Limelight

Author's note: This story continues the marital adventures of Jerry and Karen, four months after "Aftermath."

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With a massive groan I exploded balls deep inside my wife's pussy. We were spooned on our marital bed, my arm wrapped around her sweaty waist, when I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Honey, I think I just came a gallon's worth. Are you ready for another baby?"

My wife groaned and shook and rumbled like a volcano about to explode. Not from an orgasm, no, she already had one of those during our fuck session. And not from the joy of impending motherhood, no, she had a hysterectomy seven years earlier. No, my wife was about to talk, the one thing in life that she enjoyed more than sex.

"Oh my God!.....I loved it when you changed the pace of your thrusts when you... da da da da da da da da da da....and when you changed the angle where you were hitting the sides... da da da da da da da... and that role playing about me getting pregnant was so hot... da da da da da da da... do you really want another baby... da da da da da da da... "

Some women have beautiful accents, perhaps a soft Carolina twang or a sultry silky French lilt. My wife, however, when she gets really excited, talks in an abrasive staccato that reminds one of automatic machine gun fire. It has been a necessary marital survival technique to have a selective ear over our twenty two years of wedded happiness.

Since she was talking about sex, my brain tried it's best to keep up in the post orgasmic cool down, but it's rarely possible. I grunted a few times to reassure her that I was trying to listen.

I consider the communication level in our marriage to be excellent. She communicates and I listen. My grandfather many years ago gave me some great advice on my wedding day, "Son, make your words count. Don't waste them. Choose your arguments carefully. When you speak, make sure she knows it's the bottom line."

I'd never felt more connected to my wife, both literally and figuratively in those moments of post coital bliss. I remained buried in her as she verbalized all her feelings, sensations, and emotions. These expressions, I believed, were every bit as pleasurable for her as the pounding she had just received.

"Da da da da da da da da da da..."

My mind started wandering to the start of the NFL season and our upcoming vacation. Who do the Steelers play in the first game? Denver? Is Peyton now with the Broncos? When do our passports expire?

"Honey?" she asked, returning to her normal voice.

"Yes, Dear..."

"Are you listening to me?"

"I heard every word you said..."

"Can I ask a big favor of you?"

"Anything..."

"Well...you know we're going on this vacation next month... and you look so good. I mean, you lost a lot of weight and you're in the best shape of your life. God, you're lasting so long I can hardly take it anymore..."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Oh no! It's great! I mean, it's like you turned back the clock to when we were first married. Remember some of those nights we had?"

"Of course, how could I forget...we went through seven mattresses in the first two and a half years. We literally fucked our way into debt. Twenty years later the salesman at the furniture store still sends us Christmas cards. And why can't we have those nights again, dear?"

"Well, I'm forty four years old and working sixty hours a week, but maybe on this vacation..."

"So what's the favor?"

"Oh yes... my mind wandered there a bit...well, you look really trim and your clothes fit you really good right now and I was wondering if you would consider completing the look..."

"Completing the look?"

"I want you to color your hair. I'm sick of the gray! Please? For me... I swear it would make you look ten years younger."

"I thought you liked the touch of gray? Didn't you tell me it made me look distinguished?"

"Yes... but now you're back to your hunk weight and I want to show you off on vacation."

"Hunk weight?"

"Aren't you down to about two hundred pounds? You look really lean..."

"One hundred ninety three when I stepped in the shower this morning," I said proudly. "Do you really think I'm a hunk?"

"No, silly, I know that you're MY hunk."

"Well, considering that statement, buy the damn shoe polish. Just pick out a box for me the next time you're at Wegmans, but don't make it too dark. I'd look foolish. Anything else to 'complete the look,' as you say?"

"I bought you some Crest whitening strips. All that coffee you drink makes your teeth look yellow."

"OK..."

"And I'm making an appointment for you to have a pedicure. Your toenails are disgusting."

"Is that all?"

"One more thing... I want to shave your back. The gorilla look isn't sexy on the beach."

"Anything else?"

"No, and thank you."

"No problem. Now, honey, I have a vacation request of my own..."

"Really?"

