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My sister Annette was gazing at me with a super serious expression. As a critical care nurse, she was concerned for the state of my well being.

“You need a break from all this craziness, I’m worried about you,” she said.

“I’ll be ok,” My voice sounded unconvincing.

“Can’t you take any time off? Go away for a week or two and relax. Remember you’ve already had a heart attack and…”

“Jesus sis that was twelve years ago and it was minor…”

“You had an MI and the chances of…” I interrupted her.

“Ok, ok, I’ll figure something out, maybe a scuba diving trip.”

If my sister only knew what I’d been doing to myself to get in shape the last three years, she’d be the one having chest pains. But, she was making perfect sense. My wife and I had separated after twenty five years of marriage and for all intents and purposes it would be permanent.

A failed business started the decline of our marriage but the seeds had been sown far earlier. It served to hasten the downfall. Our life style changed and she resented the intrusion with a vehemence that surprised me. We managed to keep our home but the extravagant shopping trips to the mall that she looked forward to, ceased.

We grew so far apart that I hardly recognized Barbara; we were living two separate lives under the same roof. Our sex life became non existent with me, wanting more and hoping we could find a satisfactory middle ground. My suggestion that we seek marriage counseling was met with indifference. Her medical insurance would cover sixty percent of the cost and she begrudgingly agreed.

Somehow we managed to keep the upheaval quiet and while our daughter must have known something was amiss, the full extent was kept hidden until she attended college. By then, our weekly therapy sessions uncovered a startling revelation by my wife that shook the foundation of our marriage.

After six months of sometimes gut wrenching admissions by both of us, she owned up to having an extra marital affair with a colleague. Barbara stated the fact with such contempt for me that I wanted to reach over and choke her skinny neck until she was dead.

For all our married life I’d been faithful and like most husbands, I entertained harmless sexual fantasies in my head. But, never would I allow it to manifest into a physical act with another person. I could count on both hands the number of times a female co worker or friend wanted to explore the carnal pleasures of the flesh with me.

When the therapist noted my wife’s lack of remorse, she seemed to grasp the seriousness of what she had done and broke down. With many tears she described how her lover made her feel alive and desired for the first time in years. I managed to keep myself under control but on the ride home, I informed Barbara that I was going to stay at my sisters for a few days.

Barbara pleaded with me to reconsider but I was adamant. At that moment I hated her guts but the temporary separation made me think about my fault in the entire mess and I realized that I was equally at fault for the sad state of affairs.

With the therapists help, we established a temporary truce. Could our marriage be saved? I was completely uncertain but I was willing to try. The atmosphere improved in our home and the feelings we still had for each other kept us going for awhile but it wasn’t enough.

Nearly three years had past without any sexual contact whatsoever. It was suggested that we try cuddling and light petting as a way to reestablish a bond between us. It seemed to work and a long weekend at the seashore was planned to try full blown relations.

It was an unmitigated disaster. I couldn’t get the image of my wife fucking some guy out of my head. I failed to maintain an erection even for the shortest duration. Intercourse was out of the question and it made me angry, really angry. I did the worst possible thing and confronted her, again.

More therapy sessions failed to unlock the hatred in my heart over her betrayal. A trial separation was suggested and I moved out. My anger failed to dissipate and while I saw to her daily needs as though we were still living under the same roof, it was financially necessary to place the house we raised our daughter in up for sale.

I wanted to forgive Barbara for her infidelity but she couldn’t find it in her heart to forgive me for the business failure, and our change in lifestyle. As we sat in front of the therapist, she’d constantly say that she didn’t understand how it failed in the first place. There were times when I swear the therapist looked as frustrated as I did over my wife’s inability to see another side of the coin.

Barbara’s tunnel vision was maddening and she only saw things the way she wanted to see them. Slowly I realized that I would never live under the same roof with her again. Loneliness was preferable than having to listen to her dither on about how she didn’t understand this or that or why…

Because Barbara converted to the Roman Catholic faith, she steadfastly refused to get a divorce and in some ways that’s not bad. She has excellent health insurance and has continued to cover me under her policy. A huge benefit considering I consume expensive heart medication on a daily basis.

**** When I called Harmon’s Dive Shop to see if any trips were scheduled, Andy, the owner/operator was glad to hear my voice. Over the last seven years, I had gone on twenty plus excursions and participated in over one hundred and fifty dives. I learned how to scuba dive with Chloe, Andy’s wife as my instructor.

“Rick, I got one coming up the second week of January to Cozumel Mexico. Only three spots left. Want me to put your name on the board?” he asked.

“Whose on the board so far?” I asked in return.

“Oh, the usual, me, Chloe, Norm, the twins, Joann and Mike, Tim; oh yeah, Tim’s getting married on the beach. You remember Denise, tall blonde with big bazooms? Well, everyone’s invited, should be a real blast.”

“Ok, sign me up for a single,” I said.

“Hey man…ah…I’m sorry to hear about you and…Barbara. You know how we…like both of you…” he said.

The dive community at the shop was closely knit and news usually traveled fast among the members. A couple of weeks before the scheduled departure, I stopped in the shop to get my equipment serviced.

Chloe was behind the counter and gave me a hug. In a way, I felt embarrassed and turned my attention to the latest dive computer display. I happened to glance at the Cozumel sign up board and saw two unfamiliar names.

“Who are Suzanne and Paul? Should I know them Chloe?” I asked.

“New folks, new members, moved here from Canada not too long ago, seem to be friendly. They did a refresher course last month and took the last two spaces.”

I didn’t give them another thought until the day of our flight to Mexico. Andy always chose early flights and today was no exception. I drove into the dive shop parking lot at 5am. I really didn’t want to leave my BMW (one of the few perks of my separation) in the airport parking lot and asked Andy if anyone had extra room for me.

Andy pointed to a Chevrolet Tahoe.

“Paul and Suzanne have plenty of space.”

We walked over to their vehicle. After the introductions, Paul helped me transfer my luggage to his SUV.

During the ride to the airport, Paul talked excitedly about the journey. Suzanne seemed bored and actually yawned several times but that could be attributed to the early hour.

The airport was crowded with travelers and as is common with airline travel today, our flight was delayed. I’d been planning on reading a novel or two while away and settled down with “The Da Vinci Code”.

Paul and Suzanne were seated across from me and with the book as cover I got a good look at Suzanne. She was dressed in a tight sweater and blue jeans that fit her fuller figure snugly. Very attractive with graceful lines and facial features, she had a glow about her.

I put my book down and Paul saw it as an opportunity to engage me in conversation about Cozumel. It was my sixth scuba holiday to the tropical locale and I considered it to be my all time favorite. We discussed “wall” diving which is just another term for diving along the face of a reef.

Suzanne was leaning on her elbow with her legs folded under her on the chair. Her eyes were shut and she was dozing or ignoring Paul’s chatter. To me, there was something sexy about her posture and I cast glances in her direction whenever possible.

Finally, our flight was called and I boarded the plane only to find me sitting next to…Paul and Suzanne. She slept through most of the flight while Paul wanted to talk endlessly about “drift diving”.

When the flight attendant announced our arrival at Charlotte Airport in five minutes, Paul went to the restroom. I gazed at Suzanne. Her head was tilted away me and a tiny line of drool ran from the corner of her mouth. Normally I’d be grossed out by such a thing but on her it looked…cute.

