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Cancun

"It was her vacation too... and by God, she was going to enjoy it."

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Author's Notes

"It's the middle of winter, so I just thought I would take your mind off the cold with a tale of one of my past summer vacations. <p> [ADVERT] </p> Just this weekend, I finished booking travel plans for a similar vacation,... so, this memory was on my mind."

Friday, July 20th, 2001

The sun beat down on Heather’s bare skin.  It was hot and it was humid. She had started sweating the moment she had stepped off the airplane two days ago, and hadn’t stopped since. 

The only time she felt remotely comfortable was when she was wearing her bikini—as she was now.  It wasn’t much of a bikini either. She’d bought it, especially for this trip. “If I’m going to be on the beach in Cancun, I’m going to do it right,” she had told her mother when she made the purchase.  The first time she’d stepped out of her hotel room wearing it, both of her parents had assumed scandalous expressions—as if she was trying to go to the beach in the nude (which she would have done if the beach rules allowed it).

Heather glanced down at her tummy, and the considerable amount of bare skin below her tummy as well.  She absentmindedly fiddled with her new belly-button piercing. It had been her birthday present to herself, something she’d wanted to do for years.

She didn’t really care what her parents thought.  After all, she was twenty-four years old, and she wasn’t about to let them tell her how to dress anymore.  If it was up to her mother, she’d probably still be wearing a one-piece bathing suit with a little skirt around the bottom.  Hell, if it was up to her father, she’d probably be wearing sweatpants and a coat—and maybe a veil while he was at it—and a chastity belt.

Her parents had sprung this “vacation” idea on her in the early spring. “Do you want to go to Cancun with us?” her mother had asked. Heather had hesitated for a long time.  Cancun was near the top of her list of ‘places I’d like to go for vacation’, but she did not want to go with her parents.  Especially now that she was an adult, and had been living on her own for a couple of years.

She couldn’t think of anything more awkward than being in a tropical paradise, yet, constantly accompanied by her parents.  She knew this would be made even more awkward by the fact that the resort they were staying at was all-inclusive, meaning free-flowing alcohol.  Yet, with her parents in tow, would she truly be able to enjoy that?

In the end, though, the prospect of a free vacation (her parents insisted on paying for everything) was too alluring.  She would deal with it, somehow. After a couple of lengthy conversations with her best friend, Tracy, she finally made her decision to go.

“Fuck your parents,” Tracy had said. “Well, not literally, of course,” she quipped.  “But, you know what I mean—just go down there and be yourself.  It’s your vacation too. Have a good time. Do what you want to do—and who you want to do,” she had added, half-jokingly.

Fortunately, Heather’s parents had at least had enough sense to understand that Heather was indeed twenty-four, and not sixteen.  They had sprung for two hotel rooms. This was one of Heather’s earliest reservations. She could not even begin to imagine sleeping in the same room with her parents, “family-vacation style”.

Thus far, the vacation had been pleasurable, yet mildly uneventful. They had eaten some good food, and Heather had consumed a fair few margaritas and some other fruity mixed drinks.  These were not usually her style, but she decided since she was on vacation, at a beach, she might as well play the part.  Her parents had largely respected her privacy.

She had gone out to dinner with them, and taken some photos with them, but other than that, they were content to allow her to do her own thing.  She had spent most of her time lounging on the beach, working on her tan, or next to one of the resort’s pools—or actually in the pool. She’d been in the ocean a few times, but didn’t care for it much—too smelly, too salty, too many sharp things on the bottom.

But the beach was nice.  Heather liked the beach quite a lot, actually.  She enjoyed watching the waves roll in and lap against the shore.  She enjoyed the combination of the sun and the breeze caressing her moist skin.  She’d even gotten used to the strong ocean smell that saturated the air.

She also enjoyed watching the people.  There were little kids building sandcastles, parents trying to take pictures, guys trying to strut their stuff and show off, and lots of other girls looking good in bikinis (and quite a few who didn’t look so good in their bikinis… and a few that shouldn’t have been wearing swimsuits at all).

