A bored twenty-one year old girl is on holiday with her parents, and goes on a coach trip to the caves to enjoy some independence. When she notices a young couple sneaking off the tourist path for some sexy fun, she follows them, and enjoys far more than just independence.

Nine o’clock in the morning is most definitely not a time of day I want to greet when I only crawled into bed a poxy five hours earlier. When I’d signed up to go on an excursion to the caves on the other side of the island, prompted by my mother, it had actually seemed like quite a good idea. That had been in the pleasant, alcohol induced good cheer of the evening before. Waking up to my mum’s insistent knocking on my hotel room door however, with yet another pounding headache and a mouth as dry as sandpaper, despite downing two pints of water before bed in a last minute attempt at damage limitation, it seemed like the worst idea in the world.

I finally dragged myself out of bed after deciding that dozing on a coach would be preferable to the head splitting knocks at the door every two minutes. My mother is nothing if not persistent. After pulling on some khaki shorts and a white vest top over my white bikini – you never know when an opportunity to flake out in the sun may present itself – I raked my fingers through my untamable black curls and donned a pair of huge sunglasses, trying desperately to remember why I had allowed myself to be talked into going on this trip, while my parents were going to lounge around the hotel all day. Something to do with my mum’s bad back and not being able to sit on a coach for that long, I seemed to remember. Maybe they thought that by me going instead of them, they would somehow absorb the experience by osmosis or something.

Now, sitting alone on the coach as it ambled and bumped across the island, with my headphones over my ears and my trusty camera in my lap, I vaguely remembered agreeing to it on the basis that I would finally get a quiet day without being bossed around, and I was actually glad I had come.

The croissants I’d gobbled down in the dining hall, washed down with coffee and yet more water, had fixed my headache, and the beauty of the island with its lush forests, dusty plains, mountainous horizons, and idyllic sandy beaches, had lifted my mood to the point where I felt rather serene. I actually hadn’t slept at all on the coach, after all. Between each of the handful of hotel pickups, I’d been mesmerized by the stunning views. And I’d been playing a game with myself with each new person or group that had joined the tour – Would I or Wouldn’t I?

Yes, I have officially turned into a slag during the last three days, to the point where I am now looking at just about everyone in terms of their shaggability. I blame it on pent up sexual frustration. I think I just need to get laid, and as last night had been fruitless in that department, I would have to keep my eyes and mind open to possibilities.

Hence the game – assessing potential partners for this wild holiday fling I was planning. Of course I drew the line at some people – under eighteens of course and over fifties – well, I might make an exception if they were like, super fit, but for the most part the rule was under fifties only. I smiled to myself as I realised that even that was something I would never have considered before, well, before the dream. Before that I would probably not have even looked at somebody over thirty in a sexual way. Now my mind has been opened to all manner of possibilities.

The no over fifties rule ruled out at least half of the people on the coach, including the driver and the tour guide, leaving only about eight potentials. Of those eight I’d had to conclude I Wouldn’t to the couple in their forties who reminded me way too much of my parents, and their bored looking daughter in her twenties who reminded me way too much of myself. Weird. That left a young couple who had got on at the last pickup from a plush complex of villas far outside of the town and a group of three blokes who looked like they were probably in their thirties.

That might sound promising, granted; the idea of three fellas certainly lent itself to all manner of possibilities, bedroom wise, but in reality they were hardly the stuff of fantasies. I mean, they were alright, I’m sure they were really nice and everything, but they looked kind of geeky, and I suspected that they had come to the caves to actually look at the geological features rather than to enjoy the beautiful scenery. Their notebooks and clipboards put me off too. Not very sexy. Hmmm, I was on the fence about the three men. I would have to watch them more closely throughout the day and draw my conclusion later.

The young couple I debated quite seriously for some time after they took their seats across the aisle from mine. They appeared to be on their honeymoon or something – they were so wrapped up in each other they had barely even glanced out of the window or looked up when the tour guide commentated on our surroundings sporadically throughout the journey, but instead were whispering in each others ears and giggling. I was watching them surreptitiously from the corner of my eye, pretending to fiddle with the camera in my lap. They were both really good looking, in an almost intimidating way, as if they had just stepped off a magazine cover. He was dark and chiseled, in denim shorts and a white t-shirt, and she was blonde and willowy in a long gypsy skirt and a bohemian tasseled shirt.

