13 comments/ 118902 views/ 16 favorites Monterey By: WillB It wasn't something that began slowly, gaining significance and momentum over a long period of time, but rather, it was like an epiphany of sorts. One day—actually, it was at night—the notion suddenly occurred to me: Of all the sexual fantasies that had ever inhabited my brain, the one that excited me the most, by far, was that of my wife being fucked by another man, while I watched. I knew at the time of this thoughtful revelation, that such a fantasy was much more commonplace than people readily admitted; it was hardly something most husbands would be sharing with pollsters. I had read and heard of such fantasies in magazines and other media, so when the concept occasionally crept into my head during times of sexual arousal, I chalked it off to flights of fancy that people often take to stimulate their flagging libidos, or enhance the ones they already had. It wasn't really so different from the widely held suspicion that women stereotypically fantasize about being taken forcibly by a stranger, or getting soundly banged by a black man with a large penis. These were fantasies that, by their very nature, were forbidden thoughts that provoked a sexual response, but rarely had any foundation in reality. Not that it couldn't happen, just that the fantasies were only that, like the momentary urge to murder someone that has violated your world in some way. It felt good to think it at the time, but that's as far as it ever went. I suppose I can attribute the actual moment of epiphany to the night when the fantasy of sharing Lisa was for whatever reason more stimulating than usual for me. Without intending to elicit any particular response from her, but simply to enhance the excitement I was feeling at the moment, I happened to broach the subject for the first time when we were actively engaged in a Mister and Missus. "Honey, do women really fantasize about other men when they're doing it with their husbands?" "Huh?" "You know, do wives secretly imagine that it's another man doing it to them? Right then?" She was concentrating on getting off, and I had interrupted her focus, I guess. "Uh, yeah, I guess some do. I don't know. Come on, I'm almost there!" I went ahead and brought her off, not wanting to spoil the mood. But I then dropped down to administer a little oral stimulation so I could continue the conversation. "I just wondered if women would really enjoy having sex with other men, if they knew it wouldn't jeopardize their marriage." "Oh, God, Bill. The thoughts you have sometimes." "I just wanted to know, that's all." "Just keep doing what you're doing. It feels so good." I did, but I also kept the subject in play. "Everybody has fantasies when they're having sex, I was just curious if women . . . wives . . . think about other men. If it turns them on." "Probably." "What, like getting fucked, or getting eaten out, or . . .?" "Damn it, Bill, how would I know what they think about?" "Well, do you . . . ever think about it?" "Think about what?" She was becoming agitated . . . or was it stimulated? Her body was reacting to our exchange. I couldn't seem to let the matter drop, not when I was getting a response. "Another man fucking you, or eating you. You know, just as a fantasy." "Maybe. But that's my business, not any of yours!" "Honey, it doesn't bother me at all if you do. I just wanted to know, that's all." "Well, now you know. Maybe sometimes I do. But it's not anyone I know, or you know. It's just a body without a face. So please forget it and make love to me." "Okay. But it does turn me on knowing that you have those kinds of thoughts. It really does." Lisa soon climaxed against my mouth. And when I resumed fucking her, she came bigger than usual. As did I. It was then that I knew it was more than a flight of fancy just for me: it was a very possible maybe. Once the significance of it sunk in, it became deeply etched in my brain that there was no greater stimulus for me than the goal of transforming the maybe into a real possibility. I didn't want to risk alienating Lisa by hounding her with my new-found obsession, so I didn't bring it up at every opportunity. But I did mention it every so often, at strategic moments, and more often than not received a positive and encouraging response. I knew it turned her on to think about it, it was just a matter of bringing it closer to a level of acceptability. After so many times subtly broaching the subject with her when we were having sex, I had it down to a near science, as to what to say and when to say it, to yield the greatest response. Even so, I was a little surprised, pleasantly, when her response this particular evening was far more positive than ever before, as I murmured the usual words while eating her towards her first orgasm. Perhaps the three glasses of wine helped her to be more open. She was moaning softly when I said, between oral applications to her wetness, "Do you really think about someone else doing this to you?" "Mmmm." "Well, do you? Some good- looking guy that knows how to do it?" "Mmmm, maybe," she murmured back. "Does it make you wet when you think about it?" "Sometimes." She wasn't real verbose at times like this. She was working up to a pretty good pop when I asked, "You ever think about it when you're alone, touching yourself?" "Uh, uh . . . don't stop . . . keep . . . yeah, like that." "Answer me, and I'll keep doing it." "Oh, God, yes . . . I sometimes think . . . unh . . . about . . . it . . . unh . . . unh, unh ,unh . . . Oh, shit!" She spasmed, her lower body and legs shaking through her first of the evening. I waited a few moments before I resumed my licking, knowing that she's a little sensitive down there for a minute or so after coming. She continued to purr softly, but said nothing. "Do you come good when you think about it?" I said as I began mouthing her again. "Sometimes. Does that surprise you?" "No. In fact, it excites me." "Oh, yeah?" "Oh, yeah. A lot." She giggled softly, then continued breathing heavily. "Is it anyone we know?" "Who?" "The guy that's eating you and making you come." "Nobody in particular. You know, just a faceless guy that makes it feel real good. I've told you before that my fantasies . . . those kind . . . that the guy doesn't have . . . a face . . . I can see." "You like getting eaten out, don't you?" She began to squirm. "No shit." I held off further Q&A for the time being, allowing her to buck through another one, this time a little more intense and loud. The next stage in our routine was for me to lie back on the bed and she'd give me some oral attention in return. She was on her knees next to my left hip, leaning over and sucking up and down over the head as her right hand stroked the length, while her left cradled and fondled my balls. After a minute or so, I resumed my patter. "You ever think about doing that to your faceless guy, you know, to return the favor?" She took her mouth off it briefly to answer. "Yeah, sometimes." "Do you make him come? Doing that to him?" She giggled again, "No silly, I want him to fuck me first!" I sat up, pulling my throbbing boner from her lips. "Like this?" I flipped her over and buried myself in her in a pair of seconds. I was fucking her missionary style, which was the easiest position to carry on a conversation. The next easiest was her on top, facing me, but that usually came later. "You know, you're getting me really hot," I said. "Oh? Why?" She teased me to the point of distraction with her feigned innocence. She was building up to another orgasm. "Hearing about you getting eaten, then blowing some guy, then having him fuck you. I mean, jeez, what do you expect?" "He's not real, though, just someone I fantasize about." "So it's always the same faceless stranger?" "No, not all the time." "Christ, Lisa, you're gonna make me come just talking about it!" "Oh, yeah?" Some more teasing, and it was working. "Oh, shit, I gotta stop before I come!" "Hey, what about me?" she protested, as I climbed off and lay back alongside her. "I'll give you some more, but first let me rest a little; otherwise it'll be all over." I reached over and played with her wet and open pussy, just to keep her in the mood. Once she started squirming a little, I started talking again. "You have no idea how turned on you make me." "Is that so bad?" "Of course not. So, you fantasize about different guys on occasion?" "Yeah, a few." "Anyone we know?" She paused far too long before saying, "No comment." At least she was being honest. She could have said they were all faceless, but with different bodies and skills for the specific need at the moment. But she didn't. That was a positive sign. She looked at me for a few moments, then said, "You're not going to lay there and tell me you don't fantasize about being with other women." "Of course I do. But . . . look, can I be honest with you?" ""You'd better be," she said with affected menace in her voice and expression. "Actually . . . most of my fantasies are about men . . ." "Bill!" ". . . with you." She laid there speechless for a few beats, probably thinking about what I said and enjoying what my fingers were doing to her. Then she sat up and reached for her wine glass from the nightstand, draining it. "Here," she said in a half-serious tone, "fill it up. I think I need it." I returned with full glasses for both of us, then laid back down. I returned to the vaginal caresses I'd abandoned two minutes before. "Honey, you know I've mentioned how the thought of you with other men is a turn-on for me." "Yeah, but I didn't realize it turned you on so much. Plus, I