Suzanne gradually awoke and smiled at me but she must have felt the wetness and quickly wiped it away.

“Sorry about that, yuck!”

“You looked very peaceful,” I said

“I didn’t get much sleep last night with the last minute details and packing.” She yawned.

Paul returned and looked at his wife.

“I see Sleeping Beauty’s finally decided to join the living,” he stated. An undercurrent of sarcasm was evident in his tone.

“If Prince Charming had helped Sleeping Beauty instead of snoring like a lumberjack, maybe Sleeping Beauty would be more awake…” she returned scathingly.

What’s up with these two, I thought.

Because of our late arrival, we had to make a mad dash to board our connecting flight. Again, I was sharing the same row of seats as Paul and Suzanne. This time Paul fell asleep and Suzanne and I chatted amiably.

“Andy tells me you’re from Canada?” I asked.

“Yes Toronto, Paul was transferred by his company to the main office in Philadelphia about a year ago,” she answered.

Canadian English is very close in sound and cadence to American English but it’s detectable by the pronunciation of certain words, “about” being one of them.

“Do you miss it…Toronto I mean.”

“Oh yes, especially my two sons but Philly’s a big ice hockey town and we plan on attending some of the Flyers home games, especially when Toronto comes to town.” Suzanne smiled and her entire face lit up.

While Suzanne appeared to be a down to earth person, there was a kind of sophistication and intelligence that shone through. I assumed she was in her middle to late thirties but wore her age well.

Suzanne spoke of the difficulty in finding the right school district for her boys but when she mentioned Lower Merion, I knew it was in the top ten overall in the state. I assured her she had made a wise decision and a look of relief spread over her face. She was curious about me and I was giving her the basic details when our approach to Cozumel was announced on the PA system.

Once we landed, the resort bus picked us up and we were in our suites by cocktail hour. Registration at the dive shop for the boat dives was required and I helped Suzanne and Paul with the necessary documents. PADI or DAN ID cards are a standard requirement at reputable dive operations in the Caribbean.

While I was assisting them, Paul and Suzanne were very snippy toward each other. Suzanne wisely packed only the essential dive gear while Paul accused her of leaving too much behind.

“If you were so concerned about what I packed then why didn’t you stay awake and help me last night,” she snapped at Paul.

So, in short order, I became their equipment rental advisor as well. Afterward, Andy thanked me for taking them under my wing.

A welcome party for our dive group was scheduled for 6pm and I headed back to my room for a quick shower and change of clothes. I called my sister to let her know everything was ok and we got involved in a long conversation.

I was very late for the festivities and the only available seat was at the table occupied by Suzanne and Paul. After a warm greeting, I ordered a glass of cabernet. Paul already looked hammered and when he tried to have a pitcher of lager refilled, Suzanne strongly suggested that he slow down.

Although I’ve seen couples argue, Suzanne and Paul went at it tooth and nail. I wanted to shrink into the background but I sat dumb faced and simply watched. Practically everyone in the dive group was staring at them. Having won the argument, Paul downed several glasses in record time.

While Paul was occupied with his brew, I chatted with Suzanne. My main objective was to keep the conversation light and off the subject of Paul’s inebriation.

Suzanne was an accountant by trade in Canada but with her two boys and running a household, she only worked part-time.

“I managed to secure a job with a bank not far from our house. Thank God, otherwise I just might have gone stir crazy at home,” she stated, and a look of relief swept over her face.

Paul was shit faced by now.

“Wash so baad aboot stayin’ home,” His slurred speech was a good indicator of his drunkenness.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough,” Suzanne stated angrily.

Paul’s head was nodding dangerously close to the table top.

“Would you mind helping me get my husband back to the room?” she whispered. Her eyes were pleading and full of embarrassment for his condition. In one day, they had become the main topic of gossip among the dive group members.

Without too much effort, Suzanne and I managed to get Paul through the door. Suddenly he woke up with a panicked look and his cheeks puffed like a chipmunks.

I drug him to the toilet and his head hung just in time. Paul noisily vomited the contents of his stomach and Suzanne stayed to help him. I went out to the bedroom until I heard her ask for my assistance again.

Once we had Paul in the bed, Suzanne turned out the light and followed me back to the bar. The party had thinned out with most everyone out dining or clubbing in town. I was in desperate need of a stiff drink and asked the bartender if he knew how to make a Kamikaze.

“A what?” He was thoroughly confused.

With his permission, I got behind the bar and found the ingredients I was looking for. Suzanne watched with total fascination as I prepared the concoction in an ice cube filled tumbler.

“…let’s see…a jigger of vodka…hmm…Smirnoff’s will do just fine…a splash of Rose’s lime juice…a dollop of Triple Sec…and voila…” I was talking more to myself than anyone in particular.

I placed the beverage in front of Suzanne. She took a sip and I could hear the ice tinkling in the glass.

“Umm…hey…that’s very good!” she stated.

“A word of warning, they pack a pretty good wallop,” I cautioned.

I mixed up a pitcher, gave the bartender a large tip and sat with Suzanne, enjoying her company. But, she looked sad and I sensed her need to talk. She looked like she needed a friend and I wanted to be there for her.

“This is supposed to be a second Honeymoon for us. My parents flew in from Toronto to stay with my boys. It’s only been one day and I miss them so much already.” I detected a few tears in her blue eyes.

“Last Saturday we celebrated our fifteenth wedding anniversary and I’m wondering if we’ll make it to sixteen.” Her tone was wistful and she audibly sighed.

“Things will work out, you’ll see,” I said, and covered her hands on the table with mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I wish I could be so certain…I mean…Paul was so loving and kind when we were first married. He really appreciated me, loved me but lately all he does it get angry and yell at me. He has no patience with me and every little thing I do irritates the shit out of him. I know he’s under a lot of stress at work but why take it out on me.” Suzanne’s eyes filled with tears.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” I asked.

“If you only knew the number of times I’ve tried but he just ignores me. In the last year our sex life has all but vanished. I mean…Rick…I’m a healthy woman in my thirties and well…even with two boys underfoot, I make time for…but he doesn’t seem interested.” She was downing her third libation and I’ll say this for Suzanne, she could hold her alcohol.

When Suzanne excused herself for a visit to the ladies restroom, I watched her retreating form with some interest. Her tan sun dress was flattering to her lush figure.

The pitcher of Kamikaze’s was half empty and I was feeling the effects. I realized that I hadn’t eaten a thing since our departure in Philadelphia.

The resort French nouvelle cuisine restaurant was still open and I suggested to Suzanne that we eat something before we suffered the same fate as Paul. The way she chuckled at my witticism just added to her overall allure.

The restaurant was dimly lit and occupied mostly by couples. It made me feel awkward but Suzanne relished the atmosphere and regaled me with stories of growing up in Canada. She was the youngest of three and her father was a captain in the famous Mounted Police or RCMP.

“Only I never saw him riding a horse, he mostly rode around in Jeeps,” she stated, and the mirth in her eyes was very appealing.

Suzanne met Paul through a mutual friend and love blossomed. They married when both graduated from University. The food courses arrived and we ate in a forced silence because both of us were hungry. An expensive bottle of Bordeaux highlighted the meal and enhanced the experience.

Originally Suzanne balked at ordering the wine.

“…but…it seems like a lot of money…” I cut her off.

“Dinner’s my treat, I insist,”

“But, I should be treating you. You’ve been very understanding…about Paul.”

