Day 6 Friday
In order to get an early start on fishing, I had set an alarm for an ungodly five a.m. I was disoriented. For a couple of minutes, I didn’t know where I was. My first realization was that I smelled pussy, and there was a leg between min and pressing on my crotch. As I usually do the morning after eating Cindy out, I licked my mustache to further activate my favorite aroma. I encountered something crusty. I opened my eyes to the sight of naked Karen sprawled across my body.
I remembered then. Karen had become my vacation wife, and we had fucked like newlyweds before falling asleep. I remembered doing it missionary, doggy, and cowgirl. Of course, it ended with Karen’s favorite kink: she went for a mustache ride and fed me my own come. At least it was only mine that time.
As we guys left for early morning fishing, the ladies were whispering and giggling like schoolgirls. Once the boat was out of earshot of the island, Ken said, “What do you think all of that was about?”
“Beats me. They’re obviously plotting something, and it’s either going to be very bad for us or very good for us. I think the best we can do is spend a couple hours fishing and try to forget about them.”
"I can try, but forgetting about them is going to be tough. I hope you don’t mind me saying this. Your wife is one dynamite fuck.”
“You mean your vacation wife,” I said.
“Yeah, right. My vacation wife.”
“Why would I mind? After all, my vacation wife is certainly no ice cube.”
“She’ll wear you out if you give her half a chance. I should know.”
I put on my shocked face. “Ken, Are you saying you’ve fucked my wife?”
He rolled his eyes. “I surely have. Both of them, in fact. Both your at-home and your vacation wife.”
We arrived at the fishing hole and put our attention into trying to catch dinner. For two hours fishing and the journey back to the island, we traded observations and quips about our shared wives—only going silent a hundred yards offshore.
# # #
As we beached the boat and tied it off, the wives came running down the path toward us wearing grass skirts, party-store leis, but no tops.
They both called to us. “Fishermen, fishermen, what you catch today? Show us what you have for us. You got big fish? Maybe bring us long ones.”
Ken elbowed me in the ribs. “I sure like what they’re bringing us.”
Cindy walked up to Ken and tossed a lei around his neck. “You want get leied? I give flowers if you give big one.” She rose up on her toes and gave him a big kiss while her bare breasts rubbed against his bare chest.
I pulled Karen to me. “Do you have flowers for me? Can I get laid too?”
She answered, “I give you flowers, Mister naughty Fisherman, but you not get laid on the beach where strangers can watch. Come to my village. We have fun.”
Ken grabbed the cooler of fish from the boat, and we followed bouncing boobies and grass skirts that swayed to show succulent naked asses up the path to our camp—I mean their village.
Cindy took the cooler from Ken and put it in the kitchen area. “Old island tradition. We have contest see who clean fish. Fishermens must take off clothes.”
Ken and I were naked quicker than I would have thought possible.
Karen picked up from Cindy. “Village maidens now give fishermens special kisses. Fisherman who squirts first gets duty of cleans.”
With that, the ‘maidens’ each took their vacation husband’s dick in their mouths and gave us tremendous blowjobs. Both women give first-class blowjobs. But, there I was with Karen’s tongue working up and down the sensitive underside of my cock. Her hand jacking its base, her titties bouncing, her mouth very lightly sucking. Meanwhile, my Cindy was on her knees three feet away bobbing on Ken’s member with her boobs bouncing in time. The sight was just as erotic as the sensations. I moaned. Ken moaned. I shuddered, feeling the cum rising into my shaft. Suddenly, Ken screamed. “Oh SHIT!” and blew his load down Cindy’s throat. Ten seconds later, Karen swallowed my cum.
Karen stood and licked her lips. “Fisherman Ken, you clean all today. First fish, then anything that need cleaning.”
Ken looked across Cindy on her knees. “Karen, what do you mean?”
Karen said, “Fisherman Ken clean fish. Fisherman Ken clean after meals. Fisherman Ken clean cummy pussies. Fisherman Ken clean anything need clean.”
“I’m not going to wipe anyone’s butt!”
Breaking character, she replied, “Not unless someone asks you to, Dear. But I don’t think any of us are that kinky. Right?”
The three of us echoed, “Right!” And all laughed.
# # #
While Ken cleaned the fish, Karen sat me in a lounge chair.
