3 comments/ 25680 views/ 7 favorites Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 01 By: ickric Chapter 1 "Make love to me," Beth instructed Allan as his tongue expertly explored her most personal parts. She always loved Allan's cunnilingus and he had special ways of arousing her. He'd earlier aroused her by a slow gentle massage with some aromatherapy oils of Clary Sage and Ylang Ylang and some music on in the back ground. Allan crawled up her body and leaned forward, kissing her gently. Beth responded, her tongue searching for his, tasting her own juices on his tongue as they kissed. She needed his cock and she reached down between their bodies, her hand in search of his healthy seven and a half inches, guiding it into her warm, wet and welcoming pussy, sighing deeply as Allan entered her. They both groaned as the mutual pleasure raised their pulse rates, their heart beats racing faster than Jenson Button. Allan smiled to himself as the simile brought images of formula one racing cars and he wondered if he'd discovered a new meaning for pole position! Beth, blissfully unaware of Allan's mental visions, was getting off on his pole inside her as his thrusting movements became more accentuated, starting slow but building pace. Their tongues remained entwined as she thrust her hips back into his, digging her heels into Allan's buttocks, forcing him deeper into her. They'd been married for a couple of years now, having been together for more than 5 years and they both enjoyed a full and satisfying sex life. Beth had dated guys before she'd met Allan but other than kissing and petting, she'd never gone all the way with anyone other than Allan. He was all she needed, all she wanted and she was deeply in love with the man. He was good looking, stood 6'1" and was fit in more than one way. Sure, he was a regular down the gym but he was also very attractive and she found it easy to be turned on by this good looking hunk. He wasn't just looks, either, his education had enabled him to acquire a well paid job and they enjoyed a good standard of living, their joint incomes resulted in sufficient surplus income to spend on luxuries such as good holidays. And on top of all this, Allan knew which buttons of hers to press to turn her on. She disengaged from their kiss. "I love you" she whispered as she felt the first wave of orgasm approached. Beth tensed her pelvic muscles, making her pussy tighter, accentuating Allan's pleasure as well as her own. Their breathing became more laboured as they rocketed towards their climaxes, Allan's forehead perspiring despite his obvious fitness level. Beth looked up at her husband and lover and, in one final burst of passion, she thrust herself into his hips with such force, she felt his balls slap against her buttocks, the slapping sound louder than their passionate breathing. She arched her back as her body went into an uncontrollable spasm, her breathing suspended temporarily as her body reached orgasm, swiftly followed by a second, the process sending Allan into orgasm as well, thrusting himself deep into her and holding himself in place as he ejaculated into his wife, filling her pussy with his sweet sticky cum. They lay together, their bodies still joined at the hips as they fought to regain their breath, Allan supporting his weight with one arm, the other gently stroking Beth's long dark hair. God, she was horny he thought to himself. Her 34-24-34 body on a 5'7" frame gave her ample curves and sufficient height to turn any guy's head. She was definitely attractive and always received a lot of attention, not all of it unpleasant. She knew how to look good and she enjoyed having the power to turn guys on, to make men want her, to feel aroused just by her looks. By the same token, she was a one man woman and that man was Allan. She'd fancied him from the very start when they met when she was a sweet and tender 18 year old virgin. She'd given herself to Allan and, since then, she'd wanted no-one else and doubted that she ever would. Allan had had a few girlfriends before he'd met Beth but he was totally smitten with her. At first, he thought it was just an infatuation but it slowly became apparent that they had mutual feelings and 3 years later, they married. Beth was used to receiving attention and loved to flirt a little but nothing more than a bit of harmless fun. She was used to being asked out and chatted up at work, at clubs or even just out shopping with girl friends. But since she met Allan, she was completely content as, indeed, was Allan. Later that evening, they had gone out to a club and Allan had queued up at the bar to get some drinks. He'd watched Beth from a distance being chatted up by total strangers and, at first, it had made Allan's blood boil. She was his woman, get your filthy hands off, he'd thought to himself. Then he'd noticed he had gone rock hard in his trousers whilst merely watching them. How could this be? He wondered how it were possible for him to get aroused thinking about the love of his life, his woman, his betrothed being chatted up by a total stranger. Was this normal? "Silly arse" he whispered to himself as he thought the consequences through. All that was happening was that some guy was chatting to his wife, he wasn't cuddling her, kissing her, groping her or, worse still, making love to her. So what was the problem? The problem was the more he thought about the consequences, the harder his cock got. "Yes, mate" the barman said, shaking Allan out of his day dream. Allan ordered the Vodka and Red Bull's and returned to the table. Allan was introduced to the strangers as Beth's "Husband" and as he stood at an intimidating 6'1" and well toned, the strangers made brief polite conversation before making their excuses and leaving them in peace. Beth smiled and Allan smiled back. His eyes, however, gave him away. "What's up with you?" Beth queried. Allan smiled more, his eyes misting over with the start of some perverted thoughts. "Oh, nothing" he lied. Beth cocked her head to one said and gave him that "Don't lie to me" look that she had. "Well......" Allan began, "...I'll tell you when we get home" he said, hoping to distract her with a dance. "No. Come on. Tell me" she persevered. Beth was a very strong willed woman. Allan sighed. How could he tell his wife that he was turned on thinking about her in the arms of another guy. She'd lamp him one, he was sure of it. "You ever heard of Prurient?" he said, outright. He hoped she was unaware of the phrase. So far, luck was with him as Beth shook her head. Beth wondered if it were an insurance company. In fairness, Allan had only become aware of the phrase recently when a work colleague introduced him to the concept. The colleague had told Allan about a prurient club where members, all couples, indulged in what was known as soft swing. "You know what swinging is?" he probed further. Again, Beth shook her head. "Is it something that monkeys do on trees?" she said, half seriously, half tongue in cheek. Allan grimaced. She was in one of those moods, was she? Beth took a sip of her drink. "Swinging is a term used for......" he felt very self conscious that this could ruin a great relationship and physically prepared himself for a slapped face "......wife swapping" he said, reaching for his own drink and holding it to his lips, partly for protection but mostly to hide his face from hers as be blushed. "Soft swing is where you entertain...another partner......whilst your own partner watches......but only with your hands......oh, or your mouth" he stammered his way through the brief description. "What are you saying" Beth said, her voice intimating. Beth was not enjoying what she was hearing. "Only to play out at home" he replied meekly. "As a fantasy, you know" he winked at her, taking a big sip of his drink. Allan knew he was not alone in his thoughts, the quantity of websites obviously had sufficient subscribers to make it worth their while. Allan was still uncertain why he was so aroused by such thoughts. After all, he'd kill anyone who tried to harm Beth. But what if the stranger meant her no harm at all, only pleasure. Didn't he love her enough to want her to have pleasure? Of course he loves her enough. But to imagine some stranger pawing at his wife's gorgeous breasts, the breasts he himself found much pleasure in caressing, kissing, nibbling, sucking......he noticed himself getting hard again. "Why?" Beth's question broke his train of thought. "I thought we had plenty of fun in the bedroom area" she said, her hand slipping under the table and stroking his thigh, noticing his already firm bulge in his Levi's. "Yeah. Well, it was just a thought" he said, taking another large swig from his vodka glass. "I couldn't bear to think of you with......another woman" Beth said, her words carefully pronounced. Allan knew she was going to say something less polite like "Some old trollop" or "Slapper" or something. "But we've played out fantasies before" he said, bravely trying to defend his honour. Beth stopped in her tracks. It was true, they had acted out fantasies before. Not often, mind you, but enough for a bit of variety. Dressing up seemed pointless when shortly after beginning, it would all be removed again, she had thought to her self. But she was also aware that keeping her man happy in the bedroom would make him less likely to stray. And, according to an article in a woman's magazine, variety was the spice of life as sex could get a bit boring. "How do you plan to do that then?" she asked cautiously. Allan put his drink down. Could she be warming to the idea. 'Best not rush it, take it step at a time' Allan thought to himself. "Oh, you know......" Allan said nonchalantly. Beth looked at him carefully. "Tell me" she ordered. "Well. Just pretend I'm someone different" he said. She blinked. "Is that it?" "Initially, yeah!" "What do you mean initially?" she enquired cagily, her face showing some apprehension. "To begin with" he replied. "Thanks for being a thesaurus!" Beth said icily, "I meant, how do you plan this to develop?" "Beth, I watched you being chatted up by those geeks earlier and you've just felt my crotch. I'm rock hard, sweet heart. I don't know why, but it turned me on. Maybe, if we tried acting out the scenario in the bedroom, it might add a bit of spice to our sex lives". "Spice?" Beth retorted. "We've made love in every room in the house including he garden shed, much to the amusement of the neighbours. We've done it in the car, in the cinema, in the swimming pool changing rooms, we've made love in the park, on a boat and on a hotel balcony. How much more sodding spice do you need?" Allan looked shocked. "I though you liked it" he uttered, looking deep into the amber glow of his drinks glass as though it were a crystal ball, looking for some image or sign that would give him some answers. There was a short pause. "Well, I do like it" Beth responded. There was a short pause. "But this is a bit different. It's perverted" she continued. "No less perverted than making love in a public place" he said, his eyes never leaving his vodka Red Bull. Another silent pause ensued. "Anyway, it would always be you with another, not me with another". There was another short awkward pause in conversation. "Just in the bedroom?" she replied, her hand stroking his thigh again. He looked up at her sexy brown eyes. God she was horny. He nodded in agreement as he spoke. "Yes". Beth smiled, her hand reaching the thick denim clad rod that was pressed against his leg. She could almost feel his pulse in his cock through the thick material of his jeans and she imagined the tip of his erection covered in pre-cum, she could almost taste it. "Then take me, stranger, to your bed and have your wicked way with me" she said, her cute smile showed just a glimmer of impishness, she was warming to the idea of a bit of naughty-ness in their love making. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before moving his lips down to find her freshly glossed lips. She placed a finger on his lips before he could insert his tongue. "Not so fast, stranger. Buy me some more drinks and get me pissed, stranger. I don't come cheap" she said, her mood changing to be a little slutty especially for Allan. "OK, miss" he said, playing along with the game. "And don't disappoint me" she said, licking her lips seductively and staring straight at Allan's groin. "I only like BIG BOYS" she said, the words leaving her lips in her sexiest voice, the type you might expect from a premium rate phone number. Allan pondered on how well she might do as an operator on an 0898 number. "So you'd like a large one, then?" he asked on purpose, knowing Beth would easily interpret his double entendre. "You betcha" she replied. "Oh, and while you're at it, I'll have a drink as well!" Allan grinned at her mirth. Chapter 2 Allan laid Beth on the bed, their breaths full of alcohol vapour, their kissing passionate and hungry. Tongues wrapped themselves around each other in much the same way as their arms did, hands over each others hot bodies, touching, caressing, teasing each others skin, stroking, massaging, arousing. Allan disengaged his mouth from Beth's, their breathing deep and erotic. The shadows from the romantic candles danced on the ceiling, adding to the atmosphere, the gentle back ground music and the smell of each other's cologne and perfume awakening all the senses. Beth went to speak but Allan placed his finger on his own lip as if to shush her. He leaned forward and nibbled her ear lobe and Beth responded, wrapping her long legs around his well toned hips. "Tell me about this stranger" he urged her, his speech little more than a whisper. "Well, he'd be about your height....." she began, kissing him with each piece of information, "maybe with blond hair and possibly a tattoo on his shoulders" she continued. Allan became more intrigued. "What else?" he whispered. "He'd have lots of chest hair so I could feel my breasts being aroused as we made love..." she said, her breathing becoming more laboured as the visualisation manifested itself in her own mind, "...and pearly white teeth. Maybe he'd speak with an Australian accent......" she continued and Allan's mind spun every bit as much as hers must have done. She was really living the dream and Allan couldn't wait to fuck her. ".......and he'd have a big erection, lots of pubic hair which would rub against my clit as we made love......" Allan noticed she always referred to sex as making love. "......and big balls that slapped against my bottom. He'd gently caress my breasts with his big muscular hands and I'd have to brush his hair out of his eyes as we made out". Allan could hardly believe his ears. His mind conjured up an image of the Australian cricketer, Brett Lee, with a bit more muscle and height. "What would you do to him?" Allan asked. Beth closed her eyes, as though she was loosing herself in her own imagination. "We'd enjoy a few drinks and chat a little. I'd flirt with him and maybe stroke his chest to see just how much chest hair he had. Then, I'd let him kiss me. He'd have to make the first move, you understand" she said, her eyes opening momentarily as she spoke. She disappeared back in to her own little world again. "I'd suck his tongue whilst he fondled my breasts, I'd let him unclip my bra before taking my top off so as I lifted my arms, he pulled off my top and bra at the same time" she said. Her breathing remained laboured as she laid back on the bed, her arms above her head as though she wanted Allan to caress her breasts as she spoke. Allan reached out for her ample tits and gently cupped them with both hands and Beth squirmed slowly in delight. Beneath the material of her clothing, he could feel her nipples pert and erect, pressing against the tight material, wanting to be liberated and open to the atmosphere. Allan lifted her top over her slim tummy and she sat up enough for Allan to reach behind her and unclip her bra, as she had described a few moments earlier, before removing the offending articles over her head. She collapsed back on the bed and Allan once again reached for her tits. "Then what" Allan asked, trying to impersonate an Australian accent. "I'd let the guy fondle my breasts and suck on them, one at a time, each nipple getting the same amount of attention" she whispered. Allan responded, following her description, his tongue and lips licking and sucking at her nipples, the saliva glistening in the candle light. "Then, I'd reach for his belt" she said, her arms reaching out for Allan's belt and unbuckling him. She unclipped the button on his jeans and unzipped him. "Then I'd tell the guy to undress for me so I can see how much he is turned on by me" she said, opening her eyes and sitting up slightly, supporting her self on her elbows. Allan stood and removed his jeans then, slowly and provocatively, he began to lower his boxers. His seven and a half inches stood proud and he so much wanted to fuck his wife but Allan wanted the fantasy to last. She sat up some more and reached out for Allan's erect penis and gently ran her hands down the shaft, her mouth merely centimetres away from the tip, her warm breath gently huffing on his hard moist erection. She teased Allan a little, allowing her long dark hair to fall against his sensitive penis-head, the tingling sending tremors of delight up Allan's spine. "Then I'd sit him down..." she continued, rolling off the bed so she was squatted in front of him, "...then I'd do this." Beth held his shaft with one hand and placed her mouth at the base of his cock where his scrotum met the penis, her tongue extended and began to lick the sensitive piece of skin. Allan laid back in ecstasy as his wife butterfly flicked his scrotum. He murmured gently. "You like?" she asked in between flicks of her tongue. "Mmm" Allan responded. He was ready to explode but he wanted to cum in her pussy, not on the bed sheets. As if reading his mind, Bethany continued. "Then I'd do this" she whispered, her voice going as low and seductive as her laboured breathing would allow. She stood and unzipped her short skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, then hooking her thumbs through the elastic of her panties, she slowly lowered her briefs, revealing inch by inch, more of her pussy until all was in full view. She stepped out of her underwear and knelt on the bed, manoeuvring her way up to Allan's shoulders before straddling his neck, a knee by each of his ears before she lowered her self on to his waiting mouth. Allan poked his tongue out to meet her soaking wet pussy as her labia met with his lips, her dark pubic hair against his face. Allan adjusted himself so he could breathe through his nose as his tongue lapped eagerly at her moist love lips. Beth squirmed and moaned in delight as his tongue probed at her labia, his lips and tongue nibbling at her clitoris, making her squirm even more. Allan reached up and felt one of her breasts, gently caressing her, feeling her erect nipple against the fleshy part of his fingers. Beth responded, writhing on Allan's face as he turned her on. Unable to take any more, she took control. "Make love to me" she commanded, dismounting from Allan's face and wriggling down his body until she was over his groin. She grabbed his erection with her hand and directed herself towards it, wanking him slowly in the process. Allan groaned in pleasure. He felt her warmness as she lowered herself onto him, impaling herself on his dick. "Mmm" Allan murmured as he entered her, his eyes half open as he used his other senses to enjoy the experience. "Fuck me" she said and Allan open his eyes sharply. Beth was not usually this coarse when they had sex. "Pardon?" "I said Fuck me" she repeated. Allan was turned on even more by her dirty talk. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 01 "Is this how you'd speak to a stranger?" he questioned. "Shut up and fuck me" she responded, leaning back and arching herself as she rode his erection, her ample breasts pointing at Allan begging to be caressed. Allan obliged, tweaking her nipples with his thumb and forefingers until she squirmed even more. She began bucking on Allan's love rod, moaning in delight as his meat filled her completely. She may be living out a fantasy for her husband for his sake, but he was everything she needed, great technique and sufficient size to satisfy. He thrust his hips as deep into her as he could and they both gasped simultaneously, almost as though his movements were instinctual. That was another thing she loved about him, they were so in tune with each other, as friends as well as lovers. God, he was so good in bed and she doubted she'd find better, even if she tried. Allan was turned on by Beth, images of her with someone else raging in his brain like a hurricane. Of course, he could never go through with the idea in real life and neither could Beth, they were too much in love with each other. But they were happy to act out fantasies together and that closeness made them even closer, sharing not just their lives (and bodily juices) but their dreams and fantasies as well. Beth was in her own little world, too. She could do the dirty talk but what really turned her on was seeing her hubby enjoying himself as this invariably resulted in his performance being even better. Consequently, she would reach a strong and powerful climax if Allan was in tip-top shape so playing out the fantasies were as much for her own benefit as for his. And his performance this evening was unbelievable. What's more, he had some staying power, he could make love for hours before withering and tonight was no exception. Beth felt her plateau was on the ascend again and her movements became more vigorous, her writhing became more accentuated as she hurtled towards her climax. Beth's breathing came in short sharp gasps as she prepared herself for her blessed relief, her muscles tensed as she reached her climax. "Oh my god!" she yelped as Allan moved one hand from a breast to her clitoris and massaged it gently with his knuckles. She became motionless, albeit temporarily, like a statue as the wave of orgasm made every nerve in her body tingle. Her breathing stopped momentarily as she climaxed, her pelvic muscles tightening on Allan's rock hard dick. She drew in breath suddenly, like a drowning person might when they surface, and Allan imagined the candles waving precariously as the oxygen in the room became exhausted and the flames fought for their own lives. The shadows on the ceiling were merely Beth's own movements, however, and as she came down from her climax, Allan felt his own climax building. His mind took over and the fantasy in his mind's eye sped him to the inevitable, his seed spilling into his wife with a force Beth felt, his sperm squirting against her insides, tickling her from within, pumping, ejaculating, cumming. They slowly regained their breath, Beth crouching forward with Allan's cock still inside her, feeling the pulse from his penis against her pussy lips. They kissed tenderly for several minutes, enjoying the closeness of each other. "Was that nice?" Beth enquired, her eyebrows raised in eager anticipation. Allan grinned like a Cheshire cat and murmured quietly to himself, feeling his own juices slowly dribbling out his wife's used pussy onto his balls. "How was that for you?" he asked. She smirked a little. "Promise me one thing" Beth said. Allan looked at her seriously, expecting some chastisement. "Never try and do an Australian accent again!" Beth finished. Then she smiled, giving the game away that she was only teasing Allan. Allan feigned shock. "You don't like my Ozzie accent, Sheila?" he said in his poor Australian accent again. Beth leaned back on the bed and reached for a pillow and placed it over his head in a pretend fight to suffocate him. "You've been warned" she said playfully. They rolled over on the bed, frolicking about. Allan got the better of her and sat on her chest, his semi limp penis pointing to her giggling face. "You're special" he said, leaning forward and kissing her. "How special?" Beth asked. "Very special." "Special enough to get me a diet coke from the fridge?" she asked. Allan pulled away from the kiss. "Don't push your luck too far!" he said, playfully. Another play fight ensued followed by more love making and Allan thought to himself that they should replay this fantasy more often. Chapter 3 Both had enjoyed the session and had eventually fallen asleep in each others arms, dreaming of how much in love they were with each other. They relived the fantasy many times, each time Beth would conjure up images of different characters, film stars, sports personalities, musicians, even one or two characters which Allan couldn't place. Of course, no names were used, just verbal images, allowing the imagination to operate at its full potential making the experience even more erotic. Every time, it would be Beth being taken by a stranger, flirting with them, flashing flesh at them, allowing them to kiss her, fondle her, grope her and then have full sex. Each time there would be something different, sometimes Beth would want it from behind, other times in missionary. On one occasion, they ended up in a pile-driver position, something Allan hadn't done very often with Beth and required some forward planning to ensure she was comfortable and he didn't fall on her. Sometimes, they would act out the fantasy with the bedroom curtains open, as though the thought of being watched added to their enjoyment. Other times, they might make love in a bath full of water or on the dining table, sometimes with a pot of sweet and sour sauce left over from their earlier take-away that they had saved purposely for the event. Seasons were constantly changing, the months passed by and still Allan and Beth enjoyed the fantasy. If they needed any additional spicing up of their sex lives, this fantasy of Bethany with another guy hit the target every time. Because each time was different, it was always wild, hot and steamy. Allan had been known to crawl into work, looking like he'd just come off a night shift, so little sleep he'd had. But Allan never complained, his wife was keeping him happy between the sheets and, let's be honest, if it were you, would you complain? They often spent time in deep meaningful conversation and both had confirmed that this was only a fantasy, that neither of them wanted it to actually happen. That said, they both found the whole fantasy thing a real turn on, provided it was only with each other. Allan, however, was still being told about the soft swing scene by his work colleague and how that could be a real turn on. "No pressure, if you just want to watch, then that's fine. At your own speed" his mate had told him. "Soft swing is where your partner gives another guy a blow job or a hand job in your presence and they reciprocate with your woman. You can either watch or indulge with the other guy's woman. It's up to you but you can stop at any time." Allan had found the entire thing odd but strangely arousing. He'd surfed the net and found a plethora of soft swing sites, a large proportion of them in the UK and had found them intriguing. Curiosity lead him to alternative sites and each site resulted in him becoming more interested. He'd even rang one of the help lines for a soft swing site and found himself in deep conversation with a lovely Ulster-man who bombarded Allan with mountains of information about the soft swing scene, the protocols and even just the social side without the need to indulge in intimate relationships with alternative people. The subscription fee was minimal and why not join? The chap sounded a nice guy and had an infectious laugh, making Allan feel really at ease. Allan found himself intrigued beyond his own belief and wondered if he and Beth could maybe try something on their own before they jumped in and joined a proper organisation. Allan arrived home early one evening and found Beth in a sexy mood. She'd dressed up for his home coming and had done her hair and make up beautifully for him. "What's this all about?" he challenged her as he took the glass of wine she'd handed him. "I've something special for you" she said in her minx type manner. She reached under her top and pulled out a paper wallet and handed it to Allan. He put his wine glass down and opened the wallet. Inside were plane tickets for Ibiza for both of them. He looked at her quizzically. "Look at the flight dates" she said. Allan opened one of the tickets and saw the dates incorporated his birthday which was fast approaching. "Happy birthday!" Beth said as he looked back up at her, planting a big wet kiss on his confused face. "Look. We've got our own villa on a complex with a shared pool, clubs and bars nearby and two weeks of sun, sea, sand, sangria and......can you think of anything else that begins with 'S'?" she teased. Allan's face burst into a grin. "Surprised?" Beth asked. Allan scooped her up in his arms and kissed her, gently at first, then passionately, his hands reaching for her arse. She pulled away from his embrace. "Stop it. Dinner's ready" she said, adjusting herself even though there was only her and Allan there. She attended to the oven and hob whilst Allan sat at the dining table, repossessing his wine glass. "I've planned what I'm taking. I thought I'd pack that sexy bikini you love me in" she called. "Which one? I love them all" Allan replied. "OK, I'll take them all" she replied and Allan winced. Hopefully that wouldn't push them over the 20kg baggage limit too much. Just to be on the safe side, he'd limit Beth to only taking flimsy light clothing, that way they'd keep the excess baggage fees down and she'd look sexy in flimsy clothing. "Good plan" he thought to himself. Allan woke up late one morning in the villa and his head hurt. The sun shining through the drawn curtains felt like his eyes were being scorched and his mouth felt like the inside of a parrot cage. It must have been a good night last night. His head felt like there was a rave going on inside his brain with Keith Moon and Cozy Powell having a drum duel. Then he remembered the night of passion with his dear wife. God, she had driven him crazy, a combination of alcohol and a bit of "E" they'd acquired locally and Beth had turned totally wild. Visions of the way she had mounted him flooded back into his mind and he gently put his hand towards his own genitalia, gingerly fumbling to see if he was still intact. He wondered if he'd still be able to walk, so ferocious was Beth in bed. He eased his legs over the side of the bed and slowly sat up, the rush of blood to his head resulted in another July 4th firework display exploding between his ears, his hangover pounding and echoing within his skull. He padded over to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. He still felt like shit. It wasn't like that in the movies, he mused to himself, wondering how he could still be jovial when he felt like a walking corpse! He ventured into the sitting room, the patio doors were open and through the blinding sunlight, he could see Beth sitting on a sun lounger, cold drink in one hand and a book in the other. "Oh, you're up then" she said cheekily to him, putting her book down. "Fancy a swim?" Allan shook his head and instantly wished he hadn't. Beth looked at him but without pity. "You old 'un's just aint up to partying, are you?" she joked. As she stood, Allan saw her in her skimpy bikini, the bra element barely covering her nipples and he could see them protruding through the wet material, her lovely dark hair still moist from the pool. He guessed she'd been in and out of the pool most of the morning, having a quick dip every time she got too warm. Her skimpy bikini bottoms barely covered her pussy and little tufts of dark pubic hair were visible, despite Beth having her bikini line waxed prior to their holiday. His groin stirred and his head pounded with the sudden increase in heart beat. "So what happened last night?" he asked, tentatively. He hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself. "Oh, not much!" Beth said nonchalantly as she sat back down. Allan sat on a lounger beside her. "Oh. Good" he said, placing his head in his hands. "How was Sharon?" Beth enquired. "Who?" "Sharon? That blonde bimbo you were chatting up?" Beth continued. "Sharon?" Allan shook his head and again regretted the action. "Is this a wind up?" "You must remember. She was the blonde tart with big tits. You'd only had a couple of drinks and you spilt your drink down her top. You tried to dry her top with your almost clean handkerchief before the bouncer intervened. He was going to throw you out for groping until I stepped in and rescued you" Beth concluded. Allan couldn't remember a thing. "Did I have any "E" last night?" "What d'you think?" Beth answered. Allan tried his best to remember. "So I dabbed her......you know......with my hanky, was that all?" he said, hopefully. "Yeah. That's all" Beth replied. She left a short pause. "Well, you tried to chat her up whilst you were 'dabbing' her tits with your hanky. I saw you tweak her bum with your hand. Oh, and she snogged you a bit" Beth said, icily. Allan groaned inwardly. He'd made a total pratt of himself and Beth had witnessed the entire thing. And, what was worse, he couldn't remember doing it at all. "What were you doing whilst I was.........talking to this......Sharon?" Allan enquired, not too sure if he wanted to know the answer. "Oh, just dancing" Beth replied. Another short pause. "With Jose." Allan looked up sharply, his head hurt but he was becoming more coherent. "Who's Jose?" he asked. Beth smiled inwardly. "Well, if you were trying to make me jealous, I thought I'd respond by making you jealous, so I danced with Jose for much of the night. After I rescued you, you sat in the corner nursing your drink until you passed out." "So how did I get home?" "Taxi. It cost me 30 Euro's more 'cos you were legless, but never mind" Beth replied, picking up her book and turning to a page. She pretended to read as she piled the agony on to Allan. "I think Jose liked me" she continued. Allan replaced his head to his hands. "How do you mean?" Allan responded. "Oh, just the way he kissed me" she replied. Allan's jaw dropped to the floor. "And I couldn't keep his hands of my arse" she continued. Allan looked up at her, her sun shades hiding her mirth behind her tinted glasses. "You mean........" "Oh, you pratt! I'm teasing you" she blurted, laughing out loud. "Yes, I did dance with a few guys but only because you were out of it. When we got back here, you and me made love. You must remember that?" she said. Allan nodded. He did remember that part, his bruised thighs bore the scars of their efforts. "I remember you getting a lot of attention when we got there" he stated. She looked up from her book and if Allan had been a bit more coherent, he'd have noticed her book was upside down. "That's nothing new though, is it?" Beth replied. Allan had to agree. She was sexy, no matter what she wore. She could wear grandmother tweed and still look horny. Well, maybe not tweed, he thought to himself, but she had a way of carrying herself that turned heads wherever she went. He reached for the bottle of Pepsi by her lounger and took a swig straight from the bottle. He needed re-hydration with the sudden increase in heart beat and fast. Allan stood to go back indoors. "May I make a suggestion?" Beth questioned. "Huh!" "Put some clothes on!" Allan looked down and realised he was naked on the patio. He trotted back inside. Chapter 4 Evening descended and Allan had recovered sufficiently to handle another club but tonight, he would limit the alcohol and avoid any "E". He was still a little fragile and wondered how on earth Beth could still be so perky. Maybe she'd been less heavy on the alcohol herself yesterday. The image of Beth and Jose had played on Allan's mind all day and although he couldn't remember the guy or any of the guys Beth had danced with, he imagined the guy in his mind. Like their fantasy play acting, he imagined the guy cuddling his wife, dancing with her, embracing her, cuddling her, kissing her, touching her........ "I wonder?" he said to himself. "Wonder what?" Beth replied. Allan hadn't realised he'd said it out loud as well. "I've an idea. Are you up for a bit of a challenge?" he asked Beth. She looked at him in one of her "What's he planning now" looks. Allan paused, waiting for her response. "Go on" she urged, her arms crossed defensively. "I was just thinking about you, last night. I know I was out of it, but I'd love to see you flirt with Jose again." Beth smiled. "His name wasn't Jose. I made that up" she said. "But I did dance with a couple of guys, more for company than anything else." "Would you flirt and dance with another guy tonight whilst I watch" he said bluntly. "I'd rather dance with you, big boy" she said, cuddling up to him and allowing her hand to wander down to his buttocks, giving his bum her usual playful squeeze. "Me too" he said, followed swiftly by "We can dance all night but I'd still like to see you flirt with some one else. You made me jealous earlier when you said you'd kissed and groped another guy, I'd like other guys to feel jealous of me." "I don't understand" Beth responded, trying to look into Allan's eyes. "Well, you know how you turn on other men. They all fancy you, they'd all like to bed you. That's a given." Beth nodded. She had to agree that she always attracted attention from men. She was attractive. A stunner, even. It was evident that she was able to create erections with just a smile. "I'd like other guys to want you so much but it would be me that took you home, who slept with you, who undressed you, who made love to you. It's an ego thing." Beth nodded. "I know you like that sort of thing. I'm not sure I do" she replied. Allan sighed. "But you're OK with the play acting and fantasy stuff." "Yeah, but that's just play acting. It's not real" she said. "But that's the point, the more real it is, the more exciting it would be. Since we've played out these fantasies, our love making has been fantastic, don't you agree?" Beth nodded. "Sure, it's been heavenly." She realised in her own heart that over the last few months, they'd grown even closer, their relationship was even stronger than before, not least because of the increase in bedroom activities. "Imagine how much better it could be if you acted out the first bit with a real stranger. Imagine how could sex could be afterwards. We wouldn't need "E" to get us horny, all we'd need is a club and a stranger." "I'm not so sure" Beth replied, not totally comfortable with the idea as such, although great sex was something she did enjoy. She'd never felt so close to Allan in all the years they'd been together. "Aw! Come on, dear. Just this once? What do you say? Huh?" Allan's persuasive voice and genuine manner gave Beth a bit of security. After all, he wasn't asking her to sleep with another man, just to flirt and dance and things. And she had enjoyed their recent bedroom fun, occasionally instigating the role play, much to Allan's delight. "How far do you expect me to go?" she asked, her eyebrows raised quizzically. "Don't know....." he replied, honestly. ".....as far as you feel comfortable, dear. Tell you what, is your mobile fully charged?" Beth nodded. They both had international roaming facilities on their cell-phones and she'd recharged her battery earlier, just in case her family called her. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 01 "I'll text you with some suggestions. After each dance, make an excuse to have a drink and pick up the text message. Why don't we use the codes we used to use before we were married?" "I remember" Beth replied. "You used to send me lewd messages. You've always been a bit pervy, haven't you?" Beth joked. "I thought that's what you loved about me" Allan replied jovially. They smiled at each other and Beth drew in a big sigh. "OK. If it means that much to you" she agreed. She had a gut instinct that she might live to regret the decision but she loved Allan so much, this was what he wanted so badly so, why not? Anyway, maybe she would enjoy the experience, she always felt sexy when she went out, her clothing adding to her natural beauty and attracted lots of attention. She'd always found the attention exhilarating, even amusing provided it didn't get too heavy and, with their role playing recently, maybe she could generate some more ideas for their future fantasies. Allan wanted to jump up and punch the air in delight. Instead, he put his arm around Beth's waist and pulled her close to him, placing his lips against hers. "Thank you. You know I love you, don't you?" he said between kisses. "Show me later when you get me home......" Beth replied, ".......provided you're not too drunk again!" "Trust me!" he said. Beth gave him another of her sideways glances which, in her body language, meant "Yeah, right!" The club was heaving with people and they fought to get a drink at the bar. Allan opted for a small short with tonnes of tonic water. He needed to keep his wits about him this evening. Beth was looking really horny, a short skirt and a tied T shirt on top of a bikini which was Allan's favourite. They chatted for a little while before they split. He would watch her from a safe distance whilst she danced on her own. She'd purposely left her wedding ring on, so as not to be seen to be fibbing when she came to terminate any relationship she'd built with some stranger. It didn't take long for a young local lad to approach her, he was late teens or early twenties, dark haired and olive skinned. He was about 5'11" and a little podgy, but clean shaven and smelt clean and fresh. He offered to buy Beth a drink and she agreed. If she was going to lead the guy on, you may as well do it properly and save some money in the process, she thought to herself. The guy called himself Juan and Beth was not about to argue, thinking his real name could be very complicated. He was in smart casual clothing and when he returned with their drinks, he was very attentive, asking Beth lots of questions like did she have a boy friend and such. Beth answered honestly, no she did not have a boy friend. That was not a lie. She was economic with the facts however, assuming her wedding ring might give Juan a few clues. Unperturbed, Juan continued to chat Beth up, asking her lots of personal questions about her work, hobbies, music and so on. Beth felt her mobile vibrate as a text message came in and she covertly read the message. "xxx" it read. That meant to let him have a few small kisses. Beth was not sure about this, but her husband was only a few yards away and would easily pummel this Spaniard into a pulp if he tried anything. She accepted some praise from Juan and gave him a little peck on the cheek. His 'chat up' lines were incredibly corny, and she winced at his method at times. Still, he was sweet in his own sort of way and she was warming to him slowly. Her phone vibrated again. "*LL" it read. It meant to flash Juan a little bit of leg. Beth felt a little nervous but she decided she was up for the challenge. What's more, she couldn't wait to get Allan into bed. She guessed he'd be so hot and up for a good romp. She engaged in conversation with Juan, hitching her skirt up subtly to scratch her thigh, leaving the flesh exposed. She could see Juan was getting hard and he fought to control his vision, trying to look genuine and retain eye contact but with the distraction of upper thigh being flashed, it was difficult to keep concentration. Beth's bag vibrated again and she again read the message without being seen. "iI?" it read. She texted back "I". Juan's dick was not little, it was erect and Allan had been querying if her charms were working. Allan received the text back, his own cock hardening at the thought of this foreigner getting aroused by his wife. Allan watched from a safe distance, the music from the disco drowning out normal conversation unless you were very close to the people you were talking to. Allan wished he had taken a lip-reading course at some point. He was aching to know what was happening. He glanced at his own mobile phone. No message alerts yet. He returned his gaze to his beautiful wife who was flirting quite blatantly with this young local lad. Allan could take it no more. He reached for his phone and texted Beth with the message "*UU". Beth felt the phone vibrate but could not view the message covertly enough for some time. Allan thought she'd not got the message. "Shit! What's she up to?" he said to himself as his fingers pressed the keys on the keypad. Send. Moments later, Beth's phone vibrated again. Allan was becoming quite impatient. Shortly after, Juan was interrupted by a friend, giving Beth the opportunity to read her messages. "He wants me to flash a bit of my breasts" she said under her breath. Her mind spun. This was getting a little out of hand. Flirting was OK, it could even be fun. Leading a guy on was very unfair, however. This poor guy was thinking he might get laid when all she was doing was prick teasing him. She thought about the consequences if the guy got heavy or violent. "Don't be such a silly cow!" she said to herself beneath her breath. Allan was just a few feet away and, although he was currently out of her sight, she knew he could see her and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Reluctantly, she undid a button on her top and turned back to face Juan. He tried to restart the conversation but with the hitched up skirt and now an extra button on the blouse undone, his speech became less coherent. Beth almost felt sorry for Juan as he stammered and stuttered, trying to be polite but unable to remove his eyes from her sexy body. "Fancy a dance, Juan?" she said, trying to save his embarrassment. He nodded, aware that his erection protruded through his tight trousers leaving little to the imagination. Beth noticed but was more subtle in her recognition of his cock, noticing that it was quite a big beast. Beth had not had heaps and loads of experience of erect penises having only ever had sex with Allan. She'd seen and stroked other guys bulges when she was dating prior to meeting her hubby, but nothing more. She knew these things came in different sizes and she was sure this one fell into 'the above average' class, rather like Allan's. Beth knew that this flirting thing with a total stranger was morally wrong because she was deeply in love with Allan. But it was the sense of adventure. Because she'd never really 'been' with another guy, at the back of her mind, Beth had always wondered what it might be like. Allan showered her with love and affection; that much was true, but it was great to be the centre of attention and Beth was enjoying being flirtatious. And she knew she was safe, Allan would step in and save her if things got awkward. The dance track wasn't one of Juan's favourites and Allan wasn't that keen on the track either. Beth, however, was having a whale of a time, shaking her groove thing like a woman possessed. As she danced, her luscious body swayed, her ample breasts swinging from side to side like a metronome, hypnotising half the dance floor as she danced. Allan watched from the balcony, his own stiffy pressing against his own tight clothing, begging to be liberated. He'd never really watched Beth from a distance on the dance floor, they'd always danced together. She was a great dancer but sexy with it. God, she was hot. And, unless he was very much mistaken, she was really enjoying herself, judging by the look on her face. He wanted so much for the evening to end there and then so he could take her home and fuck her. Allan wanted to feel her pussy on his erection, her warm wet tongue against his, her hot sweaty body writhing against his. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted to show her his love. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to fill her with his love. He wanted to spill his semen into her warm, wet, inviting pussy. Allan knew that pretty much most of the guys on the dance floor that were ogling his betrothed would have given their right arms for an opportunity to do what Allan was planning. Right now, however, all Allan could do was watch. The music changed and a slow song began and, just like in the UK, the dance floor was flooded with blokes looking for a lady to slow dance with. Juan held onto Beth, his arms wrapped around her, his nose against hers. He spoke to her and Allan tried desperately to read his lips. No good, he was as much in the dark as he had been all night. Allan noticed Juan's head move but his back was towards Allan and it wasn't until they'd danced around a bit that Allan noticed that John was kissing his bride. Beth had taken this strangers tongue into her mouth and was frenching the guy. Allan was regaining his thoughts when he saw Juan's hand slip down Beth's back and cup a handful of her arse, his tongue still buried deep in Beth's mouth. Beth was not pushing him away. Allan wanted her to stop so he reached for his phone. He turned around, not wanting to view any more, his mind all askew. Should he text her to stop? He was pained to see her like this but, by the same token, he was so aroused by it. How far did he really want her to go? Not all the way, surely? "Bollocks" he said to himself. He wanted to stop. He'd text her, then he'd go down to the dance floor from the balcony and repossess his own wife, take her back to the villa and screw her long and hard. "Good plan" he thought to himself. "Hiya" a voice said in his ear. Allan turned around and saw a blond girl looking at him. She looked slightly familiar but he couldn't place her. Allan nodded politely, turning his attention back to his phone. "Do you remember me?" she said again. Allan looked at her. He went to speak, then froze. He noticed she had a large bust and in her hand was a handkerchief. "You were kind enough to lend me this yesterday" the girl continued. "I thought I'd take the opportunity to return it to you personally" she said, leaning forward to kiss Allan. His worst nightmare was coming true, an unwanted distraction. Sure, this girl was pretty and had an ample bust but, right now, he had his own world to save. "No problems" he said, brusquely. He moved away from the balcony but the girl followed him. "As a thank you, I'd like to buy you a drink. If that's OK?" she said tentatively. "Uh? No need. You're very welcome" he said, trying to compose his text. "No. I insist" she said, stubbornly and Allan knew this was going to be tough. Beth was strong willed and he guessed this blond girl was very much the same. If he'd been single and not in love with Beth, he'd have whisked the girl off her feet and fucked the arse off her all night. But he was married. Happily married. And all he wanted was his own wife, Beth. The girl tugged him by the arm towards a counter on a supporting pole had two fresh drinks perched on them. "I noticed you on the beer last night so I got you one. I hope that's OK?" she said. Allan smiled inanely. Christ, why couldn't she just leave him alone. He rushed the text and hit send, not noticing the signal from this part of the club was zero. The text message did not send. Allan tried not to get into conversation but the blond was very persuasive, using her charms and her curves o direct the dialogue. "Where's your other half, then?" she asked. Allan's wedding ring may have given him away and he really couldn't recall what they'd spoken about last night. "She's dancing" he said, making towards the balcony to look over the edge. The girl held his elbow. "So as she's deserted you, we've time for a little chat, then" she said forcefully. Allan hesitated just long enough for the girl to take control. "Good" she said, leading him to a quieter part of the club. "Tell me all about yourself" she commanded. This part of the club had leather sofa's and the music was such that you could talk without being drowned out. Allan was in no mood for small talk, his dearly betrothed was in the process of being pawed and poked by some dirty little oik and he objected. Hang on a minute. It had been Allan's idea in the first place, the entire fantasy thing had been solely his idea, hadn't it? So why was he objecting to Beth being groped by a stranger, it had been his own suggestion? He'd fantasised about Beth being taken, even fucked by a stranger. His own emotions went through the roller coaster ride it had earlier. Problem was, he wanted to watch and not chat to some big chested blond bimbo. "Well?" a voice interrupted his train of thought. He was brought back to the present, to his busty blond sat beside him. She stroked his leg with her hand, almost absent mindedly as she spoke. Allan felt very uncomfortable and wanted to terminate his conversation with this girl. He had to get back to the balcony, he needed to ensure Beth was not in imminent danger. Beth, meanwhile, was unaware of Allan's absence and she was still responding to Juan, thinking Allan was watching them both. She recalled how Allan had told her about the soft swing thing, how couples would swap partners and bring them to climax using their fingers and tongues, but not full sex. The thought of being intimate with a stranger repulsed her but the idea of getting someone aroused enough to turn them on was somewhat erotic. She remembered how it had enhanced their own love making and how she was getting aroused herself at the moment. She couldn't wait to get Allan in bed and give him a ride of his life. Who needs "E"? A wild imagination was enough to get her aroused and she could feel herself getting wetter between her legs as she danced. She desperately needed Allan's rock hard cock inside her and she wanted it now. She scoured the balcony, looking for Allan's face as she danced, unable to see him but quietly confident he was nearby. She was feeling really horny now. Where the fuck was he, that husband of hers? Maybe he'd gone to the gents, she pondered to herself, hoping that the only relief he was getting was from his bladder. She wanted to relieve him of the tension in his boxer shorts. She wanted cock and she wanted it now. Juan noticed the change in her mood, confusing her anxiety with passion. She was obviously exuding an aura or something which told Juan she was feeling really horny. "We go now" he told her, leading her by the arm to the exit. "We go to your place" he said, allowing her no opportunity to refuse. He lead her outside into the warm night air, the sudden lack of volume left her ears ringing slightly. Still holding her by one arm, Juan waved and snapped his fingers in the air until a dark Mercedes pulled up at the kerb. Juan ushered Beth into the taxi and he asked her villa address. She sat back whilst Juan gave the cabbie directions – not unusually, the cabbie was not local to the district, but frequented this part of town during the tourist season, making lots of money from drunk and unexpected tourists. Beth quickly tapped a text on her mobile, telling Allan to get back to the villa now. She hit send. Message sent. Juan sat back and saw her with her mobile phone. "What you doing?" he asked, his manner becoming confrontational. "Oh, just checking for messages" Beth replied. "No messages" Juan said. "Here. I switch off for you" he said, taking the phone and switching the unit off before handing it back to her. "Just you and me now" he said, grinning. Beth smiled back meekly, scared of this stranger. She was very uncomfortable with the situation now. Allan had better get back quickly, she thought. Allan, meanwhile, was still engaged in inane conversation with the blond woman he'd had an accident with the previous night. He kept glancing at his mobile, then over to the balcony. The girl was getting pissed off with his lack of attention. "Don't you fancy me? Are you gay?" she said at the top of her voice. People in the vicinity on the leather sofa's all looked up, conversation halting temporarily. Allan blushed a little and looked down at his drink like a chastised child. "Look" he began, "It's not that I don't like you, it's just that........." "Oh, forget it" the blond said, standing up quickly and knocking Allan's glass over his legs and lap before storming off into the crowd. "Thanks for returning my hankie" he replied flippantly. "Bitch" he thought to himself. Conversation slowly returned as Allan tried in vain to mop up some of the beer on his jeans. Suddenly, he remembered the urgency of Beth and he stood, racing to the balcony and peering over. His eyes scanned the dance floor to no avail. Where the fuck has she got to? Maybe she's in the toilet, he wondered. How could he find out? He could text her. It would be better if he phoned her, speak to her, to hear her voice. That would be good. He needed to hear her voice, to put his mind at rest. He looked at his phone. It still showed no signal. He made his way down to the dance floor, slowly scouring the faces and bodies at the venue. The security people had noticed his unusual behaviour and were keeping him under close surveillance. An overwhelming smell of beer emanating from him also alerted their suspicions. Allan's pulse began to race and his heart sank as he failed to locate either Beth or her new buddy. His stomach quivered like he had butterflies and he gasped in horror as his fears evolved in his mind. She'd gone. He wandered over to the ladies toilet and tried to approach a lady who was leaving to see if they could see his wife in there. The lady avoided being approached by some strange bloke reeking of beer outside the toilets so Allan tried to enter the Ladies toilets. Within a few seconds, the security guys had surrounded him. Allan had tried to explain his predicament, that his wife had possibly been abducted and he had to go into the ladies toilet to see if she was in there. The bouncers were bigger and beefier than Allan and when they barred his way, he considered using force but thought better of it. The language barrier didn't make matters any easier, either. "Will someone please just tell me if my wife is in there?" he screamed at security. They mis-read his body language and assumed he was just another drunken Brit and the ejected him from the club. His frenzied mind was in turmoil as he struggled against the fat and muscle that were ejecting him and he probably hurled some abuse at them. Allan wished he'd brushed up on his Spanish as they had said things to him that he assumed was profanity and threatening. The word "Police" he understood as he was thrown onto the pavement, his mobile phone falling out of his pocket onto the side walk. Allan stood up and nursed his bruised shoulder and considered going back and giving them some mouth. The pain in his shoulder suggested he should maybe just behave for the time being. He regained his breath then noticed the screen on his mobile was light. An inbound message. It was from Beth, telling him to get back home as soon as possible. He rang her number, wanting to speak to her. It seemed to take ages to connect. Allan was greeted by a recorded message in Spanish telling him the phone was switched off and to try later. He redialled with the same results. "Bollocks" he shouted to himself, looking around for a taxi. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 02 Chapter 7 Allan and Beth continued to enjoy their two weeks away. Ibiza was always one of their favourite haunts. They both worked very hard and so it was only natural that they played hard, too and the break was much needed by both of them. The warm Mediterranean sun had warmed their skin and lifted their spirits and despite the continual party environment, the atmosphere between Beth and Allan had altered. Allan was having trouble putting his finger on it, the change in Beth somewhat subtle yet, conversely, definite. There had been a shift in attitude that Allan had noticed since Beth’s involvement with Juan just a few days earlier. Beth had always enjoyed the attention she’d received, guys hitting on her in almost every situation imaginable, something that had happened to her since she hit puberty. To that effect, Beth had grown almost immune to it, enjoying the attention, her ego boosted by the inner knowledge that guys found her attractive and sexy. Beth had learned to capitalize on the attention, often going out for an entire evening and spending nothing more than her cab fare. Yet despite Beth’s experience of warding off the guys, beating them off with a shitty stick, her confidence had grown. Allan had noticed her over the last few days, his wife had experienced another man, a well endowed man and had received a mountain of attention. At first she had rebelled against it, rejected Juan before pretending he were her own wonderful husband. But then, things progressed further than she imagined and she’d ended up having full sex with this total stranger. Despite Beth’s loyalty and unrelenting love for Allan, she had allowed this stranger to take her, to have unprotected sex with her and, if that hadn’t been bad enough for Allan to witness, she had then taken the lead and fucked this stranger again, riding him like some porno star and again, without protection. Allan had discussed the matter with Beth, they both knew their relationship had changed, move to another plane from which there could be no going back. They either had to live with it or cut their losses and separate. Both had pledged their undying love to each other, and despite their marriage vows, “keeping only unto thee as long as you both shall live”, there was an unwritten agreement that both parties had been wrong, Allan for having coerced Beth into having sex out of wedlock in the first place, Beth for having agreed and then progressing the matter further, taking Juan again after he’d had his way with her. Beth had felt different although she had not admitted the fact to Allan, as that might be misconstrued as a sign of guilt. Sure, she’d lost control a bit but she felt that, in her defence, the opportunity to be fucked with an 11 inch cock was something she just couldn’t let pass her by, she might never get another chance. Yet emotionally, Allan was all she needed and all she wanted. But the power she’d experienced had really opened her eyes. Until now, she’d used the power to save her money in pubs and clubs, to get pissed on a shoe string as it were. But after her recent experience with Juan, it had dawned on her that maybe she could have more fun, not just prick teasing but taking the guy (or guys – the image made Beth smile) beyond, making him want her and she, Beth, having the power to make his day or ruin his life. She absent mindedly rolled her wedding ring up and down her ring finger like she was masturbating a man’s erection, lost in her own world within her mind. Her inner sexuality had been awakened and it was addictive, she suddenly realized she wanted more than just Allan. It had been 4 days since she had been fucked by Juan. Conversely, it had also been 4 days since she had reciprocated, she had fucked the Spaniard, her mind remembering only her role play, lost in the pretence and blissfully unaware of how wild she had acted, as wild as any evening when she’d had a pep from some E. Consequently, Beth had toyed with the boys to an extent that had surpised Allan. In fact, even their own love making had changed. To the voyeur, there may have been no noticeable difference, still as wild and intense, their actions hungry and demanding, yet subtly there were all sorts of changes. Beth had changed from demanding Allan make love to her, instead demanding now to be fucked. Beth had barely noticed her slow but definite evolution, almost like the changing of seasons where the weather gradually changes, a degree or so difference every few days and, before you know it, ground frost becomes sunshine. To Beth, she was still in spring, not realizing she was in summer mode and that she had changed, had become more confident, taking the lead in their sexual encounters, any shyness well and truly dissolved. This had emanated into her attitude when they had gone clubbing, proactively engaging in conversation, taking the lead, flirting as though her life depended on it. Beth had caught the bug. She had the power, her sexy curvaceous body, her confident manner and her come-to-bed eyes were able to melt even the strongest willed hot-blooded male. To that extent, Beth was patently aware, she felt more confident, she felt sexy and she loved that feeling. She loved the attention, more so than before and whereas she might have discouraged the guys hitting on her, now she was flaunting her self, advertising almost. But why? Beth had still been unable to work out her motivations. OK, it had been Allan’s idea for her to flirt, to lead the guy on and she had done it solely for Allan, her husband. Beth had felt disgusted with herself initially, the thought of having gone “all the way” with Juan and having been unfaithful to Allan who, by her own admission, she still loved dearly. Yet she had been so turned on, so aroused partly due to her and Allan role playing the swinging scene over the last few months. It was because of this that she had become so turned on, so aroused and so horny that she wanted just to have sex, to feel the release of tension that only a climax could offer. In Allan’s absence, Beth had gone into autopilot, so to speak, and Juan’s enormous erection had been in the right place at the right time. Beth had suggested to Allan, very politely, “any port in a storm” although, in reality, Beth would have gone ape-shit if Allan had done the dirty on her. Yet because Beth had imagined Juan’s cock was Allan’s, it had taken the edge off the unfaithfulness, made it seem OK and, as the idea had been initiated by Allan, her part in the whole affair had been minimal. She had tried to convince herself, and Allan, that it was all OK yet she knew Juan had been really turned on by her. Not just her pretty face, her curvaceous body and her sexy legs, but her attitude, her sexy dirty talk, her wildness between the sheets and general aura of being horny. Add to this the adrenalin rush she’d enjoyed looking at Juan as he had entered her, his look of delight, of satisfaction and total arousal. Despite the fact Beth had been mentally in role play mode, she still had her wits about her, her powers of observation not deserting her. She had witnessed, first hand, Juan’s excitement at Beth as she had sucked his cock, permitted him access to her soaking wet pussy, the passion as he had fucked her, their pleasure mutual, Juan’s eyes melting as his climax built, exploding in her pussy, cumming inside her, filling her pussy with his alien semen. Despite being unconscious for his second cumming, she had experienced her own climax on his monster sized erection, his rough pubic hair stimulating her clitoris, her pussy stretched beyond her wildest imagination. Beth had found Juan’s cock an amazing experience, her previously limited sexual encounters had never unearthed anything of this magnitude before. She and Allan had visited adult websites and had seen some images of humungous penis’ but she had always believed