Tropical heat raises more than the temperature for an adventurous guy hell-bent on heavenly satisfaction.

Spring is the time of renewal, or so they say. Green things begin growing again — the first leafy stirrings after the bleakness of winter. The world comes alive once more, tentatively at first, as uncertain as a newborn deer.

But summer, to me, has always been the truest time of living. After spring has restored the rightness of things, here comes summer, with its sweat, its swagger, its seething sense of seasonal immortality. Summer is life everlasting!

I was in need of some sizzle, having lived through a dreary, wintry patch. My career had been successful but taxing nevertheless. Worse still, my love life had stumbled through a series of romantic missteps — one after the other, woman after woman. Things had gone cold for me, and my spirit had withered on the vine.

But with summer setting in, I knew my fortunes would change. I had plenty of vacation time and had the means to send myself just about anywhere I liked.

What I liked was the tropics.

I flew myself to a sweltering latitude, a zone of rich heat and vibrant color. I didn’t give a damn that it was off-season, that people normally went there in the northerly winter months. The hotter, the better for me. That was exactly how I wanted it. I would sweat away the blues and recharge myself in the searing sunshine.

I also hoped to get myself some hassle-free pussy. My cock had its needs, too.

Though I hadn’t been to that particular destination before, I’ve always had a long-abiding love for tropical realms, and I’d had the type of escape I was craving before.

In my second year of college I’d scraped together enough to get myself to Hawaii. I had been killing myself, working for that business degree. At the time, school was simply frying my brain. I needed a break. My body was brimming with the juices of life, and I desperately wanted to pump some of that juice into a willing woman.

As I recall, I didn’t even bother booking a room. I couldn’t really afford one, to be honest. Instead, I stashed my bag in an airport locker after changing into swimwear, then I hitchhiked to a beach. Everything was so exotic. The trees were strange but beautiful. The air was as warm as a drawn bath.

When I was finally walking on the sunbaked sand, the colors assailed me: vividly blue sky, sparkling emerald water and the dazzling variations of skin and hair tones on the barely clad women strewn along the shore and bobbing in the waters. The girls ran and splashed and laughed, and I gawked at them, probably somewhat idiotically. Even so, many smiled back at me. There was a general sense of camaraderie — and abandon.

I swam, got a meal and made a few friends among the other college-age folks who’d gone there for a break. A great giddiness filled me as the burdens of study were forgotten. It was summer, and I was living in the moment, vivacious and thriving.

Some of my new pals invited me to a party. They had a suite in one of the hotels. When I showed up after retrieving some appropriate clothes from my airport locker, the shindig was in full swing. People were dancing and mingling. A festive feeling filled the air.

During the bash, I met a girl who introduced herself as Vivia. She was a sweet thing, with a pretty face and a perfectly toned body. We hung out awhile, making small talk, as a current began to flow between us. Feeling charged, we switched to flirting, and that went well.

“Hey, Dirk,” she said with a coy smile. “Want to go for a walk?”

I hoped to hell that was a euphemism. I also hoped she had a room. I’d said nothing to anybody about my poor man’s holiday. I was too embarrassed to mention it.

Vivia and I went strolling in the moonlight. A gentle breeze blew, without a hint of chill. People were still frolicking on the beach, but as we got further away from the hotel, the crowds thinned out and gradually disappeared. Waves gently slapped the shoreline. Vivia and I held hands, and that in and of itself was a thrill for me.

When she tugged my hand, halting me and looked up a little shyly, I moved to kiss her. I didn’t rush the moment. It was, frankly, a perfect kiss, just intimate enough, and leaving me with a lingering warmth. Her fingertips grazed my cheek.

“You’re nice, Dirk.”

“You’re nice, too, Vivia.” Romance postcard dialogue. But I was being totally sincere, and I knew she was, too. There was a good vibe between us.

We walked on, me now with my arm around her. I felt the wiry reality of her body against mine. She’d mentioned being a swimmer. She certainly had a swimmer’s form. Out on the slowly rolling ocean, the moon shimmered and danced. A bright pearl of light in the sky was Venus. Everything was beautiful — Vivia especially.

Once we were far away from the hotel and its people, she paused again.

“Want to go for a swim?” she asked, a tantalizing note in her voice.

“I didn’t bring trunks.”

“Good.” Her grin was as bright as the starlight.

What followed was like something from a movie — or a dream. She started to strip, and I followed suit. Her body became bare, and my excitement rose. Somehow, I managed not to have too blatant of a hard-on by the time I was naked. Once fully undressed, we scampered out into the rolling surf.

Even with the night, the water was warm. We swam out amid the languid waves. Her flesh glistened alongside mine — her back, her calves, her ripe butt. We romped through the water as innocent as dolphins. But after a short while, we returned to the shore.

Then we wandered to a nearby stand of trees. Fronds undulated over us, like the fans employed by a sultan’s servants. Without words we lay down together on the sand. We kissed again, but this time it was urgent and needy. She pressed her body against me. Her hands moved over me, and I touched her in turn. Her back, her upper arm, a breast. She purred with pleasure.

