She slaps me, playfully but fairly hard. Then she sits up and slides her feet around to the side of the bed. She leans over and picks up her panties, and then she tosses them aside. “Let’s go get breakfast,” she says. “I feel a little rough.”
“Wait a minute,” I say. I pull on her arm, and I’m pleased that she’s wriggling away, but with a smile. Still playful. “I want to hear more about this, ‘but...’”
And Jackie says:
“You just want to hear more about butts.” She holds the panties up again and sighs. “These are trashed,” she says. Then she looks behind her, at my stunned face, and smiles. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go have breakfast. I guess they put cinnamon in the coffee or something.”
I lean back on the bed with my hands behind my head. “Now there’s a detail you certainly remembered to read.”
Jackie laughs, and there it is again. That funny element to her laugh.
She stands up, naked and beautiful.
“Are you going like that?” I say suggestively.
She puts a hand on her hip and tosses her hair. She does this so convincingly that I actually get a little worried again when she says: ‘I thought I’d give it a try.”
I raise my eyebrows and make some kind of face.
“No,” she says, snorting a little and tossing a pillow at me.
“Why not?” I ask, returning to my relieved joking mode.
She is in the bathroom now. “Yeah,” she says, and I hear the sound of a toothbrush in her mouth. “I’m sure the whole place is just dying to look at a forty-two year old woman walking around naked.”
“They are if she’s hot,” I say.
Jackie spits her toothpaste out and I hear her give an incredulous snort. “Okay. Anyway, get up, I’m getting cranky.”
I jump out of bed, onto one foot, tipping slightly as I try to balance and keep the weight off my foot. “Yes, ma'am,” I say.
*
We go to breakfast at a rooftop restaurant. I think both of us are a little hungover (well, I am definitely hungover and more than just a little). We don’t say much until the food arrives.
Jackie has ordered Eggs Benedict and, to my utter surprise, after they arrive she lifts a hand to touch the waiter’s elbow. He smiles at her the way almost everyone at this place seems to do, and it makes my cock twitch and my stomach sink all at the same time.
“Can I get a Bloody Mary, too?” Jackie asks him.
Only Jackie’s question – is it my imagination? - is not as neutral as it usually is. Or as it would be, if all she were doing was ordering a Bloody Mary from a waiter. She lifts her sunglasses up to her head, for one thing, to give him a nice view of her pretty blue eyes. Her eyelashes flutter and she brings her hand to her mouth to chew on her pinkie finger.
Which… come on.
It’s something a guy can only interpret one way.
“I’ll have a beer, then,” I say gruffly, slamming my menu closed.
The waiter's gaze lingers on my wife for just a moment too long before he turns his attention to me. “Of course,” he says. “What kind would you like?”
“Tecate,” I say. It’s a shitty Mexican beer but for some reason it’s the only one that immediately comes to mind, probably because I saw an ad for it on a table.
“One Tecate,” the waiter responds, and then looks back at Jackie with his lecherous smile. “And one Bloody Mary.”
Jackie flutters her eyes again and hands him the menu, which should be a neutral thing to do, but she somehow does it sexually.
I stare at her as she practically waves at the waiter like they’re lovers saying goodbye for a year apart.
She flips her head back at me and leans on her elbows. She gives the sunglasses a tap and they slide down to her nose with a snap.
“What are you doing?” I ask her, in a mock whisper.
She shrugs, folding her fingers together under her chin. “Just checking out your hypothesis. Having fun. I thought you liked it?”
“I… well… I do,” I blabber. “I… yeah. Okay.”
Jackie leans back in her chair. She laughs at me. “Oh, jeez, Sy. They’re waiters, I’m sure they have a staff meeting every morning where they’re like, make sure to flirt with the cougars.”
Jackie is killing it.
“Cougars?” I say. “You hardly look like a cougar.”
