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Guiding Natasha

By: rnumbers123



I eyed the rows of passengers warily as my wife and I boarded the tour bus. Sure enough, we had botched it by being late and there wasn't a spot where two people could sit together. There he was, though, fifth row. Anton. He had one seat reserved with his backpack. Of course my wife, Natasha, sat with him. Damn. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was uncomfortable.

Our vacation had actually started pretty well. We had arrived at the hotel in Torremolinos in the south of Spain for a two week vacation on the Mediterranean. Being from the U.S., I was very excited to visit such an exotic location. A hotel on the beach, a clear blue pool, a wonderful bar for drinks, and two fantastic meals a day, all-inclusive. The men had to wear slacks in the dining area, no shorts. It was old-school middle class European tourism, casual with a touch of class and plenty of booze. 

Natasha and I were on our honeymoon. She was from Ukraine, and she was beautiful. Blond hair, curvy, with a pert mouth and a wide Slavic face. When I'd first met her, we worked for the same semi-conductor company, but on different sides of the planet. We'd met when she'd come out for a sales and marketing meeting held in Las Vegas. She helped manage a team out of Kiev, and was thrilled to be able to visit the States on the company dime. She'd been to New York as a student, but that was it. We hit it off, big-time. It was a five day company meeting and even though we'd made love that last night, when the trip was up, she was gone. 

I wasn't able to see her again for a whole year when the whole process repeated itself. I was so busy I didn't have time to meet interesting women. I wasn't interested in barflies or pill heads, plenty of which I saw on the road. Natasha never left my mind. She had a Facebook account that she rarely used, but I'd still find myself trolling it regularly, looking for any excuse to chat or comment on her homepage. We agreed to meet early the next year to get some together time. I wasn't entirely certain if she had a boyfriend but she claimed to not see anybody regularly. About a month before her arrival, I was jittery. I waited at the airport with 11 roses. The previous year she'd mentioned that an even number was bad luck in Ukraine, and she appreciated the gift and recalled our conversation. It was as if she'd never left. The first night we kissed on the observation deck of the Stratosphere, and I surprised her with a $500 helicopter ride to the Grand Canyon. 

After that meeting ended, we made a pact to get her transferred to the U.S. office, even temporarily, and our effort paid off. She came, we dated, and after six months she was living with me. A year later we married. So from the time I met her to marriage, we'd already known each other for three years. Time flies when you're having fun.

The first time I'd met Anton was before we married. He'd come with his wife, Sveta to a party we had hosted at our apartment, mostly attended by Natasha's Russian-speaking friends. Natasha had really reached out to other Russian speakers since she'd arrived as she wasn't comfortable making American friends. I'd found them interesting, and the women were usually good looking. Anton and his wife were invited because he'd known Natasha since elementary school, but had only recently came to attend grad school while his wife worked at a local technology firm. They were a great couple and very social. One weekend when Natasha and I were in Tahoe, they rang out of the blue to announce they were also in town and wanted to meet up for dinner and drinks. It was great. We weren't exactly best friends, but we found ourselves invited to almost every party they hosted, which was seemingly once every few weeks.

Keep in mind Natasha always laughed at Anton's jokes, enjoyed singing old Soviet Pioneer songs and dancing to Russian-language pop with him during our drunker late nights. I was too embarrassed to join my them during these moments, so they were a natural fit. It made me feel kind of funny in the pit of my stomach during these moments, but Anton's wife was always gracious enough to sit with me and laugh at them together. So we'd chat while our spouses sang and danced and I never felt left out. Sveta was a great woman.

If I had to pinpoint when our relationship dynamic changed, it was definitely during a small get-together that we hosted. Anton, his wife, and another couple were there, six in all. We were drinking around a coffee table, when something amazing happened. The third couple's wife was telling some crazy story in rapid-fire Russian and I thought I heard "lesbiyanka", and everybody started laughing. When they settled down, she apologized and repeated the gist of the story in slightly broken English. 

One time in Kiev, her work took her to a hotel bar where she was hosting three ladies, one of whom happened to be a lesbian. Ruthlessly, she wanted to fool her into thinking she was also a lesbian, and she did her best to pretend. As she was repeating this story, I looked at Natasha and smiled knowingly. She had admitted some attraction to particularly attractive female friends. We'd had great sex as she described looking at one of her friend's naked ass from behind, how her eyes were drawn to her pubic hair and lips as she'd bent over a bathtub as they were getting ready to go out one evening. Now, listening to this lesbian story, I noted she wasn't looking back at me. Her gaze was on the storyteller, and as she finished, Natasha asked a risqué question to which everybody laughed. How far, exactly, did she go with her lesbian act. The storyteller motioned for Natasha to come close, one thing led to another and as a "demonstration", she kissed Natasha full on the lips. Natasha did not pull back but returned this kiss reaching out to cup the back of the head of her friend as they actively showed each other affection. We sat stunned. I glanced over and Anton's wife had a look of disapproval but Anton was transfixed with gleaming eyes and a smile. 

They kissed long enough and husband of the woman my wife kissed took a picture. Interestingly, months later his wife mailed a hard copy of the photo to us. I consider it a priceless if somewhat embarrassing treasure. The important effect was the kiss made Anton very horny. 

More drinks were had, and late into the evening Natasha disappeared into the kitchen to wash up. Anton offered to help and followed despite her protestations. A few minutes later they rejoined us and we finished out the evening with aspirin and waters for everybody. My mood was electric. Even the hug from Anton's wife as she left seemed to have deeper meaning. 

We retired to the bedroom, she took my hand as we entered and said, "You know, he tried to kiss me and then tried to feel me." 

Then she kissed me.

My mind couldn't process this new information, so I kissed her back for a few seconds before I withdrew and stammered out, "Huh, what?" 

She smiled. "Between my legs, under my skirt!" 

I felt kind of strange and didn't know how to re-act. 

"Did, uh, you let him?" I nervously asked.

"Oh no." She replied, shaking her head and giving me a weird look. "I pushed him away and told him to go back to Sveta."

I kicked off my pants and she eyed my boxers, my dong pretty much sticking straight out. We skipped the foreplay as she pulled off her panties and I could smell her sex as my dick easily slid into her. We fucked in the missionary position. 

Is I fucked her, I felt the need to preserve my dignity and blurted out, "I better say something to him tomorrow, give him a call." 

I dreaded saying it as I spoke. I really didn't want to have that difficult conversation with him. 

Natasha just laughed, "Oh don't worry about it. He's European, you know how it is. It's not a big deal."

I was relieved if not a little puzzled, but accepted her words at face value. I just wanted to fuck, so I picked up the pace. I'd been horny long enough that I couldn't just cum quickly, especially because Natasha was very, very slick, much more than normal. She just closed her eyes and moaned as I drove into her. 

