24 Hours Ch. 01

This is my story. It's a narrative of love and lust on vacation in the Caribbean, and it's mostly true. The locations are very real but to protect the innocent, and the not so, the names have been changed, but you know who you are! This is not really a swinger's story, more of two couples meeting up on the beach by accident and returning home with each other's partner, and with a lot of horny interludes in between. If you are squeamish about total uninhibited sexual pleasure between consenting adults and the erotic language that goes with it, then go read Harry Potter. Otherwise, do please read on, and enjoy. If all holidays were like this one, the world would be a far happier place. For ease of reading I have divided this story into 5 parts.

24 HOURS - PART ONE – The Librarian

"I would never guess where you're going on holiday Mr Graham." She spoke softly with a faint Irish accent as she passed me my books.

Although the librarian was not the most unattractive woman I had seen that day, she wore glasses, her ginger hair was tied tightly with a black comb into a bun, and she wore a frumpy dark brown dress topped off by a loose maroon sweater. A simple work badge above her left breast declared her given name to be Lesilia – Head of Antique Books. The room was dimly lit and totally lacking in atmosphere, so she seemed to blend into her surroundings perfectly.

What I did next was, at the time, beyond my comprehension. Perhaps it was the alcohol consumed at lunchtime, or had I sensed some deeply hidden sexuality within this female? More likely it was just the sheer pent up frustration of the last few weeks, and that any woman looked fanciable that afternoon! Who would have guessed that within four weeks of entering the antiquarian book department of The British Library that Wednesday afternoon I would be making love with one of its librarians on a moonlit tropical beach!

A few weeks prior to this my American girlfriend Lisa had finally deserted me in favour of an apparently longer appendage, taking with her our jointly owned Apple laptop, plus all the photos and videos we had made together, most of them extremely personal and highly sexual. As a Christmas present she had, through her employers Virgin Atlantic, booked and paid for a Caribbean holiday together, and this very lunchtime had met up with me and agreed that if she could hold on to the computer, I could then keep the holiday tickets, which arrangement eventually proved out to be a very fair exchange indeed. I was also secretly pleased that with the laptop she was taking with her an erotic souvenir of our past year together. We had been wonderful in bed together, but distance apart was the inevitable downfall of our relationship.

The first thought that crossed my mind after we finally parted was that I now needed to find another female to fill her seat on the plane, and of course the holiday bed. The thought of the lack of female company on a tropical vacation for the second time in as many years was unacceptable, especially since Lisa and I had experienced sex just about everywhere except on a beach. From bitter experience one did not pick up single girls in the Caribbean, at least not the sort that didn't nuke your wallet overnight, or of course charge an exorbitant hourly rate.

My principal hobby is photography, specialising in birds (the feathered variety) and tropical flora, and about this time I was obsessed with finding an elusive example of the endangered West Indian Whistling Duck, one of its known habitats being on the island of St Vincent.

Currently without internet access, and possessing little desire for sitting amongst nerds in an internet café, I thus found myself exploring this library in search of more information and history about this small Caribbean island, in particular the nearby tiny private resort of Young Island where that holiday bed was waiting. I refuse to buy travel books, once put to use they sit on the shelf, catch dust and rapidly go out of date, never to be used again.

In the huge main library I had found six volumes on the Leeward Islands and grabbed them all, leaving a conspicuous gap on the shelf. The adjacent dingy room I was now in delivered up a very worn single volume on St Vincent, and yet nothing on Young Island.

Arms laden, I headed for the checkout. The librarian was attending the next person in line, her fingers long and arrow straight, each and every one heavily adorned with a liberal quantity of gaudy rings which clinked noisily each time she date-stamped a book. Automatically I noted the absence of a wedding ring. Her nails were professionally manicured and, out of contrast with her demeanour, painted bright red. I wondered idly if her toenails were the same colour, an adornment I find most stimulating, especially when the toe in question is horizontally inclined with one's own. To complete the picture, she wore pearl necklace, an example of which was last seen on my grandmother!

She looked up as I passed her my stack of books and produced an unexpected warm smile, displaying a very even row of dazzling white teeth. Maybe that's what did it? I am a sucker for beautiful teeth, the polished feel of them in that tentative probing first kiss.

