My wife and I have taken a small cottage at the shore for several years now, usually towards the end of summer.
I'm a man of modest means, but this is something we really look forward to, and thoroughly enjoy, it gives our year before meaning, and the year after plenty to talk about.
My wife likes to sit on the beach, and I like to walk or cycle around the back roads. I'll find my way to her on the beach around four, we'll pack up her beach gear, and find somewhere to eat.
When her son got married and they didn't have enough money for a honeymoon, the timing happened to be just about right for us, so we got a bigger house at the beach and invited them to stay.
The girl was pleasant, she was a good fit for him, she obviously adored him, but she didn't seem very smart. She knew nothing about politics, didn't know history, philosophy, art. She was rather dull company at dinner.
But what she lacked in intelligence she made up for in looks - she was utterly beguilingly beautiful. She walked in to a room and had every one, man or woman, eager to please, for a flash of her smile and a glance from her emotive eyes. She radiated warmth, tenderness, love. This wasn't a base attraction, it wasn't a sexual lust, but a pure need to please her, to have her acknowledge your presence on this earth.
I saw it everywhere we went, people falling over themselves to accomodate her every wish, to make her feel welcome, to make her feel special so that they in return would feel special for making her happy.
My wife seemed overly taken with her, so much so that she paid little attention to me, which was a saving grace, for, although I say that the feeling wasn't of lust, the moment I saw the girl in a bikini, languidly laid across a beach towel, her skin as smooth as cream, and the color of coffee, I admit my loins protested loudly and urgently.
Her beauty was all consuming.
My only solution was to stay away, lest I reveal the treachery my brain was conceiving.
I woke later, let them breakfast and be off to the beach before I rose, strayed further afield than I really felt comfortable with, just to take longer to get back. I wasn't missed.
I could survive the evenings - I could take pleasure in the acquiescence of everyone around us and laugh at their antics, and a few drinks helped put me to bed before I could make a fool of myself.
On the fifth morning, I was congratulating myself on being wonderfully smart and yet again saving my marriage, when the girl burst through the door in an obvious panic.
I suppose I should introduce you to her, her name is Samantha, and everyone calls her Sam.
"Sam!" I said, my voice a little too shrill for comfort, but in her state she didn't notice. "Whatever is the matter?"
She was dressed in what at first I though were nothing more than bra and pants, girls pants that is, I think panties is the term, although it always seems very kindergarten to me.
Nevertheless, my overwhelming impression was that she was almost naked and I never so much wanted to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from whatever it was she was fleeing from.
"I was out for a run - I just got bitten by a spider, or a bee, or a snake, I don't know."
Quite involuntarily I said "My poor darling" but again it went unnoticed "where did you get bit?"
"I can't say."
"You're not sure where?"
"No, I know, I just can't say."
"I'll call Jack."
"I'll call for an ambulance."
"No Bill, you need to save me now."
She grabs my hand and pulls me over to the sofa, and sits down. I go to sit next to her but she holds tighter to my hand and pulls me down.
"Kneel down" she says.
"Bill" she says looking right in to my eyes, right into my heart, "you can't tell anyone about this. Anyone."
"No" I say emphatically. "About what?"
She leans over, our heads almost touch I smell her shampoo and what must be her body odour, but it's such a glorious aroma I want to drink it in.
"Look" she says as she pulls the gusset of her panties to one side, and sure enough, right between the deepest part of her inner thigh, and the start of her, well, her most intimate parts, there is a nasty looking red welt. Okay there isn't, I can't see anything, but in my attempt to please her, I say, "does it hurt very much?"
"You have to suck it out, the poison."
"Yes" I say "I do."
"Please Bill, don't tell anyone."
"But my dear, this is a medical emergency."
"It's much worse than it looks" I'm wondering what on Earth she can mean when everything looks perfect to me, when she yanks the gusset completely to one side revealing her entire sex for my viewing pleasure.
I should explain, my wife was not my first sexual conquest, I was somewhat of a ladies man in my youth, but nothing could have prepared me for this sight of heaven before me.
Sam's pudenda was entirely absent of any hair, her mons was a smooth domed peach, cleft in two and gaping, with crenelations of pink skin protruding from the sides of this perfect opening. She placed two fingers either side and pulled back slowly, her heavenly lips were moist, as she pulled back further they glistened and gleamed. My jaw slacken and my mouth fill with saliva, my tongue felt huge in my mouth.
Then with her other hand, one finger teased open the very top of her vulva, and there amongst a cascade of liquid flesh, a pink pearl of joy revealed itself to me. It stood up proud, and seemed to pulse.
"Suck it out" she said, and I needed no other invitation.
I plunged into the depths of those luscious lips and found that hard gem with ease, my lips, my teeth surrounded it, and in that moment the young woman forgot herself and let go of her pulled aside panties and they snapped shut that kingdom of heaven, but with nary a heartbeat of time, pure instinct took hold, I bit through the material to form a small hole, then ripped those panties apart, and recommitted to the task at hand.
The smell of her was utterly intoxicating, she was so effusively moist that I drank her nectar, when at last I heard her breathing quicken, her thighs tense and that pearl bobble around between my lips, I knew I had sucked all of the poison from her and left her alive and kicking.
When I came up for air her head was hanging over me, the broadest smile, she pulled my face up to hers and kissed my lips.
"Bill" she said "I think you just saved my life."
She reached under her top and pull it up and off.
It was of no surprise to me that her breasts were utterly perfect.
She held my face in her hands, and kissed me again.
"Bill, do you like me?" she asked.
"Yes" I stuttered.
"You were the hardest to reach, you resisted me." With one finger she tapped me on the nose. "I thought you would be the easiest, but you were the hardest."
"You could have just asked." I said meekly.
"But Bill, where's the fun in that" she said pulling on my nose but her fingers slipping off. "Bill you made me so wet. Can we do this again sometime?"
"Yes please." I said.
She stood up, standing over me completely naked save for two halves of her panties around her upper thighs, her body glisten, her breasts pointing out, her nipples hard, her awesome vagina dripping on me. "That's great Bill, I'd love to do this again next year."
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