Misc. Erotica A Hotwife Adventure in the Indian Ocean

[samcuck2]

6: THE REAL THING Part 1
The next morning, Shweta was up bright and early, taking a shower. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my eyes, taking a moment to absorb the events of the night before while I listened to the water in the bathroom.
I was about to get up and get in there with her, and already I was anticipating the feel of her body beneath my hands, but the water gave a final loud splash and I was too late.
Shweta opened the door a moment later. “Good morning,” she said.
She kissed me and sat on my lap. “I need to go into town… isn’t there a little town here? With shops?”
“Shopping?” I said, and there was no way to hide the slight annoyance in my voice. I kissed her quickly, though, and turned it into a joke. “Anything for my sweet princess,” I said.
Shweta rolled her eyes. “The reason,” she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward to chew on my earlobe, sending a chill through me, ‘is because I need a new swimsuit.” She leaned back and smiled at me. “You stretched that one out. And I thought I would get a new dress. Something… I don’t know, a little sexier than my sundress.”
She grinned when she felt my cock throb under her thigh.
Then she hopped off and moved around the bed to the wardrobe where her clothes were hung neatly. “Hurry, get ready,” she said. “I think it’s a haul to get in there.”
We were boored, also, so we had to take a raft to get in to the island. I hopped out of bed.
“Your wish is my command!”
The Island of Fushifaru was the typical Maldivian Island: a cluster of  resorts with storefronts built into them to sell clothing, handbags, and jewelry to all the wealthy women who preferred to spend the day in town than bonefishing on choppy seas with their husbands.
Sahil and Junaid, as a matter of fact, were planning to spend the entire day fly-fishing from the bow of the boat. This was the one time in my life that shopping seemed infinitely better than a day on the water.
I enjoyed walking around with Shweta in the salty Maldivian air, the warm sun on our backs and the excitement between us tingling in our fingertips as we held hands. It had been a long time – such a long time – since that kind of spark had existed between us, since we had held hands and felt really connected. Shweta was light, carefree, excited: she had some of the same energy I remembered in her from long ago. She was wearing a white top, it was a backless net top, and she was wearing a green trouser at the bottom. That trouser was complementing her ass perfectly. Every other person was admiring her.





We were striking out at the cluster of shops, finding only tawdry club dresses or too-innocent sundresses. We took a time out to have a fish dinner at a small hotel with a lovely patio leading down to a pretty beach. Shweta kicked off her shoes and played with my feet under the table.
“There’s only one shop left,” she complained. “I really wanted to find something.”
She was smiling at me.
I wanted to tell Shweta that she was beautiful and dangerously seductive no matter what she wore, but I couldn’t quite find the words. I was so excited about the prospects ahead of us that evening, so enamored of her flirtatious, animated personality and the way it was lighting up her face, that I just smiled.
After our lazy lunch, we tried the last shop.
I found the black dress tucked away among some red lingerie.. I had actually been imagining Shweta in something red, and thinking more about lingerie, so at first I pulled it out to get it out of the way.
The dress had been a little rolled up, and it unfurled when I took it out. The fabric was a strange semi transparent material that looked transparent with light coming through one side, and then opaque if I held it the other way.
I was playing with the material like this when Shweta saw me. “That’s scandalous,” she said.
But she came over and took the hanger from me and held the dress up.
She replaced it on the rack with a strange smile. “I couldn’t wear that.”
Now that I could see the dress in full, as it hung on the rack, it looked very sexy. The neck hung low, and slits came up on either side of it.
I took it off the rack again. “You know how you were asking me,” I said, holding the dress up against Shweta’s sundress, “how to get the conversation going with Sahil?”
Shweta looked down at the dress and made a noise through her nose. “Sure,” she said, pushing it away, “but this is… it wouldn’t look good on me anyway. That’s a dress for models and… I don’t know.”
“This dress is actually very flattering to many women,” said a sales clerk, appearing out of thin air. She was an attractive, almost Asian-looking woman with black hair to the middle of her waist. “You should try it, it’s even your size. Everyone who tries it is always very pleased with it.”
Shweta let her mouth hang open. “Oh, I know it won’t look good,” she said, shaking her head.
The woman smiled and winked at her. “Everyone who bought this dress said the same thing to me. It is like a magical dress. You should give it a try. If I’m wrong you can have twenty-percent off anything else in the store.”
Shweta laughed.
I pushed the dress at her. “Oh, just try it,” I said. “I like twenty percent off.”
The woman smiled, but like someone who knew she had already won the game. The price tag flipped over and I saw that if her gamble paid off, we’d be dropping quite the load of cash here on something that could likely be folded up and tucked into a wallet, but no matter.
Shweta shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. Just to prove you wrong.”
She trounced away to the changing room.
“Oh my God,” Shweta said from behind the curtain. She sounded truly distressed. The curtain hooks screeched across the bar as Shweta threw them open. “It is a magic dress,” she said.
My jaw dropped.




google flip a coin


Inside the transparent and not-transparent fabric, which shimmered enough to stop all the light from going through it, Shweta’s figure was like a silhouette. It was both tight against her skin and a little loose, and at the bottom, it swung easily and seductively around her legs. The two slits came to the middle of her ass.
If the material had not been very heavy with the weight of the real little chunks of metal sewn into it, the dress might have come across as trashy. Instead, it was incredibly sexy, and Shweta looked perfect in it.
“It’s really expensive,” she said, holding the tag in her fingers. Dress price was 150 dollars. “But it.. I think it looks really good.”
“You look incredibly sexy,” I said.
The sexiest I had ever seen her.
“We also have same dress in red colour,” said the woman, who appeared from nowhere again, agreed. She folded her arms across her chest. “If u buy both I can  give you ten percent discount,” she said.
“We’ll take it,” I agreed.
She winked and turned toward the cash register. I took the opportunity to slide my hands up and under the fabric of the dress. I was searching for her underwear, to slide my finger over the silky fabric before she disappeared into the changing room.
I raised my eyebrows when my fingers kept going and I found nothing but the smooth curves of her pussy lips, a tiny droplet of wetness on the front of them, that smeared as my thumb went over it.
Shweta shrugged, and wriggled free of my hands. “My underwear are white,” she said. “It looked bad.” She shut the curtain. “Besides,” she said. “That’s how I plan to wear it.”
My gut started to simmer, sending a wave of pleasure through my limbs and my other… extremities. “WOW,” I said under my breath.
We shopped around for a little longer, but in the end, we decided there was no real need for anything to highlight the dress. Shweta found an ice-blue swimsuit, and she tried it on for me. It was delightful, and maybe it would have caused an uproar inside of me if I had seen it before the dress, but I couldn’t get the sight of her in the black dress out of my mind.
“We should probably get back,” I said, around four.
Shweta agreed, and we strolled back to where we had left the raft at the marina. Shweta relaxed while I got the boat out and onto the sea. She looked very pretty in the afternoon light, her faint tan against her back, which was nothing to sneeze at. I smiled at her.
This was the moment, the one moment, where my heart took a sudden plunge, and not in a good way. Did I really want my sweet wife, the woman who was smiling back at me in her cream-colored sundress, defiled by some stranger? A big, strong stranger, who would probably fill her pussy up with so much cock she would never be satisfied by me again? This was a fantasy for me, but would it turn sour if we actually did it?

[samcuck2]

Who knows what would have happened, if, at that exact moment, Shweta hadn’t leaned on her knees to shout at me over the motor. “Before we get there, I think we should have a plan!”
I slowed the motor. “Like what?” I said.
Shweta shrugged. “Like...” she looked out over the water and pushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “Like, I don’t know… how are we going to bring it up with him? I don’t...” she turned to me and laughed. “I don’t know what to say.”
And then the red dress flashed through my mind.
Red, seductive, nearly transparent, barely clinging to her body.
“Just put on that red dress,” I said, my mind already miles away, imagining Sahil’s fat meat filling her up while she gasped, holding her legs open and staring at the disappearing inches of his cock.
Shweta gave me a look. “Trust me,” I said.
“But what if he.. turns us down or something?”
I shook my head. “Oh, Shweta.” I revved the motor up and we began to speed along again. “You have no idea how men think,” I said.
Shweta rolled her eyes.
I smiled and steered the raft.
Completely unconcerned about getting turned down.
Especially if Shweta wore that dress.
It turned out that our plan came together even more easily than we expected.
“Hey, hey,” Sahil called from the bow of the ship, where he was sitting on a lawn chair that looked straight out of a 1980’s garage sale. “I thought you would never be back! I was starting to worry.”
We boarded the ship – Sahil following us around the length of the boat, reaching down to help Shweta up the steps.
When she reached the top he smiled at her, and they were very close to each other. “I see you did some shopping,” he said.
Shweta smiled, and the moment simmered for a moment and then it was gone, Sahil reached down from the boat. “Hand me some of those bags,” he said.
“Where’s Junaid?” Shweta said, looking around.
“Oh, Junaid, he went to town, he likes the bar scene in Fushifaru,” Sahil said. “I’ve been here by my lonesome all this afternoon.”
I couldn’t believe our luck. I had been wondering how to get Sahil separated from Junaid while we enacted our plan – and while I didn’t have any problem with the big, black mute man watching (or even participating) – it definitely seemed like it would be easier for Shweta like this.
Sahil lifted the bags nimbly over the lifeline and followed Shweta back to the cockpit. “So, what did you buy?” he said. “New suit? Maybe one of those dresses they make from hemp? Very famous in here.”
I was up the ladder by then, and I could hear my wife clearly as she turned to him and put a hand on her hip, diving right in. “Do you want to see it?” she said.
And, not waiting for an answer – because even Sahil was caught a little off-guard – she popped through the hatchway. “I’ll be right back.”
Sahil looked at me, and I smiled.
I could see he was getting the picture, but he still wasn’t 100% certain.
“Hey,” Shweta called. “Can you have some drinks with us, Sahil, or are you on duty?”
Sahil raised his eyebrows. “I can have a few… we’re moored.” He looked at me.
“Get something going, honey,” Shweta called.
So dutifully, I popped into the cabin, to search for the proper cocktail to have while my wife seduced the ship’s captain.
“What do you think?” Shweta said, stepping through the hatchway and spreading her arms out to show off her dress.
I sipped my drink and watched Sahil’s face.

