Steve watched Carrie emerge from the turquoise sea, water sluicing down her body in rivulets. Her skimpy white bikini clung transparently to her skin, the fabric plastered against dark nipples that stood taut from the cool water. The triangle of fabric between her legs left nothing to imagination, revealing the smooth cleft of her shaved pussy with every stride through the shallows.

Several single men scattered across the beach turned their heads as she passed. One bronzed guy propped on his elbows froze mid-sip of his beer, his eyes tracking her from ankles to hairline. Another pretending to read a paperback let it sag in his lap, his gaze lingering on the sway of her hips.

Steve smiled faintly, not with jealousy but quiet pride. Each hungry glance felt like a compliment to his wife's effortless allure. She remained oblivious, squeezing seawater from her blonde ponytail as she approached their striped beach towel.

"Water's gorgeous," Carrie announced, shaking droplets onto Steve's legs. 

She stretched languidly, arching her back until her breasts strained against the wet fabric. 

"Saw a whole school of those silver fish near the rocks." 

Steve handed her a water bottle, his thumb brushing the damp skin of her waist. 

"You caused a minor traffic jam." He nodded toward the guy with the forgotten beer, now openly staring. 

Carrie followed his gaze and laughed—a bright, unselfconscious sound that turned more heads.

"Poor lad," she murmured, lowering herself onto the towel. 

Her thigh pressed against Steve's, warm from the sun. 

"Bet he wishes he'd packed binoculars." 

She took a long swig of the cool drink before leaning back on her elbows. The movement stretched the bikini bottom tighter across her pelvis, the fabric digging into smooth skin. Steve traced a fingertip along the inside of her knee, watching her lashes flutter closed.

Around them, the beach hummed with lazy energy—the shriek of gulls, distant reggae from a speaker, the rhythmic hiss of waves. Paradise, Steve thought. And entirely theirs. For now.

A shadow fell across them. Steve glanced up, squinting against the glare. It was the bronzed guy from earlier, clutching his beer bottle awkwardly. He flashed a too-wide smile, teeth startlingly white against his tan. 

"Sorry to bother you," he began, his accent thickly Spanish, eyes darting between Carrie's reclined form and Steve's face. 

"But... your wife? She dropped this." 

He held out a small, glinting object—Carrie's silver anklet, shaped like a delicate seashell. Carrie gasped, sitting up abruptly. The sudden motion made her bikini top shift, revealing a sliver of dark areola before she adjusted it.

"Oh! Thank you!" Carrie beamed, taking the anklet. 

Her fingers brushed his. The man lingered, shifting his weight. 

"You are staying at Las Dunas?" he asked, gaze lingering on Carrie's bare shoulder. 

Steve felt a prickle along his neck, subtle but sharp. Before he could answer, Carrie nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yes! Villa seven. It's gorgeous." 

The man grinned. 

"Ah, I work there. Pool maintenance. Miguel."

He paused, eyes sweeping appreciatively over Carrie again. 

"Perhaps I'll see you later? For a drink?" The invitation hung in the salty air, blatant and charged.

Steve leaned back, propped on one elbow. He watched Miguel's gaze trace the curve of Carrie's hip where her bikini bottom cut deep. A slow, deliberate smile spread across Steve's face. ‘Let him look,' he thought. ‘Let him want.‘ 

"A drink sounds perfect," Steve agreed smoothly, his voice easy. 

He kept his eyes locked on Miguel's hungry stare. 

"Sunset? The terrace bar."

 Miguel nodded eagerly. 

"Sí! Excellent." 

Steve’s smile widened, sharpening at the edges. 

"And Carrie..." He turned to his wife, whose eyes widened slightly. "...I’m sure you can think of a proper thank you for Miguel finding your anklet." 

He let the implication hang, thick as honey.

Carrie’s breath hitched. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, then deliberately eased apart. The wet white fabric clung obscenely, plastered against her skin. The dark, smooth cleft of her pussy was unmistakable, a stark shadow against the sheer fabric. Miguel’s knuckles whitened around his beer bottle. She tilted her head, a blush creeping up her neck. 

