Misc. Erotica A Hotwife Adventure in the Indian Ocean

[samcuck2]

Chapter 1 Part B

There was a little raft with a motor for getting to beaches, and the four of us fit snugly in it with all of our beach gear. Shweta and Neha were thigh-to-thigh at the bow, and they were quite a lovely sight and fertile ground for my imagination as we motored in to the beach.
The ladies stepped out and we dragged the boat to shore.
Neha was off immediately, and from the way she was welcomed by the handful of people on the shore, in the shade of a tree, she was well-known on this island.
I wondered how well-known.
Shweta waited for me to join her, beach bag clutched to her chest to ward off any potential swingers. Then she took my hand as we walked in the direction Neha had gone. Wasim waved us on; he had a few things to take care of with the raft.
Neha had joined some friends under the shade of some palm trees, and not knowing what else to do, we headed that way.
“Oh, my God,” Shweta said, and she paused in the sand for a moment. It was a fraction of a moment actually, and then she regained her composure and kept walking.
I saw what she was talking about: ahead of us, down the beach, there were several people bathing in the sun and playing a kind of badminton in the water.
Totally naked.
We kept walking.
After all, we were all adults here.
“I’ve heard about these places,”  Shweta said in a low voice, “but I’ve never actually... you know. Seen it.”
“Shweta!”
It was Neha’s voice.
“Shweta, Piyush!”
I had a hard time dragging my eyes from the couple playing badminton in the water. The woman was tan, with a large, exotic build. Her long black hair was wet and snaked along her shoulders and back when it was slapping her as she moved in the water. She had big, pretty breasts that were bouncing as she very competitively dove after the shuttlecock. She glistened with seawater and suntan oil, and if I caught her at the right angle I got a glimpse of her dark bush, neat and clean, between her round, dimple-free golden thighs.
Her partner was very dark man, huge in build with a very large cock that dangled between his legs, flopping in and out of the water as he, too, dove for the shuttle cock.
Shweta squeezed my hand, and we headed toward our friends, who, thankfully, were still clothed, although Neha was doing her best to look unclothed: she was wearing a bikini that almost exactly matched the color of her skin, a slightly almond-colored white, darkened by the sun. From a distance, she looked naked and featureless, like a Barbie doll, which was about what her build amounted to.
“Guys,” she said excitedly, because she said everything in an excited, breathy voice, “these are our friends Kelly and Greg.”
Kelly was an athletically-built, dark-haired beauty in her early thirtees. She even had a stain of red on her lips and dark sunglasses that obscured her eyes, but her nose was petite and upturned and there was no doubt that she was quite pretty behind the sunglasses. She was wearing a very tiny two piece bikni and her athletic body was looking very sexy in the two piece.
She extended a hand and smiled in greeting.
Shweta looked at me, and then took her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said. Her voice was a little strange.
I watched Shweta. She seemed almost... star-struck by her new “swinger” acquaintances. Needless to say, this was the last reaction I had expected her to have. I could tell that she was attracted to them, interested in them. When Shweta gets interested in things, her eyes light up a little from behind and move around quickly, like she can’t possibly get in as much as she wants to before the world ends. She comes across as a little nervous when she does this, but those who know her best know she is actually investigating.
Thinking about her curiosity made my stomach twist a little. I could feel the sensation traveling downward, to my cock.
Greg moved closer to Shweta, and extended his hand. He was a very fit guy, probably in his mid-thirties. His movements and his stance were those of an athlete, and his physique confirmed the diagnosis. His stomach was flat and rippled by muscles, and his biceps neatly defined by the shape of hard work at the gym or in some athletic endeavor. He was dark like coal, and his black hair was bleached by the sun. “I’m Greg. Pleased to meet you,” he said, and his African accent came through, unmistakably.
I saw Shweta’s eyes travel quickly over his body. She put her hand out, and he brought it to his lips. I stared as he placed my wife’s fingers sensually against his mouth and gave her a kiss that was just a little too.. intimate.
