0 comments/ 48473 views/ 4 favorites Hawaiian Lay By: Sonny399 Steve bent Lucy face-down over the kitchen counter, and stooped behind her so that her displayed derriere was at eye-level. He ran both hands up her skirt, forcefully with palms flat, and placed them squarely on her buttocks. Through her cotton panties, he began to massage her perfectly-formed ass in alternating fashion: first up-and-down, then side-to-side, then in a circular pattern. Steve tugged the back of her skirt up to give his head enough clearance to duck underneath. There was just something about the warm, musky, just-had-a-pee smell that emanated from between the legs of a woman that got to him. Especially in the case of petite Asian women. The walls of the skirt acted as a canopy to contain the aroma and reflect it back to the center of its confining space. All of the essence she had built up the whole day, coupled with her heightening sexual excitement, was there, like a tangible presence, underneath that skirt . Steve slid one hand up her thigh and under the material of her cotton panty on one side of her leg. He continued to rub, knead, pinch, smack, and generally manhandle Lucy's ass as he saw fit with his left hand. With the other hand, he reached between her legs, lightly fingering and caressing the hood of her clit with the slightest of touches, first through her cotton panties. Then, adeptly moving the cotton material to the right and holding it aside with the last three fingers of his right hand, he exposed her hooded clitoris. He ran the index finger gently in little circles on her pussy lips close to her clit, eventually switching to his tongue to continue the pattern. First gently, then more urgently. This was one heavenly pussy he did not intend to let get away. She couldn't believe where his face was. Her ex-husband, Mr. Conservative, had never gone down on her, ever. Sure she had masturbated before and she knew how good it felt (mmmmmm, how it felt good). But knowing a man was using his tongue to pleasure her, served to increase the feeling's intensity. And he wasn't just licking her sweet spot. He was expertly accessing, it seemed, all her secret crevices, giving her a tongue-bath that washed her in wave after skin-tingling wave. It was as if nerves she hadn't known existed were running from her nether-regions to every pore on her skin. How did she, a middle-aged mother of two grown-up children, wind up here, bent over a kitchen counter, with a man's nose halfway up her ass? She remembered standing in front of the mirror one day, as she frequently did lately since her separation, taking stock of her person and position. It must've been, what?, three months ago now? How time flies... She'd just come out of the shower, toweled off, and was taking inventory in the medicine cabinet mirror. She stared at her chubby but small-boned reflection. Lucy cupped one hand under each of her C-cup breasts lifting them gently. They're starting to sag , she thought pensively. She put her hands on each side of her naked buttocks and spread them. Her bottom remained as firm as ever. She nodded to herself appreciatively. Lucy was 46: a quiet, demure, and unassuming Philippine woman with a good-natured smile that was never far from her lips. She had many girlfriends of long-standing who all swore by her. She usually wore full-length pants in public, pants that were usually coupled with a suit jacket and simple dress-up sandals. She usually wore a pant-suit out, even to make her daily rounds. Her outfit, she reasoned, was probably a little too hot to wear all-year round in the Oahu climate. But Efrin, her recently estranged husband, would hear none of it: she was supposed to dress like the wife, as she was, of a respected Philippine resident living on the island. Leonora was coming to pick her up soon. Leonora, her best friend, was a 37 yr old, long-time divorcee. She was one of those women that had grown up too fast. Back in the Philippines, as a teenager, she was constantly breaking her curfew. She had many male "friends" with which she spent a considerable amount of time with, especially at night. Though her parents didn't know this, she drank far more than was good for her. Leonora could hold her liquor, however, and never did anything she would live to regret with those boys. She just wanted to live her life to the fullest from a very young age. Her parents, fearing for her safety and possible lack of good judgment, had married her off quickly to a distant relative's son. This was only 20 years ago but back then, Philippine parents had every right and social obligation to arrange their child's marriage. For Leonora, who never intended to be tied down, marriage was a disaster and short-lived. The relative's son cheated on her but she could have over-looked that. He was just not the man for her. In order to avoid the expected move back into her parents house as a divorcee, and to escape their control completely, she came to Hawaii. Many of Lucy's girlfriends from back in the Philippines, including Leonora, had told her how their husbands or husbands of women they knew had cheated . Her husband had never cheated on her as far as she knew. He was a good provider and a great father. Their kids thought the world of him. She and him had just grown apart. Her husband had never let Lucy wear anything shorter than a full-length skirt outside of the house. He claimed only the sexually promiscuous women showed off their legs outside of their homes. According to him, these were the only women who wore trampy lingerie and underwear. She knew her husband didn't allow her to wear a short skirt, partly, because of how conservative he was. However, she also instinctively knew without him saying so that he did not want other men to see that which (in his mind) was his alone to enjoy. She would wear a skirt this evening. Not too tight, but not knee length either. Something loose, that came up to her mid-thigh. Round it off with her dress-up sandals. She was ready to step out, but she wasn't about to throw all caution to the wind. The sexy underwear would have to wait for another occasion. The sound of an impatient horn came through the window. She hurried outside to join her friend. She felt the warm evening breeze of late Spring as it came off Walmea Bay. The wind ran up her short skirt, gently caressing her upper thigh and cooling the moistness that had begun to form between her legs. She'd felt the wind upon her legs before as she worked in the backyard and in the house garden wearing her shorts. However, this time, the feeling of the wind served as a reminder of her semi-bare legs in public (sort of) for the first time. The thought of other men lusting after her legs gave her a rush. She and Leonora chatted aimlessly during the drive into town. They were attending one of the numerous open-air seminars that took place this time of the year. She wasn't sure what the topic of this particular seminar was; something to do with economic independence. She only knew that Leonora had invited her out for the evening and she had jumped at the chance to get out of the house and away from her own thoughts. They arrived at the seminar grounds just before the main speaker was to take center stage and they were ushered to their seats. Lucy crossed and un-crossed her legs. Again, something she had done before with clothed legs in public and had done with bare legs in private. But somehow doing it in her skirt out in the open gave her a special thrill. She was sitting on a seat at the end of the row, a seat that abutted the aisle. Chatting with Leonora, she was surreptitiously taking in the crowd from the corner of her eye. She had a gut feeling that a certain guy sitting in one of the seats directly across the aisle, but several rows up, was eyeing her legs. He would turn to look down the aisle as if he was expecting someone to join him. As he turned to face forward again, he was taking in an eyeful of her short skirt and upper thighs, Lucy was quite sure of that. The man was about 25 years old, looked smart in his suit, boyishly handsome, very adorable. Let him look, she thought; maybe I should have worn better panties, she chuckled to herself. Suddenly feeling very wanton and brave, she uncrossed then crossed her legs again to give the young man a private show. After the seminar, Lucy got the distinct feeling her friend were looking for someone in particular. It was nothing Leonora said outright, she just appeared to be distracted. Suddenly, Leonora was waving fiercely to someone across the way. "Come on," she said to Lucy, "there's someone I'd like you to meet." Taking Lucy by the hand, Leonora jostled her way through the dispersing crowd and across the expanse of lawn. She pulled up in front of a handsome stranger. Leonora and Steve had met in the hospital. He'd injured his back on base while training (or so he told the charge nurse upon admission. Actually, he'd fallen out of his top bunk during a tryst with a female cadet). According to Steve, he didn't think it was a big deal at the time the injury was sustained. But, after feeling constant back pain for three days, he finally decided to check himself into the local hospital's emergency room on his own time. He was seen by Leonora, who was on duty that day. He and Leonora had gotten to talking about this and that, and had hit it off almost immediately. They were both free spirits who liked to grab life by the you-know-what. She was already seeing someone, but she had thought to herself, "He'd be perfect for someone I know." "What a surprise!" Leonora exclaimed, trying to sound delightfully shocked. To Lucy, who'd known her for more than ten years, it rang hollow. Lucy had a feeling that Leonora was up to something. But what? "Imagine running into you, here." Then, turning to Lucy, "This