He asked me if I liked it hard or soft in his beautiful broken english. I was dumbstruck already because this man was tall, special dark and buckass nekkid. I couldn't even speak and he had to ask me three times before I could even hear him. I was first taken aback because he was nekkid, and secondly, because holy shit, he was fucking nekkid. A tall specimen of a man, broad shouldered, lean and long like a ball player, and did I mention, oh so long that I was immediately damp with imagination. My husband did say that he had something real special planned for me, but this was so much more that this man had me clutching my towel tightly, and weak in the knees, but I digress.
My husband had decided to surprise me and book an all inclusive vacation without my knowledge. My husband shocked me with this whole vacation, and I held a healthy amount of trepidation wrapping my mind around the idea of him planning any vacation, much less one at an all inclusive beach style resort. Mainly do to the fact that we already live in paradise, and secondly because he hadn't let it slip or anything, and had me thinking I didn't know him at all, but he sold it as a no worries, all inclusive, pampering getaway, and I was too floored to debate him, and honestly, didn't want to hurt his feelings, because he rarely does any of the planning, plus he said I wouldn't have to do a thing, and just sit back and relax; my favorite combination of words out his mouth ever.
I was still plenty concerned because he has exceptional taste, and I wasn't asked to give any input whatsoever, so I was worried about traveling and not knowing what to pack, and normally it would have had me asking a butt load of questions, but this had never happened before one, and plus, I didn't want to jinx it. He is a developer by trade, and builds multi million dollars homes in the fastest growing market in the country, so it isn't uncommon for us to play as hard as he works. He did say that I'll need my passport, and very little else, as he shot me that mischievous smile, which could've been interpreted as both a promise and a warning. I packed for any occasion just in case, because I ain't no animal; or so I thought.
He wasn't playing either; come time to go, he had it all planned. An Uber black ride to chaufer us to the airport, first class seats, and by that time, I was able to decipher that we were off to the Seychelles in Africa. Even though I was super excited to finally get back to our roots in Africa, I thought again, what are a couple black folks going to do at an all inclusive beach resort? We're both already plenty black, and he knows I'm not that keen on the ocean, but he put my mind to rest by saying that the waters are crystal-clear, and almost a transparent turquoise, with secluded soft, powdery white sand beaches that beckon you to connect with nature, followed with the bounce of his brows, followed by, plus there are still a handful of our parts that haven't seen the sun. I thought oh boy, this man has lost his f'n mind if he thinks I'm running around in the buff after birthing all his children. Though we both find ourselves in prime condition for our ages, I don't think either of us are up for running around nekkid, I don't care how secluded the beaches, but it did have me curious, and excited about what this fool had up his sleeve.
We arrived and smoked a local fatty which we procured and smoked with our cabbie from the airport to the resort, and just in time to check in. We ended up eating a beautiful fruit display that was left in our room, and chased it with just enough LaMarca Prosecco to sufficiently keep any jet lag at bay. My husband then told me he had a surprise massage scheduled for us, with a huge shit eating grin plastered across his face, and that I should shower "thoroughly", which made me hella suspicious, but I was like, sure why not, when in the Seychelles... After we showered "thoroughly", my husband walked us down to a reserved private beach style cabana and escorted me to the door and said that he'll join me soon. I gave him side eye and said okay, but again was plenty sus.
He repeated, hard or soft, how do you like it, your massages? I stuttered soft like it was a question, and he smiled so bright that I thought I might melt from the heat of it. He said, please remove your clothing and lie face up as he pointed to the massage table, and gave me this tiny dish towel sized piece of cloth that could, just maybe, cover from my nipples to my naughty bits, and only then if I didn't breath, but I was so high and game at that point, I just obayed. The cabana was private, with the smell of relaxing oils and soft sounds of Sade, and all I could think was, what has my husband been smoking, before recalling that it was the same shit as I had, and that it was some pretty good shit, but that this whole scenario was above and beyond anything we've ever done, solo anyway. The masseur returned full frontal and rubbing his hands together in warm oil like some diabolical mad scientist about to go to work; to which I said in my head, bring it with the muahaha and all.
Come to find out, that he was way more than just a pretty face, and cock, ass, and you get the picture; he was also so gifted with his large, strong and baby-soft hands as well. I had no idea what was on the menu, and just thought it was like a massage with a view, like the srip clubs my husband and I had frequented on occasions in our days long passed, and just allowed him to work his magic. He knew exactly where and how to touch every inch of my body and had me in some kind of semi conscious coma that allowed me to witness every touch and only drool and moan in response, because I was literally unable to move a muscle, much less form an articulate thought, until.
He worked me over so perfectly and there was enough endorphins and dopamine in the air to make a bull elephant high af, and just in time as his big hands pushed down from my clavicle and down under my heavy breasts before closing around my waking peaks. I didn't and couldn't say anything, and just witnessed my body do all the talking while giving me away. My nipples puckered in between his well oiled fingers as he repeated his own special version of wax on wax off. I found myself breathing heavy, and whimpering like a puppy as he continued down pass my breasts, and lightly massaged my stomach and pelvis, making my insides jump, all while my body remained comatose, and my mind and loins begged for more. Just his long ripped body leaning over me to reach caused me to get impossibly more high on his pheromones as I imagined myself taking a bite of that forbidden apple. I felt myself get squishy, and I wondered if he could smell what he was cooking?
