They’d spent the morning at the spa, the afternoon eating overpriced tapas and splitting bottles of crisp white wine before they enjoyed an elegant 3-course meal in the fancy resort restaurant, and now they were relaxing in the resort’s hot tub, watching the sunset burn into the mountains. The tub itself was absurdly decadent—better suited for a Caligulan orgy than the wholesome brochure families who populated the rest of the resort. They lolled against the smooth, tiled edges, sloshing the perfumed water with lazy kicks, contented and just a little bit wicked, the way they always got on vacation.
She was wearing her most revealing bikini, one that would embarrass her kids every time she wore it at the beach club this past summer, her fake tits busting out of it, remembering all the times it had led to some stranger bending her over in the change room and busting inside her a gift to take home to hubby. She loved putting on a good show almost as much as she loved to fuck and now she stretched in the hot tub, arching her back, letting the thin fabric ride up until the upper curve of her breasts caught the dying light like a beacon. Her husband, sprawled next to her, had a hand on her thigh and the other stirring a plastic cup of gin and tonic, making no effort to disguise his appreciation.
They’d just started to consider whether they had time for a quick, semi-public fuck before heading back to the room when a thin, wiry boy with unfortunate braces and short brown hair appeared. He looked seventeen, maybe eighteen, with the tragic confidence of a kid whose voice had only recently dropped, and he wore swim trunks and a faded NASA t-shirt that was already sticking damply to his chest.
He hovered on the threshold, staring at the bubbling water, then at their faces—first the husband, then the wife, then inevitably at her chest, which she obligingly jutted out a bit more, a practiced move she’d honed over decades of being noticed. He cleared his throat, trying for an adult casualness that was endearing in its transparency.
“Uh, excuse me,” he said. “Is it okay if I, like, join? My parents kicked me out for a bit. They’re, uh… spending some quiet time.” He made air quotes, cheeks ablaze.
The couple exchanged grins, finding this humorous. “Of course!” she said, voice bright and welcoming.
“The more the merrier.” Her husband beckoned him over with exaggerated welcoming.
The boy climbed in, splashing a little, and sat across from them, knees drawn up, eyes anywhere but her cleavage until they couldn’t not be there. She stifled a laugh and made a show of adjusting her swimsuit.
“So,” the husband said, “are you enjoying the resort?”
The boy shrugged, but loosened up when the wife offered him a sip from her cocktail. “We’re here for my dad’s birthday. But they said I talk too much and they wanted to… reconnect.” The way he said it, you could practically hear the quotation marks.
“They always send you to the hot tub when they want to fuck?” she teased gently.
He blushed, but didn’t deny it. “Yeah, pretty much. It’s fine. I like it here. It’s nice.”
The conversation lapsed into the kind of idle, slightly-flirty banter that adults think is going over a young person’s head but rarely does. She asked about his school, his hobbies, and his favorite video games. He asked about their marriage, how long they’d been together. It was all very innocent, except for the way she kept stretching and sighing, or the way her husband let his hand inch closer to her bikini bottom with each passing minute.
After a while, she noticed the boy’s gaze had grown more direct, lingering. She shifted so he could see the bold line of her tan, then caught his eyes and smiled, just a little conspiratorially.
She let her head fall back against her husband’s shoulder, her wet hair dripping onto his chest. He took the cue, wrapping his arms around her and slowly, deliberately, cupping her breasts. She felt a thrill, knowing the boy was watching, his eyes wide and hungry. Her husband’s fingers found the edge of her bikini top and, with a practiced flick, slipped the fabric aside. Her breasts spilled out, nipples hardening in the cool evening air. She heard the boy’s sharp intake of breath, saw his cheeks flush a deeper red.
Her husband massaged her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples, as she stretched her legs out under the water. Her feet found the boy’s lap, rested there lightly. She could feel the heat of him, the stiffness growing beneath her toes. She moved her feet gently, rhythmically, teasing him. Her husband’s hand trailing down her stomach, beneath the water, beneath the waistband of her bikini bottom. She gasped as his fingers found her, already slick and swollen. He circled her clit.
