We recently returned from three weeks in Jamaica. a favorite destination for us but this time we stayed at a fairly exclusive, adults-only resort we had not stayed at previously. The location - near Montego Bay - was stunning and the weather was perfect throughout our stay. We had deliberately chosen the child-free resort because we know people who had stayed there and from all accounts, the place had the potential to be very interesting to people who enjoy a similar lifestyle to Lizzie and I. We quickly found out that for some couples it allowed them to relive their teenage trips to Tenerife, only in far more comfort and with a better view - oh, and with a greater impact on their pocket, of course.

After a post-travel period of adjusting to the weather and the complete lack of pressure to be anywhere at any time, we were both beginning to wind down. We spent the first full day strolling along the beautiful sands, taking lunch beside the pool, and dozing in the sun. Lizzie, of course, was looking incredible in a white bikini which, although pretty skimpy, made her look dressed for dinner with her parents compared to what some of the other women were wearing, which I was certainly not complaining about from behind my mirrored sunglasses as I watched one after another stroll by, fully aware of the eyes on them regardless of whether they were accompanied or not.

Lizzie, on the lounger next to me, was getting plenty of attention from both sexes, the women looked either curious or competitive, the men frankly outright lustful. There's something about the sun and the lack of clothes that seems to make holidaymakers permanently horny, me being no exception.

Lizzie noticed the growing tent in my shorts, which I was discretely trying to conceal, and, looking over her sunglasses at me, smiling, said, "Shall we go to our room?" I stood, carefully, and took her hand, leading her past the unabashed stares of several men as she provocatively swayed her hips, her skin already beginning to brown and her dark hair starting to develop gold highlights from the sun, a thin sheen of sweat on her arms, neck and the back of her legs from laying on the sunbed.

The moment we were in the room I took Lizzie to the bed and pulled the bow in the little cord on her hip which secured her bikini bottoms, allowing them to fall away. Kneeling and facing one another we kissed as I slipped a finger between her open legs and into her wet cunt. She had been thinking about sex too, so I asked her if she had.

"Yes..", she said, her voice punctuated by a small moan.

"What was I doing to you in your mind?", I asked, increasing both the speed and pressure of my hand movements.

"Oh, darling, It wasn't you, I'm sorry.." she gasped, her eyes locked on mine. My cock jumped, this kind of talk always gets me as hard as a rock.


"Mm.. Waiter..."

"Really? I don't think I..."

"Black guy, muscular, young... great smile..."

"You were thinking about...."

"Oh...", she moaned, "Oh God.. him behind me, deep inside me... you watching... fuck..."

Lizzie leaned into me, her head on my shoulder, her arms round my neck, and came on my fingers. She came for a long while as I slowed my strokes down, her come running gently over my fingers and palm, dripping onto the bed cover below us. When her breathing had recovered, Lizzie told me to stand and, kneeling in front of me on the edge of the bed, took me in her mouth, expertly making me shoot my load down her throat, making the loud swallowing noises she knew I loved. I wanted to tell her all the pictures I had in my head of her and the waiter, but I was totally lost, the only thing on my mind was how good my cock felt in her warm, liquid mouth, and the view of the top of her head, her hair hastily and untidily pushed up as she slid my entire length into her mouth, again and again, her lips flat against my tummy and then back to close over the very tip of my cock, before taking all of me once more, her palms on my arse, forcing me deeper into her mouth each time.

When I returned to my senses I was lying on the bed, the windows open to the balcony, a delightfully warm breeze on my naked body. I felt completely relaxed for what seemed like a very long time as I heard Lizzie humming happily to herself in the shower.
Later, we dressed, Lizzie throwing a short summer dress on over her new "holiday" lingerie - a black set of laced French knickers and a balcony bra pushing her small tits up and almost fully visible through her plunging neckline, while I opted for safe middle-aged man on holiday standards of linen trousers and an open shirt.

