Lizzie in Barbados

"I would dearly love to have him", muttered my wife, pulling her sunglasses down a little as she stared at the taught ass of the young bar manager bending in front of us as he collected empty glasses from the ornate metal tables scattered between the sun loungers.

I looked harder at him - he was someone we had become used to seeing over the last few weeks of our stay in Barbados. His name was Anthony and he was polite, attentive, engaging, and super efficient, all the things that you would expect from a man running a pool-side bar in an upscale island resort.

I didn't see what Lizzie saw in him though, and was a little surprised. I looked at her with an eyebrow raised, which she detected from the corner of her eye while continuing to stare as Anthony walked quickly away with his full tray of empties balanced on his shoulder.

"I don't know, really", came the answer to the question I hadn't asked aloud.

"His ass is great - he's in shape, but he's nothing special. It's the whole thing - he's such a lovely guy. I want to ruin that innocence", said Lizzie, chuckling as she finally looked over at me, reclined beside her in the glorious afternoon sun.

I guess I wasn't surprised. Lizzie doesn't have a type. She's not into a particular look, body type, or skin colour. She doesn't care about the size of a guy's cock or biceps. It's about connection. Lizzie will have a massive orgasm with a guy who she bumped into in the stairwell of a bar, just because of something in their eyes which triggered instant mutual lust, or perhaps, an accidental brush against a hard cock through jeans, in the same way that she might be utterly uninterested in the rich handsome guy with the stud looks and the fast car.

Lizzie is all for equality of opportunity.

"Based on the attention he gives you, darling", I said, "I'm certain it wouldn't be difficult to arrange an encounter."

Lizzie smiled and lay back, her face tilted to the sun, a dreamy smile on her face, eyes closed.

I reached over the small gap between our loungers and gently took the fingers of her right hand, which was dangling lazily by her side, between my thumb and forefinger.

Rolling onto my side to disguise an erection growing quickly in my shorts, I said, softly, "Thinking about it?".

Lizzie smiled and squirmed a little, her thighs rubbing gently together.

"Uh-huh", she murmured.

Almost in a whisper, I asked, "Do you want me to speak to him?"

"Yes, please", sighed my wife.

With the familiar excitement building, I subtly arranged myself so that the other sunbathers wouldn't spot the tent in my shorts, I got to my feet, stretched, and wandered casually over to where Anthony was trying to fix some problem with the till, speaking periodically into his hand-held radio to, I assume, someone in IT.

Fortunately, people had begun to drift away to nap, shower, and change for dinner in the late afternoon. There was nobody within earshot as Anthony told the person on the radio he'd be back in 5 minutes and turned his wide grin towards me, his teeth so white they may have been bleached by the sun he spent his life in.

"Doc - what can I get you?" he asked. By this time (we'd been on the island for six weeks), Anthony knew a fair bit about us and had started calling me "Doc" when he found out what I did for a living.

"Two Mojitos, please Anthony", I said, perching on a stool and resting my elbows on the bar as he turned his back to me and started mixing our drinks.

My experience has taught me that these conversations are best dealt with directly - you have to make sure the person you're speaking to knows precisely what you mean, no hints or allusions, just get on with it. So I got on with it.

"Anthony, Lizzie really likes you."

Anthony chuckled his back to me, glancing up at me in the large mirror that ran the length of the bar.

"Well, I like her too Doc - she's a lovely lady", he said.

"Would you say she was hot, too, Anthony? I've seen you looking, it's OK, we both have."

Anthony paused what he was doing and looked at me in the mirror, clearly deciding which way to take what I'd just asked him.

He went with taking it lightly, saying, with that chuckle in his voice, "Yes Doc, she's smoking hot if want to know what I think - you're a very lucky man."

Before he could resume mixing our drinks I said, "We would like you to fuck her, Anthony".

It took long seconds for Anthony to say anything. We were staring at each other in the mirror - he was transfixed, checking my face to see if he'd misheard or misunderstood, me doing my best to seem calm and reassuring but also trying to make clear there was a question in the air.

My cock was pushing harder than ever into the fabric of my shorts and I stood to move it to one side, having to glance down to check it wasn't poking over my waistband.

Anthony interpreted my standing up as my intention to walk away.

