It seemed to Marion that Chuck was more than usually grumpy at the thought of their winter vacation. “Oh, come on, Chuck--it’s a week in the Dominican. Why so glum?” Chuck continued to paw through some shirts and underwear and stuffed some clothing in his suitcase.
“Airport security, cramped planes, customs, strange languages, and people we don’t know...why would anyone want to put themselves through that. I’d be happy if you just went by yourself. All I do is read in the room and get blitzed at the bar. You’re the one that likes to lie out on the beach or have dinner at the buffet with people.”
“Well thanks a lot. I work awfully hard so that we can enjoy a week away by ourselves, and you don’t even want to go. The taxi will be here in twenty minutes...you decide what you want to do.”
Twenty minutes later the cab arrived. Chuck was still not saying much, and Marion was not even sure if she wanted him along. Every year, this same argument took place, and every year they seemed to enjoy their ‘winter retreat’ less and less. Nevertheless, a week without snow was a week without snow.
The flight was not as bad as Chuck had predicted, and the resort was even better than expected. There had been a scary moment at the airport checkin when Chuck realized he hadn’t picked up his passport, but before he could say, “Jesus , Marion....” she had pulled both passports out of her purse and passed them across the counter.
Even the bright sunshine and coloured umbrellas had done nothing to take the edge off Chuck’s mood, and so while he ‘rested up’ in the room, Marion pulled on a bathing suit and wrap, and headed to the beach.
One of the reasons that Marion liked this particular resort was the lack of kids. She had reached a time in life when she was not as comfortable sitting on a beach where people would compare her middle-aged body with the lithe and taut size two’s in their string bikinis, and while it wasn’t a “lifestyle” resort, she enjoyed some of the flirtation and double entendres that punctuated dinner or the nightclub.
Two hours later, she went back to the room, showered and dressed for dinner. Chuck had gotten up when she came in, and had been pleasant enough, even complimenting her on the dark blue pleated skirt and light blue knit sleeveless sweater that highlighted her skin and shoulders. As they walked to the dining room, Marion said, “See...it’s not so bad.”
“I suppose not, but a bit of eye-candy wouldn’t hurt the place. Why do you pick a place where we’re the youngest ones here.”
“We are not the youngest ones here; I just don’t like having a bunch of kids around. We’re grown ups, at a grownup resort, and I’d like to enjoy the company of people our own age.” Marion realized that she had raised her voice a bit, and as she looked around to see if she had been overheard, made eye contact with two men waiting at the maitre’d’s stand. The taller one smiled at Marion and winked; Marion blushed and glanced away.
After they had been seated and ordered their meal, Marion glanced around again. Strangely, even though there were about sixty people in the dining room, the two fellows she had seen earlier were the only ones that didn’t seem to have a partner. “Maybe they’re gay,” Marion thought.
“What’s the matter with you?” Chuck whispered.
“Why?” Marion replied.
“Jesus, look down.”
Marion’s nipples were clearly visible under her sweater. “I must have gotten cold,” Marion said, although her thoughts were not so straightforward. She was clearly thinking about the two guys at the other table, especially the taller one, and had been unaware that her body was beginning to betray her. “When I dressed tonight, I put on something a little sexier. We’re on vacation, Chuck...what’s the matter with people thinking that I’m excited.” She knew she was blushing a bit, but the light was low, and she was tired of Chuck’s constant nagging. While they ate, Chuck said little, had a double scotch for dessert, and was quick to sign off on the meal chit.
“I’m going to the bar,” he announced, pushing his chair back and not waiting for Marion.
Marion glanced back to the table where “her guys” had been sitting, but they too had slipped away. Frustrated, she went back to the room, pulled on a pair of silk pyjamas, slipped into her sandals and went to walk the beach in the moonlight.
Tiki torches lit the path between the cabanas, and as she made her way to the ocean frontage, occasionally heard the soft moans or delighted squeals of love-making coming from rooms.
