4 comments/ 33657 views/ 3 favorites The Best Cums in Thirds By: Bardvark * * * * THE BEST CUMS IN THIRDS ... An unexpected ménage in Miami * * * * AUTHORS NOTE This is fictional, but one I would like to have been real. It is about wife sharing, so if you are not into this do not read it. As always, courageous and constructive criticism is appreciated. Thanks, ~Bardvark BOONDOGGLE My work responsibilities required periodic refreshes to my industry relationship network and in order to make the best use of efforts in this area I would hit one or two industry conferences where a concentration of peers would be present. This year I scored approval to attend a conference that had moved to Miami from it is traditional home in Atlanta. Schemer that I am, I made sure that my wife of 11 years, Lynette, would attend. I managed to arrange for a suite in South Beach and abandoned the droll inland hotel hosting the conference. STEVE Steve is my best friend worked for the same company in the same role as mine (we had developed the friendship "backing each other up"). We were a successful team working together and that friendship had extended to my wife as the result of introductions at the company holiday party two years before. There they discovered a mutual for news, events and people they could debate with on ranging topics. Steve knew a good idea when he saw it and thus booked at the South Beach hotel. I personally paid extra above what the company allotted to reserve the honeymoon suite. It was a charmer and I did not tell Lynette about it ahead of time and was a great surprise to her when we arrived. It got me laid within 30 minutes of checking in so I clearly played a good hand on that one. Steve did not have one girlfriend, but a half-dozen or so and none he wanted to bring so he was flying solo on this trip. Probably getting tired of masturbating too since he did not have a ready vagina to play with. To me, Steve is an exceptional person with values compelling trust and reliability, while retaining wildness for adventure. At 26, he is about 5 years younger than Lynette and I and has been single since we met. His friendship with Lynette developed because of their mutual addiction current events, news and lively discussion debating various points of view around them. A graduate of MIT, he has an exceptional intellect that can show in his smart-ass smile and teasing eyes. He is lightly haired and wiry in build with a Mediterranean complexion. He ran track in high school in addition to swimming long distances on the school team. His build was that of a track runner, with shoulders filled in from swimming. He had a dry wit, somewhere between Jonny Carson's and . LYNETTE My wife was true blond through her twenties, though her hair began to darken some when we reached the early thirties. She was presently 33 and I was 32. Her body hair is pretty much non-existent except for what's under her arms and covering her pussy. Even that is pretty thin and wispy, but I have actually not seen much of it since she has always kept her lips nicely waxed. Her little patch on her mons is the only hint I have ever had of what the rest might be like. I do not miss it though since the naked look is just my cup of tea. Her eyes are a unique in color, a kind of a slivery green in my opinion. She has railed on me when I commented they were almost blue since they have shades of it, but I have determined it is in my best interest to agree with her on such things. Lynette has narrow hips, which contribute to the nice little butt she has. Her buns are tight, taught and toned from her days as a sprinter. Overall, she is very lean. Her abs are ripped and her navel is a charmer. As if I invented tits, hers are large, full and nicely rounded. Her nipples are literally out-standing, meaning it is hard to keep 'em down. With minor stimulation, they go erect and I tend to think of them as my private pencil erasers. As a final point, Lynette is over educated. She's earned undergrad degrees in micro-biology and fine arts (sculpture), done genetic research at the University of Cape Town (puffer fish toxins) and has a MBA from Wharton. That is where we met when my advising professor introduced us. (stay tuned for another story of my advising professor seducing me after I graduated -- yes, she is a woman!) The point is Lynette likes intellectual play. She is a dangerous poker, cribbage, bridge and player of any game. Cut to South Beach........... FANTASY "Shall we play to your fantasy or mine?" I asked. "Hmmm, you tell yours. They are so real the way you draw all senses into play. I can nearly taste, hear and smell in them. It makes the touchy-feely you give sooo delicious," Lynette replied, arousing voice. She sat opposite me on the bed of our South Beach suite, where we had been living large since our arrival two days earlier. The warm evening air blended with the misted peach light following a spectacular sunset. It was a perfect backdrop for lovemaking. Neither of us had a stitch of clothing on, which was just the way I liked Lynette. Our eyes joined and I enjoyed seeing her flushed cheeks matched the palette of light from outside. It accentuated the fine lines of her delicate nose, strong chin and inviting lips. They were as rosy pink as were her standing nipples crowning her full breasts. Ok I said, "I will give you a good one. Do you have any special requests?" Holding contact with my eyes and taking my two hands into hers she replied, "I would enjoy including Steve. He is here in the flesh so to speak so I have plenty of mental snapshots to help make it real and fun. Just remember you horny bastard that this is only a fantasy. I do not want you getting any funny ideas. I'm not interested in making our fantasies real." Ha ha, I laughed, "I already planned that. You know I understand you love the conversations you have with him." Besides, I added, "he's good looking and with that wiry build that shows good muscle definition. I bet you masturbate to it already and are too coy to fess up to the truth. I saw 'ya looking him over at the beach I did." "You don't miss anything do you?" Lynette replied. "Well Steve, shares some of your more endearing qualities, like an amazing body, but thinking of the differences is interesting. Besides, he is an intellectual comrade that I enjoy being around, but do not think that makes him competition. You own all of my love." "I bet Steve wouldn't miss a beat to get into your pants if he'd ever met you as a single", I said. Lynette looked held her gaze on me, saying, "Now why do I think that's the start of your fantasy?" "Gee, I don't know honey buns", I shot back. "Anything that contributes to your pleasure is implicitly good. If it heightens your pleasure, then I will make it happen." With that, we took a long, tall, cool pull from our pear mojitos and replaced the dryness with a cold minty taste. It was a sharp contrast to the warm tropical air heat of anticipation. Putting our drinks down, we savored the taste and effects of these second drinks. We had had just enough alcohol to get giddy and take the edge off our inhibitions. Lynette playfully wiggled her tits at me, pinched her nipples and leaned over to place a minty wet kiss smack on my ready lips. I wasted no time in challenging her with a duel of tongues while raising my hands to encircle her ample breasts and gently roll her erect nipples between thumb and finger. Then sneaking a pinch, Lynette