This is a short story about a long weekend golfing in Spain with my best friend. It is factually true, and something I frequently replay in my mind. When Pete and I left Gatwick for Tenerife, little did we know what the long weekend have in store for us. We’d rented an apartment at a holiday golf resort just south of the airport on the Costa Silencio. As we struggled to get our golf clubs and our cases into the small rented car, the sky was clear and even in the late afternoon it was really hot. We had three full days of golf lined up, and with no wives, we intended to use our time to the full.
The apartment was a two bedroom affair, with a large sitting room with a small kitchenette, a large bathroom with both bath and shower, and the two bedrooms, both with king size beds. We unpacked and found one of the several restaurants, and tucked in to a good steak with plenty of red wine.
I’d known Pete ever since my University days, and he had been best man at my wedding and I had done the same for him at his. Our wives got on pretty well, and we usually met up once a month for a meal somewhere. He’d been there for me when my wife had cancer, giving me the moral support which I had been grateful for, having used all my strength up in helping my wife come to terms with her illness. Pete and Claire had come with us for a break in Las Vegas to celebrate my wife’s all clear, and though we were close, there had never been any hint or desire to be anything other than good friends with them. I knew that Pete had had a couple of affairs, which he had not told his Claire about, and he knew that I had a couple of “friends with benefits” over the last 10 years, though we hadn’t ever exchanged much detail.
When we got to the clubhouse the next morning, there were a couple of chaps who were a little younger than Pete and I who were looking for another couple to make up a 4-some, so we volunteered, and enjoyed a very close game, losing on the last hole. So it was down to us to buy the drinks, and we got friendly. Just as we were leaving to use the pool and take some late afternoon sun, one of them, Joe, said why don’t you join them for dinner, to which we agreed. That evening we met up, and were surprised to find that Joe had his wife with him, Ally, a little younger than him, I would have put her at late 30s or early 40’s, with a pretty smile, blonde hair, and a nice figure that she showed off to the best in a lime green tank top and a flowered skirt. She was tanned, and as far as I could tell, wore no bra. They were great company and the bottles of wine came and went, and somehow I helped Pete (or did he help me) back to our apartment.
It was a slow start to the next day, and by the time we were properly awake, we had missed out allotted starting time on the course. A swim and a sunbathe were the next order of the day before getting to the bar early for the hair of the dog. Who should be there but Ally, wearing a very small lime green bikini, contrasting beautifully with her tanned skin, and which showed every curve of her body off to perfection. Joe was away on business, so she was at a loose end. I looked at Pete and he looked at me, and with that unspoken communication born of long friendship, we set to entertain her, buying her several of her favourite cocktails. Soon she was sitting between us on a row of bar stools, and as she talked, she would put a hand on either my thigh or Pete’s, which as we were still wearing our swimming shorts, gave me a delightful frisson, and I could feel myself hardening. I told her she had a great figure, and she said that so she should have it cost Joe enough, and did I think her tits were good? I told her they were fantastic, so full yet tight, and she laughed, saying haven’t you ever seen or felt a really expensive boob job? One more drink, and she had both hands on our thighs, stroking each of us. She seemed to try to pull herself together, and taking her hands away, said that she probably ought to go to her room and sleep it off, so of course, chivalrous as ever, we both jumped of four stools, and offered to escort her safely there.
Her apartment was not too far from ours, and by the time we got there, she had her arms around our waists, her hand slipping down the back of my shorts. At her door, she opened it, and just said, “Come in boys!” Getting inside the door was not easy, three people don’t fit, and as we tried to do so, Pete and I managed to sandwich Ally between us, her body pressing against me, and I could swear that she was grinding her ass into Pete. We tumbled through, and she told us to get another drink while she went to change. I found the whisky, and the ice, but nothing else. I called out to Ally, asking where her gin was, but there was no reply. I called again, and still no reply, so I went to look for her. She was face down on her king size bed, stark naked, with her bikini thrown on the floor. I called to Pete to share the erotic scene, and the two of us simply stood there and admired the view.
I’m not sure which if us first put his hand down his shorts to stroke his cock, but I know I did and saw that Pete was doing the same. A minute or so later, we heard a giggling, and realised that Ally hadn’t passed out, she was teasing us, and had been looking at our reflection through half closed eyes. She turned round and told us to drop our shorts, after all we could see what she had and it was only fair.