it was nothing more than trick photography. How could these things vary in size? She considered her female colleagues at work, all with varying bust sizes and realized that there could be some variation but without surgery, could a guy really be that big? Personal experience now told her it could. What a way to find out. Yet cock size was not necessarily her goal, although it had been very fulfilling (it had fully filled her anyway she thought to herself inwardly), it was more the desire of other guys to want her, to physically want her. She had come to realize that it had always been there, guys had always wanted to screw the pants off her but she never realized the extent of this desire and now she had experienced it, she wanted more. Lots more. It had been fun. Beth had relived the experience, role playing with Allan in such a way that he thought she was making up for her infidelity. In reality, Beth was play acting how she might arouse other men, how she might develop the prick teasing and how she would enjoy having her husband later. Her actions had become greater, more passionate and Allan had enjoyed the change in Beth yet he also feared what he was making her in to. Was he making her some sort of slut? Beth was his dear lovely wife, how could he make her into some cock-craving tart? What sort of shit-bag was he? He recalled how he had witnessed Juan entering his wife for the very first time, how disgusted he had felt yet so aroused. He’d stood stationary, absorbing the image before him like he was just a fly on the wall, watching some documentary on the TV. It had been an ironic realization that he’d felt powerless whilst Beth had felt powerful, the balance of power tipping in her direction, rather like some distorted political debate. Yet Beth had also become powerless as Juan had ravished her, her autopilot coming into effect to protect her own emotions and guilt. Allan pondered the consequences. On the plus side, Beth had become wilder in bed, more daring and adventurous, like constantly having some E. God, she’d become hornier than ever and he’d never had such a great time. Allan could safely say that their sex lives had never been better and the thoughts of her with some one else made him crave her even more. He desperately wanted to see Beth flirting, coming on to a guy, teasing him, arousing him in the same way she had with Juan. On the down side, she was not the same woman he’d married, her reservations and innocence lost, blown away in the wind. She’d grown closer to her own sexuality and Allan feared she may find the need for strangers cocks greater than the need for his own cock. Could he lose her? Would she want more than he could offer? Or was he panicking unnecessarily, that his fears were overtaking his rational thinking? Allan knew whatever Beth decided, he couldn’t help but love her and that his love for Beth was unconditional. He was also 100% positive Beth’s love was unconditional which was just as well as Allan was dreaming up another scheme. He had been so disgusted with Beth when she was with Juan yet, simultaneously, in awe of her. She had given Allan what he’d dreamed of, a living fantasy. Beth had performed what fairy godmothers are supposed to do, delivering a dream, “His” dream of his own dear wife being screwed by another whilst he watched. Allan knew that his dream also secretly consisted of her reciprocating, “fucking back” if you like and Beth had certainly delivered that, no doubt about it. Consequently, Allan had unknowingly become more passionate himself, his love making having more purpose, his mind imagining that night, just a few days earlier, when Beth had had her experience with Juan. Beth had also enjoyed Allan’s increased passion, loving her with greater intensity, fucking her like he meant it, trying to make Beth want no one else but him. And to a certain extent, Beth didn’t want anyone else but Allan. He was loving, caring, thoughtful, good looking and, at this moment in time, fantastic in bed. Yet still they both hankered for something else, an additional element which only a third person could offer. Was he becoming Cuckold? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Allan and Beth continued to enjoy their holiday, both aware that there were things in each others heads that had not been discussed and needed to brought out into the open. They both guessed the other was still dwelling on the Juan situation, the excitement and the angst yet neither wanted to be the first to resurrect the matter. To make matters more complex, both characters were very strong willed, neither prepared to give an inch yet, perversely, never wanting the other to feel oppressed. Beth had decided that it would be down to her to approach the matter and in much the same way Allan worked, she too had devised a plan. It was the night before Allan’s birthday and they had been out, the vodka’s had been flowing a little too freely and Beth was a little on the giggly side. Dressed in a flimsy skirt and baggy top, revealing her sexy cleavage, they’d partied for a while but had left the club early, returning to the villa to party on their own. Beth had initially been disappointed as she had been getting into the groove, as they say. She loved to dance, using the opportunity to display her sexiness and get a work out at the same time. More to the point, it gave her the opportunity to flirt which, in return, would make her hornier. Allan had lost count how many times they’d left a club having danced the night away, to Beth home to find her knickers soaking wet and tonight, not surprisingly, she was no different. The evening was very warm and despite the heat, her nipples protruded through her clothing and Allan though how lovely she looked. He put some music on the CD player and the beat began, Beth wasting no time and dancing straight away. She had always enjoyed dancing, even as a little girl, and she had all the moves, the latest dance moves down to all the cheesy ones like “Macarena” and so forth. No matter how cheesy the song, Allan could just sit and watch her dance all night, her hips swaying and his mind imagining those hips hovering over his own, lowering herself onto him, impaling herself on his erection. He guessed that with all the awards and prizes she’d won over the years for her dancing, she’d probably dance to anything and he could picture her dancing with Darren Gough on the TV and winning. But more importantly, he was dancing with her here and now and she looked damn hot. They’d enjoyed a bit of “E” earlier and, as always, it always made them both fucking horny. Beth had always enjoyed the sensation, feeling so happy and free, not a care in the world. She remembered that someone had once told her that when having sex, just lie back and think of England and thoughts of returning to dear old Blighty was more than a week away, another week to feel like this. Another week without having to get up early, go to work, pay tax……she suddenly felt sorry for the Chancellor of the Exchequer. “Hell, that must be the worst fucking job in the world” she thought to herself. Then the thought struck her. Shit, she was feeling sorry for the tax man. Crikey, that “E” must have been strong! Any stronger and she’ll start liking that Crazy bloody frog song! Beth moved to the music, her swaying body acting like a pendulum, hypnotic almost and Allan found himself lost in his own thoughts as his delightful wife danced before him. He joined her, dancing on the mat in the lounge area, the music resonating in his ears in rhythm to Beth’s slow seductive movements. Beth had sensed Allan’s mood and she danced nearer to him, her body swinging close to his, their hips missing each other by the minutest of fractions and she could see the material of Allan’s trousers tenting with his impending erection. Just like the guys in the club, Beth knew she was doing what she needed to, arousing her husband like she had done so many times before and how she had inadvertently aroused possibly thousands of total strangers over the years. Beth instinctively knew what was on Allan’s mind and she was feeling pretty horny herself. She raised her arms whilst dancing, her wrists close to Allan’s ears allowing him a perfect view of her bouncing breasts. She saw Allan gulp, swallowing the build up of saliva that had built up in his mouth, as though he could almost taste her. She moved around so Allan could see her cute little bottom wiggling, the short material of her skirt wafting around like a very short Marilyn Munro style, the motion of her dancing making up for the lack of a wind machine beneath her. Beth could feel her panties were soaking wet and she hoped that Allan was up for a busy night, she wanted him so much. She just adored the feeling of being wanted and she wanted him, no one else. But the difference was now Beth was in the driving seat, she was in control and she was going to tease Allan. He would be teased like she teased Juan. Allan would be treated to the same treatment as Juan, he would be teased and lead on, kissed a little, permitted a little intimacy before being encouraged to fulfill her first. There’d be plenty of time for Allan to be pleasured afterwards. Ladies first, she smiled to her self. This was a far cry from previously. This time last week, she’d have had to drag her husband out of the club and back to the villa for some rumpy pumpy. But her eyes (amongst other things) had been opened and now she enjoyed having “The Power”. This was going to be a long night as she ensured that she was totally pleasured and she, in turn would pleasure Allan. But Beth had a hidden agenda. She moved closer to Allan and Beth sensed his body heat as she danced nearer to him and she noticed his breathing was becoming laboured, not through the exertion of dancing, but with passion. Beth’s lips brushed against his cheek, the first bits of stubble gently scratching her face. “Allan” she whispered seductively. He looked at her drop-dead gorgeous face. “Mmm-hmm” he said, looking to plant his own lips on hers, wanting to taste the lip gloss or, even better, the woman attached to the lip gloss. “There’s a great night at tomorrow, Allan” she whispered, her words slow and sexy. “I thought for your birthday, we could go and celebrate.” Allan was lost in her scent. “If you like” he mumbled, his lips looking to nibble her ear. “I think you’ll like it” Beth said, allowing Allan access to her lips. Allan nibbled at her as she teased him with her mouth. “You think?” Allan muttered. His mind was on other things. “I know!” Beth said confidently. Allan sub-consciously noted her attitude, her character still strong only now, she had greater determination and felt comfortable with it. “Tell me” Allan said, his lips moving down to her neck, his kisses slow and gentle unlike the back ground music. “There’s a pool and a bar…” she began, enjoying the attention her neck was receiving, “…three dances areas, a VIP area playing the best in sexy dirty house, nude dancers, erotic lounges……” The dirty talk was getting Allan all hot under the collar and his kisses became firmer, his tongue licking the side of her neck as his hands rubbed Beth’s shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin against his fingertips. “……dress fetish if you wish, go bare if you dare” she said, recalling the advert that she’d seen all in a seductive manner and not for the first time, Allan wondered if Beth could make it doing sexy voice-overs for commercials. Allan’s kisses became more subdued. Patently aware of their escapades a few days earlier, he was not sure if he or Beth were up for this type of party. A week ago, he’d have jumped at the chance but now, he was in two minds. Allan recalled a report in one of the Sunday Tabloids where they reported on a bunch of crazy things that went on in this type of club, how there were no holds barred. It was a free for all, being with someone, even being engaged or married meant nothing, it was every man (or woman) for them selves. Yet despite his fears, Allan was also excited, the enjoyment of seeing Beth with Juan had been an exciting experience yet riddled with emotional trauma, for both of them. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 02 Allan looked into Beth’s dreamy eyes and noted just how beautiful she was. Irrespective of her sexy body and unquenchable lust, she was absolutely gorgeous. On a scale of one to ten, she was definitely an eleven! Yet within her eyes, he could see something more, a desire that went beyond needing him. Beth had difficulty concealing her feelings and she knew her eyes always gave her away. She could get away with it with most people, but she and Allan were on the same level, the same wave length and she would never be able to deceive him, he knew her too well. The thought of being able to strut her stuff in such an open atmosphere, where groping and fondling other people were the norm, where topless dancing was not restricted to just the paid dancers. Why stop at topless? Bring it on!!! Beth was strong enough to know that she could trust Allan in the presence of naked women and although he’d enjoy the view, she knew he would not stray. Maybe a playful tweak here or a grope there, but she was confident Allan was safe. But she loved the feeling of being watched, being wanted. Being wanted sexually, especially. God, just the thought of it was making her horny and she felt her self moistening even more. Dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes watching her, each pair of eyes connected to an ever increasing erection, all wanting sex with her, wanting to bury their firm cock’s in her pussy, the pussy she’d given only to Allan and,until recently, Juan. Following their role playing recently and the situation with Juan, she was positive Allan enjoyed watching her. She’d never have guessed he was a voyeur as such, although she was not complaining. They had become even closer, even if a little apprehensive, since the Juan situation just four days earlier. “You really want to go?” Allan asked, bringing Beth out of her train of thought. “If you’re up for it” she said, giggling and swaying her body close to his in a playful and seductive manner, her hand wandering down to his crotch and touching the bulge in his trousers. “You feel up for it!” she joked. Allan inserted his tongue in her mouth before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed and he noticed her cheesy grin. Beth was overjoyed that Allan had acceded to her suggestion. “I’m going to dance all night for you” she said, elated and Allan knew this was more than E. “How about you do a little dancing for me now?” he said, sitting on the bed expectantly. Beth needed no more persuasion, the music from the lounge drifting into the bedroom was sufficient for Beth to start swinging her hips, raising her arms and lifting the hem of her top, revealing her sexy curvaceous bust, the lacy bra barely concealing her beauty beneath. She shook and shimmied, knowing Allan would be lost within her dancing. Oh yes, she had the power and man, was she going to exploit it to her benefit. She slowly unzipped her skirt, hooking her thumbs into the belt straps and teasing Allan even more. It was all Allan could do to stop himself from drooling as he watched his sexy wife cavort before his very eyes and he knew just how lucky he was. “Do you think the guys will enjoy my dancing tomorrow?” she said, her voice taking on the husky tone that made her sound so appealing. “If you dance like that, I have no doubt” Allan responded, his eyes wide. He tried to reach for her but she playfully danced just out of his reach. “All in good time” she chastised, her skirt now around her ankles. Allan groaned outwardly. He loved her teasing him but he’d had enough teasing, he wanted her and he wanted her now. This very minute. Almost instinctively, Beth turned her back on him and danced backwards, her shoulders at his eye level. “Be a dear and unclip me, will you?” she asked. Allan reached up and unclipped her bra, helping her remove the material from her arms, his hands reaching around and cupping her breasts. Beth groaned subtly as Allan’s expert hands caressed her, his movements just as she liked. Firm but not too hard, stimulating the edge of her areola, his finger movements replicating the action of his tongue. She wiggled her bum towards his hips, lowering herself, feeling the unmistakable lump in his trousers and knowing in a short while, that would be buried deep inside her, making love to her, having wild passionate sex with her. Fucking her. Oh yes, she wanted to be fucked. Bollocks to sex, she wanted fucking. She wanted to fuck. She loved to fuck. She loved being fucked. She moved her arse over Allan’s groin and he moved one of his hands down to her wet panties, moving the material to one side to allow access to his fingers. He touched pubic hair and then her love lips, Beth gasping suddenly as he did so. The sensation of being touched aroused her, made her need him even more. Allan’s breathing was now overtaking him, his need and desire building. All he could imagine was Beth dancing and that it was someone elses fingers making her gasp, not his. “Is this how you’re going to dance tomorrow?” he asked, hopefully. “God, yes” Beth replied, writhing on Allan’s fingers, masturbating her self on his digits. “I think the guys will find it more erotic if you dance like this with them” Allan suggested. “Me too” Beth replied. Almost without realizing, Beth went into fantasy mode. “I’d dance with the guys normally, maybe topless. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” “Mmm” Allan responded. Yes he would. “Then maybe I’d get a bit warm so I’d loose my skirt” she continued. Beth was still sitting on Allan’s lap, her back to him yet he could sense her eyes were shut, conjuring up the image in her mind. “Then what?” Allan prompted. “Then I’d lap dance with him, like this” she said, accentuating her pelvic movements. “I’d take his hand and place it on my panties so he could feel the wetness……” she went on, pausing periodically as if living and telling the story in real time. “……that’d be nice. Then I’d let him put his fingers inside my panties and touch me…...” Beth moved Allan’s hand, “…ooh…just here” she said, her body jumping slightly as Allan touched the spot she wanted. Allan continued his finger movements and Beth traveled on towards her first climax. “You must be very hot by now” Allan prompted. “Mmm. I’d better loose these. You’d better help” she said, standing and lowering her panties, Allan being treated to a perfect view of her bum cleavage. Seconds later, Beth was naked. “What about the guy?” Allan asked. Beth moved her self so she was knelt in front of Allan. She liberated his erection in a few swift moments, noticing the pre cum on the head of his cock. “Ah, poor thing is crying. I think it wants kissing better” she said, taking her mouth and placing over Allan’s cock. Surprisingly, she tried to deep throat him from that position and whilst she’d been happy to try it before, it was only after Allan had talked her into it yet, tonight, she was taking the lead. Was it the new found confidence she’d discovered? Allan tried to contain the next question but instinct took over. “Did you do this to Juan?” he asked. There. He’d said it. “Mmm” came the reply. Allan knew it would be difficult for her to talk with a mouth full but knew the answer was yes. What he couldn’t fathom out was if Beth was confirming in reality or in fantasy. “Really?” he persued. “Mmm” came the reply. Before he could ask any more, Beth’s fingers had encupped his balls and she began to tickle his testicles, making his own climax re-emerge. “I’m gonna come in a minute if you keep doing that” he said. Beth disengaged momentarily. “Good” she said, resuming her position, her tongue working the shaft of his cock. “I bet you say that to all the guys!” Allan said, half in jest. His climax over-swept him, his own dirty talk and images in his mind toppling him over the edge, feeling his juices flood into his dear wife’s throat and almost directly into her stomach, not touching the tongue of the roof of the mouth until he finished ejaculating. Beth removed her mouth from him and pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top of him and kneeling over his face. “I’m going to call you ‘Jack Daniels’ from now on” Beth smiled down at him, noticing how, from that angle, her pussy hair made Allan look like he had a moustache. He looked at her quizzically. “Jack Daniels is a liquor. You’re my favorite licker!” she said, laughing at her own joke and writhing on his face, pressing her love lips against Allan’s nose so it would stimulate her clitoris. He lapped at her pussy, his tongue entering her with ease. Allan knew what Beth liked and he worked her pussy, his tongue like a windscreen wiper, moving from side to side, varying the depth of his tongue, his fingers and knuckles adding to her physical external stimulation. What was turning Beth on most, however, was the images in her mind, dirty dancing with some stranger, being watched and wanted, being groped and aroused, licking and sucking the stranger, bringing him to climax in her mouth then being licked and tantalized, cumming on the stranger’s face. Cumming on the strangers face. The image clung to her thoughts. “I’m cumming on a stranger’s face” she exclaimed as her body tensed and she reached her climax, leaving Allan in no doubt she was in fantasy mode. He felt her gush, a warm flow of her own juices tricking down his tongue and into his own mouth, swallowing in much the same way that she had swallowed him. Beth rolled off of Allan and they lay together, side by side for several minutes. They looked at each other then Allan smiled at her. “What’s the cheesy grin for?” Beth asked. “Oh, you know” Allan replied in his usual casual manner. She gave him one of her stern looks. “Then what?” Allan asked. Beth understood. “Then….” Beth said, kissing her husband tenderly, “…….I’d come and find you, tell you all about it so you could bring me home and fuck me.” “You’d want me to fuck you?” Allan replied, playing the game. “Mmm” Beth responded, climbing on top of her husband and pinning his arms down against the mattress. “Like this.” Beth lowered her hips onto Allan’s cock which was regaining it’s firmness. Allan rolled Beth onto her back so he was on top. “Wouldn’t you prefer it like this?” he asked. She