The next several days were filled with typical vacation events – sight-seeing and shopping, frolicking on the beach in the sun, lazy naps under umbrellas by the pool and shows or night-club activities in the evenings. For the most part, we were intimate only with our respective partners although our close quarters still led to plenty of voyeuristic opportunities.
We had long since dispensed with any bashfulness, changing in front of one another and abandoning the restriction of any sleepwear completely. The bathroom door was rarely, if ever, closed and we all felt free to use whatever facilities were needed despite who might be making use of the other amenities of the room. It was likewise considered an acceptable social norm to sit and stare while someone else in the room was going about their business, appreciating their charms regardless of what state of undress they might be in.
It also became fairly common to wake in the night to the sounds of our guests going at it and drift back into fitful slumber to the sounds of their rhythmic movements or their murmurings of endearments to each other. Similarly, we did nothing to restrain our passion for one another in front of our younger friends when so inspired.
One exception to this focus on our own partners came one morning when Lisa woke feeling frisky and chose to start our day with a quick romp. After some sleepy-headed foreplay, she ended up on top, straddling my hips as I strained my pole up into her clenching sex. Our climaxes had certainly grown more vocal since the week had begun and I gave full voice to my pleasure while pumping a morning load up into her churning vagina.
She collapsed on top of me and I clutched her tight to my chest as we slowly came down from our orgasmic high. We were sharing our mutual satisfaction with each other, whispering in each other’s ear, when I felt the foot of the bed shift with the weight of someone joining us. Moments later, I sensed Terri kissing and licking her way up our legs and thighs to the juncture of our conjoined genitals. Both Lisa and I shifted our legs apart to accommodate her actions, giving her free access to Lisa’s bottom and my balls.
Soon enough I could feel the gentle caress of Terri’s breath on my private parts, followed by delicate licks and nibbles as she bathed us in lascivious attention. When it suited Lisa, she raised up a bit from my dwindling erection, making way for Terri to taste our combined creams oozing languidly between us.
The little pixie dove forward to enjoy the fresh results of our copulation. From her comments, sighs and moans, I could tell that this was particularly pleasurable for Lisa as Terri noisily sucked her engorged nether lips and used her long tongue to greedily search out any errant drips around the base of my shaft and balls. I suspect she even trailed her tongue up across Lisa’s sensitive anus, something Lisa generally has expressed revulsion at but seemed to be warming to as she received the experience this week.
By the time we were completely disengaged, I think that Lisa had experienced another mild orgasm that came over her almost as an echo from our intercourse, more of a shuddering tremor as she settled down against me. For my part, my sensitive but limp cock didn’t fully deflate as I drifted off into a sleepy, erotic haze. By the time I came fully awake with Lisa snoozing comfortably still on my chest, Terri was back in her own bed cuddled with her lightly snoring husband.
As the last night of our vacation approached, however, I knew we wanted to have one more joint episode to fulfill some of the fantasies each of us had expressed interest in earlier in the week. To this end, I had a couple private conversations with Lisa about what we both wanted and were comfortable with. If nothing else, this week of hedonistic abandon had cemented open sexual communication as part of our renewed and invigorated intimate relationship.
I knew by now that we didn’t really need to consult with our young friends about our plans, they were always expressly willing to accept our lead and participate in whatever activities we chose, at whatever level of involvement we preferred. So the morning of the last day, I informed them that I’d get dinner reservations for the evening and that they should plan on joining us for the night. As expected, they were more than willing to oblige us.
After yet another sumptuous dinner, when the waiter asked us if we were interested in dessert, I informed Ron that he shouldn’t consider it since he would be having a delicious and lengthy dessert back in the room. As you might expect, this stopped conversation, confused the poor waiter and left my wife (the implied “dessert”) blushing. Despite my outrageous introduction to the evening’s theme, everyone bought into the idea immediately and we were all suddenly in a hurry to get the bill paid and get back to our shared room.
When we arrived, we quickly set Ron’s (and coincidentally Lisa’s) fantasy in motion by stripping him and securing him spread eagle to one of the beds using various hosiery Lisa and I had worked out earlier. We had also purchased a couple of sturdy blindfolds in a gift shop during the day to ensure that we would have at least one that fit comfortably and would keep our victim suitable in the dark.
