by Ben Boswell
“I don’t believe you. You’ve always been much too proper.”
She rolled her eyes. “You do know I wasn’t a virgin when we met, right?”
We’d outlined our sexual histories pretty early in our relationship. Since I was so much older than she was – seven years seemed like a lot at the time—she, in particular, was worried that I might be some sort of cad. As it turned out, we’d both had about the same number of lovers. Six for her. Seven for me.
“Oh, you were a pretty good girl, if I recall.”
“That’s only because you robbed the cradle before I had a chance to rack up some real numbers. Anyway, back then I could be tempted by the promise of a good time. And that,” she said nodding toward the bow of the boat, “would be a good time.”
Thom’s return pre-empted my reply. And it gave me a moment to think. He placed the omelets before us, and handed us each a lovely Bloody Mary with a celery stalk stirrer. I glanced over at Denny and Wallace, hard at work and sweating, and suddenly I pictured Jennifer sandwiched between them, her light skin contrasting with their darkness, her hands wrapped around Wallace’s neck as Denny reached around and cupped her tits from behind.
We ate for a few minutes in silence. Then I leaned in close. “What if I said I was okay with it?”
She coughed, nearly spitting out the sip of Bloody Mary she’d taken.
“Are you crazy?”
“What? It’s just a question. In fact, I’m just answering yours from the other night. Would I want you to, remember? What if I said the answer was yes?”
“You are crazy. Do you know what you’re saying? Because I want you to picture it in all it’s lunatic glory. It’s me, your wife, the mother of your children, naked, on her knees, giving head to another man. Sucking another man’s hard cock into my mouth, the same mouth you kiss good morning and good night. It’s another man ramming his hard prick inside my pussy. The same pussy you so enjoy licking and kissing—
“I thought you liked that.”
“I do! Which is why I wouldn’t want you to be too skeeved out to do it anymore. Even if you think you handle the act, how do you think you’d deal with the aftermath? Because fucking another man might be a silly one-off in a way, but the memory of it, even if you just hear about it later is a whole other matter.”
“I have to admit, hearing you talk about it… sort of turns me on even more.”
She slapped at my shoulder. “Stop it. You’re thinking with your little head, not the big one.”
“Okay, okay. I know you’re right. And I don’t know why it so turns me on all of a sudden. It’s just… I don’t know.”
She shook her head, but when she spoke she was more amused than annoyed. “Wealth has made you loopy. It happens to a lot of people. Snap out of it.”
I nodded and began working on my omelet. But I guess couldn’t help grinning about the whole discussion.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked.
I laughed. “Well, even though you want to make this seem like it is just my crazy idea, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into it.”
She started to protest, but I cut her off.
“Admit it.”
She hesitated. Then replied. “Yeah, okay. But for me it’s a fantasy. Just a fantasy.”
“So was the idea of being able to afford a week-long cruise on a luxury yacht with our own chef and crew. Just a fantasy, and now…”
I trailed off as I noticed Captain Wallace approaching. I peeked over at Jennifer who was blushing profusely and had her face buried in her omelet to hide it. I looked back up at him.
“Good morning,” he said in his melodious voice. “I hope you slept well?”
“Yeah, we didn’t stir until after the sun was up.”
“The bed was delicious,” Jennifer purred.
I glanced over at her and went wide-eyed. Her robe was on the verge of a full-blown wardrobe malfunction. Loosened at the top I could see the tops of her breasts, and it had ridden up her legs, exposing a dangerous expanse of creamy, inner thigh. From his vantage, Wallace was probably getting an even better view. In theory, she might have had a bra and panties on, but I suspected he realized what I knew, that she was buck naked underneath.
“And did Thom discuss my suggestion with you?”
My wife glanced over at me. I hastily tried to signal she was more exposed than she realized. She gave me a saucy smile. This was no accident. She’d deliberately loosened the robe. It was an instant hard-on.
