Chapter 3: Our First Threesome, and Bell’s Drunk

Three weeks later

I knew Steve was disappointed that we didn’t find another woman to fuck, but I was getting more and more accustomed to the idea, and I even found myself looking at women at the Mall, measuring them as I slowly rubbed my pussy over my soaked thong.

I continued wearing small and revealing outfits and quite often without panties, and I fantasized about men and woman watching my pussy as i robe the escalator.

Then it happened, Steve and I took a weekend trip down to the Bahamas.

“Can I get another?” I lifted my empty glass toward the gentleman behind the bar. Poor guy, I thought to myself. He must have been in his 60s, and his white dress shirt was soaked in sweat.

The cabana was shaded, but that didn’t help much as the temperature was nearing triple digits, and it wasn’t even noon yet

The breeze from the water made things bearable, but even in my bikini top and light skirt, I was uncomfortably warm. This guy, in his shirt and khakis, the resort’s employee uniform, wasn’t dressed for the weather.

“Pina colada?” he asked, confirming my drink.

“Please.”

“Has your stay been pleasant so far?” he asked, making chit chat while mixing my drink.

“It’s been nice,” I plastered a smile. He looked like he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I wasn’t in the mood. The resort was beautiful, and it felt wonderful to be out of the dreariness of Jersey in October, even if it was hotter than I preferred.

The bartender set my glass back down on the bar, a large wedge of pineapple and a cherry garnished the rim of the glass. I popped the cherry into my mouth, then took a sip from the straw. Fuck, it was good. The bartender didn’t go light on the rum, but it wasn’t overpowering either.

Steve was in the pool, flirting with some young girl in a very small bikini, that barely contained her huge tits and large areoles.

Around the corner of the bar where I sat was a couple who appeared to be in their late 50s, maybe 60s. He had a full, neat head of salt and pepper hair, while she had thick, wavy brown hair that fell below her shoulders. They were both fit and slim, and talked to each other with smiles and laughter, filling the conversation. Wedding rings were on their fingers. They might have been together for 25 or 30 years, but they looked like they were just dating. I hope Steve and I will end up like these guys. What an adoring couple.

I took a long drink from my glass, too much for one gulp, I realized, too late, as drips of pina colada dribbled from the corners of my mouth and fell to my chest. I quickly dabbed myself with a paper napkin, stood up a little light-headed from the Rum, and made my way to the pool. I figured an hour or so under the sun to trade in my pale Jersey complexion for a Bahamas tan.

I found a chaise lounge near a corner of the pool. Whether it was in school, at a bar, or at a pool, I’ve always preferred corners. They allow me a good view of my surroundings. I liked to joke it was a vestige from my reptilian brain, a survival instinct. Really, it was just because I’m a fairly observant person and I enjoy people watching.

The pool was a good change of scenery. It was crowded.

I slipped my sandals under the chaise lounge, set down my purse, and got the sunblock, then I lotioned myself up: legs, arms, neck, and chest - I wanted a tan, not to turn into a lobster.

The resort was luxurious, and there were beautiful people everywhere I looked. To my right, separated by an unclaimed lounger, was a blonde woman lying on her chest. Her golden-brown skin glistening in the sun, with the strap of her top undone and her tiny white swimsuit bottom covered little, leaving few tan lines. She could have been asleep for all I could tell.

A couple of chairs to my left were three women, all of whom were about my age, mid to late 20s, two brunettes with a blonde in between them, chatting about nothing in particular. The blonde and the brunette furthest away from me both wore tiny, string bikinis, while the brunette closest to me, having a larger chest, required a little more fabric, but exhibited ample cleavage all the same.

There were a couple of young people in the pool, not far from me. The women sat on the men’s shoulders and playfully fought one another, trying to send each other into the pool. It was mildly amusing at first, but as they continued to play, they were rather oblivious to their shouting and the water they were splashing on those nearby, including me a few times.

The “sleeping” tanning blonde also got splashed on more than one occasion, which was enough to make her lift her head and irritably look at the pool. She sat up, slipping her top into place in the process, and adjusted herself to lie on her back.

After some time, she also needed some protection from the Sun ... and maybe from Steve ... well ... us.

