My husband was going to a high-level convention with some people from his department for a week. It was in Jamaica. Being a vice-president at the corporation, he got to take me along. It had been a while since we had gotten away so I made sure everything I brought was more than a little sexy. I brought several skimpy bikinis since my days would be spent at the pool while Jim and his team worked, as well as lingerie to wear under my dresses. I wanted my husband turned-on during the entire trip.
 
We flew down on an early morning flight, taking five of the first-class seats on the plane. There was a party bus to the resort. Jim and I had a suite.

We unpacked. The convention starting the next day, we had the afternoon to ourselves. After checking in we all spit up to our rooms with plans to meet for dinner.

Once we had finished unpacking I hopped in the shower. I came out of the bathroom naked to get a bikini. I saw my husband sitting at the balcony already reviewing material for the next day. Unable to resist I walked out onto the balcony. He looked up saw I was naked and grinned.

I knelt between his legs and undid his pants looking up into his eyes. Once I had his cock out I stroked it. I guided it to my mouth and took him in. I wasted no time bobbing up and down on his ten-inch cock. Even though we were in the shade we were both glistening with perspiration. The warm humid ocean air combined with my impassioned sucking of him was causing the sweating.

I wanted to make him cum, and cum fast, so I put all my deep throat skills to work. Teasing his balls with my fingertips of my left hand my right stroking with my mouth, I was rewarded for the effort by getting jets of his cum shooting down my throat in short order.

Just as he started to cum the doorbell to our room rang. Jim was still groaning and looked that way, annoyed. He did not rush it but once he was done he put his cock away and gave me a kiss. I laid on the lounge chair looking out on the resort with my back to the room. Jim went to the door.

At the door was one of his team, Ron.  Ron is a good looking black man about six feet two inches, at one hundred and eighty pounds. He lives on the southwest side of Chicago and had been working with Jim for two years. Jim liked him and was helping him make inroads to rise on the corporate ladder.

He is quite a lady’s man. I have never seen him twice with the same woman. White, black, brown, yellow, or any other mix he likes them all. It also seems apparent they like him. I am fairly sure at least a couple were married by the untanned circle on a certain finger. However, I am not one to talk, I have stepped out quite a few times in my thirty years of marriage. 

Jim had left the door open so I could hear them talking. I heard Ron call, “Hi, Lynn.”

I turned and waved, trying to be careful to at least seem to appear not to let him see me naked. Ron was in a skintight wife-beater shirt and tight (around the impressive crotch area at least) board shorts. Being super horny from just sucking Jim off, I noticed that immediately.  My gaze lingered for a moment. When I turned back I blushed as I realized I was teasing my clit.

Jim came out a moment later and told me there was an emergency. He had to call back to the corporate office in Chicago. He had to run down to a small conference room with the team to make the call.  He told me to go ahead and go to the pool. He would find me there after his call.  Then, with one last appreciative lecherous look over my naked body, he winked and left. God, I love that man. Just got a blowjob and still turned on by me.

I put on a sexy micro bikini that featured triangle cups with cut-out panels and halter straps. The bottoms were low rise front, a thong back, and tied on the sides. It was a very revealing bikini, but I love to turn Jim on and I work hard on my figure and I do like to show it off. Once it was on, I headed down to the main pool.  Once there I set up and had a strong drink delivered.

I was on my third drink when Jim and Ron found me. I could tell something was wrong. Jim was swearing as he talked to Ron, something he almost never does. His eyes flaring, he quickly explained that one of the other senior vice-presidents was arrested for drunk driving and on top of it “resisted arrest” by yelling about his position with the corporation.  

He was immediately terminated but it was caught on YouTube. Jim had to catch a flight in three hours back to Chicago for an emergency board meeting. I started to get up to go pack, but he told me I could stay. It was already paid for. The rest of the team was staying. I was crushed. Plus, I was still horny.

I went with him to help him get his travel bag together. Ron went also to get instructions and review the corporation’s agenda for the conference. I could feel Ron’s eyes on me the entire time and I blushed as I realized I liked it. The three of us went to the resort entrance and the other two on the team met us there. Jim told them Ron was in charge. He did not order him to include me but told them I was basically his secretary at home and was in on almost all the subjects that were going to come up at the conference. He also told them, with a wry smile, that he had planned on me doing that here as well, so if they had any questions they could include me. Then we sent Jim on his way. 