laughed saying, "Ah, you got me!" I quickly made my second move and nipped her ear lobe after kissing her neck, which caused Lynette to shudder involuntarily with neck tingles. Playfully slapping my ass, Lynette sputtered with another half sip of mojito in her mouth, "God, you're all over me! This better last you haven't given me a story yet!" "Oh, but I've hinted enough to get wet you I see!" Love that nectar, yes I do. Always I am diligent to keep a close eye out for it and enjoy a good panty sniff given the opportunity. Damn good thing she issues honey abundantly on demand. I continued, saying, "Well then, let me tell you of a conversation I had with Steve after you retired from the beach to shower yesterday afternoon" I said; thinking to myself she wouldn't know the conversation had never taken place. "As you left, we both watched you walk away, all the while admiring the contraction and release of your buns while you sashayed up the beach to our suite." "In my point of view, it was spectacular. After our swims, I had seen him sneaking longing looks at your tits, nips and pussy cleft. His reaction was no different than mine." After you disappeared our talk centered on you. "Steve started with a surprising comment. Mojitos you know. Anyway, he recounted a dream he had after we had him to dinner last month. You may remember us hot-tubbing nude. Well, I think he was more than a little impressed with your features. He said he had never met or even closely experienced anyone who turned him on more. He admitted masturbating before falling asleep that night and later in the morning had an amazing dream." At this point, I had Lynette lay down close her eyes and focus her imagination on mental images she already had of him. They would help her visualize Steve playing out the story. I also needed to arrange her for ministrations to match the story. Keeping it moving, I said to her, "It's no surprise that his dream originated from that night. I persuaded him to tell me about the dream. He did in detail and here's what he told." "Hmmm", she intoned as she leaned back and closed her eyes. Then, speaking from my voice I recounted Steve's dream as if I were narrating it from where I had sat next to him in the tub. ... "Remember, we were all dizzy with wine and it occurred to me that it might have lifted some inhibitions among us. Sure enough, he made a casual comment about having a crush on you but I don't think it was so casual." I said. Taking her back to that night, I said, and "Remember how you were sitting on one side of the tub while he and I were on the other? I reached down for your right foot and started the foot massage you like so much. I wanted to get you worked up so planned to give you a run-my-fingers-between-your-toes version. You've said you like because it mimics penetration." "In his dream he watched me do this and thinking little of it, reached for your other foot and started massaging as I was." I continued. "Argh!" Lynette said. "That's sexy! I can feel both feet getting it!" Of course, I was doing the same to her, there on the bed. The only difference was that I could only work one foot at a time with my two hands. Another difference was I had applied her favorite "Skinny Dip Hemp Seed Glow Oil" for this massage. My alternate plan was to mimic everything that occurred as it played out in the fantasy story of Steve's dream. Therefore, I went on, "You weren't aware that while held your feet up, your pussy rose to the surface from the added lift of bubbles. Spying your treasure, Steve took in the wonderful sights in but was conflicted trying to sort out if it was a mistake or there was some other purpose in play." He he. "I could see Steve's erection-reaction under cover of bubbles. The intimate touching as he massaged your foot combined with the great view of your pouting pussy to call his organ forth. " "We then I moved our massage to your calves and worked them in close time." "Eventually we them moved up to your thighs. He knew this was a critical juncture since the next advance would take us to your pussy." "From what I remember, you showed enjoyment on your face, but said nothing behind closed eyes. We I saw that as approval to press on, so to speak." In front of me, Lynette's eyes remained closed and her left hand had risen to deliver rhythmic nipple pinches and massage to her right breast. Her right middle was drawing light, tight but measured races starting at her moist opening, and pressing her inner labia. She lightly slid it up to her the hood of her clitoris on a slick of nectar. Rolling over her erect, crimson hood to the left side and moving back to the opening only to insert a half-digit to harvest more of her juices. Between her thighs, her sex glistened with honey. She is enjoying this one, I thought to myself. Continuing, I said to Lynette, "In his dream, Steve said he your thighs were the highway to your sex. He described your clitoris as it broke the surface and stood stiffly like a dorsal." "He was terrified of going out of bounds by touching your most private part without permission." "However Steve didn't miss it when I touched my index finger to your pussy finding yours already there. As soon as he saw my move, he followed like a puppy." Steve actually ventured further and faster than I could believe by placing his finger into a gap between your love canal lips, giving a press and claiming your spongy g-sport as his. I figured it was fine since we had your clit occupied. "Oooooh", you croon as Steve continues with his manipulation of your spongy hot spot. In response you have kindly spread your legs as if quite pleased to invite more pleasure from him." As I continue the story telling to Lynette, I have been doing all of the things described as best as possible with two hands and one tongue. Including orbiting her clit and spongy g-spot as well as treating her to an occasional nipple pinch. I say to her, "I'm frozen watching Steve move his head towards your hairless sex, and he being our guest, I give a nod of approval to go for it." "And you; you are getting vocal with arousal, obviously enjoying him, which motivated him to get more ambitious. Your eyes met mine for assurance and I return a wry smile while mouthing "for you my love."" With this, I lower my mouth to Lynette's wet sex and begin moving my tongue in a circular motion, keeping the fantasy real behind her closed eyes. "Steve has a full-face press into your pussy now, lapping your sex and moving his nose left and right on your clit with your legs draped over his shoulders. His tongue pushes into you eliciting a gasp and you appear to be getting closer with each successive press by calling out, "aah ... ooh!" Encouragingly, I continue, "water has started splashing from the tub from your thrashing in time with his motions. I can see Steve is working hard to stay on target with all of this motion. Your clamped legs are working wonders to keep him on the job ... keeping his face pressed to your pussy and wonder how he's managing to breathe." "Your breath is short, taken in shallowly and held tightly for longer than I would have thought possible. With curling toes, you look ready to burst into orgasm." "Steve adds another finger, stretching your sex, adding just a bit more pressure to your g-spot and god, but you break loose with a howl..."Steve! ... aiyeeeehaa". Your abs go washboard as a sharp orgasm rips through you. A couple three convulsions