(Please check out “Caribbean Coitus”, a prelude of what’s to come.)
The day was Thursday, May 10, 2012. The location: Banana Bay of Saint Kitts.
Some would call me flighty. Other might suggest spontaneous. Then there are those who believe me to be bat-shit crazy (and by “those” I mean my ex-husband). I prefer “interesting”. I like evolution. Anything stagnant bores me. I’m intrigued by the evolution of people and their personalities, the evolution of relationships, and the evolution of my personal sex life. There are always new avenues to explore and I think it’s important to venture away from the norm. Otherwise, how will you ever know if you’re a freak at heart? Like new foods, you may never experience what was meant to be your favorite if you’re unwilling to try in the first place.
The entrance to the beach was through a large open-air bar/restaurant that inspired 5-star feelings. This gem of a location came complete with flawless natural wood, stone and tile detail, and bright pops of color from cushioned hide-away corners. Candle clusters adorned each romantic nook, and glass doors wide open to the ocean allowed a spectacular view from every angle and a mind-blowing breeze that stimulated the senses. The extensive stone patio gave way to deep fire pits and seating, then gradually disappeared into the sand. As I approached Banana Bay, a wave of carnal fervor came over me. The setting was that of an HD screen saver. Peaks of rainforests surrounded a secluded beach; the sun radiated off the water as it twinkled like a fiery topaz. High-end beds, chairs, and umbrellas dotted the sand as if prepared for a perfectly coordinated photo shoot. Ahhh.
Our gang quickly found a spot on the sand. One umbrella, one bar less than 20 feet away, an ocean bay on one side, and a beautifully sculpted lagoon on the other. The palm trees swayed, the water gently caressed the sand, and as I stripped down to my teeny bikini I could think only of how I might take full-advantage of this paradise. As I gazed down at my half-naked partner and his beautiful tanned and toned body, it came to me. I would, as if part of some disgustingly raw and romantic novel, have sex with my hunky lover in this most perfect of scenes. This would be new territory for me (and a great blog post). Up to this point, I had never had sex on a beach…the sand always seemed to pose a bit of a problem, and as one might imagine, beaches are hard to come by in good ole Iowa. I had also never had sex in public. At least not during the day…that I can recall. In addition, the ocean was something I had yet to explore in a sexual context.
I scanned the scene and decided that the ridge and rocks surrounding the lagoon would provide just enough isolation to get the job done. I would wait for the right time.
After a few free frozen drinks from the Italian bar owner, and some sexually charged content from a couple of chapters of “Shades of Grey”, I needed a dip to cool down. My man and I waded into the sea, the soft sand meeting our feet. The deeper the water, the more devious my thoughts. I wrapped my legs around him and I planted a few, and after only a few minutes I could wait no longer. I suggested a quick “snorkel” in the lagoon. Unaware of my plans, he grabbed his gear and rushed into over the rocks and into the water. Lucky for me, he hadn’t gotten far when he realized there wasn’t much to see in this isolated pool. Too deep and too dark. I left my mask on a large rock, and eased into the water. A rock provided some stability and as he met me, I think he knew my intentions. I must have either had a stupid grin on my face, or some sexy and sultry look in my eyes. Probably the stupid grin.
My back pressed hard against a rock he pushed into a passionate kiss (as a romantic novel would mandate). Then a crab joined the party creeping out from between the rocks. I explained that it was a private party and he was not part of my novel-in-the-making, and he respectfully retreated. And the public/beach/ocean/lagoon loving was had. If you’re even the least bit spontaneous, and have experience with sex in the water, you’ll appreciate that it isn’t as easy as the movies would lead you to believe. There can be slippage and sloshing and the sensations can sometimes be lost. However, when you’re being man-handled by a hottie in the middle of an aquamarine lagoon, barely hidden from a public beach, the hot sun beating down on your face, hardly able to contain your moans…it works.
And so the deed was done. Yay for me. I tried the new food and it tasted oh, so good. My sexual evolution continues. The day was Thursday, May 10, 2012. The location: Banana Bay of Saint Kitts. Hit it up and tell the snaggle-toothed Italian Eva sent you.