I stared at her and mentally re-watched my wife's lesbian kiss. My cock was rock-hard, and it felt good, but I just couldn't get that that orgasm started. My brain made a split second decision for me. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine Anton trying to kiss my Natasha. Anton, who so rudely disrespected me by trying to kiss my wife and feel her up. I pulled out quickly, not wanting to get her pregnant, and jacked myself off with a funny feeling of guilt. 

Natasha, frustrated as she wasn't finished, balled up her fists and slapped my thighs as I looked down at her. She wanted more. I was already finished, but I lovingly tried to replicate her pleasure with my fingers. It didn't really work and she pushed my hand away and quickly moved her own fingers over her clit to get herself off as she moaned out in frustration or orgasm. I couldn't tell which and didn't want to push it.

The next day she didn't bring it up, but I couldn't help but think of the prior night. Was I being sort of gay, imagining my wife with Anton in kitchen? It troubled me, but to that very thought I masturbated three times that day. In fact, the third orgasm was only a half hour after the previous orgasm. I hardly came at all and it was frustrating and as the helmet of my cock ached and stung a little from the friction. The next day I also jacked off and the process felt much better, but I also had an overwhelming sense that somehow I needed to lock Natasha down as my girl. It was a sense of foreboding.

That Friday I got off work early, grabbed a suitcase I pre-packed with items for both of us, and told her I had a surprise. We arrived in San Francisco after dark, the hotel bellman carrying our puny bag for us as we all stood in the elevator. He opened our door, I slipped him a $20 and suddenly he's in the room, pointing out the amenities. Under normal circumstances I'd be grateful, but in my current state of mind I wanted him gone. I breathed a sigh of relief as he left. 

As the door shut I looked over at Natasha. She was gorgeous from behind. She had a chair in front of her that she held onto, one knee resting on the cushioned seat as she gazed out at the cityscape. Her body was slightly bent over, her dress hugging that beautiful round bottom as she admired the fantastic view from 25 stories up. I put my arm around her and she smiled at me as we stared at the building filled hills, the skyscrapers and bay behind it, everything bathed in electric light.

"It's beautiful." She said. 

I reached into my pocket with my free hand and pulled out a small box. I opened it to show her the ring. She stared, a strange look on her face, puzzlement. I gulped as I said my next words. 

"Will you marry me?"

Her eyes started to glisten. A smile on her face forming as her pert mouth, red lipstick, started to mouth, "Da, da da.. Yes. Or course!"

We both danced in a circle to an invisible tune, giddy and we pulled each other to the bed. We kissed passionately for a few minutes before she jumped up and excused herself to the bathroom, grabbing the small suitcase on the way in. She laughed loudly when she found some favorite lingerie I packed. She was a vision of ecstasy, standing at the foot of the bed, her straight blond hair bobbing around her shoulders. She wore sexy panties and which hugged her wide sexy hips. Her bra half concealing her pert champagne glass breasts, the hard nubs of her nipples stuck out. She bent down on the bed as I lay with my head on the pillow. She crawled up and grabbed my hard, taught penis. One lick as she eyeballed me. She grabbed the base of the shaft, firmly yet gently, and coaxed a ball of clear pre-cum out of the tip. She winked, opened wide and swallowed four inches of my cock, no teeth, and sucked. I could hear the vacuum being created as her lips ever so briefly vibrated as she suctioned tight on my hard penis. 

Up and down he head bobbed, for maybe a minute until she got the urge to have her pleasure satisfied. She got up and kissed me, her saliva slick with my pre-cum, her tongue sliding between my lips, feeding me hints of my own sex. Then she broke the kiss and swiveled around on me into the 69 position. Did I mention those panties? My favorite. They were split in the crotch, and it wasn't obvious at all until she spread her legs. She lowered her weight onto me, my tongue exploring her folds. My nose occasionally being pushed into the soft crack of her ass, denying me precious air unless I shifted or pushed her up. It was as close to nirvana as I'd ever been, without actually concentrating on my own cock's pleasure. 

The taught panties denied me the full pleasure of her crotch. I licked and kissed and sucked her magnificent pussy, but the cotton threads digging into my cheeks. I finally started pulling them down at the hips, my signal for her to remove them completely. She lay back on the sheets and complied, playfully flinging them at me. I slid my cock into her as she spread her legs. I looked over and noticed the wide open glass wall and it broke my concentration. Perhaps somebody out there could see us. 

"Faster," she said. "I need to feel you deep in me". We fucked for a few minutes like this. She finally had enough and told me to get up. We decoupled and she got on her hands and knees, her ass high in the air and head on the pillow. 

"I need to feel you deep in me," she repeated. 

I gently mounted her from from behind, but she just blurted out in Russian "Davai, davai! Come on! Faster!". 

I shoved my cock in, sliding all the way to my stomach which normally hurt her if it had been a quickie. She needed my cock deep and she moaned in a high pitch, hard each time I pounded her with my cock. She loved it. I was able to maintain my erection long enough for me to be sure that she'd orgasmed, and at that point I pulled out. I was terrified of pregnancy. I leaned back and jacked off as I focused on her pussy. She playfully rubbed it for me and that was enough to get me over the hump, my hot sperm splattering on my chest, the rest coating my palm and fingers as endorphins flooded my mind.

The sex had been border-line aerobic. I gathered my breath and she fell over onto her side. I hopped off the bed to grab some towels and threw one her way. She chuckled as it just fell on her without any attempt at a catch. 

As I started the hot water of the shower I pulled out my phone to see if I had any messages. I decided to grab both of our phones to charge them, and pulled hers out of her purse. Right away I noticed a text to her from Anton. This was normal, but for the first time my sticky, flaccid penis stirred. The day before the infamous get-together, if I had seen that message, I would have plugged her phone in to charger, took my shower, and returned to Natasha. Something inside me really needed to see where this would go. I took the phone and gave it to Natasha.

"Looks like Anton is trying to get a hold of you." 

We both laughed at the obvious double entendre. I stood at the foot of the bed, obviously wanting to be in on their communication. 

Natasha read the text and looked up. "They want us to come over for a barbecue tomorrow."

Good, I thought. Wait, why was that good? I felt confused at the feeling, but knew I wanted to get us all together again. I realized my penis was getting noticeably hard and I was a little ashamed, so I fell down on the bed to mask it. She dialed.

They both spoke for a couple of minutes, and although I didn't understand all of it, I got the gist that she was telling him we were in the city, and that she'd just accepted my marriage proposal. I could hear him loudly congratulating her. They agreed we'd meet up on Sunday instead.