"Oh, I definitely can," she murmured, her voice low and smoky. 

Her fingers toyed with the anklet Miguel had returned. She slid it slowly onto her ankle, drawing out the movement, letting Miguel’s gaze devour the line of her calf, the arch of her foot. 

"Something... memorable."

Miguel swallowed hard. 

"I... look forward," he stammered, tearing his eyes away with visible effort. 

He backed up a step, nearly stumbling on the sand. 

"Sunset!" he blurted before turning and striding quickly toward the resort path. 

The outline of his thick semi-erection strained against the tight blue Speedo, impossible to miss as he walked away.

The moment Miguel vanished behind the dunes, Carrie collapsed back onto the towel with a shaky laugh. 

"Jesus, Steve," she breathed, pressing a hand to her chest. Her heart hammered against her ribs. 

"He was practically drooling." She glanced sideways at her husband, her eyes dark and glittering. 

"And you... encouraging him." 

She shifted, letting her legs fall open again. The sun-warmed terrycloth rasped against her inner thigh. 

"That bulge..." She trailed off, biting her lip. 

"Bigger than the boy in the dunes?" Steve chuckled, low and possessive. 

He traced a fingertip along the damp edge of her bikini bottom, right where it met the bare swell of her hip. 

"We'll find out tonight, won't we?" His touch drifted lower, grazing the sheer fabric stretched taut over her mound. Carrie arched into it, a soft gasp escaping her. 

"God, yes," she whispered. The heat pooling low in her belly wasn't just from the sun. It was anticipation, raw and electric. 

Miguel’s stunned, lust-filled face flashed in her mind. The dunes boy had been thrillingly rough, urgent. Miguel promised something slower, more deliberate. She shivered. Sunset couldn't come fast enough.

***

The terrace bar at Las Dunas was perched on stilts above the dunes, offering panoramic views of the ocean swallowing the fiery sun. Miguel arrived promptly, freshly showered, smelling faintly of chlorine and coconut oil. He wore crisp white shorts and a nervous smile. 

Steve ordered a pitcher of sangria, the deep red liquid sloshing against ice cubes. Carrie, perched on a high stool, wore a flimsy yellow sundress that clung to every curve. Miguel’s eyes kept straying to the outline of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric. 

Conversation flowed awkwardly at first – Miguel’s halting English, Steve’s smooth questions about the island, Carrie’s bright laughter punctuating the pauses. As the sangria dwindled, replaced by icy mojitos, the stiffness melted. Miguel relaxed, his gaze lingering longer on Carrie’s bare shoulders, her throat, the way the sundress rode up her thighs when she shifted. The air thickened with unspoken promise. 

Steve watched Miguel watch his wife, a slow, satisfied smile playing on his lips. The buzz wasn't just from the rum; it was the crackle of tension, the shared secret hanging between them.

"Pool's still warm," Steve declared, standing abruptly as the last sliver of sun vanished. His voice was slightly slurred, eyes bright. Miguel nodded eagerly. 

Carrie followed them down the winding path to their secluded villa pool, the scent of night-blooming jasmine heavy in the air. Lanterns cast flickering golden light on the turquoise water. 

Miguel hovered poolside, mesmerized as Carrie reached behind her neck. With a fluid shrug, the yellow sundress slithered down her body, pooling at her feet. She stood revealed in nothing but sheer, lacy white lingerie – a bra that barely contained her breasts, panties that were little more than a whisper of fabric. The water lapped at her ankles as she stepped down into the pool. 

"Oh!" she gasped softly as the cool water hit her skin. 

Miguel stared, transfixed. The lace darkened instantly, clinging like a second skin. Her nipples, hard and dark, pressed visibly against the transparent bra cups. The panties dissolved into near-invisibility, rendering the smooth mound beneath and the shadowed cleft starkly visible through the water's distortion. 