“It’s been a long time since I enjoyed such charming company, please allow me,” I stated. My tone was insistent.

Even in the low light I saw Suzanne blush and a few pangs traversed my heart. As I walked her back to her room, she unexpectedly took my arm. And yet, it seemed perfectly natural. Outside the door, she hugged me and lightly kissed my cheek. Her intoxicating perfumed scent invaded my nose and the sensation of her body pressed close to mine caused a stirring in my loins.

“Thank you, thank you so much. You saved my evening. I had such a lovely time. Good night.”

I tossed and turned in bed. I couldn’t get the sight of Suzanne out of my mind and only dozed when the red light of dawn appeared on the horizon.

At eight am, I stood on the boat dock with the dive group members waiting for orientation. I smiled and waved at Paul and Suzanne when I arrived but they picked up where they left off the previous night. I could tell by the looks on the other members faces that they were sick of hearing them argue.

Paul wanted to be with the group taking the deepest route along the reef while Suzanne preferred the shallower itinerary. Something inside me made me speak up immediately. A dive buddy is one of the primary commandments of scuba diving.

“Hey, I’m not allowed to deep dive. Do you mind if Suzanne partners with me?” I asked Paul. He looked relieved.

“Yeah sure, thanks Rick,” he stated.

Suzanne was annoyed. She obviously wanted to be with her husband but gave me a weak smile of gratitude. All the folks for the shallower dive were on Boat “B” and there I was with Suzanne, again.

On the way out to the reef, Suzanne was having problems with her equipment. Her oxygen tank was riding too low on her BCD and I helped her make the necessary adjustment. The look of appreciation on her face made my heart beat faster.

As the dive boat cut through the waves, Suzanne was standing and holding onto the overhead bar that ran above the seats. The noise level exceeded even shouting to be heard and it gave me the opportunity to gaze at her body attired in a classy two piece.

Suzanne’s breasts were large but not overly so, hips a tad wide and little blue varicose veins adorned her upper thighs, probably the result of two pregnancies. She obviously worked out because her belly had that rounded but flat look. Overall, she had a lush, feminine and motherly appearance. The girl was a MILF (mother I’d like to fuck) and oh brother did want to.

However, I didn’t realize at the time, but Suzanne was checking me out too.

It was past one when the dive boat arrived back at the dock. As we disembarked, Chloe, Andy’s wife and one half our dive group leadership, informed Suzanne that Paul had opted to take in the afternoon dives as well.

Suzanne was visibly crestfallen.

“Why that son of a bitch…” she said under her breath to me.

Scuba diving is the type of sport that gives one a very healthy appetite and I thought of only one thing to ask Suzanne.

“Will you have lunch with me?”

Suzanne accepted and I realized that I was spending a lot more time with his wife than Paul. After we ate a leisurely meal in the outdoor café, we sat on the dock waiting for Paul’s boat to return. We had polished off two bottles of wine and we’re both pleasantly buzzed.

“You ok?” I asked a sad looking Suzanne.

“Yeah, it’s just…this vacation is not turning out the way I expected,” she stated ruefully.

Suzanne looked absolutely lovely in the light of the late afternoon sun as it glinted off her hair and face. Gradually her demeanor lightened and she gazed at me curiously.

“I just realized that I don’t know much about you,” she stated with the emphasis on “you”.

I hesitated, unsure where to start.

“I mean I know the basics, you were born and raised in Philly and you have a daughter that you adore attending college. But other than that…”

“Ok, what exactly do you want to know?”

“Well for starters, why are you on vacation alone?”

I stared at Suzanne and all the emotions of the last several years came bubbling to the surface. I kept my emotions in check and gave her the watered down version of my separation and the circumstances leading up to it. She gazed at me with pity.

“You’re such a, well at least on the surface, seem like a nice man,” she stated with sincerity.

“Thanks but I can be one ornery, crabby old fart sometimes,” I warned her.

“You hardly look like an old fart for I’m guessing, someone in their mid forties?”

“Wrong! I’m fifty four.”

The look of surprise on Suzanne’s face was priceless.

“No friggin’ way!” She exclaimed.

“I attribute it to good genetics, my dad’s side of the family,”

“You sure you don’t have a painting stashed away that’s getting older…”

“Nah, nothin’ that diabolical,” I answered.

At that moment, I heard the sound of a boat horn as it signaled its entry into the break water. I bade Suzanne farewell and didn’t see hide or hair of either of them until the next morning.

Paul was adamant about deep diving and Suzanne was my established dive buddy. The same thing happened, Paul went on the afternoon dive trip and Suzanne was my lunch date. Again, we waited on the dock for Paul but she was really steamed about his total lack of consideration for her. She was fed up and planned on confronting him when he returned.

Later that night, I was preparing to eat solo at the beachside Grille when I walked past Suzanne’s patio and saw her sitting alone on a chair, her head in her hands.

“Hey Suzanne, it’s me Rick, everything ok?”

Suzanne looked at me and in the diffuse light of evening I saw the melancholy expression and tears. I walked over to her and when I was close enough she stood and embraced me, crying her heart out.

“It’s so fucking awful, all we do is fight. I’m sick of it!” she declared.

“What happened?”

“After Paul came back, I tried to get him to talk but he said he was tired and wanted to take a nap. He was in the shower and I walked in and joined him. I wanted him to fuck my brains out but he insisted on…oral. Right after he falls asleep, leaving me well…hanging…he woke up an hour ago and announces that he’s going clubbing downtown with Andy and a bunch of guys on the dive trip,” Suzanne inhaled sharply and I was shocked by her frank words.

“I blew up at him and we had a knock down drag out screaming match. Anyway, he announces he’s going regardless and to hell with me and the trip and…” She slumped against me too overwrought to go on.

I held Suzanne in my arms, her head against my chest not quite knowing what to do. Instinctively, I realized she needed to vent and wasn’t seeking any advice from me. However, the sensation from her body was warming me in areas that were long overdue for some attention.

As Suzanne’s demeanor slowly returned to normal, I suggested ordering in.

“Thanks, I don’t feel much like socializing tonight.”

I was dialing the in room phone when Suzanne interrupted me.

“I don’t want to spoil your evening, don’t you have plans?” she asked.

I shook my head and she smiled weakly but with gratitude.

The in room supper was a quiet affair and I realized that Suzanne didn’t want to be alone and enjoyed my company. Gradually, her mood lightened and we laughed and talked in a carefree manner.

The next morning I noticed the wind was stronger than usual, bending the palm trees with each gust. At the dive shop, wind advisories were posted. The seas were choppy and I truly hated getting in the dive boat under those conditions.

At the dock, I saw Suzanne and Paul arguing and I surmised that Paul was going out diving while Suzanne wanted him to stay behind with her. I walked over to them and an idea popped into my head.

“Hey guys,” I greeted them.

Paul and Suzanne turned to face me and the look of anxiety on Suzanne’s face was telling.

“Headed out today?” I asked Paul.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he exclaimed and glared at Suzanne.

“I’m renting a jeep and want to do some exploring, mind if Suzanne comes with me? Of course, that’s if she wants too.” I asked humbly.

Suzanne brightened.

“I’d love to!” she declared and sneered at Paul.

As soon as Paul was on the dive boat, we walked down the pier and I noticed that Suzanne’s demeanor had changed since last night. She was much more defiant in contrast to her downhearted attitude the previous evening.