We were on the second floor, so it would only be a short stroll down the stairs, next to our room, to the ground-floor restaurant for dinner. As we left our room we almost literally bumped into our neighbors as they appeared from theirs, talking animatedly in German and not looking where they were going. Apologizing profusely, the couple instinctively swapped to English, and we all introduced ourselves and swapped pleasantries. As we reached the ground floor they said goodnight and headed off towards a taxi, idling at the main entrance. Seated in the restaurant, drinking a glass of chilled wine and waiting for our first course, Lizzie said, "Did you see those two?"

"Of course, it's hard to miss a 6ft man standing on your foot,"

"HUGE age difference, don't you think?"

I thought about it, "I don't think I paid that much attention, other than to her, well.."

"Tits and arse?" asked Lizzie, eyebrow raised, "Although," she continued, "She was smoking hot for a woman of that age. She has to be 60."

I was shocked, but Lizzie went on to detail all the things she'd noticed in less than 2 minutes with the woman. Apparently, she'd had lots of work done but her skin gave the game away.

"If not older," said my wife pensively, "and he, well, what do you think? late twenties?"

I tried to picture him - tall, well built, bronzed skin, handsome but not too handsome, rugged perhaps, "Yeah, I'd say late twenties, maybe younger even."

"And," continued Lizzie, "One of them is loaded, did you see the jewels, the watches?" I hadn't, but Lizzie informed me there was a vast amount of cash draped over both of them, "I bet it's the woman who has the money," she said, I tutted at the stereotype but Lizzie looked pityingly at me and so I changed the subject and got on with eating my recently arrived food. After dinner we went for a leisurely stroll around the hotel grounds, well-kept gardens and the private stretch of golden beach. The sound of the sea was hypnotic and lulling, particularly with the warmth of the night - it's much harder to enjoy a beach stroll in the UK when it's either 40 degrees and overrun with screaming kids (and their parents) or below zero and raining horizontally, with nothing in between the two.

Holding hands, we ordered a bottle of champagne sent to the room on the way past the bar and made our way back. Sitting on the balcony and looking out over the surf, several large ships brightly lit and making their way to or from the nearby commercial port, I raised the topic of the waiter, as Lizzie probably knew I would.

Sighing contentedly she settled back in her chair, her feet on the balcony rail, and described him in detail, this time adding that he could only have been late teens or early twenties, that she could see from his tight white uniform that he had a "very big" cock, especially if it was soft, which she hadn't been able to discern, and that he turned her on because despite all the other hot women, some much younger than Lizzie and wearing far less, he had seemingly only had eyes for my wife, staring at her even when he thought Lizzie wasn't looking or had her eyes closed.

I asked her what she thought he would look like naked and she put her head back, relaxed, closed her eyes, and casually slid her dress up, parting her legs slightly so she could drop her right hand between them. I heard elastic snap back onto her skin as she fumbled the first attempt to pull her knickers aside, then saw her wrist and hand start to slowly rotate as she stroked herself.
Breathily, almost sighing the words out, Lizzie answered my murmured questions, "You said he was muscular?"

"Oh - yes, sleek, toned - not a gram of fat.."


"At least six feet, yes."

"You saw the outline of his cock, tell me about it?"

"Oh fuck..." she said, as I saw her hand movements change - she had fingers inside herself now. "Oh fuck... he was, well, he was huge, Charles, if he was limp then my God he must be... fuck... 12 inches hard... maybe more!" Lizzie's hand was moving fast now, she had opened her legs wider and her feet were planted on the rail, pushing rhythmically, thighs straining against her own hand as she fucked herself, her breathing audible from my chair a few feet away. She was rocking gently back and forth, eyes still closed, as I continued softly questioning her.

"You said behind you, that's where you'd want him?"

"Christ yes, holding me up with that cock in my cunt, using me to make himself come, you watching, encouragingly..."

"Would you let him come inside you?"

