by Ben Boswell
“Okay, so no volleyball,” Brad said, “we don’t want to end up in a brawl.”
“We could, you know, just enjoy the beach and not make spectacles of ourselves,” I suggested.
“But where is the fun in that?” Claire replied.
“You know what I think is funny?” Lena asked.
“Do tell,” Marie replied.
“I always used to think you guys were old, boring fuddy-duddies, but it turns you’re a bunch of kinky horndogs.”
“Apropos of that,” Brad said, “I want to hear about my wife lezzing out for a guy.”
Claire chuckled. “Well, you could as easily ask Marie.”
“Claiiire,” my wife groaned as she turned a deep shade of red.
Claire smirked. “Oh come on Ducky, after last night, no one is going to buy your Miss Innocent routine.”
“She’s right,” I piled on.
“Oh, leave Marie alone,” C.J. interjected.
Lena guffawed.
“What?” Marie asked.
Lena continued to chuckle. “Sis, he’s white knighting you because he wants to continue getting into your pants.” She turned toward C.J., “Isn’t that right?”
He shrugged noncommittally.
“As if he needed to do that,” Claire snarked.
“They’re just jealous,” Marie said to C.J.
Lena faked gagging. “Enough with the deflection. Unless, I misheard, I think Claire was about to tell us about the time she and Marie hooked up.”
“Oh God,” Marie exclaimed. “We didn’t hook up. We were in college for fuck’s sake at some stupid house party, and there was this cute guy and we kissed a few times.”
“Tongue, lots of tongue,” Claire amplified. “And then Marie sucked on my tit.”
“You shoved it in my face.”
“And you just suck anything in front of you?” I asked.
“I think last night pretty much confirmed that, didn’t it?” said Lena.
“Oh, you should talk,” Marie said. “At least I didn’t get suspended for sucking a dick in a janitor’s closet when I was fifteen.”
“Girls, girls, girls,” Brad intoned, spreading out his hands. “No need for all this squabbling. I’m sure we can agree that all three of you are dirty little whores.”
We all stared at him in shock.
“What?” he asked. “It’s true.”
“You’re an idiot,” Claire said simply. “Come on,” she said to the other women, “Let’s go for a walk.”
As they rose, I called out after them. “He doesn’t speak for me!”
“Put a sock in it, Bubby,” my wife replied, though her tone seemed amused. At least I hoped it was.
Once the women were out of earshot, C.J. chuckled. “Smooth, real smooth. Alright, well, I’m going back to the house to take a nap.” He rose and started across the sand.
“I guess he didn’t get much sleep last night,” Brad said.
“Neither did I,” I replied pointedly, immediately regretting it. It wasn’t that Brad seemed hurt. Quite the contrary, he suddenly got an eager look in his eye.
“Was… was she good?” he asked.
Again, my lack of experience left me taken aback. What is the proper response? Casual and understated: Yeah, man, she was okay. Gentlemanly: I had a lovely evening, and if you’d like more detail, I’d ask that you speak to her. Forthcoming: She was so kinky and exciting, a wonderful lover. Crude: She’s a great cocksucker and her ass is so fucking tight.
“Dude, I don’t know how to answer that.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know! God, I don’t know how to feel.”
“You’re still excited about the whole thing? I mean, I feel bad about it. I… I don’t want this to be like a thing between us.”
He laughed again. “No way, man. I mean, what’s the big deal right? So you dropped a couple of loads in my wife’s mouth and fucked her up the ass. Why would you think that’d be an issue?”
I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re so nonchalant…. Seriously though—”
“Dude, seriously? I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but every time I think about it… I mean like any of it… it makes me rock hard.”
“Easy Tiger,” I said with a laugh, but also, I didn’t really want to be sitting there with him chit-chatting if he was going to pop wood.
“You think that makes me, like, a homo or something? Not that’s there’s anything wrong with that, but I’m definitely confused.”
“What do you mean? Like literally or like a wimp or something.”
“I mean, like literally. I read up on this on the Internet.”
“Uh oh.”
He explained: “Who the hell knows what to believe. You have these guys there who are all charged up on it and see it as, you know, it just turns me on that other guys find my woman desirable. Which explains why you might want to get her dressed up and let other guys ogle her—”
“But actual sex would seem unnecessary to that,” I noted.
“Exactly. So maybe it’s like, I’m secretly gay, and, you know, living vicariously through her. She’s getting fucked—”
“Except, so far, I’m the only guy she’s been with, so unless you have a secret crush on me.” I held my breath, not out of homophobia, but just out of the realization it would make things uncomfortable if that were true… well, okay, and maybe a little homophobia in the mix.
Happily, he laughed it off. “No, I guess not. It’s more, I don’t know, I find it hot that she’s so wicked and sexual. Jesus, last night she spied on me with another woman while taking a dick in her ass.”
I nodded. It was my dick, so he didn’t have to tell me.
“I didn’t know I’d married a woman like that. I mean, we’ve played little games and fantasized and stuff, but I always thought she was just humoring me. I didn’t realize she was for real.”
“And now that you realize she is?”
