Eden Cove Resort Pt. 02

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Playground.

The breeze was warm. The palm trees swayed. The sun hung high over Eden Cove like it had been told to hold its position for John's arrival.

The tarmac was already behind them.

John sat in the passenger seat of a sleek white cabriolet with gold accents, the Eden Cove logo shimmering on the hood like a crest of royalty. Gianna drove with one hand, her sunglasses gleaming, and her long legs crossed casually at the ankle. She didn't look like a driver. She looked like a CEO who occasionally chauffeured gods for sport.

"It's a short ride," she said, guiding the cabriolet onto a sun-drenched coastal road. "We like to keep our winners close to the good stuff."

Gianna eased into the turn, the car humming softly as palm-lined villas came into view below. "You know," she said, glancing at John with a sideways smile, "some winners eventually step away from the resort."

"Wait--they leave Eden Cove?" he asked, surprised.

She chuckled. "No, not the island. Just the resort itself."

John frowned. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Some want quiet. Privacy. Maybe they fall in love and want to settle into something simpler, away from the spotlight. The fireworks, the fantasies--it's not for everyone forever."

"And what do they get?"

"They still live on Eden Cove. We give them a private house--no rent, no taxes, no catch. They're part of the family for life."

"But?"

"But," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, "they give up their full-access privileges to the resort. No more round-the-clock service. No spa-on-demand. No themed playrooms or late-night rooftop champagne."

John raised a brow. "So they go from rockstar to retiree."

Gianna smirked. "Semi-retired gods. Still adored--but no longer worshipped nightly."

John leaned into the wind, his eyes scanning the scenery as it unfolded. Villas sprawled lazily across hillsides like cats in heat--each more exotic than the last. Some had open terraces with daybeds shaded by silk canopies. Others had infinity pools that mirrored the ocean's surface, giving the illusion of swimming into the horizon.

People strolled barefoot along the garden paths or lay draped over lounges like accessories to the scenery itself. Everyone waved as the cabriolet passed. Women in tiny bikinis raised their glasses. Others threw sultry smiles. One even blew a kiss. John waved back reflexively, blinking.

Gianna smirked. "You'll get used to that."

"Feels like I accidentally became a celebrity."

"You're better than a celebrity. You're available."

She let that hang in the air for a beat, then added, "Just remember--your free use privileges only apply inside the resort."

John turned to her, intrigued. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, once you step outside the resort gates, the game ends. The villas, the island homes, the former winners living privately--they aren't part of the fantasy. Out there, you play by real-world rules. Consent isn't implied. You ask."

John gave a slow nod. "So inside, I'm a king. Outside, I'm a guest."

Gianna smiled. "Exactly. A very privileged guest... but still a guest."

They rounded a final bend, and the view broke wide open.

The resort emerged ahead--low, sleek buildings of glass and pale wood, shaded by palm fronds and dressed in flowerbeds and ambient lighting. A central stone path led straight through the breezy atrium. Beyond that, the ocean.

But what caught John's eye wasn't the architecture.

It was the lineup.

Seven women stood waiting just beyond the circular drop-off. Each wore the resort uniform--if it could even be called that: short, curve-hugging skirts and tight crop tops that clung to their chests like silk paint. A golden name tag sat pinned just above the heart.

No bras. No modesty. No apology.

And definitely... no awkwardness about it.

They stood like goddesses dressed for a photoshoot. Some with playful smirks, others with poised allure. Each one stunning in an entirely different way.

John stepped out of the car, breath catching slightly.

"I should... shake their hands?" he murmured.

Gianna didn't look up as she closed the car door, her voice a velvet purr. "Sure. If you want them to think you're here for a business seminar."

She strolled past him, hips swaying just enough to make the point. "Sweetheart, eye contact and a smile will get you a lot further than a handshake here. Unless you're offering to shake something else..."

He approached the first woman--a tall, lithe beauty with long platinum-blonde hair cascading down her back and piercing blue eyes that seemed to read his heart rate.

Before he could offer his hand, she stepped forward and pulled him into a firm, graceful hug. Her chest pressed into him, and her voice, smooth and accented, warmed his ear.

"I am Elsa," she murmured. "Your body and moan therapist."

"... Come again?" John blinked.

"Yes," she said, deadpan. "You will."

Elsa stepped back with a tiny smirk and motioned to the next.

A shimmering curtain of icy platinum and streaks of red framed the aqua-eyed bartender who sauntered up. She smelled like vodka and mischief.

"Ivana," she said, her voice low and dangerously sweet. "Bar babe. I pour drinks. I serve pleasure. Furthermore, I rarely take tips, but I always take control."

John opened his mouth.

Ivana leaned in, her lips a breath away from his ear, voice dripping with velvet mischief. "I don't do just tips... but from what I've heard, I'm not even sure I'll be able to swallow your whole length."

She pulled back with a wicked grin, eyes sparkling like she'd just dared him to prove it.

