Sarah's Cuban Vacation Ch. 05

WARNING: I could have fit this story in a few different categories, but left it with the rest of the series here in Exhibitionist and Voyeur.

If the idea of a married couple exploring a mfm threesome turns you off, maybe give this one a pass (to this day, I'm still not even sure if this would be considered a threesome... but the warning stands).

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On our final full day at the Cuban all-inclusive resort, I awoke to voices. My head eventually fought its way through the morning fog to recognize that they belonged to my wife Sarah and her sister Jo, who were discussing yesterday's events.

Jo had come back to the room early due to overindulgence of alcohol, and by the sound of it she had some memory gaps, which was fine by me.

After a week of being cock blocked because we shared a room with Jo that had three single beds, last night's events at our neighbour Marcel's had left my wife Sarah and I to deal with some pent-up sexual napalm.

When we returned to the room to find Jo still passed out, we exploited the opportunity to have an impromptu bedroom rodeo. While we were mid-coitus, Jo sat up in her bed and looked toward us. There was no focus in her eyes, and she didn't make any moves to conceal her nudity as the bed sheets pooled loosely around her waist. The sounds of our passion had disturbed her sleep, but she hadn't risen to full consciousness. I was getting close, so I didn't dare break rhythm and then Sarah started to lift off the bed to meet my thrusts. After a few seconds Jo laid back down and at that point Sarah and I had erupted in simultaneous orgasms.

"Look who's finally awake." Sarah stated, interrupting my reverie. She propped herself up on one elbow and turned to look at me from her bed 6-feet away. "Were you still planning to make a coffee run this morning?"

I cautiously lifted the corner of my bed sheet to confirm what I already suspected. "I'm still naked. After you ladies go out on the patio, I'll grab some shorts and head out."

Jo began to get up, then shrieked and slumped under the covers once again. "I can't go anywhere, I'm naked too!"

"Am I the only one here who doesn't require alcohol to be comfortable in her own skin?" Sarah asked as she crawled out of bed and shamelessly did a full body stretch.

"You do realize that everyone in our little group saw your tits yesterday, right?" Sarah continued.

"Ugh!" Was Jo's regretful reply. "It's slowly coming back to me."

It was also true that Jo had showered in front of me, and we had found her sleeping spread-eagled on top of the covers a couple of times, but apparently Sarah had decided to be gentle while she slowly revealed the details of Jo's blackout day.

"I'll go grab the coffee." Sarah announced as she pulled on a pair of shorts. "That'll give you two some time to figure out a way to end your nude standoff."

Sarah next chose a tank top, but a persistent knocking on the door interrupted her before putting it on.

"Sarah!" called out Marcel from beyond the door.

She smiled, then winked at me before making an exaggerated sashay toward the entrance, the tank-top still clutched in her left hand. When she opened the door, she was only mildly surprised to see Ricky standing beside Marcel. She leaned against the door frame doing nothing to hide the DD rockets that sat proudly on her chest. It was then that she recognized the panicked look on both men's faces.

"There's something wrong with Denis." Marcel explained rapidly. "Bart and Ti-Jean can't get him out of bed."

Sarah ran to her suitcase and grabbed her medical bag. As a member of the health-care community, she carried more than a typical first-aid kit on vacation including a stethoscope and blood-pressure cuff.

She quickly disappeared into the hallway behind the two men with a look of concern plastered across her face, the travel kit dangling from one hand and her shirt still clutched tightly in the other. I was pretty sure that once Sarah started descending the staircase at the end of the hallway, simple physics would remind her of the forgotten garment.

Our door had been left partially ajar so 'the nude standoff' had to end soon. After a quick look toward Jo, I finally relented, and got up to pad across the room and secure the door. When I turned, Jo was focused on my midsection.

"I'm not sure what 'that's' about, but I figure that I should remind you that you're married to my sister." Jo stated matter-of-factly.

I looked down and chuckled. "That's 'morning wood' and it has nothing to do with you... ya perv."

I got dressed, then grabbed Sarah's thermos and headed out the door. I wasn't in a particular rush to get to building 7 since I have no training and would likely just be in the way. However, I figured at some point everyone involved would appreciate their morning coffee, so I headed for the lobby.

When I finally arrived at Denis' room, I found that Jo had managed to beat me there. She was now helping Bart pack Denis' belongings into his suitcase so that he'd be able to catch his flight home.

Denis was in the washroom doing a lot of moaning and groaning, while the rest of our crew was huddled in a discussion on the patio outside. The arrival of coffee was a welcome distraction.

"Is everyone ok with me staying dressed for the coffee delivery?" I inquired sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to screw this up."

"Please do." replied Ti-Jean while partially shielding his eyes.

"Now hold on." Marcel interrupted, holding his hands like a traffic cop. "Need I remind everybody that I'm still owed one more delivery tomorrow? We don't want to set a nasty precedent."

"Duly noted." interrupted Sarah. "This won't affect precedent."

After everyone had poured a cup of java, Sarah brought me up to speed.

"Step one was to confirm that his life wasn't in danger." she began. "Now we're just trying to get him comfortable enough to fly."

