The executive jet tipped a wing as it turned over the azure-blue waters and pointed the nose of the aircraft toward the runway at the far end of Grand Cayman Island. The sumptuously appointed interior of the plane had comfortable leather seats which enveloped the passengers as they buckled in for landing at Owen Roberts International Airport. As the A-frame roof of the terminal came into view Tom reached over to hold Kitty's hand and smiled to himself as she stared out the portal like a kid in a candy store. She was so excited to be arriving on the beautiful island with the love of her life. Tom was excited for this dream vacation as well. Just the two of them quietly enjoying a few days of wonderfully indulgent luxury, and of course fabulous, toe-curling sex. This was to be a weekend together away from their respective hectic careers that too often kept them apart, for relaxation, fun and sex; lots of erotic, fantastic, orgasmic pleasures planned by each of the lovers for their respective mate.
Kitty was excited by the possibilities for the weekend, but Tom had kept the arrangements a secret from her. She had known they were going to Cayman, an exotic, island paradise she had always wanted to visit, but Tom had made all the arrangements: chartering the private jet, booking a luxurious suite at the Ritz Carlton on Seven Mile Beach. Even though she didn't known the specifics of their weekend adventure Kitty had prepared for the occasion, in her weekender she had packed her lacy black, sexiest lingerie as well as an assortment of the couple's favorite sex toys - for spontaneous sexual delights. Not kinky, just very erotically stimulating for multiple orgasmic pleasures during their weekend.
Tom was enjoying Kitty's excitement. It was contagious. She was bubbling with enthusiasm and he wasn't sure how much of that was attributable to the bubbles in the champagne that she had been sipping, since the plane took off an hour earlier from MIA.
The jet slipped effortlessly out of the clouds and down the runway. After taxiing toward the executive hanger they deplaned and walked through to the brief, courteous Customs/Immigration Processing terminal. Tom moved through the terminal just ahead of Kitty and entered the glass-enclosed Customs area where he could see and be seen quite clearly. He had never been to Cayman before and looked around somewhat hesitantly, unsure where he was to go next in the deplaning process. At one point he slowed and turned to look through the terminal to see where their luggage had gone and in that moment he had a flash of memory that quite surprised him as it was from his distant past. He couldn't imagine why that particular thought had popped into his mind. He shook his head and brought his attention back to the immigration paperwork processing at hand.
Kitty moved through the Custom's line just ahead of Tom, as he had directed her with his hand in the small of her back. They were quickly processed through the formality and headed out to the curb where the luggage was being stowed in the boot of the hotel limousine waiting at the curb. The driver, dressed in traditional black Bermuda shorts and neat white shirt, held the door open for the couple as they approached.
Kitty climbed into the car wearing a snug fitting very short black linen skirt which rode up on her thigh as she settled her ass onto the back seat. She pulled her long, shapely legs together into the car revealing a well-toned thigh with just a suggestion of red lace panties under the skirt. Her strappy heeled sandals clicked together, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, as the driver closed the car door after her. Tom walked around and climbed into the car from the opposite side. The Ritz Carlton hotel's elegant logo was displayed on each side of the limo identifying where these guests were to be delivered. The engine purred quietly as the car slipped away from the curb toward the resort.
Standing in the lee of the arriving passenger's porte cochere, the man watched the couple depart in the hotel limo. He would have recognized Tom anywhere, but he had never imagined that he would see him again, certainly not on Grand Cayman Island, nor especially arriving with a woman. It was a sudden, very interesting surprise for the man observing the couple - full of memories of a time so many years ago.
The older, ruggedly fit man wore reflective ray-bans everywhere he went, so his flinty blue eyes were hidden most of the time. He was dressed in the customary island garb of shorts and an open neck polo shirt, but even a casual observer would recognize the expensive quality of the clothes. The wide brimmed Panama hat protected his bald head from sunburn; the Montecristi was his trademark and he was recognized throughout the island community everywhere he went on the island because of it.
The expat from the States had taken up non-resident status on the British Commonwealth Island after walking away from his life in Philadelphia. A widower, he had made his mark in the business world and retired comfortably to the Islands a dozen years earlier. Not much was known about his personal life. The locals respected his privacy and they didn't make inquiries about him to the house staff or chauffer. He lived alone on the west side of the island and was well known to the Caymanians because he went out of his way to treat everyone with genuine warmth and friendship. A liberal dose of respect, as well a discreet token of appreciation for various services rendered, gave him assistance and information whenever he needed it.
So he strolled over to the tourist immigration desk and greeted the officer warmly, extending his hand to shake with a couple of Caymanian dollars discreetly folded into it. He inquired about the couple who had just arrived, explaining he thought he recognized the man from his days back in the States. He gathered the information he needed, wished the immigration officer a pleasant day and moved off toward the parking area.
Staring through the window of the limo, Kitty was engrossed in the hustle and bustle of the streets filled with a mix of colorfully dressed tourists, some of them quite sunburned, and native Caymanians, some of whom had bright red-hair and lots of freckles. It was a hereditary characteristic of the island's native population, some folks believing that it was a trait passed down through many generations after a red-haired Scotsman had visited the islands and stayed to live out his remaining days among the local populous.
Tom relished Kitty's excitement, and while he gave an 'interested tourist' look at the world outside the limo, he was also slyly watching the woman he adored as she gazed at the passing sights and marveled at all the color and excitement of all she beheld. "Let's go shopping there - can we rent bikes and travel around the island tomorrow - I want to see the turtle farm too..." Her mind was travelling faster than her mouth. Oh those luscious lips. He craved those lips and wanted his tongue between those lips - he wanted to devour her with lust and love.
"We can do whatever you want my sweet Kitty, this is our vacation and I want you to have anything - everything - that will make you happy." Tom was holding Kitty's hand and rhythmically running his thumb in little circles on the back of her hand between her thumb and index finger - a pulse point that seemed to stimulate her responses. She looked adoringly into Tom's eyes and reached for the back of his neck pulling him toward her, Kitty gave him a long deep kiss extending her tongue far to the back of his throat. She flicked the tip of her tongue on the roof of his mouth in a seductive manner. She whispered almost breathlessly as she sat up in the seat, "Thank you, my handsome, sexy guy," she said with a seductive smile containing a provocative hint of wonderful things to come. She slowly slid her hand between his legs and moved her fingers rhythmically over the front of Tom's slacks, playing with the zipper as his rapidly growing bulge pushed against her fingers. Tom squeezed his legs together holding her fingers captive as she stroked his shaft from the outside of his pants. They were both very horny and couldn't wait to get to the privacy of their suite at the hotel.
The driver turned the limousine off the main roadway into the driveway approaching the hotel. The route was guarded by stately palm trees all the way to the doorman's podium. The limo rolled to a quiet stop at the hotel entrance with its sliding glass doors leading into the lobby. It had only taken a few minutes for the drive from the airport to the hotel; Tom was impressed with the swift and efficient handling of the guests and the warm greeting from the staff as they were escorted through the lobby to the reception desk for registration. Kitty glanced around the open and airy lobby area while she waited for Tom to register; she spied several shops catering to any and all guest wants and desires: bathing suits, beach attire and tropical evening wear, in addition to the usual kitschy postcards, trinkets and suntan lotion.
Several of the barely-there bikinis in one shop window caught her eye. She'd come back to shop after they had settled into the suite. Kitty hadn't packed a bathing suit since she had wanted something new and special for Tom on this trip.
