Pamela Anderson - Star Struck

“You’re so warm,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind and grinding his denim-encased erection into the silky fabric of the tiny black shorts sliding from her waist.

“I can’t explain how I feel,” Star said, reaching behind to grasp his thighs and urging him more tightly against her.

“Your body feels great,” Jimi said, boldly running his hand up to fondle her breasts with such delicate finesse that there was only enough contact to create an arc of sensation.

Star shivered from the intensity.

Sensations fired through her body. The moist sand under her feet like walking on cooked oatmeal. The froth of the waves lapping at her ankles like lace cuffs. And Jimi’s urgent and growing sexual need, like static electric shocks with each touch.

“You know what?” she said, turning back so abruptly that it startled him. “I think getting in the water naked would be so awesome right now. And I have a Jacuzzi in my room.” She was so excited she was shouting.

“That is so cool,” he said, embracing her, thrilled almost to the point of orgasm by just the idea of being naked in a tub with Star. He could feel himself begin to leak as little spasms rocked his body.

“Race you,” she said, breaking away and running up the beach in the direction of the hotel.

Star was tearing off what was left of her clothes even before the door to her room closed. Jimi followed her as she filled the tub and climbed in.

The water felt like warm Jell-O against her skin, thicker somehow. More viscous. And then, Jimi was on her, rubbing against her, and they were naked together for the first time, in the warm, silky water.

His mouth sought hers out and the feeling of his tongue entwined with hers was almost too much. It was as if they were kissing in slow motion as each tried to seek out every bump and serration and indentation in the mouth of the other.

“What does this feel like?” he asked, trailing his fingers down her body and sliding them inside.

Star shrieked. The orgasm was instantaneous, swift, and fierce. Jimi merely brushed against that most sensitive spot and she went off like a gunshot. The effect was so intense she had to hang on to Jimi for support. But unlike a gunshot, it went on and on. As his fingers explored, it just kept happening, rolling over her like waves in a storm, too numerous to count and too frequent to regain her footing.

“Oh, God,” she said, when at last she found words. “You’ve got about two days to stop doing that.”

So he did it again.

The effect was exactly the same, or maybe even better, she couldn’t decide because he didn’t stop the second time until she forced his hand away, unable to endure the pleasure any longer. It was a delicious pain, like drinking something really cold when you’re thirsty on a hot day. It burns so good going down. Sex with Jimi was like orgasms came by the gallon and she was drinking too fast.

She pushed him backward until he stumbled and ended up sitting on the enormous tub’s silky marble steps. And, like the neck of the Loch Ness monster, his erection broke the surface even though the steps were submerged.

Wow, she thought.

“What?” he asked.

“You know what I’m really good at?” Star asked mischievously.

“What?” He grinned in reply.

“Holding my breath.”

She took him into her mouth, her head underwater as she plumbed the depths.

“Oh, shit,” his voice rang out in the marble room.

She almost drowned, but what a way to go.

They spent the next two days naked in the water. They rubbed, licked, sucked, fondled, and tasted each other to orgasm so repeatedly that their entire bodies were chapped and raw. After the first couple of hours they had discovered Star’s video camera, and they began relentlessly filming each other, not only when they were rubbing each other raw, but in the bathroom or showering or eating breakfast.

They simply could not seem to get enough of each other. It was as though the camera allowed them to see more than just when they were looking at each other.

He was filming her when he said those words that reshaped their destinies.

“Marry me?”

She looked up at him with a nervous giggle and smiled. It was as though she was checking to see if he was kidding.

“Okay,” she said.

“And the ring?” she asked, wiggling her upturned fingers.

“We stole it,” Jimi admitted.

“Oh my God,” Star gasped. It was quite the rock and she knew they’d be looking for it. She tried to pull it from her hand, moving toward the door to throw the ring into the ocean below, but his laughter stopped her. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he said. “We didn’t steal it. I bought it for you.”

“That’s not all that funny,” she giggled, unable to resist his full and easy laugh.

“No,” he admitted, still laughing. “It’s not. But you wanted to.”

“I did?” she asked in disbelief, crossing back over to him.

“That’s why you bought that gun,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let you, but really, you buying that gun was the best thing ever.”

“Excuse me,” Star said to the clerk at Salvatore’s. “Do you speak English?”

“Si, Señora,” he replied, beaming at her. “What do you need today?”

“A gun,” she said, looking through the glass case at the revolvers the store had on offer, while Jimi videotaped the scene.

“A gun?” the clerk asked, only a little surprised after years of American tourists. “What sort of gun?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “The silver one is nice.”

“Lo siento, Señora,” the clerk corrected himself. “What will you be using the gun for?”

“I need to rob a jewelry store,” Star said, looking up from the glass case and smiling into the man’s startled face. She had counted on surprising him—and she succeeded.

“The, uh, silver one should be fine,” he said, recovering as Jimi’s laughter shook the camera. “Perhaps this is a little joke?”

“Oh no, I’m serious,” Star assured the man. “Could I hold it?”

“Por supuesto.” The clerk gave her a bow, took a key from his pocket, and opened the case. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the gun.

“Heavy,” she said, assuming her best Charlie’s Angels’ stance, tossing her hair back and posing both for the camera and for Jimi. “How many thingies does it hold?” she asked, looking down the barrel.

“Siete… seven thingies,” the clerk said, glad that the gun was not loaded.

“Does it come with thingies?” she asked, sighting the clerk down the barrel.

“No, but we sell thingies as well.” He ducked to get a box of bullets from below the counter. “May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

Star handed the clerk the gun, and he demonstrated how to insert the bullets into the magazine.

“Cool,” she said. “I’ll take it and a dozen of the thingies.”

“A dozen?” the clerk asked. “We sell them by the box.”

“Yeah, er, right,” Star shrugged. “I mean a dozen boxes.”

“This must be quite a jewelry store,” the clerk said, playing along with the joke as he assembled the purchase.

“It’s an amazing ring,” Star said, leaning against Jimi. “We’re going to be married.”

“Congratulations,” the clerk said. “Will there be anything else?”

“Does it need batteries?”

“But we didn’t rob the store?”

“No, I’d already bought you the ring before you bought the gun.” Jimi smiled, remembering the exhilaration he’d felt in that moment, and pretty much every moment since he’d left with Star for Madre de la Perla.

“And the wedding?”

“At some club.” He rolled his eyes. “We got the license and had a Mexican Elvis impersonator marry us after the bikini contest. The winner was your maid of honor. You both wore white.”