As Heather leaned back and adjusted the straps of her top, she couldn’t help but think she was running out of time.  Here she was, in Cancun, and she hadn’t even come close to ‘hooking up’ with a guy (or a girl). She’d had a few conversations, idle chit-chat, things like that, but nothing more than a few attempts at flirting.

Heather was not the type to try and score with a random stranger.  She never had been. But during the buildup to this vacation, she had occasionally allowed herself to fantasize about the possibility.  She knew that it was virtually impossible, especially with the parents potentially around every corner—but still… she couldn’t help but imagine “what if”.  Of course, she knew that the reality of such an encounter could never live up to the fantasy she created in her mind, but it was still fun to dream about.

And now, here it was Friday and getting late in the day.  She and her parents were going to be leaving tomorrow afternoon.  If it was going to happen, she needed to make it happen soon.

Heather was snapped out of her reverie when she heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Excuse me, are you finished with these cups?” a resort employee asked.

“Wh—what?” Heather asked, slipping her sunglasses off to see who was speaking to her.

“These cups?” the man asked again.  As he spoke, he pointed to a pile of cups near Heather’s chair that quite clearly didn’t belong to her.

“Oh yes, of course, you can take them,” she said, examining the worker a little closer.  He was a young black man, muscular and handsome. He had a nice smile and Heather instantly felt a surge of attraction.

“Did you drink all these yourself?” he asked jokingly.

Heather laughed.  “Good Lord, no, I’d be wasted if I drank that much.”

He chuckled and his face broke into a huge grin, revealing his gleaming white teeth.  “That’s what vacation is for, isn’t it?” He spoke with a slight accent that she couldn’t quite place, but his English was quite good.

He scooped up the cups so he could return them to the snack bar and turned away.  Heather caught herself staring as the young man made his way back across the beach.  He returned a few minutes later and began picking up beach chairs and stacking them against a nearby wall.

“We’re just picking up all the spares,” he explained, “You stay right there as long as you like.”

As the worker and his fellow employees continued their task of picking up chairs, Heather watched over the tops of her sunglasses.  Every time he would bend down or lift up a chair, the muscles in his arms would flex, and show off his sculpted figure. Occasionally, he would turn and catch her eye and smile.  Heather wasn’t sure if he was checking her out, or if he was wondering why she kept staring at him. Either way, the frequent eye contact seemed to be agreeable to both of them.

After all the empty chairs had been stored away he finally approached her, sitting on one lone chair that he had left right next to Heather.

“Hello, my name is Jimar, what is yours?” he introduced himself as he sat down, resting his hands on his knees in an awkward manner.

Heather introduced herself and the two chatted for a moment.  He asked Heather where she was from, and Heather asked him how long he had been working at the resort.

“Four years,” he explained, “ever since my family arrived in Cancun.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from Mexico,” Heather observed.  “Where did your family come from?”

“We are originally from Jamaica—” he started, but that was as far as he got.

“Jimar!” a voice yelled from somewhere behind Heather.  “Hurry up! We need you.”

Jimar looked sheepishly embarrassed for a moment, as if he had forgotten he was supposed to be working.  “Well, perhaps I will see you later, Heather,” he said hopefully. “If not, enjoy the rest of your stay with us.”  He stood up to leave and then added, “There is a nightclub at the resort. It’s open every night from eleven o’clock to three o’clock.  I think you would enjoy it.”

Heather smiled.  “I might check it out tonight,” she said.  After Jimar had left her, she suddenly noticed just how late it was getting.  She was supposed to meet her parents for dinner at eight o’clock, and she still needed to shower and change her clothes.  She quickly collected her belongings and jogged back to her room.

Forty-five minutes later, she was showered and changed into a light purple sundress.  She knocked on the door to her parents’ room, which was the room right next to her own.  Her mother opened the door and the three left together to go eat.