rolled back on top of him. “This way is better” she smiled. Beth loved it when they fooled around during sex. Love making could be so ruddy clinical at times, so it was nice to make it fun and, anyway, they had a similar sense of humor, they were on the same wave length. The rollicked and fucked for several hours, the alcohol, atmosphere and effect of the “E” adding to their pleasure and sensations before exhaustion got the better of them, falling asleep on top of the sheets. The stereo played on into the morning. Chapter 8 Beth was the first one to wake up and she showered and prepared some toast and fresh OJ, turning the volume on the stereo down to a more acceptable level. Allan eventually surfaced, his mood changing to one of delight when he saw Beth had prepared Breakfast. His delight was probably more that she was wearing the tightest of T shirts, bra less and she filled the T shirt perfectly. He felt the stirrings down below and his thoughts wandered onto the evening ahead. “Happy Birthday!” Beth said, giving Allan a big hug, pressing her self against his naked body. He reached for her buttocks but she pulled away. “You’ll have to wait for your present until tonight!” she said, playfully. Allan smiled. Hell, he was looking forward to it. Little did he know that Beth was looking forward to it more than he was. “I’ll need to go shopping shortly” she said, placing some food in front of him. “Why?” Allan asked, scraping a burnt bit off his toast. “I’ve nothing to wear for tonight” Beth said, looking at him in her sly, sexy way. Allan’s heart melted. He knew that look and he couldn’t bear to disappoint her. And Allan knew she wouldn’t disappoint him, whatever she bought. “You know what I like, I’ve seen a lovely boutique in town” Beth continued. “What have you got in mind?” Allan interrupted. Beth smiled. She had won. She’d always had that power! “Just you wait and see!” she said, disappearing into the bedroom. She reappeared a couple of minutes later, having found some shorts to compliment her top. “See you about 4ish” she said, taking her purse and giving him a wave of the fingers, then blowing him a kiss. “Toodle pip” Allan replied, sinking his teeth into his toast. “Argh, yeuck!” Allan coughed. Spitting out his toast. It was burnt on the underside, too! Allan reached for the OJ, hoping it would take the taste away. Allan wondered if tonight would be as Beth had indicated or if this, too, would leave a nasty taste in his mouth. The cab journey seemed to take for ever. The club was on another part of the island which was renowned for it’s night life. Ordinarily, they’d base themselves nearer but this year, short notice and all, they’d had to slum it a few miles further away. Allan had already had a couple of drinks, stiffeners to prepare him for the night. And tonight, who knows how it will develop? Allan guessed it might be quite some night, judging by Beth’s attire. She’d certainly gone to town in more ways than one, her outfit was unbelievable. She had not allowed Allan a look at her until she was ready, spending more than two hours in the bathroom preparing her self. Hair and make up all had to be perfect, legs and bikini line all shaved and smooth, perfume in the right places and outfit. Allan was getting frustrated waiting for Beth, pacing up and down like an expectant father outside the bathroom. He’d guessed Beth would be dressed to astound and the tension had got to him. Allan had raided the fridge, the alcohol was aimed at calming his nerves but also as something to do, a distraction. He hated waiting, he was so impatient. Beth had teased him previously, stating he had “Less patience than Dr Harold Shipman!” Allan had ignored her black humor but her words echoed in his mind. He just hoped the wait was worth it. “Silly bugger” he said to himself. Of course it would be worth the wait. Beth had never failed him yet. Allan knew Beth could wear a black bin liner and still look sexy, she was that sort of lady. The bathroom door lock was slid open and the door handle turned. Allan looked at the doorway as the door opened and his jaw fell. Well, what could Allan say? “Wow” he said, his lips purposely accentuating the sound. Stunning was too inappropriate to describe how Beth looked. Yes, the wait had been worth it. Well worth it. Allan felt the stirrings of an erection in his pants as he stood, mesmerized by Beth’s beauty. Beth glowed, her smile adding to the confident look and had Allan not known her, he might well have felt intimidated by her. She gave a little twirl and grinned. “How do I look?” she asked, as if the “Wow” wasn’t enough. Beth felt like a million dollars and, judging by the bulge in Allan’s trousers, she knew it was just right. But she wanted to hear him say the words. Her top was, at best, revealing bordering on obscene and Beth thought if she bumped into any pensioners, her attire might just give them a fatal coronary! The top was so flimsy, so skin hugging, so low cut, so revealing………Allan gulped. Her ample breasts protruded though the material, the outline of her lacy bra underneath indicating there was not a lot of material involved in the garment, her already pert nipples pressing against the material, trying their hardest to be noticed and succeeding. Beth saw Allan’s eyes wander down to her lower half, her skirt a little more than a minge pelmet, barely covering her panties even when she was stood up and could have been mistaken for a wide belt. Beth had trimmed her pubic hair and through the thin lace of her panties, Allan could just see the lower part of her pussy hair. Her vaginal lips protruded through the skimpy material leaving little to the imagination. He would later find out that she had purposely shaved her pubic hair into the shape of a heart. Her cute buttocks filled her tight panties which Beth had purposely purchased a size smaller than she fitted, accentuating her shape even more. Her bare legs were divine, finished off by a pair of high heeled sandals. “Fuck me!” Allan whispered out loud, more of a statement than a request. “Later, darling” Beth giggled, waltzing over and giving him a snog. The aroma of her perfume mingled with the scent of her moist pussy and she oozed sexiness. Allan wanted to cancel the evening, he wanted to stay here and make love to Beth. What better birthday present could he want? “C’mon” Beth urged, bringing Allan back to reality. She opened a drawer and took out some Euros and placed them in her tiny clutch bag. “Let me see if I’ve got everything? Cash, lipstick and phone. Yup, that’s it!” she declared. Allan gulped and Beth thought he looked a little pale. “Are you OK?” she said, concern in the voice but checking her hair in the mirror at the same time. Allan guessed that even if he did cry out feigning sickness, she’d still go and have a good time. He’d better go, just to keep an eye on her. “Yeah, fine” Allan lied. He put his hand in his pocket and checked for his own mobile phone, knowing he’d only just taken it off charge. “Same rules as before?” he asked. “Sure. No interrupting. Remember, I’m in control tonight, OK?” Beth confirmed, no humor in her face. Allan had seen her serious side and knew not to challenge her, especially now she had adopted a more confident and positive attitude. She’d always been strong willed, even more so now. That had been half an hour ago and the cab was just pulling up outside the club. Allan paid the fare, thinking the fare was quite reasonable, aware that the cabbie had been checking out his wife’s pussy in his rear view mirror en route. Either the cabbie was still in a daze or he’d offered a discount for the view. Either way, Allan was happy to be out of the cab. They stood on the side walk, noticing the characters that were queueing to get in to the club. People were dressed in all sorts of outrageous clothing, one guy trying to portray the “Freddie Mercury” look, tash and all. Several of the girls were dressed in skimpy PVC outfits, busts bursting from the seams, others were dressed in leathers of every kind. Some ladies had dressed normally but removed some of their ‘sensible’ outer clothing once inside the venue and they were strutting their stuff in their bikinis, many of which were little more than strings, material barely covering their nipples. A dozen or so girls were already topless and getting heaps of attention from all the guys and even from a few of the girls. Natural blondes, bleached blondes, brunettes, red heads, silicone implants, natural breasts, there was a selection of everything. Fat girls, thin girls, multi racial girls, everyone. The guys were every bit as outrageous, one guy wearing a towel around his lower half like a nappy, an attempt at a crown of thorns on his head, trying to look like a Roman emperor, another wearing jeans with the back side cut out and Allan guessed maybe the guy was gay or bi. Inside, the party was going strong and everyone was having a great time. The bar was fully occupied and a smell consistent with “Weed” wafted through the air. Beth noticed how despite all the action going on, she was turning heads. She wasn’t even topless yet, although there was very little left to the imagination, but she was drawing loads of attention. Her head felt light and buzzy and she wondered if the weed in the atmosphere was getting to her. Allan yelled something in her ear which she didn’t quite catch. The music was very loud and she was lost in her own little world for a time, but she’d guessed that Allan was going to get some drinks and sniff out some “E”. He was good at that and very discrete too! Beth reflected on how lucky she was to be married to Allan, he was so considerate, loving and kind. But more than all of that, he loved her. And despite of recent activities with Juan, he was still the doting hubby that she married. Yes, she was lucky, she wouldn’t trade him for anyone. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 02 Beth nodded her head at her own thoughts and anyone watching her would have thought she was getting into the music. But her mind was clear in the fact that she and Allan were forever. He was perfect……….although……….Beth’s mind wandered. Juan! He was a useless shit in bed, a lousy kisser and very rough. Beth wondered why Allan was so keen on her getting it on with other guys, wasn’t she enough for him? Crickey, they’d tried every possible position in the book, they’d done it in a number of outrageous places, they’d shared various porn web-sites together and she’d even acceded to his requests to live out his fantasies. So what was missing? Beth mentally scratched her head in wonder. She had no idea, she doubted she’d ever be able to understand men and their dodgy hormones! But she questioned her self as to why she had gone along with this unusual behaviour, to live out his fantasy. Beth delved deep into her own psyche and found the answer which she’d known all along. She loved Allan, no matter what and she was happier with this then him going off with some floozie and doing the dirty on her. Beth knew she couldn’t bear to loose him, she needed him so much. She’d do pretty much anything to keep him, to stop him running off with some old tart and, in fairness, she’d given more than she believed was possible. She’d only gone all the way with Juan due to circumstances, she’d never planned to and it had happened as a result of keeping her hubbie satisfied. Which he had watched and not interrupted. Beth shook her head, hoping the physical movement would dislodge her thoughts. She tried to focus on other things, where was Allan with her Vodka red bull for a start. Still her mind kept wandering back to Juan and how she’d been coerced into being fucked by him. “Watcha, Im Si. You with anyone, darlin’?” a voice said and Beth turned round to see some short, cocky looking Londoner with tatty jeans and a “Teenage Ninja Turtles” T shirt. “Yes” Beth said confidently. “Oh yeah?” the Cockney replied. “Who’s that then?” Beth was aware that the little shit was trying to call her bluff. She saw a bunch of guys a few yards away, all quite stocky and strong framed. Beth nodded towards the group. “Bromsgrove Rugby squad” she replied in a matter of fact way. “My husband is scrum half and his brother is the hooker”. The cockney’s face paled slightly and to make sure he got the message, Beth waved at one of the group who was looking at her. Of course, dressed as she was, she got a big smile and a wave back. “I’ll see ya later, then” Si said, skulking away back into the madding crowd. Beth breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank heavens she knew a bit about rugby. She hated all this six nations stuff but seeing 30 well built blokes running around in shorts had its advantages, she thought to herself. A few moments later, Allan appeared with the drinks, almost bumping into a couple with punk chains attached to various parts of their bodies, much of it hidden beneath underwear. Beth was delighted that he’d been able to acquire some “E”. They chilled for a bit, taking in the pulsating beat and watching the clubbers dancing, performing actions which, had they been horizontal, might have been obscene. Thrusting hips and gyrating limbs filled the dance floor and as the dance tracks progressed, so did the volume of bare flesh. Beth grabbed Allan and lead him to the dance floor, strutting her stuff to the beat, her body swaying and her breasts swinging. Beth noticed, not for the first time, the amount of eyes on her and she rose to the challenge. “If they want a show, I’ll give them a show” she said to herself. It was her husband’s birthday and she wanted to give him a birthday he’d never forget. She’d later realize just how unforgettable this birthday would be for him. But just because it was Allan’s birthday, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun, too. After 20 minutes, she lead Allan off the floor. The alcohol and “E” were kicking in and she was in overdrive mode. “You wanna watch for a bit, sweetie?” she asked. “You think I’m not up for it, Miss funnyfanny” Allan replied, doing his Sean Connery as James Bond impression, his poor Scottish accent actually worse than his Australian accent. Allan and Beth often went into abstract character mode, their humor being on the same level. “It’s not logical, captain” she replied, her hands by her ears as though impersonating Dr Spock. “Who you gonna dance with?” Allan replied normally. Beth looked around and saw a guy, flamboyant in his dancing and wearing the same outrageous clothing that the Village People used to wear. “I want that one” she said in her best “Little Britain” voice, pointing to the gay bloke. Allan smiled, knowing she was 100% safe with this guy. “See you in a bit” he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. Beth went to walk away but Allan held on to her elbow. She turned back and looked at him. “You look gorgeous” Allan said. “I love you”. Beth smiled, blew him a little kiss and walked off, her arse wiggling as she went. Allan felt the pangs of loneliness yet the adrenalin rush of erotic excitement. What would tonight bring forth? Time would tell. Beth and Allan were loving the night that had had plenty to drink Beth felt free she had loved dancing with Allan and loved the music going on around her. Allan was aware of all the guys looking at his wife. He felt angry at them, they way they ogled her like a piece of meat, flesh to be fucked. She was looking really hot and was turning guys on just by her dancing in the clothing that she wore. Allan felt that maybe she was degrading herself, she deserved better than these animals that were leering at her. She was no easy lay, she was his woman, no-one else’s. Yet he perversely wanted them to ogle her, to desire her, to get a major erection, to feel the need. And as Allan watched some of the other ladies dancing, he, too had felt some eroticism towards them, but only in the “Blimey, she’s horny” way. Not a “I’d like to fuck the arse off her” way. How dare these animals behave in that way with his wife. She still wore his wedding ring for crying out loud. Yet it was the fact that they were leering that aroused him. He wondered if he really was some sort of deranged pervert, wanting to see his wife get off with another guy. Was it normal? His buddy from work seemed to think it was. Allan was half expecting Beth to be inundated with a plethora of lewd comments and maybe that was sick for him to want that to happen to his dearly beloved.. It wasn’t sick, it was hot, it was sexy, it was erotic……… Allan wondered what he had let himself in for and, more to the point, what had he introduced his dear innocent wife to? Yet he felt no guilt at this point, just desire. Was it the “E” kicking in. “Bollocks” Allan said to himself and walking to the bar. Another drink might help clear his mind of thoughts. His mind wandered back to that evening, less than a week ago, when he’d watched helplessly from the doorway as his dear lovely wife was fucked by this total stranger. He recalled he had felt like being physically sick yet he had not moved, he had stood, rooted to the spot like a rabbit in the headlights on an oncoming truck. He had wanted it to stop whilst, simultaneously wanting it to continue. Right now, the “E” was in his system and Allan was starting to feel a bit high, the emotional roller coaster no longer an issue. He was chilling out and Allan wondered what life might be like if he hadn’t met and married Beth. He wondered if he’d ever be happy or if he’d be permanently reliant on uppers like “E” to keep him going. Beth had made such a change to his life and now, through his own bloody stupid fantasies, he’d turned his wife into a totally different person and he wondered if he’d be able to love this new “Beth” to the same extent as the old Beth. “Course I bloody well can” he said to himself under his breath. Why should he worry, she loved him and that was all that mattered. OK, so she’d bonked some stranger, it wasn’t as though it had been behind his back. She may not have known he was there at the time, but Beth would never actively do something behind his back, there was a level of unwritten trust between them. Allan relaxed, his thoughts gaining clarity and he put it down to common sense although he wondered if the “E” had helped him come to these realizations. Within minutes, any depression or anxiety had disappeared and Allan watched the revelers as they frolicked the night away, enjoying the scene before him, scantily clad women of all sizes (some were absolutely gross!) and guys rising to the bait, hoping the next tune would be the lambarda or some other intimate dance. “Hiya hunky, fancy a dance” a familiar voice whispered. Allan turned round and saw Beth, her face flushed and sporting a large cocktail of some sort. She smiled at him and he gave her a peck on the cheek. Beth wanted to give Allan much more but Allan shied away, wondering if anyone watching might catch on to their tricks and he wanted to enjoy the evening. If he kept the contact like sister and brother, it might not cramp their style. Beth was beaming all over and Allan could see she was having a great time. “What have you been up to?” he asked, expectantly. “I’ve never had so many guys want to dance with me or buy me drinks” she giggled, sipping at her cocktail. “I wonder why that is?” Beth’s eyelids fluttered seductively. “I don’t suppose the way you’re dressed has anything to do with it, does it?” “Maybe!” Beth giggled some more. “Everyone’s looking at me and they’re all sporting big boners” she said, leaning forward and whispering in Allan’s ear. “They all want me, they all want to fuck me and it’s turning me on like crazy” she added. Despite the thick smoke in the club and the slight aroma of weed, he could smell her moistness and Allan felt himself join the unofficial boners club. “You want to play a game, then?” Allan asked tentatively. He hoped she would decline but if she did, he’d feel disappointed. Allan’s pulse began to race and he began to redden in the face, not quite blushing but heated with excitement. “If you’re up for it, I’m game” she said, her eyes wild and alive. Allan wondered if she’d had any more “E” since before or if someone had been spiking her drink. Allan suddenly had a brainstorm. He hadn’t a clue where the idea originated from and if it was the by product of the drugs, the booze, the atmosphere or his own wild imagination. “Give me your hand” he said. Beth obeyed, swaying slightly and Allan had temporary second thoughts about his idea. Beth steadied herself and Allan removed her wedding and engagement rings from her finger and popped them into her clutch bag. “Here’s the storyline” he said, noticing Beth was looking at him sternly but it was only her trying to concentrate with her mind spinning with alcohol. “Well, we could pretend your single and that your on holiday with your brother. That’s me” he said, pointing his thumb at his own chest. “You could dance on your own, get flirty with guys that sort of thing.” There was a short pause whilst the information sank into Beth’s intoxicated mind. “Mmm, sounds good so far. You’d make a ruddy good pimp, you know!” she said, trying to suppress a hiccup. Beth’s mind went off at a tangent, thinking through the scenarios and the fun she could have, toying with the guys, teasing them, leading them on, arousing them, torturing them with the possibility but nothing more than that. With Allan watching from the wings, she’d be safe enough and it’d turn Allan on for certain. He’d have a great birthday getting off watching her, then he’d take her home and punish her with his big stiffy. What a plan, she thought to herself. Add to that, she could control not just these guys but also her hubby, getting him to satisfy her before she permitted him direct pleasures although, just to maintain his interest, she’d give a little back! She wondered how she could be this evil to her own husband but the thought lasted no time at all, the wickedness of the idea and the fun she would enjoy was the stronger emotion. She could feel herself getting wet at the idea and the thought of Allan watching her cavort with a bunch of strangers, many of which were barely clad made Beth even more excited. “Will you be watching?” she asked, her voice taking on an element of sultriness. “You bet!” Allan responded, excitedly. Another live show of his dear lovely wife wearing almost nothing dancing and partying with all the other folks was about as good as it could get. Beth could see the excitement in his eyes and she grinned, knowing she would be able to deliver, she would be able to give her hubby a show he’d remember and, provided he didn’t get too pissed or stoned, he’d repay her later between the sheets. Yes, this was going to be one hell of a birthday. “You know the rules?” she said in a commanding tone. “I have my phone but you mustn’t interrupt, you understand?” she said, not waiting for Allan to respond. Allan nodded slowly. “Shit! That’s going to drive me nuts!” Allan said. He looked disappointed but he knew there was little point arguing. He’d made the suggestion in the first place and Beth had agreed, willingly not reluctantly. He guessed it was only fair that he acceded to her simple request. “OK!” he said, resignedly, a veil of red mist in his eyes. “But we’ll keep in contact by text, OK?”