Depressed, I told Ron I was going back to the pool and have some drinks. A little bit later he joined me, asking if it would be okay to do so and pick my brain. He told me the other two members were playing golf. I saw nothing wrong with it so he sat down.  

Ron explained more of what happened. I understood. I was not happy.  On the plus side, it also meant that Jim might be up for a promotion with the vacancy and he expected Jim to get it. Ron also added he hoped Jim would take him with him if he got the promotion. He was a great boss and mentor and was completely color blind.

Now he wanted to get up to speed to be the team leader and knew I was the best resource. I happily agreed, especially since it would suck to be alone right then. We started to drink and discuss the ideas, plans, and goals Jim had set up. This took quite a few drinks. Ron then laughed and said he had enough shop talk, plus we were buzzed. So we switched to social talk.  With all the booze in me, it didn’t take long for me to start asking about all the women we saw him with.

“So, Ron, were some of the women I saw you with married?” 

Laughing, he asked how I knew. I told him about the ring lines on their finger. He just shrugged, a bit arrogantly, and told me they had begged to see him. He was single so he went for it.

I laughed, and being buzzed I could not resist teasing him.

“Does the fact they're married white ladies make it better?”

He grinned, “Oh, hell yes! The married part because even if they fall in love with my cock they do not want any attachments." He shrugged, “As far as white? I love the contrast and let us leave it at that."

I blushed with the intense look he gave me when he answered. Plus, I was having a hard time believing I had just asked that and realized I must be drunker than I thought. I was about to tell myself to stop drinking when Ron ordered two shots of tequila.  When the waiter brought them, he grinned. “Cheers!”

I did not hesitate and the warning in my head was drowned out. Down they went. My eyes watered. Ron was about to ask something, and a sudden downpour hit. We ran to the building.

We found ourselves in the building our rooms were in. It looked like it would keep raining for a while. I heard myself saying, “We have a wet bar in our suite. And can sit on the balcony out of the rain. Why don’t you join me?” Telling myself he works for Jim. I can trust him.

He asked if it would be okay if he met me there. He wanted to get something from his room plus it would cause less talk if we left separately. I just handed him a room key. That way he would not have to stand in the hall. Then we separated. 

Entering the suite, I went straight to the bar and made a scotch rock. I took it to the balcony and had a seat at the table. The air was hot and super humid. It made the cold twenty-one-year-old scotch go down easy.  I should have not been drinking anymore, but I did. Getting lost in watching the rain, I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard Ron’s voice from behind me.

“If this isn’t okay that's fine, but please, if it's okay with you don’t tell your husband. He wouldn't care but would have to report it to the company.”

Confused I turned around and he had a couple of joints with him. I laughed and said it was our secret.

“Will you join me?”

I confessed I had not done weed since college. He smiled, telling me it was a perfect time. Neither one of us would tell. The booze had turned off any alarms that would tell me not to. I agreed it would be fun. So, we lit up.

We started talking again. Passing it back and forth. Somewhere in the growing relaxation and crumbling platonic barriers I moved and sat on the lounge with him. We did this so it was easier to pass the joint. Our bare thighs pressed together.  

Before I knew it happened he was leaning to the backrest of the lounge and I was leaning back into his chest. The mellowing effects of the weed combined with the stimulating effects of the scotch made it seem right.  I have no idea what we had been talking about but I brought it back to me asking about the married white ladies he screwed. 

“Who was your favorite?”

“Well, my ultimate married white lady I haven't had yet.” 

The humid air felt good. Beads of sweat streamed down us every so often as we finished the first joint.
 
Grinning, Ron interrupted me. “Baby, give me a chance. You've been asking all the questions. How about I get to ask some questions, say? We promise it's all confidential between the two of us and we must answer truthfully?”

Being buzzed from both booze and weed any inhibitions, any alarms, anything that would have told me this was a bad idea, was now muted and shoved to the farthest corner of my mind. So, I nodded and told him it was his turn. 

“Have you ever fantasized about fucking other men than Jim?”

I gawked, then giggled, “Oh, right for the jugular.” I squirmed, unaware as to the effect it had on him. “Well, yes. I have. I'm not dead.”

“Ever acted on it? Remember, we have to answer truthfully but never tell.”

Biting my lower lip, my mind was spinning about how to answer, but instead, I heard myself groan, “A few times, yes...”

“Has a black man ever seen you naked? Or have you been too chicken?”