When she got off the phone I practically raped her as she lay on her back, her legs spread. I still felt remnants of sperm on her belly as I held her close, my cock sliding into her. I had these embarrassing thoughts in my mind, but I wasn't sure how to communicate them to her. As coolly as possible I said, "I can't help but think about you kissing Anton that night." 

Wow, I'd said it. I'd opened the door a crack. I girded for her reaction. She opened her eyes and said defensively, "I didn't kiss him. He was drunk!"

"I know," I replied as I kept a steady rhythm. "I love you honey. If he does it again you have my permission to kiss him, a free pass."

She closed her eyes and said, "Okay, that is weird. And what about Sveta, his wife? She's a friend. It's disrespectful."

She played his marriage card. The tone led me to believe it would never happen. 

"Oh honey, it's just a little fantasy." 

I tried to end the conversation gracefully and picked up the pace.

She said, "Thank you honey. I'm so glad we found each other. I just want to be with you."

I found myself losing my erection from disappointment. I'd never lost an erection with her. She was puzzled as I softened and withdrew.

"Did you finish? What's the matter?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it, I love you." I replied as happily as possible, and started to get up. I felt like a liar, guilty that I'd brought it up, and unhappy that I'd botched everything.

As I got up and turned she stunned me. "Oh Anton!" she said in a sexy voice. I turned and saw her smiling, eyes closed, her hand between her legs going in little circles. She peaked out at me and patted the bed. 

I'm not sure she came, but I did in about three minutes, me once again pulling out at the last second. I hopped into the now steaming shower and quickly cleaned up. That night we made two decisions. First we'd get married in a low key affair as quickly as possible. Also we decided to get on birth control pills. Early in the relationships I usually used condoms, but as the sex became routine we switched to the rhythm method. 

That night I had crazy, lucid dreams, with the last one being very vivid. I was younger, maybe high school or college, and had been pursuing a girl who I recognized, but couldn't place. She had been receptive to my advances, and I was even vaguely aware that I had cunnilingus with her. I was extremely horny. Eventually I stopped and she held my hand as we walked through the living room of my childhood home. 

The girl morphed into Natasha. I wasn't sure how and it didn't feel like it mattered. I found myself in my childhood kitchen. Natasha was laying on the counter naked, while somebody mysterious, like Anton, but different, was furiously fucking her. I stared at his cock as it jack-hammered her pussy, which looked different, more clean shaven. I was masturbating to the scene, but I could not achieve a worthwhile erection. There was no sensation of pleasure that I desperately wanted. I'd felt disappointed that I'd lost her. I had the sensation that I should not be there, so I tried to slink into a corner, keeping visual contact. That's what I dreamt as Natasha got off the bed at six in the morning and prematurely woke me.

The next day we found ourselves at the beach near Golden Gate Park. We were giddy all day, holding hands when we could as we walked through the Chinatown crowds and saw the sights. We'd made our way to the beach after lunch, and sat in the thick sand, our shoes off. Luckily the wind was low and the sun was warm enough to make the experience comfortable. The waves crashed mercilessly into the beach as they often do there.

We had an extremely intimate and romantic conversation. We recounted how we'd first met, how we'd fallen in love. We laughed over little forgotten details from our adventure together. At some point she snuggled up to me and asked when I decided to marry her. She'd unwittingly given me an opening to discuss her and Anton, something I'd refrained from doing all day.

"Well, I've known for a while that you were marriage material. But you know, I just didn't really want to bring it up. It's a tough choice, cutting myself off from all women." I snickered as I said it, an obvious joke and she elbowed me in mock anger. "But the truth is, after you told me about Anton, I just had this feeling I had to claim your or I could lose you."


Guiding Natasha



It was a great answer. She purred and kissed me. "You are so sweet," she cooed. "I love you so much."

"But you know," I continued, "I was serious last night about you kissing him."

"What?" she replied. "That is crazy. You want to keep me forever and tell me to kiss him? Do you want me to kiss other guys, like a..", she searched for the word, like a bitch? A whore?"

"No!" I reassured her. "It's not like that at all. It's just the situation. I think I was so horny from your lesbian kiss that it all just ran together."

"You're funny," she said. "I wondered why you didn't bring that up again."

Frankly, so did I, once she pointed that out. We discussed our relationship some more, but didn't really touch on those issues. We got up off the sand and brushed ourselves off. We made our way back to the streets and wandered back toward the hotel, hoping to catch a taxi on the way as it was a very long walk. I saw an adult store, and I pointed it out and suggested we both get something.

We were in a den of sexual pleasure. There was plenty of chuckles and "Holy Christ" type epitaphs as we saw rubber fists, elephant sized dildos, and penis pumps. Natasha let out a "My God" in Russian about ten times. I encouraged Natasha to get some sort of dildo, but she ended up choosing a standard six inch vibrator. At the cashier I stood there with her, embarrassed but with an extreme hard on. The clerk suggested lube and batteries, which would have left us sorely disappointed had he not reminded us, and we agreed. I was relieved to step back out onto the street, but couldn't wait to get back to the hotel.

That evening we had a ball. We tore our clothes off as soon as we got into the room and opened the package. At first Natasha lay down and I mistakenly tried to just lube it up, turn it up to 10 and shove it in there. She stopped me quickly. She adjusted the speed down and gently fucked herself with it, deeper with each stroke, pulling out to tease her clit. I just watched and jacked off. 

I watched the blue plastic disappear into her and tried to picture it being Anton's cock. I focused on how her skin stretched around the device. She complained a little about the temperature, but I told her to give it time, her body heat would warm it. I put more lube on as she directed. I found myself edging as I watched her. I'd imagine it was a real cock, get my cock good and hard, then stop. I didn't want to cum. I wanted the torture of dragging the thrill out. Eventually she wanted the real thing. I climbed on top of her and fucked her hard, pulling out and spurting in my fist to keep the sheets as clean as possible.

We lay there and made small talk, eventually my cock became able to get hard again. 

"You want to try it?" she asked. 

"Huh... what? That? In my ass?" I replied. I was kind of interested but didn't know how to say it without feeling completely emasculated.

"Get on your knees, like I do. Come on!" she said, smiling.

I did. I got up, put my head on the pillow and ass in the air. My cock hung down hard. She lubed up the vibrator and placed the tip on my anus. Honestly, it probably just looked fucking disgusting and I knew it. But she didn't comment on that, and she gently started to work it in. It hurt, but I promised myself that I'd try and get the whole thing in. How hard could it be?

As it turns out, it was really hard. My ass was not used to this. The vibrator wasn't that big, about as long but thinner than my dick, but my ass felt like it was stretched beyond all reasonable levels. I winced as it passed my rectum.

