Resort Stay

You would never know it to look at her, but Christine is a mother of three. Don't get me wrong, there's no way I would say she had a perfectly flat tummy or the body of a model. She's more like that woman down the block that all the guys pause to glance at on a Saturday morning while doing their lawns as she strolls along, generally with a kid or two in hand. She doesn't even think she's pretty, just "okay, for a mom." The guys, I have to guess to a man, kind of grin and wonder what it would be like to jump her bones. She doesn't "do" anything, it's just my wife out for a walk with the kids, but her hips naturally sway and almost call for eyes to follow.

She doesn't even dress to get attention, just mom shorts -- likely cut-off jeans at mid-thigh-- and a tee-shirt, and that's invariably loose. She "hates" tight clothes. Yeah, she always has a bra on, except around the house, but her wonderful 36 B's do draw attention. Her little muffin top is cute, almost sexy, though she hates it, and she thinks the ten pounds she has put on since our marriage is horrid. Probably eight of that went to her hips adding an amazing curve to her ass and hips, not saddlebags, and the other couple to her chest to make them very full.

She was a very pleasing full A when we got married, but her still firm and proud tits are now Bs. No one knows, but her areola are darker than when we first met, her nipples puffier. "What do expect after three kids?" she laments, but they are perfect and quite responsive still. I have never been focused on tit size, I'm much more interested in if a woman likes them touched, or sucked, and how she reacts. Chris's breasts are super responsive and she's anxious for my hands or mouth to enjoy them and bring her pleasure.

She doesn't work out, though as a nurse she's on her feet all day constantly moving in a very busy office, chasing three kids at home in the evening and on weekends seems to keep her weight steady and everything from being loose and wiggly. We're a fairly outdoorsy family, so there al lots of weekend trips to parks and nature hikes with the whole gaggle; me, three kids, a dog, and the sundry items that come along in bags and backpacks, and one off-road stroller. The baby -- yet another girl, God help me! -- is just four so she rides. The other two, almost nine and just turned seven, walk, stumble, and wander through our trips merrily.

"I hope the girls are being good," she says out of the blue. "What time is it at home? Can we call to see if everything's fine?" she asks in rapid succession.

I glanced at my watch, shading it from the bright sun as we had finally made it out to the beach. "Go ahead and call if you want to, it should be about eight. Remember, just add six hours to whatever time it is here."

Here is Maui, our first vacation alone in, well, since our honeymoon. That honeymoon had consisted of a two-day drive to an inn in New England in a second-hand piece of crap that used almost as much oil as gas. But we were young and crazy in love, and it was all we could afford. This trip was almost as inexpensive, though we were in much better straights financially, as Chris' airfare and the majority of our terrific hotel room was covered by her work, as was the cost of the week-long seminar. We only paid for my flight and the difference between a single rate and what our suite cost. Chris' mom was watching the girls, so no cost there.

Chris grabbed her phone from her beach bag and dialed, shading her eyes with one arm. I watched some woman walk past in a thong, which Chris noticed also and mouthed "Oh, my God" with a big eye roll before she shifted her attention half-way around the world with a happy "Hi, Mom!" and got into chatting about the flight and talking with her mom. Our minds were in different places.

Don't get me wrong, Chris could give that woman, pretty much any woman, a run for her money in a stroll up the beach, if I could ever get her out of her "mom" suit. Even in what she was wearing, she'd turn heads. It wasn't one of those dumpy things with the little skirts and "tummy control" that honestly never hide the tummy they were designed to hide, but it was a pretty plain one-piece with formed cups and fully lined. While shopping for the trip, I had tried to get her to look at bikinis to no avail, being told she couldn't wear something so little (these were not small by any stretch of the imagination), and was shot down just as quickly when I picked up a few unlined one-pieces that "would show everything!"

To be frank, Chris could wear a burlap sack and still turn me on. After almost twelve years together and three kids, I still get hard just spying her getting ready to shower or lying in bed in a tee shirt (her preferred outfit for sleeping). It takes nothing to get her "in the mood," she's very participative in our sex life and enjoys sex immensely and often, but that's "for home."