Rubber stamp poised for action, she glanced up, catching me staring at the gentle swelling of her breasts behind that sad looking sweater. I wondered just how much her modest clothing was hiding, suddenly attracted to some hidden sexual energy emanating from this strange woman.

"Lovely name," I remarked, my stare hastily lifting from the badge on her breast to her bright green eyes. She frowned for a moment, then smiled again.

Glancing at my library card she quickly handed it back to me. "I would never guess where you're going on holiday Mr Graham."

It was at this moment that the brain lodged between my legs engaged autopilot and probably changed my life forever, and most certainly not in the direction I expected from this encounter. I grinned back charmingly, holding her stare, oblivious to the customers waiting behind.

"Young Island actually, in the Caribbean. Very small, very exclusive and apparently, very picturesque."

Totally losing the plot I leaned forward conspiratorially and added, " I know this might sound rather odd, but I've just found out that my ex-girlfriend can't come, would you be interested her ticket?"

Clearly from her expression she thought I was joking, because she laughed back at me with a strong Dublin accent, "Bloody right to be sure, do we leave tonight?"

Holding my eyes steady with her own she realised I was serious and put her hands to her open mouth.

"Oh my God! You mean it!"

Before she could react further I quickly held up my hands, "No strings, just companionship and a free holiday."

The elderly woman in line behind me who had been listening intently butted in loudly, "Go for it girl, I would!"

Ignoring the comment I gave Lesilia a winsome smile. "Don't decide now, meet me outside when you finish and we can chat about it, okay?"

Her eyes open wide, she looked stunned as I gathered up my books and hurriedly left the building before giving her a chance to say no thank you or I have a boyfriend or sick mother or some other lame excuse I didn't want to hear at that moment. As I glanced back through the glass doors she was still staring after me, hand to her open mouth, the elderly woman trying to get her attention. As I strode happily back to my car I suddenly realised that the encounter had given rise to an erection, I had just attempted to pull the librarian! And, in her excitement, she hadn't even stamped my books!

Back at my apartment I threw the books on the sofa and poured a large whisky. Only then did the impact of what I had just done really hit me. I had invited a complete stranger to spend ten days with me in the Caribbean, and for all I knew she might not be interested in sex, which would be a holiday disaster, and by the clothes she was wearing she could easily pass for a lesbian! I must have been mad, I knew at least four women who would jump at an all-expenses paid holiday in the tropics, not discounting my ex-girlfriend Lisa's delightful younger sister who had hit on me in a big way at a recent party. Karen's number was scrawled on a Post-it by my bedside phone; one call and I knew her bags would be packed! I had to get out of this dilemma I resolved, the chances were that Lesilia would sensibly refuse and the door would be open again, but I had to do the gentlemanly thing and meet her as arranged, especially as I had to return the books at some stage, even if only to get them stamped.

A little before 5.30 I was waiting outside the library main entrance with my speech prepared. "Look Lesilia, I was totally out of order in there and will totally understand if you don't want to come." I rephrased it a dozen times until I was convinced I had the words which would guarantee a refusal and allow her to keep face, thus leaving me free to chase Lisa's very available sister. My well-prepared speech was instantly forgotten when ten minutes later a delightful sexy creature bearing only the remotest resemblance to a librarian called Lesilia, descended the steps toward me, smiling nervously.

"Put your eyes back in their sockets Mr Graham and buy me a drink please. I think I need one after that proposal of yours." She surprisingly took my arm as we made our way to the pub across the square.

"Vodka and tonic please, I have to go pee."

I watched her stride away through the bar and stared again open-mouthed at the revelation. She had changed out of the frumpy work clothes into a pair of beige skin-hugging jeans encasing the tiniest ass I had seen in years, plus a pink sleeveless top covering a pair of small perky breasts. It was difficult in the subdued light to ascertain if she was wearing a bra. Her curly red hair now fell loosely around her shoulders. When she returned we touched glasses.

"Jekyll and Hyde," I remarked, glancing at her clothes.

"I have to dress down at work," she explained, "Or I get all the weirdos making the most outrageous propositions!" She grinned slyly.

