Joni and I are a perfect match; we work hard when it’s time to
work, but when we have a chance to relax, we know how to play.
And when we play, life is sometimes nothing more than what Joni
does to pass the time between orgasms.
“I’m so horny my ears are plugged up,” she told me on the flight
down to Miami last January on our mid-winter vacation. When I
see that sparkle in her eyes, I don’t bother to bring up anything
as silly as air pressure.
The drive to Key West only takes a couple of hours, but it can
take much, much longer when you’re in the mood, and Joni gets in
those moods a lot when we’re out of town.
We blasted south in an ivory white Mustang convertible we had
rented at the airport. Sometimes Joni likes to get off with the
top down, but this was her first trip through the Keys, and she
was too busy taking in paradise. Every few miles, she pointed
out another billboard advertising parasailing. We had to try
it.
As soon as we had settled in, we walked over to the dock off
Mallory Square and found an outfit that had a boat free. I went
up first to maintain my macho self-image and to show Joni it was
safe.
I half expected the crew to have to pry her fingers off the
straps when she came down, but I was wrong. They’d barely pulled
off the harness when she climbed into my lap, kissed me and stuck
her tongue in my ear as she told me how turned on she was.
She had seen another parachute go up with a couple sitting on a
bench seat below it and spent twenty minutes aloft thinking about
what I could do to her as we drifted precariously above the
ocean. Danger turns Joni on.
That evening, she joined me in the shower before dinner. With
the water plastering her iridescent blond hair to her cheeks,
Joni wrapped her soft lips around my cock and bobbed
delightfully. She carried me off on a wave of desire, my
attention floating back and forth like dancers on a stage between
watching the water stream down her crack of her pert ass, which
wiggled and swayed as she busied her free hand in her wet fur,
and the smoldering joy that surged through me as I spiraled
upward toward ecstasy.
The next afternoon, we set out to do the wild thing dangling 300
feet above the sparkling Gulf of Mexico. We rented the boat with
the dual for half an hour by ourselves. We didn’t mind if the
crew watched, but we didn’t want to have a family for an
audience.
As soon as they attached our harnesses, we realized that
sit-fucking was going to be impossible, but that didn’t mean we
couldn’t have a little fun. I was too turned on to have any fear
whatsoever, and Joni has never been one to accept defeat.
Especially when it comes to getting her goodies.
While I waited for Joni to get brave, I toyed with her eagerness,
lifting her top and sucking on one tit while I palmed the
saliva-covered areolae of the other. As each rosy tip grew
stiff, her fear evaporated.
“Ooh, I need to rub myself,” she whispered, sucking in her breath
and giggling wickedly when I sat up.
I had no problem with that. Just because I couldn’t get off
didn’t mean she shouldn’t. I looked over at her white-knuckled
grip on the cable and asked, “How are you going to do that?”
With a reluctant sigh, Joni let go long enough to untie the strap
on my side of her bikini bottom. While I licked one nipple, she
rolled the other bullet-hard between her thumb and fore-finger,
and slid the fuck finger of her other hand up and down between
her dewy inner lips. Once she got going, she lifted her leg over
mine so she’d have more room to perform her sordid
self-indulgence.
I cocked my head so I could watch her fingers blur as they
slithered in and out of her sensitive petals. My cock was rigid,
and only inches away from her sweet spot, but there was nothing I
could do to close the gap. It remained bottled promise, out of
reach. But it was worth it; every glorious moment I suffered
through now would be magnified with pleasure later. For Joni,
the pleasure storming her body was just an appetizer.
The offshore wind had been strong enough for the boat to stay in
one spot and hold us up. When Joni started to come, closing her
eyes, nearly delirious with orgasmic delight, the force let up.
The crew wasn’t paying attention and let us drift carelessly
downward. Joni came hard, almost continuously, the whole time we
floated toward the surf.
I was hesitant to draw attention to us by yelling as we sank. I
could reach the cresting waves with my toes when they noticed and
lifted us, full-throttle, back towards the clouds. Joni didn’t
stop thumping, she rubbed faster. The thirty minutes we were up
was long enough for her to flood her pussy four times. When they
began to reel us in, her climax was tossing her about like a toy
boat on the sea below.
When we dropped back onto the platform, Joni’s cheeks were red
with orgasmic satisfaction. She wasn’t as embarrassed about
holding her bikini bottom together as the poor college student
who helped us into the boat was once he realized her glow wasn’t
a sunburn.
I could have waited until we were back inside our bungalow to
feel the delicate twitch of her sweet pussy, but Joni barely gave
me time to shut the patio gate before dropping to her knees in
front of me. She showed me her gratitude for my assistance and
encouragement by draining my nuts into her mouth.
We had great sex the rest of the week, but nothing quite so
outrageous until the morning it was time to head home.
Joni wanted to hit the beach with the camcorder to capture one
last “memory” of the week of our little airborne orgy. She had
me position her in front of the sun with the dual parasail in the
background. When the red light started blinking, she yanked off
her bikini top, tossed it out of sight and pulled her hair back,
like she was basking topless in the Florida sun.
Her honey-colored skin and her full, inviting breasts gained her
an instant fan club of a few lucky men, and even a pair of
clapping, cheering babes. She smiled shyly as she reached for
her top and laughed good-naturedly when they booed as she put it
back on. Audiences also turn Joni on.
I knew I was in for a treat when she spread a towel over her seat
before she hopped into the car. As soon as we hit the highway,
she slipped out of her bikini bottom, pulled out her baby oil. I
got to watch while she strummed her clit halfway to Miami. Then
she had me put the top up so she could take a nap.
We took the tape along to show our friends Tony and Jill when
they invited us over to play pinochle the weekend after we got
home. While Tony was in the bathroom, Jill asked Joni if she had
really meant for me to film her. Joni blushed deliciously, but
smiled with devilish delight and said, “Of course!” Then she
pulled her shorts aside and stretched her panties out of the way
so I could tease her with my toes.
I think Jill knew. She told Joni she’d like to visit us
sometime, alone. I can’t help but wonder what a threesome with
Jill would be like.
Next year, Joni and I are going to rent a boat by ourselves for
the entire hour. If we can’t get them to strap us together, she
promises she’ll jerk me off.
