The Best Cums in Thirds

BEACH TIME!

Steve and I returned to the hotel by mid-morning. It is already in the mid-80's and the beach is calling. I change and scramble around the suite grabbing up beach chairs, towels, cooler to hold our staple of pre-mixed mojitos. Steve is waiting and ready so we bolt immediately for the sunny surf.

We could see people populating the beach so hustled to get the right spot for primo body surfing on the incoming tide.

We found our spot and settled in for yet another day in paradise. Immediately launching into a dash for the water, splashing wildly, we dove through the incoming wave and swam strongly for the break. As a former swimmer, I loved the feel of the warm, buoyant salt. Steve had been a competitive swimmer in high school so had no trouble keeping up.

Out that far without boards, the surfers looked at as though we were sea creatures that did not belong there. No matter, they would think differently once they saw us work the waves. We both wore special goggles and shorty fins to deliver the thrust needed to drive over a wave's crest. Our strong legs helped too just as they helped us with the other kind of thrusting.

After blowing out the pent up energy from the conference routine, we kicked back and refreshed with our mojito's for what promised to be an epic day. We had no indication the promise for an epic day would turn into an epic night.

An hour later we turned to a familiar voice calling out, "hey you studs, would you turn away a lady with affections and confections?"

What we saw coming towards us, bare foot through white sand was nearly as naked as her feet. Lynette was wearing a mouth dropping swishy see through chartreuse wrap over South Beach bit of string called a swimsuit. The threads with patches over nipples and pussy did little good hiding her equipment. Poor Steve, I thought to myself. He had no lover to release his tension. This was going to be a demanding day. Clear on his face was recognition of this fact. Oh well, like any survivor he probably had well developed self-satisfaction skills.

Lynette shed her wrap and with a flourish and pirouette to display her wares, tossing it to her waiting chair, saying, "You wanted me to look local! As you, command my master. What do you think?"

Oh, I replied, "I thought it was makeup you were wearing, but now I see it's actually fabric." With a chuckle, I continued, "You look stunning my love. See Steve drool?"

"Lynette, this is just plain insensitive and unfair," replied Steve. "If I paid you the complement I want, you would think me a cad. Oh. I am a cad. So then, I would like to pull those threads by my teeth and eat you."

At that, Lynette grinned and winked at Steve saying, "thank you, I'm sure you would find me delicious. But I warn you, keep it safe." Then she added, "You need a girlfriend to help with your tension and I may be able to help. Maybe we can talk about that later."

With that, I handed her a fresh mojito and tanning oil. After taking a long tall pull, she proceeded to apply it lavishly across ass cheeks and between her thighs. I wondered if Steve could see the depression of her love cleft as well as I could. No doubt, he could since my chair was between them giving him a more opposing view. Geez I thought. I love this, but pity him.

Over the afternoon, we finished our third mojitos and swam our butts off. A stray thought hit me and I had a good laugh, then after oiling my hands, picked up Lynette's left foot and began massaging it. Turning to Steve, I said, "Hey you do the other one and just follow my lead."

Lynette looked me hard in the eyes and I thought she might kick sand in my eyes, but instead laughed and said to me, "you bastard!" Then, relaxing into her chair closed her eyes and let the warm sun do its magic. Her enjoyment came out as an occasional, "oooh".

Though we teased her with the finger between toes trick, though I wanted to, we did not take it up her legs. However, her suit was wet and pressed to her flesh showing more pronounced pussy cleft and nipple definition. Damn, it was positively hilarious, and I found myself with a good solid boner watching it play out. Steve was also sporting a stiffy and I knew what he would be doing with it his hands later that night.

At 3:30, Lynette spoke up, saying, "I need to shower and primp for this evening." Challenging him, she asked, "Steve, could you show me what the dances were like so I can think the moves through?"

He laughed and said, "No not here. You will have no problems though. The moves are the same as having sex and Steve tells me you have mastered those just fine."

After Lynette went up to the suite, we both dozed off from the effects of three mojitos. Apparently, Lynette also stole a short nap wanting to make sure she was primed to have fun all night.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

Around six, three sharp knocked at the door: "da daa da dat dat" in singsong form. Lynette hopped up before I could, and reaching the door swung it open with a flourish that reminded me of her wrap flying off earlier today.

