Authors Note:
This a story that contains cuckolding and small penis humiliation. You should not read further if you find these topics offensive.
This is the first story of Evolution of Desires the series. If you enjoy this story, I encourage you to read the others.
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After twenty-three years of marriage and raising kids, Jackie and I were finally on a vacation just for the two of us, the first since our honeymoon. With our youngest off to college, the house suddenly felt big and quiet.
For a while now, we'd been planning a getaway with our longtime friends, Greg and Nancy. We've known them since before we even tied the knot, but never had we taken a trip together. Greg, with his booming business, and Nancy, enjoying her leisure, often choose lavish vacation spots. This time, we all decided on the Galley Bay Resort and Spa in Antigua. It's an all-inclusive place that fit our budget. While Greg and Nancy booked the priciest suite, Jackie and I settled into a comfy standard room.
Greg and Nancy had already settled into the resort a week before our arrival. We'd barely unpacked when they rapped on our door, inviting us to share a meal and some stories. Despite living fairly close, our bustling work lives often kept our get-togethers few and far between.
Over dinner, Greg was in his usual form: teasing and slightly boastful. He went on about the new friends he'd made in just a week, emphasizing how chummy he'd gotten with the concierge. "I've got a guy now," he claimed, suggesting he could now get us anything we might want during our stay.
His playful banter took a turn when he started teasing Jackie. He inquired about her choice of swimwear, bikinis or one-pieces, to which she tactfully sidestepped. But Greg didn't stop there, mentioning a nearby nude beach and jesting that her swimwear choices wouldn't matter if we visited. Jackie, never one to be outdone, playfully retorted, "I bet you'd enjoy that sight!" with her nipples poking through her sundress hinting at her arousal.
When Jackie excused herself to the restroom, Nancy quickly decided to accompany her. As they left, Greg and I couldn't help but watch the contrasting duo navigate their way.
Jackie, standing at a graceful 5'7", moved with a natural elegance. Each step she took showcased her slender stature and the rhythmic swing of her brunette locks that mirrored the sway of her sundress. Despite being 55, she carried herself with such poise that she could easily pass for a woman in her early forties.
Keeping pace beside her was Nancy, a bit shorter at 5'4". Her shorter legs meant she had to quicken her steps to match Jackie's stride. I've always found Nancy to be quite the looker, even if she wasn't typically my type. With her sandy blonde hair, often resting just above her generous d-cups, she was a sight. A regular at the gym like Greg, her athletic build was evident, especially in her toned legs which showed the strain of keeping up with Jackie's longer strides.
After a hearty dinner, the evening's setting shifted to the nearby lounge, its ambiance beckoning us for some post-dinner entertainment. Lounges were Greg's natural habitat, a place where he often wooed potential business collaborators with his charm.
That evening, the lounge hosted a limbo competition, complete with enticing prizes. Ever the enthusiast, Greg didn't waste a second. He roped in Nancy and Jackie to participate, their wrists wrapped in his playful grasp. He motioned for me to join, but I opted to stay put, ensuring our seats, drinks, and the ladies' belongings were secure.
The initial setting of the limbo bar was laughably high. This made the first round more of a playful initiation than a challenge. Nancy, given her height, effortlessly waltzed under without so much as bending her knees. Jackie just had to slightly lean her head back. Greg, towering at 6'3", was the spectacle, having to curve his back noticeably even at this early stage. The trio's rhythm was set: Nancy breezed through, followed by Jackie's graceful pass and then Greg's more cumbersome efforts. After each successful round, they'd circle back to our table, refreshing themselves with a sip before diving back into the competition line.
The rounds were becoming more of a ritual. Nancy, Jackie, and Greg would each shimmy beneath the bar, and, upon their success, retreat to our table for a celebratory sip before re-entering the line. As the game progressed, I noticed a distinct change in Greg's approach to the competition. He edged closer to Jackie, his lean body melding with hers, their contours becoming one silhouette in the dim lounge lights. His hands found a natural resting place on her hips, pulling her close, their proximity leaving no room for ambiguity.
The limbo bar's descent narrowed the field of participants, and soon, our trio was among the last contenders. Amid the excitement, I lost track of the game's progress. It was Nancy's vibrant bounce back to the table that drew my attention. Her exuberant display unintentionally diverted my gaze, leaving me unprepared for what happened next.
Jackie's startled yelp refocused my attention. Greg, in an overly eager move, had tried to limbo simultaneously with Jackie, causing a misstep. They tumbled down, Greg's arms instinctively wrapping around her. The fall landed Jackie squarely in his embrace, his hands, whether by accident or design, firmly cupping her breasts. The scene they painted was undeniably suggestive. The two lingered, pinned in that intimate pose, their laughter ringing out, but their physical connection remained unbroken. Greg's eyes sparkled mischievously as he took advantage of the moment, continuing to grope my wife unabashedly before the watching crowd.
Rising slightly, Jackie shifted, ending up seated squarely on Greg's lap, mirroring a provocative reverse-cowgirl pose. Greg's enthusiasm showed no signs of abating. He gripped her hips, pulling her closer, and let out a playful, "Oh yeah!"
I sat there, my expression a cocktail of shock, disbelief, and intrigue. Nancy's eyes darted between the spectacle and me, a hint of amusement playing on her lips.
Recovering from their public display, Jackie and Greg returned to the table, their faces flushed with a mix of exertion and exhilaration. The evening's events had taken a turn no one anticipated, except maybe Greg, and as the last of our drinks were downed, we collectively decided it was time to retire for the night.
In our room, the air was charged with an unspoken energy. Jackie was more intense, ignited by the night's events and the alcohol coursing through her veins. We didn't make it far before our hands were pulling at each other's clothes, urgency sending them to the floor as we tumbled onto the bed.