You trailed your lips over the expanse of my chest, then lower to my belly. Finally, you dropped to your knees in the stall and, in one swift motion, ...ook my entire length in your mouth. Your tongue danced along my shaft as I sucked in a breath. You mouth was warm, wet, and wonderful. You slid your hands over my hips and back to grip my ass, holding me still while you bobbed your head back and forth, driving me crazy. I reached down and fisted your wet hair in my hands. You lips and tongue sent. Still very little personal contact, but I wasn’t going to rush it with her. There was too much at stake. St. Maarten/St. Martin was an amazing experience. Two different cultures, Dutch and French, alive and well on one Caribbean island. There were times during that two week stay that I thought I was in the south of France once again. I rented a scooter on my first day. It proved to be the perfect transportation on the little island. I shaved off my goatee, and began to acquire a tan. Every day. More

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