[samcuck2]

His jaw went slacker the longer he looked at her. I could tell he knew he shouldn’t be staring so openly, sliding his gaze all over the exposed curves of Shweta’s breasts, the smooth line of her leg where the slit revealed all.
No panties, I noticed.
I was sure that Sahil did, too.
He recovered nicely, though, and took a sip of his own drink. “That’s… an amazing dress.”
Shweta smiled for him, and then she very daringly stepped forward and placed her hand on Sahil’s chest. “Thank you,” she said, in a voice that would best be described as cloying.
She walked nimbly out and up the steps to the deck. “Let’s go sit up here, shall we?”
When I sat down next to her she whispered:
“I’ll make the first move, I take it?”
I nodded, staring at my wife with a dumbfounded expression on my face.
We spent a few hours on the deck, with Shweta stretching herself out and moving her legs this way and that as we talked. A good rapport was building, and I was starting to wonder when Shweta would really bait him. I loved that she left it for so long, leaving me to wonder if she would do it at all. I was barely present for the conversation, my mind far away on other things, agonized with anticipation.
The excitement that was building up inside of me required a lot of drinks to tamp down.
Finally, Shweta climbed on her knees and leaned over the back of the couch, letting her dress ride up to just where her bare gash could tantalize Sahil (under the pretense of retrieving her sunglasses, which were still on her head).
Sahil stared at the sweet spot between my wife’s legs, and he seemed to turn on, like a program in a robot. I watched his face transform as he looked at the sliver of my wife’s pussy hanging from her skirt.
Shweta was pretty well-imbibed, but she seemed to have struck precisely the right level of breaking with her inhibitions without being sloppy drunk. Enough to make her eyes look alive and not glassy. Enough to get her to say:
“So, Sahil,” without slurring. She leaned on one of the tube-like pillows and gave me a brief, flirtatious look of complicity. “You must... run into a lot of interesting situations, doing your job.”
There was no mistaking the sexual overtones of Shweta’s voice. She moved her fingers over the length of the pillow, which was now making us all think of Sahil’s cock.
I saw Sahil’s body stiffen a little. But he played it pretty cool: he brought his drink to his lips and made a conciliatory face. “I may,” he agreed. He said this to no one in particular, and then he took a sip of his drink and set it down.
“What kind of situation do I find myself in here?” he murmured finally.
He looked over at Shweta then, and his face became very serious, very hungry. It was a smoldering look, meant partially to seduce. I could see that it made Shweta melt from the inside, and her composed exterior seemed ready to cave.
Her lips parted and she seemed unable to take the next step by speaking.
I set my glass down on the table. “It’s the kind of situation,” I said, and I was surprised by my own confidence as I said it. My voice sounded good, firm and commanding. “That you probably found yourself in with Wasim and Neha, once or twice.”
Sahil pressed his full lips together and released them with a smack, he ran his tongue over his lips. “I see,” he said. Then he looked at me. “I think it’s best if I clarify what this is. Just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
I looked at Shweta, and so did Sahil.
My wife surprised me completely by rolling up from the couch and onto her heels. The loose red dress was surprisingly transparent against the lights on the masts, and we could both see her figure through the material. The cow neck of the dress barely clung to her breasts, the shape of them nearly tumbling from the material.
Both of us looked at her in awe – she looked really, incredibly hot at that moment.
And then, she reached down and grabbed the hem of the dress, pulled, and slipped the whole thing over her head.
It took my breath away. Not just because she was, in the space of a second, kneeling on the couch absolutely naked, but because it was the sort of bold move I had never even dreamed of my wife making.
For a moment my heart pounded in my chest and it was the only thing I could feel. The sheer excitement of it.
This was my wife. And she was seducing another man.
A man from different religion, it was more exciting because it was a taboo in Indian society
Shweta rested on her heels, looking Sahil right in the eye. She had no panties on, no bra – her whole, lightly tanned curvy body was exposed to him, her nipples hard and glowing a pretty pink, her pussy smooth and bare, nothing more than a tiny pink slit for Sahil Khan to slip his big cock into.
He licked his lips again and looked over at me with raised eyebrows.
You really want me to fuck your wife? his face said.
It was fairly surreal.
I moved my head forward to assent, and I knew it looked smooth and controlled as I did it. Inside, I was boiling, and my mouth had gone utterly dry.
Sahil pushed himself off the couch and stood up to his full height.
He pulled his shirt off by reaching behind him and grabbing the back of it to pull it over. His chiseled torso shone in the light of the masts. The glow catching on the sharp curves of his muscles.
He stepped forward to Shweta and pushed her hair over her shoulder, sending a wave of goosebumps over her skin. “You ever been with a Arabian man, little girl? We have a power like Arabian horse” he said.
He had one hand on his belt buckle, and he was slowly sliding it through the metal clasp. Shweta’s eyes dropped to watch his fingers work the leather, and she shook her head.
For a moment I thought she was feeling the need to back out, and my heart dropped with disappointment.
But then she looked up at him and gave him a smile.
He unzipped his shorts and pulled out his cock.
It was only semi-hard, and it unfolded from inside his underwear like a elephant trunk. He was circumcised, and the organ forehead was looking like a big mushroom.
He held it in one hand and lifted it, to point it at my wife’s mouth. I saw it twitch and grow fatter, even as he waited for Shweta to take the hint.
Shweta stared at his dick, and then she looked over at me. I didn’t move except to nod slightly, as I had for Sahil.
And then, she turned back to him. She lifted her eyes, almost a little afraid, and he reached forward and pushed her hair from her face as he moved closer to her. He guided his cock to her lips, and rubbed it gently over them. “It’s all right, little girl,” he growled. “It won’t bite you. Just give it a taste.”
It made my limbs go a little cold, hearing Sahil go from somewhat reticent to bossing my wife like that, but it also made my cock hard as stone. I sucked in my breath and waited to see what Shweta would do.
She opened her mouth, and her tongue emerged to lick the crown of Sahil’s cock. The big organ throbbed to life, it was a bulbous, thick knob at the end of his evergrowing shaft, which was getting so hard that veins were protruding through the skin, which had been stretched membrane-thin by his growing column.
Sahil reached forward and put a hand in Shweta’s hair.
She opened her mouth obediently for him, her hands on her thighs, as he pulled her to him and dipped a few inches of his cock into her mouth.
It was thick enough that her cheeks puffed out with the effort of taking even the first few inches of him in.
He guided her head himself, her hair in his fingers, making her bob on the very end of his cock. The sticky sound of my wife’s mouth sucking on the end of another man’s dick crackled in my ears, and I had to unbutton my shorts and loosen the zipper of my pants to get the sharp teeth from clawing into me.
Shweta was sucking on the end of his dick for a while, and then she looked over at me, and I almost lost it. Right after she met my eyes, Sahil pushed on the back of her head and pulled her face further toward him, sinking a few more inches of his cock into her mouth.
Now Shweta was having trouble breathing and sucking. Her nostrils flared with the effort and her eyes watered a bit.
Sahil released her head and she backed off his cock, releasing him with a wet smack. His dick was so hard now that it just remained in the air, pointed at her face.
Shweta was breathing pretty quickly. She looked up at Sahil and he pushed a strand of her hair from her face. “What’s the matter?” he cooed. “Too big for you?”
He brought the tip of his cock to her mouth, and rubbed it over her lips.
My own cock was practically exploding now. I sucked in my breath to retain my composure, and even managed to reach forward and take my drink from the table and bring it to my lips.
Shweta had nodded in response to Sahil’s question, and she was opening her mouth with a renewed determination on her face. Sahil lifted his heavy cock and slapped it lightly on her lips a few times. “That’s it, you can do it. Just open up.”
Shweta looked down, and started to take his cock into her mouth again. Her cheeks filled out, her nostrils flared, and she managed to get more than three-quarters of the way down his shaft. I saw her stomach roll with a spasm of gagging, and Sahil held her head so she couldn’t pull off immediately. “That’s it,” he coaxed her.
He let go of her and she gasped for air when his cock fell out of her mouth. Spit covered her lips with a shiny gloss, and a string of saliva linked her lips and his dick for a moment, caught in the lights of the ship, before it fell in a glob on the sofa.
Sahil started to move to re-position himself, but Shweta held out a hand to his pelvis and grabbed his cock. She began to pump it with a forceful grip. “No,” she said. “I want to get it all in.”
My eyes got so wide I thought they might fall out on the couch.
Shweta took a deep breath and brought his cock closer to her mouth. Then she plunged over his dick and let more and more of it into her throat. She gagged, but she kept going, and made it very nearly to the base of his cock.
Then she began to suck on him. Her breathing was strained, puffing out her nostrils as she sucked him hard, never releasing his dick from her mouth. I stared at my wife bobbing up and down on Sahil’s cock, all the big meat filling her whole throat.
She looked over at me again, and I had to close my eyes and grip the couch to keep from bursting all over the two of them right then and there.
I struggled not to touch my cock. I wanted to see this through to completion.
Sahil was the one who finally put an end to her cock sucking. “You have to slow down, honey,” he growled.
He pushed her back and onto the couch, so she was lying down. He nudged her legs open.
Her cunt was swollen with excitement, her clit bursting from the petals of her pussy. She was so wet it glistened and there were smears of her excitement on her inner thighs.
Sahil looked back at me and gave me a smile. Then he extended his hand and placed his thick fingers on my wife’s pussy, slipping them through her gash like he was dipping into hot butter.
He brought his finger to his mouth and licked her juices off.
“Mmm,” he growled.
I could smell her from there – sweet, honeyed, wildly aroused. My mouth watered with desire to taste her, and feel her slippery petals under my mouth.
But Sahil was going to go there first.
He pushed her legs open and up, so that her pussy was open to him, and then he knelt over her and his bright tongue began to explore my wife’s cunt.
I stared at the way his tongue slid along the folds of her pussy, up and over her freshly-waxed lips, teasing the ridge of her clit and making her mouth hang open.
He sucked her clit into his mouth, pressing his big lips against it.
I flicked my eyes up to Shweta’s face. Her chin was pressed to her chest, her neck contorted so that she could get a good view of Sahil as he ate her out.
Then he moved in for real, his big hands holding her thighs. He sealed his mouth over her whole pussy, and I could tell by the movements of his jaw that his tongue was hard at work, lapping at her clit.
Shweta’s stomach began to roll in excited waves as her breathing went frantic. “Oh, oh, oh, oh!” she began to squeal, but there was nothing disingenuous about it – she was really losing control. I could see that by the way sweat was beading on her forehead and her abdomen was wobbling in crazed waves of flexed muscle because she was so overwhelmed.
