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Angela fixed them a couple of Margaritas and they sat talking for about 30 minutes. Now Tracey felt they should go upstairs and get the party started. She made herself clear by taking Angela’s glass from her and pushing her friend on her back. She tugged the garment down and nibbled on one of Angela’s big tits, sucking and plucking the large pink nipples. She could smell Angela’s arousal, she got a sensual, musky aroma during sex and it was already in the air. They needed to go upstairs and have a nice lezzie fuck. She also wondered just what the surprise was that Angela had told her about during her phone call. Had she bought some new toys or clothes? Angela had her own accounts so that her husband never caught wind of her purchases. He had no idea of what a hot, kinky slut he was truly married to. The 38-year old brunette began climbing the stairs with Tracey close behind, watching her gorgeous buttocks bouncing. Tracey could smell the subtle scent of Jasmine wafting from Angela’s. Tracy's bikini bottom was half way down her thighs, twisted around and partially inside-out. Her pale and tight labia was visible below the matted and sandy pillow of her pubic hairs from between her slightly spread legs. Her body was bruised; she was covered with grit and small pieces of debris that had washed up on the covered beach with her. Her hair, still tied back in a pony tail was now matted and gritty from the fine volcanic sand; the bangs were tangled in front of her eyes. All of her equipment was still with her, though. Tracy's rebreather was still slung around her neck; her id tags were tangled around it. She still had her weapons, and her pouches were still attached and sealed.As she breathed, her chest moved up and down in a regular fashishisracy was exhausted [sic] -- beyond sleep and dreamless. She lay in the sand on her back for a long time.Suddenly, Tracy opened her eyes and looked up and around; it was dark; the seas boomed less forcefully; the wind howled less.
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