John froze for a beat, caught between a laugh and a gasp. His brain scrambled for a response, but all it came up with was static and heat.

His mouth opened--closed again.

A low chuckle escaped before he could stop it. "I, uh... hope you're not planning to test that behind the bar."

Ivana arched a brow, unapologetic and amused. "Only if you're on the menu, baby."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to look composed. It didn't help.

"God help me," he muttered.

The next woman practically bounced toward him, her champagne-blonde waves shimmering under the sun. She had the posture of a model and the eyes of someone who'd dominate a poker table.

"I'm Svetlana," she said with a smoky Russian purr. "Table tease. I serve... everything. Food. Drinks. My attention. It depends on how hungry you are."

John smiled, playing along now. "Starving."

Svetlana's gaze dragged slowly down his body and back up, every inch devoured with velvet eyes. Her lips parted in a slow, knowing smile.

"Then you're already late... and I don't like letting things cool down."

She turned with a sultry sway, her perfume lingering like a promise, leaving John caught between a smirk and a shiver.

Then came fire.

Or at least, a woman who looked like it--wild red hair that danced like flame, green-gold eyes that smoldered with mischief, and an apron that clung more than it covered, barely containing her curves or her confidence.

"Dani," she said, extending her hand like it was a dare. "Heat & Hunger Seductress. I'm your chef. But if you think I only serve food... you're deliciously mistaken."

She stepped in close, voice a sultry murmur against his skin. "Most of my dishes are served naked. And always--always--hot."

John exhaled through his nose, pulse ticking faster. "I think I like your menu already."

Dani's mouth curled into a slow, wicked smile. "It changes with the seasons," she said, tracing one finger down his chest. "But me? I'm always in heat."

The next figure moved with calm grace, like she belonged to the wind. Her deep red hair flowed in gentle waves, and her pale green eyes--flecked with gold--held a quiet intensity. Even the air seemed to hush around her.

"I'm Emily," she said, her voice a soft Irish lilt that curled like warm whiskey. "Body Maintenance Babe. If anything's actin' up, gone a bit wonky, or just needs loosenin'--I'm yer woman."

John raised a brow. "You're a physician?"

"With a specialty in pleasure," she replied with a smile that hinted at trouble. "And a fierce belief in preventative nudity, so I do. Keeps the tension down--and the craic up."

Before he could recover from that, the next girl stepped forward with a small, clumsy stumble.

She was petite and ultra-curvy, her double buns bouncing as she knelt to fix a loose sandal strap. Her turquoise eyes sparkled beneath long lashes.

"I am Alina," she chirped, her thick Russian accent coating every syllable. "On-demand doll. I clean, I fetch... I make feel good, da? Sometime all same time."

Her name tag suddenly popped loose and clattered to the ground.

"Oh no!" she squeaked, eyes wide. "I always drop tings..."

John instinctively bent to pick it up. He was on one knee in front of her when she shifted her hips forward ever so slightly, the hem of her short skirt flirting with gravity. She leaned close, fingers brushing his shoulder.

"You like dis?" she whispered. "You on knees for me already. Is good start."

John froze, caught between helping and laughing. "I wasn't on my knees for you."

"Da, da... but you look like you want stay dere," she teased, tapping his chin lightly. "Maybe next time I drop panties, not name."

John blinked, stood slowly, and handed back her name tag.

She giggled. "Spasibo. You strong. Very polite. I like dat."

As he rose, she patted his chest with both hands--half affectionate, half mischievous. "Mmm. Big chest. I bring polish later, make shine."

He wasn't sure whether he was blushing or winded.

Finally, the last girl skipped toward him, bursting with energy like a confetti cannon.

Bright pink hair framed her freckled face, and orange-tinted glasses slipped down her nose as she giggled.

"Nadiaaaa!" she declared. "Naughty Activity Leader. That's not just a title--it's a threat!"

She twirled on one foot and struck a pose. "I'm responsible for games, chaos, dancing, moaning, and any spontaneous decisions you regret and love at the same time."

John blinked. "I feel like I need a helmet just talking to you."

"You need a safe word," she shot back. "But don't worry, I come with instructions. And I never read them."

Gianna returned at just the right moment, watching with arms crossed and a faint smirk. "Survived the first lineup?"

"Barely," John exhaled.

Nadia reached into a small velvet pouch hanging from her hip and pulled out something sleek and shiny.

"Your welcome gift," she said with a grin. "Special edition Apple Watch Ultra 3. It's programmed just for you."

John took it. The band was jet black with gold trim. The display lit up as soon as it touched his wrist.

WELCOME, JOHN

EDEN COVE ULTRA EXPERIENCE

SCHEDULE: LOADED

LOCATION TRACKING: OFF

FREEUSE ACCESS: FULL

He arched a brow. "This thing knows everything?"

