Quest for the Pink Pearl


Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, .

Desc: Sex Story: Our hero has been on a quest for years. The Pink Pearl is reputed to confer great happiness and wealth. He's got the directions, it's gotta be around here somewhere?

All was lost.

Scandal. Failure. He raised his hand to his forehead. Anything to ease the incessant pounding in his head of advancing doom.

Dr. Ronald Pencraft Smythe-Wilkins acknowledged the many nods and greetings directed at him as he crossed the lobby. Smythe-Wilkins, considered by many as one of the greatest archaeologists of the modern era, walked in the stoic manner of a man going to his execution. Last night he had stood before a great assemblage of peers and patrons honoring him for his recent discovery of Gon-al-Tway? Yet from this great height of fame, he had fallen. Fallen to the deepest depths of depression.

Scandal. He could still smell her scent on his fingers. A fragrance more intoxicating then any drink. In the midst of this gathering darkness; it was the lone bright spot: her arousal, her need, and most magnificently, her yielding to him. A smile tried to form on his face and failed. What did it matter anymore?

Failure. That was the word that droned endlessly in the background of his thought. There was no doubt that the discoveries of Gon-al-Tway would cement his position in the pantheon of modern archaeology. The excavations alone would take decades. And yet - failure; he had not found the Pink Pearl nor its treasure.

That damned Pearl! This expedition was, in all likelihood, the last one his sponsor and good friend Lord Nonesuch would ever fund. It was Nonesuch who had financed the three previous expeditions. It was Nonesuch who had first told him of the Pearl. And it was Nonesuch's unrelenting enthusiasm to mount a serious scholarly search for the Pearl that Smythe-Wilkins had ridden to the top of his profession.

For what?

Ronald had not put much thought into the search for the Pearl until an innocent accident had changed everything. He had been toiling in Lord Nonesuch's library, working on a fresh translation of Archovean texts, when an assistant had spilled a cup of black tea on one of the texts. Well aware that any efforts to wipe or blot the tea might remove the ink used on the Archovean texts Smythe-Wilkins had decided to let the sheet of text dry overnight. The next morning, he checked the frail paper for damage by using the rising sun to backlight it. He was surprised to see faint writing beneath the Archovean script.

The faint writing seemed to be a more ancient iteration of Archovean. As he examined the revealed writing, Ronald was shaken to his very core. The text spoke of a Pink Pearl and of an indescribable treasure. The new translation went slowly but gradually a set of directions seemed to emerge. The directions were unusual and somewhat confusing in that they seemed overly vague. They seemed to imply that the Pearl, though well hidden, was easily found if looked for at the right time. Ronald had been so sure this time. It was if the Pearl had been in his grasp and now it was gone.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase of the Osso-Sheik Hotel his hand came to rest on the cold marble ball of the handrail. It's round fullness filled his palm in an all too familiar way; it's hard coolness in stark contrast to her soft warmth.

Caroline Nonesuch, just 26 years old, was the youngest daughter of Lord Nonesuch. She had been a child of twelve or thirteen when Ronald had first met her father. Caroline had shown great interest in the field of Archaeology from an early age and was a noted translator of ancient texts in her own right. Never the less, Ronald had been less then enthusiastic when Lord Nonesuch informed him that Caroline would represent her father on this most recent expedition.

Ronald had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Caroline was in fact just as capable and insightful in the field as she had demonstrated in her studies. She had that intuitive quality that was essential for a good field archaeologist. Ronald and Caroline had even discussed the possibility of future collaborations. However, given the events of last night Ronald wouldn't be surprised if he never saw her again.

In the afterglow of acclaim at last night's party Ronald and Caroline had enjoyed many a toast - too many evidently. While catching some fresh air they had found themselves sitting side-by-side as the full moon rose over the bay. Caroline had whispered something that Ronald had not heard clearly and as he turned to her - their lips met. The effect was explosive and overwhelming.

Ronald lost control of his self-discipline and any sense of social correctness. He rained passionate kisses on Caroline's mouth, neck, and shoulders. She had not resisted him in anyway and within moments, the top of her gown yielded as Ronald fondled her full breasts. His hand was high up between her legs, his fingers deep within her when a "cough" announced the presence of their host and hostess, the Duke and Duchess of Worthington.

