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Miami Ménage
Amber Carlsbad
I thought Kevin and I enjoyed a wild sex life, one that remained hot and heavy despite the passage of time. But my idea of “hot and heavy” was changed forever by our anniversary trip to Miami—and by our erotic encounter with Marisel. From the moment we met her, I knew what was going to happen, and I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything before….
This was going to be an anniversary to remember.
I can’t tell you exactly when my opinion on fidelity changed, but I can describe the events preceding it.
Kevin and I were married for several years when we decided to take a vacation cruise for our anniversary. As an added bonus, we’d spend three luxurious days in Miami before boarding the ship for a seven-day journey through the Caribbean islands. Little did we know that the trip would change our lives in a way neither of us could have imagined.
It started in the airport, even before our red-eye thundered away from LAX. Kevin looked sexy as ever in faded jeans and a fitted shirt and as usual, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. The tingling in my nether regions grew as we boarded the plane and settled in for the night.
We are both in our early thirties, but I must be in my sexual prime, because as soon as the blankets were distributed and the cabin lights dimmed, the drone of the engines ignited a fire between my legs. I fidgeted for a while, trying to ignore it, but failed miserably. Finally, running a hand through Kevin’s longish hair, I leaned over and kissed his earlobe. It was a surefire tactic to command his full attention.
“What’s up, baby?” he asked, smiling and pretending he hadn’t noticed my agitation. Resting my head on his shoulder, I let my blond hair spill down his arm, knowing how much he loves the silky feel of it on his skin. His smile wavered and his brows rose suspiciously before he captured my jaw in his strong hand and floored me with a long, penetrating kiss. I knew it! Stealthily I slid a hand into his lap and discovered exactly what I’d expected. He, too, was aroused. Heavy heat pooled low in my gut as I felt his above-average cock straining against the worn denim.
“You better be careful what you start, Kara,” he breathed in my ear, keeping a wary eye on the dimly lit aisle.
The plane was far from full and being in the back row had its advantages. Undaunted, I slowly dragged down his zipper and coaxed his erection into my hands. Beads of slippery fluid had collected at the tip, and I used a fingertip to spread them over the smooth head of his cock. He gasped at my nerve and gripped the armrests, the excitement of this trip plus the thrill of public sex making him harder than steel within seconds. Salivating, I began the slow, deliberate motions I knew he loved.
“Jesus,” he hissed, under his breath. Licking my lips, I whispered into his ear what I’d rather be doing. He groaned in response, and the ache in my cunt reached epidemic proportions. Helpless to satisfy myself, I lavished my pent-up frustration on him, stroking his shaft while rubbing the swollen head with my slick palm. I could have dragged him to the lavatory and fucked his brains out right then, but the flight attendants were engaged in a group gossip-fest just outside the door.
“Baby, slow down….” Kevin warned.
By now the steady vibration of the jet engines was close to getting me off as well, but rather than chase my own pleasure, I ducked under the blanket to satisfy his. The moment I took him between my lips, I felt his testicles tighten. I only had to revolve my tongue once or twice before quick shots of hot come splashed the back of my throat. With no option but to swallow, I suckled his sensitive member until the spasms subsided then I slowly emerged from under the blanket. The look on his face made me melt as he gave my thigh a grateful squeeze. If only I’d worn a dress instead of pants, he could have returned the favor. What was I thinking?
I smoothed my hair and tried to settle back down in my seat but the seam of my jeans rubbing mercilessly against my engorged clit quickly became too intense to stand. In a hurry, I headed to the lavatory. Once inside, I shimmied the jeans down, braced against the sink and breathlessly stroked my damp crotch. Delicious tremors emanated from my fingertips. I could have come just like that, but craving skin-on-skin contact, I pulled the nylon aside to plunge my fingers between my slippery lips. It only took one revolution over my pebbled clit for orgasms to burst forth hard and fast. The feeling was so intense that I had to bite the heel of my other hand to avoid making noise. Satisfied for the moment and a little embarrassed, I straightened up and sneaked back to my seat, where Kevin greeted me with a knowing wink. We both slept the remainder of the flight before touching down in Miami just before noon the following day.
Until the trip, I’d thought that Kevin and I enjoyed a wild sex life—one that remained hot and heavy despite the passage of time. Unwittingly my perception of “hot and heavy” was drastically altered by that vacation.
A typical guy, Kevin couldn’t wait to hit the beach, but as soon as we spread out our towels and lay down, the warm sand and balmy air fanned our fire yet again. There is no place like Miami to loosen inhibitions. Above us, palms swayed lazily in the ocean breeze and gulls swooped and cried, dodging spontaneous bursts of sea foam. I lay on my side, studying his chiseled profile while absorbing the feast of sights and sounds. It didn’t take long before the abundance of near-naked bodies littering South Beach proved to be a potent aphrodisiac.
Young studs flaunting their virility in skimpy spandex, and lithe, suntanned beauties baring their pert breasts surrounded us. It was obvious that Kevin got a rise out of them, and watching the partial hard-on in his trunks all afternoon as we took turns bodysurfing turned my insides to jelly. As soon as the sun dipped toward the horizon, I dragged him into the sea for a final cooling swim, then back to the room for a romp.
The shower was a doorless, multiple-head deal with gleaming art-deco tile walls that made rinsing the sand and salt from our sun-kissed skin a decadent experience. Still horny from watching all the succulent tits flounce past, Kevin tossed the soap aside in favor of pressing me to the wall. I’ve always been a sucker for his questing, conquering kisses, which are a good indication of the way he likes to fuck. Once his tongue starts thrusting, it’s pretty much all over. He can gladly have his way with me.
With my wrists pinned above my head and his slippery erection prodding my belly I let myself relax and enjoy the sensation of being helpless prey in a predator’s grasp. His free hand groped my breasts, expertly rolling my swollen nipples between his fingers until I was left wantonly panting against his hard chest.
Intuitive to the degree of my excitement, he commanded, “Turn around, Kara,” and I willingly obeyed, allowing him to position me in front of a waist-high jet. He deftly angled the nozzle down and the sensation of warm water pulsing over my pussy while his thick cock pressed into me from behind was mind-numbing. My legs went weak but he held me steady with a steely arm under my hips, thrusting in then out, faster and faster until I felt his sinewy thighs tensing against my ass.
My entire cunt was reverberating in time with the relentless spray when Kevin abruptly withdrew to wedge his erection between my thighs. Looking down at the steaming water rushing against the rosy head of his cock was staggeringly erotic. He ejaculated with a rough shout, his rigid erection jerking back against my throbbing clit with each forceful release of semen. My knees buckled and an earthshaking climax robbed