I watched her apply sunscreen to her skin. She started from the ground and worked her way up.

She began with her feet, then her calves, shins, and thighs. The bottom of her bikini strained to keep her covered, and a pretty cameltoe showed through the fabric. She moved to her slim tummy, before rubbing the lotion into her chest, I was momentarily hypnotized as I watched the white liquid disappear into her breasts. I’d never been with another woman before, but like I said, lately I’d been more and more turned on by women and I’d come to terms that we were going to fuck a woman together, and, for some reason, I felt that this would be the one.

“Steve ... Let’s talk to her, she’s hot,” I said, looking at my husband.

“You mean too...”

“Yes stupid, to fuck. Shall we?!

“Sure, I mean if you’re ok with it.”

I didn’t respond. I waved for the girl to come over; she was a lot younger, maybe 18 or 19, just like Bell.

She got up from her seat and made her way over to us.

By now, Steve had given up his quest to conquer the big-chested girl in the pool, and we had gotten a ringside table.

Her hair was a bright yellow blonde, natural and pretty, falling past her shoulders. The white bikini top covered a pair of round B-cup breasts. She had a flat stomach and shapely legs.

“Hi, she said as she sat down between us.

“Hi, I’m Joselyn, or just Joz, and this is my husband Steve. Glad you could join us.”

“No problem at all, I’m glad to, those annoying people in the pool ... Sorry, I’m Jessie, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“The same to you.”

“How long are you guys here for?”

“We’re just here through the weekend,” I told her. “This place is amazing. We went scuba diving yesterday, and it was incredible.”

“We went snorkling, not scuba diving,” Steve corrected.

“Whatever,” I brushed him off. “The point is, I got to pet a shark.” We both laughed. “Steve wants to go parasailing this afternoon.”

“Is that where you’re in a parachute being towed by a boat?” I’d seen videos of it, but decided being someone’s personal kite wasn’t my cup of tea.

“Exactly! I’m not an adrenaline junkie, but, my husband is. He loves to get into strange and weird situations, where he can’t predict the outcome...” I said, and Steve knew exactly what I meant.

I felt my pussy moistening up, watching her nipples poke through her bikini top.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Originally from California, but I live in Dallas now, moved there a year ago, for a man, didn’t last, but I stayed ... Love the city so much. Hate the Cowboys, though.”

“Fuck ‘dem Cowboys!” Steve said, maybe a little too loudly, in a mocking imitation of Jimmy Johnson’s famous quote.

“We’re Jets fans,” Steve said, with his perverted smile on his face, and I bet he was getting a hard-on. “But, we also love the 49ers, right, babe?

“What do you do?” Jill turned to me.

“I’m a veterinarian’s assistant,” I lied.

“And you, Steve?”

“I’m a personal trainer. I get rich, old ladies to do jumping jacks,” Steve joked.

“No, he’s really great at what he does.”

“I’m sure he is,” she said, and I realized that she just ogled Steve right in front of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I know Steve is a very attractive man, with broad shoulders, thick neck, muscled arms, a chiseled chest, and abs. Some of my friends said that he looked as though he stepped out of the pages of a Men’s Health.

Jill certainly could have been a magazine cover girl herself.

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not basking in the sun in the Bahamas?”

“I’m a reporter.”

“Oh? Like on TV?”

“No, newspapers. Not many people read them anymore, but I’m hanging on.”

“What’s your ... do you call it a beat?”

“That’s the word,” she said. “I split my time doing the crime beat. Crimes and courts. I also do enterprise features, telling people’s stories. Often, they’re crime victims. I tell their stories, how they recover from their experiences, move on, continue living after the unthinkable.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like it’s hard.”

“It can be. But it’s also extremely fulfilling. When someone entrusts you to tell their story and you’re able to do it justice, it’s a pretty good feeling.”

“Who do you write for?”

“The Dallas Chronicle.”

After some pleasant conversation, I noticed that Jill’s drink was almost finished. I winked at Steve, who immediately got the hint, as a waiter was close to us.

“Can I get you ladies anything?”

“I want to buy you guys a drink,” Jill told Steve, gesturing to us. “Bring them whatever they like.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said politely.

“No, but I want to.”