"Relax," she said, silencing me. "Relax and let it in." Her voice was soothing and hypnotic. I focused in on it.

"Imagine you are on the beach," she continued. "Nice warm sand. You are feeling this guy behind you. This handsome gay guy. He puts it in your ass. It slides in, slowly, bit by bit."

I growled at her. "What the fuck? Gay guy?"

She just laughed. "Imagine his dick going in and out of you. In and out." 

As she repeated it, I tried to play along. Frankly it didn't feel like a cock, it was hard. I suppose a hard cock would still be softer. And it fucking hurt. She reached underneath me and my cock had actually shriveled, pre-cum dripping everywhere. 

"Just stop!" I moaned. She pulled it out quickly. 

"Now you know how it feels!" she joked and slapped my ass.

"Christ that hurt. I didn't even think it would hurt that bad." My ass felt wrecked. In fact, I still felt it the next day and briefly considered a doctor visit before wisely deciding against it. I moaned as I lay on my side, trying to re-arrange my ass, and looked at her.

"Well I guess you are not gay. I thought with all your talk about Anton that maybe you were hiding something from me." 

I grinned and shot back "Fuck, if I was gay we wouldn't have such a great relationship, in bed and out. Christ!" It was funny, though, and I was laughing.

And then I quickly added in a super fast voice "But you still have a pass to kiss him if you want."

She just shook her head at me in mock bemusement.

"I'm going to test you again." She said. Opening her mouth, she proceeded to give me a world class blowjob. She looked at me between sucks and demanded that I come as quickly as possible. It wasn't hard. After fair warning, I spurted into her mouth and she spit it into a towel. As a joke she did a mock napkin wipe at the corner of her mouth and I dutifully laughed. She used the restroom and came back and lay next to me.

"Did I pass?" I obnoxiously asked, proud of myself for coming so quickly.

"Oh no," she said. "Here is the test. I want you to fuck me. I haven't had my fun yet!" She gripped my cock and massaged it. It was too soon and was soft. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow as if to say sorry.

"I want you to imagine me kissing Anton." It grew. I was rock hard in ten seconds. "Wow!" she said.

"Did I pass now?" I said grinning? Even I was surprised.

"That depends on my point of view. You are such a pervert!"

"Agreed," I replied, and I got on top of her to fuck her. We both came.

The next day we checked out and returned home. We weren't due at Anton and Sveta's house until 5 pm, so we washed clothes and generally went about our daily chores. When we got there, I handed Sveta a bottle of red, and I was herded to the back patio where Anton was grilling. The girls stayed inside the kitchen, preparing the rest of the dishes for the evening. Anton greeted me and had me sit down. We made small talk and eventually the topic of the lesbian kiss came up. It broke the ice. 

"Hey, uh. I just kind of wanted to apologize. I was kind of, well, not proper, with Natasha." He looked at me with a blank look on his face. He seemed sincere, but it was a difficult topic.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm not a jealous guy. We both really like you so it's no big deal. I think my wife really likes you."

I don't know why I added that last sentence. My brain was manipulating everybody at light speed. I wanted to plant the seed in Anton's head that he had a chance if he tried something again, and I wouldn't get mad.

"Really? Well, I was a little drunk. I'm sorry and thanks for understanding." I wasn't sure if he got the message, but at the least he felt all was right between us.

The rest of the night was normal. After dinner we left to get to bed early and start the work-week right.

After that, things were pretty routine. I didn't want to come off as a pest, so I didn't hassle Natasha about Anton. It just seemed a little too much, even for me. I didn't want to come off as obsessive. Three months later, Natasha's parents and her brother ended up staying with us and it was a blast. At the end of their visit, we had our wedding ceremony and reception at a bed and breakfast in Half Moon Bay. I couldn't believe I was committing myself to one person for the rest of my life, but what a woman she was. 

We had the first dance, and she was beautiful in her wedding dress. Later Anton danced with her while I danced with Sveta. It was a slow romantic number, and our eyes met across the dance floor. I smelled Sveta's skin, her body tight against mine as she offered me her congratulations once again. This combined with the sight of my wife and Anton set my lust factor all the way to ten. When the dance was over, she kissed him on the cheek. I walked over to Natasha and whispered that I think Sveta could feel my hardness. She just laughed and said she definitely felt Anton's. I felt lust and angst. They danced many more times. I only danced with Sveta once more as she circulated amongst other friends.

Because we'd taken so much time off work, we decided to have our honeymoon in early summer of the next year. We considered Hawaii or Mexico, and were hanging out discussing our plans with Anton and Sveta when they told us they were actually going to Spain, and maybe, well, would we like to go as two couples? It turned out the reason they chose Spain was Sveta had some close friends from home that now lived in Barcelona. We would all arrive in Spain on the southern coast, then she would travel to Barcelona for a few days and rejoin us. As they explained this to us I couldn't believe my ears. For obvious reasons I was all for it, but I was hesitant to be too enthusiastic. It didn't matter. My wife loved the idea.

We were all so happy we had a wonderful evening. Drinks flowed and somehow Sveta and I got caught up in a conversation about life in the U.S. My wife and Anton danced and sang in the living room. I couldn't see everything they did as we were in a different room. After it was over, Natasha announced that it was time to leave. I thought it was just getting started. We bid our goodbyes and hopped in the car. Natasha was clearly drunk. She kissed me and demanded to be driven home now, clearly because she wanted sex.

As I pulled onto the highway, she grabbed my hand and put it between her crotch. She was completely out of character. 

"You like dancing tonight huh?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Just get me home now."

I wondered if somehow Anton had made some advance on her I hadn't known about.

"Did he touch you? Kiss you?"

She nodded.

There was an uncomfortable silence. I spoke up. "I think that Spain trip sounds like fun."

"I'm starting to wonder if it's a bad idea."

Darn, I wish I hadn't brought it up. I tried to salvage the situation. "Let's just get you home and worry about that later."

That evening she wanted me to finger her, something I didn't normally do. First she wanted one finger, then two. "More," she begged, so I tried three but it was just too uncomfortable for her so I had sex with her. By this time she was on the pill, so I grunted and drove my cock into her deeply as I came. It was perhaps the most satisfying orgasm I had ever known. 

At this point, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh what had I done? I agreed to go on honeymoon, part of which would be with a temporarily single guy that cause extreme passion in my wife? The pleasure of the angst turned to despair. She asked me to get the vibrator. I quickly grabbed it and watched as she had sex with it. I ducked to wash up and came out after a few minutes. She looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Come over here, let's do it again. I need you, not this plastic thing." I genuinely felt sorry for her. I approached the bed and she touched my cock. "I think you need a test."

