The Resort

An adult stories – The Resort by C_Anteros,C_Anteros Claire took a deep breath in, letting the warm, humid air fill her lungs. Even in the lobby of the main building of the resort, it smelled lush and full of life, as green as the palm trees and ferns that filled the courtyard outside, with a hint of salt from the ocean nearby. She exhaled. It was mid-afternoon, and she and her husband James had just completed the grueling journey from their home near Minneapolis to the beautiful island of Oahu. After 12 hours of flying to Honolulu (including a layover in LA) and hour-and-a-half-long drive to the Hidden Bay Resort and Spa on the north end of the island, she wanted nothing more than to sit down on the bed and close her eyes. At least for a little while, until dinner would be served.

Claire and James were in line to check in at the lobby of the resort, an all-inclusive affair that promised to be a refreshing celebration of their 20th anniversary. After their son had left for college in the fall, the two of them had found themselves with more time—and more of each other—than they really knew what to do with. Suddenly there were no distractions, nothing getting in between them, and if she was being honest, it was more than a little unsettling. With a child to focus on, they had not realized that the intimacy and passion in their marriage had slipped away little by little over the years. But now that they were alone, it was clear that they were out of practice, in a sense, when it came to being with each other. It was as if both she and her husband had grown up physically near each other but not emotionally close, and now they had become—well, not strangers, exactly, but not quite lovers either. She found herself competing for his attention with his job, with his car, with his golf buddies. Not that he had neglected her per se, but without a child in the house, the cracks were harder to ignore. It was as though they were suddenly thrust together only to find themselves distant.

When Claire and James found themselves in the front of the line, they handed over their credit cards and IDs to the nice heavily made-up lady with blonde hair tied up in a messy bun behind the counter. She typed for a moment while staring intently at her screen before she looked up.

“Ah yes,” she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Willow. Welcome to the Hidden Bay Resort and Spa. Your room will be 3235, located on the north building of our complex here.” She produced a map of the resort ground and circled a portion of one of the buildings with a yellow highlighter. Claire struggled to pay attention through a jet-lagged fog as she continued on to give information about the resort’s meal times (their dinner slot was at 6pm, breakfast was served 6 to 10am, lunch was available throughout the day). She continued on to the amenities like the golf course and spa. She hoped James was getting it, but more realistically she hoped that she would be able to look up all that information later. She knew there was no way her husband was paying attention to any of this. Eventually the lady handed the couple their room keys, along with the map and brochures for the spa and golf course. “Enjoy your stay!” she called as the couple took their bags and headed down the hall for the elevator bay. Claire’s suitcase seemed to be getting heavier and heavier the longer she had to lug it around. At least it’s warm, she thought.

“Are you excited?” asked James as they squeezed into the elevator.

“Of course.” Claire forced a smile. She did expect it to be a wonderful trip, but for now she mostly felt exhausted.

“I can’t wait to get on the golf course,” said James. “I heard they have the best one on the island at this resort.”

“I know.”

The elevator dinged once they reached the third floor, and they found their way to the room. It had one king-sized bed in the middle across from a TV standing atop a dresser with a handsome desk in the corner. Looking at the desk, Claire found herself wondering what poor soul would need it. Working on vacation was no fun at all, she thought. Across from the front door was a wide sliding glass door leading to a balcony overlooking the resort grounds. Claire rolled her suitcase into a corner. She wanted to step outside and check out the view, but before she could even think her tired legs swung up onto the bed, and she fell back onto the cool pillows. The resort certainly didn’t skimp on bedding, thank God. The sheets and mattress were so soft she felt weightless. It was like laying on a cloud. Or maybe that’s just how tired she was.

Claire let out an involuntary sigh. “Ahh,” she said, closing her eyes and feeling the tension melt from her back. “I could lay here forever.”

James laughed and set his suitcase to the side. “Well, just don’t make me eat dinner alone.” He took off his shirt. “I’m going to take a shower real quick, get cleaned up.”

Claire glanced at her watch. It was four-thirty, which gave them a little over an hour before they needed to get ready for their dinner slot. She then looked over her wrist at James, who was digging toiletries out of his suitcase, still without a shirt. A wrestler in his college days, he was still in decent shape for a man in his mid-forties. James was solidly built, with a broad hairy chest and thick arms. While the six-pack he sported in his youth had faded, and his hair receded somewhat, she still found him handsome. His green eyes were bright with energy, and his jaw was strong and square. She sighed, watching him stand back up and walk to the bathroom. Maybe this place would be the spark they needed after all. James closed the door behind him and she heard the shower start to run. Claire couldn’t help but wonder if he would like it if she joined him in there. It was no use, though—the moment she closed her eyes again she fell into a nap.

#

“Sweetheart,” James said, “it’s time to get down there for supper.” He was sitting next to her on the bed, one hand resting on her shoulder.

Claire moaned and stretched out, eyes heavy with sleep. “Already?” She yawned.

“I’m afraid so. I wanted to give you enough time to get ready.”

“Well, that was nice of you. Pretty brave of you to wake me up from a nap like that, though.” She smiled and rubbed her eyes.

James chuckled. “It’s less brave when you know that the only thing you love more than sleep is food.”

“Hey!” Claire playfully shoved his shoulder as she sat up in the bed. “Give me just a few minutes. I’m sorry I won’t look perfect, but you’ll have to wait until I have a good night’s rest before you see my most glamorous dinner looks.”

“You look beautiful no matter what, darling,” James said as he got up to put on his boat shoes. He was wearing a mint-green golf shirt and khakis, a silver watch glinting on his left wrist.

“Is that what you really think?” Claire crawled out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she shook out her hair and let it fall down around her shoulders. Thankfully, her nap had not turned it into as much of a rat’s nest as she feared. Just a little mussy, but perfectly presentable. Claire splashed some water on her face. Feeling a little refreshed, she walked back into the room to see James reclining on the bed, scrolling through his phone. Claire felt underdressed in the joggers and baggy t-shirt that she had worn for the flights, so she opened her suitcase in the corner of the room opposite the balcony and pulled out a flowery red and yellow shin-length sundress. She changed facing the wall, pretending not to feel James’ eyes on her as she pulled her shirt off over her head and took off her pants. She stepped into the sundress and zipped up the back.

“Damn, you clean up nice,” James mused from behind her.

Claire rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth turned up slightly in a smirk. “I just need to get some food in me.”

“That all you need in you?”

“Hmm.” Claire swayed her hips a little extra as she walked over to put her shoes on. She still felt somewhat slap-happy from fatigue, but the anticipation of four days in paradise was also making her feel a little bold. She put on pair of sandal wedges and stood back up. Even with the height added by the heels, James still stood a good three or four inches over her.

“Ready?” He asked. She nodded.

Claire and James navigated back through the hallway and down the elevator to the lobby, and turned down the hall to the restaurant.

“Good evening, folks!” Said a cheery young hostess as they walked in. “Can I get your name and room number?”

“Willow, 3235,” said James matter of factly.

“Of course,” said the hostess, “right this way.”

The restaurant was lovely, the lights were dim but not excessively so. It was partially outside, with a large covered patio area overlooking the beach, and beyond that, the ocean. In the middle of the patio was a well-stocked rectangular bar, with TV screens playing a basketball game. A few people sat at the bar while the bartenders poured drinks and closed tabs. Tropical plants hung from the ceiling and patio canopy, and there were several potted ferns throughout the dining room.

The hostess led Claire and James out to the patio. James took the seat facing the bar—and the TVs—and Claire found herself wondering if that was intentional. It may have been. James’ eyes flicked over her shoulder as the hostess poured them water.

“Thank you,” said Claire.

“Thanks,” said James.

“Of course,” said the hostess. “Arturo will be right with you folks.” She swung back around and returned to the front of the restaurant.

“This place looks lovely,” said Claire.

“It sure does.”

“What do you think you’ll get?”

James studied the menu. Since it was all-inclusive, there were just a couple of options for each course. It seemed to be seafood night tonight. The entrees were all fish except for a steak option, and the appetizers included shrimp, calamari, and caviar. “The sea bass sounds good,” he said finally. “And you know I love calamari. Maybe we should get some to share?”

Claire shrugged. “That’s fine with me. Frankly, I think the swordfish is calling my name.” She looked up to see the waiter approach.

“Hola amigos,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Hello my friends. How are we doing? My name is Arturo, and I will be taking care of you this evening.” He had a thick Latin American accent and wavy chin-length black hair, parted in the middle, that matched his thick stubbly beard. His sharp chocolate-colored eyes sat on either side of a solid, straight nose, and below that was a strong dimpled chin. He wore his black button-down shirt, which fit snugly against his chest, with the sleeves rolled up just below the elbow to reveal muscular forearms and veiny hands. He left the top two buttons undone, creating a V shape with a morsel of hair at the base.

“Thanks,” said James, “I’m doing well.”

“We’re doing wonderfully,” said Claire, not taking her gaze off Arturo. She realized she had been holding her breath, and let it out. Was she still dreaming? Why was it necessary to have a waiter who was so hot, she wondered? Why was she so attracted to him? She tried in vain to contain her thoughts.

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Arturo beamed a snow-white smile and his eye’s met Claire’s. Her heart fluttered in spite of herself when he held them there. She hoped that James didn’t notice her staring. “Can I get the lovely couple something to drink besides water? May I recommend a wine? We also have a superb selection of cocktails and beer.”

“You sure may,” said Claire.

Arturo clapped his hands. “¡Muy Bien! In that case, let me suggest our Pino Grigio, which comes to us from a vineyard in Chile and pairs beautifully with our seafood options tonight.”

“Works for me,” said James. “Claire?”

“L-let’s get a bottle” She stuttered, nerves tingling still. What had gotten into her? Something must be in the air here in Hawaii.

“Perfecto,” Arturo said. Our sommelier will be right back with your wine, and I will give you a few moments to look over the menu. He strode back to the kitchen as James leaned forward and took Claire’s hand in his. He looked straight in her eyes.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” James said earnestly.

“Thank you,” said Claire, refocusing on the man she was supposed to be thinking about. “Happy anniversary. To us.”

“I think we are going to have such a lovely couple of days here.”