Dinner that evening was good, but uneventful, and at about ten o’clock that evening, Heather once again found herself alone.  Her parents had decided that they would stop and watch one of the performances put on by the resort, but Heather had seen enough of those on the previous nights.  She was worn out and ready to turn in.

She took the long way back to her room, checking out the pool (which looked awesome lit up at night), the fountains, and the well-manicured gardens throughout the resort.  It was quiet and she only saw a few people milling about as she walked.

She finally made it back to her room and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top—her usual attire for sleeping.  Heather crawled into bed and slipped under the damp sheets. The high levels of humidity made everything feel damp. She never could quite get used to it.  She took her book from the nightstand and began reading.

She’d been reading for about an hour when she heard the sound of her parents opening and closing their door, indicating that they had finally left the show and come back to their room.  She slapped her book against her knees in frustration. “What a way to end my vacation in Cancun. Going to bed an hour before my parents, reading,” she scolded herself. “I’m twenty-four years old, for crying out loud!”

She read one more page and dropped her book once more.  “Fuck this. I’m gonna check out that night club.” With that, she threw the sheets away from her and crawled out of bed.  A moment later, Heather was changed back into the little purple sundress she had worn to dinner that evening. She thought it might be perfect to go to a club in.  It cut off mid-thigh, showing off her legs, which she had always thought of as her best asset.

She slipped out the door, peeking out first, just to make sure her parents weren’t standing right there for some reason.  They weren’t, and she stepped outside, a giddy spring in her step as she made her way towards the club. She had known about the club before Jimar had mentioned it to her.  But nightclubs had never really been Heather’s thing. She had been to more than her share, but the lights, the loud music, the crowds, it all just gave her a headache.

When she stepped inside, it was exactly as she had anticipated. Flashing lights of various colors. A dance floor full of people, loud techno music (the lyrics were all in Spanish), and the heavy smell of cigarette smoke permeating the air.

Heather immediately approached the bar and ordered a drink.  She downed it quickly and began to mingle. She discovered almost instantly that there were way more guys there than girls.  This was another reason she wasn’t a huge fan of clubs. Virtually every club she’d ever been in, the male-to-female ratio was about ten-to-one.  This was no different. That just means I can be pretty selective, she thought with delight as she downed her second drink.

After her third drink, Heather was feeling a really nice buzz and she decided she felt like dancing.  She ventured out onto the dance floor, and in no time at all was surrounded by several guys (and a couple of girls).  Each one was vying for her attention, trying to hit on her, grind up against her, and do a lot of other things that Heather probably wouldn’t have allowed them to do, if it weren’t for the liberating effects of alcohol.

Heather had danced to a few songs when she heard a familiar voice in her ear.  “Hello there, Heather, how are you doing this evening?” She would know that faintly Jamaican accent anywhere.  She turned and saw Jimar. He was now out of uniform and dressed just like any other guy in the club.

“Hey!” Heather exclaimed, donning a big smile.  “What are you doing here? Do they let you hang out at the resort when you’re not working?!”  She ran her fingers through her short-cropped, spiky black hair, which she suddenly realized was very sweaty.

Jimar nodded. “Some nights they do, yes.  This is one of those nights,” he explained awkwardly.

The next song flared up over the speakers, and all hope of conversation was lost.  As the music started though, Heather knew that she had found the person she wanted to dance with.  She moved in closer to Jimar, and began moving her body in sync with the techno rhythms. She pressed up against his thigh, placing one of her legs on either side of his.  He wrapped a strong black arm around her back and the two shared a long stare, looking in each other’s eyes as their bodies moved.

Heather turned around and ground her ass into Jimar’s crotch.  His hand reached around and pressed up against her tummy, pulling her in even closer to him.  She raised her arms over her head, and felt his other hand on her thigh.