Would I? Hmmm. Him – yes, most definitely, even though he clearly in a relationship and so the opportunity would never arise. But heck, this is a game. So him – yes.

He nuzzled her neck then and I actually heard her emit a quiet moan and felt myself blush. I looked away, gazing at the mountains surrounding us as the bus climbed and wound its way round a perilously narrow road. Despite the dramatic scenery I found my eyes wandering back towards the beautiful couple after just a few minutes. Was I weird? Was I a voyeur of some sort? I shook my head mentally and went back to my game. I was just entertaining myself, there was nothing wrong with that.

Would I do her? Hmmm. I’m not sure if I fancied it or not, the idea of being with a woman. It would be softer, gentler. The idea was odd, but not unappealing. My body certainly responded favourably to the notion, an electric pang causing my lower abdomen to tighten.

I saw the man’s hand sneak up under her shirt then and I knew he was fondling her breasts. Oh My God – in public! He was touching her boobs in public. Though of course nobody could see them as far as they knew. I felt my body quiver and wished it were my breast he was fondling secretly. I could imagine the feeling of his big hand cupping me, his thumb flicking across my nipple. As this thought flashed through my mind I felt my nipples actually harden in response and another blush flushed my cheeks.

“We are now arriving at the caves, feel free to leave your lunch bags on the coach, we can come and collect those before eating at the picnic area afterwards, but do remember to bring your water bottles with you. It’s a scorcher today.” I found myself feeling both relieved and disappointed as the tour guide’s voice boomed over the microphone. I’d been on the verge of slipping into another delicious fantasy, and had even been wondering if I would be daring enough to perform my own sneaky public sex act and slip a hand down my shorts.

I grabbed my camera and my water bottle, leaving the packed lunch I’d been given by the restaurant on the seat as instructed, and disembarked the coach, avoiding eye contact with the loved up couple, worried that they somehow knew I’d been perving on them. To reach the caves we were going to explore, we had to walk through some woods for about fifteen minutes. I didn’t mind – it was a pleasant walk in the sunshine with plenty of opportunities to snap the trees and wildlife. I paused to capture a particularly pretty scene of sunrays breaking through the green canopy overhead and shining on a bush adorned with huge orchid type flowers, as if spotlighting their exquisite beauty. I turned my camera this way and that, seeking the most interesting angles to frame the colours, the unique play of light and shade through the delicate leaves, the soft peals. I looked up after a while and realised I’d fallen well behind the group. Hanging my camera around my neck again, I quickened my pace through the carpet of leaves, until I could see the crowd up ahead.

As I approached from behind I noticed two people peeling away from the group, into the trees. I kept my head down but looked up through my lashes as I continued towards them down the path. It was the couple. They walked a little further into the trees, giggling and checking back to see if anyone had noticed them sloping away, the woman pulling her man by his hand, then she turned, her back against a tree and pulled him in to her, her hands on his denim clad buttocks, and kissed him deeply. They had obviously thought they were at the back of the group, not realising I was approaching from behind. I tried to catch up with the group without drawing the couple’s attention, but as I passed, they stopped kissing and the woman gave me a cheeky smile, as if to say ‘you caught us’, the man just glancing at me with his cool eyes and then back to his woman again. I looked down to the ground, embarrassed, and hurried ahead to where the rest of the group were now huddled outside the entrance to the caves.

The caves were dark and damp, pretty much as you might expect from caves. They were fairly well lit along the main path, which wound downwards, leading further and further into the innards of the mountain. I’d expected a lengthy safety lecture before we were allowed to get going, but there had been none. I guess health and safety laws here were very different here to back home in the UK. The guide had simply soldiered on, spouting facts and stories as he marched, my fellow tourists bustling along behind him, the over fifties all vying for the positions closest to him, hanging on his every word. The couple that reminded me of my parents were close behind, constantly trying to involve their bored looking daughter into being interested by repeating everything the guide said in overly excited voices, as if that might somehow spark her interest. I smiled to myself, feeling her pain, relieved I was on my own.