"As I've told you, we are going to an all inclusive where there will be lots of couples. But I'm not going on vacation to socialize or people watch. All I'm interested in or care about is you, and I want you to have my total focus and attention. I don't even want to look at another woman the entire week. So basically, my request of you is... I want to see lots of cleavage and leg, twenty four seven."

"Oh my!"

"That's right, I want you to buy some revealing tops and sexy dresses, for me, and I'm willing to go shopping with you to find them. Essentially, I want you to keep me on the sexual edge all week. I want my dick hard and for you to have the constant threat of being fucked at any moment. We, Karen, are going on a sex vacation and I'm going to give you everything you can handle!" I proclaimed triumphantly.

"And you're willing to go shopping with me?" my wife asked incredulously.

"Yes... I also took my crème colored suit to Freddie's to have it altered, and I rented a tuxedo. I've always wanted to live out the James Bond fantasy, so now that I'm fifty, I figured what the hell... Honey, we're going to look like a million bucks at dinner time! For your part, I want to see some boobage and I want to see some thigh..."

"Is this where you make a Pussy Galore joke?"

"I'm being dead serious, Karen."

"And you're ACTUALLY willing to go shopping with me?"

"Yes, but we'll be buying clothes to make my dick hard...OK?"

"Well, what wife would pass up an opportunity like that? Now I'm really looking forward to going..."

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The genesis of our vacation was our two young sons deciding that they wanted to party rather than be serious students at their expensive private college. Since they couldn't hack it, Karen and I figured it would be best to let them HACC (Harrisburg Area Community College) it this school year, freeing up some serious dollars. Oh yes, and we made them pay their own tuition after wasting our hard earned savings last year.

Their mother was extremely disappointed, but we tried to view this as part of the growing up process. I always marvel how parents are more invested in their children's future than the young men and women themselves. Maturity comes at different stages for everyone, I guess...

A visit to Tripadvisor and Expedia allowed me to research and book a vacation in a matter of hours. The chosen resort was highly rated, a great value, adults only, and sat on one of the most beautiful stretches of beach on the Mexican Riviera south of Playa del Carmen. When I showed Karen the resort photos, she gave me a hug that was almost worth the cost of the trip. We both had been working so hard and needed a break.

Over the next four weeks, we shopped at various department stores and specialty shops like Victoria's Secret, buying dresses and tops, bathing suits, push up bras and lacy panties, each of us having veto power if something was too outrageous. We both wanted sexy, not slutty.

I think my wife enjoyed my attention and I enjoyed the public fashion shows, my only complaint being the lack of comfortable chairs or any chair by the women's dressing room. The woman's clothing section of department stores are simply not husband friendly.

A week before we were about to leave I visited my doctor to get some prescription antibiotics to take along; also convincing him to give me some samples of various Erectile Dysfunction products. Even though I really didn't need them, I didn't want to take any chances. I was planning on some serious fucking this vacation and my doctor was merely looking after my mental state. He's truly concerned with my total health, my chemical backup plan putting my mind at ease.

On the first day of October, Karen and I caught a direct flight from BWI to Cancun on Air Tran, an hour van ride south, and by early afternoon we were sipping margaritas in God's paradise. The beach's sand looked like powered sugar and the water was so ice blue, it was like we stepped into Corona beer commercial. Karen was wearing a Ujena one piece halter bathing suit that flattered her figure. I had stolen my older son's board shorts and was trying to show off my almost abdominals. Well, I saw them anyway...

The resort was run by an Italian company, and was affiliated with an Italian travel club, so there were quite a few topless European women bathing on the beach. Karen was fascinated at the casual nature of their nudity. She was actually more interested in the other women than I was.

"Look at those!" she whispered in my ear. "Her breasts are so are firm!"

"Look, her tits are shaped like a cognac glass..."

"Look at that old woman! Her boobs are hanging down to her belly button..."

"Karen, why don't you give it a try?" I suggested, fingering the string behind her neck.

"My breasts sag too much..."

"Honey, your breasts hang like the most delicious ripe pieces of fruits I've ever seen. They're just waiting to be picked and eaten. Your nipples are world class, in fact..."

"Maybe in a couple of days I'll get up the courage..."

"No pressure, whatever makes you comfortable."

I smiled to myself. Ideas develop slowly in Karen's mind. At that moment, I had a feeling the end of the week could be very memorable.

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After a couple of hours of walking the crescent beach and feeding the angle fish in the gentle ocean, we headed upstairs to get ready for dinner. Two hours later, Karen stepped out of the bathroom wearing a low cut black evening gown looking like a tanner version of Anya Amasova in "The Spy Who Loved Me." Mrs. Richard Starkey had absolutely nothing on my wife.

"God, you look amazing... Are you sure you just don't want to skip dinner. I'm sure I could find something in this room to eat..." I suggested.

"You can have THAT for dessert. I want to show you off, but damn, I may have to beat the women off with a stick tonight you look so handsome..." My classic shawl collared tuxedo fit like a glove.

"Well, let's go have a drink then..."

As we slowly meandered the stone path to the lobby bar, I'd never walked with greater posture in my entire life. And having Karen as a partner, looking so beautiful and sexy, I'd never felt prouder. Talking about our lives together, we promised ourselves that we were going to live full throttle and not hold back.

We were not in the Mujaba Club in Cairo, Karen didn't order a Barcardi on the rocks, nor I a vodka martini, but there was a surreal quality to our arrival at the lobby bar. We got lots of strange looks and a few smiles as we ordered our margaritas. We were amazed at how casual the other guests were dressed for dinner; almost everyone was in shorts and t-shirts. Only one other man even bothered with kakis...

We settled into a corner table to enjoy each other. Karen noticed my hard-on as I sat down and smiled from ear to ear. Dinner simply couldn't end fast enough for me...

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"Thank goodness, we finally meet a couple with a little life in them," spoke a very attractive young woman approaching our table. "This resort is the most laid back place we've ever been. It's almost dead... So, do you fancy yourself to be Sean Connery or Roger Moore?"

"Is my fantasy that obvious? Well, I want to be Sean Connery but I'd settle for Roger Moore... What do you think?"

"Tall, angular and handsome, not quite Pierce Brosnan, but maybe after two more drinks... By the way, I'm Gina and this is my husband Greg. And your stunning companion is...?"

"This is my wife, Karen."

I stood up to shake Greg's hand and Karen invited them to have a drink with us. Greg and Gina were what people from Pennsylvania envision when one mentions southern California, tanned, blond, healthy, and in shape. They were probably in their early thirties.

Gina looked like she was at one time in the pages of Playboy magazine. Greg was a rather average looking guy who got very lucky. They were both super nice and friendly as we each told about our lives on the opposite coasts. Gina and Karen talked about shopping and celebrity sightings, while Greg and I compared his Tesla to our Fusion Hybrid. We also talked about the Kings run to the Stanley Cup and Sid's concussion problems.

The wives agreed that we should have dinner together and soon we were eating an Italian version of Mexican food. The chimichangas back in Harrisburg were tastier but the margaritas were hitting the spot. Gina and Karen were chatting like old friends as I excused myself to go to the bathroom and Greg ended up trailing along. After relieving myself, Greg pulled me off to the side for a conversation.

"Jerry, I'm happily married but as you can see, I'm an average looking guy at best. Gina on the other hand..." his voice trailed off.

"...looks like a model or an actress." I finished his sentence. "Congratulations to you..."

"Well, she was runner up Miss Coppertone Santa Barbara in 2001 and she got a bit speaking part in 'Alien Invasion of the Sorority House' in 2003," Greg said proudly.

"What were her lines in the movie?"

"One line. In the shower she screamed, 'Please don't put that purple thing in me!'"

"Nice, but no Academy Award, huh?'

"No, obviously not... But now she's just a housewife with a fist full of credit cards. You see, I'm from a rather prominent family and I have some money. That's how a guy like me was able to snag her. Now I'm just an average guy in every way and early in our marriage...well... I sensed that Gina was getting restless. I will never tolerate any screwing around back where we live; however, I love her to death and never want to lose her. At heart, she really is a good girl. We met at a charity function for Cerebral Palsy ten years ago..."

"Basically, to make a long story short, we came to an agreement in our marriage that I would allow her to play whenever we went on vacation, but never at home. Once or twice a year, we come to these resorts and she finds some young muscle bound Latino type and has a marathon session with him. Condoms are required."