is Steve, an acquaintance of mine from the hospital. Steve, Lucy. She's one of my best friends." Lucy offered her hand ("Acquaintance?" she thought) , tentatively. He took it assuredly, in a polite and not-too-firm handshake. "How do you do?" he smiled. "Very well, and you?" she answered. His smile was quite engaging, she had to admit. She returned his gesture. Steve was 37 and rather tall at 6'5", a fact which most of the women he dated found to be irresistible. Though he had been in the army all his adult life, he was not massively built. In his clothing, which he usually wore one or two sizes too large, he looked like your average 6'5" Joe. It was only when he took off his shirt that you could see just how in shape he was, and see his toned abdominal muscles. His rock hard abs, along with his give-away hair cut, were the only clues to his military lifestyle. He was not a huge talker, although he could turn on the charm when the need arose. He had a laid-back attitude and easy-going smile, both of which women found fascinating also. Momentary awkward pause. Then, Leonora, to Lucy: "Steve and I were talking the other day. He's a lieutenant stationed over at Schofield/Shafter base." The three of them shot the breeze for a while, rehashing the circumstances of his hospital visit, and discussing the just-concluded presentation. "Steve, would you mind driving Lucy home? I'm on my way to work and I'd have to drive in the complete opposite direction just to drop her off. She lives just outside of Haleiwa." He nodded, "Not a problem. I live in Waialua, it's not terribly out of my way." So, that's it, Lucy thought. She's setting me up. "You're such a gentleman," Leonora said. She kissed Lucy on the cheek and said, "I'm sorry to pawn you off like this, I'm running very late. I'll call you later, hon, to see how it went." Leonora gave her friend a conspiratorial wink, a gesture she did not intend for Steve to notice. Steve noticed. The entire ride home, he tried desperately not to look at her tanned, golden brown legs in the passenger's seat next to him. He imagined what it would be like to run his hands up the back of her smooth legs, up under her skirt. To pass the palm of his hand over her smooth buttocks. With great effort, he snapped himself back to the present. He asked her about herself. She had two kids, and was recently separated; that was all she seemed willing to share at the moment. Although he didn't intend it to be such, he wound up telling her more about himself than he planned. Steve grew up an army brat. His father was stationed in Thailand after the Vietnam war as part of the United States attempt to monitor that region of the world after the end of hostilities. Although, Steve home-schooled for the first several years of his academic life, he was eventually enrolled in public school with the rest of the Thai children. While he was a very good student when he was tutored at home, his enrollment in public school at the age of 12 marked the end of any great scholastic achievement he might have attained. This was all for one simple fact: he absolutely, positively, unquestioningly loved the opposite sex. As a younger boy, when other boys his age would not yet have been interested in girls, he would look out his bedroom window at the girls passing by on their way home from school. In his innocent way, he always thought they looked pretty. But once he was allowed to go to school with the rest of the children, he found that he really enjoyed just being around girls. He loved their attractive faces, the way they dressed , the way they talked, the way they smelled, the way they smiled at him. He just loved everything about them; he had to spend time with them. As he grew to adulthood, his innocent pre-pubescent thoughts of admiration turned to more lustful ones. He was aware of how their once straight and comparatively boyish forms were filling out quite nicely. He was particularly fond of the female derriere. There was just something about the pert, little bottom of Asian women that he couldn't resist. He longed to look up their school skirts and smell their virgin pussies. When he was 16, he even went as far as paying a Thai prostitute for the privilege of grabbing, feeling, and licking her ass while she gave him his first blowjob. Women were his life, there was simply no time for anything else, including schoolwork. At about the time when Steve completed high school (he'd barely scraped by and had repeated a year), his father was decommissioned from the army and his family returned to the States. His parents divorced soon after that. To please his father, whom he greatly admired, he applied to several colleges. He knew, however, his grades and academic records would make it difficult for any institution to accept him. After several of his applications were turned down, as he'd expected, he just gave up. Steve told his parents that he too was joining the army. He continued to date but never had a steady girlfriend. Given the state of his parents' dissolved union, he was not prepared to enter any long-lasting relationship whatsoever. Besides, the world was full of beautiful women who loved him just as much as he loved them. Though Uncle Sam never did deploy him to the orient as he would have hoped, Steve did have the semi-good fortune to be sent to Schofield Barracks on Oahu. Hawaii had a thriving Asian culture and population. Steve didn't tell her all this. Just the part about his family-life, his upbringing, his parents. He neglected to mention his fascination with women, or his sub-standard academic history. To hear him tell it, he joined the army just to emulate his father. Following her meticulous directions, he pulled up outside of a one-story, single-wall, wood-framed house. A flash of thigh, and she had opened the offside passenger door and climbed out; before he had a chance to get out and open it for her. She stood there at curbside and looked at him with a polite expression on her face. "May I call you sometime?" he asked Even though he had done more than his share of talking during the ride home, she had liked the sound of his voice. It was cultured and neat. Moreover, she could use a man's opinion and conversation every now and then. Though, she and Efrin were still on speaking terms, they didn't talk much. She pretended to think for a while. "On one condition. Tell me how you and Leo happened to 'coincidentally' bump into each other today." Steve chuckled softly. "Was it that obvious?" "No, but she was." He, holding up both hands, feigning innocence, "It was all her idea, honest. I had nothing to do with it. How could I even know she had an eligible friend?" Lucy, in mock surprise, "You would sell her out just to get my number? Is it that important to you?" Now it was his turn to pretend to mull things over. "Ummm.....yes, I guess I would." She gladly gave him her number. Though she was not entirely ready to jump back into the dating scene, she had thought about him since their first meeting. She wondered about all the places he'd been. She wondered about all the women he'd slept with. He probably had women left and right chasing him. But most of all she wondered about how it would feel to have his strong hands (or any man's, for that matter) on her, or how it would feel to have him laying on top of her, kissing her face with his full lips. It was during these times of fantasizing that she would sit on her plush, bedroom carpet facing her full-length mirror. She would spread her legs wide and massage her yearning clit right through her jeans or whatever pants she happened to have on at the time. She'd throw her head back and really get into it. She would go at it until she was nice and wet. However, she always stopped short of making herself cum. Part of her didn't know exactly how to get herself to that point (she'd only had a handful of orgasms in her experience, all quite by accident), while another part of her wanted to save that special moment for the real thing. Since that initial meeting, he'd invited her out on several occasions. "Lucy, I really enjoyed talking and sharing with you, and would like to see you again. Would you like to attend a wedding with me? A week from Saturday? It's for one of my army buddies who's finally getting married. I guess I'm asking you to be my date." He waited hopefully. "Oh Steve, I'm so sorry, I can't," Lucy said. "I have a rotary club meeting that afternoon." Which she didn't. "I see," Steve replied. She sounded apologetic enough, but her response was too glib. Momentary pause, then "Well, another time maybe?" he said, forcing himself to sound upbeat. "Sure...and thank you for the invite, really," she said, trying to let him down gently. That was two-and-a-half months ago. For a while, Steve thought that that "other time" was never going to happen. There was always a convenient yet plausible excuse. She was going to Honolulu International Airport to pick up her mother. (That was a lie, her mother hated to fly.) She and her separated husband were having dinner with old friends and wanted to put on a good appearance (another lie). Leonora invited her to tag along to a baby shower for one of her hospital co-workers. (Semi-true: that event actually happened but it wasn't at the time of their projected rendezvous.) Then one day, she said yes. He had called her as he always did on Friday evening to find out how her week went. It was nearing the end of the conversation. He was about to wish her a pleasant night and hang up, when he threw out an invitation to her out of habit. "Hey Lucy, you wouldn't happen to be doing anything tomorrow evening? We could catch the air show at Dillingham Air field." "Okay," she said. Steve nearly fell off the chair he was sitting on. He wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "I beg your