Message-ID: <7345eli$9803291643@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: woodsmok@gte.net (MC Woodsmoke)
Subject: {ASSM} The Bluffs by MC Woodsmoke&Kristen (MF cons) Spring Break Orgy
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Auth: C10984151998CBD945918491
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6fkqju$2e1$1@gte1.gte.net>




  Disclaimer :  Read No Further If You Are Under The Age Of 
18  Or If You Are Offended By Graphic Descriptions Of 
Sexual Activity.  All Characters, Situations, And Locations 
Are Purely Fictional.  Mind control is fictional, any 
attempt to dominate a real person in this manner would be 
sick and perverted.  Remember it's just fiction.

  Archiving And Reposting Permitted Only If The Complete, 
Unaltered File, Including This Disclaimer, Is Maintained, 
and Use is NOT for Profit.  Written 08/97 By MC Woodsmoke
and Kristen78.  Send Email to woodsmok@gte.net  
COPYRIGHT © 1997, MC Woodsmoke   All rights reserved.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Malinov's Spring Break Authors Workshop:

The Bluffs - Cold Hands, Warm Heart
By Woodsmoke  -  with a little bit from Kristen

   I was born and raised in Northern Maine.  Not a completely evil
place to grow up, but not the warm and tropical side of the world
either.  One of my clearest childhood memories is of swimming as a
boy of seven or eight in the lake beside my families camp.  The Lake
was spring fed.  That means it was cold.  Even on the hottest day of
the summer the water temperature rarely crawled above fifty degrees
Fahrenheit.  The lake was frozen from early November till late May
sometimes.  Not a long swimming season, but we made the most of it
being kids with no cares.  My mother obviously knew nothing about
Pneumonia because I didn't get it every time I went swimming despite
her dire warnings.

   Blustering with a child's bravery we could leap off the wharf into
the water.  Breaching like miniature whales we'd pop to the surface
and assure our mates that the water wasn't "TOO" cold, even as we
shivered.  Swimming as much to get somewhere as to move slowing
blood, we would race out to the float and drag ourselves out of the
water into the warmer air.   Then the frenetic energy of childhood
forced us to launch ourselves again and again into the cold dark
water.  Cannonball contests; diving contests; games of water tag, or
just treading water and Bullshitting each other.  We stuck it out till
our lips turned blue and our muscles ached with a fatigue that even
youth eventually couldn't recover from.  The action ended with a
slower race back to the wharf.  It was a task to drag yourself up the
ladder.  We'd grab towels and nonchalantly dry ourselves, as if we
didn't feel the wind turning each drop of water on our bodies into a
stinging icy needle.  Then it was time to eat or play, but always with
the promise that we would swim again later.

   Later was never far away back then.

   ......And that was my experience with water growing up.  I don't
think I was in a heated pool until I was in my late teens, early
twenties.  I remember at the time, that I thought it was nice having
bath water to swim in, but it definitely didn't feel natural.

   So how did I end up in a tropical paradise, swimming in blood
warm water?

   I accepted an invitation from Kasha Malinov to an Erotic Writers
Convention.  It was all prearranged to be held on a Cruise ship
departing for the beautiful Pacific Ocean from some spot in Mexico.
I grabbed my wife and we hit the open sea with as inept a crew of
Naval hands as low bid purchasing has ever provided.  The company
of fellow erotic authors was great though and made up for the
disconcerting feeling that the Three Stooges were running this Ocean
Liner.  Ninety-five percent of us got toasted the first night.  I dimly
remember making love to my wife on the bow of the boat.  She was
yelling "Go for the Oscar Leo", while I was doing my best imitation
of a maddened iceberg trying to make ice cream.

   I have a blurry recollection that hangover remedies were in great
demand the next afternoon.

   During dinner the second night there was a bit of a fire somewhere
below decks.  Many of us were just recovering from our excesses of
the night before.  Being an imaginative group, we decided the ship
was going down and hit the ocean and the lifeboats in a rush.  My
wife did a respectable impression of 'The Unsinkable Molly Brown",
she gave up her fur coat which earned her points in her boat, as it was
nearly all she was wearing.  Just to make sure that one of us lived she
put us in separate lifeboats.  I'm sure it was just an oversight on her
part but mine turned out to be sinking from numerous leaks.  With
some creative patching we kept it afloat.

