The Florida Trip

She felt more beautiful and alive tonight than she had in years. He had been paying her lavish compliments all week, which, she thought as she had observed herself in the mirror earlier in the evening, were not entirely unwarranted. Six months of TaeBo, regular two-hour work-outs at the gym, swimming and race walking a few times a week had flattened her stomach and toned her legs and butt. The fenugreek had done wonders, and her C-cup bra from Victoria”s Secret was now “full and running over”, as the old Sunday school song said. These few days in a bikini had deepened the great tan she”d gotten in June, and the two mornings on the balcony in only her thong had pleased her husband to no end–he loved her bronzed breasts and bottom and considered the tan line left by the thong very sexy. He”d had trouble keeping his hands off her as she”d lain there, though, and once they”d gotten carried away and had gone in to bed. She had to admit that there weren”t too many fifty-year-old women who looked good in a bikini, but she certainly had today. Her short haircut looked youthful and sassy, and he liked the fact that it bared the nape of her neck. She was enjoying her womanhood and the look and feel of her body, and she was highly motivated to take care of herself and stay beautiful. Tonight she felt recklessly in love, and it made her lightheaded.

As she stood in the dark, leaning on the railing, she reveled in her confidence and the effect it had, and looked forward to being with him. She felt free somehow, and wickedly adventuresome. She wanted to do something wild, something risky, something they”d remember and talk about for a long time. She enjoyed the feel of the Florida night on her skin, and wished he”d hurry up and come upstairs. She wanted him desperately, and could feel the heat of her desire creeping into the depths of her. She wanted to feel his touch on her skin, his breath on her face, his lips on her body.

He came back with bottle and glasses in hand. Before he could pour them each a glass of wine, she threw her arms around him and pressed her chest against his, then lifted her right leg and wrapped it around his thigh. Though he didn”t see it, her skirt fell open, and she pressed her pelvis against him and felt the butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach. She liked the soft scratchiness of his hair against her bare leg, and wanted to pull off his shorts right away. But she waited, and impulsively grabbed the bottle from his hands and took a big swig.

“Drinking right from the bottle tonight, are we? Not very ladylike, you know.” In answer, she grunted huskily and kissed him again, and when he opened his mouth she let him drink the wine from hers. It was a deliciously intimate moment, the transfer of the sweet, warm liquid from her body to his–like sex in reverse, she thought–and it made her heart race.

He set the bottle on the table and took her in his arms. She lifted her face to him, and he kissed her eyes and her cheeks, then reached down and kissed her throat. She threw her head back and put her hands behind his head, urging his kisses to go lower. Her white sleeveless blouse was unbuttoned nearly to the waist, and it hung open invitingly. The delicate lace bra she was wearing could barely contain her breasts, and he accepted the invitation and eagerly kissed the skin between them, drinking in the smell of her perfume mixed with salt air and the scent of her skin.

She undid the last couple of buttons and threw the blouse on the chaise. This excited him, and he buried his face in her cleavage, then pulled her bra straps off her shoulders, letting her full, firm breasts spring out of the underwired cups, which were now hanging inside out below them. Her bosom was taut and her nipples were already hard. The light mark where her bikini top had been was faint now since she had lain topless on the balcony, and she liked the look of her tanned breasts as much as he did.

He grabbed the bottle, and after taking a drink, handed it to her. The glasses would go unused tonight, it appeared.

“I think those shorts have got to go”, she said, and in a moment they were on the floor and he was stepping out of them. She was not surprised to see that he was naked underneath, but surprised at the intensity of his excitement at this stage of their tryst.

“Whoa, big fella. Easy there”, she chuckled. She knelt in front of him and kissed the tip of his penis, then flicked her tongue teasingly along the shaft. He was already very hard, and the sight of him excited her. Stretching her torso as high as she could, she cupped her breasts in her palms and pressed them together around his member, moving back and forth against him and feeling the friction against her skin as he thrust himself gently but firmly toward her.

“How would you like some really good fellatio?”

“Can it be better than this?”

“You be the judge.” She got the bottle and poured some wine on his throbbing manhood, then gently rubbed it all over the length of him with her index finger. He moaned, and when she began to lick off the wine he convulsed with the sheer pleasure of the sensation. Stroking the hard shaft with her tongue, she enjoyed the feeling of the thin, soft skin lubricated by the warm wine. He smelled faintly of Aramis, and the scent of him made her pulse beat a bit faster in her neck.

He entwined his fingers in her hair and pulled her face toward him. She tenderly licked the little bead of lubricant from his glans, and then slid it deep into her mouth. His penis was long and thick and engorged, and she pressed her lips against it and pulled her mouth back to the tip, sucking firmly, then grasping him in her hand and sucking with more intensity.

He was moaning now, and convulsing with the sweet anguish of   unsatiated passion, longing to plunge himself into her and take her to Paradise with him. But the waiting was the real ecstasy, and they both wanted to play as long as they could.

He wanted to explode in her mouth, and was afraid he would. When he couldn”t stand it anymore he pulled away, and though she was reluctant to stop, she stood up and let him turn her around so he could fondle her breasts from behind. She took the bottle of wine and, as his hands skillfully kneaded her swollen bosom, she put her head back on his shoulder and drank deeply from the bottle, then put it to his mouth so he could do the same.

She wanted to be naked, and the feel of his hands on her body and the pressure of his erection against her rump were driving her nearly mad with lust. She pulled her bra down to her waist, then turned it around, undid the clasp, and tossed it onto the chaise with her blouse. She was nude now except for a short silk wrap skirt in a red, white and yellow island print. Her tan looked wonderful against these colors, and the silk felt delicious against her skin. She didn”t know if he knew she was naked underneath, but she couldn”t wait until he discovered it.

