textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/tropsand.txt

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                         TROPICAL  SANDS
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Yesterday,  the  thoughts  of another cold and bleak  winter  day
filled my head and today,  those thoughts were only memories.  In
just  a  few  hours I would be sucking up sun  and  feeling  sand
between  my  toes,  running along virgin stretches of  beach  and
swimming among the corals of some tropical lagoon.
 
As the hands on my watch seemed to move more and more quickly,  I
felt  the  excitement  building  inside  me  - not  an   entirely
unpleasant feeling,  somewhat like having a jar of butterflies in
one's  stomach.  The images of a soon to be tanned body filled my
head.  Not long now.  What would be first on my list of things to
do?  Perhaps  a stroll along the beach,  the water nipping at  my
heels.  Perhaps a trip into town to check out the locals. Maybe I
would  just check in at the hotel and lie down,  get  rested  and
then  fall  into that seemingly age-old routine  - cruising.  One
thing was for sure, the choice was mine, entirely mine.
 
"Coffee, sir?", came a pleasant masculine voice.
 
"Yes,  please.  Double cream,  thanks",  I replied,  matching his
definitely friendly tone.
 
"One coffee, double cream, coming right up!"
 
There  was  nothing  but chuckling to be heard  inside  my  head.
Straight guys can be so nice some times. Sigh!
 
"Sir...", he returned, "your coffee."
 
"Thank  you.  I  sure hope drinking this relaxes me  a  bit!",  I
jested,  half trying to start conversation and half knowing  that
it would do me no good.
 
"Can I bring you something else? Perhaps a sandwich?"
 
His  tone was undeniably friendly,  yet there was now evidence of
flight school training.  It's all commerce and that was painfully
obvious now.  I guess in the recesses of my mind,  I really  knew
that this guy was as straight as an arrow but there's always that
one  hope,  that  one thin strand of thread,  that one  straw  to
clutch on to. Every time I met someone new, there were always the
same thoughts filling my head.  Is he?  Is he?  No. Probably not.
But  maybe  if I put my arm around him and get really  chummy  he
will crack, allowing me a glance at those well guarded  feelings.
Then I shake my head and wrestle free of these puny thoughts.
 
"No  thanks.  The coffee will do me just fine",  I said in a  now
rather cooled voice. "How long before we land?"
 
"About 15 minutes.  The captain will be just now commencing final
approach. You should hear an announcement in a few moments."
 
"Thanks."
 
His duty to me finished,  he strolled further along the aisle.  I
heard  the same tone of voice as he asked a young woman if  she'd
like some coffee.  Amazingly enough, her eyes grew as she replied
with  affirmative gestures.  It was quite funny,  but I knew that
she probably had more of a chance at him then I did anyway.
 
Just  then,  dull  rumblings came from outside as the  plane  was
maneuvered into its landing stance.  A burst of static filled the
cabin, shortly thereafter, waning to support the captain's voice.
 
"Good  afternoon  ladies  and gentlemen.  This is  your  captain,
Elizabeth  J.  MacKenzie.  On behalf of Can-Air and our  crew,  I
would like to thank you for flying with us.  We are currently  on
our  final  approach  and  will reach the terminal  in  about  10
minutes.  Please refrain from smoking and remain seated until the
plane  comes to a full stop.  Have a  pleasant  holiday.  Bonjour
mesdames et mesieurs...."
 
As the Captain's message continued in French, I craned to see the
island taking shape below us.  It looked like a giant crab, claws
out-stretched  into  a sea of blue,  more shades than I had  ever
thought possible for water.  Just below, I could see the airport,
with  runways in several directions,  some of them  appearing  to
pave themselves right off the island and into the water.  I began
to compose myself and reached under the seat infront of me for my
carry  on.  It  was then that I felt a little bump and heard  the
planes engines whir into full reverse thrust,  tires screaming at
the pavement.
 