   * NOTE to SELF: Wadded up underwear makes great caulking.  *

   Before we could even begin to regret our decision to 'abandon
'Wreck' the fire was out and the S.S. Sybarus had sailed off without
us.  All was bleak until some smart widget figured out our actual
location and we found we were only a few miles from a Tropical
Island that had been in Lord Malinov's family for generations.  Two
hours and some hefty blisters later we ground the boat up on a white
sand beach.

   As a group of individuals with no obvious leader, everyone struck
out on their own to look for staples (Water, Food, Shelter,
Lubricants, Condoms, Whips, Creams, Shackles, Word Processors,
Satellite Dishes... yadda yadda.   We were an eclectic group.).

   My wife joined a group of women that had some ideas about
running a new Utopia.  Men would do all the work and woman
would lay around drinking coconut rum, being fed melon slices and
getting great tans while dispensing female wisdom, to their less
intelligent counterparts with the "Y" chromosomes.  My wife being
more of a surrealist than a realist, was willing to give this
plan a chance.

   I told her that was fine with me, but to watch out for crabs and
butch women with evil design on her lusty carcass.  She told me to
mind my own business as it was my fault we were in this mess to
begin with.  I was in the doghouse.  She was obviously playing the
field to prove some point.  She has always chosen her lovers with
care and insight so I wasn't too worried.  I trudged off determined
to find something to help me win my way back into her affections.
Failing that I hoped to find one of those damn cheerleaders and see
if she could swim face down underwater with all the artificial
filler in her breasts.

   A full day of searching left me a little morose.  I hadn't seen
the cheerleaders and I'd already heard rumors that my wife was
hanging around with erotic authors of dubious morals such as Kim
and Taria.

   Oh sure Kim is engaged but that wouldn't stop her from reminding
my wife in overly intimate ways that she only needs me for lawn
maintenance.

   One good thing did happen to me.

   I met Kristen.  I had been trying to talk to her since boarding
the ship, but never seemed to find the right opportunity. From
reading some of her stories I had formed an impression of her in
my imagination which was pleasantly confirmed when someone had
pointed her out to me on our first day.

  She had the most original opening line I'd ever heard from a woman
on first acquaintance.  "Come with me.  I want to see how long you
can hold your breath!".

   That summed up  Kristen.  Very direct.  Going somewhere and sure
that you would come along if you knew what was good for you.  She
had strong opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them.  She had an
intelligent mind and wasn't afraid to use it.  I don't know exactly
what made me agree to do as she asked.  I don't normally respond
well to aggressive women, who automatically assume they know what
is 'right' for me.

   * NOTE to SELF: The above statement doesn't apply to my Love.
Demure or aggressive, she is perfect in every aspect, and she has
proven to me that she doesn't just 'think' she knows what's 'right'
for me!  *

   It may have been boredom.  It may have been sexual interest.  I
wasn't totally oblivious to the fact that men and women were pairing
off and exploring Eros day and night, while I was learning the
wonders of walking beaches and searching for salvage, food and
water.

   Like many of the women on the island Kristen hadn't had time to
pick and choose her apparel.  Her long blonde hair was frizzy under
its homemade palm frond hat.  The dress she had worn to the S. S.
Sybarus' last dinner hadn't survived her jump into the Pacific.  Her
rather athletic tanned body was clad in what looked like the black
spandex shorts of an aerobics outfit and a lacy lavender bra. Re-
gardless of her dress, I wouldn't have characterized her as anything
but generally pretty.  Unlike some of the other knockout women who
were walking around nude, or in thongs and micro bikinis, she was
dressed and looked nearly normal.

   If I wasn't drooling and trying to hide an erection, I don't think
it shocked her.  I doubt she found anything terribly attractive about
me in my stained green T-shirt and recently torn Jean shorts.

   Without watching too closely where exactly we were going, I
followed her through the jungle.

