Memory Lane

"It's an all-inclusive."

They both laugh, George looking at Rebecca as they do.

"It doesn't include this," George half-whispers.

I can see Becky's disappointments as she shakes her head.

"He's right,"she says. "We can't spend that much."

George looks back at Dave, then back towards us.

"I guess I could give you another friendly gift," as he places the baggie back on the bed.

"I don't know if we can ask you do that," I hear myself say. "This is...money out of your pocket." Another wave hits the shore, briefly drowning out the piped in flamenco music that's omnipresent tonight. In the darkness see George's silhouette breathe deeply.

"You could just give us a gift back," says George, still looking at Rebecca.

She cocks her head.

"How about you do a line off my hand again..."

"And?"

"And Dave and I each do a line off of you?"

Rebecca makes a not-so-sure sound.

"Just so we're all clear, this is not turning out to be a good week for Dave and me," he says, wide-eyed as he looks back and forth between us. I actually feel for them on that front. "So just to be clear, when I say do a line of Becky, I mean do a line off Becky topless."

I get the feeling Dave is gauging my reaction in the darkness, so I work to keep a poker face, but I want to go. This is getting pretty weird. I look to Becky, but she's looking back at me.

"What do you think?" She asks it, but they're all looking at me.

"Yeah, Georgie, we don't want to do this if you're not okay with it. Friends here," George opens his empty palms up to me.

"I don't know," I say.

"I get that," George says. "I mean, she's your wife. I get that." Over the palm trees, back at the resort, I hear someone on the PA system organizing a limbo contest. The wind blows on the beach, pushing the hem of Rebecca's dress in my direction.

"Can I ask you this, Georgie?" George says slowly, pauses. "And I ask you this with plenty of respect."

The wind stills.

"How was she last night?"

I breathe in deeply. Dave and George both start laughing.

"I told ya, Georgie! I told you," he slaps me on the back.

Rebecca smiles at me, and it feels like she's looking more proud than embarrassed. What the hell. It's vacation. Work and school seem like they're located on a different planet.

"You weren't kidding," I say and their laughter explodes again. All the tension that surrounded us flies out over the ocean.

"So, everyone is good with this...arrangement?" George asks. She nods. I nod.

"We should go first, I think," he continues. "Me and Dave. That way she gets her line last and then you guys scoot back to the room and do whatever you did last night."

Rebecca smiles over at me. I like the moon's glint off her eyes and the silhouette of those curls against the blue-black sky.

"But better," says Dave.

"Yeah, better. We'll give you a little more tonight, Becky. Since you're doing this for us," he says warmly as he reaches out a hand and she takes it. He guides her to the middle of the bed and she lies on her back. Dave is curled up near the top corner of the bed on his side, looking down on her and within reach to run his fingers through her hair if he was so inclined. I glance out at the ocean and the hundreds of bouncing white lights riding up on it.

George puts one knee on the bed, his baggie on his hand, looks indecisively at her dress.

"So how do we...," he waves his hands around confusedly, not seeing any place to facilitate her tits coming out.

Rebecca giggles a little then sits up and pulls her dress down below her bra, then lays back on the bed.

Dave clears his throat.

"Um, that's going to have to go, too, Becky."

George looks back to me to make sure we're all still good. I nod that we're cool.

"It clasps in the front."

"What, Becky?' We all look at George, who's staring at her cleavage, which isn't in short supply for a girl her height. "I was...um...distracted."

George laughs as his own joke, then Dave and I join him.

"It clasps in the front. You can unclasp it," she tells him. She glances over at me. I smile at her.

George leans down on one elbow and reaches his hand to her sternum, finds the clasp and undoes it pretty quickly.

"I haven't lost my touch," he laughs. "Been out of practice at this place."

I hear a few people roar at something that happens at the limbo contest.

The cups of Rebecca's loosened bra still sit on top of her breasts. George reaches to move the right one back, revealing her tit in the darkness. I can see him bite his lip.

"Oh, Becky."

After maybe ten seconds, Dave reaches down and pulls back the left cup, then fingers her nipple. George slaps it away as I notice the whiteness of her roundness catching the moonlight, her nipple jiggling in the aftermath.

"Easy man, don't be ruining the deal."