figured it was just some good old healthy fantasizing, something to put a little extra oomph in our lovemaking." "Fantasizing about situations like that when you know it could never . . . would never happen, is one thing. But my mental scenarios are more real, like it could happen. And that's what excites me so much―imagining, even hoping that it will happen." "Bill, I know you too well to believe that you'd ever let me go out and screw some guy behind your back. You'd never forgive me for it." "See, that's not what I'm saying. I want to watch you do it!" "Watch me . . . watch . . . some guy . . . fuck me?" Her protestations failed to hide the fact that she had gotten noticeably hotter and wetter under the caresses of my fingers. "Would that be so bad?" "I could never do that!" "Why?" "Well . . . for one thing, I love you, and you take good care of me in bed. I don't need anyone else." "Don't get me wrong, but don't the fantasies about other guys give you a little boost when we have sex?" "Well, yeah, but . . . but they're just that―fantasies. Ooh, now I'm sorry I ever said anything to you about it." "Look, if you knew without a doubt that I would enjoy the hell out it, and wouldn't be jealous in the slightest, wouldn't you at least admit that it would be a turn-on for you? Having some guy coming unglued as he's pounding the shit out of you?" "Maybe, but I just can't believe you'd sit there and watch him do it . . . watch me do it, and not be pissed." "Lisa, I haven't even scratched the surface on how much of a turn-on it is for me to imagine you horny and wet and squealing with excitement as some guy is between your legs giving you exactly what makes you come big." She lay there, not talking, the topic spinning around in her head. I withdrew my finger and replaced it with my own fully erect example of how turned-on I was. She responded slowly at first, then with greater zeal. "Honey, I mean it. I want it so much I can hardly think about anything else. I've felt that way for quite a while now." She was not as quick with her responses now, letting my comments sink in before opening her mouth. Finally, "And just who would this other guy be, might I ask?" I poked her a few good ones, getting a physical reaction. "Remember the spa at the hotel in Monterey? And the one in Scottsdale? You didn't take off your suit just because the water was too warm. You didn't sit there with your breasts and pussy bared for anyone to see who happened to walk by. How about how hot the sex was for us in the spa, and when we got back to our room?" "Yeah, okay. I had too much wine, and I was feeling a little frisky. So where does this other guy come in?" "Okay, just close your eyes and imagine this." I continued to bang her as I spoke. "You and I are in the spa, naked, with our glasses of wine within reach, and you're feeling frisky, which we both know means horny. Some good-looking man walks up and asks if he could join us. He slips off his suit and he's already beginning to swell. You can't help but to look. And he's checking you out, too. With the spa light, and no jets or bubbles, the water is as clear as glass. Even as we're making small talk with the guy, you can see him getting bigger. He's still not looking at your eyes. And you're getting wetter, and I don't mean your skin. You reach over and have another healthy sip of wine. Your face is getting warmer, and you suddenly become aware that your nipples are erect. Follow so far?" She answered by firing off a very large orgasm and a stifled shriek. I think she consciously tried to stifle it because she didn't want her response to give away the fact that what I was saying was exciting her. I didn't wait the customary minute or so before continuing. "At the same time, I slide a little closer to you and begin to play with your breasts, as though the guy wasn't even there. But we both know he is, and he's getting harder by the minute. You can barely keep your eyes off it. I kiss you very deep as my hand goes to your legs, which part slightly to allow me access. All the time he's watching . . . and wanting." "Wanting?" she said with an underlying hunger in her voice, barely louder than a hoarse whisper. "You. He wants to eat you, and fuck you." "Oh, God, Bill, you're making me so horny!" "Imagine how horny you'd be at that moment, in the spa, with a man already stiff as a board, he wants to fuck you so bad." "And . . .?" "I whisper in your ear, and you whisper in my ear. I tell the guy that we both have to use the bathroom in the worst way, but we'll be right back. I ask him if we can bring him back a glass of wine, to which he probably says yes. You climb out of the spa, still nude, and wrap a towel around you, and I do the same. We leave our suits laying there and walk back to our room." I saw her expression turn quizzical. "Huh? I don't get it." "Once we get to the room, we can see if we're in agreement that he's the one. If so, I walk back down to the spa and tell him that we'd like him to join us in our room for some wine." "But won't he know that we're . . . you know, what we're up to?" "Of course. If he didn't, he'd have to have shit for brains. That's the whole idea. As he walks with me back to our room, he'll know that he's gonna get lucky. And if he plays dumb, I'll simply tell him flat out that you want to fuck his brains out." That was all it took for both of us. We crested at the same time, shuddering, shaking and groaning with unprecedented explosions of naked lust. I knew that I'd have to bring up the subject again in the days to come, but waited until Lisa had her glasses of wine and we were in a mood for lovemaking. It might have been several days after the momentous occasion when we had discussed it, but when I broached the subject, it was as though it had only been minutes. "So, have I convinced you that I wouldn't be pissed, or in any way show any jealousy?" I said suddenly, right in the middle of tonguing her clit. She paused before replying, her hips squirming slightly in reaction to my tongue and my question. "I don't know. I have a feeling that you'd be bringing it up later, you know, throwing it in my face . . . what I did. And that bothers me . . . a lot." "All I can say is, you have my word that I wouldn't, no matter what. Look, let me ask you—do you like to get eaten out?" "You know I do." "And do you enjoy a stiff prick inside you?" "Bill, I don't understand what . . . " "Answer the question," I said rather sharply. "Okay, yes, I enjoy a stiff prick." "Do you remember how it felt when you had sex with some guy for the first time? Like when you were in high school, or college, when you were dating before you and I got together?" "Uh, yeah, of course." "How it was ten times more exciting that first time, knowing that some guy was going to fuck you that you'd never been with before?" "Okay, I'm beginning to see where you're going with this." "What I'm saying is you are going to get eaten and fucked by some guy that you've never been with before, and it's going to make you hornier and wetter than you've been in a long time." "You seem pretty sure of that. How can you know for sure?" "For one thing, it will be someone you agree beforehand is someone you would like to have sex with. Unless you agree, it'll never happen. And . . . and the sex will be preceded by you being naked in front of him in the spa. Now you can't deny that that would be a turn-on for you, in and of itself." "Well, I suppose, but . . . " "But nothing. Whether you want to admit it or not, when you've had more than a few glasses of wine, and we're away from home with a nice sparkling spa beckoning to you, you suddenly grow horns!" "You complaining? I mean I seem to recall you got pretty excited by the whole thing." "Exactly. That's what I'm trying to get across to you. It excites me to see you get naked like that, where others can see, and how horny it makes you while you're doing it. And it's not just because I like to see you naked, which I obviously do, but rather it turns me on to have you do it so other men can see you. Don't forget that each and every time you've gone naked like that, it's been your idea, not something I had to talk you into. To take it a step further, it turns me on to imagine what affect it has on the guys looking at you. If it was me doing the looking, at some other guy's wife who was naked like that for me to see, I can guarantee I'd be getting hard." "You would, huh?" "You better believe it. Look, remember that couple that joined us in the spa that night in Scottsdale?" "Of course." "Tell me you didn't notice that the guy was getting a boner sitting there." She giggled at that. "Yeah, it was kinda hard to miss, don'tcha think? And I seem to remember you sitting there with your own woody for all to see." "As if you didn't tease the hell out of me later because of it. Anyway, he wasn't getting hard because of his wife. It was because of you. Despite his wife sitting there right next to him, he was still getting erect. Now can you imagine what a single guy sitting there would have done? With no wife to answer to? Huh?" Lisa sighed and squirmed a little more under my tongue and fingers, which had continued to caress her throughout our little exchange. "Come on, Lisa, what do you think his response would have been to you, just sitting there a few feet away, looking at your body, your breasts . . . your pussy? Not to mention the effect of your looking at him, as well." "Well, I guess he might get a little excited." "And why would he get excited?" "Well, duh." "No, I mean, other than looking at a naked, beautiful woman sitting a few feet away, why