She was looking at Sahil, who had lifted his eyes to watch her face. But just as she rose over the crest of her orgasm, she lifted her eyes and looked at me.
The look was almost helpless, a look like she had been caught in the act of something, or taken something way, way, too far. She looked at me as though she could not believe what she had done.
Then she threw her head back and squinted her eyes closed, and her whole body went rigid and then limp, in cycles, as her orgasm shuddered through her. She was making a sound between a scream and a sob.
Sahil kept going, and now his lips were making wet smacking noises as he lapped at her overflowing cunt. His big cock was dangling between his legs, rubbing against my wife’s left leg, reminding her it was there and still needed servicing.
My own balls felt like they were being squeezed in a vice, but I could see there was still more to come.
I took another sip of my drink, trying to steady myself as I watched with my blood pounding in my ears.
Sahil reached for Shweta’s head, and brought her up to his face. He started to kiss her, and then he commanded her in a low voice to taste herself.
Shweta ran her tongue all over his mouth, and his lips. Her face was flushed and she still looked kind of shocked when she glanced over at me – her tongue and Sahil's entwined dirtily in a game of twister.
I tried to indicate with my expression that everything was okay, and I think she got the message, but it didn’t really matter if she did or not: Sahil was consuming her now with his lips, digging into her mouth, getting her to taste her own cunt on his lips. He held her firmly by the neck and made her still as he explored her mouth thoroughly.
He tilted her backwards, and Shweta was now a little like a limp rag doll, overcome by her powerful orgasm. His tongue moved from her neck to her breasts, made a swirl around her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth.
Shweta’s eyes flew open and she started to gasp again.
He lifted her up and positioned himself underneath her, guiding her dripping pussy to his cock. He shifted, and I didn’t have the best view anymore, just his muscled back and my wife’s legs wrapping around him.
“Oh, oh, my God,” Shweta said hoarsely, and I knew that he was slipping his huge slab of meat inside of her.
He held her with one hand behind her back while his other hand explored the contours of her body. She was sweating now, and her body shone in the light. She looked over Sahil’s shoulder at me, her eyes wide with disbelief as the huge cock filled her completely and Sahil began to bounce her on top of him.
I stood up, and moved around them to have a better view. There was an empty chair across from the couch, and I eased myself into it.
From that angle, I could see Shweta’s body bouncing over his dick, and the slick, shiny length of his shaft as it pistoned in and out of her. Shweta began to get wilder as it went on, and I saw her legs flex as she began to take over the act of fucking.
She leaned over him and got more of her weight on top of him. She started to really grind on top of him, and he released the hand holding her up and used it to explored the crack of her ass and her sweaty body, rubbing her butt and slipping his fingers down to her asshole, teasing her.
“Oh, I’m going to come!” Shweta said, and she began to fuck him harder, bouncing on top of him with a wild hunger.
Sahil growled and thrust himself deep inside of her. “That’s it. That’s it, baby, ride that cock.”
He watched her, as I did, as she went wild and really humped him, until she threw her head back and screamed as she came again.
Her body went rigid and then limp, and she leaned forward and collapsed on Sahil’s chest.
He pushed her back onto the couch, without pulling his cock out from inside of her. Her legs were still wrapped around his torso, and he lifted up a little until he was on his knees again. Then he grabbed my wife by the thighs and hammered himself into her.
Shweta let her arms fall above her head, and her body slid along the couch as he fucked her like a rag doll. She was evidently so overwhelmed by her last orgasm that she could only lie there and moan until he at last looked up at the canopy and groaned.
He slammed into her hard, with three wet splats, as his cum burst inside of my wife.
At last they were still after one hour of continuos fucking, Sahil was panting very lightly from the exertion, and his cock was still inside of Shweta.
He looked over at me, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what he wanted. He shrugged, and that’s when I realized he was inviting me to get in on fucking my wife with him.
He slid his cock out of Shweta, and it landed with a wet slap against his thigh.
“Well,” he said. “Unless y’all need me for something else this evening...” he looked at Shweta and then at me. “I have some things to attend to in the control room.”
He slid his hand over Shweta’s body, and then he stood up, pulling his pants up with him. He snatched his shirt and gave me a nod, carrying it away as he whistled and stepped off in the direction of the navigation area.
Shweta rolled over, almost in a fetal position, and looked at me. Her face still had the slightly stunned look that she had gotten when Sahil made her come the first time. Her cheeks were flushed, and she shivered as a breeze came in off the water. Her whole body was wet with sweat.
“I can’t believe I… we…” she said.
I stood up and wriggled out of my loose pants. My cock was hard and I wanted to fuck my load into my filthy wife. “I’m so proud of you,” I said. “That was… amazing.”
Shweta pushed herself up and started to come toward me, but I worked my way to kneeling on the couch and pushed her back to lying down.
I nudged her legs open and touched her cunt with my fingers. She was so wet that her thighs and her ass were shiny with her juices and Sahil’s cum, and his creamy load was oozing slowly from inside of her. I caught the musky undertone of his cum under the scent of her pussy.
My cock throbbed.
I played with her swollen pussy, her engorged clit. She trembled each time I passed my fingers over her clit, but I kept going until I got her worked up again.
I guided my cock to her clit and rubbed my head over the face of it. Shweta bit her lip, and writhed underneath me. I slid my fingers inside of her.
I could feel all the cum, the slight stretching of her cunt. “Is your pussy sore?” I asked.
Shweta dropped her eyes. “A little,” she said.
I moved my cock to her opening and slid into her slowly. She moaned as I did, and I lowered my mouth to take her lips in mine. The same mouth that had sucked on Sahil’s cock, the same mouth he had probed so deeply and smeared her own juices all over.
As I got closer to her, I saw that her cheeks were wet with sweat and water that had escaped her eyes, probably when she was sucking his cock.
Her mascara was slightly smeared under her eyes, and a smudge of lipstick – light, pink gloss I hadn't even known she was wearing, clung to her upper lip, smeared a little. The effect was so filthy and trashy that it almost sent me over the edge.
I fucked her slowly, trying to distract myself so that I could get her to come one last time for me. She pushed up against me and she was getting warmed up, her body straining against mine.
But the image of her looking at me with her mouth full of Sahil’s cock flashed through my mind and I came hard inside of her without much warning.
“Fuck!” I practically spat, and I felt my face get red and my arteries nearly burst from my neck. It was the most consuming orgasm I had ever had.
Shweta grabbed me by the back of the neck and ground her hips against my pelvis until at last her mouth opened in a little puff and she gasped. I felt her pussy squeezing my cock, all of the hot liquid, the mixed cum, gushing around my dick.
I collapsed on top of her.
“Oh God,” I said.
We lay like that for a little while. I pressed my face into Shweta’s neck, and she stirred delectably. Then she shivered. “It’s too cool,” she said.
She sat up and slipped the dress over her body. It slid over her, the thin material caressing her curves, sticking in places where her skin was still damp.
Sahil wasn’t anywhere to be found, and we didn’t see him below decks as we passed to the cabin. I was fairly grateful for that – I wasn’t sure what to do with the awkwardness of having him lingering when I really wanted to get Shweta to myself for a while, to find out if she was okay, to feel her body and have it to myself.
When I closed the door I took her in both hands and kissed her. As soon as I felt her lips beneath mine, warm and soft and treacherous and responding to me, I was overcome by passion. I kissed her for a long time, in a way that we hadn’t kissed for years.
We moved to the bed, and I lay down with her. I moved my fingers over her body, tugging the dress up and over her head to free her and pull her close to me. I was overcome by unexpected emotions, feelings of tenderness as well as arousal.
We kissed for a long time, and I gently caressed her body long after I was aroused enough to enter her. When I finally did, we engaged in the most intimate lovemaking we had for a long time. It was slow, and raw, and I felt it more in my chest, inside my heart, than anywhere.
When I finally pulled away from her, though, Shweta looked at me with a serious face.
“What is it?” I said. I drew my finger from her ear to her cheek, eliciting a little smile. But the worried expression remained beneath the surface of her face.
“Come on,” I coaxed. “Are you worried about what we did?”
Shweta gave a little shrug. “I’m the one who did it,” she said.
I propped myself up on my elbow. “Are you serious?”
Her face revealed that she was.
I moved her head with my finger on her chin. “Hey, Shweta, listen. I asked you to do it. I wanted you to. We’re in it together.”
Shweta looked at me, and her eyes seemed a little wet, like she might cry.
“What’s still troubling you?” I said. I was sort of enjoying this little game of guilt. In fact, it was flattering to me that she hadn’t just thrown herself into it and never looked back.
But it troubled me if the guilt cut too deep. Or worse yet…
“Didn’t you like it?” I asked. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t enjoy.”
Shweta bit into her lip even harder and averted her eyes. “It’s not… um, so much that...”
This is the point where I felt a little fall, inside of myself. Not a terrible one; it was almost fun.
But still a drop, a jump off a cliff.
I had a feeling about what she was going to say even before she said it.
“I think I maybe…”
There was a long pause.
“Maybe I liked it a little… too much.” She brought her eyes back to meet mine, questioning how I would react.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about what she said.
I hadn’t given it too much thought, to be honest. My thoughts had all been centered on just coaxing her into actually doing it. I hadn’t really anticipated how I would react, and when I imagined how she would react it was only a vague idea of her reaction, an outline, something surreal and yet something I felt sure I could control.
“What do you mean, ‘too much?’”
I said. Shweta closed her eyes. “I don’t know… I felt… maybe ‘too much’ is the wrong phrase.”
Oh, but it’s the one you used, I thought.
“What did you mean, then?”
Shweta opened her eyes. “I think I just felt… out of control.”
I let this sink in.
“Out of control” matched the way Shweta had behaved. “Out of control” was a better phrase.
I leaned over and kissed her.
“It’s supposed to be a little ‘out of control,’” I said, my voice a fountain of assurance. “That’s kind of the point, I think.”
Shweta seemed reassured by this. She turned on her side and we spooned.
In very little time, it seemed to me that she was falling asleep: her breath became slower and deeper, and she seemed completely at ease, at least enough to fall asleep.
I, on the other hand, was still turning that phrase over and over in my mind, the phrase of her original choice: “Maybe I liked it a little too much….”
Her first choice of words, whether she felt they were what she meant to say or not, kept me awake well into the morning.

