Misc. Erotica A Hotwife Adventure in the Indian Ocean

[samcuck2]

2: AN IDEA
We wrapped up the day on the beach fairly tamely, to my surprise. Wasim said he couldn’t be boating around drunk and he was taking the raft back to the boat around four, so we sat in the sun on the beach. Around three Shweta moved in toward the group for some shade, so I went with her.
That’s when I got my first glimpse of another guy checking my wife out, intimately, and in front of me.
Shweta set her towel on the sand and leaned back against a pile of beach bags so she could be lying down and still upright to drink an iced tea that Greg had fetched for her.
I was behind my sunglasses, as was Shweta, so no one had any way of knowing what we were looking at. I suppose Greg maybe guessed that I was asleep behind my dark shades – a tactic I made a note to use in the future.
As to how oblivious Shweta was to what she was doing and how Greg was reacting to her, I will never know. Something had piqued her interest, there was no denying that.
Before he retrieved a drink for her, there were several occasions when Shweta ran her fingers under the form of her bikini, as though to adjust it. When she did this, the material lifted from her body, enough for Greg to catch a glimpse of her shaven pussy. And he practically gazed at it.
This was stirring – I didn’t know if Shweta had her eyes closed, or open; if she was doing it with the intention of giving Greg a little glimpse and savoring that she was making him hungry for her, or if she honestly had no idea that he was peeking each time she did it.
Then she spilled a little bit of her drink onto her chest. The cool pink liquid made her suck in her breath, and look down at where the daiquiri had piled on her chest and started to melt. A slow trickle of sweet, sticky pink was snaking between her breasts.
“Shoot,” Shweta said.
Greg was watching the daiquiri as it made its way down her body. The look on his face, though, was that of an unabashed predator. The thoughts he was having about my wife were practically broadcasting from his hungry eyes.
Shweta tried to pull her towel up to wipe it off, but it was under her body and not long enough. “Shoot,” she repeated. “Do you have a napkin or something?”
She said this to both Greg and Neha, but it was Greg who responded, after a thoughtful pause.
“Maybe I could lick it off,” he suggested.
I had to fight hard to keep from jerking my body at his words. I wanted to look like I was asleep, to continue to watch… to see what my wife would do.
Shweta turned her head slightly in my direction. She gave me a sharp look, and then she looked back at Greg and gave him an uncomfortable smile. “I.. no, not.. no, thanks, to that,” she said.
Neha laughed, a low rumble in her throaty warble. “Leave her alone, Greg. There’s a towel right there.”
Greg took the small hand towel Neha was pointing at, never taking his eyes off Shweta and the sticky daiquiri sliding over her chest. He stood up, leaned over her, and wiped it off.
My cock throbbed.
Shweta took the towel from him quickly and said, “thanks, I...”
“Greg, I told you, she’s not in the lifestyle. You’re pushing it,” Neha said, a little more forcefully.
Greg stepped back, still admiring my wife. “That’s awfully sticky stuff,” he said. “You’re going to want to -”
Shweta jumped up. “I think I’ll go get in the water,” she said. “Just to...” She looked at me, and I must have done an excellent job of pretending to be asleep, because she looked away quickly and trotted off.
I fought to keep my breath calm and hopefully keep my cock from alerting everyone to my heightened state of arousal.
“That,” Greg said, watching Shweta as she walked to the beach. “Is a shame.”
Neha sipped her drink. She was using a straw and she was doing it like she was sucking a cock. “Maybe so,” she said, “but you’re going to foul out if you keep acting like that.”
Both of them looked over at me, and I closed my eyes even though I knew they couldn’t see them through the sunglasses. The conversation died away and when I opened my eyes and veered them to the left, I was able to see Shweta in the water.
She began by splashing water on herself at the shore, but when she looked up at the beach and saw the number of men who were watching her lustfully (or at least, I imagined they were), she decided to slowly stroll into the water and sit down in the shallows to relax with her back turned to the beach.
Before long, it was time to head back to the boat, and so we piled into the raft and Wasim motored us back.
Upon boarding the boat, I noticed that Shweta had a bit of a sunburn. I touched her back gently, and left a white thumbprint on her pink skin. “Oh, babe,” I said. “You’re not gonna like this.”
“Shit,” Shweta said. “I forgot to re-apply.” She frowned, looking over her shoulder as though she would see her own sunburned back.
“Help me get some aloe on it, would you?” she said.
This seemed like a purely perfunctory request, until we ducked into the hatchway and down the steps. In the living area she looked back at me, a little impishly. “Why didn’t you offer to lather me up again?” she said.
She pulled her cover-up off as she walked and reached behind her to untie her bikini.
The material slid open and the small pieces of fabric dangled forward, sliding off her arms. She was bared by the time we entered our compartment and I closed the door.
