“I’m completely happy with my husband,” she said hotly, “and I’m not going to talk about him any more. Let’s change the subject.”
Manuel laughed, as if seeing through her lie. “All right,” he said, “well change the subject. Isn’t it beautiful weather we’re having, Mrs. Brandon? Have you read any interesting books lately?”
Karen laughed. “All right, Manuel,” she said, “enough. I just want to get a tan. I don’t care if we talk or not.”
“Same here,” he said, stretching out beside her on the deck. “I just want to relax. But it looks to me like you’re burning, especially on your shoulders. Let me put on more oil for you.”
Karen didn’t really want him to—it seemed like too familiar a gesture—but she didn’t care to argue about it. The hot sun and the gently rocking boat were hypnotizing her into a half-sleep. She just wanted to close her eyes and rest and not think about anything disagreeable for a while.
“All right,” she said languidly.
She closed her eyes, resting her cheek on her arm, and she heard Manuel opening the bottle of suntan oil and rubbing some onto his hands. Then he touched her. It was only her shoulder, an innocent enough place, but he’d never touched her before except for that mocking stolen kiss in the corridor. Now his touch affected her like electricity. She felt a surge of excitement, a blast of hot juice from her cunt.
Steady, she thought desperately, take it easy…
Manuel rubbed gently, working the oil into her shoulders. He knew what he was doing. She thought he must have learned massage at one time, it was so soothing and well done. She drifted deeper into her stupor, conscious of nothing but the pleasant feel of his hands. He rubbed her thoroughly all over her shoulders and then moved lower.
Something told Karen that she ought to ask him to stop now, that he shouldn’t touch her anywhere else, but she felt so languid and sleepy, she couldn’t even work up the energy to speak. Besides, his massage felt, so nice… He was working on her back muscles now, rubbing in the oil, making her feel so good.
“I’ll undo this strap, get it out of the way,” he said casually.
“Umm-hmm,” Karen replied drowsily, hardly knowing what he was talking about.
Dimly she felt him untying the singe slender strap that held on her bikini top. The two ends slithered down her sides and fell onto the towel. Well, no matter, she wasn’t going to roll over and expose her tits. She sighed with pleasure as Manuel went on rubbing her back.
Time passed, she didn’t know how long, and suddenly she felt his hands on the upper roundness of her butt, just above her bikini bottom. He was still working briskly, professionally, oiling her up, but she sensed that his hands were creeping lower and lower. Again she felt she ought to say something, tell him to stop—and again she somehow couldn’t bring herself to speak.
His fingers darted under her bikini panties, in and out, part of the massage—and yet somehow not a massage. He was rubbing and squeezing the rounds of her ass. Karen’s heart thudded, and her eager pussy glowed red-hot. It excited her hugely to have him touch her there, even though she knew it was wrong. Sticky cunt juice began to soak the crotch of her bikini. She couldn’t stop that helpless creaming…
She felt him inching down her panties, gradually exposing her pert round butt as he worked. “You never tan yourself here?” he chuckled. “How modest.”
“I-I never have the chance,” she said. “There aren’t many places where you can sun yourself naked.”
“You can do it here,” Manuel said. “Harry won’t mind.”
And without waiting to hear her answer, he quickly untied the two bows which held on her bikini panties. She felt him pulling the garment away from her ass, exposing her white round butt. She blushed furiously and kept her eyes closed, as if in that way he wouldn’t see her. But of course he did see…
“We’ll get you tan here,” he said encouragingly. “You should be the same color all over.”
He started rubbing oil into her ass. Karen knew this was definitely going too far and that she should put a stop to it, but her strange lack of energy kept her from speaking. Besides, she really enjoyed his massage. He cupped the pert globes of her butt in his strong young hands and squeezed, molded and rubbed. It felt wonderful—though she was careful to keep her legs tight together, giving him no glimpse of her pussy.
His busy fingers moved even lower, into the crease of her ass—but he didn’t go too far. She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed when he merely darted in a finger, spread a little oil, and moved on. She felt a teasing touch, a quick rimming of her asshole—and then he was moving on to massage her legs. She gave a deep long sigh.
It was just as well. She was glad he hadn’t gone too far. She’d have had to tell him to stop, they would have argued, it would have been unpleasant. No, it was just as well that he hadn’t touched her between her legs. Except that she was dying for it, dammit! She could easily imagine how great it would feel to have him rub her pussy…
And then she felt his hands returning, working back up her legs, coming closer and closer to her steaming crotch. She went tense and hot, wondering how far he’d go. His strong hands worked her outer thighs, then the tender inner portion, working steadily upward till his fingers were only an inch from her fine golden pussy hairs. Her heart pounded with excitement and lust.
Then she felt just the tiniest fuck of a finger against her swollen moist pussy lips. He was testing her, seeing if she’d let him touch her there. It happened a few more times, brief touches that seemed almost like accidents, split-second contacts between fingers and pussy. It made her terrifically excited.
Say something, she told herself sternly. Tell him to stop.
But somehow she seemed speechless, and she just lay there with her eyes closed as Manuel finally brought his hand to rest firmly against her blazing wet snatch.
He held her whole soaked swollen pussy in his hand, pressing down on it, letting her cream helplessly against his palm. Then he slipped a finger between the furry fat lips of her mons and touched the tiny red shaft of her clit. Pleasure blinded her, almost made her cry aloud. His finger moved gently up and down over her tender clit, and it felt fantastically good. She creamed a great gush of juice into his hand.
But of course she couldn’t let him go on touching her there. It was definitely going too far, wasn’t even remotely necessary. She was a married woman, shouldn’t be letting a man caress her clit and touch her naked pussy. Yes, this outrageous pleasure had to stop…
“That’s enough, Manuel,” she said briskly, starting to get up. “Please, don’t touch me there.”
He withdrew his hand from her crotch—to both her relief and frustration—and then suddenly grabbed her and rolled her over onto her back. It happened so fast and so expertly that she didn’t have time to fight back. Since he’d undone all the straps on her bikini, the garment simply fell away, leaving her stark naked. Manuel crouched over her, gawking hungrily at her sleek blonde body.
“Beautiful,” he sighed, “even more beautiful than I’d imagined.”
Karen blushed scarlet. “Manuel,” she said angrily, “how dare you? Please, let me up now. I’m going below and—HEY!”
The dark-eyed steward simply lay down on her, pinning her with his superior weight. He kissed her, muffling her cries of protest, and Karen felt herself slipping into dangerous dizzy lust. Manuel’s slick tongue crept into her mouth, and she let it stay there, tickling her tongue. The feel of his body was driving her wild…