Seduced in Hawaii

Steve and Shelly stepped off the shuttle into the warm Hawaiian breeze, the setting sun casting a golden hue across the palms swaying against the evening sky. They were tired from the long flight but exhilarated by the moment. This trip to Hawaii was a gift—a prize won at a church raffle, and it felt almost too good to be true. It was the perfect setting, an all-expenses-paid week at one of the island’s most luxurious resorts. They’d only been dating a little over a year, and this was their first real trip together. Steve thought it was a blessing. Shelly, in her quiet way, was already thinking about more than blessings.

The concierge greeted them with a practiced smile and a lei, guiding them into the cool marble lobby of the resort. Steve couldn’t help but notice the way Shelly’s eyes widened as they stepped into their suite. The resort had spared no expense, that much was clear. Their room was breathtaking, like something out of a travel magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched open to reveal an ocean view that seemed infinite. The bed—a king-sized canopy draped in soft white linens—was framed by dark wood beams, giving the room a rustic elegance. The air smelled of salt and hibiscus, a scent that immediately put Steve at ease.

“Wow,” Shelly breathed, stepping further into the room. She dropped her luggage next to the bed and walked to the balcony doors. Steve watched her as she opened them, the warm breeze sweeping in and tousling her hair. She turned back to him with a smile that could have melted the heart of any man alive. “This place is incredible.”

Steve chuckled, feeling a little awkward now that it was just the two of them. The trip had been a dream, but being alone together like this, in such a romantic setting, made him all too aware of the one thing they hadn’t done yet. And wouldn’t, he reminded himself. Not until they were married. He knew Shelly felt the same, or at least she used to.

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the edge of the bed, testing its softness. "It’s nice, huh? Kind of feels like we’re out of a movie."

Shelly leaned against the doorframe, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress. "It’s perfect," she said, her voice soft, almost dreamy. She wasn’t looking at the room anymore, though. She was looking at Steve.

A long silence hung between them, filled only by the sound of the waves crashing outside. Shelly crossed the room slowly and sat down beside him, their shoulders barely touching but close enough to send a shock of awareness through him.

Steve shifted, running a hand through his hair nervously. "You okay?"

“I am," she said, her voice carrying a weight he hadn't heard before. She reached for his hand, folding it into hers. Her skin was warm, soft—comforting. She was everything to him, and sometimes that scared him. Steve had always tried to be the man he thought she needed: strong, patient, the kind of guy who didn’t rush things. He knew she was special, the kind of woman you waited for.

But tonight, Shelly seemed different.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her gaze not leaving his. Her thumb traced small circles on his palm. “Maybe this trip is more than just a holiday. Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign?” His voice cracked, betraying him. Steve didn’t know what she was getting at, but he could feel the tension between them tightening, thickening like the humid air around them.

She nodded, her eyes soft but serious. “Steve, we’re in love. I know we’ve said we’d wait until we’re married, and I’ve wanted that too. But what if this is our moment? We’re here, alone… We love each other. Isn’t that what matters?”

Steve felt his pulse quicken. He wasn’t sure if it was the jet lag or the magic of the Hawaiian sunset, but suddenly everything felt a little too fast. He stood up quickly, pulling his hand from hers. “Shelly, we can’t just—” He stopped, unsure how to finish.

Steve stood frozen for a moment, the weight of Shelly’s words hanging in the air between them. His thoughts were a tangled mess, but before he could say anything more, Shelly broke the tension with a smile that was both playful and knowing.

"Let’s open that complimentary bottle of wine, then. At least we can do that," she said, her voice light and teasing.

Steve felt a small sense of relief, grateful for the shift in tone. He walked over to the minibar, pulling out the bottle of wine, its label elegant and expensive-looking. His hands felt clumsy as he opened it, the cork popping with an audible sigh. He poured two glasses and handed one to Shelly, who took a sip with a mischievous glint in her eye. She was up to something, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

While Steve stood there, wine glass in hand, Shelly wandered the suite, her excitement palpable. She opened the sliding glass door to the balcony, took in the view of the ocean, and then disappeared into the bathroom. It was only a few seconds later that Steve heard her scream.