The sensation traveled right through Shweta, I could almost feel it.
“Shweta,” she managed to say. She actually stumbled a little over the first syllable of her name.
And the two of them stood there smiling at each other, as if no one else was there. The moment lasted just a bit longer than proper, before Greg extended his hand to me and shook it. He had a firm grip, but not the kind that came from business or politics, where he was out to prove something. Just a guy with a lot of muscled strength in his fingers.
My heart kicked wildly in my chest and I stepped to put my legs a little further apart, because I was actually getting a light erection just being near all these possibilities. I wasn’t even actually allowing myself to think about them.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Neha said, waving a finger at Greg. “These two are just... along for the ride. We promised them we wouldn’t put any pressure on them.”
Greg smiled, and a disbelieving puff of air came from his nose. “That’s fine, mate,” he said, but he was looking at Shweta with a charming, bad-boy kind of gaze. “You might change your mind, though.”
At this point, Kelly and Neha exchanged a look. Then Kelly reached up to her husband with an empty glass in her hand. “Honey,” she said. “Get me another drink, would you.”
Greg took the glass, and looked around at the rest of us for drink orders.
Neha laughed again, and Kelly echoed it, which made me a little uneasy for some reason. Shweta gave me a look that at least let me know she wasn’t in on whatever the ladies were laughing about together in complicity.
Neha picked up a mat and a towel and stepped into the sun. “Oh God, I’m actually like, so tired,” she said. “I’m going to take a nap.” She looked back at us. “A real one.”
Shweta’s jaw dropped a little, but she snapped it back up into a smile very quickly.
Kelly shifted in her chair. “You want a chair in the shade?” she said to Shweta. I stared openly as her eyes ran up and down my wife’s body, sensually lingering on each curve. “You look like you need to stay out of the sun.”
I felt cold. I wasn’t super into girl-on-girl action, but watching Kelly check my wife out like that, so blatantly and right in front of me, was still a thrill.
“I have.. I use... I just put on... a lot of sun... screen,” Shweta stammered.
Kelly’s lips moved in a strange way, and her eyes moved over Shweta one more time. “I see.” She smiled and turned to me. “I suppose you’re going to put it on for her?”
There is no reason I have to, I thought about saying.
But Shweta looked at me desperately. “I’m a little beat,” she said quickly. “I think I’ll... go out in the sun, next to that tree there in case of... too much... sun.” She nudged me. “Come help me get my sunscreen on.”
We trudged through the sand, almost business-like in our quest to reach the tree. “Oh my God,” Shweta said, as she turned and swung her towel out in front of her.
At first I thought she was talking about the interaction with Kelly, but then I noticed she was looking at something. I followed her gaze and saw that Neha was adjusting herself on her towel, stretching out. Nothing peculiar there...
And then I squinted.
She had taken off her skin-colored suit. The only real way to know that was because her breasts, pointed straight at the sky, were topped by the two red-pink dots of her fat nipples, and a big swath of pink aureole below them. She stretched her legs out, and a slightly darker area between her legs indicated that she had also taken off her bottoms.
She looked stunning. Even though her bikinis left very little to the imagination, what there was, that we were now privy to, was incredible.
“Are these people going to gang--_ us on the beach?” Shweta said, in a low whisper.
But when I looked at her face, it was a mixture of pure jest, a little bit of shock, and what seemed like... excitement.
I shrugged. “Do you want them to?” Now, several days ago, even, Shweta would have quickly turned this into a pure joke, by saying something outrageous. Or she would have been so stunned that she would have moved to the far end of the beach to stay away from the possibility.
What she wouldn't have done – and what I didn’t expect her to do – was plop down on her towel and keep looking at the scene on the beach with a shrug.
“Here you are, Shweta, my dear,” a male voice said behind us.
We both looked up to see Greg handing a drink to Shweta, three more grasped in his right hand by sheer force, the tendons on the back of his hand stretched but not straining. He handed a beer to me from his left hand.
Then he winked at Shweta, who became a little flustered. Her chest heaved with a deep breath she took, and her upper lip trembled a little.
