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Many thanks to friend and reader Eric_Shift for his valuable suggestions with some of the dialog in this story.
Athena bounded up the path from the sea caves, leaping the old steps two and three at a time, scattering kaleidoscopic clouds of birds and bugs. Her muscles burned as she pushed herself harder in anticipation of reaching the crest of the ridge. That’s where the lush emerald tunnel that crowded the trail since it turned inland from the coast gave way to the sun, the breeze and panoramic views of the whole island. From there it was a mostly level jog along the snaky trail as it followed the knife edged ridge to the cliffs. At the end of the trail there were old naval gun emplacements at the bottom of another set of cracked concrete steps some doomed Japanese soldiers had built a distant age ago. She knew the path so well she could run it in the dark. Sometimes she did.
She broke from the trees and was in the sun again. Athena kept running; muscles stretching, lungs heaving, skin perspiring, mind focused only on her next few footfalls. As usual she ran barefoot, wearing a headband and a sports bra. She wore nothing else.
She loved to jog along her jungle trails in the nude but, unfortunately, her breasts had developed to a point where that was no longer practical. She resented the large, teardrop shaped mounds that stood out from her chest and awkwardly bounced and swayed with every movement. She especially hated the way they collected sweat underneath when she slouched in a chair to read or bent forward to pick through the streams and tidal pools. Ingrid had laughed at her annoyance. She confidently predicted Athena would one day be glad to have such a “spectacular pair of ta-tas”. But when pressed for details, the stout German matron would only grin and say, “You’ll see Boo-boo.” Athena had not been convinced. However, when she noticed how her rapidly transforming body evoked so much distress in her father, she realized perhaps there was power in those ridiculous mounds after all.
Irritating her father and the flunkies he’d employed as her keepers had become something of a hobby for her. Bored and lonely, she lashed out at any convenient target. So when she saw the growing distress in her father’s eyes when confronted with her increasingly adult body, she knew she’d finally found her perfect weapon. She became a nudist. Max, her bodyguard, and her father fussed and yelled, but they found that, after having already taken her freedom from her, they had left themselves no effective punishment.
So, a nudist-of-spite she remained. Max and her other handlers had finally stopped even trying to get her to clothe herself unless her father was around. And he was around precious little. He had left this morning, in fact. He’d only stayed three days, enough time to wish her happy birthday and introduce her to her latest voluptuous “step-mom” before flying away again to be absent for months and month.
Her irritation and hopelessness spurred her into a sprint. The effort cleared her mind and soothed her simmering anger. It occurred to her she hadn’t heard the helicopter return. Max wasn’t back yet. Good, she thought. In her opinion it was ridiculous to have a bodyguard on this boring little island. Max struggled to justify his position as though a regimen of unnecessary patrols and lengthy, painful martial arts lessons imposed upon Athena several times a week. All that was bad enough, but to Athena his presence was yet another reminder that her father had deemed her too valuable to be free.
And so she ran; nearly naked; from one end of the island to the other; day after day after day; beautiful, sleek and a little crazy – a she-tiger in raised in too small a cage.
She now loped easily along the more or less level trail that snaked along the spine of the heights. She looked off to her left at the white, loosely clustered buildings of the failed resort her father had bought and converted to serve as her spacious prison. She scanned the usual view: the azure lagoon; the northern valley cloaked in emerald jungle; the rocky hills wreathed in blue mist. But when she looked ahead she saw the short, stout form of Ingrid standing at the junction of the trail back to the cabins. Something was wrong. Ingrid’s damp, florid face registered sadness. She raised a hand and called to Athena. She was saying something…
Athena never remembered Ingrid telling her that her Father was dead; she only remembered having been told. It was as if the course of her life had suffered a fracture and the crack had left a gap. She only remembered standing at the trail junction, bare-bottomed, sweaty and unsure what to do or how to react while her hefty German matron started walking back to the compound, sadly shaking her head.
Athena felt shock, but she did not feel sadness. Actually, honestly, it was as if her prayers had been answered in every detail. When her father had only promised to “think about it” when she demanded her freedom on her eighteenth birthday, she Kartal Escort had asked God for some horrible things. And – apparently – God had listened. She was free.