[Givemeextra]

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Perfect red dress 

[samcuck2]

7: THE FANTASY ISLAND
 I finally did fall asleep, and I woke up when Shweta stirred and pushed herself over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She pushed her hair out of her face. It was slightly damp from the heat and humidity, tangled and mussed by our activities the night before.
My cock came to life straightaway as soon as all of those activities replayed in my mind, a montage of very sexy, very filthy things. The scent radiating from Shweta’s body made me throb even more, as I remembered that she was still dripping with Sahil Gillette's cum, and mine, and her own.
Her voice echoed huskily in my mind: I liked it a little too much.
We made love again, slowly like the pace of the lazy morning. Nothing crazy or wild, though it did take a lot for me to hold back from coming almost as soon as I felt her hot pussy around my cock.
She rolled back onto her stomach afterward, and looked forward at the headboard as though she were reading tea leaves.
“I’m sort of embarrassed to go up there,” she said, suddenly. Then she looked at me, and laughed nervously. “Because of Sahil?” I said, though obviously that was the only answer. Shweta extended her arm and lay her head on it. “Do you think he told Junaid?”: she whispered. I paused a little too long. I felt pretty sure that Junaid knew the score, and if not, Sahil had almost certainly told him. How could he not? I shrugged.
Shweta rolled onto her back. “Oh, my God,” she said. I leaned over and kissed her. “Come on,” I said. “These guys work for Wasim and Neha all the time. I’m sure they know how to be cool about this...” I wasn’t sure what to say. Shweta adopted a very funny snobby British accent: “This sort of… affair,” she said, like she had marbles in her mouth. She waved her hand in a circle above her as she did. We both laughed. She looked over at me. “Seriously,” she said. “Go check it out.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stretched out to her full glory, and she looked even more beautiful than usual. “I’m going to take a shower.” “Check it out?” I mused. “What do I ‘check out?’” Shweta trotted to the bathroom. “I don’t even know,” she said. “Just… if it’s super weird. Or, I don’t know.
They want me to be the yacht whore all the way home.” “Hmm,” I said. Shweta stopped by the door to the bathroom, her hand on it to keep it from swinging into the room, an annoying thing it did that I suppose was inevitable, even on a luxury yacht. “‘Hmm?’” she repeated. “‘Hmm,’ like… you want me to be the yacht whore?” I felt my mouth move open a little, but no sound came out. “Piyush!” she said. “You’re the one who said you liked it too much,” I protested. Shweta put her hand on her hip. “Are you serious right now?” she said, after a long pause.
I looked at the foot of the bed. “I say,” I said diplomatically, “let’s see what the day brings.” Shweta squinted. “Oh my God,” she said. “I have to pee.” And she shut the door. “Go check things out,” she called from behind the door. I had to pee as well, so I went to the shared bathroom near the rooms Junaid and Sahil were sharing. I was wary of running into either of them, at least down here in the cabin of the ship. It was the kind of over-tense energy you just didn’t want, like dogs on a leash in a small space. It would be fine if I saw them first on deck. Luckily, and as I suspected, they were both up there already, getting the boat rigged for sailing. Or, whatever you do when you have a fully automated boat. Checking things. I popped up, and Sahil was facing me, working with some halyards. “Mr. Sharma,” he said.
“We’re thinking of setting out in about half an hour. There’s a good wind.” His tone was professional, polite. There wasn’t a hint of his having fucked my wife in it. “Sounds good,” I said, hoping my own voice remained unchanged from the day before as I spoke. Junaid gave me a polite wave from the bow of the ship. Nothing seemed weird there either. Sahil came toward me and leaned on a railing. “So we have a couple of options,” he said. “There’s a good wind, like I told you – we can get all the way to Paradise Island today, I believe.” I nodded. “But... there is a very small island about 10 miles from here. A little tiny but out of the way, but it’s very beautiful.
A nice resort... Not too many people know about it. Why don’t you ask your wife if she has any interest in it? We can make Paradise the next day, Male on schedule. Good weather for the whole week.” He was smiling at me, like he was asking me if I wanted fish or chicken for dinner, but the implication was clear about that island. And what kind of “resort” was there. “I’ll see what she wants to do,” I agreed.
Sahil hit the banister lightly with two thumps, gave me a thumbs-up, and headed back to attend to rigging the boat. I headed back to the cabin and started some coffee for Shweta, who had consumed quite a bit more than she usually did. Then I went back to the master suite. Shweta was still in the shower, and I invited myself in to admire the view. I was feeling pretty good about Sahil and Junaid being fairly casual about what had happened the night before, and my mind was already on to the island and the possibilities that awaited us there.
I only hoped that Shweta would take it the same way. Her body shone with water and ribbons of sweetscented floral soap slid over her curves as she rinsed shampoo from her hair. Her eyes were closed but she smiled in my direction. “I hope that’s my husband,” she said, in a mysterious tone. My heart skipped. What if it wasn’t me? I waited, and Shweta kept smiling.
Keeping her eyes closed she took a loofah and soaped herself up, rubbing the sponge sensually over her body. “If it’s not him,” she teased, “it would be very inappropriate.” And then Shweta, who was not known to me for her exhibitionism, cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. I stared as she slid her hands over her hips and briefly tucked a finger into her slit.
She turned in the shower and bent over, as though to pick something up, giving me a nice view of her ass and her bare pussy peeking between her cheeks. I almost couldn’t believe this was my own wife. When she stood up, pushing water out of her hair, she was still smiling cleverly. I wondered how much of it was purely imaginary to her. If there wasn’t some part of her that didn’t want the man in the room to be someone other than her husband. She opened her eyes, and smiled at me. “So?” she said. I cleared my throat.
I was feeling a little bit frisky after that show had mixed with my imagination, but I was also exhausted. “I… um… Sahil… has two options for us.” Shweta turned and rinsed her hair again. “Hmm,” she said, sensually. “One is that we sail straight to Paradise. There’s a good wind.” “Mm-hmm.” “And the other… there is an island, apparently, a little out of the way. He said you might like it.” Shweta turned back to face me. “That almost sounds like Fantasy Island or something.
Sort of… what was that show about?” I smiled. Shweta was too young to know that show as anything but a cultural reference. “Be careful what you wish for,” I said, uncertainly. I had been a kid when I watched it. Shweta grinned. “I thought so.” She turned off the water. “Can you hand me that towel?” she said, pointing to a fluffy, unused white towel she had somehow found. I gave it to her as she opened the door.
She wrapped herself in it and took a hand towel to dry her hair. God, she was beautiful. She looked at the floor as she thought. “And why does Sahil think I’ll like this island?” she said, finally. She met my eyes. “I think you know,” I said. “And what about you? Did he think you would like this island?” I thought about my answer for a moment. “I think Sahil is more concerned about whether or not you’ll like the island.” Shweta’s cheeks took on a glow. It wasn’t really a blush, as much as a fire beneath her skin. “And what about you? Do you think you’ll like this island?” I nodded.
Shweta looked down at her body as she adjusted her towel. “I don’t know. Should we be doing this?” She looked back up at me. She seemed to really want the answer, which was kind of a turn-on in and of itself. It had been a long time since Shweta seemed to want my advice about anything, anything at all. I sat down on the edge of the tub and pulled her to me. I stroked the back of her knee, which made her giggle. Then I slowed the pace, and her face became serious when I looked up at her. “Listen,” I said. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.
That’s the most important thing. But… if you’re asking me if I want to try this, then… the answer is yes.” I bit the towel and tugged at it like a puppy. Shweta clutched the towel to her breasts and lifted her knee to ward me off. “Stop it,” she said. “This is serious.” “Okay,” I said. She sat down next to me. “I just… don’t you think we should have, like… I mean, don’t Wasim and Neha have rules, or something?” She set her elbows on her knees, a semichildish gesture that was as endearing as it was incongruous. “What do you want the rules to be?” I said. I’d make any rules she wanted. She lifted her knees up by pointing her feet forward onto her toes. They bobbed around playfully. “I guess… well, is this island a, you know… like that first one we went to? With a lot of people?” “I don’t know. I’m guessing so.” “Well,” she said. “I’m not so much into… um… that.” Interesting. “How do you mean?” I asked.
Shweta smiled sheepishly. “I don’t want you getting in on any other women. Really. And I’m not...” she looked up at the ceiling and sighed loudly. “Oh, how to say this? I’m not so much into doing it with just anyone.” My heart slammed around in my chest with excitement. “Check and check,” I said. “Not a problem.” She was quiet. “So, just for the record, you’re not into just anyone because…?” She looked at me sharply. Then she looked back at her feet. “Oh, don’t make me say it,” she said, that sheepish voice creeping into her throat again. I stroked her arm with my hand.
“What’s that?” I asked. It was a bit devilish of me, since I already knew what she was going to say. “You know,” she said. “I just like… him.” There’s no point in trying to hide from this narrative that I would have loved to press my wife into saying that she loved big circumcised cock, but I decided not to push my luck. I slapped my hands on my knees. “Okay. So no ladies for me, and no…” “Just no… I don’t know. Crazy swinging. I’m not into it.” Shweta sounded firm on this issue. Which was fine with me. I wasn’t really into it, either. I was perfectly happy with what I’d managed to get her to do, and I wasn’t going to get greedy.
“What about Junaid?” I asked. “He’s kind of… you know.” Okay, so maybe a little greedy. Shweta slapped me on the knee. “Oh my God!” she said. “This is… this is crazy enough.” I held my hands out, palms open, Okay. “And this is the other thing,” Shweta said, holding a finger up. “I get to decide what I want to do.” Of course, I nodded. Of course, because at the time I chose to interpret that as: she would decide whether to do something or not. I didn’t think Shweta – who at the time seemed a little prude when I compared her to my dirty thoughts – might want to do something beyond what I might have approved of.
If I had asked. “Agreed,” I said. “It’s your show.” She kissed me. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.” She cocked her head. “So, how did he seem? Was it weird?” It took me a moment to understand what she was referring to. “Oh,” I said. “Sahil. No. Actually… no, he was perfectly normal. I think… yeah, he’s just used to this, like I said.” Shweta tapped her teeth. “Huh,” she said. “Okay.” And then she kissed me again and walked into the room. She was wearing a white bikni and a white cover-up when she came out for coffee.



