The ocean stretched out before and below us in our good friends’ luxury Waikiki Beach condo. We’d stayed here once before but not for as long as we planned this time. After an amazing Thanksgiving we left that evening, flew fifteen hours (counting the lay-over), and arrived refreshed and excited and still horny despite renewing our Mile-High Club membership during the flight.
Yup; about a third of the way from Chicago to Honolulu we’d picked a time when most of the other passengers were sleeping and the lavatory near our lay-flat seats was empty. My horse-hung husband Kent was first in and just like an Alec Cohen-choreographed number precisely two minutes later as I approached the lavatory door the sign clicked from “occupied” to “vacant” and without breaking stride I was inside. I turned and clicked the lock again; Kent yanked my sweats down and my long-sleeved t-shirt up and hooked it behind my neck to run his hands from my pecs to my balls from behind. He jockeyed is around in the enclosed space, pushed my head down toward the closed lid of the toilet, and pulled my ass onto his freshly-lubed monster hard-on. The roar of the jets helped conceal my roar as he ripped into my guts without mercy and began pounding me; his carnal need over-taking my pain and sending me soaring.
Kent made quick work of me. His cock-mastery had me cumming all over the bulk-head, toilet, floor, and cabinet; twice in the ten or so minutes he railed me before he finally pumped my sore and supremely-satisfied ass full of his seed. Then although we’d occupied one of the two first-cabin loos for too long already he pulled me into a long kiss and told me he loves me, loves our life, loves that we’re on this adventure together; and then he pushed me to my knees to clean him up.
I sucked his deliciously seasoned semi-hard dick clean of every bit of us; I took care to bathe his balls with my tongue as well. My own balls were abuzz with the heady scent and taste of him. I rose and faced him smiling.
”Bend over,” he commanded with a sly grin. I needed no further explanation and bent over the sink but he gave me one. “Don’t know where it came from but felt like I pumped out a gallon into you. Should have brought a butt-plug. I can’t let you walk around with a huge wet spot on your very fetching behind.”
“Or you cou … “ I started to suggest with filthy thoughts of the handsome lean ginger stranger with the wider-than-wide shoulders I’d spotted in the pod behind Kent. But I couldn’t complete my thought when my husband voraciously ate my freshly-fucked hole.
His groans and moans were enough to make me hard again. Another track deep in the recesses of my consciousness was still capable of thanking Priapus as is my custom to hedge against my body’s submission to age. When Kent abruptly withdrew and rode with an obscene smack and lick of his lips I dove onto them and sucked his face and licked inside his mouth savoring another helping of us.
We broke the kiss both breathless for a few moments Both of us were hard again now. He swiped the pre-cum off my tip and pressed it to my lips. “For later,” he shut-down any hopes of another relief session.
Kent pulled-up his sweat-pants, was gone in a flash, and I re-locked the airplane lavatory door. And just like that I was cleaning-up a vast spray and runny ropes of cum with half the paper towels in the dispenser. I had to give an interval before I departed and there is that sign asking that passengers who use the lavatory be courteous and wipe down for the next customer. I happily mused that the person who thought of the sign may have anticipate our type of use.
Immediately after I’d made my way back to our seats I was ruing my oversight when I wore sweats and went commando despite knowing I’d probably be loaded before we landed. Despite Kent’s very thorough job I felt or imagined I felt his load trickling down my balls and thighs. I thought overtly but maybe not clutched my junk so as to wipe my sac on the inside of my sweats.
At that moment the very hot flight attendant who’d been very attentive indeed leaned over and handed me an old-school business card and said in a low voice, “Next time guys invite me … please.” And he was gone with a wink. When I looked at the card it was a name and phone number on a rainbow flag background. When I turned to the other side it had very neat printing: “I’m in Honolulu for six days 29 Nov to 5 Dec. Vers. DDF as of 22 Nov. On Prep.”
When I next saw the hunkish flight attendant a couple of hours later after sleeping some I passed him a note written on a napkin: “But I bet you’ve been in all sorts of trouble since 11/22.” Without lowering to conceal his answer he smirked and said loud enough to not be certain only I heard, “I’m a planner. Only oral receiving until I get to my vacation.” I showed Kent the card when he and I were both awake, recounted the offer, recited the status down-date I’d received, and told him I wouldn’t mind having “Daniel Sung” on our to-do list. Kent kissed me hard and keyed the contact info into his phone. When he shared the contact with me he’d even entered the note and had snapped a pic of both sides of the card and had attached it; we’re a thorough pair we are.