The helicopter had killed him, Ingrid had said. It had crashed. Athena remembered Victoria, the latest step-mother. The sadness finally came. She’d actually kind of liked Victoria.
Victoria was a blond, eastern European woman with blue eyes, big boobs, curvy hips and about fifteen more years than Athena. She was exactly the type of short-term step-mother she’d come to expect from her father. But Victoria had been surprisingly different. Unlike the others, Victoria had shown real interest in Athena. They had spoken as equals, like friends, or even sisters. Victoria had even spoken frankly about secret things everyone else had been too scared of her father to discuss. They had spoken of the world beyond the horizon, of boys and men… of sex. After years of being surrounded by the people her Father had hired to raise her, the two days with Victoria had been the nearest Athena had to a friend in half a lifetime.
She paused to get to her knees in a dusty patch of grass. She prayed that Victoria was OK.
Dazed, Athena walked aimlessly. It was hot. She peeled off her top to enjoy the feeling of the sun and wind on her bare body. She drifted down off the ridge, past the old overgrown bunkers and into the trees before she found herself back by the eastern edge of the old resort compound, not too far from her bungalow. She found a hose hooked to a working spigot and rinsed the sweat from her unruly black hair with the cool water. The chill was brief, the air being so warm, but Athena enjoyed it, admiring her own goosepimply skin and pert nipples. She raised a hand to caress them wistfully.
She was suddenly giddy. Good God, she was free at last. The thought of being able to leave this island and finally live her life gave her a thrill. Cupping her left breast in her hand, she drew her fingertips down her belly and flicked at her public hairs a few times. She thought of the things she wanted to try when she got off this island; things her Father had marooned her here to keep her from. Her finger was just beginning to glide into the damp, tender folds between her thighs when she thought she heard a voice from around the pool house.
She peeked around the corner to see Chin, the old caretaker, walking away while the two handymen watched him go and shrugged at each other. The handymen were Australian, brought in to fix the storm damage from the big cyclone last month. They were younger than the men her Father usually hired; the blond one was perhaps thirty and over six feet tall; the brown-haired one was a little younger and a lot shorter. They were both shirtless, working under a tarp with their tools and the disassembled water filter spread out around them. She had seen them only twice before and both times they had refused to even look at her, no doubt pre-warned by Max to avert their eyes from his charge or else.
Keenly aware of her nudity for the first time in years, her skin was electric with anticipation and a little fear. She stepped from behind the white stucco box of the pool house and began walking towards the handymen. “My handymen,” she reminded herself.
The shorter one noticed her with a wide-eyed double take and nudged his colleague. They both faced her with slack jawed surprise as she walked up naked, her tanned skin glistening with sweat. Her large brown eyes met theirs. The mere fact that they didn’t look away this time sent a tingle through her body.
“We’re, uh… We’re sorry to hear about your dad,” said the taller one, straining to conduct himself coolly.
“Yeah,” added the other one, nodding sympathetically.
“Thank you so much. You’re very kind,” she answered formally.
An awkward pause enveloped them. The tall one shifted nervously from foot to foot while his friend absentmindedly opened and closed a pair of grimy pliers. She noticed how they kept looking down to grab glances at her body, how their eyes had an animal hunger in them when they looked back up to her face. She could feel their barely contained lust wash over her like a physical force. It was intoxicating.
A gush of wind riled the trees all along the valley. The dappled light filtering through the palms around the pool skittered and danced over the small group. Athena felt a sudden lurch of nausea as the guys’ faces seemed to grow washed out and grainy. They appeared to develop harsh black halos in the shifting, strobing sunlight.
“Oh no,” she said weakly, throwing her hands up over her face to shut out the suddenly too intense light as she sagged down in a rush to get to the ground before she blacked out. She hadn’t had a seizure in months. Why now?
The world receded as she rolled onto the flagstones. She was dimly aware of the two handymen buzzing around her, trying to help. She couldn’t focus on their words, but their frantic voices were charged with panic. She pressed Tuzla Escort her forehead to the hard, cool ground fighting fiercely to keep from slipping into a seizure. The coolness soothed her over-agitated mind. The heaviness of thought began to recede a little and she knew she’d won. It had been close.