“I think so, too.” Claire squeezed his hand. She really wanted to reconnect with James on this trip, so find some way to bring them closer together. Their marriage had revolved around raising their son for too long. And now it was just the two of them, alone, without the pressures of the world around them to explore their marriage and figure out what exactly their relationship was going to look like in this new chapter of life. No distractions, no intrusion. It was just them, and she knew that she, at least, was willing to do the work on building back the magic that had defined their early relationship. She smiled. “If you play your cards right, you might have a lovely night, too.”

James smirked and halfheartedly stifled a chuckle. “Well then, let’s get that wine!”

Claire laughed. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, James.”

The wine, when it arrived, was every bit as delicious as promised, and it perfectly complemented the food. As they dug into the main course a short while later, Claire asked James what he wanted to do together the following day.

“Actually, I got a tee time at nine a.m.,” he said between bites.

“Wait, seriously?” asked Claire. “When did you do that?”

“While you were asleep. I called the front desk.”

“…oh,” Claire said flatly. “I was hoping we could do something together tomorrow.”

“We’ll still have the afternoon!” said James. “We can do whatever you want, it’s up to you.”

“I know.” What Claire really knew, though, was that James would be spending the afternoon at the nineteenth hole, the way he always did when he golfed in the morning. She made a mental note to make a call to the front desk and ask about scheduling a massage at the spa.

“Besides,” James went on, “This is just day one. We’ll have so much time together. I was just so excited about checking out the golf course. It’s legendary.”

“I know.”

The two of them finished their meal in relative silence, and by the time they got into the elevator, Claire was feeling a surprisingly strong buzz from the wine. Her wedges felt like they were throwing her balance off ever so slightly more than before, and it took a little more concentration to walk in a straight line. She looked up at James, who smiled back at her. She could see in his eyes that he was feeling tipsy as well. His eyes glinted mischievously, and his gaze kept slipping down to her chest and hips, then back up to her face.

“You know,” said James, “if we’re going to be apart tomorrow morning, we should make time to be enjoy each other tonight.”

“And how should we do that?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“Such as?”

He reached out and put his big hands on her hips, then pulled her in slowly. Claire felt the warmth of his broad body against hers. His chest was firm, and she felt it expand as he breathed. He smelled woody and fresh. She rested her hand on his shoulder. It felt solid. His hands snaked up her back and shoulders, then back down to her hips. Claire heard herself sigh, and when she looked up at him he leaned in and kissed her on the lips. It was harder than she expected, and she pressed back into him. She heard him inhale sharply, and his hands pressed into her back.

“Someone’s excited,” Claire mumbled.

“How could I not be, with you wearing that dress?”

“Shhhhh”

#

Then the elevator dinged, and they pulled apart just long enough to tumble down the hall and into the hotel room. Almost as soon as their room door was closed, James’ hands were on her again, only this time they were throwing her back on the bed, then he was on top of her, kissing her lips, her neck, her shoulders. She felt his hands run up down her arms and her sides, feeling her hips, snaking back up and squeezing her breasts. She wrapped her arms around him, and she could feel the muscles of his back working as he felt her body. James let out a moan and ran his hands down Claire’s thighs and calves, and this time when he brought them back up he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up, up past her knees, past her thighs, past her belly button, past her breasts. Claire raised her arms overhead for him and let him pull off the dress, then laid back in her underwear.

James moved back upright on his knees and pulled the golf shirt up overhead, exposing his chest. Claire reached up and felt him, her hips writhing almost involuntary.

“I want you so bad,” James breathed heavily.

“I’m all yours.”

Suddenly his hands were grabbing at her underwear and pulling it down. Claire closed her legs, letting James pull her thong down off of her, and immediately his hands began working at his belt. Claire suddenly wished she had taken a shower before dinner, like he did. Her legs were still pressed together. She cautiously opened them for him. What was he seeing, what was he thinking? She took a deep breath as James dropped his pants, and mis manhood sprang up with a bounce as it was freed from his boxers, semi-hard. She felt relieved to see that, to see his excitement growing before her eyes. There was a metallic ding of a belt buckle hitting the floor. She reached down to touch herself, to test how ready she was, to try to get to a place where he could enter her.

With a flash he was back on top of her, kissing her lips. She felt his tongue exploring her mouth, felt his hands grab at her breasts, pulling at her bra. She reached around and unhooked her bra for him, which James promptly thew to the side. Claire felt a rush of cool air on her nipples as she spread her legs wider for him, letting him settle in between them, and then suddenly there was the tight pressure of his cock entering her.

She gasped. “Fuck, yes,” said James. He groaned and began to thrust hard, so hard that her body rocked back and forth. Almost too hard.

Claire dug her fingers into her back as moans escaped her mouth. She felt his hips thrust faster and faster, his member now fully erect inside of her. “Oh, James,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“Oh yeah,” James moaned, “Oh fuck baby, that feels good.” He kept thrusting on top of her as she lay on her back, wrapping her legs around his frame. Slow down, she thought. You’re going to finish way too fast, and I’m just getting started.

“Mmm, baby,” Claire said, “Let me feel you. Let me feel every inch.” She hoped he would get the message, but he did not seem to. Her husband laid on top of her with his head beside hers. His eyes were shut, and beads of sweat formed on his brow. He grunted with his thrusts, his hands squeezing her breasts. Claire tried to enjoy it, even though his hard and too-fast thrusts left her wanting. She closed her eyes and held still, trying to focus on what pleasurable feelings there were between her thighs. With every pump she felt a glow radiating from her sex, even if they were too quick for anything very strong to build. She tried to focus on that glow, to hold it and stoke it like a fire. As she heard him groan, she let herself sink into the pleasure. Her hips bucked, and the fire grew a little. Now she was getting somewhere. Like an ember flickering into a flame, the pleasure began to swell in her sex with every thrust. She let out a long moan. Was she actually getting close? His hands dug into her breasts, firmly, almost too much. If she let him keep at this a little longer, would she actually—

“Aaaah! Oh God, fuck!” James groaned loudly as his rhythm stuttered and broke. “Oh my God, Claire.” He let out of few more grunts as his thrusts turned into twitches and bucks of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, yes, oh God yes.” His grip on her tightened, and his hands skipped from her chest to her sides, her hips, her shoulders.

Claire inhaled sharply as she felt his orgasm. She rubbed his back, trying to show him some affection. After a moment, James’ movements came to a stop and he lay on top of her, breathless. “Oh baby, was that good for you?” She asked.

“Mmm,” James moaned. “Yes it was. So fucking good.” He propped himself up and she felt one final spark as he pulled out of her.

Claire sighed and closed her legs. “I’m so glad you liked it.” She smiled up at him. Oh well, she thought. Better luck next time.

James chest heaved with each heavy breath. “That was amazing.” He got up and put his underwear back on, then disappeared into the bathroom.

While he was gone, Claire looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Her sex still felt hot and achy. The room spun slowly, from a combination of arousal and tipsiness, and after a moment she found herself reaching down in between her legs. Her finger brushed her clitoris and she felt a burst of sparks. Cautiously, she began to rub herself with a fingertip in a circular motion, feeling a warm pleasure build up again. It was weaker this time. She rubbed faster, feeling disappointed and searching for the place she had been just a moment before. She felt a pleasurable warmth, but the earlier glow proved elusive. Claire searched and strained, letting her mind wander down to her fingers, down to her clit, letting the feeling fill up her thoughts. They drifted to Arturo. The flash of his smile, the way his accent punctuated everything his said, the way he talked with his strong, veiny hands. Her heartbeat quickened, both from excitement and a pang of guilt from feeling this way about someone other than her husband. But maybe it was okay if it was just thoughts… her legs strained and moved against the sheets. Then she heard the bathroom door click, and a startled Claire yanked her hands back to her sides.

“Hey babe,” James said, poking his head out. “Do you need to go get cleaned up?”

Claire rolled her head sideways to look at him “Yeah, probably,” she said. She stood up and felt his cum start to run down her thigh. She slipped into the bathroom past her husband and closed the door.

#

James left for the golf course the next morning after an early breakfast, and Claire was on her own. Arturo must not have been working, because their server for breakfast was an older woman with her hair in a messy bun. With nothing in particular planned, she decided to go for a stroll in the resort gardens tucked behind their building. The gardens had a network of cobblestone paths crossing through them, and all manner of native plants filled the grounds with small black signs tastefully displaying the names of the more interesting and exotic plants. As Claire walked through in jean shorts and a t-shirt, she looked up at the palm trees gracefully curving overhead, leaning gently in the breeze. The sky was a deep blue with small story-book clouds resting peacefully up above. At head hight, all manner of dark jade-colored leaves filled the space under the palm trees. The plants were so dense that it was difficult to tell where one ended and another began. There were fern leaves that looked like fountains frozen in time, woody bushes with small oval-shaped leaves, and tropical plants with the sort of broad, veiny leaves the size of dinner plates that Claire thought would look beautiful in her living room. She had brought one home a few months before to put next to the window, but James had said it was ugly.

Claire took a breath. Stop thinking about him, she thought. Just look at the flowers. It seemed like every color and shape imaginable was represented by the flowers that dotted the green mass on either side of the path like stars in the night sky. Fragrant constellations of purple, white, and red populated the various branches. There were bright summery yellows too, and pale blues. Small round flowers and flowers with broad long petals that seemed to splash out from the foliage. Flowers shaped like roses, trumpets, and sunbursts. Hummingbirds flitted about, and birdsong filled the air. It was truly lovely. The sun warmed her shoulders pleasantly, and Claire could hear water murmuring from somewhere nearby. When she turned a corner, she came across a koi pond, perhaps 15 yards wide, surrounded by cobblestone, a small wooden bridge bisecting it across its width. The path continued on past the pond, but Claire saw a wooden bench to the right and decided to sit down and rest.

She watched the large fish swim lazily through the pond. There were about a dozen, she figured. Most were gold with dark spots, but a few were more of a solid reddish-orange, and two were white with black splotches. She wondered what the fish were doing, what they were thinking. They seemed to drift along without a care in the world, and Claire found herself wishing that she could move through life as effortlessly as the fish in the pond. They did not seem worried about getting anywhere; after all, there was nowhere to go. But she imagined they were happy anyway, moving wherever the water would take them, living in this beautiful garden paradise. As she watched, the shapes of the individual fish seemed to melt away in the ripples, and the school looked more like a shifting swirl of color in the pond, a single shape dancing through the water.

