Sun beats down on the beach. Eyes closed, I replay Léa’s kitchen escape. Her hip under my palm, that troubled flee. Heart races thinking of her body against mine. Angie laughs nearby with Luc. Then Mathilde’s voice jolts me. ‘Cream my back?’ She’s Luc’s girl, prim Asian beauty, tiny frame in orange bikini. Alone now, everyone swims. I kneel, spray her bronzed skin. My huge hands cover her slender back entirely. Cock twitches at the thought of snapping her in doggy. She snaps, ‘What makes you smile?’ I dodge. Then, ‘Be discreet, you two. Heard you with Léa.’ Panic surges. Deny it. She unties her top, back flawless tan. Finish quick, flee to waves.
Evening, bathroom. Léa in white bikini, ass peeking. Alone. Staring at her cleavage as I hang wet clothes. Nipple peeks through fabric. Cock hardens, adjust discreetly. Offer help with her jammed shorts. View her perfect tits up close. Step in, pull her arm. She resists, ‘No.’ But I hug, kiss neck. Back her to shower wall. Her pussy grinds my bulge. ‘Don’t want to be the slut fucking my sister’s man.’ Yet hips buck, soaking me. Hands on my ass, she squeezes, humps frantically. Crush her against plastic wall. Free one breast, firm, nipple hard. Squeeze, she moans, grinds harder.
The Fever
Dinner call echoes. Lips meet, tongues tangle. Free second tit, suck nipples. She fingers her clit. I stroke cock. Her hand cups balls. She cums, quivering silently. Almost kneels for me, but footsteps. Tucks tits away. Hugs me. ‘Chris neglects me.’ Taps my bulge, leaves swaying hips.
The Blaze
Movie night. Others clubbing. In-laws front row. Mathilde beside me, short shorts, thin tee. Texts: ‘Mating me too?’ Knows everything. Threatens Léa. ‘Hand on thigh.’ Skin hot, smooth. Stroke up, down. Fifteen minutes, tension builds. My cock strains. She stops, but I crave more. Kiss her. Hand on her wet pussy through shorts. She strokes me. Fingers inside her tight slit, so narrow. Suck tiny tit, perfect. She jerks expertly, thumb on glans. Double fingers pump, squelch softly. She clamps thighs, cums silent, head back. I explode in her fist, shaking.
The Ashes. Breath ragged, bodies slick. Wipe cum on her tee, juices on shorts. She stares vacant, flees to room. I drift off, skin still buzzing, heart pounding from near-misses. Morning, drunk Angie and Luc stumble in. Check phone: Léa’s 12 unread texts, Mathilde’s 4. Angie’s tits spill out. Slide hand between, unlock phone. Vacation forever scorched in memory. Pulse slows, but fire lingers.