“Shit miss, please… are you OK?” said one of the men in a nasally voice as he kneeled close by, his head within inches of hers.
“I’m OK. Just give me a second,” she finally said.
“Fuck me dead,” he groaned and sat back on his haunches in relief.
“I about shit meself,” said the other, standing close by.
“Can we get you anything?” said the one now sitting on the ground next to her.
Athena could hear that the wind was still rustling the trees and she dreaded confronting the dancing, disorienting light, but she was feeling suddenly cold and she wanted to get out into the sun. “Can you guys move me out into the sun?” she asked.
There was a pause. “Um… pick you up and move you?”
They fumbled helplessly, trying to figure out the best way to lift a nude, sweaty girl lying face down on the ground. One asked her to roll over and she shifted over to her side, both arms thrown across her clenched-shut eyes. Finally they had her; their arms under her; their strong hands holding her; moving her out into the sun. She ventured a peek and the guys smiled weakly as they laid her down on a white plastic lounge chair.
“What happened there?” asked the taller one.
“I just get these… spells from time to time.”
“Are you OK now?”
“Yes. It’s just that the crazy light under the trees makes me feel woozy sometimes, especially if my mind is working too fast.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got plenty on your mind,” said the short one sitting down on the lounger next to her. He perched on the very edge, hovering close. She could smell his body; a masculine smell. He looked into her eyes with sympathy but as she held his gaze she could feel a coarse brutishness roiling behind his mask of concern.
“I was just thinking how there is so much I’ve missed, being stuck out here,” she said. She was feeling their lust again. She looked up at the tall one, who was still standing over her. She caught him staring down at the patch of fuzz between her legs. He looked away quickly, catching her eye with a look of embarrassment; but again, deep within, the look of desire.
“I bet you can’t wait to get started with your life, huh?” asked the tall one. His question was heavy with the hint of a possible new beginning; here, now.
For several long seconds Athena looked up at him without answering. His eyebrow arched slightly. She knew what he was asking, but she was at a loss on how to answer. The complicated dance of hint and nuance was all too new to her. She had no experience in dealing with men, with their desires and propositions. She stood on the threshold of a new life and was discovering that there was a new language, a language of seduction, in which she had no grounding. Like all unprepared immigrants newly arrived in a foreign land, she blustered forward as best she could. Before she knew what she was saying she had blurted out, “I want to have sex.”
Stunned, they hesitated. The tall one said, “Are you sure?”
The short one looked daggers at him as if to say, Don’t fuck this up.
With an anxious smile she said, “I think I’m sure. But, one at a time, OK? This is my first time.”
Both men paused, unable to believe this was real. They both looked around them, scanning the area, as if to detect a trick. When they faced Athena again she smiled expectantly at them, reaffirming her request.
“Who…um… Who first?” asked the short one.
“You decide,” she said. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get started before she got scared.
“You got a coin mate?” asked the tall one of the short one.
The short one stood up, fished a coin from his pocket and asked the other if he wanted heads or tails. Athena stood up to watch with a sense of unreality as the coin popped up into the air, sailed end over end and landed face up. The short handyman pumped his fist into the air in celebration as he won her virginity.
He took her hand and looked into her eyes. She smiled weakly; suddenly nervous. He leaned in to kiss her and met her lips with a few delicate kisses before his lips parted and his tongue probed lightly into her mouth. She felt his hands find her body and draw her to him. Her nipples brushed the hair of his chest as his hands firmly pressed the small of her back. She eagerly followed his lead; pushing back with her tongue, pressing her breasts into him. His palms ran along the curve of her bottom as his hips met hers. She felt his manhood swell within his khaki pants as the firmness pushed against her. Desire flooded her, overwhelmed her. She ached for him to enter her.
“Please take me,” she gasped.
“Yeah. But before I do, I’m gonna make you come.”
He Anadolu Yakası Escort eased her back onto the lounger and put his hands on her knees. Gently he spread her legs, his eyes watching her glistening sex as it opened for him. The other handyman stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. “Fuck me; would you look at that,” he rasped.
