It was a beautifully warm Caribbean morning, golden fingers of sunlight piercing through the dissipating cloud cover. I was driving around on the French side of St. Maarten, enjoying the open countryside in my rented jeep, my shoulder length auburn hair blowing with the exhilarating breeze about my bare neck. Since this was the last day of my weeklong vacation, I had decided to go exploring around the island, soaking up some long-lasting memories to take back with me to the States. The sandy beaches I had driven past were shell-strewn and inviting. I had stopped to visit a couple, picking up a few choice shells to bring back with me as souvenirs of my trip, lingering a bit to record in my mind the sounds of the lapping salt water as it played about the smoothed rocks. 

I was enjoying the drive, noting some of the quaint little houses dotting the roadside when I spotted it. Stopping just in front of a small red shack, I got out of my vehicle and walked up the short rocky path to the front entrance. There, next to the hinged, sun-bleached door, was the most beautiful conch shell I had ever seen. I bent down and ran my index finger along its smooth, open interior, marveling at its coolness as it baked in the sunlight. It was a fairly large conch, eggshell white with rounded, brown-flecked points on the outside, the inviting insides blushing ever pinker as it wound into its secret depths. I fought with my conscience. As much as I would have loved to bring back that large shell with me, I knew it belonged to another owner. I looked around. The grounds seemed deserted. No one would see me. But it was wrong! I couldn't take what wasn't mine to have. Could I? I glanced back at the lovely prize in my hands. There were probably many others like this, I reasoned, assuring myself that it was okay, this time – only once. 

As I turned around, with the shell in my hands, my tentative legs starting back down the walkway, I noticed the wind shifting behind my polka-dot sundress. A large, brown hand reached over, grabbing my shoulder firmly. "Where do ya tink yaw goin'?" asked the very tall, muscular, owner of the property. He had to have been close to seven feet high, towering over my five-foot meekness. 

I was at a loss for words. "Umm… I was just, I..." I felt so guilty I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there. I looked up into a pair of steely, dark brown eyes, knowing I was caught. I offered up the shell to the man, realizing how useless it was.
"Yoo peeple, tinking yoo can come here an' jus' take wat yoo want." He stood, looking me up and down, shaking his head. He gave my petite body a shove, causing me to drop the conch into the dirt. "Such a good-lookin' woman, too," he said, shaking his dark curls from side to side. "Yoo peeple jus' don' learn." Grabbing my wrists, he pulled me forcefully to a rough-barked tree near the side of his house. I had no choice but to stumble along beside him, his pull was so strong. He picked up a piece of weather-worn rope with one hand, tying my hands behind me to the tree trunk. His large frame loomed over me, walking silently around the tree, eyeing me from my long hair to my painted toenails. 

"Please, don't," I implored, "I didn't mean –"

"Shhh!" he commanded, sternly. Leaving me tied there, with only the strong sun glaring at my guilt, he walked behind a tool shed. Lumbering back over to where I was, he lifted my chin and gazed into my green eyes. His calloused finger traced a slow path across my jaw line. I trembled with fear, not knowing his intentions, the skin on my neck prickling at his touch. The stranger slowly undid the narrow straps of my dress, which fell around my ankles, revealing the blue bikini I had worn in case I had wanted a swim. I felt his piercing eyes, sizing up my medium-sized breasts and narrow waist to his satisfaction. 

My eyes grew wide as I pulled at my bindings, realizing I was stuck here, at the mercy of this giant. He placed two plump fingers under the elastic of my bottoms and dragged them down to join the dress below. I could feel the heat rising on my face as my cheeks blushed red with shame. A shiver ran up my spine as a light breeze washed over my nakedness. A bunch of long, reedy weeds was torn at their roots by the man's angry hands. He held one end, as he raised up his muscular arm behind him. Whoosh! Down it came through the air with a thwack, against the exposed skin of my upper thighs, the sting of the stems raising red marks on my white flesh. 

I closed my eyes to the assault, unable to face my punisher. Again, the stems rained down upon me, this time across my abdomen, causing me to wince with the shock of it. A tear welled up in my eye. Perhaps this had caused him to reconsider, as I felt his hand lower to my reddened belly to feel its heat. He looked at what he had done to me. My eyes pleaded with him to stop this, promising him I would never again repeat my thoughtless mistake. 

At that moment, I thought I saw a softening of his face. Some of the tension had left it. He knelt down and gently kissed my bare mound. "I'm so sorry, laydee. I jus' get so angry, sum time," he offered me, looking into my frightened eyes. "My place here is small, but it belong to ME. Yoo don' take away a man's dignitee. It is not good. I make yoo betta," he continued. 

And with that he reached down and began to tenderly stroke my pussy, causing it to respond on its own, with a glistening swell. His other hand reached behind me, caressing the smooth skin of my ass. Pretty soon I became lost in sensations, forgetting the previous lashing I had received. My puffy slit was dripping with desire, practically begging for attention. I wriggled as he opened and removed my bikini top, releasing my breasts to his waiting mouth. He sucked in a nipple, prodding and teasing with his tongue and teeth. I couldn't help letting out a pleasurable moan. He knew he had won. My body was under his complete control, to do with as he wished. "Yoo like?" he asked, looking down into my eyes. "Yoo want me more?" I glanced upwards, nodding my wishes, offering my soul to be forgiven. "I no take, if you no give," he promised.

With that, I opened my legs apart, letting him know it was okay. I wanted this. I wanted him. He untied me from the tree and lowered my body easily to the cool grass. I unbuttoned his pants, releasing a monster of a cock, throbbing and ready. I guessed, in a way, this was retribution for my deeds. Feeling below, I knew I was wet enough, but he was so huge! I laid back and felt his large, thick finger test the waters. He inserted a second, and then a third, moving back and forth inside me, opening me wider with every move. My heartbeat thumped in my ears. My breathing was all over the place. The stimulation was intense and building. He slowly lowered himself into my wetness, allowing me to accommodate his size a bit at a time. A burning sensation gave way to a pleasurable stretching. Never had I felt so full. It was incredible!

In and out he pumped, his swinging sac bumping softly against my bottom. I could feel the tension building in every muscle. A hand squeezed my nipple, a finger brushed my clit. The thrusts became more urgent as my body convulsed and I let out a scream. He came just at that moment, grunting and crying out his pleasure.

Withdrawing now, he laid next to me, caressing my shoulder. I had been forgiven. The deed had been done. I kissed his full lips with passion and thanked him. I told him he was a kind man with a gentle soul. I would never forget him. He helped me to dress, and gave me a warm hug. He held me close for many minutes. Then he let me go. 

As I traveled back home, I thought of my adventure – the sounds, the scenery, the scent of that man! I was bringing back memories, some to share, some to keep as my own. Most of all, I kept to myself the lesson learned – the one taught by a wise and loving master. 





Memories
of a Tourist



by



peppercorn







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Tue, 23rd March, 2010





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