In the hotel lobby, the concierge took care of the details and I gave Suzanne a list of items she would want to bring on our expedition. As we waited for the Jeep, I told her about several secluded and beautiful beaches on the northern side of the island with good waves for body surfing.

Suzanne was delighted and had a childlike inquisitiveness about the locale. She was attired in her two piece bathing suit with a matching wrap around her waist. As we drove her blonde hair flew seductively in the wind.

I stopped at the first location I had considered and as I predicted, it was deserted. We walked on the path through the dunes and Suzanne audibly gasped.

“Oh my God…Rick…it’s beautiful,” she gushed.

The waves were two to three feet in height and were breaking in long perfect tube patterns. We spread out a blanket and I opened the cooler provided by the hotel concierge. The cold Corona was inviting and we sat and gazed with wonder at the extraordinary view.

“This is what I envisioned I’d be doing with Paul,” she stated, breaking the mood.

The incredible setting was why I loved vacationing in the Caribbean. With her fair skin, I was concerned about sunburn for Suzanne but she was liberally applying sun block. I could tell she was itching to get into the water.

“Want to try it? Body surfing I mean,” I asked.

“Can you teach me? Do you know how?”

“My dear Suzanne, I’ve been body surfing since my dad taught me. I was all of five at the time.”

We waded out to the first line of breakers. The warm blue/green water swirled around our hips and I instructed Suzanne on how to swim past the wave at its apex and judge when it would break. The pull of the wave should coincide with knifing ones body in the water and settling about half way down. Done properly, one could ride until the wave lost most of its energy and petered out near shore.

Suzanne was a quick study and in no time at all was matching me, riding the same waves. We took numerous breaks to imbibe the cold brew and ate the tasty sandwiches in the cooler. During one break I noticed Suzanne trying unobtrusively to stare at my body.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but how did you get into such good shape,” she asked coyly.

“I’ll tell you the truth but I hope you won’t think less of me,” I stated.

I told Suzanne how three years before my separation, I was unhappy with my appearance. At the gym, I seemed to be making very little progress and I was a dedicated five day a week attendee. A few older men near my age group had very defined muscular physiques. One day I worked up enough courage and asked a fellow I saw on a regular basis, how he achieved his look. He appeared apprehensive and asked if we might speak afterward in the parking lot. I couldn’t imagine why he was being so secretive.

As we stood next to my car, he revealed the answer and frankly, I was stunned.

“Ya gotta remember, at our age our bodies produce only half the testosterone than at age thirty. In order to build muscle, the body needs testosterone. You’ve seen Suzie the bodybuilder who trains at the gym?” he asked.

“Yeah, she’s got bigger biceps, shit bigger everything than me,” I stated with wonder.

“How do you think she got them? She could train till the cows came home but without some “test”, she’d never achieve that degree of muscularity,”

I slowly realized that the muscular body I desired was contained in a syringe. At my friend’s insistence, I researched on line everything I could find on the subject. Success was dependent on the intensity of training, diet and the type of steroid used.

As an older individual, it was necessary to stick with milder compounds. Because their illegal in the States, I took my chances by ordering from an overseas pharmacy. After one year, my body had shed ten pounds of fat and my appearance was vastly improved. It was during the second year that I achieved the kind of muscular development that satisfied me.

Suzanne was staring at my upper arm. I flexed for her and my bicep swelled to a nice peak. Although I detested this type of display because I thought it seemed utterly conceited, I wanted to impress her.

“Go ahead, feel it, it won’t bite,” I encouraged her.

Suzanne’s palmed the bump on my arm.

“God, it’s so hard!” she gasped.

I pumped my arm a couple of times with her hand in place to give her the overall impression.

“Wanna surf some more?” I asked.

‘Yeah!” she replied enthusiastically, and taking my hand we ran into the water.

The combined effects of the exotic setting, beer and Suzanne’s full sexy body stirred something dormant inside of me. I gazed at her, my need building and I was positive that with the right amount of coaxing, we would be in each others arms.

The wave heights had increased over the last hour and the surf was more ragged, rough. I signaled Suzanne that I was heading in and she pointed to a wave she hoped to catch. It was a big one, at least four feet high but she was too low in the trough. End over end she tumbled until she came to a sprawled out stop near shore.

When I ran over to her I noticed that Suzanne’s top had been ripped from her body. Slowly she raised herself, shaking the cobwebs from her head. I gently held her arms and brought her to her feet. It was only when she saw me staring at her chest that she realized what had happened. But, she made no move to cover herself and we started searching for her garment.

We found it swaying back and forth in the relentless surf.

“It’s ruined,” she stated. The snap was bent and useless.

My gaze was drawn to her breasts, I couldn’t help myself. They were a “C” or “D” cup with some sagging. The areolas were broad with long cigar thick nipple ducts in the center and the milky whiteness of the surrounding skin was seductive. She had obviously breast fed her boys because the sagging looked more like deflation, a common problem for nursing women.

I handed her my tee shirt but she simply put it round her neck and sat on the blanket.

“You don’t mind?” she asked referring to her topless state.

“Not at all, in fact I’m enjoying the view.” I hoped I didn’t sound too eager.

“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised.

“You have lovely breasts Suzanne, very ah…womanly,” I said bashfully.

There was a glint, a twinkle in her eye.

“Instead of taking this ‘second honeymoon’, Paul and I discussed me getting a boob job but I want to have another child. I’d love a little girl, dressing her up and spoiling her. It would be pointless getting them lifted and firmed if I had another baby.” She seemed wistful but there was a note of optimism in her voice as well.

Suzanne hefted each breast and gazed disapprovingly at them. But, when she looked at me, she saw the desire in my face.

“You really do like them,” she exclaimed.

My face grew hot.

“Rick, you dear man, you’re blushing!” she declared, and I looked away.

I hadn’t felt this bashful around someone since my first sexual encounter when I was a teenager.

“How long has it been?” she asked me point blank and I understood.

“Longer than I care to think about,” I answered pensively.

Suddenly I remembered the lyrics of a Crosby, Stills and Nash song;

“Love the one you’re with… Don’t be angry Don’t be sad Don’t go cryin’ over good times you had… And, when you can’t be with the one you want, honey Love the one you’re with…”

I sat in front of Suzanne and absentmindedly sang in a very quiet voice.

“That sounds familiar.” She cocked her head to one side, trying to recall the song.

Then it was if a light bulb went off in her head.

“…love the one you’re with…” she trilled.

A coy expression revealed Suzanne’s need, her desire and we literally fell into each others arms. With hers around my neck, I hungrily kissed her mouth and she in return. My hands were free and I tenderly squeezed and fondled her breasts. I was captivated by their fullness and weight as I held them. With care, I rolled the nipples between my thumb and forefinger, enjoying the exquisite hardness. I grazed the backs of my hands over them and she gasped her approval.

As Suzanne panted breathlessly, I lowered my head to a tit and drew the succulent firmness into my mouth. It’s easy to understand why most men have a breast fixation. The beautiful orbs beckon and call us to delight in and suck like hungry babies.

The sensation of Suzanne’s pebble hard flesh against my lips sent me into orbit. I was lost to the incredible pleasure that coursed through my body. I went back and forth, giving each teat my undivided attention. Sometimes, I sucked hard then soft; my tongue gently stabbed at the end of a nipple or rasped it like sand paper. Her groaning response was all the fuel I needed. Time seemed to stand still.

