Ixchel, Chapter 4

Ixchel, Chapter 4

by Adam Gunn

 

After she’d spent over an hour and a half in Wes and Pat’s room, Cheryl slipped from their intoxicating proximity . Slipping into her room, she dressed herself as she’d seen a few other women at the resort. Instead of bikini bottoms, she slipped into a pair of panties. Viewed from the front, it was simply pink nylon with a black lace trim. But from the rear, it had strings  rather than an opaque panel, displaying the crack of her rear end. One of her Dayton lovers had given them to her, they were comfortable, and if they got ruined by being in water it wouldn’t matter. She pulled on a cover up, more filmy than translucent, she could feign modesty in it. A pair of decorated flip-flops, she was ready to go.

In the warm midday sun the sky was dotted with fleecy clouds, she walked the grounds of the resort. Every once in awhile she’d come upon people she knew, Steve and Alexis, a man she’d danced with the previous evening, but mostly she kept to herself. She read one of her trashy novels in the shade of a palm tree with a creamy drink, she joined a volleyball game, whipping off her coverup with not a care in the world. When one of her team would high five her or pat her on the ass, the vibe was fleshy but short of erotic. The nearly setting sun found her on a float thirty yards from the shore, reflecting on the previous twenty seven hours. In her time here, she’d made love to two different men, and then there was the pleasant surprise of a woman’s curves. She still had more items on her checklist, but she also had three more nights. She felt she was well into a successful vacation.

Wes and Pat had invited her to dinner, Cheryl decided to decline; while she very much liked the couple from Chicago, she also felt it was time to break away from them, it was important to retain a smidge of independence. 

As the sun set, just shy of 6:30, Pat returned to her room, took more than an hour to shower and make herself up for the evening, full of potential; what would happen?

She meandered around the resort, aglow with fairy lights, wandered onto the pier with the Valentine’s restaurant on the end. She was fungry, perhaps she’d simply have a salad or an appetizer. Sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar, she found herself next to a man, greying hair, mid-fifties, good looking in a seasoned fashion. He was chatting with a brunette woman, on the other side of her sat another man, forties, a long face, thinning hair, slim.

“Hi,” the man closest to her said, “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” Cheryl chuckled at the old pick up line as the bartender brought her a glass of riesling.

“Oh, just seeing what I can pick up.” She was a little astounded at her racy words. Again, she realized in this locale she wasn’t the same woman she was in Dayton. “My name’s Cheryl.”

“Dean,” he answered, and studied her face for a moment. “I can only imagine you’re being successful, you’re beautiful. Where’s the husband?”

Cheryl once again explained her single status, it was actually getting a little tiring. Dean didn’t seem put out, accepted her unstated quest as perfectly natural. He introduced her to “Jacki, my wife, our friend Russ.” With the jazz band playing nearby it was difficult to talk, Dean and Cheryl kept up a conversation about mundane matters. The hostess tapped Dean on the shoulder. 

“Would you care to join us for dinner? We’ve got an extra seat.”

“Why not?” They followed the young native girl to the table, well on the other side of the restaurant, away from the music. Cheryl was seated with Dean on her left, Jacki on her right, Russ opposite. She found out the group were friends, lived in Albuquerque. “Dean’s my husband, Russ is my lover.”

When Cheryl raised her eyebrows, not in condemnation but in curiosity, Jacki explained. “I’m simply not enough woman for Dean. We figured that out early, he had some affairs. I realized I didn’t mind, he was - still is - a great husband, spent lots of time with our kids, very dependable. If he had needs he scratched with other women, I found it really didn’t matter to me and he was always honest about it. At the same time I was relatively faithful, the traditional stay-at-home mom. Oh, I had a couple of brief flings, just to keep up, I guess, but one night stands just aren’t my thing. Then, about six years ago, I met Russ. It was love at first sight.”

“For both of us,” Russ piped up. “For months, it was torrid. I wanted her all the time.”

“I could tell something was going on,” Dean interrupted, “when you spend twenty three years with a woman you can’t ignore stuff like that. I gave her her head, but after four months had passed and our son got curious why mom spent so much time at the library, we sat down and talked it out.”

Jacki continued. “So I introduced them to each other, we set up a deal. Dean allowed me to spend as much time as I wanted with Russ. We told our children about it, our girl was already at USF, Dean Jr. was a senior in high school. It was amazing how easily they took it. Of course, Albuquerque is a liberal town, they didn’t bat an eye.”

“So how does it work for the three of you?” Cheryl asked.

