Worship Island

Wrapped in a dark green silky dress, Amara floated around the glittery room with a glass of wine, hating every step she took with those chunky heels - yet keeping her smile. Parties this fancy were not a common occurrence in her life, especially not a destination wedding in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, but here it was worth it: her friends Diego and Danielle were tying the knot after 5 years together, and the wedding had been craftfully planned as a full week of activities in the island of Açores as a digital detox + wedding + nature trip for a group of 30 friends. Having been told one year in advance, Amara had all the time to plan and prepare herself for this island getaway and deeply needed digital detox and tried to keep her mind off work and other real-life obligations...

And those heels were her chain to the present moment, whether she liked them or not.

This was the second day in the island for basically everybody, who had arrived either on Friday or Saturday. The only activity that had happened before the wedding celebration was a dinner and drinks last night -- in which everyone also gave their phones, laptops and any other digital devices away for the sake of the detox proposed by the bride and groom. It was interesting to see a bunch of working adults looking like kids giving their favorite toy to another adult and Amara, though amused by the reactions and complaints, couldn't claim to be unaffected by this as she had to warn friends, family and flirty chats that she'd be completely offline for almost a week, while being stranded with people she mostly did not know at all.

DAY 1

This was a true out-of-the-box experience for most, but she was happy to participate, despite being a bit on the shy side during the initial meet and greet moments last night: Her friend, the bride, was obviously the center of attention and very busy most of the time, so she decided to simply observe and make small talk if needed for the first few days and not stress too much about socializing. There were many games to break the ice, and everyone had to wear a name tag, greet each other in their favorite way (there were many cultures involves, so all sorts of things could happen: kisses on the cheek, handshake, hug, bows...)

The premise to have a melting pot of cultures, completely cut off from tech, was an idea celebrated fervently by the bunch of enthusiastic and majorly jetlagged invitees.

"All right, folks" Danielle said during the meet and greet, after having every single person read each other's name tag, greet in their own way, and go back to sitting. "We brought you here not only to celebrate us, of course" she motioned to Diego, who took her hand and kissed it while people clapped and whistled.

"We chose you carefully and consider that you will make soul connections here, be it to nature or to each other. We're going to hike, bike, meditate, dance, laugh, sing, drink and have a break from the fucking dumpster fire that the world currently is out there"

People let out woohoos and nodded.

"We have a full week to connect to each other and to this amazing island and I want us to make the absolute most of it. You each have an amazing room at the villa, we're having breakfast together every morning, and in your room we have the list of dates and times for each activity planned. Don't feel pressured to do them all as we won't ourselves, but we'd love it if you could join at least one a day! We planned everything to make it energizing and relaxing for everyone. So welcome, and I am so happy to be sharing this moment with you!"

Diego hugged Danielle, apparently holding back some tears -- he was a big softie, as all friends already knew, and always had the dream of a wedding in an island. With the commotion and a bunch of "awws", a standing ovation started for -- and around them. Amara, in her seat, stayed. Clasping her bottle of water to lessen the effects of the alcohol and the jetlag, she kept wondering how anyone could have that much energy at that time when all she wanted right now was the softness of a pillow under her face.

She smiled for Dani and zoned out for a bit as many people made noise around the happy couple: funny how the lack of a phone can make your head go places. Her wandering eyes noticed how the cohort of friends from Diego and Dani consisted of 25 to 40-year-olds with a lot of energy, excitement and frankly, style: she marveled at the outfits in that first night: flowy summery dresses, often showing knees and above, beautiful golden and silver jewelry with sea motifs (including her own seashell necklace), and men in surprisingly well-fitting linen and cotton garments, with the occasional lightly unbuttoned shirts which she was not against. There was surely eye candy all over and, considering her recent streak of 5 weeks of intense project management at work which drained all her energy and gave no opportunity for her to see her boy toy, she was decided on not holding back on serving herself with whatever natural beauty was in her surroundings.

Supporting her chin on her hand, she sipped her water slowly watching people: she saw mostly straight hair, light colored clothes, statement jewelry, transparency, no high heels, and one woman with a thigh split dress.

"They have a lot of energy"

Her zoning out was cut by a low voice that raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her. Sitting nearby, a man with a well-trimmed beard and a typical hawaiian shirt held a cup of orange juice and sipped as Amara checked his face and name tag -- Damien. They had greeting each other before as everyone did, but she hadn't paid special attention to anyone.

"I'm assuming they haven't spent a busy week at work before today, plus a long plane trip... or maybe I am just too old for this" she pokes at herself, thinking now that she is self-conscious about how she didn't put as much effort in her outfit for this first moment as the rest...

"I am right there with you" he raises his glass of OJ to her bottle of water and they lightly click together "but I am the one with gray hairs already so maybe I sm the only truly old one here, you're just tired" he smiled warmly.

Amara smiled back and took a longer look at him. Damien had specks of gray in his beard and head indeed, but stood at around185 centimeters of height and had a sturdy structure of muscles that seemed to be pressing themselves against his shirt willingly, begging to be released. His calm demeanor and gaze contrasted with his beefy physique -- the professor-style eyeglasses was also an interesting touch to the mix, so much so that Amara soon noticed she had been looking at him for longer than she should when he gave her a kind smile and moved a bit to the side.

"You are young for the gray hair, though" she remarked, feeling like he was open to the possibility of banter. He acquiesced.

"36 and counting. It is actually great to be able to grow into yourself as you age. I know my limits better and know, for instance, that I'll be heading to my holy sleep very soon and not get involved in that" - he pointed to a group that was now dancing in a circle around the groom and bride, who sat in the middle and had glitter thrown on them.

Amara laughed. "That amount of glitter is gonna definitely require a late-night shower and hair washing... i'm also out". She waved at Dani who had just received a bunch of confetti on her head.