I remember rolling on that sand. I remember her agile movements. None of it felt rushed, despite our speedy actions. We both knew what we wanted and had found a pleasing, pleasant partner. There would be no repercussions from our encounter, I sensed instinctively. No regrets, no recriminations.

The sky sighed overhead. The ocean breathed and pulsated. I went down on her, eating her pussy with ferocious glee. I recall the bright delight I felt when she came, her juices spilling down my chin. She reciprocated, riding her sweet mouth up and down my cock, taking me not quite to the brink but to an erotic plateau where I could view my inevitable orgasm.

Then she was on top of me, impaling herself on my shaft and bucking on me. She was still damp from the swim, her hair clinging to her shoulders and the upper slopes of her firm breasts. Like some carnal sea creature who had come to take her pleasures from a land-bound male, she rode me to her climax.

But I wasn’t done. We shifted; we bustled. Then I was on top of her, slamming home into her welcoming cunt. Joy was tuned to some shrieking frequency, and it rang in my ears, climbing and climbing, until it burst all through me. In that moment I realized I was coming with a fury I’d never known before. I jizzed hard into her, and she came along for that final orgasmic jaunt as well, squealing underneath me.

And afterward? No regrets, no promises. Just soft kisses and a slow walk back to the hotel. One of my new friends offered me his bed to sleep in because he was going off with an Ivy League coed he’d met, and I had the vacation of a lifetime.

A couple days later, I flew out and headed back to my studies. But I was restored, and I had Vivia to thank for it.

I needed something like that on this trip. I was different from the college-age dude I’d been back then, but our needs weren’t so far apart. Nor were they so drastic. I was just hoping for some carnal bliss with a suitable woman in a glamorous tropical setting. Was that so much to ask?

Well, I had the scenery I desired. The locale was like Hawaii on steroids. The colorings were fantastically intense. Vegetation grew everywhere, in shades I never would have expected: indigo, scarlet, azure. There were vines and fronds and blossoms erupting wherever I looked. Nature perfumed the air, which was thick and sultry but also stirred by merciful breezes.

The vaulting sky was insanely clear, so much so it seemed to play tricks with my perceptions. I’d glance up and see it as a photonegative, the pale skull of the daytime half-moon appearing as onyx against an amber sky.

And the waters … ah, like liquid crystal, softly nibbling the sandy shore.

I had luxury accommodations in a mostly empty hotel. It occurred to me that I may have shorted myself after all by coming in the off-season. With so few guests, I was limiting my possibilities for female companionship. But the tropical languor allowed me to shrug off that worry. All would work out. The gods and goddesses of summer would bestow their blessing on so faithful a supplicant as myself.

However, that first night proved to be anticlimactic. I visited the lobby bar, where a lone pianist was mostly ignored by two groups of elderly patrons. I went for a long stroll on the beach and might as well have been walking on the moon. Beautiful scenery, but I was utterly on my own. I was tired from my flight. I went to my room and got alone into bed. I told myself I would regroup following day.

I did just that. This place of tropical splendor had sights: old ruins, from some vigorous preindustrial culture. I acquired a rattling old rental car and went in search of them, determined to enjoy myself.

It worked, more or less. I got lost, had colorful exchanges with locals, bought a saloon full of fishermen-types beers, stayed to sing a few songs, then went up into the purple hills, along unfamiliar roads.

The ruins were spectacular. Even without a background in archaeology I could appreciate their majesty. Huge blocks of hewn stone, worn by centuries. Stairs cut into pyramids. A moss blanket of soft green overlaying everything. There wasn’t anyone else around — or so I’d thought.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Startled, I turned around and saw a lovely woman. Her attractiveness caught my breath. She was dressed for the heat and rugged terrain. But she definitely was not a local. She was an import like me.

“It is,” I agreed eagerly. “I’m Dirk.”

“Helena,” she replied.

Helena knew those ruins. She’d wanted to visit them for years and was savoring her dream come true. She told me she was working on a book about archeological finds.

“Sounds like a better life’s work than what I do.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

I told her about my position with my financial firm, and she said, “Hey, someone’s got to keep the wheels turning. Be proud of what you do, Dirk.”

She nodded toward a set of ancient steps and said, “Come on. Let’s go up.”

With that she put out her hand. Surprised but delighted, I took it. She had callused fingertips but a soft palm. The small contact between us felt inordinately intimate. Giddily, I climbed with her.

The antique structure rose and rose, then flattened on the top. A bed of moss covered the plateau. The views were amazing, all around. I looked and turned, turned and looked. It was several minutes before I came around to where Helena was standing.

She’d just finished unbuttoning her shirt. As I gaped, she shrugged it off. Her bare breasts were full and high, tipped with coral nipples, which were already swollen. Her mouth twisted into a grin that was both coy and devilish. She started undoing her khaki trousers.

“If you don’t start stripping, Dirk, I’m going to be standing here naked all by myself.”