“Oh my God!”

He nearly dropped his glass in surprise. “What? What is it?”

“Come in here. You have to see this!”

Steve set his wine on the nightstand and made his way to the bathroom, unsure of what to expect. He found Shelly standing in front of the most luxurious shower he had ever seen—its sleek glass walls revealed dual rain showerheads, chrome fixtures, and a built-in bench. The tiles glistened under the soft lighting, making the entire setup look like something out of a high-end spa.

“We have to try it,” Shelly said, her voice filled with excitement, her eyes sparkling. “I mean, look at it! After all that travel, we both need a shower.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going. He knew Shelly well enough to sense when she had an idea brewing.

“I’ll keep my underpants on, I promise,” she added with a wink, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Steve’s heart pounded. She was testing him, pushing boundaries in that subtle, teasing way that always threw him off balance. Part of him wanted to say no, to stick to the safe path they’d been walking for so long. But another part of him—the part that was tired of holding back, tired of pretending he wasn’t completely in love with her—was intrigued.

He cleared his throat. “A shower sounds… nice,” he said, his voice betraying his hesitation.

Shelly took his hand and led him further into the bathroom, the warmth of her touch sending sparks up his arm. She turned on the water, and almost immediately, the showerheads rained down in a steady, soothing stream. The sound of the water hitting the tiles was oddly calming, and for a moment, Steve felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Shelly kicked off her shoes and slid out of her sundress, leaving herself in nothing but a pair of lacy white underpants. She turned to him, her expression soft but still filled with that mischievous glimmer. “Your turn,” she said, nodding toward his clothes.

Steve hesitated, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, feeling both awkward and exhilarated at the same time. He didn’t want to push things too far, but the sight of Shelly, standing there with the steam rising around her, was more than a little distracting. He slipped out of his jeans, leaving on his boxers, just as she’d promised with hers.

Steve froze for a moment, mid-step, the steam rising around him as Shelly’s words hung in the air. Her smile was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge he hadn’t expected. He looked at her, standing confidently under the warm spray, her damp hair sticking to her shoulders, the water catching the soft curves of her body. She was beautiful, radiant in a way that made his pulse quicken, and her eyes were locked on his.

“I said I would keep my underpants on,” she repeated, her voice playful but firm. “I didn’t say you could. Now stop being a chicken and get in that shower.”

Steve’s mind raced. This wasn’t the plan. They had boundaries, they had made promises—*he* had made promises, at least. But standing there, watching Shelly in that moment, he felt everything they’d built teetering on the edge of something new. Something… dangerous.

Shelly tilted her head, waiting, the steam swirling between them like a silent invitation. She raised an eyebrow, daring him.

“Come on, Steve,” she said, her voice softer now, coaxing. “What are you afraid of? We’re just taking a shower.”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the humidity in the room. He felt his resolve cracking, the months of restraint wearing thin under the weight of the moment. He wanted her, had always wanted her, but they had rules. Good, safe rules. Still, the teasing glint in her eyes, the way her wet skin glistened in the dim light, was impossible to ignore.

He let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. “Shelly, I don’t think this is such a good idea…”

She stepped closer, the water from the shower cascading over both of them now. She reached up, brushing her fingertips along his jaw, her touch electric. “You worry too much,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the water. “It’s just you and me, Steve. There’s nothing wrong with this.”

Steve’s heart pounded in his chest. Her hand moved to the waistband of his boxers, her fingers lingering there for just a second. Shelly's eyes locked on his, and for the first time, he felt his control slipping.

“I... I don’t know if I can,” he managed, his voice strained.

Shelly smiled that teasing smile again and backed away, returning to her spot under the spray, as if giving him space to make his choice. “Suit yourself,” she said lightly, turning her back to him, letting the water run over her as she washed her hair. “But you’re missing out.”

