Portia Da Costa
Power of Three
ACT ONE
The binoculars were supposed to be for observing birds and boats, and dolphins off the coast of the island. That was the plan, do something worthwhile and improving with the honeymoon that never was, and broaden her horizons with a bit of nature study and general educational wholesomeness.
Yeah, right. So what do I end up doing?
Laurie Jones lifted the binoculars to her eyes and scanned the courtyard. Observing, yes, she was certainly doing that; but it wasn't really nature study unless you counted scrutinizing the mating habits of mammals of the higher, more civilized variety.
Well, semi civilized.
In the villa across the courtyard from hers, a woman was getting it on. She was getting it on big time, and not just with one man, but with two. Right there in the middle of a fully lit living room.
Of course, people were expected to have sex here, and lots of it. It was a lovers' resort after all. But exhibition threesomes? Well, why not? At least the trio over there seemed to have some genuine affection for each other in and amongst the rampant shagging. They were open and honest and they smiled a lot.
Honest. Yes. Not like some I could mention. Laurie frowned, and the beauty of the night was suddenly shadowed. A claw of anguish clutched at her heart.
Stop it! Not now! Focus on the show. It's far too raunchy to waste good viewing time on brooding.
Adjusting the bevel on the field glasses, she refocused to allow for moisture in her eyes. The three friends had left the shutters to their cabana open, and all their lamps were lit. It was like a film set down there and the cavorting trio clearly wanted to be watched and admired in action.
What would it be like to be made love to by two men at once? The guys in Cabana Number Two weren't really her type, but they did look incredibly lusty. Not that she knew what her type was now. She'd had a type and it'd turned out to be a disaster, and even here she was still plainly fancying the wrong people. Flicking a quick glance to Cabana Number Three, she sighed and shook her head.
You're an idiot, Laurie. A complete idiot. Those two are gay, you fool.
In the true spirit of a Caribbean holiday, and as if to compound her poor decision making, she was currently attempting to drink a large, rum based cocktail at the same time as she watched her neighbors shagging. No easy feat whilst juggling the binoculars, and a bit of the potent over-proof and fruit mix dribbled down her chin. She swiped at it with the inside of her wrist whilst still clutching her glass and nearly deposited the whole lot down her cleavage.
The three in Cabana Two were still going at it hammer and tongs, and though the ferocious island spirit warmed Laurie's belly as it slid down into her innards, it didn't heat her up half as much as what she was seeing with her grandstand view. Cabana One — her cabana — was set slightly higher than the one she was looking into, and both were part of a group of three hugging a little hollow containing a courtyard with a sun patio and a shared swimming pool. Laurie could look straight down at the frolicsome threesome, perfectly safe lurking behind her rolled back shutters. Their main room, glowingly lit, was like a stage.
The two men's hands travelled greedily over their inamorata's body, and also, now and again, over each other's.
Oh God, that's even hotter!
Shutting her mind to the reason she was here without any man at all, much less two of them, Laurie suppressed a gasp, a shiver of desire surging through her. Lucky Girl down there had a man caressing her breasts and another caressing her pussy, and Laurie had to somehow manage to take care of herself whilst juggling the binoculars and her glass.
The drink would have to go. She set it on a ledge to one side of her, and then wiggled to settle herself more securely on her stool. Without taking her eyes from the cavorting trio, she nudged her wrap skirt aside and went for her sex, working blindly. She couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from the action for a microsecond.
As she touched herself, a cringingly unwanted thought occurred to her.
What would Jim think of her now? Her nearly husband, the last man who'd touched her intimately and the one who might have been here with her now, enjoying sex in the sun, if life had played out differently?
The break-up had been amicable, just, but at such short notice that Laurie had ended up coming on the honeymoon on her own. Early October in the Caribbean certainly beat hanging around at home, feeling sorry for herself and being talked about at work for being dumped.
Jim certainly wouldn't have been into this, and that was a fact. Jim liked simple straightforward meat and potatoes intercourse; which was obviously the sort he'd been having with someone called Melanie in accounts, a younger woman whom he'd inadvertently got pregnant.
Amicable break up? Who the hell am I kidding? I want to kill the bastard!
If she hadn't been glued to the binoculars, she would have shook her head to free her mind of Jim and Melanie angst. They were history and this was now. And feeling horny and being a voyeur was therapeutic.
God, she was sticky… hot… wet… as voluptuous and syrupy as her luscious rum cocktail. Wiggling a little on her stool, Laurie swirled her own intoxicating cocktail over and around her clit, all the time watching the trio in the other villa, where apparently clit swirling was also on the menu. The grateful recipient was moaning and carrying on alarming, her cries echoing out from the open window, whereas Laurie confined herself to little gasps and stifled squeaks so as not to disturb them and end the show prematurely.
Not that the participants in the floorshow would have noticed if she fell off her stool and shouted profanities at the top of her lungs. They'd just carry on regardless, she was sure of it. The occupants of the other villa in their little enclave might spare Laurie a glance though, and she didn't want to be the supporting act, with the boy/girl/boy there as the headliner.
There were two guys staying in the presently unlit Cabana Three; two very hot men who were both her type, even though each very different. It was just infuriatingly unfortunate that they were completely into each other rather than the women at the resort.
Trust me to fancy the two gay guys! I can't seem to catch a break with men just now.
The commotion below continued, getting noisier. Lucky Girl let out a sharp, high giggle that cut the air, followed by a low, jerky, broken groan that signified something unmistakable.
Oh God, I want that!
The trio was a syncopated machine now, a temporary construct of limbs and torsos working together, rubbing, and writhing. And they were all climaxing.
Dancing in clumsy circles, Laurie rubbed herself furiously. Pinpoint accuracy wasn't necessary, didn't matter. The horny show before her more than compensated for any slapdash fumbling. She wanted to come… but somehow, all of a sudden, she also didn't want to come.
It didn't make sense. What was she saving herself for? She owed herself this pleasure, and she felt horny enough to take it, Jim or no Jim.
Then, even as the gilded bodies flexed hard, going rigid as if they were a single unified being, fingers clutching at one another, they seemed to lose it as one and tumble in a heap, laughing and grabbing at each other as they dropped out of view below the window sill.
Laurie giggled too, she couldn't help it. The binoculars swung on their strap as she came at the same time, despite her hesitation. It was just a little climax, almost stolen, a sharp, delicious hiccup of sensation in her pussy, a swift erotic sneeze between her thighs. It was as funny as it was pleasurable and she kept on laughing as her sex fluttered, hot and wet.
'What?'
Even as she leant against the window frame, shaking, a movement to the left caught her eye. Snapping around to face the other, closer cabana, she gasped as a low, yellow lamp came on inside it.
