Aruba Encounter

Looking around, I climb the stairs carved into the rock. Overhead, the stars shine diamond-like against the deep black of the night sky. Murmurs of voices and the soft sounds of a calypso band follow me up from the pool deck.

Reaching the hot tub area, I look around. This spot is one of the main reasons I bought a time-share condo at the Aruba Ocean Club instead of at any of the other hotels. Sure, they had a good beach, a gorgeous pool with swim-up bar, beautifully decorated condos, and a great staff, but so did all the other places.

Nowhere else, however, had been able to offer this. The hot tub was easily accessible, yet incredibly private. In an unusual shape, if offered grottos, nooks, and crannies. Secluded alcoves screened by flowering plants and vines created the illusion of privacy even when the tub was full.

Dropping my towel onto a bench, I step out of my shoes and peel off my shirt. Next I unbutton my shorts and step out of them, leaving the white of my racing bathing suit to shine against the dark tan of my skin. Descending into the tub, I walk past the various alcoves, being careful to keep my drink held aloft over the water.

Finding a spot that suits me, I settle back, close my eyes, and take a drink. The coolness of the frosted drink contrasts with the heat from the water and I can feel the alcohol taking a hold of me. It is rare for me to drink, but I plan to enjoy my vacation and all of the luxuries offered. I have no responsibilities, no one to answer to, so I plan to indulge myself as I wish.

Time passes. I just drift. I feel all my cares floating away, all my worries melting into the water.

Very faintly, I hear the rustle of the plants around me. A soft breeze has been periodically stirring them, caressing my wet shoulders and neck and causing little shivers from the contrast before the breeze subsides. Contributing the noise to the breeze again, I sink deeper into the water and take a slow sip from my drink.

The water gently laps at my body. I feel what seems to be water plants drift against me and move away. At first, I enjoy the sensation. Then, realizing that there are no water plants in the hot tub, I open my eyes.

I don't know him. I know no one here in Aruba.

He stands before me, just an outline in the low lighting. His features are indistinguishable, but his shape is strong, arms and chest well-muscled. He is taller than me, bigger than me, but not in an intimidating way. The water of the hot tub only caresses his lower stomach as he stands there. His swim suit, if he is wearing one, is not visible.

I sense his smile more than see it. It's only a quick flash of white teeth as he leans forward and once again runs a hand lightly, ever-so-softly over the spot where the water's surface just touches my chest.

For a long moment we just stare at each other. If I'm going to protest, now is the time; now is the only time. No words leave my mouth. I know what I'm doing. Not enough alcohol has passed my lips that I can explain this as a drunken encounter. While it eases my decision, this is what I want.

Setting down my glass carefully on the lip of the hot tub, I stand and move forward. The breeze picks that exact moment to blow a gust of air between us and my nipples bead in response.

The slight tilt of his head lets me know he has noticed. Once again his hand rises, but this time he flicks his thumb over my nipple, which puckers even more. My cock also throbs, but the temperature of the air has nothing to do with that. His skin is slightly calloused. Not so hard that it hurts me, but enough to create rough friction. Then, bending at the waist, he replaces his thumb with his mouth.

I bite my lip and bury my face in his shoulder. I can not let any sound escape. I know there are others in the hot tub, in their own secluded alcoves. Deluded by the sound of the waterfalls that cascade from the hot tub to the pool below, I can hear the hum of the people enjoying the cool pool with the swim-up bar and the Calypso band.

Bringing up my arms, I twine one around his back while the other goes higher and my fingers tangle in his hair. Angling my lower body forward, I feel him already hot and hard against my belly and our two cocks rub together. No material separates him from the world and I find myself eager to join him in his nudity.

Moving backward deeper into the shadows of our little alcove, I lower my suit and then push it down and away, my cock springing free in celebration. I don't know what has drawn him here. I certainly hadn't given anyone any signals throughout the day, but no questions will come from my lips.

The warm water is soft against my bare skin and as he nears, I realize the top of my head barely reaches his chin. This doesn't bother me as it makes me the perfect height to worship him. My mouth slowly traces down his throat and over his shoulder. The skin is smooth and warm here, slightly salty with a touch of the chlorine from the treated water of the hot tub.

His own hands move down my back and lower. There is deliciousness in this forbidden encounter. I don't know if it is the public setting or the coming together of two strangers in silence, but my skin is ultra-sensitive to each touch, each caress. When one of his fingers trails down the crack of my ass, I can't keep hard tremors from racing through me. When the other hand circles around my body and moves to stroke the skin of my stomach, goose bumps rise all over my body.

For the first time, our mouths meet. His lips are full and soft, his tongue smooth and long. I know I taste of my tropical drink and the coconut rum that makes it potent. His breath is scented of coffee and I can taste the addition of Bailey's Irish Cream, a sweet combination.

I don't know how long we stand there, doing little more than kissing and caressing. Our hands avoid the most sensitive areas of each other's anatomy. For now, our explorations are more innocent even though their intent is not. The slow approach is as heady as any drinks we could have imbibed.

A stronger gust of wind ripples the water around us and the plants move more aggressively in their planters. Feeling me shiver, he turns us and sinks down onto the bench, pulling me down to his lap. Now we are mostly under water and I can't ignore his excitement as it rises against my hip.