   * Okay so I was watching her ass.  It was a very nice ass and it
deserved to be watched! *

   We eventually came out of the jungle again on a section of the
island I had never seen before.  Where most of the shoreline was soft
white sand beach, this area was lousy with rocky cliffs and pounding 
surf.

   Kristen gave me a sidelong glance acknowledging only that I had
successfully followed her without killing myself or getting lost.
She tossed her homemade chapeau into the brush.  Stepping up onto a
rocky outcrop she executed a perfect swan dive into the ocean thirty
feet below.

   *  Nice!   The Belgian judge gave her a 5.89 and a SCHWING!!!! *

   "Come on!  Get down here!" she yelled. I could hardly hear her
high pitched voice over the rushing surf.

   Not to be outdone, I performed a perfect Indian Chief Cannonball.
I felt the water try to slap my balls into my chest so my elation at
my fine execution and choice of dives was short lived.

   Kristen treaded water over to my position.  She raised an eyebrow
that spoke volumes.  She didn't even comment as I repeatedly swallowed
trying to dispel that feeling that something was lodged in my throat
that didn't belong there.

   "I meant to do that."

   "Right.  So how long can you hold your breath?"

   "Haven't we had this conversation already?"

   "Regardless can you reach the bottom here?"

   I decided that if she was going to be all cold and technical about
this that I could match her point for point.

   "I can surface dive about thirty five feet.  Deeper if I have a
weight. And before you ask, I can hold my breath for about two
minutes while swimming, longer if I don't have to exert myself."  I
ducked a wave and when I resurfaced I was close enough to Kristen to
feel her motions in the warm salty water.

   "Now what are we doing here?"

   "Come over here" she said as she swam away from we.  She took
up a position just to the left of a major rock formation.  It should
have been posted with a sign that said "I will fillet you like a fish
if you touch me!".  She was treading furiously to maintain her position
and not allow herself to be slammed against the rock formation or the
cliff face with each incoming wave.

   * Damn it!  Is she ever just going to answer one of my questions? *

   I tried to ignore the way her blonde hair was floating around her.
It was very sexy looking.

   Diving under an incoming wave I stroked to her position
underwater and resurfaced again in her face.  I didn't mention how
good she looked below the water line.

   "Soooo???   Come here often?" I offered.

   "What do you feel?"

   "Most things other guys feel.  I have my ticklish spots though
so don't get any ideas."

   "No.  No.  What do you feel in the water?"

   "Hmmmm!  Well now that you mention it... it's COLD!"

   "Taste it"

   I let her see me slurp up some sea water and swish it around in my
mouth.  I was ready to spit it out when I realized that the water in
my mouth didn't taste much like sea water at all.  Instead of spitting
I let the water slowly enter my throat and I swallowed a bit.

   "It's not fresh but it's damn close" was my brilliant observation
of what she had obviously discovered already.

   Pointing to the cliff face she indicated a man made marking that
you'd miss if you weren't exactly where we were and looking for it. It
was an arrow pointing straight down the face.  Beside the arrow was
a column of characters.

D 20
I 15
U 15

   Kristen didn't wait this time for me to puzzle out the obvious.
"There is a fresh water underground stream or river that exits the
cliff face about 20 feet below that arrow.  I figure if you help me
go in 15 feet and then up 15 feet we just may find ourselves
somebody's old hidey hole.  Besides the fresh water there may be
some other things in there that we could use.  In case your wondering
this is already low tide and that cliff face is honey combed with
caves."

   I hadn't been wondering that.

   I had been wondering if she was just going to use me to check for
traps, Barracuda, deadly cross currents or any number of other
methods for getting my wife that whopper Life insurance check she'd
always wanted.

   "What do you say" she smiled "want to be my swimming buddy for
this little adventure?"

   It was probably just the cooler water but I noticed her nipples
were hard.  Her eyes were sparkling in a very nice way.  She was
also challenging me to take the chance and see what we would see.
Pushing all my male ego buttons like a pro.  Her motions to maintain
her position in the water seemed to be leading to longer and more
intimate incidental contacts with my body.

