by Lexi Archer
My cock had gone down. Apparently thinking about the potential exploitation of the Caribbean islands was finally enough to pull my attention away from my wife for a moment. Only it went right back to Whitney, gorgeous Whitney, as one of the attendants came up to her.
“Can I help you ma’am?” he asked.
Whitney’s mouth fell open and she pulled her sunglasses down so I could clearly see her looking this guy up and down. I had to admit that even I was a little impressed. He was tall with dark chocolate skin and long hair tied up in a pony tail that fell down past his shoulders. His voice was a deep bass rumble that seemed deeper than I thought was possible for a man’s voice to get. He had a slight accent, just like everybody on the island, but he spoke perfect English for all that. Broad shoulders, and God his chest was muscular. His abs were a perfect six pack. It made me look down at my own stomach. I worked out at the strip mall dojo down the street a couple of nights a week. I figured why not learn to kick some ass while you’re getting in shape? I thought I was in good shape until I saw this guy. He was like a model straight out of the pages of some underwear advertisement or something!
And it looked like Whitney had noticed. Her breathing was picking up and I could see her chest rising and falling as she gasped and took in the sight. It was hot under the blazing equatorial sun, but I could clearly see her nipples straining out under the thin white material of her bikini top. I enjoyed the sight of seeing her get excited, but I had to admit I was disappointed that the sight getting her so excited wasn’t me. Especially considering we were on our fucking honeymoon!
I felt a stab of jealousy that had nothing to do with the jealousy I felt when I saw guys looking at her as they walked past on the beach. No, this was straight up jealousy that she was looking at another man like that, reacting to another man like that, when we were newlyweds and we were supposed to be back in the cabana banging our brains out while she looked at me like she was looking at him!
Only I didn’t say anything. I stayed quiet. I wanted to watch, wanted to see what Whitney did. Because I noticed something else. I noticed him noticing my wife.
He was open and brazen in the way he was checking her out. I saw his eyes go from her face down to her tits and his eyes lingered over those magnificent globes. I almost thought he was about to lick his lips as he saw her nipples pressing out. His eyes moved down past her perfect flat stomach, oiled and slick and oh so bright in the sun, and then down to that delicious fold in between her legs. There was moisture on her bikini bottoms where sweat mixed with the oil, but I also thought I saw a hint of wetness down between her legs where no oil had gotten earlier despite my best efforts to reach between her legs. She was getting wet looking at this guy!
His eyes continued down to her legs and then he turned back to her with a calm, cocky, confident smile. It was the kind of smile that said he saw gorgeous women like this every day, and he just took it as a matter of course that she would get excited looking at him.
It made me wonder what it would be like to go through life like that. It must be a little bit how Whitney felt having guys constantly staring at her and lusting after her. It was a feeling that I definitely didn’t know. I realized that I was a six or a seven that had somehow managed to bag a girl who went all the way to 11, and I’d long ago made peace with that. Only now that I saw this guy checking her out that fragile internal peace was being shattered in a way that it hadn’t in quite some time.
Whitney held up her glass, a giant monstrosity that had been filled with a frozen daiquiri just a half hour ago that she’d managed to somehow down in that half hour. I wondered how many of those she’d had today. I hadn’t been paying attention, and it seemed like she’d kept them coming.
“Can I get another frozen strawberry daiquiri please?” she asked.
I blinked at the sound of her voice. It sounded so different from how she normally did. It was deep, husky, flirty. Like she was turned on. I’d heard her talk to me like that a couple of times when I managed to get her really worked up after paying really good attention to her in the bedroom, but I’d never heard her sound like that just from looking at a guy. I felt that jealous fire rising inside me as I looked at the two of them staring at each other. I felt a fire down between my legs where my cock was throbbing as I watched the two of them carrying on with one another. Those two fires seemed to be raging in counterpoint to one another. At odds with one another yet fueled by each other at the same time.
“Of course ma’am,” he said.
I thought that would be the end of it. I thought he’d go up to get the drink and that would be that, but she held up a hand to stop him. Her delicate fingers rested on his massive muscles and he paused. He looked down at her and I saw a fire burning in his eyes. I could only imagine the fire that was raging in his body where her petite hands made contact with his dark skin.
“I haven’t seen you around here this morning,” Whitney said, her voice still deep and throaty. “What’s your name?”
“Claude, ma’am,” he said with a smile.
She smiled back at him. “I’m Whitney and this is my husband Mike. Very nice to meet you Claude,” she said. She looked him up and down again and I felt another stab of jealousy. “Very nice indeed.”
Okay, so I was enjoying the show but I figured it was time to step in. Time to do something about this.
“Okay honey,” I said. “Why don’t you let the man do his job? We don’t want to get him in trouble or anything.”
He looked over to me as though noticing me for the first time. He looked me up and down with an appraising look similar to how he’d looked at my wife, only there was no heat behind that appraisal. Only amusement. He smiled at me and chuckled as though he knew exactly what I was doing. I’m sure a guy who looked like that who spent enough time on this ridiculously expensive beach serving the kind of people who could afford staying at this resort got this sort of thing from jealous boyfriends or husbands all the time. He favored Whitney with one more dazzling smile and then he was moving up the beach.