Feeling a cold breeze, she touched her arm which got goosebumps as she finished her water.

"Perhaps a light jacket for the next evening we are out?" Damien spoke softly while looking at her forearm. "We never know what an island reserves for us" he smiled, rubbing his own forearm as if he were also cold.

But he was clearly fucking not.

The mix of a soft yet solid presence with kind eyes had started to shake Amara: besides his appearance, which was far from bad for a 36-years-old, Damien had something she could only describe as an aura that seemed to irradiate an inviting heat. She caught herself glancing at his chest a few times, and the constant tropical breeze brought a pine scent she was sure came from him now and then -- her favorite on a man. His big hands also got her attention and inevitably jumped to places where she hadn't been touched in a while. The small glass of wine she drank at the beginning might also be the culprit of the heat she started feeling, but she also could not ignore the fact he had an open, magnetic presence she wanted to explore further.

As she realized that her new room had yet to be explored, and that her eyelids kept getting heavier, she got up and waved again for Dani, putting her hands together to signal she needed to sleep. Among the crowd of inebriated dancers, Dani gave her a thumbs up and screamed "Catch you tomorrrooow!!" as Amara put her chair back in place.

Pivoting towards the exit, Damien's eyes met Amara's.

"You were right, we never know what the island reserves for you and tonight, the island reserved a new set of pillows I am eager to try" she said while suppressing a yawn. "Sorry!" she smiled as he peered into her eyes, smiling. "Rest well, Amara. See you tomorrow?" he asked with eager eyebrows.

She nodded. "Good night".

The walk back to her room was a haze of tiredness and a fluttering in her stomach. There was something about Damien's eyes that drew her in: they were calming, kind and mysterious, and the gaze was always in partially opened eyelids which gave a sort of inquisitive vibe to it all - like he was trying to decipher her, observing a rare bird in the wild, yet being respectful and not invasive so as to not disturb her habits and usual movements.

Her thoughts in trying to decipher his thoughts of her made her routine before bed automatic and she barely realized when she was already in bed, teeth brushed, in PJs, in the dark. The pillows were as good as she had imagined and she found a perfect position in a few seconds...

The weight of her jet lag started descending and she was soon out, in the arms of Morpheus. Her dreams were illogical and confusing, as dreams are often, and at a moment, she could see only sand and her forearm with goosebumps.

She looked at her body in the dream and saw she was in the silk dress she had reserved for the party but oops -- this was not what she was wearing as her last memory was being in bed in her room in the villa, in her shorts + comfy bra PJs. And it wasn't cold in the room... so also, why would she be cold at the beach if the sun was raging on?

She looked around and noticed it was only sand, no trees or people in sight. Soon it hit her: it was a lucid dream, likely due to the alcohol + jetlag + tiredness combo, and for whatever reason she was cold at a hot beach while wearing a fancy party dress.

She was pissed and started running on the sand, which seemed to be endless. As this was lucid, she decided she wanted to go faster than what was humanly possible in real life and she did: jumping and running, she crossed meters and meters, seeing the sea in the horizon while feeling the annoying cold. Even after stopping, there was no tiredness or muscle heating: her two arms had goosebumps and she groaned while mumbling "come on, I wanna wake up".

In a split second, as she looked at her arms again in the dream, a big hand touched it.

Damien's.

She stopped mumbling and looked at him, in the same outfit as the party, this time without the professor glasses.

"You forgot your jacket, it seems" he softly slid this sentence out while running his arm up her forearm, towards her biceps.

Amara was not a newbie to lucid dreams and had practiced it a lot in the past. Sex was a common theme and here, there was no doubt in her mind that she would enjoy herself, even if only inside her own consciousness.

"You are here and you're just hot enough" she said, taking his hand. With her other hand, she moved her long dress up in order to expose her string (the one she had bought especially for the wedding party with the silky dark green dress that fell so close to her skin).

She wanted to flatter her form as much as possible and chose this as the only underwear for her outfit, as it was practically invisible under her dress and would allow her ass to be the center piece. It was also the outfit for this dream, as she was oddly aware in this dream lucidness, and since she'd tried it all on before, she knew how to work it.

Putting his fingers on the front of her string, which had burgundy lace, Damien now had two digits near her clit, judiciously hidden behind her pussy lips and covered by the lace. She could somehow feel his touch in the dream, and with the advent of dream logic, she knew there was going to be no discomfort here, and no feelings hurt.

"Put it to the side and show me" - she says inching closer to his face - "show me if you're good with your fingers".

In having practiced lucid dreaming with a focus on sex in the past, she knew she was going to wake up wet from this and didn't hold back: once Damien slid in with two fingers, she nodded and grabbed his shirt.

"Finger me harder" she demanded while looking at his face, very concentrated on her torso. He was kissing her bosom while fingering her deep.

Feeling like an orgasm could happen, Amara focused all of her mental energy to continue the dream as it was -- sometimes, lucid dreams could dissipate, and she'd wake up if the narrative changed. Unfortunately, Dream Damien removed his fingers from inside of her and instead tried to kiss her, which was not what she wanted.

The frustration was big as she wrestled with her own mind to try to take over the dream again, to no avail. She felt herself losing it and waking up.

Groaning, she opened her eyes and saw the faint moonlight in the bedroom. This was again the real world.

She groaned again in frustration as she had been close. Now, she is angry and thirsty.

In realizing her thirst, she moves to get up from the bed and by sitting up, feels something in her shorts...

Taking a deep breath in the heavy, silent darkness of her room, she slides her hand inside her shorts and to no surprise, she is wet.

More accurately: sopping wet, to the point that her shorts are drenched. She feels the heat her frustrated clit is irradiating, as if drowning in its own anger for not having finished.

Maybe this was a cut to start the week of offline activities?