Greg gave off a little more charming heat, and left.
I sat down next to Shweta, on my towel which I had tried to lay out nicely but was largely in a heap.
“Maybe,” I said suggestively, “you want Greg to gang--_ you.”
Shweta stirred her drink and brought the straw sensually to her lips. “Hmm, it’s not really a gang--_ unless there’s more than one guy.”
The straw dropped a shiny droplet of gin and tonic onto her lips. She put her thumb into her lips and sucked off some lime that had had gotten on her fingers when she squeezed it.
That wasn’t a “no” to the idea of Greg.
I felt my cock throbbing to life.
I ran a finger along Shweta’s thigh, and I was pleased to see that the back of her neck bristled with goosebumps. The same thick feeling of excitement that had grown between us on the boat was gathering in the air now. I could feel it. I longed to slide my fingers into Shweta’s suit to see if she was feeling it as intensely as I was.
She gave me a look, one that was both inviting and somewhat admonishing at the same time.
We looked out onto the beach. The badminton players were still at it, though they had been joined by a third man. This guy was wearing black swim trunks. The game was getting more tightly-knit; they had moved in toward each other and they were talking much more than playing the game.
I watched and sort of spaced out as I was doing so, tuning out everything else that was happening around me. There was something extremely sensual and sexual about the way the three of them were playing badminton, and it wasn’t just that they were naked.
Eventually, the woman and the naked man moved so close to each other that the badminton shuttlecocks were just a pretense. Quite suddenly, there in the open, the naked man was trailing his fingers over the large breasts of the woman, who was standing casually, with her hand on one hip, letting him do it.
The other man was watching. Just standing there, close to the two of them, and watching.
I became very suddenly aware of where I was, and my eyes flew around the scene on the beach. There were a few couples together on towels. Some of them seemed to have their eyes on what was happening in the water, and some of them did not.
To our right, Wasim and Greg were involved in a discussion that was taking all of their attention away from the water.
I looked back at Shweta, who was transfixed by the scene in the water.
Watching her face, a cocktail of feelings traveled through me. I was surprised – “bowled over” might be a better expression - by Shweta’s reaction. I had hoped to keep Wasim and Neha’s lifestyle a secret (though I could see now how completely preposterous that idea had been). But I had planned for the contingency that it might come out on the trip, and thought of all the ways that Shweta might react.
Except... the way she was actually reacting.
My cock pulsed again.
“So are they...” Shweta murmured, twisting the straw between her fingers sensually and rubbing the top of it along her lower lip. It was one of the most sexual things I’d ever seen in my life, and certainly from Shweta. Her eyes were big, swallowed up by her excited pupils, and her mouth seemed redder and fuller as she dragged the straw over her lips like she was teasing a cock.
“Are they going to just... do it? Right here?” she finished finally.
Her eyes were still on the group, who were moving out of the water, hands all over each other.
The man wearing his swim trunks seemed to be there mostly to watch, but when they reached the beach he slid his swim trunks down and took his cock in his hand. The woman and the man who had been playing badminton were all over each other now.
Shweta cleared her throat when the sensual woman dropped to her knees.
I looked over at my wife. The explicitness of the scene had evidently become too much for her. She was blushing. “I am... eghem. Taking my snorkel and going.. out... way over there,” she said, pointing to the right of the couple and an area of the water that looked safely abandoned.
She grinned at me, like “can you believe this shit?” and slapped my leg. “You come, too,” she said.
Then she fished her snorkel out of her bag, stood up, and practically ran to the edge of the water. I allowed myself a glance back at the scene on the edge of the water.
The woman had gotten on her knees and her badminton partner had his hand in her dark, wet hair. He was cradling her head with his large hand, and her face was pressed close to his pelvis.
“Holy...” I said under my breath.
The boxer-clad guy was now unclothed, and he was standing quite close to the pair.
The woman’s head shifted suddenly, and the boxer-man had his hand in her hair.
I looked away quickly. Shweta was wading into the water.
