Paradise Rediscovered

Idling around the pool I asked you about Lisa, where, what, who, a bit more pressingly than I had before.

You dodge, pass the encounter off as a welcome catch up with a friend, a nice chance to revisit a pleasant part of your past, or at least as pleasant as one's early 20s can ever be with the angst that goes with that.

But I press on, until you blurt out with exasperation.

"Why are you so curious all of a sudden- you've heard me talk about her, how we used to hang out - none of this is new."

Methinks she doth protest too much.

"Ah, maybe not, but it's the way you guys have caught up, I say laughingly.

"You seem so, well, so into each other, like it's more than just friends..."

I trail off, careful about where I am taking this enquiry.

Glancing over I catch you blushing, something rare, if I didn't know you I would mistake it for the warm sun on your face, but I know that's something you love, and has not made you redden in all the years I have known you.

"Well, maybe there was something there, you have to remember, I was a late starter with guys, and I did feel I had to experiment from time to time, that is until the right one came along..." you say as you look meaningful at me.

"Really? I could barely contain my interest.

"So you, you actually played for the other side for a while, and she was on the same team?"

There was a whole vista to my wife's sexuality opening up here that I had never even known about, much less asked.

"Well, Lisa does like boys too, hell, she's even been married, I didn't even know that," you muttered the observation with a hint of disdain.

"And at uni, did you guys make a thing of it quite openly, no problem?" I asked, doing the maths in a social time frame and thinking it was the late eighties, so not that liberated.

"Hell no, we would just catch up when we could. And I have never made a thing of it to you, I always thought you'd be, I don't know, maybe a bit embarrassed by me for it?"

I am touched by your embarrassment after all these years of being together, of how much we have done, and know of each other.

"Hell honey, no, look, there's no accounting for who we were, who we are now -- people change, their attractions, their needs, I know I'm not the guy now I was back then."

Various blurred memories of dodgy encounters with unfamiliar females in student flats after too much mutual beer consumption momentarily seize the bandwidth of my brain, none of it particularly pretty- certainly not as appealing as the image of my beautiful wife lying in the arms of an equally attractive female friend.

"So you're not mad, or anything, at me?"

"Hah, far from it -- I am glad you told me, it's an intriguing new aspect of you I never, ever knew about.

"Actually, I admit, it's a bit of a turn on, thinking of you guys together, you would have made a very appealing couple, at least from a guy's perspective, and you know what I think about two girls!"

You gently slap my shoulder and offer a reproachful look, but as I mockingly rub where you hit me, I see that look become more thoughtful, more searching.

"What then would you think about it if Lisa and I were to, well, you know...hook up for old times sake?"

You sort of retreat back into your deck chair, almost as if expecting the bang of a bomb after lighting a fuse, clutching your hands under your chin, knees drawn up.

"Really, are you just trying to see if that winds me up, or turns me on?" I ask.

But the more I consider it, the more I know it's the latter.

The thought of my wife getting it on with a hot woman, I can't even really conceive it as betrayal, hardly if I know about it, and even less so if the thought does a lot for me -- enough for me to feel my cock hardening at the assorted images it creates.

"Well, which is it?"

I feel we have reached some sort of nexus here, that my reply will define something beyond here, not only for this trip, maybe the rest of our married life.

I think about all the years ahead, my recent decision to keep them interesting, vital, alive and to not go stale in the way so many couples do.

"Well, yes, it turns me on, no question. She is hot, I won't lie to you, you have good taste I mean look who you married!"

"No, be serious."

"You be serious -- do you still have those feelings for her?"

"To be honest, yes, and it hit me like a truck when I saw her this morning. We never broke up, we just sort of drifted away, you know you get a job, she went overseas, it wasn't like it is now with social media. If you didn't write, and neither of us were writers, things just drifted, we never stopped caring for each other, there was no betrayal or bitterness, nothing like that."

I mull that over, how far that is from the 'on the spot, in the now' world we occupy today, almost to the point there are no surprises anymore -- at least for me not until this morning.

"If you were to ah, get together, how would this work, where does it leave me, us?"

The question hangs like a swing at the top of its parabola, waiting an answer guaranteed to ripple out.

