Tropical Cock-Tale

 

This is the arousing story of how I cheated on my honeymoon with a complete stranger. 

We had the beautiful celebrant beach wedding at Broome. We were the pampered guests of the idyllic resort which specialised in wedding packages. Our honeymoon bungalow overlooked the Indian Ocean. Dinner was sensational fare with gorgeous tropical cocktails for me and quality beers for Stewart.

I started with an Orgasm and yes, the night would finish with a couple. But my libido was up as I supped on the reliable inhibition break- downer combination of vodka, coffee liqueur, amaretto and a hint of Irish cream.

Stewart was really hitting the international boutique beer range; rather hard though.  I tried to give him a hint of my intentions when I ordered a second cocktail; Sex on the Beach, sounded like a good idea to me, as my body got another good jolt of vodka masked by some scented peach schnapps and the obligatory tang and colour of the orange and cranberry juice.

I had always wanted the romance and had been prepared to wait. Stewie and I had been hooked up for three years and living together for the past six months when he casually suggested we escape wintery Canberra and have a short warm holiday.

But here at dinner I said: “Ease up honey. You have a week to work your way through the beer list”

“Oh sure; just one more Louise,” he said, “I’ve always wanted to try...”and he said that a few times.

I had, had no frickin idea why we had headed straight to the beach instead of the booked resort when we had arrived in the afternoon; however; I got the full proposal; an awesome big ring and an instant beach wedding and had my man. Maybe not as I had dreamed or fantasised it but it was memorable.

Now: Stewie sort of staggered to our bungalow under the illusion he was capable of performing his new matrimonial duties. I saw him strip and slouch across the bed waiting for me to come back from the bathroom; he was looking too much like the famous Barberini, Drunk Satyr for my liking.

I was fully naked as I came out of the ensuite; having prepped my pussy a bit with some quick finger work because Stewie didn’t look like he would last long tonight. Still, I wanted the honeymoon memory; a moment of cock being heaven on earth. Well, we were technically in a stunning entrancing paradise.

Sometimes; hell appears in the boudoir and we are not talking mismatched sex drives.  Stewart and I were in hot sync there. But not tonight of all nights. Stewie was frickin snoring his drunken head off; his legs wantonly splayed and his pecker useless.

I was aroused but now I wasn’t going to be satisfied. I was a discontented sexually frustrated twenty-five-year-old bride.  I thought about jilling myself off; it didn’t sit with the best way to remember my wedding night.

I lay next to my Stewie. I tried to sleep; however, I was pussy restless and God, Stewie was snoring unevenly. I pushed him over on his side; that at least; stopped most of the snoring.

I was then watching the streaks of moonlight on his cute butt for a while before I decided to get up and at least enjoy the water and the moon and the balmy warm night.

The moon was full and its light formed a seeming series of steps across the water. I realised it was Broome’s much vaunted: Staircase of the Moon. It was stunningly natural. I stepped out fully naked onto our bungalow veranda. At least I was engaged with something truly memorable; a flight of liquid stairs leading to the full amber moon. I was momentarily peaceful with myself in the face of nature’s artistry.

I had however; that sense I was being watched. I half- turned. I was. A fully naked man on the veranda of the closest bungalow was watching me not the incredible phenomena of nature.

“You must be Diana,” he states matter of factly; sauntering across the manicured grass, still naked, to join me on my bungalow veranda.

“No,” I blurt out.

He was one hunk of a fine-looking confident guy and if that was his pecker not fully aroused; boy did he have his fair share of packaged goods.

“No; Diana; goddess of the moon, you are stunning; your body is streaked with rays of moonlight.”

Again, I fully processed: we were both naked but didn’t care because he was frickin intriguing and sexually fucking arousing.

I was leaning on the top rail of the veranda and this stranger was behind me. He was pressing his body into me. His cock nuzzling and snuggling between my buttocks. His hands cupping and caressing my quickly stimulated breasts and nipples.

“I need your name. I can’t fuck a stranger; well yes I can; but your name.” I exclaimed quickly.

“Call me Conrad. If you need a name,” he said nonchalantly while tweaking my nipples; making them deliciously sweetly glazed and hard like a maraschino cherry on my favourite Black Pearl cocktail. My pussy yet to be touched was tingly and bubbly like a splash of champagne.

He was now kissing my earlobe.

“I’m...;” but he hushed me; a soft finger over my lips; then exploring in my mouth; his finger playing with my tongue.

“I’ll call you Angel” he said so fucking casually but he had that husky confident mature voice.

He knew what he was doing. I did too as I looked shamefully back over my shoulder to Stewie sleeping.  I touched my beautiful new ring; glittering under the full moon.

Conrad saw my hesitation; saw the ring; the situation; my sleeping partner; so close behind us.

He was however; such a self-assured bastard he went directly now to my pussy with his fingers. I gasped softly; it was the basic give a girl’s private party space any attention and her body will respond.

Geez it felt good; so heavenly badly good; as he slid his fingers through my shaved wetness and felt his way gently inside me. He upped the pace as I needed it. He was attuned to my growing body sway. Steady pressure to start; then intense fingering as I gyrated around his cock now also squeezed between my legs.

