“Hi guys! It’s Clara and Taco here for Blue Crown Resort.” I grin and wave. On my shoulder, Taco gives a grumble. “We’ve got a very special live stream today. As you can see, we’re filming from behind the main building. This is a part of the resort I’ve never shown in videos before and even the guests don’t normally see. But let me show you around.”
I make a come-on gesture, waving for Eli to follow me.
There’s a reason I don’t normally show this in videos. The back side of the main building isn’t the stuff of idyllic beach vacations. There’s a stack of crates by the back door, shelves where we store nonperishables, and a stone path that leads through the mud to the staff cabins. The cabins are nestled against a small strip of jungle and shaded by the dappled light the trees provide.
“Please excuse this brief tour of the inner workings of the resort. By now you know we’re not fancy here at the Blue Crown. After all, we’re named for our famous blue-crowned motmots, one of Belize’s most beautiful birds, not anything to do with royalty or actual crowns. But, if you follow me past our staff cabins…” Beyond the cabins, the jungle opens up to reveal a pond. “Creciente Caye is one of Belize’s many atolls, so we’ve got beaches and ocean on one side, and a gorgeous lagoon on the other. For the past year, we’ve been creating this pond here, which is the perfect new home for our resident sea turtles. And today, they’re going to explore it for the first time.”
Eli pans away from me to get a shot of Jonah, Raul, and some of the other guys unloading Noah and Jenny. Taco, forever curious and grumpy, leaves my shoulder to supervise the island’s new residents.
The live stream lasts for nearly an hour. I take questions from the audience and talk the whole time, mostly in the background, taking backstage to the turtles themselves. I discuss why and how they were rescued. Why they can’t be returned to the wild, and how we can prevent other turtles from suffering similar injuries. As well as why we decided to move them from their previous home on Libélula Caye. We show off their new, bigger enclosure.
Obviously, I don’t mention the real reason we moved the turtles here. Now that Jonah lives on Creciente Caye, Libélula isn’t occupied full time.
Towards the end of the video, I make my way over to Jonah, who is feeding Noah a leaf of lettuce.
“If you’d like to visit Noah and Jenny in person, check out our website for more information about arranging a turtle encounter during your stay. Obviously, since they are wild animals, the opportunities to interact with them are limited.”
Jonah stands, making eye contact with the camera for the first time.
I slide up beside him and wink at the camera. “What do you think, guys? Is today the day that Jonah is finally going to talk out loud?”
There’s a stream of hearts and thumbs up from the audience.
Instead of saying anything, he slings an arm over my shoulder and tucks me under his arm, making his signature noncommittal grunt before dropping a kiss on my forehead.
“I guess not.” I grin up at him, patting him on the chest. To the camera I say, “That’s about it for us. You can book all kinds of eco-friendly trips from our website. And until then—”
My words morph into a squeal when Jonah hoists me up and over his shoulder before turning and walking away.
“I’m not done!” I protest. “The camera’s still filming!”
Eli is guffawing with laughter. I hear him ending the video and signing off to the watchers as Jonah makes it to the tree-lined path that leads to our private cabin. He doesn’t put me down until we’re inside.
Then he presses me against the door, grinding his cock against the juncture of my thighs. I groan, still putting up the most feeble of protests.
“That is not how we’d planned on ending the video.”
He lifts me up, nipping at the crest of my breast that’s just visible above the swim tank I’m wearing. “Too bad.” His hands give my ass a squeeze, firm and demanding, that makes my pussy drenched. “How was I supposed to focus on talking to the viewers when I had to listen to you talk for the past hour? You know how hot it gets me when you show off how smart you are.”
I laugh. “Yeah, well, you know how hot it gets me when you’re showing off your muscles.”
He was supposed to talk at the end of the video. Ever since he started appearing in the videos with me, the audience—largely female, I assume—had been begging him to actually talk to the camera.
So far, he hasn’t.
And honestly, I can’t bring myself to care that he went off script. As he carries me to our bedroom, he asks, “You gonna complain about that?”
“Nope. Not even a little.”
What can I say?
This man of mine, this huge, taciturn man of mine, never does quite what I expect, but he somehow always knows what I need.