Bare feet, sweet-smelling, hair still wet and clipped up in a twist. She put her feet on my lap and I massaged the soles gently, getting a little turned on as I did, and we read an old paper. Sahil popped down to tell us we were taking off, and soon the boat began to keel. “I think I’m going to get some sleep while we sail,” Shweta commented. “I… didn’t get enough last night.” She smiled at me and trotted off to our room. I joined Sahil and Junaid on the deck. Sahil was busy sailing, and he mostly ignored me, except to ask me if I could check on a halyard that seemed loose on the sheet.
I settled in on the deck and enjoyed the breeze, even though I’d rather have been sailing the boat. Under normal circumstances, that is. I was actually just fine, preoccupied with my thoughts about Sahil and my wife as the hours ticked by until we arrived at this mysterious island. “So,” Sahil called back to us. “What do you think?” Most islands in the Maldives look about the same. There’s no shortage of crystal clear waters and azure horizons, white beaches fading into lush green jungle, and pretty women scattered on them in scant bikinis. But this particular bay was incredible: just meters from where the boat was anchored, which presumably had to be twenty feet deep to accommodate the keel, a plateau of white sand that extended for what seemed like half a mile to the beach yawned wide in either direction.
A few people were sitting in the water, some fields away from the shoreline, reclining on their elbows. A few others were walking, almost as if they could walk on water, closer to the beach. “It’s so shallow here,” Sahil proclaimed, “it’s like a hot tub. But don’t worry, there’s a lagoon you can go to to cool off.” He was smiling broadly. The beach itself was dotted with umbrellas and colorful towels, so there were some signs of life. “It’s magical,” Shweta breathed. “Is it… is there anything here?” Sahil smiled. “There’s a nice resort on the other side, but I like this beach.” Shweta clasped her hands together. “Ooh” she squealed. “I’m finally going to get to float on my mattress!!” She had really been waiting for this. She had brought an inflatable mattress with her and she had envisioned herself floating on it in waters exactly like this, but it hadn’t worked out for most of the trip.
Shweta retrieved her mattress, and Sahil gallantly blew it up for her when it became apparent that we had no idea where the air pump was, and Shweta’s countenance began to wilt the longer it took. Shweta stood by him as he huffed into the mattress, and for a moment I was outside of the scene completely, watching my wife as her life might have been with another man, or having an affair. It was exhilarating. He got Shweta into the water, and then sat down to blow up his own mattress. “Is this island the kind of island I think it is?” I said. He smiled as he continued blowing. When he took a breather he looked out at the beach. “It’s probably better.” He started puffing again. On his next pause he smiled at me. “It can be kind of wild at night. Maybe we’ll see how the day goes?” He dropped his mattress onto the swim platform and nimbly settled on it. Then he looked at me. “No swimming for you?” “Not yet,” I said dryly. At some point in all of this air mattress hubub, Junaid had appeared and given me a nod in greeting. Sahil and him exchanged a few words, and Junaid dropped the raft into the water.
He headed off to the port side of the boat, away from the beach. “He likes to fish,” Sahil said, by way of explanation. Sahil pushed off, his muscles rippling as he did, and I settled in to my deck chair to unabashedly watch the scene unfold. He used his thick arms to paddle himself slowly in the direction of my wife, the alabaster goddess, who was moving slow circles on her light blue “floaty.” I remembered, at that moment, that there were a great pair of binoculars in the control room. I practically ran to the control deck, not wanting to miss a minute of Sahil and my wife, and then scrambled back to the chair I had set out. Sahil was just floating up to her when I got back. With the binoculars, I could see them like they were right in front of the boat.
I focused on Shweta’s face. As Sahil approached, she smiled, and turned her head in his direction. Sahil reached out and caught her floaty to bring it close to his. He maneuvered his way so that he was floating side by side with her, his head at her feet, hers at his. And then he wasted no time, and neither did my wife. His black hands were on her feet almost immediately. He was telling her something, his big lips moving, smiling, as he no doubt said something seductive and rubbed her feet. He began at the soles of her feet, like an ordinary foot rub. I watched as his hands moved over them.
No doubt her feet were dry and smooth by then, warm to the touch. He pushed hard circles into the bottom of her foot, and the mattresses slowly turned so that I couldn’t see Shweta’s face, just Sahil’s. And then his hands moved up to her ankle. The skin made an easy-to-see silhouette against Shweta’s skin as his hands traveled from her ankle to her calf, massaging. The mattress moved alongside his, as he pulled her by the legs so that her upper body was getting closer to his. I sucked in my breath. He was really going in hard and fast. The mattresses floated slowly around, and Shweta’s face came into view. She had a strange smile on her face as Sahil moved his hand up to her knee. Then she suddenly smiled broadly, and then laughed. She jerked her leg.
He must have tickled her, right under the knee, sending goosebumps along the back of her leg. This was Shweta’s most erogenous zone, and if he kissed her there she’d purr like a cat and her pussy would well up instantly. Shweta was no longer kicking, no longer laughing. She stretched her legs out and Sahil moved his hand beneath them.
Her face had changed into a serious, steamy expression. The mattresses slowly turned. Now Shweta’s legs were facing me, and I could only see the back of the pillow on Sahil’s mattress supporting his head. But his hands, sliding up, up to Shweta’s pale blue bikini bottoms – that I could see. I watched as he paused on her upper thigh, strumming his fingers over her flesh. What could they be saying to each other? I wondered. Was he charming her with some kind of ordinary tale, stroking her thighs as though she were a girlfriend and they shared some kind of casual intimacy? Or was it something more overt, more sexual? And how did Shweta feel about it?
Did she like him telling her, explicitly, what his sexual plans were for her? Did she enjoy it if she had a new man to listen to, new stories to hear, while new fingers – dark, strong fingers – strummed over her thighs? The mattresses had stopped turning, the momentum they had been given dying out in the still water. Luckily for me, I had a view of Shweta’s outstretched body, and her face. A sliver of Sahil’s face, enough to see his mouth and the smile on it as he spoke to my wife. And most fortunate of all, a clear view to his fingers, which were inching up her legs. He was sweeping them over her skin now, ever closer to her bikini bottoms. Shweta’s face was serious, her lips slightly parted. Then she smiled; apparently he had said something very funny. His hand moved up, turned over to brush her thigh with the back of it. He edged the mattress alongside hers, making it begin to spin again, very slowly. His fingers were on the strings of her bikini, playing with them. Shweta appeared to be looking at the boat at that moment.
It was hard to tell with her sunglasses. From where she was, I knew she could see me, though she would be slightly uncertain as to what I was doing. The dark fingers tugged at the strings that held her bikini to her hip. The long bow slipped slowly through its coiled self and then unraveled, and the powder blue fabric hung loosely over her pelvis, a little crumpled, a little corrupted. Shweta was motionless now, both her body and the look on her face. Slowly, Sahil peeled back the bikini bottom, letting it open like a flap. I couldn’t see the details of my wife’s bare cunt that he could, but I knew he was there, enjoying the view, enjoying the knowledge that he had fucked her the night before and he would get to sheathe his cock in her sweet, hot cunt again.
They floated there, with her bikini open to him, and him saying god knows what, for what seemed like an eternity but was probably just a brief moment of time. Then Shweta shook her head and laughed, and took the bikini bottom and tied it back together again. I watched my wife lean forward and say something with her mouth in its most seductive pout, before she rolled off and into the water. Sahil paddled lazily after her, taking her mattress with him. Shweta returned to the mattress after a few long strokes away and then a tidy flip to come back. She propped herself up on the mattress and slicked her hair back. And there they remained for quite a bit of time, Shweta and Sahil chatting with each other flirtatiously. Shweta, I realized after a while, was teasing him, drawing it out, teasing me as well. The sensations coursing through my body were extraordinary, but along with the pleasure of seeing of her with Sahil, throwing herself into her teasing, I felt sharp, icecold needles of jealousy in my gut. As my wife smiled and leaned on her air mattress, I had fleeting moments of imagining what it would be like to reflect back on this moment, sometime in the future when Shweta had left me for Sahil, thinking about what an idiot I was for taking this kind of chance.
Still, I sat there watching them, sinking into the pain and the exhilaration. When they finally paddled back, pausing along the way for Sahil to clasp Shweta’s hand in both of his and make her laugh - I crept away and up to the deck. As deeply as it was paining me, I had a craving to keep playing the voyeur. To watch my wife as though I wasn’t here, and there was nothing I could do to stop her from what was inevitably going to happen. They were laughing as they boarded the boat. The playful, teasing giggling of two people who have just met and still enjoy every single thing about each other. A knife of nostalgia cut through me: we were like that, once. I was sitting on the couch, looking aft toward the cockpit. I had thought about hiding myself better, really getting into the voyeurism, but then I decided it was silly. Also I wanted to look like I had control over things, even if there was part of me that realized that was no longer entirely true. They stood in the cockpit for bit, and Shweta lifted her hair so that Sahil could do something – and it seemed very contrived – to her bikini strings.
Maybe they needed tightening, maybe she had asked him to check some absurd thing that required no checking. Shweta held her hair up, and Sahil did whatever she had asked him to do, and I waited, entranced, for the inevitable. It seemed like minutes passed before Sahil leaned in to her neck, and nit into the strings of her suit with his teeth. Then he pulled, slowly, and the bikini began to come undone. Shweta lifted her eyes to meet mine: she had known exactly where I was, exactly how I would be seated there watching her. The look she gave me burned right through my core. I hadn’t seen Shweta with an expression like this – mischievous, in control, sexually aroused, all at once – in all my life. I felt another free-fall of my guts. A hundred doubts percolated through my head at once: what if my wife changed and would never be the same? What if she lost control? What if this ended our marriage? What if it was all a stupid mistake, a risk too great? What if Shweta was actually the architect of all of this and I was being cuckolded? But the bubbles of anxiety burst as quickly as they arose, because beneath all of this was the much stronger arousal, the need, to see her take things all the way. The string reached the end of the knot, and the bikini peeled away, letting Shweta’s pretty breasts – two light triangles in the center of her tanned skin – be freed up. Sahil wasted no time getting his large hands over them, kneading them and rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. While he did this he sucked on her neck, on her earlobe, kissed her shoulder, made his way down one side of her neck and then back and around again.

[samcuck2]

Shweta continued to stare at me with that look until she could take more, and her eyes closed – halfway at first, then heavily shut – as she was overtaken by the ecstasy of Sahil’s attentions. His hand slid down, dipping into he bikini bottoms. I had to rise up from the couch to see his hands fondling her beneath the fabric. The knuckled of his hand pushed out like a tent and then dropped, and it was plain to see that he gone ahead and plunged into her cunt, which I’m sure was already wet. He walked her forward to the bench set against the aft wall of the cabin, and Shweta put her hands against it. I heard a little gasp, but all I could see now was Shweta’s hair as her head moved, down and then up, shaking a little. Sahil had moved down, and so from the motions of Shweta’s head I could only guess that he was sliding his tongue into Shweta’s delicious, soaked folds. I moved forward to the opposite couch, and then crept into the navigation area. I could now see Shweta’s bare chest, her hand clenched around a cleat, her mouth open and her eyes rolling back in her head as she leaned back and mewled. Behind her, I could see Sahil’s legs, as he knelt to play with my wife’s pussy with his tongue. And evidently, he was doing a great job. Shweta whimpered and breathed hysterically until at last she let out a strangled scream.
Sahil rose behind her, his skin like onyx oil in the sunlight. Shweta’s body was trembling and she was still whimpering with the waves of ecstasy that rolled through her. Her jaw dropped, and I knew that Sahil’s cock was sliding inside of her. His body moved close to her, and he pulled her hair away from her neck as he slapped his thighs against her ass. His lips moved next to her ear, and Shweta seemed to like whatever he was saying, as he hammered his cock into her. I wondered if he was telling her about all the things he planned to do to her.
And what they were. I stared openly, forgetting myself, as Sahil pounded into my wife until she began to squeal again. “Oh God,” she said. “Oh God, I’m going to come again!” Her voice sounded strange to me, almost unhinged. “Oh God!” Shweta yelled again, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, oh!” My wife screamed again as she came, and dropped her head, her hands against the boat to hold herself in place whole Sahil hammered into her. I was surprised, though, that instead of speeding up to blow his seed into her pussy, Sahil leaned forward and started to talk to her again, his hips static, his arms alongside hers. Shweta and Sahil, together, pushed away from the wall of the cabin then, and for a moment I didn’t know what they were going to do. Shweta’s sweaty body writhed in Sahil’s arms as he turned her around and kissed her wetly. And then I knew, as they twisted and moved, and then dropped out of sight: they were going below decks. I went cold for a moment, and then I looked around the boat. Then I heard Shweta’s laugh, and I remembered: the master suite hatchway: a darkened window that, conveniently enough, we had left open this morning. I stepped on the deck quietly, almost creeping – not that Wasim’s yacht was the sort to creak – and then I lay down on the warm wood and peered into the master suite. “… to try it,” Shweta was saying. Her voice was breathless. The scent of sex hit my nostrils, even from there. Shweta’s sweet pussy, and Sahil’s musky, masculine smell. I had to put my hand over my eyes to shield myself from the sun, and see into the room, where Shweta’s lithe body was propped on her hands and knees, her head turned back to watch what Sahil was doing to her. And Sahil had his dark hand between her legs, massaging her, making her writhe in pleasure. I heard the squelching of her pussy as he finger-fucked her. He was watching her face, his own almost serious. “You sure about this? You’ve never done it before.”
Shweta mewled again, as Sahil’s hand twisted inside of her, evidently trying to convince her that she did want his – whatever it was. “I want to try it,” she said. A cold feeling sank through me, before I even saw what “it” was. Sahil slid his fingers from inside her pussy and then up higher – into her ass. “Oh! Oh, go slow,” Shweta said. She turned to face the headboard of the bed, biting her lower lip. Her feet twisted. “Oh!” Sahil pressed on her lower back gently to get her to arch it in a feline pose that made her ass bloom into a perfect bubble. I also got treated to a much better view of the big two fingers that were sinking into her ass. “That’s it,” Sahil said. He brought his cock to her pussy with his other hand, and drew the glistening juices of Shweta’s pussy up to his cock. His strong hand stroked the long, meaty, veined length of his cock, getting it wet with Shweta’s own cum.
His fingers crept slowly out of Shweta’s ass, and then the fat head of his dick was at the eyelet of her anus. He pressed on her back again, getting her into position. “I’ll go nice and slow,” he growled. “Just relax.” Shweta threw her head back, and looked up – not at me, just at the ceiling, her face contorted into an animal expression, as Sahil Khan sank his fat cock one inch at a time into her ass. “Oh!” she said, over and over again, but it was evident that Shweta enjoyed it, once he got going. She enjoyed taking every last inch of Sahil’s dick into her rear. I could see it on her face. When he finally had himself all the way inside of her, and his pelvis fit up against her ass like two pieces of a puzzle, Sahil reached forward and hooked a hand under her chest. He lifted her slowly, until she was almost sitting on his lap. “Oh my God!” Shweta wailed. Sahil pressed her against his chest, and licked her ear. His free hand slid down between her legs, to the exploding flower of her cunt. It was so wet that it shone, and he expertly guided his fingers to her clit.
Shweta did not have to bounce very long before both she and Sahil were breathing heavily and gasping, and within moments I could see the pulsing of Sahil’s cock as his seed poured into my wife’s ass, filling her up. Shweta yelped, and wriggled in his arms, as her own orgasm overtook her. He pushed her forward and she collapsed onto her chest as he threw a few good, hard fucks into her to get every last drop of his cum inside of her. They lay like this, panting. The long circumcised snake of Sahil’s cock finally flopped out of Shweta, and slapped wet against his thigh. He jiggled his balls, which were sticky with his cum, and Shweta rolled onto her side. Sahil climbed over my wife’s body, and kissed her on the mouth. The action was unexpected for me, unsettling. My cock was hard with excitement but my stomach twisted with a cold uncertainty when he did this. “That was some first time, beautiful,” he said. Then he stood up and opened the door to the bathroom. “I have to shower,” he offered by way of explanation, and closed the door. Shweta rolled onto her back. Her body, fully naked, sticky with her juices and the cum of another man, most of all between her legs, was spread out for me to view. She looked up at me through the window. And smiled. Then she stood up, putting her hand on the door. “Wait,” I said. “Don’t shower yet.” Shweta looked up at me strangely, and then she shrugged, lying back on the bed. Sahil was in the shower for quite a while, and then he emerged: a huge, glistening muscular man with an almost perfect body. I stared at Shweta’s face as she looked him up and down. She was back to interacting with him as though I wasn't there, as though she didn’t even know that I was. She pulled the sheets around her. “I think I’m going to take a little nap,” she said.
Sahil smiled, leaned over my wife again, and kissed her. “I’ll get things packed for tonight.” As luck would have it, when I propped myself up on the deck in a crouch, wondering what to do next, I saw Junaid approaching in the raft. I stood up, dizzy from the scene I had just witnessed, and he thrust his hands into the air. He had a string of fish clutched in his fist. Sahil was just popping out of the cabin at that moment, and he went portside to salute the victorious fisherman.
Which gave me the perfect opportunity to scurry around the navigation area to starboard, and drop into the hatchway and the cabin without having some kind of awkward moment with Sahil. Because if there was one thing I hadn’t thought through very well, it was how close quarters could get when you were letting another man fuck your wife on a yacht – even a very big one. Shweta dropped her eyes from the ceiling when I opened the door and closed it behind me. “I was just talking to you,” she said, pointing up at the hatch. I said nothing. I was too full of conflicting feelings, wild need, and my pumping blood, to think of anything to say. Shweta must have read this on my face, because she climbed onto her knees and let the sheet drop from her body. Up closer, she smelled even more like the scents of sex, and her body was even more obviously adulterated. Pink, rubbing burns tinted the lips of her pussy, and cum had stuck to the insides of her thighs. “So,” she said. “Did you enjoy the show?” A noise that I would best describe as a rumble came from my throat. No matter for Shweta, who was sliding my belt from the loops, edging closer to me, smiling. She took my cock in her hand, and got onto her hands and knees. Her ass was facing the mirror headboard now, and when I glanced up at it I saw I had a view of her ass: the slightly gaped hole and the trickle of white cum sliding down to her red cunt. “I think I’m too sore for anything else,” Shweta was saying, and she was looking at me with a smile when I looked down at her. I looked back up at the mirror. Sahil had been everywhere in my wife this afternoon, and there was still more to come - But Shweta had her mouth around my cock now, and her tongue was making swift circles around my shaft inside of the hot liquid of her cheeks and throat. I stared at her ass, and the back of her head in the mirror, almost as if I were watching her fuck someone else again.
When I came, I didn’t even try to stifle the yell. We ate the fish Junaid had caught together on the deck. I expected it to be a little weird, but Sahil had an easygoing way about him, a way of putting on his navy shorts and white polo shirt and returning to his role as ship’s captain as opposed to bull, that was unnervingly professional. The subsequent events remain hazy in my memory, maybe because I had too much to drink, maybe because of what we were doing, maybe because of the Maldivian air or because all the substances being smoked on the beach went to my head. After the fish, I settled in on the couch in a very relaxed way, so much that I was almost worried Sahil had drugged me and was going to take advantage of my unconsciousness to have his way with my wife. Then I remembered he already had. The beach lit up with Tiki torches and bonfires, and I noticed that a series of white, box-shaped items had been constructed on the beach since the early morning. I struggled to remember if they had always been there, but the warm, hazy feeling that was coming over me didn’t facilitate me thinking about it for long. Shweta changed her clothes at some point, I think while I was having a conversation, in pidgin English, with Junaid. Suddenly she was in a white sundress, glowing in the early evening light. I kissed her, Sahil disappeared for a while, and then almost suddenly he was standing in front of us, rubbing his hands together.

