Read Online Bigger Girls Do It Collection: 4 Complete Erotic Romance Stories by Ulriche Kacey Padraige - Free Book Online
Authors: Ulriche Kacey Padraige
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she really was on a private island in paradise.
There was more chilled champagne in the fridge and a platter of hors d’oeuvres. Clifford took a bottle of champagne and the platter to the back deck. They were naked.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and he was, carrying a vibrant wrap for her and wearing a similar wrap tied around his waist.
Alison made a makeshift sundress from her wrap by tying it around her chest under her armpits.
Clifford was also carrying two champagne glasses which he filled.
He toasted, “To us.”
When Harold and Britanny joined them, they were wearing similar cover-ups. Clifford went and retrieved more champagne and glasses.
The fucking was not over for the night. After the second bottle of champagne, the limo returned with a catered meal of local seafood delicacies.
Time became irrelevant as the days passed. Food appeared when it was needed. The supply of champagne seemed endless and platters of shrimp and lobster and caviar were always attractively arranged and in the fridge for hungry snackers.
The fucking never seemed to diminish either. They screwed, ate, listened to music, screwed some more, drank champagne and played in the pool.
They talked, each couple getting to know each other better and more intimately.
Somewhere in the middle of the week, Alison woke up and discovered that Clifford was out of bed. She sat up and looked around the room. She listened carefully but heard no sound of anyone moving around in the villa.
She got out of bed and pulled the wrap around her, tying it over her breasts. She padded to the window and looked out. She saw the moon shining on the turquoise water and she saw Clifford standing near the pool, looking out over the water.
It seemed redundant to have the pool with the beach just a few hundred feet away. Suddenly she felt a wistful wave of nostalgia and loss. This was a dream that she did not want to end.
It wasn’t just the sex and the champagne. It was the easy companionship they had.
She realized that the atmosphere was pure fantasy and that was likely a large part of the whole emotional response she was having. But she was pretty sure she was falling in love.
Alison tried to imagine hanging out with Clifford in her place, with her regular life going on around her and to her surprise she realized that it would be just as good. Maybe there would not be a constant supply of caviar and champagne but the conversation and the cuddles and sex would be there.
She stood in the window watching Clifford looking out over the sea and she wondered what he was thinking. She felt a scary moment of loneliness. What, she wondered, if he was thinking about going home early because he was bored?
Clifford came back in the house and went back upstairs. When he entered the bedroom, he saw that Alison was awake.
“Did I wake you?”
She shook her head, “no.”
“I was looking at the moon.”
“So was I,” she admitted
“I don’t want this to end.”
“Me either. “
“Do you have to go back to work on Monday?”
“I said I would be there.”
“Can you give them notice?”
“If I had another job, I would.”
“Would being my wife be the kind of job you would accept?” That was what Clifford wanted to say. Instead, he said, “well we have a few more days to enjoy this place.”
Time did not have meaning and day and night were both beautiful on the private island.
On Friday, Clifford apologized for having to do a little bit of business. The women went out to the deck and left Clifford alone to do his work, whatever it was and Harold stayed with him. The low rumble of their voices wafted in the background but the women could not hear their words.
Britanny said, “Imagine us, here. It’s paradise.”
“I’ll never forget this place.”
It rained that night, great torrential pouring rain with drops bigger than either woman had ever seen. The rain crashed down all night long. There was thunder and lightning and wind.
In the
There was more chilled champagne in the fridge and a platter of hors d’oeuvres. Clifford took a bottle of champagne and the platter to the back deck. They were naked.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and he was, carrying a vibrant wrap for her and wearing a similar wrap tied around his waist.
Alison made a makeshift sundress from her wrap by tying it around her chest under her armpits.
Clifford was also carrying two champagne glasses which he filled.
He toasted, “To us.”
When Harold and Britanny joined them, they were wearing similar cover-ups. Clifford went and retrieved more champagne and glasses.
The fucking was not over for the night. After the second bottle of champagne, the limo returned with a catered meal of local seafood delicacies.
Time became irrelevant as the days passed. Food appeared when it was needed. The supply of champagne seemed endless and platters of shrimp and lobster and caviar were always attractively arranged and in the fridge for hungry snackers.
The fucking never seemed to diminish either. They screwed, ate, listened to music, screwed some more, drank champagne and played in the pool.
They talked, each couple getting to know each other better and more intimately.
Somewhere in the middle of the week, Alison woke up and discovered that Clifford was out of bed. She sat up and looked around the room. She listened carefully but heard no sound of anyone moving around in the villa.
She got out of bed and pulled the wrap around her, tying it over her breasts. She padded to the window and looked out. She saw the moon shining on the turquoise water and she saw Clifford standing near the pool, looking out over the water.
It seemed redundant to have the pool with the beach just a few hundred feet away. Suddenly she felt a wistful wave of nostalgia and loss. This was a dream that she did not want to end.
It wasn’t just the sex and the champagne. It was the easy companionship they had.
She realized that the atmosphere was pure fantasy and that was likely a large part of the whole emotional response she was having. But she was pretty sure she was falling in love.
Alison tried to imagine hanging out with Clifford in her place, with her regular life going on around her and to her surprise she realized that it would be just as good. Maybe there would not be a constant supply of caviar and champagne but the conversation and the cuddles and sex would be there.
She stood in the window watching Clifford looking out over the sea and she wondered what he was thinking. She felt a scary moment of loneliness. What, she wondered, if he was thinking about going home early because he was bored?
Clifford came back in the house and went back upstairs. When he entered the bedroom, he saw that Alison was awake.
“Did I wake you?”
She shook her head, “no.”
“I was looking at the moon.”
“So was I,” she admitted
“I don’t want this to end.”
“Me either. “
“Do you have to go back to work on Monday?”
“I said I would be there.”
“Can you give them notice?”
“If I had another job, I would.”
“Would being my wife be the kind of job you would accept?” That was what Clifford wanted to say. Instead, he said, “well we have a few more days to enjoy this place.”
Time did not have meaning and day and night were both beautiful on the private island.
On Friday, Clifford apologized for having to do a little bit of business. The women went out to the deck and left Clifford alone to do his work, whatever it was and Harold stayed with him. The low rumble of their voices wafted in the background but the women could not hear their words.
Britanny said, “Imagine us, here. It’s paradise.”
“I’ll never forget this place.”
It rained that night, great torrential pouring rain with drops bigger than either woman had ever seen. The rain crashed down all night long. There was thunder and lightning and wind.
In the
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