As she went by one of the beachside (that is, expensive) cabanas, Marion heard a woman’s moans. Unable to resist, she glanced between the curtains on the window. The tall fellow with the beard that she had seen in the restaurant was lying on the bed, a middle aged woman astride his body, her plump ass grinding against his chest as his hands cupped her breasts. Marion looked at his cock -- she couldn’t help herself -- and liked what she saw. He was about six inches, circumsized, nice-looking balls, and judging from the look on his partner’s face, seemed like he knew what he was doing. Marion had never seen people making love before, and felt herself getting wet as the woman reached behind her to grab her partner’s cock as he moved his hand down placing his thumb against her clit. Marion watched as the woman covered the guy’s hand with hers, and press his his thumb into her crotch. She echoed the anonymous woman’s gasp, and suddenly realized that she had slipped her own hand inside her pyjama bottoms and had slid a finger between her own lower lips.
Marion was fascinated as she watch the woman hunch back towards the fellow’s cock, clearly inserting it, rocking forward and back. Marion masturbated furiously as she watched them fucking, and in some cogent part of her mind wished that Chuck were as imaginative. He was as predictable as the suppertime news, and she knew that after two minutes of kissing he’d finger her until she was a bit damp, and then fuck for about fifteen strokes before he finished, oblivious to her own pleasure. As she thought about the number of times that she had finished herself with her fingers after Chuck had rolled over and gone to sleep, she pleasured herself looking at the couple in the window. Both of them really seemed to be enjoying themselves, and it was clear that the woman was cumming repeatedly.
Marion moaned through her own climax, licked her own fingers as a way of making it real for herself, and walked to the beach.
By the time Marion got back to the room, Chuck was in bed. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and slipped in bed beside her husband. Wanting nothing more than some human comfort she pressed herself against Chuck, but he just moved farther away. Frustrated yet again, Marion hugged her pillow and slept fitfully until she heard Chuck get up in the morning and go to the bathroom. Going to the window, she pulled back the curtains and saw her “two guys” headed fo the beach. Making a quick decision, she pulled on the new bathing suit that she had gotten just before their trip -- blue, with a white stripe, a mesh back that left a lot of skin but provided enough support for her breasts, and a higher cut around the thighs and hips than she usually wore. She shouted to Chuck that she was heading to the beach, and quickly made her way along the path that looked so different by day.
Scanning the sand, she saw “the guys” about forty feet away just putting down an umbrella and towel. She went into the water until it was about shoulder deep and began a decent crawl parallel to the beach, turning every hundred yards or so. After six “lengths” she was feeling a bit tired and started to edge in towards the shore.
“Nice workout!” a voice said. Startled, Marion saw her bearded acquaintance swimming alongside her.
“Yes, but enough is enough before breakfast! I’m heading in,” Marion answered.
“May I join you?”
“Won’t your friend mind?” Marion asked.
“John? He’s gone back to the cabin. We’ve got the place for a week, but he was out most of the night, if you know what I mean! He needs his sleep.”
“What about you?” Marion asked, knowing full well what her “friend” had been doing.
“I was ‘entertaining’ a friend. Why do you ask?” he replied, looking directly at Marion.
“Just curious -- my evening wasn’t nearly so much fun. And yes, I’ll join you for a few minutes. My husband is back at the room and probably anxious to head down for breakfast. By the way, what should I call you?”
Offering his hand, he said, “Hi, I’m Paul. And just a point of observation, your husband didn’t seem very happy to be here...I overheard you last night.”
Taking his hand, she said, “That’s alright...I was a little frustrated with him yesterday. You probably heard. I’m Marion. What’s with you and John, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“He and I have traveled together for years. We like many of the same things, and are able to stay out of each other’s way when we need to. My wife likes him, and is glad, I think, to have me out of her hair for a bit. While John was married, we all used to travel together, but after he was divorced, it was awkward with the three of us, so he and I get away for a couple of weeks each year.”
Marion was working hard to figure Paul for a married man, and was surprised how little that mattered to her. As he led her to his umbrella and invited her to sit on the beach, she checked out his ass, which was fine.