would his body react like that?" "Because I am sitting a few feet away . . . and I'm naked! What are you trying to get at?" Monterey Nights Jon and I arrived two hours later than we had planned on Friday night. The traffic as we drove through LA had been really slow and our anticipated 6 hour drive had turned out to be more like 8 hours. We followed Del Monte and then turned right on to Pacific where we quickly found the hotel and turned in to the underground garage. Because all of the spaces were taken, the desk clerk told Jon to park the car right next to the lobby. I was glad we had driven my car for the weekend. We found our second floor room to be totally comfortable. The bed was turned down and a small fire flickered in the fireplace. Although it was July, the evening was a little chilly thanks to the breeze coming across the nearby bay. The rough hewn bedstead, lamp table and the tile floors were warm and cozy, just as I remembered them from my previous visits with Mark, my husband. The room had a small balcony which faced toward the lobby area. The street was to the right. Jon and I were here as a couple because of a drawing he had won at our swingers club. Pairs had pulled tickets out of a bowl and he and I had won an all expenses paid weekend at this luxury hotel in Monterey. Mark and his friend had won an all expenses paid weekend on a yacht with a small crew. They were going to take it out to one of the islands and stay in a secluded cove. I liked my prize better. I stood looking out the louvered window at the small courtyard our room was facing. The floodlights were dimmed and the fountain had been turned off for the night but the scene was very nice. Jon came up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. He nuzzled into my neck and kissed the back of my bare shoulder. I could smell his manly scent as he gently nibbled my skin. I felt my nipples harden as his hands moved up my body until each grasped a breast and gently kneaded it. I closed my eyes and leaned back against his muscular body. In a few minutes his slightly rough hands were inside my blouse and my bra was on the floor. Then he lifted the hem of my skirt and I felt his hard cock pressing into my firm buns. One of his fingers probed my slit and his thumb worked on my clit nub. I couldn't believe how wet I was already. He gently moved me so I was bent over the couch and he slid his nice stiff cock into my pussy from behind. There had been not a word from him or me. No sounds had been exchanged except low moans. He steadily fucked into me in long strong strokes, the only sound was the squishy sound of our fluids and our skins as we mated. Gradually he increased the pace and changed the rhythm until he was pounding his fuck stick into my cunt like a savage beast. We rutted like animals, I felt sweat beading on my forehead and between my breasts as the orgasm approached, it didn't feel like a kitten, it felt like a lioness. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you until you can't stand up." My stud grunted into my ear. My body shook with anticipation. "Here's my first load Lynn, my first, but not my last. I'm gonna fuck the shit out of your hot pussy!" "Yes! OHHHHH, Fuck me baby, make me cum..." I felt his cum. It was powerful and hot as it gushed into my body. "This is going to be one hot weekend." I thought. After a few minutes of recovery, we cleaned up and fell into the bed. We fucked twice more before falling to sleep still in full penetration and wrapped in each other's arms. It was nine o'clock when I awoke. Jon had begun kissing my shoulder again and his once again hard cock was nudging against my hip. I rolled over to face him directly and put my knee on his hip. His cock entered my beckoning pussy without hesitation. We fucked like that for several minutes. His hard strong thrusts quickly brought me to another climax. I felt his cock pulsing and pumping as he deposited his first load of the day deep inside me. Then he rolled me over and helped me to my knees and mounted me from behind. He was ready again! I could hear a family preparing for their day right outside of our room. The kids sounded like teenagers and they wanted to go on a bike ride and the dad and mom wanted to the aquarium. Jon sawed his throbbing cock in and out of me with ferocious power. My knees were getting shaky. "Wow, Lynn, what if they could see us? What if that was a glass door and that family was watching me fuck you? Wouldn't that be hot, having the kids watch my big cock going in and out of your wet pussy, watching your tits sway? Take it baby, take more and more...Take my cum. I'm gonna fuck you at least five times today." I felt him cumming again. After a short while, we cleaned up and got dressed. I wore a plunging neckline halter top with no bra and a very short pair of shorts that looked painted on. If I was going to be here with this young stud (is this what they mean by boy-toy?) I needed to keep him interested. Jon was one of the youngest guys in the club and a good 10 years younger than my husband. He was what one would call "ruggedly handsome". Not a pretty pampered looking guy, but tan, muscular and sort of craggy features. He actually worked for a swimming pool contractor as a refurb expert. He was used to working with stone and concrete and tile. He was tan, a little shorter than Mark and had medium length sun bleached but basically dark hair. His green eyes were pale and he had a good looking smile but not perfect teeth. Then we headed for the continental breakfast service in the lounge above the hotel lobby. It was nicely presented with fruit, juices, breads and cereals and coffee and tea. I dished up some melon slices and poured a glass of juice then found an empty table. Jon was pouring a cup of coffee when I heard someone call my name. "Lynn? Is that you?" I looked up in time to see Anne, an old friend and former colleague standing by my table. "Oh, hi Anne, how are you?" I didn't know how to be polite and yet not engage a conversation with this long time friend. "I thought I recognized you. Where's Mark?" Just then, Jon walked up. He was wearing a tight golf style shirt and tight shorts. The bulge of his manhood was not well concealed. "Ah, Anne, this is... ah, my friend, Jon. Jon, Anne." Anne's face was painted with curiosity. "Hello Jon, nice to meet you." She said, still giving me a quizzical look. There was a moment of awkwardness as Anne stood there looking at me and Jon. Neither of us knew what to say. I saw her eyes drift to my cleavage and to his crotch. "Well, okay then...nice to meet you Jon. Maybe we'll see you a little later." She smiled and left the room. In the foyer I could see Rick, her husband. We had only met a few times so he just kind of waved as she gestured toward us. Rick looked like he had gained 30 pounds and lost half of his hair since the last time I had seen him. I noticed that Anne kept looking at us until they were out of sight. "Are you okay?" Jon asked as he sat down. "Yeah, but that was a little awkward. I wonder if they're staying here too." Jon grinned crookedly. "You know what I always say...'Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke'" I looked him in the eyes. "No, stud, the only one you're fucking this weekend is me." I said softly. He boldly reached across the table and rubbed the back of his fingers on one of my prominent nipples through my top. "Okay with me, lady, any time you want." I felt my pussy twitch as I blushed and moved his hand away. We spent the day walking around looking at art galleries in town and eventually made it to Fisherman's wharf and ended up with an early dinner at the nicest restaurant there. I had scallops and he had shrimp. With dinner we drank a bottle of great local wine so we were glad we had walked because we were not in great shape for driving back to the hotel. We stood at the end of the wharf and watched a pair of otters maneuvering around the marina. I was surprised when I realized that Jon was caressing my tits inside my halter as he gently humped his bulge into my ass. We were right there on the wharf and there were other people around. He kissed my neck and ears. "Are you ready to head back to the hotel?" He whispered to me. I wantonly reached back between us and caressed the bulge in his shorts. I was shocked to realize that his cock was half erect and hot. "Yeah, you owe me a few still." "Hey you two!" I turned and saw Anne and Rick approaching. Jon still had his hands inside my halter and I had just dropped my hand from his bulge. "Hi." I said, trying to act casual as Jon slid his hand out of my top. "Have you guys had dinner?" Anne asked. "Yes, we just finished a huge meal a few minutes ago." "Okay, I wondered if you would like to join us. We have reservations for four but the other couple overdid the sun today so they bailed on us." "Oh, I couldn't swallow another ounce." I said. Then I noticed Anne ogling Jon's bulge again. She smiled. "Yeah, that's what you always say, eh Jon?" She winked at me and laughed. "Well, maybe we'll see you at breakfast then." Rick said, tugging Anne toward the restraint we had just left. It took us a little while to find our way back to the hotel. On the way, we stopped at a little market and bought a small bottle of Midori, some triple sec, tequila and margarita mix. Jon got ice at the machine in the hotel. As soon as we got to the room Jon untied the halter top and slipped it off my body. He bent his head down and sucked my nipples hard. I came immediately. He continued to kiss and suck my nipples for several minutes until I could hardly stand it. I was panting