"Fuck yes.", he said, his eyes still on mine.

I smiled broadly at him.

"Could you bring those over to us please?", I said, indicating the still-empty Mojito glasses, and strolled back to my lounger.

Lizzie looked at me, questioning, lustful.

"Oh yes, Liz, he's in, that's for sure. He's coming over now with our drinks."

Lizzie sighed with the pleasure of anticipation and bent her knees up, he feet now flat on the lounger, painted toes reflecting the bright sun.

Anthony arrived and placed my drink on the table next to me, I thanked him.

Standing over Lizzie, he started to put her drink down with a fresh coaster on the table at her elbow, his eyes never leaving her tanned body, black bikini bottoms and top with a thin white shawl draped over her shoulders against the slight breeze, wide-brimmed hat and over-sized sunglasses.

Never one to decline attention, Lizzie playfully stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, pushing away from the partly upright lounger seat-back and exposing her wonderful neck while her toned, bronze tummy tightened to show the impressive abs she'd worked on for months as part of "operation beach body".

I reached discretely over and pulled the end of the bow that held Lizzie's bikini bottoms together - there was one at each side of course but I only meant to tease.

"Don't rush off, take a moment to look closely - after all, you can have this", I said, as I let the slack, thin cord slide between my fingers to the floor.

I gently folded the corner of the triangle of material, freed from its bow restraint, back on itself to reveal, but only just, the very top of Lizzie's bald cunt, which, I noted, was glistening with either sweat or something else.

Lizzie moaned softly as Anthony, his hand shaking so that the ice in the glass he held rattled, said, under his breath, "Oh my God."

Lizzie's face was level with Anthony's crotch and she turned to see a sizeable bulge in his smart uniform shorts, inches from her face.

Glancing around, she reached and pulled his zip down, her slender left hand, complete with a gold wedding ring glinting in the sun, disappearing into his shorts, fumbling to pull his cock out after a brief struggle with Anthony's underwear.

My wife immediately took him deep into her mouth, using the fact that he was shielding her from the other patrons with his body to blow him hard and fast.

After a couple of minutes of this, Anthony stock still as if frozen in place, glass in his hand, his gently rocking hips the only thing giving any clue to what was happening to the casual observer, we all became aware of a strident, impatient voice demanding Anthony's attention at the bar.

Lizzie bobbed her head faster, her cheeks drawn in as she sucked hard, but as the customer's voice grew louder we knew he was approaching at speed, getting angry now.

Anthony withdrew and quickly put his cock away, although not able to zip himself up, he could handle that in a moment.

Turning away as Anthony hurried off to deal with the irate customer, apologizing profusely, Lizzie relaxed back into her cushion, a wide smile on her face.

"Did you enjoy that darling? Is his cock nice?", I asked, interested.

"Uhh-Hmm", replied Lizzie.

"Pity you couldn't finish, but there will be plenty of time for that", I said.

Lizzie turned her head toward me and parted her lips, showing me a mouth full of cum, some of which ran thickly over her chin to drop onto the cushion of the lounger.

Swallowing, Lizzie grinned and said, "He finished".

On the way to our room, I smiled at Anthony and went close to tell him our suite number. As soon as I started to speak he smiled, lust written all over his face as his eyes roamed over Lizzie, who was standing 10 feet away on the path, focused on her phone, sunglasses pushed up high on her head, he interrupted and said, "I know which room, Doc, I know."

The knock on the door came as I was inside Lizzie, my cock buried in her soaking cunt, arms round my neck and lips against my ear whispering filth, conjuring pornographic images of such intensity that I was in danger of cumming in seconds.

I was about to withdraw and get off of my wife to open the door - it could only be Anthony - when Lizzie called, breathless, "Come in."

"Keep fucking me", she whispered.

The door opened and quickly closed again behind Anthony, who came into the room and stopped as he arrived at the master bedroom door and saw Lizzie and I on the carpet, her legs splayed, knees bent, arms wrapped tightly around my neck, thrusting herself off the floor with her hips to meet my strong thrusts, muscles in her calves and thighs strained as she met Anthony's eyes - his face a picture of shock and arousal.

