I’ve been wanting to share this torrid little adventure of mine for ages, in the hope that it makes you, lovely reader, as wet or as hard as does my own reading of the wonderful Lush stories.
Firstly, a little presentation. My name is Regina (yes I know, I’ve heard it all before! Thanks parents, for conceiving me whilst on holiday in Saskatchewan). I’m a 23 year old student of psychology, a blond bombshell standing at 5 feet 3 inches and 103 pounds dripping wet. Doesn’t stop me having a juicy upper deck and a booty box that can make even the most faithful of husbands question the reason for his spontaneous, pant-deforming erection when I squirm my way through his line of sight!
I am lucky enough to possess an innocent demeanour that is particularly attractive to red-blooded men (horny women too, thank heavens!), making them wonder how such an angelic face can be stuck onto such a small frame with such big lady-bumps, must be a real slut in bed, etc.
Anyway, this particular adventure dates from the summer when I was just 18 years old. We had gone off camping with my sister, her current beau, his brother and of course, my good self. I was seeing someone at the time but here in France, holiday sex doesn’t count as cheating. As you can imagine, I found myself sharing a tent with the brother of my sister’s current cock: 26 years old and admittedly, extremely easy on the eyes!
Campsites are not particularly recognized for facilitating private moments of intimacy and so (being a bit of a squealer when the fires are stoked), I expected nothing from my holidays other than a decent tan and possibly a little short-term liver damage from the local red grape juice. However, from the get-go, Fabien (my tent buddy), teased me gently; throwing me in the pool, cracking jokes at night in the tent and other such puerile holiday behaviour. This soon evolved into inadvertent thigh stroking, elbow-to-breast pressing and general little signs designed to give your pussy a mind of her own, independent of the sensible one lodged in your cranial cavity.
Things really developed towards the end of our first week, when his constant teasing and attention-paying started to weaken my resolve. I was seeing him all day long in tight little swim trunks and my pussy brain was telling me that she wanted to use her internal ruler to measure the meaty bump permanently on display. I just needed to find a place and an opportunity where my sister couldn’t catch us in flagrant délit.
Coming back from the beach at the start of the second week, I stopped off to rinse myself at the communal showers. Fabien was following behind. He watched me enter a cubicle and caught the door as it closed. I feigned shock, asking him what he thought that he was doing. He made it perfectly clear that, after a week of these little games, he was deserving of a reward.
I answered him with my best, most angelic smile and started removing the few clothes I had on. Fabien approached me and massaged my butt cheeks, pulling them apart with such determination that the wet ‘plop’ of my pussy lips parting gave away my own, thinly veiled hunger. His lips kissed their way languorously down my neck, eventually reaching my swelling breasts. He cupped one of them with one hand and explored gently between my legs with the other.
He started to nibble on my erect nipples, licking and sucking them but I wanted infernal, not maternal. My pussy had been waiting far too long and she had a serious leak! I craved his tongue down there and fast. I needed eating hard and deep, it was no longer a choice but a medical emergency!
He continued running his fingers over my mound, finding the source of my nectar and plunging a long finger into it whilst leaving his thumb windscreen-washing my seriously engorged clitty. My hands in his tousled hair made it clear where his face belonged right now. I guided him to my sopping cunt, I wanted him to taste my hunger, to drink from me, lick me, bite me, pull me, suck me, fuck me!
At last, his tongue arrived at its destination and he started lapping at my rivers of girly juice.
He picked me up and plunked me on a sink, ripping my bikini bottoms off and down my legs. Much more like it: passion and intent! I wasn’t disappointed. All fired up, there was no holding him back now. His face danced a merry jig over my clitty and swollen labia, his fingers explored, probed, parted and found their way to my tight but, oh-so-cute little butt hole.
I groaned permission and his index took possession of my ass, his thumb my cunt and his lovely fat tongue, everything else lick-able. I was on the edge already. My legs started to shudder as my orgasm welled up from somewhere inside my stomach. I wanted that cock in me now! Reaching down, I caressed the short-deforming lump in his pants and pulled it free.
On my god! Beautiful! Long, fat, hard and veiny. I wanted it and pulled firmly towards the direction of my pussy. He played it over my wide open love-lips, letting his fat cock-head smack against my own mini version. It found the entrance to me and, with a breath-taking push, it was up and deep inside of me. I clamped him in me and savoured the delicious feeling, like being full after a fabulous meal. He started to move rapidly between my legs, ever deeper into my yearning body.
I don’t know what it is about ‘holiday romances’ but, whether you stay together or not, the memories of the fucking always seem more virile than your stay-at-home boyfriend’s efforts. Maybe it's the lack of implied commitment or just that I’m just a slut?
I couldn’t keep my noises down any more. He fucked me on the sink, up against the cubicle wall, on the floor in full view. All the while, I was wailing like a banshee and snarling my aggressive passion for all to hear. He stopped suddenly and pulled out of me with a vaguely offensive noise. Legs held apart by the ankles, he split me with a deft push, giving my cervix an impressive upper-cut (upper-cunt?).
I wanted to feel him do the same to my ass now. I was soaking wet, I could feel it blowing bubbles and it needed some direct attention. I pulled off of him and flipped myself over. Fabien didn’t need telling twice! His cock hit my back entrance, his hands reached under my chin, pulling my head back and he pushed right into me. God that was it, just fuck the shit out of me! The short burst of initial pain passed quickly, replaced by that lovely, I’m-a-dirty-girl feeling that I always get when being spit roast up my butt hole.
Definitely in pure slut mode now, I pushed as many fingers as possible into my gaping cunt and frigged for all I was worth. His powerful thrusts were making me cum; so intense. Wave after wave of liquid pleasure shuddered through me, shaking me like a rag doll. I screamed my orgasm, not really caring any more if sis was about or not.
He pulled out of me, grabbed my head and pushed it towards his throbbing stick. I spat on it like a tart and rolled my lips down over as much of it as I could mouth, looking up into his eyes with my best innocent little girl eyes. That normally does it for any man and Fabien was no different. I felt him swell up, his balls tightening pre-spurt. I circled his scrotum with my hands and pulled straight down, tensing his cock further.
Hot, thick and copious spray after spray of lovely spunk filled my mouth, puffing my cheeks out. Too much to swallow but, from above, I’m told it makes a man feel masculine to see his seed spill out. I finished the corner of my lips with a finger like a good little slut, took a couple of cock slaps to the chin and smiled my innocent smile at him before regaining (unsteadily) my feet. Fabien guided me to the shower cubicle and then left me there so as not to make it any more apparent than was already the case.
We didn’t stop there. We fucked all week, all ways and all places that we could find.
As I said before, a holiday romance but such virile fucking!
Strangely enough, I didn’t keep it going with the stay-at-home boyfriend!