Steve didn't look at Miguel. He only watched Carrie, his breath catching. She turned slowly, water swirling around her waist, her eyes locking onto Miguel’s awestruck face. 

"Coming in?" she murmured, her voice husky.

Steve didn't hesitate. With a swift, decisive motion, he kicked off his sandals and peeled off his shirt and shorts. Naked, he stepped into the pool, the water rippling around his thighs. Carrie gasped softly, turning towards him. He moved behind her, pressing his bare chest against her slick back, his arms encircling her waist. His lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, kissing, nipping gently. Carrie arched back against him, her head falling onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed for a second before snapping open, fixed on Miguel. Steve’s hands slid possessively up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through the soaked lace. 

Miguel stood frozen at the pool's edge, his gaze glued to Carrie’s near-naked body pressed against Steve’s. Then, with trembling hands, Miguel pushed down his white shorts. He stood naked under the lantern light. Carrie’s gasp was sharp, genuine this time. Miguel’s cock hung thick and heavy between his legs, impossibly long, flushed dark, heavily veined, swaying slightly with his movement – easily the size and heft of a small forearm. 

Steve froze mid-kiss against Carrie’s neck, his eyes widening. A stunned silence fell, broken only by the gentle splash of water. Carrie’s lips parted, her gaze locked on Miguel’s imposing length. A thrill shot through her, hot and sharp, mixed with a flicker of genuine apprehension. Could she? Would she? Miguel stepped into the water, the monstrous shaft bobbing obscenely as he descended the steps towards them.

Steve recovered first, his grip tightening on Carrie’s waist. He leaned close, his voice a low, commanding rasp against her ear. 

"Show him your gratitude, darling." 

Carrie shuddered, the command sending a fresh wave of heat pooling low in her belly. She pushed away from Steve’s embrace, her movements fluid, deliberate. She closed the small distance separating her from Miguel. 

The water lapped at her waist. Miguel’s eyes were wide, dark pools of disbelief and raw hunger fixed on her face. Carrie didn’t hesitate. She reached out, her hands sliding up Miguel’s slick chest, over his shoulders, and locked behind his neck. She pulled herself flush against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her hips aligning with his. Then she tilted her head up and offered her open mouth. Miguel groaned, a deep, guttural sound, and crushed his lips to hers. The kiss was immediate, desperate, wet. 

Miguel’s hands clamped onto her hips, fingers digging into the lace of her panties. Carrie moaned into his mouth, her tongue tangling fiercely with his. Miguel’s cock, thick and rigid, pressed insistently against her lower belly, trapped between their bodies, a hot brand even through the cool water. Steve watched, transfixed, his own arousal surging. 

Miguel’s hands slid lower, gripping Carrie’s ass, pulling her tighter against him, grinding his huge erection against her mound. Carrie’s hips rocked instinctively, seeking friction against the hard ridge trapped against her skin. Her kisses grew wilder, deeper, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. Miguel broke the kiss only to trail hot, wet kisses down her throat, his teeth grazing her collarbone. Carrie gasped, arching her back, pushing her breasts against his face. Miguel buried his face in the wet lace covering her cleavage, groaning.

Steve moved silently through the water behind Carrie. His hands settled gently on her hips, steadying her trembling form as Miguel devoured her neck. His hands were everywhere – kneading her ass, sliding up her spine, tangling in her hair. Steve’s fingers found the delicate knot securing the thin lace strap of Carrie’s thong at her hip. With a deft flick, he untied it. The lace loosened instantly. He slid his fingers under the other strap at her opposite hip, finding the knot and pulling it free. The sheer scrap of fabric floated away from Carrie’s hips, drifting lazily towards the surface.

Miguel gasped against Carrie’s throat, his hands instantly sliding down to cup her bare ass cheeks, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh. Carrie cried out, pressing herself harder against Miguel’s chest. Steve didn’t pause. His hands moved upwards, tracing the wet skin of Carrie’s back beneath her long ponytail. He found the clasp of her bra nestled between her shoulder blades. With a soft ‘click‘, the clasp released. Steve gently peeled the soaked lace cups away from Carrie’s breasts. The bra floated free, joining the panties on the water’s surface. 

Miguel pulled back slightly, his eyes dropping hungrily to Carrie’s now completely bare breasts. They glistened under the lantern light, full and heavy, her dark nipples hard and pebbled. Miguel groaned again, a sound of pure worship, and dipped his head, taking one taut peak into his mouth, sucking hard. Carrie arched violently, crying out, her hands gripping Miguel’s shoulders for support. Steve pressed close behind her, his own hard length sliding against the cleft of her bare ass. He kissed the side of her neck, his hands roaming possessively over her bare stomach and hips, feeling the frantic tremors running through her. Miguel switched breasts, his tongue swirling, teeth grazing. Carrie was suspended between them, utterly exposed, Miguel’s massive cock grinding against her belly, Steve’s pressing against her backside, Miguel’s mouth claiming her breasts. The water churned around them.

Carrie’s hand slid down Miguel’s slick stomach, her fingers trailing through coarse hair. Her breath hitched as her fingers wrapped around the base of Miguel’s cock. Her fingers couldn’t meet; the sheer girth was astonishing. She used both hands, palms slick with water, to massage the immense shaft under the surface. Her thumbs rubbed the thick ridge of the underside, her fingers working the pulsing length. Miguel gasped, breaking his suction on her nipple, his head falling back. 

“Sí, sí, eso se siente bien," he rasped. 

Carrie guided the swollen, plum-sized head towards her entrance. She angled her hips, pressing back against Steve for leverage. With a soft gasp, she eased herself onto the tip. The stretch was immediate, intense. She held herself there, letting her body adjust to the impossible thickness invading her. Miguel shuddered, his hands tightening on her hips. Carrie began to move. She pumped his shaft slowly with both hands, sliding the head just inside her, then easing it back out, creating a slick, rhythmic friction. Miguel groaned, burying his face in her neck, sucking hard, leaving darkening marks on her delicate skin. His hips jerked instinctively, pushing deeper, but Carrie controlled the pace with her hands on his shaft, keeping him shallow, teasing them both. 

Steve slipped silently out of the pool, water cascading down his body. He grabbed a stack of thick, fluffy white towels from a nearby basket. He spread them generously over one of the huge, padded sun loungers beside the pool, creating a soft, inviting bed. He turned back to the water, his gaze intense. 

“Carrie,” he commanded, his voice low and resonant. 

“Bring him.” 

Carrie met Steve’s eyes. Holding Miguel’s slick, throbbing shaft firmly in both hands, she began to walk slowly backwards towards the pool steps. Miguel followed instantly, mesmerized, his eyes locked on hers, his cock held captive in her grasp. Water streamed down their bodies as they ascended the steps. Carrie led Miguel onto the warm tiles, never releasing her grip on his immense erection. 

She guided him towards the towel-covered lounger where Steve stood waiting, his own arousal evident. Miguel’s breath came in ragged gasps, his gaze flickering between Carrie’s determined face and the luxurious bed awaiting them. Carrie stopped before Steve, Miguel looming behind her, his cock still held firmly in her hands. Steve’s eyes burned with possessive approval. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Carrie gently pushed Miguel backwards. He sank gratefully onto the soft towels, his huge shaft instantly springing upwards, rigid and impossibly thick, flushed dark purple, standing straight up like a monstrous monument against his stomach. The veins pulsed visibly under the lantern light. Carrie straddled his hips, her knees sinking into the plush towels on either side of his thighs. She leaned forward, placing her hands flat on Miguel’s chest. She looked up at Steve, her eyes wide, her voice breathless. 

“Gonna need baby oil.” 

Steve’s grin was predatory. 

“On it.” 

He turned and strode purposefully towards the villa’s sliding glass doors, disappearing inside in search of the lubricant.

