Becky Li

My heart still hammered in my chest but he seemed almost unaffected by our near-death experience. I was speechless, not to say exhausted, so we both made our way slowly back to shore, swimming lazily on our backs, as the creamy white threads of life escaped from within my board-shorts and were lost in the sea. As we sat together, drying-off back on one of the old concrete railway piers, I wanted to ask him so many questions teen but somehow I knew he was never going to answer them. “I’ve still got your Celtic talisman, you know,” I told him, “You know, the one you left on my bed in Scotland.” “You’re not wearing it though, are you!” he teased. His deep blue eyes seemed to twinkle as he spoke. I reached into my back-pack and brought it out in my hand. “It doesn’t really suit me,” I said, “but I kept it with me, always, just in case. Besides, it looks much better on you.” I offered it back to him. “Nah. You keep it,” he said, “You need something to remind you that I’m real.” He looked at me, knowingly, and he smiled at me, the dimples in his cheeks momentarily disturbing the lines of his sharply cultivated 5 o’clock shadow-beard. There was no doubt about it; I was totally smitten. He was adorable in every possible way. I loved him, like a brother yes, but also as more than a brother. We hadn’t been there long and had exchanged little more than these few words when he looked at his watch and said, “I’m afraid I’ve got to dash. Some local guys I met this morning at the dock tits said I could go out with them and find out about deep-water fishing. I’ve always wanted to do that. I need to get back.” And with that, he jumped up and brushing my damp hair back from my face with his hand in an affectionate gesture, he bent down and kissed me goodbye. He sprang off, up the path that led away from the beach, with the nimbleness of a mountain goat and with an energy I would not recover for at least another half-hour. Part Two Later that afternoon, I had worked my way across to another part of the island and I had found an old fort to explore, set above a deserted beach on which I was now enjoying my packed lunch. Looking out across the beautiful azure-blue of the sea, mottled by reefs and shallows, I noticed a launch in the distance, crossing the lagoon. It was one of those high-powered, sea-launches with a canopied top deck and a low sheltered aft, designed for diving or fishing. It seemed to slow down, nearly stopping, and although it was a long way off, I could see that there were about 4 or 5 people on board, laughing and joking. The feint sound of reggae music wafted across the otherwise quiet lagoon and I figured those on board were having a good time. I continued to watch the launch and its occupants, as I idly enjoyed the warmth and soft silkiness of the sand between my toes. Although I couldn’t see the figures in detail, one of them caught my eye. He was medium height, with dark hair, blue shorts and a pale shirt of some kind. Something about him told me it was Deryk. At first, he seemed to be larking about with the others but after a few minutes, the atmosphere seemed to change; the music was turned up, as if to drown shouting and it looked as though all the others were concentrating attention on him. Arms were thrown in the air in odd gestures and I realized there was some kind of struggle going on. One of the guys was pointing out from the rear of the boat at something in the water. Then it all happened in boat a flash, as I sat unseen on the tiny beach, unable to do anything to stop it. Deryk was thrown overboard and the launch lurched into life, surging around him in a wide circle, as the occupants of the boat laughed and pointed at him. asian They quickly seemed to lose interest though and the launch then set off at high speed, leaving Deryk behind in the water, shouting after them. The music tiny faded and the launch was quickly out of sight beyond the headland. Soraya was there, her bronze body bound in boat leather that squeezed her supple assets to the point of pain, a collar around her neck from which dangled her Domina’s leash. Liz briskly walked over to her bedroom and came back a few seconds later with a box of condoms. I know him well enough to know if he’s being that aware, he needed help. My wife close her legs to allow him to remove it and she was finally naked again. Definitely looking forward to fucking her! My thoughts screamed. I was sure tiny that she had given in to her intoxication and lust. I broke speeding laws to get us there. It stood in the middle of the basement that served as their workshop. She teen knelt there with his erect cock in her mouth. [Smiling] She was never a mother to me anyway, maybe to Jasmine. I tell him. He took a finger and pushed the sticky substance tits down into her ass crack, rubbing against her brown eye. Jace moans out my name and cums on my face. That’s another thing I like about wresting, it’s indoors. Her scream was the most intensely satisfied I've ever heard from her, reverberating around the small asian space and out into the world.