“Very nicely. We have a house out out in the burbs, Russ lived down by the University. I sort of spent the time between Russ’s apartment and our house. Then, three years ago, we all sat down and talked about it. Russ and I would marry if it was possible, but I’d never divorce Dean. So we decided to form a throuple. We built a little guest house out back, living room, kitchen, bedroom, garage, bathroom. Russ lives there, I spend time out there whenever I want to. Russ tends to eat most of his meals in the big house. And the really great thing is if either guy wants to have a girl over, I can just go to the other place.”

“I rarely have another girl come to my place,” Russ protested.

“Yes, dear,” Jacki clacked, as any wife might when a husband said something silly.

Cheryl had many more questions, especially did Jacki have affairs of her own, and were threesomes a part of their weekends, but she didn’t want to pry too much. The conversation went on to movies and museums. From time to time, Dean’s hand would touch Cheryl’s, although it felt a little strange Cheryl shyly responded, she could tell Dean desired her. And she was receptive to his slight advances. She wondered how this might work, how could she get Dean away from the other two.

Over desert, Dean alluded to their room. “We have an overwater suite. We can just jump off our deck, have a midnight swim.”

“It sounds nice.”

“You’re welcome to join us.” 

“Well,” Cheryl said, “I guess I’ll go over to my room and get a swimsuit.”

“Oh, you really won’t need one,” Jacki smiled, “unless you’re shy. We won’t be wearing them.”

Fifteen minutes later, Cheryl was walking the dim paths of the resort  with Dean, he had his arm around her waist. Soon, another pier was reached, Cheryl walked with them to the end, passing other bungalows. From a few, Cheryl heard womanly cries of passion, male words of encouragement. This certainly was a nice neighborhood.

The room was lavish. An open common area, two bedrooms, a glass panel to a back porch. Jacki turned on an overhead fan and lamp, dimming it to just above minimum. Cheryl was led to the porch, comfortably sized, with two couches on it plus an exposed shower on the side. The other three began to undress, placing their discards on a table, Cheryl followed suit. In short time, there were four naked bodies but little light to examine them by. 

Cheryl, led by Dean’s hand, stepped down three stairs unto a platform, she heard splashes of people jumping. “It’s only about four feet deep here, don’t be scared.” And she leapt, Dean caught her. His hand felt good on her back, for a flash she felt his chest touch hers, the lightning flew through her. 

The foursome paddled around, enjoying the warmth of the tropical water, the nearly full moon lighted their play. In time, Dean and Cheryl became closer, they kissed, beneath the water he patted her breast, his erection was furious. Cheryl heard Russ and Jacki climb the stairs out of the water, then gasps from Jacki’s throat. It was obvious the other couple was making love, Cheryl wanted it as well. 

Standing in the ocean water, she lifted her hips up to the level of Dean’s chest, her legs around his back. He used a hand to point his cock to the perfect angle, she lowered herself, felt the warm flesh enter her. For some time they slid, the buoyancy of the salt water supported her without undue strain. The feeling was rousing, the kisses deep, but the need for them to support each other led to a lack of opportunity for Cheryl’s completion. “Let’s get out,” she asked.

They climbed up the short ladder, Dean’s hand was all over her ass, and she led him to the sofa that Jacki and Russ weren’t using. Lying on it, Cheryl realized it was solid and quilted, whoever decorated these cabanas certainly intended it to be used for the purpose at hand. Dean spread her legs, dropped below her, began licking at her opening. She could see the other couple writhing in the almost full moonlight, their vision stimulated her, she sensed her nipples constrict, the orgasm turned her mind to sapphires that harmonized with the colors of the ocean surrounding her, the almost midnight blue sky above her peppered with the milky way.

She and Dean were in no hurry, she presented her ass to him, he placed his wand where it was most useful. Another orgasm overtook her, Dean was fast and deep, and when she came out of it she realized Russ was beside her. “Would you like me to help?” he queried.

“Is it okay?” she asked the other woman.

“Oh, sure,” Jacki agreed, “Have a ball.”

She and Russ kissed as Dean slid in and out of her, two pair of hands incited her. Russ stood, presented his cock for inspection, Cheryl swallowed it. While she was making love with both men, she took a second to realize another milestone had been reached - screwing two men at the same time. And when Dean released deep inside her, she felt no compunction about turning over and allowing Russ to kiss her. They grappled, Jacki’s calls as her first husband attended to her incited Cheryl. She slipped and slid with Russ, he seemed to want to kiss and fondle her more than he desired intercourse. But Cheryl was wild, she wanted this second man inside her, she got him to sit sideways on the lounge, lowered herself onto his lap.