As she said Anton's name, my cock rose, an eager soldier ready to serve.

She was insatiable.

The next morning she acted as if nothing the previous night ever happened, but I woke up a bundle of nerves. Again I had strange sexual dreams, with me never quite attaining pleasure. I wanted to say something, anything to address last night's events and the future. When I mentioned how she was an animal she just smiled and agreed, but didn't pursue the conversation. It was annoying. The days turned into weeks and before I knew it, things were back to almost normal. 

Somehow we seemed to see Anton and Natasha a little less, and when we did see them, it was in a group setting with others, so nothing from that night was replicated. With about three months to go, Natasha would exchange emails with Anton and Sveta, related to the trip. Anton would in English tell my wife not to worry, we were going to have some great adventures. He'd sprinkle in terms like "dear" and "baby" with her. I noticed he didn't copy me on these messages, but Natasha wasn't particularly secretive about her email and would show them to me if there was information I needed to make a travel decision. She never mentioned the banter specifically. I found myself excited but slightly humiliated.

Eventually the day of the trip arrived. We all met at the airport and I was extremely excited. The flights were uneventful. We made our way to London, and then to the airport in Malaga. Evidently this was a popular destination for tourists from the UK, as well as the rest of Europe. It was on the flight over that I finally got the full story on Sveta's travel plans. She would take rail to Barcelona in two days, and stay for three nights. My heart pumped with this news. If it was going to happen, it would all be over in five days or so. I breathed deeply as I processed the math.

The weather was fantastic if a little hot. I was surprised out much of the area seemed like a desert. I hadn't imagined Europe could be like this. We arrived at the hotel in the evening around dinnertime, but after eating we went to bed straight away. Even with the time change, the flight including layover in London had been about 16 hours. At some point my lust was overcome by sleepiness. We had adjoining rooms seven stories up, but our room was next to a noisy elevator. I went downstairs with a 10 Euro note and tried to get us moved, but nothing was available. Resigned to it, we fell asleep. The next day we all met and made plans with the travel desk at the hotel. We booked day trips to Seville, Toledo and Granada. We decided to orient ourselves and walked the streets of Torremolinos. After sampling a Tapas Bar, we returned to the hotel for our first beach excursion.

The beach was nice. We paid for umbrella lounge chairs and the first thing I noticed was the topless women. Not all the women were topless, but many were, and they were of all ages, shapes and sizes. Sveta took off her top. Her tits were larger, and had a nice sized aureola. My wife and I looked at each other and Sveta convinced her to also take it off. There were our women, their beautiful jugs on display. 

"Come on guys," said Sveta. "Have a look, get it over with." We all laughed as Anton and I made an obvious show of staring at their breasts.

I walked to the beach with Anton, feeling my crotch to make sure my cock wasn't poking out through the Velcro strip fastener in front. We both got in the Mediterranean water. It wasn't too cold, but it was a little murkier than I'd imagined. I had visions of James Bond bursting out of a blue grotto in his amphibious car, but this looked a lot like a typical California beach, just more developed. You could drink a beer at a beach-side bar. People sold ice cream and trinkets and it wasn't a crime like it was back in supposedly laid back California.

As the sun set behind the hotel, the beach cooled and gradually emptied. We made our way back to the hotel. We all washed up and dressed for dinner. The food in the buffet was excellent. We decided over our plates to check out the pool bar and that's what we did. After a detour to our rooms, we all dressed down and went back to the pool area. Over drinks I struck up conversation with some Brits and the rest of our little group somehow found some Russian speakers to gab with. 

The jet lag was catching up to us and Sveta excused herself to go up and sleep. I went over to my wife and asked her if she wanted to do the same. She demurred and I told her I was tired, so I left, highly aroused but inwardly laughing at my pathetic attempt to get them together. I went back into my room and walked to the balcony that oversaw the pool. Luckily our room had this to compensate for the sound of the elevator. Of course I wasn't tired at all. I wanted to spy.

I turned off all the lights and walked over to a curtained window, pulled it apart slightly, and pulled up a chair. After a minute of this I was bored so I decided to watch CNN International on one of the hotel channels and just check periodically. At one point I heard music start of the patio below and sure enough, they started to dance. I looked around and saw the TV controller on the counter by the TV. I got up, rushed over and turned it off, before returning to my seat. I pulled down my shorts and looked out the window. They were still there. I massaged my penis. Again, nothing out of order seemed to be happening. They were just enjoying time together, nothing overtly sexual.

After five minutes of this I saw him duck into the bar. She walked into an area where the women's restrooms were located and I lost her. I closed my eyes and pumped my shaft, trying to get a little pre-cum to lubricate myself. After a minute I looked out again. Still nobody. I looked everywhere but didn't see them. Had they gone off together? I felt that angst. Somehow it wasn't right, me not being able to watch them. I stroked my cock some more. I was really starting to feel it. The lubrication had come, and that electric buzz was coming on. Suddenly I heard the doorknob click and the door opened. I froze! She was already coming through the door as I snapped out of it and furiously pulled my shorts up. 

"Oh, hi honey. I saw you looking at us." She said with a smile. "I thought you were tired?"

I played it off as coolly as possible. "I was, I just, you know, wanted to see if you were coming to bed."

"Sure. Such a bad boy you are. I must have seen you at the window three times over the last fifteen minutes."

I kicked myself for being that obvious but decided to pivot the conversation.

"You coming to bed?" I raised an eyebrow. I wanted to pull her skirt up and bend her over.

She smirked. "Honestly, I'm just tired. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

We both tried to sleep but that damn elevator kept moving just as we'd nod off. All I could think of was what a total waste the day had been. My attempts to facilitate a sexual relationship between my wife and another man had been fruitless. I felt ashamed thinking about it in that manner. What kind of a pussy was I? Just fuck her myself! She's my wife! But she hadn't even wanted sex. At least I could blame the jet lag. And I started to imagine the problems I'd face if she did do something with him. How could I look him in the eye? How could I face his wife? I didn't want her to be a chump. My wife's cheating might be morally okay in my eyes, but Anton's certainly would be worse, and I would be responsible. Still, I felt the need to toss one off before I went to bed. Maybe it would settle my nerves. I crept to the bathroom as quietly as possible, found a towel and sat back against the counter and went to work, trying to finish what I'd started. Yes that was it, be glad nothing was happening. 

Five minutes later, with my dick somewhat sore from the evenings attempts at masturbation, I succeeded. It only happened because I had a mental picture of Anton fucking my wife in the hotel bed. In the aftermath I felt worse than ever. What the hell was wrong with me?

The next morning we all met up for breakfast. The girls moved towels out early to reserve poolside deck chairs, as we intended to enjoy the water on Sveta's last full day before she went to see her friends. The hotel facilities were not topless, so although the view wasn't as pleasant, at least we didn't have to wash sand off our bodies or swim in muddy salt water. We could also get all kinds of drinks on the hotel tab. We spent the day sunning and reading until lunchtime. Sveta and Anton decided to check out a restaurant that had been recommended, and we decided to eat lunch in the hotel and dine out when evening arrived. 




Guiding Natasha



Anton and Sveta never returned. We pouted to each other in private over drinks by the pool but understood they wanted alone time before she left the next day. Still, we were wasting the day waiting for them when we could be exploring the city. Finally we convinced each other to enjoy the evening. We took a walk, hand in hand, down the night-time beach. It was romantic.

The black water of the sea, punctuated occasionally by a light from a boat anchored off-shore seemed sinister. I wondered if sharks would patrol the nocturnal waters. Stars filled the sky black sky, and a cool breeze blew in. We left our sandals on as we let the incoming waves lap around our ankles. I talked my wife into trying to have sex somewhere on the beach. We walked up to some bushes and looked around to see if we were sufficiently isolated. We lay down on the beach and I kissed her and caressed her legs. Between the sand in weird places and the fear of being caught it didn't work. I made some joke about how it would be better to be fucked in the ass, as she had imagined that night in San Francisco. She thought that was hilarious. So we gave up, sexually frustrated, but in good spirits.

When we got back we met both of them also just arriving. They had some bags with souvenirs they'd bought. They had spent all day together, enjoying the town. We all agreed to meet at the pool bar for a nightcap. We did, but none of us were in a party mood. They were tired from walking around on a sunny day, and we blamed the elevator for our lack of sleep. As we returned to our rooms, I offered once again to try and change rooms and went to the front desk, but they couldn't. 

I returned to our room, ironically in the same elevator that made us so miserable. When I got there, Natasha wasn't there. I heard laughing from the other room, knocked and they let me in.

"So, honey, they offered to let me sleep in this room tonight!"

There were two queen beds. I replied, "Sure, that's okay, I guess." 

"Can you get my bag honey?" She said with a big smile. 

Immediately I went over and brought it back. We chatted a bit longer and eventually they said they wanted to get to sleep. I went back to my lonely room and changed for bed. Before I lay down, I put my ear to the wall. It was silent so they must have truly settled down to sleep. I lay in the dark. There I was, the second night of my honeymoon, I hadn't had sex and my wife was sleeping in another room. It occurred to me that I was an outsider. I'd always sort of felt that way with my wife's friends. 

I contemplated how I'd detached from most of my friends after I brought Natasha to the States, and had unconsciously made a whole set of new friends through her. It wasn't bad, but I realized sometimes I missed talking to people who understood my references to pop culture, politics, and humor. Spain was great, but the lack of English exacerbated the feeling. Again I lamented that they even had their own sleepover on my honeymoon, and I was on the outside looking in! I fell asleep mad.

The next morning was a little awkward as we saw Sveta off from the hotel lobby. Suddenly it was just the three of us. A few days ago I would have been thrilled, but now I just felt empty jitters. I'd decided before lunch that I most decidedly did not want my wife playing around with Anton. The anger of the previous night carried over. 

The hurdles I'd have to navigate as a cuckold husband seemed insurmountable. Our relationship with our friends could be irreparably damaged. That attitude lasted about two hours. Anton had brought us a few beers by the pool. At some point I left to use the facilities and when I returned he was applying sunscreen to her back. I went for a quick swim and watched them as I paused in the shallow end to get my breath back. I imagined them together, married, instead of with me. My penis hardened against the netting inside my swim trunks. I swam another deep lap to kill it. I didn't want to come out of the pool with a raging hard-on.

I wanted to pull my spying stunt again. The booze had been working it's way into my brain, and my judgement was clouded. As I toweled off I mentioned I wanted to take a siesta. I grabbed my things out of the bag I shared with Natasha, including both our room keys, and went upstairs to lock myself in the room. I wanted her to be forced to hang out with Anton. If she knocked I'd not answer and later claim I was temporarily out, apologizing for accidentally taking her key. Sure enough, about 45 minutes later their was a knock at the door. I had nodded off and awoke with a jolt. I briefly considered letting her in but then I heard them talking about going to his room. I sat their for fifteen minutes after I heard their door open and shut. I could hear the sound of the shower running. I imagined them both in the shower, the water running out of her hair, and down the crack of her ass. I fantasized about him taking her, making love in the shower.

I decided to go to their room and solve the room key issue. I knew my fantasy was just that, and sure enough, my wife opened the door in all her normal attire, and Anton was still in the bathroom getting dressed. I explained I'd gone to the lobby to attempt to get another room. She believed it. 

I resolved to go to Plan B. Alcohol, and lots of it.

That evening after dinner we all went down to the pool bar. There was a small crowd and some familiar faces so we mingled. Every half hour I brought Anton and Natasha refilled drinks, irregardless of who they were speaking with. I was on a mission to loosen them up. 

The music started and my wife barely needed encouragement to dance with me. We all danced as a group, and it was awkward, but that was part of my plan. Eventually a slow song came on and I danced with my wife. We'd break for more drinks and start again. Finally a slow song came on again.

"Anton," I said, "You look so lonely. Let me dance with you." 

He looked at me oddly but Natasha got the joke and we all had a good ice breaking laugh.

"Honey, why don't you show Anton a good time," I said, "I need a break and he needs the company."

She happily danced with him. It wasn't the first time, but it was intense for me. They danced chest to chest. At first he grabbed her hip, but smoothly just slid it down to her ass. He was feeling her ass, I'd never seen that. The chatted as they danced, but eventually she put her head on his shoulder. She didn't or wouldn't make eye contact. When it was done she went to the bar while he came over to me.

I realized I needed to push buttons, navigate the evening and not just leave everything to luck and fate.

"See Anton, I'm not a jealous guy." These were my first words as he sat down next to me. I handed him another drink and he declined. 

"Well, it's not like I kissed her." He replied.

"Well you see, good buddy, good pal, my wife and I, we've been married forever," I said, and he laughed at the sarcasm, "So if you kiss her again, just make sure to videotape it. I kinda like watching you two together."

We both laughed. I wondered if he understood I wasn't joking.

With that my wife came by with some waters and we all drank them to counteract the effects of dehydration from all the booze. I didn't want to feel horrible the next day, but I was lit. Again my wife grabbed my hand to dance, but I just grabbed her and started kissing her in front of Anton. She was extremely receptive. 

I whispered in her ear, "Just watching you two together. If he tries to kiss you, let him. Come on honey, it's the perfect time."

