I suppose, in retrospect, I could have known what was coming. Not literally, but figuratively. There are times in your life when you get a surprise so great that it jolts you from the fuzzy consciousness you thought was your crystal-clear realm. This was one of those times. I sit, pensively recounting to myself and the audience the events that led to this serendipitous series of highly fortunate events that have me sharing this tale.
The wheels of the twin prop thudded down on the scorching tarmac with a heart-jolting thud. The heat shimmer emanating from the surrounding airfields told of the oppressive heat and humidity about to slap our collective faces when the doors opened.
The saving grace was the view further afield. Turquoise waters, blue skies, and the complete absence of high-rise buildings meant I was back at my happy place for another Christmas. The Fijian resort I was working at was far removed from the major cities and traditional resorts reserved for the majority of travellers during the holiday period. Northern Hemisphere residents were seeking some mid-winter sun, and their Southern Hemisphere counterparts were looking for beautiful holidays within a short flight from their home countries.
I was on another working holiday period, trying to pay my way through the last year of college, which was coming up, while enjoying a gorgeous destination with beautiful locals and all the sights of a dream holiday, without the cost.
I’d done the same last year, working as a barman at the small resort’s main bar and restaurant for the three odd months of leave I had. The management was happy to have me back, meaning a little boost to my self-confidence, which was an area of improvement I sought.
After making my rounds through the management offices, greeting old friends and meeting new faces, I made my way to the main recreation area of the resort. A beautiful, massive saltwater pool was overlooked by the main outdoor dining area, all of which looked out to the endless turquoise ocean wrapped by the fine white sands and vibrant coral reef that was the main reason the resort was constructed in this location.
I was back. I was happy.
Back home, I was three years through a four-year degree with a probable master’s to add to that. Working behind a bar for a few months was both a relief and a welcome pleasure. The drudgery of the last year had been somewhat mitigated by a surprisingly enjoyable unit in psychology. This had brought large amounts of self-reflection, resulting in my newfound determination to live my life with the absence of the biggest cause of angst—indecision.
I flicked a bar towel over my shoulder in a well-rehearsed move that signaled my return to the bar and welcomed the first guests in my first shift in the main bar. As people filed in for drinks, which would become dinner for most. Their smiles and light summer dresses reflected the mood that lit the room.
Out of the window, small sailing yachts and motor launches could be seen mooring at the wharf while their inhabitants disembarked with their stark white clothing, which seemed so popular with the boat crowd.
I’m still not sure who I spotted first. Him or her.
But sure enough, in walked a familiar face from back home. I checked twice to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Long graying hair, a triple chin, unkempt clothing, and a walk that stood out from across the room. It was him alright. He was a lecturer from my first year at college. Professor Malcolm Blackwell. He was a senior academic in cognitive science and human factors. Whatever that is. He lectured me in “Introduction to Cognitive Processes.”
He was condescending, casually rude, and carried the arrogance that only seems to survive inside academic institutions. If I asked him a question, he answered it as though the fault lay in me for asking.
He never bothered to tame his hair nor the soft double chin that rested above his collar. He spoke down and mocked students with the confidence of a man who had never been held accountable by equals.
The greatest irony in his self-appointed importance was his moral inconsistency. What he lectured about during the day was not reflected in his marital behavior. Word was that he had been a serial cheater on his wife. And the word was strong.
His wife, on the other hand.
Like I said, I wasn’t sure who I saw first. Short and striking. Dark hair, librarian glasses that softened her face, and a gorgeous, unmissable figure that made you notice her before you realized you were staring.
She walked beside what I could only assume was their daughter. She was taller than her mother, about eighteen or so, with a nice smile and slim figure.
They made their way to reception, clearly having just arrived. Then disappeared upstairs.
I was taken aback. The shock of seeing someone from a different part of my life show up so soon after we left that place, plus the fact that the notorious womanizer was with someone so strikingly attractive, was a blow to all people who take pride in their appearance in the hope that it will increase their stock with those who they hope will find them attractive.
I joked to myself that he was either as funny as fuck at home, or he had one massive cock.
The daughter made her way through the bar, dressed in a single-piece yellow and white striped swimsuit, with a resort towel draped over her shoulder, sunglasses at the end of her nose, and a large sunhat. Moments later, her parents came through. The Prof wore a white linen shirt that was crumpled. Fair enough—it was nearly impossible to get ironed properly, let alone while travelling. What wasn’t ok, however, was his speedo shorts under his shirt. This only sought to advertise his hairy belly and skinny legs. Another kick in the guts to those of us who look after our appearance.
The Prof’s wife sat meekly beside her husband, head downwards, her glasses hidden beneath a floppy sunhat, wearing a loose, see-through teal long-sleeved shirt, with the sleeves half rolled up and the top three buttons undone. Under the shirt was a single-piece swimsuit, plain blue, that matched the teal layered above it. I tried to not stare as they walked through the bar and out onto the sun-drenched landing over the pool, with day lounges placed beside tropical potted plants for strategic shade.
Their daughter was beside the pool, while the married couple chose a spot on the upper landing and lay beside one another.
