Vixen
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Vacation Vixen free porn video
I only cheat on Ron once a year, and to be honest, he deserves it. It’s when we’re on vacation, when he deserts me for his beloved golf, so I have nothing to do with my time but to seek out lovers. It started about ten years ago, when we’d been married around eight years. Ron’s parents had agreed to take young Sam for a fortnight to allow us to have something of a second honeymoon, so we’d flown off to the Med. But reliving our introduction to marital sex was the last thing on Ron’s mind because he deliberately picked a resort with a good selection of golf courses. So, the morning after we arrived, he left me at the breakfast table and disappeared with his clubs.
It wasn’t my intention to use this opportunity to cheat on him, but I had thought about it previously as our sex life was something of a wash-out. My problem was that we lived within the small community of a village and any indiscretion would immediately have become the talk of the town, so affairs or even flings where quite out of the question. But here I was, left on my own, thousands of miles from home and, I suppose, available.
Sex wasn’t the first thing on my mind and the first few days I kept busy with shopping and lying by the pool with a cooling drink by my side. I was well aware of the attractive men around, but I was a married woman and a mother and really didn’t think anybody would be interested. Ron would return from his golf around six, we’d go for dinner and then spend the evening in the bar. But Ron was making golfing buddies fast and he was soon joining them for post-mortems on the days’ play, leaving me quite alone. It seemed a lousy way to spend a holiday and I suppose I was ripe for the plucking when Holger made his move.
I wasn’t hugely sexually experienced at that time. I’d had a few boyfriends before I met and married Ron, and I’d lost my virginity at 20 to a guy called Craig, but I’d been faithful to Ron, even though I knew full well that he was no sexual champion. He liked to make love, certainly, but it was a very brief event, consisting of him kissing me, mauling my breasts for a bit and then penetrating me and doing it. Even this didn’t last long, but this was my fault, according to him, because my vagina was so hot and exciting. We gave each other a little bit of oral attention now and again, but that was very rare. That was in the beginning, and once Sam came along it coincided with Ron getting promotion at work so his interest in his wife diminished to almost nothing. To put it bluntly I wasn’t getting nearly enough loving.
Holger was staying in the same hotel and I’d spotted him in the bar, a big, blond, Scandinavian with blue eyes and a captivating smile. He seemed to be in his early 20s, dressed casually in t-shirt and jeans, but what interested me mostly was the way he moved. He had an easy athleticism that was positively fluid and very attractive. I had no idea that he’d even noticed me till he turned up beside my sun lounger the following day. I’d been struggling to put some lotion on my back and as I twisted round this shadow blanked out the sun.
“Would you like some help?” he asked me.
I grinned and handed him the bottle. I was wearing a little bikini and he was wearing tight swimming briefs which displayed the shape of an impressive male member. I kept an eye on it through half closed eyes as he started applying the lotion to my back with his big strong hands. Somewhere along the line it developed into him massaging me and I found it very soothing, even though his hands did stray right to the edge of the waist of my pants. My stomach tightened as I wondered whether he was going to slip his hand beneath, but he must have thought better of it and moved back up my spine.
“You have a very nice touch,” I said.
“Thank you. My name it is Holger and I am Norwegian. And you?”
“Jill. From England.”
“My hands, they can do other things for pretty ladies, besides applying the lotion.”
“Oh, you’re naughty,” I scolded, turning on to my back, “I’m a married woman.”
“I know this. I saw your husband in the bar last night. He does not take care of you. He is a stupid man.”
“He’s a golfer,” I explained.
“Ah, if I had the choice between being with a beautiful woman or hitting a little ball with a stick, I would select the lady, I think.”
“Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?”
“Undoubtedly, you are a very attractive woman, you must know this.”
It was the first time anyone had complimented me on my appearance in years and I was flattered. I’d worked hard to regain my shape after Sam was born and Ron hadn’t even noticed.
Holger started rubbing lotion onto my belly, which was entirely unnecessary as I could easily reach it. What did this Norwegian intend, I wondered, closing my eyes again and enjoying his touch. His hands moved towards my breasts. They were a fair size and one of my major attractions, the things boys had always grabbed for when I was younger. But Holger resisted the opportunity and returned downward on the gap between my bra and pants.
“A beautiful women like you,” he began the conversation again, “whose husband leaves her like this, you must have many lovers.”
