Then, I worked my way back up to his neck for a bit, then nibbled on his ear, and it was this last bit that finally did the trick of stirring him back to life. Blinking hard into consciousness, he turned very promptly over to me and pulled me into himself, beginning to kiss me as though he'd been waiting around since the night before just to get things rolling once again.
The next thing I knew he was on top of me, kissing more passionately than ever, and holding my body so damn close to him that I thought he might crush me in his grip. I savored the fact of his cock pressed up against me, his erection stiffening with the flow of blood and curving deep against my thigh, so hot and so sumptuous that I thought I might melt right there on the spot.
And as though intuiting my sweet torment, he began to run his kisses down, down, down along my body, sliding from my lips and beginning to suckle on my neck, peeling his tongue up against me, nibbling on my flesh, and causing me to moan with sheer, splendid delight. Down, down, down he trickled, rolling his tongue around me in laps, his head sinking, sinking, sinking, so that my body positively trembled with anticipation for what I knew he had in mind.
His lips were on my breasts now, sucking on them as though nursing on their immensity, rolling his tongue around each nipple and sinking his teeth into them, much as I had done to him, and I whimpered with delight at it, feeling more love at his touch than I could ever recall throughout the entire extent of our marriage.
He smothered himself in my cleavage, and dripped further, further down along me, putting his lips to my navel now, and kissing me passionately there. There was something I found remarkably and splendidly intimate about this act in particular, and my spine began to arch with each lash of his tongue across my flesh, my buttocks clenching and my toes curling as I did my damnedest to stay in control of my senses.
And now, his tongue was sliding down, down, down through the clean-shaven swath of my pubic triangle, his face was angling down between my trembling thighs, and my eyes went wide as I gasped up toward the ceiling. His lips pressed firmly up against those of my twat, and his tongue crept into me, as he sensually kissed my vagina, eating me out in a hot, agonizing manner.
It was almost entirely too much for me to handle first thing in the morning like this, and I felt as though I could cry from the beauty of it as the sensations coursed through my body. He seemed to actually enjoy being so deeply buried in my muff as he was, his nostrils flaring as he snorted and inhaled me, his tongue rolling along through the wet pink folds of my cunt as though it were the most delectable thing he'd ever had the pleasure of consuming.
My pussy was putty in his lips as he sucked and nibbled and allowed his saliva to roll inside me, and my body very transparently displayed the degree of agony to which he was subjecting me with the force of his love. He drilled so deep into my body that I thought he would strike oil in there, and my entire anatomy squirmed and twisted across the sheets in response, my legs wrapping tightly around his bobbing head as he sucked me to my core, pulling him deeper and deeper into myself with every long, wet lap, and the sensations coming to a sweet, splendid head.
I came, hard as hell, bending my body to the ceiling and moaning at the top of my lungs. I thought I might go blind as my nerves flashed with delight and as the sparks flashed yellow before my eyes, pleasure consuming me, knocking me out, almost, first thing in the morning, causing my head to spin so dizzily that I wouldn't have been surprised at all if I'd wound up rolling clean off the bed by the time all was said and done.
And finally, after several agonizing moments of this intense pleasure, I began to recede back from the edge, to drift down, down, down, all the way back down to earth, my body settling back down onto the covers, and my legs unclenching to allow my splendid lover's skull some freedom of movement.
Very slowly, Adam pulled his face from my cunt, the lips of my pussy resettling gently back into their normal state of being as he reeled his mouth away from me, and my breath intense as I struggled to settle back down.
My heart beat like a damn drum as he climbed back up onto me, his hard cock once again sweeping across me as he clambered back along the bed, and the taste of my own pussy on his lips as the two of us continued to kiss an almost heavenly thing.
We made out for some time like this, me all the while enjoying the fact of growing inebriated on his warm, luscious breath as we swapped spit, until at last it dawned on me that, after a performance like that, it would only be polite of me to reciprocate his efforts...
I pulled away from him, leering into his eyes, and my nostrils continuing to flare, as I hoped to God that he understood the lurid intent behind my actions as I wrapped my hands around his.
He seemed to intuit my meaning plainly enough, and I slowly peeled him up from off of the sheets, the two of us pulling our naked bodies from beneath the balled up blankets, and pacing in the direction of the bathroom.
The hot water of the shower felt absolutely glorious as it came splashing down along our entwined bodies, melting away all the filth of sleep and getting me so worked up with heat that it felt like a repeat of yesterday's steam room incident.
Adam stood behind me for some time, his arms looped tightly around my abdomen, pulling me close into himself, and kissing my neck sensually from behind. I closed my eyes, and allowed the sensations to course through me as he did so, wrapping my arms around his neck, and savoring the feeling of his long, hard shaft being ground up and down between the crack of my ass, not penetrating me, just resting there, squeezing in and out, and causing my thighs to tremble with want as the moments ticked along.
At some point, his hands slid upward, and he cupped my breasts in his grip. His fingers dug deep, deep, deep into my flesh, causing me to moan with passion, and the occasional squeezing of my nipples causing my head to spin wildly.