Then it happened. A fire was lit in my belly.
One of his arrogant arms reached over and slapped his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She didn’t respond. He repeated this action twice more. She looked up from her book. He pointed in towards the bar and gave her some instruction or other. He then said something again and gestured my way with his head.
She put her book down, stood up, hitched her shirt backup, and started walking my way.
I thought to myself, “Lazy prick could’ve done that himself. He’s not even reading a book.”
As she strode over, I made up my mind for sure.
“Hi there!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as I greeted her.
“Can I please have……?” she hesitated.
“Ma’am, you can have all the time you want. You’re on holiday!” I replied to ease any unease at her hesitation.
“Oh, thank you.” “Came,” her reply. “So many choices.”
“Well.” I continued. “Lucky you’ve got all the time in the world to decide, hey.”
Truth was I was in no hurry to serve her. She was gorgeous. I’m twenty-three; I’d say the Prof was in her early fifties, but she was younger than him. Early forties, perhaps younger. Her eyes were warm, her skin clear, and her manner disarming. A pleasing shift from her husband.
“Oh, just two Coronas, please.” Her shoulders hung as she looked back at her husband.
“Yes, ma’am. Safe choice.” I replied while fetching the brews from a fridge behind me and popping the caps. As I handed them over the bar, I looked in her eyes and held her look for a moment longer than I probably should have. She smiled back at me.
“Ma’am,” I started, remembering my new personal rule to not be wracked with indecision. “Full disclosure, I know your husband. He lectured me a couple of years ago at college.”
Her eyes softened more, and her head tilted as she took in the information. “Is that right! And what did you think of my husband, the lecturer?”
I paused before replying, “He’s done very well for himself.” I held her glance again. “Enjoy the beers, ma’am.”
She stood up away from the bar and straightened her gaze before leaning back in. “You didn’t answer my question, and my name is Claire.”
“I did answer your question, and my name is Reece.”
“Oh, I see.” She continued, “It’s what you didn’t say, isn’t it? Will he remember you?” she questioned.
“Most probably not,” I replied honestly. I was a nervous freshman, with not a lot to say, especially after being shot down by this man.
“Well, we’ll see. I’ll send him up for the next drink. I won’t say anything to him.” Claire moved away and sashayed back to her waiting husband.
“Wow,” I thought to myself. “She seems really cool and is up for a bit of fun.” My resolve was steeled further.
Twenty minutes later the man in question rose to his feet and wandered over my way. His walk reminded me of someone trying to manage chafe without showing it. His shirt had been unbuttoned from the top and bottom.
“Two Coronas, son.” Came his order. His voice is unmissable. “Yes, sir,” I replied as I tried to stay low-key to not raise his attention. As I rang his order through, I could sense his stare drilling into my forehead.
“You look familiar. I think I lectured you.” The game was over before it began.
“Yes, sir, you did.”
His reply was predictably numb and arrogant: “Good to see you using it well, working behind a bar.”
Before I could reply, he’d spun around and was walking back to his upmarket wife, who was back in the depths of her book.
I mulled over the events and made my mind up. I hastily grabbed a drinks napkin and prepared it with the view that it would be Claire’s turn to fetch the drinks—a role I suspected she would have for the entire holiday based on what I’d seen so far.
Predictably, she sauntered back to the bar about twenty minutes later. Being a relatively slow afternoon, there were few people actually near the bar, patrons choosing to sit outside, by the pool, or in the cabana setup on the grassed area at either end of the pool.
“Well, what was the verdict?” Claire asked as she took her last two steps towards the bar.
“He’s got a sharp mind; I’ll give him that.” I replied.
“Did he speak politely?” She inquired further.
“No ma’am, he did not.”
“He does that. A lot.”
I indicated the same beers as they’d had previously. She indicated by nodding that I was correct in my assumption.
I took a deep breath as I made my way to the bar. I grabbed the napkin I had arranged and set it to the side of the other two napkins so that there were three lined up. On the two unmarked ones, I set the beverages before catching Claire’s eyes and nodding toward the third napkin.
Her eyes travelled down to the focus of my attention. On the bottom corner of the folded white paper was an arrow pointing up. I had folded the corner to indicate for her to lift the fold.
She glanced up at me, with a glint in her eye, before lifting the fold.
“Claire, if you find any of this inappropriate, please tell me and I will stop immediately. I’m aware of what I’m looking at, and I’m also aware of the line. I find you strikingly attractive. I’d like to continue our conversations for as long as you’re here. Tell me to stop anytime.”
Rather than wait for an answer, I continued on my way by moving to a full glass cleaner and busying myself with the task of emptying it. As I took the first lot of glasses out, I looked up and caught her eye. She looked at me, folded the napkin, and put it in her shirt top pocket before lifting the beers, turning, and returning to her husband.
I didn’t see either of them at the bar again that day.
I resolved to myself that I would either get a punch in the face from a disgruntled senior academic, a disciplinary hearing with my boss, or a slap in the face from an aggrieved, albeit highly attractive, wife. The wait was on.