I told her I was going to the restroom, but really I was just putting distance between them and me. I wanted to see how it would play out. When a slow song came on, he got up and invited her to dance. She obliged. The entire time his hand cupped her ass, and her head lay on his shoulder. 

The song ended and people started clapping but she just looked up and he kissed her full on the mouth. Somehow I had done all I could to get to this moment, but I had butterflies furiously beating in the pit of my stomach as I watched. Far from being satisfied, I was overcome by feelings of shame. Yet it was incredibly erotic. When they broke their kiss they looked at me and I just golf clapped, playing it cool.

They returned hand in hand and made a big happy show of saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry honey, I just couldn't help myself!" 

She was protecting my pride, bless her heart. She had no idea I'd given Anton the green light.

"Hey, come here!" I said in mock bewilderment. She sat on my lap and I leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Oh that made me horny."

"I can tell!" She said, bouncing up and down jokingly on my stiffy.

"Sit on his lap."

Anton just stared at her as she straddle his lap. She faced him in his chair, grabbed him on the shoulders and straddled him. She had to adjust her skirt up just to get her legs around him. She was being sultry, yet comedic. She was testing the waters but trying to be non-threatening. She looked over at me as she mock hugged him, "Oh dear, Anton, you are all alone tonight. Maybe your friends can make it better."

He responded by kissing her, passionately, on the lips. Instead of withdrawing, she scooted in even closer, if that was possible, and made out with him. I felt so turned on but sick to my stomach. My cock was over-riding my senses. Eventually she stood up an hopped onto me and did the same thing. Fellow hotel guests around us noticed and a drunk girl even clapped and cheered her on.

"Let's go upstairs." I said in her ear, and I led her up, and motioned for Anton to follow us. 

All of my senses were heightened. I felt like an animal in danger, my adrenaline effecting me in physical ways. As we entered the elevator, I noticed my hand was shaking as I pushed the buttons. Anton grabbed her again and they made out on the way up. I basically functioned as a pathfinder, opening doors and guiding them into my room. Into my long term memory were imprinted the color of the drapes, the feeling of cool, air conditioned hotel room air as it enveloped me as we entered. 

I realized I had to use the bathroom and dashed in, closing the door behind me and hitting the now seemingly bright lights. My cock was so hard I had to sit down to pee and let my body calm down until the flow started. It must have took at least two minutes from fitful start to finish. I was so excited I had to stuff my cock back into my underwear manually. 

I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. It seemed time had slowed. I looked in the mirror. I gave myself a big smile. It felt like I was looking at somebody else. I felt ugly. I felt helpless. I snapped back into reality and realized I'd been away from any possible action for at least a couple of minute. I turned off the lights, then gently opened the door.

My wife was facing away from me as she made out with Anton. The drapes were open, but the lights were off. The glow of the lights from the night outside illuminated them slightly. Already her skirt was on the floor around her ankles. His shirt was off. He stroked the outside of her thighs gently, the backs of his hands on her skin on the way up, his palms on the way down. As they did this I just stood there frozen.

What the hell was I supposed to do? This seemed perfect. I didn't want to ruin anything, not the mood, nor atmosphere. I didn't dare re-close the door out of fear the sound would break the trance. I focused on my wife's ass while they continued to kiss and stroke each other. My eyes were adjusting to the dim room. Through the gap between her legs I watched his fingers rub her panty covered pussy. He tried to finger her, but cloth denied entry. Her panties clung obscenely into her sex as he removed his fingers. They must have been sticky with her wetness. 

I trembled and I swear my heart stopped as I saw what she did next. She stepped out of her skirt and and started to squat down, kissing his bare chest on the way down. He unbuckled his pants, she unbutton them and pulled them down. Her panties stretched wide across globes of her ass and hips. She didn't even grab his penis. It stuck straight out so she opened her mouth sucked it. Back and forth her head bobbed as she made love to it with her lips. I imagined she could taste his pre-sperm. My stomach dropped.

After a minute of this she stood up and turned around to look at me, a smile on her face. 

"I need to use the restroom, sorry!" She said as she pranced back toward me. She quickly gave me a peck on the cheek as she ran past and closed the bathroom door. 

Anton seemed embarrassed, reaching down to pull up his pants.

"Ssh, don't do that," I whispered. "It's all good." 

I didn't want to get too close to him. I didn't want to weird him out, and frankly it would have felt odd to me, even considering what I had just seen. I absentmindedly scratched an itch on my cheek, and I inwardly laughed. It was Natasha's sperm and saliva mix. I knew because it didn't wipe off, but seemed to spread down my cheek, coating it, as I felt it with a fingertip. I sat on a small comfortable chair, by the balcony. The same one I'd used to scope those two out earlier.

She seemed to take forever. I wondered if she was changing her mind. I didn't say anything to Anton, who by this time was sitting on the bed, his dick semi-hard. I couldn't help but glance at it. Even in this light it seemed animalistic compared to my familiar circumcised penis. He was uncut so in the semi-hard state, the phrase 'tube-snake', came to mind. My own cock hardened as I imagined it injecting into my wife. Hell, it's venom was on my cheek. It wasn't venom at all. We looked up simultaneously to the front of the room when we heard the door click. Natasha ran over to the bed, her panties were now missing. 

Before I could say a word Anton and her just started making out on the bed. She grabbed his cock, and jacked it a few times so it became hard in seconds. No longer a 'tube-snake', it seemed like a proper penis, the head engorged past his foreskin. The vein pattern was foreign. It seemed aggressive. He slid his hands down between her crotch and slipped a finger in. Natasha moaned heavily. He fucked her with his hand, fingering her. Natasha's moan was loud and continuous. Between breaths she'd gasp out 'Yes' in Russian, "Da. Da. Da".

I started to jack off but I fucked up and accidentally ruined my orgasm. My balls had produced so much cum my underwear was sticky. I had no problem coaxing more clear liquid from my penis tip to lubricate my cock. He must have fingered her for another couple of minutes. The nerves under my shaft were electric. 

"Oh baby," she said to me, "look at me. Don't you enjoy this? Anton feeling me?"

The sight of her pussy being raped by his fingers was so erotic, but I didn't want to come. But, I'd waited a split second too long.

"No, no, no, no!" I mentally cursed myself. Like a kid knowing they were about to go over the first big hill of a roller-coaster, I just knew I was going to spurt.

And my cock pumped thick white sperm out without the intense pleasure normally induced. I didn't have anything to clean myself with. 

His hand was vibrating between her legs. She balled her fists and slammed them into the mattress. 

She looked at me and said, "Fuck Me. Fuck me now."