“Huh,” I sniffed, “I should be so lucky.”
“How can this not be? You are so desirable.”
“You’re being silly, Holger. I don’t know what things are like in Norway, but English women who are married and have c***dren don’t have many lovers.”
“I do not understand this.”
I opened my eyes to see if he was having me on but his expression was blank and innocent. “Marital fidelity?” I asked, “Do you understand that?”
“Of course. It is an ancient concept which allows men to control women as they fear that allowing their women to have sex with other men might lead to them having to rear other men’s c***dren. It surely does not apply in this day and age when we have so much contraception?”
I’d never thought of it quite that way. Is that all the fuss was about? Couples staying faithful to each other just to avoid the prospect of a cuckoo in the nest. It seemed absurd.
“I am not a total hedonist, but I do believe that the pursuit of pleasure and happiness now supercedes those prehistoric requirements,” Holger added.
I had no idea what hedonism meant at that time, though I do now. But pleasure and happiness I knew about, and I knew I wasn’t getting any. Still, if Holger was implying what I thought he was implying, that he’d like to make love to me, it was still a big step for me to take.
“Talking like this makes me feel very uncomfortable,” I complained, primly.
“I understand. You have not been with another man before, it must be a frightening thought for you. Please forgive me for being too bold. If you change your mind, I will be around.”
He did exactly the right thing by giving me time to think about it. If he’d pushed it I’d have bolted like a frightened rabbit, but now I had time to consider my life and what I wanted out of it. I broached the thing in a general kind of way with Ron over dinner that night.
“The big, blond, chap, he was in the bar last night,” I said, “I met him at the pool in the afternoon. He oiled my back.”
“Oh yes, Scandinavian, isn’t he. Dirty buggers, that lot. Surprised he didn’t drag you up to his room and give you a good seeing to.”
“Maybe he did.”
He smiled smugly. “I think you’re a little old for him, dear.”
Too old? Too old? I was livid.
If that wasn’t bad enough he totally cut his own throat by adding. “Big, strapping, lad, mind you. Wonder if he plays golf. Low handicap, I’ll bet.”
The man was obsessed, and it wasn’t with me. Without knowing it he’d just given Holger a licence to be intimate with me.
The next day I found Holger lying face-down on a lounger by the pool.
“Would you like me to return the favour?” I asked, holding up the bottle of lotion.
He grinned broadly. “Ah, Jill. Please, if you don’t mind.”
“My pleasure,” I said, and it was. He was heavily muscled, even on his back and I really enjoyed kneading the great ropes and cables of sinew that criss-crossed his back.
“What we talked about yesterday,” I whispered.
“Yes?” he asked eagerly.
“Did you mean it?”
“Of course. You are a very attractive woman and I desire you greatly.”
“What room are you in?”
“Your husband doesn’t mind?”
“My husband doesn’t know. He must never know.”
“Ah. The secret affair, that is good too. I am in Room 402. When can we get together?”
“Whenever. He’s away all day on the golf course.”
He turned over and I spotted right away that the bulge in his trunks had grown perceptibly. “Now?”
Things were moving much faster than I’d anticipated. Totally naively I’d imagined that there would some sort of period of romancing before the main event. But I’d made the offer and couldn’t retreat.
“Now, if you want.”
“I want very much,” he said swinging his feet round. “I will go to my room and you should follow in ten minutes. Would that be okay?”
“Fine,” I said, already dreading what I’d let myself in for.
He stood up, smiled at me and departed, leaving me sitting alone for the longest ten minutes of my life. I thought of every which way I could wriggle out of the mess I’d got myself into. Sitting here, right now, I was a perfectly respectable, middle class, Englishwoman and in ten minutes or so I’d be a slut, an adulterous wife, I’d have cheated on my husband. Would I be able to face him? Face Sam? Face my family, my friends? All for a brief fling, because that’s all this could possibly be. But then Ron’s words came back to give me spirit, “I think you’re a little old for him, dear.”
Was that what he thought of me? That my life as an attractive and desirable woman was over? I’d show him, the swine.
I grabbed my things and walked on admittedly wobbly legs back into the hotel building and took the lift up to the 4th floor.
Holger opened the door to me and pulled me into his room. Not only into his room, but into his arms, smothering my face with kisses. Now there was no doubt, no resistance, this was what I wanted, to be wanted. I returned his kisses eagerly and felt his penis harden against my belly. His hands roamed over my semi-naked body, stroking my back and bottom, squeezing my breasts. My hands just reached up to his head and I ran my fingers through his blond curls. From that first kiss I was an adulteress, as far as I was concerned. What was to follow was immaterial, the moment I’d opened my mouth to him I’d crossed the line into immorality.
This was no time to be the staid Englishwoman. I ran my hands down his back, under the waistband of his trunks and squeezed his muscular buttocks. They were rock hard and enticing and I longed to sink my teeth into them.
We edged over to the couch and descended onto it. Holger unhooked the bra of my bikini and threw it aside. His mouth immediately latched onto a nipple and nipped at it gently making me moan with arousal.
All of a sudden he broke away from me. “Oh, I am so rude. I am a bad host. I have offered you no refreshment. Can I get you anything?”
I reached forward and massaged his impressive bulge. “Only this.”
It was an impulsive act and totally out of character for me. I wasn’t normally so forward, but I seemed to realise that this was part of my evolution as a person and a different way of acting would be required.
He peeled his trunks down a little so that the head of his penis peeped out. “That you are most welcome to.”
I reached over with both hands and pulled his trucks down further revealing a healthy sized organ, standing amid a bush of reddish blond hair. Holger lifted his bottom and wriggled out of his trunks totally. I was alone in a room with a naked man sporting an immense erection and I felt my lady parts twitch with excitement.
Holger took my hand and placed it on his penis. It was hot and hard and I gripped it feverishly.
“You are not so nervous now,” he grinned.
“No,” I smiled, tugging on his rampant b**st. It was much bigger than Ron’s, longer and thicker, the biggest I’d ever seen or felt.
“I may see you too?” Holger asked and I nodded shyly before standing and pulling down the pants of my bikini.
He whistled in appreciation and ran his fingers through the thick bush of pubic hair I had then. I used to only trim round the edges when I went on holiday so I would be decent in public. “Very beautiful,” me new lover said, “I may kiss?”
I moved forward so my pudenda was directly in front of his face and he sniffed deeply, sucking in my sexual aroma. Then he parted my thighs with his hands and put his tongue between my vaginal lips. It was utterly delicious and much, much better than Ron’s pathetic attempts at cunnilingus.
“Ooh,” I sighed, placing my hands on Holger’s head to steady myself. My legs were like water and I longed to grind myself against his probing tongue, but I was fairly sure that if I did that the sensations would be so overpowering that I would collapse. Luckily Holger pulled me down onto the couch and, with me on my back, spread my legs wide while he knelt between them and continued attending to my vagina with his mouth.
It was wonderful, lying there naked with a strange man lapping at me between the legs and I felt lascivious, debauched, depraved and utterly decadent. Holger was obviously an experienced and talented licker of ladies’ intimate parts. The only way I’d had an orgasm previously was by attending to myself with my fingers, but my Scandinavian hunk brought me there several times, courtesy of his tongue on my clitoris and his fingers probing deep inside me. I shook my head in wild abandon as I climaxed and clamped my thighs tight around the poor man’s head. How he put up with me I don’t know, but he kept at me till I lay back totally drained.
“That was wonderful Holger thank you very much.”
“You are very welcome. I enjoyed it too, it is a thing I like very much.”
He was a God-send, a man who actually liked licking a lady’s sex parts. I pulled him up onto the couch and kissed him voraciously by way of thanks. His mouth tasted strongly of my sexual parts but it only served to arouse me further. Holger’s penis was still rock hard and nudging at my belly, so I gripped it below the head and jerked at it again.
“You will suck?” he asked.
I had to return what he’d done for me but I needed to let him know that I was very inexperienced in the arts of fellation. “I won’t be very good, “ I confessed.
“It is okay, men are easy to please. Only put it in your mouth.”
That was easily done and I engulfed his bulbous head without difficulty. He held my head in his hands and started thrusting gently in and out of my mouth. He didn’t push too far so it was quite comfortable for me and I didn’t so much suck him as let him have intercourse with my mouth. He tasted clean but salty which I assumed was sweat and though it wasn’t really stimulating for me my lover seemed to be enjoying it. After a while he stopped moving and asked me to lick along his shaft and all over the head. This I did quite willingly, enjoying the size and strength of his member. I’d also cupped his testicles in the palm of one hand and was gently squeezing them which seemed to please him.
“My balls, you will lick, please.”
That too, was interesting, and something I’d never done before.
His member seemed to grow and grow as I ministered to it orally and as his excitement grew he began thrusting his hips at me and his breathing grew shallow.
“We do it now, Jill?”
I was more than ready and jumped up onto the couch to spread my legs. He lowered himself onto me and as the head of his penis touched my vaginal lips I flinched a little.
“Are you okay?” he asked me tenderly.
“You’re my first lover, Holger. The first man I’ve made love to apart from my husband since I married.
“I am very honoured.”
“Be gentle with me,” I whispered, not really meaning it. What I really wanted was to be made love to by a wild a****l. Holger picked up my vibe totally and though he penetrated me slowly, once he was fully encased within my body he rapidly speeded up and was soon giving me the really good seeing-to Ron had suggested the previous day.
He was a very talented lover, able to vary his pace and depth of penetration as I required, and this meant that he brought me to orgasm several times as he made love to me. It was quite, quite, wonderful, especially as he showed no sign of reaching his own climax soon. Instead he suggested that we changed position and he took me on my hands and knees, face down and flat out and with me on top of him, both facing him and with my back to him. He finally had his climax and ejaculated inside me as he spooned up against my back as we lay on our sides. By that time we were both dripping with sweat and exhausted, but I felt exhilarated, my introduction to adultery had been a total success.
“Thank you,” I breathed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“No,” he replied, “I thank you. You are a very good lover. I have enjoyed very much.”
We got up off the couch and I retrieved my bikini, fearing that there might be some awkwardness between us now that we’d finished. Instead, Holger took me in his arms and kissed me passionately.
“You will come again? Tomorrow?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Oh, very much. I have another week of holiday and I would like to have you every day.”
Which is what we did, with me slipping down to his room soon after Ron disappeared in the morning.
One thing I should mention is that Ron made love to me every night after Holger had been with me and was very passionate about it too, almost as if he guessed what I’d been up to. He never said anything, but pounded me more ferociously than he had for a long time. I don’t know if he could still smell the sex on me, though I’d showered, but whatever it was it seemed to re-ignite his lust for me, which was a good thing. He could never match up to Holger’s performance, of course, but did his best, the poor dear. It basically meant that for that week I was getting two sex sessions per day, one brilliant and one well above average. It gave me a taste for vacation sex and that is how I began to look forward to those two weeks every year when Ron and I would go abroad, he to play golf, and I to play with other men. We always stayed at the same resort and so I avoided locals, looking exclusively for fellow holiday-makers. They came from Europe mostly and I’ve had Germans, Danes and Irishmen along with a sprinkling of fellow Brits. Every encounter with another man is followed by renewed interest from my husband and I assume I must exude some post-coital pheromones which he can sense, though I doubt if he’s aware of what’s causing his arousal. He probably puts it down to the sun. It is a system that works perfectly for me and I have two weeks of passionate sex to think about and masturbate to for the other fifty weeks of the year. Ever since that first time I’ve insisted that we take a holiday as a couple on top of the family holiday with Sam and luckily we can afford it. The only time it became a bit difficult was when one young Londoner, Terry, became a bit infatuated with me and tracked me down to my home town and appeared at my door. He wanted to continue our fling and claimed that he loved me. I told him not to be silly, but he was very insistent. For every argument I put forward about my marital situation and the close community I lived in, he came up with some devious method of overcoming. He would drive through from London once a week and come to my house when Ron was at work and Sam was at school. One sexual encounter a week was all he asked. I was tempted as he had been a good sexual partner, but I knew that I was treading on thin ice. I had to threaten him with calling the police if he didn’t go away. The cheeky beggar asked for one for the road to remember me by and I was so astonished that I let him have me on the fireside rug. It was the first and only time I’d cheated in my own home. Not only that, but in my own town and even in my own country. Adultery was for abroad. That one time, however, I cast caution to the winds and took my knickers off and pulled a strange man on top of me as the TV blared a daytime soap opera just above my head. I gave him what he wanted and chased him from my home. He got the message and never bothered me again.