I paused for a moment before turning to the waiter. “Long Island Iced Tea, please.”

“Sir?” he asked Steve.

“Just a cold beer for me.”

“Anything for you, Ma’am?” he asked Jill.

“Sure, a Pina Colada, Pro favor,” Jill said in pretend Spanish and handed the man a handful of bills to cover the drinks and leave enough for a nice tip.

“Sorry to state the obvious, but aren’t you a little too young to go from Denver to the Bahamas all by yourself, and in a romantic resort like this? I said.

“I turned 19 last month, and the trip was paid for...” she hesitated. “by ... my ... Sugardaddy ... He ... had to stay in Denver because his ahhhh wife had an accident ... and ... and they ... lost their baby...”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know...”

“Joz ... that’s ok, he told me to go anyway, and he was gonna cover the whole bill as well.”

After another half hour of pleasant conversation, Jill stood up.

“I had a couple of drinks last night, and I’m already starting to feel this one a bit, so I think I’m going to head off and find a little air conditioning. It was really nice talking to you two. Maybe we’ll see each other again. Enjoy parasailing.”

Steve and I looked at each other again, thinking this was strike two.

We talked a bit about it, and I know Steve was a little disappointed, I knew he wanted to fuck Jill so bad. I, on the other hand, was feeling a bit uneasy at it all of a sudden. At the dark bar in Jersey, the sexual scene was staged, I was buzzed, horny, a long build up preceded the actual bar scene, but here I was practically sober, and I defiantly looked at the situation from a different prospective.

How will I really feel about watching Steve fuck another woman? Watching him eat her pussy? Listen to their wet skin slapping together and watching him fill her pussy with his seed...

After another ten minutes or so, we went up to the room to get changed for the paragliding.

I undressed and just stood in the mirror. A thousand thoughts went through my head, Steve licking and fucking another woman. I felt ugly. Unwanted. I missed the attention I got in the bar.

I could hear the shower, so I thought what better way to feel better then get hammered by a hard cock. I watched him through the foggy glass, his hands braced against the wall as he leaned into the hot water and let it run over his face and down his body. His cock hang down, semi-hard, bouncing as he lathered his hair and started washing his arms and chest. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. I saw his cock shoot his cu all over some strangers cheat.

I watched his soapy hands slide down his belly and start stroking his cock and balls. Soon, he was as hard as stone.

One of my hands rested on my breast, and I gently circled my nipples, feeling them grow stiff beneath my fingertips, and my other hand inside my bikini bottom, against my gaping lips. My dirty husband stroked his great cock. Was he thinking about Jill, Bell, or the possibility of a threesome?

I gripped, twisted, and pulled my nipples as hard as I could until they slipped from my fingers.

Steve’s attention remained fully on stroking his cock as I stepped in behind the glass and stood behind him.

I pressed my hot body against his and grinned my tits into his back. My hands slid between us to cup and squeeze his ass before gliding around from each side to reach his cock. Dropping a kiss or two along his spine, I murmur, “Let me help you with this.”

He released his cock and my hands close around him. He moaned and shook.

I made sure that he knew my lust for him hadn’t diminished a bit, not even with the possibility of him fucking Jill, and that he satisfied all my needs and desires. That was a lie, but I wanted him to feel good about his fantasy, and I still was going to do the same with another man.

“MMMmmm, I can’t get enough of you.”

He pulled my hands off and spun me around, pushing me back against the wall. I gasped, then smiled and moaned. Grinning, I pushed him in return and when he was flat against the tiles with a smirk on his face, I told him,

“Be a nasty little cunt, Steve...” I said, and grabbed his hard cock. “Mmmm, I want this monster so bad, Steve.”

Steve grabbed my hips and spun me around, pulling my back against him, so I grinned and slid my wet bottom all over and around his cock. Moaning, he seized me by the hips and lifted me up till I felt his cock press between my thigh. He pressed it through them, and some of the tip peeked out in front; I could see it in the mirror over the sinks opposite us.

“Mmm, looks like I have my own cock now,” I said and started stroking his cock as we both watched the movement of my hand in the mirror. With each short stroke, I pulled upward to grind his shaft against my pussy.

“Put your cock in me,” I said. As soon as his cock found the spot, it opened me and he easily slid inside of my warm, wet pussy.