“You looky see something.”
She stood in front of me and untied her grass skirt. As it dropped to the ground, I saw neat printing high on the inside of her thighs, almost to her pussy. She lifted her right foot and put it on the arm of my chair. The aroma of aroused woman drifted to my nose as I read the words: “DAVE’S HOME” on one thigh and “AWAY FROM HOME” on the other.
“How did you get a tattoo out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Island girls know henna.” She broke character. “Cindy and I did each other while you guys were fishing. It’ll fade in about a week and be gone in a couple.”
“What does Cindy’s say?”
“I’m really proud of my work there, but I can’t tell you until her vacation husband sees it.”
“Let’s find a nice soft air mattress. I want to visit my ’home away from home'.”
“Sounds like a good idea. It’s hot, wet, and ready for you.” Karen dragged her grass skirt and me into the tent. True to her word, her pussy was hot, wet, and needed no foreplay. She got down on her elbows and knees with her ass and pussy in the air. I kneeled behind her and drove my cock home in one continuous deep thrust. Karen started a rhythmic squeezing of her vagina that forced my orgasm in less than five minutes. I slipped out and lay down next to her.
Dropping back into her island girl accent, she called out, “Oh, Fisherman Ken. Fisherman Ken. Come here. A cummy pussy need you clean it!” Dutifully, Ken slid under Karen so she could sit on his face and feed him my load.
Karen put her grass skirt back on, and we all spent a quiet afternoon attending to camp duties. I must admit that both Ken and I were more than a little distracted by two beautiful topless women in grass skirts. Somehow the tiny glimpses of leg or pussy or ass that the skirts allowed were even more arousing than when our wives (real or vacation) were totally naked.
I found it even more frustrating because I kept trying to see Cindy’s henna tattoo. She knew what I was up to and made sure that I was kept guessing. She wouldn’t let Ken see it either.
# # #
After dinner and after Ken finished the dishes, we were sitting around the campfire with a pitcher of margaritas. Ken and I were naked, and the women were still wearing grass skirts and nothing else.
Ken raised his glass and said. “Okay, I‘ve pretty much been the cleaning slave today. Dave’s been hinting that there’s something special around here that I need to see. The anticipation is driving me nuts. Not to mention that my nuts are feeling pretty lonely. What have I been missing?”
Karen said, “I am pretty proud of it. Everybody, should we show him?”
To keep the mystery going, Cindy said, “I don’t know. After all, you are Dave’s vacation wife. Would that be cheating?”
“I can handle it,” I said.
Karen stood up and reached to untie her grass skirt. Then said, “No, I can’t. Cindy, you should go first.”
“If you insist.” Cindy stood up, faced Ken, and dropped her skirt. “Ken, my darling vacation husband, I had Karen do this special for you.”
Cindy dropped her grass skirt; Ken sat open-mouthed and finally said, “Wow! That is so special.”
I said, “Turn around. Karen has been teasing me all afternoon and refused to tell me what she did for you.”
Karen shushed me and said, ”You’re going to wait a little longer. First, Ken gets to see mine. Since he had to wait longer, he gets to see us both before you do.” She untied her skirt and stood facing her at-home-husband, lifted one leg putting her foot on a camp stool.
Ken looked her over and read her thighs. “Dave’s Home Away From Home. You ladies were busy this morning, weren’t you?”
“Please, ladies. What did you do to Cindy?”
Cindy turned and walked to me. “This is my vacation souvenir. What do you think?”
Her untidy brown bush had been trimmed and shaped into an arrow pointing to the cleft between her legs with a henna tattoo above the arrow proclaiming “KEN’S PUSSY.” On either side where thigh met body was “FUCK” and “ME!”
“Well, Dave, I know you have already visited your home away from home. I think it’s time for me to acknowledge the wonderful invitation from my vacation wife to fuck my pussy.”
Cindy took his hand and led him to the tent. Moments later, the sounds left no doubt as to what they were doing. Karen kneeled in front of me and took my cock into her incredible mouth. I’d be hard-pressed to guess what she liked best, sucking cock, fucking, or getting eaten. But then she seems pretty happy doing all three in that order.
After a terrific blow job just short of making me cum, we retired to the tent and finished with the other two.
