Summer Nights Ch. 02

Kendall moaned, releasing a string of expletives as I thrust my cock back and forth into her wet pussy. I spanked her right cheek and then grabbed her hips, admiring the way the water from the shower cascaded over our bodies. Kendall, my thirty-year-old wife of three years, had long thought shower sex overrated. But our plush hotel shower not only had two showerheads, it featured a built-in marble bench that, upon first seeing it this morning, I immediately imagined Kendall bent over, her hands flat on the bench, wet, naked and waiting for me. So, after a couple hours relaxing by the pool, consuming one margarita after another, and admiring the way Kendall's gorgeous ass accented her small, cheeky bikini bottoms, I was desperately horny enough to temporarily forget her past preferences. When we hopped in the shower to wash the stink of the pool off our bodies, I pulled her to me, desperate, bending slightly to match her height so I could run my cock between her legs and let her feel how I hard I was.

It turned out I wasn't alone. She matched my fervor, pulling my head down toward her mouth and pressing her tongue against my lips. With one hand on the back my neck, and the other on my ass, she pulled my body to hers. I reciprocated in kind, letting her ass fill my hands and caressing my hand down her arching back. The water fell down our bodies, following the slopes of her breasts before meeting my skin and chest as we made out with unabashed urgency.

She moved back against the wall of the shower and pushed my head down. I ran my hands down the sides of her body as I kneeled, gently taking first one hard nipple and then the next into my mouth and sucking. I continued kissing down her stomach and then to her pussy and thighs. Amidst the lingering odor of chlorine, I could smell her arousal.

For our vacation, she had gotten a Brazilian wax but left a little strip of hair just above her clit. I kissed around her thighs, occasionally biting her in the way I knew she loved, and running my hands up and down her legs, cupping her ass at the end. I pushed her up slightly with my hands and used the temporary elevation to reach back to the bottom of her folds and let my full tongue run slowly up her pussy, stopping just before touching her clit. A few more times I repeated that action, before taking her folds into my mouth and sucking, using my tongue to reach inside her tight hole to taste her. Starting at her perineum, I ran my tongue up her folds and making my way to her clit, circling and gently sucking on her clit the way I knew she loved. She ran her hand through my hair and moaned.

"Harder."

I pulled back for a moment and stuck my finger in my mouth, wetting it, before I went back to her clit. At the same time my nose touched her pussy and before I began sucking on her clit, I pushed a finger deep inside her hole--now leaking with her arousal--bending the knuckle slightly to rub against her G-spot. I began fingering her, in rhythm with the short, lapping licks I was delivering to her clit.

"I need your cock now."

She pushed me back and then, fulfilling my premonition from the morning, she bent over the bench, waiting for me to fill her from behind. I took a moment to admire the view. Her large breasts, dripping water, her nipples hard. The delectable arch in her toned back leading to the source of my torture for most the afternoon: her wide hips and perfect butt, now blissfully free of her bikini bottoms. I drew my eyes back to her face; our eyes connected. She lifted one of her hands to push a stray strand of wet, blonde hair from her eyes.

"Fuck me," she said.

I wet my fingers again, and ran my fingers up her slit, making sure it was still wet enough for me to push inside her, and then briefly teased her asshole with my thumb. As I pushed slowly inside of her, letting her pussy get used to my size, I watched as she re-balanced on a single hand so the other could rub her clit as I fucked her. Once her wetness had fully coated my cock, we kept up a feverish pace, both of us focused solely on coming. The tight, enclosed space of the shower filled with our moans.

"Spank me. Hard."

"You like that," I groaned, as the sound of my hand spanking her ass filled the marble shower.

"Again, fuck. Harder," she gasped, "You feel so fucking good inside me."

Her right cheek was starting to look rosy, so I next spanked her left cheek, feeling, as my palm met her ass, her pussy contract around my cock. I moaned, my balls tightening in kind.

"I'm getting close," I said.

"Me too, don't stop. Come in me."

I kept up the pace, constricting my muscles to time my climax with hers. I could tell, by the way her hand was rubbing harder and faster on her clit and her uncontrolled moaning, that she was close to coming. I couldn't hold myself off much longer.

"I'm going to come in you," I moaned.

"Yes! Fuck me, Dan. Fill me. Fill my pussy. I'm going to come with you, fuck, fuck--" She trailed off in pleasure.