Jackie relaxes her hands on the armrests, and then taps her fingers on them playfully. She makes a pucker out of her mouth. “That’s true,” she says. “I don’t really have cougar-chest.”
I have brought a glass of water up to my mouth, and the laugh just explodes into it, sending a whole cube of ice tumbling out of the glass and onto the table. This is because I know exactly what she means: the mottled, over-sunned leather skin on the chest of an older woman.
Which Jackie most certainly does not have.
She is grinning at me.
“Anyway,” she says. “Calm down. I’m just playing around.”
The funny element to her voice again. She says this almost like she's challenging me.
I lean back in my chair. Electric excitement is traveling over my skin again, and my stomach is twisting itself into knots. We’re back on this topic again, and Jackie is… well, amenable, at least… to discussing it.
“Well,” I say. “You could always do something more than that.”
Jackie lifts her sunglasses again. “Oh I could, could I?”
I nod.
She lets the glasses drop. “Really,” she says, and it’s a statement, not a question. “And you would be okay with that?”
I try to act cool. This is just a casual discussion, that’s all. A nice, calm, casual discussion about my deepest fantasies and desires, at a swingers' resort. That’s all. I shrug, but I realize it comes across as forced. “You know I’d be okay with it.”
Jackie smiles and looks up at the umbrella above us. “Are we talking just flirting here, or something else? I mean, seriously, Sy, because I’ll just say this, right at the start: I’m not going to end up on the beach in some foursome.”
She looks at me over her glass as she lifts it to her lips, and again I’m caught up in the strange expression on her face. I can’t tell if she’s serious or joking, teasing me or admonishing me for having dirty thoughts, or being ironic, or what.
I have absolutely no idea what she’s up to with this look. You’re married forever and a day and all of the sudden you have no idea who this person is.
I smile and take a sip of my water.
I’ve decided that the less I say, the better.
Our food is coming anyway.
*
We eat, and then Jackie says she wants to relax at the pool for a bit. She wore her black suit under her fairly conservative cover-up: a loose black linen shirt with billowing sleeves and a pair of jean shorts that are pleasantly short.
It’s nothing, of course, compared to what the women around here are wearing – or not wearing, there was a naked couple at breakfast – but it’s hot.
We go straight from the restaurant to the expansive pool and bar area on the first floor, in the center of the u-shaped hotel layout.
Jackie sighs. “I suppose you can’t go in the pool bar,” she says, looking down at my foot.
“You know,” I say. “Why don’t I just sit over here...” I motion vaguely at a line of reclining chairs against the back retaining wall, where no one is sitting or probably ever does. The wall is providing a lot of shade, along with the umbrellas, and the spot is tucked away enough that no one will notice me, but not so remote that I don’t have a pretty good view of the bar and pool area.
Jackie looks at where I’ve pointed incredulously.
“That way,” I add, “you can go have some fun. By yourself.”
Jackie looks back at the pool. It’s almost lunch, and there are quite a few people floating in the pool, dangling feet in the water, and sitting at the bar. Some of them are very attractive, some very young, and some
quite old. In fact, it looks like a pretty normal scene at any resort, except that there is a definite sexual vibe to the place. I’m much more attuned to it now. I suppose at this sort of place, if you know that most people are here for the same thing, you get a little bolder about how you send messages to the opposite sex.
She puts her hand on her hip. Then she looks back at me. “Seriously?” she says.
I shrug, again trying to look oh-so-casual, and probably failing. “Let’s test your hypothesis. I think plenty of men will be interested in a forty-two-year old woman, especially at this place. I bet you’ll have a guy flirting with you in like ten minutes.”
Jackie rolls her eyes; I can’t exactly see it through her sunglasses, but the face she makes reveals that she’s doing it.
But she heads over to the shady area I pointed to just now.
She looks behind her as she walks.
That look again, even though I can’t see her eyes.
“Ten minutes, huh?” I think I hear her say. “I think I can do it in less.”
I’m not sure I’ve heard her correctly, so I don’t say anything back. Jackie’s surprising me every minute, and while that’s a ton of fun it also feels like… slippage. My stomach twists again.
It’s too late, though. She’s already out of earshot.
She turns back at me when she gets to the edge of the pool, and then she extends her leg with her hands on her thigh to dip her toe in the water. She's exaggerating, being a little silly, and I know that it's almost a sarcastic gesture.
But the other men probably just see a very sexy fortyish woman looking stunning as she lengthens her lean thigh to step into the pool water with an impish smile.
Jackie steps in slowly, and then glides into the water on her stomach. She playfully floats out to the center of the pool and then flips onto her back, dipping her dark hair into the water. Her conical breasts float above the surface, the water spills over her tummy, a tiny roundness floating out of the water. Her legs kick sensually and her lean arms spread out. She is picture-perfect in the center of the pool, and as I look around, I see that she's not going unnoticed, in spite of the plethora of pretty women sitting around half-naked on the edges of the pool.
Jackie paddles around for a bit, and I enjoy the scene. She stands up after a while and pushes the water from her hair. It looks jet-black like her suit, and has the appearance of being straight and much longer than it is, clicked back from her forehead. She glides to the pool bar, and takes a seat. I'm a bit disappointed that she sits alone, at the edge of the bar.
It isn't long, though, before a man comes floating over to her. He seems pretty young, though it's hard to tell from where I am. He has dark hair and a toned body, and there's no mistaking his intentions as he sits down next to my wife.
I don't know what I was expecting Jackie to do if something like this happened. I guess I figured that she'd get shy and start laughing or wave the guy away. Instead, she smiles, and starts sensually stroking the straw in her drink. Before I know it, she's turning toward him, leaning back a little in her seat, kicking her legs out in his direction, sort of floating next to him invitingly. Her mouth is open and she's smiling.
My wife, I realize, is flirting with this guy. A pleasurable chill runs through my body. I adjust myself in my seat. My cock is thickening as I watch her, kicking her legs in the water alongside this stranger's thighs, her mouth open and inviting.
I watch them talk for a while. Jackie finishes her drink, and then has another with this guy. I feel hot jealousy creeping along the back of my neck.
They talk for a while, while I sit burning in the shade. I feel myself silently urging the guy to drop his hand into the water casually and put his hand on Jackie's thigh, then run it along her leg and up to her bikini top. I can already picture him working his fingers under the fabric, bunching it up as his fingers move over her ass, inward to her crack, between her buttocks...
But they just flirt. Jackie doesn't even look over at me, and as I sit there, I have the perverse thought that she's just completely forgotten that she's married.
After about half an hour, the guy leaves, and Jackie twists her drink straw and waves goodbye to him. Then at last she looks over at me. It's a pretty good distance but I can see the corner of her mouth turn up in a wicked little smile, and I have to admit I'm a little relieved that she hasn't just forgotten about me entirely.
She orders another drink and takes an extra-long time, with her back turned to me, talking to the bartender, who is also quite happy to flirt with her. Then she slides out of the chair and into the water, crosses languidly to the stairs, and slinks along the edge of the pool and back to me. She is grinning when she gets to where I am.
“So?” she says, but she has an expression on her face that indicates that she already knows how she's affected me.
“Hot,” I say, because it's the only thing I can really think of.
She sits down on a lounge chair next to me and stretches out her legs, which are still glistening with drops of water from the pool. “Really?” she says.
Then she adds, “That was kind of fun.”
I look over at her. She shrugs. “I guess I understand it a little better, you know, after doing it?”
I am openly staring at her with my sunglasses sliding down my nose.
Jackie looks at me. “What?” she says. She shrugs again. “It was kind of fun, thinking about you over here watching me.” She leans back in her chair and settles her shoulders against it. She drops her sunglasses and hides her eyes again, and I'm not sure what she's decided to do so I just sit there, looking at her, wondering if this is actually my wife and where this is going to go.
