Catering for a Stag Do. Ch. 09

Dave was looking into his open safe, there were a few business documents and the two incriminating DVDs from the Stag Parties, but his eyes were resting on the eight and a half thousand US dollars they had received in tips at Bob's function.

They only had a few bookings for January, which was a relief, as they had had functions coming out of their ears for the last three months. He transferred his attention to their function book and checked the details of those two bookings. Both bookings were simple, and he knew Sally could handle them, as they were both on the weekend, and Adam liked to help out to be with her on the weekends.

It would be a good time to take Trish on holiday. With that in mind, he picked up the phone and called a friend who worked at travel agents about booking a week or more in Bora Bora. His friend promised to get back with a quote in an hour or two. 

Dave had asked about French Polynesia, as he and Trish often talked about Rufus's story of him and his wife with a pop band there. They had also played out that scene in their bedroom on more than one occasion in the last six months. Also, Trish spoke passable French, so he thought that might be helpful.

Their role plays were an established part of their sex life these days. But Dave wasn't sure he wanted to have Trish taking part in another group gangbang. But they had discussed finding a man so he could share Trish in a threesome. Trish wanted dave to be part of the action in their next sexual adventure.

They talked extensively about what sort of partner would be acceptable. Trish was not just looking for sex; she wanted to be seduced, wined and dined and taken out of her comfort zone, where she had existed for the last twenty years. She was up for trying new situations but did not want cheap, quick sex. Unfortunately, they had no luck finding anyone, but Dave thought the opportunities could be better on holiday.

The travel agent returned his call later that day, saying he had a deal in Moorea, Tahiti. He explained to Dave that Bora Bora was very popular, expensive and always packed with tourists. That was unless you could afford to stay at the most exclusive of their resorts there. He had found an excellent deal for ten days at a very smart resort on Moorea for a much more reasonable price, with overwater accommodation that would usually be way out of their reach. "You will get a better class of guests there, as it caters for a wealthier clientele," he explained.

Dave confirmed the trip with him and asked about using US dollars to pay. But the Travel agent told him that would be poor economics. "You change the money into NZ dollars to pay me, meaning you lose in the exchange and then have to change NZ money into French francs up in Tahiti. Much better to save your US dollars to use in Tahiti, as you'll get reasonably good rate there."

Dave transferred the money and raced home early to tell Trish what he had booked. He wasn't worried about the kids. One of the grandparents would love to have them. And Trish didn't start back teaching until the end of the summer school holidays in early February.

They stepped off their Air New Zealand Flight in Papeete a week later. And when the taxi pulled up outside their beautiful resort. They thought they had arrived in heaven. Once they had checked in, the porter led them past the pool and bar complex and onto the overwater walkway to their bungalow. Their bungalow was the second one out from the beach. Most of the bungalows appeared unoccupied, as only a few private decks had unpacked furniture.

Once settled in their room, Trish grabbed a handful of the US dollars and headed for the shop. Half an hour later, she returned with a white bikini and a Turquoise cover-all. The cover-all was not the sort you wore from the shoulder, but a much smaller one that was all the rage around the pool, a thin piece of material that you just knotted at the waist. The bikini, much to Dave's surprise, was tiny. There were some around the pool that were even briefer, but it was minuscule compared to anything Trish had ever worn in the past.

 Mid-afternoon saw them perched on day chairs around the pool, Trish working on getting some good bikini lines. Dave was checking out the ladies around the pool. He had noticed a couple of ladies sunbathing topless down on the strip of beach that their overwater bridge crossed. So he hinted that they moved their chairs to the beach so she could sunbathe topless.

Trish's response was predictable, "Good try, mate, but I'm not going topless; you just keep perving on all these other ladies by the pool."

Time just flew; they tried all the activities, kite-sailing, windsurfing, etc. But most of the time, they spent by the pool, drinking and savouring the fantastic food. It took Dave two days to convince Trish to go topless, and once she had done it a couple of times, she became pretty used to it and worked on getting those beautiful breasts a golden brown like the rest of her body.

