For as long as I can remember, I have loved that specific moment when a person lets go, loses themselves, gives up all control, and completely capitulates. It is a moment of transcendence and rapture. I simply cannot get enough of it. Some - possibly many - would say that my desire, my lust to immerse myself in it, is wrong; maybe even sick. But I disagree.
He was a total stranger. I didn't know him at the time, and never would. He was just there. Nobody special. Totally unremarkable. I almost didn't notice him at all. He blended into the crowd, and looked just like every other guy who was there that night. There was nothing remarkable or even memorable about him...except for his face. I will never forget the look on his face.
There was no way I could have missed his look, since he was barely three feet away from my wife and I. If he had been breathing, I would have been able to smell the alcohol on his breath. But he wasn't breathing; not even a wisp of air escaped his nostrils. His jaw was slack, and his mouth gaped, and his lips just barely parted in a faint grimace. His head hung back at an awkward angle, unmoving. And his eyes, half-lidded, were glazed over, unfocused and unseeing.
I was happy because it was my fault. I was the caused of his expression. At least, I was partly to blame. But I wasn't only thrilled because of him; I especially enjoyed his unflinching stare because, mere inches from my face, I could see that exact same countenance upon my wife's lovely face.
Sandra wore the same ecstatic stare, just like his. Her head tilted back, motionless, and her lips yawned open subtly, with no breath escaping them. Seeing her like that gave me a thrill like none other. I was elated to see her, my love, in such a state: motionless, frozen, gone.
"La petit mort" (the little death) has been used to describe that expression and that moment. I believe it is the perfect description.
It all began at the hotel's lobby bar. We were at our favorite, quaint, adults-only Caribbean resort. It was more than just a resort for adults; it was a clothing optional playground for the sexually adventurous. During the day, most guests opted to wear nothing at all. At night, the attire tended toward formal wear: classy, but very revealing, very sexy, and almost never including underwear. There were lively theme nights such as "GI Joes and Army Ho's", "White Night", and "Leather and Lace Night", and guests were encouraged to wear scanty costumes matching the nightly theme.
What really set this resort apart, however, was that guests were allowed - and even encouraged - to be openly sexual with each other in public. The management officially restricted such behavior to two specific locations: the Jacuzzi Lounge and the "Sin Room" behind the disco. However, the staff was flexible about enforcing the rules as long guests demonstrated some discretion. The lobby bar was one area where there was frequent "flexibility", and as I learned that night, very little discretion.
This bar was unlike other hotel lobby bars. It was an outdoor marble patio, located under a jungle of palm trees that swayed in the warm tropical breeze. Small groupings of padded loveseats and low coffee tables were scattered around. There were a few queen-sized beds suspended like swings from rough hewn wooden frames around the periphery. A mix of sensual jazz and contemporary music wafted from speakers hidden in the lush vegetation, and a large erotically themed fountain bubbled in the middle of it all.
It was well past 1 a.m., and yet the place was jammed. The theme that night was "Red Night", and the guests wore a mélange of costumes. The women's costumes ranged from translucent, floor length gowns with very low cut neck lines, to nothing more than red pasties and matching g-strings. In stark contrast, the men dressed much more conservatively in long pants and collared shirts. The saying at the resort was "It's all about the women", and this was most evident in the way everyone dressed that night.
In keeping with the night's theme, Sandra wore a clingy, crimson red dress with a slit that went all the way up to her hip bone, and a neck line that plunged down below her navel. Her beautiful, full breasts were unrestrained and they swayed enticingly with her every movement. It was also obvious that, in keeping with the resort's custom, she wore no underwear. Each time she turned or twisted, and especially if she bent over even slightly, her smoothly-waxed pussy flashed into view. She was stunning. I could see her beauty, and so could everyone else.
Squeezing through the crowd after enjoying the disco, we had found a small open spot at the end of the thatch-roofed bar. We grabbed the last high-backed bar stool and shared it, alternately leaning against it and the bar. We settled in and ordered drinks, and relaxed in the warm night air.
Sandra spotted him first, hardly three feet away from us at the corner of the bar. He was sitting next to a raven-haired woman dressed almost as provocatively as Sandra in an open-necked, very low-cut, red blouse. Neither of us could hear what the two of them were saying over the music and the low roar of the crowd surrounding us. They looked very innocuous, conversing innocently.
