Chapter 8: Salty Island Seductions
The speedboat cut through the Atlantic like a silver blade,
its engine humming over the waves. Sarah stood at the bow, wind tousling her
blonde hair, the sun gleaming off her bronzed skin. Her white bikini clung to
her like a second skin — barely there, dangerously low-cut, her curves glowing.
Michelle sat beside her, wearing a deep teal two-piece that
left little to the imagination. Ciara and Ellen were stretched out on sun
loungers, already sipping something fruity with rum, and every time Ciara
adjusted her top, it threatened to break under pressure.
Mr. Salty stood at the helm, steering the boat shirtless,
his torso a vision of shredded perfection — abs like cobblestones, arms
sculpted, veins bulging with the kind of power that made every woman aboard
bite their lip.
“I didn’t think Ireland had tropical islands,” Ellen
murmured.
Salty smirked. “Most people don’t. But this one’s mine.
Welcome to Salty Island.”
The moment they docked, they were greeted by sandy shores,
swaying palm trees imported just for the aesthetic, and a villa that looked
straight out of a luxury fantasy. Open-plan, full of silk sheets, hot tubs,
mirrored ceilings, and a bar stocked to the heavens.
As soon as the girls stepped onto the private pier,
something shifted.
Michelle whispered to Sarah, “This is the kind of place you
lose your inhibitions… and your panties.”
“Who says I’m wearing any?” Sarah grinned.
That night, under a velvet sky, the stars witnessed a scene
so sensual it would make the moon blush.
The open-air living space turned into a stage of slow
seduction. Sarah and Michelle shared the first kiss — soft, tender, then
hungry. Hands roamed, lips parted. Ellen joined them, her touch featherlight
and her kisses deep. Ciara brought the heat, grabbing Michelle by the waist and
pulling her into a wild kiss that drew a chorus of gasps.
Salty, watching from the lounge chair, ran a hand down his
abs, his pulse racing. “You ladies trying to kill me?”
“No,” Ciara said, approaching him slowly, her swimsuit
half-unzipped. “We’re trying to worship you.”
They gathered around him, all curves, sweat, and desire. One
by one, they kissed his neck, his chest, his stomach, teasing him, whispering
filth and sweetness. Sarah climbed into his lap, straddling him with practiced
ease.
“You’ve fed us, spoiled us, teased us,” she whispered,
grinding against him. “Now it’s your turn.”
Michelle slipped behind him, kissing down his back. Ellen
and Ciara knelt before him, untying his shorts with a slow, synchronized
seduction.
What followed was hours of pleasure — hot skin on hot skin,
kisses exchanged between every combination imaginable. The villa echoed with
breathy moans, laughter, and cries of pleasure that danced with the sea breeze.
Sarah’s body arched with every thrust, her fingers digging
into his shoulders as she screamed his name into the night.
Michelle rode him next, with Ciara kissing her neck and
Ellen watching with fire in her eyes. Salty kept going, endlessly passionate,
taking his time, giving every woman her moment — then bringing them all
together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and bliss.
By sunrise, they were all sprawled across silk sheets, the
waves crashing in the distance. Bodies intertwined, completely exhausted but
utterly satisfied.
Salty lay in the middle, bruised in the best ways, his arms
around Sarah and Michelle, with Ciara and Ellen curled up nearby.
“I don’t think we can ever go back to normal life after
this,” Ellen murmured.
Sarah laughed softly, her hand stroking his chest. “Good
thing nothing about our lives is normal anymore.”
#SaltyIsland #TropicalHeat #ShreddedSalty #BustyAndBold
#FiveInBed #KissAndRide #TooHotForMainland #SteamySilkSheets #IslandOrgyGoals
#SaltyGoesDeep
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