pardon?" "I said, yes, that would be lovely," Lucy repeated, politely enough. Inwardly, she was laughing to herself. The boy must be in shock, she thought. "Yeah, right, good enough.....I mean, I'll pick you up at-let's see-4? How does 4 sound? Pm, I mean." He'd momentarily been thrown for a loop. Later, when he'd hung up he got the distinct feeling she had been mocking him. Hawaiian Lay The air show was a blast, literally and figuratively. Once again, he could sense the chemistry and attraction between them: the same chemistry and attraction he'd felt at their first meeting, the only other time they'd talked face to face. Steve couldn't help staring at her smooth, golden-brown, legs protruding from the end of her mid-length skirt. He imagined himself between them, with the inside of each thigh pressed closely against one side of his head. He also imagined a face-full of her muff. Now here he was, two hours later, right where he had hoped he'd be. He inserted his tongue in and out of her vagina in an even and repetitive stroking motion. He tongue-fucked her like he'd never done to any other woman before. Her syrupy cunt juices on his tongue were like sweet nectar. * * * * * He tugged her panties from her gloriously supple buttocks, all the way down past her thighs, knees, and calves to her ankles. Lucy, taking the hint, stepped out of her cotton briefs. Steve stood up from his squat position, impatiently but gently grabbing for her left hand. He pulled her up from her bent-over position and pulled her close to him. He dropped his mouth hungrily on hers, letting her sample the delicacies of her own essence. While kissing her, Steve ran his hands up the back of her thighs, and let his palms rest heavily on her buttocks. For a middle-aged woman, Lucy's bottom was nice and toned. He suspected she did a lot of walking on the island. Lucy didn't know what was coming over her. There was his mouth locked down on hers, enveloping her in a torrent of passion. She suddenly felt very bold and aggressive. She wanted to tear this man's clothes from his rock-solid body. As Lucy began to undo the buttons of his floral shirt, he back-pedaled towards the bed with her in tow, all the while remaining lip-locked. In a flash, he had removed his own pants and boxers and let them fall to the floor. Casually laying her down on the bed covers, he proceeded to hike her skirt over her head and take off her blouse. Even in her ardor she was keenly aware that her bra did not match her discarded panties. He bent over her as she lay on her back, and begin to lick and softly suck on her exposed belly. As he moved his mouth up her body and toward her breasts, he passed the fingertips of one hand over both areolae and both nipples. He flicked his tongue in the valley between her breasts, while cupping the outside of each breast with one hand. Pressing her tits from the outside, he rubbed the inside of each one against the closest side of his face. Presently, he was suckling on her round mounds and light-chocolate-colored areolae. He had a particular fetish for the areolae of darker-complexioned Asian women. He propped her bottom up with a pillow. He guided the head of his penis to the entrance of her vagina. He didn't enter her just yet; he rubbed the head along her pussy lips. After a minute or two of this, Lucy wanted to scream at him to put it in. As if he could sense her anticipation, he finally inserted his penis a quarter of the way into her, very slowly. Pulling out just as slowly, he then entered her halfway. He continued his pattern of entering her by quarters and then withdrawing almost completely, until he had entered her all the way. Maintaining a slow rhythm, he alternated his thrusts with almost complete withdrawal. While keeping up his rhythmic thrusts, he cottoned onto her right leg. He licked her from the back of her calf to her heel, ending with a kiss on the back of her foot. Steve sucked on her big toe. All the while, he never broke from his languid pace. Lucy, in a fit of passion and also out of sheer habit, turned her head from side to side. Picking up the pace slightly, he bent down to kiss her behind the ear and on her gracefully exposed neck. Her fragrance was quite heady. He kissed her on the cheek. He kissed her full on her perfectly formed lips, while running his hand through her luxurious hair. The frenzied way she whipped her head from side to side was getting to him. She had some of the most beautiful cum faces he'd ever seen. She was either a good actress or was thoroughly enjoying herself. It was probably a little of both, he reasoned. He loved seeing her breasts, with those light-chocolate-colored areolae, bouncing up and down in unison on her chest. Even more, he longed to borough his face in her hair between her shoulder blades; to see the dip and curvature of her strong spine; to see the pool of sweat collect in the small of her back; to see and feel the top of her backside slapping against his groin. Almost every aspect of the female form drove him wild. He couldn't wait to enter her from behind. Up until now, Lucy had only experienced sex with one man (she was a virgin when she got married). Efrin had been a little on the short side in terms of size. It was difficult for her to grasp the fact that she was making love to this man who was not her husband. This tall dark hunk of a man with his bigger than average member that seemed to be filling her petite body from the inside. Part of her was apprehensive of what he was doing to her tight, pert little vagina. Another part of her couldn't care less; on the contrary, that other part of her wanted to be fucked faster than she'd ever been fucked before, to be fucked downright better than she'd ever been fucked before. She wanted his precious cock to fill her up over and over again. She wanted to be stretched, both physically and mentally. She wanted to do crazy things with and to this man. Things she'd never dreamed of, much less done before. Lucy was reminded of her love-making sessions with Efrin. They would do it either doggy-style or in the missionary position. When they were in the missionary position, she would have to look over either shoulder, and not look at him directly. But, sometimes she couldn't help herself: she had to see the face of the man that was making love to her. She would look into Efrin's face with the briefest of glimpses, then quickly shift her gaze to a point over either shoulder. And even if he was caught up in the rapture of the moment, or concentrating on his own selfish technique, somehow he would always catch her glance. Then he would either give her a stern look, or make her assume the doggy-style position to avoid her scrutiny. Sometime either later in the day or the next morning, he'd give her the cold shoulder. During their twenty-year marriage, he'd always been self-conscious about his "performance" in the bedroom. If only Efrin had known how indifferent she'd often been... Finally, Lucy's curiosity got the better of her and she turned to peak at her lover behind her. Steve had a semi-focused , pleasurable expression on his face, as he tried to maintain his rhythmic thrusts. He caught her eye after a second as she peered at him. He gave her a droopy-eyed smile that she reciprocated. Then, as if reading her mind, he grabbed her shoulder-length hair and began to pull on it ever-so-gently. The pull didn't cause her any pain or discomfort. It was just enough to create a subtle tugging on her scalp, which felt very erotic. It reminded her of the many hours, as a young woman, she used to spend brushing her hair (which used to be much longer) in front of the mirror. The rhythmic slapping of his genitals against hers, coupled with the tickling sensation of her pussy-hairs, was proving too much for him. Steve could no longer contain himself. He had to pull himself out to avoid an "accident". Are you crazy?, he asked himself, this is nirvana. Stay in, enjoy yourself, let yourself go. Reason won out, and in a split-second he had pulled out and aimed for the small of her back. He unloaded. A voice he barely recognized as his own could be heard moaning, as if in the distance. He fell face down onto the bed by her side. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close for a kiss. That was one of the most explosive orgasms he'd ever had, and it left him feeling a little guilty. He was usually more attentive to his partner's needs during lovemaking. But, so caught up was he in the rapture of her sweet pussy , he'd totally forgotten about her pleasure. You idiot, he thought to himself, a woman can't come from intercourse alone. You should have played with her clit, or fondled her breasts while you were doing her doggy-style. Steve was already making a mental resolution that next time (please, he thought, let there be a next time), it would be all about her. He kissed her full on the lips, then looked at her with his best guilty puppy expression. To his slight amazement, she seemed to have a contented look in her eyes. A moment ago, he was about to apologize for his performance, and promise to make it up to her. Now, seeing that she was obviously pleased, he didn't know what to say. "Well, that was....." he started. "You don't mind if i just look at you for a moment, do you?" Lucy asked. Steve looked at her quizzically through drooping eyelids, trying to read her thoughts. Finally, he gave up. "Not at all." he said. With that, he kissed her again, this time on her forehead, and promptly went to sleep. And for a long time, Lucy watched him. Hawaiian Lover I was told to meet my mistress here behind our hotel in a remote location in Hawaii. I find her car and search where she told me to go. I finally find her at a pool and waterfall off the path I have been searching on. She is standing under a waterfall, the