Nadia wiggled her fingers. "Everything. It'll show you activities, where people are, who's hosting events, even who's open to being... used."

"That's... disturbingly useful."

"It's Eden," Gianna said from behind him. "Disturbingly useful is the brand."

Alina skipped to John's side again, her name tag now securely pinned--though slightly crooked.

"You ready for villa, da?" she beamed. "I show you da buttons. You press, I press, maybe bed bounce little. Is nice tour, yes?"

Gianna gave her a look somewhere between a sigh and a smirk.

"I'd better come along," she said smoothly. "Just to make sure the tour doesn't end in handcuffs... unless that's scheduled."

Alina gasped--dramatically, playfully. "Gianna! You peek my checklist?"

She leaned in close to John, eyes wide with mock scandal, and stage-whispered, "Is number three, da. Right after 'remove shoes'... and 'make him beg like good boy.'"

John looked between them. One elegant and composed and one adorable chaos in twin buns and dangerous curves.

He grinned.

"I like this tour already."

Chapter 3: Guided by Angels.

The sun was high, the path warm beneath John's feet, and the view--well, it could've been from a dream he didn't realize he'd had.

A cobblestone trail led away from the main resort, winding through lush palms and hibiscus hedges toward the cliffside. On either side of him walked two strikingly different women, united in poise and beauty.

Gianna, sharp and elegant, strode on his left. Her long legs moved with confident grace, her hand occasionally brushing his as if on accident. Her tailored skirt hugged her hips perfectly, and her top, while stylishly buttoned, left little to the imagination thanks to the way it clung to her body like silk skin.

On his right, Alina bounced rather than walked. Her movements were soft and unpredictable, and every step seemed like it might turn into a skip. The tiny black crop top she wore hugged her impossibly perky chest, and her short white skirt flicked with every swish of her hips. Her name tag still sat slightly crooked, like it was too shy to sit properly on a chest like that.

John's hands rested on their hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't even a conscious decision--it just... happened. Gianna didn't flinch, Alina giggled.

"Very comfortable, da?" she asked, casting a glance over her shoulder at him with a wink. "You like firm grip, huh?"

Gianna smirked. "He's adjusting fast."

John grinned between them. "You both feel like you expect to be touched."

"We do," Gianna replied without hesitation.

Alina gave a playful wriggle under his hand. "I even give score. You 8.5 grip. Need more squeeze."

"I'll work on it," he said dryly.

They turned a corner where the path curved sharply along the ridge, revealing an entirely new panorama below. The ocean exploded into view again--white waves crashing lazily along a small, crescent-shaped private beach framed by sculpted rock formations. Nestled above it, half-hidden by palms and flowering vines, stood a villa that looked like it had been drawn by a billionaire architect in the middle of a lucid dream.

John slowed his steps. "That's mine?"

Gianna followed his gaze. "Every inch."

"Even the beach?"

"We rake it twice a week," she replied, completely deadpan.

"Unless someone brings in glitter," Alina chimed in brightly. "Then it's three times."

Gianna shot her a look. "You brought in glitter."

"It was one time," Alina protested. "Birthday party!"

They walked up a short staircase flanked by carved white stone and lanterns. The air was rich with salt, sun, and something floral he couldn't name. As they stepped onto the wide deck of the villa, John felt his jaw tighten.

This wasn't a villa.

This was a statement.

The entrance opened to a vaulted-ceilinged lounge bathed in light. Every wall was glass. Beyond it, the infinity pool glistened like a mirror to the sky. The floors were polished white stone, cool to the touch and smooth as satin.

Gianna pushed open the massive door and stepped aside, her voice silk-wrapped authority. "Welcome home, John."

Alina twirled past her with arms flung wide, practically singing. "I clean everyting for you already! Smell nice, da?"

"It's outstanding," he muttered, blinking at the subtle mix of sandalwood, citrus, and something vaguely sinful.

Alina suddenly pointed at his sneakers like they were a crime. "No shoes in da lounge. Unless..." she grinned, "you want spank."

Gianna raised a perfectly groomed brow. "I didn't know that was part of the house rules."

"Is now," Alina said, hands on hips, beaming with pride.

John stepped out of his shoes without protest and followed them inside, wondering what other rules had been invented just for him.

Alina led the way, her hips swinging with purpose. "Rule number two: no shirts on balcony. Is bad for view."

Gianna closed the door behind them with a soft click. "I assume that applies to you, too?"

Alina shrugged. "I break rule sometimes. For balance."

She spun on her heel and pointed to a plush lounge chair. "Rule number three: if you sit here, you must cuddle. No lonely chair vibes."

John chuckled, hands in his pockets. "How many of these rules are there?"

Alina beamed. "As many as needed."

Gianna arched a brow. "Or invented on the spot."

Alina nodded proudly. "Is flexible system."

The tour began in the lounge, where a sunken sofa wrapped around a square fire pit set into the floor. The ceiling was open in places to the sky, with wooden slats creating stripes of golden light. Speakers hidden in the walls hummed with soft, sensual beats.