wash through and I see poor Steve's head waging under and out of the tub water... how the devil is he managing to breathe?! With breath sputtering, he is heroically holding his full mouth to your pussy. Just don't kill him I think." In the privacy of our room, Lynette's scream has fled the room, running down and along the South Beach strand below. Proudly I can visualize the pedestrians smiling at having audibly voyeured our moment of fun. ----------- Lynette and I make passionate love following this fantasy. She is buoyant, quite wet and a playful lover riding on a high of endorphins and dopamine released by her moment of ecstasy. In a room below, I wonder if Steve might have heard Lynette and recognized her voice calling his name as she came. I hope he did and privately laughed. Lynette might be pleased if she knew he was unknowingly the prime contributor to our private sex party. RISE TO AN EPIC DAY Three raps on the door pull Lynette from the warmth of our bed. Pulling on a robe and loosely tying it around herself, Lynette opens the door to Steve's damned sunny demeanor with half a tit spilling out for his pleasure. "Good morning Steve! Troy is running about 5 minutes late. But come in and help us with this breakfast." She says uncharacteristically at this hour of the morning (remember we are on Seattle time where time here is 3 hours earlier there). My god thinks Steve. How could anyone look so sexy in the morning? How am I going to keep my eyes in their sockets and dick in my pants for another day at the beach? God, look at her breasts! Ah, I want to die. That fucking lucky bastard has all the sucking rights and I am left to pound dry meat. It is just not fair. Steve replies, "Hey, I would appreciate something to eat. I grabbed a quick coffee thinking Troy would be ahead of the game as usual. I'm glad for a chance to plant myself for a few more minutes." Breaking silence while sliding a bite of eggs down, Steve volunteered, "I went out to a hot salsa club last night and never did eat since the dancing was so fun. I got back to the hotel late and forgot to put out the breakfast order last night. Thanks for saving me. I seriously need some fuel," he went on. "I thought I heard you two talking last night, but it turned out to be someone else. This woman had a voice just a pitch above yours. It sounded like she was having a good time." Continuing, Steve said, "Anyway, I hope you and Steve had a great evening. Since Steve's not here I will just add that I would find it hard not to have a good time if I had a babe like you." Lynette thought to herself, I wonder if that slipped out by accident. Steve is usually so under stated. He must be suffering from a make buildup problem. Damn, but I need to find him a good woman to release his tension. She was typically unaware of her nip slip and Steve's observant gaze on it. Steve looked up from the fruit bowl Lynnette had filled for him and saw an odd look on her face. It looked like a wry warning smile. Hmm he thought I would give a nickel to hear her private thoughts, and my cherry to experience them. With her flush, I bet she is having a happy thought, a spicy babe like these local Cubanos I danced Salsa with last night, yes indeed. Steve smiled engagingly at Lynette, saying, "Hey, you and Troy would really like a club I found last night. Local musicians and friends converge to jam Samba and Salsa tunes. Wives, daughters and local hotties come to dance and recreate old Cuba before Castro. Just like back in the Hemmingway days. Come and we can dance to great music. Troy is good enough to play and might borrow a guitar to play with them. " Going on, Steve gives Lynette some guidance, "to be honest, you might be taken aback by the way they dress and dance. Both are downright risqué, which is just fine with me but it might make your uncomfortable. They reveal flesh and what is not covered is, well, so tight to their flesh they might as well be naked. Be prepared to move your assets in ways you wouldn't at home." "Woo hoo", Lynette replied, "I would like a night to cut loose and experience this legendary Cuban nightlife. Let's go! Troy and I were planning to go dancing. Now we can do both! How about we head there after beach time and have dinner before the music starts?" Laughing, Steve responded, "You should know ahead of time that if you don't want to stand out plan on dressing like the Cubano babes. They wear colorful, thin and even risqué outfits. And it doesn't look like they wear much under them either." Having finished getting ready for the obligatory conference showing, I hear this last statement and ask, "What are you two cooking up?" Lynette updates me on plans for this evening and then sends us off with a quick kiss, saying, "I'm going shopping to find something those hot Cubanos wear. I would like to fit in so we can freely experience their fun. I will be back by noon and meet you on the beach if you get back sooner." The Best Cums in Thirds BEACH TIME! Steve and I returned to the hotel by mid-morning. It is already in the mid-80's and the beach is calling. I change and scramble around the suite grabbing up beach chairs, towels, cooler to hold our staple of pre-mixed mojitos. Steve is waiting and ready so we bolt immediately for the sunny surf. We could see people populating the beach so hustled to get the right spot for primo body surfing on the incoming tide. We found our spot and settled in for yet another day in paradise. Immediately launching into a dash for the water, splashing wildly, we dove through the incoming wave and swam strongly for the break. As a former swimmer, I loved the feel of the warm, buoyant salt. Steve had been a competitive swimmer in high school so had no trouble keeping up. Out that far without boards, the surfers looked at as though we were sea creatures that did not belong there. No matter, they would think differently once they saw us work the waves. We both wore special goggles and shorty fins to deliver the thrust needed to drive over a wave's crest. Our strong legs helped too just as they helped us with the other kind of thrusting. After blowing out the pent up energy from the conference routine, we kicked back and refreshed with our mojito's for what promised to be an epic day. We had no indication the promise for an epic day would turn into an epic night. An hour later we turned to a familiar voice calling out, "hey you studs, would you turn away a lady with affections and confections?" What we saw coming towards us, bare foot through white sand was nearly as naked as her feet. Lynette was wearing a mouth dropping swishy see through chartreuse wrap over South Beach bit of string called a swimsuit. The threads with patches over nipples and pussy did little good hiding her equipment. Poor Steve, I thought to myself. He had no lover to release his tension. This was going to be a demanding day. Clear on his face was recognition of this fact. Oh well, like any survivor he probably had well developed self-satisfaction skills. Lynette shed her wrap and with a flourish and pirouette to display her wares, tossing it to her waiting chair, saying, "You wanted me to look local! As you, command my master. What do you think?" Oh, I replied, "I thought it was makeup you were wearing, but now I see it's actually fabric." With a chuckle, I continued, "You look stunning my love. See Steve drool?" "Lynette, this is just plain insensitive and unfair," replied Steve. "If I