30 comments/ 83336 views/ 13 favorites Rules of Play By: Quin The couple in the corner of the dining room had booked into the seaside hotel the day previously. Not for a holiday but to get away from it all, and escape from the routine of married life. They had recently gone through a bad patch and had reached a turning point. Jim had been seeing another woman and Gemma had soon discovered his unfaithfulness. The bottom line was that they had grown away from each other and things had become a bit stale. Now they were at a crossroads. The sea air helped to make them feel relaxed to the point where talking was preferable to shouting and tearing each other apart. Money wasn't the problem though they were by no means rich -- sex was the cause of their rift. Gemma was still smarting and angry but she had accepted her lack of interest in sex played a large part in the reasons Jim strayed. "Maybe if we'd been a bit more adventurous," Gemma said. "I was willing -- you lacked the inclination!" Jim responded. "Okay, don't have a dig at me," his wife sighed. "I've often seen you eyeing up other women -- fantasising probably." "Not always -- sometimes I just wished that you would dress like they did, you know, sexy clothes." "Yeah, sure, and have you moan and accuse me of flirting -- get mad when men stared at me and smiled." "No I wouldn't have." Jim thought for a minute. "Why don't you try it -- tonight?" "What?" "Give it a whirl -- it'll make you feel better. If you dare that is -- you're too bloody prim and proper!" "Don't turn this into a row Jim. And how will you react if men ogle me and try to chat me up?" "Well let's play dangerous and damn well find out; do something adventurous for a fucking change!" The conversation went on for a long time, right until they walked out of the dining room and along the promenade. They arrived in the centre of the resort. "The shops are here -- put your money where your mouth is and buy something sexy for tonight." Gemma was in good humour, not least because she felt a little thrill. "Eh? You expect me to pay? Go and stuff yourself. You want me to dress to suit your taste -- then you cough up the dosh!" It was decided that Gemma would hit the shops while Jim went off and relaxed by the sea soaking up the sun. After all it wouldn't be a surprise or a thrill if he saw exactly what she was buying. Walking along with her purchases, feeling excited and eager to find Jim she spotted him sat on the sea wall, people watching -- or rather watching the girls in their short skirts and low-cut tops, even smiling at some as they walked by. Gemma felt her heart sink, though in her mind she felt determined and vowed that she would shake the man up. Maybe, if she proved brave enough, she could teach him a lesson. It was his idea for her to be more exciting, sexy and unpredictable, like the women he lusted over and chased -- then so be it! That evening the arrangement was that they would eat in the hotel's restaurant then visit a couple of bars and public houses. Neither of them were heavy or seasoned drinkers and would normally have spent the evening sitting in hotel bar nursing one drink after taking an evening stroll, but tonight called for a change of habit. Jim said he'd wait downstairs and have a small whiskey while Gemma got ready. A group of men, probably there on some sort of course or attending a conference, he thought, sounded a bit rowdy and raucous. A couple of other hotel guests sat in the lounge chatting. Jim stared out of the window contemplating, not really expecting his staid and steady wife to make much of an impression. He knew he would have to feign amazement and pretend she had the 'wow' factor, tell her how fantastic she looked. Gemma was his wife of five years -- he knew all about her for God's sake -- how could she surprise him? The room had become very quiet suddenly. Jim wondered if he'd gone deaf. Looking around he first noticed that the men who had stopped their loud talking all had their eyes fixed toward the door. Even the barman had slowed down to smile in the same direction. A very glamorous looking lady had entered the lounge. Her long shapely legs, well rounded lower limbs, muscles made taut by the high heels on her feet stepped daintily forward. Her full thighs pushed the loose woven material of her tight 'little black number' dress almost a couple of inches skyward making the men strain their eyes convinced they'd be able to glimpse her stocking tops. Breasts that defied physics by managing to stay covered by a very low neckline caused the gentle dancing movement of her upper torso. This wasn't Gemma. Jim knew his wife, what she wore what she looked like, what she was capable of looking like when she was scrubbed up -- this wasn't her. The sleek woman smiled at the group of men as she glided past. Jim almost expected to hear "Hello boys -- happy to see me?" like in some Mae West Hollywood film. When the woman came to sit across from Jim he drew in air and swore under his breath. "I can see your legs -- above your stockings!" he whispered nervously. "Of course you can," the sex bomb said laughing, "They go all the way up to my backside -- they always have done. What's the matter, can you not stand to see me acting like the women you usually lust over? You complained that I should have been more adventurous. So what did that mean, in your eyes? Dress in sexy clothes only between our own four walls; sit quite still and be sure not to attract attention from other men? You sound like one of those half-wits from the Internet who logs onto an erotic story site but when they read stories about outrageous sexy women they get all outraged in their underpants and demand that she ought to be whipped and burned -- a disgusting slut. Then they get angry with the author. Wonder why they go on those sites in the first place? Maybe they don't like being reminded that they are wimps or how many times they have been cuckolded themselves" "What?" spluttered Jim, "How the hell do you know about that stuff? You read filthy porn stories on the net?" "Ah!" laughed Gemma, "You see! If I read them you are outraged and call it filth -- if you or your buddies have to justify why you read them, then it's erotic literature! Like those outraged half-wits on the net you have double standards. Incidentally, I wonder how those 'burn the bitch' bozo's on the net go on in real life when they meet real women?" "I can't believe