The moment the door clicked shut, Carrie leaned down. She pressed her open mouth against the swollen, plum-sized head of Miguel’s cock. She worked her tongue furiously, swirling it around the sensitive ridge, coating the thick crown with as much saliva as she could draw from her mouth. Miguel groaned, arching his back, his hands flying to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. 

“Sí, sí, más…” he gasped. 

Carrie lifted herself slightly, positioning her slick entrance directly over the saliva-coated head. She locked eyes with Miguel, seeing the raw hunger burning there. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself slowly, deliberately. The saliva provided just enough slickness for the enormous head to breach her tight opening. She gasped, her inner muscles clenching instinctively against the sudden, intense stretch. She sank down further, feeling the thick veins pulsing against her sensitive walls, the sheer girth forcing her open inch by inch. She managed to mount him halfway, her body trembling with the effort and the overwhelming sensation. 

Miguel’s hands shot upwards, large palms engulfing her breasts. He squeezed hard, kneading the soft flesh, pinching her stiff nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending sharp jolts of pleasure-pain through her. Carrie began to move. She bent gently at her knees, rising slowly until only the thick head remained inside her, then sinking back down onto the incredible length. She rode him in this shallow rhythm, feeling the pulsing veins drag against her inner walls with each rise and fall. 

Miguel’s hips bucked upwards, trying to drive deeper, but Carrie controlled the pace, her thighs burning with the effort of managing his size. His groans filled the night air, mingling with her own sharp, breathy gasps. She felt stretched impossibly wide, filled beyond belief, every nerve ending screaming. Miguel’s hands never stopped working her breasts, his touch rough and possessive. Carrie threw her head back, riding the thick post beneath her, her body already slick with sweat and pool water, awaiting the oil, awaiting Steve’s return, awaiting the impossible plunge deeper onto Miguel’s monstrous shaft.

The sound of Steve’s feet slapping wetly across the tiles was a welcome interruption. He stopped abruptly, the bottle of baby oil clutched in his hand. His gaze fixed on the scene before him: Carrie impaled halfway on Miguel’s colossal cock, her body gleaming under the lanterns, her breasts bouncing as she moved. Miguel’s hands were buried in her flesh, his hips lifting off the lounger slightly with each shallow thrust upwards. It was easily the biggest cock Steve had ever seen her take – thicker, longer, more intimidating than the dunes boy. 

The sight was breathtakingly obscene, Carrie’s body stretched taut around the immense girth. The urgency for the lube became instantly, vitally clear. Steve stepped forward, uncapping the bottle with a sharp twist. He stood directly above them, looking down at the straining connection between his wife and her lover. Without hesitation, he tilted the bottle. A thick, clear stream of oil cascaded down Carrie’s back and shoulders. It flowed in rivulets over her spine, catching the golden lantern light and making her skin shimmer. 

The oil pooled in the small of her back before streaming down the cleft of her ass cheeks. Miguel gasped beneath her as the cool liquid hit his thighs and belly. Carrie cried out as the oil instantly slicked the shaft buried deep within her, easing the friction dramatically. Steve emptied the entire bottle, coating Carrie’s back and Miguel’s lower abdomen in a glistening sheen.

Emboldened by the sudden lubrication, Carrie took a shuddering breath. She placed her hands firmly on Miguel’s chest for leverage. Slowly, deliberately, she began to sink down further. The oil allowed the massive cock to slide deeper with less resistance, though the stretch remained profound, almost unbearable. Miguel groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure ecstasy, his hands tightening on her hips, urging her down. Carrie bit her lip, focusing, her inner muscles relaxing incrementally as she descended. Inch by agonizing inch, she sheathed Miguel’s entire length. She felt the heavy swell of his balls finally press against her slick entrance as she settled fully onto him. 

A low moan escaped her lips; she was impossibly full, stretched to her absolute limit. She paused, letting her body adjust to the sheer enormity buried deep inside her. Then, tentatively, she began to move. A gentle back-and-forth rocking motion, feeling the oil-slicked pole slide within her, testing the newfound ease. Finding her rhythm, she leaned forward, pressing her oiled breasts flat against Miguel’s chest. 