After a few minutes, Claire looked up and noticed a man across the pond, appearing to be an employee working on the hedges. He wore a dark baseball cap over long dark hair, a blue short-sleeved collared shirt, khakis, and white tennis shoes. His arms held a hedge trimmer, and his short sleeves revealed thick forearms with muscles that flickered every clip. Even though she could not see his face, she felt who it was. Arturo.

A cool spark echoed through her body. She felt happy to see him, and if she were being honest, she may have missed him at breakfast that morning. He didn’t seem to notice her sitting across the pond. She wanted to say something. She didn’t want to interrupt him. It would be so nice to hear his voice again, though. But what would he think about her if she called out to him? What would her husband think if he knew she was talking to this man, this man who yesterday was a perfect stranger? What if it weren’t even him? And yet she wanted so, felt an urge to see his smile, and somehow she felt bold.

“Arturo!” His name burst out of her almost involuntarily.

He spun around and lowered the hedge trimmers, and to her relief, when he saw Claire his face broke out into a wide grin. “Claire!” He said. “Claire la guapa! How are you doing this fine morning?”

Claire smiled back at him. “I’m well, thank you. How are you? Are you working?”

“Muy bien, señora. Gracias. I am actually just wrapping up right now.”

“Oh good,” said Claire. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Crossing the bridge toward her, Arturo waved his hand and shook his head, saying, “Nonsense Claire, it is a pleasure to be interrupted by you. And to be honest, I can be done now. The work I was doing was extra.”

Claire felt a rush as he approached, and found herself shifting to the side of the bench to open a space for him. After leaning his hedge trimmers against the side of the bench, he took a seat to her right, sliding his left arm across the back of the bench behind her. Butterflies began circling her stomach.

“I’m—I’m glad,” said Claire. “It’s good to see you again.” Had she said that already? Her mind felt a little jumbled. “I didn’t know you worked here in the garden, too.”

“Sí, I help out all over the resort. This morning I happened to be on hedge trimming duty.”

“It looks like they keep you busy.”

“They do. Where is your husband? James, right? Is he with you?”

“No, he’s at the golf course. He’ll probably be there for another hour or so.”

Arturo removed his baseball cap, setting it down on the bench to the right, and ran a hand through his dark hair, which fell around the sides of his face. “And left you all alone here in the garden?”

Claire looked down and chuckled. “It’s alright,” she said, “I’ve had a pleasant morning just walking around this beautiful place.”

Suddenly Arturo leaned in closer to her and placed his free right hand on Claire’s bare thigh. It felt solid and strong, with thick palms. She could feel the presence of his left arm behind her resting on the bench, not quite touching her shoulders. And now she could feel electricity radiating from her leg, almost a tingling sensation. She felt another rush, breathed in sharply and smelled him, the slight tang of sweat mostly hidden by a leathery, musky cologne.

“Ay, yes, our gardens are beautiful,” Arturo whispered. “Thank you for saying this. And now” — he sat back up a little, keeping his hand on her right thigh — “I must ask you. I am not interrupting your private alone time, am I?”

“No!” Claire blurted. She could feel her heart beating hard. Her head was swimming, and yet she felt so at home next to him. Being here with Arturo, alone in the garden, felt like a sanctuary. She felt no discomfort with him, rather more of a nervous curiosity. Who was he, and where did he come from? She watched the golden swirl in the pond before them twist around and seem to envelop the pair of them. Like a sunrise in the water.

“Good,” Arturo said with a soft smile, and as he said it he leaned back closer and his right hand slid three inches up her thigh, his fingers soft on her skin. It felt so natural and graceful, his hand gentle and yet not without strength. Claire felt it acutely, felt a jolt in her thigh, in her chest, then a gentle warmth between her legs. She froze for a second, hoping he didn’t notice how nervous she was, trying to remember when the last time was that she shaved her legs. She thought she should be upset, she thought that her thoughts themselves should simmer down, tried to corral her mind away from this man and back towards her husband. She thought she was wrong, thought her feelings were wrong, and of course it only made them burn harder. “I enjoy your company, Claire,” she heard Arturo say. “Please, I must know more about you. I want to know everything. Tell me what is in your past, what is in your mind, what is in your heart.”

“Oh,” said Claire, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I don’t know. I mean, there’s a lot in my mind. But you don’t need to listen to all that.”

“Tell me,” said Arturo. “You and your husband, you are from the mainland, yes?”

“Yeah, we live in Minnesota.”

“A lovely place,” said Arturo. “I love the wild places, the lakes, the people. You’ve lived there for long?”

Claire couldn’t help but smile. “Born and raised. My husband grew up in Michigan, but he went to college in Minneapolis on a football scholarship. That’s where we met.”

“A lovely story. He seems like a nice man. You must have a wonderful relationship.” Arturo’s hand hadn’t moved. Claire found herself hoping that it didn’t, in spite of herself.

“Yes. Although ever since our son moved out to college, it’s been…”

“How has it been?”

Claire paused. “Different. Like, our marriage used to be vibrant, as vibrant and colorful as the flowers in this garden.” She gestured outwards. “But somewhere along the line, it faded. Like an old picture. It faded, and I guess we — I — never really noticed, because there was always our child around to keep our focus off of each other. But now it’s front and center—the fading, I mean—and it’s just a little bit of a shock and it’s hard to ignore. I never noticed, I guess, that he was paying more attention to his work and his hobbies than he was to me. I never noticed how little time we were spending together and how little he cared. And for my end, I was always so involved with my son that I wonder if maybe I’ve abandoned him too.” She stopped herself, suddenly self conscious that she had spilled too much, gotten too personal. Was she making him uncomfortable? “Sorry,” she said, “I’m rambling.”

Looking up at Arturo, she saw a pair of concerned deep brown eyes.

“Claire, Claire, do not be sorry.” His thumb began to stroke her thigh, gently. Soothingly. “I am heartbroken to hear this. For a woman as lovely and thoughtful as yourself, you deserve from your Husband the whole world. Even from our short time together, I can see in your eyes, tines una alma hermosa. You have such a beautiful soul, such a beautiful spirit. To share even this time with you is a blessing. To share a whole life you must be paradise. And it is so unfortunate when a spirit like yours goes unnoticed and unappreciated. Maybe your time here in paradise may help him to see that. Maybe that will help him reconnect with you.”

“I hope so. Sorry, I don’t mean to tell you all of my personal problems.”

“Do not apologize,” Arturo said, patting her thigh. “I believe you can completely change things. You are so kind and loving, I can tell. I have seen many couples come and go from this place, many people who drift in and out. But you, you are special. I can feel it. And I think you will have a very special experience here with us. Remember that this is not your fault, but a relationship is a living thing, not a just work of art. Without attention and care, it can grow weak. But with work, it can grow and thrive and bloom.” He gestured outward, taking his hand off her leg and holding it in front of him, palm turned upwards. “Just like this garden.”

Removing Arturo’s hand cut the electric current flowing through her leg, and Claire’s heart slowed a little. Her breathing returned to normal. “Thank you. I think we will be okay.” She felt the denim of her shorts and fidgeted, struggling to remember what she normally did with her hands while talking. After a moment, she folded them neatly in her lap. “Enough about me, though. Where are you from?”

“Colombia, señora,” said Arturo. “Mi familia is still there.”

“You’re a long way from home. What brought you here to Hawaii?”

“I got a work Visa a few years ago. Mi madre, she is getting old and can’t work as much any more. So I came here to earn money and send it home, to her and my sisters. My hope is to soon save up enough to attend University.”

“That is wonderful. You are such a remarkable young man. Your mother is lucky to have you as a son. And I’m sure your sisters look up to you. You will do so well.”

Now Arturo smiled, looked down at the ground for a split second. Claire swore she saw him blush. “Gracias,” he said.

“You need to teach me some Spanish.”

“Maybe I will.” Arturo grinned. “I love to teach people. I would love to become a teacher someday.” His eyes seemed to light up a little, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. His strong jaw still had his beard that was just barely too long to be called stubble, and a wayward lock of wavy black hair hung down in front of his cheek. His shirt was buttoned down just enough to reveal a hint of chest hair below his collarbones. His tanned arms looked strong and solid.

“What would you teach?”

“Spanish. Maybe math. I loved math back when I was a boy, un niñito.”

“I would love to be your student.”

“Would you?”

Claire sat up a little straighter. She felt bold and wanted to send a spark of her own back at him, a response for… really, everything about him. She wanted him to feel the excitement she had felt, the excitement of meeting a thrilling stranger, this man who made her feel a way again that she had not felt in so long. She had spent so long serving a husband and son who now no longer needed her, or so it felt. She wanted someone else to serve her for a change.

“Of course. Now that I think about it, why don’t you come and teach me some time, while I’m here with you?

Arturo smiled. “I would like teaching you, sí. What would you want to learn?”

“I want you to teach me some Spanish.”

“Just some Spanish? Nothing else?”

“Well…” Claire started, and her voice trailed off.

Arturo again rested his hand on her thigh, higher than before, more than halfway up to her hips from her knee. Just below the hem of her shorts. He leaned in until his head was nearly touching hers, until she could smell his scent again. Her heart began to race, her head felt light, a white glow raced back through her body again. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach now, and she felt an ache growing in her loins.

“I will teach you whenever you are ready, Claire,” Arturo said. “I can teach you many things. When you are ready to be my student, you give me the word and I will show you everything I know. But for now I must go. I hope you will excuse me.”

Claire’s head felt like it was swimming, her thoughts shifting in every direction like the fish in the pond in front of her. She didn’t want him to go, she wanted him to stay here in the garden that felt like a bubble, by the pond that seemed to glow in the sunlight. She wanted to keep feeling his faint warmth and hearing his voice as soothing as the bird songs.

“Oh no,” she heard herself say, “Do you need to get back to work?”

“I have some errands to attend, and I am sorry to leave you. But don’t worry, we will meet again when you dine with us for supper, señora.” With his left hand, he gave her shoulders a quick rub, and for a brief delectable instant she could feel both of his hands on her at once, completing the electrical current that shot through her stomach.