She whimpered, her hips grinding against his hand, her eyes on the boy. He was transfixed, his mouth slightly open, his breath coming in short gasps. She could feel his cock, hard and insistent, against her feet. She was close, so close, her body tensing, her breath hitching. She looked up and back at her husband’s eyes, pleading silently. He nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, and that was all the encouragement she needed. She slid away from him, crossing the hot tub in a single, sinuous movement, water sluicing off her shoulders and breasts. The boy’s eyes widened further as she approached, his breath hitching in his throat.
She straddled him, her knees on either side of his hips, her hands resting on his shoulders. She could feel his cock, hard and eager, pressed against her inner thigh. She looked down at him, her voice a sultry purr. “Have you ever felt a pair of tits before?” she asked, her lips barely inches from his.
The boy shook his head, his breath hot and quick against her skin. She reached up, cupping her breasts, lifting them slightly. “Would you like to?”
He nodded again, more eagerly this time, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. She smiled, that conspiratorial smile again, and took his hands, guiding them to her chest. He tentatively cupped her breasts, his fingers tracing the curves, the hard nipples, with a sense of awe. She moaned softly, encouragingly, as he grew bolder, his touch firmer. She could feel his cock twitching against her, eager and impatient.
With a subtle shift, she reached down and untied her bikini bottoms, letting them float away on the bubbling water. The boy’s breath hitched as she reached between them, her hand slipping beneath the waistband of his trunks. She found his cock, hard and ready, and freed it from its confines. He gasped, his hips jerking slightly as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking gently.
She lifted herself up, positioning him at her entrance. The boy’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent ‘O’ as she slowly lowered herself onto him.
The boy let out a soft moan, his hands clutching at her hips, his eyes never leaving hers. She began to move, a slow, undulating rhythm, her hips rolling like a gentle tide. She leaned down, her breath mingling with his, and kissed him. It was a tender, exploratory kiss, her lips soft and yielding, her tongue gently probing. She could feel his inexperience, his tentative responses, and it only served to inflame her more.
She deepened the kiss, her body rising and falling in a languid rhythm, her breasts pressed against his chest. She could feel her husband’s eyes on them, his gaze a physical caress, and she turned her head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. There was a silent exchange, a wordless conversation passed between them. Thank you for this.
Her breath hitched, becoming more ragged as she quickened her pace, the water sloshing around them in a hurried tempo. The boy’s grip on her hips tightened, his knuckles turning white, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She could feel the tension building in his body, the coiling of his muscles, the desperate need in his eyes.
Her own body responded in kind, a wave of heat crashing through her, every nerve ending alight. She ground against him, her hips circling faster, her breath now coming in urgent pants. She could feel him throbbing inside her, his cock pulsing with his impending release. She leaned down, her teeth gently biting his lower lip, her eyes locked onto his.
With a sudden, sharp intake of breath, he let go, his body convulsing beneath her, his cock jerking as he spilled himself inside her. The feel of him pulsing within her sent her over the edge. She threw her head back, her body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her moans drifted off into the night, mingling with the sound of the bubbling water and the boy’s ragged breaths.
As her tremors subsided, she looked down at the boy, a soft smile playing on her lips. He looked dazed, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glazed over. She leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before lifting herself off him. She turned to her husband, who had been watching the entire scene with a hungry gaze.
She stood, water cascading down her curves, not bothering with her swimsuit. She wrapped herself in a towel that barely covered her and held out a hand to the boy. “You coming?”
He stared, frozen for a second, then took her hand as if in a trance. The husband climbed out, wrapped a towel around his waist, and handed one to the boy, who fumbled with it, suddenly shy again but also grinning in disbelief.
They padded down the hallway, three towel-clad conspirators, past the occasional guest and hotel staff. Their suite was the farthest from the elevator, a sprawling space with a king bed and a wall of windows overlooking the night-lit valley. Once inside, the wife dropped her towel first, kicking it aside, standing naked and unashamed in front of her husband and the boy, who could only stare, mouth open at her fake tits and smoothly waxed pussy.
Her husband kissed her neck and pressed her against the glass, and she let herself melt into the touch, aware of their silent audience, acutely aware of the heat between her thighs, of her own body’s hunger for exhibitionism.