"I don't like it. In fact, I hate it. But I love her, and I've learned to handle it over the years. She doesn't verbally disrespect me, and one night seems to satisfy her for a while. To answer the questions in your mind, yes, I've had her followed at home, and no, she hasn't otherwise cheated on me to my knowledge... And no, I don't get off on her screwing other guys. I usually pop a nerve pill and sit in the closet praying. In spite of how difficult it is, I'm always in the room for her protection."

"Greg... I don't know what to say. Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"She came to this resort thinking that there would be lots of Italian stallions to choose from, however, almost everybody is partnered up, and the ones that aren't, well, nobody has really interested her. Everyone here seems to smoke and that's a big turnoff."

"On two other occasions, she found a couple to play with, and when she does, she allows me to have casual contact with another woman. At dinner tonight, she gave me the signal that she wants you to...huh... have her, and I must say that I am quite amazed. You're the first older man that she's ever wanted. You must have really got to her with that whole tuxedo get up. My congratulations, you should be very flattered."

"Karen is quite attractive for an older woman. I certainly would be honored to fool around with her in any way that you would deem acceptable if you were to...huh... accommodate Gina."

"Wow! That's amazing! So you're swingers..." I marveled.

"So you're interested?"

"Greg, where I come from, where I grew up, the whole concept of wife sharing or wife swapping is like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. I can't believe in reality that people actually do that kind of stuff. I thought it was all just legend."

"So you're interested in trading wives tonight?"

"My friend, your wife is a beautiful sexy woman, and if I were single I'd be very happy to screw her brains out, if you'll pardon the expression. But to answer your question... No way! As long as I'm drawing a breath, nobody touches my wife and I don't touch another woman. These are the promises we made to each other twenty two years ago."

"I don't judge you, Greg. If your marriage works for you and you're both happy...God bless. I sense, however, that monogamy would work just fine for you, but that's for you and Gina to work through. As for me, as long as I'm married, I will never share my wife!"

"OK... I certainly respect you. I wish I had your fortitude. But I'm going to start calling you 'Iceberg' instead of 'Jerry' from now on..." Greg lamented.

"And why is that?"

"Because you are going to sink the Titanic! No man has ever rejected Gina's advances before! It's going to rock her! This is going to cost me a boatload of therapy dollars."

"Gina is a beautiful woman. I simply choose my wife and my marriage over a casual extramarital sexual adventure. Besides, maybe this is your opening to take back control of your relationship with Gina. What do you think?"

"Yeah, maybe it's time I found my backbone..." Greg pondered.

We walked back to the table. Greg pulled Gina away from her conversation with Karen and stated, "Honey, we have to go, NOW!"

Gina said to Karen as she walked with her husband out of the restaurant, "Call me later because we're leaving in the morning. We're in room 6008... OK?"

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Karen looked at me as if she was about to explode, "You're NEVER going to believe this, honey..."

"Not here. Not in this restaurant. Let's go back to the room."

Karen about dragged me down the stone path, one time stumbling on her black gown as I grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. The door to our room wasn't shut two seconds before the dam burst.

"Let me guess, Gina talked to you about..." I started. That was as far as I got before the assault commenced in earnest.

"Oh my God, Honey, Gina talked about perhaps her and I trading husbands for the night and for the life of me I've never felt that excited in all my life not that I would ever even consider sleeping with another man you know I love you completely and I've never even considered anyone else but when she even brought up the possibility of another man no less her husband wanting to sleep with me it's like it set my mind on fire but then I thought about the possibility of you getting to sleep with someone as attractive as her and it made me sick to my stomach and then I considered that Greg was almost young enough to be my son..."

"Slow down, Karen, I can't freaking listen that fast..." I chastised, sensing that every word of this monologue was important to our marriage.

"...it's just that Greg isn't as attractive as you but then again I never even considered that any man that young would find me attractive and Gina is that type of girl that every man dreams about I mean she is a little plastic and her boobs are a little too big and I've never seen lips that puffy but otherwise she looks like a Barbie doll and I wondered if I wasn't being selfish in not letting you sleep with her but when she told me that we would swap partners and Greg would get to screw me and I knew that you would never go for that but isn't it amazing that a couple that young would even be interested in a couple of old fogies like us..."