I felt a thrill of freedom then, and it struck me not for the first time on this holiday that despite being a grown up now, I still lived very much like a child, looked after and molly-coddled by my parents, with absolutely no plans and no direction in my life. It had to change. It was time for me to grow up and claim my independence. I stood taller just thinking it, feeling suddenly like an independent woman, out exploring alone, an alluring stranger. Behind the middle aged couple and their daughter were the three geeky guys, and I kind of unofficially attached myself to their group, desperate to not appear like a loner, or worse still, some kind of peeping Tom, to the couple who I assumed were either still kissing and groping each other in the woods or walking along the cave path somewhere behind me.

“Hey, I’m Cara,” I offered to the three guys, and they practically fell over themselves in their eagerness to introduce themselves to me. Far from being awkward and geeky like I’d imagined they would be, they were, well, confident and geeky.

“We’re here on a university trip,” Greg explained.

“Not officially though,” added Simon.

“No, it’s kind of extra curricular,” chimed in Daniel, “we’re geology students you see.”

Mental note – am I psychic or was it really just THAT obvious?

“We decided to come here to enhance a project we’re working on, because the layers of sediment found in these very caves are the perfect example of…” Okay, I admit he didn’t just trail off there; there was more to the explanation than that, but my attention kind of lagged. I never was very interested in science. I preferred to appreciate the visual beauty around me, rather than the science or history behind it.

I found myself tuning out of the eager voices of my newfound friends, nodding and smiling to appear interested in the detailed explanations they were giving me about every single aspect and feature of the caves, but entranced instead by the sheer overwhelming beauty around me. I lifted my camera and snapped away, capturing every detail, every stalactite and stalagmite, every interesting shadow cast by the multi-coloured lights that illuminated our way. Every few hundred metres another path snaked off of the main one we were following – always roped off, no access allowed. They fascinated me, those paths. How many were there, winding through the vast mountain? Could you go all the way from one side to the other? I thought about asking my new friends, Daniel, Greg and Simon. I looked up from behind my lens and I realised then that I had once again lagged pretty far behind the crowd. Even the three geeks had given up on me and walked on ahead. Oh shit! What if I got lost? What if they exited a different way to which we’d entered and I got left behind? That sort of shit always happens in thriller films – tourists getting left in the ocean by their diving boat only to be eaten by sharks, or left in the mountains only to be eaten by cave dwelling gargoyles. Okay, so I made that one up, but I quickened my pace anyway – I wanted to be independent, not isolated!

As I walked carefully along the narrow rocky path, my large camera swinging around my neck, I remembered my parents babbling the previous evening that this main path, the one that tourists were allowed on, led to a giant chamber of some sort – a cathedral in the mountain, I think it was described as, which contained an underground pool, a freshwater spring maybe, with some kind of funny feature. Fluorescent blue water or something, some kind of trick of the minerals in the water. It escaped my memory now, though I’m sure my scientist friends would be happy to remind me. That would be pretty cool to photograph. I picked up my pace. Maybe I would start a photography blog, share some of my work after all. Jose seemed to think it was good enough.

As I was scrabbling along the path, trying to catch up with the group and still lost in my thoughts, a noise suddenly caught my attention behind me. I turned and nearly screamed at the sight of two figures a way back up the path, silhouetted against one of the lamps fixed into the wall of the cave. I heard another soft giggle. It wasn’t cave dwelling creatures seeking their next meal, as my crazy imagination had suspected, but the randy couple. As my breathing resumed to normal, they disappeared. I watched for a few moments but there was no sign of them. Huh? Where did they go? Were they okay? Had they fallen on the rocky path and been knocked unconscious? Had they been captured by the cave dwellers and whisked away into a secret cavern where they would be bound and hung upside-down to be consumed for dinner later? Should I go back and check if they were okay? I turned and started walking tentatively back along the path.

