19-year-old Ali Fisher has gone on vacation to Greece in search of fun and adventure. She falls into company with Amy, two years her junior, but has much more interest in Amy's married father David. Mutual attraction simmers between Ali and David before finally boiling over in an intense swimming-pool encounter. They have crazed sex in the elevator on the way to Ali's room, but are almost caught when David's wife and daughter return early from an excursion...

Briefly Ali heard Melanie's reply: “She's sick, David, something she ate”, before the elevator doors shut him from her. She descended, slumped against the wall where she had just been fucked, heart pumping with frightened shock. She was still dazed from sex and now from the scare of almost being caught. Would Melanie know instinctively what had been going on? Would she sense it, smell it from her husband? Ali made her way unsteadily to reception, returned her card and slipped back into the pool. Best she keep away from the floor they all shared - for now. She was disappointed to be robbed of her post-coital chill-out with David, but more worried for him in his current circumstance. Escape to the beach had seemed the most sensible option, but she could not bring herself to flee that far.

Keeley and Gracie hijacked her and she played catch with them half-heartedly in the pool. She munched her way through a lunchtime sandwich at the bar in the same distracted fashion. It was mid-afternoon before David caught up with her and put her mind to rest. “You okay, Ali?”

“I'm fine.” Her face flushed in his presence. “What about you? Is everything okay with Melanie?”
"Fine. She didn't pick up on anything, I'm sure of it, she was so distracted by Amy. Poor girl's got some sort of food-poisoning; she made sandwiches from some of the stuff we bought at the market yesterday and was feeling ill by the time they arrived at the Museum. They took a taxi back, she's in a rotten state. I managed to get cleaned up, but it was bloody scary.” Ali felt a rush of relief, not least because further interludes with David still seemed possible. The prospect was in his mind as well, it turned out, whatever his other distractions. “Look Ali, I want... Well you know what I want. But right now I need to be with Amy…”

“Of course you do, the poor thing. Look, go be with her. I'll be fine. Give her my love.”

David leaned in to her a shade at the bar. “Ali, I haven't felt like that in... I want it again…”

“Me too.” Instantly her breath was shallow, the sense memory of his penetration strong within her.

“We'll find time.” He scribbled out digits on a napkin. “My mobile number. Text if you can't find me. Keep phones on silent, okay?”

“Okay.”

Covert ops, a secret shared between them - how wildly sexy. But the next two days dealt Ali little more than frustration. Amy remained ill, her parents tending to her, and David could not bring himself, it seemed, to look for an escape. Ali scarcely saw him, but when she did catch his eye, how could she help herself from turning on her bad-girl pout, signalling with every flick of her hair and sway of her hips exactly what she wanted? She felt bad for Amy and conscience-stricken any time Melanie spoke to her, but all that was over-ridden by her body's hunger for her mature new lover.

She went out that evening and lost herself for a while amongst the swaying, perspiring masses at Club Kool, but could not raise the slightest enthusiasm for any advances made her. The next morning she hit the beach early, but ran alone. Amy, she later learned, had been horribly sick overnight, to the point that her parents had considered the local hospital. “She's better,” Melanie explained over breakfast, “just wrung out and dehydrated. She misses you.”

Ali sidled to David when Melanie had taken her tray onto the veranda above the pool. “I miss you,” she told him, letting the back of her hand brush the hairs on his arm. “Inside me.” She bit her lip calculatingly and he breathed out his desire, his sheer ache at her tease. Which made her want to torment him even more.

Amy was recuperating gradually and she joined them all on the beach that afternoon. “Sorry to be such a killjoy, monopolizing everyone,” she smiled weakly to Ali, as they lay umbrellaed on the sand, and the young seductress felt a guilty stab. Then guilt combined itself with jealousy as she watched David and Melanie swimming together. Following the bathe, Amy's mum roped them all into dinner at the hotel that evening, before, she insisted, an early night. Ali despaired of ever being alone with David again.

But he drew close to her as they all traipsed back from the beach, and spoke without even looking; his words were as potent with need as in the pool that previous day. “I have to have you. This evening, somehow. I'll make an excuse to get away over dinner. Leave it a while and do the same. Say you're ill, tired. Whatever. Okay? And I'm sending you a text. Read it once you've left the table. Text me back when you've done what it says.” Ali's pulse was instantly set racing. David was thinking, planning, preparing sexiness for them both amongst all their obstacles. She had no idea how to do this and make it look convincing, but she damn well knew she would do it anyway.

They all convened in the restaurant within half an hour, she in tee-shirt and shorts, David wearing canvas slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned to mid-way. She had showered and moisturised, her rinsed hair tied back into a loose ponytail. Her premature departure she set up early on, complaining of too much sun and the beginnings of a headache. Loss of appetite was easy to fake with the excitement churning her stomach. David showed total calm, though maybe he overdid the bonhomie, the light-hearted chat with waiting staff just a little. All seemed relaxed between him and Melanie. Amy had recovered her appetite and was cautiously going to work on her soup and rolls. Ali stayed mostly quiet; happily it added to the sense of her feeling poorly.

