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A story inspired by many discussions…
We were empty nesters and it was mostly going pretty well. I have heard it said that the primary problem that many empty nesters have is that they can’t stop smiling. While my wife Jennifer missed the kids somewhat, texting made things much better than it would have been 30 years ago. She was slowly starting to become someone who was not a non-stop mom, but a regular person who occasionally thought of herself.
And if she wasn’t always thinking of herself, well, I often was. My wife had this almost eternal youth thing going. She was in her very early 50’s but she honestly looked about 20 years younger except for the random sprinklings of gray in her brown hair. Jennifer was probably in better shape than she was back then when the kids were younger, and the fact that about 2% of her hair was light gray against the rest of her darker hair looked really hot on her for some reason. Her skin was a beautiful light brown, and she had a dazzling smile that drew people to her. She didn’t have enormous breasts, but they were amazing. They had survived age and children proudly and defiantly, and they were topped with prominent nipples that made the package perfect.
On the face of it, I had nothing to complain about. I had a beautiful wife, and indeed a willing wife. She loved my passion for her and knew how to excite it – within limits. Unfortunately, she also had classic morals to go along with her classic beauty.
In the beginning of our relationship, I figured this would evolve as sex usually does in a relationship, but it didn’t. Well, it did, but at a glacial pace. After 30 years, she had reached a place where she was okay with me talking about fantasies for fun as long as I understood that she didn’t really think about these things as much as I did. And after 30 years of relatively vanilla sex, albeit with a gorgeous woman, I had a lot of fantasies.
I tried to talk her into a few of these fantasies, but she wouldn’t really bite on any of them. She didn’t hold it against me at all, even when I occasionally talked about having sex with another woman just for fun, but she mostly just laughed them off. Mostly.
While she made some very strong statements about not being interested in anything that didn’t look like a model marriage situation, you could tell that she didn’t really push back in a big way when I started talking about her showing herself off for other people, especially guys. She used slightly different language when I started talking about her being the center of attention poolside in a bikini that would become see-through when wet or maybe at a topless beach with a bunch of young men walking by. She wouldn’t say she wouldn’t do it, she’d just say something like, “That’s not the sort of thing a nice woman would do.” And then she’d start getting just a little more excited, sometimes so much that I think she was embarrassed that her body was betraying her.
Occasionally, when I wasn’t talking about it she’d clearly be trying to lead me into it in a way that didn’t make her look bad. “Wouldn’t it be terrible if people were watching us?”, she’d say in mid-fuck. “I’d be so embarrassed…they’d probably think I was a total slut”, she would say in the most innocent way possible so she could look like a good wife. But she knew where I’d pick up that conversation, assuming that her mentioning it didn’t get me off right then and there. The thought of some guys seeing me drill my wife while her tits bounced around and her legs wrapped around him was often just the thing that made me come like a teenager.
After decades of waiting for her to come out of shell a little, I decided I had to stop being patient and take a little more initiative. It was becoming clear that she didn’t hate the idea of being a little more free-spirited, but was paralyzed by the notion that her very large circle of conservative acquaintances might find out something and her reputation would be ruined. I needed to get her somewhere that she could be a little freer, where the atmosphere was just a little more sexually charged, and where she didn’t know anyone.
I knew she wouldn’t go for anything so obvious as one of those hedonistic sorts of resorts, and honestly I wasn’t looking for a completely booze-drenched atmosphere. I just thought that something that was focused primarily on adults might be what the doctor ordered, just to get her out of “good mom” mode and into something just a little more uninhibited and grown up. Most of our vacations had been touristy ones with the kids, and it took a while to get her to warm up to the idea. But again, when I made it clear it would make me happy to hit a fairly upscale, all-inclusive resort set in the Caribbean and just take it easy for a week, she was happy to acquiesce. I wasn’t really hoping for a miracle, but I’m the sort of person who is naturally happier in problem-solving mode and couldn’t help but be just a little energized by this.