Not  long  after,  I had risen from my seat and was  joining  the
queue to leave the plane.  A rush of air came past me; a welcomed
refreshment it was,  moist and warm and as I examined it more,  I
could almost taste the salt in it. Definitely, it was not the air
one would inhale in the dry southwestern Ontario I had left.  The
queue  swayed  left and right as it snaked its way along  to  the
front  of  the  plane.   There,  two  of  the  stewardesses  were
delivering their final programmed farewells.
 
When I finally reached the exit,  and was properly greeted by the
crew,  I  descended the stairs,  my head towards the sun I  would
soon be worshipping.  Everything was so bright.  Sand everywhere,
like the whole place was just some big sand pit inviting everyone
to  play in it.  That's the feeling I got and from the smiles  on
everyone's  face,  it was obvious that they felt the  same.  Play
time was here at long last.
 
It  took a short time to clear customs.  Thank goodness they  had
not  decided  to personally inspect my  baggage.  I  hate  having
strangers  invade my personal effects,  and I could just  picture
them  holding up a pair of my under shorts and asking me where  I
got them or something equally embarrassing.
 
A  taxi rolled up.  The driver popped out and rushed my bags into
the trunk then hurried without a breathe to open the door for me.
This placed was starting to get a little unbelieveable.  I  mean,
where  in the hell can you go these days where a cabbie will open
the  door to his cab for you?  Especially if you are a  man.  Men
have  always been expected to open their own doors,  but  it  was
nice,  just  the  same.  I  was definitely going  to  enjoy  this
vacation.
 
The  driver was already back in place and pulling away  from  the
curb by the time I gotten seated,  comfortable and turned my head
forward away from the concrete of the airport.
 
"The Sands Hotel please,"  I paused, then thinking about it a bit
more, "and...take the scenic route if you would."
 
This  could be a chance to see the place,  en route to the  hotel
anyway.  I  wouldn't have to expend any energy and I was  already
getting  quite  tired.  Jet  lag never hits you until  you  start
getting on in years.
 
Palm tree after palm tree,  beach after beach, the road wound its
way  up from the shore and into the densely forested  hills.  The
wind  flowed through my hair making eddies that played tricks  on
my  spine.  Every now and then,  a chill ran down me from top  to
bottom, just ever so slight a quiver, and I peered up then at the
sun reassuring myself that it was still there.  Some sight-seeing
route,  not much to see but sand,  sky and dense,  virgin jungle-
like vegetation.
 
The  car  had  slowed and turned to  meet  the  approaching  curb
near a rather ornate entrance way. As I poised to reach the door,
the doorman was there,  opening it and inviting me out.  He was a
hulk  of a man,  at least six feet three inches in height with  a
mass  of  chest  that  could  choke even  the  most  aspiring  of
bodybuilders.  His hair was blonde, bleached by the constant sun,
and shoulder length,  yet neat and well groomed,  as was the rest
of him.  His face was gorgeously bronzed,  and as he smiled,  the
contrasting  white of his teeth added to an exquisite  and  quite
breath-taking view.
 
Maybe he would carry my bags to my room for me and come in for  a
little  drink or something.  But the place was too ritzy to  have
only  a  doorman,  and once inside,  bellhops rushed him  for  my
luggage.  The  smile fading from my face and my head filling with
impure  thoughts,  I watched as he turned and glided towards  his
post.  At least I'd had the foresight to glance at his name badge
- Perry.
 
The  decor  of the place was very elaborate yet welcoming to  say
the  least.  The ceiling of the lobby was domed supporting a huge
chandelier and many intricate brass fixtures.  The main desk  was
wooden,  and  on  a  closer examination,  I discovered it  to  be
cherry,  and  very,  very expensive.  The ends were  capped  with
leather,  matching  a very elegant porters chair off to one side.
Before I had a chance to ring the bell, there was already writing
going on and keys being pulled for me,  setting the scenes for  a
most definitely good stay.
 