So, there it is, my adulterous life. You may see me in a supermarket, pushing a trolley, just another housewife, living a drab life. But you don’t see me in foreign hotel rooms where I allow the other me to emerge. She’s a bad girl, the vacation vixen,but she’s not doing anyone any harm, and she makes a lot of men very happy.
It wasn’t my intention to use this opportunity to cheat on him, but I had thought about it previously as our sex life was something of a wash-out. My problem was that we lived within the small community of a village and any indiscretion would immediately have become the talk of the town, so affairs or even flings where quite out of the question. But here I was, left on my own, thousands of miles from home and, I suppose, available.
Sex wasn’t the first thing on my mind and the first few days I kept busy with shopping and lying by the pool with a cooling drink by my side. I was well aware of the attractive men around, but I was a married woman and a mother and really didn’t think anybody would be interested. Ron would return from his golf around six, we’d go for dinner and then spend the evening in the bar. But Ron was making golfing buddies fast and he was soon joining them for post-mortems on the days’ play, leaving me quite alone. It seemed a lousy way to spend a holiday and I suppose I was ripe for the plucking when Holger made his move.
I wasn’t hugely sexually experienced at that time. I’d had a few boyfriends before I met and married Ron, and I’d lost my virginity at 20 to a guy called Craig, but I’d been faithful to Ron, even though I knew full well that he was no sexual champion. He liked to make love, certainly, but it was a very brief event, consisting of him kissing me, mauling my breasts for a bit and then penetrating me and doing it. Even this didn’t last long, but this was my fault, according to him, because my vagina was so hot and exciting. We gave each other a little bit of oral attention now and again, but that was very rare. That was in the beginning, and once Sam came along it coincided with Ron getting promotion at work so his interest in his wife diminished to almost nothing. To put it bluntly I wasn’t getting nearly enough loving.
Holger was staying in the same hotel and I’d spotted him in the bar, a big, blond, Scandinavian with blue eyes and a captivating smile. He seemed to be in his early 20s, dressed casually in t-shirt and jeans, but what interested me mostly was the way he moved. He had an easy athleticism that was positively fluid and very attractive. I had no idea that he’d even noticed me till he turned up beside my sun lounger the following day. I’d been struggling to put some lotion on my back and as I twisted round this shadow blanked out the sun.
“Would you like some help?” he asked me.
I grinned and handed him the bottle. I was wearing a little bikini and he was wearing tight swimming briefs which displayed the shape of an impressive male member. I kept an eye on it through half closed eyes as he started applying the lotion to my back with his big strong hands. Somewhere along the line it developed into him massaging me and I found it very soothing, even though his hands did stray right to the edge of the waist of my pants. My stomach tightened as I wondered whether he was going to slip his hand beneath, but he must have thought better of it and moved back up my spine.
“You have a very nice touch,” I said.
“Thank you. My name it is Holger and I am Norwegian. And you?”
“Jill. From England.”
“My hands, they can do other things for pretty ladies, besides applying the lotion.”
“Oh, you’re naughty,” I scolded, turning on to my back, “I’m a married woman.”
“I know this. I saw your husband in the bar last night. He does not take care of you. He is a stupid man.”
“He’s a golfer,” I explained.
“Ah, if I had the choice between being with a beautiful woman or hitting a little ball with a stick, I would select the lady, I think.”
“Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?”
“Undoubtedly, you are a very attractive woman, you must know this.”
It was the first time anyone had complimented me on my appearance in years and I was flattered. I’d worked hard to regain my shape after Sam was born and Ron hadn’t even noticed.
Holger started rubbing lotion onto my belly, which was entirely unnecessary as I could easily reach it. What did this Norwegian intend, I wondered, closing my eyes again and enjoying his touch. His hands moved towards my breasts. They were a fair size and one of my major attractions, the things boys had always grabbed for when I was younger. But Holger resisted the opportunity and returned downward on the gap between my bra and pants.
“A beautiful women like you,” he began the conversation again, “whose husband leaves her like this, you must have many lovers.”
“Huh,” I sniffed, “I should be so lucky.”
“How can this not be? You are so desirable.”
“You’re being silly, Holger. I don’t know what things are like in Norway, but English women who are married and have c***dren don’t have many lovers.”
“I do not understand this.”
I opened my eyes to see if he was having me on but his expression was blank and innocent. “Marital fidelity?” I asked, “Do you understand that?”
