After a languid bus ride through banana groves and jagged barrancos, we arrive in Icod de los Vinos. Ancient dragon tree looms, its trunk a massive, gnarled throne. We picnic on the sun-warmed plaza stones, Russian chatter mixing with German whispers. Breeze carries hibiscus scent. Back at our Puerto de la Cruz hotel, gardens whisper with canaries’ trill. Plush loungers cradle us under palms. Brochures rustle; plans form. Evening stroll along the promenade, salt spray kissing skin. My short shorts hug thighs; Axel’s gaze lingers on passing curves, but snaps back to me, hungry. I feel his tension, mine too, as men’s eyes devour. We retreat to the subterranean spa. Steam rises from the heated pool, water silk against bare skin.
Sibylle appears again, her observer from yesterday. Lithe, blonde bush visible underwater, eyes lock on my floating breasts. Axel cuddles my neck; trust pulses. I swim to her. ‘Last day?’ I ask. German flows: divorced admin drone, starved for touch. She admits I evoke a lost lover. Legs brush ‘accidentally’; she quivers. Axel leans in: ‘She’s hot, right?’ Crimson floods her cheeks. I confess: ‘You excite me too.’ Fingers graze her belly under waves. She arches. ‘Your tongue tempts me.’ ‘Du bist so geil,’ she breathes—surrender.
The Privilege
Breasts bump ‘innocently’; nipples harden. Axel signals his steel cock straining. ‘Shower?’ Pine aroma calls. She follows, mesmerized.
Pine-scented steam envelops the tiled sanctum, door clicks shut. I draw her close, lips meet slow, deep. Tongues clash sloppy, urgent. She melts, hands on my ass, squeezing desperate. Mine roam her curves, thighs slick. Axel watches, smiling, misting us warm. I pull back; she pants, feral. Saliva-dripped fingers to her lips; she sucks greedy, eyes locked, submissive.
Axel grips my hips from behind. ‘Finger yourself,’ I command. Back to wall, hand dives into blonde thatch, plunging deep. I halt: ‘Eyes on me.’ She obeys, clit circling frantic. ‘Stop. Open.’ My soaked fingers invade her heat, then her mouth. ‘Suck.’ She devours, hallucinated. ‘Again.’ Trembling, she masturbates; I pinch rock-hard nipples. On the edge: ‘Lick me.’ She drops, tongue ravaging pussy, lips, clit. Obscene slurps echo.
Axel thrusts in, filling me brutal. Hands maul breasts; Sibylle laps my clit. Priestess exalted, they worship. ‘Make me cum!’ Waves crash; I scream, shattering.
The Excess
He withdraws; void aches. I lick her juice-smeared face, share my taste. Fingers plunge her gash, thumb in ass. She convulses, howling orgasm, collapsing.
Axel before her; I behind, stroking his throbbing shaft. ‘Mouth open, tongue out.’ Precum pearls on her tongue. I pump faster; he erupts. Jets paint mouth, cheek, chin, tits—pearly on bronze. ‘Don’t swallow.’ I smear, tease nipples. Kiss shares salty gift. ‘Cum.’ She shudders, spent.
We wash her limp form, towel plush, lounge poolside. She whispers: ‘I’ve never… I’m yours. Bus in two hours.’
‘Your finale isn’t over yet…’
