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Archive-name: Samesex/incubus.ff

Archive-author: Incubus

Archive-title: See You in a Dream

You said you might need a little rest so here is a vacation for you!

I decided I needed a break from the rigors of my hectic and often

cutthroat advertising job.  I visited a friend who runs a travel

agency, and she suggested an exclusive resort she knew in

Martinique.  It sounded fabulous.  I was packed and on an airplane

within a week.

Arriving, I breathed deeply of the rich, tropical air, full of

promise of warmth, sunshine and relaxation.  A short taxi ride

later, I found myself at the resort, which was every bit as

beautiful as promised, a lush garden spot of private bungalows with

restaurant, disco, pool and its own, private beach tucked away among

the rocky shore line.  They were expecting me, and check-in was a

breeze.  Within minutes I was alone in the luxurious bungalow that

was to be mine for the next few days, tall rum punch in hand.

Finishing my drink, I reached up and loosened the knot at the back

of my head, shaking my thick, blond hair down about my shoulders.  I

removed my conservative suit, unhooked my bra to a sigh of relief

and kicked off my panties.  I slipped into a silk kimono, loving its

whisper against my skin, and finished unpacking my bags and putting

away the contents.

Peeking through the curtains at the back of the bungalow, I saw the

trail that leads down to beach, and decided a little sun would be

nice.  I got out a tiny bikini I had purchased, on a whim, just

before leaving home.  I had never worn a bathing suit so barely

there before, but figured, what the hell.  After all, you only live

once.  I let the kimono fall to the floor, and gave a critical eye

to myself in the full-length mirror.

Not too bad, I thought.  My breasts were still firm and without sag,

if maybe a little small.  I workout regularly, and it shows in my

nearly flat tummy and well-rounded butt.  Men tell me I have nice

legs, and I was lucky enough to be blessed with a pleasant face and

good complexion.  My hair hung just to my nipples, which were

crinkled and erect with the blast of the air conditioner.  I brought

my hands lightly to the undersides of my breasts, pushing up and

lightly rolling my nipples between thumb and forefinger, feeling a

jolt between my legs.  My hand strayed to my pussy.  My blond pubic

hair was close-cropped, and my labia were visible through it.  I ran

a finger lightly up and down my slit, once, twice, feeling the

wetness grow.  I pressed a fingertip against my clit and was shocked

at the sensation as I gave out a little gasp and my thighs parted

involuntarily.  God, it had been so long since I had sex!

Enough!, I thought, shaking myself from my revery.  I pulled the new

bikini on and glanced in the mirror.  God, I thought, it seems even

smaller than in the shop.  Too late now.  It's the only one I

brought.  I put the kimono back on over it, self consciously

tightening the belt, and stepped out into the warm tropical air.

I strode bravely along the trail, managing to ignore the

appreciative glances a couple of people gave me.  Turning the corner

that opened out of the jungle-like landscaping to the beach stopped

me in my tracks, though.

The resort's private beach was a narrow crescent of white sand

fronting a beautiful lagoon.  It was maybe a hundred yards long,

giving way to rugged, rocky shore line at either end.  What had

stopped me was not its beauty, though.  There were maybe thirty

people on the beach.  Most were nude.  The few women not completely

naked were topless.  No one seemed to notice me as I stood there,

breathless, almost not daring to move.

A young woman lay on her stomach, nude, not fifteen feet away, her

feet toward me and thighs parted slightly.  Kneeling above her, a

gorgeous, tanned young man was rubbing suntan oil onto her butt.

With each backstroke, her cheeks parted and coarse black pubic hair

showed.  His semi-erect cock bobbed up and down.  A little drop of

moisture at the tip of it sparkled in the sunlight, and I felt a

throb in my pussy.  He looked up and smiled, perfect white teeth

shining, then returned his attention to his task.  His penis swelled


Tearing my gaze away, I walked across the beach to the shore line.

Feeling the warm water lap against my ankles, I shrugged off the

kimono, and after a moment's consideration, removed my top.  I waded

along the shore line, trying to gather my wits, following along the

rocky shore as the rocks towered higher and higher, until I came to

the entrance of a small grotto.  A sound came to me, and I ducked

behind a rock, gazing into the shadows of the grotto.

A young woman stood in the shadows, her back to me, and she seemed

to be singing in French.  She was nude, and her tiny, tanned body

showed not a hint of bikini lines.  Her legs were spread and her

labia were prominent between her thighs.  If she had any pubic hair,

it was cropped even closer than mine.  I could tell by the way she

held her arms that she was laying with her own breasts.  I could

just imagine her lover, deeper in the grotto, watching her

performance, as one of her hands came down to her crotch.  As it

turned out, she was alone.