At one point he instructed me to flip over onto my stomach so that he could get me from behind, and though I know that isn't what he said, it was what I wanted to hear, and I turned over like a voodoo doll under his spell. And oh my god, he was just as proficient from behind as he was from the front. His worked me from the top again, first my neck, shoulders and arms, which had everything south of the Mason-Dixon drooling in anticipation, and when his hands finally made their way down the small of my back and over my ample ass, I couldn't help but to moan out loud as he spread me enough to where I was sure he had to smell my appreciation, just as I could smell his hanging manhood just in my view through the hole in the massage table, and it caused both my mouths to water.
He eventually moved to the side so that he could work my whole frame, and I swear he placed his hanging manhood into my open palm on purpose. I dared not to move my hand as it just slid heavily across my hand and fingers, and it took all of my will power not close my hand around it like how a trout would snap at the bait. He then moved to the end of the table and might have made me cum just then the way he massaged my feet before he worked up my legs and thighs before he kneaded my ass like he had my breasts, spreading my blossom more and more each time he lifted and spread me, and I was soon in full bloom and soaking the towel beneath me, and never have I felt so wantonly exposed. And did I mention how he conveniently rested his manhood in the arches of my feet while doing so? Man, I could smell my own bouquet and there was no way that he couldn't too. He then asked me if he could enter me, and without any hesitation, I whimpered please.
He walked a lap around table dragging his fingertips across my skin and when up by my head and shoulders again, I happen to notice that I couldn't see his cock. I could still smell it and was so hungry for it, but it was nowhere in sight. When he approached me from my other side, he told me to lift my pelvis as he slid on of those bolster pillows under my hips. Not quite face down ass up but again I felt unfairly exposed but so excited to find out why. I then found out why I wasn't able to see his junk on his last lap as put his hard cock into my hand again while his fingers began to performed his sou chef work and prepped my all my hungry holes. He took his time, tantalizingly rimming me, tugging, stretching and pushing me limber before slowly inserting those magic fingers. I now understood why his cock was placed in my hand; it was more of a bit that I really wanted to bite on, it was now securely in my grip as he undulated and slowly fucked my hand like his fingers did my holes. I was so sloppy wet that there we no friction or resistance and only constriction as they made their way in and out of me. I wanted, no needed a cock inside me, and didn't care where, and for the first time, I remembered that I was married. I immediately froze and said that I couldn't, and apologized, and even started to literally cry from the crushing guilt and embarrassment, but just then I heard my husband's deep Barry White voice ask "please don't stop"? I turned my head to see him next to me as I was crying tears and apologizing profusely as he stroked my hair, kissed my tears away and asked again, "please, for me"?
We locked eyes then, and I could see that he really wanted it, and with the unspoken consent heavy in the air, he helped me turn over onto my back again and removed the bolster pillow. He kissed me lovingly, before nodding to the massuer to continue? He pacified me by cupping my face and kissing away my tears as we echoed, I love you. Who would have known, but the legs on the table spread underneath me, and I felt the beach breeze waif between my legs and thighs and my husband inhaled my bouquet while kissing me and said you smell so fucking good. Just then I felt the head of a cock slowly work its way inside me, and I cried out again into my husband's kiss in total ecstasy. He replied, thank you, before he stood, and backed away to a nearby lounger to sit and continue watching.
This new cock inside me, was the first real, hot piece of flesh to be inside me, other than my husband's, in twenty something years. I turned my gaze from my husband's face to meet my masseur's briefly, just to see his beautiful green eyes as he filled me more deeply than I was accustom, to a point where it hurt so good that I soon began to cum, and against my will because I was too soon and I didn't want it to end. But he slowed his pace and pressed down on my clit with his palm and like magic, that allowed me to persist. I soon felt ravenous again and wanted more, and I looked over to see my husband stroking his own substantial cock as I watched him watch us. My masseur lifted my upper body and asked me again in his beautiful native tongue to watch as his magnificent cock slid in and out of me, and I watched in utter awe as my nectar built beautiful pearl colored rings of appreciation around his long freshly glazed black cock. My body didn't feel like my own anymore, and I wasn't unusually able to stack this many orgasms and remembered that I was pretty f'n high, and thought, man that was some good shit.
I snapped to reality again when my husband grabs me by my face again, kisses my agape mouth, and asks if he could join. I couldn't immediately fathom how that would happen, and wasn't prepared to see my husband get pegged by anyone but me, but I also couldn't deny him, and was willing to be up for whatever and stuttered again, please? My masseur withdrew from me, which allowed some oxygen to my brain, and my husband helped me up and over to the lounger where he lay down and asked me to ride him. I was so loose and didn't think i'd be any good in the saddle, but obliged? I managed to throw my leg over him as he helped me to lower myself onto his fat waiting cock. It awoke a fire inside me again, and I cried out as he stretched me in a different way than my masseur couldn't. My husband has the kind of girth that makes you inhale deeply while taking it in and exhale in that kind of oddly pleasurable relief one gets while passing a large bowel movement, it almost made me completely forget about the other cock, until.
Thankfully I was so malleable and wet that, that not only could I take them both, but I needed them more. He was perfectly long from behind, and easily made it pass my ample ass and deep inside of me. I've never before had anything so considerable inside me there, and it made me think, what the hell had I've been missing. It was so tight having all of them inside me together, and feeling them fill me to where I thought I might implode. After looking down to see that same impression in my husband's expression, I couldn't help but to explode, and yet still demanded more. I can't remember where it all eventually ended, except that I was in my husband's embrace, kissing and panting and so completely sated. I had melted in his strong arms and we were echoing our I love yous again when I realized that we were alone, and questioned if it was even real? I teared again, but this time because I felt so completely fulfilled and satiated, and he kissed me with his smug bratty smile and asked how I thought he did planning their first vacation? I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of elaborating more than I already had shown, and he added, it's only day one, and that I should wait to see what else he had in store.
Happy Hump Day!!
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