Georgia Elizabeth sat in the dining room over the remains of her breakfast. Two poached eggs and a slice of dry toast were what she allowed herself this morning. Boring, she thought. However, that is what Georgia had to do to maintain some semblance of control over her figure. She was a tall statuesque brunette with large breasts and a magnificent ass. Anyone referring to her would say she was full-figured.

She called out to Sarah, the cook, for more coffee while thumbing through her agenda. Today, lunch with the women’s garden club.

‘Boring.’

Tuesday, meeting of the women’s cotillion committee.

‘Boring.’

Wednesday, reception for fundraising for the hospital.

‘Boring.

Thursday, supper with Beauregard.

“Super boring.’

Friday, spa day manicure, pedicure, and massage- at least that is there to brighten my week, definitely not boring, she thought, smiling.

She wondered what refinements of eroticism her regular masseuse, Kim, a diminutive Thai woman who took care of her, would bring to the table.

She heard the phone ring, and Sarah came into the room with her coffee and told her the call was for her. “Who is it?” she asked.

“Some man who would not tell me his name and requested to speak to Mr. or Mrs. Kulhane.”

“A salesperson?”

“I don’t think so, Ma’am.”

‘Damn, who would call at this hour of the morning,’ she thought while wrapping her peignoir tightly around herself and sweeping majestically out to the corridor.

“This is Mrs. Kulhane. Who is calling?”

“Mrs. Kulhane, this is Jess Steen of WUGA Radio.”

“Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Steen?”

“Mrs. Kulhane, are you the Georgia Elizabeth Kulhane residing on Finley Street in Athens, Georgia?”

“Yes, I am,” she smiled, “is there a reason for this interrogation?”

“Mrs. Kulhane, I have the honor to announce that you have won a two-week all-expenses-paid vacation to Martinique due to entering the drawing last month at the UGA fundraiser.”

“Oh my God, I have?” she drawled.

“Yes, Mrs. Kulhane, you have.”

“Now you’re not joshing me about this? I can assure you that you’ll be a very sorry young man if you are. Now tell me, will I have to go and sit and listen to a sales pitch for one of their gawd awful timeshares.”

Steen chuckled, “Mrs. Kulhane, Mr. Sutherland, our VP of Public Relations, predicted you would ask that question when he tasked me with calling you. I quote verbatim what he told me to answer, ‘Georgia, this is the straight goods. If even one person asks you to visit a timeshare or buy as much as a single postage stamp, I will allow you to extract whatever punishment you wish to inflict on me’.

“Tell dear Reggie that I will and also thank him for the reassurance.”

“Please drop by the station at your convenience to finalize the details, Mrs. Kulhane. Just ask for me when you come in.”

“I’ll do that, Jess.”

Supper that night was its usual dreary affair as Georgia sat across the table from Beauregard, her husband.

‘Where has that handsome, lithe man I married disappeared to,’ she thought, trying to discover the man she had married beneath the exterior of the man facing her.

Beauregard Kulhane had been the star running back of their high school football team. She had fallen in love with all six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of him. His ripped body, flat abs, and the way he dominated all around him. Alas, that was the past. She thought of the person sitting across from her by various monikers such as The Lump, lard ass, or tubby.

Beauregard still stood at six-foot-two; however, he now weighed just about three-hundred pounds. As a result, when he entered a room, his belly arrived at least five seconds before the rest of his body. On top of that, there was no conceivable way we could have sex. The last time he had asked her, she had responded, “Beauregard, do you think I’m an acrobat? How in the hell do you want me to couple with you?”

Mind you, she realized that she also was not the cute petite cheerleader she once was. Her breasts were now triple Ds rather than C’s, and her ass was much fuller than the delicate tush she once used to wag. However, she still turned men’s heads when she walked down the street. Not bad for a forty-five-year-old broad, she thought, smiling to herself.

Beauregard looked up and asked, “Why are you smiling?”

“Was I smiling?’

“Yes, you were.”

“I just thought that life has some unexpected turns that seem so surprising. For example, do you remember that raffle at the UGA fundraiser you told me was a waste of money to enter?”

“Yes, so what?”

“We won.”

“What did we win?”

“A two-week all-expense-paid vacation in Martinique. When do you want to go? I have to finalize the arrangements tomorrow?”