The rational part of my mind took over then and remembered the smaller paths leading off from the main ones. Added to the memory of the couple sneaking off into the woods to cop a feel and I realised that I knew exactly what they were doing. Yet my feet were still walking in that direction instead of towards the group, as if they had a mind of their own. I reached the point from which they’d disappeared and it was indeed a junction, where a roped off path snaked away from the main one, the very part I had myself gazed along in wonder. I could hear them around the corner, giggling and whispering quietly. With my back against the rough wall, I edged towards the junction and peeked around the corner. I couldn’t see them, just the narrower path curving out of sight to wards the right, I could definitely hear them though.

“Mmmm, oh that’s good,” came the woman’s voice, in a definite European accent. I gasped a little and closed my eyes, wondering what he was doing to her that felt so good. He groaned in response. “Oh yes, oh touch me there,” she whispered. Where? Goddammit! Where was he touching her? I realised then that I was touching myself, one hand on my camera, the other rubbing my crotch unconsciously, my fingertips massaging my sweet spot.

I had to see what he was doing to her.

I quietly walked around the corner and followed the path, shuffling with my back against the wall, keeping my footsteps soft. The path led to a small opening, like a room inside the cave. There they were against the wall opposite me. It was hard to make them out at first in the tiny amount of light coming from the small passageway in which I was huddled, but as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I could see clearly enough. The man’s back was to me, and even though they were both tall, he was taller, so my view of her was blocked completely, even though I could still hear her moans and sighs. I was more interested in looking at him. His butt. His bare butt. His denim shorts were now around his ankles, and her hands were on his perfectly shaped naked buttocks. His thighs were thick and muscular, the kind of thighs that would have the strength to really fuck a woman good and hard. They were the thighs of some kind of warrior form medieval times. From the movement of his head, I guessed there was a lot of kissing and touching going on.

My hands were inside my shorts now; inside my bikini bottoms even, my fingers stroking my slippery opening. The man sunk to his knees, revealing the woman in front of him, her head thrown back as she continued to murmur her delight, her mouth open wide, her top removed to reveal surprisingly large round breasts for such a small frame. His hand reached up and cupped one of those swinging breasts as his other lifted her long skirt up around her waist and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. His head moved in closer. She grabbed his hair.

“Oh fuck yes baby. Lick it there, oh yes.”

I gyrated against my hand as I watched, my palm rubbing against my nub, imagining it was my clit his tongue was licking, my pussy he was lapping like a thirsty dog. I felt myself moan as I heard the other woman’s moans grow louder.

She looked up then and saw me.

I froze, but she smiled and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him into her further.

“Oh fuck baby that’s good,” she said, never taking her eyes from me,“ put your fingers in.” He did as she ordered, and she moaned louder.

“Harder, harder,” she demanded and I saw her eyes roll back n her head and knew she was about to cum even before she screamed, “I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.”

I was frozen to the spot, I’d removed my hand from my shorts now, feeling awkward knowing she knew I was there. I was horny as fuck but ashamed to have been caught watching. I was going to sneak away quietly, slipping into the shadows the way I had come, but just as I started to back away, the woman looked directly at me and spoke.

“You might as well come and join us instead of watching from over there. Come, join in the fun,” and like some kind of puppet I obeyed. Before I knew what I was doing, my feet were walking slowly but surely across the floor of the cave until I stood before them. The man was standing now, his stonking boner pointing right at me from under his t-shirt. The woman’s skirt was back in place, though she was still topless.

“You like what you see?” The woman asked me, taking her own impressive breasts in her long slender hands and squeezing them. I opened my mouth but nothing came out, I was literally lost for words. I tore my eyes way from her boobs with their huge dark round nipples and looked into her face, into her large green eyes, glistening with amusement.

“Ah, I see,” she smiled, “you prefer my husband right? It’s him you have been watching… fantasizing about?”

I opened my mouth to protest then, but she put a hand on my lip before I could speak. “It’s okay sweetheart,” she said in her accent, which I think was probably some variety of Scandinavian, “don’t be shy. He likes you too. Just look at this, this is proof,” she pointed to his erect penis and I tried not to look but it was impossible to ignore.

