1. Wedding Cake Island - Part 1


    Date: 9/24/2017, Categories: Group Sex, Author: blin18, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    This is a continuation of my previous stories: Ingenious Toys, and Dirty Talk. ~~~ Spike went for a walk at about 4:30pm and came back half an hour later with a waterproof dilly-bag over his shoulder and a surfboard under each arm. One of the boards looked pretty normal but the other looked more like a ten foot long banana. It was huge, yellow, three times thicker than the other board and looked like it could float a small family to New Zealand. “Gnarly board, dude,” I teased. “Gonna do some carvin’?” “Very funny,” he said. “This is the thanks I get for thinking of you. I’m not loaning you one of my boards because your tiny little body will get carried off to Tasmania in the current. I borrowed this from a mate at the Surf Life Saving Club; it’s a rescue board. You’re riding tandem with me.” “Oh, how thoughtful,” I chirped apologetically. “What’s in the bag?” It looked heavy. “Wax,” he said straight faced. Obviously not all was forgiven. I guess I would find out in good time. “When do we go?” I asked. “Now, if you two are ready,” he said. “It might take half an hour to get out there, depending on how Rupali paddles.” “Do you have wetsuits for us?” I asked. “Nope. Overnight low of 27 degrees Celsius,” he said. “It’ll still be over 30 by the time we come back in.” He’d thought of everything. “Amateur meteorologist?” I asked with a grin. “Weather bureau,” he smiled. “Home page of surfers the world over.” Rupali took her board. “Is this one special?” “Not so much. I use it on ...
    rocks and reefs,” Spike said. “Oh,” Rupali looked deflated, realising she’d been handed the surfboard equivalent of a Volkswagon Beetle. “Oh, I almost forgot...” she quickly turned and dashed back to her beach bag, rooted around in the bottom and brought out a black velvet pouch concealing a large, ominous shape that could have been a socket wrench… or a maybe an Xbox controller… but probably wasn’t either. “Pop this in your bag for me, will you, Spike?” “What is it?” we asked in unison, Spike with curiosity, me with incredulity; if I knew Rupali then it had to be some kind of sex toy, but I didn’t recognise it – obviously a new purchase and one that she hadn’t let me in on. “Lipstick,” she smiled. “Touché,” muttered Spike as he knelt down to pack away Rupali’s mystery prize and attach the surfboard’s strap to her ankle. Tease that she is, she stepped forward with the other foot, legs apart and vagina a few inches from Spike’s nose. He finished with the strap and then reached between her legs and goosed her on the bottom. She squawked and jumped back, a little more contrite. This was not the same gentlemanly, shy boy we met this morning; if we played games with him, he was going to play them right back. He picked up the board, popped it under Rupali’s arm and then stood back to take in the view: long brown limbs, black hair cascading over one shoulder, hot pink bikini clinging to her curves and a surfboard under her arm. “Now that looks hot,” he said. “What did I look like ...
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