and my hands were clawing at him. "Oh, Jon, fuck me...I need it...make me cum some more." I pleaded. He then pushed me to my knees and humped his hips toward me. Without needing further instructions, I unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts and tugged them down his legs. His cock sprang out and it me in the face. I devoured it like a candy covered stick. It was a little tangy from a day of walking around cooped up in his shorts, but in seconds it was covered with my saliva as I slurped the head and shaft like there would be no tomorrow. I soon tasted a drop of pre-cum as it was coaxed out of the shaft. Suddenly he grabbed my head and began brutally fucking my mouth. I held his butt with one hand, probing his anus with my enameled nail. With my other hand I gently raked my nails along the seam of his sack. His thrusts were fast, deep and strong. His cum gushed out and I swallowed as fast as I could. Then he just held my head in place and I could feel his cock pumping and throbbing in my mouth for a few minutes until it relaxed and he released my head. He stood me up and kissed me deeply as he worked to take off my shorts. Soon we were both totally nude. I kissed his chest and held him for a few minutes. A little later Jon lit the gas fireplace again and I made a round of margaritas on the rocks. We cuddled on the sofa, nude, feeling the warmth of the fire and listening to soft music from the cd player. Jon played with my hair and gently kissed my neck and shoulders. Soon he was caressing my skin again and then massaging my breasts. I felt that warm feeling between my legs once more. He got up and made another round of drinks and I got a good sense of his readiness for more action by the flag pole protruding from his crotch. He handed me a drink and knelt on the floor next to me. His lips were cold from the drink as he began kissing my warm skin. My nipples immediately responded to his kisses and to the touch of his cold tongue. He touched his fingers to my lips and they tasted of Midori. I noticed that he had a small glass of the emerald liquor and he dipped his fingers in it again and touched my nipples, lightly coating them. Then he leaned in and licked and sucked the sweetness off of my flesh. Next he put a few drops just above my belly button and licked and kiss that off. Moving lower, he dropped a little more on the skin just above my slit and then a little lower. He spent a long time kissing, licking and sucking the flavors from my body. My nipples were hard strawberries on my tits. My clit was straining in her hood, trying to attract his attention. My juices were flowing copiously with my arousal. I moved my legs apart to give Jon better access. I didn't want to beg, but I was nearly to that point. Jon scooted me down a little and then climbed on to the couch with me. His knees were on either side of my head and his bloated member hung just above my face as he dove his head into my hot pussy. A pearl of his sauce was dangling and then dropped toward me. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue just in time to accept it. "Lynn, you are the best tasting woman I have ever known." He said. His tongue touched my clit and my body felt a jolt of ecstasy as it did. I moved my head up so I could suck and lick at the plum hanging just a few inches out of reach. He stayed in the same position, the plumb just in reach of my tongue and lips, but not close enough to take into my mouth. It was driving me to distraction, and his tongue on my clit and in my pussy only served to intensify the sensations of lust. After what must have been a half hour he changed positions again. I opened my legs to invite him in and he pushed his cock deep into my welcoming pussy. Our fuck was slow and deep. I was amazed at his staying power. He was an expert with his tool and drove me to the brink several times and then backed off. Finally he began speeding up the tempo until I was grunting with each stroke of his piston. I knew I was making a lot of noise but I didn't care. "Fuck me Jon...Fuck me! Oh Fuck! Fuck me harder...Fuck me!" I was almost shouting. "I'm giving it to you Lynn. Fuck! Here it is...Fuck! You are one hot fuck!" Suddenly his body tensed and he rammed his cock in as deep as he could. Jet after jet of cum rushed from his pole into me. I could hardly catch my breath. He collapsed on me and we drifted off to sleep for a little while. Later we moved to the bed where he fucked me again like a wild bull planting his seed in a willing mate. I felt like I had never been fucked like this before. This time he didn't long and when he came it was thick and hot. He dabbed at my leaking pussy with his fingers while his cock was still in me. He brought his slime covered fingers to my lips and I avidly licked them clean. In the morning we enjoyed a shower together. I explored every inch of his hard body with my lips and tongue and he gently caressed me under the soft warmth of the cascading water. Then he turned me to the wall and pumped his cock into me, bumping my body against the tile until his cum volleyed into me and my knees were weak again. I stood there for a few minutes feeling the flood dripping out of my pussy and running down my legs. I put my hair in a pony tail and donned a short tennis skirt and a light sleeveless blouse. I was going to wear a bra so my breasts wouldn't sway as I walked, but Jon said he liked them loose and more accessible. He also asked me not to wear panties. He wore another pair of tight shorts and golf shirt. As we emerged from our room we heard the door next to us open. Out stepped Anne and Rick. "Good morning!" Anne said, eyeing me knowingly. Rick just smiled and nodded hello. "Hi." I answered, once again trying to be polite but not too engaging. "So, where's Mark?" Anne asked, her eyes shifted between me and Jon. I smiled. "Oh, he's off on a boat somewhere I think." I attempted steering Jon in another direction so we wouldn't be at breakfast with Anne and Rick, but I noticed he was grinning at my apparent uneasiness as he resisted my tug and kept heading for the continental breakfast. The four of us walked in silence to breakfast. As luck would have it, when we got to the lounge, the only table that was open was a table for four. "Oh look, this will be perfect!" Anne said cheerily, taking my sunglasses from my hand and putting them along with hers on the table to reserve it for us. I felt a little dollop of something emerging from my bare pussy. "Actually, I need to use the restroom." I said. I found the restroom and used the stall to clean up again. As I came out, Anne was there. "I must say Lynn, you certainly look well...rested." She smirked. "So who is that hunk?" "Ah, who?" I tried to stall. "The hunk you're sleeping with." She asked. "Sleeping with?" "Okay, the hunk who is fucking you morning, noon and night." She smiled triumphantly. I stood silently, trying to form an answer. This was really awkward. What could I say? "Ah, Jon? Jon is his name." I finished washing my hands and reached for the door. "You lucky lady." She giggled. "He is cute in a rugged animalistic sort of way. And what a body! I certainly envy you." "Thanks." I smiled, grasping the door handle. "Does Mark know?" "Yes!" I felt myself blushing as I left her standing with her mouth open. Breakfast was very quick. Anne jabbered about what they had done the day before and what they were planning for the reminder of the weekend. I made mental notes to avoid those activities. We spent the day in the Cannery Row area, wandering the galleries and shops and tasting the local winery's products. There was a very talented entertainer playing a guitar shaped keyboard, accompanied by a programmed synthesizer, who was fantastic. The crowd loved him and we sat on a park bench basking in the warm sun and listening to his music for almost an hour. Then an annoying guy trying to get people to try his restaurant approached. Like a couple of kids we bolted from the bench and made our escape to the Ghirardelli shop. By seven o'clock our feet were killing us and we had run out of change for the parking meters. We drove to a Mexican restaurant right on the bay and got a table overlooking the water. The dinner and the margaritas were a great way to end the day. We watched the gulls flocking above the fishing boats returning to the harbor until the sun set. "Wanna go back to the room and fuck?" Jon asked, arching his eyebrow. "Sounds like fun." I smiled. I felt my body respond to his lewd suggestion. As soon as we reached the room I was on him. I knew this was the last night of our illicit weekend and I wanted to enjoy it until morning. My fingers worked feverishly to again reveal his body to my lusting eyes. I kissed my way down his torso as I fumbled with his belt and shorts. In my eagerness, I almost gagged as I devoured his sausage. I rolled the head in my mouth like a lollypop. God, it tasted good! I pulled at his butt cheeks, trying to draw every millimeter of his stick in to my mouth. I couldn't believe how horny I felt. "You cock sucking little bitch!" He hissed as his hips began to pump. I literally tore my top as I feverishly took it off. I heard the door close fully as he leaned forward to brace himself against it. Damn, the door hadn't been closed when I started! I felt like a whore in heat. He pulled me to my feet and bent me over the bed, lifting the hem of my skirt to reveal my dripping and twitching pussy. He wasted no time with foreplay and just rammed his wet and stiff cock into me from behind. He grunted as the base bumped against my labia. In just a few seconds he was