water is rushing over her body, making her swimsuit very clingy. I dive under the water and swim over to her. Under the water I begin kissing her legs, thighs, and sides. I come out of the water licking my way upward, up over her breasts, over her neck, and lips. I kiss her deeply as the water pounds down over our bodies. That is when she notices that I am not wearing my trunks. She slaps my ass and tells me to undress her. As I do she makes sure that I am given a good view of her body. She hands me her suit and tells me to swim back to the shore and put her suit next to mine then to swim back. As I swim to the shore with her suit in my teeth as instructed I am nibbled on by tiny fish, this excites me and makes it difficult to breathe through the suit. Finally I make it and place her suit next to mine. I start the swim back. On the way back I notice that she has placed a foot up on a rock and has begun to play with her self as she watched me swim. I eagerly swim up under her and begin licking. I shove my tongue deeply into her pussy and nudge her clit with my nose. She gasps and grabs my hair shoving my face into her pussy. This is my cue I know and I begin fucking her with my tongue as hard as I can. I can stand it no longer and begin to play with my cock under the water. "That's for me to play with or leave alone!" She pulls me up out of the water by my hair and bends me over at the waist placing my ass under the waterfall. "So you will learn to do only as I say the water will punish you while I play with MY cock, as it is not yours to play with slave." She leans me over two stones making a tent under the waterfall where my cock juts out in frustration. The water begins to pound on my ass as she slips under me and places my cock in her mouth. She begins to slide her mouth up and down my shaft as she gently pulls on my balls. I cry out in pleasure and frustration. She sucks faster as I moan, the water still pounding on my ass. I jerk my hips foreword as I feel her sneak a finger around between my ass cheeks. She takes her mouth off my cock long enough to tell me to spread my ass for her fingers, then she sucks my cock back into her mouth and begins to slide her fingers in and out of my ass. I feel so completely fucked I am screaming. I begin to tense ready to cum when she releases my cock and shoves it under the cold water, I cry out in pain but it keeps me from cumming. "Not until you fuck me slave!" She sits up on the rocks and spreads her legs. I kneel in front of her and place my cock at the entrance to her pussy, playing the tip of my cock over her clit. I massage her clit with my cock as I am supposed to, bringing moans and gasps of pleasure from her. I await her next command, hoping I can meet her demands of me. "Now." she whispers and I slide into her. I begin to fuck her faster as the water pours over me. I fuck her faster as her hand reaches down to play with her clit while her other hand slaps my ass. I am so close to cumming I beg her to let me release when she does. I pray she is close. Finally she wraps her legs around me, throws her head back and screams, "Cum nowwwww!!!" My cock explodes in her jerking back and forth. I cum deeply and completely every musele shaking. As I begin to relax she pushes my head down and tells me to eat the cum out of her, and when I have a mouthful to come up and share it with her. I drop to my knees and do so. I repeat the process until she decides she is clean. When I have cleaned her out she has cum three more times. She takes me back to the shore by my cock which has grown hard again, hopeful to please. She picks up her suit and mine telling me to walk back to the car nude. When I reach the car she climbs in to the drivers seat and tells me that I can not get dressed until we are near the hotel, and I am to play with my self all the way there in order to entertain her. I am as always eager to please. Hawaiian Loving [This story is similar to my "Meeting Leilani" story in that I wrote about experiences on the same Hawaiian vacation. However, unlike my Leilani story that was mostly true, this erotic story is mostly fantasy. You will have to share the fantasy and decide for yourself how much fun I had. I wish to acknowledge proofreading help provided by volunteer editors who work without compensation. Improving the grammar and mechanics of this story were the efforts of MarieWriter and estragon. Then, when I needed some extra help making the characters work, MarieWriter showed the depth of her talent when she gave the extra effort that turned this story into the gem that I wanted it to be. ©Sandra Mustard 2012] Walking from our plane through the terminal, glass doors slid open before us and we stepped out onto an open-air walkway, headed toward baggage claim. Warm, floral-scented, tropical air welcomed us to the islands of perpetual summer. Caramel-skinned girls in muumuus handed out leis to every arriving passenger. Despite the fragrant adornment, I did not feel connected to paradise yet, still constricted by the heavy clothing that I wore since leaving a different season behind that morning in the Midwest. Aloha Tower said it was late afternoon but my body said it was nearly bedtime. Not yet suppertime on Oahu, my stomach would have anxiously sought nourishment if the airplane food didn't still sit heavy in my gut. Despite the effects of jetlag, my spirits were beginning to respond to the seductive swishing of palm trees doing a hula in the wind. Family, job, almost life itself had been left at home and the fun-girl inside me was ready to cut loose for two weeks. Riding the elevator to the 18th floor of our hotel on Waikiki, Woody pulled me close. "We're gonna have a great time here, Babe," he said and his lips covered mine with passionate sensations that have thrilled me since high school. Our bellhop discreetly kept his eyes on the floor indicator but I would not have minded if he watched us intently. I was in the mood for an audience. I looked the copper-skinned islander over; young and handsome, his floral shirt was open an extra button to show hairless pecs; he would do nicely. Walking us ahead of the luggage cart, Woody opened the last door on the right. Heavy drapes enclosed the room, shutting out the sunny world we paid a hefty price to visit. I didn't fly nine hours in a tin tube to sit in a cave so I headed toward the nearest drapes across from the foot of the bed. Pulling the heavy fabric wall aside, and a gauzy curtain likewise dispatched, I slid the glass panels apart to gaze at the city climbing up the side of a mountain until shrouded in clouds. Woody and the bellhop with the smooth pecs were unloading our luggage from the cart when I opened a second set of drapes and doors on our corner room. I gasped; Diamond Head, framed outside our window, would be the backdrop for our bedroom antics for the next five days. I couldn't wait to hang loose as the islanders encourage so I stepped over to the head of the bed just out of the bellhop's sight and started to remove my pants. Woody noticed me undressing. Turning his back to me, he stood near the closet to increase my privacy while the young worker put our final bag away. Meanwhile, I had pulled my blouse off over my head and stood in panties and bra. Woody patted his pockets in an obvious pantomime looking for his wallet and then, as if just remembering, he stepped toward his travel bag on the dresser and away from his position in front of the bellhop. We were an intuitive and well-rehearsed team. From where the surprised young man stood at the edge of the closet, he could see me now as I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. Excitement tickled the pit of my stomach and stiffened my nipples. I looked downward at the bed as if unaware of the stranger in the room and pulled my bra off. Waiting long enough to convince him I wouldn't look up, I peeked at him. His head was pointing at Woody but his eyes were looking toward me. Woody was stalling for me, struggling to find his wallet, then flipping through bills looking for denominations he wanted. Just as he pulled the money out of his wallet, I slipped my panties to the floor. Woody stood motionless holding the money, letting the young man admire me undisturbed, although it seemed nothing would have distracted his focus. I turned to face the lad; this is what I crave and why I have become addicted to exhibitionism. Standing nude before a strange man, having him stare at my tits, my pussy, knowing he's thinking sexual thoughts; it all turns me on more than you would believe. His gaze never shifted away from my pussy, causing tingly sensations under my skin. I'm old school and never shave, so he saw what my husband calls my seashell hair pattern. Seconds ticked away with none of us moving. He showed an if-you're-going-to-stand-there-naked-I'm-going-to-look attitude despite my very large husband in front of him. I started to get wet and worried it would leak visibly down my leg. I pulled my shoulders back to lift 'the girls' the way I have all my life, marched along the bed, and then straight toward our startled voyeur. He looked as though he would pop like a balloon if I touched him. I took the cash-tip from Woody's hand, raised the bellhop's hand, and slapped the money into his palm. "There you go, sweetie. Excuse us now, we have things to do." Placing my hand on his elbow hanging at his side, I drew close until my nipple pressed against his arm. I escorted him toward the still open door; his dangling hand bounced against my striding thigh; his eyes cast sideways, drinking in my nakedness. At the doorway, I stopped to peer down the hall when suddenly, the nervy lad's hand cupped my pussy. His middle finger shimmied between my labia to stroke my wet inner flesh. Such audacity demonstrated by this employee, touching a