1. White Bikini, Tina, Water, Oh My!


    Date: 7/15/2017, Categories: First Time, Hardcore, Taboo, Author: brianbigdogsmith, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    Sweet fresh water slid down my parched throat as I bent over and drank from the spigot, cooling my mouth and moistening my arid throat, bringing blessed relief I'd desperately needed. Bending over further, I let the cold water run over the back of my head and neck. It felt like an ice shower, heaven in this one hundred and eighteen degree heat. Straightening, residual water ran down my chest, dampening and darkening my polo shirt, and trickled teasingly down my spine making me shiver. The cool relief felt wonderful. The smell of brine floated on the air from the sea, seagulls swooped and cried out a melody to the rhythmic cadence of the surf crashing in and hissing out, crashing in and hissing out; a hypnotic and relaxing sound. For a moment I took a break. Deep aquamarine swells moved with metronomic precision across the bay. My speedboat bobbed from the remains of yesterday's storm, tugging at the mooring lines like a stubborn puppy trying to get loose from its leash to chase after a bird. Unusually white sand twinkled with diamond-like sparks in the sun; heat shimmering, an invisible blanket hovering and distorting inches above it. I felt good. I loved living here, my little corner of heaven. Bending back to reconstructing the wall brought down by the storm, I slapped mortar and shaped it, placing bricks, tapping and aligning, altogether mindless work that had a particularly rewarding feeling as the waist-high wall rose again. I thought back to last week. The cell phone ...
    call had come as I was deep into writing. Sitting hunched over the laptop wracking my brain from an unusual lack of inspiration, the ceiling fan wheezed as it turned lazily providing no relief from the heat, while sweat slipped between my shoulder blades. I'd been jolted by the ring of an old-fashioned British telephone, my cell jittering across the ash wood desk. I managed to grab it as it made a desperate suicidal dash towards the edge. &#034Hello?&#034 &#034May I speak to Mr. Stevens?&#034 a pleasant voice asked, deep, male, polite, and somewhat officious. &#034Speaking.&#034 &#034Mr. Chet Stevens?&#034 it asked. &#034Are there many Stevens with this phone number?&#034 I inquired. His question seemed quite stupid. I wondered if he realized it. &#034Ah. Quite. Sorry,&#034 he said with a tinge of embarrassment. &#034My name is Peters. I am an attorney and executor of your s****r-in-law's estate.&#034 There was a pause as if he was waiting for me to talk. I didn't recall him asking a question. &#034Well done then,&#034 I finally said to break the silence. Perhaps it would jump-start him. It may have confused him, Mr. Peters, attorney at law. After a few moments hesitation he continued. &#034Yes, well. Hmm. Let me see. Oh, I am executor of your s****r-in-law's estate...&#034 &#034Was there something specific you needed to talk to me about Mr. Peters?&#034 I interrupted, staring out through the slatted glass window at banana plant leaves and palm fronds rustling in the breeze. ...
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