Finally, I stopped and stared at her nipples, swollen and purplish red from my intense suckling. Suzanne slumped against me, breathing very rapidly. I wanted to make her cum, really hard. I laid her on her back and kissed over her belly. She was pushing my head down toward her sex and I was thrilled that she wanted me eat her pussy.

I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I dined at my wife’s “Y”. But, it’s like riding a bicycle once you learn you never forget. Except for a young lass from the UK who I had a brief liaison with during a Study Abroad in France, I was strictly familiar with American pussy and wondered how a Canadian might taste.

A female is a female and each has her own unique flavor or scent. I distinctly recalled the girl from the UK, Jill. Her pussy had a piquant but sweet taste of youth and I thrilled at swallowing her plentiful juices.

Suzanne didn’t give me a chance to remove her bottoms as she ripped them down her legs. She propped herself on her elbows and watched as my head disappeared between her thighs. She was hairless, shaved clean. Her puffy pink lips were open and saturated with moisture. I was barely able to restrain myself and dove in for the feast.

I lapped Suzanne’s saucy slit like a sex crazed Saint Bernard. Her tangy, sharp secretions were just what the doctor ordered and I ferociously licked her pussy.

“Umm…oh…umm…oh…oh…” she chanted over and over.

I gripped her flexing butt and held on for greater access, concentrating more of my efforts on the “little man in the boat”. With sound of the ocean, the warm sun and the gentle breeze, I brought Suzanne to a heart stopping climax.

“Oh Jesus fuckin’ H. Christ!” she bellowed.

Suzanne pounded the blanket with her fists and rewarded my gaping mouth with a quick little spray of her secretions. The girls a squirter, I marveled to myself, a first for me.

When she calmed herself, Suzanne sat up and clung to me.

“I want you, inside me, please Rick!” She begged.

At that moment I wanted nothing else but with the salt and sand clinging to our bodies and the openness of our surroundings, I wanted our affair to be something more private, more special. I knew of an intimate little hotel off the beaten path that would serve our purpose perfectly.

Suzanne agreed with my logic and hurriedly we made our way to the jeep. She was wearing my navy blue Steely Dan “Aja” tee shirt and her nipples were poking mightily against the cotton fabric.

We arrived at the hotel and luckily they had a vacancy because it was high season and most of the better resorts were booked solid. As soon as we were in the room, we kissed passionately and in no time what little clothes we wore were on the tiled floor.

The walk-in glass enclosed shower was large enough for two and we giddily soaped each others body. Suzanne’s hand was skillfully sliding along the length of my rod eliciting low moans from me. She knelt on the floor and with the warm water cascading over us, held the base of my shaft running her silken tongue up and down the length.

Although it had been ages since I’d received a decent blow job, I wanted to screw Suzanne until she screamed my name. She was playfully sucking the head and tonguing the underside when I pulled her to her feet. Without uttering a word, she knew what I desired.

We lay on the bed enthusiastically kissing and I positioned myself on top of her. Suzanne’s tongue plunged repeatedly into my mouth as she raised her knees and my cock head slipped along the dewy wetness of her cleft.

I raised my butt and slid my stiffie until it settled into an oily cavity. I flexed my hips and sank further into her inviting hole. Like the instructions in the sex manual for boys my folks left in my room when I was thirteen, I made little in and out movements penetrating only my cock head.

We were still kissing, clinging to each other as I leisurely pushed more of my hardness into her. The fit was just right, not too tight and not so loose that I encountered no friction at all.

We stopped kissing and Suzanne looked at me with a lustful expression.

“If you can fuck as good as you eat pussy then I’m in for one helluva afternoon.”

Even though her words thrilled me to my core, I maintained an unhurried pace and was now sinking almost the entire length. Back and forth my cock reamed her soaked vagina and she was so wet squishing noises resounded in the room.

Suzanne’s legs wrapped around my middle and her internal muscles clenched my invading and retreating cock. The sensation was mind boggling and an impending eruption was imminent.

The sperm roiling in my balls felt like molten lava ready to burst from a volcano. With smooth, swift precision, I drilled into her oozing hole.

“Ugh…umm…oh…ugh…ooh…” she grunted and groaned.

Suzanne’s pussy met each plunge with a steely muscled grip and I was on the path to an eruption and nothing was going to stop it.

“Oh God! That’s it, fuck me! I’m cumming!” she yelled.

I pushed as far as I could into her contracting pussy and unleashed a torrent of sperm deep inside her. By the time the last bit of jism left my cock, I was light headed.

When the reality of what I had done settled into my psyche, I realized that I did to Paul what some guy had done to me. I made him a cuckold as I had been. It saddened me because despite his problems with Suzanne, he seemed like a decent sort of fellow and I didn’t want to hurt him, especially this way.

It also made me wonder if Suzanne had been unfaithful before me. Maybe there was a valid reason for his poor treatment of her but my instincts told me otherwise. Suzanne had that dreamy “just been fucked” look on her face.

“Ooh baby…that was…GOOD…no better than good…” she crowed and kissed my sweaty face.

Suzanne spotted my troubled look.

“You feel bad…for Paul,” she said.

I nodded my head but what we had just shared was extraordinary for me and it was important that Suzanne know.

“You were incredible Suzanne, the best I’ve had in a long time.”

“Did you have a good sex life with your wife?” she was blunt but I liked that the best about her personality. There was no bullshit pretentiousness with Suzanne.

“It was great for many years. It was a big part of our married life and we shared intimacy as often as possible, even in our middle aged years. There was a special kind of sexual bond between us and when our relationship went south, the sex dried up and our marriage was doomed.” I had spoken the utter truth.

“I don’t want to paint too rosy a picture because like any couple we had our moments. There were the inevitable dry spells, especially after she gave birth to our daughter and went through a prolonged period of post-partum. But, we found our way back each time and the sex after a long layoff was extraordinary.”

Suzanne looked completely lost in thought.

“I think you and Paul need to find the way back. You have two young sons and if only for their sake. But, think about all the upheaval in your lives in the last year. You not only moved because of Paul’s job but to a different country. That would place an enormous amount of stress on anyone, husband or wife.” I stated.

“I sorry Rick but I don’t think it excuses his behavior one bit. I’m his damn wife and he should treat me better than anyone else with the possible exception of our sons. Since we moved to Philadelphia, he’s been angry, rude, distant and…I could go on and on. I know you feel some remorse about what we just did…but…shit, he had it coming.” She was angry and her logic was sound, at least in her mind.

“For God’s sake, for the first time in over a year, I feel like a sexual person. You find my body attractive; saggy boobs, thick thighs, flaws and all. You like me for the woman I am. Shit, you sucked my pussy like no one else in my entire life. For that reason alone, I should dump his sorry ass.” Her anger was rising but I learned long ago, when a woman vents her frustration don’t offer any advice, just listen.

Suzanne was fuming but her expression softened.

“I guess I should feel some guilt but it’s the first time I’ve been unfaithful. I’ve always been very sexual and using my fingers and a vibrator for relief just doesn’t compare to a good stiff cock. You know, the boys noticed how he’s been treating me, especially Gregory, the oldest.”

Suzanne bounded out of bed and rummaged in her purse. I gazed at her body with intense interest. In the space of one afternoon, we had shared intimacy and already she seemed totally at ease with her nakedness in my presence.

Suzanne produced two wallet size photos and handed them to me.

“That’s Gregory, he just turned ten last week,” she said with pride.

Gregory reminded me of Suzanne; the eyes, gentle smile, blonde hair.

“He looks like you Suzanne,”

Suzanne was smiling broadly and it moved me.

“And, that little fireball is Nathaniel, he’s six. My Ninja warrior,” She pointed to a dark haired boy with a mischievous grin.

Nathaniel was the spitting image of his father. I handed the photos back to Suzanne.

“You’re boys are handsome,” I stated.

“Thanks.” She said shyly and stuffed the images in the side pocket of her purse. It was already past five, time for us to head back. Suzanne’s entire mood softened and she was lying in the crook of my arm, toying with the hair on my chest. I was about to suggest we consider leaving when I caught the expression on her face.

Suzanne wrapped her arms around me and kissed. I saw the want reflected in her eyes and it was my want too. She positioned her lower body so that the length of my hardening cock rested in the confines of her soaked cleft.

At my age and on heart medication, two sustainable erections in one afternoon was rare but given the circumstances, possible. Gently, I moved my hips and the steely rod between my legs slid effortlessly until the head rubbed over her clit.

“Oh yeah…oh yeah…oh yeah…” she moaned, and I kept pace increasing the speed gradually.

Suzanne groaned into my mouth. Her tongue was insistent, beseeching and searching. If I’d been a younger man, I would have squirted a load onto her tummy by now. But, my orgasm would build slowly and enhance my ability to give her the pleasure she sought. It was a source of enormous satisfaction for me.

Finally, Suzanne skillfully maneuvered my throbbing hardness into her sopping vagina and I buried my shaft to the balls.

“Uhh…umm…ugh…ugh…oh…” she grunted as I plumbed the depths of her pussy. At the end each stroke, I added another little push for emphasis and it drove Suzanne wild. My cock must have been hitting something sensitive because she wrapped her legs around my middle and held me tightly. I sucked the tit closest to my mouth and her groans got louder.

We were locked together and I kept my movements smooth and unexaggerated. Suzanne was panting rapidly and her face was covered in perspiration. I absolutely loved screwing this very sexy woman. It might sound cliché but I felt alive almost powerful. With my cock ensconced in her sublime wetness, I experienced intense feelings of oneness with another human being.

I lifted Suzanne’s body until she was in a sitting position, my manhood throbbing deep in her vagina. I raised her butt and watched entranced as my cock drove relentlessly into her hole, her fluids running down the length and dripping onto my nuts.

“Oh Jesus effing Christ! I gonna cum…” she wailed.

Suzanne threw her head back and her contractions engulfed my pulsating rod, the seed churning in my balls spewed into her. The long length of each spurt was something I hadn’t experienced in years, let alone two mind boggling orgasms in one day.

Hastily, we showered and drove back to our resort in time for the buffet dinner sponsored by the dive shop. Suzanne went to her room and I thought it best that we arrive separately. I sat with Andy and Chloe for a bit then bellied up to the bar with Norm, one of the shops dive instructors. We chatted and knocked back a few until I realized that Suzanne and Paul never showed up.

I excused myself and walked to their room hoping I wouldn’t hear any arguing. The door was half open and I saw Suzanne talking to someone on her cell phone.

“…No Nathaniel, I haven’t seen any Pirates…no…I haven’t spotted Captain Jack Sparrow…” she was gazing at me with an amused expression.

“…yes, I’ll call you the moment I see him…yes sweetheart, put Nana on the phone…”

I sat on the patio, not wanting to intrude further in her private conversation. Suzanne appeared suddenly and it startled me.

“Nathaniel’s completely enthralled with the movie ‘The Pirates of the Caribbean’,” she said smilingly.

“Paul?” I whispered and gestured toward the room.

“Not here, in town at Senor Frogs, Tim’s bachelor party.”

Suzanne didn’t appear to be concerned or upset. Tim was one of the members getting married on the beach in a day or so. The entire dive group was invited to the wedding and reception.

“Looks like dinners on me tonight, no ifs ands or…ah buts. You can have my butt later if you like,” she cooed seductively.

We climbed in the jeep and I drove to Pancho’s Backyard, an intimate little café on the outskirts of town. In the soft glow of candlelight, we ate in the courtyard and drank frozen margaritas, a house specialty.

Afterward, we walked on the beach near the resort. Suzanne was fetchingly dressed in a light print sun dress, combined with the soft breeze and bright moonlight, my juices flowed anew.

Under the cover and darkness of some trees, I held Suzanne close and she looked up at me with those needy eyes. I had forgotten how responsive and horny a woman in her thirties could be. We snuck back to my room and I prayed no one saw us.

In the glow of a candle, I removed Suzanne’s dress and bra. Her breasts were calling to me again and I hoped they weren’t sore from earlier. I gently sucked and nibbled the distended nubs and Suzanne moaned her pleasure. I held each boob and let my tongue traverse the areola in a tightening circle until it landed on her bullet hard nip.

Suzanne really enjoyed this and squealed her delight. My cock was only semi hard and I doubted it would be of much use for intercourse. She was seated on the bed with me kneeling in front of her, my lips working carefully on her nipples when she breathlessly whispered in my ear,

“Eat me Rick, please? Eat my pussy.”

That’s all I had to hear. I hooked my thumbs in her panties and skinned them down her legs. The scent from her aroused sex was strong and it only served to enflame my lust, my craving for her.

Suzanne’s crevice was sloppy wet with her fluids and I sucked the excess down my throat. Her legs found their way behind my head and pulled my face into her sopping slit. I slurped and lapped like a sex fiend. The amount of her secretions was impressive until I realized how much sperm I had ejaculated into her earlier.

In someway it didn’t matter to me and I gorged on Suzanne’s dripping slice with total abandon.

“Jesus God Almighty! Oh…oh…ooh…umm…” she groaned aloud.

My tongue slid through Suzanne’s soggy folds, drawing the creamy juices into my mouth and swallowing. I dipped a finger in her gooey discharge and poked lightly at her butt hole. That always pushed my wife over the edge and Suzanne was no exception.


My mouth was tightly sealed around her vagina and I waited patiently for and was rewarded with a little squirt of her juices. Suzanne collapsed back on the bed, panting like mad. She was pulling at my belt buckle but I stopped her.

“I can’t, not tonight,” I whispered.

“What about you? I want to make you cum,” she said with a pout.

“I wanted to give you pleasure and that satisfies me. Please believe me; I derive a lot of pleasure just by giving…”

Suzanne sat up and gazed at me with surprise.

“Look, I was trained early on by a feminist. She taught me something unique and valuable. Giving can be more fun than receiving,” I stated emphatically.

**** The winds died down and the next morning the seas were calm, like glass. On the boat dock, I waved at Suzanne and Paul but judging by their body language, they were in the throes of another argument.

When we boarded boat “B”, Suzanne was quiet, distracted and her expression angry. My first inclination was that she regretted our intimate interlude. During the hour break between dives, the boat anchored at a small beach and we waded ashore looking for the shade of a palm tree.

Suzanne broke the silence first.

“One day, just one lousy day, I want him to dive with me, spend some time with me but…” she was irate.

Suzanne’s wet suit was open to the waist and I looked at her upper body with twinges of desire in my crotch but, I controlled myself. Most all couples in a long term relationship experience difficulties but Paul’s behavior was perplexing.