We don’t live in a big eve gelen gaziantep escort city, so any plane travel destination is usually a bit of a haul for us. But we made it to the resort by the early evening in a good mood. The resort itself was not so much a traditional hotel set up so much as a set of duplex bungalows scattered around a central location with a restaurant, common area and pool. The suites weren’t large, but they had a separate living and bedroom area along with a kitchenette. There was a bar in the restaurant, and there was a separate bar by the pool. The pool area also included an in-ground hot tub that was starting to become more popular since the sun had started to set.
We like to go for walks, especially on vacation, and we spent the early evening touring the surprisingly large property. It gave us a feel for what the place was like and also helped it relax us from the plane flight out. And it didn’t hurt that I had grabbed a whiskey sour from the bar as we went out. Jennifer said she didn’t feel like a drink tonight, but what she actually meant is that she didn’t want to look like the kind of person who ordered a drink as soon as she hit the property. As she drank most of my whiskey sour we took a look at the place and were feeling pretty good about our decision to come here.
As we passed back by the pool area so I could get an actual drink for myself, the hot tub was starting to get a little more lively. It was filling up with people and these people were clearly on vacation to get away from their normal lives, and it was exactly what I was hoping to find in this resort. People were showing skin, looking at skin and no one seemed to have any concern about it in the least. I could have stayed and watched for quite a while since there is nothing hotter than a woman who feels comfortable in her skin, and there were a lot of very comfortable women there. There was also a nice variety in ages, which I think was comforting to my wife as she had expressed concern that this seemed on paper like a place for people half our age. Given the price, I was actually a little surprised to see as many younger folks there as there were.
I asked my wife if she wanted to change into our suits, knowing full well that the hot tub and booze scene was a little more mine than hers. She hesitated a bit, and then said she was really too tired this evening but was looking forward to it some of the other nights. It sounded like a bit of an excuse but the way she said it made me optimistic.
We went back to just relax a bit, get cleaned up and then hit the sack. We unpacked and went through our normal evening routine. The bedroom had a reasonably large window that looked towards the property. It didn’t look out directly on to the common area, but it did look out over some of the pathways that ran between the different bungalows. As she got undressed and got ready for bed, I noticed she didn’t close the blinds. I called her out on it, and she said, “It’s a nice view and I don’t think anyone will be out there. They are probably not supposed to be closed.” That was a very funny way of saying that, I thought. But she is the sort who finds comfort in doing things she’s supposed to do. Me, I honestly didn’t give a shit. I spent years doing organized sports and have been naked in front of god knows how many people. And if people wanted to see how hot my wife is on this vacation, well that was sort of the point.
We slept well and woke up feeling good. I woke up hard as a rock as I often do. Often this is met with an exhausted eye roll from my wife. This was one of those mornings where it wasn’t. She moved her arm under my neck, which is our language for, “You need to climb on top of me.” I think that she was too embarrassed to come out and ask for some foreplay most of the time but felt totally comfortable with having me lay on top of her with my hard dick rubbing back and forth on her crotch. I mean, that’s sort of a hug, right? A hug between two people. A hug where one person is naked and the other is wearing some very thin panties. A hug where there is a lot of skin pressed against each other, including some glorious tits that would cause nations to go to war. A hug where both hips are sliding back and forth in a much-practiced rhythm.
I reached down to remove her panties since that was our system. She would rarely remove them herself during sex. I don’t know why that is. I think it was more defensible to her sense of good grooming if her husband removed them. She wasn’t a bad girl that way, just a good girl who had unfortunately found herself in a situation with a rock hard dick that she would be forced to fuck. And the fact that she was dripping wet? Well, that was just her body protecting itself since that big dick was probably going to pound her hard.
I started rubbing my dick slowly around the outside of her pussy as I often do to make sure she was ready, but she was having gaziantep eve gelen escort none of that. She grabbed my ass and pulled me in all the way. I didn’t need any additional signals after that. This was not going to be a slow gentle morning coupling where we talked about what might be fun to do later. This was going to be fast. As I got a good rhythm going and started using my hands on her ass and tits, she was clearly getting into an unusually receptive manner. After a few short minutes, she was going at it like I had never seen.