“I can’t wait.”

Arturo stood up and put his hat back on. “Until next time, Claire,” he said with a wave and a smile.

“Goodbye, Arturo,” said Claire, grinning. “It was so nice to talk to you. Thank you for keeping me company.”

“It was my pleasure.” Arturo took his hedge trimmers, turned, and vanished into the garden.

She looked back at the fish, who continued swimming in swirls before her. She wondered if they could see her and Arturo together on the bench, could know somehow what had just happened. She found herself wanting a witness, wishing there was someone else who could verify that she had not just imagined her conversation with him, that it had really taken place and she had really felt his real touch. She wished the fish could talk, to tell her that she was right to feel this way. But of course, how could they? And after a moment, Claire simply told herself to take comfort in the fact that the only witnesses to her encounter with Arturo, were the ever-silent fish, the ultimate keepers of her secret that was beginning to blossom like the flowers in the garden.

#

James was in a good mood that afternoon, like he always was after a round of golf, but Claire barely noticed as they got ready for dinner. Her thoughts were consumed by Arturo. She felt anxious, eager to impress him, to look good for him, and no matter how hard she tried to push the feelings away they only seemed to grow. She felt almost embarrassed for feeling this way. It seemed beneath her to develop a crush like this on a man barely more than half her age, after all. And yet she felt intoxicated by him, at once dreading and relishing the chance to see him again.

After a shower, James changed into a gingham long-sleeve button down and khaki shorts, with boat shoes on. Claire slipped into a strapless patterned orange sundress and sandals and went into the bathroom to brush her hair. It didn’t look quite right, and she kept trying to get the frizz out to no avail. With a sigh, the tied it back into a low ponytail. That looked alright, she thought. Not quite as sexy as she had hoped, but it looked put together enough. Just for fun, she pulled down the front of her dress to reveal a little more cleavage.

Claire looked at herself in the mirror and smiled, feeling almost giddy. What am I doing, she thought. Is this crazy? It seemed insane to her that she wanted so badly to look good for someone other than her husband, but she found herself craving Arturo’s attention. She thought of the way his hand had felt on her earlier, the way his arm felt around her. She wanted that again. She wanted his hands on her, and she found herself imagining them on her legs, on her back, exploring every inch…

“Claire, you ready?” James called from outside in the room.

“Uh, yeah,” she called, feeling startled. “Be out in a second.” She straightened her dress and walked out.

Claire and James made their way downstairs to the restaurant and were seated by the same pleasant young hostess from the evening before. Claire’s heart was racing already when they took their seats and got water, so much so that she could barely pay attention to James droning on about his golf game that morning. She felt almost giddy when she saw Arturo approach to take their drink orders.

“Hola, mis amigos,” said Arturo. “How is the lovely couple doing this evening?” Claire looked up and her heart skipped a beat when she saw that Arturo’s beautiful dark brown eyes were locked on hers. They seemed to pull her in, inescapable. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

“I’m doing well,” said Claire. “How are you, Arturo?” She barely heard James add, “I’m well too.”

“I am doing wonderful, and I am very happy to see you,” said Arturo. He had not taken his eyes off Claire, not even glancing at James. “May I interest you in something to drink?”

Claire asked for a glass of white wine, hoping it would calm her nerves. James ordered scotch.

Arturo was cheerful as ever as he brought out the drinks. He asked what they wanted to order for the main course, recommending a lamb shank with a homemade mint sauce. Claire didn’t need to hear any more: she loved lamb. James ordered the same, and Arturo turned away with a wink.

“Do you want to go to the beach with me tomorrow?” Claire asked as they waited for their food.

James’s face tightened, and he pursed his lips. “Um, actually…” he began.

“What?”

“I can go in the morning.”

“Just the morning?”

“Well, when I went golfing today, they were having a special where you could get a second tee time half off if you booked it immediately. But tomorrow at 1pm was the only time they had available. So I took it.”

“Oh,” said Claire. “That’s fine.”

“Thanks, babe,” said James. “I knew you’d understand.”

There was a moment of silence. Claire looked past her husband, out onto the expansive patio of the half-outdoor restaurant, past the bar, past the palm trees swaying in the warm sea breeze, out towards the beach and the ocean. She felt frustrated to be chasing time with her husband, and almost wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her. She knew he loved golf, but did he love it more than spending time with her?

“How was it out on the course today?” She finally asked.

“Oh, it was fine,” said James.

“You had lovely weather.”

“Yeah, I did. I actually met a couple guys at the 19th hole, who are going with me tomorrow. So that will be fun.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Claire. “I’m glad you have some people to spend time with.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

More silence. Eventually the food arrived, which was admittedly delicious. Claire said as much when Arturo came by to check on them. She and her husband ate mostly in silence. When they were finished with the main course, James excused himself to go to the bathroom. Claire sat alone, staring again out towards the beach, and wondered what she was going to do with the afternoon tomorrow. Read her book, probably. While James was gone, Arturo returned to the table.

“Hola, guapa,” he said with a smile, and slid his hand onto the back of Claire’s chair. “I hope you enjoyed your meal. Can I interest you in anything for dessert?”

“Some company would be nice,” Claire blurted. Immediately she felt embarrassed, even though it was the truth. She was tired of fighting for James’ attention. This was supposed to be the vacation that brought her closer to her husband, and instead it felt like they were farther apart than ever. She felt her cheeks flush and looked sheepishly up at Arturo. He smiled gently.

“I may be able to help with that, señora,” he said, brushing his thumb on her bare shoulder.

“Oh, Arturo,” laughed Claire, “I’m sure you have more important work to do.”

“My most important work is the pleasure of our guests,” he said. “And as I recall, you were open to me teaching you some things.”

Claire inhaled sharply, feeling his touch on her skin, cold and hot at the same time. Her heart beat faster and she looked away. She could smell his cologne, the same as earlier, leathery and earthy.

“I don’t know, Arturo…” Claire said. She knew that she wanted him, though. She wanted to feel the rest of his hand on his shoulder. She wanted to feel his hands on more than her shoulders. She wanted to take him in, see what he looked like underneath the black button down that offered just a glimpse of his broad, hairy chest.

“You don’t have to know right now, Claire. And if you decide you don’t want it after all, that is okay. But, once you do know, tell the front desk your air conditioner is broken. I know your husband will be playing golf in the afternoon. I will come to your room to fix it while he is away.”

Claire took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush in her chest and the butterflies in her stomach. How did he know James would be playing golf? This couldn’t actually be happening, could it? Her mouth was dry and she felt too nervous to speak, so she simply nodded. Suddenly Arturo looked up away from her. His hand lifted up away from her shoulder.

“James, welcome back!” he called.

Claire turned her head and saw her husband returning from the bathroom. “Hello, Arturo,” he said as he sat down.

“I was just about to ask if you two would like to enjoy some dessert. May I leave you with the menu?”

“Of course, thank you,” said James. Arturo produced two dessert menus from his apron, set them on the table, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Claire’s head was spinning so much that she could barely pay attention to James as he asked her what she wanted. She mumbled something about getting whatever was good with him, and he settled on some sort of fruit custard. Arturo returned to the table to take their order, but Claire barely registered it. It was different with James present, even though she could feel his eyes on her, hot and hungry. She could feel how much he wanted her, this mysterious man half her age with smooth caramel skin. She watched his forearms bulge and ripple as he wrote down the order in his notebook, and later, when he brought out the plates. The custard was as sweet and delicious as the warm island breeze. Claire watched the sunset over the ocean ignite the sky into a kaleidoscope of orange and purple as she finished dessert, unable to think of anything but tomorrow.

#

Claire could barely sleep that night. Trying not to think of Arturo was proving impossible. He had a grip on her mind that was inescapable, and all she could imagine was the grip he would have on her body the next day. Was she really going to let him? It seemed unreal; after all, she loved James still even after all these years. And yet, she could not let this opportunity by. She could not deny herself this. After all this time of putting her pleasure aside for her son, for her husband, for her job, for everything else, it was time for her to take a step for herself. She deserved this, she thought. And whatever happened, it would be a secret. What James didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, it might help him, if she did actually learn a thing or two from Arturo. Something in her had been awakened, something worth exploring and fostering, something that could maybe help bring back to her marriage. What if this was the spark she needed?

In the morning, Claire and James decided to go for a walk together on the beach. He suggested that it would be romantic. Claire outwardly agreed but secretly hoped that it would serve to pull her ravenous mind off of Arturo. She was excited and anxious, eager for what the afternoon would bring while James was at the golf course. As James scrolled on his phone in bed, Claire got up and went to the bathroom to shower.

She wanted to be ready for whatever the day would bring—whatever it was that Arturo wanted from her. The water turned on with a hiss, and she took off her nightgown and let it fall to the floor. The air felt cool and energizing on her body until she stepped into the shower and felt the embrace of the warm water. She washed her hair with the hotel shampoo, which had a rich floral scent with just a hint of lemongrass. The warm water caressed her body, and she thought again of Arturo’s electric hands running across her skin. Then she added the conditioner, which was thick and smelled of sweet coconut. She washed her body with the provided soap, careful to be extra thorough and get every nook and cranny. As hard as she tried not to imagine what the day would bring, as much as she wanted to believe that everything that happened would be innocent, Claire found herself wanting to be extra clean for him anyway. As she ran her hands up and down her arms, stomach, and legs, she closed her eyes imagined that it was actually his hands on her. It was exciting and dangerous, and she even let herself run a finger across her clit as she washed herself. It was a tease, a taste of what was to come.

After Claire rinsed off the soap, she pulled her razor and shaving cream off of the ledge in the shower. She wanted to be perfect for Arturo, to fill his fantasies the way he would fill hers. Claire raised her right arm and quickly shaved her armpit so it was perfectly smooth, then followed suit with her left arm. Then after applying the shaving cream to her legs from foot to hip, she got to work, gently bringing the razor up in smooth long strokes. She didn’t want to cut herself or get razor burn. When she got all the way up to the top of her thigh, she stopped and pondered for a moment the soft patch of pubic hair around her sex. Surely a young man like Arturo was used to young women who were completely bare. But this was different. She wanted to be different. She wanted to thrill and excite him, be as new and exotic to him as he was to her. And so she lifted the razor and left her bush intact, feeling sexy and feminine.