You stare at me then a sexy grin breaks out on your face, obviously there's something at play I had not figured in your mind.

"Silly - we would ask you to join us! After all, isn't that what you've always told me was your fantasy -- you, me and a hot girl, a chance to see how that all works when two's too vanilla?"

I almost fall off the pool chair, lurching up to stare at you, not sure if you are having me on, or not -hoping not.

Now it's my turn to flush up, pulse rate surging and thoughts tumbling through my mind like washing on speed cycle.

I leap, blotting out the usual "what ifs" and analysis that inevitably clogs any spontaneity...

"Yep, lets do it - if you are prepared to share, then so am I -- I think we may enjoy ourselves more than we realise," I blurt it out, mouth before mind.

You gaze at me through hooded eyes, as if contemplating what could follow tonight, and glancing around I ease closer and start to gently stroke your pussy through your bikini bottoms, enjoying the warm wetness that quickly wells up, with little persuasion.

You moan and ease your legs apart on the deck chair, one foot planted each side on the ground.

We are tucked behind a bougainvillea bush, no one to see our encounter, so I slide my hand inside your bottoms, and lightly caress the near bare surface of your tightly shaved pussy.

You are obviously well primed by the thoughts of the encounter to come, thrusting your hips against my searching fingers that slip inside you, gently massaging your stiffening clit, sliding in and out of your apple pie warmth.

With my other hand I grasp a handful of your breast, rubbing a stiff nipple with my thumb and then slipping under the soft fabric of your bikini top to pinch it with thumb and fore finger as I bear down on your wet pussy with my other hand.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh, don't you stop now, I...am...cummmmming...!" you exhale as you do in a long ragged breath, soaking my hand in your fragrant juices.

My cock has welled over the band of my boardshorts and I grab it, as stiff as a steel rod, and pump it, slickened with the juices I have rubbed down its length from your pussy.

Only three easy stokes and cum gushes out, spurting over your thigh as I fiercely milk my cock, rubbing the engorged head against your leg, squeezing your tits in my hands through your bikini top.

"Look out, someone's coming," you whisper as a waiter glides past with an arrangement of cocktails.

I laughingly say "yes, that was me, didn't you notice?" as you cover up the evidence with your towel, quickly re-arranging your bikini parts to a semblance of decency.

You tuck a bare brown nipple back into the top, and snap the elastic of the pants over your puffy exposed pussy lips, all swollen and pink from your excitement.

"Come on, we should go and get ready for dinner, and tonight."

So, we gather our things, you wrap a sari around your waist and we respectfully make our way to our room, each grinning like teens at our very un-middle aged behaviour in the pool garden.

"You know, I said "I think we should buy completely into a bit of localism, and cook a meal tonight in our bure, rather than heading out- there's plenty of really fresh food around here, and it doesn't have to be particularly complicated...does it?

"We can mix up a Margarita each, maybe two."

"You had better make that three, given the things we have got planned," you grin.

Once again I stumble a bit at this new found lewdness -- whilst always up for a bit of fun, things had been a bit duller in recent years as the inevitable middle age crept quietly upon us, so it was refreshing to see this in you.

Again it struck me, it certainly must have been quite a friendship enjoyed with the lovely Lisa, and it left me doubly anticipating the evening ahead.

Back in the bure I gathered up some ingredients for dinner. I was thinking a traditional Balinese dish of Sate Lilit, marinated skewered and grilled meats with a spicy sauce, veggies and coconut milk, all served on fragrant rice.

The local markets were overflowing with enticing fresh produce, easily acquired, simply cooked and washed down with a bottle of their local brew, nothing would compare at any of the cheap eats locally.

"just going to jump through the shower," you call as I start preparing dinner, setting a jug of frozen Margarita made with duty free alcohol chilling in our small freezer.

Snow Patrol on the Bluetooth, margarita's in the fridge, my hot wife in the shower, and anticipating a visit from her equally hot friend...yep, I had little to complain about that fine tropical afternoon.

Just as I started skewering up the marinated chicken on the fragrant lemongrass sticks a tentative know came at the door.

"Hello, anyone home?" a woman's voice called.

"Come in, in the kitchen," I yelled back over the music.