The Goslings had just ordered main courses when David's phone rang aloud. He checked it and adopted a concerned frown. “It's Ian from the restaurant. I told him only to call me if there were any problems. Let me take this. Hello, Ian?” He carried the conversation away from the table, appeared back a moment later covering the mouthpiece and looking genuinely harried. It was quite an impressive performance, thought Ali, her heart thudding. “Sorry folks, this is important. I could be a while. Can you tell them to hold my main course? Ian - tell me the whole thing.” Melanie looked just slightly put out when he vanished altogether from the place.

Ali bided her time. This was it, the crucial moment. She looked sorrowfully at the salad she had half-eaten, while Melanie and Amy made plans for cultural excursions to make up for the aborted Museum visit. It was her young friend who picked up on Ali's unaccustomed silence and provided her an easy way out. “You look really out of sorts, Ali. I hope you don't have the same as I did.”

“No, it's just too much sun-worship,” Ali apologised. “I'm not fit for anything, sorry. I think I just need to go take some tablets and go to bed.”

“You want me to come up with you?” Amy, along with her mother, was all concern.

“No, no - I'll be fine. You enjoy your meal, you deserve it. Tell David I'm sorry…”

She left the table, mind awhirl with guilt at her fraudulence and with elation as such a clean getaway. Such a convincing piece of subterfuge. She and David had bought time - not a lot, but enough. She flipped open her phone at reception and found David's text. A rush, even before she opened it. And when she did: Go to your room now and strip. Leave the door open. I want you bent over, naked and waiting.

Ali's heart drummed near in her throat as she marched to the elevator and completed the upward journey. Her mind was consumed with how David had taken her the first time, how well he had read her and how little he had held back. Burning frustration - she had heard it in his voice on their beach-return and had no doubt how this encounter would play out. She went straight to her room, wondering how far he was behind, if he had been watching her take the elevator or was waiting upstairs.

Swiftly she tore everything off, got herself nude for her waiting debaucher. Nude, that was, aside from the red strappy heels into which she slipped on a sexy impulse. She thought of draping herself over the bedroom dressing table, but opted instead for the bathroom shelf, with its broad mirror and expansive enamel surface. The sink-light threw her gracefully-curved and tanned upper body into flattering relief and her heels pushed her up nicely, so she could stretch herself easily over the shelf, accentuating the thrust of her ass. Then she took her phone and smiled to herself gleefully in the mirror as she returned his text: Ready.

The tension was exquisite. She could not help but reach down and finger her soaking-wet slit as she listened out for every tiny sound that might indicate his approach. She pressed her tits to the cold surface and wriggled her rear into an ever tighter bend, imagining his reaction when he saw her arched back and tautened buttocks, the lips of her swollen pussy peeking naughtily through. What a wonderful erotic imagination this man had, and she was now the lucky recipient of all its wickedness.

She did not have long to wait, less than a minute before bedroom door brushed carpet and someone was inside, searching. Was his heart pounding right now at the same rate as hers? Ali placed her masturbatory hand on the flat surface along with the other and looked for him, panicking just a moment that Amy or some errant member of hotel staff would appear instead to witness her lewdly thrusting ass. They did not. David walked into view, drawn by the trail of her discarded clothes and the bathroom light. His shirt was open to the waist and the front of his canvas trousers bulged.

Slowly he walked to her, fixating very obviously on her stretched thighs and proffered bottom, his face suffused with dark delight. He reached out, claiming her ass with both hands like it were a precious gift, letting one palm glide to her tail-bone and up over the concave of her back while the other slid downwards and inwards, his middle finger thrusting suddenly and deep into her sopping cunt. She cried out in fraught bliss as he held her to the shelf and clamped hard on her ass so his plunging finger could work her briskly.

“I can't believe I get to do this to you, Ali,” he said, his voice low and constricted. “I must be the luckiest fucker alive.” She groaned, as much at the desire in this amiable man’s voice as the sheer physical sensation of his working digit. “We don't have much time, darling,” he told her apologetically. “So I'm just going to fuck you fast and hard, is that okay?”

“Oh God yes,” she moaned, her body screaming with anticipation, squirming to his calling her ‘darling’. “That's so okay, so fucking okay…”

What happened next was swift and shocking. David pressed down on the small of her back with the hand that had probed her and with the other ripped open the fastenings of his trousers. She felt the bulbous head of his prick battering eagerly against her cheeks, then he fitted it easily past her slippery vestibule entrance, gripped her waist with both hands and drove himself all the way inside her. Ali screamed to her own reflection as her cunt swallowed all of David's thick hard cock-length.