He groaned. “I wish you’d come inside her. That’s all I could think about. How much I’d love to fuck her freshly creamed pussy.”
I shook my head in disbelief. Brad was taking to this like a duck to water.
“How about you?” he asked.
And that was the million-dollar question.
“I don’t know. I guess I can’t be that broken up about it since--”
“You banged Claire.”
“Um… right. I do feel manipulated. But whenever I start thinking about it, Claire and Lena show up to rub their titties in my face.”
“Oh God, you have no idea how right we were about Lena. She’s unbelievable.”
“We saw,” I reminded him.
“You think Marie’s really going to let you bang her little sister?” he asked.
I saw right through him. “What you really mean, is am I going to let you fuck Marie?”
“Dude, I….”
“It’s okay,” I began. I wasn’t quite sure what to say next.
I thought of him ramming his huge cock inside her. She could barely seem to get enough of C.J. What would being with Brad do to her? Lena would surely show me a good time, but I was worried that Brad would ruin Marie forever. And then I took stock of myself, of my racing heart and sweaty palms, and I realized the idea excited me. The idea that my wife might be a bit of size queen left me both queasy and aroused.
“I’ve always had a crush on Marie,” Brad admitted.
“Yeah?”
“God, she’s so cute, and her ass….”
He stopped and looked at me anxiously.
“Don’t worry, I’ve fantasized about titty-fucking Claire more than once.”
He laughed. “We should have swapped years ago.”
“What are you two giggling about?” Claire asked.
The girls had returned.
“You’re back,” I noted.
“Making plans for tonight?” Marie asked, giving Brad a meaningful glance.
“Should we be?” he asked.
“As a
matter of fact, no,” replied Claire.
“Huh?” I said.
Marie smiled, “Well, Bubby, we were talking about it, and we think we showed you boys a pretty good time last night.”
“And what did we get for it?” Claire asked. “Flowers? Breakfast in bed? Even an offer to cook dinner tonight?”
“I’ve gotten more out of Tinder hookups,” Lena noted.
“Um, what do you want?” Brad asked.
“Too late,” Claire replied. “We’re going to do a girls’ night out.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
My wife smirked. “It means we’re going to get dolled up, hit Dewey and see if we can’t find some guys who won’t take us quite so much for granted.”
I rolled my eyes at the obviousness of it. Marie squatted down in front of me, her legs apart and trailed a hand down over the front of her bikini bottom. I flashed back to the sight of C.J.’s hand on her belly, his fingers rubbing her clit as his fat cock pounded into her from behind.
“You think we’re bluffing, Bubby? After the last couple of nights, you really think that?”
My mouth was suddenly dry.
“Um, no.”
She traced the line of her slit with her fingertip. Then she rose gracefully. “You boys are welcome to join us.”
“But don’t get in our way,” Claire warned.
“What’s that mean?” Brad asked.
Lena laughed. “Don’t clam jam us.”
“Clam jam?” I repeated, getting the meaning, but still amused at the term.
The girls giggled.
“See you boys later,” Claire chimed.
They began walking back to the house. I turned to watch their three lovely butts swiveling as they crossed the hot sand. I looked over at Brad, who was staring after them open-mouthed.
I said, “Do you think they really would --”
“Fuck some strangers?” he completed my question, his tone excited.
“You’d really want Claire to meet some guy in a bar and….”
His expression grew eager, and I deliberately avoided peering at his crotch, suspecting that he was sporting some serious wood.
“You’re crazy,” I said.
“Is it my fault the reality of it is even hotter than the fantasy?”
I didn’t answer. We both stared out at the sea for a few minutes.
He broke the silence. “Mind if I take the cooler back to the house?”
“Um, no, sure,” I replied.
He rose and using the cooler as a shield for his crotch, he followed after the girls. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I knew he was somewhat conflicted, but for him the excitement of the situation seemed to far outweigh the anxiety. I was much less certain.
I remained out on the sand for a little longer. The elderly couple had left, and the husband from the family beside us was packing up the three kids and walking them back home. Soon, it was just me and the plump wife who’d scolded us earlier.
I glanced over at her. She wasn’t that bad actually. Nice titties. A bit wide in the seat, maybe, but there were plenty of guys who’d prefer that to a skinny chick. In truth, she was probably more in my league than were Claire, Lena, or my wife, all of whom were bona fide hotties.
It was that nagging insecurity that kept me from fully throwing myself into the situation. C.J. had it easy. No risk, just fun. What did he care about the women’s machinations? And anyway, he was a handsome fuck. And Brad… despite that hangdog, pussy whipped facade, he was packing, what, ten inches of cock? Surely, he could get all hot and bothered thinking about his wife enjoying strange dick without once having to worry she’d get a taste of something he couldn’t match and top.
Meanwhile, there I was. I’d always had this vague sense that I’d punched above my weight in getting Marie, what with her blond hair and pretty face and killer athletic body. And I was bald and a bit soft even if I could lift heavy objects. Intellectually, I knew that women worship neither a big cock nor a healthy deadlift, but I couldn’t stop worrying about the fact that our new… lifestyle, experiment, whatever… invited competition that I might not win.