Enthusiastically, Lynette said, "Hi Steve! Perfect timing!"

Her arms reached forward to take him by the shoulders. Pulling Steve to her breasts, she planted her juicy lips solidly on his, opened her mouth and thrust her tongue in. Three swipes later, she parted and I thought she seemed loose enough to take in a real adventure.

I instantly saw the effect of that kiss on her. Lynette's nipples were at attention. I had to agree that a bra would have ruined the look of her top on any woman with her endowments. Steve and I would be treated to her nice tits all evening.

Lynette purchased her outfit in small Cuban owned boutique. It was perfect for the evening we had planned. With just enough elasticity, it moved with her body permitting unrestrained dancing. The snug fit pressed against her naked flesh with a silky lightness.

She chose a traditional Salsa layered Pico mini skirt. One designed to be worn low and tight around the waist while flowing loosely around thighs with a wild uneven hem. The slightest flip and the red skirt would hide nothing. It seemed the color was intentional ... a hot red dress following the cliché that it would be a hot night.

On top, she wore what a convertible halter top/wrap since it could be worn either way. Two stings held it up around the nape of her neck, and attached to ends that crossed her chest to show cleavage and allow her breasts to float unrestrained. The wrap crossed around the small of her back and tied in the front. It had a wild pattern of colorful leopard spots with fills of opaque pinks, yellows and white.

Lynette has ripped abs showed nicely and the skirt, riding about 2 inches above her pussy it was genuinely enticing.

I asked to feel the fabric that looked so unique, not expecting this blatant ploy to grope to fool anyone. Ha ha on her, I turned to Steve and said, "Check this out. It's amazing!"

"See? I can play this taunting game too!" I thought to myself.

Steve reached his hand onto her ass, and giving it a brush, said laughingly, "No VPL? Oh, are you wearing a thong or going combat?"

"Ha ha you lustful bastard, I will have you know it's a red thong to match my skirt and you will never see the best of it!" Lynette shot back.

"Oh, how I'm called on to suffer in this pitiful life of mine! Destined to forever having only a meager glimpse and my imagination to play with," moaned Steve.

At his quip about the thong, I was tempted to tell him the top was a different fabric and we should try it too. Alas, I thought it might be a bit early for such playa. We would settle for a bun-rub. Oops, I suddenly realized we still had a bun of hers in our hands.

Lynette leaned to each of us, removing and taking our hands into each of hers, and delivered a light kiss each while whispering "thank you" first to Steve and then to me. "That felt good."

We each looked ready to go so I said, "drink up, the world awaits us!" and we left for the club in high spirits.

SALSA!

Arriving the club late was not a problem. However, we were relieved to get there after the thrilling cab ride through pocked streets and a driver named Julio that did not know the word "moderato." He had taken some enjoyment seeing Lynette falling alternatingly in Steve's and my lap as he cornered turns at speed. It was impossible to prevent close contact in the narrow back of the mid-size Toyota with a Latino wild man at the wheel. Giggling, Lynette was unrestrained using our thighs and hands to stabilize herself though she could do little about controlling her bouncy breasts as we hit ruts in the road. Steve and I got a good handful of her, and she of us.

Lynette got a surprise when she saw that Steve and I also found men's Salsa attire. The attire consisted of a vest worn open with nothing beneath and tight black pants. She was very complementary saying, among other things, "my but you two are hard body hotties and I get to have you as a double date! What will I do to keep my hands off you and keep the competition at bay!" The swimming and track background showed off nicely as ripped abs, tight pecs and full shoulders. As she said, they were real and looked it. Not the gym manufactured kind at all.

Adding to the look and feel, we both wore our own distinctive musky colognes based on sandalwood but spicy in different ways. Mine was given as a gift from Lynette so I knew it would work the desired magic. Steve had a cinnamon and clove mix that seemed to have the same appeal. I noticed Lynette inhaling generously when she had swayed into Steve's lap during the cab ride.

We ordered a mojito to start and bottle of wine to accompany our meal. Dinner flew by, and soon the initial nervousness among us gave way in the face of alcohol and disarming discussions. Our animation augmented a lot of touching; arms, thighs, little cheek kisses and more and it was obvious that touching rather than talking was the social norm for this gathering.