Steve stood there, the tension between them thick in the air. He knew this wasn’t about the shower. This was about them—about what came next, what was always going to come next. His mind flashed back to the nights they’d spent talking about their future, about their faith, about waiting until marriage. But now, here, in this room, with Shelly standing under the water like some kind of temptation he couldn’t resist… it all felt so far away.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His fingers hooked the waistband of his boxers, and for a split second, he hesitated, feeling the weight of the decision. But then, without thinking, he slid them off, letting them fall to the tiled floor.

The water was warm as he stepped into the shower fully, his body tense, his heart hammering in his chest. Shelly didn’t turn around, but he could see the smile on her face as she reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands.

Steve stood still, the water hitting him, washing away the last remnants of his resolve. He wasn’t sure where this was heading, wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that final step. But Shelly had a way of drawing him in, of making him forget the rules they’d built their relationship on.

Shelly turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she held out the bar of soap. “You’re going to need this,” she said, her voice soft but filled with meaning.

As the bar of soap slipped through his fingers, Steve felt a jolt of something he couldn't quite name—nervous anticipation, maybe. Shelly laughed lightly, her eyes never leaving his as she knelt in front of him, retrieving the soap from the floor with a graceful, deliberate movement.

“I’ll get it,” she said, her voice low, almost teasing.

Steve's heart raced as he watched her, still kneeling, her hands slick with soap. She didn’t stand. Instead, she stayed on her knees, the water streaming down her hair, plastering it to her back, and began to lather her hands again.

Slowly, Shelly reached for his ankle, her touch gentle but purposeful. The sensation of her fingers working the soap into his skin sent a shiver up his spine. Steve stared down at her, unsure of what to say or do. His breath caught in his throat as her hands moved upward, tracing slow, careful lines from his ankle to his calf, then further up to his knee.

He wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but his voice seemed to have abandoned him. The room felt smaller, the steam closing in around them, and the only thing he could focus on was the feeling of her hands on his skin. She paused when she reached the top of his thigh, her fingers barely grazing his skin in a way that was both innocent and unbearably intimate.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, locking onto his with that same playful mischief. “You okay?” she asked, the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

Steve swallowed hard, his pulse racing in his ears. “Y-yeah,” he managed, though the word felt shaky, unsure. He wasn’t okay—how could he be? Shelly had never touched him like this before, and the electric charge it sent through him was something he hadn’t been prepared for.

Shelly smiled again, as if satisfied with his answer, and moved to his other ankle. This time, her movements were even slower, her fingers gliding over his skin as she worked her way back up his leg. Steve stood there, every muscle in his body tense, as she stopped just short of the same spot on his thigh, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.

He could barely breathe, barely think. The shower’s warm spray was a dull hum in the background compared to the pounding of his heart. Shelly was still kneeling, her hands resting lightly on his legs, her eyes flicking between his face and the space between them. The intimacy of the moment, the sight of her kneeling there with the steam swirling around them, made him dizzy with emotion.

Shelly didn't break eye contact as she lathered her hands again, the slow, deliberate motions of her fingers keeping his attention fixed on her. She wasn’t rushing. In fact, she seemed entirely content with drawing out every second of this, watching his reaction as her hands skimmed his skin.

His breath grew shallow, his body betraying him as his excitement became more and more apparent. Shelly, still kneeling before him, made a point of looking at it, examining it. Her eyes returned to his, calm and steady, without a hint of surprise.

"Somebody's woken up" she said.

Steve’s face flushed with embarrassment, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “I— I’m sorry.”

But Shelly cut him off before the apology could fully form. “It’s okay, Steve.” Her voice was soft, a whisper just loud enough to reach him through the sound of the shower. She moved her hands up to rest firmly on his thighs, her eyes never leaving his. "Let me take care of that," she said gently, her tone full of reassurance and something deeper, something that made his heart race even more.