"What's wrong with him?" I asked with genuine concern as the moaning persisted.

"I'm not sure." she confessed. "Could be food poisoning or a virus. Could be IBS, colitis, or Crohn's. What I do know is that he's going to endure the longest, most uncomfortable travel day of his life."

The toilet suddenly flushed, and a pale sweaty Denis emerged. He walked hunched over obviously experiencing severe cramps, then laid on the bed and curled into the fetal position.

"I'd kill for a coffee, Brian." he mumbled.

"Water." Sarah suggested holding a hand up to stop me. "You're going to be sharing a couple of washrooms with 300 strangers on the plane Denis. Avoid coffee. Avoid grease. Avoid anything spicy. And no alcohol."

"Those are the four staples of my diet." he complained sadly. "This really does sound like it will be the longest day of my life."

Sarah and I made brief eye contact, but she decided to wait until we were alone later to voice her suspicion that these rules might be the building blocks to the rest of Denis' life.

Ricky and Ti-Jean went back to their rooms to grab their belongings while we helped Denis tote his bags to the lobby.

When their bus finally arrived, Denis was at the front of the queue to get a seat and endure the ride to the airport. While Marcel waited for the driver to stow Denis' bags under the bus, Sarah took Ti-Jean and Ricky aside.

"If he's still feeling like that when you land in Montreal, take him straight to the hospital." she advised, before adding, "But even if he's feeling better, encourage him to make a doctor's appointment."

She gave Ti-Jean a hug before turning to Ricky.

"I thought we were building some momentum with your coffee deliveries." he said with a smirk. "I was counting on today being a very big day."

Sarah had expected Ricky to bring this up. She nodded noncommittally.

"Since the disruption this morning interfered with what we were building toward, I request a do over." he added, thrusting his hand out so that they could shake on the deal.

"Deal!" she replied as she shook his hand. "Just so we're on the same page, this is anal we're talking about, correct?"

There was something too enthusiastic in the way Sarah agreed to his terms that caused Ricky to realize that he had just walked a trap.

"This isn't us we're talking about, is it?" he asked dejectedly.

"Of course not." she admitted. "Denis is responsible for the delay, so he's the guy that owes you something. But I would probably wait until he's feeling better... neither of you would probably enjoy anal in his condition."

Ricky just shook his head in defeat, they exchanged a hug, then he climbed aboard the bus.

We continued to wave until the bus receded into the distance, our little group now reduced to five members. We did breakfast before meeting at the pool to enjoy some sun and booze as we awaited the arrival of Bart's wife, who was coming to spend the next week with him.

When Sophie finally arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. The Quebec guys were all 43-year-old high school buddies, but Bart looked and acted 10 years older than his friends. All week they had taken to referring to him as 'Padre' since he acted like the dad of the group. So, I naturally assumed Sophie would be the mom of the group. Was I ever wrong.

For any Canadian readers I could likely say "she's the prototypical Montreal cougar" and that description would be enough. It's not that she looks 20-years younger (she looked every bit of 43) it's that she looks damn fine wearing those years.

She would look at home walking the red carpet with an aging action star or outside the United Nations on the arm of a world leader. She could wear diamond earrings and a pearl necklace with a business suit or a bikini without either combination seeming to be out of place. Stunning elegance.

Upon getting off the bus she immediately hugged Bart while whispering, "Tu m'as manqué mon amour."

"Ma chérie." he replied softly. Bart would never utter her name in our presence, opting for 'ma chérie' or simply 'cher.'

Next Sophie turned her focus to Marcel, also pulling him into an embrace. "You look good with a little tan Marcie." she complimented, using a nickname none of his buddies had. She spoke in accent free English, which I must confess disappointed me a little.

"This is Jo." Bart said, making the introduction while the hugs continued.

"If she's Jo, that would make you Sarah." Sophie stated when she turned to pull my wife into a hug. "I've heard a lot about you dear."

While still in the embrace, Sarah looked at Bart over his wife's shoulder with a raised eyebrow questioning just how extensive their information transfer had been. Bart hadn't witnessed most of her wildest hijinks, but he had definitely heard firsthand accounts by now.

Marcel gave his buddy a playful punch in the shoulder as a way of letting him know that he had fucked up. This was noticed by Sophie.

"Marcie, you know that Bart and I tell each other everything." she gently scolded, before playfully adding, "Besides, he'd be crazy to trust any secrets to you guys. We all know that it only takes a couple of drinks to get Denis, Ricky, and Ti-Jean to spill more tea than a knitting circle.

"And you must be Brian." she said as I received the final hug. Until this moment I had been rendered awestruck by her natural beauty, but there was nothing natural about the c-cups that were caught between our bodies yet resisted deformation. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Bart helped his wife bring her bags to their room while we waited poolside. After around 45-minutes they returned, and we set out on our adventure.

Earlier in the week I had discovered a semi-abandoned resort farther down the beach that locals refer to as 'the ghost resort.' Although it's no longer opened for guests, the lobby, bar, and pool patio areas are in good enough shape to be used a couple of days a week for new resort workers to practice their craft before seeing actual tourists. We intended to do a little exploring.