   I could have made a decision based on logic.  I could have told
her to wait till we could come back some other day.  On that day we
would have full scuba gear and the proper safety equipment for
underwater exploring.

   Before I could dazzle her with my logic she applied her own
coercion.  The next time she ducked under a wave she considerately
repositioned my erection through my jeans so it wasn't bent at such
a painful angle.

   We decided to give it a try.

   I made three preliminary attempts on the underwater tunnel before
I'd let Kristen try and follow me.  The force of the underground
stream was only moderate.  The water was chilly but livable.  I
didn't find any traps, tight spots or dead ends.  On the third
attempt I surfaced in a dark cavern.  Two narrow beams of sunlight
from somewhere high above did little to illuminate its detail.  Within
fifteen minutes I had returned with Kristen.  She broke the surface
and I quickly popped up beside her.

   "Here you go!"

   With a hand on her firm little ass I helped her up and out of the
rock rimmed pool we had arrived in.  I pulled myself up and out and
took stock of the situation.  We were in a medium sized cavern, about
sixty feet across.  We had arrived on one side of the circular area.
The air was cold, almost frigid causing goose bumps to form on my skin.
Our side of the circle was slippery smooth solid rock.  It looked like
blobs of glistening marble beneath our feet.  The center of the room
was a swiftly flowing stream of turbulent water that entered the cave
at our right and exited in a rush, into a rock wall to the left.  On
the other side of this stream was a raised sandy area, like an indoor
beach.  Two sunbeams arched down from the roof high above to make warm
puddles of light in the sand.  The beams gave off just enough ambient
light to allow us to see what looked like a crude tent against the other
wall.

   The cold of the rock beneath our feet was traveling up my legs, and
I could see that Kristen was feeling it too.  I didn't like the looks
of that stream though.  I could tell from Kristen's body language and
gaze that she wasn't going to be happy till we had explored the other
half of the cave.  Getting low, nearly crawling I started to move
towards the stream on the greasy smooth rock face.  I was looking for
a safe way to cross.  Silly me!

   I still managed to lose my balance and fall on my butt.

   "Graceful." Kristen said from where she was peering intently at the
boiling water of the stream.  I could tell that I wasn't the center of
her attention.

   "Oooo Thankee sai Mistress, your servant is only glad he can
entertain."

   "If it works for you go with it." she replied in a dry tone.

   "I'm going across" she announced with decisiveness.  "Do you see
that rock, about mid stream that the water is breaking around.  I'm
going to jump and launch for the other side from that.  I think I can
clear it."

   Raising up my hands in a "Hold It" gesture I started to protest.
I'm sure she would have given my opinion and concerns a great deal of
consideration, but she obviously didn't see or hear me in her rush to
explore.  Like a sure footed gazelle she ran across the rocks and leapt
into the air.  For a moment she was poised like a ballerina, one foot
back the other forward questing for its landing point.  Then with a
tiny splash her front foot was down on its rocky perch, her back leg
swept forward and up and she was launching herself towards the far
shore.

   She almost made it.

   The midpoint rock tilted just a little. It wasn't solid. It threw
off the second half of her hop.  She landed with a splash in water up
to her knees.  She had just started to give me a triumphant yell and
arm pump when her feet shot out from under her.

   In a moment she was in the center of the stream being rolled and
tossed.  She got a mouthful of water and what was probably
supposed to be a "HELP", came out as a "YARGLE".

   Picking a spot below some rocks in the stream I ran and launched
myself in a flat dive.

   * OBSERVATION to SELF:  Really cold water hurts.  It hurts your
skin.  It hurts your eyes.  It hurts you privates and your earlobes
and your brain and your toenails.  It would probably hurt your soul
if it could find it. *

   I managed to spend less than two seconds in the water.  I hit the
surface and nearly discovered anti gravity trying to escape its icy
grip. I can only guess that this water was thirty or less degrees.
Two strong strokes and I was scrambling out and onto the sandy side.

   Kristen repeated her "YARGLE" as I saw her reach the far wall of
the cavern.  Now she was in a life or death struggle to prevent her-
self from being sucked under the wall, through the streams exit pipe.
If the cold didn't kill her, drowning was still a looming possibility.
That exit hole might not lead to air for minutes or might get so narrow
she'd get wedged.

