After four, she’d have a scotch and soda with a Kent cigarette and evenings she’d smoke while reading a book. What amazed me about Mom and her sm...king was what she left behind in the ashtray. Every crushed and stomped out butt had a neat round, red circle around the part where she’d put in her lips. Mom always wore make-up, powder, rouge, eye shadow and lipstick, her medium length black hair usually had a good dose of hair spray. Sometimes when I smell a certain perfume she wore, I’d swear. "Nooo," she said, shaking her head. I understood what she had in mind, scooping her up so that her head would hang out safely over the banister, one arm beneath her knees and one hand around her torso. This time, my grab at her boob was entirely unintentional, but this time my mother noticed. She giggled, using her hands to bat my fingers away from her bust. Undeterred, I mounted the stairs. Once I reached the top, I did not set her down, instead carrying her into her bedroom. I hovered. I checked in, dumped my stuff. My dirty clothes carried too much of a reminder of where I had been, so I changed into shorts and a t-shirt, slipped on a pair of sandals, and headed out to explore paradise. Uninhabited when the Dutch first discovered it and used it as a watering stop for their trade routes, the French and British fought over it for centuries until the island gained independence in the 1960s.By 11am, I had wandered around enough and was sitting at the beach bar. It was just a. The inside of my thighs are wet and glistening with my arousal from our previous play we had enjoyed minutes ago when you fucked my mouth. I could still taste your salty cum as I licked my dry lips. My excitement is mounting with each breath I take. I'm going to be thoroughly fucked! I've been waiting for this moment. I've dreamed of this moment. I squirm with anticipation, tugging on the shackles binding my wrists; my hips undulate of their own accord. A moan escapes my throat as my thoughts.