He smiles as Becky, then back at me.

"Lucky man, Georgie."

He pours a little white powder on her left areola, then her right, then he presses his nose down almost onto it and inhales it all. When it's mostly gone he then sucks her nipple into his mouth, cleaning off what's left. Rebecca works hard to stay still, not disturb the powder on the left one. As soon as George leans back, Dave rolls over and sniffs at her left nipple, then licks it clean with his tongue as a follow-up. He claps his hands and makes a woo sound as he sits up. Rebecca sits up and smiles at me. I glance down at her bare tits and back at her. She remembers she's half-naked and clasps up the bra and slides her dress back up.

"Was that so bad, Becky?" Then George answers his own question: No. He pours a little bigger hill of powder on his hand again and holds it out to her.

For the second night in a row she puts her face in his hand and she again sniffs it off, her eyes looking up at him, then closing as the powder rises into her nostrils. He pinches her nose when she's finished and she smiles up at him before getting up, reaching her hands out to me and George to help her up.

"Better get her back to the room, now, Georgie."

We're not waiting. She waves and I salute them and we're walking the same route again, second night in a row. Their laughs and cheers fading as we find out way back onto sidewalks.

We both undress the second we get in the door and I push my face between her legs, my tongue as deep into her hole as I can get it. I slip one hand under her ass, finger her asshole while I lick her pussy lips until there's no more taste. She's bucking a little against my face but motions like she wants to flip over. I let her, and marvel at her tight round buttocks as they face me.

"You like my ass?" she says into the pillow. I pause, my breathing fast.

"You know I do."

"You like it, Georgie?"

I roll my eyes at that, but rub my hands on her butt cheeks, occasionally spreading them to see everything.

"I know what you like," she says, still talking to the pillow.

"What do I like, Rebecca?" I want to hear her say it.

"You know what you like. Go ahead."

I like licking her asshole. I like it so much. But she's gotta be really drunk or really trying to make up for something, and she's never told me I can do it before, she's just let it happen. I stick my face between her cheeks before she can say anything else, my teeth slightly scraping her inner cheeks as my mouth opens and my tongue runs in circles along her hole before it pushes into it. She's talking the whole time.

"Do it, Georgie. Lick my ass, Georgie. I'm yours, baby."

I keep my face in there as long as I can. As long as I have air. Then I lean back on my knees and violently grab her hips, throwing her over onto her back.

"Ooh," she coos, impressed and approving.

As I rebalance myself I notice the curtains are open to the sliding glass door that faces the ocean. A key walkway through the resort goes right by us, and only a sheer white curtain partially obscures our bedtime fun from the couples walking by. But at the moment I don't care.

I climb onto her and slide into her, I go to suck her tit but she grabs my head with both hands.

"Don't."

Time freezes, us looking at each other, both our chests heaving, her more impressively.

"Why not?"

"I don't want my ass on my tits." I smile at her with a sense of accomplishment, but her next sentence takes it away.

"Plus, you don't want their spit in your mouth."

I wish that memory wasn't still in her mind, and I work to push it out of mine while I'm watching those beautiful babies bounce towards me and away from me as I slide in and out of her. Having them this close but not being able to kiss them is pure torture. I reach up to touch one, but she grabs my hand, raises her eyebrows.

"No, Georgie."

"Why?"

"You let other men kiss them, lick them. So they're off limits to you tonight."

She holds my gaze, reinforces her point.

"You lost your rights tonight."

I don't know what I think about that, but my dick has heard enough, the tingling in my groin quickly growing into an explosion of cum firing inside her, her hands pressed against my chest, pushing me away as my liquid streams inside of her. I start to slow down, start to collapse on top of her.

"I haven't come yet."

Oh shit. I always let her come first. I never do this to her.

"Fuck, Rebecca. I'm sorry, baby. I lost track."

My hand brushes some curls from her forehead. The look she gives me is a cross between disappointment and pity. She glances over at the luggage.

"We brought the vibrator, right?"

