“News travels fast,” Rayne said, a little more dryly.
“Have a drink,” Dan interjected, pouring a pinkish concoction from a tall, glass jug in the centre of the table and pushing the glass towards him.
Rayne sipped it warily. There was vodka in there and some fruit mixture that he could not decipher, cranberries possibly, or redcurrants. It was early to start drinking but he figured that he needed it and downed the lot at one draught. Daniel said nothing, only refilled his glass.
“I thought I might go for a walk,” Rayne told him, emboldened by the vodka. “Y’know, get my bearings and what ‘ave you.”
“Should you not wait until Antoine wakes?” Isolde asked him solicitously. Dan was looking at him with a rather doubtful expression on his craggy face.
“He’s not my mother. I’m a big boy now. I’m not going to get lost or run away or nothin’,” Rayne said in a determined tone. “I’ve no bloody clothes on for a start. I wouldn’t get far, would I?”
“You should be careful,” the older man responded seriously, taking the deck chair opposite their lounger now.
“I will be.” Rayne held his stare defiantly.
“You do not know this place. It is… fun, yes but there are darker elements here also. There are people here who are not as they might seem. Just… be careful.” Leland sighed and took a sip from his own glass. “Will you not eat first?”
“I’m never ‘ungry first thing in the morning,” Rayne said neutrally, finishing his second drink and setting the tumbler down as he rose.
“You should put on some sun cream before you go out,” Isolde warned solemnly, though there was a twinkle in her eye. “Such a pale skin, you will burn for sure.”
“Are you gonna help me?” he asked cheekily, feeling the alcohol bubbling through his veins, giving him more confidence.
By way of a reply, she rose with him and nudged him back into the day room.
Isolde’s long brown hands were firm and gentle on his face and neck, smoothing the sun oil into his skin in slow, deliberate circles. She took her time and forbade him to help her, so he watched her more openly this time, appreciating the rise and fall of her perfect curves as she stroked the contours of his naked body.
“How long does it take to get that colour?” he wanted to know.
“I have lived here for… nearly thirty years,” Isolde said, hesitating only slightly in order to count them off.
“You must have been a child when you first came then,” he ventured with a grin.
“Pretty and charming also,” Isolde smiled at him as she stroked his skinny arms and his bare chest and belly. “Turn about.”
When he turned away from her reluctantly, she applied a drizzle of the lukewarm oil to his naked back and rubbed it in steadily. Her hands felt good on his body and he closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the steady swirling touch of her fingers and palms on his bare skin. “I was seventeen when I came here first, with my lover. He stayed with me for two years only, then left me. Since then I have lived by my own wits.”
“You’re nearly fifty?” he exclaimed softly, opening his eyes wide and shaking his head. “Bloody ‘ell!”
A Boy Who Came In from the Cold
“That surprises you?” Isolde knelt and he could feel her warm breath on his buttocks and the backs of his thighs as she caressed his skin wetly there. Her thumb glided every so seductively down the crevice between his cheeks and he caught a sharp intake of the sultry morning air as it lingered there. Isolde asked; “Does that feel good?”
“Yeah.”
She oiled him carefully between his legs and he parted his thighs automatically as she stroked the downy inner flanks with her slippery hands. Strong, warm fingers curled around his calves and rubbed smoothly up and down his shins to his ankles and feet.
“Turn,” she said in a voice that was little more than a breathy whisper.
As he obeyed her, he noted that Leland was standing in the doorway watching them with a boyishly eager smile. Rayne swallowed with a little difficulty and tried to glare at him but it made no difference. Isolde carefully lavished oil on the tops of his feet and his ankles, then his knees and the front of his slim thighs. He waited for her to tell him that he could do the rest himself but she did not.
He was half-hard and conscious of it as she began to oil his balls, cupping them in her left hand and stroking them carefully with the right until they were hot and slippery and he was leaking a dribble of semen from his stiffening tool. He quivered as she rubbed her hands down her thighs to get rid of the excess sun oil, then wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly pulled on it. Isolde worked her way to the throbbing head, squeezing him gently, then smoothed her hand back down his shaft, manicured fingers curled tight around it, easing back his foreskin so that the glans was exposed to her warm breath. He moaned quietly, biting on his lower lip again as she rose on her knees and bent her mouth to his erect penis. Rayne began to huff rapidly as she licked and sucked on the head of his sex, swirling her tongue around it and teasing the oozing eyelet with the tip.
When she pulled him down onto the bed with her, Rayne did not resist. He was throbbing with need and as she removed her nipple rings and passed him the bottle of oil he wasted no time in rubbing a handful into her naked breasts. They were unexpectedly firm and smooth, yielding only a little to his fondling hands, but she sighed her appreciation and wriggled down lower onto the crisp, white duvet as he caressed her, bending over her to kiss her lips and her neck. The oil was sweet smelling and slightly tart on his tongue when he began to kiss and suck on her breasts, his hands moving up and down from her slim waist to the swell of her mammaries as he pulled on her nipples with his mouth. He took his time, sheathing his teeth behind his lips so that he did not hurt her and her groans of arousal suggested that she certainly approved.
“You like my breasts?” she growled huskily.
“Are they real?” he whispered wickedly, running his tongue slowly around one nipple and then the other until she shivered with pleasure.
“Cheeky boy! What do ‘you’ think?”
“‘alf and ‘alf,” he grinned back at her. “I reckon ‘real’ tits are softer than that. Not that I don’t approve,” he added quickly when her eyebrows lowered in warning. “I’ve never sucked a pair as big as yours.”
Dan Leland was forgotten as he bent over her, his hands moving to her thighs and stroking their way up the smooth, lean expanses of her legs. She spread herself willingly for him and he mouthed and suckled more greedily on her heaving bosom, rubbing his face between her rolling breasts and inhaling her hot, sweet aroma, then kissing his way down to her belly reaching for her pussy. As his hands parted her thighs, the sarong fell away and he sat back with a start.
“Jesus Christ!”
Isolde’s hands caught his wrists, keeping him from falling over backwards. She was saying something soothing to him but his ears were buzzing and his heart was racing too fast for him to follow the words. In the background Leland was laughing quietly.