Shweta jumped playfully onto the bed and opened a cupboard to grab a bottle of aloe. The bottle spurted, sounding to my ear like a bottle of lube, as she poured a little onto her palm.
But then she looked back at me. “I think you should do this,” she said. “Make sure you get me everywhere.”
I was fairly unused to my wife acting like this. Maybe there had been a time, long ago in the past and so buried I could scarcely recall it – but I sort of doubted it.
Something was definitely taking a hold of Shweta and activating her libido.
I got onto the bed on my knees and held my hand out. She squirted the gel into my hand, which felt icy-cold and for some reason was very arousing against my palm. Then she turned so that her back was to me.
I swiped it onto her shoulders, and she shivered a little. Goosebumps spread over her upper body, down her spine. I used my free hand to tug on her bikini and see if they had gone all the way to her bottom; they had.
Slowly, I rubbed the aloe in to her skin, and the goosebumps faded away except for at her neck. I kissed her, and slid my hand down to her butt, between her cheeks. It was still wet with aloe as I slid down to her anus and then quickly back up, not wanting to alarm her. While my fingers were there, I noticed that she was already getting wet.
“So,” I said, feeling a little brave. I traced my fingers up and down the length of Shweta’s torso. “I want to hear more about this... anal sex fantasy,” I teased.
Shweta slapped my hand away, but she did it playfully.
“Okay,” I said, when she didn’t offer any anal sex fantasy up. “If not that, then let’s hear more about this watching other people fantasy.”
Shweta put her arm up over her eyes. “That’s not my fantasy,” she said, a note of mystery in her voice. Her mouth was turned into a strange expression, a slightly pained smile. I couldn’t tell if she was smiling in spite of herself, or the other way around.
I lowered my head and crouched a little to kiss her on the stomach. “Are you sure?” I breathed onto her navel. “I feel like I wasn’t the only one who was really turned on today.”
I rubbed my lips over her skin, and I felt her muscles ripple with a ticklish flinch. When I looked up to her face, the smile was taking over her mouth. Her nipples were hard as little stones.
“Maybe you feel just a little bit inclined...” I said.
Shweta lay back on the bed, turning so she was on her back. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I stretched out next to her. I decided to just spill it. Shweta was interested, I could tell.
I pulled on the strings of the bikini bottoms until the whole thing opened up to her bare cunt. I moved my hand down to her soaked pussy. “I’ll tell you the truth,” I said, “if you tell me the truth.”
Shweta’s eyes widened, but she seemed to be giving me consent. Sexy, wild-eyed consent.
“The thing I liked best about today,” I murmured, “was Greg looking at your pussy when you adjusted your bikini.” I smiled. “Did you know that he did that?”
Shweta’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to protest. I put my finger on her lips. “Oh, come on, Shweta. You did it like three times. Are you going to try to tell me you didn’t want him to see?”
A stain of red crept over her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” I said, working my fingers into the soaked folds of her pussy. “I liked it. In fact, I liked it a lot.”
Her eyes went wide again.
I kissed her mouth, and I found her clit with my fingertip. I was scarcely able to believe how wet her pussy was, and that this was the fourth time that day we would be having sex. Her body rippled with pleasure when I stroked the face of her clit.
“I have a fantasy,” I said. “Do you want to know what it is?”
Her lips parted, and she gave me a quick nod.
“Will you tell me what yours if I tell you?”
Again, the same glassy-eyed nod.
I whispered into her ear, making sure to get her lobe wet with my breath and my tongue. “I like to picture you with another man,” I breathed. “I like to fantasize about you letting a man like Greg fuck you while I watch.”
My cock pulsed as I said this, and I felt Shweta’s body ripple with excitement.
She seemed a little stunned by the revelation, and I kissed her mouth again, probing inside with my tongue. “Now you,” I said.
Shweta looked a little stunned. “I...” she said. She rolled over, so that I was spooning her.
“You promised,” I told her, kissing the back of her neck.
“I... I, um... is that really your fantasy?”
I sort of laughed.
“And what would you... what would you want me to do...?” she murmured. A long pause as my whole body went cold-hot with excitement. “With Greg? What would you want me to do?”
I slid my hand down to her pussy again and found her clit. It felt like it actually pulsed in my fingers.
I slid a finger inside of her, and fanned them out to slide one over her slick anus, one into her cunt, and one against her clit. She lifted her leg a little to help me. Her body twisted in excitement.
My cock throbbed against her ass, and I could feel precum gushing from the crown. Not much would have to happen for me to spill all over her, violently.
I used my free hand to push her hair from her neck. “What would you do, Shweta?” I breathed.
I stroked my finger over her puckered anus. “Would you want to let Greg do something to you that you fantasize about?”