She swayed slowly, sagging to her knees, as her fingers danced in

her pussy.  Falling forward, her ass stuck in the air, she was

totally open to my mesmerized gaze.  Without really thinking of what

I was doing, I slipped a hand into the front of my bikini panty and

began a slow circling action on my clit while the other hand tweaked

my rock-hard nipples.  Her song had turned to moans and it was all I

could do to keep quiet as she convulsed into orgasm.  I bit my lip

and shuddered right along with her, wave after wave of pleasure

beginning at my clit and spreading throughout me.  I sagged against

the rock, my hand still at my throbbing pussy, my eyes closed and

the tropical sun beating down on my back.

God, I nearly had a heart attack when I felt a soft touch on my

shoulder!  I whirled, yanking my hand out of my bottoms and self-

consciously covering my breasts.  It was her!  She just stood there,

piercing me with her gaze.  Her long dark hair framed a model's face

with deep brown eyes like dark pools.  Finally, she spoke: "You, eh,

enjoy what you see?", She asked, her thick French accent musical and

lilted.  She smiled.

Blood rushed to my face and I stammered "Uh, gee, I, Uh, I'm sorry,

I didn't mean to spy on y. . . . "

"Shhh.  Shhh-shhhh, not to worry.  It is ze tropics, no?  It makes

one feel so, how you say, very sexy!  I am Anais and you are . . . ?"

"M-m-misty...," I managed to say, lost in her eyes.

"Well, Misty, you will join me for ze beach and ze dinner, no?"  She

smiled and took my trembling hand in her soft fingers while my heart

pounded in my throat.  "Come-come..." She led me back down the

beach, her nude body glorious in the sun, talking animatedly the

whole way.  You have to understand something.  I am NOT a lesbian!

I never even considered myself bisexual.  My only real sexual

experience was with my ex-husband.  I did manage to learn to give

and receive oral sex with a man when I was in college . . . but I

was a virgin when I married.  I've never even KNOWN a gay or

bisexual woman!

The afternoon went by in a blur of sun, talk, laughter, and rum

punch.  I felt years of marital discordance and job stress melt away

as I listened to Anais's beautiful accent and low laughter.  We

shared stories and laughed at nothing.  We rubbed suntan oil on one

another and I marveled at the feel of her breasts, her ass cheeks in

my hands, not caring if anyone was watching.  Once, she leaned over

while oiling me and lightly nibbled my right nipple, just a quick

nip.  Another time her fingers strayed against my swollen pussy

lips while rubbing oil on my thighs, just one light firm rub.

By the time dinner was over, there was no longer any doubt in my

mind.  I wanted her.

We went to the disco.  It was early in the evening and the place was

nearly deserted as the reggae music boomed out.  Anais led me to a

small table in a dark corner, and a waiter brought white wine.

Anais took my hand and placed it on her firm thigh, then guided it

up as she spread her legs.  I gasped when my fingers touched her

pussy.  She wore no panties, and her pussy was soaked as I worked a

finger along her slit.  She raised her hips a little, and my finger

sank into her heat.  She clamped her thighs about my wrist,

trapping my hand, and brought a hand up to cup my breast.  "Look,"

she whispered, motioning toward the dance floor.  "It's Dafne and


I saw the couple I had first seen on the beach.  Her back was to me,

and Bob had raised her tiny miniskirt in the rear as they slow-

danced about the floor.  His huge hand completely covered the tiny

ass cheek he was kneading.  One of her hands was between them, from

the motion of her elbow she was obviously stroking his cock.  One

shoulder of her mini-dress slipped down, and Bob bent his head to

her breast.

Anais ran a finger along the bodice of my sun-dress, dipping it into

my cleavage.  Suddenly, I felt fabric rip as she tugged sharply

down, and my left breast bobbed into view.  Before I could react,

her sharp little teeth were nipping at my breast and tugging on my

nipple.  Her pussy gave a little squeeze on my finger, and I slowly

finger-fucked her as her breath grew hot and quick against my tit.

Her hips rocked into my hand and I felt my pussy grow wetter.

Suddenly, she sat upright, pushing my hand from her crotch.  "Let's

go," she said, rose and walked away.  I clasped the torn fabric to

my breast and followed her from the club and down the trail to the

beach, our way made easy by the moonlight.  When we reached the edge

of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me.

"Take off your clothes.  I want to see you!"

I shrugged out of the torn dress and stepped out of my soaked

panties, which she lifted to her face.  "Mmmmmm," she breathed,

inhaling my scent from them, her eyes glued to my body.  Slowly, she

stripped her own dress off.  The moonlight on her dark body just

seemed to make her that much more desirable.  Suddenly, she giggled.

Tossing my panties to me, she laughed, "Catch me . . . if you can!!"

She took off toward the water.

