by Ben Boswell
***
In swim trunks and a tee shirt, I went back downstairs. It was quiet, and the only one around seemed to be Chris. I glanced over my shoulder up the stairs where my wife was still showering. It didn’t take much of a leap of intuition to realize he was just waiting for me to leave so he could go upstairs and pick up where I’d left off in the shower. And strangely, part of me was tempted to walk right out the door and to the beach so that he could do just that.
The other part of me could taste the bile in my throat, particularly when it occurred to me this might not be his plan alone, but perhaps something he and Marie had cooked up in advance. After all, if after fucking all night, the first thing she wanted to do when the sun came up was suck his cock again, I had to imagine she was eager for still more.
I could picture her spying on me, waiting for me to leave, and then climbing up on our bed, naked, on her hands and knees, hot pussy pointed at the door so he could just walk in, drop trou, and slip her the meat. I wondered if it would turn her on for him to fuck her with my fresh load still inside her. I wondered if it would turn him on. And surprisingly, I wondered if it would turn me on.
He noticed me finally.
“Hey, Dan, got a minute?”
“Um… sure…” I answered.
This was uncomfortable. Why would it be sort of hot to think of this guy fucking my wife, but incredibly awkward to talk to him face-to-face?
“So, man, we okay?” he asked.
It was at that moment that I realized I would probably never be a real swinger, because I think if you’re a real swinger, you’re supposed to take the guy’s hand, give it a firm shake, and compliment him on the first class rogering he gave your wife.
“Um, I… guess so.”
He gave me a queer look. “Yeah? Or not? I’m having trouble reading you guys.”
“Did you know what was up? I mean, before you got here?”
He laughed. “Well, I was pretty sure Claire was up to something. I mean, she’s been shaking her tits in my face for the last couple of weeks. So I knew I was walking into some sort of scene. And once I got here, Lena sure seemed DTF.”
“No, I meant about Marie.”
He hesitated.
“I know you guys dated.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I’m still trying to work that one out. Weird fucking coincidence if it’s a coincidence. And then that got me thinking, maybe Marie’s, like, stalking me. She sees that I work in the same place as her friend, and then, bing, bang, boom, I get invited out here, and she’s working my pole like old times.”
I got a knot in the pit of my stomach.
He concluded, “So you tell me, coincidence or set-up?”
“I don’t know.”
He shrugged. “But you’re cool with it either way?”
Was I? “What happened with you and her?”
He laughed. “Damned if I know. She runs up to me, all wild eyed and red-faced, nips pressing through her shirt, and she starts tearing me a new one, and then she’s poking me in the chest, and we’re tangled up, and before I knew it, she’s breathing in my ear and humping my leg.”
That actually wasn’t inconsistent with her story.
I shook my head. “No. I meant, years ago, when you broke up.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That you were screwing around with other girls.”
He grinned. “I’ve never been big on monogamy.”
Confirmation, but he was holding something back. “So that was it?”
“Probably part of it. See, the thing is, I don’t think we ever actually agreed to be exclusive. I think it is less that I was screwing around, and more that I didn’t seem to want to stop.”
Now that was interesting. She’d made it seem like she was getting tired of him, but was it just that he wouldn’t commit?
“Why’d you lead her on if you never planned to get serious?”
He laughed. “Well, first of all, I didn’t lead her on. Second, I didn’t think it was an issue. She always made it seem like she always just thought of me as a good time. And last, fuck, you know, she’s an epic lay.”
I made a sour face.
“What?” he persisted. “I mean, look at the games you guys are up to, which I’d think is totally cool, even if it hadn’t given me the opportunity to spend some time with one of my favorite old flames.”
It wasn’t so much that I was speechless, in the sense of being struck dumb, but rather I was at a loss about how to reply. I’d always enjoyed sex with Marie. She’s pretty and active and responsive and generous and all those good things. But I don’t think I’d ever classed her as “epic.” Maybe that should be on me, though, because I had to admit that both the snippets of stories about her relationship with C.J. and what I’d witnessed last night were, I guess, pretty epic.
I’d been silent long enough that it was getting uncomfortable. His smirk turning to a quizzical grimace.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
He grinned. “They went down to the beach, the girls spilling out of their bikinis and Brad dragging a cooler full of beer.”
And why aren’t you with them? I glanced over my shoulder. I didn’t ask the question. I didn’t want to hear the answer.
I went into the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and a small Tupperware of leftover pasta.
“I think I’ll join them,” I said.
“Be there in a bit,” he replied.
Uh huh, after you have a little more fun with my wife.
***
When I arrived at the beach alone, Claire and Lena exchange amused grins. I grabbed a beer, sat down heavily in a beach chair, and stared at the surf.
“Where’s Brad?”
“Running on the beach,” Lena replied.
“You okay?” Claire asked.
I nodded. I wasn’t really sure I was. It isn’t like I was being left out of the bacchanalia, so I didn’t really have any grounds to complain. But, on the other hand, I was feeling a little used and manipulated. And it didn’t help that I knew that the moment I left the house, C.J. ran right up the stairs and was even now surely balls deep in my wife yet again.