Steve stood there, his body tense, barely processing his own nod as he gave in to the moment. Shelly’s eyes were locked on his, and her calm, reassuring presence soothed the nervous energy rushing through him.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she leaned in.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as Shelly moved closer, her face only inches away. His heart pounded so hard he thought she might hear it, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think—he was completely under her spell. The steam curled around them, making everything feel hazy and dreamlike.

Her lips touched his skin, a soft, feather-light kiss that sent a shock of heat through his body. He gasped, not out of surprise, but because the feeling was so intense, so overwhelming. Shelly didn’t rush. She kissed him again, her lips warm against his skin, and with each kiss, his body responded, the tension between them thickening.

Steve’s knees wobbled slightly, and Shelly’s hands, still resting on his thighs, held him steady. She was in control, and she made sure he knew it. Her hands moved, slowly and deliberately, tracing up his thighs as she kissed him again. This time, the kiss lingered, and Steve felt his entire body tense, every nerve alive as Shelly’s kiss lingered, her lips warm and soft against his skin. Her hands moved higher, slow and deliberate, tracing a path up his thighs that sent waves of heat coursing through him. Each touch, each kiss, was more intense than the last, and Steve was powerless to do anything but feel it—feel her.

His breath hitched, a quiet gasp escaping his lips as she continued, her touch impossibly gentle yet charged with something undeniable. His heart raced faster with every second, the anticipation building until it was almost unbearable. He was no longer in control, but Shelly didn’t seem to mind. She wanted him to feel this, to be present in every moment.

Shelly’s eyes flicked up to his, her expression calm, composed, but there was something in her gaze—a knowing look, filled with confidence and understanding. She wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing. She was simply guiding him, leading him through this, every touch and kiss crafted to pull him deeper into the moment.

Steve’s knees wobbled again, but Shelly’s hands steadied him, grounding him even as his mind spun. He felt a surge of emotion—desire, yes, but also trust, deep and unspoken. She had him completely in her hands, and he didn’t want her to let go.

Shelly’s hands paused, resting high on his thighs, as her lips lingered for just a moment longer. She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his, her breath warm against his skin.

“It’s okay, Steve,” she whispered again, her voice soft, reassuring.

Steve’s breath was shaky, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the weight of the moment pressed in on him. His heart pounded, each beat louder than the last, until he could no longer hold it in.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with both need and hesitation. “I want it.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. It was more than just desire—it was a release, a surrender to the moment, to her. He had held back for so long, but now, standing here with Shelly, all of that restraint, all of those walls were crumbling.

Shelly’s expression softened even more, her lips curving into a gentle smile. She shifted slightly, her hands still on his thighs, as if to anchor him in place. “I know,” she whispered, her voice tender. “I know you do.”

She didn’t move right away, letting the moment linger, letting Steve feel the weight of what he had just said. There was no rush, no urgency. This was about them—about trust, about taking this step together.

Slowly, Shelly leaned in again, her lips brushing his skin once more, soft and deliberate, but this time, there was no teasing. Her touch was purposeful, her hands firm as she moved closer, pushing Steve just to the edge of control. Steve’s breath hitched, his body responding instantly to the shift in her demeanor. She was guiding him now, each motion measured, precise.

Her mouth, warm and gentle, moved over him in a way that left no room for hesitation. Steve’s hands clenched by his sides, his knees weak as he felt the pull of the moment. Shelly, fully aware of the effect she had on him, didn’t rush. She let him feel every second, every touch, drawing out the tension between them like it was something sacred.

Steve gasped, his entire body trembling as Shelly continued, bringing him closer and closer, her movements both deliberate and confident. His mind swam in a haze of sensation, each touch sending waves of heat through him, building toward an inevitable peak.

He was on the edge now, barely able to stand, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Shelly’s hands steadied him, holding him in place as she brought him closer, her rhythm never faltering. She was in complete control, guiding him through every second.

