Copyright © August 2024 by CiaoSteve
CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
Author's Notes
A couple of comments before you start to read.
Firstly, the title itself is reference to the symbolism of a certain cocktail, so if your fetish is fornication amongst the sand dunes, then this may leave you a little disappointed.
Secondly, and again just for awareness on content, the story spans genres a little, between erotic couplings, group sex with even a touch of lesbian, and some suggestive familial undertones. I will most likely publish in erotic couplings as that's what it is... a group of erotic encounters.
Anyway, you have been warned... there maybe elements of the story which do not pander to your ideal kink, but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. I would love to receive your comments.
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Prologue
Greece, the previous summer
Out over the sea, the sun was fighting against its inevitable demise, casting a fiery hue out in all directions, as it had done on each of the previous thirteen nights. The blistering heat of the day was easing off, becoming a much more pleasurable warmth, as dusk set in.
Just as the heat was starting to ease off, around the hotel grounds, things were also quietening down. Guests swapped fun and frolics for the more serious thought of food, and whatever was that evening's entertainment. Of course, there were the last few hangers-on, trying to make the most of what rays were left, but even they would soon disappear. As darkness set in, the pools became silent, a blue glow from underwater lights giving a sense of tranquillity around the grounds.
It was a nice time of day, a time for relaxation, a time for reflection, a time for togetherness. For the three friends, it was their favourite part of the day. They'd been doing the same for the last six years or so, having formed what seemed to be an unbreakable friendship back in their university days. All good things came to an end though, and for the last time this summer, they settled down into the cane chairs of the patio bar.
"What will it be, ladies?" the waiter enquired.
Just like the sun setting in the sky, this had also become a ritual each night. An early dinner before it got too busy, then a cocktail or two afterwards, as long as there wasn't something more exciting to be doing. It was what they did, and it was part of the reason the three women tended towards the higher end of the all-inclusive market. This place was no different. Five stars by Greek standards, albeit struggling to really top four and a half when compared to other places they had been to.
That said, there was nothing wrong with the service, and the cocktails did come with a smile and one of those little umbrellas which made it all worthwhile. With a smile? Oh yes, as he waited for a response, the barman, or Marcos as his name badge read, had a smile on his face.
It was all part of the service, even if the waiter wished to be elsewhere. One day, Marcos thought to himself. One day he would be the one sitting there, ordering cocktails. One day he would be the one spending his evenings with an angel by his side. An angel? Yes, that was an apt analogy for the three beauties gathered around the low table. The only question was which was the most angelic.
All three were different, but all three were equally charming in their own way. Marcos had his favourite of course, not that he was going to let on. After all, he was working and, when at work, the first rule was not to cross that boundary.
Sophie was the first to respond. She didn't even need to look at the menu to know what she wanted. She had it all planned, as always.
"Hurricane... please," Sophie replied, smiling back at Marcos.
"Coming right up," Marcos responded, turning his attention towards the tallest and most athletic looking of the three women.
It was true. Sophie had a thing for the physical lifestyle. She always had, from childhood through to her current late twenties. If you ever asked Sophie the question, she might have admitted to once upon a time having the dream of making it big, but that was long gone, sporting prowess replaced with financial acumen and a high-flying role at a pensions company.
That said, sport was in her blood, and she made sure to keep active. A fit body was an attractive body, was the mantra Sophie went by, and for sure she was fit. Sophie stood around five-ten, slim and toned, albeit not to the point of looking too muscular. Her mid-shoulder length near-black hair was pulled tight over her head, secured in a single ponytail.
What grabbed your attention?
It wasn't her womanly curves—that was for sure given the understated nature of both hips and bust—but more likely those perfectly toned long legs. The crude imagery of 'legs up to your armpits' could really have been coined around Sophie, not that she minded. She noticed the way they looked at her, eyes starting low and then following upwards. She noticed, and always she hoped, but to date that fit body hadn't brought her a lot of luck on the dating scene. Okay, so most of that was down to her being a little picky, rather than not having potential suitors. One day though, Sophie promised herself that the right person would be just around the corner.
It was no surprise that Sophie was the first to respond. Again, it was predictable. If there was one thing you couldn't miss about Sophie, it was her confidence. She oozed confidence, in the most direct yet polite way. She never rubbed your face in it, but you knew that success coursed through her veins.
The other thing you couldn't miss about Sophie was that body. If you've got it, flaunt it, the saying goes, and for sure Sophie had it, and yes, in her own understated way, she flaunted it. She was never the sort to flash it for all to see, in fact, she never had that much to flash, but whatever she wore, there was always that teasing glimpse of bare flesh.