   I ran.

   I cursed.

   She cursed better and with greater range but I could see she was
already tiring.

   Her feet and arms were scrambling for purchase trying to fight the
pressure of the water behind her and the suction of the pipe in front
of her.  Both were trying to whisk her away.

   I did something.  Whether it was brave or stupid only my Wife and
God, in that order, know for sure.

   I jumped back into the water.

   FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.  My balls wished me a happy
life as they retreated into my body promising never to return.

   At six foot one, two hundred twenty pounds I put everything I had
into positioning myself behind Kristen's body.  Stretching out like a
starfish, I let my feet and hands smack into the cavern wall so that
I formed a sheltering dam behind Kristen's body.  Luckily the streams
exit point was smaller than my reach

   I felt like I was getting the hardest fastest ice cold enema in
the world.  Luckily my plan (actually just my unthinking hope) had
worked and reduced the pressure on her enough so that she could
regain some of the ground she had lost.

   The wall was too slick to climb so I offered the only other ladder
in the area.

   "Climb me! Stand on my shoulders and jump to shore!"

   Amazingly enough this worked.  Not perfectly of course.  The cold
had sapped both her strength and her balance.  She stuck her knee in
my left eye socket.  She nearly tore out my hair while trying to
maintain her balance.  Then she decided to use my head as a kick off
point.  Either way, with a jump a splash and two lurches she made it
to the sandy side of the stream.

   She didn't look too steady.  In a quivery voice she assured me she
would find something and be back soon.  She crawled/tottered off.

   I didn't doubt her intention but I recognized that waiting wasn't
really an option.  Cold was beginning to feel like hot.  My fingers
were getting impossible to move.  My heart didn't feel real good.  It
seemed to think stopping or exploding were newly attractive options.

   * Probably needs a checkup.  I wonder how the Wife is doing?
She's probably sleeping with some reviewer, who won't even deign to
read my stuff.  I really loved her.  I used to love those really great
Pastrami Burgers they had down at Maschawietz's...???? *

   To top it all off it was getting really difficult to think. My mind
seemed to be wandering just a tad.

   I forget to mention this earlier.

   We didn't just swim off the wharf when I was a kid.

   Sometimes we'd take our bikes and swim around a dam that was on
our arm of the lake.  It was used to control the lake's level and feed
the local salmon rivers.  The really brave (read stupid) kids played a
game where you swam to the top of the dam above the sluice gate.
The current was strongest there and it felt great to have it rushing
over you.  If you braced your feet against the wall you could let the
water pile up behind your shoulders.  Then you'd balance yourself on
the crest of the wave.  This was great until some adult came along
and told us we'd get killed if the current sucked us under.  We'd all
heard that someone had died there but none of us had met this
mythical dead kid so we weren't 100% sure that he wasn't just
another adult lie.  On the other hand I'd seldom met any dead people
anyway.

   Back to my dilemma.

   I kipped and tucked and let the current slam me horizontally into
the wall just above the exit pipe.  With a little wrangling I got my
feet against the wall and slowly pushed back and out till I was riding
a respectable little reverse bow wave.  The rest was reasonably non
melodramatic.  I worked my way right till I was in the shallows and
then I carefully lumbered out of the water onto the sand like a
wounded water buffalo.

   In this case more like Babe the Blue Ox.  I know I was blue with
chill.  My first concern was Kristen and my second was to find some
heat!  Dying of hypothermia on a Tropical island just seemed too
dumb even for me.  My Wife would probably think up something
diabolical to do with my ashes just to punish me!

   Kristen had solved both problems she was lying in a heap in the
larger of the two pools of sunlight.

   I joined her.

   Correction I stripped off my T-shirt and my shorts and I joined her.

   To be totally honest, I stripped off my clothes, I stripped off her
clothes, and then I put my cold clammy front against her cold clammy
back.