Despite the noise, Sandra somehow heard the sound of his zipper being pulled open. She glanced over at them before turning back to me.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered in my ear. In general, she is far more observant than I. When the circumstances are carnal in nature, her senses are even more highly tuned.
"What?" I answered, oblivious to what she had heard.
"You really didn't see that?" She elbowed me in the ribs. The neck of her dress gaped open, and I was momentarily distracted by the sight of her luscious bare breast.
"You can be so dense sometimes," she chided, and rolled her eyes.
I shrugged, and took another sip of my martini, enjoying the cold burn as it slid down my throat.
"Don't stare, but she just pulled his cock out of his pants." Her lips were almost touching my ear as she whispered her discovery. Her warm breath on my skin was nearly as distracting as the press of her full breast against my arm where she leaned into me.
"Look! She's stroking him under the bar," she hissed in a combination of surprise and excitement.
Feigning boredom, I glanced over at the objects of her spying. The man to our right was gazing at his companion and chatting as though he were carrying on a mundane conversation. His partner leaned casually against the bar on one elbow, with a drink in her hand, smiling as if entranced by whatever he was saying. Meanwhile, her other hand was indeed wrapped around his turgid cock, stroking up and down. The slight tremble of his hand caused the ice cubes in his drink to shudder; otherwise, nothing would have appeared at all out of the ordinary...above the bar.
Sandra moved slightly to stand between my legs, and leaned against me. Now we could both see our neighbors better without being too obvious - or so we thought. Her hip brushed against my groin when she moved, and my cock - already beginning to stir - grew harder. Evidently, she could feel my excitement, because she began swishing her hip back and forth, intentionally rubbing against me. It didn't take long before I was at full arousal.
My hard cock bulged against my thin linen pants. Sandra smiled, enjoying the effect she had on me. I scooted the bar stool forward, and pinned her between my legs and the edge of the bar. Instantly, she was nestled firmly into my crotch, and I knew that she could feel my hardness against her. There was no room for her to lean away.
It was my turn to have some surreptitious fun. My hands were hidden below the bar, so I reached inside the long slit of her dress and softly stroked up and down her leg. I began to mimic the movements on her thigh that the woman next us was making on her man's rigid cock. I had every intention of taking it just as far as she might.
I took another sip of my drink at the same time as Sandra. Before she lowered her glass, I pulled her tightly against my now throbbing hard-on and raked my fingernails up along the inside of her thigh until my fingertips reached her naked pussy lips. She gasped and sloshed her drink as I caressed her labia, which were swollen and wet with her excitement. I have always loved how wet and swollen she gets when she is aroused. The wetness of her juices that immediately soaked my fingers made it obvious just how turned on she was.
"Trouble, lover?" I quietly teased. "Having trouble multi-tasking?"
I didn't really expect an answer, as I had begun rubbing my whole hand over her swelling pussy lips, doing my best to try and render her speechless with pleasure. As I did so, I continued nonchalantly sipping on my martini. Before long, I felt her knees weaken, and I was rewarded with a low moan.
"Holy shit!" she gasped. I thought she was responding to my ministrations, but I was wrong.
"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the couple.
I glanced over to see what had caught her eye and distracted her from my attention. What I saw failed to register at first. What I didn't see was what made me do a double-take. The woman had seemingly disappeared, leaving her partner sitting alone and casually sipping his drink.
Sandra once again dug her elbow into my ribs and exclaimed in a whisper, "Oh my God, look!"
It took me a moment before I noticed the top of the woman's head just above the man's lap. She was on her knees, under the bar, with her mouth wrapped around his cock, vigorously bobbing her head up and down. I simply stared.
"Holy shit!" I repeated, more loudly than I intended.
Sandra quickly shushed me, and placed her hand over my mouth.
It was quite a sight. Only a few feet away from us, the women was stuffing her mouth full of her partner's rigid cock, and giving him a full-on blow job. I had no idea if anyone else saw what was happening. If they did, it certainly didn't seem to have fazed them. The party carried on without a pause as the couple to our right continued their sexual escapade, right in the middle of a crowded bar.
