by Vivian Ward
“Mmm, yes,” I murmur, taking a drag of my cigarette.
Grabbing my long chestnut-colored hair, I pull it back and wrap it in a ponytail in an attempt to calm myself.
“You know,” Shawn’s eyes hold my gaze. “If you like to get pretty wild, we could all hang out tomorrow night. We’ve got plenty of booze, and I think we could have a very good time.”
The way he stares at me for a few seconds too long makes me think that there’s more to it than just having a few drinks around the campfire, but Tom doesn’t seem to notice it.
Or if he does, he’s not letting on one bit.
“Sounds good to me,” he agrees with Shawn. “But I must warn you, she can hold her liquor, so I hope you’ve got enough for my little fish to drink.”
I watch in disbelief as he blows smoke rings in the air.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to get these guys to get me drunk. He also knows how turned on I get when I’m drinking and when you couple that with us out in the wilderness, that’s the perfect recipe for one horny Beth. And he’s acting cool as a cucumber the whole time.
“Tom!” I playfully smack him. “You make me sound like I’m a drunk.”
I turn my attention to our new friends and smile at the two of them, trying to keep concentrate on Hunter because he’s the least distracting of the two.
“I’m sorry. I think what my husband means is that I can hold my own for a lady. I’m not a terribly big drinker,” I nod at Hunter.
Shawn steps in front of his friend, folding his arms.
“We’ll see about that,” he winks.
Surely, Tom had to see that. Right? I turn around and look up at my husband who is blowing his smoke up at the moon.
My mouth hangs open as I realize he missed the whole thing. Trying not to make a big deal of out of it, I laugh it off.
Finishing the last drag of my cigarette, I grind the cherry out against a tree and toss the butt into our garbage bag, waiting for my husband to join me, but he’s busy making friends.
“What are you two doing tomorrow?” I hear Hunter ask my husband.
“Eh, you know. Probably a little fishing in the morning and then maybe go on a float trip early afternoon.”
“Yeah? Shawn and I were going to go fishing in the morning. Depending on what time you’re getting up, we can all go together,” Hunter suggests.
My husband seems more than pleased to have a couple of guys to fish with, especially since his friends backed out on him and eagerly jumps at the opportunity.
“Yeah, that sounds great! I was going to head out to the bank around 5 and then come back here for an early lunch around 9 or so before we take our rafts out on the water.”
“Awesome, that works man,” Shawn says.
The men all high-five each other as we wish one another good night before we make our way back into our respective tents.
“Tom! Did you see that?” I ask my husband, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open.
“See what?” he asks, adjusting his pillows as he tries to get comfortable.
“Those guys! That guy! He was flirting with me.” I look at my husband who is waiting for me to elaborate more on what I’m talking about.
“You didn’t see it, did you?” I ask.
My voice sounds small. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe it’s all in my head and Shawn really wasn’t flirting with me.
But all of those glances, those looks, the way his eyes locked with mine. Those beautiful caramel eyes.
I shake my head. There’s no way that I imagined all of it. Tom mustn’t have been paying very close attention, but sometimes he’s oblivious to the fact that men come onto me.
At least, he never seems to pay any attention. Maybe he doesn’t care?
He doesn’t have to say a word because his silence speaks volumes.
“The guy named Shawn was coming onto me really strong. Not only did he invite us to come drink with them tomorrow, but he also winked at me while he kept flirting!”
“Do you want me to go punch him?” he teases, stretching out in his spot.
“No!” I say.
“Did you like it?” he asks.
Would it be bad if the answer was: yes, a little?
“No,” I say, even though it’s sort of a lie.
“Then that’s all that matters. Good night, babe. Love you.”
It doesn’t take long for him to doze off and start snoring while I lie next to him thinking about the hot guys right next to us who are using our normal camping spot.
I’ve got to admit, they are pretty hot and they both seemed friendly. That Shawn was a bit too friendly, but I liked him.
A lot.
He is a bit on stocky side, but not overweight. His build is solid muscle, almost no fat at all and he was pretty thick.
Wonder if he’s “thick” everywhere?
Really Beth? Stop it, you bad girl. You were already naughty enough for the evening when you let them listen to Tom fuck your brains out.
The thought of letting them hearing me have sex turns me on. It embarrasses and excites me at the same time, but that’s what the whole rush is about when it comes to exhibtionism. It’s like I should be ashamed that they know what I sound like while getting screwed but I’m excited that they know this intimate detail about me.
And to think that after they all go fishing in the morning, Tom invited them to float with us and they want us to drink with them.
I can only imagine how tomorrow will go. My insides flip and churn just thinking about it.
Chapter 5
Tom
As hot as it was that Shawn and Hunter heard me fucking my wife last night, it was even hotter to watch her squirm when Shawn flirted with her.
I pretended not to notice and turned a blind eye, but none of it was lost on me. I caught every glance he stole, every scan of her body, and every smile he gave her.