But they had not seen any guys in the resort that looked like possible candidates for their nocturnal fantasies. Of course, plenty of men were interested in Trish, and eyes followed her every time she walked around the pool. But the men that did pluck up the courage to talk with Trish all seemed to have a wife glaring at them from the other side of the pool.

With only four nights left off their holiday left, they woke to another beautiful day. After breakfast, they grabbed their beach gear and took up a spot on the lawn next to the pool. They had both resigned themselves to the fact that no illicit affair was likely to happen. But they were far from disappointed. Their holiday had been relaxing, and they had had great sex in one of the most idyllic settings on earth.

They Arranged their deck chairs facing away from the pool, looking out towards their bungalow. It gave them a little privacy if Trish wanted to slip her top off, and they loved the view of the sea.

The resort deck chairs were wooden and in two parts; the main body had an adjustable backrest and a separate footstool that locked onto the main chair body with two small pins. It was a good idea; far easier to shift around, and you could use it just as a chair if you wanted and have the footstool as a table. By this stage of their holiday, they knew the ropes and would get a spare footstool from another setting and place it between their deckchairs for their drinks and nibbles.

Midday, Dave had gone to the lunch bar and picked up some food. On the way back with it, he noticed a guy turning his chair around to perv on Trish. The guy was with two mates that were facing the pool. They were new arrivals. He had noticed them being escorted to a cabin when he and Trish were at breakfast that morning. He wondered if they were day guests as they only carried small duffle bags.

The guys stood out from the other guests. They looked to be military, and Dave thought they could be special forces, as the other guests gave them a wide berth when they walked past. They all looked to be in their thirties, extremely fit and athletic.

Dave sat in his chair and laid the food down on the footstool. He glanced towards the pool, pretending to check out the bar, and sure enough, the guy was checking Trish out. Dave leaned over to Trish as they ate their lunch, "Don't look around. I think a guy is watching you. I will go check out the shops and see what he does. I won't be long and will bring you back a drink."

 Trish made to object to his leaving, but Dave stood up and walked away before she got any words out of her mouth. He looked in the shops for a few minutes, then headed upstairs, knowing the restaurant had huge ceiling-to-floor windows looking over the pool and out to the main beach.

No one was in the restaurant, which was just as well, as they wouldn't have been impressed with his beach shorts and flip-flops. He crossed the dining floor and looked around the edge of the window frame, taking care not to show too much movement. Sure enough, the guy had already joined Trish and sat opposite her on the edge of his deck chair. He was talking animatedly with Trish, and Dave noticed she seemed relaxed and interested in the guy's conversation. He also noticed that the guy's two mates were still sitting by the pool but constantly glancing over their shoulders to check his progress.

 Dave pulled up a chair and sat back far enough that only his head would be visible from down below. The guy said something to Trish, and she burst out laughing. Again the guy leaned forward to speak, and Dave saw that he put his hand on Trish's knee and stroked down her calf lightly as he continued talking.

Dave looked around the pool to see if anyone else was noticing but could see no one taking any interest. Then, shifting his attention back to Trish, he saw the guy lift her leg, compliment her and run his hand from ankle to thigh. His hand ventured a little high, and Trish stopped him, glancing around left and right to see if anyone noticed.

The only people looking were his two friends. He traded some comments with Trish and then waved them over. Dave noted again that by how they moved and held themselves, they had to be special forces. The two guys broke up their deckchairs and brought the bodies over. They sat down on either side of Trish, and introductions were made. The guys all gave her the European kiss on each cheek, and he thought he saw hands bumping against her breasts as they leaned in to kiss her, but maybe that was just his active imagination.

He wondered if it was time to return but was enjoying sitting and watching, it was satisfying his voyeuristic nature. The first guy stroked her leg again, leaning in, telling her things that had her laughing. It was fascinating watching this; the guy was good, and every response he got from Trish gave him the license to move his hand and stroke a bit higher along her leg. The strokes and subtitle touches seemed to relax Trish as he saw her legs involuntarily part. Then the guy moved his hand right up onto her crotch; she grabbed it, glancing around and trying to push it away. But he kept his hand there for a bit, laughing and patting between her legs, before sliding it back down to her knees. Dave realised it was time to get down there and check if she was okay.

