My Wife Got Rocked In Hawaii

The year was 2016, and my wife Jen and I were celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary with a trip to Hawaii. As much as our two-week holiday was to be the trip of a lifetime, in all of our planning we could not have foreseen the circumstances that would make our first night on the island the most memorable.

At that time, we lived on the California coast, closer to Los Angeles than San Francisco. So, we had to drive almost an hour to LAX for our flight. As a surprise for Jen, I booked us in a nice hotel just behind what used to be called Grauman's Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, for the night before. I had purchased tickets for the opening of the Movie "Central Intelligence", which stars her favorite actor, Dwayne Johnson. He is better known as The Rock.

Jen absolutely idolizes The Rock; she watches attentively to every role he plays. In fact, she has never caught on to the fact that whenever our sex life wanes, all I need to do is to rent a Dwayne Johnson movie and I would be golden for sex right after.

And as it happened, Dwayne was at the opening and came on stage to introduce the movie to the audience. Jen was as loud as any of the hundreds of women there - whistling and applauding the handsome actor. I must say, the man is immense; he dwarfs anyone next to him.

When he finished his introduction, Dwayne exited the theatre up the stairs of our aisle, and with Jen having an aisle seat, I had the best view of her elation at seeing the huge actor walk right past her. He was smiling at everyone, but I saw the moment when his and Jen's eyes met. For him, I'm sure she was just one of a myriad of faces in the crowd. For Jen, I saw her face flush, her chest rise and fall, and her fingers fidget as she stared at his impressive face while he approached our seats. Her eyes never left his backside after he went by, until he reached the top of the stairs.

The movie was not his best achievement, but an hour and a half of Jen watching the man who just had passed her by so closely, had the desired effect. My wife practically ravaged me when we got back to our room.

Never had Jen been so wet as she was that night. I knew she was dreaming of him, with her eyes closed tightly while I went down on her. And I'm sure she had the same filthy thoughts when she asked me to take her from behind while she buried her face in the pillow... and I was sure that those thoughts did not involve me.

The next morning we showered and packed up to leave for the airport. Jen had put on a yellow summer dress that displayed her 34 DD cleavage, as well as her long, sexy legs.

At 5' 7 and about 150 pounds, Jen was still as gorgeous as the day I met her in high school. Her narrow waist and full hips still turn heads even at 34. Jen kissed me and said, "Thanks for last night, Gary. The opening was a nice surprise."

"You are welcome, Jen. I know how much you like The Rock's acting," I replied, not believing that for a second. She, like millions of other female fans, are more interested in his 6'5" frame, 250 pounds of well developed muscle, and his perfect smile. But, as I said, her horny thoughts do have their privileges.

We parked the car and were through security much more quickly than expected, and now had a considerable wait before departure. With about forty minutes to go, I decided to use the facilities at the airport to avoid a seated experienced in the tiny commode on the plane.

With my task complete, I opened the cubicle door and made my way to the sink to wash up. On the floor, beneath the end sink, was a fanny pack. I set it on the counter and peeked beneath the cubicles to see if any feet were showing, but there were none.

I unzipped the first compartment and saw a wad of bills, plus the binding of an American passport. Immediately, I realized that someone was going to have a really bad day if they didn't get their identification back. When I found the page with the photo ID, I could not believe my eyes. Dwayne Douglas Johnson was staring me in the face!

I re-zipped the bag and walked out of the washroom, scanning the nearby gates for the immense man with the smooth shaven head. Not finding him in the moment, I went back to where Jen was seated. She looked up, and seeing the brown fanny pack brought a perplexed look to her face.

"Jen, you are not going to believe this. It is Dwayne Johnson's fanny pack!" Jen looked at me in disbelief. I knew what she was thinking. How could I have come to possess something belonging to The Rock? My face told her is was no joke, and Jen stood up.

"Are you sure?"

I looked around, then opened it again and showed Jen his picture while the passport was still inside the bag. She gasped audibly and looked around as well. I was thinking that we needed to turn this in quickly so he wouldn't miss whatever flight he was on.

"Oh, my God," said Jen. "That's him!"

I turned to see Dwayne quickly walking toward the bricked entrance to the washroom. As he disappeared inside, I handed Jen the fanny pack and said, "Here. You give it to him." Again, a look of disbelief fell over my wife.

"Me?"