Just after we finished our meals, the musicians opened up with Tito Puente's "Ran Kan Kan", timbales and all. Lynette took Steve by the hand, tore him from his seat and winked at me as she sashayed her swinging hips to the dance floor. From this moment forward, the dancing was a whirlwind of increasingly physical and suggestive movements punctuated by slow, fast, dancing as pairs and a trio. My catalog of mental images includes a series of moves Lynette put on Steve as he stood in front of her. With her hands raised and clasped behind her head looking down her shoulder she ground a hip rotation in opposing direction as her chest and head. Her breasts were full and moving in their own double tempo swing. Oh, how I loved this woman's woman. She had to be Aphrodite's progeny.

By this time, we had all had a good fill of dancing and groping. The freedom Lynnette had shown with Steve surprised me since she had emphasized that fantasies were not to become realities. I wondered if she had been saying that for me while secretly toying with the notion. If the way they danced was any indication, she had some secrets. Well, so did I and I want to see her get a good fucking from a good man that she wanted? To me, this was the ultimate act of love and giving in the name of love. I knew our relationship was solid, and that she had experienced passions that she might want to have again. If that were something she wanted then I, loving her unconditionally, would allow it or even aid it. Steve would be the perfect candidate given our long friendship, but the choice was still hers to make and not mine.

The dance was a slow one taken by Lynnette and Steve. Had I not been her husband, I would have thought they were lovers. Their moves were affectionate and sensitive revealing both mental and physically connection between them. Unafraid of close contact, they ground pelvises and their hands moved freely; Steve massaging her ass cheeks and she his bare back under the Salsa vest he wore. There were kisses too. His focused on the nape of her neck while his hands reached into her full head of hair at the back of her head. They looked very aroused.

I could not quite believe it but we seemed to be going somewhere unexpected.

When the song finished they returned to the table and we all nodded in agreement that it was time to get our way. The door attendant waved a cab and off we went.

SALSA GETS SALTY

Without mixing words, the cab ride degenerated into a groping session. This was little different from the cab ride to the club except that we were loose with alcohol and much more comfortable with touching. Lynette seemed to abandon pretense as she sought support by pressing her hand to our cocks instead of thighs as she did on the ride to the club. We returned favors and freely plied her sparsely covered body. It was a hilarious, raucous drive and when we arrived at the hotel Lynette said she wanted to cool off in the ocean.

We paid and promptly spilled out of the car and turned towards the hotel to go change. Sassy woman that she is, Lynette quickly said, "Where do you guys think you're going. Let us go! I will race you!"

Oh god, we were going straight to the beach! Either this was swimming in clothes or a skinny dip and I figured was the latter!

"Wow, that would be fun", we chimed in unison. Lynette had a good lead as we raced towards the water. Steve and I struggled to undue our pants while Lynette had no trouble removing her top. Indirect lights showed her bare breasts as they swung to the sides of her narrow back.

As Lynette's hands started to draw her skirt down, we heard a sudden "aargh" from Steve on my left. I looked as did Lynette and saw him tumble and sprawl to the sand. He had settled with pants and boxers around his knees looking up at the stars. Impossible to miss was his thick uncircumcised penis. "Cool I thought to myself. Wish I was uncircumcised," Lynette gave a hoot and then laughed uncontrollably while striping her skirt down. In a blink, she turned and splashed into the water.

After her I shouted, "Hey, what happened to the thong?" There had not been one under her skirt and I could not remember her removing it. Where it was or went was a mystery to me. Damn, was she combat on the cab ride? Maybe it was already gone during that last slow dance with Steve. Well, that is what South Beach and Salsa can do when three sex hungry friends get together.

In a fit of laughter, she called after my shout, "gotcha!"

In the water, we joined as a threesome in a groping hug. She had a hand on each of our cocks, which were responding as expected. Steve unabashedly handled her tits while I went for the goods: ass and pussy.

Lynette was alternating kisses between us when she pulled back and said, "Ok gang, enough of this; let's go for a post function in our suite. I'm thirsty!"

