Samesex/incubus.ff
                                      Incubus
                                 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
                                               more.
                 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
                                                Bob"
                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.

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  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
                                            fingertips.
                  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
                                                tan.
                             to More Bi-Sexual Sex Stories 
                                                  

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