After the song ended, she motioned to him to follow her off the dance floor.  They both got drinks at the bar, and found a place where they could at least hear each other speak over the music.  Once again, Heather downed the drink quickly, not wanting to lose her nerve.

“One of the perks of working here,” Jimar said as he sipped his own drink.  “On Friday and Saturday nights, we can come to the club and dance.”

“That’s awesome,” Heather responded, not sure what else to say.

“We also get all of our meals paid for,” Jimar explained.

“Do you like working here?” Heather continued, trying to make small talk.

“Oh, yes, very much so,” Jimar replied.  “I can’t imagine a more fun job.”

They chatted a bit more, had another drink, and went back onto the dance floor for one more song.  But Heather was getting overheated. The alcohol combined with the humidity and the dancing had made her extremely hot.  She fanned her hand in front of her in an effort to cool off.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she boldly asked.  “We could go for a walk or something. I need some air.”

Jimar instantly agreed and the two left the club.  As soon as they were outside, Heather felt relief. The night breeze kissed her face and cooled her at once.  The absolute silence of the outdoors was a stark contrast from the loud music and din of the crowd.

Heather and Jimar began strolling across the courtyard, with no real destination in mind.  They talked to each other about where they were from. Jimar asked Heather how long she had been staying at the resort, and Heather asked Jimar why his family came to Mexico from Jamaica.

“My father’s work brought us here,” he explained, but didn’t elaborate.

Whether Heather had led him that way by accident, or subconsciously on purpose, she wasn’t sure, but their walk had taken them in the direction of her room.  Before long, they were right in front of her door.

“This is my room here,” she said.  “You—” she gulped. This was the big moment, she could still back out if she wanted to.  But no, she had to follow through with it. “Would you like to come in?”

Jimar seemed almost surprised she had asked.  “Su—sure, I would love to,” he finally said.

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Heather fumbled with the key for a moment (she was a little more drunk than she thought) and finally unlocked the door.  She led Jimar into the room and then turned to face him in front of her bed. He didn’t miss a beat. His strong arms were around her in an instant and their lips met.  It was the first time Heather had ever kissed a black man.

Her tongue met his and they stood at the edge of the bed, embracing one another, their lips locked together, his warm saliva mingling with her own.  One of his hands drifted down her back and firmly gripped her ass, pulling her in even closer to him than she had been.

As Jimar continued to kiss her, Heather felt his other hand rise higher up her back.  He slipped one strap of her sundress off her shoulder, and then the other. In another moment, her dress was laying on the floor, and she was standing in his arms, wearing just her panties.  She wasn’t entirely sure how he had gotten her dress off that fast—it had just happened. Every nerve in Heather’s body tingled at once. Every touch was intensified, every caress accentuated.  This was what she had truly wanted to do the entire week, and now it was really happening.

A thought suddenly crossed Heather’s mind.  Jimar is not as awkward as he first appeared.  He’s handling me like an expert. He’s lived at this resort for four years, he’s probably seduced a hundred girls just like me.  But as he gripped her more tightly, and his lips pressed against hers more firmly, she realized she didn’t care.  He’s with me right now, and that’s all that matters.

She reached up under his shirt and felt his muscular chest for the first time.  He slipped his shirt off, and as she looked at the bare black skin, she relished in it.  She rubbed her hands across his chest and even kissed it. As her nose pressed against his body, she caught a strong aroma, a distinctive scent that black men had.  She had smelled it before and it had never affected her—but now, suddenly, it drove her wild. She wanted him. Badly. And he knew it.

For some reason, she couldn’t resist saying what she had just been thinking.  “I want you inside me,” she moaned, giving him her best devilish look. She knew it sounded corny, like a line from a bad porno movie, but, it seemed to fit the moment… and it was the truth.

Heather crawled onto the bed and tugged her panties off, flinging them across the room.  She spread her legs apart playfully and grinned mischievously. She licked her lips in anticipation and motioned for him to follow her onto the bed.