“Cat seems to have gotten my husband’s tongue,” she teased. “Yes, Captain, he did. And that sounds fine. I have just the right bikini for laying out on a pink sand beach.”
He laughed, though I could see in his eyes that he was now imagining her in a bikini. “Perfect then. Let us know when you’re ready and I’ll have Denny ferry you to the shore.”
She gave him a little pout. “Not you? We do so enjoy your personal attention.”
He hesitated and shot me a quick glance, but I was too lost in a fog to react other than to give him a slack smile.
“Don’t worry madam. I am completely at your disposal.” He paused, then, “Well, I had better get back up front and fix that winch. I don’t relish the idea of pulling up the anchor by hand this afternoon.”
“No, I imagine not,” she cooed. “It does seem hot… and sweaty.”
He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily. I imagined his own shorts were getting tight, though I managed to avoid shooting a glance in that direction. The only thing more mortifying than my sitting silent as my wife flirted with him would have been to be caught peeking at his crotch.
“Hey, Reg, I think I found the problem,” Denny called from the front of the boat.
Wallace smiled at both of us and then excused himself. When I looked over at Jennifer it was all she could do to avoid bursting out laughing.
“Well, I’m going to take a shower,” she announced as she finished off her eggs.
She stood and began walking down the stairs toward the salon. She paused and removed her bathrobe.
“I won’t be needing this anymore,” she said as she threw it in my direction.
Oh God, she was completely naked, walking down the stairs, through the windowed salon, into our stateroom. I looked around frantically, but suddenly couldn’t see any of the crew. Reg and Denny were at the bow, hidden by the dismantled winch, so they probably couldn’t see her. Or could they? Had either one of them gone below deck to get tools or something? And Thom? Where was he?
I grabbed her robe, held it crotch high to hide my erection, and duck-walked after her, torn between terror at her running into one of the crew in her current state and excitement at the possibility of it. As I crossed the salon, I realized we were alone… unless one of them had followed her into our cabin… but no, as I crossed that threshold, there was still no one… but what about in the bathroom, where I could hear the shower running and Jennifer softly humming to herself.
I burst into the head, which is an oddly crude term for such a lavishly appointed bathroom. She was alone, naked in the shower.
“Who is it?” she called out. “I have soap in my eyes, and I can’t see.”
She turned and placed her hands on the glass shower stall and thrust out her ass at me… well, at whomever might have followed her as she nakedly walked through the boat.
I growled involuntarily, stripping out of my clothes before I even realized what I was doing. I stepped into the shower behind her.
“Captain, is that you?” she trilled. “Would you mind soaping up my back. I feel so dirty.”
“Yeah, you’re dirty alright,” I grunted, trying and failing to get my bass voice going.
I reached down with both hands and massaged her hard ass. I leaned up against her so she could feel my erection.
“Oh Captain, give it to me fast. Before my husband comes back.”
“That’s all it would take Jennifer, wouldn’t it? Me being out of the picture for a little while.”
“That’s right Jeremy,” she said, switching smoothly into the new game. “You see how we look at each other. If you left us alone, even for just a few minutes, he’d be fucking my brains out. And I’d let him Jeremy. Yes, I would. Feel how wet I am thinking of him.”
I reached between her legs, felt her pussy wet from the shower, and pressed a finger inside her, finding her even wetter there with excitement. I pumped my digit in and out of her hot, tight snatch, my other hand mauling her butt cheek, spreading her ass and catching quick glimpses of her puckered anus, glistening as soapy water ran down her crack. I pulled my finger from her pussy and trailed it up between her cheeks, pausing at her asshole.
“Would you give him this?”
She hesitated, but just for a second. “Yes, baby. I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me. That’s what you want to hear, right? I’d let him do anything. Even things I’ve never done with you.”
The image formed unbidden in my mind. His big, black cock forcing its way into her virgin asshole. I shuddered and with knees bent slightly pressed up against her. My cock head sliding across her swollen labia, once twice, and then it was as if her pussy reached out and swallowed my cock whole.