I was also completely aware of her reaction to him. I’m not sure if she even realizes how much she was flirting back with him, but I watched her giggle and tip her head at everything he said while she batted her eyelashes up at him.
She can be quite the flirt herself when she wants to be, but I don’t say a word. I’m afraid that if I do, she’ll stop being a little flirt and it’s so much fun to watch her.
There’s no denying that she was floored when she thought I was oblivious to it all, but that’s what makes her even cuter and everything that much hotter.
The thing is with Beth, I know she’d never cheat on me or leave me for another guy. We’re too close for that to happen and I know that I love her with every fiber of my being. It’s clear by her actions that she feels the same way.
There’s not a day that doesn’t go by that Beth doesn’t plop herself into my lap while I play with those long, sandy locks of hers or that she doesn’t jump into my arms when I hold her tight.
That woman is my life, and she’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Sure, there are lots of pretty girls in this world—beautiful ones even—but they don’t have the charisma that my wife has or the sweetest personality that any man could ever wish for.
When I met my wife, I knew she was the one. I fell for her, and I fell hard. Hard and fast. It didn’t take long to learn that she was a hidden gem, and I’d just discovered man’s richest treasure.
She swears that we met at a little coffee shop, but we met once before that. I’ve brought it up before but she doesn’t remember, so I let her tell the story her way because I love her.
And I love seeing her eyes light up the way they do when she tells our story. Her angelic face comes to life, and those smokey eyes pull you in, lulling you with every word.
We initially met at a party that one of my friends threw. It was about four months before I saw her at the coffee shop, and I was so glad to have run into her again. Luckily for me, she was a damsel in distress and I’m all about being the hero of the story, so I saved her.
At the party, she didn’t even giv
e me a second glance, but I watched her like a hawk. She came alone and was dressed to kill. A short red dress hugged every damn curve of her body, accentuating her round bubble butt and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She definitely has that effect on men, and I see it all the time. I don’t get jealous because I know she’s mine and nothing or no one will ever change that. I’m very proud to call this woman my wife. She’s so beautiful and she doesn’t even know it.
I know that Beth carries a huge torch for me, but in my eyes, she’s a complete goddess. She has no clue how much I treasure her, and I’m so happy to let the whole world know that she’s mine.
Beth is beautiful, smart, funny, witty, and whatever else you can imagine. If it’s a good trait, she has it. And I know she’s not perfect. She gets cranky every now and then or stressed out, but that’s life. We all do it.
From across the room, I watched a few guys approach her, but she politely brushed them off as she laughed and talked within her circle of friends. There was something about the way she carried herself that captured my attention.
My plan was to go over and talk to her once her group of friends broke up and went their separate ways so that she wouldn’t reject me like the others but that’s not quite how things worked out.
While I was watching her, I saw some drunk chic bump into her, and it caused a little of her drink to spill down the front of her low-cut dress. It took every ounce of me not to offer to lick it off of her.
Instead, I approached her with paper towels and offered to go out to my car where I kept a gym bag with a spare change of clothes that she would be able to put on. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt.
Initially, she said yes, but by the time I returned inside the party and tried to find her, she’d already left so I never got to see her again. I didn’t dare ask who she was because I figured she might have a boyfriend or something, but I hoped that I’d find her again one day so when I spotted her in the coffee shop, I knew it might have been my only chance.
She was so adorable with her wet hair that curled around the edges, and the way her wet clothes clung to her is a sight that I could look at every minute of every day.
I love the swell of her hips and how round they are, and how they contrast to her waist. My wife has the perfect hourglass figure, and I thank my lucky star that she has some meat on her bones.
There’s nothing better than kissing her thick thighs while I hold onto her full-figured hips when I go down on her. There’s nothing small about my wife—except her pussy.
She’s no saint and has been with her fair share of men before our marriage, but that’s one thing—the only thing—that’s small about her. If she hadn’t told me her number of sexual partners, I would’ve assumed that she was a virgin as tight as she is.
That’s one thing I’ve fantasized about: the pleasure she could give so many other men. We’ve always been exhibitionists and have had sex in plenty of public places, but just once, I’ve always secretly wished that one of the many men who’ve seen me banging my wife would join in.
I can only imagine what another man’s face could look like as he enjoyed my wife’s body. And her face, that sweet angelic face. Those smoky eyes and pouty lips.
I’ve imagined those puffy, swollen lips of hers wrapped around my cock while another guy fucked her from behind.
So when I see other men flirting with my wife, I welcome it. I pretend not to notice and turn a blind eye because there’s some deep, fucked up part of me that wants her to experience sex with someone else and be pleasured by another man. I want to know how much she enjoys having sex with other people.
I know I should probably go to sex therapy or something because something must be wrong with me for wishing these things but I can’t. I’m too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it. I can’t even tell my wife what I want. How am I supposed to tell a stranger with some high and mighty degree what I want my wife to do?