And then she smiles. “So that guy,” she says, her mouth in a sort of mischievous grin, “has a bunch of friends over at the hot tub.”
I wait. I can't, to be honest, quite believe what is going on, and I'm half convinced I'm just dreaming. In some ways, I think I might want to be dreaming, because after all this fantasizing about my wife with other men, being this tangibly close to her doing something like that, I feel really out of control.
“Can you believe they have a hot tub here?” she says, as if that's the thing that is most unbelievable at the moment. “I mean, it's so warm.”
I clear my throat.
I see now, from Jackie's smile, that she's really enjoying making me uncomfortable in this particular way. She lifts her glasses up. “You know he invited me over there.”
“Uh...”
“With his friends.”
I make a sound that really isn't much of a word.
Jackie lowers her glasses and shifts her legs around in this very sinewy, sexy way. “Do you think I should go?”
Do I?
I look around. I can see the hot tub from here, though I have to say, not very well. I look down at my leg.
“Do you want to?” I ask her.
She shrugs again. “Oh... I don't know. Do you want me to?”
I am thinking about my reply when Jackie stuns me by letting her hand drift over to my lap and feeling the contours of my hardened cock through my shorts.
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “It seems like maybe you do.”
“Um, I mean... yeah. If you want to. If you... are you going to... you know... what are you going to do over there? You think?”
Jackie pauses everything but her fingers, which are playing with my cock in light strokes that are sending chills through me. Then she purses her lips sexily.
“I don't know,” she says mysteriously. “Probably just flirt a little.”
My cock pulses.
Jackie sits there for a little bit. Then she sits up and drops her legs over the side of the chair. “Do you want anything? A drink or anything?”
I am staring at her and my mind is racing. I think I say, “A beer,” though I'm not really sure as she walks off toward the bar if I've said anything at all. She takes a towel with her in one hand and her hips sway a little as she walks to the bar.
But when she gets there, if she was in fact going to get me something, she is intercepted by the same guy, who has come around the other side of the bar from the hot tub and is smiling broadly at her. They go behind the bar, where they can stand without being in the pool, and I can see only their torsos as they lean against it and start talking to each other. This time, they are standing very, very close.
Jackie drapes her arm on the bar-top, and the guy leans in after her and puts his fingers very close to her hand. I watch as he lifts them and drops them onto the top of her hand, stroking the back of it as they chat.
I know it isn't a big thing, and that I've been dreaming about far more... intimate... scenes between my wife and another man, but seeing another guy actually touch her, in a way that is not just “friendly” or professional, like a handshake, sends a knife of red-hot jealousy through my chest. I can feel my cheeks burning with something that's a mix of excitement and rage.
I'm wondering if I should get up, hobble over there on my lame foot, and put a stop to what I've set in motion, but before I can take any action, it's sort of too late. With a little shake of her head, and that shrug that is becoming all-too-familiar, Jackie is following the guy to the left, toward the hot tub.
My eyes snap to the area. There are two women and three men sitting on the side of the hot tub – which is, admittedly, a peculiar thing, given how warm it is. They're sitting on the side of the tub dangling their feet into the water. One couple is sitting particularly close – a very attractive woman with a dark tan and a neon-peach swimsuit. The guy talking to her looks considerably younger than she is, and he is sliding his finger along the strap of her bikini and talking close to her ear. I then see that a gray head of hair is in the hot tub, on the side closest to me. I bet it's her husband, watching from the other side.
I have a pang of jealousy of a different kind.
Jackie and her man have reappeared from behind the large column that was blocking my view, and Jackie stands by the edge of the tub area. All heads turn toward her, and a round of smiles and introductions ensues. But they're a different kind of introduction than “the usual;” the smiles are a bit wide and wet, the looks that are exchanged are hungry and more intimate than they should be.
Clothing Optional: An Interracial Hotwife Erotica Novel Page 5