A Fucing Great Holiday

PROLOGUE

'Oh, my God,' Amanda moans, her cheeks red with excitement, her breasts rising and falling violently, she's panting like crazy. She feels a pleasant stimulus through her clit, again she feels his hand sliding over her stomach, then on her sex, turning slow circles over her pubic mound and labia through the fabric of her soft yellow dress and panties. She is wet, soaking wet, she feels with her fingers, she has never been this wet to her knowledge. She leans her back against the door, her legs feel weak, she moans again.

My-oh-my. That this had to happen to her.

Adam does something to her, something magical, a shiver runs down her spine at the thought of what could have happened.

She lets out a deep sigh.

That was borderline, Jesus.

Adam is irresistible, that's for sure. She may have managed to escape his seduction skills this time, but the week has only just begun, so that will be a real challenge.

She thinks back to what just happened, it makes her feel hot again, phew.

She clearly cannot resist his charm, no matter how hard she tries, why is that... Is it because she feels like he is undressing her with his eyes, and not rush-rush-rush way, but very carefully, button by button, so to speak? Is it the admiring looks, the seemingly accidental touches, the intensity with which he looks at her and drinks in her words? Whatever it is, the effect on her is obvious, she lost sight of all caution for a moment.

Together in the elevator, upstairs, slightly tipsy. He had his hand resting loosely on her lower back the whole time, she had been frozen, not daring to move. Afraid that he would become even more intimate, but also afraid that he would take his hand away, it felt so good, so exciting. She felt her panties getting wetter, smelled his intoxicating body odor.

When the elevator doors opened, he had let her go first, his hands unashamedly on her buttocks, it had elicited a high-pitched scream from her, she felt like she was about to faint, she was wobbling on her legs. Adam had caught her, pulled her against him, she had felt an erection, wow, she thought, that feels like a tree trunk! She quickly composed herself and broke away from him.

Together they walked down the long corridor, in a sultry silence, eventually arriving at her hotel room door. While she was looking for her key card, Adam grabbed her again from behind, placed a kiss on her neck and whispered that she was the most beautiful redhead, even woman, he had ever kissed on the lips.

'But you haven't kissed me on the lips,' she had protested, giggling as she turned to him.

'Now I have,' he had replied, putting his words into action.

The kiss had been indescribable, the steam was coming off, that's what it felt like. His mobile tongue in her mouth, his warm, soft lips, his dark eyes with full, long eyelashes fixed on hers, the sexy dark brown curls that fell over his forehead. She found herself completely absorbed in it and had let him have his way when his hands, very carefully, almost tenderly, slowly moved over her body, feeling her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her hard nipples through the fabric, it had intense stimuli sent to her clit. One hand had moved to her stomach, she had held her breath in excitement and panic at the same time, but still she had not intervened. Until his fingers rested on her sex, making circular, massaging movements on her labia. She had involuntarily moaned in pleasure, but then sanity had returned. She had pushed the hand away with difficulty. 'I can't do this,' she had whispered.

He had looked at her questioningly, challengingly. 'Can not? Must not? Or don't want to?'

'I-I-,' she had stammered, 'I want to... b-but it's just not possible. I am married.'

'How seriously?' he had asked.

'How seriously?'

'How seriously are you married?'

'Seriously enough,' she had whispered hoarsely, 'I'm sorry.' Then she had pushed him away.

'Okay, I understand,' he had said with that sultry voice and that sexy smile. 'If you change your mind, you know where to find me.' He had let go of her, and with a last appreciative look at her breasts, accompanied by a mischievous wink, he had turned around and disappeared into his room.

She had laughed faintly, indeed she did. Of course, he just had to have the room opposite hers. The torture of knowing he is there, waiting for her, with that hot, tight, muscular body, that pleasant, warm voice, that seductive glance. Those flexible, long fingers, his mobile tongue... Oh my goodness... That's like putting the fox in the henhouse, damn it, why me! she thinks in despair.

Well, that will be calling in the self-help brigade, she already knows that, she is way too excited, that has to be out of her system first, before she can get to sleep.

Fortunately, she secretly threw her old, faithful, pre-William vibrator, which has never let her down, into her bag at the last minute. She didn't think she would need it so soon.

And then of course there is breakfast tomorrow morning, the shared breakfast, she is already terrified. And you can count on Adam to make sure they sit at a table together, that man is unstoppable.

Oh, man, and the week has only just begun!

And it all started so innocently...

---***---***---

Amanda, Mandy to her friends, is a true art lover. Not that she is in any way an expert, not even in a period, a style, or a specific artist, but she just likes to look at art, especially paintings, abstract, modern, figurative, masters from past centuries, it doesn't matter much, as long as it does something to her. When she was looking at the travel offers, just for fun, in the range of cultural trips, especially focused on art, this one stood out so much that she knew she just had to book it.

So, she's off to France, including Paris, for a period of eight days, to visit a bunch of art museums and private collections, under the guidance of an experienced guide and art expert.

She had tried to persuade William, her husband, to come along, but he had immediately rejected that proposal. 'Too dusty for me,' he had said, 'you should absolutely go, I wish you lots of fun, but it's not for me, I'll be bored out of my mind.'

Well, on my own it is, she had thought. On the other hand, it was a group trip, fifteen to thirty participants, so she would not really be on her own.

'And,' William had said with his most seductive look, 'when you come back, I'll be happy to lick that dust off you, you know that.' She had giggled, yes, William loves to lick off dust that sits on female body parts. She feels so privileged, she is so lucky to have William, he is so crazy about her and almost constantly horny, and the sex is better than she has ever experienced.

They have been married for a whole year now, but she still finds it exciting. She is already looking forward to seeing him again at the end of this trip. Maybe, while she is in France, even in Paris, which is one of the cities they visit, she can buy some frivolous underwear as a surprise for when he holds her in his arms again. That's a good idea, she thinks, because William sometimes has the tendency to accuse her of being a bit stiff, a bit unchallenging, lacking imagination, even boring, in the boudoir. Then she could show him that she is quite capable of stepping out of her comfort zone after all.

She has mainly stuffed her suitcase full of skirts and dresses, and heeled sandals.

This is not an adventurous holiday with many intensive walks in rough terrain, their normal activity on holiday excursions, she can look ladylike all week, sexy even, she has promised herself, something that hardly happens at home because of her work.

And within William's proximity, wearing a dress or skirt usually takes less than five minutes, by which time the garment is already on the floor somewhere.

In the moments when her down-to-earth, analyzing alter ego gains the upper hand, she sometimes wonders whether he might have a sex addiction. He also wants more and more extreme things from her, and it's not that she wouldn't be up for that, but it doesn't feel right somehow, it feels so compelling, and mainly focused on his pleasure, so she usually tries to get out of it, which is probably also why he calls her boring or prudish. It does worry her, it's as if something or someone wants to destroy her pink cloud that she has been sitting on so comfortably for over a year now.

***

Now she is sitting on the plane, at the aisle side, unfortunately the window seat was no longer available.

She has just finished a delicious chocolate chip cookie, handed out moments earlier by a friendly flight attendant. She leans back enjoying her adventure, she is so curious about what she will get to see and what the rest of the group will be like. Would they mainly be elderly people? Or also people her own age? Oh well, it doesn't really matter, there's always one she will click with, that's just how it goes.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees the man on the other side of the aisle looking at her with interest, first at her face, he smiles kindly when he catches her gaze, but then his eyes wander to her cleavage, of course, there you have it. So predictable, she thinks displeasedly.

She's about to give him a scorching look when he leans towards her, gallantly handing her a tissue, he points to her breasts, she looks down.

'Cookie crumbs,' he whispers, with a look that she can't quite place, is it flirting, or is it just a friendly gesture? She quickly wipes the crumbs from her cleavage, a little embarrassed, the chocolate in it had already started to melt, she licks the offered tissue without thinking and then wipes the brown spot from her skin with it.

She mumbles a thank you and then looks away. Every now and then she looks to the side, she can't help it, he's just so stunning, and every time she sees him openly staring at her bosom. It makes her extremely pissed off, but apparently, he doesn't care, he just keeps doing it. At a certain point she's had enough, she deftly takes a thin scarf out of her bag and ties it around her neck in such a way that her breasts are covered. There, she thinks, your turn.