While the scene of the dark-haired white woman sucking two black cocks on her knees in broad daylight in front of this whole crowd was a sight I could hardly take my eyes off, Shweta’s full bottom blooming from behind her small bikini, a patch of sand on the right cheek, was calling to me.



Also, even for me, this was a little... risque.
I took my snorkel and followed Shweta into the water.
The water was crystal-clear, and the sand beneath it was white. I could see Shweta’s body in vivid detail as she stretched out and floated, then flipped over and began to swim in graceful strokes. She was an avid swimmer, and her arms and legs moved in synchronized motions that hardly splashed. I watched her move away from me, using a somewhat futile breast stroke to try and catch up with her.
At last she slowed, and her legs floated down to the floor of the bay. The water was still no more than four feet deep, even though we were so far out.
She had also, I noticed, moved slightly to the left, in a direction closer to the threesome on the beach.
I kept swimming, enjoying the view of her body in her swimsuit, the streaks of reflected sunlight rippling over her body.
“Wow,” I heard her voice as I neared. “I can’t believe it’s this shallow all the way out here.”
I stood up. She had propped her snorkel on her head. The nose-piece had left a small crease of red on her nose, but other than that, her sea-water clean face was fresh and pretty, a rosy tint in her cheeks. She was smiling, and her hair was clinging to her  cheek and her shoulder, still blonde even though it was wet.
“Isn’t it great?” she said to me.
I pulled her close to me, because the energy driving me earlier on the beach had not worn off. “It is great,” I said.
She wrapped her legs around me and floated easily in my arms, her heels against the small of my back. I knew she could feel my erection against the fabric of her bikini. I slid my fingers under her bikini straps and peeled the top away until just the part covering her nipples remained.
“Piyush,” she breathed, a faint protest, partially encouraging. But she looked past my shoulder toward the beach.
I could feel the heat between her legs against my cock, and she pushed her hips forward to grind against me. I leaned forward and bit the salty fabric of her bikini right where I thought I might find her nipple. I was satisfied as my teeth found a hard pebble, and she sucked in her breath.
Taking the fabric between my teeth, I pulled it down and away from her breast until her pink nipple was exposed. I swirled my tongue over the silky flesh of her areola, lightly on the first pass, and then pressing urgently the second time. Then I sucked her already-hard nipple into my mouth and played with it with my tongue.
He squirmed against me. Again, she said, “Piyush,” in a vague kind of protest. But her body was pushing against mine, and she was not trying to actually stop me as my hands slipped down to her bikini bottoms and slipped under the fabric.
Her skin was rubbery with seawater wetness, all along her inner-most thigh and her outer lips. But when I probed into her inner lips I found the slick, unmistakable wetness of her excited cunt. She was really, really wet. Even though the sea was sucking her juices away quickly, they just kept coming, so her pussy was a slick, slippery, hot anemone.
I shimmied out of my boxers, just enough to free my cock. I was still sucking on her nipple, and I moved my mouth to attend to her other one.
I pushed her bottoms aside with my fingers and guided my cock to her pussy.
She was many degrees hotter than the water around us, and the heat kissed and then enveloped the tip of my cock and made me throb with desire.
She pushed herself onto me, and I felt my cock encased in one thrust in her hot, liquid pussy. She was so lightweight in the water that we were able to fuck almost effortlessly, but the angle of her pussy stroked parts of my cock in a new way, almost like masturbating with the wrong hand.
For a moment we just fucked quietly, the water lapping around our slowly rocking bodies. I was enjoying the immersion, in her, in the water, in the moment, and I pictured her with her eyes closed doing the same as me.
She began, very rapidly, to get a little wild. She started to grind hard against me, and speed up the pace. She placed both hands on my shoulders to get better leverage, and she began to really fuck me.
When I opened my eyes and looked at her face, her mouth was open and her pink mouth panting a little. Beads of seawater or sweat dotted her cheek and her forehead, and her eyes were open wide.
She was looking – staring – over my shoulder.
