Page 76 of Triple Threat

She felt like heaven, even better than before.

I kissed her, and then I felt her hands on my back. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me in, and it was almost a completely new sensation.

Even after what I had done to her, after she’d had Roan and his attentions, she still wanted me. This wasn’t the embrace of an escort with expensive manicured fingernails and top shelf shoes. This was my Sadie, and she was breathing against my cheek, moaning in my ear. This was real.

This was real.

I felt a tightness in my chest.

I looked into her deep brown eyes, eyelids fluttering lazily, and the tight feeling became more intense. Was this…? No. It wasn’t that. I didn’t deserve that, to feel that from someone else.

“Kiss me, kiss me, Kyle, please?” she whispered and lifted her lips to mine.

I kissed her.

I came.

She moaned into my mouth, and her kiss was hungry. I felt like I was vibrating, like a balloon with a hole poked in it. Instead of air spewing out of me, it was cum and a tension I didn’t know I was holding.

“I think I have sand in my ass.” She laughed after a few minutes. “And I might need a shower now.” I nodded and eased off of her. She pulled her bathing suit back up and dusted herself off. Sadie put her hands on her knees, adjusted her sunglasses, and looked around. “So that was sex on the beach?”

“Sand and all, yes,”

“Better than the mile-high club?”

I laughed. “I would have to say yes,” I said. “We can rinse off and head to the dining pavilion. See what the fishermen caught this morning.” She nodded, and we slowly surrendered our spot on the sand to wander back to the hut. Sadie stripped out of her bathing suit and took a quick rinse in the mock shower. She complained that the showers at the house were better, but I told her the view here was better. It took her a moment to realize that I could see her and was watching her rinse off.

With a grin on my face.

* * *

Roan would have been impressedby the size of the swordfish laid out on the banquet table; the array of fresh fruit around it was artistic. The drinks were flowing generously, lighter fare, mostly wine. Neither of us were especially sophisticated wine drinkers, Sadie preferred the sweeter, and none of it really appealed to me.

“This is beautiful,” Sadie murmured, looking at the sun setting, and the stars peeking out. “All of it,” she leaned forward and braced her head in her hands and looked a little… off.

“You know, we spent a lot of time outside today, like all day,” I said. She smiled and nodded. “If you’re feeling a little lightheaded, you might be dehydrated. You doing okay?”

“Feeling a little woozy, I don’t know…” she murmured. I nodded.

“There’s bottled water in the room. If you want to head back, have some water and a lie down, I’ll bring you a couple of Aspirin and I can find us something to pass the evening,” I said.

“Oh,” she asked. “What do you have in mind?”

“You liked those half-assed Moscow Mules on the plane, I think you might like a drink called a dark and stormy. It’s made with some of the same ingredients, but I think you might like it better.”

“Sounds good, I’d like to try that.” She stood up and stretched, and from where I was sitting her tits were perfectly illuminated by the last light of the dying sun through one of her silky dresses. It was fleeting and oddly profound.

“Thank you,” I hesitated. “For everything.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking over my face worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay. I’m here with you. Let me go get a few things from the dispensary and I’ll be right there.” She smiled and slowly turned to walk away. I had to appreciate her ass as she walked. I took a deep breath and let out a sigh. There went my Shady.

The hotel dispensary wasn’t far from the pavilion, and there were a few people milling in the area in front of it, mostly locals; a few looked like employees. I picked up a few bottles that would be useful for enjoying the evening, a few basic snacks, and a small bottle of lube. That was always useful, especially considering some of the things I had in mind for later.

“If it isn’t Carl Winthrop,” a man said, in a surprisingly deep baritone. I turned casually, but my blood had turned to ice. Winthrop was an old alias, almost three years retired, and no one should remember that name.

“Sorry, you have the wrong person,” I said. He was huge, a brick wall of a human being, thick muscled arms, broad chest, gold teeth gleaming in his predator grin, and dreadlocks hanging down past his shoulders.

---