Caribbean Breeze
by Morgan
Disclaimer: Since the characters in this story are projections of two of our favorite
heros, but go by different names in a different time and place, they are owned by no one,
except perhaps myself. But I would far prefer that they belong to their luscious selves.
Lesbian sex?: I should hope so.
Camilla smiled as she continued her walk, casually checking out the various kinds of
bodies that were on display here. After all, it’s not everyday you get to see a variety of
naked humanity. And so many of the people here had come to worship the sun with
bodies that had been exercised and stretched and oiled to perfection. Knowing that she
was a compact sprite in comparison didn’t even begin to stop her from enjoying looking
at the long-limbed and voluptuous among them.
As she walked on, the sunbathers became sparser. After a little while she realized that
she was on a stretch of beach that was virtually empty. She could look back along the
curve of land to where the gathering near the point seemed now to be at a great distance.
Slightly aroused from all that she had seen and more than a little curious about how it
would feel, she shed her usual inhibitions along with her suit and stood naked under the
sun. The soft tropical breeze caressed her skin where her swimsuit had been, ruffled her
pubic hair. She sat carefully on the sand, which was growing hot, then lay back to feel
the heat permeate her from below and above. She rolled over and pressed her belly and
breasts into the sand, felt the sun on her ass, lay there absorbing the intensity of the heat
until she was afraid she was burning her sheltered skin. Then she got up and walked into
the perfect water, just cool enough to be refreshing but not so cool as to cause even the
least startle when it touched the sun-warmed woman. As she swam slowly she felt the
current against her nipples, felt the freedom of moving in this medium without the
constraint of even a swimsuit. She felt good enough to make love to this magical place,
and was so sorry she was here alone with no one with whom to share the passion she was
feeling.
As she made her way back towards town, she gave herself a bit of a pep talk about facing
the evening on her own. She had come to Mexico with two friends. She had chosen to
stay behind today as they embarked on an ambitious outing to some remote ruins that
would keep them away until long after dark. She knew the likelihood of a sudden
vacation romance was more than remote, but she also knew that if it was going to
happen, tonight was her only chance. In the few days that they had been here, she had
discovered a particular beach front bar that seemed to have the friendliest ambiance. The
bartender there had learned her name and like to flirt with her, draw attention to her. She
would go there this evening, where she could at least be assured of having some laughs.
As she passed through the nude sunbathers again, she looked around for the woman who
had taken her breath away, but didn’t see her.
Back in her room, she showered off the sand and salt and then lay down for a siesta under
the ceiling fan. She fell quickly asleep after all the sun and walking and swimming, and
dreamed of gentle hands rubbing her, arousing her, the way the breezes had that day.
When she woke it was nearly dark out, and she was very wet between her legs.
She showered again, a tropical indulgence, then put on panties, a light sleeveless dress
with thin straps, small silver earrings and a silver hoop bracelet that look pale against her
tanned arm. She brushed her long golden hair until it was smooth and shining. She put
some pesos in the pocket in the seam of her dress, slipped into some sandals, and went
out into the evening.
The outdoor bar was crowded and loud with music and laughter. The little folding tables
all had small groups or couples seated around them. There didn’t seem to be any empty
stools around the small bar. No problem, Camilla thought, one will open up. As soon as
Miguel, the bartender, saw her, he nudged the man who sat on the end stool and said,
“Hey, my Camilla linda is here. Let her sit there, will ya.” The man looked at Camilla
and smiled as he stood and offered her the seat with a deep, theatrical bow.
“Muchas gracis, senior.” she said with a small curtsey before she took her seat.
“A beautiful day on the beach, today?” Miguel asked as he fixed Camilla a Margarita.
“Sure was. I walked down around the point and then way down that beach to where no
one else was.”
Miguel smiled and threw her a knowing glance. “See anything interesting down that
way?”
“You know it’s the nude beach.”
“Oh yes.” As he set her drink in front of her, he leaned close and said, “So did you?”
“Did I what!?” Camilla responded with mock defensiveness.
“Did you take off your clothes?”
“I’m not even going to answer that!” she said as she sipped her drink to hide her
embarrassment.
When Miguel was busy with other customers, Camilla looked around at the crowd and
eavesdropped as best she could. There were several languages being spoken, with
English and German by far the loudest. At the corner of the bar a French Canadian man
was romancing a willing college girl from Colorado, who giggled when he nibbled her
ear and kept sipping at the straw of her brightly colored drink. A middle-aged man who
looked to be the image of a corporate executive - whose wife was probably sleeping off
several of those pretty drinks - kept watching Camilla from across the bar and smiling
whenever he could catch her eye. As he mixed drinks, Miguel kept up a low commentary
about the other patrons, as if he were reporting secret information to Camilla. This one
can’t go back to the States because of trouble with the IRS. That one came here with her
husband, but he left last week. “I give the girl and the Canadian guy another ten minutes
before they’re off to his room.” Meanwhile, Camilla is starting on her third Margarita
with no dinner except the tortilla chips on the bar.