“Of course. It is an ancient concept which allows men to control women as they fear that allowing their women to have sex with other men might lead to them having to rear other men’s c***dren. It surely does not apply in this day and age when we have so much contraception?”
I’d never thought of it quite that way. Is that all the fuss was about? Couples staying faithful to each other just to avoid the prospect of a cuckoo in the nest. It seemed absurd.
“I am not a total hedonist, but I do believe that the pursuit of pleasure and happiness now supercedes those prehistoric requirements,” Holger added.
I had no idea what hedonism meant at that time, though I do now. But pleasure and happiness I knew about, and I knew I wasn’t getting any. Still, if Holger was implying what I thought he was implying, that he’d like to make love to me, it was still a big step for me to take.
“Talking like this makes me feel very uncomfortable,” I complained, primly.
“I understand. You have not been with another man before, it must be a frightening thought for you. Please forgive me for being too bold. If you change your mind, I will be around.”
He did exactly the right thing by giving me time to think about it. If he’d pushed it I’d have bolted like a frightened rabbit, but now I had time to consider my life and what I wanted out of it. I broached the thing in a general kind of way with Ron over dinner that night.
“The big, blond, chap, he was in the bar last night,” I said, “I met him at the pool in the afternoon. He oiled my back.”
“Oh yes, Scandinavian, isn’t he. Dirty buggers, that lot. Surprised he didn’t drag you up to his room and give you a good seeing to.”
“Maybe he did.”
He smiled smugly. “I think you’re a little old for him, dear.”
Too old? Too old? I was livid.
If that wasn’t bad enough he totally cut his own throat by adding. “Big, strapping, lad, mind you. Wonder if he plays golf. Low handicap, I’ll bet.”
The man was obsessed, and it wasn’t with me. Without knowing it he’d just given Holger a licence to be intimate with me.
The next day I found Holger lying face-down on a lounger by the pool.
“Would you like me to return the favour?” I asked, holding up the bottle of lotion.
He grinned broadly. “Ah, Jill. Please, if you don’t mind.”
“My pleasure,” I said, and it was. He was heavily muscled, even on his back and I really enjoyed kneading the great ropes and cables of sinew that criss-crossed his back.
“What we talked about yesterday,” I whispered.
“Yes?” he asked eagerly.
“Did you mean it?”
“Of course. You are a very attractive woman and I desire you greatly.”
“What room are you in?”
“Your husband doesn’t mind?”
“My husband doesn’t know. He must never know.”
“Ah. The secret affair, that is good too. I am in Room 402. When can we get together?”
“Whenever. He’s away all day on the golf course.”
He turned over and I spotted right away that the bulge in his trunks had grown perceptibly. “Now?”
Things were moving much faster than I’d anticipated. Totally naively I’d imagined that there would some sort of period of romancing before the main event. But I’d made the offer and couldn’t retreat.
“Now, if you want.”
“I want very much,” he said swinging his feet round. “I will go to my room and you should follow in ten minutes. Would that be okay?”
“Fine,” I said, already dreading what I’d let myself in for.
He stood up, smiled at me and departed, leaving me sitting alone for the longest ten minutes of my life. I thought of every which way I could wriggle out of the mess I’d got myself into. Sitting here, right now, I was a perfectly respectable, middle class, Englishwoman and in ten minutes or so I’d be a slut, an adulterous wife, I’d have cheated on my husband. Would I be able to face him? Face Sam? Face my family, my friends? All for a brief fling, because that’s all this could possibly be. But then Ron’s words came back to give me spirit, “I think you’re a little old for him, dear.”
Was that what he thought of me? That my life as an attractive and desirable woman was over? I’d show him, the swine.
I grabbed my things and walked on admittedly wobbly legs back into the hotel building and took the lift up to the 4th floor.
Holger opened the door to me and pulled me into his room. Not only into his room, but into his arms, smothering my face with kisses. Now there was no doubt, no resistance, this was what I wanted, to be wanted. I returned his kisses eagerly and felt his penis harden against my belly. His hands roamed over my semi-naked body, stroking my back and bottom, squeezing my breasts. My hands just reached up to his head and I ran my fingers through his blond curls. From that first kiss I was an adulteress, as far as I was concerned. What was to follow was immaterial, the moment I’d opened my mouth to him I’d crossed the line into immorality.