I had to suck his dick. He didn’t pressure me. There was no despicable me as I met Conrad’s cock. I had never cheated on Stewie. I rationalised this as a dream like Alice in fucking Wonderland.  Anything was right with a pecker this size. I was sucking and slurping along his length; my fingers gripping his girth and fondling his silky ball pouch.  Mouth and cock enjoying each other. It was beyond the reprehensible on my honeymoon night. Still, I looked side on to Stewie; now rolled over; but sleeping blissfully unaware of my wedding night joy.

Conrad let me take pleasure in working his cock to a glistening hardness under the stars. His satisfaction: the glowing happy look on my face.

He had me leaning back on the veranda rails and was kissing his way down my body.  Kissing my nipples, delving his tongue into my navel, pecking my Mon Venus and then drawing out my labia between his lips. Then easing up my clitty cowl to tease my hard little nub of femjoy.

I was fully engrossed in self pleasure yet I stole another look at my sleeping Stewie above Conrad’s buffeting tongue. God my pleasure seeking as new wife was indefensible; yet it wasn’t; pleasure is pleasure sought in the moment and I was demanding it all. My clitty needed an orgasm and Conrad’s tongue was delivering it right now. My hands gripped the rail behind me as a complete stranger was stroking my clit to its deserved climax with his tongue. I slid into myself; so deep; subterranean ego deep; deeper than the sea behind me. Fuck I came intensely; barely stifling my groans. My head a misty swirl of blissful syrup like blue curacao.

Conrad didn’t give me a chance to think. I didn’t want to think anyway; as he turned me and I held the frame of the opened french doors. He raised one of my legs up and supported it under my thigh and eased his cock into my expectant pussy.

It was the combination I needed on my honeymoon. Hard, filling cock and my soft wet shaping pussy. Bugger Stewie; I was totally unprincipled as I engaged in a great fuck. It was sensational. It was exciting because I was looking straight at Stewart; who nearly snored himself into waking. Wow; the fear of being caught welled up from the pit of my stomach but it didn’t last; it was subsumed in my pussy’s escalating pleasure, the sweet satisfaction of great sex.  Pumping cock and gripping coochie.

“Does immoral you require dessert,” said Conrad so coolly.

I just nodded. I knew what he meant.  I was past impropriety on the veranda of my honeymoon theme decorated bungalow.

He kept leisurely working my happy pussy with his thick cock. But his fingers were readying my anticipating arsehole. He knew his prep work. It was an ordained process of careful manipulations; a mix of copious salvia on his fingers combined with a bastardly sure confidence in teasing and playing with my sensitive tight crack. Conrad had me so relaxed. I knew I was going to always remember this butt fucking.

It was the perfect backdoor invasion. His cock enjoying my puckered rim. On the porch but not through the door. Teasing on the threshold. Fuck my rear canal was ready and he knew to let me take control as I manipulated my tightness to find give for his amazing filling. He knew to stimulate my clitty around its hood to maximise my pleasure. I was constricting his cock in my butthole and delivering Conrad and myself happiness big time.

I was rocking backwards and forwards letting his cock inch in. He was so beautifully patient with his cock inside me. It was paradise.

It was also: wicked, wicked me, in the throes of another great orgasm as I saw Stewart; now, in of, all positions; soundly foetal curled; sleeping sweetly.

Conrad had to cover my mouth to stifle my intense orgasmic moans. He grunted and jerked inside me. I felt the contractions of my sphincter join his shaft’s heaving release inside me.

Boy; did his jizz ooze out of me like a lava flow. It reminded me of coconut cream in a refreshing Pina Colada. My nutmeg hole truly rewarded on my honeymoon.

He held me from behind and got me to look at the moon now detached from it steps. The suave cad knew the importance of the after tenderness.

“Enjoy your married life,” he said with assurance, “But remember to love and share your body as you need.”

I watched his butt walk away; yes, all the way back to his bungalow and disappear inside. My tropical Cock-Tale.

I stared blankly out at the Indian Ocean for a long while; listening to the gentle waves. Who was I? Could I now just go and sleep next to Stewart?

Yes: I don’t fully know why but I was mostly shame free; probably a double orgasm helped. I slept soundly.

Stewart and I had a great honeymoon week: with plenty of good; now married life sex.

About two weeks later I was in a dentist’s waiting room; back in freezing Canberra. It was my regular scale and clean. Forced to choose between business and home maker magazines, while seated waiting; I selected the former for a quick flick.

There was a feature item on new IT businesses; it held no real interest until: one photo of a James ‘Jim’ Lord; Conrad; Lord Jim: I suppose. It got me thinking very hornily and the fact he had offices in the capital got my fingers busy on my mobile.

We never intend to cheat; even once or again. It is however; that we just don’t know the depths of our own sexual Heart of Darkness. Cheater shame put to the sexual sword of desire; in my case; in a dentist’s waiting room.

I did the business directory search on my phone; found his direct business email and asked to meet next time he was in town; saying; I need to share my body; please include dessert.

I signed off as; Angel.