She glanced at the boy, now perched on the armchair, rigid and focused, his towel tented at the crotch, face flushed. Her husband stripped off his trunks. She smiled at the boy as her husband spread her legs, as he slid his hard cock inside her. She moaned, loud enough for anyone in the next suite to hear, and felt a wild, reckless pleasure in being watched like this, in corrupting the boredom and loneliness out of a teenager’s night with something raw and unfiltered.
She wrapped her legs around him, her gaze never leaving the boy’s as they fucked against the cold glass, city lights sparkling below. Her moans filled the room, her breasts heaved with each powerful thrust.
The boy watched, rapt, and when her husband spun her and bent her over, positioning her directly above the boy’s lap. She could see the excitement in the boy’s eyes, his breath coming in short, quick pants. She placed her hands on the boy’s knees, steadying herself as her husband entered her from behind, his grip on her hips tightening. She could feel the pleasure building again, her body tensing. She could feel the boy’s hot breath on her face, his eyes flicking between her bouncing breasts and her husband’s glistening cock. Her husband’s thrusts grew more urgent, his hips slapping against her ass, his hands gripping her waist tightly.
She leaned forward, her breath mingling with the boy’s, and whispered, “You like watching us fuck, don’t you?” The boy nodded, his lips parting slightly, his eyes wide with excitement. She felt her husband’s cock throbbing inside her, his body tensing as he neared his climax. She closed the distance, her lips pressing against his, soft and yielding.
Just as their tongues met, her husband let out a low groan, his body convulsing as he came, his cock pulsing inside her. She moaned into the boy’s mouth, her body shuddering with the shared pleasure. The boy’s hands found her breasts, cupping them till she broke the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps, a satisfied smile curving her lips. She turned to look at her husband, who was pulling out of her, a lazy, sated grin on his face.
Afterwards, she tousled his hair like he was her own kid. “You remind me of my son, he likes watching too.” She said.
“Do I remind you of anyone?” she asked.
“My mom, maybe,” he admitted, eyes flicking to her chest then away. “But not exactly.”
Still naked, she went out on the balcony, “Beautiful night?” she commented as she leaned against the railing, the cool night air kissing her skin, the lights twinkling below like a field of stars. Behind her, she could hear her husband’s low voice, the clink of ice in a glass, the boy’s nervous laughter. She smiled to herself, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot tub they’d just left.
Her husband joined her on the balcony, handing her a glass of wine, as he settled into one of the chairs. She took a sip, her eyes meeting her husband’s over the rim of the glass. He had that look again, the one that said he was proud of her, proud of them, proud of the life they’d built. He swirled his whiskey, his eyes on the boy who was lingering by the door, clearly unsure of what to do next.
She turned to the boy, her voice soft and inviting. “So just how old are you?” she asked. Suspecting she already knew the answer.
“Sixteen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. She nodded, taking another sip of her wine.
“Sixteen. That’s a fun age. Do you have a girlfriend back home?” The boy blushed, shaking his head.
“No, not really.”
Her husband chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Well, you’ve got quite the story to tell your buddies when you see them again.”
The boy ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, they’ll never believe it.”
She laughed, a low, throaty sound. “Well, maybe you just show them.” “Come here,” she said, her voice a sultry command. The boy hesitated for a moment before stepping out onto the balcony, his eyes wide with anticipation.
Her husband pulled out his phone, the screen glowing in the dim light. She posed provocatively, her back arched, her breasts thrust out. Her husband snapped a few pictures, the shutter sound echoing softly in the night air. She reached out, gently guiding his head towards her chest. “Go on,” she whispered, her voice laced with encouragement. The boy’s mouth closed over her nipple, his cheeks hollowing out as he began to suck. Her husband got a couple more pictures, saying he’d send them to the boy before putting his phone away.
“Would you like to fuck me again? You know, one more time before you go back to your parents’ room?”
The boy nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. She took his hand, leading him inside the suite, leaving her husband on the balcony, the ice in his whiskey clinking against the glass as he raised it to his lips with a satisfied smile.