When Dave reached the pool, he saw that Trish was talking and smiling, and seemed at ease again. So he diverted to the pool bar, picked up two Pina Coladas, walked over, and sat on his footstool alongside the guy paying Trish all the attention.

Trish sat up and introduced everyone. He learned that the main protagonist was Jacques, and the other two guys were Rennie and Pierre. They were Gendarmes, more accurately from the SOS (Special armed offender's squad), and they were coming to the end of their two years secondment, from the Paris police. They were based in Papeete and out on Moorea at a two-day rugby sevens tournament.

They should have been staying at the hotel where the tournament was taking place. But there had been a cock-up, and their room had been double booked. So they had been put up at this more up-market resort. The other team members were still all lodged at the event hotel. However, they had won all their matches the day before and one that morning, so they only had to return to the event the next day for the finals.

While all this was being discussed, Dave noticed that Jacques had resumed stroking Trish's leg. He could see that Jacques was observing him for a reaction.

"I see that you are a man that likes to see his wife happy," Jacques said in his sexy French accent.

Dave just nodded at him, "Yes. I like her to be happy."

Jacques lifted his hand higher up the inside, almost to Trish's bikini bottom. "I think you like to 'watch' her being happy, too." He said, giving Dave a knowing look and moving his hand higher, brushing his fingers over the gusset and circling them around her mound.

Trish reacted immediately and caught his hand, lifting it away.

"If she is happy, then I am happy; this is more about her, not just me." Replied Dave.

"I think you also get a lot of pleasure." And he leaned forward and undid the tie on one side of Trish's bikini bottoms and ran his fingers under the hem, back between her legs.

Again Trish grabbed his hand and tried to remove it, but he held firm. 'There is no one watching us, ma chérie. Let me have but a moment." And he flicked the side of the bikini out of the way, so she was exposed and ran his finger through her slit. As he pulled it away and lifted his fingers to his nose, a thin viscous string of her lubricating juices stretched out two inches before it broke.

He held his slick wet fingers out to Dave, "I think she is excited, and although she objects, I think she is very happy and aroused."

Dave had been concentrating on Jacques's hands and had not noticed Rennie lean forward to shield Pierre from any eyes at the pool, but he saw now that Pierre was playing with Trish's breast and pinching on her nipple through her bikini top.

Pierre said something in French, Jacques replied, then spoke to Dave, "He does not speak any English but says her nipples are very hard, and her breasts are the firmest he has felt in many years."

Suddenly Trish gave a spasm of pleasure and sat up, "God, this has gone too far. Not out here; someone is going to see." And she grabbed the side of her bikini and started tying it up again.

Jacques took her hand, stopping her, and asked, "Shall we go to your room or ours?"

Trish responded, "I think Dave and I need to go to our room now and get ready for dinner." Obviously, meaning just the two of them.

"Good," replied Jacques, "We have been wanting to see in an overwater bungalow." 

Picking up Trish's drink and handing it to Dave, he said, "You take Pierre and Rennie to the room. I will wait a minute with Patricia, then bring her separately. It will look much better."

Dave hesitated, unsure about Trish's response. Did she want this? Her words indicated just the two of them, but at Jacques's instruction about going separately, she had looked Dave in the eyes and laid back on the deck chair, so he took that to mean she was accepting Jacques's directive.

Dave saw sense in walking past the pool separately, and though he was nervous about leaving Trish with a stranger, he was ablaze with amoral thoughts of what would happen when they got to their room. The usual knot of concern was twisting his guts; how could he live with his abhorrent acceptance of what these individuals would do to his wife? But his arousal was overpowering, and he just turned and led Rennie and Pierre to the bridge that led out to their bungalow. When they stepped onto the bridge, he turned to ensure Jacques wasn't absconding somewhere with Trish.

 Dave pulled up short; Jacques had Trish by the elbow and was walking her around the top of the pool in the opposite direction. With a sinking feeling, he made to run after them, but then he saw Jacques steer her back towards the poolside bar, then directly towards them before he could move. Dave realised Jacques was parading her past everyone seated around the pool. He had not let her do up the bikini tie, and Trish was clasping the strings of her bikini tightly in her hand.