I hastened to catch up with her, to catch up with the incredible reality which was unfolding before me. I knew only enough about this woman to be intrigued by her. I’d seen enough to be very drawn to her. I had already planned to ask her to dinner at the hotel. But none of that was necessary. Maybe she didn’t have time for all that fuss. Maybe she was just away from home and horny like me.

My cock was growing as I shucked out of the last of my clothes. Helena’s eyes riveted themselves to my shaft as I came to full glory. Her eyes widened noticeably, and her smile got naughtier.

I, too, drank in the sight of her. Nothing about her disappointed. She was trim without being scrawny. Her proportions were ideal. Her hips flared, her thighs were smooth. As she turned slightly I saw how firm the globes of her ass were. Her pussy mound was hairless, and the cleft of her gleamed with the dampness of arousal.

We moved into each other’s arms. Her skin was slick with sweat. She’d probably been poking around those ruins for hours. We were on top of the site’s tallest structure, so no one on the ground could see us. I wasn’t worried about anyone climbing up there, either. There’d been no one else around earlier. Besides, I was utterly consumed with that woman. Nobody else mattered.

Our mouths met. Her lips spread, and our tongues emerged. I took that first sweet taste of her. She kissed with ferocity. She jammed her body hard against mine. I was thrilled by her physique, by the softness of her breasts as she thrust them toward me.

My hands roamed her slippery back. The sun was streaming down on us, as if through a giant magnifying glass. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. The heat only added to my rising delight, giving energy to my desire. Tropical summer was aflame all around us.

I groped her ass. The twin spheres were springy. She wriggled against me and caressed my chest. Her hand moved lower, between our pressing bodies. I groaned with pleasure as she unceremoniously seized my cock. She squeezed me, and the sensations she triggered rippled all through me. I felt sweat on my face and my back. A lovely haze crept in from the edges of my vision.

I, too, got a hand between us. I slipped it between her thighs and traced her slick groove. I flicked a fingertip along her pussy lips, and she shivered in response.

By silent assent, we lay down together on the moss. It was remarkably soft, with the thickness of a comforter. No skinned knees or banged elbows for us. We had a natural bed!

Still in a mutual embrace, we rolled about on that bed as our kiss deepened, becoming something exploratory, eager and intense. I wanted to know this woman, even if we were forgoing all the minutiae of detailed personal information. I would gain my knowledge through our bodies. We would communicate on a purely carnal channel. The gain was high, the frequency wide open and receptive.

She grasped me again, her grip almost proprietary. She set about jacking my cock with expert motions. An appreciative shudder shook me. I delved into her pussy again more deliberately, sinking two fingers to the second knuckle in her. I stirred her slick interior. Her clit jumped to life, and I coaxed and caressed it. Such an eager little bud it was, swelling and needy.

I had to taste her. The urge overwhelmed me, and I fairly wrenched out of her grip to slide down between her legs, my face falling into place at the shaved swell of her mound. My veins roared with lust, and the sun basted my back.

I put my mouth on her. Her flavor was potent and delicious. I raked my tongue tip up and down her furrow, which was spilling over with juices. When I fully probed within, I encountered the hard nub of her clit again. My tongue was prepared to deal with it.

I bathed it. I batted it. I gave it the worship it deserved. She growled and pushed her pussy harder against my face. I only ate her more eagerly. Her silken thighs closed over the sides of my head. Her ass was lifting off the mossy ground as she humped my mouth and came.

Her juice coursed down my throat, searing her lovely taste into my memory. I raised my head, gasping and catching my breath. But I didn’t get much of a rest. Suddenly, she was manhandling me and positioning me. I found myself roughly maneuvered onto my back and somewhat dazed. Her shoulders pushed apart my thighs, and I felt her hot breath on my swollen cockhead.

I looked down as she engulfed me. It was a beautiful sight, at least as awe-inspiring as the exotic ruins. The ring of her mouth dropped straight down my shaft, without pause. In a heartbeat, she had deep-throated me.

From there she set off at a steady, insistent rhythm. Her head bobbed up and down. She went all the way with every plunge, her forehead touching my abdomen on each downstroke. I felt her chin against my roiling balls. Her tongue worked my staff, never tiring. Her cheeks flattened around me, and the suction was exquisite.

I fell up into the dreamy whirling sky. There were clouds at last, but the sun was still roaring. I was awash in pleasure, but she sensed my limits.

Helena pulled away her mouth and vaulted onto me. In no time, her feet were planted on either side of me, and she was lowering her pussy onto my cock. As I slammed up into her, I saw her whole body undulate like a cracking whip.

She let loose a raw cry that echoed around us. She scampered crazily on me, riding me like a maddened jockey. Her gorgeous tits bounced and her knees flexed rapidly. I watched, enthralled, as the orgasmic event overtook her. She went too fast for me to catch up, but I didn’t mind. Ecstasy broke across her face and swept down her luscious body. It seemed to touch every part of her, wrenching delight from her very being.