Sixteen

Sandra laughed. “Too bad we don’t have more time here so we could finish them off.”

She couldn’t believe she’d actually done most of the items on the list. Over the course of two short weeks, she’d become a wild woman. And she loved it!

“Don’t worry. There are still plenty of weekends left this summer.”

Moments later, they stepped onto the beach where they’d gone skinny-dipping that first morning on the island. Craig waved at them from the raft, where he stood totally naked, then dove into the water. James lay on his back on the raft, also naked.

Aimee laughed and shed her towel, then ran into the water. Sandra tossed aside her towel and followed. She swam straight to the raft and climbed onto it, then stood in front of James, blocking the sun. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her.

“Good morning.”

“It is,” she agreed, then she knelt over his thighs and wrapped her hands around his cock. It had been lying quietly on his legs, but at her touch, it bounced to life. She stroked and it swelled and hardened in her hand. An amazing thing, really.

With her free hand, she stroked her breast, the nipples already hard from the cool water. He covered her other breast with his hot hand and stroked. She wanted him. Now. She tweaked her nipple, then stroked down her stomach to her opening, then stroked herself, feeling the slickness. She pressed his cock to her slit and eased herself down on him.

“Oh, God that feels good,” he said. “I take it you missed me.”

“Oh, yeah.” She squeezed him inside her, then rose up and glided down again.

She rode up and down, filling her passage with his hard shaft, driving pleasure through her. It welled up and blasted through her as she wailed in release. He groaned and filled her with hot liquid.

She rolled on her back and glanced around. Craig and Aimee sat on the side of the raft watching her, Craig stroking his own huge cock. Her gaze shifted to the tiger tattoo on his bicep. So sexy.

She opened her arms to him. “Craig. How about it?”

Craig glanced toward Aimee, and she smiled and nodded. He prowled over her and pressed his huge cock to her opening. She gasped as he thrust straight in. She wrapped her arms around his big broad shoulders.

“Fuck me. Hard.”

He grinned and kissed her nose. Then he drew back and thrust again. And again. He pounded into her, catapulting her to another orgasm. She clung to his shoulders as she moaned, waves of pleasure washing through her. He tensed and groaned.

Craig rolled to her side and lay beside her. As her breathing returned to normal, she heard moaning and glanced around. James’ cock thrust in and out of Aimee on the other side of the swim raft.

She felt no jealousy watching James fucking Aimee.

But what if she knew he was her Fantasy Stranger. Would she feel jealous then? What if she knew it was Craig?

What if Aimee suggested putting on a mask to be with Sandra’s Fantasy Stranger? The very thought sent jealousy surging through her.

*   *   *

Sandra watched the shore whipping past as the boat raced across the water.

“Are you asking me to tell you who the Fantasy Stranger is?” Aimee asked.

Sandra pursed her lips. “No, that’s not it. I just … I don’t understand why I’m feeling this way. If I know who it is, will I stop obsessing over him? Or will it only make it worse?”

“What if these feelings you have for the Fantasy Stranger are real?”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. If they were real, why wouldn’t I feel them when I’m with the man without the mask?”

Aimee shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe the Fantasy Stranger isn’t either James or Craig.”

Sandra raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you brought a third man to the island?”

“Well, why not?” Aimee grinned. “You liked the two you saw. Would it have been wrong of me to have a spare tucked away for a special occasion?”

“Yes, it would be wrong.” Sandra leaned back in her seat.

Aimee glanced toward her. “Why?”

“Well, because I’d never met him.”

Aimee turned the boat in a wide curve, and Sandra saw the marina ahead.

“You’d never met Craig before and I thought you hadn’t met James.”

“But I did meet them before I had sex with them.”

“Well, that’s exactly the point, honey.” Aimee slowed the boat as they approached the dock. “You had met them. So neither of them fit the sex with a stranger role.”

“Are you saying the Fantasy Stranger isn’t James or Craig?”

“I’m not really saying anything. You said you didn’t want to know who he was. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”

Aimee pulled the boat into the slip and turned off the engine, then hopped onto the dock and tossed a loop over the cleat. Sandra stood up and handed the luggage to her.

Sandra wasn’t sure if Aimee was just playing with her or seriously trying to tell her that the Fantasy Stranger was a third man. She didn’t really believe that, though, because he just felt too … familiar. Even the first time, it had been as if her body knew him, though since it was the first time she’d made love in more than a year, her reeling senses had been in too tumultuous a state to really know what was real and imagined.

