When I had planned this trip, I tried to make a very exact schedule. But I had built in a few extra days since the last trip had been hard when I didn’t get a lot of rest and had a lot of long jumps. I had planned to stay a day in Mombassa. But I had stayed an extra day in Marsabit and had left at dawn and it wasn’t even 8 in the morning. The next hop was 2 hours 43 minutes in the air. I could be there before noon if I could get a quick turn. I could spend that extra day on a tropical island. So when the fuel truck came over, I helped the guy fuel the plane and checked oil. It was almost eight when I was ready so I turned the plane and contacted the tower asking for departure. I was taxied out. I asked for a mid field departure. In the US, ATC won’t ever give you a mid field departure. The Mustang lifts off in 1,000 feet with the clean wings and no bombs or rockets. Why do I need two miles of runway? But the rules are the rules. Use the entire runway. But the controller said mid field departure approved. Yeah. That saved me a mile of taxi. I went straight out onto the runway. All the settings were in so I revved up that big engine and off we went. Again, I was off way before the end of the runway and climbing out over the Indian Ocean. This was my second time across the Indian Ocean and I hoped this one would be a lot less eventful.
I was bound for the Seychelles Islands. The main airport had been built out into the water so that there was water at both ends of the runway. I remember seeing airports like that before I started flying and thinking that was crazy. What if you miss? Then I started flying myself. I learned to land on a runway 60 feet wide and 2,600 feet long. I learned it wasn’t hard to hit a runway. It took practice to make a nice smooth landing, but I could hit the runway the first time I landed, it was just a little bumpy is all. So I wasn’t worried anymore about the water on both ends of the runway, especially a big commercial one like the one on the Seychelles.
They brought me around the northern end of the island and I was able to see the Hilton Hotel where I had booked a room. 
I looked down as I banked around the point of land that had the hotel and I started day dreaming about lying out on the beach and drinking some tropical concoction.
But the controller broke my thoughts with the mundane landing instructions. I landed on runway 13 and missed the taxiway almost at the end. There weren’t any other taxiways so I had to turn around mid runway and back taxi on 13 to the terminal all the way at the north end of the runway.
The Hilton had a shuttle at the airport waiting for a scheduled flight. In my flight suit, I felt the heat and humidity. Luckily I only had to wait a little while. I and one other couple piled into the van and the driver took off. The airport is way to the south and the hotel to the north of Mahe Island, the largest of the Seychelles islands. It also holds 70% of the population and is the tourist destination. The center of the island is mountainous so we followed the beach to Victoria, the capital, then across a valley to the western shore and north to the hotel. The couple was from France on their honeymoon. The girl was butt ugly but I bet she had a nice personality so I wished them well. Love is blind.
The Hotel is breathtaking, but it is just like so many other hotels. My room looked out over the Indian Ocean, an incredible blue in the tropics. After changing into something light, I headed for the bar then the pool. I sat watching several attractive ladies sunning themselves in the hot tropical sun. I hoped they had brought good sunscreen or they would be lobsters in no time. I have to use the highest SPF I can find for my pale ass Irish skin.
Since I wasn’t going to be flying the next day, I could really relax and have some of those tropical delights with alcohol. Eight hours from the bottle to the throttle is one of those lessons learned the hard way. At higher altitudes in unpressurized cockpits, like mine, even small traces of alcohol in the blood can affect performance. So I relaxed and drank Margaritas and watched the lovely women. I also napped. I finally raised my lazy butt in time for dinner as a cooling wind was blowing in off the ocean.
There were three restaurants and I chose the one that looked the most interesting, Les Cocotiers a French Creole inspired place. Because of the cool breeze, they opened the restaurant to the open air. At the next table were two attractive women, one blonde one brunette. They weren’t speaking English. After I ordered, they both gave me the eye, I suspect because I might have been the only single guy in the place, maybe in the hotel. I’m sure I became much more handsome because of that.
The brunette asked me, “Are you American?”
“Yes.”
“How come you have come all the way to the Seychelles?” she asked.
So I went into my spiel about flying around the world. They both got interested and finally the blonde said, “Why don’t you sit with us. It would be so much easier than talking like this. So I grabbed my wine glass and bottle and joined them. The waiter took it in stride. They started asking me all the questions about the type of plane and route and wasn’t it dangerous. It turned out they were from Luxembourg, Caroline and Lara, spoke French, German, and English and worked for the EU in one of the many EU organizations there.
Dinner was fun, especially sharing it with a couple of attractive women. I grabbed the tab and they protested but I won. After dinner we wandered out to the outdoor restaurant and bar looking over the ocean. We sat and talked some more and enjoyed some French wines the girls recommended. After a while, the blonde, Caroline, asked if I had gone swimming in the ocean yet. When I said no, she insisted we go tomorrow. It seems Lara was afraid of the sharks, not an unreasonable fear since the sharks in the Indian Ocean seem to like to chew on humans. Most of the shark attacks in the world occur in the Indian Ocean. I agreed to meet her the next morning before we split up went off to our rooms.
Caroline called me in the morning and told me to get my lazy behind dressed and meet her down at the beach. If she had been just a little bit less lovely, I would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. Instead, I rolled out of bed, got ready and went down. She took me around the little point of land and to a cove sheltered by rocks. She dropped her towel and things including her bikini top and ran into the water.
“Come on,” she called out. “Don’t be afraid of the sharks.”