“No, one hasn't, but not because I'm chicken.”

“Well, I know you aren’t a bigot, so why haven’t you?”

I had no answer. I had admitted I had cheated. The booze and weed made the normal function of my brain simply not function. In fact, the combination of the two was making me incredibly horny.

“Are you ashamed of your body? It's a great body.”

Protesting I announced I was proud of it. I worked out four or five times a week to stay in shape. I blurted out I did not even have tan lines and only four percent body fat.

“Then why are you too shy to show a black man?”

“I'm not too shy. Do you want to see me naked? I'll show you. Do you want me to show you?”

Instead of answering my question, I felt his left hand undo the top tie of my bikini. “Then tell me to take your top off for you.”

“Take my top off!”

The string holding the top came loose, falling as I felt his other hand undo the back. His left hand pulled it away as his right hand slid up over my right breast to the nipple as he squeezed it.  Shuddering I yelped.

His lips almost touched my ear. “Tell me you want to be naked with me, Lynn.” 

I nodded again.
    
“No, Lynn, I need you to say it.”
  
 “I want to be naked for you.”
 
Pinching my nipple harder he said, “Then take off your bottoms.”
 
I yelped louder but I raised my hips and peeled my thong down and kicked it off. I laid back naked between his legs as he wrapped his arms around me. Everything away from the room’s patio was dark from the storm; we were in our own erotic bubble.
    
“You are so turned on aren’t you, Lynn? You need to cum, don’t you?”

I groaned.
    
“Rub your pussy, baby. But do not cum!” he ordered.
 
I started to rub myself, moaning as I did. It seemed natural to obey him.
    
“Now, do you understand why all those women were with me? And I have not even taken my clothes off yet. Do you want to see my cock?”
 
I groaned one word. “Please!”  I was edging already, my body shining with sweat. 
    
“Beg me to show it to you.”
    
“Oh, baby, please. I'm begging you. Show me your big black cock, please show it to me.”
    
“What will you do for me?”
    
“Anything you want. Anything!”
  
“Do you want to give me a lap dance, baby?”
    
Not answering I just stood up. Turning to straddle him I started to do a very credible grinding lap dance while his hands on my ass spread my cheeks. I leaned forward, breasts to his mouth. His teeth bit at a nipple as one of his fingers found my asshole. I groaned as he pressed it in. The tip of his massive finger was as thick as some cocks. Shuddering, my tight butthole clenched his finger. Just before my knees gave out he pulled it out.
 
“If you want to see why so many married women fuck me, reach down and get it out, Lynn, assuming you aren't afraid to.”
    
Eagerly, I obeyed, undoing his drawstring. I reached in and gasped as I felt the thick member. Still soft it was already as thick as a Red Bull can. I started to stroke it. Feeling it grow, I moved back, bent over at the waist, and stared down at it, ass in the air.

Almost nine inches, an inch shorter than my husband, but DAMN was it thick. As it grew to full hardness it was as thick now as a beer can.
    
I was naked now on all fours over Ron on the lounge. Ron was fully dressed except for his very impressive cock sticking straight up. I had an up-close view staring down on it. I stroked it with one hand as if hypnotized.
  
 “Ever see one that big?”
 
“Jim’s is longer but yours is at least twice as thick. I would barely be able to get all that in my throat, but I could.”
    
Ron scoffed, telling me he did not believe me. I bristled insisting I could. He snorted again. 

“Only one of you married MILFs have come close.”
    
Still staring at it as well as stroking it, I asked who. He asked me if I remembered the redhead from the Christmas party.

I bristled. “That bitch? I hated her. She was such a stuck up...“ I just started sputtering. I hated her so much. “She strutted around and almost ruined the party.”
    
Ron laughed. “Yeah, but she was wild in bed and was the best cocksucker I have ever met.  You think you could do better?”
  
Rising up, I swallowed the bait, hook, line, and sinker. “Damn right, I could!” I snapped.
    
“Well, you're probably too shy to prove it.”
    
Not even answering I lowered my face to his crotch. My lips took the mushroom head into my mouth. My jaw widened. I thought I might have to dislocate it to get it in but kept working. I wasn’t going to let that red-headed bitch outdo me. Working more and more of it in, I was proud of what I had managed so far. But it was only half of it and I could barely breathe.

