Part 1: Quickie Upon Arrival...
Jared and Stacy had decided to celebrate their third anniversary in San Diego. They got a nice room in a hotel on the beach.
After three years of marriage, Stacy and Jared were in a very good place. Jared had learned to read Stacy's moods perfectly. He had learned the ins and outs of his wife's sex drive. She wasn't a slut and she wasn't a nymphomaniac. Over time he came to realize and accept that days could easily go by without any thought of sex crossing her mind. When her mind was on other things, she simply wasn't interested. She never denied her husband her body but when she wasn't herself in the mood, the love-making was perfunctory and quickly became unsatisfactory for Jared.
The difference between an eager and horny Stacy and a Stacy that was letting her man screw her to make him happy was like night and day. Fucking Stacy while her mind was on other things was just not a lot of fun and unfortunately, the very focused nature of Stacy's personality made it practically impossible to change her mood.
So, Jared had learned to wait for Stacy to get in the mood herself. One thing he had yet to figure out was what exactly it was that would get her started. Many a week, a couple days would go by without a single saucy look or wiggle from his wife. Then some random day would roll around and without any explanation, Stacy would come home from work hotter than a firecracker. On such nights, dinner would often be completely forgotten as she screwed his brains out in every room in the house. Jared's wife was an off or on kind of lady and given the sheer power of her appetite when it was on, Jared had half-unconsciously decided not to bother when it was off.
Fortunately, their little second honeymoon was guaranteed to keep her switched on.
They checked into the hotel and made their way to their room. Jared noticed that his wife seemed very serene, surprising after the flight and the usual hassles at the airport.
The moment after they entered the room, she opened a suitcase and dug out Jared's swim trunks. Without a word, she handed them to him and pointed towards the bathroom. Stacy's trademark lock of hair was dangling in front of her right eye. Her face was still calm, hinting at nothing she might be thinking. From long habit, his eyes unabashedly dropped to check out her breasts. The bra and comfortable shirt she had worn for the flight didn't reveal much. When his eyes returned to her face he thought he caught a hint of a smirk but otherwise, she didn't react. She brushed the lock of hair back and gestured toward the bathroom again. Grinning and shaking his head, he did as he was told.
Jared changed quickly in the bathroom and bundled his traveling clothes into a ball and stuffed them under his arm. He checked himself in the mirror, frowning slightly. He was pale and had a hint of a paunch. Or maybe more than a hint. He squared his shoulder. Well, he thought, my pecs and shoulders aren't too bad. Shaking his head at himself, he pushed his insecurities from his mind and counted his blessings. His one soft, feminine and ever so sexy blessing. Stacy loved him and that was all that mattered.
He opened the door and exited the bathroom. As his eyes adjusted to the darker hotel room, he saw his wife silhouetted against the glass balcony door that looked down on the beach.
Stacy was naked, legs spread slightly and arms wide over her head, pressed against the glass.
Jared drew in his breath through his teeth, hissing. His clothes dropped to the floor, forgotten. One part of his mind commented that she must have undressed very quickly and assumed the position immediately. Another part started gibbering that everyone on the beach could see her. The first voice pointed out that the bright sun and the tinted windows made that unlikely.
Fortunately, neither inner voice could really be heard over the roar of Jared's beating heart. In public, Stacy always seemed reserved and a bit mousy or sometimes direct and business-like. And during their frolics in the bedroom, she was such a bundle of energy that Jared hardly had a chance to get a good look at her sometimes. But as he stared at his wife's silhouette, he was struck dumb by her beauty.
Her legs were not the long stems of a model... they were sensibly proportioned, well-fleshed limbs he knew could act as a powerful vise. The sweeping flare of her hips was neither exaggerated nor too subtle... it was just there quietly making a sensuous, feminine statement. As his eyes adjusted he could start making out some detail within the shadow. Her ass hovered blandly between tight and plump but the skin was flawless. As he stared, she shifted her weight slightly and he saw muscle play beneath the flesh and recalled the many times he had felt that butt squirm under his hands.
His gaze continued upwards, noting the definition in her back. Again, it wasn't dramatic, just enough to show that there was a dynamic living being behind that flawless skin.
As his sweeping eyes reached her shoulders and head, he noticed that her face was turned to the side and that she could just see him out of the corner of one eye. Again, that eye was peering out from behind her bangs. As his gaze made contact with her's, she gracefully swung her body around to face him.
She leaned back against the glass, arms now spread out like wings, the hands poised in an elegant droop. She kept her face turned to the side, inviting his gaze.
God those tits. Jared had always been a breast man. Breast, face and hair; those were the big draws for him. He could appreciate nice legs and a well-toned ass but it was the upper half of a woman's body that had always drawn him. And his wife's tits were just...
For a lot of his life, Jared had been drawn to big tits. He supposed that was true of most males. But it eventually dawned on him that big tits were great mainly because you could see them on the street. Big tits were overtly sexy. Big tits were loud. Big tits were like billboards.