Later with about two hours left in the interminable flight Kent came and sat on my flattened seat casually and started chatting … and rubbing my dick and balls through my sweats as if he was propping himself with that arm. With a devil’s grin he continued the inane banter about our thanksgiving with my two “kids” and their families along with our third Josh whom we’d left at home to see the six of them off the following day. As I clenched my teeth and tensed my body he jacked me over the edge while talking about Josh joining us for Christmas in Waikiki the last few days of our trip. As I was gasping and trying my best to be quiet he pressed his lips again a mine and again told me he loves me before making himself comfortable in his own seat for the remainder of the flight. Daniel appeared shortly after with two hot wet cloths and one dry one. “You might want these,” he said with a dirty smirk and left.
Definitely a five-star rating when this survey comes into my email from United Airlines!
Kent rubbing against my butt-crack and nudging my still-slimy hole hours later as we stood naked on the balcony over the beach brought me back from my pleasant memories. He kissed my neck and made me shiver as he pressed into me harder. I felt myself give way and take him inside; a bit of unpleasant friction after the rough drilling on the plane gave way quickly to moans of pleasure into the warm trade winds. He repositioned me so that as he worked my prostate expertly my blasts would spray the balcony and not fly out and possibly down to lower units or anyone twenty-two floors below on the beach. He’s considerate that way; both making me a cumming mass of sensation before he refills my guts with his babies but also for others.
Kent fucked to cum and finally snarled-out oaths and strangled moans as if he’d relieved days of pent-up need. I savored every throb, thrust, and spurt inside me and clenched hard to get every last drop of him. When he was too sensitive to move inside me he held me close against him and we stood like that for quite some time. The view was almost as magnificent as the feel of … us.
It was the following day when we’d cycled to the base of Diamondhead and had locked our borrowed bicycles and hiked up to the look-out on the crater rim that we brought up Daniel. Again savoring the vastness of the beautiful Pacific Ocean this time I had my sweaty arms wrapped around my husband’s sweaty muscled torso relishing the feel of his maleness he turned his head to the side. “Interested in spit-roast for dinner tonight?”
“Our grounded air steward?”
“Or that guy who we exchanged numbers with at the box this morning. Bulky muscle or lean and tall? Choices choices.”
The shorter very-muscled red-head at CrossFit told us he’d be leaving Monday; though in the afternoon. The clock was running on him and his strongly appealing scent, ginger fur coating ripped mounds of muscle, and a butt that beckoned and promised bliss. Daniel the tall dark lean-muscled Asian promised quite the fun time if his brazenness and prowess with keeping it just below objectionable levels was any indication.
“Remember though how it went with Josh and Mack,” Kent interrupted my z-rated speculations about our two prospects’ dicks.
“What I remember was my husband fully fucking me while we enjoyed the two of them rutting it out.”
Kent laughed and leaned back harder against me. “We have such a great life!”
I kissed the back of his next and inhaled him. “I want to blow you up here.”
Kent made a show of looking east and west at many others up here with us. “Coast looks clear to me,” he said and we both laughed until we turned to go back down the volcano. But at where the trail turns and a side path trails off Kent pulled me onto that and the moment we were out of sight of the main trail he turned and pushed me to my knees.
On my way down I yanked his shorts down and his jock-strap with it; his hardening dick sprung forward and I smelled his musk and sweat before I tasted it. But taste it I did; I hungrily sucked, swallowed, and spit all over my husband’s magnificent huge dick. I also used one hand to work his balls aggressively and my other to finger his hole; first my long middle finger and then two. When he was opened enough for a third he said with his voice strained with need, “Fuck me hon!”
I disengaged his dick from my throat for long enough to say, “Gladly; just as soon as you give-up your load for me to lube you up right.” And then I was back on him and in him and pulling on his sac until he crashed over the edge and howled as he pumped into my mouth.
I’d moved back to just his head in my mouth as I stroked his love nub and he shot and shouted in the wind on the mountain. When I had almost more than I could keep inside my mouth I whipped him around, pushed him over at the waist, and shoved my mouth over his hairy hole. I spit and forced his cum into his loosened hole and he moaned in appreciation.
I didn’t make Kent wait; I was on my feet in a flash and shoving into him hard and deep. “Ahhhhhhhhhh fuck yeah just give it to me!” he cried.
I was so worked-up from the danger of it, from the scent of him and the taste of him, and from the feel of his ripped bod as he tensed and then exploded that I was pounding him like a sex-crazed prisoner or something. “SO tight. And so HOT!”