I groaned, filling her up with my come and feeling her contract around me, pulling me deeper insider of her. Her breaths deep and ragged, her skin flushed. I slowly pulled myself out of her, a white deposit of cum where my cock once was. She turned around and collapsed onto the bench, and I followed suit. Our cheeks were red, our breath heavy, the water still falling all around us and steaming up the bathroom.

"Holy fuck, that was good," she said, "I might need to reconsider how I feel about having sex in a shower."

"Or we need a bench for our shower at home."

She ran her hand up my thigh and brought me in for a kiss.

"We better finish cleaning up, they'll be back soon."

The "they" Kendall was referring to was Emily and Ryan, who were traveling with us on our mid-summer Caribbean vacation and who we shared our expansive two-bedroom suite with. Despite the ample room in the suite--including dining, kitchen, and living areas--the resort had, in a questionable design decision, positioned the two bedrooms so that the beds shared a wall. When we checked in that morning and surveyed our rooms for the week, Emily had joked about hoping the walls were adequately soundproofed. Knowing Kendall, I thought, we would need more than just soundproofing to keep Emily and Ryan from hearing us.

I checked my phone as I dried off. We'd been in the shower for some twenty-five minutes. When we left the pool, Emily and Ryan said they wanted to stay longer, but I figured they'd be heading back to our rooms soon. I pulled on my boxer-briefs and then laid back on the bed, as I watched Kendall, wearing nothing now but a tiny little tan thong, pull out her hair dryer.

***

It had been a few weeks since I had revealed to Kendall my experiences with Dylan from over a decade ago. Dylan was the first, and only time, I'd ever had a sexual relationship with a man. Relationship might be too strong; we effectively were just fuck buddies that heady summer, using each other to occasionally scratch our needs. It was an experience that I had half-forgotten, half-suppressed, having decided long ago that it was something I would never tell anyone else about. Whereas female bisexuality is often fetishized by mainstream culture, male bisexuality is rarely presented favorably, and I felt straight enough that I chalked it up to experimentation. We both had gone to separate colleges following that exploratory summer and fell out of touch. In college, I exclusively dated women and, in fact, as far as I remember, never even thought about another guy sexually.

Confessions, though, I've found, have a way of unearthing more than expected. Particularly when I had a wife as deviously curious as Kendall.

She, of course, needed details.

What about Hannah, Kendall had asked. Did you keep seeing her? Did she ever find out? How many times did you and Dylan hook up? Was that the only time or were there more? Did you guys ever have sex? Did you ever hook up with anyone else? The questions often came when we'd been out on dates, enjoying good food and good wine, and the conversation, naturally, drifted to sex.

I did my best to answer her questions, feeling freed in a way to talk about experiences I realized I'd never fully processed. I explained that I kept seeing Hannah--and yes, preempting the question I saw forming on Kendall's lips, we did eventually start having sex--but we kept it casual and fun, a summer fling we both realized would end with the end of summer. I didn't ask about anyone else she was seeing (though I was pretty sure she wasn't seeing anyone), and she didn't ask me. I told Kendall that having sex with Hannah was exciting and sexy--nothing, of course, compared to her, I was quick to add--and she was adventurous and unashamed of her desires, which, of course, prompted a smirk and glance from Kendall that conveyed a knowing dominance. Always competitive, Kendall would take stories about former lovers as an open invitation to reassert her place at the top of my sexual totem pole, as it were.

But, despite that, there was something about messing around with Dylan that scratched a different itch, I told Kendall. It was taboo (at least in our unprogressive town), secret, different and, because of that shared bond, intimate in a way that sex with Hannah wasn't. Nothing in our outward behavior changed; Dylan and I remained friends, but not close, and would see each other occasionally at parties but never went out of our way to talk to each other in public. Instead, we would sneak over to each other's houses when our parents weren't home. The pretext of watching porn together long forgotten, we would move straight to making out, feeling each other's hardness through our clothes. We'd move to a bedroom and starting masturbating next to each other, occasionally helping the other out with our hands or our mouths.