Did I really want my wife to screw her sexy, old boyfriend? Well, that fucking milk was already spilt, but did I need her riding Brad’s huge prick as well? How much temptation could she take before she, you know, realized that the grass was actually greener?
On the other hand…. I had put my dick in Claire’s ass. True, most of my fantasies had involved her tits, but shit… what the fuck? And tonight, if I played my cards right, and by that I knew that meant being a good sport and playing along, there seemed a decent chance I’d be balls deep in Lena before the night was over. Lena… I fantasized about her for years, from a time when she was, as they say, barely legal.
I don’t think I could ever be like Brad. The idea of Marie fucking other dudes was not particularly a turn on… except that what might come of it was too delicious to resist.
I peered back over at the plump wife. She was relaxing, eyes closed, enjoying the late afternoon sun and the sound of crashing waves. A moment of peace before returning to a house-full of kids. I wondered whether Claire and Marie, both of whom had caught the baby frenzy from Brenda, were perhaps nonetheless preemptively mourning their lost freedom.
In the meantime, while I was pondering the meaning of life, Marie, Claire, Lena, C.J., and Brad were back in the house, half-drunk and greased up with sunscreen. My mind conjured up a lurid orgy scene that quickly brought me to my feet. I rushed back across the sand. Was I going to stop it or to partake? Yes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I walked into the house expecting to see a scene out of Caligula, but to my surprise -- Relief? Disappointment? -- things were quiet, with everyone apparently scattered into their separate bedroom. That didn’t completely settle my thoughts. As I approached our room, I half expected to hear moans of pleasure before walking in on my wife and C.J. continuing their reunion. But again, to my, whatever, that wasn’t the case. Instead, just as I walked in, Marie was coming out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wrapped in a towel, another towel wrapped around her wet hair like a turban.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey yourself.”
There was a palpable tension in the air. I don’t think I’d ever felt quite so awkward with my wife.
“Are we okay?” I asked.
She smirked and dropped the towel from her naked body. She was so hot, with her flat stomach, perky breasts, and sexy tan lines. She’d touched up her landing strip, and I knew that meant her slit was smoothly shaved. Was that for me? Or for C.J.? Or Brad? Or some random guy she hoped to meet at some bar?
“You tell me, Bubby.”
She turned and bent over to reach into the bottom drawer, waving her perfect ass in my face, giving me a glimpse of her pussy from behind. Was she teasing me? Tempting me? Or maybe just casually ignoring me? She fished out a pair of skimpy, white panties and pulled them on with a sensuous swivel of her hips.
“I am not sure what’s going on.”
“I think we’re all just having a little fun.”
“How far does this go?”
She shrugged. “Isn’t part of the fun not knowing?”
She unwrapped the towel on her head and began to blow dry her hair, giving me a few minutes to think of an answer. With her hair dried and brushed out she turned once again to face me.
“It depends on motivations,” I replied.
“What was your motivation for sleeping with Claire?”
“You went first.”
“Yes, but that was a mistake. Anyway, that’s my point. Did you just sleep with her to get revenge?”
That left me a little speechless. As I pondered it, she sorted through a selection of bras before deciding to wear none. Instead, she pulled on a tight, sheer, pink tank top that seemed almost designed to show off her nipples.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said finally.
“Yes, you do,” she replied. “Y
ou’ve always had the hots for Claire.”
“But I never—”
“And Lena. Hoo boy, do you have any idea how many time I’ve caught you staring at her ass?”
I chuckled. “Actually, I’m usually staring at her tits.”
She tilted her head and smirked. “Okay. Same difference.”
I laughed. “Marie, you’re talking in fucking riddles.”
“So are you.”
I shook my head. “Okay, so… let me see if I understand this. You were jealous that I’ve fantasized about your friend and sister, and to get revenge—”
“Revenge has nothing to do with it.”
“Okay, so… your hooking up with C.J. was a gift to me because it allowed me—”
“You’re overthinking things, Bubby. I’ve never had a scheme. I think I’m the one person in this whole house who doesn’t.”
I laughed again. “Believe me, Honey, I don’t have a scheme. I don’t even know what we’re talking about right now. I am clueless.”
“How upset are you about what happened with C.J.?” she asked.
I paused to think it over. “At one level, very. I mean, it was completely out of the blue, and I don’t know how it happened or whether it’ll happen again.” I paused again as I tried to verbalize my feeling. “At another, it just seems unreal. Some sort of parallel universe, you know? And in that universe, I’m less upset and more… jealous.”
She approached me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her nips. I knew if she went out like that, no other man would be able to either. And I also knew that was the point.
“How about excited?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Now that is an interesting answer,” she said. Then after a moment: “Brad is excited.”
“Brad’s crazy,” I replied. “So are Claire and Lena for that matter.”
“But I’m not?”
“I don’t know.”
She chuckled, backed away from me and dug around in her dresser again. She squeezed herself into a pair of tight, white shorts. Not quite Daisy Dukes in that her cheeks didn’t hang out, but in that ballpark. Between those and her braless top, she was clearly sending out a vibe that she was DTF. I wondered if she really was.
“You look like you want to say something,” she noted.
