We needed a vacation. We had been saving for three years with the thought of taking a vacation far off, some tropical island where we could go for a week, do whatever we wanted without the demands of either of our jobs or the structure of our normal lives. It would be fantastic and totally different for sure. We searched possible locations and decided we could relax just as well on a Caribbean Island as on Tahiti or some other very far away place and it would be much cheaper to get there and we'd have more money to use for outright fun. It would be great to go and act like we really had money and not worry about every dollar we spent. That's why we had managed to accumulate several thousand dollars – actually well over ten thousand dollars for our trip. We kidded each other about having wild and exotic adventures in this place where no one knew us. Little did we know.
We searched the internet, travel magazines and what seemed like a million other sources trying to find the best place for our vacation when, one day, we realized that most any of those warm and beautiful Caribbean islands were do just fine and so, we then began to compare prices and air fares and finally decided on Belize since one travel site had a two for one air fare price which was unbeatable. We found a place to stay, booked our reservations and waited excitedly for the time to come. A week away on a desert island – well, not really a desert island but at least far, far away from anything we were used to. And the accommodations sounded great, we'd have our own little bungalow.
The day arrived, packing had actually arrived a couple of days before as we anticipated, and then we were on the plane for a beautiful ride through clear and sunny skies with a bright blue ocean beneath us nearly all the way, beckoning us to relaxation and adventure. The landing was smooth, the deplaning fast and simple and soon we were in the courtesy car heading for the resort. It was a unique sort of place with several enclaves of four separate living quarters which consisted of a small lounge area, a bedroom and, of course, a bathroom. The little bungalows were grouped around a center space with lounge chairs, a fire pit, a small soaking pool and a rather large hot tub which would accommodate all eight people who might be staying in the bungalows. It was pretty amazing in that each of the groupings were separated by about 50 yards of jungle so each had a bit of its own privacy.
We found our little unit and deposited our luggage, noting that there didn't seem to be anyone else around yet. We plopped down on the couch and Kirsten, my wife, said casually, "Seems like a honeymoon, you know." That was about all I needed, despite the long day.
"You're right," I said, standing up and removing my shirt. Then I undid my belt and, wide-eyed, she got the message and was perfectly in sync with it. As my pants fell to the floor she unzipped her dress and pulled it off over her head. As my underpants dropped, her bra was off with the panties close behind. We stood there gazing at each other longingly. Kirsten would not have fit Hugh Hefner's picture of perfection but she certainly did mine. Actually, I'm not sure whether she fulfilled my idea of perfection or whether she shaped it but it didn't matter either way. She was 5'-5" and about 130 pounds of delicious female, with 34B breasts that were perfect cones and stuck straight out with rosy nipples, now nicely erect, and a beautiful triangular muff that completed the picture. I'm about 5'-10" and 150 pounds of athletic fitness, having always played multiple sports, and avoided getting more than the absolute minimum of body fat.
Now the gazing time was over and she stepped over in front of me, took my very erect penis in her hand and pressed her open lips to mine. Our tongues explored, our throats each generated some soft moans and my finger quickly parted the wetness between her legs and began massaging her rather substantial clitoris which caused her to grunt loudly and collapse on the couch. I had challenged her before to let me bring her to climax while she was standing but she said that would never happen as her legs just wouldn't hold her as that feeling overwhelmed her. So she lay back on the couch and I moved onto it as well, swinging around so we were head to feet at each end and then I began the 69 action that both of us liked so well. Somehow, I guess, the setting, the anticipation and the finally getting there was more than I could handle so I quickly spun around, spread her legs and put that throbbing member where it belonged, into her, accompanied by her, "Oh yeah, oh yeah." The orgasm was fantastic, if very quick and I rubbed her clit vigorously for just a short time when her body tensed, arched and began to jerk as an, ooooooohhhhhh," came out of her mouth.
"Welcome to Belize," I said, smiling at her.
"I like it so far," was her quiet reply.
Reluctantly we got up, found our clothes and dressed again which was fortunate as we heard voices outside our front door. We went outside together to find four people standing there, big smiles on their faces.
"Hi there, newcomers," a man about my size and build said. "I'm Marshall and this is my wife, Libby. We're in the bungalow over there," he added, gesturing to his left.
"And I'm Rich and this is my wife, Alison," the much shorter man said. We're in the bungalow straight across.
I smiled at each in turn. "Well, I'm Pat and this is my wife, Kirsten. And we're in the bungalow right here," I added gesturing behind me. Everyone laughed.
"I think the other one is empty, at least so far," Libby said. I studied her, hopefully without appearing to do so as I took turns looking at the others but letting my gaze drift back to her. She was about Kirsten's height, a little slender but with shapely legs highlighted by the tight black shorts she wore and the bright orange muscle shirt not hiding the ample bosom underneath it. I wanted to give her a pat on the back to quickly determine if she had on a bra, which I highly suspected she didn't, but thought it not appropriate yet. She seemed to have a pretty face but it was difficult to determine as she had on thick glasses that distorted her eyes.
We chatted amiably about where we were from, etc., and discovered we were spread about as far apart as possible with Marshall and Libby from Maine, Rich and Alison from Montana and us from Ohio. Of course I took this chance to check out Alison as well, she being about 5'-2" and a little on the chunky side. Her Bermuda shorts were a little less revealing but her tank top hid another set of rather large ta-tas. Her face, framed by some medium length reddish-blond hair, was nicely cute.