   I don't know how long it took before our teeth stopped chattering
and our breathing changed from stuttering wheezes to normal.  We
were both content to lie there quietly and absorb the sand's heat and
sun's rays.  Occasionally we rolled ourselves like steaks on a grill,
but we never actually broke the contact between our bodies.  We
weren't providing much body heat to each other but the human contact
was somehow just as important at the moment as the need for warmth.

   I suppose it was inevitable.

   I've always enjoyed the feel of cuddling a smaller woman.  By
pressing my hands into the warm sand I was able to heat them to an
almost normal temperature.  I then used them to stroke and massage
Kristen's body to aid the flow of blood to her chilled extremities.

   * Yeah right!  Her breasts probably never would have recovered if
I hadn't been slowly rubbing them this way and that.  Her inner and
outer thighs might never have warmed up without my conscientious
efforts.  I'm almost sure that the spot on her ass where my prick
was resting was doubly glad for the fresh surge of warmth that was
suddenly present.  My traitorous testicles had even decided to make
a reappearance, as long as things seemed safe.  *

   My face was happy to rest against the clean smell of her blonde
tresses.  I thought about this and that as my cock insisted on sapping
all the available warm blood in my body into itself.  I studied the
curve of her neck and the line of her collarbone.  I made slow and
careful tactile exploration of her right breast.

   It was cool, almost cold.  The nipple was erect but very tiny just
barely poking out above her single handful of flesh.  Her areola
though,  were fascinating; they were the shape of an open flower
and had the texture of a cats tongue. I don't think I've ever enjoyed
feeling a woman's breasts and nipples more than at that moment.
The texture and feel of a taut cold breast is something to be
experienced.  It is unique.  It doesn't compare to a warm breast. It
almost demands that your lips destroy its cool perfection by kissing,
licking and bringing heat to them. And Kristen's perfect little
breasts were definitely having an effect on me.

   I think I was waiting for her to make the first move. Realization
struck that I had been touching her with her silent permission for
over ten minutes.  Moving straight to plan B I kissed her.

   Our lips were cold, but not for long.  The first touch of warm
tongue to warm tongue erased any worries that either of us might not
be interested in sharing an intimate moment.

   Rolling to her back Kristen smiled at me, looking searchingly into
my eyes.  She gave me every queue she could to encourage my ardor.

   I didn't need much.

   I dedicated myself then and there to go to any length to bringing her 
pleasure and warmth in as an abundant supply as possible.

   Gentle kisses became panting tongue twining passion.  Moving
slowly down her body I explored her neck like a vampire seeking the
perfect point to bequeath my dark gift.  My mouth searched and
found a spot where I could feel the pulse of her heating blood,
pumping almost fiercely from heart to mind. She began to make
little noises deep in her throat. I looked up at her for a moment to
make sure she wasn't in some kind of pain. But from the look on
her face I knew if she was experiencing any pain, she wouldn't
want it to stop just then.

As if to confirm that Kristen peevishly reached for my face and
moaned softly as she pushed my mouth against a nipple for
more attention.

   I spent endless minutes in careful oral homage to her breasts. Her
fingers in my hair kept urging me on.  Her fingernails tapped a beat
on my shoulders as my kisses made heat blossom where chills had
seemed to be permanently installed.  Tiny shivers of cold and arousal
passed through her body as my teeth nipped, my tongue darted, and
my lips and breath replaced one ache with another.

   The swell of her belly was a sweet resting place for my cheek. Sub-
consciously I remembered that Kristen was a skater, and momentarily
stopped to look at her flat stomach, and watch the muscles ripple
as I touched her just above her sweet vee of blonde pubic hair. As
if a dam was breaking my hands made themselves busy touching
and exploring every inch of her skin.

   Her belly button was an Insy and a delightful place to drill my
tongue.  Kristen's groan was a cross between a giggle at my tickling
and a moan of need for what she knew must come soon.

   She spread her legs for me and silently welcomed my advances.

   Laying my mouth to her pleasure center I let my breath warm the
area.

   I lost myself in my task.

   My lips and cheeks were wet with her secretions, my tongue was
sliding in and out of her tight opening as fast as I could make it
move. The feeling of her warm nether lips being forced open by my
tongue was incredible. Then I felt her tugging me by the ears into
another position.  I wiped the evidence of her arousal from my goatee
as I came up to sit on my heels.