With his cock buried to the hilt, Carrie began a slow, deliberate grind. She rolled her hips in a circular motion, feeling the thick shaft move deep inside her, the oily friction creating exquisite sensations. Miguel’s hands slid up her slippery back, holding her close as she moved against him, his breath hot and ragged against her neck. Carrie kept her eyes locked on Steve, standing above them, his own arousal evident as he watched his wife master the monstrous cock beneath her.

Steve watched Carrie’s oiled ass move with hypnotic grace. Each circular grind showcased the flex of her muscles, the slick sheen catching the lantern light, making her skin glow. The sight was primal, mesmerizing – his wife riding Miguel’s immense shaft with a newfound confidence fueled by the lubrication. Her movements were deliberate, sensual, a slow burn of mounting pleasure. 

Miguel’s groans grew louder, his hands roaming Carrie’s slippery back, lost in the sensation. Steve’s own cock throbbed insistently. He couldn't wait any longer. Stepping forward, Steve positioned himself behind Carrie, straddling the lounger above Miguel’s legs. He gripped Carrie’s oil-slick hips firmly, his thumbs pressing into the dimples above her ass. With a low growl, he guided his straining erection into the deep groove between her glistening cheeks. 

Carrie gasped as Steve’s thick cock slid smoothly along the cleft of her ass, the cool oil contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from both men. Steve pressed forward, burying himself fully against her, his cock nestled snugly in the slippery valley. He matched Carrie’s slow, grinding rhythm, his hips moving in sync with hers, his shaft rubbing firmly against her sensitive skin with each motion.

Carrie cried out, overwhelmed. The dual sensations were intense – Miguel’s colossal cock stretching her core impossibly wide, filling her completely, while Steve’s thick shaft slid relentlessly against her ass, creating a maddening friction. She arched her back, pressing her ass harder against Steve, wanting more pressure, more friction. Miguel groaned beneath her, his hips lifting instinctively, driving his cock deeper as Carrie rocked. The oil amplified every movement, turning their connection into a slick, sensual dance. 

Steve leaned forward, draping himself over Carrie’s back. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, tasting the mingled sweat and oil. His hands slid possessively around her waist, fingers finding her slick clit. He began to circle it firmly, adding another layer of intense sensation. Carrie whimpered, her grinding rhythm faltering slightly as pleasure crashed over her. Miguel felt her inner muscles clench rhythmically around his shaft, triggering his own desperate thrusts upwards. Steve’s cock slid faster against her ass, driven by the frantic motion beneath him. The air filled with the sounds of their mingled gasps, groans, and the slick slap of skin on skin. Carrie felt herself hurtling towards the edge, suspended between her husband’s commanding presence behind her and Miguel’s overwhelming fullness inside her. Miguel’s grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts becoming urgent, ragged. 

"Carrie..." Miguel gasped, his voice thick with need, his control visibly fraying. "I... ‘no puedo...‘"

Steve wrapped a hand around to cup his wife's breast, squeezing the soft, oil-slicked flesh, pinching her hard nipple. With his free hand, he guided his cock to the tight entrance of her ass. Carrie bit her lip in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back slightly as she felt the blunt pressure. She gasped a throaty moan as her husband pushed steadily, breaching her tight ring. The stretch was sharp, intense, merging with the deep fullness Miguel provided. The sensation of two thick shafts pounding her lower body was exquisite – a symphony of overwhelming pressure and friction. She instinctively settled into a rhythm that accommodated both, rocking back onto Steve while grinding down onto Miguel. Steve groaned deeply, feeling Miguel’s immense shaft sliding powerfully inside Carrie. It rubbed directly along his own cock, separated only by a thin wall of skin. The sensation was one of pure delight – hot, intimate, profoundly erotic. Miguel cried out, his hips pistoning upwards wildly, his huge cock pulsing violently inside Carrie as he reached his climax.