I had forgotten how most Europeans don’t have the American body shame. I tossed my things on the beach and dove in. We swam around then splashed each other and she chased me to the rocks in the water and I chased her back to the beach. She ran out onto the beach and I chased her up to the towels. We fell laughing onto the towels. It was one of those moments when everything just sort of went quiet as we looked into each others’ eyes. She leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed her back. We rolled towards each other as I took her in my arms and we were kissing seriously. I loved the feeling of her breasts against my chest, the nipples hard and pointed, maybe from the water, maybe not. People talk about sex on the beach and romantic but I tell you, it’s not all its cracked up to be. The rocks are hard and the sand gets to place it just shouldn’t. But with us kissing like crazy and she started rubbing against my now hard cock, it wasn’t going to be stopped.
We pushed our bottoms off and I rolled over on top. She led me to the goal and I scored. I didn’t care if my knees were going to be shredded by those rocks. She felt glorious around my cock. It was one of those simple we both want it kind of fucks. I’m sure she had gone on vacation to the tropical paradise expecting to find some romance. She finally got a live one and the bottled up desire exploded. It had been a while for me as well. So I gave it to her and she met me thrust for thrust, giving as good as she got. It didn’t take all that long before I could see the signs of her climax, the flush and the moans changing tambour. She cried out and I felt her pulsing around my cock. That did it for me as I emptied myself in her grasping pussy.
We caught our breath and smiled at each other. I mean what else can you do? She ran down to the water and I followed. We washed in the salt water getting the worst off before heading back to the hotel. There was an outdoor shower by the pool. She used it first and I was surprised how thoroughly she washed. But then the guests were mostly European and they didn’t even bat an eye. I followed her in the shower and got the sand out of those delicate places.
We lazed away the day lying next to each other talking, and when we got hot, jumping in the pool. Lunch was at the outdoor bar and restaurant. Lara showed up after lunch. The girls talked a little in French and she gave me a look. Then of course, they had to go off to the girl’s room, to dissect my performance I’m sure. Lara joined us for the afternoon and we talked and went in the pool. I learned a lot more about Luxembourg than I ever knew before. Hell, I’d never met anyone from there and might not again.
They invited me to dinner at the main restaurant. It was a buffet style but was a good buffet, not a cheap one. It abounded in seafood. There were even shark steaks for those who wanted to get even. The girls had arranged to pick up the tab and when I complained they said tough. After dinner, Lara excused herself, she was tired. How she got tired I wouldn’t know. Caroline and I went out and watched the stars. I kissed her and she wrapped herself around me.
Next thing I knew we were in my room. The big windows leading out to the veranda were open to the breeze. We kissed again. Soon, clothes were on the floor and we were in bed. I’m not a big breast man for the most part, but Caroline’s breasts were perfect. I made love to them, teasing, licking, sucking, and tweaking. I went down between her legs. She tasted wonderfully fresh and yet like a woman. But she was having none of this. She scrambled around until she was over me in the classic 69. She vacuumed up my cock, half hard already and full in no time. I went back to work licking and sucking her. It was like everything I did to her made her want to suck me better. Usually, as a woman got close, she kind of would lose it and forget the old cock. But Caroline was just the opposite. The closer she got the more she sucked. I couldn’t hold back and exploded. As I exploded, she really vacuumed the staff, emptying my balls. I managed to get her off as well, hanging on for dear life as she bounced around on my face.
Caroline went limp above me except she kept lightly sucking on my cock as it lost vigor. It was just light enough not to drive me crazy since it was sensitive. I was still looking up at her pussy, not that I minded. I never really lost the hard on completely. Her sucking kept the interest going and soon the blood flow reversed. It started getting hard again. As it did, Caroline noticed and increased the suction and movement. Pretty soon, I was at full length and Caroline sat up, swung around, mounted me cowgirl, and lowered herself onto my cock.
She leaned over until I could get my mouth on those delicious knockers as she started sliding up and down my staff. I like the cowgirl position because it leaves the woman free to do what she most likes. If you pay attention, you can find out what she likes: the old quick in and out, the slow deep rubbing around, or a combination. Caroline liked different strokes. She continuously changed from one to another and another. Because I had just cum I had no real desire to cum immediately. I played with her nipples as I enjoyed the way she used my staff to please herself. Sometimes she would lean over me and I could get those tasty nipples in my mouth, sometimes she would sit up straight her head thrown back and grind down hard. She never did exactly get going fast and it kind of snuck up on me. Suddenly, she went stiff her head thrown back and mouth open, her whole body jerked over and over in time with her pussy pulsing on my cock. Then like a balloon losing air she just slumped forward onto me.
My cock slid part way out from the position. I waited a minute or so, then I started moving under her, fucking up into her drenched pussy. Caroline responded and moaned so I rolled her to the side, got behind her, lifted her beautiful round ass in the air, and slid deeply into her pussy.
She was still turned on from the sex and quickly was back on the way to climax. Her hands convulsively gripped the sheets as I slid over her button on the way in. I was still wasn’t close and watched as she hit her peak spasming on my cock, then slid onto the bed. I grabbed her hips and went down with her keeping my shaft in her. She lay flat on the bed and I started banging her again. Now she started moaning and chanting, “Mon Dieu, oui, oui, oui…”
Now I felt it coming up on me, that wonderful tightening in the balls and I knew I was close. Once more, then a long thrust and it burst, sending my cum deep into her. Blast after blast I filled her up as she cried out in French. I have no idea what she said but it sounded good. Drained, I pulled out and fell to her side. She rolled to her side and kissed me practically trying to get into my skin. “Mon Dieu, that was so good. So many times…” I was happy. There is nothing like a well fucked woman, especially when you are the one who did it.
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Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2009