Finally, after so much of this, it seemed to verge on cruel that I wasn't repaying his favor of oral sex, and when at last his touch grew too sweet for me to withstand, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I turned back around to face my lover, and slowly allowed my body to sink down, down, down, crouching onto the floor of the shower, and allowing my face to become eye level with his crotch. Then I extended a hand for him, wrapping my fingers around him, and proceeding to work the skin of his shaft. I pulled it gingerly up, up, up along him, yanking it up to his engorged tip, and then gradually pushed it back down, down, down, holding the skin taut at his base, and allowing the sensations to mount.
He sighed, then, as I released him, letting the skin settle into place once again, and I began to stroke him more rhythmically. I pushed and pumped and worked my wrist along his erection, wanking him steadily beneath the trickling spray of the shower, and all the while savoring the fact of him growing larger and stiffer in the shifting confines of my grip.
When at last he seemed adequately hot and bothered for it, I peered up at him with innocent eyes, licking my lips seductively, and parting my jaws. Then I slowly, slowly, slowly pushed my face forward, allowing my lips to melt around the immensity of his cock, downing him whole, inch by inch by inch of his sheer immensity hooking deep into my windpipe, his tip at last touching down against the very back of my throat.
And when at last my skull was pressed up against his pelvis, I felt a shiver run through his body from head to toe, and the effect was one that turned me on like you wouldn't believe. I began, very slowly, to suck him off, peeling my lips back along him, pulling, pulling, pulling up to his tip, and building up an immense, dreadful suction. Then I snapped my lips off of him, the suction dissipating in a cool blast, and pushed back down, slurping him up yet again, and slowly nodding my head into a steady, agonizing rhythm of torment.
I put my hands on his ass for support as I continued to suck and to bob up against his body, and I loved feeling his buttocks clench with pleasure as I progressed in my efforts, savoring how greatly I was tormenting him with my love, and wondering all the while how I might go about escalating the degree of my swe
et cruelty.
Then, after so long of nodding in this way, I decided to do something I'd never really attempted before. I ceased the bobbing of my head, the continually jousting against the back of my throat, and instead I consumed him wholly, deep-throating him in the most genuine of senses, pushing my lips all the way up to his pubes and then holding myself there.
Adam moaned with sheer contentment at this point, and I felt closer, more intimate than ever as I remained for some time with my face buried in his flesh in this manner, my eyes closed and my tongue rolling along his shaft as I struggled not to gag on his sheer size and immensity.
“Ohhhhhhh, Godddddd,” he moaned, as I continued to lick him and to choke on his hugeness, and after so long of this, a good five or ten minutes of me just swallowing him, in essence, I pulled back away, regurgitating his fact cock, and loving the fact of it being so thoroughly coated in my fluids.
From here, I turned around, smiling up at him as I spun my face in the opposite direction, and bent my body over, splaying myself out for him, my body trembling but ready to be taken and pounded like there was no damn tomorrow.
Accordingly, then, my gorgeous husband mounted and fucked me good, sliding his huge wang up my pussy and drilling into my body like a machine. I would never, ever, ever get tired of this, I knew, as he smashed me forward toward the faucet of the tub, practically knocking me over with each devastating thrust, and at last heaving inside with a final, deadly blow, and ejaculating into my body.
At last, when I thought I could handle no more, my beautiful husband pulled out of me, picking me up, and wrapping me up in his arms.
God almighty, what a beautiful start to the day, and the pleasures I would experience were only beginning to unfold...
Chapter 2
At this point in the day, and in the vacation itself, for that matter, I was so sexed up and filled with happy chemicals, both the dopamine of being screwed so often and the less natural traces of alcohol in my system, that I more or less went about at my husband's side in a daze. I really felt as though I had no earthly notion as to the itinerary, remembering what it was we were doing only just before arriving at our destination each time.
We had one of the best lunches of the entire stay later on that morning, everything cooked to perfection, leaving no doubt in my mind whatsoever, if, somehow, there had still been any possible doubt to clear away, that the two of us were vacationing in the warm, inviting lap of luxury.
Then, that afternoon, our destination was a couple's massage, an act which I anticipated as seeming sensual and intimate, but whose true extent I would not genuinely discern until the massage itself had begun to get underway.
The scene, even initially, had the same sort of taboo eroticism about it that being in the steam room together had possessed. You know, my husband and I, both ass naked in a public place, a scant little towel wrapped around his wang and my pussy while strangers poked and prodded at every other visible inch of our bodies. I pictured him, getting a hard-on as his masseuse kneaded up the flesh of his back, the grinding of his penis uncomfortably against the table beneath his weight with him having no means of releasing himself all throughout the course of events, until afterward he was so pent up with sexual frustration that he would have to give me the pounding of a lifetime to relieve himself.
And then it occurred to me that I should be prepared for this eventuality in the event that things did go south (wink, wink) in this manner, and I began to perform Kegel exercises as I laid there on the massage table, readying my pussy, getting it nice and tight and strong in order to best please him once he slid inside me.
And that was when I saw the two masseuses walk through the door, and my eyes went wide as sin with equal parts terror and sheer, splendid delight.