She hears him chuckle softly, it makes her blood boil, the brutality. But somewhere in the back of her mind she notices to her horror that she is also quite pleased that such an attractive man cannot keep his eyes off her breasts.

When she dares to look sideways again, he seems engrossed in a book, The female psyche, it says in large red lettering on the front cover. Good for you, she thinks sarcastically, best keep studying hard!

***

On the bus that will take them to the first hotel, she has just settled comfortably on one of the back benches when she hears a familiar voice asking: 'May I?'

Fuck, she thinks, she looks up alarmed, straight into the cheerful face of the breast-gazer from the plane, he points to the seat next to her. She doesn't have the courage to say no. Of course, he could just as well have sat somewhere else, because there are plenty of free benches left, she realizes. Anyway, she's not very good at saying no, at least not if she hasn't had the time to prepare for it, so she internally sighs in resignation and nods yes.

The driver is clearly having fun, he takes the bends and potholes in the rather bad roads like an accomplished jumping horse, swinging and hopping as they cover the quite long distance to the hotel. Amanda regularly finds herself half on her neighbor's lap, he happily catches her, she notes, regularly she feels a supporting hand on her thigh, then around her upper arm, or around her waist, every now and then he even runs a hand along her breast, neatly accompanied by an apologetic smile. Judging by his enjoying facial expression, he is having even more fun than the driver, she secretly wonders whether he might have bribed him to take the bends as roughly as possible.

She doesn't have time to protest, she is simultaneously anxiously trying to prevent herself from being propelled out of her seat, and trying to pull a neutral face with every touch, to her horror she notices that it makes her incredibly excited, wet even.

And of course, that is not appropriate at all.

Then the bus finally stops in front of the hotel, Amanda breathes a sigh of relief and brushes her long copper-red curls out of her face, it will be a hell of a job to get those tangles out again.

Her neighbor looks at her with an inquisitive look, his eyes sparkling.

'Was it as good for you as it was for me?' he asks her in a low, sexy voice. She is about to give him a reproachful look again and opens her mouth to put him in his place, but she is completely disarmed by his roguish look and the teasing, sexy smile.

Two can play this game, she thinks, a mischievous look comes into her eyes, 'oh well...' she mumbles, she shrugs her shoulders indifferently, 'I've had worse...' Then she stands up, demonstratively bends over to pick up her bag, for a brief moment giving him full view of her ample cleavage, she hears him abruptly hold his breath. She slowly gets back up and then walks down the aisle and out of the bus, amazed at herself, did she really do this, this definitely falls under the heading of flirting, Amanda, scandalous! she hears her mother shouting in her head, she involuntarily giggles out loud, she sees one of her fellow travelers looking at her puzzled.

Adam watches her, fascinated, admiring her beautiful, swaying ass and the bobbing red curls, and amazed at the mixed signals this lady is sending, a challenge, he thinks, this could be a fun week.

***

During the welcome dinner that evening she sits diagonally across from him, he was just a fraction too late to get the seat directly opposite her, which was taken by a balding man in his fifties, or so she thinks, it's certainly possible he's to be younger or older than that, you never know with those early balding, pale-skinned, plump types. His name is Johannes, and he immediately dives in, he is single, has a soft spot for red-haired women, is registered on just about every dating website there is, and is looking for his soulmate, he entrusts her within five minutes, she doesn't even get a chance to break off the flow of words to tell him she's married. She now regrets that she and William have decided not to wear wedding rings, something that is not exactly convenient in both their professions.

She sees her neighbor from the bus struggling to contain his laughter. You bastard, she thinks indignantly, instead of coming to my rescue! But then she sees that he is also being targeted, by no less than two women, both apparently in their mid-forties, they are just shy of crawling onto his lap. Now Amanda is in high spirits, seeing him squirm, she gives him a big wink. Adam responds immediately by including her in the conversation. Johannes and the two ladies initially look annoyed, but Adam proves to be very entertaining and within no time manages to steer the conversation in such a way that they are in constant laughter for the rest of the meal.

