I licked around the head, my lips making noisy smacking sounds. With the hand on his bu**ocks, I guided him up the bed, closer to me, so I could get more of him into my mouth.
He glanced around, saying, “How is it that I'm on top, and yet I feel like I have no control at all.”
“Mm,” I said, and that answered his question enough for him to stop talking.
He pressed one hand against the wall above my head and gripped the edge of the headboard with his other hand.
With my head propped up, and my leg, and some of his weight upon me, I felt absolutely comfortable. His beautiful cock, which I'd always been a fan of since the first time I saw it, fit perfectly in my mouth. The relaxing effects of the wine took all the sharpness out of the world, and I was completely in the moment, not thinking about the future, but just enjoying the c**k in my mouth and the man above me, his face contorted by pleasure.
I lost myself in the enjoyment of giving him head, and I didn't realize how close he'd gotten to orgasm until he quickly pulled out from my mouth. We made eye contact for a few seconds, neither saying a word, and then he peeled down my bikini bottoms and carefully removed them, mindful of my bandaged foot.
He straddled my legs, with his knees on the outsides of mine, and guided his c**k between my legs. My pu**y folds were slick and ready for him. He pushed his c**k down between my legs and in. He lay on top of me, though with his legs still outside mine. As he pushed in and out, I could feel his shaft and sac on my inner thighs, hugging him, like an extension of my pu**y. His c**k was rubbing against me in a new way, and I liked it. I squirmed, my natural instinct being to wrap my legs around his back, opening myself up to him, but he kept me pinned in place.
He kept up his shallow movements, his weight on his elbows on knees, so he was light above me, but still keeping my lower body pinned. We kissed, as we had before, with him languorously kissing and sucking on my lips while steadily pumping in and out of me.
The pleasure grew in small sparks, like a stubborn campfire that won't catch. Everything moved slowly, thanks to my muzzy mind. His c**k seemed to drive ever deeper and deeper, even though he was still shallow, thrusting between my legs. I was on the edge of orgasm when I managed to sneak one leg out from between his. I shifted my lower body, wrapping the leg around him, and he finally drove himself deep into me.
I cried out, loud, and realized I'd been moaning and panting for some time. He sucked on my neck as he moved deeper into me, and I felt him let go.
My bliss rose up and crashed over me like a wave. I clenched my arms around his back, pulling him tight against me, our bodies hot and wet.
He turned his face down as he came, letting out a low noise like a growl.
His hands moved around, underneath me, gripping my bu**ocks as he thrust into me and then became still.
I put my hands on the sides of his head and pulled his face up for a kiss. With his eyes shut tightly, he kissed me and smiled. His eyes opened and his eyebrows went up.
He said, “How's your foot?”
“What foot?” I said, and we both chuckled.
He pulled away from me. Cool air hit my glistening chest and stomach.
Breathing audibly, he lay next to me, one hand still under my buttock. He gave me a little squeeze and said, “How do you like Indonesia?”
Thoughts raced through my head suddenly. Indonesia. It was our last night there, and I'd be returning home the next day. Home. Back to my real life.
I pushed the thoughts away.
“It's perfect,” I said. “I don't want to fall asleep. Give me a few minutes to rest, and we can go outside and look at the stars.”
“The stars?”
“Yeah. I want to see the stars.” I shivered, the fan-driven breeze drying the cooling sweat on my stomach.
“I'll show you the stars,” he said, and he pulled up the light coverlet for the bed, covering me. The blanket felt so good.
“The stars ...” I had every intention of getting out of that bed, but I was so comfortable, and I drifted off to sleep.
I slept straight through the night, and in the morning, my leg felt almost normal. I reached for Luthor in the bed next to me, but found only pillows.
I sat up and noted that his things were gone from the room. With the realization he'd left, I felt both sad and relieved. It was over.
He hadn't ditched me; I'd known he was leaving before us, and we'd discussed it the night before, but I'd forgotten. He was off to somewhere in Europe, Denmark, if memory served, and I'd leave Indonesia the same way I'd arrived—with Suzanne and Simon.
Breakfast was sombre.
Simon kept talking about the fruit juice, about how he'd miss it when we got back home. “You can get it from frozen concentrate, but it's not the same,” he said.
Suzanne pulled her croissant apart and rubbed the spots on her shoulders where she'd gotten sunburned.
Simon poured another glass of juice from the pitcher. “Maybe we could buy a juicer.”
I snapped. “Shut up about the juice already. Who cares! It's just juice.”
He said, “Excuse me for trying to enjoy the avails of your work.”
Suzanne gave him a sharp look, and thanks to that look, I knew she'd blabbed.
Anger flashed through me. “Suzanne, you told him? You told him everything?” I slunk down in my chair. “Great, now all my friends know I'm a whore.”
He stammered, then said, “I haven't told anyone else.”
“Nice.”
The server came to refill our coffee cups, and we all glared at each other silently.
After a moment, Suzanne said, “This reminds me of every vacation I've been on, ever. On the final day, all hell breaks loose. So … we're right on track, I'd say.” She tipped her head to the side and gave me a sad, sympathetic look. “I didn't tell Simon anything, but he's a smart guy, and he figured it out on his own. I may omit details sometimes, but we don't lie to each other. We have a policy of absolute honesty. It's the only way to build trust.”
Simon gave me a sheepish smile. “Don't be angry with my wife. It's all my fault. I was being nosy. You know, I do work for a lot of guys like Luthor. I could probably give you some insight into his psyche, if you're interested.”
I glanced down at my crossed arms and rigid posture. Who was I kidding? I wasn't angry at my friends. They'd done nothing wrong. I uncrossed my arms and shook them out.
“Simon, I'm fine. And I don't need insight. We had our fun, and now it's over. Luthor and I are from different worlds. We don't match up.”
“I wouldn't be so sure of that,” he said, his eyes twinkling.