“Anyway he told me after you were watching us in the woods. He thinks you’re cute. He wants to know what it’s like to fuck a cute petite girl like you. I bet you’re nice and tight down there aren’t you?” With her free hand she cupped me suddenly between the legs and squeezed, and every nerve ending in the area was immediately flooded with blood, tingling as if being charged, making me moan.

“You like the sound of that huh? You wanna feel my husband’s hard cock inside your tight pussy? I think our girl here wants you as much as you want her, baby,’” she took her finger away from my lip and turned her face towards her husband kissing him loudly and sloppily. I stepped backwards, still feeling an unnerving mixture of turned on and embarrassed as fuck. I turned to leave, deciding this was just taking weird a little too far.

“Don’t go,” the man’s voice called out. It was the first time he’d spoken and I stopped in my tracks. I was surprised to realise he was actually Irish.

“She’s just playing with ya,” he said and the woman giggled as he moved towards me, “we’re not married. We only met two days ago right here on the island. We’re just having some some fun,” he was in front of me now, towering above me.

“She was telling the truth about something though – I do fancy the fuck out of ya. How about it – you up for some fun darlin’?” He reached out a hand and cupped the side of my face and I found myself nodding.

“Yes,” I whispered, “yes I’m up for some fun.” I turned my face up towards his and he leaned down and kissed me, our bodies still not touching, his hand still cupping my face. His kiss was tender in stark contrast with the rough skin of his hand. It was so soft and gentle I felt I should be lying in a bed of feathers, but instead here I was standing in a cold damp cave with a couple of nutters, albeit sexy ones, and I wanted nothing more than to feel something inside me, anything. I pulled away and looked up at the woman, standing off to the side, watching.

“Don’t mind me, you two carry on. I had my fun. My turn to watch now,” she stepped backwards and leaned against the cave wall. Okay, well, if I was going to have an audience I might as well put on a show. I stepped away from the man and lifted my vest top over my head. Then, looking him in the eyes, I reached behind me and unclasped my bikini top, throwing it to the cave floor, standing in just my khaki shorts and trainers now. I could see the man looking me up and down, taking in every detail and I could feel the woman’s eyes on me too. It was surprisingly liberating, to allow myself to be seen, to be sensual, to be desired. I kicked off my trainers and undid the button on my shorts, then slid my shorts and bikini bottoms down in one movement and kicked them to the side, leaving me standing naked in all my tight-toned-curvy glory. I turned slowly in a circle, letting them see my whole body.

The woman wolf whistled. The man just stared open mouthed until I had completed my circle, then he pulled his own t-shirt over his head and threw it to the side so we were both standing naked before each other, looking at each other like gladiators about to fight. I moved first. I practically launched myself at him, driving him backwards against the cave wall, and then smashing my mouth against his in a kiss that was anything but tender. I pushed my body against his, his huge erect cock squashed against my tight stomach as I ran my hands all over him. He kept his hands on my head, his fingers tangled in my hair as if holding himself back touching me, delaying the pleasure. I longed to feel his hands on me, all over me.

Then I felt other hands on me. Softer hands, the woman’s hands, gently touching my hips as she moved her body against me from behind. I could feel that she was naked too, pushing her body up against my back so I was sandwiched between them. Her arms wrapped around me further, her hands slipping down between my thighs, and I gasped, but continued kissing the man as she began rubbing my clit with the fingers of one hand and stroking my wet slit with the other. I reached a hand down by my stomach and wrapped it firmly around the man’s now pulsating cock, stroking it in time with the woman’s movements against my pussy. He groaned into my mouth and finally released his hands from my hair, cupping them around my breasts, flicking my nipples with his thumb just as I’d imagined him doing on the coach.

Holy fuck this was heaven. There were hands and fingers and mouths everywhere.

Oh my God I was going to cum, right there and then. I stopped kissing him and threw my head back as the woman kissed my neck and whispered in my ear’ “you like that? Hmmm. See, you do like women after all. Doesn’t that feel good?” She plunged a finger inside me and I nearly collapsed with pleasure, rubbing harder and harder on the man’s cock.

It did feel good. It felt more than good. I heard a loud moan and realised it was my own.

“Wait,” the man said and stopped fondling my boobs, he pulled the woman’s hands away from my hungry pussy. “I wanna make you cum with my cock inside you. I want you to sit on my cock and ride it like a fucking horse. I wanna look up in your eyes and see the pleasure in them as my cock makes you scream.” Damn, his accent was sexy. I couldn’t talk, I just nodded.

“Fine, but I’m going to help too,” the woman pouted as the man slid to the floor and lay back. She kissed me then, taking me completely by surprise, her soft tongue flitting into my mouth. It was strange, despite the fact her breasts had been mashed up against my back and her fingers inside me, kissing a woman seemed more intimate somehow.

I liked it.

I lifted a hand to her breast and touched it gently, feeling the hardness of her nipple beneath my palm. I ached down below.

“Hey,” the man complained from where he was waiting on the ground, he reached up and grabbed my hand, tugging me towards him.

They were actually fighting over me!

I turned and stood astride him, letting him get a good look up between my spread legs, before lowering myself to my knees so I was sitting astride his firm stomach. I leaned backwards a little, my hands on his thighs, arching my back, feeling his erection hard against the crack of my butt, causing me to remember my experience with the waiter the night before. I groaned as he reached up and squeezed my breasts hard. I leaned forwards then and kissed him, my hands on the cold floor beside him, my knees sore on the cold stone, until I could take it no more. I needed him inside me. I positioned myself so the head of his thick shaft was nuzzling against my opening, then I leaned backwards slightly, reaching a hand around behind me to cup his balls as I lowered myself slowly onto him. I kept going until he was inside me as deeply as he could possibly go, filing me up entirely.

“Oh fuck woman, oh jeez you are tight, you are fucking awesome.”

I started to move myself in small circles on his cock, groaning as every little movement deepened my pleasure. His hands were on my hips, pulling me down as I gyrated on top of him. He was pushing up into me, trying to get it deeper still. I felt the woman’s hands on me again as she straddled the man just behind me, like two naked bareback riders on the same horse. She pulled herself tight against me once again and then her arms were around me, one had cupping a breast, circling my nipple. The other hand flicking my clit, causing me to cry out over and over.

I needed to fuck him then and started to slide up and down on him, slamming myself onto his cock harder and harder as he lifted his hips to meet me with each stroke, my breasts jiggling up and down as I bounced on top of him. I felt myself nearing climax and the woman’s finger pushed harder on my clit. I was gone then, lost, screaming out as with one final slam onto his cock my orgasm washed over me, all the muscles in my pussy tightening deliciously, throbbing, as my thighs tightened around him.

“Man, that was hard to hold myself off. You feel so fucking amazing,” he said, his voice a growl, and in one easy movement he had lifted me off of him, sat himself up, and come around behind me, pushing me forward onto all fours. Then he was inside me again, pumping into me, a man possessed – possessed with sheer lust, sheer desperation, sheer animal need, I arched my back and pushed back against him as he continued to slam into me, his balls slapping against my clit with each stroke. His hands were on my hips, pulling me onto him as he pushed inside me harder and harder. Then the woman was sitting crossed legged in front of me then as he fucked me from behind. She kissed me. Animal fucking from behind, gentle feminine kissing in front. It was a confusing, delightful, experience in contrast and I was loving every minute of it. I kissed her back, tangling my tongue with hers and then I reached my hand down between her legs. I had never touched a woman there before, but I intuitively knew what to do. After all, I’ve done it to myself plenty of times. As he fucked me from behind, his pulsating cock sliding in and out, in and out, I finger fucked the woman in time to his movements. She moaned, moving her body against my fingers and I felt her kissing become more fervent as she wrapped tangled her hands in my hair.

I knew she was going to cum, I felt her movements speed up, so I moved my fingers faster in and out of her juicy pussy, using my thumb to put pressure on her clit. The man’s movement’s got even faster then, even harder, and he reached round a hand to massage my clit too. It was all too much. Too fucking much. I was cumming again suddenly with no warning at all and so was she, and so was he, all three of us screaming out and writhing against each other until we were spent.

 

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