hotel guest sexually! I stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, time enough for him to collect my scent for jerk material before I pushed him away. "You better go now." Turning back into our room and closing the door, I watched for a moment as Woody franticly pulled off his clothes. It had been a great flash for me, up close and personal, leaving me excited and wet. When I saw Woody's engorged cock flop out, I knew my exhibition had filled my lover with desire too. Watching me perform and the bellhop's reactions were things that never failed to make my hubby hell-bent on dick dipping but after nine hours sardined in the plane, I wanted to freshen up first. Woody grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bed. My hand anchored on the doorjamb and I pulled him back toward the bathroom. He wanted to fuck. I wanted to shower. We compromised; we fucked in the shower. I imagined the hand eagerly washing my vulva belonged to the young bellhop and shuddered through a quick orgasm. My husband is 6'2"; I'm only 5'6"; standing flat-footed, we just don't line up; so, we reverted to an old trick. Standing with one foot on each side of the tub rim, I squatted down to lower my honey pot onto his love-pole. Grabbing the water control handle for support as if it were a bridle, I rode my lover like a jockey on a racehorse, bouncing myself on one hell of a saddle horn toward the finish line and a semen-douche. I had arrived in paradise! Woody lingered on the balcony while I dressed. I slipped a light sundress over matching underwear but then Woody came striding toward me, shaking his head while clicking his tongue. "No, no, no. Let me show you how I want you to dress." He pulled the dress straps off my shoulders and removed my bra. Squatting in front of me, he reached under the sundress and yanked my panties down. Lifting the hem just an inch or two, he looked at my pussy. "Yeah, that's what I wanna see." His breath brushed my clit; his deep voice registering on excited nerves. I wanted his tongue to ravage me but he gave my slit one little curled-tongue lick as if sampling an ice cream cone and then abruptly stood up; damn, he is such a tease! "Remember your promise, Babe, the whole vacation." Why did I even bring underwear? Partaking of the hotel's buffet, we sat in an open lanai with a panoramic view of the sun edging down toward the ocean horizon. The low angle sunlight glared like a spotlight up my legs but the only persons in a position to see my sex was a seventy-ish couple. The man was still a dashing specimen with a fatherly smile that made me want to sit in his lap and have him tell me stories. The blue-haired biddy looked like she chased kids away with a broomstick. She spotted my game first and tossed a dinner roll down on her plate in disgust. She spoke to her husband and he turned to take an obvious gander up my gams. His smile countered her scowl. That he appreciated the view worsened her mood. "C'mon, Bill. I'm leaving!" she snapped, arose from their table, and walked past me with what she intended to be a withering glare. Bill dallied like a sailor enjoying a bit of shore leave. He left a tip for the cleanup crew and then turned to take one last look at my exposed vulva. As he passed our table, I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Bill, I'm sorry my attire spoiled your wife's supper," I told him, boldly admitting my exposure and awareness. "Don't worry about Sally. She doesn't enjoy anything anymore. I still enjoy coming to the islands to take in the beautiful scenery. I must say it was extra beautiful today. Thank you." He took hold of my hand and raised it to his lips for a gallant kiss. As he let my arm lower, my dress strap slid off my shoulder, exposing most of my right breast. I used my left hand to grab my dress but instead of pulling it up, I pulled it away from my chest to show him my nipple for about three seconds. "Bill!" Sally screeched from a doorway far away. "You have a beautiful wife, young man," Bill said to my husband and then walked away in a sea dog's rolling gait, an old sailor going back to his tired old ship and a salty life. * * * Two drinks at the hotel bar facilitated a nap to help adjust our body clocks. I awoke to an empty bed and spotted Woody out on the balcony peering around with his compact binoculars. He was naked; his creamy buttocks beckoning me like a tropical moon. Although it was nearly midnight, the bright lights of Honolulu beamed from below. A waist-high cement wall hid his penis from all but those on higher floors of other hotels. Noise from the streets below cloaked my approach so I spoke from the doorway to avoid startling my hubby. "See anything exciting, Darlin'?" I asked as I padded outside in my birthday suit. His eyes scanned me up and down; his smile told me I had provided that very thing. "There are lots of people unashamed to be seen. But right now, I'm watching the hookers working the street down there." Together, we watched two working girls march up and down the block, stopping to lean into cars that pulled to the curb. A stretch-limo pulled over and after a brief negotiation, both women climbed into the vehicle. Well, somebody was getting some action! Woody handed me the binoculars and I began scanning nearby hotel rooms for free sex shows. I looked into one room with two naked bodies thrashing on the bed and waited for a chance to see their identities. Suddenly, hands on my ass pulled my sex against Woody's bearded face and his tongue wiggled on my clit. I almost dropped the binoculars over the wall. I looked down to see him sitting in front of me, lapping my love juices with ecstatic abandon. Spotting movement, I lifted the glasses to my eyes and looked for the lovers again. They were standing now, a short thin man with a lengthy cock that was hanging heavy. At first, I mistook the other person for a big, heavy woman until I realized it was another male with man-boobs and a negligible penis under a hefty gut. Although tolerant of what consenting adults choose to do, they no longer provided voyeuristic entertainment for me. Besides, Woody was making my legs quiver, so I put the binoculars down on a table and held onto the balcony railing for dear life. I know most women take a while to cook up a good orgasm but not me. When Woody gives me face, I can cum in less than a minute and this night was no exception. The first wave of passion burning inside my blood weakened my legs until I was falling backwards. Woody's arms helped me land gently on my bottom and we swiveled around so he could stretch out between my legs. His attack was relentless. Lying on the hard concrete balcony, looking up at a full moon, I squirmed and moaned as I chain-orgasmed to oblivion. * * * I awoke in the morning, uncertain what happened after the balcony sex. Woody does that to me on occasion, makes me orgasm so often and so furiously that I pass out. A dozen men could have had me during the night and I would not have known. I checked myself but didn't find evidence of semen inside or out, so even Woody hadn't taken a plunge. Anyway, he says fucking me when I'm unconscious is like putting his prick into pudding. After a breakfast of more fruit than I normally consume in a month, we showered and groomed for our first full day on Oahu. We planned to buy new swimsuits and snorkeling gear to use throughout our vacation. A little scissor trim made sure I could be as boldly skimpy as my nerve would allow. At home and around people who know me, I appear mature and modest in one-piece swimwear. Here, where everyone was a stranger, I wanted a colorful bikini that showed a body I was proud to display. Woody needed a new suit too. His white suit was getting threadbare and the mesh liner was ... missing, he claimed, tongue-in-cheek. It was great for teasing interested ladies and me but not for beaches full of families. Walking to the market area that parallels the beach we began our shopping. We entered a store that looked like it had expanded to swallow adjacent stores. The end section that contained the swimwear was farthest away from the cash registers. The building structure, narrower but deeper than the others, created an alcove at the back wall where two curtained changing rooms were positioned along the short inner wall. Woody walked up to a rack of suits, found his size, and grabbed two, then headed for the changing room. Honestly, the way men shop is comical, making selections based on as much thought processing as ordering from a fast-food menu. I spent nearly fifteen minutes finding one suit I liked enough to try on, a white bikini emblazoned with bright tropical flowers. 