I scanned up and down the beach. Mid-week it was pretty quiet. To our right, an elderly couple huddled beneath a white and blue striped, beach umbrella. To our left, maybe 30 yards away was a family, three young kids, two boys digging a hole in the sand, a little girl playing with a pony, and a blonde wife, a little chubby. I laughed when I noticed the husband not-so-surreptitiously stealing glances at Claire and Lena in their skimpy bikinis. Yeah, I didn’t have anything to complain about… except for the image in my mind of Marie sucking on C.J.’s thumb as his fat tool stretched out her pretty little pussy.
“He doesn’t seem okay,” Lena noted.
She was propped up on her elbows looking at me over the top of her oversized sunglasses. My gaze was drawn inevitably to her dangling breasts. She gave me a smirk.
“Maybe he needs a little attention,” Claire said.
“Just what I was thinking,” Lena replied. She crawled over to me sensuously and climbed into my lap.
Her body was hot and sweaty and smelled of salt and sunscreen. Her heavy boobs grazed against my chest.
“Is that better?” Lena asked.
Claire edged closer. “You’re not upset about Marie having a little fun, are you?” I looked over at her. She’d pulled her bikini top to the side and was tweaking her hard, red nipple. “What’s the big deal?”
All this attention was making me a little lightheaded.
“What happens when we go home?” I asked.
Lena began to grind against me.
“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” Claire replied.
“Have you and Marie talked about it?” I asked.
She hooted. “Not yet. I mean, it’s been hard to find a moment when she isn’t sucking on Chris’ fat cock…. Is that what you think she’s doing now?”
“Proba
bly.”
“I wish I were sucking on a cock,” Lena breathed in my ear.
I snorted. It felt like pity.
Lena chuckled good-naturedly. “Don’t be such a sour puss. I am grinding on your dick and I have my titties in your face.”
“Maybe he needs a story,” Claire suggested.
“Oooh, that’s a good idea,” Lena cooed. “Should it be about me or my sister?”
“I don’t know that I can handle any more revelations about Marie quite yet,” I replied.
Lena smirked and then turned toward Claire. “Do you like eating pussy?”
Claire laughed. “Haven’t had the pleasure… yet.”
“Mmmm,” Lena replied. “We’ll need to put that on the list.”
“What list?” I asked.
The girls exchanged a glance. They’d been conspiring. It was both terrifying and thrilling.
Lena ground against me. “Do you want to hear about the first time I ate pussy?”
I didn’t need to answer. My prick was hard as a rock, and she could feel it.
“It was freshman year at college,” she began. “I was seeing this guy, frat guy, a senior. Travis.” She paused. “Well, I’m not sure I was seeing him. It was more that he was fucking my tight, little, eighteen-year-old pussy. He was a senior, totally hot, blond hair, hazel eyes. Great hands. And I was sooo into pleasing him.”
She glanced over at Claire who was watching us hungrily. Lena was moving her ass in delicious little circles. Not enough to make me come; just enough to short-circuit my brain and keep me completely focused on her.
“I’d have done anything for him,” she continued. “And I did.” She paused. “I sucked his cock. I titty fucked him. I swallowed his come. I even let him put it in my ass.”
Claire sighed. Lena smiled.
“And then one night, we were at this party together, and he was talking to this tall, skinny brunette, and I was so fucking jealous. She was an upperclassman too, and they obviously had something going on between them. She seemed so put together, so, like grown up, and I just felt like a little girl.”
I found it hard to believe that Lena had ever been anything other than preternaturally self-confident.
“So I decided to make Travis jealous. I started flirting with one of his frat brothers. He just seemed amused… even when I let this other guy put his hands on me, and even when I started grinding against him while dancing. Even when we started sucking face. I was getting horny, and I was already angry, and I was working myself up to fucking his frat brother just to spite him. Except, it seemed like he didn’t care, which made me nuts.”
I could imagine it. Lena was not used to being ignored or taken for granted.
“I let this guy pull me into a corner. He started getting real aggressive, grabbing between my legs. He pulled down my top and grabbed my tit. I turned to make sure Travis could see. He was watching me, and so was the girl. She spoke in his ear and they both laughed. My blood boiled.
“The guy I was making out with started telling me what he was going to do to me. How good he was going to fuck me. How hard. I was ready to go with him when Travis walked over.
“I sneered at him. ‘What do you want, I’m busy?’ He just laughed. ‘Later. You’re coming with me,’ he replied. I wanted to stay strong, but when he took my hand, I couldn’t resist. I followed him over to his friend. He introduced her as Morgan. She smirked at me. ‘Come on,’ he said to both of us.
“I didn’t know what was going on, but all three of us went to his room. I kept expecting him to get rid of her. He’d come for me, so what the fuck was going on?”
She paused and looked me in the eye. “But you know what he wanted, right?”
I nodded.
“It’s what all guys want, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied, my throat dry.
“Do you want to know what she did to me?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes,” gasped Claire.
Lena grinned. “Morgan started taking off her clothes, and Travis ordered me to get naked. I told him I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was so confident, so sexy. Long legs, she had these cool tattoos. A poem on her rib cage, a dragon on her abdomen. She had a trimmed, dark triangle, and I could see her red pussy lips. Travis pulled off my shirt and unsnapped my bra. Morgan, naked, yanked at my jeans.”