Upon arrival we were faced with our first obstacle. The lack of pedestrian traffic between the resort and the beach had resulted in an infestation of spiky bracts similar to burdocks, but with beefier spines. Luckily, we were all carrying flip-flops which we now donned.

The first buildings we reached were the guest rooms which were locked. We weren't here to break into anything, and standard motel rooms aren't all that interesting anyway. Our only curiosity being whether they had emptied the rooms or left the furniture to rot. The presence of drapes on all the windows and patio furniture on the balconies tended to infer the latter scenario. We moved on.

The pool areas also still retained patio furniture, stacked in neat piles, likely used as part of the training sessions that occurred here. We didn't linger in this area due to the odour of the brackish water in the partially filled pool.

We made a similarly brief visit to the buffet restaurant. There was sand on the floor most likely brought in by flooding, while the receding waters had pulled all the tables and chairs into a tangled mess near the entry. Signs of extensive mold growth hurried us along.

Our final stop was in the lobby area. All the furniture had been removed from this open-air portion of the building. Even the sign declaring the resort name was gone, leaving behind a few bare metal anchors, although the strong Caribbean sun had long since bleached the shadows of the letters onto the wall, allowing us to continue to read them.

"Look at this." said Marcel with a touch of awe in his voice. "They removed the staircase used to reach the upper portion."

"I'm not sure 'they' removed it." Bart replied as he studied the empty stairwell. "This was cast in-place concrete. They wouldn't remove those unless they were tearing it all down."

"The storm?" asked Jo.

"I don't know..." Bart slowly answered, his voice drenched in skepticism. "This was a heavy-duty piece of structure... meanwhile the wood and tile reception desk is intact just over there?"

"We came here to explore." Sarah interrupted. "Let's go upstairs and see what secrets are hiding up there."

The rest of the group exchanged shrugs before nodding in agreement.

The missing staircase would be challenging, but it wasn't an insurmountable obstacle. First up was Marcel, who walked into the empty stairwell. Bart and I boosted him high enough to gain a grip, then he pulled himself the rest of the way to the second level.

Next up was Sarah. Again, Bart and I gave her a lift until she could reach Marcel's outstretched hand, then he hoisted her the rest of the way.

Third up was Jo, but when she offered her foot for the expected heave upwards, we noticed that her flip-flop was covered with the burdock-like tufts.

"Those spikes must be some tough to stick into your soles." stated Bart as he walked into the office that was directly opposite the stairwell. "I found a straightedge. Come here and I'll brush them off."

As Jo disappeared into the office to join Bart, movement caught the corner of my eye as I noticed two men approaching our position, pushing a wheelbarrow partially filled with scrap. I couldn't tell if they were employees of the resort or vandals, but I didn't figure it made sense to announce our presence in either scenario.

I hissed out a low warning, "We got company" before grabbing Sophie's hand and leading her to crouch behind the reception desk.

The sound of the wheelbarrow continued through the lobby to the coffee bar where it quieted. Shortly after the sound of a hacksaw announced that they were removing plumbing fixtures. Whether here on official business or not, the recyclers did more talking than working as we realized that we might have to settle in for the long haul.

With two of us trapped in the office and two more cornered at reception, the only people with any modicum of freedom were Sarah and Marcel who were upstairs. While we could see them from our hiding spot, they weren't visible from the scrap men's vantage point.

Sarah and Marcel began teasing us over our predicament, miming being trapped in a box and exaggeratedly tapping their wrists to signify that we were holding them up. With boredom beginning to settle in, Sarah decided to change the mood by untying her bikini top but holding it against her chest.

Although we couldn't see into the office, I assumed that Bart and Jo had a similar view to ours. Sarah looked down at us with an expression full of mischief, then slowly revealed her breasts before tossing her top down to me, a move which luckily went unnoticed by the scrappers.

She turned toward Marcel and bent her elbow so they could link arms, winked down at us, then they walked off, presumably to explore the upstairs while we continued to be pinned down.

"She really does have spectacular tits." Sophie whispered. "Does it bother you that she's topless and alone with Marcie?"

"It wouldn't be the first time this week." I admitted, confident that Bart had shared these details with her already. "I trust her though, if that's what you're asking."

"You have nothing to worry about." she agreed. "After I got my boobs done, Bart let me show them to Marcie and he was a complete gentleman."

My face must have showed some shock because she returned a questioning look. I decided to elaborate, "I didn't think women admitted to having work done."

"Boys brag about their cars or their new golf clubs." she said with a laugh as she gripped her tits and gave them a shake. "After living my entire life without a chest, I'm damn proud of my new accessories."

"Did any of the other guys see them?" I asked, genuinely curious now.

"Oh gawd no." she said a little too loudly before lowering her voice again. "Ti-Jean's wife is my best friend. I wouldn't do that to her. Denis... I wouldn't be able to trust him to be discreet. And... well you've met Ricky."

I nodded my head in understanding, but she chose to elaborate regardless, "If he saw them, he'd want to touch them. If he touched them, then he'd want to kiss them. If he kissed them, then he'd want to fuck them. He's incorrigible."