She's not one for PDA beyond a kiss -- but not a deep passionate type -- or holding hands. She hasn't dressed seductively outside of our bedroom since we got married, but she really can pull it off when she tries. I guess I should say she hasn't focused on lingerie and sexy outfits, but as all she wears to bed is a tee-shirt I certainly don't complain. If we're just hanging around the house, she'll stay in the tee-shirt most of the morning and I get plenty of glimpses of her lovely ass and her dark bush.

Some women who do attempt to put on sexy outfits to set a mood then move like drunk chimpanzees on a tilt-a-whirl completely undermining their objective; when Chris moves in a tee shirt, she was Venus come alive, sensual, hot, alluring, and nearly insatiable though she always left me wanting more. The next morning, however, it would be mom mode again, even if she's sitting at breakfast in her tee-shirt with her bare ass showing. "That stuff" was just for us, besides, "no one would be interested in seeing this old body naked" she'd tell me, though she was glad I still liked how she looked, - "after three kids" she'd always add.

In college, bras weren't always on her need-to-wear list, which I was happy with. And more skimpy and clingy clothes were part of her wardrobe, though I wouldn't say she was anything like an exhibitionist. She knew I wanted to show her off, but there was only one occasion that happened, after three years of dating. And I was told I could never bring that up again, not even in the heat of love making. No, she didn't put it out there for others, not even close, but she seemed more comfortable in her skin back then, and with much more of it showing.

I don't know if it was some hang-up with how married women are supposed to be, or how moms are supposed to be, or that she was concerned about how others in a professional setting might perceive her. But hell, the way she works a tee-shirt, who needs more? She'd had some escapades as a young woman and was no virgin when I married her, but there was a change to a less overt sexuality once we married. I guess she figured once we were married, she didn't need to do "sexy" anymore, for me or herself. She was right, of course, all she had to do was inhale and she'd have me ready for action -and she was, it still seemed, always ready to make love.

I have never wanted or felt deprived...well, never wanted for longer than it took to get home, and the girls to bed, the house locked up, and us to get to the bedroom. There, she was an uninhibited vixen, happy to explore and try things. She might raise an eyebrow and say "really?" but we have a wonderful sex life, fulfilling as I could have ever imagined.

I looked over at Chris still on the phone, now with one of our girls. She was smiling and happy, laying back on the lounger with her legs stretched out and resting her feet off the end of the chaise. As I heard her say "of course we'll be home for your birthday, my little angel," my mind drifted to four years earlier and the birth of our youngest.

We were living in central Arkansas at the time where I'd been transferred to supervise a big civil engineering project on a military base, a huge stepping-stone for my career. Chris had gotten a job in the local county hospital, a pretty small twenty-five bed facility that let her work a flexible schedule so she could get our two other daughters after school and be there with them everyday. It wasn't a super tough job, but let her build her resume too, and kept her busy far from family.

The third child came quicker than the other two had. The plan had been to have her OB and a nurse there, she didn't want "the whole hospital" involved as she had to work with these folks every day. "we need to keep this private. I don't need anyone seeing my hoo-ha other than my OB" is how she put it. We ended up in the ER at nine in the evening, two weeks prior to the due date. The older two girls were at home asleep already when I called and told the sitter we were heading to the hospital, she agreed to spend the night.

We got in and Chris told them she thought the baby was coming, but that it was early. The nurse checked her and said, "Yep, you're having this baby tonight. No time to set up the delivery room." The next thing we know Chris is on a bed in the ER, the OB has been called, and we're told anesthesia is on the way. In this whirlwind, Chris has been changed and is now robed in just a hospital gown. She's lying on a bed, a gurney, feet toward the hall, and gripping my hand as another contraction hits her. All I'm worried about at that second is that she and the baby are going to be alright, when in walks an older guy who says:

"Hi, Dr. Somebody, I hear we're going to have a baby."' That was the introduction, as he turned to the sink and quickly washed his hands. "Let's have a look," he said next as he pulled Chris' gown up to her knees, moved her legs apart and peered into her privates.

"Hmmm," I hear him say, and he puts his bare hand to Chris' exposed femininity, touching her. Now Chris has an old-timey respect for doctors, you just do as they say. I thought this was a little abrupt, but as she didn't object neither did I.

"Looks like you're fully effaced. I'm afraid you're going to have to do this without anesthesia," he stated matter-of-factly, patting her knee.