Paul, as Marion learned, was an architect employed by the government to maintain codes of design and accessibility; Marion talked about her own life as a sales associate in a medical supply firm. Inevitably, the conversation moved to their respective spouses. Paul freely admitted that his time away was his own, and that he often found companionship on these vacations (as did John), which were simply pleasurable encounters to bring an hour or two of sensual fun and release. Marion confided that she had never cheated on Chuck, but was not happy the way things were. And then they were were quiet for a moment.
During that moment, Marion realized that the rush of wetness between her legs had nothing to do with her swim; Paul felt the beginnings of an erection.
“I need to get back to the room,” Marion said.
“As do I,” said Paul. “Perhaps I’ll see you at lunch?”
“I hope so!” Marion replied, with more enthusiasm than she had intended, and looked at Paul.
Paul reached over, and Marion, thinking that he was going to turn her chin towards him for a kiss leaned forward. Paul did, indeed, kiss her, but his hand went to her breast, touching the side and moving his thumb over her nipple. Marion gasped, and thrust her tongue into his mouth, feeling the wet heat of his tongue touching hers.
“I’ll be going for a walk and a swim after supper. Will you be free for a couple of hours?” Marion asked as they pulled apart.
“Absolutely,” said Paul. “Our cabin is the third one from the beach, and is a little more private than the lodge rooms. Meet me there.”
“It’s only private when the windows and curtains are closed!” Marion laughed to herself.
By the time Marion got back to the room, her level of arousal was a real distraction. Chuck was up and dressed, and ready to go to breakfast. “You go ahead, dear. I need to have a shower to rinse off the salt.”
“Is that a new bathing suit? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
“I bought it before we left; I figured it was good for both swimming and lying out. Do you like it?”
“It’s kind-of revealing, don’t you think?”
“I like it because it is a bit risque. What’s wrong with showing off a bit.”
“You’re a bit old for that kind of thing.”
Marion stormed into the shower, peeling off her suit and slamming the door at about the same time as she heard Chuck leave the room. As the shower was warming up, she checked out the full length mirror on the door. Her size 16 body was no longer young, that was for sure. A pregnancy and a job that was mostly at a desk had taken their toll, but save some stretch marks, her skin was unblemished. Her breasts were a 38 D with pink nipples the size of pencil erasers set on dollar-sized aureola. Her ass was bigger than she would have liked but she was comfortable with it. Looking at her pubic mound she thought it was her best feature. Her auburn bush was not too lush, and she kept her labia trimmed. She could become wet with simply a thought and knew that her pussy was still tight. She loved fingering herself to orgasm and could cum repeatedly with little effort.
Stepping into the shower, Marion felt the water bouncing off her breasts, and as she let the water run over her body, started to calm down. By the time she was rinsing the conditioner from her hair, she knew without a doubt that she would see Paul that night.
Marion decided to skip breakfast (or skip Chuck), dressed and went to the lobby for coffee and a pastry. Sitting in an overstuffed chair, she glanced listlessly at USA Today, looked through the resort guide and decided that this would be a good day for a massage and spa treatment. As she walked over to the concierge desk to book an appointment, Paul and John came into the lobby.
“How’s your day going?” Paul asked.
“Just going to book a massage. What about you? Is this your room-mate?”
“Marion - John; John - Marion. John, I do believe Marion may be responsible for your having to spend time in the bar tonight.”
John smiled at Marion -- “Don’t worry about me; I think I can make some plans of my own. I’ll be sure to knock before I come in. If your muscles are tight, I have heard that Paul gives an excellent massage. That is, if he’s not too tired from getting beaten up today at the casino.”
Marion suddenly realized that they all knew what was going to happen that night, but instead of being embarrassed, she was excited. On impulse, she leaned up and kissed Paul on the cheek. “Have a fun day you two. See you after supper.”
Marion went back to her room, taking some brochures with her to plan a day trip or two. Chuck was already there. “You didn’t come down for breakfast. Are you okay?”