"This is your relaxation zone," Gianna explained. "Mood lighting, surround sound, pressure-controlled air. Also doubles as an ideal post-orgasmic nap spot."

"Very soft," Alina added, flopping onto the couch. "I test it. Much bounce."

"Wait," John said. "You... tested the couch?"

"Da," she said proudly. "Very good bounce. Almost lose name tag."

Gianna led him into the kitchen next--an open chef's layout with black marble counters, golden fixtures, and lighting soft enough to make luxury feel like foreplay. A double-door fridge waited silently, stocked to perfection.

"You won't need to cook," she said, running a finger along the countertop. "But everything's here if it suits you. Or if someone feels inspired... while naked."

"Is how I burn cookies," Alina whispered behind him.

John glanced back. "While naked?"

Alina shook her head solemnly. "No. Burn when not naked. So now--always naked when bake. Much better result."

John just laughed, shaking his head. "Science at its finest."

They passed through sliding glass doors into the bedroom--a masterpiece of design. A circular bed sat elevated slightly in the center, wrapped in sheer white curtains that drifted with the breeze. Above it, a mirror stretched across the ceiling, catching glints of light like a voyeuristic moon.

"Subtle," John said dryly.

Gianna smirked. "Everything here is honest. The bed is bounce-rated. The curtains are tear-resistant. The mirror is shatterproof."

"You tested that too?" he asked, arching a brow.

"No," she replied smoothly. "But I've heard stories."

"From whom?"

"Elsa."

Alina raised a finger. "She break two bed already. Very bendy."

Gianna gave her a look. "She's also double-jointed."

Alina nodded thoughtfully. "And triple-booked."

John blinked. "Is that... a schedule or a warning?"

Gianna just smiled. "Yes."

The next room was a spa-like sanctuary. A deep soaking tub rested beneath a curved wall lined with candle alcoves, their soft light already casting a golden glow. Beyond it, a sauna paneled in cedar and eucalyptus exuded warmth. To the side, an outdoor rain shower opened to a stunning view of the ocean--glass walls, no shame.

"Sauna has two settings," Gianna said, gesturing with a glint in her eye. "Relaxing... and uninhibited."

John tilted his head. "What's the difference?"

"In the second one," she replied, her voice low and amused, "we don't bring towels."

Alina wiggled her fingers at him like casting a spell. "Also good place to play hide sausage."

John coughed. "You mean hide-and-seek?"

"No," she said sweetly.

Gianna exhaled a breath that was mostly suppressed laughter. "We're working on her phrasing."

Alina beamed. "No need. Everyone understand me. Especially sausage."

John cleared his throat and took a slow step back from the sauna door, doing his best to focus on the architecture--and not the images now playing in his head.

"Right," he said. "Sauna. Candles. Eucalyptus. Sausage."

Gianna arched a brow. "Losing focus already?"

"Nope," he lied. "Just... appreciating the craftsmanship."

Alina leaned closer, voice a playful whisper. "If you get too hot, outdoor shower is cold. Icy. Very fun, da?"

John kept his eyes on the rainfall shower head and not the suggestive sway of her hips. "Noted."

Gianna gave him a look both amused and faintly predatory. "You're doing remarkably well, considering."

"Considering what?" he asked, still pretending to admire the cedar panels.

"Considering most new arrivals are either stammering... or naked by now."

Alina giggled. "He can do both. We believe in you, John."

He exhaled through his nose, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I don't know if I'm surviving this tour... or failing it beautifully."

Gianna smirked. "There's no failing at Eden Cove resort, just surrender."

They stepped onto the rear deck--wide, pale stone leading down to a steaming, sunken jacuzzi framed by LED lights. Beyond that, a short path of polished wood led gently onto the softest sand John had ever seen. His very own private beach.

Alina dropped to her knees and scooped up a handful, letting it trickle through her fingers. "We fluff sand for you," she said proudly. "Is soft like tits."

Gianna made a sound that was half sigh, half stifled laugh. "Not the phrasing I'd use. But... accurate."

John just stared, speechless. "I don't even know what to say. This place is... insane."

"It's designed for your pleasure," Gianna said smoothly. "Total privacy. Total comfort. Total access."

"I might never leave."

"That's the idea."

Alina leaned in close, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "We bring food. Girls. Even meatballs. You no leave."

John looked at her, trying not to smile. "Meatballs? That's your closing argument?"

"Da," she said, deadly serious.

Gianna checked her slim watch, then turned to him with a warm, lingering smile. "I'll leave you to settle in. Alina can help you... get acquainted."

"Thanks for the tour," he said, still a little dazed.

Gianna's eyes glittered. "Thank me later--after the sand's in your sheets, and you stop caring how it got there."

She turned and walked away, hips swaying in that effortless rhythm that suggested she always knew exactly what came next.

