A Summer Vacation: A Wife-Swapping Novella

by Arnica Butler

  But finally, she tugged on the strings, and they unraveled. He watched them as they disentangled and slid along her skin, undone. But the small patch of crocheted fabric moved only slightly, slipping just a little along the smooth skin of her pubic bone.

  It was at that moment that he remembered that she was showing him something, and he may have been a little ahead of what he was about to see. But maybe not. Her pretty fingers moved underneath the fabric, and he watched them, hidden from his view by only the tiniest scrap of material, touching herself, maybe even stroking her clit.

  And then she gave the fabric a flick, and it fell open.

  Steve sucked in his breath. Her skin, smooth and white, went on and on, forming into the soft lips of her labia, and then disappearing in a streak of bright pink into her gash. Utterly, completely bare.

  He blinked.

  Again he was struggling to find something to say or do. Helena, however, took the lead, and the beautiful bare pussy began to transform before his eyes: the slit of pink opened up, like a blossoming flower, as she spread her legs and held them open by the knees, her eyes large with her own excitement.

  And it wasn't just her eyes that were excited, he noted: the unfolding red-pink skin of her cunt was glistening with her arousal. She let her fingers slide into her own folds, her wedding ring glinting against her pink skin.

  He blinked again. Was this really happening?

  “What do you think?” she said, and she said it more like a sexy growl.

  The wine glass that was in Steve's hand very nearly slipped from his grasp. He caught it, but most of the wine tipped out.

  Helena seemed pleased with this reaction. She smiled, and her eyes drifted down to the bulge of his cock, pressing out almost painfully against his pants.

  He set the wine glass down hurriedly on a table, and fumbled to get himself out of his pants. As he did so, he was stunned to see Helena – Helena who normally wanted to read a book, wrapped in a muumuu, in bed until she fell asleep before 9:30 – sliding her finger into the wet folds of her pussy, and playing with the tight button in the center of her wet petals. Her eyes were between his legs, expectantly, the whole time.

  But when his cock was freed, she reached for him, and instead of closing her hand around his member as he desperately wanted her to do, she placed her hand on his head and pushed gently. The message was clear, and it was very unlike her, but Steve did not hesitate to lower himself down to where her spread legs met in all of that raw, gushing, shaved flesh.

  Her scent assaulted him halfway to her pussy: the sweet, honey-like, tangy scent of her juices. He placed his hands under her ass, and the firmness bought with her workouts greeted his palms. He pulled her to get better access to her cunt, and placed his two thumbs at either side of her, pulling apart the smooth white outer lips. For a second, though, he indulged in stroking them, and the sensation of her utterly smooth skin sent a shudder through his body.

  He could feel the precum oozing from the tip of his cock. He was so hard it ached, and he felt like he was going to explode. Still, he wanted to run his tongue over the slippery-smooth inside of her pussy. He moved in, and started from the outside, teasing her. She squirmed in his hands as he ran his tongue along her outer labia: some of her juices had smeared that far, and his tongue met with the sweet tang of her excitement. He felt her breath catch in her chest and it turned him on even more.

  He licked the inside of her next, where her flesh turned to silk and was soaked with her juices. He heard her gasp slightly, and she tried to moved her body to get her pulsing clit directly under his mouth. He held her firmly in place, enjoying the tease.

  He made a few circles around the raw center of her pussy, working her up, making her pant. Then he directed his gaze up her body as he finally closed on her hard clit, and massaged it with his tongue. His upper lips was closed around the smooth skin over her public bone. He watched her flat stomach undulated with pleasure as he moved his tongue in rhythm up and down her clit. Her body turned hard in his hands and she strained against his grip, eager to rub herself against him. Her juices were gushing into his mouth and all over his chin now, and she was becoming wild in his hands.

  Her hand dug into his hair and pulled on it, and she arched her back as much as she could as she began to go over the edge. Then she screamed loudly as her body shuddered with the first, hard wave of her orgasm. Her legs began to trembled and her feet kicked wildly. Steve felt her juices gush over him, sweet and sticky.

