We’d been sitting for a few minutes in the heat at the outdoor bar by the pool when an attractive black couple sat down next to us. They were both in their late 40s or early 50s, but they obviously took pains to keep themselves very fit. This was our first full day at the resort, and we had been having a ball swimming and relaxing in the sun and shade.

He had accidentally pushed his bar stool a little too close, smiled a very friendly grin, and apologized. His wife laughed and apologized, explaining that he honestly hadn’t even had a drink yet. She was a college administrator and no more than 5 feet tall, wearing a tight-fitting, dark red one-piece suit with a risqué scoop in the front and a contrasting white sheer pool cover-up over her shoulders. I was at least a head taller than she was. Her very tall and slender husband was a basketball coach and wearing the same type of trunks as you, only a darker shade of blue.

I’m betting that you immediately noticed her deep cleavage, giving away her prominent bust. She was probably the only other gal around the pool that could compete with me in the trim yet curvy department, since I’ve been busty since my late 30s. Striking up a conversation, the time seemed to slip by without our noticing until we realized that the sun was setting over the ocean. It was a natural thing to ask about dinner plans, and they admitted that they were open. We all decided to meet at the nicer restaurant at the resort and left to get ready for dinner at 8 p.m.

The restaurant and the dining featured great views of the ocean and excellent cuisine. It was a chance to wear my new very black cocktail dress, and she seemed to have the same idea. When we all met for dinner, she was dressed very attractively in a low-cut pale blue dress. Wow, what an hourglass figure she had. With the men in jackets, we felt pretty elegant for the evening. Somewhere around our opening the third bottle of expensive red wine, the subject turned to massage. They had already been to the elegant spa and recommended reserving the private suite.

We didn’t know what that meant, so they explained that one of the rooms at the spa was oversized and included a large sunken Jacuzzi tub, a steam room, sauna, and showers open to the room. You could rent the suite by appointment, and normally you would also book a couples massage for both. It wasn’t cheap, but they said that it was a fabulously sensual experience. You and I were intrigued and discussed booking the suite during our stay. No need, her husband stated. He was an old friend of the resort manager and had his own key to the spa to use after closing. An offer to give us a private tour was discussed over yet another bottle of wine.

We thought a late-night tour would be fun, and it seemed a little mischievous because it was after hours and no one else would be around. The husband said that he would go back to their room, get the key, and we could all head over to the spa. When we arrived, he opened the front door, and we walked in semi-darkness toward the back of the spa, finally entering through yet another locked door to the private suite.

It was beginning to feel like fun. We turned on the light switch, but it only lit up a couple of low-wattage recessed lights. Looking around the room, it was about 20 feet by 40 in size with all the features the husband had outlined over dinner. Near the middle of the room were two massage tables set up for tomorrow’s first session. Reaching into a small refrigerator underneath a counter, he took out two bottles of champagne and opened both.

There were glasses on the counter, and we soon had glass after glass during our little tour of each of the suite’s special elements. His wife mentioned that this brought back nice memories of two days ago, and she could really use another massage. I added that I’ve always loved getting a massage, and I knew just what she meant.

Her husband smiled broadly and said jokingly he’d be happy to help out ladies in need with a massage immediately; after all, there were two tables. It might have been the wine talking, but she returned that if he was serious, that she’d like to take him up on the idea, and giggling, I said that the opportunity seemed like a good one. OK – let’s all admit that too much wine with a big meal, followed up by glasses of champagne, and mixed with a warm, humid night in the tropics tends to make anyone giddy and somewhat uninhibited.

The idea tickled me in more than one place. But I was generally a modest and shy person, and I couldn’t think how this would work without someone seeing more than they should. He pointed out that the tables were already set up, and they would be happy to step into the sauna so that we could get undressed and on the tables.

Jesus – this was fast turning into some naughty fun. I think for show they both went into the sauna and closed the door as a joke. I looked at her and she looked back at me. Want to? We asked at the same time?? “Oh, come on let’s do it,” she pushed. I suppose I was too drunk to not play along with her, so I said OK. She asked me to unzip her so I grasped the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled it down. It opened up to reveal her beautiful dark coffee-colored skin set off by her pastel bra and panties.

She shrugged it off and in her bra and panties, stepped around me to unzip my dress. Down went the zipper before I even had time to think and she was helping me out of my dress. I thought this was pretty courteous and watched as she set our dresses a few steps away. She really had an amazing shape: large rounded full breasts, slightly sway-backed, tapered waist with a very toned tummy, legs, and butt. She must be at the gym every day.

Stepping around me again she began unhooking my bra and, reaching around me, pushed it down my arms. This felt a little surprising to me, but in my wine and champagne haze, seemed OK. I could feel the lace of her bra against my back as she leaned in to push it away and over my hands. My own large breasts were now in full view and I noticed her looking. My areolas are much bigger than average and usually most take a second look.