. Beth nodded in agreement although Allan was not overly sure if she was just nodding in her slightly stoned, slightly pissed state. “Good. See ya later!” she said, wiggling her fingers as a goodbye, blowing him another little kiss as she turned to walk off. She stopped briefly and said “See if you can find me!” and gave him a sly little wink before running her fingers through her hair in the seductive way that she had. Allan watched her as she disappeared into the crowd and wondered if it were the drink or the shoes that made her so unsteady. Hell, she was driving him crazy, he wanted her all to himself yet he wanted to share her, he wanted to see other guys thinking they were doing great with her only to find she’d leave them and spend the night with him and only him. Although……..visions of her and Juan flitted into his mind and he felt the stirrings in his loins. Allan closed his eyes and blinked incessantly for a few moments until the image dissipated. Allan regained his senses and, seconds later, he saw Beth on the dance floor, a gaggle of guys around her, one in particular was a tall slim guy with a shaved head and a spiders web tattoo over his eyes. Allan watched with interest, forgetting about the fire water in his glass, totally engrossed in the spectacle before him. He noticed Beth’s shapely legs as she strutted on the floor and how well toned they were, not least from the amount of exercise they had pulling and pressing on his own thighs, pulling him deeper into her. Those legs brought on a thousand fond memories and Allan watched, his jealousy tinged with a little sadness but laced with perverse pleasure. He tried to convince himself that he was disgusted but passion and lust were the over riding emotions. What the heck was wrong with him, his mind spun more than a political debate as he pondered the consequences of his suggestion which Beth was now executing with clinical accuracy like a Tomahawk cruise missile. Allan watched the effect Beth was having on him. All of the guys around her bore looks of lust as she danced with them, dancing closer and more intimately than you might reasonably expect even to the fast tunes. Allan shook his head, his body language saying “No” yet his inaction saying “Yes”. He could walk over to the dance floor, take her by the arm and lead her out of the club, into a cab back to the villa and lock the door behind them. Yet he didn’t. And it was this pulling of emotions that drove him crazy. Allan watched on. Beth was really getting into party mode, she herself uncertain as to her motivation. Was it partly to please Allan who she loved dearly and wanted to please more than anything in the world. Or could it be that she was motivated by the alcohol and the “E”. Maybe, just maybe, she was motivated by her own ego, the ability to create a thousand hard-on’s in a matter of minutes and, dressed like this, she’d achieve her goal in record time. Beth’s dancing got wilder, throwing her head around and loosing herself in the beat and, consequently, she received lots of admiring looks. Several guys tried to hit on her and Beth was able to handle herself comfortably. One guy had tried his luck, trying to look suave in a white dinner jacket but with tight leather trousers, his bulge accentuated in his attire. Beth had danced with the guy until he’d whispered something suggestive in her ear. Beth was not one to hold back. “Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed!” she said, smiling. Her dance partner looked at her, his feelings hurt. “C’mon baby, let’s get it on, just you and me” he said, trying to be cool. “Maybe!” Beth said, pausing for effect. “But you’d be in with more of a chance if you had some personality!” “Whadya mean?” he replied, getting angry. “You’re not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?” Beth said, running her hand along his chin. “Anyway, I tend not to date outside my own species!” she added, waving a goodbye to him with her fingers and disappearing into the madding crowd, leaving the prospective date aroused and frustrated. Beth enjoyed that feeling of leaving a guy frustrated, wanting her so desperately. God, the power she had over men, it was awesome! Another guy with a number 3 hair trim and a St George Cross shaved into his head tried his luck, his accent obviously from the West of England, his accent making him sound a little dim, even though he was probably a nice guy. He dressed in a vest top, trying to give the impression he was toned when he was actually a little over weight. “Too many carrots” Beth had joked to herself and named him “Wurzel!” Wurzel had tried desperately to get Beth to dance close to him, wanting a feel of the soft luscious body but Beth had other ideas. Leading him on was a fantastic turn on for her, noticing his sweating brow and flushed face, adding to the discomfort of the lump in his pants. He had blatantly asked her if she’d go outside with him and give him a blow job (obviously he was not in possession of a VIP pass) and Beth had laughed. “I wouldn’t waste this make up and clothing on you!” Beth had retorted, enjoying watching the guy squirm. “No need to be sarcastic!” the guy had replied. “Oh, sarcasm is the only service I can offer you, sweetie!” she said, turning her back to him and wrapping her arms around the nearest guy she could find, allowing herself to be kissed by the stranger, the taste of cognac on his tongue. When she disengaged, Wurzel had disappeared. A guy with dark hair with a white skunk like streak (rather like Kevin Pietersen) started hitting on her, dancing next to her, giving her smiles and come-on looks. Beth responded, dancing provocatively close to him, making her breasts sway like balloons in a gale, noticing his eyes fixed to her chest and moving in a hypnotic fashion. He was obviously enjoying the view, the growth within his tight white trousers giving the game away. Beth knew she’d hooked him and now she was reeling him in like an unsuspecting carp, taking the bait. Beth put her arms around the guy, almost like a bear hug, trying to dance slow to a fast track, pressing her firm and erect nipples against the bare flesh of his chest which was visible from his fashion shirt which was tucked in but unbuttoned to the navel. The guy responded, trying to grab a handful of bum but Beth wriggled a bit too much for the guy to get a good grip. He kissed her neck and whispered things in her ears. Judging by his accent, she guessed he was from Northern Ireland and she subconsciously noted not to make any political statements which might cause friction, like “Which network is your mobile on? Orange?!” Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 03 Chapter 12 The months passed and the seasons changed, yet the passion and love between Beth and Allan merely grew, their relationship strengthening like your grip on the arm of the dentists chair. Infidelities were ignored and love blossomed. Interestingly enough, the fantasies and role plays continued, although with a more subdued approach but the consequential result was the same. Fucking good sex! Who needed soft swing anyway? Beth and Allan shagged as though their lives depended on it, that Oxygen was second only to ravishing each other's bodies at any conceivable opportunity. And they took most opportunities. The sauna at a well known plush hotel in Hinckley was probably their most adventurous, the glass door from the pine-wood sauna room allowing passers by wandering to and from the pool an ideal angle to see Allan enter Beth from behind, lifting her bra top over her globes and fondling her tits whilst pounding her cunt. Or the event of a quiet drink one Sunday afternoon by the river Avon when Beth had given Allan a hand (or a hand job to be more precise) under the picnic table at a local pub. Beth had grown in confidence, wearing skimpy underwear was once something kept simply in the bedroom but recently, Beth had taken to wearing many of the items of lingerie Allan had bought her as everyday underwear items. These, combined with her usual wardrobe of sexy clothing, had increased her sexuality, made her even more of a sex icon as they wandered round the Bull-ring shopping centre on a Saturday or as they strolled around many of the local beauty spots. She even looked dashing when she went with Allan to watch the football, despite her teasing Allan that his favourite soccer team should be called "Aston Villa nil!" It was their similar tastes to life in general, their similar sense of humour and their total devotion to each other that set them apart from the crowd. Their relationship had become stronger, their love had evolved into total bonding and they were inseparable. Not to say they didn't have their own friends and socialised separately, but they needed each other as much as a junkie craves crack. Except Allan craved a different sort of crack! Beth's! Sure, they had their spells of bickering as well, which is normal and healthy in any type of relationship. It only added to the strength of their relationship and their love flourished. It was a cold and miserable Saturday morning and Beth had surfaced from her slumber, donning a dressing gown and picking the post from the door mat. She opened the white envelope because it didn't look like the brown envelopes which were usually a demand for money. It was a wedding invitation. A cousin was getting married in Jamaica. Wow! Both she and Allan were invited. Beth had yearned to go to the Caribbean and this was the perfect opportunity. Beth's mind began to wander, visions of silver sand and crystal clear water, the sound of jet ski's and the taste of coconut rum, a gentle breeze blowing in over the Gulf cooling the effects of the sun on her scantily clad body. Heaven! It would be as far away from the Midlands of Britain as she could want to be, a week or two of relaxation without the local pressures of work and routine. She'd heard there were some pretty good clubs out there, too as the locals were so chilled out which was in total contrast to the climate. Visions of tall local lads dressed in sleeveless shirts playing basketball flitted into her mind, the taste of freshly caught local fish. In Beth's mind, she'd already landed and cleared customs! A change of scenery would be just what she needed right now, a chance to catch up on some reading, writing letters, re-assembling her thoughts. The last few months had been a period Beth would rather not have happened yet somehow, she was pleased that it had, the result having moulded her attitude and approach beyond previous belief. What the heck was wrong with her? Nothing was wrong. But she did feel different. Mentally different, that is. Confidence was always part of her personality yet she seemed truly confident, more definite in her total approach to life. Had she just been putting on an act, pretending to be confident? Beth still couldn't work it out in her own mind, but whatever the result, she felt a million dollars. Being totally infatuated with her husband may well have had something to do with it. Beth placed the invitation back in the envelope as she padded into the kitchen and absent mindedly switched the kettle on, almost like she was on auto pilot. Her body was here in the kitchen but her mind was thousands of miles away, soaking up the sun on the beach. She sat at the breakfast bar, gazing out of the window, the dull overcast clouds making the Saturday morning gloomy, the remnants of the previous shower still dripping down the kitchen window, endeavouring to bring Beth back to reality. She pulled a mild grimace on her face as her warped mind mulled over the weather forecast from the previous evening, the forecaster describing the general synopsis as a large depression over the region. She laughed to herself but the laugh had no humour in it. Depression summed up not just the weather but her emotions at that moment. Beth turned the envelope in her hand over and over on the surface of the table and her smile returned but this time, with genuine delight. "Jamaica" she whispered to herself. "Jamaica". Her eyes glazed over in her daydream, the rivulets of rain on the window pane no longer visible, her mind saw beyond the glass, beyond the visible horizon. Palm trees and lush hills, the sound of distant reggae music and motorcycles rung through her ears, drowning out the sound of the electric kettle boiling and switching itself off. Allan surfaced half an hour later, the vacant space in his bed forcing him to go in search of the woman who told him "I do". By this time, Beth was in a buoyant mood, swanning around the kitchen like Torvill and Dean. The CD player played a selection of classic Bob Marley tunes and Beth joyfully busied herself in the kitchen, creating some form of ginger cake judging by the aroma. "What's all this, then?" Allan asked, scratching his testicles as he yawned. "You sure know how to turn a woman on" Beth joked, taking in his unkempt hair. It's never like that in the Hollywood movies, everyone has perfect hair and make up, even after a night of passion. And she certainly couldn't imagine Patrick Swayzee or Hugh Grant rubbing their balls! Allan grunted and sat at the breakfast bar, wishing he could reach the CD player and turn the music down a bit. He'd had a few drinks the night before and maybe one or two too many. "Why the sudden burst of cooking and frivolity?" he asked, inspecting the dregs on Beth's coffee cup, hoping he's be able to drink hers instead of having to make his own. "Sorry for being happy and gay!........." she said, ".......or should it just be gay?......" Allan was not quite awake enough for that type of humour at this time of day, especially when his mouth felt as dry as a desert. "What have I got to do to get a cup of coffee around here?" he said, his voice humourless as his head pounded. "Oh, sorry dear....." Beth said, approaching him and squatting down until her eyes were level with Allan's. "......there's a button on the top of the kettle, switch it on and the water boils like magic!" and with that, she swanned off to the bathroom for a good long soak. Allan went to move off his stool and jarred himself. "Bollocks!" he cursed as he crossed the kitchen. Refreshed with copious amounts of caffeine, Allan eventually managed to get to the bathroom, Beth having occupied the place for so long, he thought maybe she'd been abducted by aliens. Her constant singing the words of the song "Uncle John from Jamaica keeps on calling every day..........." rattled around Allan's ears. To make matters worse, not only did Allan not particularly like the song, it was so darned catchy, he kept singing it to himself, making him even more pissed off. He looked at Beth, his eyes confused and uncertain. Beth, on the other hand, danced around the lounge like she was a member of the Bolshoi Ballet, her mood high and happy. She glided over to Allan, her smile beaming and radiant, handing him an envelope. Allan looked at her quizzically, his head tilted slightly. He hadn't seen Beth this motivated and happy for some time and it was a pleasant change. He read the card inside and nodded his head in much the same way that Courtney Walsh would do when he took a wicket. It was beginning to fall into place, the inclement weather outside and the mental picture of a Caribbean break made Allan burst into smile himself. They'd saved some money for a holiday but following their escapades on their previous break, they'd not actually got around to booking anything. "So, are we going or what?" Beth beamed, her smile as infectious as the flu. Allan tried to keep a stern face but poker face soon gave way to the grin that bloomed within. He grabbed Beth by the waist and twirled her round, nestling his face into her neck. "Bloody stupid question. Of course we're going" he replied, barely able to contain himself. They embraced, their lips meeting slowly at first but as the passion began to rise, so did the intensity of their kiss. Allan lowered Beth to the floor gently, smothering her body with his, pinning her to the carpet like a wrestler and Beth offered no resistance. On the contrary, she wrapped her legs around Allan, pulling him towards her, wanting the closeness of him pressed against her. Their tongues continued to wrestle with each other, their heavy breathing drowning out the sound of the rain beating against the window, the grey clouds overhead unable depress the feelings of the couple as clothes were unceremoniously removed, garments filling the air like a shower of linen. "Will we need any jabs for the Caribbean?" Beth asked after drawing breath from the elongated kiss. Allan smiled. "Don't know. But just in case, I'll give you an injection of my own" he said as he entered her. "Will I feel a prick?" she asked, jovially. Allan loved it when they fooled around during sex. "You might feel a bit foolish!" he responded. She slapped him playfully on his exposed buttocks. "Oh, I do hope it's a big prick" she whispered in Allan's ear. Allan continued but his mind started off at a tangent, his mind slipping back all those months ago when his lovely wife was fucked by Juan and his incredibly long penis in all her holes. Then Allan recalled with great intensity the blond haired Scandanavian, Kris, who's cock was so fat, it was bordering on being obese. (Or should that be obscene?). Whatever, Allan's mind had begun a train of thought which had his emotions negotiating the cape of good hope on a rubber dinghy. Beth moaned as Allan made love to her, her breathing was fast and shallow and his hips pumped into hers, their pubic hair entwining as they copulated. "Will you inject me with serum or semen?" she panted. Allan smiled. God, he loved her humour. His actions became more intense as they fucked, his entire weight pressing against her, causing her arse to rub against the carpet. "I thought we were flying to Jamaica. Now it feels like you're pushing me" she said as she found herself several feet across the carpet from where she started. Allan smiled. "We'd by at Plymouth by now if you'd stop pushing back into me!" he joked. Chapter 13 The weeks passed quickly and they found themselves touching down in Jamaica, the sun gold and warm, the sea crisp and clear. They disembarked from the long haul Virgin (rather inappropriately) flight wondering why they'd taken coats into the cabin with them, the rain from Britain long since forgotten. Warm friendly smiles greeted them as they made their way through the terminal and the ambience was one of serenity, the likes neither had ever experienced anywhere before, let alone in an airport. It may have been thirty Celsius outside but the atmosphere was totally chilled out. Allan wondered if he'd need his coat after all, to keep away the frostbite of their attitude! The taxi ride was a little strange, it was almost like being in Malta where the road users ignore the white line in the middle of the road, they drove in the shade because it was cooler. The mountains in the distance took on their own beauty and a cool breeze blew intermittently, taking the edge off the burning sensation of the piping hot sun. Locals on bicycles rode precariously close to cliff edges as they journeyed through the island. Beth and Allan barely spoke, both taking in the scenery and atmosphere, the island being everything they'd imagined it to be. Lush green hills contrasted with barren fields as they travelled towards their accommodation, a large complex owned by Harry, an uncle of the bride groom who had lived in Jamaica for some years. They'd originally lived in Barbados as rich land owners, having moved from the UK back in the 1960's. Harry had inherited some money and had invested it wisely, doubling his money in just 18 months. He'd sold up his business ventures and taken semi retirement in the West Indies and had enjoyed his life very much, operating a tourist business in Jamaica for the last 12 years. All bar 2 of those years, he'd enjoyed with Maria, his one and only wife and soul mate. Beth had recalled how she'd been told about their relationship and it was almost like a fairy tale, full of dreams come true and magic wishes. From a very early age, Beth had yearned for a relationship like that and had waited patiently for the knight in shining armour to appear. She'd found that in Allan. He, to her, was her knight in shining armour. He had been able to provide those dreams come true, the magic wishes. Allan had given her love, comfort and fun. He was a good bloke, decent, kind, caring, considerate, good looking and matched her sexual appetite. Harry had run a successful tourist business, everything from coach excursions to the hiring of jet ski's. Maria had been his faithful business partner, confidant and lover until two years ago when she was tragically taken by the angels, her body riddled with cancer which had left her either in so much pain or so heavily drugged she was unable to function. Harry had nursed her through her sickness and when she died, his world fell apart. He sold his business, taking a big financial loss in the process, but it got him away from people for a while. Being a white man in Jamaica was never going to be easy but he'd made many friends over the years and they'd supported him through his hour of need. Harry had resurfaced and was rebuilding his life, he owned a massive mansion on the more select part of the island and was renowned as being a local celebrity, not least for his resourcefulness. Still involved with tourists, Harry provided some creature comforts for those who felt home sick. A