This is a funny story that actually a happened to my husband and I two years ago when we decided to get away for a week alone in South Carolina. At that time, I was still going to school and my husband was about to start a new job, so we made a reservation for an island resort. Frankly, it could have been at a Holiday Inn down the highway for all I cared! Just a week away from the madness at home was fine for me.
The place we chose was an all-inclusive resort that catered to couples, but when we got there we noticed we were older than most of the guests, who seemed to be in their 20s and early 30s. We are an inter-racial couple, he is black and I am Vietnamese. My husband Malcom (38) and I (24) keep ourselves in great shape, working out several times a week, but we were no match for some of those tight bodies and bare flesh bouncing on the beach and at the pool!
Oh well, when in Rome . . . We took it good stride, and Malcom didn't mind oogling at all the young hotties, nor did I! And after a day or so, we were relaxed enough that we felt just like one of the kids. I didn't even think twice about taking off my bikini top at the clothing-optional beach. And I felt a certain sense of pride when I noticed more than one of the younger guys taking notice in my full B-cup breasts.
On our third day, Malcom and I were relaxing on the beach when all of the sudden I heard a familiar voice say, "Wow, what are the chances running into you guys here?"
I peered above my sunglasses to see my old high school friend, Christina. Back when she was in high school, she was our go-to girl when things need to be done. She was outgoing, in the student government, soccer, basketball, volleyball, and almost every club at school. That was six years ago and Christina still had the same cute face - pretty blue eyes and shoulder-length hair - but she was all woman, with a curvy figure that was all the more highlighted in her black bikini. I didn't have to look over at Malcom to know he was definitely taking notice in Christina's assets!
"Julie, I want you to meet my fiance, Tom"
I was immediately taken back by the view of her fiance. The best way to describe Tom was as one of those models you see in magazine ads for fancy men's cologne - young, buff, long hair, chiseled face, deep eyes. He was simply gorgeous. He was younger then Christina and I. Just turn 20 a few months ago.
"Hello, I am . . . . I am, I am Julie," I stammered, reaching out my hand to shake. His large hands seemed to swallow my fingers and he said, "Nice to meet the both of you"
We invited Christina and Tom to sit down and relax with us and they accepted our offer. At first, it was just slightly awkward - Malcom's gap in years seemed to limit our conversations to small talk, weather, etc. and also not really know what kind of person Christina have now become kept me from talking about anything personal. But after sharing a couple of great memories and laughs, it was like old friends getting together for drinks. Turns out Tom and Christina had just gotten engaged and wanted to sneak out of town for a "pre-honeymoon" trip.
"Please, don't say anything to my folks! They would kill me if they knew we did this. They think we are visiting college friends in Florida," Christina said.
"No worries," I said. "We were just like you guys before we got married." I laughed, but I could have sworn my last comment had earned me an up-and-down glance from Tom's deep eyes. I must admit, I was looking pretty good: on this particular day I was wearing my best bikini, a flowered-print number that showed off my curves very nicely. Not bad for 24, government employee who sit in a cube all day, I thought.
This being the middle of July in the South, it didn't take long for the beach to heat up. Christina suggested that we all take a swim, but I said I would like to get some sun on my back, since my front had been getting most of the sun for the past hour. So I laid out on my belly while Tom, Christina and Malcom ventured into the clear blue waters. I could hear them all laughing in the distance as I drifted off to a semi-sleep in this island paradise . . .
"Owwwwww!" That was the sound that woke me. I looked up and saw Christina hobbling back to our chairs on one leg, her arm around Tom She looked to be a bit of discomfort, but I wouldn't call it serious pain.
"I stepped on a rock in the ocean and I twisted my ankle," she said, settling into the chair.
OK, one thing you need to know about the resorts is they generally have few or no lifeguards around. So if you hurt yourself, you are pretty much on your own until you call for help. Oh, and you also need to know that Christina, for all her wonderful qualities, is a drama queen of the highest order. Every nick, cut and bruise she has ever received in her life has probably felt like a life-threatening injury to her.
"Can you put pressure on it?" I asked.
"Yes, but it feels sore."
"Well, it's definitely not broken, then. Probably just a twist or sprain. You should probably get some ice on it and keep it elevated," I said.
Because they booked their room at the last second, Tom and Christina's bungalow was on the other side of the resort, near the entrance. Malcom and I, however, were located right near the beach, so we offered our room if Christina wanted to ice her leg and get her ankle up on a chair or something. That way she could return to the beach if she was feeling better in an hour or so.
"I can help get you settled," Malcom offered, perhaps a bit too quickly. I was just about to shoot him an accusing glance when Tom said, "That would be great since the airline lost some of our luggage and I was supposed to check back at the lobby by noon to see where our bags went."
So the two men put their arms around Christina and helped her back to our bungalow. She was clearly enjoying the "damsel in distress" role and even kept saying, "Ow . . . oh. . . ow" as they walked off together. I just rolled my eyes and thought, I hope Tom is ready for a lifetime of that!
After about a half-hour or so, I was still on the beach, alone with my book. Tom was probably off arguing with some concierge or airline rep, Christina was resting her ankle . . . but where was my husband? I got up and took a stroll around the beach and pool, but didn't see a trace of him. Then I thought, maybe he's still with Christina, who is ordering him around to help her aching ankle.
So I went back to our bungalow. Because we are so close to the beach, we would keep our windows open during the day to let the salt air breeze fill the room. So as I walked up to our porch, I could hear a sound coming from inside. At first, it sounded like someone was hurt, which made sense since Christina would definitely be playing up her injury. But the voice was male! And the more I heard it, the more it sounded like pleasure, not pain.
If I live to be 100, I will never forget the sight as I peaked through the porch curtains. My husband being 6'3 was lying on his back, his bathing shorts down at his ankle . . . and Christina's mouth wrapped around his cock! Her pretty head was bobbing up and down on the thick shaft, her hands cupping his balls, while my husband just let out his familiar moan. "Mmmmmmmmmm, that is fuckin great," he said, running his left hand through Christina's head. Christina's bikini top was off and Malcom's right hand was playing with her breasts, and you could tell she was loving that.
"Do you like this?" she said with mock innocence, looking into his eyes.
"Yes, oh fucking yes!" Malcom replied.
Now, there was a part of me that wanted to burst into that room and tell that whore to get off my husband's cock. Besides, her ankle didn't seem to be bothering her at all now! But there was another part of me that was getting incredibly turned on by the sight of another woman, especially one so young and so beautiful, making love to my husband's cock. Malcom and I have always had an agreement that extracurricular sex was fine, as long as it was just sex. We have dabbled in some swapping/lifestyle activities over the years, so we know that having good, fun sex outside our marriage is OK, even healthy, for a relationship.
And how could I really blame Christina? Of my husband's many assets, his thick, large cock is definitely in his Top 10! I would say it is at least 9 inches, and very wide. One look at that big rod and Christina probably couldn't resist giving him a blowjob. She was doing a pretty good job, too, working her tongue all over the thickness, his balls, even his ass. What a dirty slut, I thought.
