Author's Note: Once again thanks for the votes and ratings on my other stories. I asked my wife what topic she wanted me to write about and she said I should have someone tied up. I couldn't decide if the husband or wife should be tied up, so I wrote two stories. The other one is getting finished up while I hope you enjoy this one.
The tropical sun felt wonderful on Angela's bare breasts. She had her eyes closed and the lounge chair at the perfect angle to get the morning sun to warm her luscious, round oil slicked mounds and hopefully darken her usual tan line. Her blond hair was slicked back so her face would get equal sun in all areas, and her small-but not tiny-bikini bottom was rolled down so much that if she hadn't gotten her "vacation haircut" you'd be able to see a hint of her pubic hair sticking out. She was in heaven.
Although no longer in her twenties, or even her thirties, Angela was a beautiful woman. She didn't have a skinny model's body, and of course there were things she'd like to kick Father-Time's ass for, like the tiny bit of loose skin near her armpits, or the disappearing dimples in her cheeks. But she was still hard not to notice. Her stomach, even after a couple kids, was still flat-ish (and her pussy was still snug, according to her husband). Her 38D breasts looked great in sweaters, tank tops, evening gowns, bikinis or all by themselves with nothing between them and the sun. Although just over 5 feet tall, her shapely legs seemed to almost be 5 feet tall just by themselves. Her round ass completed the package. Ryan, her husband, loved to knead and pat that ass whether they were naked in bed having sex, or if she was doing the dishes with sweats on. It was an ass that he worshiped, and one most men would if they had the chance. All together, Angela was sexy. Every part of her looked like it was "built for speed", as Ryan described her after a few drinks.
She liked that he found her attractive after being married for so long and having a couple kids nearly raised together. She tolerated the attention she got from other men and was expertly adept at deflecting unwanted advances from his coworkers and fathers of their kids friends.
But when she heard a soft, but masculine voice ask "Is this one open?" and she opened her eyes and held her hand up to shield them from the sun, she was taken by surprise to see the stunning, tall and fit young black man who owned it looking at her (and making sure to look at her FACE).
"Oh sure. Nobody's using it. I mean someone was using it, but they left. I mean I think they left. I'm pretty sure they left...Yeah, it's open." What the hell was that, she thought. This guy was stunning. Not like a pro athlete or a guy who was obsessed with working out, but just gorgeous with muscular arms, sinewy thighs, a very flat, modestly rippled stomach and blue eyes. She figured it was the eyes that were throwing her for a loop.
"Thank you. Do you mind if I use it?" He hadn't stopped looking at her face and was being extremely polite. She did a gut check in an instant to see if there was a creep factor with him, as she was often used to the being approached by creepy guys, especially with her bare tits hanging out. But in that instant, she assessed the situation: this was one of the few unoccupied lounge chairs by the pool; there was at least one empty lounge next to another topless girl; he held sunscreen, a towel and a very thick book in his hand. He looked like he wanted alone time as much as anything, so her final judgment was that he was definitely not a creep.
"Oh sure. Go ahead, please." She decided that she needed to calm down. He laid his stuff on the lounge and then grabbed the foot end to move it so it would face the optimal direction for the sun. He was looking up at the sun while he did it and accidentally hit the table Angela had her tropical drink on and it fell on the deck spilling entirely. She jumped to try to catch it, but missed and only managed to catch a bunch of the drink though her fingers, which she could feel getting sticky already.
"Oh jeez. Damnit. I'm really sorry about that. I swear, I'll get you another. Here wipe your hands," he handed her his towel.
"Oh don't worry about it. My husband is coming back with another one for me already. It's no big deal. But are you always this clumsy?" She teased him, and it flustered him a little. This was a nice sincere man, she thought to herself.
Just then Ryan did return with two drinks with little umbrellas in them. Seeing Angela in the tiniest bit of distress and noticing both the spilled drink and the studley black man close to her, he asked "everything OK here?" as he walked up.
"Oh yeah, everything's fine. This guy just thought I was tired of my drink and dumped it out for me. Don't get too close, he might knock you in the pool by accident or something. Maybe we can find him a tippy cup to use from now on." Angela had a great sense of humor and unleashed on anyone, especially when she was nervous. "This is my husband, Ryan. He probably won't try to kick your ass for spilling my $2.00 drink."
Ryan set the drinks down next to her and stuck out his hand. He was also used to the attention his wife got from men. He tolerated it knowing that she could handle most anyone of them, but could tell that this guy wasn't creeping or bugging her, so his handshake was sincere. "Hi. Nice to meet you. You owe me two bucks."
"My name's Jesse. I'll definitely get the next round." They shook hands. Ryan noticed, because it would be impossible not to notice, that Jesse had large strong hands. He was glad this was a nice guy because he could probably be pretty intimidating if he wasn't.