There was a savage grating in her lover's throat as he sank himself deep in her tight yielding channel, a intense gritting of his teeth at the long-awaited reuniting of their sexes. He withdrew and plunged, withdrew and plunged, gripping her flesh harder, asserting himself inside her. Yes there was urgency like the previous morning, but this time she sensed an additional pride in his cock's mastery, a desire to prove just what he could make her feel with it. She loved this, loved David's sudden flash of arrogance as he impaled her more slowly and deliberately than promised, the swelling of his ego as he relished this inexperienced young cunt. It was something she was only too keen to encourage.

“Oh God, David, that's it, that's it…” He ploughed her with slow ramming thrusts, joy gathering on his face. “Fuck me hard, fuck me any way you want, do it, don't hold back…”

“You sure about that?” There was playful evil in his voice as he glided his long smooth strokes into her. She couldn't get enough of this David, so different from the easy-going companion, the committed family man.

“I'm sure... You don’t know how sure…”

He mightn't have known, but he took a good guess, seizing her shoulder and throwing a wild hard fuck into her, loins smacking her bum like a vigorous, steady hand-clap. She cried out in delirious frightened joy as his pistoning cock gave her cunt the work-out she had dreamed of. His other hand was at work too, cracking against her quivering flank, his whole body and face a perfect mirrored image of unrestrained lust. This is how a man takes a woman, he seemed to be saying. This is how grown-ups fuck. He wasn't dwelling on himself either, his whole demeanour suggested utter focus on her. How she looked, how she felt - against him and around him. He let go her shoulder, grabbed her pony-tail instead, right at the roots, and hauled her up, making her emit a startled yelp.

“Got to see those beautiful tits,” he almost snarled, and he left off spanking her ass so he could maul and squeeze her exposed, shuddering breasts. Her fully-reflected beauty seemed to boost his desire and he steamed into her, dragging on her hair, the sound of flesh on flesh speeding up to a frantic rhythm. Ali pawed the smooth shelf helplessly, as her body absorbed this glorious, frenzied fuck. There was nothing ill-intended here, nothing deliberately mean, just the hard uninhibited enjoyment of her body that she had licensed. And when she thought it could get no better, he backed her out from the shelf, returned his grip to her shoulder for maximum leverage, and reasserted his fierce shafting, his other hand diving to rub briskly on her clitoris.

Ali's hand shot out and grabbed the sink edge just in time, otherwise she was sure David's ambitious efforts would have toppled them both backwards. Secured, she gave herself up to the orgasm that was rushing on her, even as her older beau thrust his way to his own explosive finish. They ended on a cacophony of competing yells, Ali shuddering crazily, juicing all over David's fingers and cock even as his hot essence gushed inside her.

She leaned into the shelf as all their joint tension drained away, felt his lips soft on her neck. “Oh God, Ali,” he was saying, “you drive me crazy. I don't know what's happening to me.” He put some effort into sliding free of her without spillage all over his crumpled trousers. “I can't get these stained, should've thought…”

“Here, let me.” She was shaky, but managed to help him off with his lower garments before disaster happened. It was an undignified end to their heated coupling, but somehow that didn't matter.

“Got to clean up, finish dinner, lie my fucking ass off. I'll have to invent problems at the restaurant. Shouldn't be tough… If Ian can phone me on cue, he can back me up later as well.” He drew her naked body to him and his kiss to her mouth was long and soft. She clung to him needily in response. “God this is so wrong, but I can't help it,” he whispered to her. “I shouldn't be doing this to you.”

“I want you to do it to me,” she breathed. “Lots.”

“Not that, the whole thing. Amy, she's your friend. Mel... Oh God, Mel... I've got to get back…”

Ali helped him scrub up, hoped he could cover his - well - his fuckedness with confidence and bluster. “When can we do this again?” She knew it was selfish, reckless and horrible, but she could help herself, it seemed, no more than he.

“Early morning run?” he suggested, just before leaving.

David's rigorous physical attentions, the intensity of his emotion, filled Ali's mind all night, sleeping and waking. She did not believe there would be any morning run, was sure in fact that some wifely intuition on Melanie's part would expose their risky liaison. He was waiting for her outside the hotel at 7.30am however, calm and reassuring.

“I had to manufacture a serious staffing crisis at the Bayou,” he explained to her as they set off. “It's lucky I have an understanding friend as head chef. It's all okay, but if you can, slip in separately from me when we get back and pass yourself off as just having got up for breakfast.” He winked at her, and all her reservations at the risks being taken were swept away on a wave of naughty affection. She was out running with her handsome illicit lover, their banter now fired by shared explicit memories.

“Did you have sweet dreams of yesterday's fitness training?”

“Yes, but I woke up feeling awfully stiff.”

“Did you now? Poor boy. I'm a very good physio. I'm sure I could work all that stiffness away.”

“Sounds wonderful. I know just where you can practise your technique. Somewhere with a little privacy…”

“Really? God, please show me.”

There was a stand of myrtle trees half a mile beyond their stopping point of three days prior and she ran the extra distance with him gladly, both knowing to what end. They caught their breath in the midst of the semi-shielding trunks, then he kissed her hard, wrenched her shorts down and fucked her hard against one of the trunks, as she clenched his back. After, they stood silent for a moment, nuzzling each other's neck.