My pussy was pulsating, and when I felt him enter my cunt, I came hard.

Steve started his usual slow and easy rhythm.

“Harder, Steve,” I said impatiently and Steve began to pick up the pace.

“That’s it, pound me, Steve!” I wanted it hard and rough for a change. His pelvis was now slapping against my ass.

“God ... You feel so good...”

“You’re driving me wild.”

“Grab my hair and pull my head back and kiss my neck.” I continued to instruct with a delightful voice. The shower had been transformed into a steamy tropical rain forest, and we were having sex like wild animals.

“Ouch, take it easy, you’re being rough with me,” I whined, but I was only joking with him.

“Sorry, I’m not used to this.” At some things, Steve was naive to my pretending banter.

“I’m just playing, silly.” I giggled while I rocked back and forth to keep his strokes coming.

“Well, you wanted me to be a cock tease, here I am.”

“You are a cock tease,” Steve said rather sheepishly, but I loved him no matter how stupid or corny he could sound.

Soon, I could feel Steve’s cock throb and hot cum spray deep inside of me.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” he groaned. I could feel his seed filling me.

Afterward, we just strode there, content. His powerful hard-on began to soften and slowly he slid out of my opened cunt.

I felt physically helpless against my husband, but mentally in control.

The resort contained several places to eat, ranging from bars and grills, to sushi and seafood to a 5-star gourmet restaurant, called Che Paradise. Being our last night, Steve had made reservations for us that night

I brought a nice dress with me for the trip. A black silk, strapless gown with a plunging neckline that showed off my ample D-Cup cleavage with high slit that went to my mid-thigh.

Ahhh, minor change in details, six months ago, I had breast augmentation, just so you know.

I wore a single-diamond necklace, which further drew eyes to my breasts. For work, I dressed modestly. Professional, but nothing ever close to revealing...

Tonight was different, just like the bar nights in Jersey.

I gave my hair some curl and allowed it to cascade down around my face. I applied dark red cherry lipstick to amplify my modest lips, and mascara always made my forest-green eyes pop that much more.

When I left my room, I thought I looked nice. When I stepped off the elevator, I knew I looked great. Men couldn’t take their eyes off me, even as their wives or girlfriends noticed them noticing me. It was a bit comical, watching their reactions.

Steve was like the Alpha cock amongst his hen. Beaming as he walked next to me.

A few women even smiled at me and looked me up and down. I always feel a flutter when I get another woman’s attention. This night was giving me the ego-boost I so desperately needed, despite the great shower-sex earlier.

A host, dressed in a full tuxedo, greeted us.

“Good evening, welcome to Che Paradise.”

“Good evening sir. We have a reservation for two.”

“Your room number, sir?”

“402.”

“Ahh, here you are. Please follow me.”

The host led us through the dining room. Once again, I felt eyes on me as I entered, but the initial boost to my ego was starting to give way to my default setting of self-doubt again...

The host showed us to my table and pulled out my chair for me. He handed me and then Steve the cocktail menu. Good boy.

“Mario will be your server. He will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.”

I considered ordering a cocktail, but I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I needed food before I had any more to drink. When Mario came and introduced himself, handing us a dinner menu, I told him I’d stick to water until dinner. I ordered a filet mignon, and Steve ordered a Pepper steak with French fries.

“How about that?” I said out loud.

“How about what?”

“A sugardaddy...”

“Yeah, fuck, I thought that ws just a word, not reality.”

“Does that make he a prostitute?”

“Naeh, I don’t think so, I think it’s a mutual agreement, they stay together, they fuck, he’s rich man, and she enjoys the benefits.”

“Man you know a lot about this, Steve.”

“Naeh, I only guessing.”

“But ... you know what this mean don’t you?”

“That she’s not a virging and she loves cock?”

“Yes to both, and guess what?”

“What...”

“Look, Steve, there she is. I saw her as we walked in,” I said and pointed towards the bar.

Two minutes later, Mario set down a glass of Cava in front of her and gestured toward us.

I smiled and gave her a slight wave with my fingers. Steve pushed an unoccupied chair out from the table with his foot and gestured for her to join us.

Jill picked up her glass and told Mario something.