Jimar unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor.  She stared at him longingly, looking at his chiseled body in nothing but a tight pair of dark blue briefs.  An enormous bulge seemed to continue swelling as she watched. He pulled down the briefs and let them fall to the floor as well.

“Oh, dear fucking God!” Heather exclaimed reflexively—a little louder than she had intended.

Jimar laughed.  “What’s the matter?” he asked, as if he had no clue.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Heather said with a grin.  “But I think you better call animal control—someone just let a snake loose and I think it’s attacking you!”

That’s the biggest fucking cock I’ve ever seen in my life, Heather thought.  Much Bigger than Wilbur’s, she mused. Even bigger than Ron’s, her thoughts continued as she remembered her past experiences.

She smiled and laughed as Jimar positioned himself on top of her, preparing to penetrate.  “Why do I suspect this is going to hurt?” she said through a giggle.

“It’ll be all right, I’ll take it slow,” Jimar said with confidence.

And then he pushed in.  Slowly. Very slowly. Heather bit her lip, but still, a small cry escaped.  “Oh, fuck,” she said softly. He continued to push in further. She felt like she was a virgin all over again.  Her pussy lips were stretched to their limits. Yet, no lubrication was needed. The dancing, and the situation she was in, had turned Heather on like she couldn’t imagine.  She was hot and wet on a level she hadn’t achieved in quite a while.

She spread her legs further apart, trying to accommodate his impressive girth.  He pushed in further, until he was as deep as he could be. Heather raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck.  She looked up at his chest, and once again lost herself, staring at the definition in his shoulders and pectoral muscles.

He started thrusting, in and out.  Slowly at first, but as her pussy stretched to meet his needs, he must have been able to sense her relaxing.  It wasn’t hurting as much and, slowly, Heather crossed that threshold from pain to pleasure. The expression on her face must have given this away, because he smiled and the thrusts became quicker, stronger.

Finally, she knew she could handle him.  “Harder, fuck me harder!” she grunted, and meant it.  Jimar cut loose. She instantly became aware of how much he had been holding back.  Heather’s command sent him into a frenzy of fucking. He slammed his full length in and out of her like a jackhammer.  His thighs loudly slapping against her own.

She let out a long, loud moan.  She realized with a start that her parents were in the very next room, with only about six inches of drywall between them.  This thought was wiped from her mind almost as instantly as it had appeared, when Jimar shifted positions, giving himself a slightly better angle to pound her from.

Heather didn’t think it was possible, but his thrusting became even more powerful.  The bed frame creaked loudly, with the headboard occasionally smacking forcefully against the wall.  “Shit, shit, shit!” Heather cried. She was both in ecstasy, and terrified that her parents were going to come banging on the door at any second.

She looked up into Jimar’s face.  He had assumed an expression that was almost businesslike.  He was pounding the shit out of her like a man possessed, yet, he looked so serious.  Once more, the thought flashed through her head, how many girls has he done this with?  But again, she realized she didn’t care.

After what seemed like an hour, Jimar had finally exhausted himself.  He collapsed on top of Heather, pressing her into the mattress, his huge dick still inside her.  He hadn’t cum yet (he was still as hard as a baseball bat), but his breathing was heavy and both of their bodies were drenched in sweat.

Heather held onto him tightly, she wanted to keep him inside her as long as she possibly could.  “Let me do the work for a while,” she whispered.

With a little effort, they managed to roll over, his cock had never left her body.  She raised herself up into a sitting position, her thighs straddling him, and she started grinding her hips.  She could feel the monster cock deep inside her. She could feel it spreading her apart, filling her up completely.  It was wonderful.

He placed his hands on her hips, and then worked his hands upward, caressing her breasts, teasing her nipples between his fingers.

Heather sighed, concentrating on her hips, letting them do all the work, rolling, rocking, bucking, fucking. “God, this feels incredible,” she told him honestly.  A trickle of sweat rolled down her rib cage.