With nothing really to add to that, I offered her a high-five which she accepted, touching hands as quietly as possible.

"What about you?" she inquired. "Have you ever seen fake titties before?"

I glanced down, then returned to looking her in the eyes. "I can see them, so they can't be 'fake' titties."

After an exaggerated eye roll to make light at my attempt at a dad joke, she clarified, "Have you ever seen surgically enhanced boobs."

"Not that I'm aware of." I answered truthfully. "But I've never asked for authentication papers before either."

"Would Sarah be mad if I showed you mine?" Sophie asked.

"She wouldn't expect me to claw my eyes out to avoid seeing them." I offered, before adding, "She might even appreciate a viewing herself... for scientific purposes."

We held eye contact as Sophie slowly worked her bikini top to the sides and released her medical miracles. After a moment of hesitation, I was the first to glance away, in search of her freshly exposed treasures.

They were teardrop shaped c-cups that seemed to be sized appropriately for her slight frame. At the focal point of each was a pink, cone-shaped nipple that resembled a thimble or perhaps a small strawberry. I'd seen photos of similar specimens, but this was my first personal encounter. She did have areolas, but they were only slightly larger than their centerpiece.

I was nodding my head slowly in appreciation of this gift when her abrupt statement caught me off guard.

"We paid extra for the implants that feel natural to the touch."

My focus immediately snapped back to her face as I searched for the meaning behind those words. I didn't want to overstep my bounds, especially coming so soon after her ridiculing how Ricky would potentially try to escalate a similar situation. But this was certainly an invitation... wasn't it? If not, it was definitely 'heavily flirtatious'.

After a playful pause, Sophie winked and looked down. I took this as permission and gently cupped both globes. My main takeaway was that thimble-like nipples are perfectly shaped for palming.

After allowing me to briefly cop a feel, Sophie slid her bikini top back into place.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Well, what?" I deadpanned.

"Don't they feel real?" she clarified.

"I was just living in the moment as I handled a pair of titties." I shrugged, trying to give her a look of total innocence. "I didn't realize that I'd have to write a thousand-word essay on my experience."

Sophie playfully flipped me off.

Meanwhile upstairs, our explorers continued to stroll arm in arm, with Sarah holding Marcel close enough that her right boob was in constant contact with his left arm.

The second floor had been mostly used as a retail area with various gift and cigar shops around the interior courtyard. Sarah presumed that most of the salvageable merchandise had been removed, but the mostly empty clothing racks still contained a few moldy Che Guevara t-shirts, and the floor was littered with hundreds of bent postcards.

They investigated a cigar shop but found nothing but a few rolls of cash register tape and a magic marker which Marcel grabbed.

"Would you put your tits on the glass for old-time's sake?" he asked, referring to the first morning when she did that to his patio door.

She did as he asked, while he stood on the opposite side of the door tracing them. Then he wrote: "To all future explorers, perfection exists."

"Aw, aren't you sweet." Sarah remarked, batting her eyelashes as she held her hand out for the marker. Next, she reached into Marcel's shorts to grab his semi-hard cock.

"Up against the glass please." she instructed while gently coaxing it to full attention.

She stayed on the same side of the door as Marcel, holding his member while she traced it. When she was done, she held it at arm's length as she filled in details like the artist that she was.

Finally, she drew an arrow from the drawing of her boobs to the drawing of his penis and wrote: "Those resulted in this."

Just then they heard the wheelbarrow begin to move again on the first floor. Marcel pulled his shorts up, they once again linked arms and raced back to the stairwell.

Behind the reception desk I was preparing to take a peek around the corner to gauge which direction the scrap men were heading in when I noticed Bart already had his head sticking out of the office doorway. He held up a finger to instruct us to wait. Finally, as the noise faded into the distance, he gave us the thumbs up and we emerged from cover.

"I didn't think they were ever going to leave." Jo announced.

"Is everything alright, Cher?" Bart asked his wife as he tried read her face.

"Ya, I'm fine." she replied. I hoped that she would stop there, but she whimsically punched me in the arm and added, "I showed this asshole my new boobs and he says he has no opinion."

"Those are new?" asked Jo.

"Ya, what do you think?" Sophie replied as she freed them once again.

"They're spectacular." Jo declared, before turning to me. "You really don't like them?"

"I didn't say that I didn't like them." I replied, giving a defensive shrug toward Bart.

"You don't like what?" asked Sarah as she and Marcel reappeared at the opening of the stairwell. When she noticed Sophie's exposure, she exclaimed, "Those are gorgeous!"

"Not according to your husband." Jo said laughing as she tried to add to my awkwardness.

Ironically it was my wife who came to my rescue. "I don't believe that. Brian always says, 'all boobs are beautiful.'"

"When faced with the available evidence..." Marcel said, looking back and forth between the two topless women. "I'd have to agree."

"Did you find anything up there worth us trying to climb again?" Bart interrupted, getting us back on task.

Sarah exchanged a panicked look with Marcel, before he recovered enough to mumble, "Not really. They stripped it clean before removing the stairs."

With our desire to explore abandoned structures now sated, we helped them down from their elevated perch. I handed Sarah the bikini top that she had earlier tossed to me, but she didn't immediately put it on.

