The majestic stretches of sand populated with palm trees and bright rays from above proved spectacular for any visitor. In this instance, it was a long-faced woman with youthful skin due to moisturising products, fantastic midsection and legs, and a butt that had a bit of plump to it.

Such a person liked having her hair in a bun, some cleavage in her one-piece bathing suit and sunglasses on her forehead. Protecting her from the heat was a large, titled umbrella planted in the sand to create a relaxing shadow beside her beach chair. To be here was a privilege, and she had a unique way of celebrating this.

"Oh, servant. Can you get me a glass of champagne from the bar?" She coyly demanded this to the man to her left that was in the shade with her.

With his washboard abs and nice tan, he went to the tiki bar with its straw roof and bamboo walls to relay the order to bartenders in swimsuits. They poured out some Magnificent no. 9 branded champagne for him to deliver through the warm granules underneath them.

"Thank you very much." She grabbed it to savour the taste of her bubbly champagne from the luscious plains of Pastel, a land of the arts, exquisite food and drink, and high society. The beauty of the crystalline water with small fish made each sip more enjoyable.

After gulping down the last of her drink, she insulted him for not already having more. Someone like her should not have to explain that she needed more than a glass to get intoxicated. A servant of the same Iridale blood as her should be better than this. Therefore, he had to fix his mistake. "You idiot!" She took off her sunglasses to direct at him in a decrying fashion. "Where's my bottle of champagne for when I want more?!"

"I will do so right away, madame!" What she said made him more sheepish and insular.

As he turned with the flat piece of silverware used to carry the champagne, she got up to stare at his supple ass with her eyewear pressing into her face. The lady liked it being in a pair of dark beach shorts smattered with stylised tropical foliage.

The woman gave her tongue the time required to taste the mix of alcohol and saliva in every crevice of her mouth. Doing this further drove her lust as she liked her boy toys dumb and shy; it was her ideal type for sexual release in her open relationship. And when the opposite sex wasn't of interest to her, she had many female servants spread their legs for the most visceral of oral sex and masturbation through her favourite sex toys she carried in her suitcases.

"Here is you drink, ma'am. I am sorry for not having the bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice like you always want." He placed it well into the sand on her right with some trepidation.

If she wanted more, it was now a mere stretch away. As he was about to bow, however, she refused this. She loved to see the disappointment across his adorable eyes, petite nose and kissable mouth. This was the kind of sight that got her to push her breasts together to elicit several moans. Her sunglasses fell to the gold flakes below to have her hands slide down her sides before switching to something long and soft instead of her vaginal area.

"My goodness, you have such a big dick. How much are you packing underneath?" She couldn't restrain the gasp that leaped out her throat as her fingers fondled his non-aroused member.

For the sake of the young man, her hands would move from him because someone wanted to contact her on her smartphone. She would often ignore those who tried this whenever she was being intimate, but because of who it was, it caused her to gain butterfingers. It took her over ten attempts to catch the phone before she answered it.

"Ava, can you hear me?" An investor named Gill with a mullet and sideburns acted like he had an asthma attack while at a theme park with his family. His six year old son tugged at his long khaki pants with a pout and tears in his eyes. This was all part of his ploy to convince him to go on the kiddie roller coaster ride called The Great Blazed Fire Path. The design of the roller coaster was of an enraged blue dragon with flames around it, which his son thought was the coolest thing ever.

"Of course. What's the emergency?"

He informed her of the riot taking place in the Bale Trailer Park—one of several communities created to exploit groups conquered by the military of Iridale to undercut rival economies.

"Based on current estimates from those on the front lines, there are three dead and eight injured. In comparison, the subjugated people of Hesklo had lost about three times the amount in both injuries and deaths. Due to their superiour numbers, it could get more out of control."

"That's quite the situation..."

"Let me get in contact with your husband as quickly as possible to tell him about this."