"Just tell him you found it."

"But..."

"Go."

Jen took the bag and walked to the entrance. She called out, "Hello?" The sound echoed back from the tiled interior. "I have your pack," Jen called, trying not to be too loud.

It was funny to stand back and watch Jen's head move upwards as the large man approached her. She looked straight up as the almost one foot taller man stared down at her, at the bag she held in her outstretched hands. He took the bag from her, looked inside and then said, "Oh, God. Thank you! Thank you so much!"

People in the concourse began to look over and whisper, as the actor reached out and embraced my wife. Jen was uncomfortable, being hugged by her idol, but his hold on her was firm and earnest; his hands just above Jen's firm, round backside.

He stepped back and opened the pack again. "What can I give you for returning this?"

Jen smiled wide and said, "Don't be silly. It is my pleasure, Mr. Johnson." He then leaned forward, reached out and grasped Jen's upper arms and looked into her eyes. Dwayne spoke in a hurried pace, "You don't know how much this means to me." He then leaned in and gave Jen an abrupt kiss on her right cheek. Dwayne turned and disappeared down the concourse and into the VIP lounge. Jen was visibly aroused by the encounter, and as she walked toward me, her finger brushed the place on her cheek that the actor's lips touched. Jen's nipples were erect; the quarter-sized buttons pushed through the thin bra beneath her dress, and she had a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Thank you, Gary, for letting me return that to him. I can't believe it."

I was ecstatic then Jen had that opportunity, and while we sat waiting for our boarding call, I thought about how uncomfortable the six hours would be, in our cramped seats. Jen got out her tablet and Googled The Rock, and checked out his IMDB profile. She said, " Hey, Gary. I didn't realize that Dwayne Johnson and his wife are divorced." Great, I thought, being kissed by her idol that is now single was sure to make for great sex when we finally got to our hotel room.

Eventually, the call came and we showed our boarding passes and made our way down the tunnel to the gigantic Boeing 777. We were near the back, in row 66, where there are ten seats across; four in the middle section and three seats on each side.

And, what was the first thing I saw as we made our way through the luxurious first class seating? The baldhead and smiling face was of none other than Dwayne Johnson. Jen saw him too and they shared a quick smile.

We got to row 66 and climbed into our cramped quarters; Jen sat at the window and I in the middle seat. Our seatmate appeared just after; a middle-aged male about 5'5 and at least 340 pounds. It was going to be a very long six hours.

As we buckled in, Jen said, " Who knew we would be on the same flight as The Rock?"

"I know, right?"

It didn't take long to fill the plane and get pushed back, but LAX is a vast property, so it was another half hour before the plane actually took off.

Another twenty minutes went by before we reached cruising altitude and the FASTEN SEATBELTS light extinguished. I was tuned into a movie on my Ipad. My elbow was jammed between my torso and the side of the snoring man who easily overfilled his own seat. Jen continued reading until the flight attendant leaned across the guy next to me and said to both of us, "I have a free upgrade for you both, if you like."

I nearly busted out of my seat, and Jen was right behind me, while the fat guy had a look of disgust at our good fortune. I found our bag in the overhead storage and Jen followed the flight attendant all the way up the aisle until we got to row two.

The flight attendant pointed our new seats at row two... right next to Dwayne fucking Johnson. In first class, there are only seven lounging chairs; two loungers the sides and a set of three in the center. And there, in the center section, sat Jen's idol, white teeth gleaming, and a grin as wide as the plane.

Jen looked as if her legs wouldn't hold her up. She sat next to Dwayne, barely taking her eyes off of him. I sat next to Jen and the flight attendant appeared with three glasses of champagne. She offered them and said, "Mr. Johnson arranged for this upgrade."

"Oh, my God! Thank you so much," gushed Jen. "This wasn't necessary." I raised my glass and thanked the man as well, and we toasted his hospitality. I saw him take a good look at Jen's body for the first of many times during the flight.

"You have no idea," he responded. "I had a lot of cash in there, plus all of my ID. You saved the day for me, Jen"

Jen put her pale white hand on Dwayne's massive caramel toned forearm and offered, "We are both glad you got it back." He smiled back at her, nearly causing Jen to melt right into her seat.

The big man vas very engaging and asked where we were from and what we do for a living. He gave Jen a lot of attention, but for me, not so much (but not in a rude way). As time went on, he regaled us with funny stories from various movie sets, and before we knew it, the pilot advised that the plane was beginning its descent into Honolulu.

As we buckled in, he checked his phone, and asked us where we were staying for our holidays. Jen told him about the all-inclusive resort on the beach.

Dwayne said, "Not tonight, my friends. Tonight I am treating you to dinner at my hotel, and I already have you two booked in to a room there for the night. It's the least that I can do."

Jen looked at me in shock and I thanked him for the kind offer. He told us he would have a car waiting so we could travel together to his hotel. Once we retrieved our luggage, the limousine driver took them and guided us to the car. Inside, sat Dwayne, who would have had his VIP bags long since stowed in the trunk.

He was seated in the rearmost seat, facing forward, so Jen and I would sit facing him and the back of the car. Jen entered first, crouching low and then turning to get seated. As she sat, I saw the quickest flash of Jen's white panties, and looked to Dwayne, who clearly did not miss seeing them either. We chatted some on our way to his hotel, only occasionally did Dwayne's eyes fall to Jen's thighs made bare by her beautifully short dress. I could only imagine how wet Jen's panties were at that point.

At reception, Dwayne went first, and the concierge nodded a few times, glancing in our direction. Dwayne waved us over and told us that dinner would be at 7:00 and he would see us then. Jen was literally dancing as we approached the front desk.

The gentleman at the desk said, "Your room and anything from the wet bar or from room service has been covered by Mr. Johnson. Reservations are at 7:00, so you have a few hours to relax. Feel free to use our massage services as well; they too are included during your stay."

The bellhop led us to a suite on the 15th floor, which was as opulent as we had ever seen. Jen showered first and when I came out, she had her purse in hand and wanted to go downstairs.

"What do you need?" I asked.

"I don't have anything to wear to a fancy restaurant. I can't wear something like this!"

I wanted to call bullshit, as I had seen a few fancy dresses packed, but I realized Jen needed something to wear to remind her of the occasion - something to be able to show off to her friends back home. Jen Googled some stores but said, "We don't have time to Uber around the city to find something to wear. Why don't we look in the boutique in the lobby?"

This is the place that I should explain one thing. If you've ever heard that Hawaii is an expensive place to stay, don't even consider buying a dress in a hotel boutique there. I kept telling myself that it would all be worth it in the end. But when Jen appeared from the change room wearing a virgin white, mid-thigh and skin tight, rumpled dress, I stood gob smacked.

The shoes, panties and the bra that the salesgirl said would complement Jen's dress, gave my wife a million dollar cleavage, and accentuated her hourglass figure. Her dress looked as though it had been tailored just for Jen. She checked herself in the mirror and looked pleased. Jen turned her back to me and tugged at her hips as she watched herself in the mirror and asked, "You can't see my thong in this, can you?"

I answered, "No," but there was the slightest visible panty line where the tiny vertical string became the smallest triangle when it met the waistband at the small of Jen's back. I pictured seeing her later, in our hotel room, wearing nothing but her thong. I do love a confident woman who loves to show off her sexy undies, but my wife just isn't that style. But, this was one pleasure that I was not about to let spoil. "No, you look perfect from the back, as well as the front."

Jen's ass has just the right curvature for that dress and I could not take my eyes off her sensuous globes as she strutted toward the mirror in her white, six-inch stilettos. "You look dazzling in that," I offered.

Jen smoothed out her perfect, flat tummy, took one more gaze at her well-displayed breasts, and said to the girl, "We'll take it." While Jen changed out of it, the salesgirl rang up the dress and the accessories. The bill floored me, but I remained cool when Jen walked up to the cash and asked, "It's not too much, is it?"

"No. It will all be worth it for you," and me too; since after Jen's done flirting with the brawny actor I would have her at her most aroused ever. We went back to the room where Jen carefully painted her fingernails and toenails, before putting on her newly purchased attire.

"Are you sure that this is okay?" asked Jen once more. I twirled my finger and Jen turned around. I wanted to get on my knees, raise her hem up, and feast on my wife's sexy ass. But, I knew I could do that later.

"You look perfect."

I put on a silver polo shirt and grey pants and the two of us made our way to the restaurant, exactly at seven o'clock.