wide array of popular tea bags filled his small store together with typically British things like marmalade and Scots Porridge. It was a form of escapism as he kept all the things that Maria had loved in her life and by providing these goods, he was keeping her memory alive. Now Harry's niece was getting married, he'd offered the use of his large mansion to accommodate some of her guests she'd invited and Allan and Beth were honoured to be amongst them. The cab pulled up outside the electric gates and pressed the intercom. The gates opened and they drove up a gravel driveway, the tyres crunching as they approached the imposing white building. Two black lads dressed in white suits appeared and removed their baggage from the trunk, taking it up the steps into the building. Harry bounded down the steps, his movements belying his 66 years, looking like a man 20 years younger. Obviously the Caribbean way of life had suited him well. "You must be Beth" he said, holding out his arms for a hug. Beth had only met the man once when she was little and he'd visited the UK. His skin was tanned but very subtly but his accent was no longer Wolverhampton, it was pure Jamaica. Black country to black country in one foul swoop, she mused. "It's good to see you, uncle!" she said, genuinely happy to see the man. "Hey. It's Harry to you, OK? Less of the uncle!" he beamed, his chastisement nothing more than good humour. "And who's dis gentleman?" he asked, knowing full well Beth had been married 2 or 3 years now. "Allow me to introduce my husband, Allan" she said, her palm indicating to Allan who was still taking in the surroundings. "Good to see you, fellow" Harry bellowed, shaking Allan by the hand so warmly the vibrations ran through his body to the extent he felt he would be concussed. "You is a very lucky man" he said, winking at Beth in a friendly and harmless manner. "Let me show you around, den we'll have some tea!" he said, placing an arm across Beth's shoulder and leading her into the air conditioned house. Inside, Beth might easily have been forgiven for thinking she was in a palace. Marble floors with marble pillars greeted them, porcelain ornaments and bronze statues decorated the lobby which was light and spacious. Paintings adorned the walls of the impressive spiralling staircase, mostly landscapes of a nautical nature showing big galleons or schooners with a backdrop of local islands. A compass mosaic was set into the marble at the foot of the stairs and windows into the bar area were actual port hole windows. Harry must have spent a lot of money making the house as he and Maria liked, the paintwork light and airy, occasional blue and red circles painted on the walls to look like safety rings and a gigantic chandelier like the one in the film of "Titanic". Allan almost expected to see Leonardo ready to shake his hand at the foot of the stair well. Harry was talking to Beth, pointing out some of the plaster gargoyles around the ceiling but Allan was lost in the atmosphere. He followed them through to the area which had been set up like a bar, cellar as well. It could have been some swanky hotel for all Allan knew, five star rating with a nightly rate of 3 months salary! "You like fish?" Harry said, interrupting Allan's thought process. "Mmm? Oh, yes!" Allan responded, aware he'd been caught off guard, looking round for the tank he was expecting to find full of tropical fish. "Good. We've got freshly caught swordfish for supper" he said, unaware of Allan's confused state. "Can we see more of the island Unlce.......sorry, Harry?" Beth asked, her voice excited like a kid on Christmas eve. Harry laughed out loud. "Dere's plenty of time for dat tomorrow. I'll show you around personally" he grinned. "Now let Paul here show you to your room so you can get freshened up. Dinner is at seven, OK. Dress in shorts, nuttin' fancy you hear?" he said, his grin never receding. A well dressed black lad escorted them to their room, the long winding staircase looked almost endless at one point. Their cases were already in their room and many clothes already hung from hangers in the wardrobe. Large patio windows lead out onto a balcony, the hills to one side and a view of the bay ahead of them, the sun glistening off the water like a mirror. Small yachts in the distance made small white scars in the water as they gently sailed across the clear sea, echoes of a jet plane making it's final approach somewhere in the distance. Beth turned to Allan, her smile radiant and her eyes full of excitement. "Well?" she said, almost hopping from one foot to the other. "I've stayed in worse" Allan replied, trying to keep a straight face. Beth was about to thump Allan when there was a tap on the door. Allan walked across the room and opened the door to be greeted by one of the lads who'd brought their cases up. He was armed with a silver salver with cocktails on, condensation on the outside of the glass implying the contents of the glasses were ice cold. Allan took the tray and reached into his pocket to tip the lad but the lad smiled and shook his head. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 03 "No worry sir. Harry looks after me well" the lad said as he turned tail and disappeared. Allan shrugged his shoulders and returned with the drinks. "Old Harry's a good bloke" Allan said, handing Beth a drink. She took the glass and held it to her chest, her V neck T shirt showing an ample amount of breast. Beth sighed as the cold glass refreshed her warm skin. Allan, on the other hand, had found the straw of his and gulped greedily, almost choking as he swallowed. "Fucking hell, that's potent!" he said, still coughing. "That'll be the local rum" Beth replied. It's not like the dish water we get back home" she said, sipping her drink more tentatively. "I think you need to moderate your drinking whilst you're here" Beth commanded. Allan glared at her. "Think I'll stick to the red stripe" he suggested. Beth grinned. "What's funny?" Allan asked, trying to regain his composure. Beth wandered over to him, her confidence as strong as ever. "I don't want you getting drunk" she said, seductively, taking his glass from him and placing it on a coffee table, "Someone might take advantage of you". She leaned up to kiss him gently. "And who would be so cruel as to take advantage of me?" Allan replied as he returned her kiss. Beth pushed him onto the bed and hitched up her skirt. "I would!" she replied as she mounted Allan. "You see dat shack down dere?" Harry said, pointing directly to a wooden construction at the back of the beach. "Dat's where I used to run my soft ball business from. Most days, we'd have tirty or forty people playing soft ball. And just over there by dem rocks is where I first kissed Maria after we was married". His eyes welled up a little at the thought. "I didn't know you and Maria were married out here" Beth said. "Oh, yes. I brought her here to get married and we loved the place so much, we decided to move out here. I loved Barbados but Jamaica is my home now" Harry added. "Jamaica was always Maria's favourite and my favourite place was next to Maria" he grinned. Beth smiled with him. "Don't you miss Wolverhampton, Harry?" Allan interjected. Harry looked at him. "Are you missing Wolverhampton?" he replied. Allan smiled and shook his head. "Dumb question. Sorry, Harry" Allan said. "Now less of de morbid stuff" Harry said, his spirit lifted almost instantly, the chilled out factor returning to his persona. "What say we get on my boat and do a bit of fishing. Let's see who can catch a shark!" he beamed and neither Allan nor Beth knew whether to take his comments as a challenge or a joke. Twenty minutes later, the three of them had sailed out into the harbour and weighed anchor away from tourist and shipping channels. A fresh bottle of champagne was opened and Harry set up the fishing rods. Allan sat on the roof of the bridge, loosing his shirt and sunning himself in his shorts and trainers. "What's this?" Beth enquired. "It's not like you not to get your tackle out!" she joked. "You fish if you want to" Allan replied, placing his hands behind his head, "I'm gonna worship this sun for a bit. It might be a long time until we see it again once we get home". "Fine, but if you don't catch anything, there'll be nothing for supper" Beth replied, jovially. "Then you'd better catch us that Shark old Harry was telling us about" Allan replied, adjusting his Raybans and settling down for a well deserved snooze. Allan was still a little jet lagged and he could use some sleep. Beth sat beside Harry as he cast his rod out into the clear blue water. Harry enjoyed being on the water, much of his life was spent either transporting tourists around the island on excursions or relaxing with his fishing gear. "How's it been, then?" Beth enquired. Harry's gaze remained on the calm water. "How's what been, girl?" he replied. Beth sighed. "You know. Since you lost Maria. It must have been awful for you" she said, genuine concern in her eyes. Harry's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "You know girl, I tink dat Maria is happy. She was in so much pain and now she's not. Dat's good, that she's not in pain any more" "What about your pain. You miss her terribly, don't you" Beth asked. Harry's eyes remained level but his head nodded. "Dere's not a day go past when I don't tink about Maria. But she's at peace and dat's all dat matters to me" he said, trying to contain his emotions. Beth put her hand on his shoulders. "You really loved her, didn't you" she asked. Again he nodded. "Still do girl. Still do. I tell ya, love is da greatest ting in the world. It makes you feel all bubbly inside. You don't need dis champagne stuff to feel all funny inside, you just need love. You need love girl" he said, his eyes moving from the horizon and looking at her face. His smile mellowed him and she felt genuine affection for the old man. "I agree" she nodded. A gentle breeze caused the boat to rock gently and Harry caught Beth before she fell, her warm gentle skin and feminine smell reminding Harry of Maria in her youth. Like Beth, she was slender and very beautiful, and angel without wings Harry had once labelled her. They were more than just husband and wife, they were best buddies, the sort of people who were always on the same wavelength, their minds operating on the same level. Maria had suggested they were telepathic but Harry had joked saying maybe it should be psychopathic! Sure, they'd had bad times, too, but plenty of good times. Mostly good times in fact. They'd been all they'd ever needed in life, and their love lives had been most enjoyable. Neither had dabbled with other partners, both virgins when they'd met (although not virgins when they'd married – it was the swinging sixties at that point, after all). Harry had never even contemplated even looking at another woman, let alone playing away from home. Yet the feel of Beth's soft supple young body against his old, weary frame had made him feel young again, full of zest. For the first time in two years he felt the stirrings in his groin and he became uncomfortable. This friend of his niece who was old enough to be his grand daughter was giving him his first erection for more than 2 years. "I don't tink we're gonna get a bite" he said, averting his embarrassed gaze and fiddling with his fishing gear, his rod as static as Allan who was still asleep in the roof of the cabin. Beth felt hurt. Had she said something to offend him, raked up old memories that Harry would rather have kept buried deep in his psyche. "What's the matter?" Beth asked, worried she might have said or done something awful. "Nuttin'" Harry said, trying not to be phased by the affair, regaining his cool. "I tink we'd better move to a different spot. De fish are not biting that well around here" he said, making his way to the bridge. The rest of the fishing trip remained friendly but strained. Allan slept through the day, the mid-day sun reaching unbearable temperatures. Beth had a bikini on beneath her shorts and T shirt and she jumped in for a swim periodically, enjoying the coolness of the water against her flesh. Harry tried to look away as Beth entered or exited the boat, her soaking wet body stirring feelings again that he imagined had long since departed along with his beloved Maria. His change in attitude had not gone un-noticed with Beth either. She was still worried she'd said something out of turn. She wanted to apologise but at this moment in time, she had no idea what she was to apologise for. She didn't think she'd been that insensitive but she'd no idea how Harry had dealt with the loss of Maria. Each time she'd tried to enter into a conversation about anything other than trivia and Harry had found an excuse to busy himself with something else. Eventually, armed with a handful of fish, Harry headed the boat for home. Beth had joked about the catch to Allan who'd fallen asleep on the roof of the boat. He was red raw with sunburn from head to toe, with the exception of his shorts and Raybans. "Anyone for lobster?" Beth had teased. Allan was not amused. He was in agony with the burning sensation and was very dehydrated. He'd wolfed down some champagne but the alcohol had only succeeded in dehydrating himself more. "It'll make a change from red-eye in the wedding photos, won't it?" Beth had joked. The wedding was in 2 days time and Allan hadn't an icicle in hell's chance of looking remotely normal for then. Allan had the most uncomfortable night's rest, barely able to sleep. The sunburn had progressed into sun stroke, his pulse slow and full. Allan's head pounded like the mother of all hang-overs and he felt nauseous. Beth wanted to get some last minute shopping done for the wedding tomorrow but Allan was fit for nothing. He'd had a cold bath, covered himself in more after-sun that you could throw at him and he'd drunk nothing but pure mineral water. Still he felt like shit. Beth had arranged for Harry to show her the island some more and to take in the shopping mall and local markets. Harry had been only too happy to oblige, after all it wasn't every day you got to parade around with a beautiful young lady like Beth. She was pretty, she had a lovely personality and a body to die for.........Harry wished he hadn't had that thought. Silly old fool, he cursed to himself. What would a pretty young thing like her see in an old wrinkly fart like him? He was old, he was grey, he was wrinkly, he was not her type. But he found her attractive. She aroused him, something no one else other than Maria had ever been able to do. And because of this, he was smitten with her. "You still miss Maria" Beth said in the car on the way back from the excursion. Harry was a captive audience, he couldn't get away now. Beth could be cold and calculating when she needed to be. Harry nodded. "We was married for nigh on forty years" he said, his eyes focused on the road but part of his mind wandered. "It must have been difficult?" Beth suggested. "You ever thought about finding someone else?" she asked. Harry smiled and laughed but his laugh held no humour. "Never let it cross my mind sweetheart" he said. "Why not?" Beth asked. "'Cos no one else is Maria" he replied. Beth could understand. She'd been fucked by Kris and Juan yet despite their attributes, they weren't Allan. Sure Allan could be a goof at times like sunning himself and falling asleep!!! But he was Allan and she loved him, warts and all!! No one else was him. He loved her. She loved him. That's what counts. Her thoughts revealed her pretty smile beneath and Harry noticed her grin. "Who you tinking about, as if I didn't know?" he said, chuckling. "Am I that obvious?" Beth asked, happy the mood was becoming lighter. "You're as transparent as dem waters out dere" he said, pointing to the sea. Beth joined him in his chuckle. They drove in silence for a little while before Harry restarted the conversation. "So are you two off somewhere tonight? Stag do or someting?" he asked politely. Beth nodded. "Yeah, some joint stag and hen party, same club by all accounts. I can't believe they'd do that" "It's so dey can keep an eye on each other!" Harry beamed, enjoying the humour. They passed a large banana plantation, big tall trees with green growths that were beginning to look like the finished fruit. "You don't get banana farms like dat at Fort Dunlop!" Harry jested. Beth had to agree, the scenery was breath taking. "Do you miss England, Harry" Beth asked. Harry took his eyes off the road and stared at her incredulously. "I wouldn't give this up for da world" he said, returning his gaze to the road. "Dere's only one ting dat I miss........" his voice trailed off. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. "I know what I'm missing" Beth said, trying to lighten the mood again, "but he's still curled up in his bed I suppose!" "You need someting for tonight? Some Ganja or some ting?" Harry asked. Beth was a little surprised at his open approach. "We just use a bit of 'E' from time to time" Beth responded. Harry smiled. "You sure I can't interest you in some ting else?" he smiled. Beth shook her head. "Den we'll stop off at my store and I'll get you some, den" he replied, his eyes checking his mirrors before making a sharp right turn. They followed a dusty track for a couple of miles before coming to a general store on the outskirts of a small village. The locals nodded to Harry as he arrived and one old boy raised his hat to Beth. It may be the back end of the world in comparison to Europe or the Americas but they still held values and common decency. Manners were becoming extinct and Beth felt honoured that the locals should treat her, a mere tourist, with that level of respect. Beth waved and smiled gaily as they entered Harry's general store. The two ladies who ran the store for Harry greeted him with beaming smiles and big hugs. Harry introduced Beth to them and they extended their warm wishes in much the same way, hugs and smiles. The store was full of everything British as though Harry had not been able to completely let go. Shelves were laden with various types of mustard and other condiments, ketchups and brown sauces, suet pudding and instant custard powder, Kendall mint cake and soda bread. Scottish shortbread and English Brown ale sat beside each other on the shelf in total contrast to each other. A colour poster of the Wolverhampton Wanderers football team took pride of place behind the counter, the players sporting the dodgy hairstyles of the mid 1970's. Another poster of Charles and Diana adorned another wall and above the window was a small array of union flags. Harry may have left the UK decades ago but his roots and his loyalty lived on. Harry had disappeared into the back whilst Beth was taking in the sheer delight of the store. He opened his safe and took out a key which opened another cabinet towards the office window. He opened the top drawer and reached in. Amongst the boxes and packets were medication and drugs of all sorts. He had an array of prescription only medication which he would sell if requested. These drugs were openly available via the internet and had been acquired quite legally and provided he didn't recommend a particular drug, he was within the law. He was merely the middle man, supplying for a profit. There were antibiotics and alpha and beta blockers (olol's), GTN sprays and a selection of 'epams' (tranquillisers) littered the drawer as he rummaged around. He took out some of the boxes to allow him better access to the rear of the cabinet where the controlled substances were located. His desk looked like a pharmacy as he delved around until he found what he was looking for. He'd always kept a small selection of cannabis but also held some "E" for the tourists, just in case. He hated turning people away, not because he wanted to make large profits, but because he hated to be beaten. He loved to be the one who could provide for his guests whilst they were thousands of miles from home. Not only that, the villagers enjoyed his produce, too. "Dere dey is" he said to himself, unaware of his poor English. He reached in and removed some of the "E" he'd promised Beth, placing the offending articles into his pocket. He started to repack the drawer when he stopped. He looked at the box in his hand and his heart skipped a beat. Viagra. God, the very thought of having an erection again made his heart rate thump in his chest. His mind wandered back to the day before when Beth had fallen against him on the boat, stirring feelings he'd thought he'd never ever experience again. Harry had enjoyed the feelings yesterday and he wondered if he could enjoy those feelings again. He rolled the box over in his hands as he thought. The sensation had been exhilarating. Yearnings for relief ran through his mind. He'd not made love to a woman since before his wife died 2 years earlier. He'd not even had an erection, let alone a wet dream or a wank. But being close to Beth, Harry had experienced something unique, inasmuch as feeling horny, which was something Harry had doubted he'd ever feel again. Sure, he missed his loving wife but he was still a red blooded male and not too old to feel horny, even if it was with a woman 3 times younger than him. He shook his head gently, trying to reject the thoughts as they travelled through his mind, infecting his entire attitude to Beth. She was lovely, a good friend and he'd known her since she was a grubby little school girl yet here she was, all grown up and married and, most importantly, deeply in love. But he, an old wrinkly grey haired old codger was having impure thoughts about her. Harry knew it was wrong but it was almost like an infatuation. Maybe he'd try to masturbate later, that should get rid of the impulsive urges and relieve the obvious build up of 2 years worth of semen. He popped a strip of Viagra into his pocket and replaced the box in the drawer, locking it firmly. He turned to leave the room but his eyes fell upon the photo frame on his desk, the lovely smiling face of his late wife staring back at him. It was almost like she was willing him to get on with his life, to live his life now for him. She may not be around any more but it didn't mean he had to remain celibate. Anyway, he'd be imagining her as he pleasured himself he guessed. Harry found Beth in the store in deep conversation with one of the staff, a big black woman with colourful clothing and a smile that would warm any heart. "Dis'll put hairs on your chest, woman!" she chuckled loudly as she passed Beth a bottle of pure Jamaican rum. Beth opened her purse to pay but Harry interjected. "Put your money away, girl. You're my guest, remember?" he said, winking at his store assistant. "Now let's go and find my favourite fish restaurant for some lunch and it's my treat" he ordered, ushering Beth out of the store with the bottle in her arm. Twenty minutes later, Beth was sat on a balcony of a plush restaurant overlooking the sea, Harry's white mansion just visible through the groves over in the distance. A young tall black guy served them a starter of fresh Melon and it had just come out of a refrigerator judging by its temperature. A bottle of ice cold mineral water was poured and they toasted each other with a nice cold drink. They made small talk and Harry entertained Beth telling her stories about his early days in Barbados and, later on in Jamaica. He made Beth laugh with his fables about the tourists who believed the entire island was part of the Hedonism movement and how obese tourists would try wind surfing naked. Beth laughed hysterically as Harry told her about the time a naked wind surfer was stung by a jellyfish in his most private areas, and how the swelling had made him look almost aroused. His cries of pain, however, suggested otherwise and he was hospitalised for a few days and was advised to avoid looking at the page 3 calendar at work for a couple of weeks! Beth felt totally relaxed in Harry's company, her mind flitting back to Allan momentarily but the rest of the time, she was totally consumed in Harry's conversation. They drove through the island back to Harry's mansion and they sat on the patio by the pool. Beth was insistent that they opened the bottle of rum she'd been given at the store and Harry felt compelled to oblige. He took the bottle to the bar area and made the drinks personally, mixing a Viagra into his drink. Beth was sat on a lounger by the pool, her shades covering her eyes so he was uncertain if she was watching him or not. She had discarded her light cotton dress, her skimpy bikini beneath displayed to the world. Her pearly white skin was moist with sweat from the Caribbean sunshine and her slender belly gently moved with her restful breathing. Harry felt the cold glass in his hand brought him back to his senses. He coughed subtly and her head moved towards him. He held out a glass to Beth and she took it, smiling, the coldness of the glass so pleasant against her warm skin. Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love Pt. 03 "Thank you" she muttered, tasting the drink through the straw. It was Beth's turn to cough, the strength of the rum just a little too strong for her. Harry chuckled to himself. "What's da matter, girl?" he asked wryly. Beth continued to splutter. "Jeez, what's in this? Jet fuel?" she coughed. Harry laughed even louder and anyone in the vicinity would have thought he was a local black guy, his guffawing mixed with his Caribbean accent made him sound so definitely black yet he was a white guy from the West Midlands. "It'll chill you out girl. Don't you worry!" he smirked. Beth placed the glass down for a few moments on the table next to Harry's drink. "The only thing that chills me out is 'E'" Beth said, regaining her composure. Harry put his hand in his pocket and showed her the contents. "Like these?" he asked, handing her the tablets. Beth smiled. "Is there nothing you can't do?" she laughed and Harry joined in with her mirth. Beth popped a pill and swallowed it with a sip of her drink, her sipping much more delicate, aware that the white rum was incredibly potent. Beth wasn't worried what Allan felt like, she was going to the party tonight and, boy was she going to party? The 'E' would set her up just right. She didn't travel thousands of miles to sit in a room nursing her husband, this was Jamaica for goodness sake! Harry was glugging at his drink, expecting the Viagra to have an effect. He'd read the blurb about it, it took about 14 minutes to kick in and he would excuse himself and retire to his room and enjoy an erection for the first time in more than two years. He looked at Beth and felt stirrings in his loins and he was uncertain if the drugs were having a premature effect or if it was merely her genuine beauty. She looked so horny and if only he were 40 years younger.............. The thoughts trickled away as he felt uncomfortable, the growth in his pants becoming slightly embarrassing. "You relax and enjoy the pool" Harry said as he stood, facing away from her, trying to hide the obvious lump in his lap. He rushed off like someone with a dose of diarrhoea and Beth sat there wondering if she had, once again, said something to upset Harry. He was a lovely guy, kind and caring and he'd gone through an awful lot over the last couple of years. Beth felt a kind of daughterly love towards old Harry and she couldn't even begin to imagine the hurt he must have experienced when he lost his wife, Maria. It was evident he still loved her and he was uncomfortable in Beth's presence. Did she, in someway, remind Harry of his late wife? She had no idea. She had to go and talk to him, to help him in his hour of need. It was the least she could do. She downed the rest of the rum, her throat was now used to the burning sensation that it left on the back of her throat, unaware that the flavour masked the taste of the Viagra that had been mixed into the drink. She had inadvertently picked up the wrong glass and had drunk the rum Harry had intended for himself. Beth strolled through the mansion and mounted the stairs, her mood light and easy, the effects of alcohol and 'E' kicking in. And she was beginning to feel aroused. Middle of the afternoon and she was feeling as horny as hell. She wondered if Allan was awake yet and if he was up for a bit of rumpy pumpy. She licked her lips at the very thought. Yes, she could just handle a pussy full of his cock right now. "Stop it" she cursed to herself as she slowly climbed the stairs. She had to find Harry so she could talk to him. He'd put them up for free in his own mansion, the least she could do was offer him a shoulder to cry on. She reached the landing and looked to the right. Their bedroom door was still closed tight and obviously Allan was still feeling sorry for himself. She smirked to herself as she wondered if Allan was feeling himself – the double entendre deliberate. As long as he wasn't feeling a little queer, she mused to herself. She opened the door and peeked inside. Allan raised his head of the pillow. "How ya doing, sweetheart?" he said, endeavouring to sit up and wishing he hadn't. "Yeah, fine. You?" "Yeah, great" Allan lied. "Look, Harry's gone all moody and retired to his bedroom. I'm gonna go and cheer him up, OK?" Beth's question was more of a statement. Allan grinned. "I know what'll cheer him up alright" he said, gazing at the cleavage from her bikini top. "Stop it. He's old enough to be my grand dad you know?" Beth retorted. It had crossed her mind that the old boy had taken a shine to her but she'd guessed it was all innocent stuff. "I reckon he'd love to see you topless. Go on, give him a bit of a show" Allan urged, his old self returning. Beth blushed and this was enhanced due to the Viagra. "I'm just gonna go and chat with him" Beth replied, preparing to go. "Text me with your progress" Allan said, curling back onto the bed and flipping his phone open. "We're not playing those games again, are we?" she said. Beth felt a shade disappointed that Allan wanted to continue with these mind games yet she also craved them secretly. They could be fun, she could be in control. Sure, she'd had some 'E' but she was in total control. Had she been aware she'd inadvertently consumed some Viagra, she may have had second thoughts. "Text me, OK?" Allan nodded to her. Beth sighed. "OK, if it keeps you happy" She turned and walked out the door, her sexy arse wiggling in her revealing bikini bottoms. Chapter 14 Beth looked to the left and down the corridor she saw a small glimpse of sunlight from a door that was still slightly ajar. She quietly padded down the carpeted air conditioned corridor towards the shaft of light, stopping outside and listening. She heard some rustling and the unmistakable sound of someone lowering them selves onto a bed. A few seconds of silence ensued followed by some breathing which was becoming more rapid. Gently, Beth pushed the door open slightly, shielding her eyes from the sunlight that beamed through the windows. She crept in slowly, past the en-suite bathroom area and poked her head around the corner. It was evidently Harry's bed room still kitted out the way his late wife had set it out, a vase which he refilled with fresh flowers every day sat on the dresser and photographs adorned the walls from each of the last five decades. Long floral curtains draped from brass rails across the patio windows and, out on the balcony, a table and 2 chairs was dressed with fresh flowers and a table cloth. A large wide screen plasma screen filled the gap between 2 patio windows and a large mirror was firmly adhered to the ceiling above the bed. White net mosquito curtains were tied to the bed posts and a small mini bar fridge with a glass door sat close to the bed, a wide selection of various soft and alcoholic drinks lined the metal shelves within. Beth looked at the bed and was surprised to find Harry laying down naked on the bed, his eyes closed and his head rested in a semi recumbent position on the bed. His right hand was gripping his penis which was erect and stood a fairly good size, especially for an old man. He muttered quietly and his words were inaudible. Beth stood there as he masturbated himself, his hands moving slowly up and down his shaft, tufts of grey pubic hair emanated from his groin. The leg nearest Beth was raised slightly obscuring his testicles but Beth could tell from the way he moved his hands that he was not small by any means of the imagination. Beth felt her cell phone in her hand and she swiftly texted Allan. "H wanking" she typed before hitting send. Beth's attention returned to the old man. Harry's state of arousal became more intense and his hand began to move faster, the tip of his penis head becoming moist with pre cum. Beth found the scene strangely fascinating, she'd never imagined how an old person would look having a wank and she stood, transfixed as he pulled his pudding. Beth felt her own state of arousal and her pussy was becoming wetter as she watched, the image in front of her perverse yet pleasing. She imagined herself masturbating Allan, her hand gliding along his ample sized prick, teasing him with her hand, slowly and seductively bringing him to arousal, simulating intercourse with her palm and fingers, her thumb pressing on the underside of the head and enjoying the feel of his pulse against the pads of her fingers. Almost instinctively, Beth placed her hand on her bikini panties, enjoying the sensation of motion against her clitoris which felt strangely alive and electric. Her pussy was becoming more and more moist and she could feel her fluids soaking into the crotch of her panties. Her fingers lifted the material of her panties allowing her other fingers to slide inside the material and touch herself. Her finger movements become more rigorous but in a gentle way, her other hand raised and caressing her own breast through her bikini top. She could feel her nipples becoming firm and erect, her state of arousal heightened not just because of the 'E' although Beth was still unaware of any other substance within her body. Harry's hand movements were now quite rapid and extended the full length of his cock whilst Beth's hands were busy stimulating herself. Had Harry opened his eyes, he would have seen her but he was still in a state of semi trance, lost within his own mind, recalling his dear late wife but visions of Beth in her sexy bikini over writing he visions of his own lady. Beth felt her phone vibrate and she checked the text message. "UU" it said, their text code for flash some breast. Allan had suggested only moments earlier she should go topless but Beth had fears she'd give the old boy a coronary. But she had to admit, it might be fun to just flash them a little and, anyway the old man had his eyes closed. Beth took the initiative and unclipped her bikini bra which was peach in colour and, from a distance, they looked skin coloured giving the impression she was naked even when she was covered. Beth's bikini top fell to the floor revealing her ample sized breasts to the air conditioned atmosphere within the room, the coolness on her warm flesh a welcome relief. The cooler air made her pert nipples firmer and she caressed herself more with her thumb and forefinger. Her other hand still frigged herself within her panties and she had now moved the material so her pussy was on full display. Her fingers continued to play with her most sensitive parts and, in doing so, becoming wetter and more aroused in the process. Accidentally, her finger nail caught her clitoris and the sensation was a mixture of pain and pleasure and she gasped in the process. Harry's mumblings became more audible and Beth watched his lips as he spoke to himself. His lips met before his mouth opened, his tongue touching his front teeth, like he was whispering...... "Beth, oh Beth....." Beth stood in shock. The old boy was wanking over her. Her mind bounced like her bust when she was jogging. The dirty old sod was masturbating over a lass old enough to be his grand daughter. Beth felt honoured, disgusted and degraded yet she also understood his situation, being without a partner, the partner he'd loved for more than 40 years. She felt the Nokia in her hand and she texted to Allan. "H wnkng. Sez my name" she typed. Moments later, the message was sent. Beth stood there topless in the bedroom of the old boy watching his masturbate. And in his mind's eye, his hand was really Beth's pussy. Repulsed as she may have felt, she was feeling horny and whether it was the rum or the "E", she had no idea but her pussy was well lubed up and ready for some attention. As a consequence, her own breathing rate had increased and she had not realised the fact, her breathing sounding fast and raspy. Harry opened his eyes and smiled. "Are you a dream or de real ting?" he asked. Beth stood stationary. She felt embarrassed like a child caught stealing from the biscuit tin but Harry just smiled. "I can see you're enjoying the show" Harry said, his smile broadening. "Would you like a closer look?" he said, removing his hand from his erection. Beth gasped again. Harry was enormous. She'd seen some big cocks in her time, the last 6 months or so, she'd seen some monsters in Ibiza and now, here she was in Jamaica with on old man who was build like a boa constrictor! Or so it looked. Harry patted the bed beside him. "Come and sit here, girl" Harry said, authoritively. Beth moved closer, her movements slow and cumbersome, her embarrassment of being half naked and aroused making her shy and reserved, unlike her usual confident manner. She'd forgotten she'd come to talk to the old man, fearing she'd hurt his feelings. She sat on the bed and couldn't help but stare at his erection, her eyes being drawn to it like a driver rubber-necking a road accident. Harry grinned. "Go ahead. Touch it" he urged. Beth didn't know what to do, she felt strangely horny like she'd never felt before. Her skin felt dry and flushed and her eyes winced a little at the sunshine in the room. She was half naked with a fully naked old man on his bed in his own room and he was asking her to touch his knob. She was a married woman, a happily married woman to be precise with a loving, caring husband. Yet she felt strangely compelled to reach out and touch the old man's erection. It stood erect, pointing to the mirror on the ceiling like some living direction sign and it slowly moved with the force of the pulse within. "You remind me so much of my dear Maria" Harry began by way of explanation. "She was da same build as you, same dreamy eyes and legs to die for....." he continued, his eyes taking in Beth's natural beauty yet seeing Maria. "She had longer hair dan you but she was every bit as beautiful as you." Beth blushed a little. She didn't know what to think. Should she take it as a compliment or was this uncle just a dirty old man? Harry nodded for her to touch his raging hard on. Beth's hand reached out, a slight tremble as she did so, gradually closing the gap between her and it. Her open palm touched Harry's penis and her fingers curled almost instinctively around it, her fingers unable to fully encapsulate his cock. She could feel the pulse within his penis against her own hand and images of Allan raced into her mind. Was she, once again in a role play situation? Was Harry also in a role play situation? Beth closed her eyes, her imagination taking her into a world of fantasy again. She heard Harry's breathing become shallower and more rapid, warm soft flesh against hers, sensations of fingers against her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Beth breathed in sharply as her breasts became encased in Harry's large tanned hands but in Beth's mind, it wasn't Harry, it was Allan. It was Allan pretending to be Harry. "You feel delightful, my dear" the voice said and Beth imagined it was Allan doing one of his fake accents only this time, the accent was almost realistic. The slight West Midlands accent within Harry's Caribbean accent made it seem ever so just feasible that it was Allan. Beth breathed confidently, her mind telling her it was OK, it was just Allan role playing, that this was fantasy. Beth's hands started to move up and down on Harry's enlarged organ, Harry also unaware that his erection was natural and that no Viagra was to blame, that the drug had inadvertently been taken by Beth. It felt so good to Harry to have an erection and, more importantly, a beautiful woman playing with it. He closed his eyes briefly but preferred the view the reality, taking in the scene before him. Beth kept her eyes closed, the photophobia making it more comfortable to remain with her eyes shut. It also afforded her the opportunity to remain in her fantasy world. Harry moved his other hand to her thigh and gently caressed her leg, reaching her pubic area and stroking her hand gently before replacing her hand with his own. He felt her moistness against his hands, her skimpy bikini bottoms wet but not because of the swimming pool. He teased her slowly, his fingers caressing the length of her pussy lips through the silky smooth material, his actions unhurried and laid back. He moved her panties to one side and slid his hand inside her bikini bottoms, his fingers easily entering her pussy lips with her own juices acting as lubricant. Beth gasped again, the sensation not unpleasant and she imagined it was Allan probing at her. She opened her legs to allow easier access and Harry did not waste the opportunity, his expert fingers entering her and instantly curling, looking for the G spot. Whether he found it or not, he didn't know but Beth responded, her hand on his cock now vice like and masturbating him like her life depended on it. Her cell phone vibrated again but Beth had dropped the phone on the bed somewhere and had no idea where it had gone. At this moment in time, she had no inclination to find it. His face was next to hers, his eyes open but Beth's eyes were closed, the light from the window making her feel pain behind the eyelids. She could feel Harry's warm breath on her cheek as he exhaled. He gave her a tentative peck on the cheek, her soft young skin feeling delightful against his mature lips. She turned her head towards him to speak but her words were cut short, Harry's seizing the opportunity to plant a kiss in Beth's lovely lips. She felt just like Maria and Harry was transported back to happier days, days when Maria was not just alive, but full of vigour and passion and love. Memories of how good she tasted flooded back into his mind and Harry just had to find out if Beth tasted the same. Without warning, he plunged his tongue deep into Beth's mouth, his tongue encircling hers like a serpent, his saliva mixing with hers. Yes, she tasted every bit as good as Maria, the slight taste of Jamaican Run adding to her sexiness. His own cock became harder as his tongue tangoed with hers. Beth responded, the Viagra raising her own level of arousal, Harry's expert kissing making her feel hornier than ever. Beth began to moan as Harry's fingers found her pleasure zones and Beth writhed in delight. Harry sat up and helped Beth to lie back on the bed, her knees bent as he slowly and deliberately removed her briefs. Beth murmured something along the lines of stop but it was too low for anyone to hear and, anyway, there was no conviction in her words. Harry laid down next to her, his hands wandering over her bosoms, his warm breath against her soft velvety cheek. He looked at her with longing in his eyes as she squirmed gently on the bed, his large but delicate hands covering her breasts, his fingers extended so the nipples fell beneath his knuckles so as he moved his hands, his fingers rang along her nipples like running a stick along fence posts. Beth wriggled a little and Harry moved his face from Beth's hungry mouth and closer to her chest, her rapid breathing movements making her tits bounce and Harry had to sway a little before he caught one with his lips, like he was back on his boat. He sucked on her nipple greedily, his tongue writing circles of saliva across her areola. Beth murmured again, her murmurs drowning out the sound of Beth's phone vibrating again as another text message from Allan arrived. Harry let a hand wander across her flat tummy en route to her pubic region, gently stroking the pussy hair as he fingers slid across her pelvic region in search of the opening between her legs, a sensation Harry had not enjoyed for several years. His fingers reached her labia which were well lubricated, the Viagra cheating her body, making her aroused. She kept her eyes shut lightly, muttering incoherently to herself as Harry probed at her, his fingers spreading her lips open before he slid a finger inside her. Beth drew in breath sharply, the sensation causing her to shudder in ecstasy.