She hopped out of the boat and followed Aimee as she dragged the cooler, with the luggage atop, to the car.

But that familiarity, that sense of knowing him, had her pretty convinced it was James, even though when he was her Fantasy Stranger, his cock seemed bigger. More like Craig’s. But that really could be a trick of her mind.

*   *   *

Sandra tossed and turned that night, thoughts of her Fantasy Stranger filling her mind.

All the fantastic sex she’d had with James and Craig—being captured by Craig, overpowered by him, sandwiched between both men—should have given her enough fantasies to fill her mind with wonder. But her thoughts kept wandering back to being in the arms of her Fantasy Stranger. She longed to feel the tenderness of his touch again. To feel his lips brush against her neck. To feel his arms around her, holding her tight to his solid body.

She ached for him.

Finally, she fell asleep, and dreamed of him. Hot … steamy … intense dreams. He touched her with a gentle passion that stirred her soul. His body joined with hers, filling her with intense desire. He made her feel cherished and … loved.

As he moved inside her, heat built within her … then exploded in exultant waves of bliss. She awoke in the throes of a powerful orgasm that washed through her body as she shuddered in ecstasy.

As she lay gasping on the bed, memories of his body pressed tight to hers still quivering through her brain, she realized she had to get over this fantasy.

She needed to stay grounded in reality. The whole problem with her marriage had been that she’d gotten lost in the fantasy of love and happily-ever-after. It’s not that she didn’t believe in those things, but they should be based on fact. On real feelings, for a real man.

And her Fantasy Stranger wasn’t real. These strong feelings she had were probably just a result of the mask heightening her other senses, making things feel more intimate. The feelings she had for the Fantasy Stranger were no more real than the love she’d thought she’d felt for her ex-husband.

As long as she kept that in perspective, everything would be fine.

And the best way to do that would be to focus on a real man.

*   *   *

Sandra glanced at Aimee over her sandwich. “Remember our conversation about Devlin last week? How he’s resisting starting up something with me?”

“You mean, how he’s resisting your feminine wiles and how you’d really like to totally submit to him?” Aimee grinned. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Okay, well … Do you think I’d be a really bad person if I … you know, sort of seduced him into it?”

Aimee’s gaze locked with hers and she smiled broadly. “Not at all. I think it would be brilliant.”

“Even though he told me he didn’t want to endanger our friendship?”

Aimee shrugged. “Look, you have one opinion about this, he has another. There’s nothing wrong with trying to convince a person to change his mind, right?”

Sandra smiled. “That’s what I was thinking.” She sipped her drink. “I’d need your help.”

“You’ve got it. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, first … You have a key to Devlin’s apartment, right?”

*   *   *

On Friday evening, as the setting sun cast the clouds a deep orange against the backdrop of a rich blue sky, Devlin walked toward the front door of his apartment building. His cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Aimee.”

“Hey, there. What’s up?”

“Are you on your way home?”

He turned his key in the lock and pushed open the front door, then stepped from the warm outside air into the air-conditioned lobby.

“Yeah, I just stepped inside. Why?” He strode to the elevator and pushed the call button. The elevator on the right opened immediately and he stepped inside.

“Well, I left a surprise in your apartment. I wanted to make sure you found it.”

He and Aimee had exchanged keys quite a while ago, for emergencies and to take care of each other’s places when one of them went on vacations or business trips. Plants, mail, that kind of thing.

“A surprise? But it’s not my birthday. What’s up?” He stepped off the elevator and headed toward his apartment.

“You’ll see. Just make sure you go right up. Okay?”

“Sure. Do you want me to call you after I find out what it is?” He stopped outside his door and reached into his pocket for his keys.

Aimee giggled. “Um … no, that’s okay. Later will be fine.” Then she hung up.

Devlin had no idea what that was all about.

Curious, he opened the door and glanced around. He didn’t see anything in the living room or dining room. He went into the kitchen, but there was no surprise there. Then he spotted a note on the fridge held by a round blue magnet.

Look in the bedroom.

Devlin walked down the hall and stopped outside his bedroom. The door was closed. He hadn’t left it that way. He turned the knob and pushed open the door, then peered inside.

His gaze darted immediately to the bed.

Sandra.

His heart raced.

Naked.

He sucked in a lungful of air.

And tied up.