My hand sinks below the water for a more intimate exploration. He is thick and my fingers have trouble circling his girth completely. I shiver in anticipation, both positive and negative. To feel that inside me, to be stretched full by that. What exquisite pleasure it will bring, but only after great discomfort from the initial entry.

He must know how his size can affect a man. His own hand moves between my legs and his fingers stroke my balls softly before encircling my cock. Then his other hand moves down my back and I feel one probing finger delve between my ass cheeks. It seems to measure me, test me. Then, he touches the spot on my cock, just below the head, where I am most sensitive. The contrast of warm, silky water, hard calloused fingers gently stroking, and my own throbbing member coming together all at once has my head spinning.

I use my own fingers to stroke up and down him. My thumb circles the head of his cock, finding the precum that is leaking out and smoothing it over him. Circling the base with my fingers, I lightly squeeze as I trail my hand upward.

Against my lips, his breath comes out in faster puffs of air. My own heart is racing and the tingling along my spine and over the head of my cock tells me how ready I am for what is to come. When one of his fingers enters me, I can't keep a small whimper trapped inside anymore. But his mouth is there to capture and swallow the sound, keeping it from going farther.

Turning more on his lap, I press myself to him. He helps me to straddle him and then he just rocks against me.

I've let go of his cock so that I can brace my hands on his shoulders. There has been no real entry; we just let our most intimate skin rub together. The teasing caress is both too little and too much and I want so much more.

But now is not the time to hurry. This moment is magical and does not exist in normal time. It will not come again, so it needs to be drawn out and savored.

I feel it all, am aware of it all. The warm bubbling water, the tropical breeze with just enough coolness to chill wet flesh, our hard nipples brushing against each other, his supple tongue sliding against my own, my hands stroking over firm muscles and down to downy hair on his arms, the firm stroke of one of his hands up and down my back, the other hand caressing my hip and thigh, and, most of all, his velvet-covered hardness moving between my ass cheeks and brushing again and again along my opening. My mind is on overload from all the sensations.

Bringing his hand down yet again, he slowly pushes a finger into me. I shiver at the entry. We have no lube to guide the way, just the warmth of the water and our desire to make this work.

I rock slowly, concentrating more on the pleasure than the logistics. I want this and I am ready for it.

For a time he just uses that one finger as our lips continue to meet, our tongues to tangle. He is patient, giving me the time needed to stretch naturally before adding a second finger.

There's a slight bit of discomfort now, but nothing I can't handle. I'd played enough with myself in the shower that this wasn't so different, even if his fingers are bigger, thicker. His lips move from mine and I grunt softly in discontent. I feel him smile in amusement against my neck before he laves his tongue over it. Suddenly I'm not nearly as unhappy as he finds my pulse spot and begins to suckle.

I can feel him marking me. I should care since I won't exactly be wearing turtlenecks in the coming days, but I don't. In this moment, he can do anything he wants to me and I'm not going to protest.

Then it's time for a third finger. The burn is more intense now. I hiss softly and he pulls back to look into my eyes, checking to see how badly I am hurting. But I'm not hurting nearly enough that I want him to even

think

about stopping. I bend my back just enough that I can latch onto one of his nipples with my teeth, tugging insistently. He gets the message and pushes that third finger the rest of the way in.

Then he finds my prostrate. He brushes against it and I see stars. I suck harder against his nipple in order to keep from crying out. I think he realizes I am now ready since he pulls out his fingers and repositions me on his lap.

As he rocks forward, just the head slips inside of me. His entry has begun. It is slow and controlled. Measured. A fraction of an inch at a time. Our bodies slowly connect, interlock.

Time passes. The water undulates against us as we move together. Delicate movements and then we are one, completely. He is seated deep inside me, stretching me tight. The stinging sensation that I had anticipated has come and passed. Now it is fullness that I feel.

The fit is so snug that I am aware of every centimeter of him; the ridge of the vein that pulses along his cock pushes against my inner walls. For a moment, we rest together. Our heads lean against each other and our breath mingles. We savor each other.

Then it is time. The intensity is unmatched from anything in my experience. It is not hard strokes, not speed, but something else that drives us. It is pure feeling as me move together.

Our bodies move together. His skin scrapes against mine. His large hands grasp my hips, controlling my movements even as they help me to move. Once again our mouths meet. We pant warm breath over each other's face.

He moans softly into my ear when I squeeze my ass around him, so I do it again. Then he retaliates by thrusting up hard the next time I push down. That is all I need.

My fingers dig deep into his shoulders and my throat locks up. Unable to breathe, I feel myself explode, implode, combust. I've become the ultimate weapon and I've just detonated.

His own explosion quickly follows. His hands, clenched in my ass, pull me down hard onto him as he gives himself up to pleasure.

For a long moment we simply breathe. Our recovery is long and slow and we hold each other as little aftershocks quake through us.

Once again it is time. I kiss him slowly, then slip away. Still, there are no words. Farewells are not needed. Snagging my suit with one hand, I fade among the plants and into another alcove.

Sound returns. The calypso band, the laughter, the whir of the blender at the bar, once again come into being. But nothing will ever be more real than that one moment out of time that has come and passed between two strangers.