At the scene on the beach.
I could feel her pussy clenching around my cock, an orgasm rising up inside of her and hardening her insides as it prepared to shake her. Her pussy was incredibly wet, incredibly hot, and she was fucking me with more abandon than I could remember her having in a long time.
I knew that she was watching something on the beach – some debauchery that I would have loved to have seen – but I didn’t dare move to take it in. Staring at her face, at the expression in her eyes and the slackness of her mouth as she rose to the crest of her climax was more erotic for me, anyway.
It was almost like catching her masturbating to some porn, which I often fantasized about, but never imagined she would do. Now, here she was, her pussy tightening up around my cock and her juices gushing into the ocean, all because she was watching some live sex on the beach.
She gasped, and thrust her hips forward. At that moment, her pussy clamped down hard around my cock and she squeezed her eyes shut as if it were too overwhelming for her. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, and for a moment her pussy was so tight, hot and wet around my cock I thought maybe the world had frozen in time.
Then, in pulses, her cunt began to relax.
I don’t know if she kept watching what was happening on the beach, but I liked to think so.
I grasped her hips, and she leaned forward and bit into my shoulder gently as I fucked my cum into her. As I did, I thought about her, leaning onto my shoulder, her teeth biting gently into my flesh, and her mind miles away – or just meters away – thinking of another man.
After I came, we floated in the water, clinging to each other and panting lightly with the exertion. Shweta’s pussy throbbed around my cock, hot and still gushing. Her skin was hot against mine, and the water around us seemed very cold by comparison.
Finally, she leaned back, her arms still hanging on my shoulders. She had a sheepish look on her face but also a little smile.
I turned around, so that she had her back to the beach. The sheepishness of her expression increased as I looked over her shoulder.
“Hmm,” I said. “What were you watching so intently, I wonder?”
I felt her cunt constrict around me, and a faint blush traveled from high on her cheekbone down to her jaw.
On the beach, though it wasn’t extremely clear, I could see the entangled bodies of three figures in the sand. Likely our badminton threesome. Their legs were entwined and they were writhing on the beach like snakes, though I couldn’t see much detail because they were blending into the sand.
My cock, which was still semi-hard inside of Shweta, pulsed with excitement.
I looked at Shweta. Her face was flushed, and her body was still searing hot. She shifted on my cock and sent another tremble of excitement through me.
But her face – the flush of her cheeks, the greedy look in her eyes – is what really made me start to get hard again, as incredible as it seemed.
“What are they doing now?” she whispered, her eyes on mine.
Her cunt pulsed around my cock, and I could feel all the blood rushing back to where it had come from.
“I can’t see very well,” I said.
Shweta leaned to the right, and used her strong swimming stroke to propel me with her legs so that we turned in the water, perpendicular to the beach.
We faced each other, and Shweta had this kind of half-smile on. Then her eyes lowered and swung to the left, sneakily, without turning her head. The smile on her face made my cock pulse inside of her again, and she lifted herself up and re-adjusted her weight on me, driving me even wilder.
“I think they’re... oh my gosh,” she said. She moved her eyes back toward me, but kept them lowered. She brought her fingers to her mouth, almost like she was too ashamed to say anything. “I think she’s... they’re... you know...”
I did not know. I waited, watching her face, and my cock thickened inside of her. I was ready to go again, if only Shweta would watch the trio on the beach and tell me about it while she did.
“What are they doing?” I prompted, and I slowly slid inside of her, in and out. She squirmed in my hands, and her body heat seemed to spike yet again.
She giggled nervously. “They’re like, double-teaming her.”
I knew what this meant, but I had the urge to get her to say something more about it.
“Double-teaming her, how?” I said.
Shweta blushed.
I pushed myself deep inside of her and used my hands to move her hips against my pelvis. Her lips parted as she took obvious pleasure from it.
“One of them in her... you know, up front, and the other in her... ass.”
There was no mistaking that however much trouble she was having talking about it, she had no problem getting off on it. Her pussy oozed with another shot of excitement, and it kissed the length of my cock, hot and creamy.