I picked the clipped pace of heels on the tiles, and turned to see Lisa, all 5'9" of her, tanned, fit and stunning in a light cotton appropriately tropical patterned dress -- it floated about the tops of her strong thighs, barely containing the tight firmness of that butt I had tried to steadfastly ignore out in the surf this morning.

She flashed a bright smile as a greeting as I clumsily dropped my kitchen tasks to turn and give her a light kiss on her cheek, scented of jasmine and vanilla, sweet and clean.

"Hey, how are you, good of you to come, I hope you can endure a very Kiwi interpretation of Balinese cuisine," I offer.

"Any meal cooked for me is a welcome one, it doesn't matter by who, where or what -- it will be great, and I, I shall be grateful," she jokingly bowed in thanks, giggling as she rose.

Shit, only one minute 30 and I already liked this woman -- funny, audaciously attractive, fit and (guessing here), intelligent, it did not take a lot of dialogue to tell that in anyone.

"Ah, you found us, good to see you girl," you cry, stepping out of our bedroom.

You were looking stunning in a tight knee length black skirt, your curves nicely packaged to best effect, your feet wrapped in simple open toe sandals, nicely manicured toe nails a splash of ruby red against the pale cream of the floor tiles.

"Mmmmm, look at you, you haven't aged a bit you sexy thing," complimented Lisa, openly running her eyes up and down your body, pausing to look you in the eye with a sly sideways smile, something shared there I was not privy to, or at least not yet.

"Drinks time ladies - who would be for a sludgy Margarita?" A question I knew I did not need to wait for an answer to, as I poured the salty sour mix into our glasses.

"Cheers, here's to fun times," you toast, as you run your other hand up my arm, lightly caressing my bicep as you lean in against me, pushing yourself firmly into my hips, one hand on my ass, the other still holding your margarita glass as you plant a juicy, tongue-filled kiss on my mouth.

Your first sip of margarita echoes on my lips as your warm, wet tongue snakes around my teeth and caresses my own tongue -- we let them dance leisurely against each other in a wet embrace, tips rubbing wetly against one another lightly caressing one another.

I am reminded again how your pink tongue feels so much like your tight little clit, so wet and pointed when aroused.

The inevitable comparison ensures my cock fills and rises before we have even caught breath -- you clearly feel it, and ever so slightly push yourself into its rigidity, lightly rubbing your mons through your sexy tight dress. It only causes me to harden further and suck deeper on your mouth before my shaft's sheer rigidity demands we break apart.

"Ah, look at you two, making out like a couple of teens -- stop it, or get a room, or finish it here - you are making me jealous, and warm, just watching you," laughed Lisa, boldly refusing to look away from our display of intimacy.

"We can soon fix the jealous part, you know that don't you?" you assure her easily, unwrapping yourself from me and moving to hug her from behind, your hands gently framing her hips as you press against her firm body, your tongue out again, licking her brown, down covered neck.

"'scuse me, I had better see to the rest of dinner," I mutter as I move away bent over with my semi-hard on proving difficult to hide beneath my board shorts.

Back in the kitchen with safe refuge behind the bench I sip my margarita while working on the meal, managing to maintain my hard on as I continue preparing dinner. I am finding the frisson of an attractive, friendly female who is obviously so into my wife like another spirit added to the cocktail, putting this extra little buzz through every sip and glance that can't be switched off.

Looking through to the lounge through the bifolding doors I see you both sitting on the couch, deeply conversing as only good female friends do, obviously getting more than the shorthand version to each other on the past couple of decades.

I turn to the fridge to restock our glasses, the jug glistening and beaded with condensation as soon as it hits the warm air, an alluring tonic on a tropical evening. But what I see as I turn to the lounge prompts me to stop, placing the jug on the bench and just stare in deep, deep wonder and lust.

The lounge is strangely silent, your conversation has well stopped. That is because Trish is leaning into your mouth stealing your tongue from your throat, judging by the way her cheeks are pulsing and moving, while your own mouth is thrust up into hers while she gently cups your head in her hands upon the couch.

She leans over you, dark hair brushing against your cheeks, one a thigh each side of your hips, her sexy short skirt rucked up the top of her thighs as she focuses 100% on caressing your mouth with hers, sucking licking and brushing across your lips.