Scarce a soul was around, certainly no one who knew them or cared, so caution-be-damned they stripped completely and went swimming, splashing and laughing, the early morning sun refracting on the waves all around them. They pulled their running clothes onto their wet bodies and jogged back, the sweat of exertion enhanced by the glow of their shared secret. Ali ducked round the back of the hotel and sneaked to her room - pretended successfully she had lain in bed late, recovering from her heatstroke. She was to have no more alone-time with David that day.

A precedent had been set and for three further days they would run two and a half miles of beach and back, just so they could couple amongst the trees. Holidays were their own reality, right? Self-contained bubbles, floating separate from the rest of one's existence. If that were true, then the pre-breakfast runs became their bubble-within-a-bubble. It was their time - everything after became too risky. Ali palled about with Amy, David playing minder to them both. Melanie joined in now when they swam or went exploring, but left them to it when they tried skuba or surfing. The girls' friendship acted as cover. All sparring and significant glances between Ali and David were saved for that precious sinful hour just after dawn.

The heat continued to burn in their encounters, but there was an added playfulness now that they had got their heads around the fact they were actually fucking. Ali revelled in their outdoor nudity - became progressively shameless about it. She took to teasing David's erect cock with the pressing attentions of her ass-cleft, one arm hooked back around his neck, head resting on his chest. “I want to be such a bad girl for you,” she would say, pushing her rump backward into him to make him groan. Or she would writhe her serpentine body down him, raking her nails over his nipples, trailing her own rigid peaks down his stomach as she sank to her knees. Then she would gobble him up and spoil him with her mouth. She'd peer up at him from under her fringe and work at being the good little cock-sucker she felt he deserved, try and slurp away the vestiges of guiltiness which clung to him during their time together.

David would reciprocate on his own knees, let her hook her legs around his shoulders and press her against a tree trunk as he tongued her to orgasm. She loved reaping the benefit of his mouth's experience - the care and relish with which he stimulated all her throbbing parts, the vigour with which his tongue thrashed her clit. The fact that she got to cry her ecstasy to the open-air only enhanced her blissful climax.

He took her in every position the trees and sandy earth allowed, those mornings, and each conjoining of their bodies was wild in its excitement. Those times were as brief as they were intense, frustratingly so. Ali wanted to luxuriate in nakedness with David, wanted them to lie together and hold each other and laugh, till they glided into a second more languid fuck. Such luxury eluded them, until four days after the bathroom encounter.

“Amy wants to go see the Makronissos Tombs down by the village this evening,” Melanie announced as they all had lunch together. “Apparently it's really spectacular at sunset. You want to join us, Ali?”

“Well I would…” Ali studiously kept her eyes off David. “I've arranged to go out clubbing.” Amy looked at her in sudden beaming interest over her kalamari.

“Darling, you're coming along?”

“If I feel up to it,” David replied, non-committal. “I might be a bit worn out with sports. I mean it sounds fun and I'd hate to miss out…” He glanced hopefully at his wife.

“I know. You and your love of Ancient Greek history, it's why you came here.” Melanie shook her head in mock-despondence, then ruffled his hair forgivingly. “Forget the bones. You just relax your poor weary self if you must.” Ali smiled, but not at Melanie's irony.

Amy leaned over to her confidentially. “You've met someone, haven't you?” Ali tried to look uncomprehending, but Amy was grinning widely. “I've known there was something these past few days. You've been different from before. I just know there's something you're not telling me!”

“It's... There's... no one in particular.” Ali felt almost rumbled. She wondered what she should make up.

“I so don't believe you. You're meeting him tonight, aren't you? Is it that Greek guy - Thanos - who was chatting you up in Kool? No, it’s the DJ, isn’t it?”

“It's no one, really, I'm just... having fun.”

“Then you don't mind if I catch up with you when mum and I get back from the Tombs? I won't be playing gooseberry?” Amy’s eyes were still glinting mischievously.

“Of course not.” Ali gave her young friend a reassuring smile, but her thoughts were very far from teaming up with Amy. Her mind and body were thrilling to the prospect of - well - not exactly an evening with David, but the nearest best thing.

Her time on the beach and amongst the waves were a positive joy with what was in prospect. As she waded from the surf, her inner glow radiated to rival the Mediterranean sun.

“Your room, six-thirty?” David asked casually as he towelled down next to her. It was the time Amy and her mum needed to be on the coach which would whisk them away on their trip.

“I'll be there.” She was sure her face did not betray a flicker. Inwardly she was the Cheshire Cat on amphetamine.

By six-thirty Ali was showered, primped and barefoot in a black lacy half-cup brassiere and matching French-cut panties. There was familiar trepidation as she awaited the soft footfall outside, the pushing wide of her cracked door.

This time she waited for David behind the bedroom door, allowed him to stroll tentatively inside, then pounced on him, wrapping him up in her limbs, hair flailing around his face and lingerie-clad curves crushed to his shirted front. His jeans were already bulging for her as they spun laughing through the room, landing in a happy tangle on her sofa. They kissed and he made her jump with the touch against her lower spine of the chilled screw-top white wine he had brought.