pounding in to me with a lusty fury. My tits were scraping against the down comforter and my hair was flying around. I didn't know when he had released it. "Fuck, Lynn...Fuck...you are soooooo fucking wet! I could fuck you every night!" "Oh yes, Jon, fuck me...fuck me faster and harder!" I was almost shouting and I could hardly stand the pleasure I was feeling. I felt both stuffed and needy at the same time. His first load felt scalding as it gushed into me. Gallon after gallon of molten fluid poured into me until I was overflowing with his cream. It took several minutes to catch our breath. He then lifted me all the way on to the bed and fed me his meat so I could clean it as he cleaned me. It was so erotic feeling his tongue licking my freshly fucked pussy and feeling the last drops of cum as they seeped from his quickly resurgent erection. God, he wanted me again! Monterey Nights We rolled on to our sides and continued the oral play until once again we came. This time it was a little weaker and, truthfully, I was getting a bit oversensitive to the touch. Once we were done, we just lay there, caressing each other until we dozed off. When we awoke, we heard noises next door. Were Anne and Rick going at it? Jon ot up and fetched robes for the two of us and we silently crept out to the balcony, hoping we could get a view into their room. The view was not great, but there was a view. The lights were dim next door but we could clearly see Anne laying on her back on the sofa and Rick on top of her in the classic missionary position. His large pasty white body moved slowly as he plowed a surprisingly long but thin tool into her. Her back arched to meet him and a series of "Ohs!" were clearly audible as they fucked. I leaned on the rail of our balcony as I watched them, trying to act like I was looking at the courtyard and the street below. Then I felt Job lifting the hem of my robe. He was going to fuck me right out here, in plain view of the street and the traffic driving by! This was amazing! I felt his once-again fully stiff member as it nudged between my pussy lips. Suddenly he was fucking me with a steady pace! I could feel every vein and ripple of his meat as it slid in and out of me. I had to clinch my jaw shut to keep from bursting with a lewd epithet. "This is so fucking hot Lynn! Fucking in public! Damn you are one hot cunt!" Suddenly I felt him shooting again. I was surprised at the quantity of seed he produced. I heard the wet drops as the overflow landed on the balcony floor. I saw stars as my orgasm broke over me like huge ocean waves on the shore. When he pulled out of me, my pussy quivered and a quart of his load poured out. We stumbled back in to the room and crashed on to the sofa. My thighs and the robe I was wearing were wet and sticky. Again we rested and Jon used up the remaining supplied to make a final pitcher of margaritas. I caught a glimpse of myself seated on the couch, drink in hand, with my robe open and revealing my naked body. I really felt like the slut I looked like. I loved the feeling. We cuddled and drank a round then we heard a knock on our door. I didn't know who it might be but I didn't care. I went to the door with my robe still open and answered it. Anne and Rick were standing there, dressed in hotel robes. Rick was holding a bottle of Champagne. Monterey "When a male animal gets erect, what is the purpose?" "Well, obviously it's to prepare him for . . . " "For fucking! Right! And when a man is sitting in the spa with you in your birthday suit, and he gets erect, it means he wants to fuck you! And if this guy with the hard-on meets the criteria, with both of us, then that's what I'm suggesting we let him do! Completely with my blessing." "You make it sound so simple." "And it can be just that simple. I promise you this, if you will agree to us going to Monterey in the next couple of weeks, and spend a couple of nights there, and after trolling naked in the spa late at night we can't find a suitable candidate, then we come home, and no harm has been done. I promise not to pressure you to do anything. Just give it a try and see how it goes. If we get lucky, and we find the right guy, I can assure you both of us will be glad we did. And that goes double for the lucky son of a bitch that gets to fuck you." "And that's okay with you, right? I mean, I would love to go up there for a few days." "How many times, how many ways do I have to say it? Yes, it's what I want." "Get up here and fuck me, please?" I did as directed. I couldn't help, while I was fucking her, making suggestive remarks. "Close your eyes." They were already closed. "Imagine that I'm some guy we just met in the spa an hour before, and now he's got his erection inside your very wet pussy, fucking you." She must have followed my suggestion, because her response to my thrusts became noticeably more energetic and she began to make little pathetic moaning sounds. "He already made you come twice with his mouth, and now his very hard penis is driving into you. Bang . . . bang . . . bang. You can't help it, but he's going to make you come again. Big." As though on cue, Lisa began bucking against me, bringing herself to an explosive orgasm. "And the guy is incredibly excited, too. He has his hard-on deep inside you, fucking you for the first time, feeling you moving under him, actually letting him fuck you till he comes. It's his fantasy come true. He's so excited fucking you that he can't hold it any longer. He's trying, but he can't stop." Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face contorted in sweet agony, her hips returning my thrusts with unparalleled passion. As though on cue, I erupted deep inside her, my body shaking uncontrollably. "And now he's letting himself come deep inside you!" Lisa responded with her own final orgasm of the evening. All she could say afterwards, when I asked if she'd enjoyed it, was, "That was incredible!" But that wasn't the end of the discussion. Several nights later, after we had made the reservations at the hotel in Monterey for the following weekend, Lisa had more to say on the matter. This time we weren't in bed, but driving home from a movie. "Bill, please don't misunderstand, but I can't get this Monterey thing out of my mind. I go to sleep thinking about it, and wake up thinking about it. I even find myself . . . well, getting wet in the middle of the day, thinking about it." Her eyes were downcast, obviously experiencing some embarrassment at her admission. "And tonight, while we're sitting there watching the movie, it seemed that everything in that damned movie kept reminding me of Monterey." "I know honey, but . . . " "Please, let me talk. I need to explain just how I feel about this." "Sorry." "Watching Brad Pitt tonight, I kept imagining his face on the guy in the spa. I've never been particularly turned on by Brad Pitt, but when I inadvertently put his face on this faceless guy I'm supposed to . . . to, well you know . . . I suddenly realized that the guy will have a face. And he probably won't be any Brad Pitt." Then she said in a voice that was scarcely a whisper, "But then, neither are you." She reached over and wiggled my nose. "And I do love you so much." "Lisa . . ." "I'm not through," she said abruptly. "I just know me, that I will be half drunk, and I will probably be horny before we ever get in the spa, and I'm just afraid that I might go ahead and do something we'll both regret later. The guy might be good looking, he might be very friendly, and he just might even make me feel good. But to have him fuck me, right then and there, I just don't know." She took a deep breath letting it out slowly. "Okay, your turn." "Lisa, let me explain something that I hope you'll not only listen to but also take to heart. We're not looking for someone to replace me, nor are we looking for someone for you to fall in love with. We're talking about sex, plain and simple. Some people call it 'sport fucking.' I expect it to be a tremendous turn-on for all three of us, an intensely hot scene that will leave us all satisfied . . . with smiles on our faces. We'll never see the guy again. That's the whole idea. You get horny and get laid, and I get horny and . . . " "And? That's another thing that's been gnawing at me. What do you plan on doing while this guy is getting his jollies?" "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I'll probably be just sitting back watching. If I got involved, I wouldn't be able to see it all, and that's what I want to do. Maybe afterwards . . . well, I can say with some certainty that if the scene doesn't cause me to lose it on the spot, I'll be looking for some attention from you once he's gone." "Lose it? Like maybe you'll be playing with yourself while you watch?" She snickered a little. "That's entirely possible, but I'd hate to come before you guys are finished. I mean, after all, it would take the edge off the excitement for me." She seemed to be deep in thought. "Honey?" I prompted. "As I said, I've been giving this a lot of thought. I was wondering . . . assuming that this guy gets excited enough to come . . . what do you think . . . uh, should he come in me . . . or what?" "Well, that's pretty much up to you. Personally, I'd prefer that he comes as deep inside you as possible. But if you'd prefer to have him pull out and come on your tummy, or wherever, that would be your choice." "Why, out of curiosity, would you like to have him come inside me?" "I don't know. It seems that most of the porno movies always have the guy shooting off on the girl's tummy, or on her breasts, or ass, or even in her face or