She took her pina colada and walked up to our table and sat down at the table.

Jill looked like she’d stepped off the red carpet of a Hollywood premiere. She wore a scarlet, off-the-shoulder, floral corset fitted dress with a slit that went up to her hip ... That may be the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Pina Coladas are my favorite,” I said.

“Same here, thank you once again, you are too kind.”

“You’re very welcome,” Steve said. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jill looked a little embarrassed at the compliment.

“You really do,” I agreed. “That dress is amazing on you.”

“Thank you, but you two...” She didn’t even know how to finish the sentence.

Steve wore all black pants, sport coat, dress shirt with its top two buttons undone, showing off a bit of his cleavage, though his was muscle.

“He’s not wrong,” I said, taking a deep breath. This was it, this was the night. Steve was ogling her like a starved dog staring at his first meal in days, and I once again felt more at ease with our nightly adventure.

We finished our dinner, and I drank more than usual, probably to prepare myself for what was about to happen.

After another hour, I took Jill’s hand and led her over to the wall of windows. Outside, the sun was setting over the water. The orange ball dipped below the horizon, surrounded by swirls of pinks and purples, and yellows in the sky.

We stood there hand in hand, watching the lovely scene.

“It’s a beautiful view...” I heard Steve’s voice from behind us. “ ... and the sunset is nice too.”

Jill and I looked back at him together and smiled. Yeah, we were definitely feeling good. We then turned to face one another. I set my glass down on a nearby coffee table, placed my arms on her shoulders, and clasped my hand on her neck.

My face was mere inches from hers. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever been so close to another woman before. It was a foreign feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

“Jill...” I whispered. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable: Have you ever been kissed by a woman before?”

“No.”

“May I be the first?”

She took a breath. “Yes.”

The only thing I could compare my first kiss from a woman to was my first kiss from a boy.

His name was Tommy McDonnell, and we were an “item” for about 15 minutes in seventh grade. We were at a friend’s house one Friday night and found ourselves tucked away in a corner with no one around. There, Tommy planted an awkward, dry, bumbling kiss on my mouth.

Tommy McDonnell was no Jill, that was for sure. She moved her lips to mine slowly, ensuring this was all right. Her lips were delectably soft and moist and felt wonderful against my own. My hands found their way to her hips, and I squeezed her while she held on to me. Subtly, her mouth parted slightly, and I felt her wet and slippery tongue gently caress my own.

While the quality of the kiss was light years ahead of Tommy’s, the two experiences felt the same. They were equally exhilarating. At 13 years old, I had no idea how woefully inept Tommy’s kiss had been. I had nothing to compare it to. What I knew was that when he kissed me, my heart raced and my breath caught in my chest. A boy was kissing me! It was scary and wonderful, and I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I wanted it to continue.

I didn’t know kissing a woman could feel so romantic and sensual and so right. Her lips were larger than mine, but smaller than any man I’d been with, but I discovered they fit perfectly with mine, like they were puzzle pieces finally coming together.

Like that kiss with Tommy, this was scary and delightful, and I had no idea what I was doing but ... Goddamn, I wanted to continue doing it.

Jill and I tenderly broke off. I opened my eyes just in time to see her open hers, those magnificent cerulean blue eyes.

“Thank you for that,” I whispered. It felt odd as I said it ... Fuck ... who says thank you after being kissed? And by a six- or seven years younger girl ... But quickly, I knew I was thanking her not just for a kiss. I thanked her for giving me, us, an experience we would remember and cherish forever.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“I liked it very much.”

“I asked Steve to go turn on the hot tub. We’d very much like it if you joined us.”

Jill opened her mouth to answer, but I quickly cut her off.

“Don’t you dare use ‘I don’t have a bathing suit’ as an excuse.”

“You don’t mind if your husband sees me?”

“Not at all,” I said, my tone dripping sensuality.

Jill nodded, and we walked back to our room, holding hands.

I turned her around so that her back was toward me.”Let me help you unzip?”

I raised my hands to the top of her dress, which ended just below her shoulder blades. I slowly lowered the zipper down and saw the top of her bottom covered by a matching scarlet thong.