“I think this evening should be a proper celebration, don't you, Ali?” He lay back as though basking in her naughty presence while she fetched plastic cups. She sat in his waiting lap, nestling her bum into his denim-straining erection as he poured. “To us,” he grinned, and they both sipped, eyeing each other jubilantly. Tonight there was no rush. They could entwine, talking flirtatious nonsense about life and work and school, seducing each other slowly and deliciously. The entire bottle of wine was downed as they bathed in each other's hot company, supremely relaxed and assured of crazy sex to come.

David set aside his empty cup and traced the lacy upper ridge of Ali's bra. “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked in soft-voiced wonder.

Ali teased a tuft of his chest hair through his now unbuttoned shirt. “London Borough of Islington,” she smirked. “You could come and visit me there.”

David's smile did not falter, but his voice did a little. “You know I'd love to…”

“But… not a good idea, right?”

“It's... Well... Things might not be perfect all the time between me and Melanie, but I still…”

“You still love her, I know. That's good. I'm glad.” Ali felt it was her moment to be grown up, to hide how crestfallen she felt.

David seemed to pick up on it and drew his fingertips across her collar bone to her neck. “You drive me insane, Ali, you know that? You don't know what you make me feel.” His words quiet and intense. “You've done something to me nothing else has - not all my training, not the restaurant, not... not anything. I feel re-energised. Revitalised. It's... I can just feel the energy pumping through me when I'm with you. It’s amazing.”

“Show me.” She felt like her body was starting to combust all over again at his words. “Show me all that energy, David. Show me what I do to you…”

He took her face in both hands and kissed her, strumming her lips gently with his tongue. “Take off those lacy little bits and pieces,” he instructed softly. “I want to make you feel good first.”

“You always make me feel good,” she said beathily, springing her bra. She shrugged it off and wriggled her ass out of her panties as well, still sitting there in his lap. “There, all nice and bare, just how you like me. What now?” His hands strayed about her naked flesh and she shivered in anticipation.

“Go fetch some lotion, something I can apply. This pretty body needs some proper attention. Then go lie face-down on the bed.”

She fairly skipped to the bathroom and back, brandishing a bottle of baby oil on her return. “This do? Going to rub me down, daddy?”

“Christ, don't call me that,” he warned, and she regretted it instantly. His hand, sharp on her bottom, however, swatted her faux pas clean from her mind. “Now get your grown-up college-girl ass to that bed.” She squealed in delight as he chased her there.

“Please take your clothes off too,” she begged excitedly, as she prostrated herself atop her single bed. “I want my masseur to be naked.”

“Whatever the client wants,” he grinned, and he stripped rapidly. She stared enchanted at his erect cock, bobbing inches from her face, as he brushed her hair free and dripped oil between her shoulder blades. She wanted to reach out and touch, to lean across and capture him in her mouth, but she resisted the urge and gave herself up to his attentions as he smoothed the warm fluid about her back. “This is our night to indulge ourselves,” he told her, climbing onto the bed and straddling her hips.

She felt his hands knead her shoulders - they were supple and strong and they eased out all the tension of her windsurf afternoon. She moaned release into her pillow as he took gentle charge of her body. His expert fingers might have lulled her to sleep, she thought, had it not been for the wild sensation which his touch brought about in her loins. The knowledge that David was forked nude above her with that beautiful big dick thrusting out in front of him enhanced the feeling. He shifted position, kneeling between her legs so he could access her back with his firm hands.

“How'd you get so good at this?” she groaned in a mild ecstasy, as his fingers worked their way down her vertebrae to her lower back.

“Skill I picked up in college,” he explained, as he completed the unknotting of her spine just above her ass-crack. He poured more oil and swept upwards with both hands, moving out from the central ridge to encompass her entire back in gliding circular motions. “Even took a few classes.”

“Bet you put it to good use,” she mumbled hazily. “Fucked a bunch of girls with this as your warm-up.”

“A few,” he admitted lightly, “before I started dating Melanie…” He adjusted again, so he could start from the jutting peak of her gluteus muscles, swoop the heels of his palms all the way down the valley of her lower back, then spread out over the smooth upland plain to her shoulder blades.

“God that's good, so fucking sexy,” she breathed. She could feel his balls and hard shaft brushing between her cheeks now, as he slid low into the move. Then a sharp intake of her breath as his hands slid under and cupped her breasts tightly, his loins still pressed to the firm padding of her rump. “God, David, is that proper massage technique?”

“No…” There was wicked amusement in his voice. “It's just me gratuitously groping your tits. Sorry, I'll behave.”

“Shit, please, not on my account…”

But he had already let her go and dropped off the end of the bed. “I'll work from the bottom up. Your feet, that is.” His foot massage was exquisite. It made her want to writhe like a playful kitten as he worked the pressure points of her left sole, before following a firm deliberate course up her leg, kneading the calf and thigh muscles deep. He stopped short of her buttock and repeated the whole move for her right leg, till his fingers massaged into the crease beneath her cheek.