paid you the complement I want, you would think me a cad. Oh. I am a cad. So then, I would like to pull those threads by my teeth and eat you." At that, Lynette grinned and winked at Steve saying, "thank you, I'm sure you would find me delicious. But I warn you, keep it safe." Then she added, "You need a girlfriend to help with your tension and I may be able to help. Maybe we can talk about that later." With that, I handed her a fresh mojito and tanning oil. After taking a long tall pull, she proceeded to apply it lavishly across ass cheeks and between her thighs. I wondered if Steve could see the depression of her love cleft as well as I could. No doubt, he could since my chair was between them giving him a more opposing view. Geez I thought. I love this, but pity him. Over the afternoon, we finished our third mojitos and swam our butts off. A stray thought hit me and I had a good laugh, then after oiling my hands, picked up Lynette's left foot and began massaging it. Turning to Steve, I said, "Hey you do the other one and just follow my lead." Lynette looked me hard in the eyes and I thought she might kick sand in my eyes, but instead laughed and said to me, "you bastard!" Then, relaxing into her chair closed her eyes and let the warm sun do its magic. Her enjoyment came out as an occasional, "oooh". Though we teased her with the finger between toes trick, though I wanted to, we did not take it up her legs. However, her suit was wet and pressed to her flesh showing more pronounced pussy cleft and nipple definition. Damn, it was positively hilarious, and I found myself with a good solid boner watching it play out. Steve was also sporting a stiffy and I knew what he would be doing with it his hands later that night. At 3:30, Lynette spoke up, saying, "I need to shower and primp for this evening." Challenging him, she asked, "Steve, could you show me what the dances were like so I can think the moves through?" He laughed and said, "No not here. You will have no problems though. The moves are the same as having sex and Steve tells me you have mastered those just fine." After Lynette went up to the suite, we both dozed off from the effects of three mojitos. Apparently, Lynette also stole a short nap wanting to make sure she was primed to have fun all night. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK Around six, three sharp knocked at the door: "da daa da dat dat" in singsong form. Lynette hopped up before I could, and reaching the door swung it open with a flourish that reminded me of her wrap flying off earlier today. Enthusiastically, Lynette said, "Hi Steve! Perfect timing!" Her arms reached forward to take him by the shoulders. Pulling Steve to her breasts, she planted her juicy lips solidly on his, opened her mouth and thrust her tongue in. Three swipes later, she parted and I thought she seemed loose enough to take in a real adventure. I instantly saw the effect of that kiss on her. Lynette's nipples were at attention. I had to agree that a bra would have ruined the look of her top on any woman with her endowments. Steve and I would be treated to her nice tits all evening. Lynette purchased her outfit in small Cuban owned boutique. It was perfect for the evening we had planned. With just enough elasticity, it moved with her body permitting unrestrained dancing. The snug fit pressed against her naked flesh with a silky lightness. She chose a traditional Salsa layered Pico mini skirt. One designed to be worn low and tight around the waist while flowing loosely around thighs with a wild uneven hem. The slightest flip and the red skirt would hide nothing. It seemed the color was intentional ... a hot red dress following the cliché that it would be a hot night. On top, she wore what a convertible halter top/wrap since it could be worn either way. Two stings held it up around the nape of her neck, and attached to ends that crossed her chest to show cleavage and allow her breasts to float unrestrained. The wrap crossed around the small of her back and tied in the front. It had a wild pattern of colorful leopard spots with fills of opaque pinks, yellows and white. Lynette has ripped abs showed nicely and the skirt, riding about 2 inches above her pussy it was genuinely enticing. I asked to feel the fabric that looked so unique, not expecting this blatant ploy to grope to fool anyone. Ha ha on her, I turned to Steve and said, "Check this out. It's amazing!" "See? I can play this taunting game too!" I thought to myself. Steve reached his hand onto her ass, and giving it a brush, said laughingly, "No VPL? Oh, are you wearing a thong or going combat?" "Ha ha you lustful bastard, I will have you know it's a red thong to match my skirt and you will never see the best of it!" Lynette shot back. "Oh, how I'm called on to suffer in this pitiful life of mine! Destined to forever having only a meager glimpse and my imagination to play with," moaned Steve. At his quip about the thong, I was tempted to tell him the top was a different fabric and we should try it too. Alas, I thought it might be a bit early for such playa. We would settle for a bun-rub. Oops, I suddenly realized we still had a bun of hers in our hands. Lynette leaned to each of us, removing and taking our hands into each of hers, and delivered a light kiss each while whispering "thank you" first to Steve and then to me. "That felt good." We each looked ready to go so I said, "drink up, the world awaits us!" and we left for the club in high spirits. SALSA! Arriving the club late was not a problem. However, we were relieved to get there after the thrilling cab ride through pocked streets and a driver named Julio that did not know the word "moderato." He had taken some enjoyment seeing Lynette falling alternatingly in Steve's and my lap as he cornered turns at speed. It was impossible to prevent close contact in the narrow back of the mid-size Toyota with a Latino wild man at the wheel. Giggling, Lynette was unrestrained using our thighs and hands to stabilize herself though she could do little about controlling her bouncy breasts as we hit ruts in the road. Steve and I got a good handful of her, and she of us. Lynette got a surprise when she saw that Steve and I also found men's Salsa attire. The attire consisted of a vest worn open with nothing beneath and tight black pants. She was very complementary saying, among other things, "my but you two are hard body hotties and I get to have you as a double date! What will I do to keep my hands off you and keep the competition at bay!" The swimming and track background showed off nicely as ripped abs, tight pecs and full shoulders. As she said, they were real and looked it. Not the gym manufactured kind at all. Adding to the look and feel, we both wore our own distinctive musky colognes based on sandalwood but spicy in different ways. Mine was given as a gift from Lynette so I knew it would work the desired magic. Steve had a cinnamon and clove mix that seemed to have the same appeal. I noticed Lynette inhaling generously when she had swayed into Steve's lap during the cab ride. We ordered a mojito to start and bottle of wine to accompany our meal. Dinner flew by, and soon the initial nervousness among us gave way in the face of alcohol and disarming discussions. Our animation augmented a lot of touching; arms, thighs, little cheek kisses and more and it was obvious that touching rather than talking was the social norm for this gathering. Just