Copious quantities of cum that had built up over the last few months. He held her head tightly as his cock jerked and spasmed, spraying squirts of semen for almost half a minute. He felt completely emptied.  

Finally, Carrie pulled back, breathing deeply, breasts heaving. She wiped the tears from her eyes streaking her light mascara and smiled up at him. There wasn't a single stream of cum on her face or lips. She had swallowed every drop.

 "Aww? Done already?" The impish gleam in her eyes made it clear that she was teasing him. He doubted anyone else could have lasted much longer than he did, with that sort of deep-throating. "That's too bad."  

David got his panting under control and forced a stern expression on his face. "We aren't done yet. Get those panties off."

She laughed and obeyed, revealing a perfectly waxed slit, gleaming with moisture and puffy from her own fingering. With no hair to cover it, her clit stood out clearly, poking between the folds of her labia. She gasped with excitement when he pushed her down on the bed and spread her legs apart.

"Oh my, Professor Mercer!" She giggled, massaging her breasts in her hands. "What are you planning, darling?"  

David knelt by the edge of the bed and grabbed her waist, tugging her to the rim. "I have a very important rule. I don't let anyone go down on me like you just did, without returning the favor."  

As he lowered his head to her eager cunt he couldn't help but feel proud of that line... he had just come up with it for a scene in Glenn Maverick's adventures just half an hour earlier. Carrie started to moan, holding the back of his head this time, as he went to work with his lips and tongue.

He promised himself that he'd keep going until he was hard again because at this point there was no way he was going to let Carrie Ricci out of that room without a full, deep fucking. This time, he'd show her how long he could last.  

Tiffany Kwon lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was naked, not having packed any sleepwear light enough to wear in the smoldering summer heat. Normally, she didn't mind the heat so much and could usually get to sleep in even the most oppressive temperatures so long as she had a fan to keep her from sweating.  

The heat wasn't the reason she couldn't sleep.

"Yes! Right there! Keep going!" The voice came from the wall to her left.  

"Unf! Unf! Unf! Do! You! Like! That!" That one came from the wall to her right.  

The voices were only slightly muffled by the thin walls. She had taken the room directly between David and Mark's. A choice she was regretting deeply right now.

Her airpods weren't working, probably from the damp, and she hadn't remembered to pack any earplugs. She squeezed her pillow around her ears, but that only made the sounds of enthusiastic fucking from the adjacent rooms slightly fainter.

"Just fucking come already!" She groaned and threw the pillow across the room.

Her foul mood and frustration weren't helped by the fact that she was really, really horny. Juliana's big-titted, Brazilian Amazon look had gotten her worked up earlier. Just the thought of burying her face into her incredible chest and sucking those big, brown nipples got her wet as hell. But even before she saw Juliana's amazing rack she had been feeling... pent up.  

Ever since Professor Mercer broke his engagement with that psycho bitch, Tiffany had entertained fantasies about the two of them. Nothing serious, she was sure he wasn't the sort of guy who'd want to date someone almost ten years younger than him, even if she wasn't his grad student. But this was her first research trip with him and for the past few days the two had been forced into closer quarters than usual: sharing taxis, side-by-side economy seats, crammed into a tiny boat together.

It was driving her crazy. She tried to focus on her phone to keep from sneaking peeks at him out of the corner of eyes, and to help her ignore Mark, but she still kept thinking about it. It didn't help that so many of these situations were exactly her fantasies about the two of them tended to start... and sometimes sharing a hot blond with a great pair of tits. Maybe a transfer student from Scandinavia.  

But now, he was one room over shoving his dick into the cunt of that cunt from Nafta Petrochem. And that dick Mark, who was decidedly not the sort of hot blond she had been imagining, was giving it to Juliana on the other side.

Finally, she decided to just give in and reached down to rummage in her bag. She knew better than to travel without a pocket rocket. After a bit of searching, she found the vibrator: a small, plastic bullet with several soft rubber nubs on the tip.

She switched it on, not caring if anyone heard her through the thin walls and spread her legs. As she listened to the sounds from the adjoining rooms she tried to get her mind to combine them, imagining Professor Mercer pounding Doctor Montes from behind. Once he came inside her hot, cinnamon pussy it would be her turn.  

The vibrator buzzed cheerfully against her clit as she tried to shut out the annoying, excess noises of Mark and Carrie, pushing the two of them out of her mind.

"Fuck yeah," Tiffany whispered, "You take that dick. You like that. Just remember bitch... remember I got dibs next."  

She arched her body, reaching further to let her stuff a couple of fingers into her wet pussy. She was not willing to tolerate hot wax on her snatch, but she did keep the area trimmed and neatly shaved. She slid the tip of the vibrator up and down, just between the wet lips of her pussy.

She tapped her clit and her whole body convulsed slightly. She had to admit that she really was pent up. Maybe she should just ask Professor Mercer to throw her a bone. Clearly, his standards weren't as high as she thought.

Just as she started to feel an orgasm building the vibrator sputtered, shook and went still.

"What?!" She almost screamed, before remembering the thinness of the walls. "Not yet! You can't crap out on me right now!"

With wet, slippery fingers she unscrewed the vibrator's plastic case and popped the rechargeable battery out. She dug through her bag, looking for the AA charger where she stored the replacements.

It wasn't there.

She hadn't packed her fucking charger or any spare batteries.

Tossing the useless vibrator into the duffle bag she snarled, slamming her face down into the mattress and muffling a scream of frustration into the soft material. After almost a minute of sustained, angry curses shouted into the mattress she sighed with resignation and, face on the bed and ass in the air, she started to angrily finger herself.

Tiffany hated this trip so much.