And I know what the doctor would say. He or she would say, “Tom, you’re sick. There are some deep psychological issues that resonate from your childhood. Come see me for an hour a week for the next few months.”
I’m not paying some head shrink to take my money to tell me that my fantasies are wrong. We all have different things that interest us, that makes our clocks tick. For some people, it’s food. For others, it’s drugs. For me, it’s sex.
Beth has no clue just how much sex occupies my mind. While I’m at work, I imagine what my wife looks like as she’s bent over the bed of a hot military guy at the hospital as she takes his vitals or how she might be naked in the shower, lathering up her body with her scented body wash.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished she’d play a nurse in the bedroom with me so I could really imagine what she looks like while she’s working, but I’ve never brought it up. I’m sure she doesn’t want to bring her work into the bedroom.
I know I wouldn’t want to bring my work into the bedroom.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for her.
Not that she’s ever let on otherwise, because she’d never do that. Beth isn’t like that. She’d let me believe that I could live forever even if she knew in her heart of hearts that I had cancer and would be dead in less than a day. And she wouldn’t just let me believe it, she’d convince me.
And I’d buy her lie just like an addict buys his crack because I’d need to be with her for just one more day.
The sounds of Shawn and Hunter talking bring me back to reality and remind me that very soon, we’ll be back at the campsite and I’ll get to watch more of this dangerous game of flirting between my wife, Shawn and even Hunter.
Hunter’s not as bold as his friend, but I can tell that he’s totally into her. He’s dropped a few subtle hints and I’ve been monitoring the way he looks at her.
I think she likes Shawn—hell, I really believe she wants both of them if you want to know the truth.
“These fish aren’t biting today,” Hunter says. “Are you guys hungry for lunch yet? You want to pack up and get back so we can grab some food?”
I nod in agreement. I’m happy with my catch for the day. I’ve got three fish.
“Yeah, I can’t believe all I caught was just two fish,” Shawn says.
“That’s better than my zero fish,” Hunter says.
“If you guys want,” I say. “You can eat with us tonight. There’s a total of five fish, and there’s only four of us, so there’s more than enough to go around.”
They look at each other and shrug.
“Yeah, that sounds good, and we can still drink together just like we planned,” Shawn says.
I know exactly why he wants us to drink with them. The bad thing is, it’s partly why I want us to drink with them, too.
“Sounds good,” I say.
“Hey! Do you guys know of any good drinking games?” Hunter asks. “If not, we’ve got a few, and we can make up some new ones.”
“The only drinking game I’ve ever really played was beer pong or quarters. Other than that, I don’t think so,” I tell them as we make our way back to the campsite.
No sooner than we pull up, I see Beth wearing her red bikini. The one her ass hangs out of, and it looks so delicious. I just want to walk up to her, yank those little bottoms down and eat her booty like groceries.
I’m not the only one who notices either. Hunter and Shawn are eyeing her like a couple of starved men.
“You’re back just in time,” she says, adjusting her bikini in an attempt to cover up. “The food is almost ready.”
After we’re done eating, Beth cleans up and puts the food away while all of us men get the rafts ready for the water.
Purchasing this inflatable gadget that plugs into the cigarette lighter outlet is the best ten dollars I’ve spent in a while because it beats having to go to the gas station that’s almost ten miles from the campsite.
As I’m airing up Beth’s raft, I watch her hips sway as she appr
oaches me with a bottle of sunscreen in her hand.
“Can you rub some of this on my back? I don’t want to burn with us being out on the water today,” she says, holding the bottle out to me.
“You’ll have to wait. I’m inflating your raft right now, and then I have to do the blow-up coolers so we can take our drinks with us.”
This is one of the times when I wish I would have listened to my wife when we originally bought these things and spent the extra few dollars for the bigger cooler.
She told me that they weren’t going to be very big on the inside, but I didn’t listen. Instead, I asked her how many drinks she was planning on taking. I didn’t think about the ice in the cooler taking up room, so we ended up having to go back to buy a second cooler before our next camping trip.
“I can put some lotion on you,” Hunter says.
Beth’s face drops in surprise, and she turns to me with that, “Did you hear that?” look that she always gets—the same one I always pretend to ignore. This time I don’t ignore it.
Smiling, I nod with my cigarette loosely hanging out of my mouth and wink at her.
“Yeah, let Hunter help you out. I’m busy, babe.”
It’s so hard not to laugh because I can see it in her eyes that she wants to but she’s afraid. She’s not sure what to think of another man touching her, and I’m not sure she knows how to respond to my approval.
Chapter 6
Beth
I can’t believe what my husband just said. Part of me wants to believe this is some sort of dream but I know better. It’s almost like he wants me to be touched by someone else.
The problem is that I don’t know if I want another man touching me. I mean, he’s good looking but he’s not my husband.
So good looking, maybe too good.
He’s almost as dangerous as his friend but he’s not as direct and is more playful, and because of this I seem to let my guard down a little.
“Sure, go for it,” I say, throwing caution to the wind.
Um, what?