Kate suddenly swept up her purse, with a throaty laugh. “Guys, I think I need some fresh air,” she said.
Kyle stood up at the same time. His face was smug, because he knew what everyone else knew, and that everyone else knew: there was nothing about “fresh air” motivating this overflowing, excited woman to go outside.
Pete held his drink up. “Cheers,” he said jovially. Kyle smiled at him.
Kyle's hands were on my wife's ass. Two big, black hands. Palming my wife's ample buttocks.
The five minutes I waited felt like five minutes without a breath of air. My chest ached and I was so anxious I couldn't help but sweat and dot my forehead with a bar napkin.
“You better pack it in,” Pete said to me, after a few minutes of silence. “You look sort of rough.”
Pete was 150 sheets to the wind, so this was a pretty rough insult coming from him. I dotted my forehead. “Yeah,” I said. “I have to...I better get to bed.”
I left the bar without even saying goodbye to anyone, including Pete. Once I had decided that some sufficient amount of time (like 3 minutes) had passed. I was in a daze. I felt like everything had sharpened into focus and blurred out of control at the same time.
I made a big show of getting in the elevator. I went up a floor and then went down the stairs. I cut out through a hallway that looked like a service hallway. I let the scent of the ocean lead me to a darkened glass door. Ignoring the very obvious warning that it was a fire exit, I pushed out the door and into the night. I saw the red and white label advising that this was an emergency exit just as I went through the door, and a new terror seized me.
“Fuck!” I hissed.
But, because we were not in America, nothing happened. The door swung closed.
I shook my head.
Back to my mission.
I scanned the line of tropical plants in front of me, beyond them the tidy lines of reclining chairs and collapsed umbrellas. The gray, nighttime-blue of the Caribbean. There were quite a few people wandering around on the beach, all of whom seemed to have collaborated to drive me insane. They were all wearing white.
I stumbled forward and stood close to the bushes.
It was nearly dark, and the inky light was thickening fast. Only the hotel lights illuminated the beach area. Still, where would they have gone, if they were really going to fuck out here?
And more importantly, how was I going to watch them?
I headed toward the waterline and pretended to dip my feet in the water. I looked left and right. Figures moved in the darkness, but none looked like what I wanted: a white dress, a dark man.
I was in the middle of the hotel's beach. It was an enclave that was shared with one other hotel, not really a bay as much as a strip of beach cut off on either side by a cascade of rocks.
And I was in the fucking middle.
Arbitrarily, I turned left. I began walking fast, scanning the people on the beach. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw writhing shapes beneath white fabric moving on one of the reclining chairs set out on the beach. The couple had gone to the middle row, and they were making out fervently. It could be them. My pulse raced as I neared their shapes.
But when I got close, I saw it was just some teenagers.
I continued walking. The chairs and umbrellas ended. To the left, away from the water, there were banana boats and kayaks stacked up and leaning against wooden lean-to's. I scanned the dark shadows but saw no movement. Nothing. I was nearly at the end of the beach, where the sand ended and the beach became rocky and unnavigable.
I turned on my heel, my heart pounding and rising and falling inside of me. I felt genuinely ill. I even leaned over with my hands on my knees at one point because I was sure that the combination of sensations in my body was about to spill over as puke.
But no.
I walked the whole length of the beach. Every step made me wilder. My respiration was elevated to keep up with my racing heart. My chest was squeezing itself inward. I could hear my own breath, hear my blood pounding in my ears. With every step I took, Kyle's hands were clutching at more and more of my wife's body. More of her dress was getting peeled away. Kyle's fingers were probably dipping into her pussy by now, and I still had to find them.
I swept my eyes over the area to my right. Couples passed by, couples were sitting in the sand, but none of them were Kyle and Kate. I was jogging lightly now. How much time had gone by? Ten minutes? Fifteen? By now another man could have his cock ball-deep in my wife's cunt, making her gasp in ecstasy, and I was walking around on the beach like a blind idiot.
I reached the end of the beach, just past the other hotel.
I turned in desperation and looked up into the chairs and benches dotting the beach.
Nothing. An older couple was seated in two chairs, watching the surf by the light of a tiki torch.
I spun around again, seeking any place for two people to hide. Cabanas, tents, anything. But there really wasn't anything.
I had left the legal pad behind. Had it really said: “Meet me on the beach?”
What had it said?
Follow me. Follow me to the beach.
But what if she had intended to go somewhere else? What if they were at a pool or in a room, or a hallway, and I had missed my chance?
I headed back toward our hotel, my stomach churning.
What had she said, exactly? I was starting to doubt myself.
I marched down the beach, now not even trying to hide that I was looking for someone. I went in toward the chairs if I saw anyone sitting in them. I glowered at the people I saw. I knew I looked insane but I didn't care.
And still nothing.
Maybe she lied to me.
“Fuck!” I hissed again.
Then I looked to my right.
The kayaks. The boats.
My stomach went cold.
I hadn't really dug around up there. Of course, if someone was going to get up to something naughty on the beach, they would go up into the boats. There was just enough cover behind banana boats and propped-up kayaks to allow someone to get up to...well, whatever they wanted.
