Passport to Him - Page 10

BIRTHDAY SEX IN BARBADOS

I hada comprehensive list of locations, positions, and experiences on my penis passport. First stop, Barbados and it was conveniently my birthday. Which meant birthday sex for me. I smooth out my white one-piece swimsuit which showed off more of my body than I ever have before. I pull it away from my butt cheeks before I got a massive wedgie. I walk down the stairs into the pool, and I am met with warm sapphire blue pool water. Unsurprisingly the only people near me were sitting under a small straw-thatched roof in the middle of the pool. As I wade further into the water, my body welcomes the warm temperate water around my freshly lotioned skin. I have been here in Barbados for almost a week and my skin was definitely kissed by the sun. I sat down in the floating chairs against the bar. A swim-up bar is possibly the best invention made to date. The bartender was busy with another customer, so I turned my head to the direction of the waves in the distance. The sounds of the tide were mesmerizing. I have seen beaches in Florida before, but it paled in comparison to the beauty of Barbados.

Looking over I get a full glimpse of the bartender and the breath hitches in my throat. Fuck this man was hot. His ivory t-shirt and black board shorts must have been his relaxed uniform and I was not complaining in the least. His gold chain around his neck deeply contrasted against his white t-shirt which hid several neck tattoos of varied sizes on his cinnamon-colored skin. He meets my gaze and instantly I look anywhere but in his direction. He wades through the water to get to me. He places his palms on the bar in front of me and for the first time I look deep into this man’s green eyes.

Emerald fucking green eyes.

“What can I getcha?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically deep and thick with Bajan accent.

“Fuck me,” I choke.

“Excuse me?” he asked, smiling an amused dimpled smile.

“A shot of Cuervo Gold,” I said confidently.

I can do this. It’s nothing. Just take a shot and tell him to fuck you. Rip it off like a band-aid.

He pours a shot of the requested tequila into a shot glass and pushes it across the bar in front of me. Without thinking, I grab the shot glass and down the amber liquid down my throat in one quick gulp. The tastes of lime, citrus and pepper swirled in my mouth and sent shivers down my spine. My shoulders danced and pumped my fists in the air to combat the sourness of the tequila burning down my throat. The man in front of me scratched his thin beard as his mouth turned up in an amused smile. Fuck that’s hot.

“It’s a little early for downing shots, no?” he asks.

“Not on your birthday,” I say, my voice strained from downing straight tequila like a fucking dumbass.

“Awe, happy birthday,” he exclaims, his eyes twinkling at me.

“Yep, another one,” I say, before pushing the now empty shot glass in front of him.

He takes the glass in his fingers and starts to run his fingers along his beard before clutching his chin between his fingers. I drank for an hour, sipping on liquid courage but it failed.

* * *

I layin a hammock on the soft sand beach with the beginnings of a tequila headache. My hands rested behind my head as I rocked back and forth with the movements of the hammock below me. The sounds of the white swash of the rolling waves of the turquoise waters were my lullaby. I was content, or was that the tequila? Either way I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Settling my last day in Barbados on a most welcomed note: buzzed and unbelievably fucking horny. Just then, a shadow stood over me. Standing between me and the sunlight bearing down on me was the hot bartender.

“Jesus,” I breathe, frantically trying to sit up in the hammock, but he stops it with his hands to steady me.

“I have something for you,” he said with a half-smile.

“Oh yeah?”

From behind his back, he presents a beautiful white iced drink covered in sprinkles and sitting inside whip cream at the top was a lit candle.

“A drink special for the birthday girl,” he said.

“You made this?” I croak.

“Pineapple and vanilla vodka with ice cream.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Akeem,” he said, nodding to me.

Fuck, what name do I give him? Vanessa? No. Laura.

“Laura,” I reply, off-handedly.

“Make a wish, Laura,” he tells me.

My wish? Fuck me right here on this beach and make me cum like no one else has, please.

I shake my head to curb the dirtiness in my thoughts away. I blow out the candle in front of me gently and he hands me the cream-colored frozen drink. I take a sip as the sprinkles mix with the frozen concoction. It’s delicious. Not only is this man sexy as fucking hell, but he also knows how to make a fucking drink.

“I hope the wish was everything you imagine,” he says.

“I hope so.”

“I wish to take you around Barbados. See the island right on your special day,” he states.

I nod in agreement making his eyes twinkle.

Fuck. Does he know what those eyes do to women? He has to know. This man will definitely fuck me before the night is over.

* * *

Tags: Brittany McMahan Erotic
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