I really wanted to see the scene on the beach myself, but more than that I wanted to watch Shweta’s face as she watched it. I had never seen her like this before. I had certainly never fucked her underwater – twice in ten minutes – before.
I turned so that Shweta had a view of the beach scene over my shoulder.
She started to lean forward, and I used a hand to push her by the chest so that she leaned back a little and I could see her face.
She took the cue and braced her body against mine with her hands straight against my shoulders.
I watched her face as she looked at the beach scene and I grasped her hips, moving her body along the length of my shaft. Her eyes were so absorbed by the scene that again she almost looked hypnotized, and her mouth hung open sensually. The water lapped at her nipples, and her pussy was still so wet and overflowing that I was sliding through her like butter.
Finally her eyes closed halfway, and her mouth fell open a little more. “Oh God,” she said.
“What are they doing?” I asked her.
But Shweta was too close, too caught up in whatever she was seeing, and, at the end of the day, still a little too reserved to tell me. So I moved her in a half-circle and took in the scene myself as my wife came for a second time:
The woman on the beach was on her hands and knees, and she had a cock in her mouth and another behind her, though whether it was in her pussy or her ass could not be seen from that distance.



What I did get to see, and what made me come at the same time that my wife’s pussy squeezed out her own orgasm, was that after a few moments of this, the man who had his cock in her mouth came, and then the one behind her moved from her ass to her mouth. She turned around to meet him, and she got to work sucking his cock.
The three of them collapsed on the sand.
Shweta leaned forward and placed her lips on my shoulder to muffle a giggle. For a moment we floated in the water like that, Shweta breathing onto my skin, my ears still pounding with the force of so much exertion in succession.
Finally Shweta slipped away from me, and the very cold-feeling water gripped me instead of her warm body. She dropped her feet to the ocean floor and adjusted her bikini. Her face went a little red again.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she said, and her eyes darted back to the beach.
“I can’t believe we just did that twice,” I said.
Shweta gave me a sheepish smile, and then she let herself fall back to floating on her back. She adjusted her bikini top and her long, pretty legs unfolded in the water. I noted with some satisfaction that her bikini bottoms were the tiniest bit stretched out of shape. I admired the way they were a little loose against the curve of her waxed pubic bone, hinting at the shape of her cunt, almost giving me a peek at it.
“Do you think anyone noticed us?” she asked, cringing slightly.
I took her foot and pulled her back to me. She floated by, smiling, and I trailed a hand over the curves of her body as she passed by me. “I don’t know,” I said, with a shrug. “I think the other scene probably attracted more of an audience.”
Shweta’s eyes went back to the beach. “Oh my God,” she said. “Everybody’s disappeared except...” she cleared her throat. “You know. Those guys.”
I looked behind me, and Shweta slapped me in one of those, “don’t-be-so-blatant” slaps. A scan of the beach revealed that Greg, Kelly, Wasim and Neha had, indeed, disappeared. The trio had been reduced to just two, and the woman was sunbathing on a towel as though nothing had happened. The boxer guy had his boxers back on and he was sitting up, looking out into the water with sunglasses on.
He seemed to be looking at us.
“Maybe they just went to go get drinks,” I suggested, and this made Shweta smile.
“Oh man,” she said. “How do we... like, when is it okay to go back there?”
“What do you mean?” I teased.
Shweta blushed again.
“C’mon,” I said, pulling her along by the foot and placing a hand under her to help her float like a goddess in the water. I slid a finger under her bikini top, along the curve of her bottom. “You didn’t seem to be... bothered by it about five minutes ago.”
Shweta kind of snorted. “That’s different,” she said, and her voice was very fun, very endearing. She crinkled up her nose. “I can’t go up there and just walk by some people who are... you know...”
I lifted my shoulders and raised my eyebrows, as though I were ignorant of the whole thing. “Having sex,” Shweta said. She grinned and put her hand to the side of her mouth as she said it, and I really couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or just making a joke at that point.