I slammed into her, pressing her body against the transparent wall of the shower. I imagined what that would look like from the other side, her breasts mashed against the glass as I quickly thrust into her. I realized too late how close I was. I tried to slow, but she thrust her ass back against me, taking me deep and before I knew it I was coming inside her. I tried to continue, but standing in a shower is a very bad position to attempt with a softening willy. It slipped out.
“Oh shit,” I groaned.
“It’s okay, sweetie.”
I reached around and slid my hand over her belly and down. “I can—”
She pushed me away. “You don’t need to. Anyway, I sort of like the idea of you owing me one. Who knows how I might choose to cash that in?”
She gave me a lewd smile and I felt another twitch.
“Now, get out of here and let me finish my shower before the hot water runs out.”
She shooed me out, though she didn’t seem to mind that I remained in the bathroom for a few more moments watching her shower. Damn but she looked sexy. How could I even think of sharing her? I shook my head and grabbed a towel to dry myself off.
***
After she was done, I went in to take a quick shower myself. I’d expected to find her getting ready when I got out, but she was already gone. I quickly dressed myself and went up top.
Sure enough that’s where I found her, standing by the railing in a skimpy, dark blue bikini, wide-brimmed sun hat, and cork sandals… and surrounded by the members of the crew, who were competing to give her tips and suggestions about Harbour Island and Dunmore Town.
“Definitely The Landing for lunch,” Thom suggested. Given his own culinary skills, I was inclined to accept the advice.
“Stop by the Rock House for a Goombay Smash,” added Reg.
The energy in the conversation noticeably dimmed as they saw me approach. For a brief moment, I got the impression that all three of the men were considering bludgeoning me over the head and tossing me overboard. Not that they weren’t perfectly pleasant, but still.
“I can bring you to the beach whenever you’re ready,” Denny said as the group scattered.
“I have a picnic basket to bring with you,” Thom added over his shoulder.
I shook my head, amused at Jennifer. “Quite the little fan club you have.”
She batted her eyelashes. “Little ol’ me?”
“Not that I can blame them,” I added. “That’s quite the suit. I see what you mean about it being impractical.”
She laughed. “No, this one you can actually swim in. It doesn’t get transparent, it’s not string, and it’s not mesh.”
“You brought a mesh bikini?”
She nodded then leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “It’s actually a little obscene. You can see things.”
I shuddered. She wouldn’t really wear such a thing out in public? And how would I feel about it if she did? I adjusted my pants.
“Shall we get going?”
“We shall,” she replied gaily.
She reached into her beach bag and pulled out a sheer, white, tasseled cover-up and pulled it over her head. She gave me a wicked little smile when she realized I’d gotten the point. She could have put it on before leaving the cabin, but she wanted to give the guys a little tease.
Denny steered the rubber dinghy to shore, his eyes glued to my wife as he talked above the motor about a great snorkeling spot he hoped to show us the next day. Jennifer smiled brightly at him, hanging on his every word.
We disembarked on the beach, bags and picnic basket in hand. Denny gave us a radio with which to contact the boat. He waved us goodbye and we walked across the pink sand to find a good spot to set up camp for a bit. As the dinghy bobbed and weaved back to the boat, I couldn’t help but wonder what Thom, Denny, and Reg would be saying about Jennifer when we were safely out of earshot.
I laid out a blanket and we sat down. Jennifer pried open the picnic basket to see what Thom had packed for us. She had removed her cover-up and I’d stripped down to my swim trunks. The sun felt gorgeous.
“What do you think they’re going to be talking about back on the boat?” I asked.
Jennifer laughed. “Probably the same thing we’ve been talking about. Introducing me to the wonders of the black cock.”
I winced.
Another laugh. “God, Jeremy, I can’t quite figure you out. I mean, that is where you were going, wasn’t it?”