Jacques stopped Trish in front of the pool bar. She was trying to shield herself with the beach bag she held in her other hand. He took the bag from her, and Dave didn't have to read his lips to understand what he had said to her.

 "Stand up proud. You are magnificent," with a wave of his hand at the people around the pool, "Everyone here desires you. Look at their eyes; they are praying that you will let those strings go."

With a quick motion, he flicked her hand away, and the bikini dropped open, revealing the whiteness of her bikini line and a flash of her black pubes. She blushed crimson red; he caught the strings for her, then let her grab hold of them again before moving again towards the bungalow.

Rennie spoke to Dave in heavily accented English, "You have a beautiful wife. She is truly magnificent. I think she is that actress, you know - Demi Moore."

Dave just nodded; he had heard this comment many times before. He turned, opened the door, and followed Pierre and Rennie into their lounge. They moved straight to the couch and sat at either end, leaving a space where they expected Jacques to deposit Trish.

Dave turned back to the door to await Trish. However, when he turned her from the bridge to their bungalow, he stopped her and pulled her hand away from the strings. The bikini fell open, but Trish clamped her legs together to prevent it from dropping off entirely. Jacques held her arm and waited. Finally, when she looked at him, he said, "We will wait here until you let it drop."

Trish blushing red, opened her legs and let the bikini bottom drop to the deck, then made to cover herself and run for the door. But Jacques held her, "No, I need to present you properly to my friends. And he reached behind her and undid her top, then stood waiting for her to remove it. Trish hesitated and realised she could not move until she was naked. She snapped her head around to see who was watching, bent her head forward and lifted the cord from around her neck up over her head, and let the top drop to the deck. Before Jacques could stop her again, she shook herself free of his grip, held her head up and proudly walked past Dave into the bungalow.

Dave poked his head out the door to see who was watching, but no one seemed to be taking any notice, apart from two guys sitting at the bar. He turned to watch Trish, with her head held high, move elegantly across the lounge and sit between Pierre and Rennie. Jacques followed close behind her, removing his speedos as he walked.

Pierre and Rennie each took hold of her legs, pulled them apart, and watched Jacques drop to his knees and lower his head between them. Trish sucked in a sharp breath, closed her eyes, and groaned as Jacques's mouth enveloped her sex.

Dave moved over to stand behind Trish on the couch, and reaching over, he took each of her nipples between thumb and forefinger, eliciting a groan of appreciation. They had agreed that if anything happened on their holiday, he was to be involved. 

Pierre and Rennie began shedding their shirts and shorts, and when naked, they sat down on each side of her again, Rennie nibbling on her ear and Pierre pushing one of Dave's hands away and taking her nipple between his lips. Rennie ran his tongue down her neck, then up again to her mouth, where he waited for a second for Trish to open her lips and let him kiss her.

The previous two times he had watched Trish taken by other men, the kissing always upset him the most. But this time, he could see little emotion in the kiss; it was just about sensations. Rennie searched out her tongue, and Trish finally showed some enthusiasm and kissed him back. Pierre wasn't nearly so subtle; he was now using his teeth on her nipple and had dropped a hand down to rub her clit.

Dave tried to calm his beating heart, settling back to watch these three men assail her stunning body and feed her newfound craving. Then, when Rennie dropped his head down to Trish's other breast, Dave leaned in and kissed her. She flung a hand behind his head, pulled his mouth against her lips, and eagerly searched his tongue. 

Kissing Trish passionately, he watched Jacques probing her with his tongue, and when he withdrew and pulled back, her hips followed, searching out the relief she desired. Dave was concerned, as Jacques would nibble at her, then nip down on her clit with his teeth and pull back. But he could see he wasn't hurting her, as her hips lurched after him each time he nipped and pulled away.

When Jacques sensed she was ready, he rose and pressed his purple knob against her slit. Dave watched, mesmerised, as Trish pushed her hips at him, the lips parting around his knob and sucked him deep inside her.