Watching several twenty-one year old men alternate fucking your beautiful 37 year old wife over the course of 3 days and nights, might be enough to send most men to a mental institution. Up until last year, I would have been one of them. But I have learned that no one really knows how they might feel or how they would react until they are there.
Ever since our honeymoon, my wife and I have taken the very same vacation year after year. I do mean the very same, the same motel, same dates, the same suite in many cases for seventeen years running now, all the same.
I'm sure that sounds painfully monotonous to some and under ordinary circumstances probably would be. But, having a very narrow window of time in the spring while trying to maintain a very strict budget, we couldn't top it.
First, the locale had always been quite inexpensive, but not cheap with amenities. It had everything we were looking for in a spring vacation; great beach, great food, quiet, and all just outside our door.
However, after the first few years, we soon realized it was becoming more and more popular with the ?Spring Breakers?. As soon as they invaded Panama City Beach, it was only a matter of time before they found Ft. Walton.
Even after the Spring Breakers discovered our little piece of paradise, we continued to go. It was our place.
We finally conceded though that, if we were going to keep it our little spot, we had to live with it. And as it turns out they really weren't all that rowdy, at least not rowdy enough to run us off.
Last year however broke the mold in so very many ways. We first found ourselves literally surrounded by Spring Breakers, again not unusual for late March, but this particular year we found ourselves a literal magnet for many of the college hellions.
It took them very little time to discover that we were both educators at a community college in Columbus, Ohio. It turned out, that seemed to be the source of the magnetism attracting them to us. They were fascinated by the fact that we were normal, cool, and otherwise regular people.
Most were very standoffish at first, treating us like the police or some other higher authority, but after a couple of days they finally figured out that we were actual human beings. Into the second day, we found that the back porch of our suite was becoming the ultimate hangout for some.
Naively, I was sure at first it had to do with the fact that we always had beer and liquor and a whole lot less to do with the placement of our porch, but soon found out differently.
Many though, being the bright young folks they were, soon discovered that storing and mingling their drinkables with ours, stretched their supply a whole lot further.
Now being that folks over the age of thirty were rare during this time, you would think that they might try to be as far from us as possible, but several of the guys from the University of Georgia were awe struck with my wife, Gina. It wasn't surprising in the slightest. Gina's nickname where we teach is "Ultra MILF" with some of her male students.
It's quite interesting too, over the years she and I both began to notice that her male students always made far better grades than did her female students.
To me it was a no-brainer; they were simply trying to gain her approval. Gina always laughingly told me it was from her revolutionary teaching skills; I always rebutted, "Having a spectacular pair of legs and a nice ass is not a skill."
The fact that she was a highly sexy thirty-seven year old college educator spread like wildfire at the motel and actually got Gina even more "Hot Points," as some of the young men began calling it.
I sometimes wish I were more ignorant to men gazing at her, but hey, I'm neither naive nor stupid when it comes to what they are staring at; it's not the bikini, it's what's under it.
At 5'3", 108 lbs, Gina has a gorgeous ass, perfect curves, flawless skin, and an amazingly cute innocent looking face, the fact that she is a college professor really made little difference. If she were a bottle washer, the testosterone-filled young men at this motel would have been attracted to her.
Just into our second day there, upon returning to the motel we couldn't help noticing several of the University of Georgia guys sitting on our back porch, not at all unusual after getting to know us.
As we walked to the back side of the porch we noticed they had a small table pulled out playing a drinking game, which required the loser to down a shot, and as it appeared they must have all been losing
Gina quickly said in a joking manner as we walked up, "Boys, that's a game where even the winner's a loser in the morning."
They all laughed and began brutally heckling us to join them.
My wife playfully fired back saying, "First of all, most of you lightweights are already buzzed, and second, I'm not one of your little girly buddies who follows you around and fakes being tipsy after a shot. Oh, Brian, oh, Stan, that one shot made me a little dizzy."
That stoked them even more.
After another twenty minutes or so of this back and forth banter she finally said, "Fine... fine. Okay, even if I lose I'll be able to walk when most of you are curled up in the fetal position on the floor."
I must say I was trying my damnedest not to laugh because I knew full well what a lightweight she was in the drinking department and trying to bluff guys who majored in drinking.
After a few more minutes of this harassing joust between Gina and her antagonists, she and I went into the room to change our clothes. I arrived back out on the deck long before Gina and poured myself a large vodka tonic as we all waited for her.
