1. Cock-baiting.
It was hot. Like, way
too
hot. And out there on the water it was beginning to get a little worrying. The sun cream was protecting her already bronzing skin from the midday sun, but she was glistening with sweat and getting a little flustered. It wouldn't be too long before she began to feel ill. As Emma rounded the last outcrop of rocks in the motorboat, the welcoming sight of a small cove surrounded by trees sprang into view.
That's the next few hours sorted!
With a little effort, she pulled her boat aground on the cove's hot sands and took her towel and bag to the shaded bit of the beach. As she began to unpack her satchel was when she heard the voices.
The break up with Mark had been hard on Emma. They'd been together for a long time, over ten years, so the sudden transition to single-dom had been scary territory. Nearly six months had passed and though it was getting easier, she was far from over it. Naturally, as time went on, slight chinks in Mark's glimmering armour began to appear. Some things she came to recognise for herself (the vanity, the inability to take criticism, the ignorance) and some things she'd had to be told straight. Apparently Mark had been about as faithful as a stray cat. Initially heartbreaking, over time this discovery had become more irritating than upsetting. That the bastard had got one over on her was now simply
annoying
. Mark had tried several times to win her back, but with the help of her closest, she'd stayed strong and was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
She needed a holiday. Convincing her friend Amanda to accompany her, the two of them booked a five star trip to the Dominican Republic. Amanda had been before and swore by it; promising fantastic weather, fantastic nightlife and fantastic men. And she hadn't been wrong. Just lying on the beach was like a front row seat at a Chippendales show. The amount of beefy hunkage on show was incredible..
Amanda had been chatting to one of these beefcakes and Emma had been left alone at the loungers, soaking up the rays. She always went a bronzey colour pretty much straight away thanks to her Romanesque complexion and this time was no disappointment. Furthermore, and for reasons she couldn't quite fathom (although in truth, it probably had something to do with the fact that her confidence was gaining momentum), Emma was hitting the beach wearing skimpier and skimpier clothing. That morning she was in the smallest bikini she had ever seen (let alone
worn
). It was a gorgeous silk red that barely contained her supple, sweating breasts. Her dark, protruding nipples were all but on show, poking up, straining to get out. The fabric against them was heavenly. They were crying out, screaming to be touched. And the bottom half? Well, regular waxing was essential! Emma's luscious, triangular mound strained beneath that divine fabric, as though her entire pussy had been laminated in silk. The G-string at the back rode high into the sumptuous bronze cheeks of her ass. She loved laying on her front for a few minutes to watch from behind dark glasses as the admiring gazes flooded in. No wonder Amanda wanted to take that beefcake elsewhere to chat! Pre-break up, Emma would never even entertain the idea of such behaviour. Now it just seemed like she couldn't help herself.
Cock-baiting was fun, but left alone for so long (and with nobody brave enough to come and speak to her) she decided she'd hire one of those motorboats she'd seen a few days before and do a little coastal recon. She sent Amanda a text to let her know she was off to find adventure elsewhere.
2. A bit of eavesdropping.