Suzanne spoke of her extreme displeasure with Paul’s attitude, his treatment of her and the sad state of their marriage at present. I sat and listened patiently until a blast from the dive boat horn signaled that break time was over.

“Thanks for listening,” she stated, and the look in her eyes penetrated my soul.

Back at the resort, Paul’s boat arrived first and he was waiting on the dock for Suzanne. I beat a hasty retreat to my room and showered, contemplating what I was going to do about lunch. However, I was more tired than hungry. I decided to take a snooze on the patio.

I recall I was dreaming and somebody was calling my name.

“Rick? Rick?” The voice stated.

I awoke to see Suzanne standing over me.

“Hey girl, what’s up?”

Right away I could see that she was unhappy.

“Paul just left to go on the night dive excursion,” her voice was wistful, sad.

Suzanne sat on the edge of the lounger next to me.

“I was hoping against hope that he would want to spend the evening with me.”

Because I was starving at this point, I begged Suzanne to have dinner with me. She didn’t need much coaxing. After a very satisfying meal, we walked through the beautiful tropical gardens maintained by the resort. As we sat on a bench listening to the wind as it rustled the palm trees, she looked at me and taking my hand held it against her cheek.

In just two days, I had become familiar with that look and what it meant. We spent the remainder of the evening in my bed exploring each others body.

The following day went pretty much the same way, except I decided to skip Tim’s wedding and reception. I was well aware Suzanne had misgivings about attending as well because she barely knew anyone in the wedding party.

Paul fought with Suzanne about going and I could tell it was the last straw for her. We sat on the darkened boat dock and Suzanne while bitter was filled with resolve.

“When he comes back tonight, I’m issuing him an ultimatum. If he doesn’t want to shape up then I’m shipping out. I’ll take the boys and go home to Canada with my parents.”

Judging by the tone of her voice, I knew she was deadly serious. I walked Suzanne to her room and hugged her.

“Good luck,” I said, and crossed my fingers for emphasis.

In my heart, I hoped Suzanne and Paul could resolve their differences. Too many marriages ended in divorce and it’s usually the children who suffer the most. When I thought about the photos of her sons that she had shone me, it brought tears to my eyes.


Saturday was our last full day in Cozumel and a non-diving day according to PADI guidelines. I was enjoying an early breakfast at the outdoor buffet when Paul and Suzanne joined me.

Suzanne looked very chipper while Paul was subdued with a hangdog expression. When Paul was in line at the omelet station, she winked at me. Apparently, her demands had been met.

When I returned from a trip to the fresh fruit bar, I walked in on the tail end of a conversation.

“…absolutely not, you go fishing in Playa Del Carmen with Andy and the guys. I want the day to myself to go shopping, sunbathe by the pool and finish reading the book I started last week…”

“But…Suzanne…” He whimpered.

“I said no Paul and I mean it. Don’t make any plans for dinner tonight because your ass is mine, understand?”

“Yes dear,” he said with a defeated attitude.

Paul got up to leave, leaned down and kissed Suzanne on the cheek.

“That’s a good boy, I’ll see you around six,” Her newfound dominance over Paul was impressive.

I stared at her but a roll of her eyes told me that it was neither the time nor the place to discuss the matter.

“Still have the Jeep?” She asked me point blank.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I have it until 6pm.”

Suzanne leaned across the table and whispered in my ear,

“Want to go body surfing?”

I nodded my head, thrilled at the unexpected turn of events.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby in 1 hour” she said, and made a quick exit.

Suzanne looked radiant in the mid morning sun as I sped along the upper coast road in search of another secluded beach that I remembered visiting. I recalled the turn off was tricky and I spotted it just in time. The road was so narrow it barely accommodated one vehicle. Finally, it abruptly stopped at a dead end.

We gathered up the cooler, blanket and a large beach bag Suzanne had brought with her. The path through the dunes wound up and around and as we reached the crest, the view in front of us took my breath away.

When we set foot on the powdery white sand, we realized we were actually in a kind of cove with dunes on three sides and the ocean in front. It was the ultimate in seclusion.

Suzanne gazed at me with a devilish grin.

“Did somebody say clothing optional?” she broadcast.

In a matter of seconds we were both bare ass naked. We spread the blanket out and Suzanne retrieved the sun block from her bag. I offered to apply the lotion to her body and she handed me the bottle with a sexy smile on her face.

I warmed the lotion between my hands and started carefully applying it to her face, ears and neck. I spent a long time massaging the unguent into her breasts and that brought sighs of pleasure from Suzanne.

I knelt before my full bodied goddess and finished her thighs, legs and feet, lavishing several kisses on her pussy. A quick turn and I repeated the process for her back and butt, running my slick fingers over her sensitive rose cluster.

Suzanne insisted on doing the same for me. As she was rubbing the salve into my shoulders, she was eyeing my chest curiously.

“You have cute nipples for a guy,” she stated and before I could react, she leaned in and ran her tongue over the surface. I shivered in response, it felt great.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked/stated.

All I could do was stupidly nod my head in agreement. Suzanne placed her hands around my back and pulled my nipples to her mouth. It was an entirely new and incredible sensation. She stopped briefly and looked up at me.

“Paul loves when I do this,” she panted, and resumed licking and sucking.

After several minutes, I was breathless and my cock was granite hard.

“Works every time,” she said, eyeing my stiffie. Suzanne fell back on the blanket, pulling me on top of her. When she spread her thighs, my penis was already at the gate and it slipped into her divine wetness. As my pelvis rocked back and forth, my shaft plunged deep into her hole, over and over.

“Ugh…ugh…ugh…ugh…ugh…” she grunted as my cock drilled her vagina like a pile driver.

Suzanne was moving her hips in nearly perfect unison to mine.

Oh God! Fuck me!” she wailed.

I kept up a steady rhythm, never losing control but her internal muscles were exerting their will on my cock with each intrusion. Her ministrations to my chest had primed the pump so to speak and the sperm was boiling in my nuts, a powerful release was imminent.

Suzanne reached up and tweaked my nipples triggering an explosive orgasm. The intensity was off the charts with the first spurt followed by many smaller ones.

“Good God Suzanne!” I panted. In the aftermath, I was weak as a kitten but gradually my strength returned.

Suzanne was on her side, her head propped up by her arm with a self-satisfied expression on her face.

“Where on earth did you learn that?” I asked.

“Nowhere, I figured it out myself. If a woman’s nipples are sensitive than a man’s tiny titties should be too. The first time I tried it on Paul he was hooked.”

Suzanne finished applying sunscreen to my body and we dashed into the ocean. We caught wave after wave. I signaled I was getting out and Suzanne followed me. We downed several beers, a couple of sandwiches and some fresh fruit. I didn’t want to spoil the mood by asking her what happened when she confronted Paul and although my curiosity was killing me, I kept silent.

We were quieter than usual, content to drink in the marvelous view. There were no tomorrows for us and I had no illusions to the contrary. Suzanne’s destiny lay with her husband and children. This was a brief diversion for her, a need to connect with someone on a physical level; to feel like a woman, a sexual being. I was glad that the person she connected with was me.

You’re a remarkable lady, I thought to myself as I gazed at her.