Tonight, was no different. The dress was simple, white linen, free-flowing, with halter-neck style cross-over straps tied in a bow behind her neck. Was it the dress you noticed, or the bare shoulders, or perhaps the tiny triangle of tanned midriff just above the waist? That was Sophie... teasing at what was on offer, but never putting it fully on a plate.
"Errm... Marcos," came a more hesitant reply from the petite blonde to the left of Sophie.
"Let's see," she continued, peering at the menu.
It was Gemma. If Sophie was direct and decisive, then Gemma was the exact opposite. It wasn't that she lacked in confidence—Gemma was well on the way to becoming a successful lawyer—but she did have a hard time making her mind up. The problem was that every choice seemed somewhat better than the last.
If Sophie had the same cocktail every time, then Gemma was likely to have covered the whole menu before the two weeks were out, but that was half of the deal. She enjoyed playing the field and having a taste of everything on offer before making her mind up. It sort of summed the young woman up. Even her looks tended to change each day, both hairstyle—this evening she had tied her shoulder-length blonde hair in a high bun—and dress sense.
Where Sophie was the confident sporty type, Gemma was much more reserved in nature. She preferred a more elegant style, letting the clothes do the talking rather than relying on the added appeal of a flash of bare skin. Her outfits were perfectly suited to her quieter demeanour, not too long, not too short, never too revealing. Gemma was...what's the word... practical.
Yep, Gemma was five-foot-four of pure petite practicality. She was the one you could rely on not to create a fuss, not to embarrass herself, not to be centre stage. Don't get the wrong idea, Gemma was pretty alright. She had that innocence to her appearance. Her skin, even after days in the sun, was a shade or two lighter than the others, a conscious decision to sacrifice the tan as against taking the risk of burning. Even her make-up was understated, with subtle tones accentuating her pale skin, as against bright in your face splashes of colour.
"Strawberry daq... nope... apple mart... no..." Gemma continued. "Oh, Marcos... what do you suggest?"
For a moment, Marcos didn't respond. He seemed preoccupied with the question, or maybe with the young lady who had asked it. Finally, he smiled.
"For such a beautiful young lady, a beautiful cocktail. For you, I suggest the blue lagoon," Marcos replied.
"Blue lagoon," Gemma repeated, scanning down the menu to check just what he was suggesting. "Blue lagoon... yes... blue lagoon."
That left one, not that you would ever have walked away having missed Hannah, nor would Hannah have let you leave without noticing her.
What did you catch first?
Was it the long-flowing wavy red locks, cascading down, front and back, over her shoulders?
Was it the deep bronze tan?
Was it the choice of clothing she tended to wear, every outfit leaving nothing to the imagination; short skirts or dresses barely covering her modesty, plunging necklines highlighting her naturally deep cleavage or, as on this very evening, stretchy fabrics which clung seductively to her every curve?
Or was it... was it... the curves themselves, the full bust, the slim waist, the wide hips, the near-perfect hourglass figure?
Yes, you noticed them all, and if they didn't grab your attention, the over-excitable bubbly character that was Hannah herself was sure to leave a lasting impression. Five-foot-eight of pure dynamite.
Dynamite? Yep, light the fuse, sit back, and wait... Hannah never disappointed. She was everything the other two weren't. If Hannah wanted something, she made it her mission to go and get it, and nine times out of ten that's exactly what she did. Where the others were toning down from their youthful exuberance, Hannah was still a bit of a party animal, out to have fun, to see and be seen, to get up to all the mischief your parents warned you not to.
"Oooh, Marcos, do you need to ask?" Hannah finally chipped in. "For me... sex on the beach... oh yeah, and make it heavy on the se—"
"Hannah!" Gemma and Sophie responded in unison, cutting their red-headed friend off in her prime.
"I'm so sorry about my friend," Gemma apologised. "Too much sun, I think."
"No problem," Marcos replied, his words addressed to Gemma, but his eyes fixed all the time on Hannah. "One hurricane, one blue lagoon, and one sex on the beach... coming right up."
With that, Marcos headed off towards the bar inside. It was only when he had moved out of earshot that conversation picked up once more. It was Gemma who had taken umbrage to her friend's outburst.
"God, Hannah... that's all you ever think about!" Gemma exclaimed.
"And?" Hannah responded.
"And... and... well... there is more to life than a cute ass, a muscled body and a chiselled jawline," Gemma replied.
"You're right," Hannah responded, the expression on her face suggesting that she wasn't exactly about to agree with her friend. "There is something much more important, and it's not just having it, it's knowing what to do with it."
