Wine and Palms

Alyson's gaze lingered on his lips a beat too long. They were sitting on the wide veranda of the bungalow, where the evening breeze off the ocean stirred the sheer curtains. A glass of red wine had touched her lower lip for the second time, and she could feel the warmth spreading through her body.

"You were especially... focused during your massage today," she purred, setting the glass down. Her fingers brushed casually across his wrist. "Or was I imagining things?"

Max smiled, not taking his eyes off the neckline of her light sundress. He was thirty-two, she was thirty-eight, and they both already knew this evening on the island wasn't going to end with just conversation.

"I was just thinking about how your hands would look on my back without all that," he replied, low and bold. "Without the mat. Without the clothes."

Alyson laughed softly, but there was already desire ringing in it. She stood, stepped closer. Her hip brushed against his knee.

"Then let's go. The massage table's waiting. And so am I."

They stepped into the dim room of the bungalow. Only the soft glow of oil lamps and the scent of coconut oil. The massage table stood by the window, where palms rustled and the ocean roared beyond. Alyson picked up the bottle of oil, slowly unscrewed the cap.

"Strip. All of it," she said, and the teacher's softness was gone from her voice. Only hunger remained.

Max pulled his t-shirt over his head. His tanned skin gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. He unbuttoned his shorts, and they fell to the floor. His cock was already hard, heavy and straining. Alyson watched, unashamed.

"Lie on your stomach," she whispered, but when he did, her palm immediately landed on his ass, squeezed it. "Actually... turn over. I want to see your face."

He obeyed. His cock stood straight up, pulsing. Alyson set the oil bottle beside her, slowly pulled the ties of her sundress. The fabric slid off her shoulders, baring her full breasts with dark nipples. The dress pooled at her feet. Underneath, only thin panties, which she also peeled off, unhurried, eyes locked on his.

"Like how I take it off?" she asked, running her palms down her thighs.

"Very much," Max breathed. "Come closer."

She stepped to the table. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. The skin was hot, velvet-smooth. Alyson slowly stroked upward, spreading the first bead of pre-cum over the head.

"You're already wet..." she whispered. "And I haven't even started."

Leaning down, she dragged her tongue across his chest, then lower, over his stomach. But she didn't take him in her mouth. Instead, she grabbed the oil, poured a generous amount into her palms, and began working it into his thighs, gradually moving toward his groin. Her breasts brushed against his legs, nipples tracing hard points across his skin.

"I want to fuck you," she said suddenly, bluntly, no games. "Right here. On this table."

Max sat up, grabbed her waist, and yanked her onto his lap. Their mouths collided hungrily. The kiss was wet, deep. His hands kneaded her firm ass, fingers already sliding between her cheeks, finding her slick slit.

"Soaked... completely," he growled against her lips. "Been wanting this for a while?"

"Since the first day of the course," Alyson breathed, grinding against his thighs. Her clit rubbed against the shaft of his cock. "Every time you held warrior pose, I pictured you taking me."

She rose slightly, gripped his cock in her hand, and slowly sank down. The head spread her lips, pushed into her tight, hot cunt. Alyson moaned, head thrown back. Max grabbed her breasts, squeezed, pinched her nipple.

"Deeper... ride me deeper," he demanded.

She sank all the way to the base. His cock filled her completely. Alyson began to move—hard, forceful, as if afraid someone would interrupt. The table creaked beneath them. Wet sounds filled the room: skin slapping skin, ragged breathing, moans.

"Fuck me harder," she whispered into his ear. "I want to feel you tomorrow with every step."

Max stood, never pulling out. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He pressed her back against the wall beside the table. Now his thrusts were deeper, sharper. Every time he drove in to the hilt, Alyson cried out. Her nails dug into his shoulders.

He suddenly slowed, almost fully withdrew, then pushed back in slowly, with a circular motion. Alyson trembled.

"Don't stop... I'm about to..."

"Come on me," he ordered. "I want to feel your pussy clench."

Her body arched. The orgasm hit suddenly, hot and violent. Her cunt pulsed around his cock, flooding out juices that ran down his balls. Alyson screamed, unrestrained, biting his shoulder.

Max held through a few more powerful thrusts, then pulled out. Hot streams of cum splashed onto her stomach, her tits, her nipples. Alyson looked down, panting, and smeared the white drops across her skin with a finger.

They both froze, foreheads pressed together. The ocean roared beyond the window.

"That was just the beginning," Max said quietly, tracing a finger along her lips. "Tomorrow after morning yoga... we're coming back here. And I'll show you what else I can do."

Alyson smiled, fire still burning in her eyes.

"I can't wait."