A dark-haired woman slid onto the now empty stool beside her, leaned over the bar and
said, “Miguel, do you have a bottle of champagne open already?”
Miguel turned at the sound of her voice and, taking both her hands in his, said,
“Alesandra! My beauty! Of course I have champagne for you.”
As Alesandra leaned back to give Miguel a good look at her, Camilla realized that this
was the same woman who she had seen on the beach and looked for again. Now she was
wearing a sarong-like dress in a tropical pattern with teals and purples. The light
fragrance she wore suggested the jasmine that bloomed all around at night here. As
Alesandra and Miguel bantered like siblings, Camilla slowly drew herself into the most
dignified stance she could. As he set the champagne in front of Alesandra, he said, “I
want you to meet my good friend and future wife, Camilla. Camilla, this is Alesandra
Maria Sabrina Elesardo Morena, the owner of this fine establishment.”
“And the sister of his wife, in case he forgot to mention her when he pledged himself to
you.” Alesandra said with that devastating smile as she turned to Camilla and shook her
hand.
“Good to meet you, and thank you for the clarification.” Camilla shot a Miguel a shame-
on-you look to make it clear to Alesandra that she was in on the game as a game, and
nothing more.
Miguel’s exuberance, combined with his reveling in the attention of two attractive
women, made for lots of fun conversation around the bar. Alesandra and Camilla
quickly became co-conspirators in a campaign to draw out every embarrassing story there
was about Miguel’s notorious flirtations gone awry. At times they were laughing so hard
that they were leaning on each other to keep from falling off their stools, and after awhile
just left their arms draped over each others shoulders. Camilla had forgotten the awe she
had felt when she first saw this woman, but it came back in a flash when Alesandra stood
up and said, “Come see my room. It is, of course, the best in the house.”
There would clearly be no saying no to this woman.
Behind the bar and seating area a stone path through the lush foliage led to a courtyard
surrounded by a small inn. Up a stairway, along a balcony and up another narrow
stairway, the women came to a room that stood alone in its rooftop garden, the beach and
sparkling sea spread out below. Inside the French doors was a cozy room filled with dark
polished wood furniture. A small Victorian lamp shed a soft light. In the center of the
room was a large four-poster bed, again in rich mahogany, with carved pineapples at the
tops of the tall bedposts.
Alesandra drew a willing Camilla to sit with her on the edge of the bed. She opened a
drawer and brought out a small stone pipe which she handed to Camilla as she reached
for a match. Camilla drew in the fragrant smoke and in moments felt the softening
effects of the potent mixture. Alesandra took some for herself and then encouraged
Camilla to have just a little more.
The closeness of the room with the sea sparkling outside combined with the effects of the
drug and the hours of sipping Margaritas to make Camilla feel as if she were in a dream,
someplace outside of her ordinary life where she could be whoever she pleased. When
Alesandra leaned toward her to kiss her Camilla took the woman’s face in her hands
without inhibition and drank in the sweet breath, let her mouth be opened wide as their
tongues explored each other. In no hurry but rather savoring their growing passion, the
two women kissed for what seemed like a long while. Camilla ran her hands through and
over Alesandra’s lush hair. Alesandra held Camilla with a firm hand on her back,
rubbing her muscles as the same time that their breasts pressed together. Camilla felt her
heat rising, remembered the sight of those lovely breasts in the sun, reached down to
touch one. Alesandra took her gently by the wrist to stop her, then stood and pulled
Camilla to her feet.
Without a word Alesandra took hold of the hem of Camilla’s dress and drew it up.
Camilla let it slip off over her head and arms. Alesandra paused only a moment to gaze
lustily at Camilla’s bare breasts and belly, then pulled down the panties to Camilla’s
ankles and took her hand to help her step out of them. Now Camilla was naked in front
of Alesandra who still wore her bright dress. Alesandra just looked at her, an expert eye
with a deep hunger unconcealed, her gaze taking stock, taking ownership of what she
saw. Her piercing blue gaze was as arousing to Camilla as if it were Alesandra’s hands
running over her. Unable to stand entirely still, Camilla shifted slightly from one foot to
the other, and then caught a faint scent of her own passion, released from the warm place
between her thighs.