  He continued to lap at her pussy, until she began to twist violently beneath him, and she pulled hard on his hair to lift his head away from her. Her face was flushed, and he felt the supreme pleasure he hadn't felt for so long, of having made her come hard, like that, licking her sweet pussy until she screamed.

  He moved up along the chair, and he felt her hand on his cock. She grasped him firmly – hungrily – and this, too, was a long-buried sensation that almost sent him over the edge. He watched as her eyes moved hungrily over his cock, devouring him with her gaze so that he could almost feel her eating him, swallowing him whole...

  But that was too much to hope for, wasn't it? He kept moving over her body, ready to plunge his cock into the depths of her overflowing pussy.

  For a moment it was difficult to understand what was happening: as he rose up along her body, she moved as well. He was too far along her torso, and started to move down again, but she tugged gently on his cock and then he realized what she was doing. He braced himself on the back of the lounge and looked down to see his wife holding his cock so that she could run her tongue along the length of his shaft.

  He reached down and untied the knot at the nape of her neck and freed her breasts to complete the spectacular view he had. Her eyes were trained on his, his mouth was open and she was now making her way to his balls. And beneath this scene, her full breasts and her hardened nipples, and then below, below where he could not see but the image burned forcefully through what he could see with own two eyes: below, where her pussy was smooth and gushing with excitement.

  Helena swiped her tongue over the tender skin of his ball sac, and then she sucked him inside of her mouth. Her tongue worked against the hard center of his balls, sending jolts of erotic pain through his entire pelvis. He grasped her hair but she didn't relent for a moment. Then she made her way again along his shaft, nibbling at the contours of his cock, until she arrived at his head and sucked his glans into her mouth.

  She held his shaft with one hand and popped his head from her mouth. She looked down at the precum that was boiling out of him, and she moved his cock along her lips, smearing his cream over her mouth.

  Steve would have loved for this seduction to go one forever, but he could feel his pent-up lust frothing inside of him. He wanted to get inside of her, and feel his balls slapping against her smooth cunt.

  But Helena was unrelenting, unusually unresponsive to the nudge he was giving her to slide back up the lounge. She was typically happy to wrap up sucking on his cock, and so he was too shocked to move when she took him completely inside of her mouth, and kept going, all the way to the base of his cock.

  “Oh god,” he said. His hand made its way to her head, and he held her against him, but she didn't resist the pressure. Her tongue moved to massage his shaft, and he gasped. He was all the way in throat, deep to the point of gagging her, and she was just sucking him in further.

  She pulled back, and gasped for air when his cock flopped out of her mouth. She kept a hand on his shaft and stroked him. The sight of it all, and the thought of her bare pussy, unleashed something inside of him, and he had his mouth open to her that he was going to come when she opened her mouth again and gobbled him up.

  “I'm coming,” he gasped.

  Helena, though, did a most unusual thing, and seemed really just to smile – though it was hard to tell because her lips were wrapped around his cock and she had sucked him deep inside her again. Steve felt the burst of his cum splash against her throat, and swim ar
ound his cock in her mouth, but she just continued to suck on him. Sucking it out of him, like he was a straw to her favorite drink.

  After he had squirted the last loads of his cum into her mouth, and she had sucked his cock clean, she let her head fall back on the lounge chair, and she gave out a laugh. The kind of laugh a person gives to herself when she's been very naughty, but isn't the least bit sorry about it.

  Steve rose up on his knees, and then slipped and fell onto the floor trying to adjust himself around Helena's splayed, naked body. She giggled at him, but didn't make a move to cover herself up.

  “Jesus,” Steve said.

  Helena twirled a strand of her golden hair and said nothing.

  After a while, she stood up and slid her swimsuit cover over her naked body, so that all of her bareness peeked out through the crochet holes. She poured them both another glass of wine.