"In which case you might think you are drinking with one, my name's Tom by the way." I extended a formal hand.

"Les. I have to say you don't look like the usual type of weirdo we get in there."

I gave an exaggerated bow. "Thank you ma'am."

She grinned. "I checked you out on the credit database. Amazing what you can find out on there!"

"Inside leg too?"

"Ha ha, everything but!"

"So Les, where do we go from here?"

She looked at me seriously for a moment. "Well, you are obviously a person who goes after what he wants, and I admire that in a man, but whether you have succeeded is totally a different matter."

"I'm sorry if I put you on the spot in there, I'm not usually as forward as that."

"It was a bit of a surprise, but I must admit it brightened up a dull day." She sipped at her drink. "But I want to know a couple of things before I even consider this."

"Be my guest," I countered, catching the barman's eye and nodding for a second round.

"My parents had a twisted sense of humour, but my friends call me Les, okay? For obvious reasons I can't put that on my badge!" She grinned. "And I assure you I'm not one of those!"

Her eyes locked with mine. "Tom, I want to know about you, what you do, and any bad habits. And, if you smoke or you're married, then no bloody way, it's goodbye here and now."

"And the second question umm, Les?"

"I'll ask that when you have answered the first," she smiled, her emerald eyes still holding mine.

We took our drinks to a quieter part of the bar and I gave her a brief history. At 27 I guess I was at least a couple of years older than her, but we matched each other with our slim features, and whereas I was close on six feet she was a comfortable six inches shorter. I had a quick vision of her gazing up at me lovingly, moist lips parted, inviting that first passionate kiss. I wondered how soon that might be.

"Lesil... sorry, Les… I am just a humble architect, a partner in a small firm in Southfields."

"You must have wealthy clients to pay for a Caribbean holiday."

I laughed. "Normally Europe is my limit, and we have an office in Paris, where I met my ex last year. She paid for our holiday by the way."

Her eyes widened at the mention of the word 'our.'

I told her of my failed childless marriage followed shortly by a wild six month affair with Lisa, and which of course finally came officially to an end just a few hours ago.

"So I am a rebound date then?"

"No, no." I emphatically shook my head. "I hardly saw anything of Lisa in the last few months, we only slept together twice since New Years."

"No one else in that time?"

"Nope."

"Any hobbies?"

"Doing or watching?"

"Both"

"Beer, football and sex," I joked.

She put down her drink and started to rise, holding out her hand. "Goodbye then."

I held her arm. "Hey, just joking. Actually I am an avid cricket fan, short of being Barmy Army, but sadly couldn't afford the time to go to the World Cup. I play badminton and tennis; love to swim but only in warm seas."

I told her of my passion for photography and searching for rare birds.

"I think I might have found one today!" I added, grinning.

She smiled, flashing those dazzling kissable teeth. "Okay, now tell me why I would like this Young Island, whatever you call it."

The pub was filling up and, with the noise making conversation increasingly difficult, we moved closer together, her bare shoulder touching my arm as we leaned against the bar.

"Well, it's little more than a privately owned rock, got its own hotel and sandy beach, and if it lives up to the rest of the Caribbean it will be divine. Apparently the individual chalets are set amongst bougainvillea and palm trees, with a pool in the centre. And instead of deck chairs they have hammocks."

She smiled, her thoughts clearly drifting to 4000 miles away.

"It's very romantic," I added, hoping these were the words which would convince her. I was wrong.

"I'm not looking for romance Tom, my last one bit me in the ass."

I changed tack. "Okay, perhaps when I get back on line I can send you some pics of the place?"

A rugby type forced his way to the bar and I placed an arm around Les to shield her from the intrusion, her body melting rather surprisingly into mine. As she appeared to be gaining interest I became bolder.

"Before she became my ex-girlfriend, Lisa and I were obviously going to share one of the chalets. If you are still interested in all this, may I be the gentleman and suggest separate beds would be appropriate or, I can ask if there is a separate cabin available."

"Very gallant of you Tom, but a bit over the top. Of course I'm interested, I wouldn't be here otherwise would I?"