“Come on hon fucking fill my guts with you! Do what I’m going to do to you when we get back to the hotel; pound my guts in!”
I briefly lost myself in the memory of and anticipation of him fucking me; the most sublime pleasure of my life. And I turned my attention back to the searing friction of his clenching ass-muscles and the SLAP SLAP SLAP of my groin into his bubble butt.
We stumbled a step or two but stayed connected; I felt the shifted orientation and my blunt knob slamming into his nub of nerves. He shouted louder, howled, moaned. “Fuck Al like that! Fuck me!”
I couldn’t have stopped if the police had shown-up and ordered me to! And as his howls and groans got louder and longer I felt myself coming to my limits. “Gonna fill you hon. Wanna knock you up!”
“FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” he screamed into the breeze and came again.
His already too huge dick sprayed shot after shot which I felt as spasms around my dick inside him. That ignited my fuse and momentarily I was slamming him harder and grunting incoherent paths and praises.
We both snapped our heads sideways at the same time when we heard a low, “Awwwww fuuuck!” A hot younger hiker had his medium-big dick out and was stroking out rope after rope of heavy cum-shots. We stood and watched until he opened his eyes and saw us. “That was a hot pounding you gave your boy,” he said to me. Wish I could have stopped myself and gone after you but I couldn’t help myself.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and clean my cunt?” Kent shocked me by asking.
As if contemplating it the shirtless hiker wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “May I really?” He directed the question to me.
“Suck me clean too and I’ll say yes!” I told him.
He was on his knees in front of my sagging slimy dick without any indication of the hard rocky path hurting his knees; I envy the resilience of youth. My thoughts of his scraped knees vanished when he pulled me by my butt into his face and his nose was buried in my sweaty pubes. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he moaned as he inhaled. Kent watched us still a little dreamy-eyed from the fuck; he gets that way when he takes it and takes a while to come down after.
I reached down and redirected the other hiker to suck my dick and he did gratefully. He eagerly sucked up and down the length of me and I’m happy to report that as I barrel through my fifties my dick was getting hard again just like that.
Kent took a step back to where his ass was within range of the hiker’s face. He leaned back and kissed me from that side while the hiker took a break from my rigid dick. Kent’s torso was still sweaty and felt good to me as I held him at that side angle and he sucked my face hungrily.
“Fuck this is hot!” the hiker’s deep voice boomed.
I knew he wasn’t sucking me; his very short military-style hair was rubbing my crotch and I assumed he was eating my husband’s freshly loaded and rarely-fucked hole. But when we parted lips and I looked down the hiker was looking up at us.
“You two are amazing together,” he said.
Kent craned his neck even more to look at me more eye-to-eye. The look on his face was the look that made me swoon: love almost to adoration, contentment, security. “We are aren’t we?”
“Are you going to suck my husband’s hole clean or are you going to ogle us?” I snapped at the hiker.
“Fuck dude,” he snarled and smacked Kent’s ass before burying his face in the hairy crack and slurping again.
Kent laughed and kissed me again. “What a life we have,” he murmured.
We were both hard again and the hiker was back on me sucking my balls and stroking me with one hand and Kent with the other. “You two wanna fuck me?” he offered letting my balls flop out of his mouth.
Kent’s shrug said it all. “I think maybe we’ll pass,” I told him gently. Kent’s shrug doesn’t mean ‘whatever;’ it means he’s not wild about the idea but could be convinced. The hiker’s very trim smooth body and decently talented mouth didn’t compel me either. And although the danger of the exposure there on the trail had been HOT when my husband had ordered me to fuck his ass it was just breezy in the cool morning on my bare sweaty upper body and legs.
When the hiker stood he was only a bit disappointed. “KK,” he said and personally I hate that text abbreviation speak. “Want my number for another time and place? How long are you here?” He dug in his pocked from his shorts still bunched below his balls and wrestled out his phone and held it out to my watch. Without me answering he tapped his phone and my watch took his contact. “I hope you use that,” he said with a grin looking from me to Kent as he got his semi-hard dick back into his shorts. “Have a great one guys. I probably don’t have to tell you that; you’re obviously a great couple,” he said and walked away.
I reached over and pulled Kent’s jock-strap up and get his junk inside it. He laughed but let me continue and pull his shorts up. I patted his big bulge and grinned and pulled-up my own and looked out to the ocean and sighed. Kent put his arm over my shoulder and stood against me.
There are some times that are priceless.
