“Maybe we should give this place a try,”
Sylvia was sitting across from her husband at breakfast. She was waiting for her Muesli to cool down as she perused the Times Travel section. Her husband was pecking at his walnut muffin, scribbling notes on his pad. Tim said he had all his best design ideas while asleep and needed to jot them down as soon as he woke up. During the first few years of their marriage, she had found this obsessive habit of his endearing. But, that was when they would fall asleep after hours of lovemaking, and wake up refreshed, but still drenched in each other’s juices and naked in each other’s arms. In those days, he would scribble these morning notes, in a frantic hurry, as she would ease her body down his and take his morning hardness in her mouth arousing his fiery passions. She loved his taste in the mornings and always swallowed his cum, a morning ritual that was part of her nutritious breakfast. Then they would shower together, where he would bring her off with his fingers, his tongue, the soap …anything her could touch her with.
Today, it had been 5 months since they last made love, and nearly 5 years since she took him in her mouth. He spent hours on his morning notes before showering, alone of course, and dashing off to his office to spend a 14-hour workday. She would climb into her BMW an hour later and drive off to her college campus where she was a respected and well-liked botany lecturer. Recently she had noticed some of her male students staring at her legs and well-toned ass. She had started wearing clothes that accentuated these and, of course, her heavy breasts. Some of the boys had started some innocent flirtations with her and she had enjoyed it, but she knew nothing would come of it. But the flirting had made her horny, and at nights, before he came home, she would often lie in bed, her legs splayed open and would tug on her nipples and rub her clit until she experienced a frustratingly small, nearly dry orgasm.
They had discussed their lack of sexuality, but neither had the time or energy to make something of it. But this morning an article in the Times had caught her eye. The bit on romantic getaways in the Yucatan had reminded her of a discussion weeks earlier she had overheard on a flight to Dallas for a conference. The woman across the aisle from her had been conducting a loud conversation with her seatmate about her recent vacation in Mexico.
“It was just great …the sun, the food, even the people,” she had dipped her volume, but only a bit, quite unable to truly lower her shrill voice, “even the people there were nice. Yeah, I was surprised …I mean the Mexicans here, I mean no disrespect,” something most people say just before they launch into some offensive diatribe, “well, you know how they are here, with all those babies, and no work …but down there, well they are really friendly.”
Her seatmate had clearly then asked her for more information because she pressed on, “well, you know how Bud and I have been …well, you know, not romantic for a while,” she suppressed a girlish giggle, “well, that place we were at just got his motor going …4-5 times a night, I’m not kidding. I swear, honey, he must have added a few inches you-know-where, and you know he was never small anyhow,” she burst into peels of laughter.
“They have these massages there,” she continued after more questions from unseen seatmate, “makes you horny as hell, and we could never get enough of each other. Hell, some days we did not even make it to the beach, we were so busy …and …” now her voice became conspiratorial, but still audible enough, “I don’t mind telling you that some of those Mexican masseurs were hot with a capital H, and I would have gladly let a few of those guys into my thong bikini, if you catch my drift.”
Her seatmate, and most of the economy section did.
“I think this place sounds perfect for us,” she pushed the paper toward Tim, “I think we could use a little time away from work and pressure, just us.”
Tim had indeed been scribbling on his writing pad, but his mind had not been on his work. He had noticed his wife’s clothes recently, the way the skirts tightly wrapped her ass, the way the slits seemed to allow just the right amount of luscious thigh to peak out, for weeks now her had wanted to grab her ass and thrust himself into her. But he knew how busy she was and how tired she was by the time he got home, and he did not want to make demands on her or risk overtures she may reject. In the mornings he found himself staring through her thin nightdress at her milky boobs, her large pink nipples pouting against the fabric. He wanted to rub his dick against her tits, fantasizing about losing his cock in her plunging cleavage, and cumming all over her white skin. Most mornings, he spent an extra few minutes in the shower yanking his tool while imagining it between Sylvia’s creamy tits, her hot lips or deep inside her once-juicy cunt, until he felt the release building up and spewing his load down the drain.
“That sounds great,” Tim said, looking at the pictures of couples frolicking on the beach, already imagining his voluptuous wife in a skimpy bikini, her boobs bouncing as she runs across the sand to him, wraps her shapely legs around his ass as they kiss each other, tongues exploring hard, deep, wet, …
“I’m serious, Tim,” Sylvia was disturbed by how distracted Tim seemed these morning; it was as if she was not even there. He hardly looked into her eyes, looking at some place near her neckline instead.
‘Me too,” he replied, staring at the faint glimmer of nipple under her pink negligee, “I’ll make the flight bookings if you look into the hotel. How about next weekend?” he looked at the picture of another couple enjoying a massage while lying next to each other. The blonde woman appeared to have Sylvia’s build. His cock began to rise at the thought of rubbing oil on his wife’s back, down to her ass, between her ass, her puckered ass hole, further to her pussy lips and inside …he gulped, “We both have that four-day weekend coming up,”
Sylvia could hardly believe her ears. She thought she would have to argue with him to convince him. She would have liked to have discussed the plans with him more, but Tim stood up and walked to his shower. She could not be sure, but it looked like he was hiding an erection from her as he rushed off.
They landed in Cancun on Saturday morning, picked up their rental and headed south toward the resort. Sylvia had worn her yellow sundress and Tim had spent the entire flight controlling his desire to reach his hands up her dress, up her smooth thighs to her crotch. Instead he satisfied himself with the view of her creamy, deep cleavage as she sat next to him reading the in-flight magazine.
Sylvia had deliberately worn this dress. She knew it accentuated her tits and ass best and was hoping to get Tim’s attention. In the past few weeks she had noticed him looking at her with what she thought might be desire, maybe even lust. In the mornings she noticed his erection as he woke up and was amazed at how large his cock could become. She had nearly forgotten how he used to stretch her cunt open with his shaft when he entered her. And just last week she had sneaked into the bath while he was showering to get a glimpse of his full naked body. She had found him standing there, eyes closed as the water streamed over his muscles, grabbing his own dick, pulling it harder than she had ever, his right hand moving rapidly along it so that she could see his glowing red cock head appear and disappear with every tug. He had soaped his hands and cock for maximum lubrication, and to her surprise he was playing with his scrotum, dangling obscenely between his spread legs. She knew he was going to come soon, because his mouth was twisted and he was moaning audibly. Just before he exploded, he allowed one soapy finger from his left hand to drift to his asshole and inserted inside. She saw him tense up with his own finger teasing his rear, and then one jet of milk-white semen flew out of his cock onto the shower walls. He kept his eyes closed as more cum dribbled out of his dick. Sylvia knew that Tim could shoot like a porn star, repeated ribbons of cum that she had once upon their marriage caught in her mouth, on her chin, her hair, and her nose and on her tits.