It was now quite dark. As I neared the boats, I started to have trouble seeing where I was going. I had taken off my shoes and I stepped on something sharp and had to muffle a curse.
Fuck. Not that I even knew if my wife was here. Not that there was even a reason to muffle a curse.
I strained to listen for the sounds of people. Low sounds, of seductive voices. Giggles. Panting, because by now they were almost surely well on their way. But my own ragged breathing and clumsy footsteps, along with the faint waves of the ocean, drowned out any other sounds.
I walked through the several rows of kayaks, looking for movement, and seeing nothing.
Like a madman, I went up and down the beach again. No longer trying to hide myself, or my frantic search. So much so that a couple helpfully asked me if I had lost something.
“My key!” I hissed, and kept going, looking nothing like a man looking for a key.
“Just go to the front desk,” the guy said, disbelievingly, but I was practically out of earshot.
I ran into the hotel and went to Kate's room. I banged on the door. Nothing.
I pressed my ear to the heavy door.
Nothing.
She had given me a key. But it was in my own room.
I leaped down the stairs three at a time, missed a landing, and crashed into the bottom of the stairwell. “Fuck!” I hissed. My knee felt bruised but I was otherwise lucky.
I burst into my room and dug through the assortment of brochures, papers, and plastic tags on the TV table. No key.
I searched again.
I looked on the floor. There it was. I scrambled back up the stairs. Halfway up it occurred to me that this was an awful plan.
After all, what was I going to do? Burst into the room and kick Kyle out?
I slowed as I reached the third flight of steps. My heart was kicking at the inside of my chest f
uriously. What if she wasn't even there?
Where the fuck had she gone?
I walked calmly to her room, and looked up and down the hallway like an amateur before putting my ear to the door again.
Nothing.
This was a nice hotel, with big thick doors, but still. I'd hear something, right?
I inserted the card. The click of the lock sounded like a sonic boom. My heart started pounding again as though I were running up the stairs.
I pushed the door open slightly.
Darkness. The hum of air conditioning.
Nothing.
I made a strange sound, and then entered the room. I flipped on the lights and looked around.
My heart felt like it had exploded as my eyes came to rest on the figure of a woman sitting on the bed.
“Jesus. Kathy. What the fuck?! Fuck.” I exhaled. “You scared me.”
She smiled and set down a glass she was holding, which appeared to have whiskey in it. “I know. It's kind of fun. I feel like an assassin!” She whispered the last word with an odd, out-of-place kind of glee, balling her fists up and smiling.
I looked at her strangely.
“So?” she said. She gave me an expectant look. She stood up and slinked over to me. “What did you think?”
She put her arms up on my shoulders.
“What did I...?” I gasped. “I didn't...I looked for you everywhere!” I stuttered.
Kathy dropped her arms and looked at me quizzically. “What?”
I shook my head. “Did you go through with it?”
She looked shocked. “What do you mean, 'you looked for me?'”
“Did you fuck him?” I said, losing patience.
She sat down on the bed. “Did you not get my note? Didn't you hear me say we were going out to get some fresh air?”
“But where?!” I said frantically. The realization was dawning on me that Kate's sitting down on the bed, looking shocked, was the answer to my previous question (did you fuck him?)
She had. She had fucked him, and I had missed it.
She was looking at me.
“I looked everywhere,” I repeated. “Where were you?”
She bit her thumb. “The lifeguard thingy. The platform at the...like, sort of by the boats...at the end of the beach...”
We looked at each other.
She dropped her hands in exasperation. “Oh, Paul!” she said in despair.
Her eyes even seemed to well up with tears.
She sat down on the bed and almost seemed to pout like a teenager. She put her hand to her forehead. “That's really...”
I sat down next to her.
“It's okay,” I said. “It's my fault. It's...we need to plan better next time.”
But now, now that I had a little time to let the disappointment wash over me, it wasn't so bad. I was getting overtaken by my desires again. I moved my hand up her knee, stroking the inside of it and delighting in the way it made a wave of goosebumps ripple over her flesh. I slid my hand up her thigh further.
“It's too bad I missed it,” I said. “But you can tell me about it.”
My fingers, moving further up her dress, came into contact with a dried and sticky patch on her skin.
Cum. Cum that had dripped down her leg and dried there.
I shuddered.
I pushed her back on the bed. She looked a little surprised, a little confused, but she went with it. I slid the skirt of her dress up along her hips, and I sucked in my breath when I found that she had no underwear on.
Not only that, between her legs, the normally unruly patch of hair over her pussy was...gone.
Totally shaved.
I stared for a moment.
Kathy's previous over-confident smile had faded a little. She now looked a little frightened of what I was going to do next. And you might think I'm a shit for it, but that frankly turned me on as much as anything else.
I was seized by a sudden burst of dominating energy. I grabbed her ankles and pushed them up, spreading her legs and pushing them down against her torso and the bed. I kept my eyes on her treasonous pussy, shaved and smooth. Her skin was red from friction, and the realization that it was another man's rubbing and thrusting that had turned her pale skin so very pink made my cock bounce wildly. I stared down at her.