'Trikini' would be more accurate because it was three tiny triangles of cloth with more connective string surface area than fabric. When I approached the dressing rooms, both curtains appeared closed so I called out, "Woody?" "In here, Babe," his voice came from the one farthest back. I stepped to the curtain that gapped open nearly six inches and saw my naked husband pulling on his penis. He was 'fluffing' which is to say, he was making his penis longer and fatter than his pure flaccid state, hoping some lucky woman would see him exposed through the open curtain. I looked around but could see no shoppers of either sex so I conveyed the situation with a shake of my head. Before I shared his room to try on my suit, I decided to confirm someone occupied the other room. Moving my head slightly, I looked through a slim opening and saw a tall young man. Well, eventually I saw he was young and tall, but what I looked at first was his hand slowly stroking his long cock. Was he ten inches maybe? Without a tape measure handy, ten is guessing but he was a lot longer than my husband who I have measured at six. Ducking my head into Woody's cubicle, I pointed at the other room, made a male masturbation gesture, and then held my hands two feet apart. Woody grabbed his shorts and started to dress. Perhaps he needed to see this alleged two-foot cock first hand. I looked back through the slit to find slender fingers rubbing a full erection, definitely double-digit length, but skinny like a pool stick with a pointy glans. He seemed to be putting on a show for me but I couldn't tell how he knew I was watching. From observing and assisting my exhibitionist husband, I knew two things: the guy had to know I was watching ... and he wanted me to watch. When I moved sideways, I realized he could see my face at the slit by watching in the mirror. I leaned forward, pushing my whole head inside his curtain. Just as our bellhop had done yesterday, the naked man with a cock in his hand turned to face me with a surprised expression, not sure what I would do next. Pre-cum was hanging like fishing line off his willow-stick. I reached in with my hand to collect the seminal drool and rubbed it on his cockhead. His rod was slender enough for my fingers to reach around easily. His gasp-like sounds of sexual torment suggested that my touch nearly set him off. Woody can launch ropes of cum several feet. As close as I stood, I feared getting spunk on my dress so I backed away to stand again behind the curtain. "Come on, sweetie. Stroke that snake for me. Show me your cum," I urged. He was close to eruption; after just a few violent jerks, he leaned his hips forward with a deep groan ... and dribbled pathetic globs straight down. Damn! If I had known that, I could have been holding him. I like to feel the semen pump through the shaft. I reached into my beach bag to pull out napkins leftover from breakfast. Cooing about his manhood while bending over him until my nose was inches from his penis, I held his softening cock up to wipe the glans clean, the acrid smell of semen filling my nostrils. I backed out of the cubicle and bumped into Woody who had been peering over my back. I dragged him some distance away to talk to him while I waited for the young man to come out. "Did you see the size of him?" "Yeah, but a real pencil-dick. Ya know, you're getting pretty wild, reaching in to touch another man's cock. Did you enjoy that?" Touching or being touched had always been our de facto boundary of fooling around with others but rarely happened. "I'm surprised I did that too." "Did you want to do more?" "Yeah." I learned a long time ago to be honest with my mate; 'no' would have been a lie. "Really? What?" Well, now I had to admit what 'what' was but I've never been afraid to share my thoughts and desires with my lover. "I thought about sucking him." I just never expected my husband's response. "Well, go back and do it!" "Are you serious?" I asked and studied his eyes. "Dead serious. Any sex you want." To us, sex is any orgasm: masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, and of course, intercourse. His eyes told me I had carte blanche. Pillow talk had explored the fantasies of an open marriage but never had we dabbled before now. Without time to discuss openness again, Woody let me know that he was done talking and ready for acting. I didn't have time to ponder my sexual opportunity because I saw the willowy young man and his obvious trouser snake come out of the dressing room. He took a step up our aisle and then recognized me but stopped dead when he saw the large man standing with me. I briskly approached him before he could escape up another aisle. Pulling his arm to get his attention, I said, "It's your turn to watch me." As I turned away, my hand slid down to his crotch and cupped his package. He was either still nervous about my husband or suffering from post-ejaculation remorse because he ignored my invitation and remained rooted in place when I entered the cubicle Woody had used. Neither did he approach as I slipped off my dress. With no voyeur to please, I put on the bikini and then stepped out. At least he hadn't bolted. I stood in front of the mirror on the back wall. Asking for opinions, I drew both men close behind me. I looked like a kitten that had tumbled in a sewing basket, wrapped in string and bits of cloth. The bikini bottoms were miniscule, allowing a tuft of pubic hair to peek out over the top. I pulled the material out away from my mons as I tugged it up, giving my observers clear views of my full bush. The tiny triangles on top barely covered my nipples too, and I managed to expose both nubs to them during repeated adjustments. Hawaiian Loving Twisting my body around, the three of us had a look at my backside in the mirror. We saw all of me, covered in nothing more than two horizontal strings and a third disappearing into my butt-crack, resembling some freak mishap with a giant yoyo. Almost naked, I was traipsing around in front of this stranger hoping to excite him into ... what? Cashing the sex-coupon my husband just gave me? It looked as though I would have to be the aggressor. With the stranger in the right position just outside my cubicle, I ducked back in but left the curtain wide open. Quickly, I pulled off the bikini and turned to face him. Tweaking a nipple with one hand and rubbing my pussy with the other, I watched him while he intently watched me. I was extremely aroused and could have cum simply by jilling for him but I wanted more. I reached out to pull him by the arm into my cubicle, assisted by a nudge from behind by Woody. I put one of his hands on my breast and one between my legs. My juices were flowing over our hands as he hesitantly probed my love hole. He started slow but then got into it. His probing found my clit and my reaction convinced him to give it plenty of attention. Unable to hold back the tide, I leaned against him and shuddered in a hot, melting orgasm. I wasn't going to let his mind or mine change. Dropping to my knees, I grabbed his cargo shorts and yanked them to his ankles. Pulling down his boxers, I quickly put his slender cock past my lips. I marveled at the tangy pre-cum of this excited lad coating my tongue. I could take him deep and still be able to curl two fists around his shaft. Figuring his recent masturbation would make him last a long time, I worked him energetically, slurping and sliding my mouth on him. Woody entered the cubicle; I figured it meant he wanted a ringside seat to watch his wife suck another man's cock. I was wrong; he wanted a box seat. Woody lifted me off my knees without disturbing my oral ministrations. A loud moan escaped my mouth when Woody's hard cock slid into my sopping-wet pussy. I noted every sensation I could identify as I enjoyed two cocks for the first time. Woody's thick phallus easily bumped me to two orgasms while I slobbered over the young man's dick. When Woody moaned, "Oh, Babe, I'm getting close," I pulled away from both cocks. Turning around, I took my man's cock orally as deep as I could and wiggled my tongue under his shaft. I nearly jumped when the stranger's long cock slid into my vagina. Whether Woody had suggested it with some gesture I didn't see or simply permitted the act, he willingly let another man fuck me. With all former rules and limits cast aside, I enjoyed both men shoving their hard cocks into me. Honestly, used to only Woody's girth inside me, the slender penis felt more like a finger but reached where no finger could. My passion exploded again, introducing the young man to my vagina's orgasmic flooding and contractions. His grunts became more intense as he slammed into me harder and faster. Hot semen erupted from my husband, gushing down my throat, and I swallowed all he offered. I felt another orgasm begin clenching my gut when suddenly, warm fluid seeped deep within me from the young man. With body numbing pleasures sweeping through me, I nearly collapsed despite dicks skewering me from both ends as if my body was on a BBQ spit. When our bodies stopped convulsing, Woody pulled me up and held me tight. Completely disregarding the third person's presence, we embraced with a deep soul kiss. I love it that my husband will kiss me with hints of his semen coating my mouth, unafraid of the fluids he puts inside me. His kiss pulled my body against him in a languid hug. Did our affection disturb the young man? Did he regret participating in a sexual act with a married couple? Was he just uncomfortable with the public location? Whatever the cause, our one-time partner dressed and beat a hasty retreat without a word spoken. Still held in Woody's arms, I asked, "What have I done, Woody? How did this happen?" "Babe, we've been married a long time. I am secure with the knowledge that no man can ever take your love from me. We left our hard work and busy lives behind to have a good time here. I want you to experience everything exciting you can imagine. The sex with him happened because I was ready for it to happen. We've talked about this enough. What better time and place to start playing? It worked out that you went first and I have no regrets. Another man just became a sex-toy in your life, a living dildo to please you, to give you mind-blowing orgasms." "What about you, Woody? Do you want to have sex with someone else?" "If the right situation developed, yes, I would be willing to explore that." "I don't know, Woody, I just don't know. Somehow, it doesn't seem to be the same thing. I don't know if I can handle that." "Okay, Babe. You have to be on board with it. We're still going to have fun here. Come on, we have more shopping to do." That's right; I have a husband that wants to go shopping with me; the fact that I was without underwear might have had something to do with his eagerness. I ending up buying two bikinis, the one that inspired the sex and one more appropriate for public beaches. Woody bought a knee-length suit, the kind