Lizzie came hard on my cock. She was still cumming as I emptied my heavy balls inside her, swearing softly, gradually slowing my movements as my forehead came to rest on the carpet.

After a couple of minutes, I took my softening, dripping cock out of my wife's open cunt and stood, giving Lizzie my hand to help her get to her feet.

Cum running heavy down her thighs, white and stark against her brown skin, Lizzie skipped lightly over to Anthony and pulled him into the room, pushing his back to the wall she began to kiss him passionately, tongue in his mouth, hands in his hair, her legs wide apart and braced slightly behind her, locked at the knee, her waist pushed hard against his, trapping him firmly against the wall.

I moved a heavy wing-backed chair into place a few feet away, next to the bed but angled so I could stretch out my legs and practically touch my wife with my toes as she breathlessly kissed Anthony, now popping the buttons off of his short-sleeved shirt so that they fell to the floor and bounced in all directions.

As I sat, naked and sweating, my cum-covered cock quickly started to stiffen again, having never really gone limp from fucking my wife, and I started to absently stroke myself, my right hand becoming sticky.

With Anthony's shirt discarded his chest was exposed - he was toned, his skin colour a natural light coffee, hairless and slim, but not over-muscled.

Lizzie, still kissing Anthony, who was now holding her head and forcefully pushing his tongue into her mouth, a thin sliver of drool hanging from their lips, ran her hands down over his body.

Finding and ripping off his belt, Lizzie pulled his shorts open with a loud tearing noise and bent to push them and his boxers down to his ankles, kissing his body all the way down as she squatted to pull his clothes over his feet and throw them behind her.

As Lizzie's face came level with his cock she stopped for a few seconds to admire it. He was probably 8 inches long, not too thick, circumcised (which Lizzie prefers), and slightly crooked in a way that looked like it might stimulate a woman's g-spot when it was inside her.

Anthony looked down at my wife, who met his eyes as she slowly engulfed his cock in her mouth.

He was so hard that Lizzie couldn't pull his cock all the way horizontal, so had to rise to her knees to take it.

Lizzie looked so hot in her kneeling position, her legs apart, my cum still running in a thin trickle down her inner thigh, that I was quickly fully hard again.

Anthony was moaning and holding Lizzie's head gently as she went down on him, taking him from base to tip and back again, making his dark cock slick with her saliva.

Lizzie glanced up at me, took her mouth from his cock, and, smiling, stood and took him by the hand to the opposite wall, where she positioned him facing a floor-to-ceiling mirror, his palms flat against the glass to support himself, gazing at Lizzie's reflection as she looked over his shoulder.

My wife dropped to her knees again and, with a skip of my heart, I knew what she was going to do, and I was beside myself with excitement, having to drop my cock to stop from cumming and give myself a moment to calm down.

I wanted a closer view and I moved next to my wife, kneeling beside her, my cock pointing up to the ceiling.

Level with Anthony's ass, Lizzie placed a hand on each cheek, pulling them apart, and pushed her face between them, thrusting her tongue against his asshole.

Anthony jumped, and Lizzie held his ass firmly. As she began to lick him she groaned loudly, saying something muffled which sounded like, "You have to be fucking kidding. I never... incredible. Filthy bitch."

I glanced up and saw at once that the reason Anthony was hard to hear was that he had buried his face into the crook of his left elbow as he held himself away from the mirror, and was visibly shuddering with pleasure.

My wife was moaning too - she loved to use her tongue on a man's asshole, but I hadn't seen her rimming a stranger before.

I looked down and saw that Lizzie's thighs were trembling from the strain of kneeling and, it was clear, excitement, as a new stream ran down her thigh to the carpet - this time coming from her cunt juices.

Lizzie was lapping noisily now, licking, then pausing to push her tongue as far inside Anthony's anus as she could.

"Has he relaxed? Can you get in?", I asked her, quietly.

My wife nodded vigorously - her tongue was all the way into him as his muscles relaxed.

Pausing for breath, Lizzie looked at me and said, in a questioning tone, "Want to help?"

I paused for a moment - although I consider myself to have bisexual tendencies, it's not something I feel strongly about or indulge in frequently, but I could tell from the glazed look my wife was giving me, licking her lips, panting a little, that she wanted this to happen.