Alina watched her go, then clapped her hands together. "Now. I clean."

"Didn't you already do that?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Jacuzzi look little... cloudy. Maybe dirty. Maybe was birds. Maybe I forget drain. I fix."

She gave him a wink and bent over to grab a bucket and sponge from a storage cabinet--her short skirt rising just enough to leave nothing to imagination.

John stood there for a moment, watching her hum softly to herself as she dipped a cloth into warm water, curves shifting beneath the strain of her top.

And just like that, the dream hadn't ended.

It was only beginning.

John leaned against the railing of the deck, the sea breeze rolling past him, heavy with salt and the scent of sun-warmed flowers. Below him, the faint hiss of the bubbling jacuzzi blended with the sound of the surf. The air was soft, golden. Everything felt... slowed. Like the island had its own rhythm.

Alina knelt at the edge of the sunken jacuzzi, humming something light and off-key as she dipped her cloth into the steaming water. Her skirt had crept up halfway across her thighs, inching higher each time she bent forward to reach another side. At first, John thought it was unintentional.

But then she arched her back slightly, gave a slow, playful wiggle, and glanced at him over her shoulder.

"You like da view, mm?" she said with a smirk, her accent thick and teasing.

He chuckled, folding his arms. "I was trying to be polite."

"Pff." She gave her hips another shimmy. "Is Eden Cove. Polite is boring."

The hem of her skirt rode up further, until it was clear she wore nothing underneath. Smooth skin caught the dappled light, the curve of her backside practically begging to be admired. And she knew it.

John stepped off the railing and approached slowly. "You always clean like that?"

"Only when someone watch," she said without missing a beat. "Jacuzzi get jealous if I clean alone."

He stopped behind her, close enough to feel the heat from her body mixing with the steam rising off the water.

"Maybe I should help," he murmured.

Alina looked back again, her smile soft and knowing. "Only if you use hands, not mop."

"Hands are good," he said, sliding his palms down her sides, finding the curve of her waist and the soft flare of her hips.

She sighed, low and pleased, still scrubbing the edge with lazy circles. "Mmm. You squeeze better now. Is maybe 9.2."

John's hands roamed gently, appreciating her confidence and softness, the way he leaned into her without ever pausing her work. It felt effortless. Natural. Like this was just what happened here. Banter and contact. Warm water and warmer skin. No tension, no guesswork.

"Maybe you distract me," she added, half-turning her head, her tone mock-accusing. "Now I clean very slow."

"I can live with that," John said.

"You not supposed to just live, silly," she giggled. "You enjoy."

He smiled, brushing her hair aside, tracing the curve of her spine with his fingertips.

The sun dipped lower, casting amber light across the deck. Steam rose between them. Behind her, the ocean sang to itself.

Alina shifted her hips, leaning a little further over the jacuzzi rim. "Still look cloudy," she said innocently. "Maybe you check? Maybe you look closer?"

John leaned in, resting one hand on the small of her back.

"Maybe I do."

Alina let out soft moan when she felt John's strong hands move over her small but curvy body. His fingers slide slow on the side of her hips, then come 'round, touch her belly--taut, smooth. She arched back a little, pressed her barely covered tush firm against the big bulge growing' in John's shorts.

"Mmm... you... how you say... bold man, da?" Alina purred, her voice thick and smoky, eyes half-close, turquoise dark with heat as she peeked back at him. "I like this... in man, very much."

Her lips, full and soft, made a slow smile as she reached her hand behind John, her fingers slide into his hair, gentle but hungry.

Alina let out a soft moan when John's finger went downwards. She bent her back, pushing her big bottom to him, slow, like an invitation.

"Mmm... John... you touch... is feel verry good... so good..." she said, voice low, a thick Russian tone.

She turned her head again, looking at him with her bright eyes, lips opened a little, with a smile--mischief inside.

"I think of you... all day. You hand... strong... big. I want it on me, da? You touch more."

She grabbed his hair, pulled him close, soft but firm.

"Show me... what hand do, mm? I want feel you. All of you. Inside, outside... all."

Alina gasped and shivered with pleasure as John's skilled fingers found her most sensitive spots. He circled her clit with teasing strokes before slowly pushing two digits inside her tight, wet heat. "Ahhh... da... like this... just like this...," she breathed huskily, rocking her hips to take him deeper.

Her inner walls fluttered and clenched around John's invading fingers as he began to pump them in and out at a steady rhythm. The obscene squelching sounds of her arousal filled the air, mixing with her breathy moans. Alina's head fell back against John's shoulder, her double buns coming undone as silky blonde locks tumbled down her back.

She reached a hand up to tangle in John's hair, tugging lightly as the intense sensations built between her thighs. "Mmmm... fuck... you feel so good... inside me... so good, da..."

