Page 52 of Passion Island

Dr. Dangerfield gasped as Sin moved back up her body, then lowered his head and kissed her.

“Mmmmm, mmmm . . .” He tasted of heat and pussy and nut, the mixture of their orgasms causing her to kiss him, forcefully, in hungry need, the taste driving her wild.

Dr. Dangerfield, her eyes closed—so caught up in the kiss, his lips, his mouth, his cum-soaked tongue—hadn’t noticed Sin reaching beneath her pillow for another condom, skillfully tearing open its wrapper and then rolling it onto his hard dick until her legs were up over his shoulders and he was thrusting inside of her all over again.

Oh God . . .

Sin.

Sin.

Sin.

Nineteen

There was something magical about this landmass of tropical rainforest and waterfalls, Brenda thought as she untied her sarong and let it flutter down around her ankles. Maybe it was the different colors of greenery in the lush jungle or the colorful reefs, or the whimsical sounds of some of the most exotic birds on the island; or perhaps it was the soothing sound of the waves lapping at the shore; all Brenda knew was, this was a paradise like no other.

And she and Roselle wanted to explore every square inch of island before the end of their stay. Consequently, over the week-and-a-half, she and Roselle had taken it upon themselves to venture out on their own.

Today, they had decided to leave their villa after lunch and meander along one of the island’s many trails. Somehow, three hours later, they’d stumbled upon one of the most breathtaking sights: a watery wonderland.

There were three waterfalls—two small ones on either side of a larger one, while several crystalline lakes tumbled into each other by a series of waterfalls and cascades.

The larger waterfall was shaped like a horseshoe and water fell three-hundred-and-fifty feet down in a straight line, spilling into a pool of turquoise water.

Tiny rainbows could be spotted all around in the mist.

It nearly stole Brenda’s breath.

Almost.

Roselle, being ever so bold, had trumped the view. He’d decided to strip out of his swim trunks and sandals and run around the back of the larger waterfall, instructing her not to move.

And so she didn’t.

Instead, Brenda slowly unhooked her bikini top. And then that too was on the ground.

There was so much sensuality around the exotic island that it was hard not to be aroused. It was difficult not getting caught up in all the sexual energy that floated around them.

And it was even more challenging for Brenda to stand here and watch Roselle stroke himself and not run through the veil of water that separated her from him and leap up on his dick.

But Roselle had insisted she stand there.

Watch.

Play the voyeur while he pleasured himself.

Everything in Brenda ached as Roselle leaned into the wall of rock in back of him and eyed her as she struggled to watch him from the other side of the waterfall, her pussy moistening with every stroke.

Goddamn him.

Brenda didn’t know what was more erotic: watching her naked husband jack off while beads of water slid off his body, or standing out in open view in nothing but her black thong, knowing there was a chance she, no they, could be caught. A chance she was willing to take, knowing how much it

turned her, and Roselle, on.

Roselle felt himself becoming more aroused.

He loved masturbating. Loved the way his dick swelled in his hand. Loved the way his veiny shaft throbbed every time his hand slid up from the base of his dick and then glided over its mushroom-shaped head.

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