I turned Jill back to face me as her dress fell to the floor. She stood before me wearing nothing but her tiny panties and heels. Her breasts were beautifully tanned, as were her semi-erect nipples.

She moved behind me and reciprocated, helping me with my dress.

Her hands helped lower my dress, then she took my hand as I stepped out of it, and left it puddled around my feet. I didn’t know how I’d feel, standing there nearly naked with another woman.

She just looked at me, wearing nothing but black panties and a matching bra. I felt a surge of excitement and an animalistic urge, but there was something else there, too. A romantic longing.

I felt my heart beating faster in my chest and a warmth pooling in my core.

“Come on,” I said as I grabbed her hand and we walked to the huge en-suite. Steam rose from the bubbling hot tub. Light danced on the wall from a dozen flickering candles placed throughout the room, the last of which Steve was lighting as Jill and I entered.

I don’t know if Steve expected both of us to walk in topless. When he saw us, a look of delight flashed in his eyes while his mouth formed an “o” in surprise.

“You both are so beautiful.” He said. “Can I get either of you anything? A glass of wine? Would you like music?”

“If you want music, whatever you like is fine. I don’t need anything to drink.” I squeezed Jill’s hand. “Whatever happens this evening, I want to remember it.”

I took Jill’s face into my hands and kissed her again. I wanted to taste her again. I wanted to feel her tongue against mine. It felt even better this time. My hesitation and tentativeness were gone.

I felt that Jill’s physical beauty was matched by a beautiful and generous soul. I was as attracted to her as I’d ever been attracted to any man.

We broke from the kiss long enough to slip off our shoes and then climb the three steps to the rim of the hot tub. Jill stepped into the water first, “Fuck that’s hot!” she yelped, but continued to descend into the tub. I followed right behind. It was hot, but it also felt wonderful. All my cares and concerns melted away, including my self-consciousness. I wasn’t tan like Jill, though the sun had certainly pinkened me considerably, my breasts were still milky white, though a size bigger. But in the candles’ golden, flickering light, I saw myself the way she saw me: Sexy and Beautiful.

Holding both my hands in hers, I sat myself down and gently pulled Jill down to straddle me.

I held her face in my hands as I returned my mouth to hers, alternating between probing with my tongue and playfully nibbling her lips. Her hands remained under the surface of the water, running themselves over my backside; at first on top of, and then, quickly underneath my panties.

Then Jill’s left hand raised itself from the water and grabbed hold of my hair, giving it a slight pull, forcing my mouth away from hers and raising my chin toward the ceiling. Almost instantly, I felt a new sensation: Jill’s mouth on my breast. I’ve found most of the men I’ve been with attack my tits, trying to get as much of it into their mouth as possible. Jill, by contrast, was patient, even delicate. She planted a few soft kisses to the top of my breast, then slowly moved her tongue around the outside, continuing to wind around to the underside, then back up the inside edge, back to the top where she began. Jill repeated the circle, though moving slightly toward the nipple as she did so. She did it again, only this time her tongue traveled around my areola. Jill’s long journey circumnavigating my breast had only one more lap to do, and it felt like I was sitting on pins and needles in anticipation. In reality, she was still sitting on my lap, and since my arousal had commanded my hips to involuntarily rock themselves into her.

“Ohhhh,” I panted.

Mercifully, Jill’s tongue made its final voyage, running itself around and then over and back on my nipple, long since standing erect, before taking it into her warm mouth, drawing in her cheeks and tugging at it with determined suction.

“Oh, Jesus, that feels good,” I heard myself say.

My hands held on to the edge of the hot tub, pulling myself further into Jill, who moved to the other breast and began a repetition of her concentric circles on her way to my nipple.

That’s when I remembered Steve. To this point, he’d remained a bystander. Sitting behind me, slightly to our right, less than six feet away, on the edge of the clawfoot tub. He loosened his necktie and stood barefoot but, otherwise, remained fully clothed as he enjoyed the show before him.

Jill once again reached my eagerly awaiting nipple and played with it in her mouth, my breathing became quicker, my moans of pleasure a little more pronounced, all the while I was locked eyes with her husbands, seeing and feeling his extreme excitement. Finally, his fantasy would come true: a threesome with another girl. It only took six months, but here we were...