Whitney turned and frowned at me as soon as he was gone. Her sunglasses were back up hiding her eyes.
“You didn’t have to be an asshole to him,” Whitney said.
“What?” I said.
The sunglasses came down and she was staring daggers at me. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing. Honestly. We just got married! What kind of girl do you think I am?”
I opened my mouth to say something but decided against it. Obviously she was the kind of girl who flirted with random guys on a beach while her newlywed husband was sitting right next to her, but something told me that wasn’t the right thing to say.
Besides, I still had my hard on to contend with. I still had the confusing fact that I was turned on by watching that little interaction between the two of them even as I was terrified by it. I wasn’t sure what the hell I thought, and so I figured I definitely shouldn’t be opening my mouth and acting all indignant when I might be more horny than pissed off about the whole thing.
Right now though, now that he wasn’t right in front of us checking out my wife, now that I wasn’t in the moment with horniness overriding my rational mind, that rational mind was starting to take over again. That rational mind was wondering what the hell my horny mind was thinking watching my wife carry on like that with another guy.
I glanced up to the bar where servers were coming and going. Nothing said that my wife had to be here when he returned. If she wasn’t around he’d just drop her drink off at our table, go back to his work, and Whitney would forget about him. I’d add this little encounter to the spank bank and I wouldn’t have to worry about him hitting on my wife any longer.
Yeah, that sounded like a great idea.
I reached out and took Whitney’s hand. “You know we’ve been hanging out on the beach all day and we haven’t even gone in the water yet. Why don’t we go for a swim?”
The sunglasses came down again and she stared. “Are yo
u serious? I’m trying to work on my tan here.”
“And you won’t be in the sun if we’re out in the water? Besides, you can’t come to a beautiful beach like this and not go for a swim!”
The words rang hollow even as I said them, but it looked like she might be falling for this without realizing what my ulterior motive was. That conflict was still there despite the best efforts of the rational side of my brain. That arousal I felt as I thought of her carrying on with that guy was still mixing with fear that clenched at my heart. Perhaps it was that fear that was making it such a turn on.
Whatever. I was already committed to getting her the hell away from that guy. I could worry about why thinking of my wife with another man was turning me on later. Right now I needed to get her away from him. I needed to get me away from the possibility of them together because that possibility was filling my mind with thoughts that could quickly lead to a very dangerous place.
Whitney glanced over her shoulder towards the bar, though I imagine she was looking over there for entirely different reasons than I was. I felt another stab of jealousy, another stab of arousal, another stab of fear, as she looked. He was up there and it was obvious she was trying to find him. Probably wondering when he was coming back. In my mind she was trying to get one last look at him, too check him out one last time, before her pale and not as in shape as he once thought husband pulled her into the ocean.
That last thought had to be part of this weird fantasy invading my mind though. We were in love, we were newly married, and nothing was going to come between us no matter what naughty thoughts were running on repeat through my head.
Whitney turned back to me and smiled. God she looked amazing. She looked gorgeous every time she smiled, and the smile she was hitting me with now was just as bright as anything she’d given that muscle bound server.
“Fine honey,” she said. “We can have some fun in the water.”
3: Premature Fun
The water was surprisingly warm. I was used to getting into the Great Lakes where it seemed like it was a uniform forty degrees even in the middle of the summer despite all the tourist brochures swearing it was just the same as visiting the ocean.
Now that I was stepping into the Caribbean Sea it definitely was absolutely nothing like stepping into the Great Lakes. The water was clear close to the shore and turned to a bright blue farther out. Nothing like the uniform gray of Lake Michigan. The beach underneath was white sand that was a fine grain, absolutely nothing like the mud and pebbles I could expect up in Michigan.
There weren't many people out in the water. Most of the people at this resort had the same idea as Whitney. Most of them were either women interested in working on their tan or men who were interested in watching their women working on their tan. There wasn't a lot of in between. There definitely weren't a lot of kids splashing around in the water. This was a resort that had a substantial dollar amount attached to it, and it catered more to the wealthy crowd who was interested in seeing, being seen, and drinking while they were at it.
Not that we were exactly part of that crowd ourselves. We just had the advantage of Whitney's dad being completely loaded and willing to blow the equivalent of a year's rent at our apartment on our honeymoon. Not that I was complaining, mind you. It was definitely interesting seeing how the other half lived for a change.
Of course not having many people in the water also meant we had that water all to ourselves. I swam out a little ways, far enough out that I thought we were getting into the blue part of the water instead of the clear area. At least as seen from the beach. If I was going to be out here swimming with my new wife I didn't plan on doing a lot of swimming with my new wife, if you catch my meaning.
Hey, what can I say? I was still very much thinking with the brain down below. Particularly now that my sex drive was going into overdrive thanks to that display she just put on with our server.
It really did feel like I was wading through bathwater with sparkling white sand underneath. I wrapped my arms around Whitney. Pressed my cock against her ass which felt so exquisite in her white swimsuit. I moved my hand along her stomach and I felt her sigh and push herself back into me. I smiled. Now that was definitely new. That was definitely different. It was definitely one hell of an improvement over the coy games she'd been playing since I put a ring on her finger two days ago.
I pressed my cock against her again and she sighed and let out a quiet moan. I leaned down and started kissing along her neck, nibbled at her ear, and I was gratified to feel her breathing picking up.
I moved a hand up to her tits and her nipples were straining out towards me. Now there was a pleasant surprise on a bit of familiar territory I hadn’t been able to explore in awhile. They felt rock hard. Only apparently that was one step too far. My wife's sense of propriety reasserted control and a hand moved up and pushed me away from her with a glance towards the shore. No doubt worrying that people would see us, though I didn’t care. I let out a sigh of my own, though it was a sigh of disappointment rather than a sigh of pleasure. Still, she was letting me continued to grind my cock against her amazing ass so that was something.
I guess I would have to content myself with that grinding. Whitney leaned her head back and I continued kissing. Her mouth turned to mine and then she was devouring me with a hunger that surprised me. With a hunger that was a stark contrast to the reserve she’d shown on the honeymoon so far. I was wondering who this woman was and what she’d done with my wife when it hit me.
This was still my wife. This was still my gorgeous Whitney. Only this was Whitney after that impromptu flirting session with Claude the waiter. I suddenly wondered how much of this impromptu make out session was owed to Whitney being turned on by being in the water with her husband and feeling my cock pressing against her, and how much of it was owed to her being turned on by flirting with our muscular waiter.
I also wondered if I even cared if the end result was that she was taking that sexual energy and pouring it into an encounter with me. Why was I complaining if she was grinding her ass against me and sighing and moaning like a teenager discovering sex for the first time? And as those thoughts ran through my head a little bit of that jealousy resurfaced even as a lot of the arousal I was feeling from watching my wife flirting returned. I’d come out here into the water to get away from him, to get away from that ridiculously compelling fantasy, to get some time alone with my wife, but it seemed this fantasy was going to follow me wherever the hell I went whether I liked it or not.
And to be perfectly honest I wasn't sure that I didn't like it.
Whitney pulled away from me and I wanted to cry out in frustration. I loved the feeling of her ass grinding against me. Sure I'd felt it before, but there was something about knowing that I was so close to the goal, so close to finally getting in her pants, that made it so much hotter. I’d even been wondering if she was going to let me just fuck her right here in the middle of the ocean in front of all those people on the beach completely oblivious to what was happening.
I didn't stay disappointed for too long. No sooner had she pulled away from me then she was flipping around, wrapping her legs around me, and then I had the distinct and delightful feeling of my wife's pussy pressing against my cock. She smiled at me, her eyes locked on my own, and her mouth was open as she let out small quiet gasps. I was so damned turned on. I couldn't believe this!
Of course the moment was ruined just a little when she glanced up towards the beach to the bar. That left absolutely no doubt in my mind as to exactly what was running through her head as she pressed her pussy against my cock. And I didn't even care. This felt so amazing, so fucking hot, and if the thought of her flirting with another guy was turning me on then I figured why shouldn’t it turn her on? Why fight it? It was just a fantasy after all. As long as it stayed a fantasy, as long it stayed between my ears and between her ears, what was the harm in it?
"You're so fucking beautiful Whitney," I said.
"I'm so turned
on," Whitney gasped.
I pressed my cock against her and I could feel the outline of her pussy lips. I imagined what it would feel like with nothing between us. To feel my cockhead pressing in between those gorgeous lips after waiting for so long. To feel my cock sliding inside her wet warmth again. And then suddenly, unbidden, the thought of that server doing the same thing, pressing her down with his massive arms as he shoved his massive cock inside her, slipped into my head.
I reached down and tightened my grip on her ass as I started pressing against her in earnest. The thought was uncontrollable. I was imagining him looking down at my wife on the beach, putting myself into his head and thinking the sort of thoughts he must have been thinking as he stared at her. Then I was imagining him sneaking into the rich white girl’s cabana while her husband was off somewhere else, lying her down on the bed and pressing into her body before even I got a chance to. Fucking her and making her tits bounce in ways that I hadn’t even had a chance to since we got married!
"I think we should go back to our room," Whitney said.
The way she said it was so quiet, barely audible with the way she was gasping and moaning as I pressed my cock against her, that her words didn't register. Not until it was too late, at least.
I looked up at her. "Are you serious? You’re…"
Whitney bit her lip and nodded her head and I was gone. It was too much. I'd been too worked up. Watching her with that guy was too much for me. Watching all those guys on the beach checking her out was too much for me. The feeling of her body pressed against me, of her pussy grinding against me, the look on her face as she bit her lip and told me we needed to go back to the cabana and I’d finally get what I'd been waiting for was too much for me.