The maitre d' escorted us through the darkened restaurant to a private area with a booth, where The Rock was sat. When he saw us, Dwayne stood up and beamed his famous smile. He was dressed all in white; pleated polo pants, and a snug, gauze-like shirt that was only buttoned to his diaphragm. Dwayne's pectorals bulged and his black nipples were pronounced.

Dwayne gave Jen a long, slow, gaze; his eyes followed her sexy contour from eyes to lips, to breasts; to her flat belly, to hips, thighs and heels. Dwayne held out his hand to Jen, and when her fingers touched his, he raised them high and made a circling motion. Jen grinned and pivoted around to offer our host a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.

"You look fabulous, Jen," he offered, clearly staring at my wife's full, round ass. Even in the low light, Dwayne could see the exquisite tee at the back of Jen's thong. He grinned and winked at me. When Jen completed her tempting pirouette, Dwayne kissed the back of her hand and guided her toward the booth.

"Grant. Nice to see you," he said.

"Gary," I corrected.

"Oh, yes, sorry," he offered, his brain occupied with my wife's beauty, and another "accidental" peek up Jen' slightly parted thighs as she sat. He used his open hand to have me slide in on the other side of my wife, while Jen shuffled around to the back seat of the booth. Dwayne slid in until his massive body was right next to Jen, who was succumbing to the heat radiating from her loins.

"Thank you Jen, again, for saving me today." My wife began to blush once more, and I was beginning to feel like the odd person out. He took her hand in his and smiled at her; a quick glimpse at Jen's bountiful cleavage followed, which only added fuel to her erotic fire.

"I, uh... it was nothing really," she countered; her eyes did not miss Dwayne's gaze at her goods. I could tell Jen wanted to say that it was I who found his fanny pack, but it wasn't fitting with the image that she was conjuring. Her eyes just gazed at this handsome man; I hadn't seen this kind of lust in Jen in years.

A waitress, who offered the wine list, interrupted us. Jen said with a bit of a laugh, "I could really use a drink right about now."

While Jen perused the list, Dwayne said, "Elaine, I'll have my usual," to which the waitress nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Johnson."

I closed my menu over and requested a Stella Artois, and Jen asked for Chablis. The waitress left dinner menus behind, while Dwayne sipped on his ice water.

Dwayne put his arm around Jen and said, "Relax, Jen. I'm as harmless as you want me to be." He let a laugh out in that baritone voice, and then let go of her shoulder, and rested his hand by his side. I noticed that the backs of his fingers touched Jen's bare thigh, just near the hem of her dress. There was an abrupt shocked look on Jen's face, and she glanced my way, but I made like I was checking out the menu, so she relaxed and allowed our host to softly caress her smooth skin with the lightest of touches.

It wasn't long after the drinks arrived and meal orders were taken, that Jen excused herself to the ladies' room. While she was gone, Dwayne asked, "Gary, can we talk?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I can see that Jen is really into this, and I am really thankful to you two, but I don't want to cross any lines, without, you know, you being okay with it. You know what I mean, bruh?" His knowing smile gave me a hint as to what he was really asking.

"Yeah, this has been a great day for Jen. She is a really big fan." A knot was building in my stomach, but I could only think of what all of this was doing for Jen. She could have never dreamed of something like this.

"How about I give you two some time to sort out what you want for Jen, when she comes back?"

I thought for a moment and answered, "Yeah, that would be great." The big man nodded and we sipped our drinks until Jen returned to the table. We both stood as she approached, and my wife slid into the booth.

Dwayne announced, " I should hit the men's' room. Excuse me, won't you?" and turned toward the washrooms. Jen followed his form-fitted backside, which had been well tailored to be on display. When Jen looked back to me, she realized that I caught her long gaze at his form. "Sorry," she offered.

"No need to be," I replied. "When will this ever happen again? Enjoy the moment. This is your night."

Jen sipped her wine and said, "Thank you, Gary. You are so understanding."

A few minutes later, Dwayne returned and sat down, his left hip resting against Jen's right thigh. He rested his hand under the table, his fingers touching where the hem of her mini-dress met Jen's silky smooth thigh. This time, however, his large hand was on top of her thigh. She looked nervously at me, but I kept my eyes on the server who was setting down our meals. I felt my cock begin to rise at the thought of my wife's idol teasing her like that. Jen's chest rose and fell heavily just at the simple touch of Dwayne's fingers.