She held up a hand as I started to bumble a reply.

"But in the remote chance I agree to this, you are a young available guy, I am a single younger woman, and I have to assume you want more than just someone to carry your camera case around, right?"

She didn't wait for my reply. "So I'm going to have to think about it, okay?"

Les had to be aware that it's not often a girl gets invited on such an expensive date, the temptation must surely be too much to ignore. So I was hoping. I remained silent, knowing there was more to come.

She gulped a long sip from her glass. "Look, I'll be honest. It's obvious I am tempted, I so need a holiday right now, and I know I shouldn't be telling you this but…" taking another large swig, "…I haven't had sex in ages. So I have to be comfortable with the thought of sharing a room with you. I just need time to think it over. And anyway, I have to see if I can get the time off and also get my mum to look after my little girl."

"Oh, how old is she, your girl I mean? Where is the father?"

"Mary's nearly six and he cleared off as soon as he knew I was pregnant."

"Bastard," I commented with an appropriate disapproving tone.

"Not really Tom, if I was him I would have done the same, I was sleeping around a lot at the time and a bit careless with the pill. As it happens any one of three blokes could have been the father, though my intuition says it was him." She smiled at the surprised look on my face.

"Have I shocked you?"

"Not really I suppose, I sowed a lot of oats myself a few years ago, probably nearly a field full."

She laughed briefly, then frowned. "I've only had one true boyfriend since then, but when I eventually asked him to move in with me and Mary, he ran a mile. Do you know it took me two years after he had gone to discover that all that time he was married? We certainly find them don't we!" she sighed.

"All part of the experience we call life I am told."

"Please tell me you are not married, are you Tom?"

"I told you I was divorced two years ago, I can show you the certificate if you want?"

"No, I believe you, you seem a trusty sort of guy."

"Thank you. So where do we go from here?"

She declined another drink "Right now I have to pick Mary up from my mum and ship her off to a birthday party, can I phone you tomorrow?"

"Yes of course, I'd like that," I took her arm and we threaded our way out of the pub.

"Better idea, why not dinner tomorrow?"

"Umm, I need to think on that one Tom." She suddenly gripped my arm. "By the way, didn't you have anyone else in mind for this trip?"

"Only if you had said no, I haven't asked anyone else."

"I haven't said yes yet," she smiled back.

"Fernando's at eight? Just dinner, no strings?"

"You keep mentioning strings Tom, I must remember to pack some scissors!" She smirked and hesitated.

"Come on Les, you know you want to really."

She laughed as we went down the steps. "Those were the very words that got me pregnant!"

We stared at each other in silence and then she relented. "All right. Is that the Mexican place by the station?"

As I nodded she surprised me by leaning into me and kissing me full on the lips. "That's to tell you I am interested, but no more than that, not just yet anyway."

We parted at the library car park after she had noted the dates of the holiday and we had swapped mobile numbers. She blew me a kiss as she drove away in a little green Mini.

***

Next day I woke early, subconsciously clutching the usual morning hard-on, imagining Les's head on the pillow next to mine as we softly caressed each other after a night of mind-boggling sex in our tropical hideaway. After yesterday's conversation I was pretty sure she wanted to come with me but clearly didn't want to appear too eager. I respect women who play a little hard to get, knowing only too well that they enjoy the chase as much. So, being positive and believing she wanted me to make the next move, I sent her a text.

'Hi Les, look forward to tonite! Tom x. PS At some stage I will need a surname to change the booking, hope its yours!'

Five tense filled minutes later she replied, 'Kool.' That was it, just 'Kool.'

I played the message again expecting more but, just…'Kool'.

After a quick shower I set off on the Tube to meet a client in the City followed by another in West London and when the train eventually surfaced into sunshine my mobile buzzed in my shirt pocket.

"It's Baron, Lesilia Baron. Make sure you spell it right. Lx"

"Kool from me too. xT" I typed. "PS I'm at Barons Ct Tube. How's that for coincidence?"

"Must b meant..cu tonite x."

I spent the rest of the day happy as a dog with two tails and wondering how soon we would be able to test our sexual compatibility, or whether she would want to wait until we got to the island.