after we finished our meals, the musicians opened up with Tito Puente's "Ran Kan Kan", timbales and all. Lynette took Steve by the hand, tore him from his seat and winked at me as she sashayed her swinging hips to the dance floor. From this moment forward, the dancing was a whirlwind of increasingly physical and suggestive movements punctuated by slow, fast, dancing as pairs and a trio. My catalog of mental images includes a series of moves Lynette put on Steve as he stood in front of her. With her hands raised and clasped behind her head looking down her shoulder she ground a hip rotation in opposing direction as her chest and head. Her breasts were full and moving in their own double tempo swing. Oh, how I loved this woman's woman. She had to be Aphrodite's progeny. By this time, we had all had a good fill of dancing and groping. The freedom Lynnette had shown with Steve surprised me since she had emphasized that fantasies were not to become realities. I wondered if she had been saying that for me while secretly toying with the notion. If the way they danced was any indication, she had some secrets. Well, so did I and I want to see her get a good fucking from a good man that she wanted? To me, this was the ultimate act of love and giving in the name of love. I knew our relationship was solid, and that she had experienced passions that she might want to have again. If that were something she wanted then I, loving her unconditionally, would allow it or even aid it. Steve would be the perfect candidate given our long friendship, but the choice was still hers to make and not mine. The dance was a slow one taken by Lynnette and Steve. Had I not been her husband, I would have thought they were lovers. Their moves were affectionate and sensitive revealing both mental and physically connection between them. Unafraid of close contact, they ground pelvises and their hands moved freely; Steve massaging her ass cheeks and she his bare back under the Salsa vest he wore. There were kisses too. His focused on the nape of her neck while his hands reached into her full head of hair at the back of her head. They looked very aroused. I could not quite believe it but we seemed to be going somewhere unexpected. When the song finished they returned to the table and we all nodded in agreement that it was time to get our way. The door attendant waved a cab and off we went. SALSA GETS SALTY Without mixing words, the cab ride degenerated into a groping session. This was little different from the cab ride to the club except that we were loose with alcohol and much more comfortable with touching. Lynette seemed to abandon pretense as she sought support by pressing her hand to our cocks instead of thighs as she did on the ride to the club. We returned favors and freely plied her sparsely covered body. It was a hilarious, raucous drive and when we arrived at the hotel Lynette said she wanted to cool off in the ocean. We paid and promptly spilled out of the car and turned towards the hotel to go change. Sassy woman that she is, Lynette quickly said, "Where do you guys think you're going. Let us go! I will race you!" Oh god, we were going straight to the beach! Either this was swimming in clothes or a skinny dip and I figured was the latter! "Wow, that would be fun", we chimed in unison. Lynette had a good lead as we raced towards the water. Steve and I struggled to undue our pants while Lynette had no trouble removing her top. Indirect lights showed her bare breasts as they swung to the sides of her narrow back. As Lynette's hands started to draw her skirt down, we heard a sudden "aargh" from Steve on my left. I looked as did Lynette and saw him tumble and sprawl to the sand. He had settled with pants and boxers around his knees looking up at the stars. Impossible to miss was his thick uncircumcised penis. "Cool I thought to myself. Wish I was uncircumcised," Lynette gave a hoot and then laughed uncontrollably while striping her skirt down. In a blink, she turned and splashed into the water. After her I shouted, "Hey, what happened to the thong?" There had not been one under her skirt and I could not remember her removing it. Where it was or went was a mystery to me. Damn, was she combat on the cab ride? Maybe it was already gone during that last slow dance with Steve. Well, that is what South Beach and Salsa can do when three sex hungry friends get together. In a fit of laughter, she called after my shout, "gotcha!" In the water, we joined as a threesome in a groping hug. She had a hand on each of our cocks, which were responding as expected. Steve unabashedly handled her tits while I went for the goods: ass and pussy. Lynette was alternating kisses between us when she pulled back and said, "Ok gang, enough of this; let's go for a post function in our suite. I'm thirsty!" Our sprint to the room was hilarious. We ran through the nearly empty lobby covering our privates with wads of clothes. It seemed a waste of time to try to fight clothes on over our wetness and jointly figured a sprint was the better option. The elevator ride was short but we came together get until the door opened to break our kissing. Having finally gotten the key through the door and we fell inward in a tangled heap. Would the laughter ever stop I wondered. The lobby sprint had us doubled over in laughter. Lynette then took us each by a hand and pulled us up. Wrapping her arms around our waists, she led us to the bedroom. Holy shit, this was...wow! Was this amazing what! That was it; I almost dropped a load right then and there. I kept thinking, we are headed directly to a ménage a' trois. I wanted this. It was incredibly exciting and I was shaking with how fantastic it seemed. She obviously felt just trusting as well as horny. "Let's get to it!" I thought to myself. Lynette flopped down in the middle of the bed. Steve got in to her left and I to the right. She was drawn up into a sitting position where her tits pressed to the sides and her pussy just hide in the dark below her knees. She was smiling broadly and said to us, "I desperately need something on my skin before the salt water dries it all out. Could you please help me? Moreover, could you start with my feet? So there it was, a four handed massage!" FEELING FOUR HANDS I took up her favorite hemp seed glow oil, palmed a generous portion and tossed the bottle to Steve on Lynette's left. Steve followed suit as Lynette settled down laying herself stomach down between me and Steve -- her lovers. We to took up her feet while sitting astride her calve. To fit us both in this position Lynette gently separated her legs and treated us to a little wink from between her pussy lips. It looked warm, moist and fresh from our swim. Starting with the pads of her feet Steve and I pushed and pulled our fingers between her toes. Yep, the trick she had told me about from some former lover that felt like penetration. Lynette moaned her satisfaction and we did not delay moving to her calves. With her legs still apart, the foot stimulation was having obvious effects on her sex. It had become moist against her smooth waxed lips, which were visibly pink and swollen. Her vagina opening was winking and her inner labias were partially exposed. Gravity held her hood open and we could just imagine her clit hiding in there. The pace, the sight of her tush and our concentration on massage entranced us all. Our work slowed for a time until she gave us a little wiggle