I nod, jump up and find it in the suitcase, bring it back, where she turns it on and slides it down between her legs, her eyes closing. I curl up next to her and slide a hand up and down her thigh as she works the vibrator like a conductor. Facing the sliding glass door, I think I see people standing on the pathway, peering in from afar, but I'm not sure, and I'm not going to mess with her orgasm a second time. Once, I forget and reach to pinch a nipple but she says no again, pinching her own left nipple as she finally comes, letting the vibrator sit in place for another twenty seconds before turning it off and silently heading to the shower. She comes back to bed and kisses me goodnight, falling asleep within minutes. I lay there a lot longer, confused why I'm still awake.

Tuesday afternoon we're back at the beds, me half-reading my book, but also considering the events of the last few days. This trip has been a crazy one. Probably the best sex we'd had in years; it reminds me of when I was first dating her, a college senior with a boyfriend in her thirties, lying to her parents about where she was spending the night. Her shaving and reshaping her pubic hair to fit my whims, desperate to hold my interest.

So, the sex has been great but our conversation has been missing. Each day we talk a little less. My guess is our minds are both on what's been happening, neither comfortable enough to talk about the pros and cons, neither wanting to rock the boat. Neither wanting to hear the other - or themselves - say they don't want to do this anymore. Becky is reading a magazine in her black bikini.

I'm nervous about last night. I didn't like losing rights to her titties, even though I know she was playing games. It was a hot game. But I'm not wanting to play it again. I consider bringing it up, but on the beach doesn't sound like the greatest venue for that discussion. Rebecca is drinking two drinks for each of my one this morning, the sun disappearing behind dark gray clouds, then reemerging intermittently.

Around four in the afternoon, the clouds win out. It starts to rain and we can see the thunderstorm in the distance. It's coming our way.

As we both start to silently pack up, the boys come walking by.

"Becky and Georgie, what's up?"

"Hi guys," I wave. "Think the rain is."

I hold out my hand to catch a drop.

"Yeah, gonna be rough tonight," says Dave. "Hi Becky."

She smiles, folding up a towel.

"Don't think we'll be out sitting in the rainstorm tonight, Georgie," George is shaking his head at me.

"Oh well," I say. I'm ready to step back for a day anyway. This makes it easier.

George puts his hand on Rebecca's shoulder for a second, rubs it.

"You guys want to come over to our room for a while?"

"We were probably going to take a nap," I decline. I notice I'm doing all the talking.

"Take a nap later, man. Come over for a while," George says as looks at Becky. Then he speaks directly to her.

"You guys coming?"

She looks at me, starts nodding. Again, I'm in the corner of being the wet blanket. I finish my beer and nod back.

We hold hands all the way over, walking behind them in the light rain.

"Love you, George," she says, those blue eyes looking up at me as we trudge into a puddle on the walkway.

"I love you, Rebecca," I say, making sure to look back at her.

"You like the name Becky?" She looks up at me again. We walk two or three steps, the water suddenly covering our feet. I shake my head.

"I don't."

We get to their room, almost as far away from ours as it could be and still be on the same resort. It looks like ours only bigger. One bedroom that ours doesn't have. The rest of it just like ours, a king-sized bed facing the sliding glass windows with a couch and couple chairs between it.

George goes to sit on the couch, invites Rebecca to sit next to him. Dave passes out beers from the fridge, then sits down on the other side of her closest to the sliding glass door, leaving a chair for me. I sit down facing the three of them.

"Can you believe it's Tuesday already," Rebecca asks. "Vacation is halfway over."

"It's not a great vacation," says Dave. "We didn't realize there'd be all couples. Sucks planning all this, then getting here and there are no available women."

"You could still change resorts," I say hopefully. I'm ready for them to be gone.

"Too late for that," says Dave, sounding more ominous than I would think he should. "A bunch of rich guys and their hot wives, George and my faces pressed up against the glass."

A lightning bolt hits and the thunder follows a second later. George is looking outside.

"Looks bad out there."

"It does," I agree.

"You guys'll probably be here awhile."

Becky is looking outside at the clouds and the rain when George reaches out and pulls on the string tying her top together in back.

"Hey," I say, leaning up.

Becky turns around, realizes what's happened, instinctively pulls her arms up to keep the front of the bikini in place, her back hunching slightly.

"That's not cool," I say. George stops leering at her back to turn his head towards me.

"Come on, Georgie. You've been getting laid every day," he says, waving his hand towards Dave and back, "and we've been helping make that happen."