“You look so fucking hot right now. A good girl being very bad. What would people think if they saw you getting pounded so hard right while you spread your legs and take it?”
She just closed her eyes and started breathing harder and moving faster.
“And with the blinds open even. Someone could walk by right now, and you know what they would see? Your naked body being pounded while your tits just bounce back and forth.”
She started grunting harder, and I could feel myself starting to boil. I wish I had porn star stamina sometimes, but porn stars don’t look like her and they don’t have sex like we do. As we were both getting ready to come, I could have sworn I saw motion out of the side of my vision at the window. A shadow briefly moved across the bed, which normally would have startled me during sex, but I was coming now and so was she.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”, I said as I emptied myself in her. She’s not usually one for bad language, but under the circumstances, it was all I was thinking. She came hard with a little whimper and kept it up for an unusually long time.
As we lay there feeling rather proud of ourselves, kissing and laughing softly, she said, “I thought I saw the light in the room flicker a bit.” I wanted to tell her that I thought someone had walked by and possibly spent a little time at our window, but I didn’t want to freak her out and have a celibate rest of the vacation. So I chose my words very carefully. “Well, I mean, I guess it’s possible that someone walked by on their way to breakfast or something, but it seems unlikely.”
“Oh. Well, they probably got an unexpected surprise this morning!”
All I could think was, “What the hell?”
We were not in a hurry to go down to the main area for breakfast, so it was close to 9:30 by the time we straggled in. I actually don’t mind sharing tables for hotel breakfasts with folks I’ve never met, but the place had mostly cleared out, so we took an empty table and sat down to eat. My wife is a relatively fearless eater by the standards of most women. She makes it clear that she doesn’t exercise to look like a supermodel, she exercises for the sake of waffles. Between the two of us gobbling down our favorite meal of the day, and our somewhat loud and animated conversation, we did not look like a couple of introverted people who wanted to be left alone.
At some point, there was a really attractive woman and her husband at the breakfast spread not far from our table, and she was looking over at us and smiling and it seemed that she was genuinely enjoying our happiness and occasionally making eye contact with us. As loud as we were talking, she couldn’t help but be part of the conversation. At some point, I saw her very slightly struggling with the DIY waffle maker.
Being the gallant gentleman that I am, I got up, covered the approximately 5 feet between us and said, “Did you need some help with that? I am the local waffle expert.”
“Is that really a thing,” she said.
“Oh sure. I actually have a degree in waffleology from Breakfast University.”
She smirked in a way that it wasn’t clear whether she thought I was vaguely amusing or was a mental patient that must be avoided at all costs.
“You’ve probably never heard of it. It was sort of a party school.” But I proceeded to get her waffle started while engaging in a small chat with her and her husband. By the time the waffle was done, we had all spoken a few words to each other, and my wife, ever the proper social animal, invited them to sit with us. If it was just me, I probably would have continued behaving like an ass, but fortunately my wife did proper introductions.
“My name is Jennifer and my husband’s name is Jim. And despite his behavior, he’s a normal guy who actually does make good waffles.”
Our new guest, clearly happy that we appeared to be actually nice people, said, “I’m Olivia and this is my husband, Ken.” He smiled and raised his coffee mug to acknowledge his wife while biting into a bagel.
We all started chatting about the place, not in a particularly substantive way, but still all enjoying ourselves. Olivia had a dignified and commanding manner about her, but not so dignified that it was off-putting. It didn’t help that she had shoulder-length dark brown hair and a face that you couldn’t stop looking at. She was wearing a relatively modest top, but there was a gaziantep eve gelen escort bayan suggestion of some slightly larger than average breasts there that, I needed to remind myself, belonged to someone who was not my wife.