and told us to get to work. We moved to Lynette's thighs and senses became hyper-acute. We could hear the world outside spilling into our room. Moist air enveloped us with the aroma of the sea, our bodies and the massage oil. Glowing light from reflections of the moon off the sea combined with neon deco from below to form a mystical aura around us. The sounds wove a tapestry from which we inhaled to capture lest it be lost. Calypso, salsa and Jimmy Buffet mixed into our open air with scents of spicy cooking from earlier meals. It melded us into one. At once alone with our senses yet together in one consciousness of shared experience. We were all intoxicated with what we were sensing and experiencing. Lynette humming intonated inner sounds of pleasure while Steve and I worked her thighs in rhythm. We stroked up the inner thigh and then down the outside. Our fingers met at the bottom of her clit. Then, together we pressed her labias upwards on opposing sides to move her hood against her clitoris. I longed to touch her inside, to feel her warm moist love. In contrast to the earlier dancing energy and the sexually tensioned laughs, these moments stood still in time. With equal energy, they were smooth and silky instead of frenetic and anxious. Our urgent needs and restraint were wearing thin. Animal instincts refined our movements into exquisite expressions of seduction and desire. Our body musk mixed with each successive movement. So potent is it that Lynette begins slowly contracting her hips, driving her pelvis slowly into the bed. Below we can hear the sounds laughter and voices from happy revelers drift in, adding their essence to the passions enveloping us. We have moved our massage up and while Steve continues to massage Lynette's lower back, buns, love cleft and thighs I am working her back, shoulders and arms. It is truly a four-hand massage now, extending the full length of her torso. Though Steve and I no longer follow the same synchronization, our massage was delivered according to Lynette's positive responses. Now her skin is flushed, moist and glistening with oil. I leaned over and begun to use my lips to kiss Lynette's back and neck. Taking a cue, Steve does the same on Lynette's lower back, and I expected him to rush to her pussy for a taste. Lynette is continuing to moan in a state of pleasure as Steve massages her buns. The Best Cums in Thirds Steve has begun tracing a racetrack pattern of running his index finger from her vagina to gather slick juices and then drawing them up her inner labias crossing the hood gently and back down the other side. With each circuit, I see and feel her press harder into the bed. Suddenly I see the hood crossover move elicit a spasm in Lynette's vagina. She is hot and close to coming, I think. Drawing her arms under her, Lynette pushed up and rolled onto her back. Then siting up to face us, bare breasted and flushed with Steve on her left and me on the right, she says, "Please gentlemen, would you attend to my front side?" "Hey, we'd love to!" Steve replied. So she turned over between the two of us. I heard more laughter from the street as it echoing across our veranda. From a seemingly random d-jay selection, Patti Smith's voice cut through singing, "Take me now baby here as I am," followed by the most appropriate "Love is a banquet on which we feed." Now that was inspiring! Now, with more "Skinny Dip Hemp Seed Glow Oil" I did as Patti instructed and delivered a feast of a massage. Before long our mouths were parched with sexual excitement so I left Steve and Lynette to fetch some ice cubes in a bowl. Returning, I popped one in each of our mouths. Steve had been kissing Lynette's thighs and working his way to her sex. I could smell her sweet musk in the air and thought of the feeling she would have when his icy tongue reached her pussy. On all fours, there was no hiding Steve's fully erect penis. I could see his foreskin pulled back showing a large dollop of precum. Looking down, I could see his precum tracks on the skin of her thighs. Lynette glowed, and her breath started as Steve and I slid our hands up the inside of her thighs. We passed over her abdomen while running fingers through the patch she had left as a token above her pussy. Applying more oil, we moved up her sides to cup her breasts. We both took a nipple into our mouths, suckled and nibbled on her nipples. Steve sent his right hand back down to touch her clit. It was erect like the dorsal I know and love, standing in fiery red contrast to plump white lips. I moved hand to massage her abdomen, her womb. Lynette drew her knees up and let them fall apart as invitation to a feast from between her legs. Steve, slipped his tongue from her breast, traced it down through her navel and stopped to flick it across her clitoris hood. She convulsed at the sudden touch and moaned in satisfaction. Moving his tongue further down, Steve finally got his long awaited taste of Lynette's honey. It had continued to flow and accumulate as a rivulet down to her pink pucker. Steve made delicate tantalizing work of lapping it up and did not miss a taste anywhere. Lynette's pussy glistened with honey and after pausing his tongue for a moment, Steve inserted his index finger into her bright pink opening to the first digit. Drawing more nectar out, he retraced the racetrack up, over and down to spread her liquid love in trails. On the last circuit, he traced a silvery strip up through her patch, pulling her hair teasingly for effect. At her navel, he stopped, leaned over and inserted his tongue before moving back up to her breasts. Steve was also groaning now. Again, he opened his mouth to Lynette's nipple, drew it in quickly and whipped his tongue around in rapid circles. Lynette's chest heaved as his hands massaged her breast and nibbled her nipple. He gyrated his pelvis as if in intercourse and I could see pre-cum stripes across Lynette's thigh. Her legs still apart with knees upright and feet on the bed, she too flexed her pelvis in time his movements. I extended my mouth to Lynette's to kiss her deeply and to deliver an affectionate message of approval. I felt love and joy at seeing her as Aphrodite seeking to procreate in the name of love. Taking command, Lynette rolled to Steve, sought his lips with hers and pulled him firmly to herself. Their tongues danced and I watched as his hands reach around to match her tight embrace. She moved her hands from his face to hers and took hold of his cock in the left while cupped his balls in the right. His precum slipping across her left hand and Lynette immediately noticed how much thicker Steve was than Troy. Not only was the girth different, Steve's head was silky from its foreskin protection. Troy's was robust by comparison. Not wanting to rush or miss outpacing the evening, Steve sagely leaned towards Lynette and pressed her back to the bed. He dropped to suckle her breasts again as her hands were pulled free of his organs. Steve was drawing a line down Lynette's chest towards her navel and I saw an opening to give her nipple ripples from my own ministrations. Steve moved back down for second helpings of her nectar, sliding down on lips and tongue, nuzzling her patch above the cleft between her pussy's hairless lips. His tongue flicked Lynette's clitoris sail over in quick motion and she expressed a single continuous "aaaaaahhhhhhhaaaaa.........ohhhhh." Her pussy showed involuntary contractions. Steve lifted