   "Fuck me now...please...god I'm sooo horny!" she nearly hissed.

   "Let's just make sure I don't have any nasty sand on my prick, shall
we?  It could gum up the works. "

   "Can't let that happen!" she agreed with a smile.

   Her fingers were soon exploring my prick and brushing it clean. I
felt her smooth fingers wrap around my member and squeeze it. Then I
almost jumped out of my skin when I felt lovely Kristen's wet tongue
as she moved onto all fours over me. She began licking and
caressing the sides of it with the tip of her tongue.  The delicious
warmth of her mouth immediately removed any remaining chill from
my body.  The muscles of my ass battled each other in a clenching
and releasing quiver that matched my shaky groans of appreciation
at her oral skills. When she started to deep throat me, taking me all
the way in, faster and faster, I had to stop the little vixen before
she prematurely finished me off.

   I couldn't wait any longer and I don't think she could either.

   "Bottom, Top, Kneeling??" I made it a question giving her the
option of choosing her favorite position whatever it was.

   "Yessss" was her only reply as she fell to her back raising and
spreading her wonderful legs readying herself for me, as she drew
my tip into her love-notch.

   * Damn I hope I'm up to this * was my only  thought before
merging with her beautiful body in a uniquely intimate sexual dance.

   She came in each position, sometimes twice.  I discovered, once
again, the wonder that is a female of the species  who pursues her
own, and her partner's pleasure with equal relish.  I feel blessed each
time I find such a special individual.  Making love to them is so
fulfilling and involving that I can seldom cum.  This may sound strange,
but I've never found it so.  It feels like heaven during the act of
coitus. It is totally satisfying on every mental level and in every
physical way but that last one.  I sometimes wonder if I'm either a
mutant or otherwise broken in some way.  Perhaps other men experience
this and just don't talk about it.

   Sitting again on the sand I held her within my arms gently kissing
her face and exploring every facet of her glorious vulnerable state
with my eyes.

   Kristen was of course curious as to my lack of final delivery, despite
my still rampant state.

   "Did I do something wrong?"

   * I could write a book trying to explain myself or just say  'No' *

   "No.  It's me.  Don't worry about it.  You were wonderful."

   * Amazingly few women question this answer.  It's the equivalent
of men never questioning their performance when a woman tells them
they were wonderful. *

   Hauling our naked butts up from the sand we finally found the
energy to go and explore the tent like structure we had first seen from
the other side of the cavern.

   It wasn't a tent it was a tarp.

   The tarp covered a tunnel that led into the mountain.  Just behind it
were crates and crates full of tools, canned food and liquor, supplies,
clothing, medicines and two small chests.  It looked like this cavern
had once been a secret supply dump.  It wasn't clear if they had been
mercenaries, drugs dealers, smugglers or thieves.  It was clear that
they hadn't returned to this location in years.

   I gave Kristen first choice of chests with a wave.  She indicated the
larger box, which proved she was back to her old self.  With a pickax
I broke off the padlock and presented her with a box full of incredible
diamond jewelry, and gold bars marked with Kanji Symbols.  My
chest contained a mass of necklaces with millions of dollars worth of
sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and opals.

   * NOTE to SELF: Not a bad haul for a single afternoon's work. *

   We wandered up the tunnel each with a warm glow, some wet
clothing, and a chest in hand.  With a machete I hacked down vines
and plants that had grown to hide the exit/entrance into the jungle.
The hidden crack in the mountain's side was just yards from where we
had first jumped into the water, but totally invisible from the path.

   Reaching into the treasure chest I carried, Kristen picked up a
necklace and matching earrings of sparkling sapphires burning with
blue flame.

   "Your wife will forgive you for landing her here if you give her
these." she said.

   "You know my wife?".

   "Ummm hmmm but I think she misheard my question when I asked
if she knew anyone that could hold it.  I was definitely talking about
'breath' and she may have been thinking of something else.  She
pointed you out to me and assured me that 'you' were the man for the
job."

    * That's why I love my wife.  She's always looking out for me. *

THE END:



-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |