We had been together six years now and he was my first and only sexual partner. Sex is and always was lovemaking with him and although in the early years we would wake horny during a thunderstorm to enjoy each other and listen to the rain, recently things were perfunctory and predictable from his side. I enjoyed the oral sex, both giving and receiving, but the act of penetration was something I just wanted over with. I had noticed my lack of attraction to him over the past year, his prolonged stints at the computer, a tiny roll of belly fat starting to show and worst of all, the incessant nose-picking all day long, right in front of my face. I could walk into the room wet and stark naked, sweaty and pretty after a run, or dolled up for a night out, but he wouldn't notice it. It was beginning to chip away at my patience and by the time we were on the trip and having had to listen to a full two weeks of Ken and Paul's wonderfully spontaneous and kinky sex stories, I was losing my shit.
That afternoon we had a walk on the perfect brown beach where the group, which, I should mention, has a very raunchy sense of humor and poor social boundaries, joked once again about orgies. Paul and Ken asked Mark and me when we would finally consummate our foursome. Having laughingly told Ken I was not into Paul, we all headed up to the dive center. Standing around the counter, talking, the lights cut for a moment and Ken slid his hand up my denim shorts and cupped my butt, skin on skin. I was embarrassingly wet, almost immediately and confused. He smiled at me and said nothing much else. Then at dinner, he brushed his leg up against mine. I, however, dismissed this and we all continued to have a cool evening at the beach shack dinner joint.
Ken is a twenty-five-year-old white male, tallish and pale, with cropped curly sandy hair. His eyes are blue as planet earth viewed from space and he is devilishly naughty when he smiles. He loves to kitesurf, dive, adventure, gym and is a sculpted, handsome man. He is big and a beast of sorts. Not my type, at all. He sleeps with whomever, whenever and is known to claim he can have whomever he wants. Recently, he left a beautiful and talented graphic designer whom he swears was the one, as her mother was a right pain in the ass. We are classmates and from the moment he touched me as the lights went out he tore open a part of myself and my kink I never even knew existed.
It was day two of the holiday and disaster struck when I failed to descend at our first dive. I panicked, for the first time in thirteen dives, and refused to go under. Mark, my boyfriend, shut me out heavily after the dive, citing that it wasn't about money or cost, but that I was weak and he didn't stand weakness in his life. I teared up and I left to wipe my eyes in the bathroom, all in front of Mark and Ken. Ken was kind; he was an advanced diver and despite having banked close to one hundred and fifty dives he told me it was normal, had happened to him before at a depth and to ignore Mark.
This incident happened again on dive three, day three. Mark, who wasn't diving a second time for the day was not around so Ken accompanied me to the practice pool with our dive instructor to sort my shit out. Feeling much better after a pool dive, we sat down under the boma at the dive center, drinking warming beers and reading a book of his together while it poured down outside. I thought about the day before where I had sent him a few suggestive emojis, in jest, and he had laughed, sending me a picture of myself reclining reading a book at the pool. We didn't touch at all in the time we were reading.
As soon as Mark and the others arrived back from the second dive, I sent him the exact same emojis. He gave me a naughty look and said, "Missy, what is going on with you, eh?"
"I don't know what I want," was what I said. It was true and on the car ride home, he had his leg warm against mine all the way, smiling out the window.
Later that evening, we all went out to dinner at the local sandy-ass beach bar. Having drunk a tipsy-inducing number of ciders, we were all jammed into the car again. In the dark, Ken's right hand reached over and found my upper thigh, brushing it at first under my dress. I didn't stop it. As the car rolled on, he slid his left arm over my right knee, lifting with minimal effort and seemingly just resting it there. All the while his right hand moved along my inner thigh and against my lacy white underwear. Being so big and strong, he swept my underwear aside as if a leaf or feather with his finger and felt how wet I was at that time. First one and then two fingers moved inside of me as the four by four bumped along the dirt road to the beach bar. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as he fingered me, beckoning me like I still hadn't got Mark to do right after five years. I have never been so close to coming just from fingering as I was for what could only have been ten minutes. As we came to a stop, lights, and music blaring from the joint, he withdrew and sucked me off his fingers with relish. I felt giddy, horny and nodded when he said, "take it to the grave?" I fucked Mark that night thinking of Ken fingering me while from on top and I felt like I was on fire.
As the days went on, things began to intensify but simmered just below boiling point. There would be touching legs in the car, his manly and muscular, massaging my feminine feet. He would graze my arms and legs too while sitting together on sofas or on the beach of a massive freshwater lake on my birthday. We began messaging each other, telling the other about what we wanted to do. He wanted to fuck me, followed me into my bedroom to bite his lip and whisper it to me. He showed me his hard on, and fuck it was hot. Secretly he would have his fingers deep inside me while my boyfriend noticed nothing. I loved the way he licked my wetness off of himself afterward. He always told me I tasted great... Mark had never even liked the stuff on his mouth afterward.