Our sprint to the room was hilarious. We ran through the nearly empty lobby covering our privates with wads of clothes. It seemed a waste of time to try to fight clothes on over our wetness and jointly figured a sprint was the better option.

The elevator ride was short but we came together get until the door opened to break our kissing.

Having finally gotten the key through the door and we fell inward in a tangled heap. Would the laughter ever stop I wondered. The lobby sprint had us doubled over in laughter.

Lynette then took us each by a hand and pulled us up. Wrapping her arms around our waists, she led us to the bedroom.

Holy shit, this was...wow! Was this amazing what!

That was it; I almost dropped a load right then and there. I kept thinking, we are headed directly to a ménage a' trois. I wanted this. It was incredibly exciting and I was shaking with how fantastic it seemed. She obviously felt just trusting as well as horny.

"Let's get to it!" I thought to myself.

Lynette flopped down in the middle of the bed. Steve got in to her left and I to the right. She was drawn up into a sitting position where her tits pressed to the sides and her pussy just hide in the dark below her knees. She was smiling broadly and said to us, "I desperately need something on my skin before the salt water dries it all out. Could you please help me? Moreover, could you start with my feet? So there it was, a four handed massage!"

FEELING FOUR HANDS

I took up her favorite hemp seed glow oil, palmed a generous portion and tossed the bottle to Steve on Lynette's left. Steve followed suit as Lynette settled down laying herself stomach down between me and Steve -- her lovers.

We to took up her feet while sitting astride her calve. To fit us both in this position Lynette gently separated her legs and treated us to a little wink from between her pussy lips. It looked warm, moist and fresh from our swim.

Starting with the pads of her feet Steve and I pushed and pulled our fingers between her toes. Yep, the trick she had told me about from some former lover that felt like penetration.

Lynette moaned her satisfaction and we did not delay moving to her calves. With her legs still apart, the foot stimulation was having obvious effects on her sex. It had become moist against her smooth waxed lips, which were visibly pink and swollen. Her vagina opening was winking and her inner labias were partially exposed. Gravity held her hood open and we could just imagine her clit hiding in there.

The pace, the sight of her tush and our concentration on massage entranced us all. Our work slowed for a time until she gave us a little wiggle and told us to get to work.

We moved to Lynette's thighs and senses became hyper-acute.

We could hear the world outside spilling into our room. Moist air enveloped us with the aroma of the sea, our bodies and the massage oil. Glowing light from reflections of the moon off the sea combined with neon deco from below to form a mystical aura around us. The sounds wove a tapestry from which we inhaled to capture lest it be lost. Calypso, salsa and Jimmy Buffet mixed into our open air with scents of spicy cooking from earlier meals. It melded us into one. At once alone with our senses yet together in one consciousness of shared experience.

We were all intoxicated with what we were sensing and experiencing. Lynette humming intonated inner sounds of pleasure while Steve and I worked her thighs in rhythm. We stroked up the inner thigh and then down the outside.

Our fingers met at the bottom of her clit. Then, together we pressed her labias upwards on opposing sides to move her hood against her clitoris. I longed to touch her inside, to feel her warm moist love.

In contrast to the earlier dancing energy and the sexually tensioned laughs, these moments stood still in time. With equal energy, they were smooth and silky instead of frenetic and anxious.

Our urgent needs and restraint were wearing thin.

Animal instincts refined our movements into exquisite expressions of seduction and desire. Our body musk mixed with each successive movement. So potent is it that Lynette begins slowly contracting her hips, driving her pelvis slowly into the bed.

Below we can hear the sounds laughter and voices from happy revelers drift in, adding their essence to the passions enveloping us.

We have moved our massage up and while Steve continues to massage Lynette's lower back, buns, love cleft and thighs I am working her back, shoulders and arms. It is truly a four-hand massage now, extending the full length of her torso.

Though Steve and I no longer follow the same synchronization, our massage was delivered according to Lynette's positive responses.

Now her skin is flushed, moist and glistening with oil.

I leaned over and begun to use my lips to kiss Lynette's back and neck. Taking a cue, Steve does the same on Lynette's lower back, and I expected him to rush to her pussy for a taste. Lynette is continuing to moan in a state of pleasure as Steve massages her buns.