I told Kendall that we'd never actually progressed to having anal sex, though, I admitted with some sheepishness, we tried. He'd admitted he was a virgin, and he'd asked if I wanted to try with him. We had fingered each other, so it seemed a natural progression. We didn't have actual lube, so we made do with whatever we could find around his house, which, looking back, was an elementary mistake. Despite our efforts, he was simply too tight, or I was too big, or both, and it hurt him too much as I tried to push inside him.

By then, it was almost August and we started preparing to head off to college. We saw each other a few more times, but then went our own ways. And that was that.

***

Kendall was still working on her hair, and I realized I had gotten hard again, lost in thought. She looked at me in the mirror and then made a pointed glance at my now visible hard on in my boxer briefs.

"Ready again for me so soon?"

I was about to say something when we heard the door unlocking and the voices of Emily and Ryan entering the suite.

"Hey guys! We're back," Emily shouted down the hallway. "We're going to rinse off."

"Ok, sounds good, we just finished showering and I'm getting ready," Kendall said. She'd quickly thrown on her robe and was talking through a crack in our door. "We still good for dinner in an hour?"

Emily said yes, and then I heard the door to their room close and the shower start.

Kendall closed the door and walked over to me, letting the robe pile at her feet and the mischievous grin I loved so much spreading across her face.

"I need to do my makeup soon, but think I can make you come with my mouth in the next ten minutes?"

***

After Kendall had expertly made me come for the second time that day, I threw on a linen shirt and some matching shorts and went out into the living area of our suite and grabbed a beer from our fridge. Ryan joined me soon, freshly showered and similarly dressed in light linen clothes. I noticed he'd gotten a slight sunburn from the extra time at the pool.

Him and Emily were similar in appearance to Kendall and me. Both Ryan and I were dark haired, and Emily and Kendall were blondes (though Emily's was more natural colored). I worked out frequently and had generally maintained the lean frame I'd had from years of playing soccer and running. Ryan, it had turned out, also was a runner and we'd occasionally jog together on weekend mornings or, more lately, play a match of tennis at the courts near our houses. All of us were in our early thirties and we'd met last year when Kendall and I moved into our first house together. They were our neighbors, and, we soon discovered, a delight to live near. Like us, they were childless and were determined to have as many good times as possible before that changed--hence the Caribbean vacation, which we spontaneously agreed to a month ago as we drank and barbequed in their backyard.

Ryan and I sat around in the living area chatting while our wives finished getting ready and dressed for dinner. Kendall was the first to emerge. My mouth fell as I took in her dress.

"Hi boys, what are we up to out here?"

She twirled for us. She was dressed in a white romper, contrasting perfectly with her tanned skin, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. The romper was backless, and the straps, attached to a lacy, low-cut top, only barely supported her large breasts. The cotton bottoms, with a subtle flower pattern, were no less modest: they barely reached a quarter of the way down her defined thighs--accented by heeled sandals--and appeared almost transparent. Whether she was wearing a bra and underwear or not, I would have to find out later (I thought not). I stole a glance at Ryan and saw that Ryan was having a similar reaction to Kendall's revealing outfit.

"Waiting for you, of course," I said, "You look gorgeous."

"Why, thank you. You two clean up nicely as well. Emily should be out soon, too, but, in the meantime, how about a little pre-dinner champagne?" She walked over to fridge, pulling out a bottle of champagne we'd had room service bring in earlier as well as four champagne flutes from the cabinets. As she popped the cork, Emily emerged.

Emily was wearing a paisley print dress, almost sheer, that was as short as Kendall's romper. Her hair, like Kendall's, was done up in a bun, highlighting her neck and collar bones. The V-neck on the dress plunged downward, revealing her ample and tanned breasts, and, when she similarly twirled for us, we saw that her dress also was backless. Kendall let out a wolf whistle.

"Damn, girl, you look hot!" Kendall said, as she finished pouring the champagne into the flutes. "Cheers!"

We all held up our flutes and clinked the glasses together before taking a long swill of champagne.

"Well, boys," Kendall began, wrapping her arm around Emily's waist, pulling Emily into her, and giving her a small kiss on the cheek, "Are you ready to take your hot dates out on the town?"