We returned to the beach, then headed off in the direction of our resort with Sarah's unrestrained tits drawing plenty of admiring glances from people walking in the opposite direction.

Around midway back we came across a heart drawn in the sand. In the middle of the heart was written "Cuba" with the year denoted below. We had created similar artwork on previous trips, to photograph as a placemarker in albums of our vacation.

Sarah stopped to snap a picture of it, then suggested that we also pose for a group photo around it. An elderly man with a Scottish accent stopped and offered to take the photo for us and was rewarded by Sarah squeezing up beside him to show him how to work her phone.

"Is anyone going to join me and take their top off?" Sarah inquired of the group, although the 3 men had been shirtless all day.

"Not a chance in hell." Jo was quick to respond.

"That's up to Bart." Sophie said, then turned to look directly at her husband. "Just be aware that between you, me, and Marcie, one of us will eventually get drunk enough to share this with your boys. Do you really want Ricky to see my tits?"

This was the second time in the last half hour that she had mentioned the possibility of Ricky seeing her tits, and I was beginning to believe that despite her repeatedly framing the scenario in the negative, that she really did want this to happen.

"Vas-y, Cher." Bart replied, giving his permission. She immediately removed the bikini top and hung it on the photographer's shoulder like Sarah had.

Sarah remained beside the photographer as she staged the shot. She got Jo and Bart to lie on their sides around the top of the heart, their heads propped up on their elbows. Their faces were close together and with only a slight turn they could have looked at each other, making the pose intimate. It was surprising that Sarah hadn't chosen one of the married couples for this position.

Marcel and I were positioned on either side of the heart, lying on our backs.

Sophie was positioned so her feet would be pointing to the bottom of the heart. This left her head to rest on my legs, just above my knees. She put her hands behind her head leaving her elbows jutting out to either side. Her left elbow just happened to rest directly on top of my cock.

We both felt my manhood begin to snap to attention, and she made a big show of repositioning, so her elbow grazed my junk several times. My arousal would be revealed when we eventually broke the pose, but at least her arm was going to hide the evidence in the photo.

Finally, Sarah took a mirror position opposite of Sophie's, with her right elbow resting near Marcel's midsection. Once again, she repositioned multiple times and I was well aware of what Marcel was now experiencing.

Finally satisfied, Sarah nodded to the photographer, who asked us all to "Say cheese!" and then he snapped the photo. We did a few variations ranging from smiling to clowning for the camera.

Upon completion, Sarah and Sophie got up to thank the camera man and retrieve their tops. Marcel and I each turned away from the group as we stood, trying, and failing to surreptitiously make adjustments that would make our erections less visible. Bart and Jo looked first at us, then each other as they shook the heads in mock disapproval.

We walked back to our resort with two of our ladies remaining topless. When we arrived, we found a few available lounge chairs and spent the remainder of the afternoon on the beach.

As afternoon began to slip into evening, Jo, Sophie, Bart, and Marcel all decided to return to their rooms to get ready for supper.

Meanwhile, Sarah and I decided to follow our Cuba ritual of being the last tourists to leave the beach on our final day in paradise. As the sun lowered toward the horizon, it became apparent that a few stragglers were going to push us until sunset.

Sarah came over to my lounger and sat between my legs, then reclined so her back was again my chest. Despite us having long since donned t-shirts, I covered us up with my beach towel to share our warmth against the approaching dusk.

I shared the story of my adventures with Sophie hiding behind the reception desk and she shared every detail of her upstairs hijinks with Marcel.

"All in all, a good week?" Sarah asked as she continued to gaze toward the horizon.

"It's been great." I replied, before confessing, "But we shouldn't share our room on vacation again. With all the sexual tension that developed this week it was hell not having a release at the end of every day."

"I totally agree." she replied with a sigh. "Last night was a much-needed discharge so I didn't blow a pressure relief valve."

"Hey! You did get relief earlier in the week." I reminded her, adding a laugh, although I was confident that my erection sticking into her lower back already indicated to her that the comment wasn't meant in an accusatory way.

"Any regrets?" she inquired, turning her head so she could look up into my eyes.

"None..." I began to say, then reconsidered. "Actually, I regret Sophie only arrived today. The way you each feed off the other's energy, I can't begin to imagine the trouble you two would have gotten into."

"Yes, I instantly liked her too." Sarah agreed.

"What about you?" I asked while cupping her boobs over the towel and snuggling in closer with her. "Any regrets?"

Her hesitation told me that there was definitely something on her mind. When she put her hands over mine and began to grind them into her chest, I realized that a major revelation was imminent.

"You remember when we confessed our kinks to each other and created our sexual bucket lists?" she finally spoke. "We've checked a lot of items off that list, some more than once."

I knew there was more, so I stayed silent while I gently massaged her tits and waited for her to continue.

"There is only one thing that has remained on there from the start." she said, speaking low to prevent being overheard by the other three people still on the beach. Her voice briefly went raspy as she finished, "He would have been perfect for it."

Without another word I knew the 'what' and the 'who' she was speaking of. At no point did I feel threatened by this revelation for three main reasons.