I finally caught up with her at the grotto where I had first seen

her, and we collapsed on the sand, sides heaving with laughter and

the exertion of our run.  Finally, she rose and went to a little

shelf in the rock, where she picked up a book of matches.  She began

to light little votive candles here and there, slowly,

ritualistically, one match for each candle, until her body swam in

moon-glow and dancing multicolored light from the flames.

She came to me and took my hands, pulling me to my feet, and pressed

her body to mine.  As if it were the most natural thing in the

world, my lips parted when her tongue probed my mouth in a deep

kiss, our very first.  Our hands roamed freely over each other's

body, and my breath grew quick.  I was so wet my juices were running

freely down my thighs and I wanted her to touch my pussy so badly!

Instead, she pushed me away, sat on the sand and whispered to me.

"Go ahead, Misty"

Suddenly I knew what she wanted.  Shyly at first, I let a hand trail

to my pussy, her eyes locked on mine.  Parting my sparse curls, I

ran a fingertip slowly up and down my crease, getting it wetter with

each pass, while my other hand began to squeeze and fondle my small

breasts.  My fingertip found my clit, and I gasped aloud, pressing

into it while my thighs spread wide.

Anais rose to her knees and pulled me to her, gazing up at me with a

question in her eye, the very tip of her pink tongue visible between

her lips.  "Oh, yes, Anais," I breathed.  She didn't wait any

longer, pulling my wet fingers from my vagina and replacing them

with her tongue.

It happened so fast I don't really remember it.  One minute I was

standing there and the next I was on my back in the sand, Anais's

mouth kissing her way back up my tummy to my breasts as the final

spasms of an incredible orgasm wracked my body.  I do remember at

one point touching her face and feeling her muscles work as she

slowly pushed her tongue in and out of me like a stubby little cock.

She kissed me, and I smelled and tasted my own secretions on her

face and lips.  As my breath returned to normal, she merely asked

"Are you ready, Misty?"  And I was!  I pushed her onto her back and

bent between her widespread thighs.  Her aroma met my nostrils and

it beckoned me, drew me closer until my lips met those of her pussy

and I tasted another woman for the first time.  My tongue parted her

lips and probed, and it was as if a soft dam broke in her vulva,

flooding it with her juices.  Her hips rose to meet me as I circled

her clit, and I heard her gasping something over and over, in

French.  It finally dawned on me what it was, a number, a

wonderfully explicit number, and I swung my body around, not

relinquishing her pussy from my mouth as I straddled her face and

felt her hot tongue on my clit and her breasts against my tummy.  I

felt her fingertip gently caress my anus, not trying to enter, just

touching, and my vagina began to flutter.

I was so close, so very close, when suddenly Anais came without

warning, her hips arching up high.  As she pushed my face up with

her pussy I saw a sight I shall never forget . .  Bob and Dafne

standing at the entrance to "our"  grotto.  Dafne was on her knees

with Bob's huge cock deep in her mouth, her nose just brushing his

pubic hair, and their eyes locked onto mine as I erupted into wave

after wave of orgasm, my thighs clamping Anais's face to my

spasuming pussy, her tongue ravishing my throbbing clitoris.

Well, I never thought of myself as an exhibitionist, either.  In

fact, the very idea of somebody watching me make love would have

mortified me.  Blame it on Martinique, I guess, because knowing Bob

and Dafne were watching as I sucked Anais's clit really set me off!

I have never come so hard in my life as I did then.  I guess it

turned them on too.  Bob exploded into tiny Dafne's mouth with such

force that thick globules of his semen slipped from her lips and

drooled down her chin.  She was moaning with delight, cooing around

his member while her own body shook from the dance her fingers were

doing between her thighs.

Later, after we had all caught our breath, Anais introduced them to

me for the first time.  Bob and Dafne owned the resort, and had

lived in Martinique all their lives.  Dafne, it turned out, spoke

only French, but the sperm-flavored kiss she gave me when Anais

introduced us, said far more than words ever could.  Bob spoke some

English, although not well, so Anais translated for them.  Anais

worked for them, she explained, as an administrative assistant for

the resort, handling large corporate accounts, that sort of thing.

They invited us to spend the evening with them at their house, just

up the beach from the grotto.

Their home was magnificent!  Split-leveled, it nestled in the rocky

shore-line just yards from the water.  The entire ocean-side of the

home was one enormous glass wall with a commanding view of the

lagoon.  They led us around the side of the house to a huge wooden

deck surrounding a free-form swimming pool.  A bathhouse stood at

one end, and they led us there, where we showered away the sand,

seawater and sweat.  Still dripping from the shower, we dove into

the delightfully warm pool.

We splashed and played in the pool for thirty minutes or so, like a

bunch of children.  Finally tiring, we gathered in the shallow end.

