The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

“Nothing, really. I’m just saying you slept through it.”

“Ply a girl with champagne and that can happen.”

After twenty miles or so, I exited the highway and headed into Puerto Morelos to get Marci sustenance. I knew the beaches were beautiful there and would become even more so the closer we got to Tulum.

“Holy Fuck!” said Marci, when I parked at the beach by the small harbor. “Look at that water!” She bolted out of the car exhibiting great enthusiasm, which included leaving the door open.

I double-timed to catch up with her. “Let’s get our feet wet.”

Once we reached the water line, we slipped off our shoes and stepped into the water.

“This is warmer than a bath. Look! There’s little fishies.” Marci bunched her dress nearly up to her waist and waded out up to mid-thigh. “Let’s just stay here!”

“Just wait. The beaches get even better further south.”

“I can’t wait to see them... Hey, I’ve got to pee. That happens every time I get into a hot bathtub.”

“There’s probably a restroom over there,” I said, pointing to a restaurant at the foot of a short pier. Being Marci, she ignored my suggestion, pulled her dress up and waded out up to her navel, soaking her panties.

“Jesus, Marci. You really are a child.”

“What? Hey, don’t watch me!”

With admirable efficiency, she concluded her pee and joined me at the waterline. Still holding up her dress, I could see her panties were now transparent and revealed her lovely bush. I nodded at her situation.

“Oh, yeah.” She let the dress drop to its normal length.

Within a hundred yards we scored fish tacos from a street vendor and ate them sitting on a bench overlooking the water.

“I love Mexico,” said Marci. “We should buy a place here like Greg.”

“You’ve only been here less than a couple hours.”

“I’m a quick study. Look at that ocean!”

“I know. I’ve never seen water that color before.”

“I could buy a place. Then you could come stay with me and Susan could stay at Greg’s. It could be a thing.”

“Anything is possible.”

“Is it Ryan? I’m not kidding.”

I wasn’t sure. When Marci first said “I could buy a place” it made perfect sense. Then I reminded myself I was married, at which point it made less sense. But Greg already had a place. Why shouldn’t Marci have one as well?

We finished our tacos and regained our rent-a-car. Before getting in, Marci somewhat stealthily, though not entirely, removed her panties, then threw them in the backseat when she got in.

“That’s better,” she said. “I hate wearing wet bottoms.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to pee again?” I pointed to the ocean. “We’ll be a least another hour on the road.”

“I’m good. But if I need to go again, you can just pull over. I’m not real picky about peeing. Pretty much anywhere will do.” She laughed, even though I knew she was serious. As we pulled onto the highway south, she opened her dress, completely exposing herself to evaporate any remaining moisture from her discarded panties. She looked especially tidy, having cut her pubic hair very short.

“Had a little trim this morning, huh?” I said, indicating her lap. She looked at herself and opened her legs.

“You like it? I thought I should put in a little effort since you were flying me down to Mexico for a vacation.”

“I like it any way you have it.”

“Ah, you’re so sweet... But I’m not waxing down there. I have limits.”

“I’d never ask you to.”

“Have you seen men who shave everything? They look like little boys.”

“Not in person, no. Not your thing I guess.”

“Christ no! I’m not into little boys.”

“Good to know.”

Marci fumbled in her purse, pulled out two scrunchies and, struggling against the breeze spilling in through her window, fussed with her hair until she had arranged it into two messy pigtails.

“What do you think?” she asked.

I looked but didn’t quite get what she was going for. “What?”

“Pigtails.” She looked in her visor mirror. “Well, kinda. The scrunchies aren’t really working so well.”

“I see that. Why?”

“High school. I’m trying to look younger.”

“It’s definitely a different look on you. Will you keep it?”

“Don’t be a dick. Remember Susan’s giving you a blowjob in your car, after saying it would be like in high school?”

“Yeah.”

“Well... Pigtails? We’re in a car?”

“I’m still not following.”

“Jesus, Ryan. I’m trying to look like a high school girl. I’m going to give you a blowjob.”

I caught on, but the pigtails were hardly necessary. She leaned over, unbuttoned my shorts, and pulled down the zipper. I was fully erect by this point, which she discovered when she reached into my briefs.

“Ah, there it is!” She pulled it out and went down, her lips feeling as silky as ever, her mouth as warm as her intimate treasure elsewhere. She started sucking and stroking, then paused, lifting her face.

“Is it okay if I just swallow? I mean, if you want to come on my face okay, but in the car, it might be a little messy. It’ll probably get all over your shorts too.” She gave me a naughty grin followed by a kiss, then resumed on my cock.

She was truly an expert. Cars were passing and their drivers were giving me looks, like men in vehicles getting blowjobs sent out a special signal they could pick up. That, or Marci’s pigtailed, bobbing head over my crotch offered a sufficient clue.

In short order, I streamed into Marci’s mouth, which she highlighted by making appreciative “hmm” sounds with each pulse. After a few more deep inhalations, she released my cock with a pop, licked her lips, and gave my cheek a kiss.

“Has anyone ever mentioned you pack quite a load?” She laughed. “I’m not kidding, you know. I won’t need dinner now. It’s like a pint or something.”

I tried to restore my dignity, but it was tough to do while driving. Marci assisted as best she could.

“That was lovely,” I said. “Thank you. The pigtails were hardly necessary.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about those.” She removed the scrunchies and