Who should it be, of all the people on this damn island, but the man I mentioned earlier on having an almost devastating crush on, the man I'd been eyeballing nearly every time I came across him, his dark brown skin and his penetrating eyes, all wrapped up in a white masseuse uniform that stood out with blazing contrast against his smooth, deep flesh. At his side, then, was a female beauty of a similar skin tone, her face like that of a model's and her petite body clearly exquisite beneath her own cotton uniform. They were, quite clearly, physical counterparts to my husband and I in so many ways, with the contrast in our skin tones creating such beautiful and lurid fantasies in my mind that I could barely even stand it.
I could feel myself, as the man I had secret and very sexual feelings for sauntered up to my table, getting very, very wet down below, so much so that it was becoming uncomfortable, and I decided right then and there that I was either the luckiest woman alive, or that I would not possibly survive this massage intact.
I held my breath, bracing myself in anticipation, and before I knew it the man's hands were upon me, pressing into me, and touching me in ways that would have been considered almost perversely intimate in any other circumstances. I was, quite honestly, swooning for this beautiful bastard, my eyelids fluttering dreadfully as his fingers crept along my quivering spine, and his touch affecting me on so many different levels that I could hardly stand it.
I looked over, then, and saw my husband being kneaded up by his own kinky vixen, her slight body heaving with effort as she swept along his body, pushing into him, so that I began to imagine his theoretical boner from before, and almost felt sorry for him as his cock was forced deeper, harder into the massage table.
But, for the time being, I knew I had more immediate issues to concern me, as just now my own sexpot of a masseuse was pouring massage oil all over my back, drenching me with the slick, greasy stuff, and working my skin up so thoroughly that I thought I might die with desire for him. He swept over every soft inch of wet terrain, his touch precise and clearly expert, dissolving me repeatedly in his grip and then building me back up again, devastating me as he worked through my flesh, and all the while causing me to crave more, more, more from this man.
Then, God help me, I felt his palm press firmly up against the small of my back, shooting pangs of ecstasy flowing through my body, and an embarrassingly loud moan of pleasure pouring from my trembling lips.
I was a goner, an absolute, complete goner, and at this point, I simply didn't care anymore. I surrendered to his every last brutally delicate touch, closing my eyes, and allowing myself to be swept away. I fantasized about turning over, and kissing the beautiful man on the lips right there on the spot, my body so hot, so aroused for him that I would have done any damn thing in the world on his behalf, and the fact that I was trapped by social propriety into laying still and motionless beneath him like this a form of bizarrely erotic torture in its own right.
He was just so good, so damn good, and at some point I must have fallen asleep beneath his touch, passing out in my pleasure and my suppressed inability to get what I really wanted from him, and the pleasure I felt as I was swept through that daze of a very perverse breed.
I have no idea how long I was out, blackness overpowering me indefinitely (in more ways than one, really,) but when I at last came to, it was at the sound of his voice, low, deep, and thunderous in my ear, and the words taking a moment for me to comprehend.
“Alright, that's the end of the massage I'm afraid. I hope you two are enjoying your stay here.”
“Oh, uh... Yes, yes we are, very much so,” said my husband, smiling, and I almost begrudged his presence for preventing me from flirting with my absolute sexpot of a masseuse.
But then silence ensued for a moment, and what was spoken next went a very long way in turning the situation around in a manner that was quite unexpected.
“You know...” said my masseuse, clearly choosing his words very carefully, seeming to think himself on thin ice, and hoping to entice rather than offend. “Maybe I shouldn't be asking you two this... Or, hell, I know I shouldn't be, for that matter. But my partner and I, we've seen you around the island for a few days now... You seem like a pretty cool couple, and like you might be the so
rt of people who like to have a little fun now and then. I really, really hope you don't get offended by me asking this, and I'll completely shut up about it if you do... But, uh... Have you guys ever thought about... Mixing things up a little bit? You know... Swinging?...”
My jaw, at this point, just about hit the damn ground.
My mind was spinning, and I thought for certain that I must be dreaming up all of this, fantasizing what I wanted to hear, and my confusion so great that I had to pinch myself in order to ensure that it was all really happening. But then I felt the pain, and realized that this was, in fact, real life, and I was now left panicking, not knowing what the hell I should say or do, and realizing that what I'd been so desperately yearning for now lay at my feet, but that I had no idea whether or not I would be able to claim it. I felt as though I should say something, should voice some opinion on the matter either way, whether a voice of dissent or a willingness to participate, but the words felt utterly trapped in my throat, and I knew, much to my anxiety, that the ultimate vote would end up falling upon my husband to decide.
Then I looked over at Adam, still stunned, and not sure what the hell I could possibly hope to find written across his face.
And then, something very, very warm descended across me, causing me to shiver from tit to toe, as I spied the perverse, seductive smile spread wide across my husband's kissable lips.
Holy hell...
It was, quite apparently, as easy as that, and the next thing I knew, Adam and I were being whisked back to their room, in the center of which sat two king-sized beds, simply waiting for the four of us to defile them- apparently, the couple engaged in this sort of activity on a fairly routine basis...
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