“You expect me to parade in a bathing suit. Not me for sure. Why don’t you go? It would be hard for me to get away from the office right now in any case.”

“Is that cute young secretary you just hired keeping you busy?”

“How could you say something like that, Georgia?”

“Well, since you hired her, I noticed you have been keeping later office hours.”

“Georgia, stop that. It offends my dignity.”

“Well, Beauregard, I’ve just decided to go to Martinique. I’m bored at home since the kids moved out, and I can use a change of scene.”

A disdainful ‘Whatever’ followed her as she stalked out of the room.

The following morning Georgia headed to the radio station and picked up her travel vouchers and literature on the accommodations at the La Suite Villa.

She perused the literature when she arrived back home. La Suite Villa was located in Les Trois-Îlets, a bare 20-minute drive from the airport. A Jacuzzi in each room. Five-minute stroll to the beach, and each room had an ocean view. ‘Paradis,’ she thought.

She had to get a new bikini for this trip. So the following day she went shopping. Finding a bikini to accommodate her triple Ds was a real pain. She finally found one that fit, but looking in the mirror, she decided that she would have Kim at the massage parlor give her a Brazilian waxing along with whatever games she would choose to play with her on Friday.

The ride from Martinica Aimé Césaire International Airport to the hotel was heavenly. Through the open windows of her taxi, she could smell the fragrance of lilies, bougainvillea, and other scents that she could not identify as the taxi wended its way through palm-lined streets and roads.

The hotel was magnificent, and a friendly bellhop carried her baggage and escorted her to her room.

Opening the patio doors, she stepped out on the veranda and looked at the ocean, which seemed almost at her feet. ‘That’s for me,’ she thought. Then, promptly shedding her clothes, Georgia donned her bikini, a pair of sandals, and a diaphanous wrap to go and explore the beach.

After going through the gauntlet of the hotel staff, who appreciatively ogled her as she went through the lobby, she walked down the road to the beach while taking in the sights and enjoying the warm air which bathed her body. ‘This is nice,’ she thought, ‘not the awful humidity of Athens.’

She was walking parallel to a golf course and could see only a couple of golfers in the distance. Then, coming around a curve in the road, she was confronted by a seemingly limitless expanse of white sand against which the waves were gently lapping.

Her mind was boggled. All this sand and almost no one on the beach. ‘What a difference between Red Neck beach and the crowds of partying college students,’ was what ran through her mind.

Taking off her sandals, she strolled ankle-deep in the water and up the beach, finally getting to a small cove with not a person in sight. She walked up the slope and discovered that she was just under the golf course.

After taking a dip in the water, she returned to the towel she had spread out and lathered her body with sunscreen. She lay down and took her book, and started reading. She finally looked down at her body and realized how pale she was. Throwing caution to the wind, having read that Martinique permitted nude sunbathing, she unfasted the strings that held the top of her bikini and discarded it.

She must have dozed for some time when something woke her. There was no one to either her left or right, but when she looked back up the slope leading to the golf course, she saw two men gazing down at her.

She grabbed her bikini top and covered herself when one of the men spoke up. “Please, dear lady, don’t do that. Objects of such beauty should not be hidden.”

Smiling, she said, “Sir, we have not even been formally introduced.”

“Not a problem,” one of the men said, lopping down the slope towards her. “I’m Chuck Montfort, and this here,” he said as the second man joined him, “is Bobby Jones.”

“Were you two perverts staring at me for long?”

“Ma’am, we were looking for a stray golf ball when we happened to see you. I can’t tell you for sure how long it was as we were mesmerized by the sight of you. May I ask your name?”

“Sure. I’m Georgia,” she said, appreciatively taking in their muscular legs and fit bodies. They both seemed to be in their mid-fifties, and she thought they were both very handsome. They had salt and pepper hair and exuded a youthful vitality that was in sharp contrast to her husband’s total lack thereof.

As she looked at them, she realized the sun was now low on the horizon, and the breeze was fresher than it had been. “I’d better be getting back,” she said. “It’s been nice meeting you, Chuck, and Bobby. Perhaps we will run into each other again.”

Bobby smiled, “Georgia, that would be a great pleasure.”

She gathered her things to leave when Chuck spoke up, “Georgia, may we give you a ride to where you’re going? Our golf cart is just over the crest, and we are done for the day.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir. That would be much appreciated.”