Holding Lizzie's gaze, I reached around Anthony's thigh and took his hard, warm cock in my left hand and started to stroke him.

"Fuck, oh fuck yes.", muttered Lizzie as she took a long look at my hand moving on Anthony's cock and, pulling his ass cheeks apart again, revealing a slick of her saliva, buried her face and got to work with her tongue.

Anthony, clearly feeling both of Lizzie's hands on his ass, glanced sharply down to see who was holding his cock. When he saw my hand moving up and down his hard shaft he gave a start and his body became tense, he was obviously in two minds about whether he wanted this to continue.

His cock, however, had no such qualms and twitched strongly in my hand.

Lizzie, sensing Anthony's unease, took her mouth from his asshole for a moment and said, gasping a little for breath, "It's OK, Anthony, just go with it. Besides, Martin is much better at jerking off than I am".

Giggling a little, Lizzie took a breath and then pushed her tongue into Anthony's asshole again.

Anthony relaxed quickly and was soon groaning loudly, his head bowed so he could watch as I stroked his cock faster. He pushed back against my wife's tongue in his ass, then thrust forward into my fist.

Lizzie must have felt him start to contract around her tongue at the same time as I felt his cock start to pulse in my hand.

Lizzie took one hand off of Anthony's ass but kept her tongue buried inside him, licking frantically, and, reaching between his thighs, held his heavy balls tightly.

As I stroked the full length of his cock, my fist would briefly touch my wife's hand at the base as she squeezed Anthony's balls, tighter and tighter until releasing them fully as he started to cum, resting them in her palm as she felt them contract.

Finally coming up for air, Lizzie watched, fascinated, as I stroked. She's right, I am an expert at this - most men are.

As soon as I felt Anthony start to cum - his cock contracting for seconds at a time before releasing, but no cum yet, just clear fluid running down his shaft - I slowed down to what I knew would be an almost painful pace.

Anthony, sweat dripping from his forehead as he looked down at his cock and my wife's face as she stared up at him, observing the scene with rapt attention, was beside himself as I moved my hand slower and slower.

"Fuck - please - don't stop.. please", he groaned through gritted teeth.

I stopped stroking but kept squeezing his cock in time with the strong pulsing of his cock and balls, making him moan out loud with frustration.

I nodded at Lizzie, who, kneeling on the other side of Anthony, bent at her waist and took the tip of his cock, slick with pre-cum, between her lips, licking around and over it, flicking her tongue over his wet slit.

Finally, gradually, agonizingly, Anthony came.

The moment the first glob of pure white cum emerged from him I began to stroke, fast and hard, and my wife took his cock into her mouth so that my fist was meeting her lips with every one of my upstrokes.

I was breathing hard, feeling Anthony's cock pulse and pump, and Lizzie and Anthony were moaning and grunting in pure pleasure and with complete abandon.

During Anthony's huge orgasm, Lizzie took his cock from her mouth and pointed it at the mirror in front of him, covering it in streams of heavy cum which began to slide slowly down to the wooden frame at the bottom.

When he was spent, sweating, shuddering, unsteady on his feet, Anthony moved to the chair I had vacated and sat, zombie-like, watching as my wife fell to all fours, her face inches from the cum-covered mirror, and I mounted her like an animal, fucking her hard and fast, by arms locked straight either side of her waist to support my weight as I rammed into her soaking cunt again and again.

I felt her cum, her cunt squeezing my cock, and, looking up, saw that she was running her tongue up the mirror in front of her - covering as much of it as she could reach, licking up Anthony's thick semen as it slid down the glass.

All the while my wife was staring at me in the mirror, her mouth filling with cum until, making sure to show me her mouth was finally full, she swallowed.

It was too much for me and sent me over the edge. I shouted obscenities, breathless and groaning, and came into my wife's dripping, gaping cunt.

When we woke, much later, lying on top of the bed cover, Anthony had gone.

One of my shirts was missing, which was fair considering Lizzie had ruined his.

As sometimes happens, for the rest of our stay at that hotel, Anthony avoided us, although I saw him standing at the railing of the roof bar, staring down at Lizzie's basically naked body as she sunbathed next to the pool, a very obvious erection bulging his shorts.