“Come, sit here.” Alesandra whispered and directed her to a corner of the bed, her back
to the bedpost. She took a step back, her eyes fixed on Camilla who felt more naked by
the moment. Alesandra loosened a knot of fabric at one shoulder, then began to slowly
unwrap the dress that hugged her body, all the while staring intently at Camilla as if
reading her every response. There were those magnificent breasts again, the nipples even
tighter and more alert, that long belly, those strong thighs. She wore a pair of black
panties which she did not remove. She sat on the bed next to Camilla, leaned forward a
little as if waiting. “Go ahead.” was all she said. Camilla raised a tentative hand and
touched Alesandra’s breast, first along the side, then running her fingers underneath and
cupping the breast to feel its weight. With just one hand she explored the surfaces of
Alesandra’s breasts while Alesandra watched her, responding only when Camilla’s
fingers brushed over a nipple, and only then with the slightest start.
When Camilla finally lifted her gaze to meet Alesandra’s eyes, the other woman said,
“Will you let me try something with you if I promise that you’ll like it?” Camilla
nodded. Alesandra opened another small drawer and drew out a long silk scarf in a rich
golden color. She draped the scarf over Camilla shoulders and used it to pull Camilla
toward her for another of those kisses that might have lasted forever. As they kissed
Alesandra let the scarf fall loose down Camilla’s back and ran her hands down Camilla’s
arms. As she drew back she took Camilla’s wrists and raised her hands up over her head.
Alesandra’s breasts rubbed against Camilla’s as she looped the scarf around Camilla’s
wrists and around the bedpost, securing it with a knot. The scarf was snug but not tight.
As she tested its hold it tightened, but remained comfortable. She knew she could get
free in a moment if she wanted, but she had no reason to want to.
Now it was Alesandra’s turn to explore Camilla’s breasts. With her arms above her head,
her small breasts stood proudly, a blush of pink across the tops from their time in the sun.
Her nipples were a darker rose and stood out invitingly. Alesandra’s expert hands held
these breasts, pushed on them gently, let her hot palms make circling motions on both
nipples at once. Camilla arched her body, pressing her breasts out even further as if to be
as exposed as possible. Alesandra took each nipple between fingers and held it, pressing
slowly harder and harder until she felt Camilla startle, then loosened a bit and rolled
them back and forth between fingertips. Camilla could hold still no longer. Her hips
moved back and forth. Small groans escaped from her throat. She held the bedpost
between her bound hands.
Alesandra put one arm around Camilla and held her tightly by the waist. She leaned her
head down and took one nipple into her mouth with her fingers continued to play with
the other. She sucked in a rhythm, rolling her tongue over the top if it, brushing it lightly
with her teeth, holding it between her teeth while she flicked the tip of her tongue across
it. Camilla groaned and writhed in Alesandra’s grasp, such delicious torture. Alesandra
gave a similar treatment to the other breast. Her hand moved to Camilla’s ass and slowly
she drew her down, her hands sliding down the bed post, until Camilla was laying
underneath Alesandra who had not stopped making love to Camilla’s breasts for a
moment. Alesandra pushed Camilla’s legs apart and leaned between them as she sucked.
She sat up, taking a breast in each hand and teased the nipples, pinching and pulling at
them while Camilla rocked below her. Alesandra drew back further and pressed
Camilla’s thighs wide open, looking into her pink sex, seeing the moisture on the hair
there. She ran her hand over the mound, ran her fingers down the creases where her
thighs met her lips, used both hands to open her and see the tender inner folds, opened
them to see her entrance and her hard pink pearl. She slipped a finger into the moisture
and rubbed the area between clit and opening. Camilla raised her hips, her movement
begging for more. Alesandra lazily rubbed this place until she felt another wave of
wetness, then bent down and, holding Camilla wide open, tasted the salty nectar and then
brought the tip of her tongue to the pulsing clit. She teased it for a moment, then began
licking it hard, rubbing the rough of her tongue over it. Camilla cried out and forced her
legs even wider apart, grasping tightly to the bed post now. Alesandra’s strong tongue
stroked the length of Camilla’s sex, her lips occasionally taking the clit between them to
suckle it. She reached two fingers inside and rubbed against the upper wall in rhythm
with her mouth. Camilla was lost now in the powerful waves of pleasure that grew
stronger with each cycle, filling her to bursting, obliterating every sense but those that
beheld this skilled and passionate goddess who seemed now to be everywhere at once.
As her passion reached its peak Alesandra matched her intensity and drew it out of her,
first with a great rush of release, then with successive throes of surrender as her
tremendous need slowly dissipated into bliss. When her mind finally returned to the
room, Alesandra’s head rested on her mound. Camilla slipped her hands out of the
loosened scarf and reached down to stroke the thick, shining hair, and felt the muscles of
Alesandra’s face form a smile where she rested against her.