She sat in the cart between the two men as they jolted over the path. She could not help but feel each time a bump caused her leg to come into contact with one of them. She realized that she was getting very turned on by these accidental contacts.

Once they reached the road, Bobby asked her, “Where to, beautiful lady?”

“Can you take me to the La Suite Villa?”

“Easiest thing in the world,” he said with a grin, “That’s where we are staying.”

“How is Mr. Georgia enjoying your trip? I noticed the wedding ring.”

“Mr. Georgia is back home. Beaches are not his thing.”

“Then you are here by your lonesome?”

“Yes.”

“Then, would you do us the honor of joining us for supper?”

“Will your wives be joining us? I noticed the wedding bands myself.”

“They went on an expedition to the other end of the island. So they’ll be back late.”

“So you two wolves in sheep’s clothing have no lascivious designs on my body?”

“Of course we do, after the sight of those magnificent ... breasts, how could we not have. However, we are gentlemen and have learned to restrain ourselves. It’s hard, but we know how to behave,” Bobby said with a chuckle.

“In that case, I would be delighted to accept.”

“So, meet us in the lobby in an hour.”

Georgia’s mind was in a whirl. It had been many years since she had been flirted with as outrageously as she had been by Bobby and Chuck. My god, how long had they watched her naked tits while she dozed? The ‘accidental’ rubbing of their legs against her bare thighs ... was it accidental? She wondered.

She distinctly felt stirrings between her loins that no Athens socialite should be feeling. Yet here she was alone on this Island paradise, about to dine with two handsome strangers. Too bad they were both married. She could see herself having a vacation fling with either or both of them.

At least she would not be having supper alone, which was something she had been dreading. She took a quick shower and pondered what she should wear at supper, finally settling on a short floral skirt and blouse. Should she wear a bra, she wondered? Putting on the blouse sans bra, she examined herself in the mirror. Not bad for an old broad. She would have to be careful not to lean forward, or they could see right down her blouse.

‘Damn, they have already seen them,’ she thought, smiling. Georgia was proud of her breasts even at her age; they betrayed no-sag but stood out proudly. Her large nipples were not too apparent. However, if she got excited, they certainly would be. ‘Now what about underwear?’ she thought while rummaging in her suitcase. Finally, she settled on a thong that struggled to hold her curvy ass and pussy.

A final spritz of perfume, and she was ready to descend to meet Beaux Brummel and Lothario. Both men were seated and sprang to their feet when she appeared at the head of the staircase. Their expression made her smile. They looked like two pups whose owner had just called them for supper. It was almost as if they were drooling at the sight of her.

“Georgia, you look positively ravishing,” Bobby said as he approached her.

“Absolument,” said Chuck.

“Chuck, was that French?”

“Yes, it is. I am from Canada. Do you speak it?”

“Just a few words, vestiges of my French courses in college.”

“Oh, how wonderful! Now I’ll be able to seduce you without this ignorant Texan being any the wiser.”

“Monsieur, behave yourself,” she said, winking at him.

“Come ma ‘beauté,’ take my arm and let me lead you to the dining room.”

“Enchanté, Monsieur,” she said, wrapping her arm around his and was conscious of his warmth against her breast.

“Will you two stop with that French crap,” Bobby retorted.

Georgia grinned, sensing the competition for her favors from the two men. Despite anything overtly sexual, she felt her pussy getting wet. ‘I am truly getting excited,’ she thought. ‘Me who has never strayed beyond the bounds of matrimony except for my Friday sessions with Kim. But those don’t count, I don’t think. They are just a way to escape the boredom and the sexual tension which Beauregard can’t satisfy. Do I dare to do this? No one knows me here. What could it hurt?’

The men asked if she had ever had Martinique cuisine, and when she admitted to knowing nothing about it, they asked her if she would like them to order for her.

While waiting to be served, Georgia could see both men attempting to look down her cleavage. When their attention was on the waiter, she surreptitiously un-fastened two more buttons. Now the sides of her breasts were exposed, and when the men’s attention returned to her, she smiled sweetly at them.

“What would you like to drink with your meal?” Bobby asked. “Maybe a glass of wine.”

“I understand that Martinique cuisine is fairly spicy. How about a real drink? Maybe bourbon would be a better fit,” she answered.