I look at Rebecca, who's looking at me, arms still pressed up to her chest. Dave shifts in his seat to turn more towards her.

"Yeah, we've been starting the engine then tossing you the keys," says Dave, then he smiles, looks over at George, "And last night you didn't do so well."

George laughs quietly, looking at Dave then returning his gaze to Rebecca's bare back.

Dave's looking at me now, and I realize George is carefully working the bikini top out from between Rebecca's arms and her breasts. He laughs a little more, concentrating on his work, sliding the material up into the gap between her wrists, then sliding the entire top towards him.

"Yeah, you finished way too fast, Georgie. Left that girl alone with her plastic machine. Her green machine."

Becky is blushing and makes big eyes at me as Georgie frees the bikini top completely. Rebecca's forearms press tightly against her breasts. I'm worried she might cry, but she really looks calm.

"Guys, we're gonna go," I say, standing up. Dave stands up, too.

"You can go if you want, man," then he looks back towards my wife. "Rebecca can make her own decision."

Behind her, George rubs his hand on her shoulder.

"We've got lots of blow, Becky," he says soothingly as his index finger traces a shoulder blade. "What else you gonna do on a rainy Tuesday afternoon?"

Dave sits back down, facing Becky. He reaches out and takes her wrists in his hands, slowly but firmly pulls them away from her so her arms are in his hands, resting on her lap, her breasts completely exposed. Dave says something to her I can't quite hear. I see her smile and say thank you. After a few seconds, she turns her head slowly over to me as Dave's puts the backs of his fingers on her right breast.

"What do you want to do?" She asks, then waits for me to say something.

George leans over and kisses her on the shoulder, doesn't look my way.

"Don't have to ask him, Beck. What do you want to do?"

She's still looking at me. I consider stepping towards the couch, but I feel like they aren't going to let me make the decision. I shrug my shoulders.

"It's up to you."

Her face darkens with disappointment. I wonder if she wanted me to say something. I wonder what that something was. She turns her face down and away from me, looks down at her own legs. Then she turns and looks over her shoulder at George. I notice Dave and I are both hypnotized by the gravity-defying nature of her tits.

"Sounds like I'm staying here a little while," she says, then looks over at me then to Dave, who's still staring at her tits, brushing his fingernails against one.

George smiles, first at her, then at me. Then Dave stands up and quickly George does, too. He leans over and picks her up into his arms. I notice for the first time that despite the fact he's not tall, he's pretty muscular. It occurs to me I can't take either of these guys in a fight, let alone both.

As George holds her in his arms, feet closest to me, I can also see her face.

"Are you sure you are okay with this, baby?" She looks at me, and he pauses for me to answer.

I hoarsely whisper that I guess so. Then George swings her around so she doesn't face me, just her black hair and bare alabaster back. He carries her over to the bed, lays her down, then kneels at the bottom of the bed and peels her bikini bottoms off of her. He turns and tosses them to me, and I sit back down in my chair, craned around to see what's going on.

Dave tosses him the little plastic baggie. George catches it and pulls it open. He pours a pretty large amount on her pubic hair.

"I like that bush, Becky."

"Thanks," she says, her eyes on him then making contact with me, where they stay until he buries his face into her damp, curly hairs, her eyes shutting and back arching slightly suddenly, as his tongue no doubt slips between her lips, her juices coating his mouth. Dave walks over to the far side of the bed and steps out of his bathing trunks. Then he picks up the baggie and taps my wife on the shoulder. She opens her eyes and looks up at him.

Get on all fours, he says, then works to pours some coke onto a credit card that had been sitting on the end table.

Rebecca obeys him, turns over and climbs onto all fours, dislodging George's tongue from her pussy in the process. He looks deep into her as she repositions, breathing faster. Then he climbs onto the bed and gets on his knees, his hands caressing her ass as Dave holds the credit card under her nose and she inhales deeply. George enters her from behind and starts sliding in and out, and I wonder if the guttural moans she's making are from the cocaine rush or from his cock. George thrusts into her just a few seconds before Dave holds his erection in front of her face, pressing it between her lips and onto her tongue. I notice her nipples are fully erect, pointing towards the mattress below her. I start to ask about condoms, but what's the point.