  “I think those guys are having a party this Friday. Or maybe Saturday. Anyway, you should come.”

  “So you're having a good time, so far.” Steve managed to say. An unsettled feeling was coming over him. It was an incredible sexy, scene, what had just transpired. And he wasn't going to say he hadn't enjoyed it. But it was a lot more...well, sexual...than Helena had been in a long time.

  What did he mean by that? He wondered to himself. What the fuck did he think?

  After all, she had just shaved her pussy. The kids were gone. She could finally relax. She had gone to a spa and she looked hot, and it had made her a little randy.

  Why couldn't he just accept his good luck, and move on?

  It did seem strange though, for a person to transform so much in a single day.

  “Honey?” Helena was saying, and her tone was insistent. She must have asked something several times.

  “Uh...” Steve said, and he could see from her face that he had been pretending to be paying attention. The bad feeling, a sweet-and-painful feeling, snaked through him again.

  It was fifty-fifty at times like these.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  After all, if there was one thing Steve loved to believe about himself, it was that he was an optimist.

  5

  So she went back to Reza and Zahra's the next day. It was as if she couldn't stay away.

  She knew she was hoping for something. Something more than just a poolside tan.

  There were thoughts in her mind that she didn't dare give total license to. Fantasies that her fueled her wild romp with Steve. She had the feeling of exhilaration that she used get, long ago, when she met a new guy or flirted with someone...and who cared, as long as she never acted on it? It was improving her sex life, with her husband, and she hadn't done anything.

  She had only imagined.

  Or let the faint taste of expectation rise up inside of her mouth.

  She didn't have to wait long for that something – that something she never really gave a name to – to happen.

  The next day, she was sunbathing topless. She had watched Zahra take off her top. With an unusual impulsiveness, she had decided to do it as well. She had told herself it was because she didn't want tan line, and because the sun felt so good. Deep down inside, though, she knew it was another desire. A more dangerous, sexual desire. A desire to be like Zahra in some way, or have a man see her lying there with her bare tits in the sun, covered in little sweet beads of sweat, her nipples soft and aching to be made hard inside someone's mouth.

  God.

  She had fallen asleep, with a towel on her head, thinking all of these benignly dirty thoughts.

  Something moving around the pool had disturbed her. Not enough to wake her up completely, but enough to give her the sensation that Zahra was no longer next to her, and someone else was moving around. A heavier person. A man.

  For some reason she decided to pretend to be asleep. She barely opened her eyes, and peered through her eyelashes. Zahra was indeed gone. She moved her eyes toward the pool.

  Through her eyelashes, she could see the figure of Reza moving along the opposite edge of the pool. She could see that he was pulling at his shirt, then lifting it over his head. She could make out the lines of muscle that she had all but memorized, thinking about them so much. She fought the urge to open her eyes fully, and take in his body.

  Then her heart stopped, as he hooked his thumbs under the top hem of his shorts, and pulled down to slide them off.

  She could feel her breath catch in her chest, and a tidal wave of pleasant queasiness rose over her and pressed her down into the recliner. She was grateful that it felt heavy. It was all she could do to keep her eyes from flying open. She forced herself to close her eyes fully, even though she doubted that he could see into the shadow cast by the towel, even if she had opened her eyes fully.

  The dark place between his legs was burned into her mind. She had seen it clearly, even if her eyelashes obscured her sight: the full, long shape of his cock, hanging between his legs.

  Jesus, she told herself.

  She let her eye open just enough to see him again, and when she did he was already in mid-air, leaping from the edge of the pool. Her eyes moved all over his body, but he was too much in motion for her to drink in the sight of him. He cut into the pool gracefully, with barely a splash. Now she could only see his arms, rising out of the water to swim in smooth, athletic strokes.

  She shifted in her recliner, knowing that he couldn't see her now.

  She felt an ache between her legs, and she was shocked at herself.