We sat around for some time talking, then decided to meet for dinner which happened in a large building quite a ways from where our bungalows were. And, what I haven't mentioned is that you could hear the ocean waves breaking just behind our place as the beach and the water were right there, just through a patch of jungle.
Everyone headed for their bungalows to get ready for dinner and when we went inside I suggested to Kirsten, half-jokingly, that we have another quicky to which she pulled up her dress, pulled down her panties saying, "If you can get that thing up I'm ready." Her saying that got that thing up and we had our second consummation right there before dinner. This was going to be quite a week, I could tell.
We met the others, now all dressed up, if you call dressy shorts and a nicer shirt dressed up, and had a delicious dinner followed by several bottles of delectable wine that had us all in a buzz fairly quickly. Lots of giggling and laughter followed as we shared stories and found we had a lot in common. As I finished my last glass of wine I noticed Marshall get up, disappear for a minute, then reappear with two bottles of that special dinner wine we'd all enjoyed so much. Not wanting to be outdone, I ventured to the bar and picked up another two bottles only to discover Rich there, also getting two more. Back at the table we all decided that, after the hard day of travel, we should all relax in the hot tub, with the wine of course. We kind of half stumbled, half walked to our enclave, not being able to see well in the dark and, once there, quickly put on our bathing suits and headed for the hot tub. Kirsten had a fairly modest two-piece that never-the -less made her look pretty good. Alison was in a one-piece that did a good job of hiding her pudginess but Libby was in a white bikini that did little to hide anything but simply covered the necessary spots minimally. When she appeared I must have gawked a bit as I felt a sharp elbow in my ribs.
The hot tub was very relaxing even though the temperature tonight didn't seem to require a "hot" tub. We moderated the water temperature a bit to match the air temperature and were very comfortable, particularly since each of us had a glass of wine in hand. We sipped and talked and sipped some more until finally, the first real excitement of the evening took place. It was innocent enough as Libby decided to change her position just as Marshall reached for a bottle of wine. His reaching fingers hooked in the top of her bikini and suddenly there was a beautiful and glistening bare white boob right in front of all of us.
"Oops," Marshall said, chagrined.
"Sorry," Libby said as she stuffed her breast back inside the suit, her face a little crimson even in the dim light.
Kirsten, trying to salvage the conversation said, "I guess we've all had embarrassing situations in our lives."
"And tonight was my turn," Libby added, "thanks to my husband." She sent a mock glare in his direction.
"Well," I said, "I remember one time at work . . . "
"You're not going to tell that are you," Kirsten broke in.
"Sure, why not. I was walking through the factory one day when that sudden urge overtook me and I had to get to the rest room fast. There are a lot of rest rooms in the factory, arranged differently in different places and I was in a hurry. As I went through the door I was unzipping and, um, otherwise getting ready and moving quickly to the urinals when I noticed there weren't any urinals and heard a little scream. I quickly, um, tucked it away and headed out of the women's rest room and barely made it to the men's. There was good news and bad news. The good news was that, since I was where I worked, I didn't get arrested for indecent exposure. The bad news was that I had to see the screamer periodically at work and she always wagged a finger at me along with a knowing giggle."
There were murmurs of laughter and then Alison raised her hand.
"I have one too. One day I was home alone and had just finished my shower. The bathroom was on the first floor and the doorbell rang. At first I was going to ignore it but I had ordered a couple of things online and thought the bell might signal a delivery. I grabbed a towel and held it in front of me, went to the door and opened it just a crack. There was a guy there who I recognized from the high school where we always gave money to support the wrestling team. I remembered the money was on the desk across the room so I ran over and got it and came back, noting that the door had swung open just a little more. I opened the screen door a crack and stuck the $20 bill through the opening. He took it, smiled and thanked me profusely. I closed the door and, as I started back toward the bathroom I saw my reflection in the mirror hanging on the front closet door. The towel did a great job of covering my front, but there was nothing on the back. So, I had mooned the guy from the wrestling group . . . and had to see him every so often as time passed. I'm sure he always enjoyed seeing my cheeks redden whenever we met." She looked at me and nodded.
I couldn't help but speculate and imagine what Alison's butt might look like as she nodded to me. She was a little on the pudgy side, not overly so, but just a bit squishy and the thought of her cheeks jiggling as she went to get the $20 was kind of enticing. And, those big boobs didn't hurt the vision at all.
We shared a few more embarrassing stories which loosened people up as they always do, along with the wine of course, and everyone was laughing and giggling. Suddenly a thought popped into my mind.
"I have a friend, John Wilson, who has a thought about hot tubs."
"Knowing John Wilson, this should be really good," Kirsten chipped in.
"John always said that there should be a national law that all hot tubbing should be done naked."
"That would be John," Kirsten quipped.
"Great idea," Rich said, laughing and taking another sip of wine.
"Oh my gosh, yes," was Marshall's contribution. He looked at Libby. "Imagine if you could tell the girls at home, 'oh yes, we were naked in the hot tub in Belize, with several other couples.'"
Libby laughed. "They wouldn't believe me if I didn't have pictures."