The next day, my shift started as normal. The family came through again at a similar time to yesterday—perhaps an hour earlier. Their daughter did the same thing, moving next to the pool in a two-piece this time. A lilac top with a pistachio-colored bottom. She had the same book her mother was reading yesterday. Hair pulled back into a simple ponytail meant that she could don a baseball cap to protect her face from the sun.
Then the moment of truth. The professor and his wife strolled in. They’d been on a snorkeling adventure and were no doubt dehydrated from the hot sun and hotter ocean water. A thing I had been trying to stay on top of, hence my now near addiction to drinking water whenever I had a spare moment.
Claire fixed me a stare and wandered to the bar.
“Same as yesterday, please, young man.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” “Came,” was my reply, my heart pounding out of my chest and breathing shallow. As I got the drinks ready for her, I looked to the side as I rang the till and murmured, “You look stunning.” She did. She was wearing the same overshirt, but it was still wet around the waist. Underneath I could see she was wearing a plain white bikini. This contrast of her dark hair and the pristine white fabric made her look like the fabric had been molded to her figure. It cascaded her curves like the finest clay sculpture.
As I finished the transaction, I finished our interaction: “Please, enjoy the view. I know I am.”
She smirked to herself before turning and being on her way.
On her next trip, I deliberately printed a receipt for her, even though she didn’t ask for one. I circled the order number and gave it to her. I paused and pointed at the circled number before looking her in the eyes. “This is NOT my number, ok.”
Claire smiled, took the receipt, and tucked it into the same shirt pocket. I placed a napkin under her drink. Pausing to read her napkin, on which I’d quickly scrawled, “Voluntary concealment = active choice. I WILL stop anytime you want.”
The second piece of paper was added to her pocket before she was off back to her family.
Later on, their daughter came to order a drink for herself and her parents. Being a server of alcohol, I was legally required to check identification. She was six months over eighteen and named Selina. I was able to serve her from then on and wasn’t required to check her ID again for that trip. What was strange was the way she kept glancing at me during the transaction.
“You seem careful.” She started.
“I take pride in my job.” I replied.
“Well,” she responded, “being careful is a great start. Have a great night.”
“Thank you.” I concluded, thinking about that being a strange interaction.
The next day, after lunch, the family decided to laze in and around the pool together. Because glass was not allowed in the pool area, I had to pour drinks into plastic cups for any patrons in this area. Claire came up to me, a towel wrapped around her body. As she ordered, I glimpsed the white bikini from yesterday. The towel loosened as she ordered, not dramatically—just enough to change the temperature of the moment. She didn’t adjust it. I had to adjust my gaze.
“I have to pour these into plastic cups.” As I poured, I followed up: “I’m having to concentrate very hard on this, given my company.”
Before she spun around, she leaned closer in and whispered, “I thought you’d like that.” Just like that, she hitched her towel back into place and was gone.
“Jesus!” I silently exclaimed. “She’s fucking gorgeous!”
The next day was my day off. This meant I could drift through the resort like I had no role, just another body moving slowly in the heat.
I saw Claire by the pool. Selina was with her—stretched out on the lounger beside her, headphones on. The phone was angled close to her face. Whatever she was listening to had her nodding faintly, absorbed enough to disappear into.
Claire wore another bikini today. A brown base color with pink piping and string ties on both the bottom and top. The top served to complement her gorgeous figure and brown skin. Her glasses sat neatly on her nose as she gazed into her book.
A towel was folded, untouched, like it was there for appearances. She glanced up as I passed, then back down at her book, as if checking something off rather than noticing me.
I kept walking and ordered a coffee. Standing shirtless, I was pretty sure I could feel some attention coming from the loungers. I was in shape, especially for my age. I was enjoying the fact that it was the sweet spot in life where I could get and keep muscle easily and shed excess fat without too much effort. My blonde wavy hair only got lighter in the Fijian summer.
When I’d finished fumbling with the lid, I turned back. Claire was leaning closer to Selina, saying something I couldn’t hear. Selina smiled, adjusted her headphones, and rolled onto her side, back half-turned to the pool.
Only then did Claire look at me again.
No wave. No smile. Just a slight shift of her chair—enough to change the angle, enough to create a narrow lane of privacy that only she and I could detect.
I slowed as I passed. She didn’t look at my face when she spoke quietly.
“Day off,” she almost murmured. Not a question.
“Yeah.”
She waited a beat, eyes still on the pool. “Enjoy it.”
“I already am.”
Her bikini, her gaze, her deliberately distracting Selina. Oh yes. I was enjoying this.
I walked on, coffee cooling in my hand.
That afternoon, I swam out to the buoys and floated there, the resort shrinking behind me. When I surfaced, I saw them. Claire in the shallows, Selina out deeper, ducking under the waves. Claire was attentive and composed. The Prof was a step behind her, trousers rolled, watching the scene rather than joining it. I slipped on the snorkel and went under. When I came up again, Claire glanced toward the buoys, and our eyes met—briefly. She turned her attention back to Selina. The Prof’s gaze followed a moment later, then moved on. That was enough. I swam parallel to the rope and came in well away from them. Letting the distance hold. The boundary now was important.