Sufficiently rested, we waded out in the ocean but eschewed body surfing for good ole down home horse play. We splashed and cavorted like two kids. When we were chest high in the water, Suzanne jumped on my back with one arm around my neck and a hand in my groin playing with my limp cock. I moved past the line of breakers to avoid getting clobbered.

We were waist deep when Suzanne embraced me and we kissed like desperate lovers. This was assuredly the last gasp, the last hurrah our last intimate moments together. For a long time we held each other, her head on my shoulder, me stroking her damp hair as the warm water surged around us.

Finally, I looked into Suzanne’s eyes and saw the want, the need and I wanted her again too. Problem was my middle aged schwanze might refuse to cooperate with us; he was as limp as a strand of overcooked spaghetti. I had experienced more sex in one week than I had in the last five, maybe ten years. After the copious volume of spunk I deposited into her pussy, my balls felt like two shriveled raisins.

Suzanne gently fondled but it was in vain and I looked at her apologetically.

“Don’t worry…I have my methods…” She was eyeing my little nips now puffy and red from her talented mouth.

But, she surprised me by dropping to her knees in the ankle deep water. Suzanne held my flaccid stick and slowly engulfed the head with her mouth. Holding my tired, spent nuts, she nursed my wilted willy back to life.

Suzanne raised her head and gazed proudly at her handiwork or mouthwork. My trouser snake was standing tall, ready for another dip in Suzanne’s vaginal pool. We wasted no time and she pushed me onto my back at the waters edge.

Suzanne squatted over me and completely engulfed my rod with her dripping pussy. I decided to help matters and held her rump as she fucked me like I was never fucked before.

“I…want you…to remember…this… for the…rest of your life…” she panted breathlessly.

I watched with astonishment as Suzanne pumped her steaming hot slice up and down. The sensation was incredible and reverberated throughout my body. My orgasm was building slowly and she never let up, screwing me with a sense of purpose that went beyond mere sex.

Suzanne must have intuited that I was getting close because she dropped three fingers to her clit.

“Oh yeah…oh yeah…oh yeah…” she brayed.

In the hot tropical sun with the warm water lapping at our bodies, I gawked at Suzanne as her body stiffened. She drove her pussy down onto my cock with a lot of force and it contracted around my besieged rod.

“Oh sweet Jesus! I cuminggg!” she bellowed, and tossed her head from side to side, lost in whatever sensation she was feeling.

My penis erupted inside of Suzanne and it felt maddeningly wonderful. Gasping for air, we drug our bodies to the blanket and collapsed. There we lay, holding each other, not wanting to let go.

At the resort, I dropped the Jeep keys off with the concierge and made a bee line for my room. After a refreshing hot shower, I lay on the bed as images of Suzanne and what we shared kept playing in my head.

At some point I dozed off because I was awakened by loud knocking on the patio sliding glass door. When I looked, I saw Suzanne with an anxious, worried expression. It was dark outside, I obviously slept through dinner.

When I let her in Suzanne gave me a quick hug.

“You never showed for the Farewell dinner, I was worried about you,” she said.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Past ten, I saw the light on and you sprawled out on the bed,”

Suzanne was smiling at me and it touched my heart. She looked happy, content, a far cry from the first day she set foot in Cozumel.

“I just wanted to say…” she started.

“You don’t have to say anything Suzanne,” I whispered and held her close.

“Rick, I hope you find someone. You’re a good man and you deserve a good woman.”

“If I do and that woman is anything like you…well…I’ll count my blessings,” I said. My emotions were running high and I had tears in my eyes.

Suzanne and I hugged for the last time. When she left, she blew me a kiss and I watched her lovely figure until it faded into the darkness. One of the most incredible weeks in my life was coming to a close.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful, even our flights were on time. In the parking lot of the dive shop, I bade Paul and Suzanne goodbye. Suzanne’s eyes were full of mirth and her smile broad, inviting. I would remember her face for as long as God granted me time on this Earth.

**** Later that week my sister Annette stopped to see me. As I talked about the trip, purposely leaving out all reference to Suzanne, she studied my face.

“You met someone, you hooked up,” she said seriously.

I nodded my head and she smiled. In recent years, I sometimes referred to Annette as the “Sicilian Strega” or “Sicilian Witch” and for good reason because I swear she was clairvoyant about certain things.

Annette chuckled to herself when I told her I had already signed up for another dive excursion to Grand Cayman.

“That must have been SOME trip to Cozumel,” she stated with raised eyebrows.

The dive holiday to Grand Caymen was fun but nothing occurred even remotely close to what happened in Cozumel with Suzanne. Of course I met people and we shared in good times and the camaraderie that surrounds a scuba dive group.

In the months that followed my legendary affair with Suzanne, I thought about her everyday and wished her well, hoping that she had found some peace and contentment in her marriage.

On a Saturday morning in late October, I was on the dive shop website reading the Bulletin Board notices for up to date news about the members when I saw something that shocked me to my core.

“Congratulations to Paul and Suzanne on the birth of their daughter, Rylie Marie, 7lbs.3ozs. October 14th, 2006.”

Immediately, I grabbed my desk calendar and started counting the months. Give or take a few days, it was nine months since the dive trip to Cozumel.

I was too stunned to even begin to contemplate the implications of what I had just read. There where so many question swirling through my head. My mind was boggled and I reread the notice repeatedly.

I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call Suzanne. But, what would I ask her? I would never interfere in her life and I think she was totally cognizant of that fact.

Was it a coincidence that she named her daughter Rylie? During the numerous conversations we’d had in Cozumel, I had revealed to Suzanne that in the unlikely circumstance I ever had another daughter I would name her Rylie, my favorite name for a girl.

Was it a coincidence that Suzanne’s daughter weighed exactly the same as my daughter when she was born twenty years ago?

Why had Suzanne taken no precautions against pregnancy when we made love in Cozumel? Then again, it never occurred to me to ask her at the time. It had been years since, I had to worry about impregnating anyone, specifically my wife.

Suzanne and I fucked like two horny rabbits that week and it reminded me of the vacation my wife I and took to Cancun, Mexico. We were either sunbathing by the pool or in our suite, screwing each others brains out. Nine months later, my daughter was born.

There was the distinct possibility that Rylie was Paul’s off spring. But, considering the sorry state of their marriage at that time, I had serious doubts.

Then I remembered that Suzanne told me the trip was supposed to be a second honeymoon, that she purposely didn’t get a boob job because she wanted to have another child. Was she ovulating that week? She must have known; she probably planned the vacation dates to coincide.

Suddenly, I was flooded with emotion and I started to cry. Was Rylie my daughter? I couldn’t bear to think that she was. Why me Suzanne? I had to accept it for what it was or I would go crazy. Rylie was Paul and Suzanne’s daughter. The questions that plagued me would have to remain unanswered.

Suzanne told me she wanted a girl, to spoil, to pamper, dress up in cute little outfits and dote on. I remembered how proud she was of her boys when she showed me their photos.

What a remarkable, extraordinary woman, I thought to myself.

Images of Suzanne and I locked in an intimate embrace, our bodies entwined, seeking the joy of sexual release dominated my mind. She had given herself to me freely, I was convinced of that. If Rylie was a product of our affair, than I was thrilled for Suzanne.

I could see Suzanne’s face, overjoyed by the new addition, breastfeeding with her large pendulous teats, holding little Rylie in her arms as the baby contentedly cooed and fussed; mother and daughter, together. It was a fantasy that I found some peace of mind in. It would have to do.

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