  She'd always been attracted to Reza: she held the personal belief that any woman who said he wasn't attractive to them had to be lying through her teeth. But she had always managed to confine it to a non-sexual, flirty place inside of her. Now she was squirming on her chair, worried that the evidence of her excitement might somehow slip out of her bikini bottoms.

  God. She was here all alone, with her top off, in the skimpiest bikini she had ever worn.

  Where the hell was Zahra, anyway?

  Get control of yourself, Helena, she thought. Reza is used to women sunbathing topless, his own wife does it all the time in front of everyone she meets. Also, his own wife is gorgeous. So keep calm.

  But why was he swimming naked?

  Maybe he does that all the time, she thought.

  She knew she should do something: stop pretending to be asleep. Jump up and cover herself up, walk calmly into the cabana and make herself a drink. She imagined herself doing it: standing up, slipping on her top, walking around the pool, giving him a wave to let him know she was awake. Calm as ice as he waved back with his cock beneath the water.

  She imagined all this, but she remained where she was. What's worse, she was actually hoping he had taken a nice long look at her. She knew her breasts looked good. That they were full and round, and her nipples were big and pink and eye-catching.

  She heard the sound of his body moving through the water, swimming laps. She forced herself to breathe slowly, like the dead, as she heard the dripping of water and the shift of a reverse splash, as he drew himself up and out of the water. Her eyes fluttered half-open and then all the way as she saw that his back was to her as he rose from the water. She delighted in his muscled back, and then...oh god. His bare ass. Tight, well-rounded.

  What was she doing?

  She closed her eyes again and steadied her breath, which had quickened.

  He moved like a cat, so she had no idea where he was or what he was doing for a few moments. Then she felt the cool of a shadow on her body, across just her legs.

  And he – for it had to be him, right? Who else was there? - just stood there. She knew he had to be a few feet away from her. Was he looking at her? The cold of his shadow felt like a searing flame across her legs.

  Was he still naked? She wondered. She both hoped that he was and that he wasn't.

  After a few moments, it was clear that he could be doing nothing else but staring at her. He was still, not dressing, not toweling himself off, not moving at all. The only thing he cou
ld be doing was standing over her, looking up and down her “sleeping” body, taking in the sights of her breasts, her stomach, the patch of bikini that covered her freshly-shaved snatch. The patch of bikini that she could feel soaking through with her juices.

  Every muscle in her body wanted to move. It was as if his stare was sliding all over her body. She could feel her nipples getting hard, and wondered what he would think of that. Could a person get hard nipples if they were asleep? Did he know she was awake? She wished she could see through her eyelids. She wanted to know if he was standing there naked, if maybe he even had his cock in his hand...

  A shiver went through her as she let her imagination run wild, imagining that he would stroke himself off, just looking at her. That at any moment she would feel the hot splash of his cum on her skin.

  A thought like this, she knew, should have disgusted her. Or outraged her. Instead, she found herself thinking of it in a loop, over and over again. She found herself hoping he was naked, hoping his cock was hard and in his hand, hoping he was looking at her hardened nipples, hoping that he knew that her swimsuit bottom was soaked through with her own lust.

  How long did this go on? She would wonder about it later. It felt like an eternity, a torturous erotic eternity. And then the cool patch of his shadow slid off her leg, and the hot tongue of the sun crept back over her.

  She waited for ten minutes before she dared to open her eyes, just a crack. She couldn't see Reza anywhere.

  Then Zahra's voice. “Oh hey, honey,” and some laughter. The laughter of flirting, the trailing away of their voices. Reza was taking her somewhere, probably, to fuck. And the idea that he was doing it after standing over her, Helena, sent a shiver up her spine. Her skin prickled with excitement and another gush of juices wet her swimsuit bottom.

  She sat up, and found herself alone. She hastily put on her swimsuit top, though why she was so motivated to do so, she wasn't sure. Then she went to the pool and lowered herself in. She wanted to cover up the fact that her swim bottoms were soaked. She glided through the warm water to the opposite side of the pool and hung onto the concrete edge.