Athena was ready: so ready. The appreciative stares of the men, the way they seemed to hungrily drink in her body with their eyes, was driving her wild. She discovered the thrill of being wanted. She wanted them in return.
The short handyman lowered himself to his knees. Yes, she thought. Do it now. Athena looked down the length of her body at him. He didn’t seem positioned right, like he had knelt a little too far away. She also noticed his pants were still on. He began bending towards her, his face dropping down between her thighs. She trembled in surprise when she realized what he was going to do. The idea of someone putting their face down there, into the smell, into the slime, was shocking to her, revolting even. But then his mouth was on her, his lips and tongue playing up and down the creases of her vulva, probing into her, circling and flicking her clitoris, lapping up her juices.
The pleasure shot through her like a shock. It was so much more intense than when she touched herself. She was panting and moaning uncontrollably, clutching the sides of the lounger as she pushed her mound up to meet his mouth. She opened her eyes and saw the tall one sitting on a neighboring lounger, stoking his penis — so that’s what one looks like – as he watched his friend eagerly feast on her pussy. It was all too much. Her body tightened. She reached down to grasp the hair on the head between her thighs; thrashing and groaning as the orgasm took control of her.
She was still fighting to catch her breath as he got up off his knees and let his pants fall to the ground. His penis was hard and stood out and up at a sharp angle. He sat between her legs with his firm manhood resting on her damp mat of pubic hair. She looked up at him with feral eyes. He looked down at her with a wet, sloppy grin.
“You ready Luv?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”
“It hurts the first time. But it gets better,” he warned her as he shifted his pelvis back and began to feed himself into her. She felt him enter her. He was going slowly. It felt so right, like a missing piece she hadn’t even known she was lacking. His progress met resistance within her. With a slight pull back and a steady push he broke through. She squirmed at the sharp bite of pain within her. And then he was all the way in. It hurt.
“Oh,” he gasped and went rigid. “Shit,” he groaned as he bent over her, twitching and convulsing. The fullness of him in her seemed to subside. Then he was still.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him, worried she’d made a mistake.
“I’m sorry, I came.”
Athena was confused. That was it? She was expecting something monumental. She looked over at the taller, older handyman, but he wasn’t looking at her. Following his gaze she saw he was looking at his friend, who was standing up now, his deflated penis wet with oily white slime and pink streaks of her maiden blood.
“Move over mate, my turn,” said the tall one.
He took his place between her legs and easily slid his cock into her wet hole. He was considerably thicker. She gasped as it pushed past her shattered virginity and filled her completely. She shuddered with new kinds of pleasure as he began to move inside her. Even the lingering pain from her broken maidenhead gave her a kind of weird arousal. She matched the rhythm of his long slow pumps into her, grinding her pelvis to meet his thrusts. As he thrust into her he lowered his face to her bosom, running his lips and tongue over, under and between her breasts. She groaned loudly — it felt so good- and arched her back, pushing her chest up to meet his attention. His teeth found her nipples; pinching, pulling, grinding; pushing her closer to another climax with the pleasure/pain of his assault on her body.
But then he stopped.
“We need to change up or I’m gonna blow.”
“What do you want me to do?” she panted. She wished he hadn’t stopped; she had been so close to another climax.
“Let me lay on me back. You get on top,” he said.
The idea intrigued her. She swung her legs to the side and stood to let him take position face up on the lounger. She smiled at her previous partner who sat close at by, his hand massaging his reawakening phallus. He took the opportunity to lean in and kiss and nip at her ass before she swung her leg over his friend’s reclining body.
She lowered herself to meet his stiff tool. Taking it in hand she took the opportunity to admire the strangeness of it; of its inner rigidity, its outer softness. She guided it to the soggy lips of her pussy, sliding the head over her clit, down the crevice of her sex to her eager orifice. She sighed as she lowered herself onto the shaft. In control now, she began riding it, shifting her position slightly this way and that until she was hitting her sweet spot on every stroke. He sat up so his face met her bouncing, swaying tits. Taking a nipple in his mouth he bit lightly, tugging at her with his teeth.
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