After she stepped out of the shower, she blow toweled off and used the blow drier to dry her hair. Unlike the previous day, this time there was no frizz. The conditioner had worked its magic, and her hair was silky and smooth as it fell around her shoulders. Claire then went to work putting on makeup. Normally she was content with some mascara and eyeliner, but today she applied a full face of foundation, concealer, and highlighter until her cheekbones gleamed and her skin looked smooth. Claire put on eyeshadow until her eyes looked sharp enough to cut steel. She put on ruby red lipstick and smacked her lips, and then backed up to admire her work in the mirror. She thought she looked irresistible. She wrapped a towel around her torso and returned to the hotel room.

James looked up from his phone, still lying on the bed. “Damn, sweetie, you look great,” he said with more than a hint of surprise. “What’s the occasion?”

Claire shrugged and smiled. “I just want to look good for you, honey.”

“It looks like you succeeded.” James smiled hungrily.

Claire selected a dark one-piece swimsuit and white coverup for her outfit. It would work well for the beach, and she thought it would be a sexy surprise for Arturo when he arrived. She put on her sandals and a wide-brimmed straw hat, and they were out the door.

Their walk on the beach would have been romantic if she could bring herself to focus on it. The sand was pure white, the azure water as clear as glass. Palm trees swayed in the breeze as they walked, and white cotton candy clouds floated up overhead. The air smelled salty and fresh. James might have said he loved her, might have asked if she was having a good time. Claire might have told him she loved him too.

When it came time for lunch, they returned to the restaurant and were again served by the same kind older woman who had served them the previous day. Sushi was on the menu, which they ate eagerly.

“What time will you get back from golf?” Claire asked as they waited for the check.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe four? I think we’re going to get drinks afterwards, if you don’t mind.”

Claire waved her hand to say she didn’t mind. “Of course not, James,” she said. “Take all the time you need. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“Well thanks, hon. I’m glad you understand.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to have a good time. This is a vacation for both of us.”

Claire was giddy as they paid for the food and walked back to the room. As they went up the elevator, she checked her watch. It was 12:30. There was a lot of time left for her. She walked with her husband into the room. He changed into his golf shirt and kissed her goodbye, then vanished out the door. It was 12:45 when Claire picked up the phone to call the front desk to put in her maintenance request. Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding in her chest. Here we go, she thought. God have mercy on my soul.

Claire dialed the front desk and heard a tone, followed by a click. A friendly female voice greeted her, and asked how she could be of service today.

“Hi,” said Claire. Her mouth was so dry it was hard to get the words out. Her voice sounded far away. “I was wondering if you could send someone to fix the air conditioning in my room.”

“Of course. What is your room number?”

“3235.” She was relieved that she could still remember it.

“Thank you. I will send someone right up.”

“Thanks,” said Claire, and hung up. She fell back on the bed with a rush of excitement and anticipation. It was really happening. She couldn’t wait to have Arturo all to herself, to do something this daring and forbidden. She craved him, craved his scent, craved his body on hers. He couldn’t get here soon enough. Claire spread her legs on the bed, and reached down and felt in between them. It felt warm and eager. She even slipped a finger under her swimsuit and felt her sex—it was wet already. She wiped her finger off on her thigh and tried to relax, but it was almost impossible. She closed her eyes and imagined Arturo. The way he moved, the way his voice sounded. How long would she have to wait? Five minutes? Twenty minutes? Each second felt like agony. She tried to remind herself that she looked as hot right now as she possibly could, and he already wanted her. And then there was a knock at the door.

Claire jumped up and hoped that he wouldn’t notice how much her legs were trembling. She walked to the door, feeling the white coverup swaying around her shoulders, and pulled it open.

Arturo stood before her, his face framed by chin-length wavy black hair, his razor-sharp jawline covered in thick dark stubble. His fierce, hungry brown eyes sat atop his sharp cheekbones. He wore a blue collared shirt, which was unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a thatch of black chest hair, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had on a gold watch and a shiny gold name tag that read “Arturo.” Blue jeans hugged his thighs and crotch, and we wore black work boots. His presence hit her like a brick.

Arturo half-smiled and said, “Hola, señora.”

“Hi, Arturo,” Claire said, her nervous voice an octave higher than usual. It sounded like it was coming from far away. She stepped back to let him in, and he stepped forward. With one quick motion, Arturo hung the “do not disturb” sign from the doorknob and let it swing closed behind him.

Claire’s heart was racing. She was so nervous she felt like she was floating. “I was wondering if you could teach me some Spanish,” she said.

“Of course,” Arturo said with a smirk. “What do you want to know?”

“How do you say ‘kiss me?'”

Arturo did not tell her. Instead he showed her—leaning in with a powerful kiss, and Claire felt a surge of energy throughout her body. His lips pressed against hers, and she smelled his earthy cologne and the gentle scratch of his stubble. His powerful arms wrapped around her back, his strong hands exploring her curves, feeling their way around her body. They kissed passionately until she could sink into his body, let her own turn to jello in her arms. She felt his back, which was as solid as oak, grabbed at Arturo’s impossibly broad shoulders. His hands clamored for her, worked their way down to her waist, squeezed her butt. She could hear and feel his breathing grow heavier as they made out, and he pushed her back towards the bed. They stumbled together a few steps, and then he reached up to her shoulders and pulled off the coverup. It fell to the ground, and she suddenly felt conscious of her cleavage exposed by her one-piece’s deep v and her bare legs.

It was then that they finally came up for air and pulled apart, looking into each other’s eyes with longing. He rested his hands on her hips and she on his shoulders. Arturo’s ravenous eyes took her in, looked her up and down from head to toe, lingering on her legs, breasts, and face.

“You look stunning, Claire,” he said in his deep accent.

“You too,” said Claire. “I want you so bad.”

“I must have you,” said Arturo, his breathing growing more intense. “I need to have you right now.”

Claire nodded and started to reach for his crotch, but before she could move she felt him lift her up in the air. The force startled her, and before she knew what was happening the gravity in the room spun sideways and he was throwing her back on the bed. She landed with her arms above her head, and then he was over her, pulling at the shoulders of her swimsuit, pulling it down. In a flash the straps came off and then the fabric peeled off her chest and her breasts were exposed, and for the first time since her marriage a man was seeing them who was not her husband. Arturo kept pulling and she raised his hips to let him pull the suit off of her entirely, and then it came off of her hips and suddenly she was laying there completely naked, completely exposed, ready for him to take her.

Arturo leaned forward and she felt his weight on top of him as he kissed her deeply once again. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, feeling the muscles in his back move as he felt her body This time his hands worked their way around her body, up her arms and shoulders, then down to her breasts, squeezing them and sending electric sparks through her chest as he played with her nipples. His hands slid up and down her legs, feeling her inner thighs, then he slipped a finger over her clit. Claire gasped with pleasure. Arturo kissed her harder and teased her clit again, letting his fingertip penetrate her ever so slightly. She moaned his name. She was gushing.

Then Arturo pulled away from her mouth and kissed her neck, working his way down slowly to her collarbone, then to her breasts where he let his tongue swirl around each of her nipples in turn. He sucked on them until she squirmed, and she ran her fingers through his long hair. He worked his way down her stomach, kissing gently, down past her belly button. Claire bucked her hips, desperate to feel his tongue on her sex, but as he approached he veered off to the side and brought his lips to her inner thigh instead.

“Please…” she sighed. He moaned, slowly kissing and licking up her smooth freshly saved thigh, towards her crotch, but again when he got close he lifted his head and moved to her other leg, again kissing upwards towards her sex. Claire groaned again, feeling her loins ache, wanting to feel him so badly. Her hips squirmed. She grabbed his hair tighter, trying to pull his head towards her sex.

“Please, Arturo, l need you, please,” she started to beg. She couldn’t believe the effect he was having on her.

And then she felt his warm, wet tongue cover her sex, and she let out a deep groan of pleasure. It was like an explosion radiating from between her legs, and she felt her hips squirm and thrust involuntarily as Arturo slowly licked her sex from bottom to top, sparks flying from her clit as he finished off the first lick. Again he slowly licked her with his entire tongue, lapping up her wetness, as she gasped and groaned in pleasure. Then again, and when she thought she couldn’t take it she suddenly felt the tip of his tongue circling her clit.

Claire’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as Arturo teased her clit. His warm, wet tongue looped and swiped in patterns that sent sparks flying between her legs, sparks that ignited into a swell of white-hot pleasure. She rhythmically thrusted her hips gently into his eager mouth, feeling his wide shoulders and strong back, running her fingers through his hair. His tongue moved faster, up and down her clit and labia, testing the entrance to her hole, then back up to her clit where it circled tantalizingly. The swelling of pleasure between her legs grew until it filled the entire lower half of her body, down into her tingling toes, up into her stomach, which clenched as she felt herself approaching the cliff that she hadn’t fallen from in so long.

“Please don’t stop, Arturo, please,” Claire groaned. She let herself moan, let her chest heave. Arturo’s hands snaked up her legs, feeling her hips, reaching back up to her breasts, his thumbs swirling around her nipples just like his tongue circling her clit. Claire’s whole body was glowing with pleasure, and it swelled until she thought she would burst, and then suddenly Arturo’s tongue flicked just right and her body convulsed.

She squealed helplessly, a series of gasps and groans and half-words flowing involuntarily from her throat. It felt like fireworks and electricity radiating from her sex, causing her legs to tense and her toes to curl, causing her eyes to roll into the back of her head, causing her hands to clutch the sheets, then his hair, then his back. Waves of orgasm crashed over her body, filling every inch of her, one after another, burying her in pleasure.

“Yes!” Claire screamed, “Yes, Arturo! Fuck yes! Aaah!”

She felt his tongue slow, drawing out every last drop of pleasure as her orgasm began to release its grip on her, and she slowly returned to Earth. When she opened her eyes, he was standing beside the bed between her spread legs, looking down at her. Without a word, and without breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned his shirt. One by one, they came apart to reveal his hairy chest. When he got to the last button, he pulled the shirt open and threw it off. Arturo was muscular but not overly lean—his abs were visible but not aggressively defined. His arms were nearly as thick as her legs, and with each move of his fingers his forearms rippled with muscle. It was the body of a man who spent more time working with his hands than he did in the gym.

