South Beach-Part 1

Miami’s native son had returned to the land of hurricanes. I, little ol’ Lieutenant Ryan Wolf of the United States Naval Air Force, parked my rent-a-wreck and fed the legalized robbery meter; the hungry parking meter devoured quarters as fast as I could feed it, satisfied that it enough been fed enough I headed off for sandy beach.

I saw all sorts of sights as I strolled down Ocean Boulevard. A woman wearing a jet black attire blew by me on her roller blades; her short black skirt was too tight for her to maneuver and nearly plowed into a group of people.

A salt and pepper bearded man had a green macaw perched on his shoulder; he was feeding it peanuts as he took his lazy stroll down the side walk of the awakening street.

I stepped off the sidewalk and onto the sandy trail that led to the beach; once there I saw all sorts of sights that made the others pale in comparison, some I liked, and others I wished I hadn’t witnessed.

Like the 80 year old man strutting down the beach as proud as a peacock; the smug elderly man wore, well, that’s putting it loosely, a tiny piece of fabric in front of his privates; a dental floss bottom held it in place as he marched by grinning away as the world could see his pasty white butt. The older women shook their heads in shame as most of the younger ones snickered and giggled as he walked by. A couple of them fumbled for their cameras and snapped off a few pictures.

I watched him walk by; I was a nauseated Wolf, impervious to sea sickness, fought back the tremendous urge to want to toss my sinfully delicious donuts that I had just eaten. The urge got worse as I saw several topless middle aged women; the urge dissipated as I gazed over to a pair of young college girls. They cutely smiled at me and waved their fingers; one of the girls reached behind her and unhooked her bra, exposing her modest chest. I waved back and walked down the beach.

My problems were a distant memory as I walked down the beach; I was quite thankful that nobody knew who I was as well as not running into anybody I knew. A laughing gull flew over me; I watched it fly away in the warm tropical breeze.

Suddenly I heard a soft voice purr, “Hey flyboy!”

I stopped, turned around and removed my aviator sunglasses; the Wolf saw a lovely woman standing next to a coconut tree. She placed her index finger on her luscious ruby red lips and hiked her denim short shorts, giving him a breath taking view of her left cheek. “Hello Lieutenant Wolf.”

“Hello Lieutenant Pezzini,” I smiled as I walked over to her.

“Fancy meeting you here in Miami,” she stated unzipping her denim shorts.

She bent over pulling them down as I hungrily replied, “Miami’s my hometown, Sara.”

Sara handed me her shorts as she replied, “I didn’t know that,” and pulled her white tank top off, revealing a slinky silvery grey bikini bra. The off duty police officer bent over, giving me a breath taking view of her more than ample cleavage as she picked up a beach towel; she stood up, turned around and gave me another breath taking view, but this time it was her firm buttocks, she was wearing a thong. I nearly passed out as she bent over putting the towel in place.

She sat down upon the towel and I became the envy of every man on the South Beach as she reached behind her and unclipped her bra. She took a long sexy stretch and smiled, “Ryan, you can sit by me. I haven’t had the cooties in years,” as she reached inside her bad and pulled out a bottle of tanning oil.

I sported a mile wide smile, for a very naughty thought invaded my mind as I gazed upon her near naked goddess body as I sat next to her. “Mind if I oiled the hard to reach places?”

Sara immediately rolled over and pulled up her hair; she rested her head on her folded arms as I poured the oil on her back. “Mmm,” she purred, “Feels good.”

I started to rub the oil into her fair skin; I was startled to realize how tense her upper back was. “Sara, your back is like a 2 X 4,” I declared and did something I didn’t want to do. I straddled her waist and used my thumbs to soften her Kevlar back.

“Oh God, Ryan,” Sara moaned as I continued to work on her back. She closed her eyes and licked her lips and continued, “Don’t stop!”

“Been under a lot of stress…”

“That’s why I’m here, mmm, don’t stop,” Sara purred.

My hands worked out a few knots that were found, Sara momentarily tensed up, but relaxed after they were loosened. I placed my hands on her hips and slid down a tad; getting an eyeful of her ass. I closed my eyes and put my head up; I quickly said a prayer for I knew I wouldn’t make it at this rate.

I liberally poured oil over her derriere; I didn’t want it to get sunburn, would you?

Sara moaned and buried her head in her in folded arms as she lowly moaned, “Oh God, Ryan.”

I was beginning to wonder if Sara were trying to seduce me; it was almost as if she were rubbing her rear against my hand as I rubbed the dark oil into her soft bubbly skin. I asked a stupid question to try and get my mind off of massaging one of the most tantalizing butt cleavage I’ve seen in quite sometime, “Want to go out for dinner?”

“Ever been to Joe’s Stone Crabs?” Sara asked as picked her head up.

Now what kind of silly question was that to ask me? I lived in Miami all my life, except for the last nine of ten years I spent serving in the Navy; then I try to spend all the time I can on leave. I put my head down and embarrassedly replied, “No.”

Sara burst out in laughter and rolled over onto her side, which was quite-stimulating; she placed her soft hand on my red cheek and smiled, “Ah, my poor Ryan,” and in the next breath she said, “Take off your shirt.”

“Huh?”

“I said, take off your shirt and turn around,” she repeated as she rose to her knees.

“Sure,” I answered shrugging my shoulders and took off my Miami Dolphin shirt; as soon as I did it Sara was the envy of all the ladies on South Beach. Pez knelt behind me and used me as a human shield.

“Move up a little bit,” she politely asked as her hand rested on my shoulder.

I scooted a few inches up and felt Sara’s knees resting against the small of my back. “Perfect,” she purred.

I glanced behind me, “What are you doing?

“None of your business,” she curtly replied.

“You’re oiling your breasts, aren’t ya?”

Sara leaned over and rested her chin on my lap and fired a warning right across my bow, “Shut up or you won’t be getting inside my thong.

OKAY! I’m shutting up! Some people just can’t do it when they’re asked, not me! I shut up when people tell me to shut up, that’s right! Do you actually think I’d continue to babble away after being told that? No sir! I shut my big fat stinking mouth and didn’t say a single syllable until Sara instructed me to!

“What do you think?” she purred in my ear and wrapped her soft inviting arms around me; her soft warm oily happy hands explored my chest and abs as her well lubricated chest rested against my back.

In one complete motion I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and took the biggest breath I had ever taken as Sara performed her titillating maneuver. My heart was pounding as my head started to spin, “Sara!” I lowly moaned.

“Yes,” she giggled in my ear.

“Please stop before we embarrass the Navy and NYPD by being arrested.”

“I’ve been kicked off the force before,” Sara replied longing in my ear as her playful hands ran up and down my rib cage. She changed tones and giggled, “Okay, flyboy, you win.”

TBC...