“You ever have a threesome?” Lena asked Claire.
Claire blushed a little. “No. But I’ve thought of it.”
“Hmmm, I bet you have.”
Lena turned back to me and gave me a fiery gaze. She licked her lips and continued, “That nasty whore raped me. She ate my pussy and then she sat on my face and made me lick her snatch. She was so wet and hot, and her juices ran down my cheeks. Would you have liked to see that?”
“God yes,” I grunted.
“And then --”
“Um, excuse me,” came an angry voice.
I looked up to see the blonde woman from down the beach standing over us, hand on her ample hip. She had a pretty face and probably had a hot body before three kids had taken their toll.
“Excuse me,” she repeated, “but this is a family beach. Could you and your whores take it elsewhere?”
Claire laughed. Her tit was still hanging out.
Lena turned and looked past the woman toward her husband. “What’s the matter, hubby getting a woody watching us?”
“Listen, you little, walking, petri dish, I don’t care what you stick in your infected holes in private, but I got kids and I don’t need you out here fucking in public. Show a little respect.”
Lena spun out of my lap, and replied, “Shit, I’d be checking out other women too if I was married to a stuck-up cunt like you.” She put her hand on her hip to match the woman and smiled at the woman’s husband. “Tell your man to drop by if he wants to get a decent fuck for once.”
Claire and I both chuckled, breaking the tension.
“Relax, Sweetie,” Claire said to the woman. “We’re just having fun.”
“We’ll stop,” I said, more conciliatory.
The woman sighed, paused, and then spun on her heels before walking her plump ass back to her kids and husband.
“Well,” Lena grumbled, “that was a buzzkill.”
I was feeling unaccountably proud of myself. I’d never been a pimp before. I wasn’t one now, but I was tickled pink that this strange woman might think so.
“You guys getting into fights?” Brad asked as he approached us. He’d finished his run and taken a dip in the ocean to cool off. His wet curls made him again look a little like a shaggy dog, an impression he reinforced when he shook his head and sprayed water on the girls and me.
Claire shrieked.
“It was warmer when you sprayed me last night,” Lena said.
We shared a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” asked Marie. She was cradling a stack of plastic cups and trailed by Chris carrying two pitchers of margaritas. She was wearing a light-blue bikini with a narrow-cut bottom that would have seemed provocative were Lena and Claire not dressed like porn stars.
“Oh, so that’s what you two were doing,” Claire said, gesturing at the pitchers.
“At least for part of the time,” my wife responded as Chris grinned.
So much for being a pimp.
“Your husband was squabbling with the natives,” Brad said, nodding over his shoulder at the woman down the beach who was giving us the hairy eyeball and surely muttering curses under her breath.
“Oh?” asked Marie.
Claire shrugged. “She didn’t seem pleased that your sister was giving your husband a lap dance.”
“And telling him about my lesbian experiences,” Lena added.
Maybe I was a pimp after all.
“Was there a guy involved?” Chris asked of Lena.
She nodded. He shot a grin at my wife, who gave him a quick, desperate head shake. Too late. We’d all caught it.
Claire laughed. “Don’t worry about it. There isn’t a girl under 50 who hasn’t lezzed out at least a little for a guy.”
She hadn’t eaten pussy or had a threesome, but that apparently didn’t mean she’d never fooled around with another girl.
Brad turned toward his wife. “Yeah?”
She laughed again. “Oh Hubby, I’ve probably done things that would curl your toes.” She fired off a quick glance at Chris to make sure he’d heard as well.
He had. He smiled broadly, though I noticed Marie give her friend a slightly sour, jealous look. Now that she had her claws back into C.J. she didn’t seem inclined to share. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about that. I was okay, sorta at least, with some sort of “what happens at the beach stays at the beach” deal, not that I had any real choice, but I didn’t think I’d be up for a lifestyle change, though again, no one seemed to be consulting me on it.
“Should we pour those?” I asked.
Marie looked down at the cups in her hand as if surprised to see them, but then recovered and passed the cups around as C.J. circulated and filled them. It was hot on the beach, and a slushy, tangy mix perfectly hit the spot.
“Volleyball?” Brad suggested.
I chuckled. “That woman is going to pop a gasket if the three of them,” I nodded toward the girls, “start jumping around in those outfits.”
“She’s just feeling left out,” Claire suggested. “Why don’t you boys change into some Speedos?”
“Or banana hammocks.” Lena proposed.
Marie laughed. “What?”
“You know, Sis, the male equivalent of a g-string, ass bare, just a pouch in the front….” She paused. “Though I don’t know if Brad could fit his snake in one of those.”
“C.J. either,” my wife said with a chuckle. She seemed to remember herself and gave me an apologetic grimace.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ve plenty of experience with things popping out of swimsuits today.” I glanced pointedly at her sister’s top.
Marie scowled. She really didn’t like the idea of my fooling around with her little sister. Not that I could blame her, but then again, her apparent inability to stop falling on C.J.’s dick was making it easy for me.