"What?" we both asked in unison. "Where's Dr. Ghaddi?" Chris added.

"Ghaddi's on his way, should be here in about twenty minutes. I'm anesthesia, and at this stage we're too far along. You'll just have to do this natural," he finished, patted her knee again and walked out. I do remember that he stopped at the door and looked back at us.

Chris looked at me and said, "I can't do this natural," her forehead wrinkled in concern.

'Support' is rather funny, and completely dependent on one's point of view. My response, meant as support was to take her hand and say "Guess we don't have a choice. We can do this."

Lightening bolts flew from her eyes. "You're not doing shit. I'm having a baby!" Tears filled her eyes and I felt helpless. The ER charge nurse came in just then.

"Hi, Chris. Dr. Pittsfield said he thinks you're a bit too far along for anesthesia. I'm going to check you, alright sweetheart?" as she snapped a glove on her hand. With her bare hand on Chris's one knee, the other slips beneath the still hiked up gown and up to Chris' body. I remember the nurse keeping her eyes on Chris' face even as another contraction rolled through her.

"I'm afraid he's right, Chris. You're fully effaced and at about 3 centimeters with that last contraction," she informed us as she pulled off the glove and tossed it in a nearby receptacle. "Dr. Ghaddi is on his way, should be about twenty minutes," she smiled reassuringly.

Chris blinked a couple times, clearing her eyes. "Thanks, Sandy."

"You'll be fine," she reassured her. "Anything you need?"

"Drugs!?" Chris asked.

Sandy smiled again. "Anything else? No, okay, we'll be checking on you regularly. Press the call bell if anything happens."

With that, Sandy was gone. Chris was sweating and trying to breathe steadily. I just held her hand quietly. Another contraction hit after a bit, just a little one this time, her eyes closed and her forehead wrinkled. Then she laid back and breathed deeply.

An orderly appeared at the door. "Anything I can get you?" he asked with a smile. That's when I noticed it consciously for the first time. Like Dr. Whatever-his-name-was, this kid wasn't looking at us, he was focused on the area between Chris's spread legs. And I could see he had no interest in the fact that she was having a baby, he was looking at a beautiful pussy! Yet, strangely, I said nothing, but just smiled at him and looked at Chris. She shook her head. "No thanks, I think we're fine." The kid, he couldn't have been twenty, never looked away from where his eyes were glued.

"Okay, ah...thanks," he replied and stepped out of view. Well, at least he said thanks.

It wasn't a minute before another orderly appeared in the doorway. This was an ER room, from the doorframe to the foot of Chris' gurney was maybe four feet, and another three to her dark, displayed womanly treasure. I could literally see his eyes light up! If you've been to an ER, you know they are well lit -- the docs and nurses have to be able to see everything clearly -- so I knew there were no shadows or imagined sights, these two kids were looking at Chris's pussy unobstructed.

"Everything alright in here?" he asked with a dumb grin. The grin disappeared as Chris let out a grunt as another contraction grasped her body, but he stayed right there looking at her privates. Momentarily distracted, I didn't answer but held Chris' hand. He stayed there, staring, until she relaxed back into the bed then he turned and left.

I recall being rather embarrassed, not for Chris but because I was essentially letting this happen. I could have pulled the curtain around or tugged her gown down. There were folks walking back and forth in the hallway, glancing in, some doing double takes. I was aware of that, and I was pleased. Here she was having a baby, without anesthesia, and I'm letting her be seen by anyone passing through!

"Chris, Joe, I hear the baby's on the way!" Jack Chandler's voice said as he stepped through the door, a big smile on his face. He stepped right to the foot of the bed.

Chris' eyes went wide with surprise. "Dr. Chandler, what are you doing here at this time of night?"

Jack was an Internal Medicine physician, Chris' direct boss who she worked with everyday in the hospital as he saw patients and took care of various responsibilities under his purview.

"Very nice," he said nonchalantly looking between Chris' legs. He glanced up at me, making eye contact and added, "looks like everything is progressing as it should." I had the distinct certainty that the "very nice" had nothing to do with the progression of her labor, but he just smiled and then rested his hands on Chris' knees. "How are you doing Chris? Feeling alright?"