After dinner he asks Amanda if she would like to have a cocktail at the hotel bar, she hesitates for a moment, but he looks so disarming, and when he also solemnly promises that he will not try to get her drunk, she agrees with a laugh.

The rest of the group soon retreats to their respective hotel rooms, leaving Adam and Amanda alone at the bar.

Adam continues to hit on her mercilessly, he asks her if she isn't getting tired of all those guys who are constantly trying to get her attention.

'Like you?' she asks teasingly.

'Like me,' he agrees, 'but,' he adds defensively, 'I can't help it, I just have a soft spot for red-haired women.' He perfectly imitates Johannes' voice and intonation, making Amanda burst out in laughter.

'But I do mean it,' he whispers in her ear, she almost chokes, oh god, his closeness, his voice, that alone almost makes her come, he is the sexiest, exciting man she has ever met!

'Are you ever not in flirt mode,' she asks desperately.

He thinks for a moment, 'yes,' he then says.

'O? And when is that?' the disbelief is clear in her voice.

'Once I've achieved my goal,' he says, looking at her teasingly, 'are we there yet?'

She bites her lower lip, an alarmingly sexy gesture, he thinks, 'no,' she says, giving him a challenging smile, 'you'll have to keep going for a while longer.'

There it is again, he thinks with amusement, those mixed signals.

'I'm Adam by the way,' he says, extending his hand.

'Amanda,' she shakes his hand, she almost moans, the jolt of electricity that goes through her when she touches his hand is overwhelming, she has the urge to run away, away from this deadly sexy man. She quickly withdraws her hand and reaches for her cocktail, at least that's safe. Provided she doesn't down the thing too quickly, the glass is already half empty.

'You know, those names of ours, have you noticed that Adam completely fits in with Amanda?' he says a moment later with a lazy grin. She looks at him with wide eyes, the suggestion conjuring up far too pleasant images.

'Mandy,' she stammers, 'I'd rather have you call me Mandy.'

'Hmm, I don't know, I think I prefer Amanda after all. In certain circumstances.'

She looks to the side, Adam looks at her appraisingly, runs a finger loosely over her bare forearm.

Damn, Mandy thinks. She feels a wet spot forming in her panties again, Adam knows how to flip her switches far too easily.

A while later she feels his hand on her thigh moving up agonizingly slowly, he looks at her sideways, waiting for her to veto. But she doesn't, like a bunny in the middle of the highway, staring into the approaching headlights of a car, she sits stock still, she needs her utmost willpower not to emit any horny, hoarse noises. She sees the bartender looking at her thoughtfully, he must be wondering why she doesn't answer his question if she wants another cocktail. With utmost effort she nods yes.

'The same one?' he asks, she nods yes again.

'You go, girl!' Adam whispers softly in her ear, 'you know what they say about a drunk woman in bed,' he looks at her seductively.

'It is not said whose bed, or whether we are in it together,' she replies to him, she notices that she has the uncontrollable urge to flirt back, maybe it is the alcohol, but she does not recognize herself, it is as if she has developed an alternative personality. She hardly thinks about William anymore.

Adam chuckles, 'touché,' he mumbles.

The hand moves a little further, it has now disappeared under the hem of her skirt, she notices, when she glances at it surreptitiously, and it has reached the forbidden triangle. It's time to stop him. But it feels so immensely good! her clitoris screams. It's not allowed! her mind screams back, so she takes a long sip, trying to numb it. The clitoris wins, the hand stays where it is. Oh, shit, she suddenly realizes, it's not her hand, so it's not going to listen either. She takes another sip, the glass is almost empty again, and she braces herself. The hand secretly moves a little further, and now lies partly on her panties, a finger slides under the edge of the fabric, she breaks into a sweat, she feels like her face, and other body parts as well, is on fire.

She glances to the side uncertainly, Adam looks at her questioningly, 'time for bed?'

She nods, empties her glass and gets up. Oops, too much alcohol in too short a time.

'I'll support you,' she hears Adam say, who can clearly handle his booze better than she can, he's had at least as much to drink. She feels a strong, muscular arm supporting her elbow, and she allows herself to be led to the elevator with confidence. Strangely enough, as threatening as Adam is when it comes to protecting her marital fidelity, she also feels completely safe in his company.