I paused to get used to it and without thinking I bobbed up and down an inch or so. I felt his hand on the back of my head and groaned. As I slid my mouth up and down I worked another half inch or so in each time. The back of my mind screamed for air. I fought gagging and could not completely stop it but kept going. Suddenly my nose was hitting his shaven pelvis. I did it. I had all of it in.

So happy with myself, as well as high and drunk, I just kept working it an inch up and down, still gagging a bit, but getting used to it. Without thinking my right hand started stroking along with my mouth, my left holding me up. Tasting the salt of his sweat mixed with his precum I worked it. My tongue teased the underside of that bulky rod of flesh.
    
No sense of time, I kept on enjoying that wonderful cock. Then, finally, I needed to catch my breath. I released him. Gasping for air my eyes were stinging as sweat beads run down my face. I looked up at him. “I did it. I beat the bitch.”
    
Grinning haughtily he asked, “Do you want more? Red could take it into her pussy but you wouldn’t dare do that would you?”
    
I started to get up but he stopped me. “You have to tell me you want me in you,” he said sternly, “or you can't do it. Of course, that means Red will have done something you were too cautious to do.
    
My eyes flared wide. I wouldn’t be outdone by that uppity slut. “I want you in my pussy!”
    
Not showing any emotion he replied, “No. I'm not sure you really do.”
    
“I want you to put your cock in my pussy.”
    
“Beg me for it, Lynn. Let me know you really want it in you.”
    
“Oh, fuck, Ron. I want you to fuck me. I want you to shove that thing into me. All of it. Don’t hold back. Fuck me with it.”
    
He pulled me up onto his body. I was straddling his hips, pussy hovering over the skyscraper-like cock. I had never felt anything like this. My husband is big, longer by an inch, but nowhere near the girth. Trembling, working it slowly in, I could not even speak coherently.

The wind from the storm was blowing hard. The rain came in onto our overheated bodies but it was nothing like the storm in my vagina. Suddenly I heard myself screaming, “Pull me down! Make me take it all!”
    
Ron’s massive rough hands on my hips held me. “Are you sure? Beg me to do it, baby.”
    
"Fucking do it! Please!"
    
Without anything further, his powerful arms jerked me down, impaling me on his cock. I screamed so loud the next building probably heard me over the storm. It felt like a truck had just jammed itself inside me and my body exploded in a massive overwhelming orgasm. I didn’t pass out but it was close. I convulsed on it, as my body slammed forward, my breasts smashing on his muscular chest. I found myself kissing him hard. My hips were grinding. His cock filled me erotically and painfully. I heard myself groaning into his mouth, “Fuck me.”
    
He gripped my waist and started lifting me and slamming me down like I was a rag doll. I kept cumming over and over. Suddenly he rolled over on top of me, keeping me fully impaled on him. Grabbing my hands, placing them over my head, he then pinned them with one hand. My legs wrapped around his waist, cock spearing me, he started a slow but dominant thrusting up into me. There was no question he now owned my body.    
    
I lost track of time with the overwhelming feeling of that massive sex rod sliding in and out of me. Slowly at first, the pace picking up faster and faster. Soon a rhythmic slapping staccato sound mingled with my screams and moans and Ron’s grunts. Rain and sweat ran down off him onto me.  At some point I was flipped onto all fours, his hands in my hair pulling my head back as the erotic abuse of my pussy continued.

In the fringes of my mind, I remember seeing a woman looking around the balcony wall, watching us and rubbing herself. Our eyes met. Then I felt his finger, the finger the size of a small cock, enter my asshole. My head tried to thrash but was held still, being made to keep eye contact with the other woman. All of it was a foggy living dream, blurry from weed, booze, and sex.
  
“I'm cumming,” I heard Ron growl out in the tone of a predator who just claimed his prey. I felt my pussy being filled with more cum than it had ever held before. My head fell forward and everything faded to blackness.    
    
I woke up slowly. I found myself in my bed. The TV was on with some ball game on. I realized Ron was sitting on the couch having a drink watching it. When he saw me awaken he walked over and handed me a drink of water. My body was still going from the orgasms I had. The weed and booze were beginning to wear off. 
    
I groaned but smiled, “God, you're a fucking sex god!”
    
“You ain't too shabby yourself.” Then with a grin, “At least in two out of three, you beat Red.”

I must have had a puzzled look on my face because he went on, “We still have to test your ass, assuming you're game.”

I laughed. “Well, we'll just have to rectify the discrepancy as soon as possible.”