Russ was still less than rocklike, it didn’t matter, Cheryl managed to stuff the prick inside her, it was firm enough to give her a nice ride. She saw Dean was fingering his wife, giving her yet another orgasm, both were observing her performance. Being watched was yet another novel trial, that, combined with Russ’s efforts and her own finger on her clitoris, brought her into another rowdy flare-up. And then, suddenly, it was over.

Jacki stood with her, led her to to the shower, the men joined them, they all bathed each other, the salt water and sperm joined and washed into the drain. Jacki toweled Cheryl’s body, Cheryl wondered if perhaps Jacki wanted to make out a little bit, but she didn’t quite know how to phrase it. In the main room, a bottle of Sambucca was presented, the foursome sipped the syrup. 

“I guess I’ll be leaving now,” Cheryl told the threesome, fitting back into her dress. They all said, “Oh, you don’t have to,” “You’re welcome to stay,” “We’d love to see you again.” She walked out the door with kisses from both men, a hug Cheryl wasn’t sure was suggestive from Jacki.

She found herself skipping down the pathways, joyful that the two men had shared her so successfully. God, she was such a different woman than she was back home, wasn’t she?

In her room she found it was not yet one o’clock, sleep was at least an hour away, why not use the time for something better than watching HBO? She stripped completely, but took a little time to brush her hair, repair her makeup. There was no telling who you might bump into, right?

Outside, she felt the scented breeze on her body. She could understand the clothing restrictions during the daylight, but at this hour of the night, who would care, why would they bother? As she strolled, she might see other denizens of the night, couples, some were fully dressed, others wore only the suggested minimum, no one was as bare as she, and she felt liberated.

The men who passed her stared at her, some at her breasts, others at her belly and below it, none of them in her face. It was to be expected she knew, she didn’t take offense. And she found herself returning the favor, staring at the bodies and groins of the men. What would that one be like in bed, she wondered, would the mustache of this one tickle her clit?

A watchman passed on a golf cart. “Good evening, ma’am, enjoying yourself?” He also got a good enough gander, and he was a native. The curiosity of another race inflamed her imagination. And he hadn’t said a word about her lack of clothes.

She wandered to the seashore, to her left was the row of bungalows peeping out into the sea. She tried to pick out the one she’d visited earlier, couldn’t quite be sure. They were all dim, no lights shining. She wondered who Jacki was sleeping with. Were they sleeping?

Another eighty yards brought her to her pool, she kicked off her sandals, slid into the water. Again, only one dim underwater lamp illuminated the scene, she didn’t think anyone was spying on her as she rubbed a nipple. Wouldn’t it be nice to bring herself off, here in the water, under the stars? She put a finger to her vagina.

She was disturbed by a splash, looked to see a man not ten yards away. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Isn’t this beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

Cheryl phrased her voice as mildly inviting, not too sexy (she hoped,) and certainly not vexatious. She wasn’t against having a little more company, but of course she was cautious.

The man approached. “Where’s your husband?” The question indicated his hopes, why not? 

Cheryl flashed her bare ring finger, “Single. Where’s your wife?”

“She’s got a headache. She got a little drunk tonight.”

“Poor baby, and you’re out looking for a little trouble.”

He laughed, a little loudly for the night. “Did I find it?”

“Maybe. Would she mind if she knew you were trying to pick me up?”

“I don’t think so. She fucked three guys tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“Pretty much watched. We picked up one guy, early, at a bar, then later we found two black guys, they tag teamed her.”

“And you didn’t get any . . . poor baby.” He was only a few feet away, she walked to him. Before their lips met, her hand clutched the penis, it was hard enough to stick it in already. They kissed, they petted. She had no compunctions about being with this married man, perhaps he was telling the truth, perhaps if his wife happened by she’d be pissed at him, Cheryl didn’t care.

But when the man touched her, down there, a little alarm of pain ached. “Listen, I’ve been ridden pretty hard today. But, if you want, I’ll give you a blow job.”

“Sure!” He didn’t seem to show much disappointment in the prospect.

Cheryl had him sit on the side of the pool, she took the cock into her mouth. It tasted of chlorine, it didn’t bother her. While she licked and sucked, feeling his testicles, he bent over her and felt her titties. It didn’t take long, she felt tremors in the organ, heard him growl, “Here it comes.” She accepted the first gush into her mouth, let it hit the roof, then she loosed it, let the second and third spurt thud on her lips, the rest of it just leaked out. The taste wasn’t bad, she spit into the pool water. 

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” she agreed, “hope you have a good rest of the night.” She swam away from him, feeling proudly slutty.






 

0