Ron was already sporting a healthy erection without hardly even being touched. He was the very picture of the sacrificial victim – vulnerable, submissive, and exposed in his desire to be taken advantage of.
I was having the time of my life watching Terri, who was almost giddy with delight as we prepared her dear husband for this long-sought experience. She pranced around giggling, trying to help but doing more to get in the way than actually providing any assistance. That she is entirely oblivious to this fact makes it all the more amusing.
Once Ron is secured, I sit down in an armchair to watch the proceedings, content to bide my time for my part in the games. As Ron waits and stews in his own anticipation, Lisa takes charge, saying to Terri, “Undress me. Prepare me to use your husband.”
All too readily, Terri complies with an eagerness and expectant glow radiating from her every action. Delicately, sensuously she undresses my wife, carefully folding each item she removes and placing it deliberately on the desk. She reverently kisses and caresses each exposed part of her mistress – neck, shoulders, back – and even bows to kiss her toes as she removes her shoes and socks.
Likewise, as she removes Lisa’s bra, she almost worshipfully caresses the bounteous curves and pays homage to the sensitive nipples. This is not a rude invasion of Lisa’s personal space as you might think when fondling someone’s privates but is a servant-like caring for the needs of her superior. Similarly, when Terri removes her mistress’ panties, she lightly caresses and kisses her bottom, which Lisa graciously deigns to let her do. I find it achingly erotic as I watch from my front-row seat.
And I can see the subtle signs of Lisa’s arousal. Sure, there are the things you would expect – erect nipples, dilated eyes and shallow panting breaths – but there are also signs I have come to recognize from my intimate moments with my lover – like the way the muscles in her abdomen tighten, the cute flush at the tips of her ears and the almost feline stiffness in her spine that betray intensely erotic feelings coursing through her.
As Terri completes her task, divesting her mistress of her final piece of clothing, Lisa draws her up with a touch on her arm and envelopes her in a soft, feminine kiss directly on the lips. Terri moans softly into the tenderness of her mouth. Only days ago, I would never have thought I’d ever witness my clearly heterosexual wife in such an exhibition of Sapphic eroticism but here it is before my very eyes. And clearly initiated and enjoyed by my loving bride. Oh, life is so good.
They hold each other for long moments – exploring, sharing, connecting – before Lisa gently breaks the kiss and they pause, nose to nose, and stare into each other’s smoldering eyes. Without a word, it is obvious the time has come and Lisa turns her passion from the woman to the woman’s husband.
During this entire exchange, Ron has been lying helplessly on the bed next to them, straining to hear every hush of cloth as it passes over a newly exposed patch of heated flesh, the soft, subtle sound of each adoring kiss, the wet and sensual meeting of the lover’s lips. Whatever level of expectancy he has achieved while being restrained on the bed has been raised considerably by the sounds and smells his heightened senses report to him in the sight-deprived world behind the blindfold.
As Lisa turns to enjoy her lover’s lover, Terri immediately feels extraneous and awkward standing alone in the middle of the room. Glancing about for direction, she catches my eye and I merely nod, inviting her to my lap. As she comes to me, I nod again, glancing up and down her sprite-like form. In perfect understanding of my unspoken direction, she pauses and begins removing her own clothes.
Lisa approaches Ron on the bed, sensuously running her hands familiarly over his body as she chooses. I find it breathtakingly beautiful to watch the love of my life enjoy herself with his fully male and fully defenseless physique. She takes her sweet time twining her fingers in his chest hair, tracing an index finger languidly over his lips, lightly running a fingernail the length of his erect manhood which elicits a sharp intake of breath conveying surprise, pleasure and frustration all at the same time.
By this time, Terri is completely naked and has settled on my lap, keenly watching the activities on the bed but also unashamedly available for my fondling pleasure. As we watch my spouse become more and more intimate with hers, I idly toy with her most personal parts. I caress her and manipulate, occasionally pinching or flicking as I chose. She denies me nothing, only shifting to offer me greater or easier access or sometimes moaning in pleasure, pain or surprise as I play with her.
On the bed, Lisa has begun teasing Ron by straddling his head; her heated pussy only inches from his face, letting her scent engulf him and deepen his longing to taste her. Just when he thinks she will give him his heart’s desire, she shifts away, only to turn around and lower her pendulous breasts to his open and panting mouth. His disappointment and confusion gives way to delight when he realizes what is before him and he eagerly begins to lick and suck in adoration of the offering.
