"Right there. That is the best," my wife breathed. She let her hand relax, the split-fingered massage she had been giving herself forgotten as I had finally found just the right angle. As I increased the pace my gaze was distracted from my point of entry to watch as she traced a long fingernail past her navel, across one breast just grazing the nipple, and her left hand joined the right to press on the headboard. I leaned back a little more as she pressed herself against me, urging me deeper.
Her eyes caught me watching her. "You're amazing," she said, half-lidded. I grinned and slammed my pelvis into her as hard as I could, knowing the closer she got the rougher she liked it. Her eyes closed again and she started to breathe heavily and regularly through her nose, timing her exhales with my thrusts.
It was Saturday, the last full day of our beach vacation. We were back at our favorite resort hotel, our annual autumn retreat away from jobs and kids and into each other. I had consumed just the right number of mimosas at brunch and I couldn't have waited one more minute to get off the sand and strip off her "mom bikini" as she called it. She was farther gone than I was, so I was relieved that I might be able to break through the champagne haze and rouse her slumbering orgasm.
Her breasts had begun to bounce and oscillate with my thrusts and I was mesmerised. I was pinning her legs up with my hands on her thighs, bending her almost double as I kneeled and thrust into her. It was our favorite position. My curve and her bent position let me hit her G-spot perfectly, and I got to watch her big breasts and even better than that: I got to see her face as she came.
I let go of one of her thighs and licked my thumb. I reached back down and tugged gently on her nipple, rolling it lightly between my thumb and finger. Her lips parted and she moaned softly. I continued my thrusts and watched her face, anticipating. She extended her tongue halfway and when I still didn't understand, opened her eyes and said "give me your fingers." Feeling a little chagrined to have been so dense, I shifted slightly so I could get my middle and index finger to her extended tongue. She sucked them in immediately and started bobbing her head up and down. I recognized what she was doing with her tongue and lips as she fucked her face with my fingers - I had felt it many times on another part of my body.
I was getting into it now, and slid my fingers in deeper and deeper, not slowing my pace or easing the force with which I was ramming into her below. Finally I shoved my fingers in to the knuckles, as far as they would go. I could feel the base of her tongue as she started to moan loudly around my hand. Her eyes flew open and she froze, her whole body tense, holding her breath and I couldn't hold back any longer. I emptied myself into her as she started to tremble slightly, grunting with the release. Then she screamed, raked her nails down my chest, and had the most intense orgasm I had ever seen.
That was the moment I knew my wife wanted a three-way.
To my great surprise, she didn't want a nap after our exertions. "Let's keep drinking!" she said with a grin. "It's our last day!" I had no argument against that, so we decided to put our suits back on and head to the bar at the pool.
We always take these "mommy and daddy" trips in the early fall, soon after the kids start back to school. Their grandparents are happy to have the time, and the kids are distracted with the new year. Plus, there are two great things about vacation in the fall: there are generally only adults around the pool, and football season has started. I was happy enough to head to the pool bar and catch a game, and I had a feeling my wife was looking for some adult interaction at poolside.
I'm 22 years older than my wife. She's never allowed me to be insecure about it, and I believe her when she tells me doesn't need or want anything else. Today. In the back of my mind I know that I'll be getting older as she's entering her sexual prime and I hope that I can keep up and keep her satisfied. I've been preparing myself for the past eleven years of marriage to look the other way if the time comes that she needs to look outside our wedding bed for release.
I've never been sure that I can handle it. I try to put myself in her position in a few years: done having kids, menopause is still way beyond the horizon, she's fit and has her body back, and she's horny as hell and knows what she's doing. I know she loves me, and I know she won't leave me, but I want and need her to be happy. I know the time may come for her when fucking an old man with a half-hard dick may not satisfy.
I have plenty of opportunities to prepare myself mentally for this possible future because my wife is a huge flirt. She very much enjoys the attention of attractive men, and it doesn't escape my notice that when we're out in a crowd and get separated, there is almost always a young, tan, fit man chatting casually with her within 10 minutes. I never blame either one of them. My wife is an extremely hot mom, with a great fit body and long dark hair, and I'm sure she enjoys the company of a man from her generation from time to time.
Plus it never fails to make her out of her mind horny.
So I was pretty sure that her half-drunk plan that day was for me to get into football at the bar so that she could find a hard young man at the pool who would get her charged and wet for round two later that evening. I was 100% okay with this plan, so I pretended not to notice when she slipped her wedding ring off and fluffed out her hair before we left.
Sure enough, before we were halfway done with our first drink she said "I think I'll catch some more sun by the pool."
"Okay," I said, "but I don't want to get too much sun. I think I'll..."
"Oh, no sweetheart," she interrupted. "I know you want to watch the game. Come find me later?"
I looked her in the eyes and halfway grinned. I could see her blush rising, but I let her off the hook.
"You're right. I do want to watch the game," I said.
"I'll just be over there by the pool," she said.
I smiled, kissed her, then watched her walk out to the poolside. As the sun hit her back she pulled her beach wrap from her legs and I know I was not the only man there who was admiring her large firm backside. She parked on a lounge in a deserted corner of the pool area and I watched as she ordered another drink from the poolside waiter.
I finished my drink and let my attention return to the game for a while. When the bartender delivered my next margarita at the start of the second half, I glanced over to the pool. It had only been twenty minutes, but there was a dark haired modestly muscular man sitting on the lounge next to my wife, facing her and in what looked like a jovial conversation. He had a smooth hairless body, very tan, probably only in his mid-twenties. He laughed at something, and she leaned forward and touched his forearm lightly, continuing the joke.
I grinned wryly, turned back to the game and thought about how wet and lustful she would be for me.