“Truly a woman after my own heart,” he said, ordering three bourbons.

The appetizer was served. “Now, what is this?” Georgia asked.

Chuck explained that these were conch fritters, which consisted of finely chopped conch meat combined with onions and red peppers that were then deep-fried until golden.

Georgia enjoyed the exotic flavor. The conch was followed by grouper fillets seared and seasoned with tomatoes, garlic, and vegetable gravy, accompanied by grits with a sprinkling of cheese. The salad, which was served with the grouper, was a Ceviche-style conch salad consisting of raw conch meat added to tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and cucumbers and heavily sprinkled with lime juice and chilies.

They were into their second round of bourbon by this time, and Georgia was starting to feel tipsy. “Are you boys trying to get me drunk?” she asked.

“Of course not!” objected Bobby.

“Georgia, it’s you who are intoxicating us with your beauty,” said Chuck placing his hand lightly on her inner thigh just above her knee.

Georgia realized that those two could do anything they wished to her, and she would not object as her pussy tingled from the moment he touched her.

All too soon, supper was over. As they rose from the table, Georgia announced that she would return to her room and soak in the Jacuzzi.

Bobby looked at her with a smile and suggested that maybe she would like to join them in their suite, which had a magnificent view and a much larger Jacuzzi.

“Now, what would your wives think of me if I were to do that?”

“Our wives would think you are delectable and want to jump into the Jacuzzi with us,” Bobby said.

“Well, if you promise to behave, I will go back to my room, put on my bikini, and join you.”

“Why bother?” said Chuck. “We’ve already have seen you half-naked, and if you wish, you can keep your panties on. It would cover those parts you would not wish to expose to our lecherous eyes.”

“Hmm ... okay, just promise to behave,” Georgia said while the thought of her exposing herself fully to them made her blush.

They entered the penthouse suite, and Georgia was astounded at the luxury surrounding her. They walked out to the large patio, and Bobby checked the water temperature while Chuck fetched an ice bucket, glasses, and a bottle labeled Black Maple Hill 16-Year-Old Small Batch bourbon.

“I’ve never seen that brand before,” exclaimed Georgia.

“Here, try it. I think you will like it,” said Bobby.

“Oh, that’s smooth,” she exclaimed after taking a sip. “Almost as smooth as you two lechers.”

“Speaking of lechers, shall we try the Jacuzzi?” Said Bobby.

“You guys go in first. I want to make sure you don’t have a shark lurking in its depths.”

Glancing at each other, the men removed their shirts and kicked off their shoes before dropping their trousers.

Georgia gulped. Both the men were commando, and their cocks certainly commanded her attention. ‘My God,’ she thought. ‘Why wasn’t Beauregard built like that? They are just such beautiful men.’

Chuck called out from the tub, “Your turn, Georgia.”

She debated whether she should just walk out and go back to her room. She hesitated a few seconds while the men looked at her with smiling eyes. ‘Damn, I might never have an opportunity again, and who back home will ever know.’

She removed her blouse, exposing her breasts for the second time to their eyes. She then shimmied out of her skirt to the appreciative eyes of both men. Now wearing that tiny thong, which frankly did little to hide her charms, she stepped into the Jacuzzi.

As soon as she was settled in the water, both men moved to sit on each side of her.

Chuck was the first one to make a move. He turned her face towards his and gazed into her eyes.

“Georgia, you have the most amazing green eyes. I want to do something I have wanted to do since setting my eyes on you this afternoon.”

He approached his face to hers and slowly moved his lips towards her. She stared into his slate-gray eyes and felt her heart throb as she slowly parted her lips to receive him. Their tongues twined, and the intensity of the kiss almost overwhelmed her. Panting, she broke the kiss only to realize that Bobby was fondling her breast.

He hefted it in his palm before taking her aroused nipple between his fingers and rolling it till it got even stiffer. He brought his mouth down and licked around her areola before sucking the nipple into his mouth and scraping his teeth over it.

Chuck submerged into the warm water, and she felt his hands hook her thong. He moved her panties down, pulling them off and tossing them aside. She felt his fingers gently caress her slit, which made her gasp.

When he surfaced, he looked at her and said, “Georgia, I think you can see where this is going. Are you ready for what happens next?”