[samcuck2]

“Okay,” Sahil said with a broad grin. “Who wants to go to the fantasy island?” A sequence of lovely moments: Shweta smiling at me from the other side of the raft, the sun lighting up her face. The water, almost warm enough to be a hot tub, licking at my heels ass we climbed out of the boat. And then, just like that, Shweta was in front of me, her fingers entwined with Sahil’s, and I was walking behind them, as if they were the couple and I was the third wheel, or not even there. We sat down at a fire, which was actually a professionally built fire pit. There were a lot of the same kinds of couples around us, laughing, kissing, trading partners, grouping up instead of pairing up. I looked around: the white boxes were actually little rooms; beds with mosquito netting on them and curtains that no one seemed to be drawing. When I looked back at the fire, Sahil was smiling at me over the flames. I smiled back, because why not? It was a strange reality, settling in on me in a way that felt neither right nor wrong. I watched Sahil and Shweta together, and even though Shweta kept looking over at me to smile or say something, Sahil seemed like her partner.
I said I wanted to go for a walk on the beach, and I did. I weaved in and out of the many couples and threesomes, some of them on the sand and some in the beds, and I had strange and mixed emotions. Oddly, I didn’t find it very erotic: I felt displaced, unreal, like I was watching another world through a crystal ball or something. When I got back to our fire, Shweta was flirting with another man, a stranger, with one hand in Sahil’s lap. Our own group hadn’t gotten wild yet: it was still at the level of the end of a college party – people starting to reach out, find their lover for the evening, brush their fingers over breasts and awakening erections. I stared at Shweta's fingers tracing the shape of Sahil’s cock through the navy shorts. Junaid was drinking a beer and staring at my wife, so I joined him. Shweta’s free hand was on the stranger’s arm, drawing her fingers up and down the length of it. This went on for a while, and I sort of faded out of the scene, even though I was still there. It wasn’t a very conscious choice, and reflecting on it now, it was odd. I knew where the evening was headed, I could see it in my wife’s fingers on Sahil’s cock, her smile for the strange man, in the hungry expression on Junaid’s face. I could probably have put an end to it, or gotten more involved, but I just kept watching, reflecting on it from the outside.
I wasn’t sure if it was thrilling or horrifying. Shweta leaned forward and kissed the new man, and she laughed when his stubble tickled her face. Sahil put a hand on her white skin and drew it down the length of her arm. And at that moment, I realized that part of the pain deep in my abdomen was from having to piss. I excused myself to do so, and Shweta looked up at me, her face suddenly registering everything that was happening. “Are you okay?” She said. “Is everything all right?” I knew that if I wanted to stop anything, that was the cue. Sahil’s fingers strummed on Shweta’s arm and he looked at me expectantly. The stubble-covered stranger brushed his lips over her shoulder. Junaid took a swig of his beer. “I just have to piss,” I said, and I smiled. “Everything’s fine.” It took a long time to piss, even though I had to go so bad. My cock was too hard and I couldn’t think of anything to get it to calm down. Whatever disconnect I had been feeling in my mind, my body was definitely here on this island. I laughed a little to myself when I realized how far into the jungle I’d traipsed, given how intimate we were all becoming in every other respect. It was pretty silly to be all the way out there to piss. I looked up at the stars and waited for inspiration to come. I don’t know how long I was there. The stars were amazingly beautiful; I remember thinking that. But my mind was elsewhere no matter how much I tried to take it off of Shweta, Shweta the slut, Shweta letting Sahil fuck her like a whore on the yacht. I finally relieved myself, and then I stumbled around a bit, disoriented about the time and the direction I had come from. I knew where the beach was, of course, but it seemed like the bonfires were in the wrong place when I turned around. I headed off at a diagonal angle, and then changed my mind and zig-zagged. It had grown suddenly dark, in the way that it does out on the water where there is no city to glow in the distance. When I got to the beach there were only silhouettes of people, and they all seemed to have grouped off in different numbers than before I had left.
Though it was difficult to believe, I was lost on the small beach. I started toward a couple, but within a few yards of them I realized that the man was dark but not black. I headed in another direction, past groups in the canopied beds, and then I realized I had gone much to far in one direction down the beach. But where was Shweta? When I turned around I started to have my first sense of mild panic about what we were doing: had I lost her? What if Sahil had kidnapped her or dragged her into the jungle to do even more things to her? I knew it was ridiculous but it’s where my mind went. I trudged through the sand, feeling a little panicked and trying not to show it, my heart racing.
No couples, no couples anywhere. All the canopies were filled with whole groups of people, three and sometimes four, and things were quickly getting wild. Moans were coming from every corner, driving me wild, turning me on, and making me more frantic to find Shweta. And then I realized: I had passed her several times now. I heard her voice in one of the moans, the shape of her throat in the sound. People had ceased attending to their bonfires and now only the weakest light of the dying flames and the Tiki torches reached into the tents over the beds. The tent where Shweta was had been closed, the mosquito netting hiding not much of anything. I had to step close to see in, to see past the white blur of the mesh, but once I did I had a very clear view into the tent. My heart nearly jumped through my chest, and my cock came to full attention so hard it almost felt like someone had slapped it.
Shweta was smiling, leaning back against Sahil’s chest. They were both on their knees, and he had his arms around her body, his hands against her skin and exploring the front of her body like he owned her. He squeezed her breasts and tucked his hands under a bikini top she had been wearing under her now-discarded sundress, plunged his fingers into her bikini bottom and stroked her gash, then drew the liquid dripping from her cunt up to her lips where he painted it on them like a lip gloss. That wasn’t what was driving me wild, though. What was driving me wild was Junaid, which I had anticipated and almost hoped for, and the other stranger from the beach had joined him. They were watching, lying on their elbows, as Sahil helped himself to handfuls of my wife. Sahil pushed Shweta’s hair away from her ear and whispered something to her. His other hand was dipping back to her pussy. Shweta’s eyes went wide with alarm. “I don’t… I’m not sure if I can...” she said. I heard Sahil very clearly then. “It’s okay, it’s okay. He told me it’s okay, go ahead and do it.” Shweta looked at the two men in front of her. Sahil brought her pussy juices to her lips again, and his thick fingertips spread it over her lower lip. Then he pushed her head forward gently. “Give Junaid a taste,” Sahil said. I stared, my cock almost exploding, as Junaid ran his tongue over Shweta’s lips, and then she responded by kissing him wetly. Sahil put his hand on her throat gently to lean her head back, and Junaid began to kiss her, starting with her neck, moving down to her breasts. He pulled the bikini away and hooked it under her breasts, so that they were pushed up. He sucked one nipple into his mouth while Sahil stroked the other, and as he did he shimmied out of his swim trucks without taking his mouth off my wife’s tit.
The other guy also slid his swim trunks away, though he remained to the side, watching. I almost found him to be the most lurid of the three, holding his heavy cock in his hand on his knees, waiting for them to finish with my wife so he could have her last, dirty and limp, full of cum. So far, no one had noticed me, and that was fine. I tried to control my breathing so no one would. Sahil was untying the bikini bottoms again, and the material fell open, revealing Shweta’s bare gash. Junaid released her nipple and leaned back on his heels to admire her pussy as Sahil slid his finger through the wet slit and into her cunt. He easily slid two fingers into her hole and started to finger fuck her with one hand while he pinched her nipple in the other. Junaid had his cock in his hand and he was stroking himself, though it wasn’t to get ready: his cock was little smaller than Sahil’s in length, but the girth was comparable and it was black as coal
He was also circumcised and the length of his black dick was taut and the veins strained against it. It curved a little at the end, to the right, and the crown was fat and bulbous. Sahil slid his hands down to her thighs and pulled them open and apart. My wife’s cunt glistened in the dim light and I distinctly heard a little slosh. She was wildly wet, and probably her cunt was still dripping with Sahil’s cum. Sahil’s cock had been freed somehow, and it pressed between her legs, a dark snake ready to slip inside of her. Shweta had been giving herself over to them as though she had no control, until that moment. She looked down at Sahil’s cock and absent-mindedly rubbed her hand over it. Then she leaned forward and took Junaid’s cock in her hand. She admired it for a moment, maybe feeling out how different it was. So many different cocks in such a short time, I thought. Junaid backed up a little, so that my wife could lean forward and get her mouth on his dick.
Sahil wasted no time adjusting himself behind her. He played with his cock at her opening for a bit, and Shweta moaned. Her mouth was already full of Junaid’s dick, and Junaid had placed his hand against the back of her head, pushing her head down to the base of his cock. She’d had so much practice swallowing Sahil’s cock that this seemed to be no problem for her, and his fat dick filled her mouth with no problem. Shweta moaned again as Sahil slid into her, spreading her pussy open yet again with his dark, gnarly prick. The third man couldn’t wait. He walked on his knees toward Shweta’s mouth. It blocked my view, so I had to take a step to the left. Sahil looked over at that point, and he must have seen me, but he turned his attention back to my wife’s pussy again without acknowledging me. Third man had his cock in his hand, and he had placed it on Shweta’s bobbing cheek. Her jaw and her puffed-out face rubbed along the wet crown of his dick as she sucked Junaid’s cock earnestly. Her body swung back and forth lightly as Sahil pistoned in and out of her.
The third man reached out and drew his fingers over Shweta’s stretched lip and up to her ear. He pushed her hair from her face as she turned her head and let Junaid’s cock slide out of her mouth. Keeping her mouth open like a whore, she turned to the third man and took his cock inside her mouth. Junaid and this guy took turns pushing my wife’s face up and down on their cocks, while Sahil hammered her with increasing violence from behind. Her pussy was so wet that the sloshing it made could be heard over her muffled moaning. Her mouth was full of the stranger’s cock when she made a squealing noise and came. Sahil’s cock slipped in and out of my wife a few more times, her cum making it slosh even more. Then he groaned, and thrust deep into her. I watched Sahil fill my wife’s pussy yet again. The tendons on his neck strained as his seed gushed deep into her. Shweta had taken the third man’s cock by the hand and let his dick slip from her mouth as her own jaw fell open with Sahil’s hard thrusts. Her face was wet with saliva and precum, water that had dripped from her eyes. She looked up at him once Sahil finished himself off inside of her, and opened her mouth again with a smile, shoveling his prick into her mouth like she was starving. Junaid was rubbing his cock in her hair, his sticky precum dripping into her blonde strands. When Sahil withdrew from inside of her, he hopped off the bed and went around to take his place.
Sahil was slightly out of breath, and he reclined on the bed, leaning on one shoulder to watch as Junaid slipped his cock into her pussy. Sahil looked up at me briefly. His fingers stretched away from his bare chest, in the general direction of my wife. “You gonna get in on this?” he said. Shweta, at that point, looked over at Sahil and saw me through the mosquito netting. Her mouth was stretched open by the third man’s cock and she met my eyes. He reached behind her and pushed her deep onto his dick, and she dropped her eyes to attend to her cocksucking more thoroughly. “Fuck, that’s a sloppy cunt,” Junaid said, dipping into my wife’s pussy. He pushed her asscheeks open and watched his dick moving in and out of her. I moved slowly around to the front of the tent where the opening was, my eyes on my wife being appropriated the whole time. Junaid had grabbed her hips and was fucking her furiously, his face screwed up in determination. It was obvious that her pussy was just too wet for him to get any real traction. The third man looked over at me and then right back at Shweta.