I stood up, excited. With a ruined orgasm it is possible to get hard again very quickly. I pulled off my clothes and slid onto the bed ready to mount her, but when she grabbed my cock she said, "What? You already finished?"

The question was rhetorical because instead of me getting to explain, she said, "That's okay. Anton, fuck me now." And she pulled him over on top of her.

I watched another man prepare to mount my wife. He nudged her legs apart, one over his shoulder, the other kicked out toward me. I reached out and grabbed her calf. Her vagina was obscenely displayed. His fingering had turned her normally tight little slit into a small gash. I could see into the hollow of her vagina, a round hole surrounded by pink flesh. He leaned in and placed his now rock hard penis tip on her pussy and purposely dragged it up and down her cunt lips. Then he pushed it in. 

Natasha yelped sharply, "Ohhhhh."

My wife was getting fucked. Anton's cock seemed to disappear completely inside her has he thrust so hard an audible slap was heard. He pulled out slowly, then quickly pistoned in again. She didn't vocalize at all. On penetrating stroke she would breath in sharply, when he was all the way in her breath with hesitate, as if she was getting into a cold pool, and finally the exhale as he pulled back. That was how I witnessed my wife getting railed by our friend.

I stroked her leg more aggressively, anything to be part of the action. My cock was already hard again and I pumped my cock furiously with my free hand. I tried to maneuver so that she would jack me off, but she was so consumed by the fucking that she squeezed too hard, as if she was balling her fists again from the pleasure.

Anton was done with the teasing. His goal was complete and total orgasm and he quickened the pace, and then he grunted as he pressed his cock deep insider her and held it. For some reason that grunt has always stayed with me. It was the moment I realized his muscles in and around his balls and the base of his penis contracted, forcing out his white ejaculate, hundreds of millions of sperm into her vagina, the semen slightly thick, to ensure that it doesn't drain out immediately. I silently thanked God that she was on the pill. He pulled out and flopped down on top of her, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you both."

I spurted onto the carpet. It was not a ruined orgasm. 

We all breathed out in relief and flopped down onto the bed. Even on a queen sized mattress it was kind of a tight squeeze. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak. I asked if anybody wanted a drink of water and they both said yes. I got up and filled two glasses for them. Both of them were sitting at the head of the bed, as if they were just reading a book or watching TV, a single sheet now covering them to keep them warm. I slid in next to them.

"That was great." I volunteered, and they both laughed.

"My God it hurt so bad. So good, but it was painful. Maybe he's a little bigger than I thought." Natasha said.

"Thank you, guys." Anton repeated. I think he was stunned.

"Don't thank me," Natasha said. "It was his idea."

I sat their uncomfortably, a guilty smile on my face. The butterflies returned to me stomach. Oh Christ, the unintended consequences. 

I tried to explain myself. "I can't help it, I guess it's my kink. I saw you two together and my mind just got rolling. When you tried to kiss Natasha at that party it just well, set a ticking time bomb, I guess."

"Oh, tried to kiss?" He laughed. "Is that what you told him?"

Natasha went red and put a pillow to her face. "Sorry, sorry!" And she looked at me again, "Should I tell him about the vibrator?"

"No!"

I felt so stupid. I regretted everything. Here I was trying to explain myself and I was just feeling more ashamed every time somebody opened their mouth.

"Please?" She asked.

"Fine." And I gulped.

"Well, we were at a hotel, when he asked me to marry him, and we had this vibrator. Well, I wanted to give him the gay test."

Anton chuckled, "The gay test?"

"Yes, I got him to bend over and put it in."

"Gay!" Anton announced.

Everybody laughed, me with mortification. 

"No," Natasha said. He couldn't keep his thing up, so he passed. Not gay.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the vowel 'O', "but why give him the gay test?"

"Because he couldn't stop talking about you during sex!" And she laughed and he just looked at me smiling with one eyebrow up.

I had a smile pasted to my face. Inside I wanted to die. I wanted Anton to think of me as an equal. Perhaps it was a ridiculous fantasy, but I had hope, and that hope seemed to crash around me.




Guiding Natasha



"The gay test." Anton repeated.

"Oh but wait, we had another test." And she looked at my cock. It was hard. I had just noticed it. Since I was sitting next to him, they could all see it.

"It's hard!" She exclaimed. "See, the test was to say your name to get him hard."

"It seems to me he failed the gay test. Like, the now gay test." Said Anton and he laughed. He wouldn't shut up about that stupid test.

Natasha looked at me. "Yeah. That is weird."

"I'm not gay! It's just, you know, the situation."

"Don't be ashamed," said Anton, "Gay, not gay you know I don't care. I'm just giving you a hard time. I'm sorry."

I got up and went to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror. This was the greatest and worst night all wrapped into one. What had I done? The door opened and Natasha came in and snuggled up next to me.

"Hey, I have a question." She asked.

"What?"

"Can I sleep in Anton's room tonight?"

"Alone?"

She looked me in the eyes. "You have been so great. I'll give you a free pass for tonight. Find anybody out there by the bar you want. Please?"

"Okay." I said.

When I came out of the bathroom, Anton was leaving. Natasha grabbed a few things and went over to his room. 

A half hour later I was down by the pool bar. I scanned the crowd but didn't really see any single women. I made conversation with people, but the entire time my stomach felt empty. I was nervous, didn't want to drink, and couldn't see any prospects for me. I decided to return to my room.

When I returned all seemed quiet. I lay down in the dark again, in the bed where I'd witnessed my wife having sex. I remembered Anton coming in my wife, because where she sat there was a giant cold wet spot. I couldn't help myself, and put my nose into it. I licked it. It smelled like cum. The juice had already soaked into the fabric, so it didn't have substance. I masturbated again. That's when I heard movement in the next room. It was a rythmic pounding of the bed. I put my ear against the wall and heard my wife moaning. They were speaking in Russian when they said anything. I ejaculated into some discarded underwear.

I knew we had a tour scheduled for the next day. I set the alarm and listened to my wife having sex in the next room. I felt awful. How would I deal with them tomorrow. I was no longer an equal. I felt like a bad person, one who had fucked up his entire future. 

I woke up to Natasha coming into the room. She gave me a hug and thanked me. She jumped into the shower. We were very close to being late for the tour. We hustled outside to the meeting area where the bus was waiting for us. I tour guide checked our names against a list. We both got on.

I eyed the rows of passengers warily as my wife and I boarded the tour bus. Sure enough, we had botched it by being late and there wasn't a spot where two people could sit together. There he was, though, fifth row. Anton. He had one seat reserved with his backpack. Of course my wife, Natasha, sat with him. Damn. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was uncomfortable.

They were holding hands.