Alina turned in John's embrace, pressing her lithe body flush against his as she captured his lips in a searing kiss. Her pillowy lips moved hungrily against his, tongue delving into his mouth to twine with his own. Soft mewls of desire escaped her as the kiss deepened, stoking the flames of her arousal higher.

At the same time, nimble fingers worked at the tie of John's shorts, quickly loosening the knot. The fabric slid down his muscular thighs, freeing his rigid cock, which sprang up to slap against his abs. Alina broke the kiss to gaze down at his impressive length, licking her glossy lips.

"Oooh... myyy... what you have here... is very big, da? So... impressive..." she cooed, voice thick with Russian purr, eyes wide with playful hunger.

Alina wrapped her delicate hand around John's throbbing shaft, marveling at the weight and heat of it. She stroked him slowly, thumb swirling around the leaking tip to spread the bead of precum. Her bright turquoise eyes locked with his, heavy-lidded and smoldering with barely restrained lust.

"You like, da? I see it... you want me much...," Alina purred, voice deep and sultry, gave his cock a firm squeeze that made her smirk widen. She continued her sensual ministrations, pumping him from base to tip with a twisting motion. The sight of her creamy skin contrasting against his flushed, straining erection was incredibly erotic.

Then she leaned in close, lips right at his ear, breath warm like fire as her tongue traced soft over the edge, whispering hotly, "I want... mmm... taste all of you. You let me, da? I worship this cock... with mouth, with tongue... like you never feel before."

Alina sank gracefully to her knees on the plush poolside mat, maintaining eye contact with John as she brought her face level with his jutting erection. Without breaking their heated gaze, she extended her small pink tongue and gave the swollen head a long, slow lick, savoring the salty-sweet essence of his arousal.

"Mmmm... you taste... mmm... is divine, da..." Alina murmured, lips shiny, voice thick with heat and her Russian purr. "So warm... so good... I like very much..." before parting her plump lips and taking him into the wet cavern of her mouth. She engulfed several inches of his thick shaft, suckling gently as her tongue undulated along the underside. Her head bobbed steadily, taking him deeper each time until the tip nudged the back of her throat.

Slender fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking what she couldn't fit past her stretched lips.

Alina took a deep breath through her nose before relaxing her throat and pushing forward, swallowing John's entire length until her button nose nestled against his pelvis. She held him there, deep in her convulsing esophagus, turquoise eyes watering slightly but gleaming with triumphant lust as she gazed up at him.

Her throat muscles rippled and massaged his sensitive flesh as she maintained the position, one hand coming up to gently cup and massage his heavy balls. After a long moment, Alina pulled back, gasping and coughing lightly as she caught her breath. A strand of saliva connected her shiny lips to his spit-shined cock.

"Da, that's it... mmm, let me take care of you, baby..." she cooed, breath all shaky, voice raspy with lust. "Your big... thick cock... feel good... stretching bad little throat..."

Alina dove back in enthusiastically, wrapping her lips around John's throbbing shaft once more. She set a vigorous pace, head bobbing up and down as she alternated between taking him deep and focusing on the sensitive head with quick flicks of her tongue. At the same time, her hand pumped the slick base of his cock in tandem with her oral movements.

"Mmmph... mmm..." Moaning around his thickness, the vibrations added another layer of stimulation. Alina's free hand slid up to knead John's firm ass, pulling him closer as she deepthroated him again and again. Drool leaked from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down her chin and onto her heaving cleavage peeking out from her skimpy top.

Alina released John's cock from her mouth with a lewd pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his slick tip. She immediately began trailing open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, lavishing attention on every throbbing inch. Her small pink tongue darted out to lap at the sensitive juncture where cock met balls before she took one heavy orb into her mouth, suckling gently.

"Mmm... you taste good... everywhere..." Alina purred, voice muffled as her lips pressed close to his groin, thick with heat and hunger. "Mmm... I not get enough of you, da..." She switched to his other testicle, rolling it on her tongue as her fingers continued to stroke his spit-shined cock. Her lips blazed a path of fire along his inner thighs, teeth grazing the tender skin. Alina nuzzled into his musky scent, drinking it in greedily.

Alina sauntered over to a nearby pool lounger, her hips swaying seductively. She reclined back on the cushioned surface, propping herself up on her elbows. With a coy smile playing about her glossy lips, the Russian beauty slowly parted her thighs, giving John an enticing view of her glistening sex.

"No panties today, da?" Alina giggle, naughty and light, finger sliding slow along her wet folds. "I think maybe... I need easy access, mm? And now look--you here... with this big, hard cock, just begging to go inside..."

She crooked a finger at John, turquoise eyes smoldering with invitation, full of heat.

"Come... take what yours, handsome, so wet... so ready for you, da..."

Alina's breath hitched as John stepped closer, her thighs parting just a little more in open invitation. She looked up at him through her lashes, voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Yes... please... I want feel you... inside, da? Give to me... make me feel full..."