She looked up at his eyes and he held her by the hair, holding her still so he could slam his cock into her face until he came. When he did, he shoved himself deep in her throat and poured himself into her. “Keep it in there,” he said. “Keep it in the back of your throat, I want to see it before you swallow.” I was sliding out of my swimsuit, and my cock bounced wildly. He slid his cock from her mouth and she opened wide, like some slut from a porn video. I leaned over to see the glob of white cum in the back of her throat, just before she closed her mouth and swallowed it. Junaid groaned. “Fuck,” he said. “Your pussy’s too wet, you little slut,” he said. I looked down at Shweta, who was looking at me. She had my cock in her hand. We exchanged a lot in this look, at least I thought so. Shweta moved her head slightly in a nod, and smiled. Such a little slut. I pushed her hair from her face and placed my cock on her whore lips, then I looked up at Junaid. “Shweta has a little fantasy,” I said. I slid my cock into her greedy mouth as I leaned over her to slide my fingers into her asscrack and touch her puckered asshole. Junaid grinned. “Oh yeah?” Shweta made a noise on my cock, and struggled to release me.
There was a wet slurp as she let my cock fall from her mouth and stroked me with her hand. She turned back to Junaid. “I’ve only done it once,” she said. Junaid already had a thumb against her hole, and he was making circles over it, entranced. Shweta looked up at me, my cock in her hand. Junaid guided his dick to her opening, and for a moment Shweta’s face twisted with discomfort. But then he was already pushing inside of her; there was nothing to be done. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell open, and she relaxed her grip on my cock. I looked back at the inches of Junaid’s dick disappearing into my wife’s ass, inch my inch. “Oh,” Shweta said, in a small voice. “Oh… slow down… oh,” her voice was turning from an expression like she had been pinched into a moan. “Oh… oh, wait, oh god, it’s too big… I can’t...” I looked up at Junaid, ready to ask him to stop, but Shweta opened her mouth wide and gasped as the final inches of his dick filled her ass. She looked up at me. “It’s… so...” Junaid slowly drew his cock out a few inches, and then slowly back in. “Oh, my… oh my God,” Shweta said.
Then, she looked down at my dick in her hand, and took it into her mouth again. With her wet mouth around my dick, and the third cock of the last fifteen minutes, I watched as Junaid fucked my wife in the ass. He moved slowly at first, and a murmur that vibrated over the length of my shaft built up in her throat. He started to pump into her quickly, staring down at the same sight as me: his column squeezed by the stretched eyelet of her ass. I looked up to see that Sahil was watching closely, enjoying the sight from where he was, his black member swelling back to life again. I realized that in all likelihood, he was going to get inside of her again, that he would bury his shaft in her ass. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the thought down and keep myself from exploding, but it was to no avail: the orgasm boiled up in the base of my cock and soon I was filling Shweta’s mouth with cum. I felt it around my cock, against her soft cheeks, and when I looked down I shuddered: it was spilling out from the sides of her mouth. She sucked it off, her tongue swirling around my shaft, licking up every little bit until she released my dick and it flopped from her mouth. “Oh, oh!” She looked up at me and tilted her head to suck some spilled cum from my balls. I was so stunned by the scene once I came, by the extraordinary lengths my wife was going to, that everything started to happen in slow motion.
I looked up at Junaid, who looked at me. “She really likes it in the ass,” he said, smiling. I looked back down at Shweta, who had her mouth open and my balls dangling in it. She had closed her eyes and was rapt with the pleasure she appeared to be getting from Junaid fucking her in the rear. Her head sank down, and I sort of drifted backward onto the bed. Junaid groaned and looked up at the canopy, yelling something in Spanish as he emptied his seed into Shweta’s ass. I felt the bed shift next to me, and Sahil was moving over to take Junaid’s place. I looked at Shweta, who had sunk down to the bed, her chest against it, her eyes staring toward me but not at me. She had her hands under her chest and along her torso, and I could see that her fingers were in her pussy, playing with her clit. Junaid slid out of her ass, and I heard the wet splat of his cock as it fell against his thigh.
I turned my head slowly from Shweta’s vacant, hypnotized eyes, and caught a glimpse of Sahil’s shaft, thick and ready, pointed toward Shweta’s butt. I looked back at her, and her eyes went half-closed as he entered her. She mewled, her hand clutching at the mattress. For a few minutes, Sahil fucked her slowly, and then she began to howl again. The sloshing sounds of her own fingers in her pussy became louder and faster, and then she started to scream as she came. Sahil sucked on his lower lip, enjoying the pulsing of her body, no doubt, as she came. Sahil reached forward and wound his hands in her hair. She was sweaty and her hair was as damp as if she had taken a shower. Sahil pulled her gently back and up toward him, settling down on his feet so that he was kneeling with Shweta resting on his lap. Shweta rose up at first, and Sahil pulled her down. I could see his shaft between her legs, disappearing as she let out a howl. “That’s it. Sit right down on my cock.” I stared at the scene: Shweta bounced up and down on his cock, her legs spread open again and her cunt just visible between them spewing her excitement and the cum Sahil had already fucked into her pussy. Her thighs were soaked with cum, and her whole body was shiny with sweat. She leaned her head back toward Sahil’s chest and let him bounce her over his cock as he pleased. But then third man, who I had almost forgotten about, got in on the action. He moved toward them and fondled Shweta’s breasts.
She was coming back to life again, her body tense with another building climax. Sahil leaned back, and the third man pushed her legs apart. For a moment I had a perfect view of Sahil’s cock buried in her ass, his balls huge and swollen beneath it. Shweta’s pussy yawned open, and Sahil snaked his arms under her thighs to hold her spread open. Shweta opened her eyes and looked down at the stranger’s cock pointed at her pussy. “Oh,” she said. “I can’t! It’s too much.” But she bit on her lip and her hungry eyes stared at the dick that moved closer to her gash. She stopped protesting, and stared wide-eyed as he lined his blunt cock up with her gushing hole. Juices were sliding down to her stretched asshole, probably helping lube Sahil’s dick. Sahil’s cock was long enough that even sitting in this position, a good part of his dick was still inside Shweta, though it had to be pressing outward into her pussy. “Oh my, oh my… oh my God!” Shweta shrieked, as the stranger braced himself on her shoulders, placed one leg over hers and Sahil’s, and dipped his cock into her pussy. His backside obscured her face, and all I could see was his body pistoning back and forth, a glimpse of Sahil’s cock buried in her ass, and her flopping legs. Shweta squealed and screamed, moaned and mewled, until her voice finally disappeared into a high pitch shriek.
“Fuck!” she yelled. “Oh God! Oh, no, I can’t take any more, oh fuck!” Her legs went stiff as her body shook with an orgasm, and then she melted into a limp rag doll as they fucked her like a whore until they both came, filling her whole body with their cum. When the two men’s bodies ceased their lurching into my wife, the stranger fell back onto the bed and I saw Shweta. She was exhausted, a disaster, and Sahil’s cock was still inside of her. Junaid had somehow gotten in, between the two of them, and guided his cock to her mouth, so she had her hand wrapped around his cock and her mouth around the crown of it, sucking away even though she was clearly half-dead from so much activity. Cum drained from her spread pussy, and I stared at the sight while I listened to the wet sucking she was still giving Junaid. Sahil pushed her up to get out from under her, his cock slipping out with another squelch. Junaid cradled my wife’s head and pushed himself further into her throat. He did most of the work, and Sahil held her up from behind so that he could pound one last load into her mouth. It took a long time for him to cum.
My own cock was aching but I wasn’t sure how to get in on this last bit of my wife. When at last Junaid came, Shweta swallowed dutifully, and he wiped a bit of cum from her lips and held his finger for her to suck it off. Shweta fell forward onto the bed, stretching out alongside me, her legs tangled over Sahil’s. Her ass was wet with cum, shining in the light, and she smelled like the sweat and excitement of everyone who had fucked her. I was exhausted, a little drunk. I could hear someone playing drums down the beach, and the waves began to lull me to sleep. I felt the bed shift as two of our companions left, and I pulled Shweta close to me as our sweat turned cool and the ocean breezes picked up. I found a sheet o up above my head and pulled it over us.
Shweta was already dozing. She faced me and snuggled into my chest. On the other side of her body, I could feel the heat of another man, but I was too tired to care who it was. I fell asleep. My dreams were troubled. They were also about snow; I was walking in it with no shoes and my feet were cold as hell. I kept finding something to cover them with – leaves, or grass, but it would eventually cease to work. Then a moose was drinking in a river next to me, and as I stared at it, the sound of the ocean slowly began to bring lucidity back to my mind.
I opened my eyes. Dawn was just starting to break, the light was blue. A Tiki torch dutifully, and almost miraculously, still whipped next to us in the light breeze, casting a strange light on the white netting of the bed. The sound of the licking moose was still there. I turned, and saw where it came from: my wife was facing me, her mouth open, her eyes closed, her naked body on its side. Her leg was propped up and Sahil’s dark hand was strung over her hip, his fingers embedded in her pussy. Her pussy sloshed as he played with her clit and dipped his fingers in and out.
Shweta moaned and opened her eyes. For a moment she just looked at me, her eyes a little stunned. Her body was rocking slightly, toward me and back, and I dropped my eyes to see that beneath his fingers I could see his balls, and flashes of his long cock as he slowly moved it back and forth in her ass. Sahil lifted his head to look at me over her shoulder. Shweta made another sound as Sahil dove deep inside of her. He reached beneath her head with his free hand and pulled her face toward him, his fingers in her mouth. He darted his tongue around over my wife’s mouth, playing with her eager tongue. All the while he stared at me. I took it as a challenge. I pushed myself over, and mingled my fingers in Shweta’s hair. I turned her head and pressed her mouth to mine. I dug deep into her mouth with my tongue.
This wasn’t so much a kiss as an act of ownership – I made sure she knew that, even as Sahil pushed his cock around in her ass and made her throat vibrate with a moan. I moved my hand down to where his fingers were playing with her soaked pussy, and I brushed them away from her cunt. Sahil relented, and slid his hand under her leg, lifting it up to get me better access. I didn’t hesitate to guide my cock to the opening of her pussy. She was so wet I slid right in, though I could feel how full and stretched she was. The hardness of Sahil’s cock grated against my own, through the wall of her soft pussy.
I still had Shweta’s mouth against mine, and she mewled into my lips. I released her too look at her face as I fucked her with Sahil’s cock inside of her. I heard him breathing heavily, and then I saw his fingers digging into her arm, his lips on her neck, his teeth gritting, and he let out a low yell as he emptied his seed inside of her. I could feel his cock pulsing against mine, and the slow trickle of hot cum squelching from Shweta’s filled backside. It was so filthy.
I met Shweta’s eyes and she stared at me. I think if I had looked only at her eyes, I might have thought she was shocked by herself, that she had gone too far by letting two men fuck her at once in the morning like a whore. But her whole body shook with an orgasm, and her pussy clenched around me and I’m sure her ass did the same around Sahil’s still embedded cock, so there was no way for her to lie about how she really felt.
She loved being a total slut. I grabbed her hair and pressed her lips to mine as I hammered into her. I grabbed her raised leg and pulled it over my hip, and I heard the sound of Sahil’s cock flopping out of her. I fucked her until I came, loudly, filling her with one more load of cum. Shweta was breathless, looking into my eyes, for several minutes. During that time, Sahil must have rolled off the bed and gone down to the beach, but I didn’t notice his departure. It might seem strange that I would have the feelings I did at that moment. That lying there with my wife after she had done so many things outside the boundaries of faithfulness and our marriage, after she had let man after man try to satisfy needs I never knew was inside of her, I would feel the way I did: more in love with her than ever. Shweta, for her part, seemed to be looking for my approval. In her eyes I could see that she was thinking of what she had done, wondering if it would, ultimately, be something that broke our marriage. But we didn’t say anything that morning. I pulled her over to me, and we wrapped what sheets we could find over ourselves, and slept until the early afternoon.

