Hustler forum stories

Added: Cullen Caban - Date: 15.01.2022 03:42 - Views: 32545 - Clicks: 4964

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Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements. The late morning sun is already hot and the air so still that it barely moves the lace-like branches of the tamarisk. Only the third day into their Aegean idyll. A vacation for the senses, that was the mutual promise. She raises her head, tips back the brim of her hat. She sees a small lizard scuttle over the hot rocks. Jason looks down over her lightly tanned body, nipples like milk chocolate buds.

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Dusty blonde hair loose over her shoulders. She grins, laying back onto her beach towel. I'm sure he does, especially if he knows I might be here on my own today Ten past twelve, and the rasp of a scooter dusting along the dirt track down from the main road. Jason sits in the shadow of the chapel wall, leaning against a large overhang of rock.

Through his small binoculars he watches Vassily stop at the end of the dirt track and look down along the Hustler forum stories. Most tourists go to the main beach four kilometers south, at Ag. Georgios beach, with its tavernas and cafes. Only a few are interested in this empty place. Three or four couples at the south end of the cove, close to the descending path. One solitary female lays to the north sunning on the sand collected around the beach tamarisk, hidden from them.

Vassily takes the footpath down to the shore, walks along the water's edge. As he approaches the north end, under the chapel, he sees Miranda on her stomach. He waves, probably says something like 'what a surprise to see you here'. Miranda turns her head, gives a quick wave back. He approaches and sits next to her.

She props herself up on her elbows. They both fill the field of view in the binoculars. Jason lowers Hustler forum stories to concentrate on sound. But the distance and the light waves breaking on the shore and the stray gusts of wind are enough to muffle voices further below. Vassily stands and must make a suggestion about going for a swim. Miranda also stands, throws her hat down onto the towel. Vassily runs ahead, springs a couple of times through the small waves then dives under the water.

Miranda is more cautious, tightropes over the pebbles which shelve steeply into the water for a few meters, then eases herself forward into the pale crystal blue water. Her blonde shoulder length hair spre like a fan behind her.

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Miranda floats on her back, small chocolate nipples puckering in the cool water. Vassily paddles on his side in circles around her. They must be chatting, drifting on the gentle swell of waves. Vassily stands beside her, water above his elbows. Miranda floats on her back close to him, arms spread in the water, paddling slowly.

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He reaches out to hold her, to keep her from drifting. Then he dives, reaches his arms up around her waist and pulls her under. Miranda scrambles to the surface, gasping water, splashing for balance. She is a full head shorter than Vassily and a rising wave, swelling up towards the shore, pushes her towards him. He holds her shoulders to steady her. They stand close together. Miranda pushes the hair back from her face then rests them on his upper arms, balancing herself, bodies close.

Another wave lifts her in the water and pushes her body against his. His hands under water on her hips. Vassily falls back into the water, pulls Miranda forward onto him while he kicks towards shore. They stand as they get closer to shore, Miranda again stumbles on the pebbles. He has an arm around her shoulder, Miranda slips and arm around his waist as they both step up to the beach. Waking back to the towels Miranda drops her arm. Dries herself, runs her Hustler forum stories through her wet hair, shakes her head, strands of hair whipping about.

She replaces her wide brimmed hat then stretches out on her stomach. After a moment Miranda rolls over into her back, the arm closest to Vassily tucked back behind her head. Vassily rests on his side, propped on an elbow, facing her.

Binoculars lowered a moment, Jason wipes perspiration from his eyes and adjusts his sitting position. Tight in the shade of the chapel, elbows propped on knees for stability. Again eyes to binoculars, the circle Hustler forum stories light filled with the water's edge, then the footprints in the sand, then the two of them laying on their towels.

Vassily is delicately brushing at sand which has dried on her lightly tanned skin. He brushes it from the curve of her hip, plays at digging grains from the pit in her abdomen. His lips move silently. Miranda must laugh, doubles up, then stretches out again. His fingers brush over her abdomen while talking, then rests motionless at her waist, palm flat fingers spread. Miranda raises the brim of her hat, tilts her head up to look at him. Exchanging words. Miranda lowers her head again onto her curled arm. Vassily's hand circles casually, slowly over her abdomen, up her side.

Miranda twitches at the delicate tickle. He again makes short brush strokes at isolated grains of sand, on her stomach, then over the curve of a breast, traces a finger around a light chocolate nipple. His body inches closer to hers, his hand slides down over her stomach and abdomen then up again, fingers closing around her breast.

Miranda places a hand on his forearm, seeming to stop him. Jason takes another deep breath. Miranda's fingers continue along Vassily's arm and up to his shoulder. Vassily continues the slow caressing of her breasts, his finger tips dimpling the soft pliant mounds. He lowers his head closer to her, says something. In reply Miranda tucks both arms up to pillow her head, arches he back, breasts invitingly mounded over her ribs, her legs ease apart slightly, knees fallen open.

Vassily sits up and kneels between her legs. He begins to caress her body with both hands in a slow rhythm. Fingers play along her sides over her armpits along the Hustler forum stories of her arms then down to cup both breasts, squeezing their softness once, twice. Palms slide down her stomach, grip her waist to pull her closer to him, her thighs on his, legs open around his him. Miranda's head drifts from side to side in rhythm with Vassily's touch.

Her head tilts back, her chest expands as Miranda inhales more deeply, curving her back to press her breasts into both his hands. He leans forward bending over her.

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They must again exchange words. Vassily again shift position, legs straight, his body between her spread legs. Vassily supports himself on one elbow, his back to the chapel. Miranda has her hands on Vassily's shoulders. He rolls his hips into her, but their bathing suits are still on. Miranda's legs is raised, one fallen outward with him pressing his hips into her, hands gripping her, pulling her into him. Awkward shifts Hustler forum stories position, his movement become more insistent.

Miranda's hat has fallen to one side. Her eyes closed, neck arched, mouth open wider, breasts rise and fall. Jason again lowers the binoculars, wipes the perspiration from his eyes. The rocky hillside throws the sun's heat onto him. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then raises the binoculars. Miranda has her hand between their bodiesdoing something, positioning. Vassily thrusts, Miranda's expression tight, eyes wincing.

She bites her lower lip. Blood pounds through Jason's ears, his own breathing heavy, fingers shaking. He drops the binoculars and rubs at his eyes with his fingers. When he next peers down, both Vassily and Miranda have stood, collecting their things. Jason checks his watch. Not even one o'clock.

They walk along the shore, Hustler forum stories the footpath up the far side of the cove to where Vassily's scooter is parked. Vassily is taking her somewhere. Jason quickly stands, collects his day pack and moves onto the footpath overland to the village. If he hurries, it will still take him 45 minutes.

Up two flights of stairs, standing in their room. She should have been back by now. He takes a quick shower, dries off, slips on his shorts and a t-shirt, stands in the middle of the room in his bare feet. It is almost 2pm. Out on the balcony, he looks over the village, the olive trees dotting the terraces, the sea in the distance.

The door to their room opens.

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