“Come on, just grab my ass,” she pleaded. “We both know that's all you want to do.” She felt oil drizzle over both her orbs and then he seized them, firm hands moulding and enjoying her bum's fullness. He squeezed her cheeks with delectation, manipulating in slow circles and drawing her naughtily apart, no doubt to expose the delights tucked away between. Her whole body wriggled under his touch, neck stretching against the pillow in response, nipples poking into the fabric of the bed cover, as his thumbs delved. He was poking into her wetness now, then for increased access climbing off the bed, so he could draw aside and raise one thigh, parting her legs wide.

Ali felt utterly exposed to her sensual masseur, every slick fold of her cunt stretched out before him. He was palming his slippery way up her inner thigh, then changing tack, skating from above, diving down the chasm of her ass cheeks over her tiny rear hole and plunging a long finger into her pussy. “That's it,” he was saying, in a voice radiating firmness of purpose. “That's what you want, right?” And he was so on the money. He wiggled the digit inside her, testing her tightness before sinking further, hand clamped to her cheeks as his finger busied itself in a jabbing motion. Her voice sounded forth her body's ache as he plucked himself out, rubbed briskly back and forth over her slimed lips and clitoris, before thrusting the finger easily back inside with an accompanying second.

“Ohhhh God…” Fuck, she needed to access her clit, but her lover had that sorted as well, thumb reaching for her swollen nub and giving it all the friction it needed. “Baby, baby…” she sobbed, pumped and ripe and ready.

David had all bases covered and he knew it. “Going to come for me, darling? Let me see you, Ali, I want to watch you get off…”

“Oh God yeah, all over you, all over your... your… Oh oh ohhhhhhh…” She spasmed long and hard against the covers, her cunt pouring out its liquid love all over his naughty molesting hand. Sweetness - God, a sweetness like she had never known.

The quaking had hardly subsided when he rolled her over, feeding his soaked fingers into her mouth. She licked herself up greedily, making show of what an eager slut she could be for him. Look at me. How good I am. You don't want to give this up... not just yet, do you? He raised her up from the bed and drew her face to his, praising her for how damned hot she was in between effusive kisses. She gripped his head with one hand and ran the other freely over his proud cock and heavy balls. “Let me make you feel good now. Let me sit on this…”

How selfish of her, how wicked, to wheedle and seduce her way onto his big, thick member so quickly. David wasn't calling her on her plan, however, although he made one slight adjustment. “Not that way,” he said, as she moved to wrap herself around him. He guided her about instead, so that she tottered unsteadily, her back to him as he sat there on the bed's end. “Now bring that pussy down.”

His hands were on her hips, already guiding her into place. Her lips were slick around him and she slid down easily onto that big pole, her bottom moulding itself into the waiting seat of his loins as he filled her. What a gorgeous experience - to be slotted firmly down on David Gosling, leaning back into his chest, his hands on her hips and his breath flowing all over her neck. She wanted to view it from outside, wished there were a reflective surface nearer, because they must look so damn beautiful together.

David was commencing to thrust and she wanted it badly, but he deserved that she work for him a little. “No baby, stay still. Let me.” She braced her thighs against his, pressed her feet on the floor and began to move on him, shunting herself up and down, so he would feel her slippery walls all over his hard surface. “You like that?” His breathy croak was all the reply she needed. She speeded up, established a steady rhythm, tightening her cunt muscles to massage her lover's cock like he needed her to. The fact that she was taking him so deep on each descent, what a fabulous bonus. No good deed unrewarded.

He gripped her harder as though to speed up her motion, but she chastened him. “Bad boy, you do what I say now.” God, she heard herself calling shots. How audacious, what a little sex-bomb she was becoming! “Lie back and enjoy, David,” she insisted. “Let me do this…” He let go and allowed his body to drop away from her. She leaned forward, so that her cunt prised his cock from his stomach. Pressing firmly on his thighs, she slid smoothly up and down him, loving that stretching thickness, as her slick interior glided all over it. She imagined what this would look like to his eager eyes - his own handsome length swallowed up, then reappearing hard and glistening from her wet hole. Her tightly-sprung little bumhole on lewd display, between her stretched cheeks.

“You like that, baby? You getting a good view?”

“Ohhh fuck yes, it's amazing…” Raw lust in his voice, a man turned-on beyond reason. How she loved that she could do this to him. She began teasing with her pussy - wriggling herself when sunk down to the base and slithering all over his glans when almost drawn off. His groans were increasing in their desperation and when she peered around, his hands were clapped to his face in seething frustration. Ali felt like she were riding a volcano and she so wanted to be there when it went off.

“You liking that, baby? That making you feel good?”

“God, you have no idea…”

“What do you want to do to me?”

“You know exactly what…”

“You want to fuck this? You want to fuck this bad little bitch?”