surfers wear. At the cashiers, as Woody picked up our purchases, he spoke softly to the saleswoman, "Ya know, I don't want to complain but I have to tell you, the changing rooms smell like sex!" I nearly snorted snot out my nose trying to stifle a laugh. "Woody! You're so bad!" Not long after, while we shopped at another store, I felt something wet running down my thigh. When I mentioned it to Woody, he looked to see a pearly glob of semen moving snail-like in plain view toward my knee. After Woody wiped up the man-seed with his finger and flicked it away, I found a ladies' restroom to clean up more thoroughly. Eventually, at another store, we purchased quality (not toy-like) swim fins, masks, and snorkels. * * * Hanauma Bay is snorkeling paradise for amateurs. As a volcanic crater open to the sea, the shallow bay is sheltered from high surf while its coral and rock reefs teem with marine life. The bay is a thirty-minute commuter bus ride from Waikiki and was our first destination after procuring our snorkel equipment. When we arrived, we set out our rattan mats and I pulled my beach cover-up off to reveal my new orange bikini printed with pastel-pink orchids. For hours, we enjoyed exploring the marine world below the surface. I discovered that the bikini top I wore didn't fit me properly after it was wet and several times, it slipped sideways to let my boob and nipple peek out for some sun. Thin and translucent when wet, the material also offered hints of my pubic shadow and clung to my labial cleft. I had exciting fun giving other snorkelers views of a pink-tipped boobie-fish both while swimming and when standing to adjust my mask. Eventually, I asked Woody to adjust the suit's straps behind me. I think he purposely made the situation worse because I never could stay covered after that. Later, I used the bikini malfunction to full advantage, swimming with both breasts hanging uncovered while an experienced snorkeler swam deep below me and looked up. I got so excited playing the peek-a-boob game with him for nearly ten minutes that I slid my bottoms down enough to let him see hair. I only wish he had reciprocated by showing me his cock. Because we stayed about seven hours at the bay, we spent multiple sessions soaking up the tropical sun and applied several layers of sunscreen. Woody used generous quantities of lotion to coat every inch of my skin, even areas not exposed to sunlight. A gentleman spectator wearing dark sunglasses sat about fifteen feet away while watching Woody smear cream all over me. Knowing the man in shades was watching him, Woody exposed my breasts and even pushed his hands between my legs inside my bikini. With my knees up, most bathers saw nothing, but with my pelvis tilted and Woody's hand lifting the material, the voyeur behind us had a good look at my pusstache. When we prepared to leave the bay, I didn't want to wear my wet bikini on the air-conditioned bus, but nearby families made it inappropriate to try changing on the beach. Ducking into a bathhouse on the beach to change solved the dilemma. Since I wore my bikini under my beach cover-up when we arrived at the bay, I had nothing to wear beneath the rather short, dress-like clothing. Gathering our gear into beach bags, I became aware that the spectator was looking down my dress as it hung loosely away from my breasts. Although his glasses were dark and he was facing straight-ahead, the tell was when he leaned over to get a better angle. Knowing he wanted to see my charms, I couldn't disappoint him. When I squatted to roll up my mat, I faced my open legs directly at him. He gave up all pretense of not looking by taking off his sunglasses to stare with a slack-jaw at labia splayed wide and pink inner flesh. With our gear packed, I gave my shocked observer one more money shot. Standing with my back to him, I bent at my waist to pick up a beach bag and my rattan mat. I could feel the air on my exposed vulva and then I peeked under my arm to see him rubbing the bulge in his trunks. I kept the view extending for nearly ten seconds, even beginning to feel excitement lubing up my sex. As we walked away, Woody drew close and spoke. "You are so naughty, Babe! You made that man so horny I think he'll jerk one off right on the beach." "I'm pretty horny now too," I admitted. Climbing to the parking lot and bus stop area, I felt the breeze playing with my cover-up hem and tickling my vulva. Nearing suppertime, many people were leaving at the same time, creating a crowd at the bus stop. Two twenty-something young men sat on a stone wall, both looking me over as we approached. The light-haired one seemed embarrassed by something his dark-haired companion quipped and he looked away. The other one, the one with dark eyes that matched his hair, unabashedly stared at my groin. We took a position only two or three feet in front of them. I could feel breezes again. A strong puff lifted my dress to expose my naked ass to our rear guard, causing their conversation to fall silent. To give them an extra show I bent at my waist to place the things I carried on the ground. Whispered comments suggested they had something to say about me that they were afraid to share. When the bus pulled up, people crowded the door to get on. Packed so tightly, people all around pressed against me. The young guys from the wall made sure they were close behind me and one of them bumped my rump several times. While Woody stopped to pay our fare, I waited one step down but two steps above the guys. Imagining they were near enough to easily see my twat and maybe smell my arousal, I was close to having a touch-less orgasm. All seats were full and the bus driver encouraged people to stand close to accommodate as many passengers as possible. By the time we began moving, several men squeezed around me and I endured constant body contact with all of them. I had placed the things I carried between my legs so I could hold Woody's hand and a seatback for support. Straddling my belongings kept my legs stretched wide until I felt my lips pull open. One of my breasts pressed against Woody's arm, the other against the arm of the young man with the dark eyes. The same arm hung down with the back of his hand touching the soft skin of my inner thigh. Behind me, a hip bumped mine when the bus rocked and something touched my ass. I became aware that the something against my ass was the back of a hand that gently slid back and forth across one cheek. I couldn't turn to see who might be groping me nor could I have stopped it from happening without making a big scene. Woody standing at my side was a good position to intervene if needed, so I felt protected. The anonymous contact was thrilling and I wondered how far it would progress. The hand flipped over, becoming five pressure points lightly holding one cheek through my cover-up. Slowly, they began to rotate, circling around my cheek to trace along the line where it meets my leg. Such a sensual touch started my juices running; I closed my eyes and waited. Up between my cheeks, the unknown hand reached. Then retracing their path, the fingers moved down and around to my hip. Back and forth, they swung; what could only be his right hand appeared limited in reach from the furrow of my ass to my right hip. Suddenly, this brazen hand became even braver, sliding fingers down under my cover-up hem and then back up onto my bare butt. Slowly, the rotation started again, once up the furrow like before. I loved the sensation and started to drip. If my beach bag smelled like pussy, there was a good reason. Another rotation began but the hand surprised me by changing direction, sliding right between my legs, and cramming two fingers into my wide-open vagina. With a gasp, I rose up on my toes. Woody looked down at me with a puzzled brow. Having gained access to my honey pot with no protest from me, the stranger began to wiggle his fingers and slide them in and out of me. Still on my toes, I began to quiver. "What is it, Babe?" Pulling his ear down to me, I whispered between sharp inhales, "Someone is ... finger ... fucking me." "Stop or go?" "Go!" I gasped, starting to lower myself, pushing back against the stranger's hand taking liberties with my body, feeling him pawing my sex like a badger digging a burrow. "Don't fall over," Woody recommended, knowing my inability to stand when I orgasm. He stiffened his arm holding me and I let go of the seatback so I could lean against him. The shift of my body changed how the dark-eyed lad's hand touched my thigh bringing my focus back to him for a moment. Perhaps he simply heard what I said to Woody and felt emboldened enough to move his hand. For whatever reason, his fingertips were between my thighs now, just below the cover-up hem, mere inches from the hand working me over. Such brashness I never imagined! The young man reached up and started rubbing my clit. Our eyes met in a wordless, lusty query. I could barely catch my breath to speak. "Yes," I hissed. My hand that I removed from the seatback now hung at my hip. The bus lurched and a wet bathing suit pressed against my open fingers. It withdrew briefly but returned ... and stayed. I let my fingers subtly explore what I was touching. It didn't take long to know I was caressing a cock. It couldn't belong to the hand that was fingering my cunt so now I had a third partner. Rubbing the cock made it stiffen. I crooked my elbow to raise my hand, a helping hand pulled loose the waistband of his swim trunks, and I lowered my fingers around a very fat cock. His manhood had swelled to steel hardness, the soft skin too taught to move with my thumb and fingers sliding up and down. Like something from a porn movie, I was standing with my husband on a public bus having sex with three strange men, two I couldn't even see. Groping, finger