I love the way he looked at me. Like I was the most beautiful and sexy perfect thing he could hope to see or fuck. We spoke and he asked if I had a vibrator. I said, "Sadly, no."
"Well that has to change, we're taking you shopping when we get back to town. You're way too sexual a person not to have one!" I felt intoxicated by my own inner sexual goddess. I felt so alive and exciting. On my first successful dive of the trip he helped adjust my weight belt, his hands strong and sure even underwater and after he saw how free and happy I finally was underwater again, caught me for a moment and hung upside down looking into my eyes translating how yummy he was at that moment. He smiled from behind his regulator. "I love the way you move underwater," he texted me that night. I could only smile and shift as my underwear became slippery yet again for the day.
At the pizza place the fourth evening, owned by a questionable Italian man from Mozambique, we sat next to each other and I was so close to coming I couldn't think. I stroked his inner thigh and he couldn't hold a conversation either. The next day at lunch I slid my foot up his leg and into his crotch. He placed it inside his shorts and he almost came right there in front of the seafood. I was high on myself and how goddamn sexy he was.
All this time, my Mark was oblivious to what was going on. I still touched him, cared for him all day and had pretty good sex (by his own account) almost every night, high on my own sexual fumes.
One day at the beach, Ken had sucked on my nipples and I had stroked his erect penis, enjoying a salty kiss with some tongue, after which he said, "I just want you to stand there naked while I jerk off to you." So while the others swam in the sea, I stood in the doorway of the four sleeper room, breathing faster than I ever had while stationary and with a head rush as I watched him do it and come right there onto the bedroom floor. God, he was fucking adorable and horny. It took everything I had not to just scoop up some of his come on a finger and lick it off before kissing him again.
I had already decided I wanted Ken for myself, not caring that my boyfriend just wasn't doing me right and probably wasn't ever going to.
Having negotiated a break in the relationship with Mark after the holiday, I was a free woman. Christmas had come and gone and graduation was a bittersweet affair as Mark and I had pretty much been through all our academic years together. He deserved to celebrate with me and we did. It was a tender time. Now I was all moved in at my aunt's, while she was away with her kids and I settled into start work as a doctor come January. Mark was back in our home province with his supervisor, already working on new projects for the upcoming year. I was alone; I messaged Ken.
His room was smaller than expected as he shared with a bunch of Superbros, as he called them. Protein shake drinking, girl fucking, gym-klapping 'boets.' We were alone, as he worked flexible hours, running his own partnership with a city-famous business magnet, while the others were at their air conditioned offices in Sandton doing law, accounting, and finance. We had gone for a small lunch at the mall and purchased a discreet and sleek vibrator I thought was pretty. All the time that gorgeous smile with the sun-cracked lips and the looks followed me as I shopped. He was dressed in formal pants and shoes, with a crisp white shirt tucked in. His hair was neatly scruffed back.
When we got to his, he immediately took charge. My handbag was flung onto a nearby couch and my face was being held in an urgent kiss. "I'm going to be your sexual epiphany," he said, as he his erection strained against my thin dress and I was lifted onto a kitchen counter. My dress was being hiked up and I was told to lie down. I admired his cufflinks as he kissed me over my underwear and looked up into my eyes saying "Mmm" with those blue eyes hungrily moving from my face to my pussy.
He drank, rather than ate me out like he was thirsty and couldn't get enough. His whole face was submerged and it was so good. He licked his fingers and while some slid into me with a gasp escaping my mouth, others tickled my labia. He always enjoyed my skin and legs so those were getting plenty of wet kisses and licks as things progressed.
My nipples were kissed, sucked, rubbed and fondled to my enjoyment and with a friendly tongue deep inside me intermittently I came happily from that alone. "You're dripping wet. Jesus, you drive me crazy. I have wanted you since we were off-site in July, hoped I could go down on you in the computer room. I just want to fuck you."
I gave a blowjob only two men know the worth of to this day and it was well received. He handled his cock so confidently, throwing my leg over his shoulder and the other into the crook of his elbow, and slid his throbbing cock into me with a groan. It was wide and deep and he stroked me from the inside, slow and pressured, totally losing himself in me, licking my skin and my neck while he progressed. His fingers were wet and he toyed with my nipples and then found their way down to my labia and gently throbbing clit to gently tap and slide it against my landing strip. Not long after my ass was also being squeezed in between all of this. My body didn't stand a chance caught up in that riptide of a man and I came with force and a wave of controlled insanity that he was fully in control of.
After, he told me again how sexy he found my skin and my legs. He called me his little nympho whore and kissed me on the mouth, fully and with confidence, and I laughed, reaching for his already hard cock. He stopped my hand and leaned over the bed to grab the beautiful vibrator...
I never did fuck Ken again after that time and we are still close friends, but he opened up the sexy, brown, nympho that I really am and I will never forget that. Thank you, Ken. Thank you.