She had only tied the drawstring loosely, so the skirt hung mobile casino low on her hips. Her belly was flat and hard now, and he marveled at the sight of her navel. It was amazing to him how such an unusual feature about a human being could be so enticing. He kissed her shoulders, and as her breasts swelled under his touch they seemed nearly ready to burst. He let his hands slide to her waist, and brushed her stomach lightly with his fingertips, gently caressing the skin around her navel. This felt like electricity to her, and she gasped.

The night was dark, and the thought of being almost naked right there on the balcony was exhilarating. She knew nobody could see them, but the seeming risk intensified their desire. Why wasn”t he touching her legs, her butt, her vulva? She wanted him to, but she wanted to prolong this luscious foreplay, too. What a night this was turning out to be!

His hands were on her hips now, and while he explored she continued fondling her breasts with her own hands. They felt like melons, her nipples like plump ripe mulberries. Looking at them, she was reminded of the pair of acorns they had put on the dashboard as a secret symbol of her womanhood. My, how those acorns had grown! And now there was a mighty oak involved, too…

Still kissing her shoulders and her back, he slid her skirt slowly up her thighs until he could reach her bare skin. She leaned forward, letting her breasts fall across the railing, and pushed her round butt against him hungrily. He cupped her buttocks in his hands, kneading and squeezing rhythmically in the way she adored. She felt her vagina and her inner thighs getting slippery with her anticipation, and she thought she might come before she even had all her clothes off. His fingers began to wander into the deep, soft cleft between her cheeks, and he stroked the puckered flesh around her rectum in a little circular motion. She was wild, and she could feel the edges of that little orifice bulging in response to his touch.

As he stroked her she reached down and deftly untied the drawstring of her skirt, and it slid with a whisper to the floor. He knelt to pick it up and held it to his face, savoring the scent of her arousal, sliding its slippery dampness across his cheek, enjoying the silk against his skin. Then it went to the chaise with the rest of her clothing, and they were nude.

He stood up, and she turned to face him. He got the wine bottle and had another long drink, then gave it to her. She drank, and then, looking into his eyes, she tipped the bottle and began to slowly pour the cool red liquid over her breasts. It formed beads on her nipples and ran down her stomach, into her navel, and along the valleys between her thighs and her pelvis. She set the bottle down and rubbed the wine all over her left breast, then licked her finger seductively before giving him her other fingers to lick. Having finished that, he licked her breasts, sucking her nipples teasingly, pinching them with pursed lips. Then he moved his head to her belly and plunged his tongue into her navel. His hands were on her butt, and he pulled her to his face as she thrust her groin at him wantonly. She got the bottle again, and as he pulled away from her briefly, she drizzled some wine onto the freshly manicured muff crowning her thrusting mound. It darkened the hair and then ran into the satiny folds of her pussy.

He was enchanted by what she”d done, and mumbled something incoherent before he pursued the sweet, crimson rivulets with his mouth. She parted her legs as he knelt in front of her and put his face between them. She knew he would be there for a while…

He loved her newly manicured crotch, and she realized it did look very sexy to have a small, neat band of short black hair reaching to her clitoris, then nothing but silky skin from top to bottom, front to back. He had helped her with the sugaring an hour ago, having convinced her to try it just once, pausing often to stroke her and slip his fingers inside her as he peeled the hair from between her buttocks and around her vagina. She had to admit it felt sensuous and incredibly soft and would make wearing her thongs even more fun.

After her bath, he had told her to lie on the bed with her hands behind her head. He had stroked her body with her soft make-up brush, and when he had drawn it across her breasts and then along her belly and between her splayed thighs, she had gone nearly crazy with the pleasure of feeling the hairs of the brush slipping ever so lightly against her buttery soft flesh. On the ride down, she had graced rural Alabama with many miles of her bare bosom and open legs, and had pulled her skirt up to her hips so he could fondle her. The sight of her bare crotch in the car had nearly driven him off the road when he”d looked over to see her there, skirt up, legs apart, fingers running through neat black curls. Now the curls were gone, and only the narrow strip interrupted the smoothness of skin…

His mouth probed and searched now, licking stray drops of wine and delving teasingly into her pussy, then firmly stroking the length of her erect clitoris, which was straining now under its glistening hood.

She was nearing orgasm. She could feel it coming, in those first quivering, gentle waves, and her knees were giving out. She needed to hold on to something, so she turned around and grasped the railing, her arms straightened with her straining pleasure, her buttocks flexed and hard. He poured the last of the wine between them and licked it out of the deep “V” at the base of her spine. Standing, he grasped her distended breasts, their nipples thrust out at the black Florida night, and slipped his throbbing member into her waiting vulva. She lifted herself higher, and as he put his hands between her thighs and, with practiced strokes, urged her body on to the most violent, writhing climax she could remember. She cried out as it washed over her, and her legs collapsed as she felt his hot semen surging into her very soul.

She didn”t care if she woke the neighbors. All she wanted was his embrace, the feel of his body against hers, the intoxication of their loving, the caress of the night on her skin, his whispered words of pleasure and admiration. This was like nothing she had ever dreamed of, and she couldn”t believe making love could still do this to her after so many years. During their honeymoon, as wonderful as it was, they had been laughably inept and blissfully ignorant of just how good it was going to get.

They lay on the chaise on top of her discarded clothes, sweating and exhausted. The towel under them felt rough but comforting against their nudity, and they fell asleep with their cheeks pressed together, their legs entwined, and their empty bottle on the floor beside them…