"Oh my God, yes, I would, I'd want him to, so I could feel it but you - you'd need to tell him to do it..." I was very hard now, but wanted to make this all about Lizzie, so just continued to watch as she rammed her fingers into herself, her left hand now inside the top of her dress and under her bra cup, squeezing her right nipple. Her breathing got faster and more ragged as the porn movie in her head played out.

"That's it, Lizzie, come, show me."

She did, shouting the single word, "OH!" and grunting, then she stopped moving entirely, her fingers inside her cunt, one hand still inside her dress on her tit, coming hard as she screwed up her face and bit her lower lip, her eyes shut tight.

When she had relaxed, I knelt next to her, taking her hand from between her legs I cleaned her soaked fingers, licking them and sucking them gently, then, as I was pushing her legs open and about to go down on her, her hand already on the back of my head, we heard what were clearly fucking noises through the open window of the room next door. I stopped, kneeling between my wife's legs, looking up at her as we listened. The voices of both the younger man and the older woman were audible, and getting louder, along with the regular sound of pelvis hitting arse cheeks which made it obvious someone was getting it hard from behind. There was also a lot of moaning and exclamation which was definitely the woman’s voice.

Lizzie, of course speaks fluent German and was listening intently, her head cocked to one side as she concentrated. Absently, she opened her legs again and shuffled her arse forward a little, pushing my head down. As I put my hands on her thighs and lowered my mouth toward her delicious-smelling cunt, I said, "Translate." Lizzie trembled as I pushed my tongue inside her soaking cunt, her lips swollen and open, her taste amazing as her cone spread over my face and chin, Lizzie pushing gently against me with her hips as I built up speed.

"Take it, take it..." said Lizzie, clearly aroused by the audio show happening 30 feet away, translating in real-time. She gasped a little and I felt a tiny squirt of come hit my tongue.

"Did you hear her?" the German woman gasped, “Did you hear that English slut fuck herself?" Clearly, they had been spying on us as we were now spying on them, and it made me rock hard as Lizzie started to grind against my face with renewed purpose as she continued to interpret their words for me.

"Yes, I heard the slut, I wonder how her cunt tastes?"

"Not as good as mine, no way as good as mine."

"Hmm, maybe I should find out, would you like that?"

"She would let you, she's a fucking *****," gasped the woman, and I could hear from her voice that she was breathless, despite not being able to understand her words.

All the time they were discussing my wife, Lizzie was fucking my face hard. She had already come in my mouth twice in less than five minutes, and she was still bucking and pushing harder than ever, making the chair bounce on its feet as I knelt between her legs, my back against the railing, both her hands on my head, her fingers twisted into my hair so she could hold me against her and use my face and tongue like a sex toy.

"You're the *****, you're the *****," said the man, "Say it, say you're a fucking *****."

"I'm a fucking *****... I'm a fucking *****... I am a fucking *****!!!" she was talking much louder now, careless of her environment or who could hear her in her excitement.

Lizzie came again, squirting into my mouth as she translated and commented: "Fuck! he's in her arse... she just told him to come in her arse." I had unzipped my trousers and pulled my cock out, and was using my right hand to wank myself aggressively and urgently, my balls beginning to contract.

"No," said the German man, I'll come in your mouth.

"No! In my arse, do it in my arse, please do it in my arse."

"Turn around and open your mouth," the slapping noise stopped as he pulled out of her, "I said open your fucking mouth!"

"I want it in my arse"

"Open your mouth *****, it's your mouth or your hair, you decide, but make it fast." We heard his grunts as he came, and her muffled moans as his cock and come filled her mouth.

Lizzie and I came almost together - I came so hard that I hit myself with a hot spurt in the face as I bent over her cunt, swallowing her warm come as it flooded my mouth. I fell back to the floor, exhausted. After a few minutes, I became aware of my surroundings again, my cock still in my hand, limp now, and my wife still sitting in the chair with her thighs splayed open and her dripping cunt visible to me, her eyes closed and her face flushed, "Goodnight," called a voice in heavily accented English from the balcony.
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