“I just felt like coffee and a danish. I went to the lobby and booked a massage. What are you going to do today?”
“I’m headed for the casino, I think. Do you want to come?”
Marion smiled to herself as she pictured her husband and her intended lover sitting beside each other at a blackjack table. “I might...but after a day at the spa, I may just veg out in the room. Good luck.” And with that, they went their separate ways for the day.
The spa was a good choice for Marion. A facial, a manicure, a pedicure and a full body massage followed by a sauna and icy dip left her feeling stimulated and alive. In her room, she spent a bit of time with a razor on her labia, some scented oil, and dressed, all the while considering that the next person that would see her lingerie would be Paul. She picked out a powder blue bra and panty, a silk turquoise blouse and the pleated skirt from the previous night and dressed for dinner.
Waiting for Chuck, she allowed herself to imagine the rest of the evening. After supper, she would tell Chuck she was going for a walk. A minute later, she would be at Paul’s cabin. And then what? She would kiss Paul at the door. Would they even make it to the bedroom or stay in the living room? Would they undress each other or strip for the other’s enjoyment? Did Paul enjoy oral sex? She loved having a man go down on her, but Chuck hadn’t done that in years. She was used to the taste of her own juices, and often licked her fingers or vibrator after masturbating. Given what she had seen the night before, Paul would have a light on, and she loved to see a man’s cock fully aroused or her own breasts as her lover would suck on them. What position would Paul enjoy? Would he make her cum before entering her or would he cum in her mouth or on her body? As her imagine spun on, she barely heard Chuck coming in, and was just able to focus her eyes (but not get the flush from her cheeks) before he stormed into the bedroom.
“What a fucking awful day...down almost a thousand dollars, and I think most of it went to two gay guys that were sitting at the other end of the table. I couldn’t get a break if it jumped up and kicked me in the nuts. I am so fucked up. What are you looking at?”
Marion realized that she was staring at Chuck. She had known him to get angry and frustrated after a bad day at the casino, but it wasn’t that bad a day compared to some he had had. It seemed like nothing on this vacation would be to his liking, and she was looking forward to supper even less if this was the mood he was in. “I’m sorry, dear. There’s always tomorrow. Maybe supper will cheer you up.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah...there’s always tomorrow. Give me ten minutes...I need to wash this losing stretch off.”
As he went into the shower, Marion went out to the balcony to look out at the beach, the cabins and the rest of the resort as the sun got lower in the sky. The staff were lighting the torches along the paths and straightening up the chaises on the beach. She looked towards Paul and John’s cabin and thought she saw some movement through the back bedroom window. She wondered if Paul was thinking about her as she was dressing. Would she see him at supper?
Chuck interrupted her daydream. “Are you ready? I’m famished.” As she turned towards the living room, she thought she saw Paul and John leaving the cabin.
The restaurant was very busy, and Marion was glad she had made reservations that morning. As they were being seated, she saw Paul and John at the bar sipping what looked to be martinis and smiled at them. Paul whispered something to John, and raised his glass in a toast towards Marion. Blushing, Marion turned back to Chuck, who was scanning the menu. “Something look good, dear?”
“Shrimp cocktail and steak. Scotch.”
“The steak sounds good; I’ll start with a salad. Maybe a Pina Colada.”
As they were about to order, the maitre d’ came by the table with a vintage Rioja Reserva. “This is a gift from the gentlemen at the bar. They said that they’d been in the casino with them this afternoon and you had been good luck for them.” As he finished speaking, he gestured to the bar. Chuck glanced up to see Paul and John raising their glasses with a nod. Scowling, he growled to Marion, “those are the two fags that cleaned up at blackjack today. At least they’ve got good taste in wine!”
Marion could not keep the smile from her face. “I’ll thank them, dear. You order, I’ll be back in a moment.” As she walked over to the bar, she was aware that there was a bit more swing in her hips than she needed.
“That was very kind of you to send the wine over. Chuck had said there were two gay guys that did rather well at his blackjack table.” She raised her eyebrows with a smile.