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... Ali could almost hear the cartoon growl just before he reared up, grabbed her hips and skewered her deep. She howled and shook, hair dancing around him as he pulled her tight and thrust. A few strokes proved the position insufficient for desire this fierce, so her pushed her off, slid from under her and flung her back onto the bed. Ali squealed as she landed on her back, David hoisting and spreading her legs. He refitted himself swiftly, urgently to her cunt, then gripping her by the upper thighs, slammed himself all the way back inside, her legs splayed either side.

Now he had the leverage he needed. Now her ass was braced firmly against him so he could drive his pelvis fast and hard, spearing her like she knew he craved. God, she wished he could fuck her like this forever, and to his credit he provided a good long hammering. Her head lolled on the pillow for much of it, moans escaping randomly from her throat, hands kneading her breasts; she managed to look up once and had a brief image of him standing tall, loins powering into her like he were possessed, chest-hair matting with sweat and face set like a warring neanderthal. Then she could focus no more - could only fall back onto the linen surface, at the mercy of this great ravishing dick and the demented husband and father on the other end of it. She reached between her legs to her pulsing clit and needed to strum on it so very little before she burst into second orgasm. David reamed her out all the way through it - she gushed crazily all over a cock that felt like it were trying to split her.

“God, I'm going to come so hard…” David’s voice was fevered, as though his own performance amazed him. As though he could not believe what Ali had drawn out of him. “I’m going to come so fucking hard…”

“In my mouth…” She felt barely conscious in her own throes, but it came back to her, something it had occurred to her to do for him, something she wanted to do. “You want to come in my mouth?”

“Christ, yes…” He pulled out and wrenched her flailing body all the way up by the hair till she kneeled, then wanked his bulged, purpling cock the rest of the way, right in front of her face. “Suck on it, quick,” he told her, and her lips opened to capture his imminent surge.

From the other end of the room there was the sound as of someone's tread, and it occurred to Ali as her mouth reached, that she had not checked, not absolutely, that her door was locked. Her eyes glanced past David's rampant organ… and lit on Amy. The sixteen-year-old was wandering into the room as though drawn inexorably by what she had heard from the doorway, by sounds she could not accept were real. Ali drew back in sharp terror from the twitching head of the girl’s father’s cock. She had a split-second to take in her friend’s look of dawning horror, before she was blinded by the splatter of projectile cum against her face.

Thought was all but erased as David’s furious hot load hosed into her, his voice crying out raw and guttural as his orgasm burst, spurt on spurt, all over her helpless visage. It seemed a vast inundation, exploding in her eyes and against her nose, firing salty into her open mouth. But some fragment of her mind clung to the dreadful truth that Amy was witnessing this obscene act and all its messy consequences.

The sticky offering subsided and frantically she wiped the glutinous mess from her eyes, blinking through the stinging sensation. David was staring in disbelief over his shoulder, the last of his spunk still oozing from his cock. Amy just stood, horribly transfixed by the vision of her naked father, his semen splashed copiously all over the face, dribbling from the mouth of her new best friend. Then with no more than an appalled whimper, she turned and fled the room.

“Amy…” David remained frozen in a half-turn for a moment, before staring down at himself as though this were a waking nightmare. Ali felt it too - like a hideous dream of public exposure. “Oh my God,” he was muttering. “Oh fuck, what have I done?” His voice rose to a pitch of anguish. For a moment his eyes rested on his own sticky clinging delivery all over Ali's face and tits. “This is so fucked up…”

He grabbed pieces of clothing, began to struggle desperately into them. “Got to find her…” Ali was snapped out of her stupor by his actions and she ran to the bathroom, heart pounding with the horrific implications of what had just occurred. She scrubbed herself free of sperm at the basin, as though that would do some good. By the time she had finished, David was rushing out. He paused briefly to look at her, as she stood naked and dripping, and went to say something - but words failed.

“Just go catch her up,” Ali said simply, and watched him rush out to track down his daughter. To find her before she got to Melanie. Though what, wondered Ali, could he possibly say?

She dressed rapidly in jeans, tee-shirt and trainers, practical unsexy clothes. Then she cleaned up the room frantically, tidied away the evidence after the event. The futility of her actions crashed in on her and she dropped to the sofa, face in hands and almost weeping. Her holiday dream, her fiery passionate affair, turned all to ashes in an instant. She scanned the situation wildly in her mind, following stupid, useless cul-de-sacs of possible action. There was nothing she could do here, fuck all to remedy the disaster she had just helped create. She had to get out. Out of the hotel, the resort, the whole damned island. Leave poor David and his family and this entire fucked mess behind. It seemed the act of a coward, but in truth what other option had she?

She phoned reception and asked them to book a taxi to Larnaca Airport. Her voice trembled, she could hardly string words together, make herself understood. She had to leave immediately, she explained, something had happened. No, nothing to do with the hotel, just something personal. “Please, just book the taxi, get it here as soon as possible!” All her stuff she piled into her suitcase carelessly. She could not remember afterwards how she had made it all fit, minus the hairdryer, which she had to leave behind. Hell, what did it matter? Clutching suitcase and shoulder bag, travel documents at the ready, she made her tentative path to elevator, then reception, scouting about all the time for those she now had to avoid.