First, we treated Cuba as a sort of 'Fantasy Island' where we allowed each other to check items off our bucket list guilt-free without the danger of running into people we know.

Secondly, we were leaving for the airport before breakfast the following morning, so the clock had sadly run out for sexy-time shenanigans this trip.

And lastly, her final bucketlist item required two penises, so I would have been a participant anyway.

Despite sunset still being 15-minutes away, Sarah announced, "I'm ready to head back to the room. Maybe we can fit in a quickie while Jo's at supper."

We left the beach and followed the boardwalk toward building 2. We split up as we passed the lobby, her heading back to the room to get ready for me while I stopped to get us a few drinks to bring back to the room.

The room was deserted when I arrived, so I continued outside with our beverages. I found the balcony to be likewise empty other than a discarded bikini. Suddenly Marcel exited his patio door carrying a rum and coke.

"Hey Brian." he greeted me warmly. "Sarah's just in my room grabbing a quick shower to get rid of the beach sand."

I nodded. The showers at this resort were basically a faucet mounted in the ceiling above a floor drain, in the area between the bathroom and the sleeping quarters. There was no expectation of privacy with this setup, so I realized that he had likely been watching her getting cleaned up as he waited for me to return. It wasn't the first time this week she had showered in his presence.

"She wanted me to chat to you about her bucketlist." he proceeded tentatively. "If you're not comfortable with this, I'll walk out right now, and no explanations are required. But if you're ok with it, I'm willing to discreetly help you check that box for her. Either way, it's your call."

"Where are the others?" I asked, gathering information to make a decision while simultaneously delaying making one.

"Tonight, a Michael Jackson impersonator is performing at the theater." he said. "I'm not a fan of lip syncing so that's how I ended up back here. The rest of the crew are looking forward to it though."

I ran through the timeline and realized we wouldn't be rushed, and we could do this properly. Plus, since this had been such a stubborn resident of Sarah's bucketlist, I'm sure she had wondered if it would ever be realized.

Que sera, Sarah.

"Let's do this." I announced.

'So... what now?" Marcel wondered aloud.

"This will be Sarah's show." I replied. "Take a seat, finish your drink, and we'll just follow her lead."

She emerged naked from Marcel's room after her shower and her face lit up when she noticed that I hadn't sent him away.

She came over to sit on my lap and gave me a passionate kiss. When she drew back, she looked me dead in the eye. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure in my life." I admitted. "Just enjoy yourself."

We each had a drink but since we were all anxious to get this show on the road our glasses were emptied quickly.

"My final bucketlist item is to be spit-roasted." she announced bluntly. Then she softened her tone and confided, "Since tonight might be the only time I ever visit this fantasy, I'm in no rush to finish. Pace yourselves."

Sarah took us each by the hand and led us into Marcel's room, then helped us rapidly disrobe.

When Marcel's cock sprang into view, we all noticed that while tracing his rod at the ghost resort, Sarah had inadvertently left behind a black magic marker line his full length. She licked her thumb to give it a brief scrub, but it had no effect other than increasing his arousal.

"After tonight you're going to have to be celibate for a couple of weeks," Sarah joked. "Because there's no way to explain THAT on a first date."

We shared a chuckle at his predicament which further lightened the mood.

The head of his penis was shaped like a perfect hemisphere instead of being bell-shaped. Sarah had wondered since her first viewing if this unique shape would feel different inside her, so she decided to end the suspense immediately.

She crawled onto his bed and directed him to move in behind and prepare to enter her pussy doggy-style. Because of his height, he chose to remain standing. I knelt on the bed in front of her.

She started stroking my cock as she looked up at me and mouthed "I love you." I bent forward to kiss her. An inhale of breath combined with a sudden iron grip around my love muscle told me that she has just been impaled.

Sarah had started working on her pussy in the shower and combined with the realization that her fantasy was about to be fulfilled convinced her that she was more than lubricated enough to start without any further foreplay.

But Marcel's first few thrusts were jarring, and she firmly held my vein infested meatpie like a handle as she fought for balance.

Learning and adapting as she went, she released me so she could get her second hand on the bed and create a more stable base. Then she opened her mouth and invited me in.

She usually gives good blow jobs and was attempting to use some of her tongue skills but quickly realized that Marcel's thrusts, even though rhythmic and somewhat predictable, didn't allow for a finessed fellatio but rather resulted in a straight up face fucking.

With the angles and pace not adding up, Sarah called a brief timeout and rolled onto her back. The spit-roasting had been a fantasy that just didn't live up to reality, but that didn't mean the threesome idea was totally dead. Learn and adapt.

Marcel stepped up between her legs which she then draped over his shoulders. I moved to stand beside the bed and Sarah once again gripped my cock. After Marcel began fucking her pussy once again, Sarah turned her head to the side and took me into her mouth. Marcel and I each grabbed a breast and Sarah was able to incorporate her tongue play into the blow job.

As we seemed to establish some sort of workable system, Sarah was finally able to begin to appreciate and enjoy the experience even if it wasn't a true spit-roast.

