Mr. September

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The day of our vacation in the sun had finally arrived, and not a moment too soon. My husband and I were both feelings the post-winter blues and Spring had not come soon enough. I had undertaken all the requisite bodywork necessary for a month in the tropics – regular workouts at the gym over the winter, preparatory sessions at a tanning salon, and a bikini wax.

My husband had been consumed, as always, with work; talking on his ubiquitous cellular telephone even as we boarded the plane.

We had been married for five years, and at thirty-six, Tom was four years my senior. Our sex life had always been very loving, but, perhaps understandably, had become a little dull, routine and less and less frequent over time. Work was often the culprit; Tom was an art dealer and it demanded much of his time. I was always reluctant to complain because I benefited so handsomely, at least in a financial sense, as a result of his efforts.

So I was thrilled and excited as we boarded the plane, heading for sunny climes and a month of uninterrupted time together.

We had chosen the particular resort we were heading to after a friend and his wife recommended it to us. It was a very expensive and very exclusive resort on the island of St. Maarten that had a ‘couples’ theme. All the guests stayed in luxurious, self-contained beach houses that had their own private pools, Jacuzzis and access to a private stretch of white, sandy beach that was ‘clothing-optional’. The resort also provided all sorts of activities and services for the guests in order to satisfy any recreational and/or hedonistic desires.

After several connections, we finally arrived at our destination and quickly ensconced ourselves in what would be our beautiful, tropical home for the next four weeks.

We arrived in the evening, so it wasn’t until the next day that we had our first chance to assess the beach and perhaps take a swim in the turquoise water of the ocean.

It was a glorious, sunny day – and hot. I was feeling particularly horny that morning but unfortunately Tom was still sleeping by the time I was ready to head out the door. I concluded that sex was out of the question, at least until later in the afternoon.

Beaches have always been a source of incredible sexual arousal for me. Everything about them turns me on: the smell of suntan lotion; the feeling of the sun on my skin; the swimsuits and scantily clad bodies.

I’ve worked hard to maintain my figure and to look good in or out of clothes. Though I stand just 5’4″ and am a toned and slim-waisted size four, I am conspicuously big-busted and wear a size 34GG bra – hence I have to mix and match tops and bottoms whenever I buy bikinis. Tom says I’m the ultimate ‘breast man’s’ fantasy, though at times I wish I were a more modest D or DD-cup. Sunbathing at the beach, however, is not one of those times. I bought three new bikinis for the trip, and though I’m no exhibitionist, I confess that I enjoy the attention I get parading around for the benefit of the male gaze. Wearing a skimpy swimsuit that feels good against my skin makes me feel sexy.

Unfortunately, my husband hasn’t been as vigilant in the battle to remain in shape. When we were first married, he looked great. But in the interim he has gained some weight eating all those business lunches.

That morning, neither of us was ready for any genuine nudity yet, and so we both donned swimsuits before heading down to the beach. I tried out my new blueberry coloured bikini – the top of which was of the push-up underwire variety. And while it gave me the support I needed, it created a great deal of cleavage. My breasts looked as though they might spill out of their restraint at any moment.

Shortly after having made ourselves comfortable in our French Riviera-style recliners, a group of guests – making their way back to the resort – stopped to introduce themselves to us. At the risk of sounding immodest, a 34GG bustline in a skimpy bikini top is a rather formidable-looking thing, and, judging by their furtive glances in the direction of my boobs, the men as well as the women were taking notice.

One of the women told me that I should sign up for the life drawing class at the resort’s open-air studio – providing ‘Julian’ would be the model posing. The other women in the group all giggled and I wondered what the joke was. Tom said he thought life-drawing models were usually scrawny, starving art students trying to make an extra buck. They all assured us it wasn’t like that here at the resort and that the classes were very popular, especially amongst women. My curiosity piqued, I asked what was so special about this ‘Julian’? After a pregnant pause, one of the men explained rather sheepishly, that in addition to his being very good looking and well built, the model that had sat for them yesterday possessed an incredibly large penis that was something to see.

I sensed Tom squirm a bit when the women made jokes about the model’s alleged endowment. Being perhaps slightly smaller than average in that area himself, my husband has always been mersin escort somewhat self-conscious about the size of his own manhood. I’ve done my best to re-assure him from time to time that he is all that I have ever wanted or needed. The cold hard truth, however, is that I AM one of those women who has had naughty daydreams of well-endowed men. We all have fantasies, never intended to become reality. And although I always felt guilty about harbouring the feelings I did, I was certain that they were harmless. To be absolutely honest though, I have even found myself becoming aroused while flipping through the pages of my girlfriend’s ‘entertainment for women’ magazines, especially the one’s featuring ‘big boys’. So, not surprisingly, the idea of spending a pleasant hour or so sketching some gorgeous stud sounded to me like an interesting diversion!

That afternoon, our lovemaking was unusually intense. Afterwards, I tentatively broached the subject of the life drawing class and was surprised to discover that Tom was not only accepting of my interest in going but was also willing to tag along himself – to see what all the fuss was about, he said, and, teasingly, to make sure that I behaved myself.

The next day, we arrived at the studio and took our places at the easels provided for us. Looking around, I noticed that what the women had said at the beach was indeed true – the majority of the class were women.

The instructor introduced herself, talked a little about what we would be doing, and then proceeded to direct out attention to the back of the class and the model who would be posing for us today – Julian! My heart started to pound a little with girlish excitement when I heard the name. We all turned and watched as ‘Julian’ – wearing only a terry cloth robe and some sandals – made his way to the front and took his spot on the elevated platform. He was certainly very good looking: dark, curly hair and bedroom eyes. With his back towards the class, Julian kicked off his sandals, undid the drawstring of his robe and tossed it aside. He was nude underneath all right, and as his robe hit the floor I thought I heard a collective gasp among the enraptured women in the audience. Not only was he about 6’2″ and sporting an all over tan, but he was built like one of those International Male catalogue models, with a torso and musculature seemingly carved out of bronze-coloured marble. His tight ass was gorgeous. Then … he turned around … and my jaw dropped.

“Oh my goodness!” blurted out one of the women in the audience before she could bring her hand to her mouth.

That time I definitely heard a collective gasp among the women, and perhaps a groan or two from some of the husbands and/or boyfriends who had either been unaware of Julian’s reputation or just plain brave enough to show up. Julian had indeed lived up to his billing – his penis was HUGE! I’d only ever seen one like it before in my entire life. Following the instructor’s direction, he sat at an angle on the wooden model’s stool at the center of the raised platform. As he did so, his awe-inspiring sex came to rest against his muscular thigh. Circumcised and VERY thick, it was an impressive six or seven inches in length; topped off with a fat, bulbous head. Completely flaccid, he was already bigger than my husband’s erection. Speaking of my husband, he was looking rather pained and uncomfortable at that particular moment. I, on the other hand, could feel my heart beating with excitement in my chest. Julian was an incredible specimen of a man.

“Let’s get started, everyone,” said the instructor. “And don’t worry about making a mistake, ladies, you’re not likely to want to show the finished product to your husband, anyway!” Her wry comment was met with giggles and bashful grins.

I know I wasn’t the only one whose hand trembled slightly whilst trying to concentrate on the task at hand. Nevertheless, I was sorry when the session finished.

Afterwards, after Julian had had a chance to cover up, several of the women stuck around and capitalized on the chance to flirt with him. Yet, as my husband and I were leaving, I couldn’t help but notice that he turned and smiled in my direction. My pulse was instantly racing again, but then I soon accepted the fact that he likely smiled at ALL the admiring women he posed for. Still, my married heart was going pitter-patter as Tom and I made our way back to our beach house. On the way, our model was the sole topic of discussion.

“He certainly looked at ease posing in the nude,” said Tom. “But then I suppose I would, too, if I was as good looking and well endowed as he was. He obviously has a large ego to go along with his penis.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“He was showing off and loving every minute of it,” he answered. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that that huge cock of his began to swell a bit with all the female attention.”

“No,” I lied.

That evening, as we were getting ready to go out for dinner at one of the resort’s restaurants, my husband’s cell phone rang – apparently it was escort mersin an important call from his gallery that he had to take.

“Go on ahead and get us a table with a view, Olivia, and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes,” he said.

Happily, I managed a table with a beautiful, romantic ocean view just as the sun was setting. However, when Tom finally arrived, my romantic holiday hopes were dashed – he had been called back to work on the closing of a very important sale. I was crushed and thought our trip was over. Tom then said that since the money for the trip was non- refundable, that I should stay, relax and enjoy myself, and that he would surely be back before the month was out.

I saw him off at the airport the next morning, kissing him goodbye and telling him to hurry back.

It was yet another glorious, hot and sunny day, so after arriving back at the beach house, I changed into another of my new bikinis – this one the skimpiest of thongs – and headed for the beach.

Once there, I ordered a pitcher of sangria to sip while I lounged beneath my thatched umbrella canopy. I sat there and stared – from behind the relative discretion of my dark sunglasses – at some of the more beautiful of the bodies that were among the smattering of people at the beach that day. Many of the guests had taken advantage of the liberal, ‘clothing-optional’ attitude and were parading about in various degrees of public nudity. The intoxicating cocktail of the beach, the sun, the sangria, and the naked bodies began to make me incredibly horny. I also noticed that I was probably one of the only women who still had her top on. So, perhaps emboldened by the booze, I decided to remove my over-taxed bikini top. It felt wonderful with it off – the warm air caressing my puffy, saucer-size aureoles. Despite being a double G-cup, I’m usually a fanatic about wearing a bra. Consequently, my breasts, though rather huge, have retained much of their shape and firmness.

I was just enjoying the stares of some of the men when out of my peripheral vision I noticed that someone had just occupied the recliner nearest to me. When I turned to see who it was, my heart raced once again – it was none other than Julian! He was wearing an incredibly brief men’s thong made of some kind of jade-coloured lycra. The tiny garment only reinforced how incredibly well hung he was. The ridiculously large bulge in the front looked about ready to burst out of the ‘pouch’ of his swimsuit. I felt as nervous as a schoolgirl when he smiled at me and said ‘hello’. His smile seemed to linger longer than one might have expected.

Having Julian to stare at was not going to lessen my feelings of sexual arousal or the dampness that had formed between my legs. I had to admit to myself, that, physically-speaking, Julian was the flesh and blood personification of my sexual fantasy world. But I was married! And despite one past indiscretion the previous summer, I still held out hope for my marriage. I knew the impulses I was having were wrong. Still, my wedding ring felt extremely heavy at that particular moment. I finally rationalized the situation by telling myself that there was nothing wrong with merely talking to him. My sangria had come with two glasses, after all, so why waste the glass?

My knees trembling and my naked breasts swaying to and fro, I approached him with the second glass filled. I introduced myself and offered him the cold drink. He was VERY charming – this was not good, I thought to myself!

After standing there chatting amicably for several minutes, I invited him to move his recliner next to mine – dry mouthed, with my heart in my throat as I extended the invitation. That same heart skipped a beat when he eagerly accepted. He followed me over to my spot.

We talked about the art class after I confessed to having taken it with my husband. He told me that he had recognized me. I responded by saying that with a body like his, he must recognize MOST of the women who stay at the resort! He laughed and said that he was a model and had recently been doing a photo shoot here on the island. Apparently, he had been offered more money than he could refuse by the owner’s of the resort to stay on once the shoot was finished and pose for the classes. I inquired as to what kind of photo shoot it had been. He grinned and said that it was a nude pictorial for a certain ‘entertainment for women’ magazine! My God, I thought to myself, I was probably sitting next to the centrefold of an upcoming issue! Nobody would ever believe me, least of all my girlfriend with the subscription!

Lust was now starting to win the war for my thought processes in earnest. Making matters worse was the fact that there were some unmistakable signs that Julian’s huge penis was beginning to swell – and might soon be popping out of his suit. Our conversation seemed to gain more and more of a sexual subtext until finally, I threw caution to the wind and invited him back to the beach house.

“Won’t your husband mind?” he asked.

I explained that he had had to fly back on business mersin escort bayan and wouldn’t be returning for several weeks at the earliest. That said, I packed up my things and headed back – with the sexiest man I had ever met in tow.

We picked up from where we had left off at the private, indoor pool that began at the foot of the suite’s living room. We sat on the edge of the pool and finished our drinks. By then I was feeling slightly tipsy, but less nervous as a result. A little nervousness would have been understandable. I was, after all, still sitting there topless, talking to a complete stranger who was also all but naked.

“You have the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen,” he said, and I almost swooned.

“You must like big ones,” I laughed.

“Do you like big ones, Olivia?” he asked softly. I swallowed hard, looking him first in the eyes then down at the massive and rapidly expanding wad between his legs.

“Exactly how BIG are you?” I asked.

“Well, according to a former girlfriend who once measured it so she could brag to her friends, my erection is ten and three quarter inches long and about six and a half inches around,” he answered. “Actually, would you mind if I took off my thong? It’s starting to feel uncomfortably snug.”

‘Snug’ was an understatement, to be sure.

“Of course not,” I said, realizing that there was no turning back now. Julian stood up and peeled off his only restraint. His incredible manhood, already enormous, quickly grew and grew and grew.

“Oh my God, Julian! It’s so BIG!” I gasped. Only once before had I experienced anything remotely like the situation I now found myself in. Julian sat back down again beside me; his powerful cock now absolutely eye-popping in size, and so big and heavy that it pointed out straight at a right angle like some giant, fleshy stalk. At last he leaned over and kissed me, deeply and passionately. Then he took my small hand and placed it on his gigantic cock. I could not grasp it all the way around with one hand. It felt incredible; so hard and so big. I gently stroked its considerable length, causing a clear drop of sweet pre-cum to appear at the tip.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he said, taking me by the hand. I felt all the lust, trepidation, and excitement of a young girl about to lose her maidenhead for a second time.

Once there, he laid me on my back and peeled off my thong, exposing my small, trimmed thatch of dark pubic hair. I was as hot as a bitch in heat when he gently licked my clitoris with the tip of his tongue. Placing a finger inside my vagina, he provided me with a firsthand demonstration of the art of oral sex. In no time I could feel a warm tingle emanating from deep inside my nether regions. He slowly increased the tempo with his tongue and fingers until I arched my back and bucked my hips like a wild bronco – the first of many incredible orgasms that afternoon.

I was anxious to return the favour. Julian sat on the edge of the bed, thighs spread, while I gripped his giant cock with both hands. As turned on as I was, I could only manage to get a few inches of his thick meat in my mouth. My lips were stretched to the limit as it was. I licked and sucked along the entire length of his ten plus-incher like it was my only source of oxygen! I pumped up and down with my hands while sucking the huge, silky smooth head. He began to groan, and when I saw his large testicles start to tighten, I knew it was time. I pulled back just as Julian let out a deep grunt. Gobs of hot, pearly white cum splashed against the back of my throat. I swallowed his seed and licked the remnants of his ejaculation from my lips. Afterwards, we lay together and kissed; exploring each other’s bodies like innocents. He suckled my huge breasts and I lovingly stroked his spent manhood.

Happily, he possessed commendable powers of recovery and his cock soon began to thicken with my touch.

“Oh baby, I’m gonna put it in you now,” he announced softly.

As if they had minds of their own, my thighs parted as Julian knelt between them. I looked down, breathlessly, and compared the immensity of his penis with my smallish slit laid bare and about to be penetrated. I wondered if I would ever be able to accommodate him.

“Please be gentle, Julian. You’re VERY big.”

Mercifully, I was still incredibly wet with my own natural lubricant. I felt the tip as it separated the lips of my vagina and then the head disappear inside. I took small, short breaths as Julian slowly forced his way inside me. My eyes rolled back and I let out a protracted moan as inch after delicious inch penetrated me.

“Oh my God, Julian! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GAAAWD, IT’S SOOOO BIG!!!

It felt like it would never end, until, after about seven or eight inches or more, I topped out and he could go no further. He was truly touching me in places that only one other man had ever touched before – and sad to say, it wasn’t my husband! He allowed me to adjust as best I could to his size, then withdrew until only the head remained inside. He then thrust his way back in, slightly more forcefully this time. He continued in that manner, always increasing the tempo slightly each time – eight or nine odd inches in, eight or nine inches out – until he had built up to an incredible, ramming pace.

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