At the hotel desk, waiting for news of her taxi, her worst fears were realised. “Ali?” She whirled around, startled to see Melanie. Amy’s mum was staring at her curiously. “Ali, what's the matter?”

“I'm... I'm…” Total blank. No idea what to say. “Aren't you... Aren't you with Amy?”

“No, she rushed ahead. I met Cheryl Richardson and we went for a quick drink. I think Amy was more interested in a night out with you than the Tombs. Ali, what's wrong? What, you're leaving?”

A further moment's stunned silence. Then: “It's my dad.” The thought came as though from nowhere. “He's ill. Really ill. Mum just called. I've got to go home. I... I... I'm sorry…”

“Sweetheart! Don't be sorry!” Melanie overflowed with concern. “You poor poor thing. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, no, it's okay... There's a taxi outside. I've got to go…”

“Of course you do. Come here, darling.” David's wife wrapped her arms around Ali, who hugged back miserably, blinking away tears. She realised she had spent days gathering reasons to dislike this woman, all of them bogus. Before she could protest, Melanie had taken hold of her suitcase. “Let me help you with this.” There was no preventing it, so she allowed Amy's mum to help her outside to where the taxi had just pulled up. “I'll explain everything to Amy,” Melanie assured her, gripping both her shoulders. “She'll be in touch, you can be sure of that. You just get on your way, alright? Go be with your family.”

“Thanks,” Ali gulped, and turned away, tears rolling. The driver was already lifting her case into the back. A desperate thought struck her and she pulled her phone from her bag, pausing just one heart-thudding moment before calling David. As it rang three, four, five times she wondered where he might be, if he was with Amy, if his phone were on silent... Then the call was answered and Amy's voice poured out of the earpiece like Ali had never heard it before.

“Ali? What the hell do you think you’re doing calling? Stay away from my dad! Stay the fuck away from all of us, you poisonous bitch!”

“Amy... Amy, I'm sorry... It just happened, don't blame your dad, it's all my fault... Please say nothing to your mum, it won't help…”

“Don't you tell me what to do! You’ve no fucking right! And you’re damned right it’s your fault!” The girl’s voice was virtually shrieking with tearful rage. “I thought you were my friend and… and all the time you just wanted this, you just used me, used me to… to… You've ruined everything, you evil, horrible, backstabbing…”

Ali heard a tussle over the phone and David's voice pleading, desperate in the background. “Amy, that's enough, that's enough, please love…” He had wrested the apparatus to himself. “Ali, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've got to go…”

“David, listen, please…” She had to try and salvage what she could. “I spoke to Melanie, she doesn’t know. I told her my dad's sick and I'm flying home... I didn't mean this to happen, David…”

Amy's voice was in the background, near-hysterical. “Daddy, don't talk to her! Don't even talk to her…”

“Sorry Ali, sorry... I’ve got to go.”

The call ended, leaving Ali in ruins - as much from Amy's searing hatred as from the thought she was leaving David behind. She sobbed to the airport and could scarcely stop during her flight-booking. Then an all-night wait on standby, during which gloomy numbness set in. And finally flight BA233, the long-haul home. Or at least it seemed long, interminably so.

The plane's battle with turbulence following her exchange with the flight attendant barely registered in Ali's mind. An entire ten-days' saga of secrecy, excitement and lust reeled through her mind as they were buffeted about, all her memories tainted by those final awful moments. The terrible responsibility for what she had done to Amy and David, probably to Melanie, settled on her like lead. But when the journey smoothed out and the seatbelt signs plinked off, she still went to the toilet cubicle and frigged herself silly to a kaleidoscope of erotic images, remembering David's cock frantic inside her and that terrible aghast look on Amy's face. She cried and cried even as she came and it was some sort of release.

As the plane taxied down a Heathrow runway she checked her phone and found a brief text from David: Don't blame yourself, darling. All my fault. Take care x. It was sweet of him, he was such a sweet, darling man, and with the swell of affection came an accompanying stab of pain. But she didn't believe the words, not for a moment. The feelings which still clamoured within her were the reason for all this. Why had she teased him, why had she thought it was so grown up? To flirt with and to court what could only ever have ended in disaster. She wondered exactly what degree of devastation she had left behind.

Her tread was heavy as she walked from the fuselage and down the steps into watery English sunshine. The flight had landed safely, but Ali's summer adventure had crashed and burned. She longed for sleep and then to sob out the whole sorry tale to Sara, the only person she felt she would ever tell. What a complicated business, she thought wearily, to be human, to be adult. So fraught with contradictions and overwhelming urges. And what an amazing, scary, terrible thing was lust.

Ali Fisher walked into the beginnings of her new life feeling saddened and broken and genuinely, painfully grown-up.