At one point she breaks off the kiss and just thrusts her tongue out, tracing the outline of your lips with its pink tip, leisurely licking around your pouting lips as she cups your chin with the fingers of each hand, almost appearing to be worshipping the symmetry of your face.

Then I notice it is not completely silent - between you small moans and sighs are exhaled. These are delightful little signals of pleasure between two people completely engrossed in one another, a world within the world.

For your part you gently clasp Trish's waist lightly rubbing her hips, moving your mouth to her sucking rhythm, allowing the near liquid caress of her tongue to build your pleasure levels as she breaks off to lick around your lips, you turn and gently nibble her ear lobe, ear ring and all, lightly tickling it with your tongue.

"Ohhhhhhhh my god this is good, it's been way too long girl. You have no idea how much I have missed these encounters," groans Trish, staring deep into my wife's eyes as you returned her gaze, your arms loosely around the back of her head.

"Mmmmmm, my husband is good, but still, you'd give him a good run for his money I think - but don't tell him that!" you laugh.

Sighing, Trish locks her lips on yours again, a deep, deep passionate kiss. They may, or may not know it and just be ignoring me, that I have watched this unfold from my pozzy in the kitchen.

My cock has swelled to a 90deg hard on as I lightly stroked it while watching the love fest in the lounge. I must have been a picture, my board shorts around my knees, margarita glass in the other hand, it must have looked more comical than pleasurable, but I was happy.

As I looked on, Trish reached down between you both and gently tugged your dress up, one hand lightly grazing over your lacy panties that she exposed, white and delicate against your lightly tanned belly. The ring on her finger winked as her hand stroked the delicate fabric almost idly as you both continued your deep kiss. For your part you pulled your arms from around Trish's head, and deftly unzipped the back of her tropical skirt -- she shrugged her arms out of it, sitting up from her focus on your face Trish let it fall down, revealing her breasts encased in a gorgeous half cup black lacy bra, and a seriously ripped stomach. Her deep brown nipples were barely contained and Trish's breasts swelled deliciously outwards from the small cups.

She wriggled with anticipation and leant back down as you bought your mouth hungrily towards the lacy feast. You lightly licked Trish's cleavage as she pushed her chest into your feasting mouth, rocking gently in time to your gentle tongue's massage. She gently squeezed her breasts together, the tight globes of flesh starting to lightly shine from your saliva and her own sweet sweat. Then you pop one nipple over its lacy confines and start eagerly suckling on it, nibbling and gently biting it to full tautness -- Trish's moans are deep and resonating, clearly enjoying the attention she starts stroking your pussy through your panties.

By now I had to put my drink down and reached for some peanut oil off the bench. Food preparation now well form my mind, I gently tipped some along the length of my semi-hard cock and proceeded to work it in with one hand. Hips thrust forward, I gently stroked the veined hairy length, gripping the bench with the other hand, completely entranced, the voyeur to this beautiful show of mutual passion.

By now my cock was at full height, barrelled and strong against my belly - it was a hard on a 21 year old could have been proud of.

I grabbed it by the base and gently squeezed, marvelling at how it twitched and surged further in diameter, admiring the swollen mushrooming gland that was gradually being exposed as the foreskin rolled back under the light lube of the oil. I resisted the urge to rush over and simply jerk off and shoot my creamy load over the two beauties engrossed in each other, instead continuing to gently stroke myself off.

Suddenly you look over.

"Hey you, you have been very quiet there, what's happening with our dinner?"

With my margarita in one hand I step from behind the bench, having ditched the board shorts, deciding we would not be needing those again for some time this evening.

"Seems I got a bit distracted by the company," I joked, giving the girls a clear line of sight to my achingly huge erection, casually sipping my margarita as I do.

"Holy shit, I have not seen that for some time," you exclaim.

Trish was simply quietly looking over at my semi-nakedness, eyes fixed on my deep red shaft that seemed to twitch with a life of its own, the single pink eye never straying.

"Come here you sexy beast, I need to look more closely at this," you urge me over as I casually move in, proudly rocking my cock in one hand, margarita in the other.