Ava got up from her chair, ensuring her palm remained firm against his package as she walked into the bungalow a short distance away. She had to let go the pleasure of the now firm phallus in her grasp to push the door into lavish bedstands, lights on the wall that brought out the hardwood flooring, and a walk-in closet filled with tons of clothes.

Her servant followed her into the bathroom where she twisted the doorknob to see Gene Albrecht, her husband, president and chief executive officer of Morgston Industrial and Steel, being deepthroated while on the toilet seat.

"You have to stop ignoring your calls when you have your fun time." Ava was annoyed by the lack of urgency and his willingness to put his phone on silent for his high position.

"Give me a minute. I'm almost done." Gene had broken into a cold sweat to bust a load in the mouth of the girl who worked magic with her tongue and lips. Such a reaction, combined with timid gasps, somewhat opposed the view of him as a man of raw testosterone, where everything from his appendages, chest and face was so defined, he could cut or break the very earth.

"Stop fucking with me, Gene. Take the phone. It's Gill."

He pronounced Gill's name without a sound using exaggerated lips. Gene would have not expected to hear from him since he valued spending time with his family while not at work.

"Gene, are you done screwing your side girl yet?" He said this through the loudspeaker on Ava's phone after letting his son go with his mother on the roller coaster.

Just from his voice alone, he could tell he was scared. Gene was eager to let him speak after noticing this, with the desire to cum again going away when he got the phone and allowed Gill to describe the incident facing Bale.

The girl that was sucking him off was pulled from him and he formed a grim face towards the crisis unfolding in his company. Passing his hand over his slicked back hair, he had no hesitation to use reinforcements to halt the riots. However, his one plea was for restraint. He didn't want his business to be on the news again with these non-mainstream investigative journalists looking for the next big scoop.

Such frustration got him to throw her phone and get up to pour himself a glass of premium rum in the bungalow's main room. His wife followed him to be at his side, but he shooed her off by saying that she should go back to her legion of fuck boys. Feeling offended and horny, she left him alone with her servant's balls in her possession.

As long as I wrap this up soon, I can bury this disaster from the board of directors. They don't seem to be aware yet since the stock price has remained stable... Thinking about this weighed on him a lot, so he sat on his bed worrying about the developing riot on the valued land of his mega-corporation. He did this for a while, wondering why this had to happen to him. Gene was on this vacation to get away from everything regarding Morgston, yet nothing could ever be perfect—and anyone else that existed could say the same about themselves and their lives.

He believed the riot in Bale was unfair. The creation of revenue for his nation using labour legally offered to him was what so many did. There wasn't any way he or his company could be at fault, so how could he feel this way?

"Don't come near me." Gene sensed someone sneaking up on him. To do so at such a time was quite bad for a man with some martial arts training and having avoided the pitfalls of good quality rum by having just a few glasses for himself.

"Just wanted to check up on you. Didn't think you would be in the same spot after all this time."

"Should I say thanks for caring about me, Ava?"

"It would be great if you did."

"Even though I do it every chance I get?"

She got on the bed to place her arms around him with her voice by her ears. "I could never dismiss that part about you. You are rather kind. And confident. And easygoing. And diplomatic. And oh so affectionate." As his wife, she knew that a kiss would make things a little better. It always did without fail. Ava held his chin to give a quick, emotionally saturated taste of her mouth, and like many times before, he enjoyed it. "Do you want to go further?"

"I don't think so."

She stopped her hand from going elsewhere. "I see. You just want to talk, don't you?"

"Of course." His hand gently gripped her wrist. "I need you, Ava."

This had her grab onto him as strong as she could. They soon began to cuddle like any couple would and discussed personal issues that made both resonate with tangible optimism. The rum and the glass were left on a nightstand where a small stack of magazines, a watch, and a tequila bottle were also there. For these alcoholic companions, they stayed in their exact place so neither could pass fermented and distilled liquids to the humans amongst them.

Within that delicate time, their marriage became a superhuman blade prized by the greatest of warriors. For it to be this marvellous meant terror and death. Therefore, every foe and construct, physical and more, could never have it shatter as long as they were together.