“You look happy with that.” He said, smirking.

“I am,” said Claire.

“I hope you’re not done just yet.”

“I’m not close to done with you.” Claire wanted to return the favor. She slid forward off the edge of the bed and onto her knees before him. She looked up at Arturo, who was looking down at her. His chest was broad with big pecs and she could see him breathing. Looking straight ahead, she went to work on his belt buckle. Arturo’s stomach flexed in anticipation, tightening his six-pack. Claire could already see his impressive bulge as she undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. As it came open, revealing black briefs, she put a hand on his crotch and felt his manhood. It was warm and already hard, ready to burst free like a caged animal. Clair pulled his jeans down and tucked her fingers in the waistband of his briefs. She looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow.

“May I?” She asked.

“Por favor,” said Arturo. Claire smiled and pulled his briefs down, and his dark, hard cock sprang up, pointing straight at her. It was thick and slightly longer than her husband’s, and it was warm and smooth in her hand. It thrilled her to touch it, to stroke it, and when she took it in her mouth and heard him groan her sex tingled with excitement.

Claire began to suck on his manhood, stroking the base with one hand as she bobbed her head up and down. His cock stiffened even more in her mouth, and she took as much of it in as she could, feeling the tip hit the back of her throat and gagging as she pulled it back out. She stroked a little faster and teased the head with her tongue, as he had done with her clit, and then plunged it back into her mouth, sucking up and down, showing him how much she craved him.

“Sí, señora, sí,” Arturo moaned. Claire pulled him out of her mouth for a second and looked up, stroking as she smiled at him.

“Do you like that, Arturo?” She asked softly.

“Yes, please, it is go good,” he said, placing a hand gently on the back of her head and guiding her back onto his cock. “Yes!” He exclaimed as she eagerly sucked him once again.

Claire looked up with his manhood in her mouth and saw him looking back at her, mouth agape, forehead contorted with pleasure. She licked his cock from base to tip and watched him breathe in sharply, watched his abs convulse with every move of her hands and tongue. She stroked his balls and he groaned. He reached down and felt her breasts, felt her shoulders, and ran his hands through her hair. Then he pulled her up on to her feet, and before she knew it Arturo spun her around and shoved her torso forward onto the bed again, so that her feet were on the floor and she was bent over at the waist with her chest and head resting on the mattress. She felt exposed and open, ready for Arturo.

“Fuck me! Please!” Claire cried. She felt a strong hand rest on the top of her buttock and then gasped as the pleasure of penetration burst from her crotch. It kept growing as Arturo slid his long, thick manhood in her, and Claire moaned as she felt it go in deeper than she was used to. Arturo groaned and began to thrust, slowly at first.

“Yes, baby, fuck me,” Claire said. She rested her head sideways and listened to Arturo groan with each thrust, going faster and faster. “Do you like that, señora?” asked Arturo. “¿Te gusta?”

“I love that, keep going, please” she said.

Then he spanked her, hard, and began to thrust more forcefully.

“Ah, sí señora,” he grunted, and Claire felt his hand grab the back of her head and press it into the mattress. His hips worked even faster and harder, smacking into her ass with a meaty thwack every pump. “Sí, sí, sí, sí,”Arturo said as he fucked her. Claire felt the force of his body rock hers back and forth on the bed. His free hand squeezed her ass and then felt its way up to her hips, up to her ribcage, and back again.

“Spank me again, baby,” Claire groaned, and he did, harder this time. “Fuck, yes, that’s good!”

“You like that?” Arturo grunted.

“I love it!”

Suddenly the hand on the back of her head took a handful of her hair and pulled. Claire let out a loud yelp at the mix of pain and pleasure as her head curled back and her back arched upwards. Arturo held onto her hair, pulling her head back hard, using it as leverage as he kept fucking her from behind. God damn, she thought, he’s strong. A thrill of ecstasy swam through her body.

“Uuuughh, yeah,” Claire groaned. With his other hand Arturo cupped her breast, and then reached up and grabbed her exposed throat.

“Fuck, yes,” he grunted. “Fuck, fuck, that’s good.” He kept thrusting hard with his unrelenting hands gripping her hair and throat. Right when she thought he might climax, he slowed and released her. Claire collapsed forward onto the bed, gasping, and Arturo pulled out of her. She looked back to see him jump on the bed next to her and lay down on his back, his stiff manhood pointing up like a flagpole, his chest heaving, his body shiny with sweat.

“Ride me, Claire,” Arturo said sharply.

Claire crawled up onto the bed and did as she was told, straddling Arturo’s waist. She reached down and took his shaft in her hand, which was wet and slick to the touch. She pointed it at her sex and slowly sat down onto it, letting it fill her up again slowly, feeling the glowing pleasure ignite inside her once again. She started to ride him, bouncing up and down, gently at first, getting faster and faster. He rested his hands on her hips, feeling her ass and giving it a light smack.

Claire rested her palms on his chest as she bounced her hips above his. It felt solid and broad and damp with sweat, the mounds of his pecs covered in soft hair. She felt the waves of his abs down above his belly button. His hips rhythmically pressed up into her as she rode him, sending shockwaves of pleasure up through her clit with every thrust.

“You look like an angel, señora,” Arturo moaned. “I love the way your body moves, like a dancer.”

“God, you feel good,” said Claire. She ran her hands down his forearms, which were as thick as her calves, felt the bulge of his biceps and his firm hands. Arturo moved his hands from her hips up her back and around to her breasts. Claire let him play with her nipples, shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure flowing from her sex meld with the pleasure glowing in her chest.

Arturo slowed down and shifted his weight, and then reached out to Claire’s lower legs. He pulled her ankles toward him and her legs swung forward, so that she was sitting on his lap with her legs straight out in front of her. He sat up and suddenly they were both sitting up face to face and close together, with Claire riding him with her legs wrapped around his waist. She felt his hips buck up, and her clit grinded on his crotch. Arturo put one arm around her waist and one hand on the back of her head, and leaned in and kissed her. Hard.

They were moving only slightly, but it was enough to send shockwaves through her body. Her heart raced, she could feel his heat and smell his scent, feel the tickle of his stubble on her cheek. She held him tight, and he started moving a little faster. Her sex began to glow with hot excitement, and she felt small and safe sitting in his lap. As they kissed, she felt muffled moans escape from Arturo.

“Sí, señora, just like that,” Arturo whispered.

His hips were thrusting frantically now, and the friction against Claire’s clit was sending electricity down into her legs and up into her stomach. She felt his hands tense and his fingers dig into her. His whole body stiffened and his face tightened with his mouth wide open. She realized he was nearing climax.

“Ah, ah, ¡Dios mío! ¡Sí, Claire, sí!” Arturo shouted as his hips rubbed against hers, his rock-hard manhood thrust all the way inside her. “Ah! Ah! I’m coming, Claire!”

And then he stopped, groaning, and grunting, hips bucking and arms squeezing her so tight she could hardly breathe for a moment. She felt him finish inside her, felt his warm cum flowing up into her, and her stomach convulsed with pleasure. Claire gasped and moaned, feeling the sweat on Arturo’s back and chest mix with her own as their torsos slipped against each other.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, “That was fucking fantastic.”

“That was magnifico,” Arturo gasped. As he caught his breath, he released her and fell back onto the bed with a whoosh. Claire leaned sideways and got off of him, then collapsed next to Arturo. Their chests heaved as they each basked in the post-coital glow.

“Muchas gracias , señora,” said Arturo. “You took me to a place I’ve never been before. That was incredible. Unforgettable.”

“Thank you,” whispered Claire. “That was unreal. Your body is unreal.”

“And your body is a masterpiece.”

She blushed. “You should go before my husband gets back.”

Arturo propped himself up and looked at her. “I can’t stay just a little longer?”

Claire smiled at him. “I wish you could.”

Arturo sighed, swung his legs around to the side of the bed, and stood up. Claire watched his firm buttocks flex as he got up and walked around to retrieve his pants. His chest was still heaving, slick with sweat, and his semi-erect penis bobbed side to side as he walked. He bent down and pulled his jeans up over his thighs, then buckled his belt and and threw his shirt back around his shoulders. Claire could see his abs flexing before he buttoned the shirt and they slipped away from view.

She lay back, legs spread open, crotch still warm and wet. Her sex throbbed and she could hear a quiet ringing in her ears, her heart still racing from adrenaline. Arturo took a breath to steady himself—Claire noticed that his eyes continued to flick back to her chest.

“Thank you for a lovely time, señora,” he said with a coy smile. “I will see you at dinner, no?”

Claire smiled. “I sure hope to see you then. Goodbye for now, Arturo.” She gave him a playful wave goodbye and he grinned. Arturo not-so-subtly let his eyes drift down the length of her body one last time as he slipped out the door.

#

Claire stared up at the ceiling after Arturo left, feeling an afterglow like she had not felt in a long, long time. This was not how James had made love to her, at least not for the last several years. Had it ever been like this? Before today, Claire had felt sure that sleeping with someone other than her husband would have left her wracked with guilt. But she felt none of that at all right now, just ecstasy and bliss. She felt giddy, her mind racing around in circles, butterflies in her stomach, her thoughts consumed by Arturo like the crushes she had on cute boys back in high school. He took her to a place she had not been in far too long.

After a few minutes, she sat up in bed and walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs, using a Kleenex to wipe away the evidence of their lovemaking from between her thighs. She saw in the mirror a woman with wild hair and flushed cheeks. Her makeup was slightly smeared, her eyeliner smudged from passionate tears that she didn’t even realize had fallen. Claire turned on a warm shower and got in, taking deep breaths as she soaked in the feeling of peace that was washing over her. She wondered if James would ever be able to do this to her. She wondered if it was a good idea to try to see Arturo again. She wondered if she would ever feel guilty, ever have trouble keeping her liaison a secret from her husband. She wondered if she would take the story of her time with Arturo to her grave.

Claire was careful to clean herself carefully—she did not want the scent of another man to give her away to James. She cleaned off her makeup and rinsed out her hair. After her shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and returned to the bedroom, fetching her clothes off the floor. She looked at her phone, and saw the time was almost 2:30. Claire put back on the swimsuit and coverup that she had worn earlier, reasoning that a costume change might tip off James that something was amiss.