This was no time to be the staid Englishwoman. I ran my hands down his back, under the waistband of his trunks and squeezed his muscular buttocks. They were rock hard and enticing and I longed to sink my teeth into them.
We edged over to the couch and descended onto it. Holger unhooked the bra of my bikini and threw it aside. His mouth immediately latched onto a nipple and nipped at it gently making me moan with arousal.
All of a sudden he broke away from me. “Oh, I am so rude. I am a bad host. I have offered you no refreshment. Can I get you anything?”
I reached forward and massaged his impressive bulge. “Only this.”
It was an impulsive act and totally out of character for me. I wasn’t normally so forward, but I seemed to realise that this was part of my evolution as a person and a different way of acting would be required.
He peeled his trunks down a little so that the head of his penis peeped out. “That you are most welcome to.”
I reached over with both hands and pulled his trucks down further revealing a healthy sized organ, standing amid a bush of reddish blond hair. Holger lifted his bottom and wriggled out of his trunks totally. I was alone in a room with a naked man sporting an immense erection and I felt my lady parts twitch with excitement.
Holger took my hand and placed it on his penis. It was hot and hard and I gripped it feverishly.
“You are not so nervous now,” he grinned.
“No,” I smiled, tugging on his rampant b**st. It was much bigger than Ron’s, longer and thicker, the biggest I’d ever seen or felt.
“I may see you too?” Holger asked and I nodded shyly before standing and pulling down the pants of my bikini.
He whistled in appreciation and ran his fingers through the thick bush of pubic hair I had then. I used to only trim round the edges when I went on holiday so I would be decent in public. “Very beautiful,” me new lover said, “I may kiss?”
I moved forward so my pudenda was directly in front of his face and he sniffed deeply, sucking in my sexual aroma. Then he parted my thighs with his hands and put his tongue between my vaginal lips. It was utterly delicious and much, much better than Ron’s pathetic attempts at cunnilingus.
“Ooh,” I sighed, placing my hands on Holger’s head to steady myself. My legs were like water and I longed to grind myself against his probing tongue, but I was fairly sure that if I did that the sensations would be so overpowering that I would collapse. Luckily Holger pulled me down onto the couch and, with me on my back, spread my legs wide while he knelt between them and continued attending to my vagina with his mouth.
It was wonderful, lying there naked with a strange man lapping at me between the legs and I felt lascivious, debauched, depraved and utterly decadent. Holger was obviously an experienced and talented licker of ladies’ intimate parts. The only way I’d had an orgasm previously was by attending to myself with my fingers, but my Scandinavian hunk brought me there several times, courtesy of his tongue on my clitoris and his fingers probing deep inside me. I shook my head in wild abandon as I climaxed and clamped my thighs tight around the poor man’s head. How he put up with me I don’t know, but he kept at me till I lay back totally drained.
“That was wonderful Holger thank you very much.”
“You are very welcome. I enjoyed it too, it is a thing I like very much.”
He was a God-send, a man who actually liked licking a lady’s sex parts. I pulled him up onto the couch and kissed him voraciously by way of thanks. His mouth tasted strongly of my sexual parts but it only served to arouse me further. Holger’s penis was still rock hard and nudging at my belly, so I gripped it below the head and jerked at it again.
“You will suck?” he asked.
I had to return what he’d done for me but I needed to let him know that I was very inexperienced in the arts of fellation. “I won’t be very good, “ I confessed.
“It is okay, men are easy to please. Only put it in your mouth.”
That was easily done and I engulfed his bulbous head without difficulty. He held my head in his hands and started thrusting gently in and out of my mouth. He didn’t push too far so it was quite comfortable for me and I didn’t so much suck him as let him have intercourse with my mouth. He tasted clean but salty which I assumed was sweat and though it wasn’t really stimulating for me my lover seemed to be enjoying it. After a while he stopped moving and asked me to lick along his shaft and all over the head. This I did quite willingly, enjoying the size and strength of his member. I’d also cupped his testicles in the palm of one hand and was gently squeezing them which seemed to please him.
“My balls, you will lick, please.”
That too, was interesting, and something I’d never done before.
His member seemed to grow and grow as I ministered to it orally and as his excitement grew he began thrusting his hips at me and his breathing grew shallow.