After a few moments she briefly removed me from her mouth as she experienced her first orgasm of the evening. As she rode the waves of ecstasy she maintained a vice-like grip on my erect manhood.

When Marcel warned that he was getting close, Sarah called another pause and announced, "Time to swap ends."

As we were moving around to reposition, we were suddenly interrupted.

"Don't mind me." encouraged Sophie as she breezed into the room.

We all stared silently as she moved to the curtains.

"These were blowing around and intermittently blocking our view." she informed us as she threw them the rest of the way open to reveal Bart and Jo sitting on patio furniture outside. They each raised a glass toward us in acknowledgement.

Sophie stopped in her tracks as she noticed Marcel's cock, before deadpanning, "Cool racing stripe bro."

I sort of felt bad for the guy... or as bad as you can feel for a guy who looks like a 6'-8" Viking god. But when your best friend's wife sees your dick for the first time, you don't want to be the subject of a sick burn.

She walked past him toward the bed. "Ok, we noticed you struggling with the spit-roast so I'm here to help."

"Tabarnak!" exclaimed Sarah, apparently having adopted French swear words after spending a week with the Quebec crew. "How long were you pervs watching us anyway?"

"There were no empty seats at the Micheal Jackson show." Sophie replied. "So, we came back here and witnessed virtually the whole damn train wreck."

"Calice!" Sarah cursed.

"Pshaw." Sophie said dismissively. "It might have been a disaster on mechanics, but there were three beautiful bodies, so you still looked good while screwing it up."

"So, you're saying that I have a beautiful body?" asked Marcel impishly.

"Sure Marcie... other than the zebra dick." Sophie fired back playfully.

"I have to agree with her there." Sarah piled on, omitting that fact that she was the one responsible. "The rest of your ink is tasteful, but this one is a little overdone."

"I'll pass your criticism along to the artist." Marcel replied, adding, "I'll make sure to give her a blast."

"Oh... I really wish you would." Sarah purred.

Sophie could feel the innuendo being exchanged between these two and made a mental note to find out the whole story as she repositioned Sarah on all-fours again. She had Marcel stand by Sarah's head while I knelt on the bed behind her.

"When you're ready Sarah, take Marcie into your mouth. You set the rhythm." As she gave these instructions, she pressed herself up against my back, then reached around and slowly began to stroke my cock.

As Sarah began her slow, deliberate blow job, Sophie whispered in my ear, "We're going to enter her, but it's important to follow her lead. She's setting the pace."

With that she used her hand to rub my penis along Sarah's moist slit before bumping her pelvis against my ass and pushing me inside Sarah's well lubricated pussy. After that she put her hands on my hips to subtly guide the speed and depth of my thrusts.

With the amount of participation and coaching Sophie was doing, I briefly wondered if this could still be considered a threesome.

Sarah began making moaning noises from around Marcel's pistoning member, letting us all know that, despite our earlier missteps, her fantasy had indeed been successfully turned into reality. However, Marcel had already been on the brink before the last position change, so he raced her to the finish line.

Pulling out he pumped his cock a couple of times before Sarah knocked his hand aside and took over this final duty for him. As his cannon erupted into ropes of cum, she aimed them at her face and her dangling tits. She milked the final drops directly into her mouth while staring up into his eyes.

This was enough to put her over the edge and when her pussy clamped down on my cock she dragged me there with her, completing a perfect chain of orgasms, my seed filling her depths.

Sophie continued to manipulate my hips until my wilting cock finally plopped out, spent.

I heard noises and turned toward the patio where Bart and Jo were exaggeratedly cheering like they'd won the lotto... the cheeky buggers.

In the afterglow of sex, Sarah was the first to speak, asking, "Sophie, just what exactly do you do for a living anyway?"

"If it's a pornographer or sex worker you're looking for, I can tell you I'm not one." Sophie teased in her best Liam Neeson impersonation. "But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired through trial and error. Skills that allow me help people like you."

"Well, your particular set of skills came in handy tonight." Sarah declared, reaching out to give Sophie a well-earned high-five, before padding over to the shower to clean up for the second time tonight.

**************

The following morning, we awoke before dawn as we prepared for our return home. Once again I ventured to the lobby bar to get a thermos full of rocket fuel.

When I returned, Sarah was ready to make one final coffee delivery. Since it was a travel day, I noticed that she had spent a little extra time on her hair and makeup. Except for the ribbon tied to her ponytail, she wore nothing.

She climbed over the railing onto Marcel's balcony, then turned to accept two mugs from me. I noticed that her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was obviously flustered.

"I have no idea what this is about." she confessed, aware of her current state of anxiousness. "I've been doing these deliveries all week to tease him. After last night, I would have expected to be more comfortable parading in there nude, not less."

"Last night the dynamics of our group got altered." I replied, just spitballing ideas. "Once you walk in and see that he treats you normally, you'll relax."

As she turned, I surrendered to impulse and gave her ass a couple of gentle slaps, similar to how you'd dismiss a small child with a pat on the head. "We check out in under an hour... don't be long."

She responded with an indignant yet playfully arched eyebrow. I smiled inwardly, aware that I had subtly lightened her mood.