Miguel’s orgasm hit Carrie like a physical blow. The thick shaft inside her throbbed powerfully, pulsing against her sensitive walls. She felt the hot jets deep within her core. Miguel cried out, his fingers digging into her hips, his body rigid beneath her. Carrie gasped, her own climax building rapidly, triggered by Miguel’s pulsing release. Steve felt Miguel’s cock thumping powerfully against his own shaft through Carrie’s body. The rhythmic, urgent pressure was too much. With a guttural roar, Steve slammed deep into Carrie’s ass, his own orgasm erupting violently. Hot seed flooded Carrie’s passage as Steve pumped powerfully, his cock pulsing in time with Miguel’s deep within her core. Carrie screamed, her body convulsing violently between them. The dual pulsing cocks deep inside her – Miguel’s immense shaft filling her core and Steve’s thick length buried in her ass – triggered wave after wave of intense orgasm. Her inner muscles clenched and fluttered wildly around both invading shafts, milking them simultaneously. Her scream echoed across the pool terrace, raw and primal.

Carrie collapsed forward onto Miguel’s slick chest, utterly spent. Miguel groaned weakly beneath her, his softening cock still buried inside her. Steve slumped over her back, his softening length slipping free from her ass with a slick sound. They lay tangled, breathing raggedly, a heap of oil-slicked limbs and sweat-dampened skin on the towel-covered lounger. 

The night air felt cool against their heated bodies. Miguel’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Carrie lay draped across him, her face buried against his neck, trembling slightly. 

Steve pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade, his hand resting possessively on her hip. Miguel stirred slightly beneath Carrie. He opened his eyes, meeting Steve’s gaze over Carrie’s shoulder. A slow, satisfied smile spread across Miguel’s face. Steve returned it, a silent understanding passing between them. 

Miguel gently eased Carrie off him. She rolled limply onto her side between them, her eyes heavy-lidded, a blissful smile touching her lips. Miguel stood unsteadily, his legs trembling slightly. He grabbed a towel and began wiping the oil and sweat from his body, his movements slow, deliberate. He glanced back at Carrie, Steve’s arm draped protectively over her waist.

Miguel dressed quickly in his crisp white shorts, his movements efficient now. He paused beside the lounger, looking down at Carrie. 

"Gracias, señorita," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. 

He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Carrie smiled sleepily up at him. 

"No, Miguel," she whispered. "Thank you." 

Miguel straightened, nodded respectfully at Steve, who watched him with a satisfied glint in his eye, and then turned, disappearing silently into the night towards the staff quarters. Steve scooped Carrie up effortlessly. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, nestling her head against his shoulder. He carried her through the sliding glass doors into the cool, dimly lit villa. He laid her gently on the soft, clean sheets of their large bed. 

Steve fetched a warm washcloth, tenderly wiping away the remnants of oil, sweat, and Miguel’s release from Carrie’s trembling thighs and belly. She sighed contentedly, her eyes drifting closed as he cleaned her. He then quickly wiped himself down before slipping into bed beside her. The sheets were cool and crisp against their skin. Steve pulled Carrie close, spooning her from behind, his arm draped securely over her waist. Her breathing was deep and even, bordering on sleep.

Carrie stirred slightly. She turned within his embrace, facing him in the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds. Her eyes, though heavy-lidded, were alert, searching his face. She traced a finger lightly down his chest. 

"Steve?" Her voice was a husky whisper, barely audible in the quiet room. 

He hummed softly in response, tightening his arm around her. Carrie leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear. Her next words sent a jolt of pure electricity through him. 

"That was incredible," she breathed, her voice thick with lingering arousal and something else – anticipation. 

"Miguel... he was amazing." She paused, letting the words hang in the air. 

Her finger traced a slow circle on his skin. 

"But..." 

She looked up, meeting his eyes directly in the gloom. Her whisper was deliberate, laden with promise. 

"I think it's about time I get to see you fucking another woman."