“We do it now, Jill?”
I was more than ready and jumped up onto the couch to spread my legs. He lowered himself onto me and as the head of his penis touched my vaginal lips I flinched a little.
“Are you okay?” he asked me tenderly.
“You’re my first lover, Holger. The first man I’ve made love to apart from my husband since I married.
“I am very honoured.”
“Be gentle with me,” I whispered, not really meaning it. What I really wanted was to be made love to by a wild a****l. Holger picked up my vibe totally and though he penetrated me slowly, once he was fully encased within my body he rapidly speeded up and was soon giving me the really good seeing-to Ron had suggested the previous day.
He was a very talented lover, able to vary his pace and depth of penetration as I required, and this meant that he brought me to orgasm several times as he made love to me. It was quite, quite, wonderful, especially as he showed no sign of reaching his own climax soon. Instead he suggested that we changed position and he took me on my hands and knees, face down and flat out and with me on top of him, both facing him and with my back to him. He finally had his climax and ejaculated inside me as he spooned up against my back as we lay on our sides. By that time we were both dripping with sweat and exhausted, but I felt exhilarated, my introduction to adultery had been a total success.
“Thank you,” I breathed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“No,” he replied, “I thank you. You are a very good lover. I have enjoyed very much.”
We got up off the couch and I retrieved my bikini, fearing that there might be some awkwardness between us now that we’d finished. Instead, Holger took me in his arms and kissed me passionately.
“You will come again? Tomorrow?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Oh, very much. I have another week of holiday and I would like to have you every day.”
Which is what we did, with me slipping down to his room soon after Ron disappeared in the morning.
One thing I should mention is that Ron made love to me every night after Holger had been with me and was very passionate about it too, almost as if he guessed what I’d been up to. He never said anything, but pounded me more ferociously than he had for a long time. I don’t know if he could still smell the sex on me, though I’d showered, but whatever it was it seemed to re-ignite his lust for me, which was a good thing. He could never match up to Holger’s performance, of course, but did his best, the poor dear. It basically meant that for that week I was getting two sex sessions per day, one brilliant and one well above average. It gave me a taste for vacation sex and that is how I began to look forward to those two weeks every year when Ron and I would go abroad, he to play golf, and I to play with other men. We always stayed at the same resort and so I avoided locals, looking exclusively for fellow holiday-makers. They came from Europe mostly and I’ve had Germans, Danes and Irishmen along with a sprinkling of fellow Brits. Every encounter with another man is followed by renewed interest from my husband and I assume I must exude some post-coital pheromones which he can sense, though I doubt if he’s aware of what’s causing his arousal. He probably puts it down to the sun. It is a system that works perfectly for me and I have two weeks of passionate sex to think about and masturbate to for the other fifty weeks of the year. Ever since that first time I’ve insisted that we take a holiday as a couple on top of the family holiday with Sam and luckily we can afford it. The only time it became a bit difficult was when one young Londoner, Terry, became a bit infatuated with me and tracked me down to my home town and appeared at my door. He wanted to continue our fling and claimed that he loved me. I told him not to be silly, but he was very insistent. For every argument I put forward about my marital situation and the close community I lived in, he came up with some devious method of overcoming. He would drive through from London once a week and come to my house when Ron was at work and Sam was at school. One sexual encounter a week was all he asked. I was tempted as he had been a good sexual partner, but I knew that I was treading on thin ice. I had to threaten him with calling the police if he didn’t go away. The cheeky beggar asked for one for the road to remember me by and I was so astonished that I let him have me on the fireside rug. It was the first and only time I’d cheated in my own home. Not only that, but in my own town and even in my own country. Adultery was for abroad. That one time, however, I cast caution to the winds and took my knickers off and pulled a strange man on top of me as the TV blared a daytime soap opera just above my head. I gave him what he wanted and chased him from my home. He got the message and never bothered me again.
So, there it is, my adulterous life. You may see me in a supermarket, pushing a trolley, just another housewife, living a drab life. But you don’t see me in foreign hotel rooms where I allow the other me to emerge. She’s a bad girl, the vacation vixen,but she’s not doing anyone any harm, and she makes a lot of men very happy.
Cheryl
- 06.06.2020
- 40
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Tales of the Naughty Vixen
- 3 years ago
- 26
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Tales of the Naughty Vixen
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