When she reached his door, she took a final deep breath before disappearing inside.

"Coffee is here!" were Marcel's first excited words. He was still in bed but was propped up on pillows. Sarah had an idea that he was involved in a FaceTime call, and her suspicions were confirmed when she heard a familiar voice.

"Flip the camera around." shouted Ricky enthusiastically.

Sarah set Marcel's coffee on the bedside table, then took a long drink of her own using both hands, the desired effect was to stretch out her torso and lift her tits. She figured, 'if you're going to pose, you may as well do it right.'

Next, she placed her mug beside Marcel's, lifted the covers and climbed into bed beside him. One hand went behind his back and the other was on his lower abdomen just above the sheets. She snuggled in under his arm so one tit was pressed to his ribcage while the other was center frame as Marcel rotated the camera back to selfie mode.

Her goal was to elicit a reaction from Ricky, but she interrupted him first. "What are you doing up at this time of the morning anyway?"

"Denis spent the night in hospital but still isn't really comfortable." he stated, although he briefly faltered when Sarah began playing with the hair below Marcel's navel. After a brief pause, he recovered to add, "I'm staying with him until his dad and sister get into town tonight."

She wouldn't have pegged Ricky as the 'sit at the hospital with a sick friend' type, but these guys had been friends since childhood, so she guessed a bond had been forged. She also assumed that, although he was doing a noble deed, he was probably balancing it off by hitting on nurses and generally being a nuisance.

Sarah moved her hand under the covers to make Ricky think she was reaching for Marcel's dick, but accidentally did just that - bumping it before pulling her hand away slightly.

"These coffee deliveries sure seem to have more services than I remember." Ricky stated while ceasing to blink.

"You're the one who suggested that I get more involved." she teased back. "Then after last night's farewell orgy..."

"Farewell orgy?" Ricky stuttered in surprise.

"Nah, she's teasing you bro. There was no orgy." Marcel interrupted, then looking directly at Sarah he stated, "You can't refer to a threesome as an orgy."

She was pleasantly surprised that Marcel had cottoned onto her plan so quickly and immediately made the decision to play along. Sarah reached for his cock again, this time on purpose. She gave it a light squeeze as a reward.

"You seriously held out until the fucking day I left?" Ricky asked incredulously.

"How can you seriously say it wasn't an orgy?" Sarah asked, completely ignoring Ricky's protestations. "Sophie was fucking me while wearing Brian like a living, breathing, strap-on."

"No. No. No. This isn't fair." Ricky protested. "I leave Cuba, and within 12-hours both of my dream girls start screwing anyone with a French accent?"

"I think you changed my mind." Marcel admitted, once again ignoring Ricky. "When it was happening, I'd have said Sophie was dry-humping Brian. But 'human strap-on' does seem more appropriate."

"You two better not be pulling my leg." Ricky whined.

"Got a plane to catch Rick. See ya." Marcel said, abruptly ending the call.

Sarah gave a little chuckle at their performance until she realized that she was still holding Marcel's cock. "Whoops. I better be going."

"I don't want to make things awkward at the airport," Marcel whispered while reaching to cup Sarah's free breast. "So let's say goodbye here."

He leaned down and his mouth found hers. Although he initiated, it was her tongue that probed first. As the kiss lingered, she gave his cock a few lazy strokes, figuring, 'if you're going to leave him wanting more, you may as well do it right.'

*******************

Bart and Sophie met us in the lobby to send us off.

"Ricky already called us to get your orgy story corroborated." Bart said.

"I hope you played along?" Sarah asked.

"I clarified that I was coaching." Sophie stated. "And that I did not invent the 'human strap-on.'"

As our bus pulled up, we hugged and said our final goodbyes. Jo suggested meeting up on vacation again. Sarah invited them to stay at our place the next time they were down east. Sophie invited us to drop by their place any time we were passing through Montreal.

We boarded the bus, starting our journey home.

***Epilogue***

After enduring what felt like the longest flight of his life, Denis went directly to the hospital where he remained until well after Bart and Sophie returned a week later. He was eventually diagnosed with Crohn's, adopted a healthier lifestyle and is coping with the disease.

After hearing the details of Sarah and Marcel's graffiti adventure, Sophie and Bart went back to explore the second floor of the ghost resort alone. By the time they arrived, four more penis drawings had been added to the collection (three traced like Marcel's, while one was cartoonishly large). All, except for Marcel's seemed to have a milky substance that had hit the glass before running down to pool on the floor.

The Quebec crew still get together every year for a guy's week. Although they have done a Vegas trip, they tend to stay closer to home, usually spending their time together camping or exploring on ATVs.

On one of these trips, our group beach photo with Sarah and Sophie topless got "accidentally" shared with Ricky. Months of pestering later he was eventually allowed to touch Sophie's surgically enhanced tits. However, no amount of hounding has allowed him to run his cock between them.

We have remained in contact with the gang over social media, sending each other birthday greetings every year. However, the promises to meet up again haven't been kept.

"The biggest lies are the ones told in departure lounges, whether in bus stations, airports or funeral parlors." ~ Brian

"What goes in Cuba, stays in Cuba." ~ Sarah