She didn’t respond, she just squirmed.
I made a slow circle over her anus, and she gasped. “Would you let Greg put his cock in your ass?” I said. “Would you like that?”
The precum from my cock was dripping on her lower back and her butt now, hot and wet. My cock was aching.
“I... maybe,” she said.
I pushed the tip of my cock against her anus.
“Not… no, not yet,” she said. She pushed her butt back against me and tilted it so that my dick slid down to the soaked hole of her cunt. I hooked a hand under her thigh to lift it, and nudged her torso forward a little to slide my cock into her cunt. Her warm pussy felt so hot, so liquid around me, that I almost came like I was an adolescent again.
I moved slowly in and out of her, and both of us reverted into our own fantasy worlds. I knew she was thinking about her dirtiest thoughts, the ones she couldn’t yet tell me about. And I was thinking of them, too: picturing Shweta’s little butt-hole stretching open as a big, thick cock pushed inside of her and she moaned in pleasure.
We both came at nearly the same time, hard and violently like the times on the beach. So many orgasms had actually made me feel a little weak, a little dizzy. I shuddered my cum into her and let my arm fall over her. Slowly, my cock slipped from her pussy and the hot wet cum from inside of her bathed my dock and my balls.
Then we lay there.
“How much of a fantasy is this?” Shweta said, breaking up the silence very suddenly.
I kissed the back of her neck. “Truth?” I said, nuzzling her. “It’s not just a fantasy.”
Shweta’s body went stiff in my arms for a second. She turned to me. “Really? You’d really like to... you know... share me with someone else? Greg?”
I couldn’t read her tone.
I put my finger on her nose and slid it down the cute little slope. “Why? You wouldn’t like to have sex with a guy like Greg?”
She looked away. “Well, not... no. No, not really.”
My heart soared. Her tone was one she only used when she was lying. She was really, really lying now.
“Why’s that?” I said.
“I don’t understand,” Shweta said, defensively and to avoid the question, “why you would like that kind of thing.”
But the way she said it, looking toward the wall, was not a tone of admonishment. Or even, really, disbelief.
It was the kind of tone you use when you want someone to say something else. To elaborate. The kind of breathy, greedy tone a person uses to get sordid details without actually asking for them.
No problem, Shweta, I thought. I can oblige.
“I think I like the jealousy,” I said. I kissed her shoulder. “I think I like... I don’t know, exactly. The idea that you’re giving a performance for me.”
I wasn’t actually sure what the answer was, myself. I knew I wanted to see her pussy filled with Greg’s cock, I knew I wanted to watch her be defiled. But I couldn’t exactly say why.
She turned so that she was facing me, looking over her shoulder. “Is that it?” she said.
I shrugged.
She turned back to face the wall. I couldn’t get a very good read on what she was thinking.
“Don’t you have some kind of fantasy, say... anal sex... that you have a hard time explaining?”
She stretched her fingers out in front of her. “Yeah but that’s a fantasy. You sound like you actually want to do it. Or... me to do it.”
There was a long pause while my heart raced against her back.
“Look,” I said. “I do want you to do it...”
She waited. “But...?”
“Huh?”
She wriggled around to face me. “It sounded like there was a ‘but’ in there.”
“Well... ‘but,’ I don’t want you to do something you don’t really want to do...”
Shweta looked at me, her eyes scanning my face. “But?”
She was smiling, which was good news for me. “But...” I said. “Well, it seems like maybe you’re not as opposed to it as... you want me to think.”
She turned to face the wall again. She let out kind of a “harrumph” as she did.
“And what makes you think that?” she said, after a while.
For a second, I thought she was mad, and I racked my brain for the best answer to her question, the one that was going to defuse the situation. I didn’t feel like ruining all the fun we’d had with a fight, nor did I feel like endangering my boat plans by pissing Shweta off.
Don’t get me wrong: I loved the idea of Shweta being into this.
You just get to a certain age and you’re able to calculate chance a lot better. I figured I had about a 1% chance of Shweta agreeing to fuck some other guy, and an 85% chance of convincing her to get this boat as long as she didn’t sour on the whole thing because we had some stupid fight.
I was gathering her up in my arms, ready to kiss the back of her neck and soothe her, when I realized that she was kind of giggling.
“And what makes you think that?” had been a joke. A joke, because she knew that she was turned on by it. She was admitting it.
Wow.
My heart started to race, and against all odds, I could feel my cock getting hard again.
“Anyway,” she said, kissing my hand. “I don’t think I’d actually go through with -”
She cut herself off when she felt my cock throb against her bottom.
Turning slightly to face me, she widened her eyes in amazement.
“Wow,” she said. “You really do like that idea.”
We didn’t finish that conversation, because we were too occupied with other things.