fucking, jilling, frotting, and jerking; all at the same time; who would be next to include me in some other sexual activity? Well, you know if I brought it up, there had to be something else. An old Japanese woman, sitting in the seat I held earlier for support, watched the men pleasure me. For whatever reason she had, the voyeur calmly looked on but gave no hint of emotion. My orgasm was incredible. Did I fall down? Woody told me he ended up holding me upright with two arms, meaning I certainly would have. What did the other partners do? I don't know. I can say I got off the bus later with a handful of semen from the steel hard dick. Did I make enough noise for non-participants around us to know? Only a person who was there can answer that. I wasn't; my mind was floating through heavenly places. My mind and body reunited, forced by our need to exit the bus with all our gear. Exertion and concentration brought reality to my world; reality that declared I was horny as hell. Just as I have found it necessary for satisfaction all my life, I needed a dick inside me to finish the sex. I hurried my husband through the lobby and onto the elevator. On the ride up, I was all over Woody, feeling his lust grow for me, encouraging him with hot slobbery kisses, begging him to fuck me. As we slowed to a stop, I pulled my cover-up off before grabbing belongings in each hand. We walked quickly down the hall to our room, me naked, right past a wide-eyed maid. Woody stripped on the run and we collapsed onto the bed in a lover's embrace. Pele's ancient residence off our shoulders stood sentry while our bodies erupted with human-passion infernos. We fucked hard, fucked long, and fucked until darkness blanketed our bodies. My vagina might have had a recent visitor but Woody was lord and master of my sexual world. We had the hottest, most passionate interlude we enjoyed in recent years and that's not to say we hadn't had wild sex lately; this day was just top-ten caliber. Aroused and inspired by public displays and sexual contact with others, we ignored the passage of time as we made love without stopping for supper. Our final sixty-nine session lasted over thirty minutes until Woody pumped his final reserve into my loving mouth. I fell asleep on top of him, his glans resting against my lips, my pussy leaking his earlier love serum deposit out onto his chest. * * * Hunger forced us to seek a meal at ten o'clock. Dressing simply, me in a sundress sans underwear, Woody commando in athletic shorts and T-shirt, we took sustenance and libations in the hotel bar. Strawberry Daiquiris, five to be exact, had me floating in numbness but filled with desires to have a cock pounding into me. I would have to be patient, I knew, because Tarzan needed rest. Walking out into the garden terrace well after midnight, I was eager to use the whirlpool. So was Woody, but he wanted to go to our room to get our suits first. I didn't want to waste the time or my buzz so I suggested going naked. We could always wear our clothes in the whirlpool if decency demanded. Woody was there to have fun as he proclaimed, so he joined my adventure. Approaching the whirlpool, despite the lights being off, we could see an elderly gentleman in the water. I almost turned away but decided someone seeing me naked would not be a deterrent. When we got close enough, I recognized the man as Bill whom I had flashed at the buffet the day before. After exchanging greetings, I told him, "Bill, we came to sit in the whirlpool but don't have our suits. You won't mind if we get in naked, will you?" "The scenery can be quite beautiful at night too," he remarked, his way of saying he'd love to see me naked but I was lifting my sundress off even before he spoke. I stood nude for him to admire while Woody shed his clothes. Little woodie looked exhausted, turtled-up for the night in all likelihood. Together we climbed into the whirlpool and I sat next to Bill with my hubby easing in on the other side of me. Big Woody was exhausted too, evident when he stretched out low to get his shoulders under the surface and closed his eyes. Chatting with Bill, I sat upright to keep my breasts above the water. Bill would only look at them when I looked away, too much of a gentleman to feast his eyes when I faced him. After spending several minutes in a catch-him-looking game, I said, "Bill? Do you think I have nice breasts?" "Oh, they are lovely, dear." "Then I don't want you to be too shy to look at them. I came to Hawaii to have fun and that means show my boobs to people. I want you to have fun by looking, all you want." He smiled and looked longingly at my chest. I felt the familiar tingle that meant my nipples were stretching out for him. I reached under water and found his hand. Pulling it up, I placed it on my breast. Fingers with gnarly joints like oak limbs proved to be soft and gentle. Hawaiian Loving "Kiss them, Bill," I whispered. He did and I felt the need for passion stir in my belly. When he sat back, I leaned over him, placing my naked breasts against his chest; my lips covered his and we shared a long, sweet kiss. In his ear I whispered, "I think you need to enjoy this night the way I like to do, totally free. You should get naked with me." "I couldn't do that, I'm too shy," he offered but his glance at Woody suggested my husband's presence was the real inhibiting factor. Inspiration struck me. "Woody? Bill is afraid someone will see us. Will you stand guard by the gate?" Woody slowly stirred and climbed out of the pool. After pulling on his shorts, he turned to leave. Pausing before disappearing behind the rocks, he advised, "Bill, sometimes the starting pitcher runs out of gas and a veteran from the bullpen has to finish the game. Babe? Any kind," he emphasized, confirming the freedom I had in choosing my sexual-options. Shortly, we heard the scrape of metal chair legs on stone as Woody got comfortable some distance away and out of sight. I stood up facing Bill, fully exposed with my pussy breaching the surface, I held out my hand until he gave me his. With a tug from me encouraging him, he stood up too. I stooped to untie his drawstring then slid his suit below the water. His cock was a fireplug, short but incredibly fat. I thought about sucking him but I feared he would go off too easy or be unwilling to kiss me afterward. I wanted to have tender, romantic sex with him so I acted accordingly. I guided him back into a sitting position and swung onto his lap from the side so I could hang an arm around his shoulders. Bill let out a groan as my soft bare ass settled on him, his cock poking up between my legs. I laid my head on his shoulder and cooed, "Bill, tell me something about your life." He told me stories about coming to Hawaii often since being there at Pearl as a young man in the Navy. We started kissing, just as I desired. He was a fantastic kisser, nice firm lips, energetic tongue, and delicate lip excursions to my neck and shoulders. His hands hungrily explored my body and easily stirred the fires of my passion. We spent close to twenty minutes cuddling and caressing until I could wait no longer. I moved off his lap, stood in front of him, and backed my ass over his hard cock. His manhood was so fat I had to work him in slowly, akin to sitting on a beer can except he had a conical glans to help pry me open. Eventually, Bill was inside me, stretching my vagina beyond known experiences. I sighed heavily and sat quietly a moment. Bill's hands cupped my breasts and played with my nipples while my fingers twiddled his balls. Rocking forward and back, my vagina began to slide up and down his plug. His fatness worked my G-spot to perfection until my orgasm boiled out from my belly, engulfing my whole body with muscle tightening convulsions. Bouncing on him, my body was making waves in the pool, my breasts splashing against the surface. Still riding the elderly Clydesdale of a man, he began thrusting up into me with powerful drives. "Oh Bill, Bill! This feels so good. C'mon, honey, give me all you got!" He started to grunt and the force of his cock plowing into me made me squirm. I started to cum again. With rapture swallowing my consciousness, I moaned and pleaded, "Fuck me, ooh, fuck me, yes, yes, yes..." Bill stiffened and raised his hips. "Oh, my God!" he cried and a huge blast of sperm shot out of the semen-hydrant buried in my womb. I held on, feeling spurt after spurt flooding my sex until we slowed to a stop. Tenderly, he held me, stroking his fingers through my hair, dabbing kisses on my lips and cheeks. I heard him sniff. Opening my eyes, I saw tears spilling from his eyes on down his cheeks. Was he regretting our passion? "Bill, don't cry. Everything is all right. I wanted and truly enjoyed this special moment with you here in paradise." "These aren't tears of sadness but of joy. You gave me something wonderful. I can't fathom the generosity of you and your husband but I will remember this night for the rest of my life." "Me too," I responded and kissed him long and tender. We stood up. Bill stopped to pull up his suit while I climbed out to put on my sundress. Walking with his arm around my waist, we found our guard sleeping on the job. I roused my dozing husband and we headed for our rooms. Lying on our bed, the balcony doors open to a tropical breeze, I reviewed the remarkable day I had. If the rest of our vacation was anything like the first day, I might never want to leave. Sun, water, passion, love. I had it all, plenty of lovin' and weeks of summer in the middle of January. "Woody?" "Yeah, Babe." "We need to find you a good-time partner too. This open sexuality is wonderful." "I'm glad you enjoyed it." "I love you, Darlin'." "I love you, too, Sweetheart." Spooning with my husband, the slumbering shadow of Diamond Head disappeared behind my heavy eyelids.