That night I went to the resort precinct to pick up some dinner for myself. I walked with my towel wrapped around my waist, no shoes, but wearing sunglasses. Walking the other way, Claire saw me and deliberately slowed her pace to let other guests get ahead of her. Without looking around, she asked, “What do you suggest for dinner?”
Looking straight into her eyes, I responded, “Claire, the best things to eat on this island are not on the menu.”
She didn’t change her slow gait as she walked past me; however, her expression took on a new roused and stirred manner.
“Are you working tomorrow? It’s a big night.”
“Yep,” I replied. “New Year’s is one of the biggest! Hope to see you there.”
The next morning the sun rose brightly as it does this time of year. I made my way to the pool for a freshening up before tucking into some breakfast. A quick jog before the heat went crazy was the plan, so I headed to the gym. As I thumped along on the treadmill, a number of patrons came and went, with their ideas of paying off the calories they were going to consume that night before the fact. A sound plan.
Selina came into the gym. She didn’t acknowledge me—why would she? Her idea was to do some light weights before stretching and walking on the stepper. She wore a light blue pair of activewear shorts and a black crop-top and singlet combination. Her mother walked past the gym with the Prof on their way for a morning walk, apparently. She wore Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses, a baseball cap, a pair of long leggings that were a deep purple, and a matching mint-colored top with purple piping. Her figure cut a laser-like path to my memory. I had trouble focusing for the remainder of the workout.
That evening, work began at 3pm, as we had preparation to do. The partygoers started arriving at about 5pm, and the drinks and music got underway. Before long a familiar face kicked my heart into drive. Professor Blackwell arrived with his wife and daughter. The Prof was wearing a pressed short-sleeved Gant shirt, white shorts, and tan-colored boat shoes with no socks. Claire was in a figure-hugging white dress that went just below her knees, with her hair out and back in a high ponytail with her fringe out and over her head, tucked behind one ear. Her dress had a high neck and a two-inch collar fastened with a single stud at the front.
Selina had on a bikini top with jeans and lace-up Converse ankle-high street shoes. Between the three of them, they had the dress spectrum covered.
As the night progressed, it was becoming obvious that the Prof had decided to indulge. I wasn’t serving him myself—that was the domain of other staff until now. I had caught Claire’s eye once or twice as the pace at the bar increased. Selina had ended up talking with some friends she’d met and eventually ended up on the dance floor. At one stage, Claire joined her as she finished off another glass of champagne. Prof. Blackwell kept up a fair pace of beers throughout the night, and it was becoming obvious that his eyes were wandering to those of a significant age beneath that of his own.
He was drunk.
By eleven pm, he was sitting on a chair, not talking to anyone. His quiet manner was going to make conversation difficult, but he seemed happy enough eyeing off the crowd. Selina came to take him home.
“Come on, Dad. Time to go.” She hoisted her dad up and held his arm as he made his way to the door. Surprisingly, he made no attempt to stay and was relatively cheerful on his way out. Unfortunately, we all saw him take in a wide and long stare at a young lady who was on her way in when he was going out. Same old disappointment for the family, I could only assume.
I finished up my shift at half an hour past midnight and started to make my way out of the venue.
“Hey, where are you going?” A familiar voice, just louder than I’d heard it before.
“Hey Claire, just heading home. Are you ok?”
“Yep, I’m fine. Just…not sure where my accommodation is…”
“Are you for real?” I doubted her sincerity.
“No. I’m fine. Just been hoping we could have a chat before I leave tomorrow.” She wasn’t drunk. At least not like she could have been.
“Well, I’m happy to walk you home if you want. I think I saw your family leave earlier.”
“Yes, Reece. I think we both saw them leave, didn’t we?”
I smirked, then smiled at the obvious being stated.
As we walked towards her villa, she brushed up against me as we turned a corner on the concrete path. Her touch was enough for me to jolt fully awake in a flash.
Claire broke the silence. “You’ve been fun to have around. I don’t ever do things like this, so in a weird way, thank you.”
“Claire,” I began, “I wouldn’t ever tell someone how to live, but you’re only accountable to yourself.”
She brushed up against me again. This time more purposefully. I put my arm around her as we walked. It was late, it was dark. I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t. In my mind I was.
As we arrived at the door, she turned to face me. Standing on the step higher than me, she looked me in the eyes.
“Reece, I just want…” I cut her off by leaning forward and kissing her on her full lips. She didn’t pull back.
She stopped for a moment before leaning in towards me and kissing me forcefully, her soft lips pressing against mine as her tongue searched for mine.
“Will you come inside?”
“What about your family?” I queried.
“Selina sleeps like the dead, and her room is right up the other end, and you saw the state of Malcolm. He’ll be out of it as well.”
“Do you not want to go somewhere private?” I was aroused but wary of getting caught playing around with my lecturers’ wife.
“Please, I don’t want to be found out like this. I’m sure it’ll be safe. We’ll be quiet.”