It was nice to meet friendly people since chatting with strangers in person has become a bit of a lost art. The gals were doing most of the talking while Ken and I understood our conversational support roles. At some point, it turned out that both Ken and my wife were physicians, and the conversation dynamic shifted to Jennifer and Ken talking about medicine while Olivia and I had small side conversations. It was looking like a nice harmless breakfast when the conversation began to take a weird turn.
“Hopefully we’ll see you around more”, my wife said. And she meant it. She’s always looking for folks to hang out with.
“Actually”, Olivia said, jumping back into the conversation with Jennifer, “I think we are neighbors. Aren’t you in the other side of our duplex,
“Yes!” said my wife, happy that fate was conspiring to get her some company for the trip. “How did you know we were there?”
There was a pause. A very slight pause, but a pause nonetheless. “Oh, I think I’ve seen you coming and going.”
And then, even subtler than the pause, was another smirk from Olivia. People are good at lying with their words, but not nearly as good as with their faces. I think we would have noticed them around the bungalow, and Jennifer would certainly have introduced herself. And we really hadn’t been getting out all that much. Then it hit me, we were having breakfast with a woman who, perhaps only briefly, had seen us fucking like rabbits. She had seen my cock driving in and out of my wife’s pussy, and now she was sitting there drinking coffee, talking about some of the shops just off the property and smiling like nothing was going on. And smirking.
Ken, on the other hand, seemed oblivious and clearly wasn’t going to let this story go down easy like a good husband. Lost in thought, he said, “When? We just got here late last night, and we haven’t been out at all except for your quick trip to get us some coffee this morning.”
“Ken, we have next door neighbors that you probably couldn’t pick out of a police line-up.”, Olivia said with a laugh, albeit a kind one. Ken just smiled, properly chastened, and went back to his bagel.
Unfortunately, I have an almost dog-like ability to wear my emotions on my face, and Olivia had clearly noticed that my mind was racing and that I was putting two and two together. And there was again just a slight crack of a smile there that the others didn’t notice. She had seen us, but clearly was not traumatized by the experience. She almost seemed to be reveling in it a bit, or at least reveling in my very slight surprise. Meanwhile, Ken and Jennifer carried on like long-time colleagues.
After my brain had processed all Olivia’s revelations, which really only took a few seconds, I quickly realized that an extremely hot woman had watched my wife and I have sex, and was actively chatting with us and trying to get to know us better. A better man than me would have more dignity than to say this, but knowing she was watching me at my best was totally turning me on. But knowing that she had no problem watching us and that my wife was quickly making a new friend really had the gears in my head turning.
Olivia eventually made some polite excuses for her and Ken to go back to their room. Ken seemed to be pretty clueless as to what that would be for, but he followed along rather obediently. Jennifer kept dragging out the conversation with Ken as Olivia was moving them towards the door, but eventually they exchanged phone numbers and made vague plans for us all to get together later.
Jennifer and I finished up in a slightly more leisurely fashion but eventually started making our way back to the bungalow. On the way back Jennifer continued to be delighted that we had started making friends here and talked fairly animatedly about some of the things that Ken had said. I didn’t really think anything of this as Jennifer seems to be everyone’s friend after speaking with them for 5 minutes.
We got back to the room, sat down, and checked out the website of the hotel to see which of the activities we wanted to be sure to do while we were here. Jennifer is a little more of a fan of the structured activities while I’m just a little more the sort to either wander around or hang out by the pool. I was going to be good with anything she wanted although I was really hoping we wouldn’t get over-scheduled.
Nothing really caught my eye until I saw the massages. They had the normal sorts of choices, but they also had the increasingly popular ‘couple’s massage’, where a couple can get massages together. I was totally down for that, but my wife had never really been a big fan of massages. I’m not sure if that was because she was conservative or just had had a bad experience before. But I threw out the idea, hoping she might bite.
“Hmm… I’m not sure. I’ve never really figured out how it’s supposed to work and what clothes you are supposed to keep on or when you get undressed or things like that.”
“I don’t think there are hard and fast rules about things, and I think they’ll be happy to explain anything or answer any questions. We can’t be the first folks to wander in there without a clue.”
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