That didn’t take long and with erect cocks pointing straight at her, she beckoned us closer, to hold and stroke each of us, kneeling beside her on the big bed. Again, I looked quickly at Pete, who winked his affirmation, and so she took her pleasures, sucking each of our cocks in turn. Pete’s was a bit shorter than mine at 7”, but probably a bit thicker, so all in all she had a variety to work on, and work them she did, spending a couple of minutes on each of us, sucking slowly deep, her tongue licking under the glans and following down the underside of my cock as it slid deeper.
As she sucked me, I grabbed hold of her left breast, savouring the fullness of it, although I did, even in my current state, think that it felt different to a natural breast, no worse, no better, just different. I saw that Pete followed my lead, as I stroked her nipple hard, and sucking it into my mouth, I followed that by stretching it long, twirling it between my fingers as I did. She had the most amazing long nipples, a full inch and a half, erect and very sensitive. The gulping of her throat on my cock, interrupted by the moans of pleasure from her breasts, forced even more blood into my already well extended organ, completely cutting of her airway.
Too soon, and red in the face she pushed me away, and told Pete to lie back, and she let go of me, to my disappointment, as she mounted him, guiding his fat cock into her dripping cunt. She told him not to move, as she rubbed hi cock up and down her pussy lips, before slowly engulfing it, and very slowly, with many squeezes of her muscles, finally ha dit deep inside her. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, and then as she broke away from his lips, she said, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten you, Chris, grab that lube from the table drawer, and get to work on my ass.”
It had been a while since I had enjoyed anal sex, so I went to work with enthusiasm, rubbing the tingly gel around her exposed tight rosebud, eventually sliding first one finger in, and then a second, stretching her, as she rode slowly up and down Pete’s cock, to his extreme pleasure from the sounds he was making. Once I had forced enough gel into her ass, and stretched her ring of muscle sufficiently, I squatted above her, and after sliding my cock between her fleshy ass cheeks, lubricating myself well, I pressed my cock head against her asshole, which had stayed open a little from my earlier finger fucking. My circumcised cock head entered with hardly a pop, reminding me that this was by no means the first time that asshole had been penetrated, and slowly pushed deep into her. When I was fully in, she picked up the pace, and literally gave Pete and me instructions as to what she wanted, where to push, when to slide out, when to stop, and kept up a running commentary on her orgasmic state. She knew what she wanted, and I know I was more than happy to follow her guidance and just enjoy myself in the process.
I found her talk so erotic that I had to really clench my muscles a couple of times to stop myself cumming, and as she picked up her pace, she started what was to be the most prolonged orgasm that I have ever been a part of. For nearly 10 minutes she controlled us so that she could keep on, just over, and then just back from, the edge until she bent forward and buried her teeth in Pete’s shoulder, growling all the time, and then started to utter a guttural scream, well, part a roar, part a scream, as her body writhed and pulsated. It was not only a fantastic sight, but also a fantastic feeling, so no surprise that I let go myself, my cock pulsating as my semen filled her anal cavity, and at the same time I felt through her pussy wall, the sensation of Pete’s cock discharging his load into her as well.
The day vanished into night, as Ally continued to orchestrate us to maximise her pleasure. She knew exactly when and how to breathe life into a limp cock, although because she had given Pete and I each a little blue tablet from her husband’s bedside table, we didn’t have limp cocks very often. It was the first time that I had tried chemical assistance, and it certainly worked well, my cock hardly ever being soft, although the amount of cum I was able to produce did diminish by the third or fourth time. Her technique of prostate massage blew me several times into a size that I hadn’t reached since I was in my late teens, and her focus on pure(?) pleasure itself was eroticism personified.
She was literally insatiable, and must have cum seven or more times before morning, when we called the restaurant and ordered champagne and strawberries for breakfast. Ally washed her first glass down with a small ejaculation from me, and her second with one from Pete. Then lying in bed between us, she stroked our cocks and said that she had had a great time, and that she hadn’t had such well matched men before. But that was it, no more, she said, she was faithful in spirit, if not in body, to Joe, and please would we not mention it again.
I played the worst round of golf ever afterwards, and Pete did little better. We were both totally knackered. Fucked out. Drained.
As we sat in the bar that evening, we reflected on the previous day, and took what Ally had said as a real compliment. Since then, we have “hunted” in a small pack of two and enjoyed other women, who have the same tastes as Ally. We no longer need “instructions” such as Ally had given us, in many ways it was the best tuition we could have had.