Lynette's outstretched legs then over his shoulders and with hands and mouth free pressed his lips to her sex. Kissing her love lips full on with his, he drank the sweet nectar flowing across his face and extended his tongue into her nest seeking her spongy button g-spot. Lynette's chest was heaving as I tried to keep my lips and tongue working in time with hers. Her tits were undulating up and down so I used my hands to bring them to rest, gently rolling her nipples to give accent to Steve's manipulations. Steve moved his right hand to her love canal and put just the tip in her wet, slick opening. Rotating it, we spread her inner labia's about and opened her to reveal a veritable rose of color and fiery wet flesh. His index finger moved forward into her and raising his first digit up, he pressed on her button in synch with the now slow orbit of his tongue up, across, and down the sides and top of her clitoris, pausing to lick upward from the opening of her vagina to her erect bud. In a deft move, Steve inserted his index finger smoothly into Lynette's lubricated pussy, reaching clear to her cervix where he danced a swirl and withdrew softly drawing back with continued pressure to her g-spot. Lynette's response was acute. She doubled up in a sharp, contraction originating deep in her abdomen. She physically almost bucked, nearly tossing Steve to off the bed. Her legs hooked around his head as if to crush his head and I feared the thrashing might snap his neck. Steve felt the gripping waves of contractions from her muscular love channel as she came and came again. Each contraction came in time with Steve's soft rub to her sponge and push of his index finger. All the time Steve kept his tongue in position, moving titillating her clit with what seemed to be a tapping motion. After what seemed a lifetime Lynette began to slow down, resting it seemed only to convulse again. Her toes curled impossibly under her feet and I knew I had witnessed a milestone orgasm. One I felt unsure I could duplicate. As her husband I felt almost intimidated for a moment until I recalled our own many striking orgasms in addition to those she'd described at the hands of Michel, a Frenchman she'd been lovers with in college...those heady days of extreme hormones. In the end, I knew that what was good in love was good for us both. Finally, Lynette rose up on her elbows and said "thank you Steve." So simple yet sincere was her appreciation that it said more than anything else could have. Almost as remarkable was what she said next, "I want you to be a friend for life." Okay, well as far as I was concerned anything coming from her heart from mutual respect and trust did not threaten our commitment and was intrinsically good. What they had experienced this trip was enough to convince me it would be good for us all to continue this special friendship. With a growing grin, Lynette started laughing as much in joy as to break our silent individual thoughts and bring us back to the fun at hand. I passed around a round of light mojitos to wet our whistles. Love can be a parching activity. The night sounds from below continued to filter in mixed with soothing waves as they met with the white sand beach. Somewhere a ukulele sounded to the melody of Dimitri Tiomkin's "It's a Wonderful Life." WELLSPRING Lynette set her mojito down and rolled towards Steve giving him another full body embrace. He grabbed her breasts and took in their heat and fullness. He took Lynnette by her cheeks to emphasize the delicacy of his kiss. Then Lynnette took him by the shoulders and pressed him back to the bed. Continuing the kiss, she climbed atop him. Eye to eye, they began to writhe as one until Lynette stopped to look deeply into Steve's eyes. Catching my smile, Lynette leaned down to kiss Steve's chest and breasts adding some nibbles to his nipples. From there she pushed up onto all fours and I could see Steve's precum mixed to her skin during their writhing about. Then she looked to me and seeing my smile, leaned to me for a kiss. I whispered to her, "I love you dearly ... " Turning her attention back to Steve, she said in a soft throaty voice, "this may or may not be love I'm feeling, but it's certainly love I want to make with you." Her emotions were running high as she skinned her nipples down his body to attend to his swollen organ. Taking his uncircumcised penis into her right hand, Lynette pulled his foreskin back to expose his rim as her left hand cupped his balls. She took his head into her mouth to the rim, swept a quarter turn around the rim opened to reveal her tongue resting on his slit. Lifting her tongue an elastic string of Steve's precum came with it. Then taking it up into her mouth to taste him, she closed her lips, and then her eyes. Lynette shifted, and without releasing his penis she swung her left leg over his chest to present her sex, but teasingly since it was far enough above to prevent contact. Her lips were slick wet, swollen, flushed and enticing. This time Lynette took Steve's penis deeply into her throat. She sucked him and whirled her tongue, crowning his shiny uncircumcised head while massaging his balls. She felt stimulated by the newness and the naughtiness of what she was doing. It heightened her passion. She enjoyed the different feel of Steve's helmet, so like her own bud under a sheath. She wondered if a woman's clitoris would feel similar to this on her tongue. She gave Steve's penis a last crowning French kiss on the head and lifted her leg back around to face him. Then she lay down on him, pressing her breasts and his erect organ between their bodies. She kissed him, reached around his shoulders while wrapping her legs under his and rolled to her left. Stopping with Steve atop her, Lynette released her grip on his shoulders and swung her arms back to make herself vulnerable to him. Her legs she spread, opening her pussy and then drew her knees back and up above her waist as her pelvis hiked up, presenting herself to be feasted upon. Steve's engorged penis pressed against Lynette's tight abdomen and I could see a release precum onto her belly. Thinking for her, she had to think it wildly erotic, he emitted so much more than I did and his had a taste unique to his own character and masculinity. Perhaps she found it sweeter at first taste or more salty on the back of her tongue. Either way she must now know his signature and unique essence. A signature she will recall with fondness it certainly must be. I could plainly see that Lynette was also flowing with sex's nectar just as Steve was. Both were all silent in anticipation of what would invariably happen in the next movements of this erotic ballet. I watched them kissing aggressively and ever the feeling person; I could see Lynette's desire to slow the pace and match it with the intimate experience it was. She is only capable of loving those who love her. Her intent to make this a slow dance of affection guided her next movements without having to think. She reached her hands behind Steve's hips, and taking a cheek in each hand to still his movements. He rose up on two arms above her and looked into her eyes, finding they were reflecting his own affection he realized it was not rejection but her desire to take this in without missing anything that lead her to hold his movements. Though Steve could roughly take her as he wished in her vulnerability, he also felt the gravity of the moment, sensing the power