Jimar sat up, taking her body in his arms once more.  She adored the way he held on to her like that. The firmness, the power she could feel in his hands.  His tongue found her nipples, and he suckled them. She didn’t think they could become any more erect than they already were, but with the tender touch of his tongue and lips, each nipple became stiff.

They stayed in this position for a few more minutes, before Jimar said “I could use a shower.  How about you?”

Heather agreed, and moments later, the shower water was hot and running full blast.  Heather had taken showers with other people before, and in her experience, it had never worked out really well.  She and the other person would always awkwardly take turns being in the stream of the water, trying to stay warm.  Kissing each other, while half drowning when the water hit them both in the face.

But this time it was different.  Again, Jimar seemed to be more experienced, as if he’d practiced taking showers with lots of different women.  He once again wrapped his arms around her, in that way she had quickly grown to love. What made this even more intense—the bathroom mirror was positioned so that they could watch themselves showering together.  Heather briefly wondered if that had been intentional by those who designed the hotel.

She gazed at the mirror intently, mesmerized by the contrast of his black skin against her white skin.  He quickly noticed that she seemed to like the mirror, so he positioned her in front, and stood directly behind her.  She watched as his hands reached around her body and fondled her tits, and then slid down between her legs. She could feel his erect cock pressing against her ass and she suddenly realized how much she wanted it in her mouth.

Heather turned around and dropped to her knees.  There it was, staring her straight in the face—the enormous black cock that had just impaled her.  She licked down the length of his shaft and back up. Gripping it with both hands, she opened as wide as she could and put his huge head inside.

It filled her mouth completely.  She did the best she could. Circling her tongue around, sucking at it, licking it, using her hands to gently give him a handjob while her mouth worked.  She ran her lips down the length of his cock once again, and then kneaded his balls with her tongue. She wished she could take his shaft deeper into her mouth, but it was just too damn big.  Strangely, it crossed her mind as she sucked, that Jimar had probably never had a proper blowjob in his life for this same reason.

She continued her efforts, slurping his member in and out of her mouth.  Kneeling in front of him, on her knees, she felt as if she were worshipping his cock.  She couldn’t resist glancing at the mirror, and watching herself sucking a black dick. After several minutes, she stood up and, through laughter, apologized that she couldn’t do a better job.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said encouragingly, “It felt incredible.  I liked it. You’re very good.” He kissed her and then added, “Now, you can go ahead and get out.  Cool off. Get back in bed and I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

Any other night, Heather might have found it odd that he wanted time alone in the shower.  But at that moment, she was completely under his spell. She would have done anything he asked her to do.  She stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

However, she didn’t crawl back into bed as he had suggested.  Instead, she went to the mini-fridge and pulled out one of the complimentary bottles of beer that the resort provided.  She twisted open the top and drank about half of it in one swig. Then, she collapsed into the easy chair that sat just a few feet from the bed, assuming the most lady-like position she could manage—one leg over the armrest.  For some reason, it was the only position that felt good after the pounding her poor, tight little body had just received. She placed the beer bottle between her legs, trying to cool off her nether regions just a little—she was still aroused beyond all logic.  In the end, she came to the conclusion that the only thing she was accomplishing was making the beer warm.

She finished off the bottle just as Jimar stepped out of the bathroom, his glorious body glistening with perspiration.  She looked up longingly at him as he studied her with his eyes. They both knew they weren’t done.

“You ready for round two?” he said with a grin.

“Take me to bed,” she replied.

He reached down and scooped her up in his arms, literally taking her to bed.  She willingly submitted to his authority. She was so exhausted, so spent, she felt like a rag doll in his arms—yet, all she could think about was how she wanted more, more, more.  She knew that she was going to leave Cancun tomorrow—and she desperately wanted him to fuck her every single second that he could.

He placed her on the bed, and encouraged her to get on her knees, with her head facing the wall.  Jimar took up a position behind her and thrust his cock deep inside. As he did so, she was almost caught by surprise how easily her pussy now accepted his thick meat.  Less than two hours ago, she had practically cried.

