I’m not particularly keen on beaches. I find it hard to relax around so many other people and inevitably I manage to burn regardless of how much sunblock I apply. Lizzie, on the other hand, will happily flop onto a lounger in the full glare of the sun, rotating now and then to make sure her tan is even - she goes a rich, dark brown almost immediately on ******** to the light, it seems. It suits her and she loves it so we have a deal - I’ll spend at least one day in any week on holiday with her at the beach and then I get to pick an activity for another day. In all honestly I usually pick stuff that we would do together anyway, so, essentially, Lizzie just gets me to go to the beach. She will, now and then, go on her own if I’m being particularly difficult about it, but it’s pretty rare.

After a few days in Jamaica, Lizzie decided it was beach day. We found a couple of spare loungers close to the beautiful sea, the breeze balancing the heat perfectly so that even I felt comfortable with the temperature. I was, of course, also completely in the shade of a huge umbrella. The beach was very quiet - It was privately owned by the resort at which we were staying which reduced footfall significantly, it being fenced at each end and guarded all day by disinterested young men (I would be too), dozing peacefully in their wooden huts.

I turned my gaze from the hypnotic ocean at the sound of Lizzie’s voice - she was talking to the uniformed waiter who had appeared as if from beneath the sand at her side. I was thinking how sorry I felt for these guys - hurrying around a baking beach all day in what was effectively a dinner suit with a white jacket, taking over-priced drinks to tourists lolling around in the shade and spending money like water. Lizzie’s giggle made me focus again and I realized the waiter was the young man who we usually saw working the pool area, the one who had been so taken with my wife the first time he saw her in a bikini, and for whom Lizzie had a soft, or wet, spot.

As they chatted, Lizzie finding the staff rota fascinating as he explained why he was working down here today, I noticed she was giving him the full show - her arms stretched casually above her head as she reclined, her white bikini top contrasting with her brown skin and her matching bikini bottoms tied at each hip in a neat bow. She had her left leg bent at the knee, her right stretched out on the lounger so that from where he was standing the waiter had a great view of Lizzie’s inner thigh, and while he talked, grinning, he made no attempt to conceal his hungry stares.

Lizzie ordered iced water and a bottle of chilled white wine for us, watching the waiter as he strolled away and towards the beach bar a few hundred feet distant, tucked discretely behind a dune.

“I see you still like our young friend”, I said.

Lizzie chuckled as she turned to face me, “I think he likes me too.. he can’t hide it if I’m honest.

I raised my eyebrows, “Big like you thought?”

“Uh-huh. Very, I think.”

“Maybe we should see if he wants to meet for a drink later, you know when he’s finished doing his waiter thing…”

“I would very much like that, darling”, she smiled.

I was now too excited to go back to reading and let my mind wander, already imagining this beautiful young man inside my wife

Lizzie stared in the direction the waiter had vanished in for a few minutes, then, sighing, turned onto her tummy to let the sun work on her back. Within minutes I could hear her breathing slowly and deeply and I guessed she had nodded off, as she often does when sunbathing.

Soon the waiter reappeared, again, as if from out of thin air, and quietly placed the drinks on the table between Lizzie and I. I watched him carefully as he struggled to prevent himself from repeatedly glancing at my wife’s back and, no doubt, amazing arse, only slightly concealed by her bikini, her legs parted in a pose of complete relaxation.

He lingered slightly too long after delivering the drinks and receiving a tip, just a few seconds of being unable to drag his gaze away, but quickly recovered and moved to leave, looking sheepishly at me as if to see if I’d noticed.

“Wait”, I said, quietly, “do you like my wife?”

“Erm.. what?”, said the young man, looking very uncomfortable as if I might be about to attempt to defend Lizzie’s honor.

“It’s OK, it’s perfectly OK to like her, and to look at her - I enjoy it when others find her attractive - she is isn’t she?”

“Well, yes, yes she is - very… attractive,” he said, his voice trailing off as we both moved our heads slowly and in unison to look at my sleeping wife.

I glanced over his shoulder - there was nobody close to us, and certainly nobody paying us any attention.

I reached over and slowly, gently, pulled the end of the bow on the hip of Lizzie’s bikini bottoms, releasing it so that the white string fell away.

The waiter watched, transfixed, as I gently pulled the small triangle of cloth away from Lizzie’s arse, revealing the white tan line beneath. Her legs were slightly parted, and I gestured for the young man to get closer and look. I watched his face as he realized he could see a little of my wife’s bald cunt from behind and I was amused and thrilled to see his mouth drop open in amazement. I could also see, very clearly from this distance, the outline of a very large erection in his suit trousers. I was genuinely surprised that his cock wasn’t poking a few inches out of the waist of his trousers - it was very impressive and I found myself staring, lost in thought as I again saw Lizzie coming hard on it in my mind’s eye.

I saw him rearrange himself, a little self-consciously, as his cock had grown into an uncomfortable position.

“Take it out, it’s fine, She won’t mind, I promise.”

Looking nervously behind him, but with obvious lust in his eyes, sweat beginning to shine on his forehead, he unzipped his trousers, then unbuttoned them as it was obvious his cock couldn’t be ******* just via the zipper, and dragged a huge, hard, very black cock into the sun.