“No underwear?” I said.
“I lost them,” she breathed.
Another ripple of excitement almost made me fall over.
And then, as I leaned slowly on her legs, pushing them open and down, a pearl-colored cream welled up from the lips of her engorged cunt, formed a large bead where her hole was, and then burst, dribbling down her taint to her pink asshole.
“You dirty little slut,” I breathed. I looked up at her. “How did he fuck you?” I said.
Kathy read my face. Then she gave me a tentative smile. “On my hands and knees.”
“Was his cock big?”
She nodded.
“How big? Tell me about it.”
I leaned back on my knees, still holding her legs open. “Tell me about how it felt it your cunt.”
You dirty little slut, I thought.
I watched another trickle of cum well up in her pussy, and drip down her taint. Her unfaithful cunt was throbbing now, just thinking about another man fucking her. And I got to watch this beautiful, filthy scene.
“I could hardly get my hand around it,” she whispered.
I held my own cock to her opening, swirling the juices that were oozing out of her mound, rubbing my shaft on her clit. She jerked when I pressed against her button.
“How did it fit?” I said. I slipped the head of my cock into her drenched folds. She certainly seemed stretched, looser. But it could have just been the lubrication that was gushing from inside of her.
“At first it was too tight,” she breathed, and she smiled as she felt my cock bounce around so wildly that it slipped out from inside of her. “But he...” she closed her eyes for a moment as I rubbed the tip of my dick over her clit and a wave of pleasure swarmed her.
“He did what?” I prompted.
“He turned me over and he...got me...excited.” I watched a faint stain of crimson crawl over her face.
“You mean he licked your pussy?”
She bit her lip and nodded. But I could see her relaxing as she felt the throbbing of my cock.
“And did you come?”
She nodded again.
“So he was good?” My voice was shaking, distant. I was too caught up imagining Kyle's big lips nibbling on my wife's clit to speak properly.
Again she nodded. By now I was sinking slowly inside of her flesh. I was thinking more about how slippery and hot her pussy was, and how some of that was the seed of another man. She was all filled up, all filled up with another man's cum, and she was so loose and slippery I wouldn't ordinarily have been able to come.
Ordinarily. My cock was nearly bursting now, and friction or no friction, the feel of her hot wet flesh and her story of slutdom were plenty to tip me over the edge.
“And then he fucked you?” I said.
“After that,” she gasped, “I was so wet his cock slid right in.”
I thrust deep inside her.
“Did he fill you up?”
She closed her eyes. “I've never had such a big cock inside of me before,” she breathed.
Her eyes fluttered open when she felt my cock throb wildly. Then she smiled.
“It was almost too big. But he got it all in. All the way until his balls were right up against my clit. Smacking it while he fucked...me...”
I rose up on my knees again, with my cock still inside of her.
“Make yourself come,” I said. “Think about Kyle fucking you and make yourself come.”
Kathy looked a little surprised. Or better stated, Kate looked a little surprised. I say Kate because she was certainly game for it, even if she hesitated a little. She brought her fingers to her lips and bit them, teasing me with a smile. And then she slid her h
and down her chest, over the bunched fabric of her white dress, and into the bursting red flesh of her cunt.
Her pussy clenched around my cock when she touched her clit. I stared at her finger moving with practiced ease over her nub, at her closed eyes as she seemingly did exactly what I asked: pictured Kyle. Pulses of raw energy squeezed me rhythmically, faster and faster, until her back arched and she pushed up against me, driving my cock deep inside of her, and I felt her already drenched cunt well up with even more hot liquid.
I had only to thrust a few times to set my own orgasm off like fireworks. It rocked through me, almost dizzying, and I pummeled my seed into her already overflowing, dirty cunt.
*
After we had sex, Kathy slept deeply. She didn't toss and turn, like I did. I fell asleep with the exhaustion of mind-blowing sex, but at three in the morning, I was jolted awake. The bad thoughts and paranoia began to creep in on me, and they fed off the burst of energy my body gave my mind as I processed all the drinks I'd had.
Kate, on the other hand, was face down on the bed, her head turned away from me, her hair spread out over the pillow – asleep with a relaxed expression on her face. Undisturbed.
I had sat up. At three in the morning everything seems more sinister, and this was no exception.
Until seven in the morning, I was sweating and turning from side to side, thinking about my wife and the fact that she had taken a lover the night before. What if she continued her affair with him? What if there was more to it than just sex? What if she had developed feelings for him? What if she preferred the way he fucked her to me?
And all the while, Kathy slept.
When she woke up, she rolled over and snuggled up against my chest. As she did so, the feelings I was having concentrated and plunged right through my stomach and groin. I felt her eyelashes moving on my chest. She was blinking, staring at the wall to the left of me, thinking. But she said nothing.
I then began to soften inside.
Of course. She just didn't know what to say. She was unsure how to start the conversation.
“You okay?” I said. I pushed a strand of her hair away from her face.
She brought the tip of her thumb to her mouth. “I guess so,” she said. “I just...I can't believe we did that.”
A Conventional Hotwife Page 10