“Sure, but it still gives me a jolt to hear you saying it.”
“Well, I do hope that’s enough for you, because that’s as far as it goes. Oooh, you want some sliced pineapple?”
“Yeah,” I replied, taking from her a small tub of fruit. “See, now I’m the one who can’t figure you out. I mean, you keep saying it is just a fantasy, but then on the boat... You do know the effect you have on men.”
She tried to wave that away.
“No, seriously,” I continued, “there’s no way you could dress like you do sometimes—”
“I thought you liked my outfits,” she interrupted.
“I do. I really do. But my point is just that only a woman who is confidently sexy could pull it off.”
She shrugged. “Guys are suckers for blond hair.”
She pulled out a half bottle of champagne and waggled it in my directions. I nodded and took the bottle, removing the foil as she fished out a couple of plastic champagne flutes.
“Okay, it’s more than that, but okay. Point is—”
I poured the bubbly in the glasses she held out.
“What? I’m a cocktease?”
“No,” I replied slowly.
She held out her glass and we tried to clink, though the sound of plastic on plastic was less than satisfying.
“Well, maybe a little,” I admitted.
“I’m not obligated to screw a guy just because he finds me attractive. And why should I have to cover up when I want to look sexy for my husband?”
“So, all for me, huh?”
She nodded. “Yes. Even the teasing. And anyway, that’s all we need. A little slack in my bathrobe and you’re already as worked up as a teenager.”
Ugh, my underwhelming performance in the shower. “I’m sorry about that.”
She laughed. “I’m just kidding. Seriously. I think its cute that I can still get you so excited that you finish in thirty seconds.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”
“I mean, let’s not make it a habit. You do still owe me one,” she grinned. “Oh my….” She pulled out a long, thin, ribbed Lucite wand from the basket. “What do you think this is?”
Had they packed us a sex toy? I looked at it more closely.
“I think it’s to keep the wine cool.”
She touched the side. “Ah, yup.
Need to get my mind out of the gutter. Too thin to be a good dildo anyway, isn’t it?” She inserted the pseudo phallus into the champagne bottle.
“Anyway,” she continued, “as I was saying, it seems to me that talking about it is good enough, isn’t it? As long as it gets that kind of reaction? And anyway, you couldn’t handle more.”
Again with the idea that I was the limiting factor here. “And you could?”
She laughed. “I told you. If I were younger and single, I’d be back on that yacht exploring the limits of depravity.”
I smirked. “No you wouldn’t.”
“Oh come on Jeremy, is that where we really are as a couple? You double dog dare me to screw Captain Wallace. I triple dog dare you to stop me?”
She was right, it was a silly conversation, so I opted to make it sillier.
“What? Huh? You wanna do it doggy style?”
She kicked some sand in my direction. “Well, this dog is going for a swim. Coming?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, she stood up and pranced across the sand into the warm, turquoise ocean. I followed in after and we splashed together in the surf like a couple of kids.
When we got out, I reapplied her sunscreen. As pale as her skin is, applying sunscreen is something of a ritual. Need to get everywhere otherwise she burns, and Jennifer is cranky when she’s sunburned. Then we each pulled out a trashy paperback and read on the beach as the waves lapped rhythmically against the shore.
***
A little after noon, we packed up our stuff and headed a few hundred yards across the island to Dunmore Town. We were both a little hungry, so we went right away to the Landing.
We settled in on the terrace. A light breeze kicked in from the west, bathing us in its moist, salty embrace. I let myself get tempted by the conch fritters; I was pretty sure Thom didn’t have a deep fryer on board. Jennifer ordered the seafood salad. We paired them with an overpriced California Chardonnay. It was barely 1:00pm and we were on our third different alcoholic beverage.
Jennifer had been pensive for about the last hour, so I knew something was coming.
“So, how long Jeremy?”
“Huh?”
“How long have you been fantasizing about me being with other men? I mean I know it’s a thing. I just didn’t know it was your thing.”