Even though she was used to the size of his cock now, it still made her knees shake and her thighs tremble, especially when he got back in rhythm.  As he started thrusting in and out, she heard the techno music from the club in her head, and imagined him pounding in rhythm with the music. His hands reached around, massaging her breasts, gripping her sides.

The sound of his thighs slapping against her ass became louder and louder.  The bed, once again, making far more noise than she could imagine. As he continued thrusting, her entire body continued to get pushed further and further towards the headboard, until she was physically pressed against it.

Heather’s inner thighs ached.  Her knees shook violently. She felt a quivering sensation near her stomach that she had certainly experienced before—but definitely not during sex.  As her body orgasmed, the sound she made came from deep within her loins, up through her throat and out of her mouth.  It sounded something like, “Errrrrrrr---fuuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” It wasn’t quiet either. She had moaned this quite loudly with her face essentially pressed against the wall—the wall her parents were on the other side of.  They had almost certainly heard it, she was sure, but she didn’t care.  As she continued to groan in ecstacy, her toes curled.  Her left foot cramped.

A moment later, Jimar unleashed a tidal wave of cum inside her.  She could feel it, deep within her. She’d had men cum inside her before, and she normally couldn’t feel it.  She felt this. It was hot, and there was a lot of it. It filled her, she could feel it oozing past his cock, and dripping out of her.

She was completely spent.  Heather collapsed onto the bed, every muscle in her body twitching.  She felt like she had just had the best workout of her life. Jimar’s muscular frame crashed into the bed beside her, his arm still draped across her.  Neither one could move. They lay there, listening to each other breathe for a long moment, before Heather lost consciousness.

When she awoke, Jimar was still there.  He was staring at her, as if inspecting every inch of her naked body.

“Hey there,” she said with what she hoped was a cute little grin.

“How are you feeling?” Jimar asked.

Heather breathed in deeply.  “I feel awesome,” she said honestly.  “Best. Vacation. Ever.”

He laughed, revealing that bright smile one more time.  “I wish I could stay, but I have to get ready for work. It’s almost seven o’clock.”

Jimar dressed quickly and left Heather alone in bed, naked, and feeling more satisfied than she had ever felt in her life.  Heather fell back asleep and woke up at ten o’clock to the sound of her mother banging on the bedroom door. Her body felt like it had been hit by a freight train.  Every muscle was sore, including several she didn’t even know she had.

Heather slipped on her shorts and tank top and answered the door so her mother wouldn’t knock it down.

“Come on, Heather, it’s almost time for us to check out,” Mrs. Meinders intoned.

“Okay, I’ll just be a second, I just—overslept, that’s all,” Heather attempted to explain.

“Well, let me help you,” her mother suggested.  “Why, you haven’t even started pack—” she began and then stopped.  “Why on earth is there a pair of underwear way over here?” she asked, picking up the panties that Heather had flung across the room.

Heather shrugged.  “Who knows,” she said simply.

“Heather,” Mrs. Meinders said delicately, “are you feeling okay?  Your father and I—well, we heard some—unusual noises last night.” She paused for a moment as if she didn’t know how to continue.   “We thought maybe you were sick, or, maybe you had drank the water or something—you know what they always say about drinking water in Mexico.”

Heather just smiled at her mother and replied, “Mom, I feel absolutely fan-freaking-tastic.  Now, let’s go home.”

(Author’s additional note): It should be noted that, to this day, this remains the only time in my life that I have actually experienced an orgasm during intercourse.  It was also the only time I have ever had an orgasm before the male partner I was with.

Oh, and by the way,  Jimar’s is still the biggest fucking cock I have ever seen in my life! And since I am 41 now, instead of 24, I suppose it will always remain so.  I can’t really foresee myself being in a situation where I’d ever top that.

 

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Written by heathermeinders
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