mouth. That's fine for movies, you know, the so-called "money shot," but most ordinary people, whether it's husbands and wives or boyfriends and girlfriends, they usually let it happen internally, so to speak. I think it's more natural and, frankly, more exciting for me, knowing that he's pumping his load in your pussy." "Well, for your information, to be on the safe side I checked the calendar and this weekend won't be a problem if it does happen, if he does come in me." She giggled a little nervously. "See, I am thinking ahead. Just so you know . . . I'd prefer it that way too." "Let's just see how things go. No use scripting the scene too carefully. You never know how things will be when the time comes. Please keep in mind that I want you to do what feels good to you at the time. I do want you to get the maximum benefit out of this, more so than me or him. Do you understand that?" "More and more every day. I'm actually starting to think that you really do want this to happen." I just shook my head and turned the car into our driveway. Surprisingly, on the drive to Monterey, we said little if anything about our grand scheme. It was undoubtedly on both our minds, but I suppose we did need to do some quiet, introspective soul-searching to ease our anxiety over what might happen. It represented a big step for both of us, for disparate reasons. Lisa had, I noticed, carefully trimmed her pubic hair the morning we had left. It was something she had done many times in the past, when anticipating the wearing of poolside apparel, but this occasion seemed more deliberate. I felt even more confident that she was getting into the spirit of the adventure. We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon. As we walked into the room, I was certain that she reflexively did exactly what I did: immediately look at the king-sized bed. Vague premonitions of what the scene might be on that bed, quite possibly within a very few hours, gave me a scrotal tingle. I hoped she derived a vaginal equivalent from her own view of the bed. We had brought with us a large bottle of our own jug wine, and after I made a trip down the hall to the ice machine and returned with the filled bucket, we had a silent toast to what lay ahead. I kissed her without saying anything. I know she understood the meaning behind it. After a couple more glasses while we unpacked and got ready for the evening ahead, the jug went into the small refrigerator . . . for later. To kick off the evening, I took Lisa to our favorite restaurant on Cannery Row, which was within walking distance of the hotel. Lisa chose to wear a flowery light-weight sleeveless sun dress that came to her mid-thigh and had a low neckline. She wore no bra and no panties—her decision—because it made her feel extra sexy, she said. The high-heeled white sandals trimmed the lines of her calves. I wore a conservative long-sleeve light blue oxford-cloth dress shirt, with the cuffs rolled up, khaki Dockers (with briefs) and deck shoes. We took our time eating our own favorite dinners and drinking several glasses apiece of our choice of wine, both of us feeling a warm, romantic glow. I knew from past experience that this romantic glow would soon evolve into more primal stirrings. I didn't even have to ask what we would do next. We walked several blocks to the nightclub we had frequented on past trips. The clientele was not particularly young or old; all were there to dance to the mixture of older standards and more modern music played by a three-man band. It was now around nine-thirty, so the patrons were getting into the swing of things, gradually more and more couples migrating to the dance floor. Lisa and I alternately danced to the slow and fast numbers, enjoying each for its own contribution to our moods. The cheek-to-cheek dancing, our bodies pressed tightly together, my lips on her ear and neck, my whispered words of praise for how beautiful and sexy she was, enhanced the loving closeness we shared. The fast music, where we could work up an animalistic sweat, added to the raw sexual fervor that perhaps suggested an aboriginal mating ritual. Basically, when combined with the many glasses of wine Lisa had consumed, she was in heat. Images of past stories I had read of horny couples going into bars, seeking the companionship of a single male, allowing the woman to dance with other men in hopes of finding a compatible candidate, passed through my mind, but we had already created the scenario of the hotel spa, so I didn't encourage Lisa, or the abundance of interested men who were there, to get acquainted. We floated out of the club shortly before midnight, walking hand-in-hand towards the hotel, feeling no pain. She was giddy, and behaving like a schoolgirl with very naughty impulses. The pump was certainly primed. When we got back to our room, Lisa made a beeline for the bathroom, her bladder predictably hyperactive from the effects of the wine. I had to go as well, so I did a little dance until she emerged. I did my thing and came out to see Lisa fastening the clasp on her pale yellow bikini top. Things were definitely on schedule, without my having to prompt her in any way. We didn't talk, as I stripped and put on my own suit. It was a warm evening, for Monterey, although there was a slight chill in the air. Perhaps it wasn't only the temperature, maybe it was nervous anticipation. We each draped our towels over our shoulders, both carrying a tall plastic tumbler filled with iced wine—an old habit—and headed downstairs to the pool and spa. It was customary with most hotels to post a sign advising that the pool and spa were closed to use after 10:00 PM, but we knew that, as long as we didn't become noisy or otherwise rowdy, no one would complain and the management wouldn't care. I was surprised, and maybe even disappointed at first, to see the spa occupied by two men. Lisa hesitated slightly, but continued to walk toward it. I, of course, did likewise. "Evening," I said. The men both turned their heads, each echoing the same greeting. Lisa slipped off her beach sandals, draped her towel on a nearby patio chair, set her tumbler near the edge and put one foot into the water. The men had been sitting on opposite sides of the spa, facing one another, but when Lisa approached, one man slid over nearer to the other, providing space for both of us. Lisa eased into the warm water, as I began my own descent. Both men were close in age, somewhere around forty or so, maybe seven or eight years older than Lisa—around my own age. One had full dark hair, cut fairly short, but fashionably so. He was clean-shaven, with a slight five-o'clock shadow. It was difficult to tell, but he appeared to be fairly short, maybe five-seven or -eight, with a trim but muscular build. His chest was quite hairy. I guessed that he might be Italian or of other Mediterranean descent. The other man was quite a bit taller, maybe an inch or two over six feet, slender but well-built, with short-cropped sandy hair above a receding hairline. He had a neatly trimmed mustache. Both men wore wedding bands. The shorter man introduced himself to us as Eddie, the taller one as Mark. They both shook our respective hands as I returned the introductions with our own. Eddie seemed to be the more talkative of the two. "So, you guys here on vacation, or . . .?" "Yeah," I replied, "just a few days' getaway from the L.A. madhouse. And you?" "Business, unfortunately, but at least it's in great surroundings. Mark and I had some depositions to take—we're both lawyers. We work in The City—San Francisco. Got it all knocked out this afternoon, so we decided to stay another day before heading back. You been here before? It's our first time to this hotel." "It's, uh . . . I guess our third stay here. Although it's been almost two years since we were here last. It's a bit of a drive, but we think it's worth it." "You have kids?" Eddie asked. "Yeah, two. They're staying with grandma. As usual." I smiled as I looked over at Lisa. I interrupted her with a mouthful of wine. "Right," she said. "But it's a lot cheaper and more reliable that way than if we hired a babysitter. I don't worry about them nearly as much when they're with their grandmother." Lisa was smiling, but nervously so, still not at ease, even though she still had her suit on and the atmosphere had not become sexually charged. I think it was due to her guilty conscience, and the real reason for us being there, in the spa, in the first place. "Well, small world. I've got two kids, both boys, God bless them, but I often wonder how it would've been for Donna and me if we had decided not to have any. Mark here, he's a daddy, but to his wife's children from a previous marriage. Sorry, old buddy, if I blabbed about your life history." Mark smiled. "Oh, I think I have ways to get even, if I was so inclined, old buddy. Eddie and I have known each other since grade school, so there's not too much about his life I don't know. Good and bad." He smiled even more broadly. Eddie continued his interrogation. "So, both of you work?" I answered for both of us. "Lisa is content to be a mother and housewife, but of course she could get a job if she wanted to. I leave that up to her. I work as a security consultant, you know, evaluating and recommending on security measures for businesses. Gives me plenty of flex in my hours. And the pay's good." Eddie sighed as he began to stand up. "Well folks, I think I need to turn in. Unlike Mark, I've got to be up bright and early to meet with another attorney that I went to school with. He lives in Salinas, and I said I'd stop over and have