Roland DeForrest - The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

Listening to the soft sounds of her bathing, he nursed a straight Scotch and stood on the small balcony, seeking a cool breeze and trying to deal with his rising expectations. He felt inextricably drawn to her, as if he were the only one in the whole world who could help her find Kolina. He pledged to himself that he would do everything within his power and resources to reunite the two sisters.

He was thinking of trying to reach Honey with news of the recent developments when Jamilia emerged from the bathroom, her voluptuous figure wrapped only in a large, damp bath towel. Wordlessly she poured herself a small cognac in a large snifter.

He raised his own glass. “To finding Kolina.”

“You will help me, then?”

“Of course, Jamilia,” he said. “My sister and I have already begun.”

She moved closer to him, sipping from the snifter, eyeing him over the rim. “Jamilia is my dancing name. My real name is Barbro.”

“Barbro and Kolina,” he murmured. “Those are Swedish, aren’t they?” He could feel the heat rising within him like mercury in a thermometer.

She nodded. “We were born outside of Goteborg on a small farm. Our father was a professor of economics at the university.” Her lovely, light blue eyes welled with tears again. “And our mother was a folk dancer in a professional troop.”

“How did a Swedish girl end up belly dancing in Cartagena?”

She smiled wistfully, and for a brief second he saw again the identical image of Kolina in the park. “I was raised dancing,” she began softly. “And one year, when I was eleven and Kolina was six, my father taught in Tunisia. I began studying Middle Eastern dancing there. After… after the boat explosion that claimed by parents’ lives, I needed a profession to put Kolina through school. Because my figure is too full for any other kind of dancing, I went to Egypt and studied more. Blonde belly dancers are a rarity, and I became quite successful. The best offer came from this club here. Blondes are also at a premium in South America.”

“Especially such talented ones.” He could not control his urges any longer. He bent and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She did not pull back, but rather returned it in full.

When they parted, she looked at him strangely. “Why do you want to help find Kolina? You saw her only for a moment.”

“I’m a professional photographer. Beautiful women are my passion. I’ve never, ever seen a face like hers… or yours, for that matter. You look so much like her…” He broke off, flustered at his ineffectual explanation, and tried again. “She looked so damned vulnerable, so in need of someone to help her…”

Barbro nodded silently in agreement and took his hand, pulling him toward the bed in the alcove. He hesitated, torn by conflicing desires. “Barbro… you don’t have to do anything for me. I’ll look for your sister without any reward from you.”

She placed a finger on his lips. “Shhh… I want you, Dirk Wildon. You are a good man, a decent man. And I haven’t had any man for such a long, long time.”

In amazement he stared down at her beautiful face. “I find that difficult to understand. You could have any man you wanted.”

She sighed and sank gracefully to the bed, tossing embroidered pillows aside. “Belly dancers are always thought to be promiscuous because their art is so erotic. But my standards are high. Rather than risk my reputation, which would make my life hell in such a place as this, I prefer to remain celibate.” She lay back on the pillows and held her arms up to him. “You are a very sexy man. Tall, lanky, like an American cowboy…”

Thrilled by her praise, he fell beside her and gathered her to him, whispering into her face, “And you are a very sexy woman… full, ripe, delicious, a smorgasbord of delights…” She giggled and he kissed her hungrily; his tongue sank deep into her smooth mouth, which tasted of mints and smelled of cognac. Their tongues twisted and coiled around each other like mating snakes. At once his larger snake raised its head and pressed heatedly through his slacks into her soft belly.

He reared up to pull the damp towel from her luscious body and fling it on the floor. By the dim light of the brass lantern, he gazed raptly at the revealed wonders. Her skin was the color of his sister’s, creamy white, unblemished, satiny to the touch of his roaming fingers. Her breasts were a treasure trove-full, rounded mounds of pale flesh, pliable to the touch. Her aureoles were pale pink, and her nipples, slightly darker in color, were already as hard as pencil erasers, cylindrical in shape, flat-topped. He lowered his mouth and sucked on one, flicking it with his tongue as her encircling arms pressed him to her. Not wanting to slight a single portion, he traced his tongue across the deep crevice between her breasts and to the other nipple, biting it softly, raising a soft moan of approval from deep in her throat.

She pushed his shoulders up off her, panting, “Get nude, Dirk… I want you nude too.”

He rolled off the bed and stood, tearing off his shirt, tossing it aside while he toed off his Gucci loafers. As he unzipped his slacks his hard peter bounced into view and she reached out a cool hand, taking hold of it while he shucked his slacks and stepped out of them. While she kept hold of his rigid bird, he struggled out of his socks and was about to kneel again on the bed, when her mouth swooped forward and closed over the end of his pleasantly surprised dick. She sat on the edge of the bed holding his hips with her hands as her mouth encompassed his cock, sliding down on it until he could feel the back of her throat. Stroking her blonde waves, he watched her devour his bird as if it were a sausage of the tastiest meat. His hands lowered to her bouncing breasts and he tweaked her nipples, rolling and pinching the puckered flesh between his fingertips; cupping her full breasts, he held them in the palm of his hand, feeling their weight, their resiliency.

She let his dick slip from her mouth and inhaled one of his balls, washing it around her talented mouth, scrubbing it with her tongue before letting go of it to apply the same attention to the other testicle. His hard peter battered her soft cheek, and he could feel a roaring furnace stoking to life deep in the center of his groin. She pulled back slightly to study his bird, holding it gently in both hands, pulling the skin tightly back from its engorged head, licking the end of it, parting the small opening with her tongue.

He couldn’t wait any longer and shoved her back on the bed, crawling between her legs, spreading her creamy thighs wide, opening her steamy portal to paradise for his own minute study. Her bush was the color of tropical beach sand, soft and silky. Her crinkled labia were tinged a delicate rose hue, which deepened in color the further he explored with his eager fingers. Her internal walls were slick with dew and undulated with their own erotic dance. Slowly he lowered his mouth, inhaling the sweet aroma of ripe fruit. She tasted just as sweet, and his tongue dug deep, slicing her open like a fresh fig. He located her love trigger and afflicted it tenderly until her generous hips were writhing.

He scooted his legs around, bringing his demanding cock to her mouth, and as he ate at her delectable morsels of love meat, she sucked his quivering bird deeply into her throat. He pumped his hips gently and caressed the insides of her thighs, clutching at the soft cheeks of her buttocks, pulling her buttocks wide apart, reaming her purple-pink anus, and returning to the tender trench like a homing pigeon. For a long while they continued in the classic sixty-nine position until he felt too close to creaming into her mouth. Wanting to postpone the inevitable as long as possible, he withdrew and, turning her on her side, crawled around her, spooning his hips up to her soft mass of ass, his aching cock pressing between her cheeks, his arms encircling her, his hands grabbing for her large breasts, his face buried in her neck just below her ear.