***

Dinner was a fun affair. We were giddy with the newness of being on vacation and enamored with the location we had chosen--a treehouse-styled resort nestled in the jungles of a Caribbean island, with its own secluded beach down a sandy path. Conversation flowed easily all through dinner. The restaurant was outdoors on the edge of our resort, surrounded by tiki torches, and sat nearly on top of the beach. Gentle waves lapped at the sand. We had an isolated table over near the edge of the roped-off area. All too easily, it seemed, we'd finished three bottles of wine as the last course was taken away. But I, at least, was at the exact right level of drunk and, judging by Kendall's animation and excitement, knew she was, too.

"That was one of the best meals I've had in some time," Emily said. "Great fish."

"Should we grab another bottle of wine? Or we can go grab drinks by the pool bar?" I asked.

"Unless they need this table, I'd say we stay here. This is perfect," Kendall said.

When our waiter returned, he confirmed no parties were waiting for the table and they'd be happy for us to linger. We ordered another bottle of white wine and, after he filled our glasses, Ryan lifted his glass and proposed a toast.

"To Kendall and Dan. You two are great friends, and we are so happy we got to meet you this last year. I think I speak for both of us when I say, this vacation is exactly what we needed. Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

"I will say, I do feel like we got extremely lucky. We've never--some, maybe, eight or so different apartments later--had such good luck on our neighbors," I said.

"Or had ones as sexy," Kendall muttered, just audible enough for everyone to hear.

"Hey now, if you're not careful, I'll think you're trying to pick me up," Emily responded, with a knowing wink at Kendall.

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Just make sure you're well-rested," Emily said without skipping a beat.

We all laughed and took another sip of the wine.

"No, but joking aside," I continued, the alcohol having the typical effect of making me more loquacious and open. "A lot of our friends now have kids and are harder to see and connect with. It's already hard to meet new people at this age, and it's nice, well--actually, it's great--to meet another married couple that are like us and easy to be with and get along with. Really, now that I think of it, I don't remember having one disagreement on what we would do this week or where'd we stay or how much things would cost. Effortless, in other words."

"Totally agree, this will be a fantastic week and it all came together so easily," Ryan chipped in. "But, to change topics a bit, while you mention it, I'm curious where you two are on the kids question?"

"You know, if it happens, I think it happens and we'll be happy, I'm sure. But I don't think either of us actively want kids at this moment. I guess, we like our freedom to do what we want when we want a bit too much to think about giving some of that flexibility away so quickly," Kendall said.

"I feel the same way. My sister has a little three-year-old girl, a total delight and we love her. But I have to say, every time we finish visiting with them, I am always exhausted. And I look at Ryan and say, not ready for that full time," Emily said with a laugh. "My sister's boobs did get huge when she was pregnant. That side benefit, I wouldn't mind."

"I think you're doing just fine as you are," my wife responded, with an appreciative--almost lusty--glance at Emily's cleavage.

"I am more than satisfied, don't worry," Ryan said.

Emily blushed slightly, and then said, "Plus, you know, having kids around seems like such a downer on your sex life. I'm in the prime of my life, I'm not ready to slow down, you know. I'm already cranky and irritable when I don't get my eight hours of sleep. Add a baby onto that and, well, who knows what might happen. Well, actually, I know what won't happen."

I'd been quiet throughout this exchange, feeling the effects of the alcohol and the lingering arousal seeing my wife--and Emily, too--in their revealing summer dresses, but saw an opening to move the conversation toward more interesting topics.

"So, you two have been married about the same amount of time as us. I always like to compare notes. How do you keep it fresh?"

My wife laughed. "Always Dan with the serious questions."

"Nah, I think it's a fair question," Ryan said. "Obviously we're very happy with each other; it's clear you two are as well. But I think it's natural to have ups-and-downs, you know. The first year of marriage is incredible, I think, and then you start slipping into routines and roles, sometimes unconsciously and forget to check in with each other. So, for us, I think, being proactive about the relationship and having honest communication with each other have always been the priority. And it seems to all flow from that."

Kendall and I were nodding along.

"We've seen too many of our friends get trapped into complacency about their marriages and their lives and go on auto-pilot and forget that a relationship takes work," Emily said, picking up the thread from Ryan. "So, we both agreed that we'd always be open with each other and tell the other the things we were thinking or feeling. Even if we were scared it would hurt the other. Because I think we both agreed, we're in this for the long-haul. We're no doubt going to hurt each other at some point in our lives, that's inevitable. But it's way better, I think, to be hurt by words, which can be explored and talked about and considered, than by actions, which are permanent.