breakfast with him before we head home. You guys enjoy your stay. Mark, you coming?" "Uh, I think I'll soak for a while longer. That is, if you folks don't mind the company." "Not at all," I replied. The wheels were now turning more than before. As I reached back for my wine, Lisa was doing the same. Our minds were reacting in similar fashion. "Bill, Lisa, I guess I should apologize for Eddie. He's just got one of those outgoing personalities—his mouth is always running." "Not at all," I said in response. "Under the circumstances, I'd hardly expect us to sit here and stare off into space, as though we were on an elevator or something. I take it you're not known for being very talkative, by comparison." "Oh, I suppose not. Kinda depends on the situation. I've noticed that Lisa doesn't exactly talk ones ear off." Lisa smiled demurely, her eyes avoiding direct contact with Mark's. "Just like a woman. When I'm studying or reading the paper, I can't shut her up. Sorry, honey. Don't mean to talk about you like you weren't here." She scooted up close to me and nibbled my ear. "That's okay. There's a time to talk and a time to listen. And time is getting a little late, don't you think?" "Oh, there I've gone and chased you guys off." Mark seemed genuinely disappointed. I glanced at Lisa and she returned the look. "I think what Lisa meant by it's getting late, is that we came down here to indulge one of our little pastimes. It's become tradition on our stays here, that we sneak down to the spa and enjoy the warm water . . . without the interference of bathing suits. We just hadn't expected to find company." "Now I really feel like a spoilsport. Look, I'll just . . ." "No, Mark. It's okay. Stay put." I reached behind Lisa and adroitly used one hand to unfasten the clasp on her bikini top. She slid it off and tossed it on the deck, took a quick swig of wine, and then settled back down in the water. Her honey-blonde hair was short enough to barely touch the water. The jets were off, and the underwater light reflected off her buoyant breasts as they floated just below the waterline. Her eyes closed and she had a subtle smile of contentment on her face. I stole a glance at Mark, who predictably was gazing at her chest. I leaned over and gave Lisa a kiss. She returned it with a loud and clear message that she was getting turned on. I brazenly reached out and briefly massaged her right breast and hardening nipple. It stiffened even more under my touch. Lisa moaned almost inaudibly, the exhaled breath from her nostrils warm and accelerated as I kissed her, then proceeded to strip off her suit bottoms. She tossed them over her left shoulder without so much as a sideways glance. The dark, well-trimmed patch at the juncture of her thighs was clearly visible through the crystal-clear water. Mark's focus attested to that. As though she was acutely aware of his gaze—which I'm sure she was, even with her eyes closed—her legs parted ever so slightly, to afford him an even better view. He was sitting almost exactly across from Lisa, so he would have been looking at her crotch straight on. He had an odd expression, one of incredulity and fascination. It was my turn. I pulled my trunks down and off, laying them behind me on the deck. I took a moment for some liquid fortification, then leaned over and kissed Lisa deeply. She responded with her mouth and a subtle gyration of her body. She was definitely turned on. With her eyes remaining closed, she found me with her right hand, gentling caressing my growing hardness. I kissed her with even more passion, with her returning it in kind, her breathing quickening. Monterey "Well," Mark suddenly said, "I guess I'm a little overdressed here. If you guys don't mind . . ." He lifted up his hips in preparation for pulling off his suit. "Not at all," I said, without even looking directly at him. His trunks came off. Lisa just happened at that same time to reach back to take a drink. As she turned again in Mark's direction, I saw her scoping out his equipment, nonchalant, but rather obvious. She settled back to her former position, only now her legs were a little more splayed than before. I placed my hand on her exposed pussy, just long enough to stroke her clit—which was swollen—and dip a finger barely inside her—which revealed that she was oozing lubricating fluid. She murmured a little louder, wriggling her hips in appreciation. Her hand had gone back to my now-full erection. I leaned my head back just far enough to take in her body, which shimmered with stark beauty. I also noticed that her hazel eyes were now open with a dreamy but predatory gaze, staring at Mark. And not just at his own growing erection, but into his eyes as well. I leaned back to her and whispered. "Do you think it's time?" She didn't really answer me, only nodded her head slightly. "Hey, Mark. Lisa and I both need to use the bathroom in the worst way. While we're gone, we'll fill our glasses. Can we bring you back some wine?" "Uh, sure . . . I guess." I read some wariness in his tone. "Hey, I promise we'll be right back. We'll even leave our suits here. So don't go away. Okay?" "Sure, I'll be here." He was trying to maneuver his legs so his boner wasn't so apparent. Lisa and I stepped out and wrapped ourselves with our towels; mine was somewhat tented in front. We padded down the walk and up the stairs to the second floor. As we entered the room, she was obviously tipsy, but her eyes were glowing. We stood there for a moment, just inside the door. She was the first to speak. "You're sure you want to do this? I mean, really, really sure?" There was a slight slur to her speech, but she seemed far from drunk. "By that, I take it that he meets your approval." "Oh, Bill, I'm so horny!" "Got you turned on, huh?" "Well, duh!" "That's the idea, my love. Why don't you use the bathroom and climb into bed. I'll go give our new friend the good news. Be right back." "Bill? You sure." "Surer than I've ever been in my life." I gave her a big hug and a wet kiss. "You just make sure you have a great time of it. I know I will." I walked the fifty or so yards to the spa, glad to see our friend still there. "Say, Mark. Care to join us in our room for that glass of wine?" "Uh, yeah, sure." He looked startled by the invitation, but wasted no time climbing out and slipping on his trunks. I picked up my suit and Lisa's, and led the way to the room, Mark in close pursuit. I was breathless with anticipation as I opened the door and ushered our guest in. As I walked into the room, there was Lisa, naked and lying on her stomach, as though asleep. The floral-patterned comforter hadn't even been turned down. She looked so beautiful in the light of the lamp on the dresser across the room. I handed him a glass of wine and he gulped it. He was as nervous as we were. I motioned with my hand for Mark to approach the bed. He did, sitting down on the edge just two feet from Lisa's prone body. He set the glass on the nightstand and reached out to gently touch her back, his hand subtly caressing downward to her rounded bottom. Lisa stirred a little in response. I quietly announced that I still needed to use the bathroom, which I did, although I really didn't want to miss anything. I urinated as fast as my anatomy would allow, then casually walked back into the room. Lisa had turned onto her side, with Mark lying next to her, and they were kissing. His bathing trucks lay on the floor. Mark had his hand on her bare back, stroking it, and Lisa held Mark's upper arm. Their bodies were close enough to be touching, but I couldn't see for sure. I sat in one of two swivel chairs that went with a small table near the slider. It placed me within a few feet of the side of the bed. Her back was to me. Mark's hand moved down and cupped the cheek of her wonderful ass, massaging it and pulling her against him at the same time. Her right leg lifted and hooked over his. I saw his hand shift, so his fingers traced the cleft of her ass down to where her pussy began. She murmured softly as his fingers touched her wetness. Their head action as they kissed became more animated, as they swiveled their mouths against the other's and buried their tongues more deeply. Mark suddenly pulled away and turned Lisa onto her back. He kissed and nibbled her breasts and sucked on her nipples for at least a minute—they were more erect than I can ever remember seeing them—before kissing a trail southward. He paused to dip his tongue into her navel, then headed further down. He gently pressed her legs apart, which she readily parted with little coaxing. His mouth found her pussy, and his tongue took no time in finding the right area of her clit to stimulate. Her head lolled back on the pillow and her eyes closed with pleasure, her mouth slightly open, a blank expression on her face, her chest heaving noticeably. Mark massaged her breasts with one hand as he tongued her, while he used the middle finger of his other to slowly penetrate her. I didn't have to feel it myself to know that she was sopping wet. I actually think I could smell it. As Mark licked her clit, his finger had found the magic spot inside her and was massaging it, as Lisa squirmed her hips and murmured. Less than a minute of this and she was coming against his face. Her legs strained as her hips rose from the bed in a convulsive spasm, as she grunted and moaned. I knew her well enough to recognize a sizeable orgasm when I saw it. Once the dust had settled on her release, Lisa moved around so she could access his throbbing bone—she was following our routine out of force of habit. She put her fingers around it as