It was incredibly erotic watching them. She was clearly enjoying herself. With great gusto, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and licked up and down its length, pulling his turgid fullness into her mouth and softly moaning. She stroked him in concert with her head and body movements. Above the bar, he leaned back on his barstool, with his arms resting loosely on the edge of the counter, and with a slight smile on his face. Below the bar, he was rocking his hips, thrusting in time with her sucking motions. Only his progressively increasing rate of breathing gave away what was going on below the counter.
At first we didn't think either of them knew we had been watching. But when he rotated slightly in his chair, giving us a better view, he smiled directly at us, I was sure he'd known all along that they had an audience.
Sandra gasped, sounding guilty, and then shuddered with excitement. Clearly thrilled at being caught being a Peeping Tom, she resuming grinding her hip and ass against my hard cock. This time, I groaned and thrust back against her. If I had any lingering doubt about their exhibitionism, it vanished when the woman looked us both in the eye and smiled, with her mouth still filled with her partner's cock.
It was my turn to feel the thrill. An electric shiver ran through me, and I slid my hand back through the slit in Sandra's dress, and up the inside of her now wet and naked thighs. I could feel her juices running down her leg as her excitement mounted.
"Mmmmm," I murmured in her ear, pulling her close and running my tongue over her earlobe the way she enjoyed.
"You like that don't you?" I whispered. "Watching her suck his big, fat, swollen cock? Do you like it when I do this, too?" I slid my fingers up and down her wet pussy and over the hard nub of her clit. Her knees buckled slightly, and her weight shifted into me.
"It looks like she enjoys having her mouth filled with cock as much as you do. Keep on watching and I'll keep on rubbing."
Our neighbors shifted their positions again - apparently, so that they could see us better. Sandra was obviously as turned on by being watched as she was by watching. She pushed my leg out of the way so that they could more easily see what I was doing to her. The man inhaled sharply, and his partner's eyes widened. She sucked his cock with even greater enthusiasm. I slid my finger deep into Sandra's grasping pussy, rubbing firmly on her G spot.
"Oooh," she moaned, intentionally loud enough so our audience could hear.
She twisted in my lap, rubbing her butt against my aching cock. As she turned, the slit of her dress shifted directly in front and gaped wide open. Her swollen pussy was now fully exposed, which seemed to please the watchful eyes of our voyeurs. I slid my fingers out and ran them up over her clit, sending another bolt of pleasure through her body, and making our watchers both shudder in pleasure.
"This is so hot," I groaned, with my lips inches from her face.
It was obvious that Sandra agreed with me. She was thrusting her hips against my hand, meeting my strokes as I penetrated deep into her pussy. Each time she drove her hips forward, I felt her butt cheek rub my now throbbing cock, causing my arousal to build along with hers.
The couple next to us picked up the pace of their activity in sync with ours as we all watched each other. The woman moaned continuously as she pumped her man's cock, while her eyes were glued to Sandra's dripping pussy, as my fingers furiously slid in and out. I could see the man's knuckles whiten in a death grip on the edge of the bar as he neared orgasm. Sandra's breathing grew ragged as her own climax neared. Her warm and slippery wetness poured out over my hand as she thrust aggressively against me.
"Cum for me," I rasped against her cheek.
I don't know who came first: he or Sandra. I felt her shudder hard, and every muscle in her body clinched in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm washed over her. Her head arched back against me, her eyes closed, and her mouth fell opened slightly; the very picture of La Petit Mort, and a mirror image of our neighbor as he came forcefully into his partner's mouth. Through the rush of the blood pounding in my ears I could hear him groan loudly through his climax.
I had been unconsciously holding my breath all through Sandra's gloriously long climax. At last, I let my breath loose and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her orgasm wafting up powerfully from her pussy. My gaze was locked on my gorgeous wife, and I adored the sight and feel of seeing her in the throes of her "little death."
I didn't notice the woman stand up after finishing off her blow job. I did see her smile, with a thin and creamy film of her man's cum on her lips, before she took a big swallow of her drink. I smiled back, but was otherwise speechless. Before Sandra recovered and either one of us could say anything, both of our neighbors turned and wordlessly slipped into the milling crowd that still surrounded us.
The bartender leaned toward us pushing two fresh drinks our way. He too smiled broadly.
"I thought you two might need these," he said, and winked.