I know I should have been angry or said something, but realized I was turned on by this man, his hands on my wife's knees as she lay naked in front of him. He worked with her everyday, and I would never worry that he could ever make a pass at Chris or an inappropriate action that she wouldn't reject immediately. From the moment we started going out, I knew she loved me absolutely. I would have gone off on him myself if I heard or suspected such a thing, and I knew Chris well enough to know that by the time I heard about it there probably wouldn't be much left of him for me to beat up. Yet, in that instant, I could feel my cock beginning to rise, stimulated by the fact that he was seeing her pussy.

"So everything looks good to you, Dr. Chandler?" Chris asked. What?, I thought, was she, did she realize this was Jack, the guy she worked next to everyday, and he wasn't looking at her like a doctor, but as a man?

Jack took more than a few seconds looking between Chris' open legs, I could swear memorizing her most intimate details as his hands remained on her knees. If this guy had walked up to me and asked to see my wife's pussy, asked to hold her knees open as he looked and lusted for her while standing between her legs, I'd have ripped his throat out. And Chris would have applauded afterwards.

"Looks perfect," he smiled at her. My erection was full blown, and I could see his pants were tight also. "Of course, I'm no OB-GYN guy," he added again making eye contact with me, a knowing grin turning the corner of his lips.

Chris had a small contraction at that moment, sitting up and opening her legs even wider. Jack didn't move, just left his hands on her knees and his eyes on her pussy. I just watched him watching her, aroused.

"Well, looks like you're getting close," Jack said a moment later. "I'm sure Vin will be here anytime. I should leave you kids alone and head back home. I'll come by to see you tomorrow, okay?" He patted Chris' knee and turned to head out. In profile, there was no doubt he was hard -- or had a flashlight in his pocket! His eyes were on mine as I raised my glance from his crotch. The corner of his mouth curled up and he gave me a slight little head nod, then turned and left. He knew that I knew. I should have felt like a heel, but instead was somehow proud, happy, and very turned on.

Chris would die of embarrassment if she realized, but I assumed in her current state sexuality was the last thing on her mind and I sure wasn't going to say anything.

Sandy walked in as I was adjusting me pants.

"Everything alright in here?" she asked snapping on a glove. Her hand went between Chris' legs. "How often are the contractions coming?"

"About every five minutes, now," Chris answered. I honestly hadn't even paid attention.

"Dr. Ghaddi should be about ten minutes out. You're doing fine, somewhere between four and five now. Anything I can get you?" as she pulled off the glove and left the room.

"Joe, tell me if you can see the baby yet?" Chris said, throwing me off.

"Huh?" I stumbled.

"Look down there and tell me if you can see the baby, dummy."

I know and adore Chris' body. She has thick curls of dark, dark brown hair. Her thin pink inner labia contrast so marvelously with that, protruding enticingly about two inches from her body when she is at rest. When aroused, they grow a deeper pink and become thicker, and glisten with her sweet juices. At the top of her cleft, where her labia part, her clit is usually barely hidden; aroused it's about the size of a pencil eraser, popping out from her hood and deep purple red.

"Sandy said the baby is coming soon. I don't think I'll see it yet," I protested. It was stupid, I had been there for the birth of the other two, had looked at her pussy about a gazillion times, never hesitating or passing up a chance.

"Look," she said with insistence.

I casually readjusted my pants again, as unnoticed as I could, as I stepped from her side to the foot of the bed.

Seconds earlier, her boss Jack was standing where I was now, looking at the same gorgeous, sensual pussy. Her labia were swollen, spread by the pressure of the child about to pass through. It might not be an easy passage, but by her muskiness and the wetness dripping from them, I knew it would be a well lubricated passage. At the top, like an LED billboard advertising her excitement, her clit was as large and pronounced as I had ever seen it, fully exposed from the rolled back hood. Part of the wetness I knew was from her exertion, but the rest of this.... My god, she must have realized what was going on and it had her aroused too!

"Well?" she asked.

I walked back to her side, my erection springing back to its previous state. "I love you," I said as I took her hand.

"I lo...uuuhhh" she started to respond as another contraction washed over her. As she arched, I noticed her nipples fighting the hospital gown seeking release. Moments later she lay back, squeezing my hand.