*** Disclaimer ***
The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, exhibitionism and NTR. If this isn't the fetish for you, don't waste your time flooding my inbox with hate mail-- it'll only make me want to write and post MORE cuck stuff (unless, of course, that's your goal...)
Otherwise, I love hearing from fans, and welcome any suggestions, thoughts, criticisms, or fantasy ideas. Enjoy!
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CUCKED IN THE TROPICS Ch. 01
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"I'm not sure this is what I was picturing," Callie admitted, the moment they stepped off the plane and onto the concourse. The airport was stifling hot, and the temperature hit them both like a slap in the face. More than just the heat, it was never more apparent that they weren't in the United States any longer. It was crowded, disorganized, loud, and there were more members of other ethnicities than she had seen in her 26 years in Indiana. Here, she and her husband were the minorities.
"Honey, that's racist," Jake corrected her.
Her eyes widened for a moment and a splash of color appeared across her bright apple cheeks. She looked around at the masses with an apologetic look in her eye. Jake took a moment to savor her discomfort. Callie always did have a very expressive face. Each emotion played across her features, more animated than a Disney princess in a cartoon. And her look of self-questioning embarrassment was one of his favorites. She had a way of darting her head around like an anxious puppy during 4th of July fireworks.
"I just meant, I didn't expect it to be like..."
"A third world country?" He asked.
She reddened again, fearful that someone might overhear their hushed voices. "Now who's being the racist?" she said uneasily, feeling wildly out of place. Indeed, both she and Jake stood out quite a bit in this crowd. Both were fair-skinned with strawberry blonde hair. Their features were very similar. They could have passed for brother and sister, although they weren't. They were newly weds. Callie's straight blonde hair hung down to nearly to her waist. The color was natural, not a hint of dye to it, and she had never done anything daring with it before, why start now? An inch or two longer, and she might have looked like a religious zealot living on a cult compound. Instead, her lack of makeup, honest good looks, small town upbringing, and long hair made her appear like a farmer's daughter, in the most classic sense. As did her hourglass figure. While Jake didn't consider himself a shallow guy, one of the most noticeable features about Callie (save for her nervous bashful smile) was her body. A pair of plump 36DD's sat above a waist that narrowed, then widened again to accommodate full hips and a big perky ass, made perkier by the way she had this cute little tendency to walk on the balls of her feet, giving a quirky bounce to her steps. All of it was accentuated by the outfit that she'd worn for the flight down-- a sundress. From the waist up, bright red and strapless-- almost as red as her cheeks. It hugged her breasts-- if anything, making them stand out even larger and fuller than they already were. And from the waist down, a breezy playful print of red flowers over a white backdrop that stopped at her knees. It wasn't mean to be showy, but each time Jake glanced at her, his eyes were instantly drawn to the bright red, the enormous swell of her chest, and the milky skin that showed.
He thought he saw more than a few men at the airport glance her way. But that might not have just been at Callie, but at him as well.
Jake also stood out as someone not from around here. His skin was just as pale, and he wore a pastel blue short sleeve button down, and white board shorts. Callie often liked to joke that he looked like Macaulay Culkin if the former Home Alone star had grown up to actually look cute and had developed some broad shoulders on his skinny frame. They were tourists, and it was obvious to everyone in the terminal.
Jake appeared far more at ease than Callie felt at the moment. She felt lost, slapped in the face by the reality that the world was a very large place beyond their hometown.
"C'mon," Jake took her by the hand. "It'll be different once we reach the resort."
Callie looked apprehensively at the mob of bustling strangers. "Do you think it's dangerous here? I don't want to get lost in the city." She clutched her purse closer to her body as she pulled her wheelie suitcase behind her.
"We don't need to worry about that. I called the resort ahead of time. They're sending out a guide to drive us and help us settle in. Think of it like a personal butler."
They moved through the crowd until Jake spotted a man with a sign that read "Mr. and Mrs. Decker." Sign aside, he wasn't hard to spot. He towered over much of the crowd like a statue on a pedestal.
"We're the Deckers," Jake greeted the man with a disarming smile. Callie's first impression of their guide was almost immediate intimidation. He was a wall of a man-- easily 6'8". He towered over the two of them. Callie had always considered her 5'6" frame average for a woman, but next to the guide, she felt like a dwarf. Jake too. His 5'8" build suddenly didn't seem so impressive. And the guide's complexion was nearly polar opposite of the newly married couple. He was dark, exotically so. His muscles huge, the smooth black skin of his arms like iron bands, barely contained by the thin breezy white button down that he wore-- somewhat open and casual. Vacation-like. He appraised the happy couple for a moment before extending his enormous paw toward Jake.
"I'm Andre," he said pleasantly with a deep resonant voice. Callie detected an accent. It was thick. French maybe? Callie couldn't fathom a guess as to what sorts of languages and heritage were common around here. Then Andre took her hand and peered into her eyes, lips peeling back to show bright white teeth.
"This is my wife, Callie," Jake said.
Callie's hand seemed to completely disappear in the man's giant paw.
"Welcome to paradise," he said with a piercing gaze that went on for just a moment too long and left Callie dazed and shy. "I promise to take good care of you while you're staying with us."
"Thank you," she smiled bashfully. When he finally released her hand, his eyes flicked momentarily to her chest.
It was nothing that Callie hadn't experienced before. Ever since she developed, her breasts had attracted attention. Often, she used them as a ploy to make Jake run late for work, or to arouse him at inappropriate moments. The way they reduced Jake into a stammering mess of raging hormones amused her. But from a stranger it was a little different... she was still processing how she felt about it, when Andre's eyes lifted from her chest right back to her eyes. He'd been caught looking. They both knew it. But instead of apologize, or shy away, he merely smiled. Oops... no big deal, right?
After what felt an eternity, Andre stooped and retrieved her luggage. He tossed the suitcase easily over one shoulder and helped Jake lug his. The man's biceps straining the fabric of his shirt, threatening to tear through like the Hulk.