Stacy's perfectly shaped B-cup mounds were more like the Mona Lisa. You wouldn't look twice at Stacy if you passed her on the street but on the street wasn't where breasts were meant to be worshipped. In the bedroom, they were the stuff to inspire entire religions.
The upper part of her breasts were a smooth even slope of unbroken white perfection. They rose to a swell and then curved dramatically inward, giving each tit clear definition and weight. They were capped by her soft pink nipples. As was so often the case while they were subjected to his gaze, they were puffed up dramatically, engorged with lust, each areola a perfect half-circle dome surmounting the flesh of her breast. The nipples themselves were curled in tightly on themselves, hard with passion and sticking out just a little further still.
Jared literally lost track of time. Eventually, Stacy shifted her weight, her firm breasts barely moving. She had yet to say a word. Jared worked his mouth and blinked his eyes a couple times. He attempted to finish his survey. His eyes slid down along her belly, taking in the hint of softness and the deep shadow of her navel. As he reached the ginger-colored nest at her loins, Stacy moved again. She giggled softly and slowly drew one leg up, bending her knee and crossing it against her other leg, effectively hiding her sex.
Jared's eyes came up and he saw that she had turned her face to meet his gaze. She paused motionless for a few more seconds and then casually pushed herself away from the glass door. Jared's pulse continued to pound in his ears as she seemed to float across the room toward him. She detoured to the dresser where she had somehow had time to set out some of their things and picked up the bottle of sunblock. She drifted over to him, stopping as her breasts came within a hair's breadth of his chest. Jared and Stacey were nearly identical in height... she was often taller in shoes. She let her eyes slide by his without meeting his gaze and leaned over slightly next to his cheek. She still had not touched him. She said in a soft, almost ordinary sounding voice, "Jared honey, could you help with the lotion? I don't want to burn."
She didn't wait for a response. She handed him the bottle, which he took dumbly, and turned away to sway over to the bed where Jared saw she had spread one of their beach towels. That dumb little voice in the back of his head made a comment about how well she had planned this out and said something to the effect that "Of course Stacy would never want to get oil on a bedspread, even at a hotel" but it was still being drowned out by smoldering passion.
Stacy laid herself down across the towel on her stomach. She murmured "Don't forget my feet" and then seemed to drift off to sleep.
Holy Shit! His wife had never acted like this before. It had always either been "not interested" or "jump his bones and then do it again". This... this was like playing out some fantasy. And Jared knew immediately that that is what she was doing. She was playing. About sex. This was completely new for his wife and Jared was blown away. Stacy's playfulness had always been a lot like her sex drive... either she was feeling playful or she just wanted to get on with whatever she was doing. It had never really occurred to Jared what would happen if the two were combined.
Hell, in a way it was a good thing she wasn't normally like this... Jared would have blown every blood vessel in his body long ago.
Jared tried mightily to regain his composure but even so, his hands trembled as he tried to deposit some of the lotion into his palm. He managed to make it over to the bed without tripping or getting lost and knelt on it beside her. Gingerly, hesitantly, he spread the lotion across her shoulders and down her back. He worked it into her alabaster skin, kneading gently as he went. He paused to add more lotion, using the bottle to draw a line down her spine. Stacey shifted slightly and Jared felt a tremble through the bed. Goose-bumps chased each other across her back.
... Goose-bumps. Unbidden, a vision of just how perfect his wife's breasts looked with her nipples erect and goose-pimples standing at attention across their slopes. Even an imaginary mental image of his wife's breasts could take his breath away.
Again blinking and shaking his head, Jared lifted one leg and straddled his wife's thighs just below her little butt. He made short work of the lotion he had deposited on her back, spat more out onto one palm and rubbed his hands together. Considering for a moment, he smiled slightly and brought both hands down on her globes with a forceful slap.
Stacy murmured sleepily, "Having fun?" Jared wasn't fooled. Yes, she was playing. He could feel the tension in her body, the little shudders she couldn't suppress. He gave her a ton of credit for self-control; he hadn't known she had it in her.
He worked the lotion into her cheeks, ensuring that every inch was covered and shamelessly digging into the valley between. He began playing a game of his own, teasing, moving towards her sex as he rubbed oil into her thighs but always pulling back before making contact. He smiled as the tension and trembling in her body grew. Once or twice, barely audible cries of frustration escaped his bride's lips.
Finally, he changed the patterns of his movement and seemed ready to start work on her pussy. But again, he stopped short. Jared suppressed a chuckle as he saw her hands bunch into fists and her legs squirm briefly beneath him. "You know, you're right," he said. "I don't want to forget your feet." He lifted himself away from her body and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. However, he didn't linger there long... he quickly rubbed the oil into her feet and calves and when he finished he sweetly said, "Stacey, honey, I'm done with this side. Do you want to turn over?"