I’ve seen very big cocks before, and in truth, this wasn’t the biggest, but what made it so impressive was how hard it was. Often with huge cocks they don’t seem to ever get fully erect, but this was pointing straight up, flat against his belly, its head on his solar plexus, and so hard it looked like he was having difficulty pushing it far enough away from his body to get his hands around it. I say “hands” and not “hand”, because when he started to stroke himself, staring intently at Lizzie’s open legs and into the darkness between her thighs, he needed both hands to meet around his shaft.

After he’d been lost in his world for a minute or two, I put my hand on Lizzie’s shoulder, never taking my eyes off the waiter, who was beginning to stroke faster, no longer caring if anyone was watching (I was checking, not because I was worried, but because I didn’t want him to get into trouble), and shook her gently, saying, close to her ear, “Lizzie - you should wake up..”

“Hmm. What’s the matter?”, she sighed.

“Your waiter is back.”

Fully waking very quickly at this news, Lizzie turned over, exclaiming as she took in the sight before her. The waiter stopped, mid-stroke as if caught and about to be given a dressing down, followed by the sack and perhaps even arrest. You could see all of this flash over his mind as clearly as if reading his thoughts.

Lizzie quickly sat up, swinging her feet onto the sand on either side of his widely spaced shoes, so he was standing between her legs. Her open bikini bottoms fell away completely, revealing her cunt, her legs splayed by the need to accommodate the man standing between them.

After hesitating just for a second to inhale deeply, relishing the scent of his massive cock, Lizzie took its engorged head into her mouth, taking his hands in hers she pulled them away and started stroking his cock with her own, her fingers too small to fully enclose it.

To begin with, my wife could only get three or four inches of it into her mouth, but as her saliva lubricated his shaft and she pushed her jaws further apart, she began to get control of him, half standing as she slid her lips up and up to his head, then dropping to sit again as she took him as deep as she could.

He was moaning, looking straight up to the sky, and rocking his hips as Lizzie worked on him. Lizzie, too, was making a whimpering noise as she tried noisily to fill her lungs through her nose. As she slid up his cock I could see that he was losing a lot of pre-cum, as there was no way that amount of fluid was just from Lizzie’s mouth.

I slid onto the lounger behind Lizzie and put my arms around her. Taking each of the young man’s hands in my own, I pulled him closer and placed them on the back of my wife’s head, pushing her further down onto him with each stroke, encouraging him to do the same as I looked up at him looming overhead, blocking the sun.

Soon he was enthusiastically fucking Lizzie’s mouth, his fingers entwined in her hair for better purchase, making her moan as much as she could with her mouth so full. He was watching her now, her face turned up and her eyes locked on his, which was driving me crazy, my cock hard against Lizzie’s back.

I reached around her and unbuttoned his shirt from the bottom up, stopping when I could reach no further, and pulling it open to reveal a flat, toned belly with very little hair, his diaphragm rolling as his orgasm neared. Lizzie made a grateful, low groan as I ******* him to her, sliding her hand up from his cock and over his belly and back again, his cock moving quickly in and out of her mouth, which was now stretched to its limit.

I slid my hand between Lizzie’s legs, finding, without surprise, that her cunt was soaked, dripping, and wide open. I pushed a finger inside her and started to fuck her with it, her hips moving rhythmically against my hand. After a few seconds, I stopped and withdrew my hand, making her moan loudly in frustration. She dropped her hand between her legs but I held her wrist firm, pulling her hand away, holding it behind her back, not tightly, but so she couldn’t free it. Defiantly she moved her other hand to her cunt and I took that wrist too, again holding it behind her back, both her wrists held in the tight grip of one of my hands.

“No. Not now. Later for you. Now it’s him - concentrate on him.”, I said, close to her ear.

Lizzie wriggled and squirmed, frantically trying, without success, to move herself into a position that allowed her to rub her cunt on the lounger beneath her, trying to swear at me while getting her face fucked. God, I was hard.

I could see the young man was close, his breathing was erratic, his grip on my wife’s hair so tight I could see his knuckles whiten. Using my free hand I unclipped Lizzie’s bikini top, pushing the straps gently over her shoulders and letting it fall to the sand, ******** her small breasts and hard, erect nipples.

Breathlessly, the waiter said, looking a little desperate, and addressing the question to Lizzie, “I’m… I’m.. gonna.. I’m gonna come..”, This seemed to make a huge physical effort, presumably to hold on a little longer, his shoulders shuddering a little, “where…?” He asked, plaintively.

Lizzie was in no position to answer, but I knew her well enough to step in. “In her mouth, do it in her mouth..”, I muttered, transfixed as his balls started to contract.

He stopped thrusting, letting out a series of long, low moans that were almost like sobs, and I could see his shaft expand and contract, the thick veins along its length pulsing as he let his come pump into my wife’s mouth.

Lizzie made a series of whimpering, moaning, gasping sounds, her eyes closed and her mouth as far down his cock as she could manage. I noticed, amazed, that her throat bulging as she swallowed, driven to the edge as she gulped, and gulped - an obscene noise. Involuntarily I came in my shorts, the release causing me to go dizzy for a few seconds, still holding my wife’s wrists behind her back.

Finally, it was over - the young man had emptied himself into Lizzie for at least 30 seconds, never once did his come stop this entire time. I’d never seen anything like it.

When he took his cock out of her mouth, my wife fell back to the lounger, naked, exhausted, her legs splayed and the wetness between them glistening in the sun. She was lost for a while, eyes closed, breathing hard.

By the time she recovered the young waiter was long gone - I had given him a generous tip and our room number.

“Fuck, Charles, I’ve got to have him in me... I’ve got to…”

“I know."
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