“Why not?” I said. I was half-joking as well, equally unsure of how much I was teasing and how much I was making a serious suggestion. “It was really hot. Maybe we should try something different.”
Shweta looked very shocked, very suddenly. She drew her feet down to the floor of the ocean again and stood, moving her hands as though she were treading water, in a crouch that brought her chin down below the water. “You aren’t serious.”
I looked behind me. Greg was emerging from the shrubbery, two drinks in hand, and the sensual Neha was next to him, naked, her mouth open in a laugh, her hands on his arm. They looked as much a couple as she and Wasim did.
For a moment a delicious surge of proxy-jealousy tore through me.
“I don’t know,” I said, tipping my head slightly in the direction of the beach. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”
Shweta made a face. She moved her head in a slow shake, “no,” and stared at the scene on the beach. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think all that stuff is like... sexy as a thought, and then... not really that great in real life. Like... they can’t be all that happy in their marriage.”
I let myself sink into the water until I was facing her. “I don’t know,” I said. “They seem okay to me.”
Shweta shook her head slowly again. “No way.”
“Why not?”
Shweta looked at me. “Are you asking me that seriously?”
She was getting a slightly pissed-off tone to her voice, so I decided to back off.
“I mean, I’m not saying it’s for me,” I said, slowly. “I’m just saying... they seem okay with it.”
“Would you be okay with it?” she challenged me.
This was a loaded question.
If I dug deep, the answer to this question was: “it’s complicated.”
The thought of Shweta having sex with another man cut two ways when I thought about it. One cut was very, very pleasant. The other was a smoldering jealousy, a terrifying feeling of risk.
But Shweta was looking at me with a very challenging expression, and I was gathering that she wanted a certain answer. “It’s complicated” was not the right answer.
Not yet, anyway.
“No... God. Of course not,” I said.
My tone sounded convincing to me.
Shweta seemed satisfied by this answer, and her face softened.
She floated again, and I ran my fingers along her legs, my eyes on the rippling, loosened fabric of her bikini bottom and the shape of her mound. My mind on the idea of her lying with her face on the hard, shoreline sand, her eyes staring directly at me, and a big, fat cock that wasn’t mine sawing in and out of her.
“I mean,” she said, after a while and unprompted. “It’s fun to fantasize about, I guess...”
My cock started to twitch to life again, even though I was numb with that fucked-out, pleasantly emptied feeling.
“But it’s kind of like anal sex or something. More fun to think about.”
I lost my smooth composure. I pulled on her leg and jerked her toward me. ‘What?!” I said. “Anal sex, or something? Do you fantasize about anal sex?”
I was pretty sure that in my whole life I had never heard Shweta even say the word “anal.” Not even in the term “anal-retentive,” which she deplored.
“No!” she said quickly, and with such a measure of defense that I knew it was a lie. “Just... you know. I know people do, and then it isn’t... oh, never mind.”
She was really flustered.
I was about to say something to keep the conversation going – not that I was really into anal sex, so much, as I was into the fact that I seemed to be uncovering a secret side to my wife, a new layer of her sexual mind that I had never even suspected existed – but Shweta spoke first.
“So, seriously. How do we get back up there without, um... you know. I don’t want my fingers to get pruny.”
She was smiling again.
My heart was on a bit of a roller-coaster ride. I was seeing exciting sides of my wife, sexualized sides of my wife, and mysterious parts of my wife, as though there were a whole other person inside of her that I hadn’t met yet.
She was looking past me to the beach. “I think they’re, uh... that part’s wrapped up,” she said.
She floated past me, turning onto her back again and looking back at me as she used her arms to propel herself toward the shore.
“Well come on,” she said. “I don’t want to go up there myself.”
And she flipped over on her stomach at that point. A breeze had picked up and the surf was just loud enough to interfere with her voice, so I don’t actually know if I heard this correctly or not. But I think she said:
“Who knows what they’ll do to me?”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, whether I heard or not, set me to thinking. A lot.
About them doing all kinds of things to her.