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“I’ll never forget the way you looked, on your knees, sucking his cock to the root.”

Michael was fucking me from behind, reliving the time we’d hooked up with another couple on vacation. The four of us had been fast friends by the pool, then cohorts on several ventures to island vista points, before finding out that where we connected best was between the sheets. Or on top of the sheets, as was the situation Michael was reminiscing over. I’d been on my hands and knees on the hotel’s large bed, with Michael behind me, in my pussy to the hilt, while I’d sucked off Gerome, the shoe salesman from Baltimore who had been blessed with a cock that was nearly nine inches long. His wife, Cathy, had been Michael’s dream girl: a pixie blonde, all vim and vigor, with a mouth that didn’t quit.

Once we’d discovered that our love of fucking superseded our love of sightseeing, we’d spent the next few days almost exclusively in one hotel room or the other. Or out on the balcony. Or late one night, when the rest of the world was asleep, on the beach.

That time was my favorite. Michael brought the blanket. Our new friends came equipped with a bottle of champagne and glasses purloined from the hotel bar. The moon was all that we needed to illuminate our erotic escapade. The silver orb shone down on us, gilding our skin, tipping the waves as they broke and fell. Cathy had been wearing a bikini, as if she might go for a moonlit swim. Instead, we went for a moonlit swing, with Michael untying the little bows at her hips and freeing her of the petal-pink bikini bottoms and me undoing the bows under her hair and at her back, so that the top free-fell to the blanket below. The men watched for a moment as Cathy and I kissed — more than a moment, maybe. That kiss still lingers in my soul. She and I came together naturally, even though I’d never kissed a woman before, never even considered the concept. I’d been fairly cock-centric to that point in my life. But something about the island getaway, the tropical paradise, the complete and utter transformation of our relationship — something magical happened that beautiful night. Cathy and I let our hands roam, stroking one another as the men sat back and observed.

At least, until they could wait no longer, that is.

Michael made a low growl deep in his throat to remind me that he was there. Gerome whispered his wife’s name, his voice husky with raw need and desire. We sank to the blanket and moved into a 69, so that she was licking me and I was licking her, and only after we’d brought one another to earth-shattering orgasms did we part and move on to take care of our men.

This was a splendid swap, a sweltering swing, with me hungrily falling into Gerome’s arms while Cathy wiggled her way to Michael’s lap. We moved so that we were face-to-face, and we could watch one another take pleasure from the other’s spouse.

I have to think that Michael appreciated my scent on Cathy’s skin. He breathed in deeply as he fucked her, as he bounced her practically into the air with each powerful thrust. Gerome made sure to stroke my clit while he worked me. He had such a dreamy cock. Michael’s no slouch, but I’d never been with a man as large before. Simply sliding down his pole to the root was an overwhelming experience. I felt filled and fulfilled in a way I’d never understood.

When we both began to move faster, the men repositioned us so that we were on our hands and knees, still facing each other, and they held our hips and ground into us doggy-style. Cathy and I took the opportunity to resume our kissing lessons, licking and lapping at each other in a delightfully playful way.

Gerome came first. He announced his orgasm with a mighty bellow. Michael filled Cathy next. We two came after — simultaneously, I like to think. Only then did the four of us dip in the ocean — naked beneath the moonlight — romping and prancing until our libidos were ready for another round.

Michael likes to relive this vacation. We discuss our antics often, reminiscing about our fond friends.

“I’ll never forget,” he said again tonight, so I decided to reveal my anniversary surprise. As he came, reliving those halcyon days, I told him about the two tickets in his top drawer, and my secret plan to hook up with Cathy and Gerome once more. Who says paradise has to come but once beneath a silvery moon?

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A Moonlit Swing

Storyline

“I’ll never forget the way you looked, on your knees, sucking his cock to the root.”

Michael was fucking me from behind, reliving the time we’d hooked up with another couple on vacation. The four of us had been fast friends by the pool, then cohorts on several ventures to island vista points, before finding out that where we connected best was between the sheets. Or on top of the sheets, as was the situation Michael was reminiscing over. I’d been on my hands and knees on the hotel’s large bed, with Michael behind me, in my pussy to the hilt, while I’d sucked off Gerome, the shoe salesman from Baltimore who had been blessed with a cock that was nearly nine inches long. His wife, Cathy, had been Michael’s dream girl: a pixie blonde, all vim and vigor, with a mouth that didn’t quit.

Once we’d discovered that our love of fucking superseded our love of sightseeing, we’d spent the next few days almost exclusively in one hotel room or the other. Or out on the balcony. Or late one night, when the rest of the world was asleep, on the beach.

That time was my favorite. Michael brought the blanket. Our new friends came equipped with a bottle of champagne and glasses purloined from the hotel bar. The moon was all that we needed to illuminate our erotic escapade. The silver orb shone down on us, gilding our skin, tipping the waves as they broke and fell. Cathy had been wearing a bikini, as if she might go for a moonlit swim. Instead, we went for a moonlit swing, with Michael untying the little bows at her hips and freeing her of the petal-pink bikini bottoms and me undoing the bows under her hair and at her back, so that the top free-fell to the blanket below. The men watched for a moment as Cathy and I kissed — more than a moment, maybe. That kiss still lingers in my soul. She and I came together naturally, even though I’d never kissed a woman before, never even considered the concept. I’d been fairly cock-centric to that point in my life. But something about the island getaway, the tropical paradise, the complete and utter transformation of our relationship — something magical happened that beautiful night. Cathy and I let our hands roam, stroking one another as the men sat back and observed.

At least, until they could wait no longer, that is.

Michael made a low growl deep in his throat to remind me that he was there. Gerome whispered his wife’s name, his voice husky with raw need and desire. We sank to the blanket and moved into a 69, so that she was licking me and I was licking her, and only after we’d brought one another to earth-shattering orgasms did we part and move on to take care of our men.

This was a splendid swap, a sweltering swing, with me hungrily falling into Gerome’s arms while Cathy wiggled her way to Michael’s lap. We moved so that we were face-to-face, and we could watch one another take pleasure from the other’s spouse.

I have to think that Michael appreciated my scent on Cathy’s skin. He breathed in deeply as he fucked her, as he bounced her practically into the air with each powerful thrust. Gerome made sure to stroke my clit while he worked me. He had such a dreamy cock. Michael’s no slouch, but I’d never been with a man as large before. Simply sliding down his pole to the root was an overwhelming experience. I felt filled and fulfilled in a way I’d never understood.

When we both began to move faster, the men repositioned us so that we were on our hands and knees, still facing each other, and they held our hips and ground into us doggy-style. Cathy and I took the opportunity to resume our kissing lessons, licking and lapping at each other in a delightfully playful way.

Gerome came first. He announced his orgasm with a mighty bellow. Michael filled Cathy next. We two came after — simultaneously, I like to think. Only then did the four of us dip in the ocean — naked beneath the moonlight — romping and prancing until our libidos were ready for another round.

Michael likes to relive this vacation. We discuss our antics often, reminiscing about our fond friends.

“I’ll never forget,” he said again tonight, so I decided to reveal my anniversary surprise. As he came, reliving those halcyon days, I told him about the two tickets in his top drawer, and my secret plan to hook up with Cathy and Gerome once more. Who says paradise has to come but once beneath a silvery moon?

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