Meanwhile, my fingers idly toy with Terri’s engorged pussy lips, alternately tugging at them and caressing the slippery crease between. Once, without taking my eyes off the proceedings on the bed, I accurately line up my fingers and abruptly flick her turgid clitoris, eliciting a yelp and a flinch to close her legs, which she quickly corrects, spreading her legs wider in invitation to further exploitation.
I respond by inserting my finger into the molten wetness of her lubricating canal. She groans in pleasure and grinds her hips lewdly against the invading digit. I withdraw and bring the finger up to our faces as we sit cheek to cheek. I inhale the sexy scent of her desire before painting her lips with the wetness. She furtively licks at my finger while allowing me to spread the glistening moisture over her parted lips.
On the bed, my wife is busy smothering her subject in bounteous tit-flesh, a fate he welcomes with lapping devotion. When it seems almost inevitable that she will drown him, she relents, sits back upright and again positions her overheated sex tantalizingly close to his awaiting mouth. We all watch, transfixed, as she gently lowers to just barely in reach of his tongue. Sensing the motion of her body, the all-consuming scent and feeling the heat from her pussy, he strains upward to lick delicately for a taste.
“Oooh, that feels wonderful, Ron,” she coos, the first actual words spoken in such a long time.
My hand returns to Terri’s unguarded crotch and finds its way even further back where I press a different finger against her nether opening. I am encouraged by the longing expressed in the deep groan that rumbles in her small chest. I wiggle my dry finger against her crinkled entrance, worming it partway inside to manipulate and tickle her locked backdoor. My hand moves up again to our faces, this time carrying the muskier, earthy smell of her ass crack. I offer my finger to her and she eagerly sucks on it, providing plenty of saliva for lubrication.
Ron continues to strain and struggle to provide as much contact and stimulation as he can to my wife. Pleasure infuses her face and I can see her enjoyment in the arch of her eyebrow and the flair of her nostrils. Her hips rock gently back and forth in rhythm to her delight.
As my fingers return to their occupation exploring Terri’s lower openings, I began to whisper in her ear. “What a naughty girl you are. You like watching your husband please another woman. You like seeing him lick a pussy. A pussy you tasted just the other night. A pussy that you would have gladly licked yourself if you had been given the chance.”
“Mmm,” she whines in humiliation and desire, “yes, sir. Yes, I would have.”
“If you could, would you trade places with him?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, I would.”
“And right now you’re letting your husband lick her. In fact, you encouraged him to lick her, tied him down so he had no choice but to service her. And you helped prepare her so that she was aroused and horny and wet for him. You want her to sit on his face and grind her cunt all over his mouth and nose.”
“Uhhh,” she groaned again, my words heating her up even more so that her hips rocked against my fingers which were now lodged up to the second knuckle in her vagina and rectum.
“And what would you say about a girl who sexes up another woman so that she can sit on her lover’s face until she cums?”
“She would be a whore; a dirty, fucking, slut whore.”
“Who would be a dirty, fucking, slut whore?”
“I am!” she hissed. “I’m a dirty, fucking, slut whore!”
“And what happens to dirty, fucking, slut whores?”
“They get spanked, sir! They get their dirty, fucking, little asses spanked so fucking hard!”
“Oh, please, sir! Please spank the shit out of my dirty fucking little ass!”
“Oh, please, please. I beg you. Spank me really, really hard. I’ll do anything. Anything you want but please spank my dirty, fucking, slut, whore ass!”
“As you wish, bitch. Get over my knee.”
Terri scrambles up, my fingers unceremoniously popping free of her tight little holes and throws herself across my lap. I glance at my wife, who is still enjoying Ron’s outstretched tongue, her pussy lips and thighs glistening with pleasure and delight. She is staring at me with incredulity, watching me play our little submissive along the lines of the nymph’s own fantasy (and mine) and I see joy on her face at my pleasure, at the attainment of my dream, that she is so happy I am realizing. I’m guessing that over the last half-hour or so my face has held a similar expression of excitement and wonder, witnessing the fulfillment of her fantasy.