joined minds, emotions and desire. Moving her hands around Lynnette grasped his upright, stiff cock in both hands. It was otherworldly to see my bride holding his thick cock in her hands and the precum that glistened on her fingers from gently stroking the head of his organ. Steve pulled his legs forward and pressed his knees against Lynette's ass cheeks. His cock rested against her clitoris with both of her hands still on it. Her labias parted as if to kiss his shaft and coat his penis. Her leaking juices did their job lubricating his base and his balls pressed against her vaginal opening she felt as direct heat. Steve could not help but to minutely slide his cock up and down to stimulate her. Finally, Lynette moved his cock poising it above her opening. Then she lowered her hips and placed his head at her opening. It twitched and gathered her juices with his precum into an elastic mix. The magic moment arrived as Lynette pressed her pussy up to accept Steve's penis while pressing him in rim deep. Just deeply enough to stretch the taught band of her opening. Both expressed full lungs of air and I took note once again of the night air and sounds from outside. It must have been coming from a car since the words drifted in and out of volume sounded Sade's "Orinoco Flow" with the words "sail away, sail away". Lynette had her eyes closed hard shut, seeking out every minute sensation and giving every bit she could to Steve with exquisite movements. His head she stroked up and down, opening-head in-up to clitoris-opening-head in..., all the while mixing his precum with hers and heightening both of their arousal. Next, she did as would any sane person would and pressed his cock in deeper. He penetrated a good four inches this time. Gasping again both held still a short but seeming eternal moment. Drawing him out with relaxing pelvis, she repeated the maneuver, each time a bit faster but gracefully to feel every stretching, filling moment. "Arrraaagh" they called in a harmony of feminine and masculine primal calls. Lynette retracted her pelvic, drawing Steve's slicked cock out and repeated the move, and then again. Each time they vocalized their ecstasy in unison. On the third thrust, surprising us all, Lynette held Steve tight pressed to her pussy, fully inside her obviously stretched lips. She engulfed him within her splayed her pussy, wrapping his balls and hilt with slick and fleshy swollen lips. Her clit was peaking from its stretched hood, a pope's hat but crimson and delicate moist sheen. Her hands reached to his ass cheeks and him within herself firmly with her nails digging in. She was savoring a favorite sensation; the feel of a cock head stretching her banded entrance and then giving way to deep penetration. She liked it just slowly enough to feel every minute stretch and sensation. It drove her wild. Lynette giggled at the situation, holding Steve tightly to her pussy ran counter to his mating drive, but she was in control and had better things in store for him. Raising her legs, Lynette wrapped his waist into a tight, inescapable position. Her hands and legs held him deeply inside, and taking a deep breath, she hummed a sigh of equally deep felt satisfaction and appreciation. Moments passed and they both appeared to begin vibrating. Steve lowered and pressed himself to her body tightly, giving in to her commands while necking and nibbling on her earlobe. Lynette began to move in slow undulating abdominal motions. With Steve fully engorged in her possessive womb, she began returning the massage given her earlier, but this with her clenching vagina. Once again, he felt the effects of her well-developed vaginal muscles as they rhythmically milked at his thick cock deep insider her. Waves washed over his organ, and it responded with generous emissions of yet more precum. Pressing forward in shared passion, Lynette worked him, feeling his balls resting against her pink anus; she started a circular movement to combine with his cock massage. He showed incredible restraint and stamina through this and I realized that Lynette was purposely blending his pre-cum with her sex nectar and mixing it into a mélange of slippery love. Their self-restraint began to give way as I heard their breathing became labored. The moist night air clung to them and with skin shining with sweat, sea and oil; I began to taste their thick love musk on my tongue. Lynette relaxed her bind on Steve and dropped her arms to extend straight from her shoulders. Steve lifted himself off her, withdrew his slick cock a measure and took her with a single hard thrust pressing his head firmly to her cervix. Lynette bucked in orgasm, crying out and crying from her eyes. It was sharp again, but passed quickly. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and fell to the pillow behind. She deserved that drive to her very soul I thought after having tortured Steve as she had. Steve's instincts took over with the release of his hands and he had immediately showed some of the man inside. He took her hands in his, pressing his fingers between hers so they were palm-to-palm. Leaning forward he pressed her hands to the bed leaving her vulnerable and at his mercy. She had "given Steve his head" as horsemen say when releasing bridles to allow a mount freedom to race as their will wants. Now he had the reins to drive his mount, as he wanted, unrestrained and primed to charge. Surprising me, he started slowly with a slow circular rhythm: slide in, grind a rotation against Lynette's slick clitoris, slowly withdraw and repeat three times before varying to a faster tempo, reverse circulation, and each third circuit changing to something new. This time I could see, him lift his cock after penetration to press her spongy g-spot and massage her clit. It was slow, but effective as Lynette began gasping to a single breath and holding it throughout the maneuver. She told me later he was so deep her cervix was being massaged by his head and she could imagine their already well-mixed mélange of nectar and precum being added too with more of his hot seed. Lynette was leaking their mixed juices freely and their scent was heavy like sandalwood but intoxicating to me. Pausing with the tip of his head nestled in Lynette's opening; he gathered his shoulders back and pulled Lynette's hands towards himself, bunching together for fast, hard action. Lynette used the moment to hike her pelvis up and offer the best possible position for a deep almost vertical penetration. Steve slew into Lynette, pounding her pelvis. Fast enough to slap her ass press his balls to her anus and cause her breasts to sway up and back down with each repetition. Using her held hands for momentum and control, Steve increased his pace and with each thrust pounded his head against her cervix. The friction on her sponge and contact on her clit were driving her wild and she voiced joy with each thrust. Again and again Steve fed Lynette his cock, sometimes fitting in a grinding motion for effect. Steve, playing the horseman, saw his moment clearly and withdrew, paused and slew into her deeper than before, withdrew, paused and slammed again, withdrew, paused and thrust with measured might. Each time Lynette bellowed, "aahaar ... aahaaha," and Steve harmonized with his own groaning, "haaaahaa ... haaaha!" Lynette's tits riding up and down her chest the entire time in rhythm with their shifting bodies and sound of thighs slapping together