The  thoughts of lying down on the beach under the sun were  more
than I could bear,  tired as I was.  Going back to the ocean side
would  also allow me another look at that bull of a doorman.  The
thought  occurred to me to ask him down to the beach or maybe  to
give me a tour of the island. I'm sure there are some very remote
spots I  would be  interested in  seeing,  especially  with  him!
But,  alas,  when I exited,  I saw no sign of him. Perhaps he had
just  finished  his shift,  or maybe he was helping  yet  another
guest to settle in.
 
The lure of the sun abated my quest and turned my thoughts to the
beckoning  sandy white beach in back of the hotel.  It was such a
gorgeous  scene  - even if it was quit void of men -  with  tall,
windswept  palms,  beautifully green tropical bushes and here and
there, a crest of grass along the dunes.
 
The water was warm and inviting, so off went the t-shirt and down
came the shorts. I was knee deep in the surf and enjoying the sun
immensely  before the feeling came that I was not alone.  Looking
about I saw no one,  but that feeling was there and  irrevocable.
Well...if  they want to gawk,  let 'em.  I'm here to have a great
time and that's what I am going to do.
 
The surf caught me off guard and a wave against my back swept  me
over,  face first into the sandy mud.  I would have afforded much
energy to righting myself, but at the time it seemed unimportant,
and I simply rolled to my back.  The water was shallow enough  to
allow  me to just lie there with  an occasional effort to hold my
breathe for the big waves.
 
When  I'd finally decided to look up and notice the  surroundings
having  fully gorged myself on the warmth of the sun and  hugging
advances  of  each wave,  I noticed a silhouetted figure  in  the
distance,  sitting and set out against the dunes. From my vantage
it  was not possible for me to discern just who it was,  but  the
figure was definitely male, and quite possibly good-looking.
 
Enough.  I raised myself from my watery bed,  muscled up onto the
beach and grabbed for my towel.  Sand filled my hand.  Where once
was a towel,  there was nothing but sand.  In fact, my shorts and
t-shirt were gone also. When I looked about to see where they had
possibly  gotten too,  I saw that same figure set out against the
dunes, beckoning me closer.

The wind ebbed and a wave came about my feet.  As I walked I left
water-filled footprints in the warm,  white sand.  The  man,  and
indeed  it  was a man,  became more and more shapely  with  every
step.  Step after step after step and then,  before I knew it,  I
was  running.  And  in the distance,  this man grew stronger  and
stronger with every detail I was willing to lend.
 
My shorts were there.  My t-shirt, in a pile off to one side, was
draped  with  sand  and my towel lay  partly  exposed  under  his
muscled,  bronze  physique.  I  tugged at it  gently,  hoping  to
retrieve  it and be on my way and also trying desperately to hope
for  something  more.  Why had he taken my clothes in  the  first
place? They surely could not have blown here for the wind was not
strong at all.
 
The  towel suddenly became unimportant to me and I dropped to  my
knees  at his side.  He lay in a very awkward  position,  perhaps
a  standing invitation to me to alleviate his predicament.  I was
now convinced that my clothes had been deliberately taken and  he
was my one and only suspect, caught red-handed with the evidence.
 
The  shade of the dune made an interesting bedroom and I wondered
at that moment just what I could expect.  I took the time to give
more substance to his form.
 
His  hair was golden blonde,  falling down to his shoulders.  And
oh, the shoulders, broad,  each with a distinct array of  muscle,
giving his back a definite butterfly shape.  With a hand I wanted
to follow the curves of his back but I dared not.  With  eyes,  I
went on, exploring the most intimate of places, right down to his
toes and then back up again for a second helping.
 
It  was  altogether too dim to see just who this guy  was,  after
all,  he was rather face down and quite vulnerable.  Sometime had
elapsed before I'd made any attempt at communicating,  but it was
something  that was imminent,  and in a somewhat broken  tone  at
first, I began.
 
"You  didn't  happen to notice how my clothes got here  did  you?
And,  by the way,  I believe that you are lying on my towel", the
raucous  words  being drowned and smoothed some by  the  pounding
surf.
 
"Funny. I think I took them. They were just lying on the beach. I
didn't see anyone around.  They're yours? Then you must want them
back, of course", came his reply, but with such coolness that the
words were anything but an elegant attempt at a line.
 
