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We stepped off the plane in Jamaica and the company rep was waiting with our car. Because of work and social obligations with the large company staff in Jamaica, Sondra and I had little time to misbehave. Finally, we were finished, and at our host's suggestion, we asked the chauffeur, Samuel, to come up to our room to arrange an island tour the next day (our last full day on the island). Samuel was a good-looking man, older than us, very black, with a trace of gray at his temples, and that wonderful island accent. Sondra and I had been drinking since lunch, and I offered Samuel one, which he accepted. After talking about the different island sights and routes we could take, Samuel asked to use the bathroom. Sondra smiled at me and said, "Did you see the huge lump in Samuel's pants?" I smiled back, "And I guess you plan to investigate further?" Just then, Samuel returned and sat down. We talked a little more, and then I said I was tired and would see Samuel in the morning. Sondra and Samuel talked small talk for a while, as I laid in bed and listened through the partially open door. Finally, I heard Sondra ask, "Do many women come to the island for more than a vacation?" "Like what, Missus?" "You know, like for excitement. Maybe something they couldn't get or do at home." "Well, I'll be very frank, Missus. An awful lot of white women come down here to get laid by the natives." Sondra laughed. "Why, Samuel? Is the myth about size true?" "I can't talk for all, Missus, but for me, it is no myth." By this time, I was out of the bed, peering into the room from behind the door.
"Can I see for myself, Samuel?" Sondra asked.
Samuel stood and dropped his slacks. He wasn't wearing anything under them and a large, black dick hung between his legs.
"You want to touch it, Missus?" Sondra nodded and reached out with both hands. Both Sondra and I watched as Samuel's cock grew and hardened in her hands. Sondra leaned forward and sucked the head into her mouth.
The next day, we caught a short island-hopping flight to our next port-of-call. It was the opposite of our little cottage. This time, we were staying at a very posh, high-rise resort hotel.
After checking out the view from our room, which overlooked the huge pool, Sondra unpacked, stripped and donned only her bikini bottoms and went out onto the balcony. She stretched, letting the sun warm her skin, and I'm sure more than a few people at the pool had an opportunity to observe that she has a magnificent set of tits. I stepped out on to the balcony with her, just as the man from the next suite did. He introduced himself to us and offered us a beer. His name was Brian and when he returned he couldn't take his eyes off Sondra's chest as we talked. After a few minutes, Brian's wife, Janet, joined us on the balcony. She was wearing a conservative one-piece bathing suit and her mouth literally fell open when she saw Sondra. She regained her composure and emphatically informed us that, as far as she knew, it wasn't a topless resort.
Each couple sat at their own table on the balcony, separated only by a low, thin railing, and continued talking. As Brian and Janet watched, Sondra began to apply her suntan lotion. She squeezed it onto her hands and rubbed it on her arms, legs, stomach, and finally on her breasts. She was watching the expressions on the faces of our new neighbors, as she applied it to her bare tits and ran her oily fingers over her nipples until they were hard and sticking straight out. Janet pulled Brian out of his chair and said they had to get ready for lunch. We waved good-bye and Brian smiled and said he hoped he'd see us again, soon; but we didn't see him or Janet again. We think they either left or had their room changed.
Last year, I was recruited by a large international company based in London. The package that they offered me was too good to turn down, and one of the most pleasant perquisites was a working tour of the resorts it owned and managed. My wife, Sondra, was thrilled at the prospect and we lined up her parents to watch the kids for the five week trip.
Sondra and I have been married for fourteen years, and have three kids. We are both 34 and fight the battle against aging, with Sondra winning in spectacular fashion. At 5'4" Sondra carries a hard, firm body with beautiful legs, a tight ass, slim waist and absolutely marvelous, large, high, round breasts on a perfect 108 pound frame. Always the perfect "lady," bordering on "prim and proper," I was looking forward to seeing her in the tiny bikinis and revealing one piece bathing suits she had purchased for our trip. I had especially enjoyed closely examining the results of her major "bikini-wax" treatment that left only a short, narrow "Mohawk" of auburn hair around her pussy.
The first leg of our tour took us to the Caribbean for stops on several islands. Our first accommodation was in a beautiful beach cottage, with all the luxuries one could ask for. My duties were light, consisting of being introduced to the management staff and attending a few business meetings and Sondra spent her free time sunning and shopping.
On the third day, I returned to the cottage to find Sondra putting on quite an erotic show for four college guys, 18 or 19 years old, who were on Spring Break and staying at the cottage next to ours. I had entered the house from the front (which was the second story in the back) and, as I walked out on to the deck, the sight before me froze me in my tracks. To my utter surprise and disbelief, my normally prudish wife was lying on the chaise lounge, sunbathing in the nude. Even more erotic, was the fact that from my high vantage point, I could see four boys avidly staring through the separating fence at my wife's lush charms. What I didn't know, but soon found out, was that Sondra was aware of her audience. I faded back out of obvious sight to watch.
“So tell me, how did you get my name?” asked Sergio while he was in the process of setting up his massage table.
“I got it from Donna Atkins, she says you come very highly recommended.”
“Well, I’ll thank Donna next time I see her,” Sergio replied smoothly, as he finished up snapping the last table leg into place.
“Now tell me, what kind of trouble are you experiencing?”
“Uh, it’s my back, mostly,” Sami Winthrop replied. “I have a lot of stiffness in the morning when I try to bend over.”
“Mmmm, I see,” he replied thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure we can help you with that. If you would please disrobe and climb up on the table we can get started.”
Samantha knew that she would be removing her clothing, but when it finally came down to it, she couldn’t help but be a little bit embarrassed by it all. She shyly turned her back to Sergio and slipped out of her dress, panties and bra.
After she was safely on the table, Sergio covered her from the waist down and gently began manipulating the muscles in her shoulders. “You’re very tense here,” the young man said softly while kneading her deltoids. “I should think that with a couple of sessions a week we should be able to get you up back to snuff.”
The strong soothing hands felt wonderful on her body and, when Sergio squirted warm oil into the small of her back, she sighed happily. He worked in silence for the next ten minutes, the room quiet except for the soothing jazz coming out of his portable CD player.
The sounds of sex could be clearly heard through the thin walls of my college room. There was a squeaking bed, heavy breathing, then not long after a male groan, followed by silence.
Sarah looked at me quizzically. "Can they hear us when we do it?"
I was in my first month of college, and Sarah and I had hooked up pretty quickly. I was beginning to think it had been a mistake; she was a smart, good looking, but unexciting in bed. I was a horny freshman, and wanted to fuck half the girls in college in every possible combination.
"I guess so." I said. "She's never mentioned it, but we don't really talk."
My neighbor was Lucy, and probably number one on the list of girls in college I dreamt of fucking. She was blond, beautiful, with proud tits and perfect heart-shaped ass. Unfortunately she was also one of the many in college entitled from a privileged background. They all knew one another from Eastern society, and those like myself from nowhere special were almost beneath contempt. It had been quite a shock moving here, where socially I was nothing, from my small town where I was a popular athlete.
"Yeah those boarding school girls are incredibly stuck up", sighed Sarah. "I do hate them. Doesn't sound like they get much from those boarding school boys though, he hardly lasted a minute."
Lucy had a boyfriend, or at least I'd seen her several times in the passenger seat of a Porsche convertible. I didn't know who the dude was, but it didn't take much to guess he was senior in the business school. Probably preparing to go into banking, just like his father before him. I'd come to college to get away from my background, though I was finding it wasn't so easy. College was more stratified than high school, and unfortunately my level didn't include any of the really hot girls.
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