I kissed her once more, this time letting my tongue meet hers. I pulled her close to me, allowing her bust to press up against me. My hardening state was starting to cause some discomfort, and I was sure Claire could feel that as the night air and stealthy quiet continued to hide our dalliance.
“Reece, I’ve never done…”
“I know. It’s up to you.” I replied quickly. I didn’t want her to think I was pushing anything beyond what she was comfortable with.
Claire continued, “My husband has…”
“I know.” I replied again. “This is you. This is your decision.”
Claire turned and quietly opened the door with her key, choosing to use that instead of the tag, which I could only assume was because of the electronic noise from using the tag.
When we got inside, she quietly nudged the door shut. Inside, it was dark. I could make out that we were in a living area, with a hallway going in either direction to bedrooms situated at either end of the villa. In front of us was a third bedroom and the kitchen to the side of that.
Claire led me to the lounge, which was tucked out of view from the bedrooms at either end in a corner of the large lounge room.
There wasn’t a sound or ray of light coming from either end of the villa. Claire leaned in and kissed me passionately again. Her gorgeous figure stood out against the moonlight leaking into the villa through the sheer curtains. My fire was lit again as I started to engorge once again. These warm, soft lips and tongue are delivering a dose of ecstasy well above what they should.
I heard her breathing shorten as we continued to kiss. My arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against me as I used my other hand to run through her hair and tease her fringe away from her face.
My cock continued to fill and now pressed hard up against my pants, which in turn were pressed up against Claire’s white dress.
I raised my hand from her waist and fumbled with the single button at the top of her dress. It snapped from its position and fell open, leaving the single zipper to hold back her bust.
Without hesitation, I reached up and flipped the tag of her zipper, letting gravity and the pressure from her breasts push it down. Once this momentum had stopped, I reached for the tag and lowered it as far as it would go, using my fingers to muffle the sound of the zip as it made its way south. As it reached its final destination, I gently teased the dress off her shoulders and caught it as it fell to the ground.
Now, in the moonlight, I could take in what I’d imagined and watched from far away over the last week. This goddess had the body of someone half her age. Her bust was firm and voluptuous, her waist narrow, and her hips hourglass. I kissed her neck as I slid my hands down her shoulders, between her breasts, over her bra and down her ribs, over her stomach, and over each hip, where they came to rest.
Grasping each hip, I pulled her onto my hardening cock, which by now was impossible to hide.
I kissed her smooth neck on both sides as my hands slid back up, over her ass, then up her lower back and up to her bra, where I unclipped her clasp before moving my hands back down to her waist, leaving her undone bra in place.
Meanwhile, I could feel Claire start to paw at my pants, fumbling for my top button, which she flicked open with a woman’s gentle touch before treating my zipper with the same contempt I had for hers. She flipped the tag up, and let the blood-filled arousal in my trousers take care of the action from there. My zip fell to half-mast as my aching cock got its first sense of freedom.
Claire helped it to the bottom and pulled my trousers’ waist apart to help free my cock.
“Sit down,” she spoke for the first time since we got inside.
I turned and sat on the fabric lounge in front of her. Claire leaned forwards and caressed her bra straps off her shoulders and let them fall in front of her.
Now standing in front of me, topless, in nothing but a pair of plain white panties, this forty-year-old pulled her hair back and kneeled over me on the lounge. For the first time, I was able to take in her gorgeous breasts. I’d estimate they were a C cup, possibly a D, but the way she leaned in and thrust them in my mouth showed that she was so very comfortable with her body.
She started with her left breast, holding it steady for me to kiss and lick. Her nipple became erect almost instantly as my tongue flicked over it and her small areola before I took it in my mouth and gently sucked.
She then swapped to her right breast. Same process—kiss, lick, flick, then suck.
Claire then withdrew her right nipple from my mouth, raised her hands up, and gathered both her firm breasts before leaning back in on me, giving me both nipples at once. I had two nipples in my mouth at once as she squeezed her tits together for me. My hands worked their way to the hem of her panties, where I teased my index fingers under the fabric and raised my hands up, grasping the top of the waist.
Unable to pull them down, I compromised by bringing my left hand down to the midpoint of her panties and pulling the fabric away from her skin. I then grasped this fabric and pulled it to the side of her pussy using my right hand.
Without hesitating and without permission, I rested my middle finger directly along her labia. Two surprises hit me at once. One, she was smooth. Really smooth. Two, she was already lubricated. Really lubricated.
“Ohmmm,” I exclaimed with my mouth full of breast as I ran my finger up and down her smooth, wet pussy.
Claire leaned down and whispered into my ear, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
At the mention of that, my primal instinct took over, and I curled my middle finger up and slid it inside this unbelievably attractive wife and mother.
Claire’s head rocked back as she sat up on my finger. She once again grasped her tits and began massaging her nipples as she rode my finger.
“Oh, let me suck your cock.” She exclaimed, more of an order than a request.
“No way.” I replied. “Not yet. It’s your turn to sit.”
I sat up and stood up, holding this short vixen in my hands as I stood. She had her legs wrapped around me still, and her bust was pressed against my chest.
I spun her around and sat her gently on the lounge, where I had been moments before.