The scandalized expression on Dame Worthington's face at finding the pair was not lessened when Ronald stood to apologize. The tented front of his trousers was damning. Sir Geoffrey Worthington had quickly pulled him aside and given him time to re-compose himself as Dame Worthington had escorted Caroline away. Ronald did not see Caroline the rest of the evening.

Throughout the night he rode a roller-coaster of emotion; pride of acclaim, despair of his indiscretion, the ecstasy of her touch, and the loss of the Pearl.

Scandal. Failure. Disgrace. Ronald opened the door of his room and stepped inside. He closed it quietly behind him as if closing the door on his future. Lord Nonesuch would accept the failure of finding the Pearl as a simple fact. He might even understand the events of last night. Ronald entertained no illusions about Lady Nonesuch's reactions; she would not be understanding in the least. He wanted nothing more then to enjoy a cool drink and the sunrise.

"What are you doing here?" Framed in the balcony doorway, the sun rising behind her, Caroline Nonesuch stood bathed in golden glory - and nothing else. She stood there in glorious golden nakedness; a shaft of golden light shown through the intimate gap between her thighs. "My God Caroline - please!"

Caroline walked slowly towards the great archaeologist. Though he was a man eleven years her senior, she was in control and knew it. She smiled as he backed up against the door. Last night had confirmed for Caroline what she had long yearned for - that Ronald was as hot for her as she for him. She was not going to allow the opportunity to pass.

Ronald felt the familiar dizziness of desire that occurred all too often whenever Caroline was near. That nearness, combined with her nakedness was more then he could resist.

"Caroline - please. If anybody saw you come in here..." Ronald felt a flush of heat, not unlike Dengue fever, wash over him. "After what happened last night your parents will be so very disappointed - in the both of us. We owe them..."

"This isn't about my mother or my father Ronald. Do you really think it was you who took advantage of me last night? Do you really think that I wasn't aware of what was happening?"

"Er, what?" Ronald's self discipline was crumbling in direct proportion to the hardening of his cock. He thought of the consequences if he didn't regain control of the situation right now. Unfortunately, the events of the previous evening clouded his judgment, not to mention, any remaining ability he possessed to resist her.

"All of these years, all of this effort - and what to show for it?" Caroline placed her hands upon his chest and began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

" Caroline!" Ronald summoned the last reserves of his sense of propriety, "I accept complete responsibility for my atrocious behavior last night. I took advantage of you when we were both tired and had too much drink... and... and."

Caroline bent forward and kissed the exposed skin of his chest - he shivered and moaned. He felt her naked body press gently against his clothed erection.

"Poor Ronald, if you'd only known to look in the right place." She pushed his shirt off his shoulders but left it tangled around his elbows. She unbuckled his belt and pulled it out through the loops.

As his pants fell to his ankles, Ronald made a final effort to stop the avalanche of desire that threaten to sweep all before it away.

"Caroline." His voice was so thick with desire that it sounded like a strangled croak. "What do you mean -ohhhh (Caroline's hand brushed along the length of his cock) - not looking - ahhhh -looking in the- ohhhh - right place."

Caroline stepped slowly back until she felt the wing back chair with the backs of her knees. She sat with her back straight at looked Ronald directly in his eyes. Her hands slid out to her knees and then slowly pushed her legs apart. Ronald felt as if he was going to spontaneously ejaculate at any moment.

"My poor formal Ronald - always so very correct, so very proper, and so very, very literal." Caroline smiled as she repeated the translated directions to the location of the Pink Pearl.

"Two mountains fair though seldom seen -

twin peaks await their conqueror."

Caroline slowly traced around her breasts circling in to her nipples. She brushed her fingertips across them until they were taut and hard.

"Below them spreads a fertile plain

Across it lightly wander."

She zig-zagged her fingers down across her ribs, over the toned surface of her abdomen, past her naval.

"Through thicket deep or smooth expanse

Once there alone will tell

Her left hand moved slowly through the golden tangle of her pubic hair. He right hand trailed over the smooth bulge of her swollen labia.

'Tween thick or thin, and deep within -

As sweet as any well.

.... There is more of this story ...

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