Alina shivered in anticipation as she felt the blunt head of John's cock nudging insistently at her dripping entrance. Her slick folds parted eagerly, coating his tip with her abundant arousal. "Mmm... slow first, da? I want feel every inch..." she whimpered needy, tilting her hips up in silent plea.

Alina reached down, fingers sliding to spread herself more open--wet, glistening pink on full show. The air heavy now, thick with the smell of her need.

"Don't tease me too much, da?" she begged, voice rough and shaking, eyes wide and dark with hungry fire as she looked up at him.

"I need you... now. Inside me... fill me all way... I want feel you deep... so deep..."

Her small chest rose and fell with every sharp breath, nipples hard under the thin top, pressing through like they were begging too. "Please, John... no more wait... take me..."

Alina cried out in ecstasy as John plunged his thick cock deep into her aching core with one powerful thrust. "AAHHH YESSS!" Her velvety walls clamped down tightly, gripping him like a vice as he stretched and filled her so perfectly. Sparks of electric pleasure radiated out from where they were joined, making her toes curl.

"Ohh... Bozhe... yes, yes--fuck!" Alina babbled incoherently, back arching off the lounger as John started up a hard, fast rhythm. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoed through the air, punctuated by Alina's wanton moans and the creaking of the furniture. Her nails raked down John's back, leaving red welts in their wake as she urged him on.

"Harder... faster, da! Don't stop--don't stop!"

Alina saw stars as John pounded into her relentlessly, his thick cock hammering her G-spot with pinpoint accuracy. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves of mind-numbing pleasure radiating through her trembling body. ""OH FUCK, DA! RIGHT THERE--don't stop!" she cried out, voice raw with ecstasy, shaking with pleasure,

"Is so good... you hit just right, bozhe moy!"

Her voluptuous body bounced and jiggled with the force of John's pistoning hips, pert breasts threatening to spill out of her straining top. Alina locked her ankles around John's waist, heels digging into the small of his back as she pulled him impossibly deeper. The wet squelch of her copious arousal filled the air, mingling with the carnal symphony of their coupling.

"Mmmmph... you so deep... inside me..." she moaned, voice thick and trembling,

"I feel you... all way... everywhere, da..."

John reached down and rubbed Alina's clit while continuing to pound into her hard and fast.

Alina cried out, her body trembling as John's fingers found her clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. "Ahh... da... just like that! Don't stop... is so good..." she gasped, hips rocking against him, breath shaky.

Her eyes fluttered, voice rising with each stroke. "I'm so close... I want come for you, John... please... do it... just like this... da... just like this..."

Her inner walls started to quiver and clench erratically around John's plunging shaft, drawing him in even tighter. Alina's whole body tensed, back bowing almost painfully as the coil of tension in her core winded tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Alina's entire world narrowed down to the exquisite sensations radiating from where John was pounding into her and rubbing her clit. Her voluptuous body writhed and bucked wildly beneath him, lost to the overwhelming pleasure. ""Ahhh... bozhe moy! I... I'm coming...!" Alina cried out, voice trembling, body tightening around him.

"So hard... I feel it... inside, everywhere--da, da, so good!""

Her scream of rapture echoed across the pool area as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Alina's pussy clamped down viciously on John's pistoning shaft, rippling and fluttering as it tried to milk him for all he was worth. Clear fluid gushed out around his cock, soaking his balls and thighs, as she came harder than she ever had before.

"Yes... yes... daaa, daaa, YEEESSS!" Alina chanted deliriously, voice shaking, eyes glossy as tears of bliss streaming down her face. "So much... too good... I feel everything..."

John continued thrusting through Alina's intense orgasm, prolonging her pleasure before finally burying himself to the hilt and releasing deep inside her, with a low, shuddering groan."

Alina's eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy as she felt John hilting himself fully inside her, his thick cock pulsing and twitching as he emptied his heavy load directly into her greedy womb. "Ohh... bozhe moy, yes... Fill me... all the way... make me yours, da...", she cried out, relishing the sensation of his hot seed painting her insides.

Her pussy milked him for every last drop, rippling and squeezing his spurting shaft as if trying to wring out even more of his potent cum. Alina's entire body shuddered and convulsed through the aftershocks, juices gushing out around John's embedded cock to create a lewd puddle on the lounger beneath them.

"Mmmm... so good," she slurred dazedly, going limp and pliant beneath him.

John collapsed gently on top of Alina, both of them breathless, their chests rising and falling in sync as the warmth of their connection settled around them. After a long, quiet moment, he rolled to the side and drew her close, her curvy frame molding perfectly against his sweat-dampened skin.

"That was... incredible, Alina," he murmured, his voice husky as he buried his face in her soft, tousled hair. "You feel wonderful. Like you were made for me."

Alina melted bonelessly against John's firm body, reveling in the delicious ache between her thighs and the comforting weight of him draped over her. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sex and masculinity that clung to his skin. "Mmmm, you not bad so too, handsome," she purred, voice low and playful, tracing idle patterns on his chest with a fingertip.