We woke up to the sounds of voices on the beach. We both sat up and pondered the scene, almost with disbelief. Though it was also a relief: all the people who had been around us in the darkness the night before, doing, I imagined, the same kinds of illicit things as us, were now up and acting quite normal. There was a game of frisbee going on in the water, and ladies sunbathing and occasionally complaining when a frisbee buzzed them too closely in their slumber. I noticed that some of the resort staff were already at work changing the sheets on the canopy beds. “This is really a trip,” Shweta said, almost as if she was reading my mind. “I still can’t believe places like this exist.” Then she looked at me. “What do we do now?” I kissed her. “I think we swim, and then we get some breakfast, at this so-called resort. If it exists.” We asked a few people on the beach where to get some breakfast, and it turned out that the so-called resort did in fact exist, just a short walk through the jungle on some wood boards.
The island rose up and dropped off again, and there was a leaking tunnel through the hill, which is why the very normal, stylish hotel had not been visible from our side. Sahil and Junaid were nowhere to be found, but the boat was still anchored out in the bay and I supposed I trusted Sahil not to leave us there, although I had to admit that the prospect was semi-alluring. This was not because I really wanted to indulge in more of what we had done last night, but because I wanted my wife to myself for a while. It was a strange contradiction in sentiments, but it was how I felt. Shweta was so stunning, leaning on the table in the hotel restaurant, a veranda near a stunning pool full of beautiful people who seemed to be getting an early start on another evening like the night before. She had bathed in the water and somehow recovered her swimsuit and sundress. Yesterday’s sun had left a faint pink glow on her round cheeks, under the eye – not a sunburn, but close.
Her hair was salty and windblown. She looked like some kind of surfing goddess, ten years younger, a lot more carefree. We ate in a silence that was in no way uncomfortable. Shweta stroked my leg under the table, and we exchanged a complicit smile every now and then. And then, suddenly, Sahil was there. He smiled down at us, and I was surprised by how relaxed he was able to comport himself, given what had transpired the night before. But I supposed that this was how people on this scene operated. “So,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I need to know what your plans are for the day.” Sahil looked slightly harried. His phone rang and he held up a finger to apologize, he needed to take the call. He answered. Shweta appeared to be watching the pool. “Sorry,” he said, putting the phone away. He squinted into the distance. “At any rate, it’s your choice, if you want we can stay another day, another two days. I have instructions from Wasim Sir to let you stay as long as you like...” Sahil looked pained, even as he smiled.
I looked at Shweta. She had a strange expression on her face. “Let me talk to Shweta,” I said, “And we’ll tell you in… about an hour?” Sahil nodded, and hurried away, taking his phone from his pocket again as he went. I was worried as I leaned across the table and took Shweta’s hand. Maybe this trip had become too much for her. But she surprised me by saying: “I think he has another client, and he can’t take it because of us,” she whispered. Shweta bit her lip. She evidently wanted to say something, but she just didn’t know how. “What is it?” I said. She shrugged. “I’m just wondering what we should do.” I waited while she chewed a little on her lip and thought.
“Well, do you want to stay here?” Shweta looked around at the resort. She smiled. “I think this might be a little too… fast-paced for me.” I was almost relieved to hear her say that. “But I’m not really ready to end our vacation,” she said. I waited. “But I hate to screw Sahil out of a lot of money by going to another… um, less… liberal island.” “Hmm,” I said. At this point, I just wanted some time alone with Shweta. We still had five days left before our flight home, and I didn’t really want to spend them here, or on the boat with Sahil and Junaid. It was Shweta who said it first, though the idea came to me at the same time: “Can you really make that boat sail yourself?” she asked. It was a stretch. A really reckless thing to do. It was a big yacht, an expensive one, and Shweta knew Sahil-all about sailing. It was, however, largely automated. The weather and the seas were calm, the forecast was good for the next month. There was always the motor to fall back on. “Can you learn a few things to help me out?” I said, smiling. Shweta tapped her fingers on her lips and grinned impishly. “I guess I could learn,” she said. I set my hands on the table and looked around. “Okay… I have to find Sahil, and call Wasim, and do a few things, and then… we’ll see.” Sahil, it turned out, did indeed have an extremely lucrative contract in Turks and Caicos, and he was more than happy, if Wasim was okay with it, to turn the boat over to me. Wasim, who had been sent back to India for an operation, must have been hopped up on morphine, because he told me to have a great time with Priya. I spoke to Neha, just to be sure, and she seemed as blasé about whether we tried to sail their 20 crore Rs yacht around by ourselves or not. “You have insurance, good insurance, right?” I said, idiotically. “Mmm… I guess so. Yeah, probably.” This was a really bad idea. “Okay, well… if you’re okay with it,” I said, giving her one more chance to back out. “You know how to sail, right?” Neha said. “Of course.” “Well then. Oh, and Piyush?” “Yeah?” “I’m so glad you had a nice time on Fantasy Island.” There was a smile in her voice. We waved goodbye to Sahil and Junaid as they boarded a float-plane in their miraculously pressed and clean white shirts and navy-blue shorts. They were the pictures of consummate professionalism, small duffel bags slung over their shoulders. “Ready to spend the next four days all alone on a yacht, with just me?” I said, pulling Shweta close to me. Shweta nodded wholeheartedly. She took my hand and we turned around and began to stroll through the very… happening… resort. We were headed for our raft, going back to the boat alone, for our own vacation. “Just don’t turn it into some big marital fight when you teach me how to… do sailing stuff,” Shweta said. I kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry,” I consoled her. “No couple has ever had a fight about sailing in the history of the world.” “I bet not.” “It’s a largely automated boat.” Shweta kissed my hand. “Does this mean you’re sold on the idea of getting a boat, by the way?” Shweta smiled and leaned against my shoulder. “Let’s see how the next four days go,” she said.

THE END

[Givemeextra]

A BIG THANK YOU 

[Givemeextra]

Pls do start another thread with another hotwife adventure....