Once she was dressed, she straightened up the bed and decided to go out for some fresh air. She took her sunglasses off the dresser and perched them on her head. Grabbing a beach towel and her book, Claire left the room and made her way down to the ground floor, where she headed out the back of the hotel on the path towards the beach. It was a partly cloudy day, not too hot, with a delicious tropical breeze whispering through the palm trees. Claire passed the gardens and walked over the crest of the hill where the sand dunes met the crab grass, then bent down and took off her sandals as she began walking across the sand. The air smelled fresh and salty, and she could hear the din of the waves and gulls calling overhead. The sand under her toes was as soft and white as a cloud. A few other people were milling around on the beach, and off in the distance a group of younger guests were playing volleyball. The resort had set up an array of white lawn chairs on the beach, about half of which were occupied, with umbrellas set up at intervals between them. Claire felt a small thrill from walking among everyone so soon after her escapade. It made her feel sexy and naughty, and she wondered what they would think if they had known that just a few minutes before she had been getting fucked hard by a strapping young man.

Claire smiled to herself and found an empty chair. She laid the towel down over the plastic chair and pulled off her coverup, draping it across the top of the lawn chair. She sat down and laid back, resting the book on her stomach. Her eyes closed softly and she started to drift off, feeling the warm sun on her body and the gentle breeze in her hair. The rhythmic white noise of the ocean sounded quiet and distant. Claire didn’t feel worried about seeing her husband again. It was just a little secret she had—if anything, she felt proud of herself for putting her needs first for once. Life was too short to forego pleasure for the sake of someone else. She had needed fulfillment. Arturo was not a distraction, she thought. Her unmet needs had been the thing keeping her apart from her husband. Now that they were satisfied, she could give him her full attention when he returned from his golf outing. Hell, she could give his dick her full attention if that’s what he wanted. Claire almost laughed to herself at the thought. For a moment, she thought about taking out her book and reading. In the next moment, she was asleep.

#

The calling of gulls brought Claire back from her nap. They were circling overhead, interested in someone’s spilled lunch nearby. She felt refreshed and relaxed, if a little groggy. Wondering how long she had been out for, Claire pulled up her phone to check the time. 4:08. James would probably be back at the hotel room, wondering where she was. Claire sat up and stretched, reaching up over her head and twisting her back first to the left and then to the right. She yawned.

The summer sun was still high in the sky as Claire stood up and slung her cover up back on over her shoulders. The sand tickled her bare feet and she wiggled her toes to feel it one last time before she left. With her book in one hand and sandals in the other, Claire trudged back up towards the resort complex. The sound of the waves receded in the distance. The sand gave way to cool grass which gave way to the smooth concrete path back to the building. The breeze was warm and smelled of flowers. Claire felt no anxiety or shame about seeing her husband again after what had happened. She simply wanted to focus on their marriage, focus on him, use her experience as a tool to devote herself more fully to their relationship. Her needs were met, at least for now, and the hunger she had been struggling to ignore for so long was no longer a distraction.

Claire slipped her sandals on as she approached the building. She walked in the back door, through the hallway to the elevator, and pressed the button for the third floor. She wondered if James was going to be hungry for dinner already after his afternoon. She thought she could wait a little bit before eating. She wondered if she would get to meet his golfing friends, if he would think to introduce her to them. The elevator dinged and she stepped off. The hallway was cool and smelled sweet. It had obviously been cleaned recently. She found room 3235 and swiped the key, and the lock beeped and a little green light flashed. Claire opened the door and stepped inside.

James was standing directly in front of her, fists balled, jaw clenched, eyes ablaze with anger.

“What were you thinking?” He growled. His voice was not too loud, but it was stern enough that she could feel rage underneath his even tone. Claire felt a wave of panic fill her stomach.

“What?” she asked softly. “What do you mean?” She heard her voice quiver a little bit.

James held out a fist and opened his hand, palm up. In it, Claire could see Arturo’s name tag staring back up at her. A leftover artifact from their tryst. A dead giveaway. She tried to play it off, but she could feel tears welling in her eyes already.

“He just came over,” Claire whimpered, her voice sounding thin in her ears, “to fix the, uh, air conditioning.”

“The air conditioning that wasn’t broken?”

“No, it was, um—”

“I saw the way you looked at each other!” James yelled this time. “I know what you did, Claire.” He threw the name tag on the ground and rubbed his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe it. On our trip together.”

“James, please, listen—”

“No! You listen.” James stared into her eyes and pressed an index finger into her chest. “I’m going to leave for a moment. I’ll be back soon, I won’t be gone long. You will stay here and be here when I get back. Do you understand?”

“What are you doing? Please, I’m so sorry—”

“Do you understand?” James asked again, more urgently this time. “Just stay here.”

“Okay,” Claire said, and she felt like there was more to say but she simply could not get the words out. As James stormed out of the room, she felt a tear snake its way down her cheek as she collapsed to the floor, too overwhelmed and afraid even to sob. She felt paralyzed, like she was stuck in quicksand and any movement would drag her further down. Her thoughts were scrambled, her mind too fast to keep up with itself. She buried her head in her hands. What did this mean for her marriage, her family, her future? Did she regret her affair? She barely even had an answer for that. The truth, the truth she could hardly bear to admit to herself, was that her adventure had been an incredible whirlwind, that it was good, James and everyone else be damned. How could she be made to feel this bad for fulfilling her needs? Was she supposed to die without ever relieving the gnawing emptiness of something sweet unconsumed? Without experiencing every ounce of life to the fullest? Was she really meant to leave the forbidden fruit on the tree, or was it placed there as a prize for her willingness to risk everything, just once, for herself?

All these questions raced on without an answer. Claire didn’t know how for long she was on the floor. It might have been ten minutes, half an hour, or an hour. All she knew is that she hadn’t moved when she heard the knock at the door. Looking up, she saw James came back into the room. Only this time, he wasn’t alone. Trailing behind him, looking bewildered and slightly sheepish, was Arturo himself. James was gripping the other man’s forearm tightly.

Claire quickly stood up, hoping she didn’t look as disheveled and bleary-eyed as she felt. “You’re back,” she stammered, a statement directed at both men.

The door clicked shut behind them.

“Claire,” said James, flatly and sternly. “If you want to fuck other men, you’ll need to involve me.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “What do you mean? What are you saying?”

“I’m not going to be left out this time,” James continued. “If you want this, you can continue now that I’m here.”

“I don’t understand,” said Claire. Now, her confusion blunted the worst of her emotions.

“Get on your knees. Now.” James commanded.

There was so much Claire wanted to say, so many questions she had, but she felt herself almost involuntarily obey him, and she got down on her knees onto the soft carpeted floor. Claire gazed nervously up at her husband, who stared down at her alongside Arturo.

Immediately air in the room shifted, and as Claire looked up at the men she saw their faces change. Gone was Arturo’s anxious confusion. Gone was Jame’s rage. Now in their eyes she saw only a focus, a hunger, that had not been there before. She could feel what it was: desire. They both wanted her, and the very act of her getting in position was enough to wash away everything else that they felt. Now that she was available for them, it was like a veil was lifted off of both men, and what was underneath was something raw and primal. They both looked expectant and wild. Simply seeing a woman on her knees was enough to awaken something in them, something that shut out all the other baggage of the day. The room was silent except for faint breathing, growing heavier as each man grew more impassioned by the second.

“You know what we want,” James said. There was a softness in his voice that had not been there before. “Arturo, doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“Sí,” said Arturo.

“And do you promise to do exactly what we say?” he added, to Claire.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“We want you to pleasure us. Both of us.”

Claire smiled and tossed her hair back with a flick of her head, then raised one hand up against each of their thighs. She slid them both up at the same time to each man’s crotch, and her heart began to beat faster when she felt that they both had firm bulges already. She rubbed gently, teasing them. “You want me to pleasure you?” she asked. “Both of you want me?”

“Both of us need you,” said James. Arturo nodded with his mouth slightly agape. From her vantage point on the floor, Claire could see from their heavy breathing how aroused both men were. James smiled as he and Arturo reached down and began to undo their belts. Buckles clicked, and then two pairs of hands unzipped two zippers just inches from her face.

Arturo pulled his jeans down along with his underwear. They slowly passed his dark brown semi-hard manhood, and it bobbed up and down slightly when it came free. With her left hand, Claire reached up and began to stroke him gently. Then James slid down his khaki shorts, and Claire heard his belt make a metallic thud when they fell to the ground. His plaid boxer shorts sported a noticeable bulge, and when he took them down his penis sprang free. It was paler than Arturo’s, and slightly smaller but not by much. Claire took it in her right hand, stroking slowly.

She felt naughty and wild and free, and when she looked up at the men she saw both pairs of burning eyes, one brown and one blue, watching her every move with an intense passion. She locked eyes with her husband, who stood frozen with desire, and opened her mouth and took his manhood in it. He groaned, and she could feel his penis throb against her tongue. It felt firm in her mouth, but as she sucked she felt it grow stiffer and stiffer. James’ jaw dropped, eyes wide, as his hands began to explore her body, her shoulders, her hair, her breasts which were still under her one-piece. She held eye contact with him and he moaned gently, hypnotized.

“Fuck, that’s good,” James whispered. “That’s so good, baby.”

“Mmm,” Claire hummed in response without taking him out of her mouth. Her left hand continued to stroke Arturo, and she felt him grow harder as well. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him peel off his shirt, abs and pecs rippling. She couldn’t let her husband have all the fun, could she?

Claire took James as deep as she could, and when her gag reflex kicked in she heard him groan and felt his body shudder. She pulled her mouth off of him and turned her attention to Arturo. They made eye contact as she stuck out her tongue and gave the head of his manhood a slow lick, like an ice cream cone, teasing him. He bit his lip and cupped her head in his big hand, gently guiding it fully onto him, and she took him in her mouth. As she bobbed her head up and down on Arturo, she continued to stroke James with her right hand, and she felt Arturo’s hand running through her hair as James squeezed her breasts. Glancing at her husband, she noticed that he was watching her intently with an entranced look on his face.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now, babe,” James said.