Now standing in front of her, I lifted my shirt off with one hand, over my back, as I lowered my pants and stepped out of them. Standing in front of Claire, my erection was straining against my white boxer shorts. I took another step towards her face and slowly lowered my shorts, which now sat some three inches from her face, letting my cock spring from its enclosure.
Usually, I’m seven inches long, but the best asset about my manliness is my girth. I’m thick. Really thick. With that go the veins, which protrude when I’m really aroused. Like I am right now.
“Oh my god!” Claire’s reaction was positive. She reached out and grasped my shaft with one hand and immediately started stroking it up and down, running her fingers up and over my cock tip, down to my balls, and back up. She took her other hand and started using it to massage my balls while she slowly jerked me. She started to line up my mushroom tip with her mouth, intending to attempt to inhale my venous shaft.
“Stop right there.” I instructed her. I grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her cheek and under her chin before pulling it away, where I kneeled in front of her.
I once again grasped her panties. “Ladies before gentlemen,” I whispered as I lifted her hips up and off the lounge as I removed her final piece of clothing.
With my cock swinging in the nighttime air, I parted this wife’s thighs, then pulled her pelvis forward to the edge of the lounge, giving me amazing access to her smooth pussy.
I ran my hands up over her calves, over her knees, and then up the inside thigh before landing on her hips. I could see from the light that she was glistening. Unlike normally, I was able to rest an index finger next to both her labia and gently pull them apart. Without saying a word, I collected as much saliva as I could and leaned down between her legs.
I ran my tongue from the bottom to the top of her pussy, stopping at the top to let all the saliva and moisture run from my mouth straight onto Claire’s wanting pussy. Her labia almost separated with the addition of my tongue inside her.
With the saliva running down her pussy, I came back up and found her clitoris, which was standing proud at the top of her cunt. I flicked it a dozen or so times before letting the next load of saliva run down her pussy once again, this time followed by me driving my tongue inside her now aching pussy.
Claire’s reaction was to rock her head back and moan louder than she should have. She also brought her hands up off my head and started back massaging her tits and rubbing her nipples once more.
I continued my efforts to get her as wet as possible by sharing what moisture I could with her and encouraging her to get as wet as possible by exploring all parts of her pussy.
My cock throbbed against the end of its own length. If I had another two inches, I would have filled them, such was my arousal.
I lifted my right hand up and offered it to Claire, giving her my middle and ring fingers to suck. She eagerly accepted, which was a relief for me as it also quieted her moaning. Bringing them back down, I rubbed both fingers down her pussy and underneath, then back up, and slid them both inside her cunt without any difficulty. She immediately bucked up against me and started to thrust, trying desperately to fuck my fingers.
Meanwhile, I had started jerking myself off using my left hand, as my tongue continued flicking her clit and my fingers worked the front wall of her cunt.
Suddenly, a rustling could be heard from the near-end bedroom.
“Ohh fuck! That’s Malcolm!” Claire’s panic-stricken tone was unmissable and alarming on its own. Without a moment to lose, I stood up, withdrawing my fingers and tongue, and hurriedly kicked my clothes under the lounge before walking as quickly as I could to the only room that had no one in it—the spare bedroom directly across from the lounge chair. Thankfully the door wasn’t closed, so I didn’t have to make noise opening it. I slipped inside the room and pulled the door back to where it was.
I stood in an empty, dark room, naked as the day I was born with a raging hard-on. Outside I could hear the door open to the bedroom and what I could only assume was the Prof coming out into the living room.
“What’s going on, Claire?” His tone was deep and dark. I could safely peer out the partly open door as long as I didn’t move it or make any noise. In the moonlight, I could clearly make out a naked Claire as she pulled a cushion from the lounge to cover herself.
“Oh honey.” She stated. “I didn’t want you to catch me!”
“Oh fuck. I’m totally fucked now!” I thought to myself. She was going to admit everything.
Claire continued. “I’ve been thinking about you and playing with myself. Now I’m all wet. I thought you were asleep.”
I was taken aback at the dexterity of her thinking.
Claire glanced in the direction of the room I was holed up in and then continued. “Can I suck YOUR cock, please!” The way she projected the YOUR was no doubt aimed at me; I was sure of it.
“Honey.” Mr. Blackwell continued, “This is really strange.”
“I know,” she replied, “but I really want to suck your cock and fuck right now.”
To add credence to her words, Claire reached out for her husband and pulled him towards her. She grabbed his hand and lowered it beneath the cushion over her lap. “See how wet I am.” She rubbed his fingers across her sopping pussy, wet with all my saliva. Without waiting for a reply, she reached for his pajama pants and tugged the elastic waistband down, dropping his pants to the ground.
Through no surprise to me, Malcolm took a step towards his wife, and she eagerly took his limp cock in her mouth. To help him along, she massaged his balls until there was definite growth in his manliness.
He was hung. Long. Not thick, but longer than me. I was much thicker and veiny than him, but that was of little concern. Just as he seemed to be getting into the surprise of having his cock sucked in the middle of the night, a gentle tap on my shoulder made me shudder. I did all I could to not jump out of my skin. A finger came up and rested across my lips in a ‘be quiet’ sign. A voice whispered into my ear, “Shh, it’s Selina.”