She nestled her face into the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed him in--scent of skin, heat, and something that felt like belonging.

"Your big, strong body... you hold me so good. And da... I never feel this before. You make me feel..." she paused, lips curling into a drowsy smirk, "like lucky girl." Alina confessed dreamily, a satisfied smirk playing about her kiss-swollen lips.

She shifted languidly, enjoying the way his softening member slipped out of her with a gush of combined fluids, and chuckled softly. "Oops... I think you leave part of you inside, da? I not mind... I like it." Her voice was teasing, but her smile was sweet as she pressed a kiss to his collarbone.

John let out a low chuckle, eyes drifting down to the mess between Alina's thighs. A smug grin spreading across his face as he brushed his fingers gently along her hip. "Guilty as charged," he murmured, voice rich with amusement and lingering desire. "Couldn't help it... you're just too tempting, Alina."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. His tongue moved with slow confidence, tasting her as if he never wanted to stop. When he finally pulled away, his breath was warm against her mouth.

"Mmm... you taste even better than I imagined," he whispered, eyes half-lidded, lips still brushing hers. "Sweet like honey... and twice as addictive. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you... krasavitsan."

Alina froze for a half-second, then snorted softly against his chest, laughter bubbling up like champagne, then lifted her head just enough to give him an amused, squinting glare. "Krasavitsa," she corrected, drawing out the syllables with dramatic clarity. "Not krasavitsan. What that--some Dutch-Russian hybrid? You invent new language now?"

John chuckled, clearly unbothered, brushing a kiss to her temple.

"Well, if I did, I'd name it after you anyway."

Alina rolled her eyes, but her smirk betrayed her pleasure. She snuggled closer, her voice a little softer now. "You mess up word, but... I like how you say it. Only for me, da?"

"Only for you," he murmured, holding her close. "My little krasavitsa."

The villa had quieted into a tranquil hush. Only the soft shush of waves teasing the shore broke the silence. John lay back, arms curled behind his head, Alina sprawled beside him, her leg draped lazily over his. Their bodies still glowed from what they'd just shared.

He turned his head slightly, brushing a knuckle along her jaw.

"So... are you staying the night?"

Alina smiled sleepily, cheek still pressed to his chest.

"Mmm... of course I stay. You forget already?" She lazily lifted her gold name tag off the nightstand and gave it a little twirl on one finger.

"Private room service, da? I belong to you... all night. All week. All time."

John grinned.

"Good. Wasn't ready to let you go anyway."

"You think I want go?" Alina scoffed playfully, lifting her head to kiss his collarbone.

"You cuddle like big warm bear. Strong arms... soft bed... and no pants. I stay."

They lay together like that for a while longer, sunk into a delicious haze of comfort and warmth, until John shifted and sat up slightly, brushing a hand over her waist.

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the bedroom. "Let's move this to the main event."

Alina raised a brow.

"Another round?"

"No," he chuckled, "the bed."

The bedroom was breathtaking. A king-sized stretch of mattress and pillows so massive it looked almost comical in its luxury--like it was made to host an entire football team, or at least a man with a very indulgent lifestyle.

"Bozhe moy..." Alina murmured as she padded into the center of the bed and flopped onto her back, limbs spread.

"This bed is not for sleep. Is for rolling, for wrestling, for maybe three or four girls, da?"

"Tonight?" John said as he slid in beside her, "Just us. Just cuddles."

"You sure?" she teased, "We already warm... sheets already messy..."

He pulled her into his arms, her body fitting snugly against his. The silk sheets were cool, but her skin was hotter, flushed, and sweet from recent ecstasy. She rested her cheek against his chest, one hand drawing lazy circles on his stomach.

"You smell like salt and sin," she murmured, voice drowsy.

"Your fault," he whispered, brushing her hair from her face.

"Mmm... da... and proud little thing for you," she whispered with a smirk, eyes already fluttering shut. "You make me like this..."

Just as sleep began to pull them under, a faint double chime cut through the calm.

Beep. Beep.

John blinked one eye open. His Apple Watch Ultra 3 glowed softly from the nightstand. A message scrolled across the screen:

07:00 - Sunrise Start: Personal Surprise Awaiting on Private Beach

Tap to Confirm Attendance

Alina groaned into his neck.

"Is too early for beach. Too early for anything."

John tapped the screen, smiling.

"Surprise sounds like it's worth it. It could be coffee. There could be a massage. Maybe even naked yoga."

"If is naked yoga, I stay under blanket," Alina grumbled, eyes still closed.

"What if it's naked coffee and yoga?"

"Then I need two coffee, da?"

John laughed softly and tightened his arm around her as they finally drifted off--wrapped in warmth, tangled in sheets, and blissfully unaware of the spicy surprises waiting with the morning tide.