Without further delay, I bring my hand down hard against the tight little ass so temptingly offered across my knees. The smack resounds in the quiet confines of the room and Terri jumps, emitting a tiny yelp and gasp. She quickly recovers, however, and settles further on my lap, arching her back and thrusting her muscular bottom up in invitation to receive the next.
By chance, my eyes happen to catch the corresponding little jump in Ron’s cock, the conversation and proceedings having not escaped the sensitive hearing of the little slut’s husband. His delight is transmitted through his pounding heartbeat to his pulsing flagpole. Although I can’t see his face, I’m sure if I could, it would have the same expression of delight for his lover, that she was finally getting the desire of her heart in the realization of her long-held, spanking fantasy.
Now, Lisa’s desire crests and she sits down, pushing her gushing sex squarely into Ron’s prone and vulnerable face and she starts an obscene bump and grind around his nose, mouth, cheeks and chin. Boundless joy infuses my bride’s beautiful features making her even more gorgeous and desirable to me, if that is possible.
I’ve started a steady rhythm of spanking Terri’s cute little bottom, alternating between cheeks. A cute pink flush appears almost immediately on the extraordinarily white skin above her tan line. Tan lines, plural, actually, as Terri has graced us this week by wearing a variety of bikini suits with varying cuts, even agreeing on one occasion to putting on a daringly small suit that Lisa pushed her into purchasing at a local shop. She turned more than a few heads that day.
I amuse myself by spanking all around her behind, watching the firm flesh ripple under the stronger strokes and ensuring I warm the entire surface. Terri starts squirming around a bit, not so much to escape the pain, I think, but in her excitement over the sensations, much like she couldn’t hold still or contain her exhilaration while tying down Ron. I can feel her deliberately pressing her pelvis against my thigh, attempting to hump my leg.
Once I feel she is sufficiently warmed, I change tempos, using increasingly hard swats at a slower pace to let both of us appreciate the effect more. Terri begins to offer little grunts in echo to each spank, but the sound is not so much one of pain as it is a sound of erotic satisfaction, part of the repertoire of sounds that none of us have hidden from each other in the openly erotic context of our shared hotel room.
After every third or fourth hard swat, I pause and caress, massaging the heat into her muscular rear-end, simultaneously taking liberties to finger the wetness of her flowing cunt and probe her asshole with my thumb. I also switch to striking the same location multiple times, intensifying the sensations. My efforts do not appear to be wasted.
Terri’s grunts become more impassioned and her squirming on my lap more pronounced and almost desperate. I’ve watched this girl pass through the throes of arousal, tension and relief often enough this week to be able to appreciate her rising excitement. Although her movements become more pronounced and erratic, they are clearly not designed to escape or shrink away from the blows but to the contrary, she seems intent on thrusting back even harder against them.
During one of my breaks, as I gleefully manipulate and probe my subservient victim, I remember to glance over at my wife, so enjoying the services of her own subservient victim. On her face I recognize the contorted mask of orgasmic bliss, the blush suffusing down full to the upper slopes of her abundant chest, the muscles of her abdomen rippling with the effort to grind her hips voluptuously across Ron’s face, his head locked in the vice-grip of his dominant’s thighs. I idly wonder how long it has been since he has been granted any oxygen.
I have my own selfish enjoyments to worry about, however, and my attention is quickly drawn back to the undulating ass slowly blushing from pink to red before my entranced eyes. Pausing only momentarily to appreciate the color as well as the undeniably sexy shape, I resume my heavy handed assault on Terri’s ravishing posterior. Her responses to my resounding strikes are becoming more vocal, the inarticulate grunts giving way to “ah,” “ouch” and “mmm.” Even the occasional “yesss” slips in with an extra-long “sss.” I hope that this spanking is everything Terri has dreamed it to be; it certainly is meeting my long hoped for standards.
A couple cycles of spanking followed by soothing massage later, I step the intensity up another notch as my target continues to give every sign of enjoying the experience. I have so little experience with real-life erotic spanking that I worry a bit about whether I am being too harsh or too lenient but I’ve got to trust the open lines of communication that have been built over the past few days. I expect Terri to let me know how much is enough. Judging by her actions during the caress and massage part of the cycle where it is obvious her arousal level is continuing to spiral higher, I estimate I am still on the right track.