she brought her mouth closer. Her tongue came out and licked the head tentatively, and then began kissing and licking it with greater interest. She finally placed her mouth over the head and slowly took the length into its warmth. Mark was probably at least six inches, maybe seven, with a pronounced upward curve, and very hard. Its circumcised head glistened with Lisa's saliva as she withdrew it from her mouth to stick her tongue in the oozing hole and suck just the tip of his cock. I was frankly surprised that he didn't shoot then and there. I think I might have, under the circumstances. Speaking of me, I still had the towel around my waist, but my hand was rubbing my erection under it. I don't know why, but I felt a little self-conscious, for some reason, about stroking my bare cock in front of this man. Here he is, eating out my wife, having her suck his cock, about to fuck her, and I'm feeling shy. Go figure. The moment of truth was upon us. Mark got up on his knees between Lisa's parted legs, his cock sticking out like a windsock in a gale, her pussy open and flushed. I got up so as not to be seen, and stood a little closer so I could see the penetration. Mark rubbed the head along the petals of her pussy, teasing the hypersensitive and swollen tissue. Her viscous emanations glistened. He placed the head at the notch and pressed himself slowly into her. Lisa gasped audibly with a ragged intake of air. I remained standing there as he first stuck it into her as far as it would go, then pulled back out without completely withdrawing. He then began to fuck her with a rhythm. Lisa's heels were touching the bed, but as he pumped in and out, her feet raised and began to kick the air in sync with his thrusts. I moved around to the foot of the bed and kneeled down so I could see between his thighs at his cock moving in her. Her pussy gripped him as his rigid member slid in and out. It was a sight I'll never forget. I went back to the side of the bed to see Lisa's face. Her eyes were still closed, but clenched more tightly shut. Her mouth was still open, more than before, and she had a furrow in her brow. She was intensely focused and even more intensely caught up in the pleasure she was receiving. I doubt she was even aware of my presence in the room at that point. She was gripping both of Mark's upper arms as he held himself above her, propped on his elbows and forearms. Mark continued to bang away in her, increasing the frequency and energy of his thrusts. Lisa began a low murmur, which soon evolved into a more vocal display, as she began to generate another explosive orgasm. Her heels locked behind his knees as her legs and body strained toward release. It came for her in spades, as she grunted and groaned with abandon. That apparently did it for Mark. He blurted out, "Oh, baby, I'm gonna come!" His thrusts quickened and he was breathing hoarsely. He buried his face against the side of her neck and cradled her head in his hands. Then he let out a heaving groan and his hips locked against Lisa's bottom. I could see the muscles of his ass and legs quivering as he shot his come into her. She held him to her with her legs, her fingers digging into his arms, while he continued to spasm within her. Although Mark was frozen against her in mid-stroke, Lisa kept rocking her pelvis. In moments, she came again. This time with an uncharacteristic squeal. I hadn't been aware of it, but my towel had fallen away and I was stroking myself openly. I was close to coming, but I didn't give in to it. Not yet. They lay there motionless, except for Lisa gently stroking Mark's sweaty back. A very loving gesture I noted, which gave me the first pang of what I guess was jealousy. I psychically shrugged the notion off. Mark still had his face against the side of Lisa's neck. He murmured something to her, and she murmured something in response, but I couldn't hear what was being said. After what seemed like several minutes, Mark lifted himself up and, after giving Lisa a little more than a love peck and a protracted stare, got up and off the bed. He walked into the bathroom without looking in my direction. Lisa didn't move, her eyes still closed, her legs still open. I made a point of looking between her legs at the still-swollen and open lips of her pussy. A stream of his deposit made a trail from the vaginal entrance, down across her anus, to the bedspread, where it gathered in a small puddle. I debated whether to get her wine and offer it to her, or to just let her lay there and bask in the afterglow. I opted for the latter. Mark exited the bathroom, carrying a towel. Say what you will about a married man fucking another man's wife that he'd met only an hour before, he was a gentleman. He laid the towel on the bed next to Lisa, who still didn't stir, and then proceeded to put his trunks back on. Mark leaned over and kissed Lisa's forehead, looked at me, nodded with a small smile, and went out the door. Once the door closed, Lisa "came to." She reached over to the nightstand and picked up her tumbler of wine, taking a sip. She frowned slightly. "Honey," she said softly, "could you put a little ice in here for me?" I did as requested, and did the same with my own glass. I returned to the chair and Lisa lay propped up on one elbow as she sipped at the wine. I was afraid to speak—more accurately, I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, she spoke first. "I think . . ." She paused to take a swig. She had the beginning of a smile forming on her expressionless face. "You, my dear, may have created a monster." "By that, can I safely assume you enjoyed it?" "I think that would be a safe assumption." "May I join you on the bed," I asked timidly. "That you may, but first, I need to go tinkle." She took the towel and, after blotting up the deposit on the bed, placed it against her crotch, got up and trotted off to the toilet. I was already on the bed when she returned. She lay down near me, her back propped on a pillow against the headboard. I moved around so I was on my side, facing her, braced on one elbow. "Did you already 'lose it,' as you put it, or are you gonna need some assistance?" she asked in a catty, taunting tone. "Matter of fact, it's still in there waiting." "Well, unless you want me to get up and take a shower, I'm afraid you're gonna find a little surprise waiting for you down there." "Actually, I thought we'd just talk a little . . . for now." "Not too long, I hope. I'm about ready to pass out, I'm so sleepy." "Well, in my humble opinion, I don't think we could have asked for a better first time. Mark was a real gentleman. From my perspective, it seemed he knew what buttons to push. Am I right?" Lisa smiled, then tried to stifle a yawn. "Never having been in this kind of situation before, I think I'd have to agree. I hate to say it, but I don't think I've ever been so turned on. And it wasn't because he was so good or anything, but you were right. The whole thing, the spa and everything, was so hot I coulda fucked a doorknob." She paused. "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way." I laughed. "Yeah, I can imagine. I know it was an incredible experience for me, so I can only guess how it must have been for you . . . and Mark. You know, when we first went down there and saw the two of them, I didn't know if it would turn out to be a total bust, what with the two of them there. I kinda figured either one would have been okay, just looking at them. I don't know, what did you think?" "To tell you the truth, I thought that Eddie would have been just fine with me. But when he left like that, I realized that Mark was . . . well . . . someone I wouldn't mind fucking. Can I be honest with you?" "Of course, honey." "I was so turned on down at the spa, I really think I would have fucked them both . . . at the same time . . . if you hadn't minded." She clamped her mouth shut, as though she regretted having said what she did. "Look, I know it was the whole scene, you know, what we had talked about so much before we got here. And when it started to all become so real, I was so turned on I just knew I had to experience it. You can thank yourself for that, my dear sweet husband." She hoisted her drink in a mock salute. "I think you're nothing short of great. I'm proud of you, and I love you more than I can put into words." I pushed myself up so I could kiss her. "What I said before? About you creating a monster? Well, I think maybe we might need to talk about it sometime. Like maybe trying it again?" Her hand went to my semi-flaccid, husbandly loyal member. It spasmed under her touch, immediately growing with appreciation. Lisa began stroking it to larger proportions. "Just keep doing that, and tell me about tonight." "Well, as you could tell, I got off a few times. It really did feel absolutely wonderful, having him doing what he was doing, and knowing you were there to see it. I didn't know how I would feel about that until the time came, but it didn't bother me. In fact, I think it turned me on more. No . . . I know it did." "I watched it when he first put it in you." "Oh?" She kept stroking. "I watched your face when you were coming." "Yeeesss." Still stroking. "I about lost it when he started coming in you, and you held on so tight and kept moving your hips until you came again." "Oh, yeah." I had started to finger her as she stroked me. "And I saw his come running out of you onto the bed." "Oh, honey!" "Oh, baby, I'm gonna come!" Lisa came on my fingers, just as I shot all over her hand and the bed. I don't even remember us falling asleep after that. We didn't even bother to clean up.