The Blackwell’s daughter was for some reason in the spare room all this time. She was supposed to be asleep in the far, far bedroom.
She whispered again as I spun around to watch Claire continue to suck her husband’s long cock. “I’ve known about your plan since the first napkin. My mother did a shit job of hiding it. I found it and have been watching you both ever since.
Claire lifted her husband’s cock shaft up and now kissed his balls while jerking his cock with both hands.
Selina continued, “My mother doesn’t know that I know, but you have me to thank for getting Dad away from the party tonight.”
Malcolm was starting to moan as his gorgeous wife continued jerking his cock and sucking his balls.
From behind me, I felt a body press up against me. Selina was still wearing the same bikini top she had during the New Year’s party.
She grabbed my waist and gently pulled me to one side. “I want to watch as well. You got me wet earlier; licking that pussy like that was amazing.”
“Selina…” I started to protest. But what was I going to do? Take the high moral ground? That ship had sailed.
“This is a bit weird, don’t you think?” I tried to get something reasonable and sensible out of my mouth.
The eighteen-year-old replied, “I’m not having sex with my family; I was watching you, and besides, who’s going to find out?”
With that, she pressed herself against me once more. I could feel her bikini top press into my back. I was aware that I was still totally naked, and my erection was showing no signs of disappearing.
In the adjacent room. Claire was now back to sucking her husband’s cock, trying in vain to take all of it in her mouth. She had no chance, but it did look amazing. He had reached full erection now.
As Claire stood, she looked once more in my direction, totally unaware that her daughter was watching with me. Claire took two strides towards me, then took her husband’s hand and led him around behind her.
The professor squatted slightly, lining his cock up with her pussy. He gathered what would have been mainly my saliva from her pussy and rubbed it up and down a couple of times to get himself wet before thrusting deep inside Claire as she stood not more than nine feet from us.
Instantly, his wife’s tits started to bounce as he forced himself deep inside her pussy. Claire called out in pleasure as his cock made its first trip to her depths. Quickly gaining momentum, the couple started to fuck in unison; he would withdraw before thrusting in onto Claire’s ass, causing a loud slap. Her tits would react by jolting forward and then back up against each other. Her calls became more and more pronounced.
From behind me, I felt a hand wrap around my naked waist, then reach down and grasp my own shaft.
Selina whispered, “Oh, you’re so thick! I can see why she wanted to suck it!” She started slowly jerking my cock for me as she stood behind me. Selina tried to wrap one of her hands around my shaft but wasn’t able to. She did this by bringing her other hand around and jerking me using both hands at once.
Out in the living room, the pace hadn’t slowed. Claire’s moans had started to combine into one continuous call of pleasure, while her husband continued plowing his wife’s pussy. Claire brought one hand around and grasped her breasts, one at a time, as the slapping of thighs against ass continued.
In our incidental viewing room. Selina took her right hand off my engorged cock and reached up behind herself. She stood back briefly, only for me to realize that she’d undone her bikini top and let it fall to the ground. She then pressed herself up against me again, this time topless. I reacted instinctively by reaching around both of us and pressing her up against me. I could feel her nipples pressing into my back.
Reaching behind us, I grasped the teenager’s ass and pulled her onto me. They were so firm and taut. Her nipples were rock hard. Lowering my hand, I found that she didn’t have anything on beneath her waist. She really was touching herself earlier as I ate her mother’s pussy.
Out in the living room. Claire eased up and asked her husband to lie on the floor facing away from my direction. From there, she knelt over his long cock, aimed it at her pussy, and impaled herself on it. She slowly rode his cock as she sat over him, facing the doorway that kept my presence a secret from the man who could end my career before it started. Claire’s tits once again bounced as she gathered momentum. She seemed to be putting on a show for me in this room, unaware that her daughter was jerking my cock for me.
Selina, who couldn’t see now that her parents had moved on to the ground, shuffled around in front of me so that she could watch as well as me. She kept her hand on my throbbing shaft. I moved my hands up over her tight-ass cheeks and over her bare tits. As I gently squeezed her rock-hard nipples, I felt her back up against me, spread her legs by taking a wider stance, and then lower my cock down between her ass cheeks. Selina forced my steely shaft between her labia and tried to back up on my girth.
Unable to gain access to her cunt, she spun around and quickly dropped to her knees and took me in her mouth. She rocked back and forth, tongue sliding as far down my length as possible.
I reacted by standing her up and putting her back in the position she had just tried to impale herself on me from. I followed suit by dropping to my knees and dropping as much saliva in my second pussy of the night. This one was trimmed but bald. I gave her a quick six or seven laps, similar to what I had done for her mother earlier, except that when I came up, I made a detour for Selina’s asshole. I let my tongue linger on her rosebud, letting as much moisture roll over it as I could, before standing back behind her tight ass.
