Author, Emilia Mancini is here with the story behind this image.
Warning: This musing contains explicit content not suitable for viewers under 18 years of age. If this describes you, please move along.
Oh, god. Not again.
Sara had no idea how she always manage to do this. She’d love to blame the alcohol but the truth is she really hadn’t had that much to drink. It could have been the sun.
She’d spent the better part of the afternoon lounging on the deck of…what’s his name’s yacht. He’d told her his name when he’d invited her to join his party but she couldn’t remember.
But the reality, the horrible truth, is she just likes sex. A lot. And even though she knows she’s going to wake up with this terrible gut twisting guilt, she can’t say no.
Turning to her head to her right, she let her gaze sweep over the man sleeping there. Short spiky brown hair topped his tanned face which was chiseled to perfection. His chest, ripped and free from a single hair, was exposed. The sheet was pulled tight across his hips and she grinned, clearly remembered the taste of it in her mouth the night before.
Hearing a moan on the other side of her, she rolled her head and her smile widened. This man was dark as chocolate. She couldn’t remember his name, but she felt a thrill roll through her as she recalled his voice. Deep and soft as he coaxed her into climaxing over and over.
She didn’t mean to moan, but it slipped from between her lips. Then the guilt returned. Two men? Two men and she can’t remember either of their names? Had she even asked? Probably not, her mouth had been filled with one dick or the other most of the night.
Oh, yeah. That had been nice.
She felt stirrings deep inside and knew she needed to leave now. Slithering, inch by inch, down the bed, she finally slipped to the floor and found her bathing suit and shorts. She tip-toed into the bathroom, used the toilet, laughed at the evident bite mark one of them had left on her tit, and dressed.
She had nearly made it out of the room, had slipped behind the sheer curtains and onto the deck when she heard that voice.
Her body instantly came to life. Her nipples tightened and her pussy throbbed as they recalled the joys this man had brought to them. She turned to timidly peer around the curtain.
Her dark lover was leaning up on his elbow watching her. “Come back to bed,” he beckoned. “I haven’t had enough of you yet.”
Desire overthrew guilt, longing drown out reason, and she stepped back into the room, more than ready for another round of shameless fucking with these nameless men.
So what does this picture say to you?