"Well...maybe you didn't see me...but what the hell do you  think
you're  doing now,  lying here in the middle of my clothes?" With
this  I had made a definite attempt to make him fumble  and  quit
the little game.
 
"I  thought anyone could plainly see that I was masturbating," he
grumbled,  gruffly,  "but  then,  I can see that you aren't  just
anyone." With that, he turned slightly, raising his head from his
arm rest, putting me in full view.
 
It  was Perry.  The thought of it made my heart pound and  I  was
sure that even he would hear over the surf. I felt a ball forming
in my throat and my mood became silly,  like a school boy finding
girls  for the first time.  Only this was a man....no,  more than
that, it was Perry.
 
Well,  it was painfully obvious that he was of course  gay.  This
whole  resort was gay in fact,  and I couldn't see them making  a
name for themselves in the resort business with an  all  straight
staff.  Thank goodness they had at least that much foresight! And
then thank them again for hiring Perry.
 
He  turned  even  further,   revealing  his  wonderfully  rippled
stomach, which was in itself an eye full, not to mention what lay
beneath.  His  bikini hung low in the front and from  its  border
protruded a rather nice sight. I'd caught him right in the middle
of something,  something I wouldn't mind joining in on.  Before I
could take another breathe, my stance changed from annoyed to one
conveying  a little more passivity.  A hand found its mark at  my
shoulder and I pivoted forward to land on top of him.
 
He  rolled  and I found myself peering up,  over the line of  his
well  developed  chest.  I'd  found his eyes  after  a  momentary
distraction. Blue, of course, with a depth matching the waters of
the pounding surf, and as equally breathe-taking. I placed a hand
at his back,  and began that journey, upon which, moments before,
only eyes were permitted.  Now I grabbed at every inch of  flesh,
letting  gravity pull my hand down until it rested firmly on  his
cheeks.
 
With  an  almost convulsive action,  I grabbed  a  handful,  with
immediate  results from Perry.  His head cocked back,  like a gun
being  readied for the firing,  and with as much force,  it  came
down,  finding my shoulder, his tongue finding an ear. I groaned.
The  thoughts of him I'd had earlier in the day now became a game
plan and I wasn't about to let him miss bringing a single one  to
life.
 
The towel, slightly moistened by the sweat of his bulk, filled my
face  and I made every attempt to eat it.  I was so enveloped  in
the  passion of the moment and my little mental pictures  that  I
could  do little more than just lie there at his mercy.  This did
not  hinder him in the least.  Immediately,  he began  my  mental
task,  taking ever effort to sew my imagined fabric with the most
intricate of threads.
 
The  undulating of his body atop me was not unlike the warmth  of
the  pounding  surf I had just left.  Sweet kisses on my  earlobe
made me scream with pleasure and I grabbed at his ass even  more,
forcing him down on me with much co-operation.  I knew in moments
that I would be far beyond any attempts at rhythm. He'd be making
the man out of me I'd hoped to become.
 
Without so much as a peep,  I came,  each spasm making me grab at
him more. With my stomach, I could feel the strength of his whole
body as it gently continued, heaving and arching. I felt one last
puff of breath  in my ear and a tongue retreating, expecting some
sudden fury.  Moments later,  I felt new warmth at my stomach.  I
could  not contain my joy and moaned approvingly at Perry,  whose
excitement had certainly peaked as well.  I pulled him close, not
wanting to miss anything he was offering me then.  I had him. All
of him.
 
To  say that it was not an exhausting experience would have  been
foolish. It was something that was obvious to even the most inane
of observers,  if there had been any.  We just lay there,  on the
sand,  reassuring each other that everything was as fantastic  as
we  had  each thought.  I must be dreaming,  then an arm  out  of
nowhere grabs me,  I turn to see Perry,  and the clouds disappear
instantly. No, I'm not dreaming!
 
Oh!  And to think that this was only my first day.  What a sin to
even think that.  I was sure hoping it would not be my last  day,
but in a sense, I didn't really care.