Back in the living room. Claire was now squatting over her husband, forcefully sitting down on his cock as far as she could before thrusting forwards, towards my position. She held her tits together as she looked in the direction of the ajar door. She seemed to love having an audience. The hesitant-looking glamour pressed her tits together and licked her own nipples as she continued to ride the lecturer’s cock.
Inside the bedroom, Selina pushed back against my cock once more, in a more determined effort to get my steely girth inside her. I grasped her ass and helped thrust inside her. When I finally did get inside her warm, tight pussy, it was all we had not to cry out ourselves. I withdrew as far as I could, then leaned on her pussy and started my exploration of her depths. Once about six inches inside her, I felt myself hit a wall. It must have been her cervix. Selina covered her own mouth with her hand as she gasped at the girth driving inside her.
Each time I hit her cervix, I would pause to let us enjoy the feeling of a full pussy. As her parents’ fucking grew in animation, so did the intensity in our room. I wrapped one hand around her waist and sat the other between her tits as I pulled myself deeper and deeper inside this teen’s pussy.
Selina looked up and turned her head towards me. “Don’t cum in me. Actually, just don’t cum. You have to fuck my mother yet.”
“Um, I’m not sure that’s going to happen now.” I continued to thrust inside this pussy from behind.
“Oh. Oh!” Just as we started talking about it, Malcolm let out another couple of groans before thrusting so deep inside his wife that she was lifted off the ground. Claire rode his cock until he had finished blowing his load inside his wife. He lay still for a moment while Claire settled back on his diminishing shaft.
“I think I need a shower, honey.” Mr. Blackwell hadn’t fallen asleep as I’d suspected he might. He scrambled out from under his wife before walking naked into the bathroom in the main bedroom. The shower started a moment later.
Claire clambered to her feet and made her way back to the lounge, where this had all started some time earlier.
Pausing our fucking, Selina stepped away from me and my cock, which had become accustomed to her lovely pussy.
“Time to finish what you started, cowboy! I’ll be here watching.” She gave my cock another two full-length jerks before making her way to the back of the room so as to not be seen when I went out the door.
Shaking my head, I slowly exited the room and made my way over to Claire, who sat on the lounge.
“Did you like my quick thinking?” she inquired.
I was in no mood for chat. I wanted her and wanted her now. I held my finger to my mouth in a signal to keep quiet. I pushed her backwards on the lounge so that she was lying semi-flat. Without asking, without discussion, I lined up my cock with her oozing pussy and thrust my thick girth straight inside her, all the way to the base. While her husband had a longer dick, I had a much thicker one. Claire took a moment to adjust to this size difference.
I withdrew and then thrust in again, to the base. Each subsequent time, I made her tits bounce as I rammed my length as far as I could down this married mother’s cunt.
Lifting her legs up, I could feel my shaft rubbing up against the front wall of Claire’s pussy. A feeling I’d not had previously. As I continued, I felt a second wind come over me, so I started thrusting at a more intense rate. The slap of our bodies could surely be heard from the shower, but I was beyond caring. I arched my back forwards in an attempt to access deeper inside this pussy. Harder and faster I went. Surely I’d run out of gas soon.
As I thought I was going to climax, I could see Claire’s demeanor change. She went from appreciating her second dick in one night to having a look more demonic, more possessed. She started to moan, similar to when I’d had my tongue inside her. This encouraged me to go harder. Her moans turned to almost a cry as she began to caterwaul and shriek in pleasure as our extramarital fucking continued.
Knowing her daughter was watching only spurred me on. Claire tried to push up against me, trying to get me deeper in her. When this didn’t work, she squeezed her tits together so forcefully I thought she was going to damage her skin.
Then I felt it.
Her pussy started to tighten. Squeeze my cock. Then Claire went quiet; besides the pained whimpers of her climax, the only noise was the shower in the bedroom.
Claire’s eyes widened, and her mouth gasped. All of a sudden, the squeezing on my shaft increased tenfold. I pulled my venous member from her canal only to be met with a stream of squirt shooting from her pussy. I quickly reached down and thrust two fingers inside her pussy and massaged the front wall of her box while I brushed her clit as quickly as I could with my left hand. The squirting didn’t stop; it only gained momentum as Claire rocked her head back and thrust her cunt towards me. The stream traced a line up my chest, hitting me on the shoulder.
The sight of this, combined with knowing we were being watched, was too much for me. I reached for my cock just as I started to climax. Like I said earlier, I had been very hydrated for a long time, and I had also been doing countless Kegel exercises as part of an annoying habit while I drive. Consequently, the first blast of cum that shot from me hit Claire directly in the chin. The second was more powerful, hitting the wall above her head; the third and fourth landed on her bare chest. Just as our respective climaxes started to subside, the shower stopped, and the door could be heard opening. I drained the rest of the cum onto Claire’s stomach, then stood up and pressed my cock into her mouth. She took it and tried to get all of me down her throat. I had to get out, so I gathered what I could of my clothes and left the gorgeous mother and wife in a mess of her own squirt and her husband’s students’ cum. I leaned down and kissed her gently. “Thank you.”
On the walk home, my Instagram Messenger dinged. A private message. “That was the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had. Cheers, S”