Claire pulled the penis out of her mouth, one hand on each of the men’s members, working them gently, teasing them. “You think so?” she asked.

“I agree,” chimed in Arturo. “But you would look even hotter with no swimsuit on.”

Suddenly Arturo knelt down and scooped up Claire by the waist, lifting her as easily as if she weighed nothing, and she gasped as she flew back onto the bed.

“Fuck yeah,” James said, “take it off.”

Claire sat up slightly on the bed and shrugged off her white coverup, and James reached forward and pulled the straps of her one-piece down off of her shoulders. She felt the fabric slide down her chest, and then her breasts were free. She could feel Arturo’s ravenous eyes on her body as she took James’ hand in hers and helped him slowly pull down the swimsuit the rest of the way. It came down past her waist, then her hips, and then slipped off around her legs, and she was totally exposed before the two men. Claire felt her sex begin to ache with desire when she glanced up at Arturo and saw his ferocious eyes rise to meet hers. He and James stood at the end of the bed, wearing nothing but their quivering erections. Even from her vantage point, she could see glistening drops of pre-cum on their members. Her heart raced as she watched them examine every inch of her.

“Go for it,” said James, sliding a hand up Claire’s side. Suddenly Arturo’s strong hands were gripping her calves, pulling her legs apart and back. He scooped up her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, then reached down and plunged himself into her. Claire groaned as she felt that familiar white-hot burst of pleasure of Arturo penetrating her. She grabbed her thighs and held them apart for him, letting Arturo’s hands cascade across her legs, hips, and buttocks. His firm abs pulsed and bulged with each thrust, and his pecs tensed and relaxed with each movement. She watched his dark, wavy hair swing, a couple strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. Arturo’s mouth was agape, his eyes glazed as if in a trance. Meanwhile, James was feeling her breasts and arms, running his hands through her hair. He got up onto the bed, kneeling beside her.

“I love watching him fuck you,” he said. “I love how turned on you are.”

Claire turned to face her husband as her body rhythmically rocked back and forth from the force of Arturo’s powerful thrusts. When she tried to speak, she felt her words trip over each other, as if her mind were scrambled from ecstasy. Even when she got them out, her breathless voice pulsed and stuttered involuntarily from Aurora’s thrusting.

“I c-can see you’re pretty turned oh-on as well,” she said, reaching out and taking his manhood in her hand. His eyes glowed when she touched him, his breathing quickened. She began to stroke slowly. “You like that?” Claire asked.

“Yes, baby,” James moaned. “I love that.”

Claire craned her neck and took her husband back in her mouth. He groaned as she did so, and she let the force of Arturo’s fucking bob her head back and forth on James’ member. She closed her eyes and felt the four hands running up and down her body, exploring every inch of her, occasionally brushing her clitoris and nipples and hair. She moaned and listened to both men making their own noises of pleasure, reaching out and touching their powerful arms and broad chests. She felt like the center of their galaxy. Both James and Arturo were locked on her, touching her, feeling her, experiencing her with all senses, and she had them completely under her spell.

“Claire, I need you now,” James whispered eventually. She opened her eyes and watched him pull back, taking himself out of her mouth.

“T-t-take me,” she said with a smile, hair splayed out on the bed, bobbing back and forth from Arturo’s thrusting.

Arturo withdrew from her from the edge of the bed and James stood up and came around to take his place. Claire held her legs open for him, but instead of entering her, he grabbed her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. Then James pulled her waist back towards him, up in the air, and drove himself into her from behind. She felt a similar burst of pleasure and clutched the sheets, moaning with each thrust, resting her head down on the bed. James’ big hands dug into her hips and buttocks, and suddenly he spanked her sharply on her right buttock. With his other hand, he pressed her upper back into the bed, pinning her down.

“Oooh!” Claire groaned, her slurred voice muffled by blankets. “Fffuck yesss, baby!”

Then she heard a voice from above her head. “Hola, señora.” It was Arturo, who was on his knees in front of her. James released her, allowing her to push herself up onto her hands and knees and look up at the young man in front of her. He was looking down at her with an eager smile, his throbbing manhood inches from her face.

“Arturo…” was all Claire could manage to say. He ran a big hand through her hair affectionately. She eagerly took him in her mouth.

“Mmmm,” Claire said as she closed her eyes again, letting the two men’s movements take over her body. James thrusted from behind, pushing her forward onto Arturo, who gently rocked himself back and forth in her mouth, filling her up as much as she could take. She could feel his hands on her head, feeling her hair, reaching for her breasts, running up and down her arms. Claire felt another spank, this time on the left, and she let out a muffled squeal of glee.

“Fuck!” James exclaimed. “You feel so good, baby. I can’t believe it.” He thrusted faster and harder. Their bodies pulsed together in a rhythm that put her in a trance. Both men were connected to her by her mouth and her sex, both men craved her just as she craved them. As Claire’s body swayed and rocked with each thrust from behind her, she closed her eyes and let the electric explosions of pleasure shoot from between her thighs down her legs and up her torso. Her hands clutched at the blankets. Her breasts swayed in the air with each thrust.

Suddenly Arturo pulled her head off of him. Claire gasped for air.

“I need to taste you,” Arturo said breathily. “Lo necessito.” Before she could respond, he swung his body underneath hers, so that his head was below her stomach with his legs splayed in front of her. Looking down at him, she saw him work her way back towards her legs. First his collarbones disappeared from her field of view, then the coarse thatch of chest hair slid down before her eyes, followed by shimmering abdominal muscles slick with sweat, then finally a line of dark hair that thickened before it opened up to waves of pubic hair around his manhood. Claire immediately gave Arturo a long ice-cream-cone lick up his thick, hard shaft.

She let out an involuntary yelp of pleasure when he reciprocated, letting his warm tongue slowly slide across her swollen clit while James continued to make love to her from behind. It felt like a warm radiant burst between her thighs, which twitched and quivered with pleasure. Claire took Arturo in her mouth, her sucking becoming frantic with pleasure.

James clutched at her ass as he thrusted, and Arturo’s tongue worked its way around her clit in an intoxicating pattern of circles and swirls. Claire felt entranced as a familiar pleasure swelled from both inside her and outside on her clit. She echoed Arturo’s muffled moans from between her legs when he reached up and let his thumbs trace circles around her nipples, just as his tongue was working from below…

Claire pulled Arturo out of her mouth, stroking him hard and fast as she exclaimed “Yes, please, fuck! That’s so fucking good!” Her brain spun with ecstasy as warmth spread throughout her crotch, and in only a moment, she was orgasming. It rippled from Aurora’s tongue and James’ manhood through her sex, up to her hips and abdomen, down through her legs all the way to her toes, waves crashing over her, muscles pulsing and tensing, legs squeezing Arturo’s head, James’ moans of pleasure barely audible among her own wails. Claire felt freed, like a force had taken her out of her own body and filled it up with pure warm light radiating through her. She rested her head on Arturo’s hips, her hair slick with sweat, and stroked him as she came back down to Earth, gasping. As she did, she heard a groan emanate from between her still-quivering thighs and suddenly his hips bucked and muscular thighs contracted with tension. His manhood twitched and pulsed and his seed shot up in bursts like a fountain and rained down on his stomach and legs. Claire felt a drop or two on her flushed face, and smiled.

“¡Sí, Claire, sí! Dios mío! Ah, fuck!” Arturo moaned in a strained voice. “That was increíble!”

A moment later, James tightened his grip on Claire’s hips. His fingers dug into her flesh, hands searching for purchase on her back and thighs and breasts as if he was falling off a cliff and searching for a hold. “Fuck!” He exclaimed in a tight, urgent voice. “Fuck, yes, I’m gonna cum. Oh, God, yes, Claire!” And then she felt him throb inside her, and she knew he was filling her up with two decades of pent-up passion and love that had gone unexpressed in their marriage. In that moment she felt more connected to him than she had in so many years. They were joined physically and emotionally in a union in which she felt renewed faith. She wanted all of him. She wanted his body and mind and soul. And she knew that he wanted her as well, and she knew that their mutual desire was as strong as ever. As he came inside her, she felt filled by his desire just as she felt filled by his manhood. Claire knew that whatever their marriage looked like in the future, this was only the beginning of their devotion to each other.

James moaned as his thrusts came to a sputtering end, and Arturo carefully crawled out from underneath Claire’s torso. She collapsed onto her stomach in exhaustion, and James stepped forward and fell back on to the bed next to them, chest heaving.

The three of them luxuriated in bliss for a moment, breathless and sweaty. Eventually, it was Arturo who spoke first.

“I have never experienced passion like that before. Thank you for bringing me into your lives and allowing me to be part of your love. I feel transformed—I can only hope that I have given you half of what you have given me.”

James smiled. “How do you feel, Claire?”

“Like a new woman,” she admitted.

“That’s all I wanted,” her husband replied. “Claire, you mean the world to me, and all I—all we—wanted was for you to be happy and fulfilled.”

“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you Arturo, for bringing us closer together.”

“You are an incredible woman,” said Arturo, “and you deserve the world, and I hope you never again hesitate to reach out for what it is you want.” He rose from the bed and wiped himself off with a Kleenex. “I have to go now, but know that my time with you was unforgettable. You will live in here—” he pointed to his heart “—en mi corazón—forever.” He looked back at Claire and blew her a kiss, his fierce brown eyes as full of life and energy as she had ever seen them. After putting his clothes back on, he left.

When they were alone, Claire turned over to James and wrapped herself around him like a vine around a tree trunk.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“No,” he said, “I’m sorry. I should never have neglected you, my dear. Never should have left you wanting, never should have left you alone, never should have forgotten you and your needs. Not just here at the resort, but for all those years before. You needed something, anything, and I was not giving it to you. And you could have waited for me with that emptiness inside you, but instead, you went out and got what you needed. I’m proud of you for that. for standing up for yourself and your own fulfillment. It’s my turn as your husband to step up now, and be there for you and your desires. Will you give me a chance to make things right, to provide for you in all the ways I should have been providing already?”

“If course,” said Claire. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” said James. His body was warm and solid underneath hers as they laid on the bed together, and Claire could feel in her bones the start of a new chapter in their marriage. Maybe, she thought, the trip to the resort had been exactly what they needed all along.