Shelly kept her focus steady, her movements measured and precise as she felt Steve trembling under her touch. She could sense how close he was, how every breath he took was shorter, more urgent. His body was a reflection of the tension she had been carefully building between them.

Her eyes flicked up, watching his face, his features tight with anticipation. She smiled inwardly, feeling a quiet satisfaction. This was something she had control over, something she could give him. Her own pulse quickened, but she didn’t let it show. This wasn’t about rushing. It was about trust, about taking him to the edge, making him feel every moment.

Her hands steadied him, keeping him grounded as his knees threatened to buckle. She felt the way his body tensed, the way his breathing became shallow and uneven. It was all leading to this point—this moment she had created between them.

Every touch was deliberate, designed to push him further, and she could feel the power in that.

He was on the brink now, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged bursts. She felt his hand on her head, fingers entwined in her hair, she knew there was no stopping now.

As Steve reached the inevitable peak, she felt the surge of release ripple through him. His body shuddered, and Shelly stayed steady, her mouth enveloping him, letting him feel everything, until the last wave of sensation washed over him. She didn’t rush, didn’t pull away too quickly, allowing him to come down from the high she had so carefully crafted.

When it was over, she looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

Shelly stood slowly, still holding his gaze, watching as Steve’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing after the intensity of it all. She felt a small smile tug at her lips, pleased not just with the moment, but with what it meant for them.

Steve stood there, his body still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened. His breath came in slow, steady waves as the steam from the shower enveloped them, thick and warm. His heart was still racing, though the tension that had gripped him moments before had finally eased. Shelly’s gaze never wavered as she watched him, her smile soft and knowing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of water cascading down from the showerhead, creating a soothing backdrop to the lingering charge in the air between them. Steve couldn’t quite find the words to describe what he was feeling—gratitude, relief, and something deeper that he hadn’t anticipated.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice soft and still a little breathless. “Thank you,” he whispered, the words slipping out before he even realized it.

Shelly’s smile widened just slightly, a hint of playfulness returning to her expression. She reached out, brushing a hand along his arm as she stepped out of the shower, her feet moving gracefully across the tiles as she grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. She wrapped it around herself, the towel clinging to her damp skin as she looked back at him.

Shelly moved with a quiet grace as she stepped out of the shower, her bare feet padding softly against the cool tiles. She grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her body with practiced ease. The towel clung to her damp skin, and as she glanced back at Steve, there was a soft, playful glint in her eyes.

For a moment, Steve could only watch her, still catching his breath, still processing everything that had just happened. There was something about the way she moved, so sure of herself, that made him feel like he was on the edge of something new. Something deeper.

Shelly didn’t rush. She took her time, drying herself off before making her way to the small dresser by the bed. Steve, still standing by the shower, followed her movements with his eyes, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. She didn’t say anything, but the way she carried herself told him she was still in control, still guiding the rhythm of the night.

From the dresser, she pulled out a delicate nighty—silky, with lace trim. It was clearly something she had chosen for tonight, something meant to draw his attention, to seduce. The way the soft fabric slid over her skin, the way it clung in all the right places, left no room for doubt about her intentions. Shelly caught his gaze in the mirror as she adjusted the straps on her shoulders, her lips curving into a subtle smile.

Without a word, she walked over to the bed, the soft rustle of the nighty the only sound as she climbed beneath the sheets. Steve stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Shelly’s voice broke through his hesitation.

“It’s time for bed,” she said softly, her tone filled with suggestion but still gentle, her eyes locking onto his with that same knowing look she’d worn all evening.

“It’s time for bed,” she said softly, her tone filled with suggestion but still gentle, her eyes locking onto his with that same knowing look she’d worn all evening.

Steve got into bed, the tension between them unmistakable.

“It’s my turn now, Steve,” she whispered, her voice thick with intent. She placed her hand on his head, gently guiding him down under the covers.

“Make me cum,” she whispered.

As Steve’s head disappeared beneath the sheets, Shelly smiled to herself, knowing she would get exactly what she wanted.