Bob stepped out of the pool and walked toward the bathhouse.  I

stood there, Dafne snuggled under one arm and Anais under the other,

and I think all three of us were admiring his body and the way his

muscles moved.  Bob picked up a phone on the wall of the bathhouse

and said a few words in French then hung up.  I couldn't help but

notice the way his penis swung from side to side as he walked back

toward us.

He flashed another of those perfect smiles.  "Michel will bring ze

towels," he said in English.  Anais explained to me that Michel was

their houseboy.  Dafne and Anais started up the steps, and I watched

for a lingering second, entranced by their beauty and the

differences between them.  Dafne was much darker than Anais, with

short dark hair and brown eyes.  Between her legs was a luxurious,

thick thatch of jet-black hair, quite a contrast to Anais's shaved

Mons.  She was even smaller than Anais, but had breasts larger than

either of us, with wide, dark aureole.

I started to step out of the pool, water streaming from my body, as

Michel arrived with an arm load of towels.  A tall, muscular boy, he

could have been anywhere between eighteen and twenty two.  I was

determined to be as nonchalant about my nudity as my new-found

friends were as I reached for the proffered towel, but something

about the way he looked at me had a lump in my throat.  I felt my

nipples crinkle up and my vagina contract as he studied my body.   I

don't think he once took his eyes from my blond pubic hair, and I

could still feel his eyes on me after we had toweled off and

started toward the house.

We relaxed in a large, airy den, not bothering to dress, and Bob

poured wine for all us.  Handing glasses to Anais and Dafne, he

turned toward me with the final glass, then suddenly tripped on a

rug.  I was drenched in white wine!  Before I could even gasp with

shock, though, I had a bigger surprise as all three of my new

friends began to cleanse the wine from my body with their tongues!

Anais concentrated on one breast, Dafne the other, and Bob knelt on

the floor between my thighs, which were widening of their own accord

from the sudden attention.  He licked my tummy clean, probing

insistently at my navel, then dipped lower, lapping at my pussy.

My eyes fluttered shut as I concentrated on the wonderful feelings

coursing through my body.  My arms reached around the two girls, and

I hefted Dafne's large breast in one hand, feeling the nipple come

erect under my palm.  Anais twisted around a little and guided my

other hand to her shaved vulva, and I probed a finger into her

wetness.  Bob pulled me down to the floor, and the four of us moved

as one, their mouths never leaving my skin.  Someone kissed me, a

soft mouth, and I opened my mouth to the fluttering tongue before I

even looked to see who it was . . . beautiful Dafne.  She tasted so

sweet!  I dropped a hand to her pussy, parting her curly hair and

ran a finger along her cleft.  She was as wet as Anais and myself,

and gasped into my mouth when my fingers found her swollen little

love button.

Anais rose and swung a leg across my face, lowering her pussy to my

mouth, and I eagerly began to lick her.  Bob spread my legs wider,

and I felt Anais's tongue at my clit as he slowly, so slowly,

pressed his huge cock into me.  My God, he was so big, so hard, and

I wanted him deep inside me so badly.  There was no pain, only

pleasure, but as he began to stroke it in and out I felt it reach

places that had never been touched!  I felt an orgasm began to well

up in me, and my hips rocked to meet his powerful strokes.

Anais shifted forward slightly, and I opened my eyes to see a huge,

penis.  Michel!  The head was wet with pre-come, and I licked it off

hungrily as Anais reached behind her, her tiny hand pumping the

shaft.  I guided it into her pussy, marveling at how it stretched

her labia as he began to fuck in and out of her.  I licked the

glistening shaft and his balls, her lips and clit, anything I could,

as my orgasm erupted.  My body was on fire!  I felt Bob's cock swell

inside me, and rocked my hips into him harder, faster, harder, and

he erupted, shooting molten pleasure into the deepest parts of my

seething canal.  Dafne was reaching her own orgasm at my busy


Michel pulled his penis out of Anais, the head just touching her

labia, and began to come as well.  Thick gobs of the stuff streamed

out, covering her lips and my face, as I tried to get all of it in

my hungry mouth, lapping ravenously at her pussy and the head of his

marvelous tool.

What more can I say?  We passed the rest of the night in hedonistic

pleasure, making love in every conceivable combination, until we

collapsed into a sweaty, satiated pile.  Bob at one point even

videotaped Dafne, Anais and I as we got into a three-girl "daisy

chain," bringing one another to shuddering orgasms with our tongues.

A copy of that tape is one of my most treasured possessions now.

I gave up my high-pressure advertising job, and moved to Martinique

to stay.  I am now the director of marketing for Dafne and Bob's

resort, which caters exclusively to swinging couples and select

singles.  Anais and I share a beautiful bungalow at the resort, and

often mingle and party with our guests.  Maybe I'll see YOU there

sometime!  I'm easy to spot . . . I'm the blond with the all-over



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