you read porn stories on the net!" Jim reiterated. "Does that unsettle you my dear husband?" asked Gemma with a wicked smirk, "You have always considered me unadventurous and therefore looked toward other women for thrills; why have you assumed that, well... if I ever have been adventurous, that you would be around to see me do it? Haven't the women you've chased with your dick, fornicated behind the backs of their men? Talk about being in denial and living a fairy-tale existence! And as for me reading porn stories -- bet you wonder if I masturbate over them!" Jim's mind was all over the place but he tried hard to gather his thoughts and counter-attack. "Why do women like you spend years putting on airs and graces -- pretending to be disgusted if their man shows any interest in sex, other than adopting the missionary position for ten minutes every other Saturday night -- wait until their relationship is floundering and the man starts to look elsewhere -- then announce, 'Hey, why are you doing that when I can be a sexy slut too?' I once read a story about a guy whose wife gave him the best sex ever only when she pretended that she believed it was someone else. She was capable of giving real good head but in spite of being married for years her husband had never experienced the delight! Not one reader commenting picked up on the fact she must have denied her husband the best sex she was capable of giving. Good writing though because that's the fucking logic you women adopt! You wouldn't do with your husband what you would do with a lover" Gemma sneered, ignoring most of the points raised, "Ten minutes on a Saturday night? Yeah, that's about right for most -- though usually with us sex begins when you crawl into bed after the late night sport around eleven forty-five. Allowing time for shuffling about and foreplay the gymnastics begin around five minutes to midnight and still manages to be over before the new day starts! Ten minutes? Sometimes you are snoring by then!" "Sarcastic bitch!" Jim snapped, rather louder than he had intended. "But you women ought to realise that you don't have the right to condemn a husband to lead a life of celibacy. If a woman doesn't want sex she shouldn't snivel in her knickers when she finds out her husband gets it elsewhere. The joke is when the guy leaves her for a younger model the frigid dowdy wife suddenly loses weight and makes herself glamorous. If she'd have done that earlier her husband might not have fucked off!" "The same thing applies in reverse - shithead," retorted Gemma, "If a husband can't be assed to make an effort, keeps touching his wife in the same place, in the same old boring way, expecting her to get turned on then jumps on her for a few minutes before 'cumming,' farting and then rolling over...well...he's only himself to blame if she looks elsewhere." "Yeah!" snapped Jim, jumping in quickly to make a point, "And gets it from a guy who probably does exactly the same thing with his wife!" "Sure!" said Gemma, "I'm not arguing with that -- that's my point -- if men like to stray with women who make more of an effort to be sexy -- then women like to stray with men who try to be a little bit more romantic and creative! Why, in this day and age should there be different rules for women?" "Romance my fucking arse -- that's a woman's excuse to make her feel better for being a slut -- 'Oh, he was romantic and my head was in the clouds, he seduced me -- led me astray! Bollocks! It's about fucking sex!" Jim was on his high horse. "Shit!" said his wife slowly, contemplating and staring at her wine glass. "You know what? We've finished up actually agreeing with each other." "How do you mean?" Jim asked. "We have both made a good case for thinking that sex will always be more exciting with someone new," explained Gemma. Jim, now calm and thoughtful, reasoned, "Well, that is, if the couple let the spark die out, become complacent." "Lose that spontaneity," added Gemma, "Is that what turned you on with your other women -- the unknown?" she asked. "There hasn't been that many!" Jim said in self-defence. "But yeah, it's like the thrill of the chase, I suppose." "I understand that," admitted Gemma, "Different hands, touching in different places, in a different way." "You sound like you're speaking from experience!" accused Jim, suddenly changing his mood. "Like I said in the beginning," his wife answered, "What made you think you would be there to witness me being adventurous -- same rules apply to women remember. Think about what you've already said -- did you think I wouldn't be capable of behaving just like those other sexy housewives you spent time chasing? Because almost all those women who glam themselves up to go those bars and clubs you frequent are simply just some other guys wife -- just regular housewives who wake up the morning after to face all those chores and maybe do the school run and go shopping." "This is just an act isn't it," laughed Jim, "You'd run a mile if it came to the crunch." "We've both made the same accusation against each other," said Gemma, "Time to find out!" With that she whipped up her wine glass, rose from her seat, and swanned off toward the bar -- and the group of men. "Where the hell are you going?" hissed Jim, as he jumped up to follow. For the second time that evening the men lost interest in their conversation and ogled Gemma's dancing breasts and meaty thighs. "Shit!" whispered the one in the striped tie, making Gemma blush, but giggle too. "Hello boys!" she smiled as she joined the group. "Hell -- she actually did say it!" came the loud cynically mocking voice of her husband as he caught up with her. "Sorry guys but my wife seems to think she's Mae West tonight." "No!" she's much sexier than Mae West," said one of the men. "Do you mind telling us what your name actually is?" he asked. "Gemma," said the sexy woman, noting that the man seemed to be talking to her tits. "How appropriate," said striped tie, "Truly you are like a precious stone -- a real jewel -- we must call you Gem I think -- what do you say men?" "Pass the sick bag -- I'm going to vomit!" whispered Jim into the ear of his smiling wife. She in turn whispered to him, "Do you use cheap chat-up lines like these gob-shites?" Jim didn't answer leaving Gemma thinking he may on occasion have done just that. "Gentlemen," began Gemma, "We've just been having a discussion, an argument really in fact -- and I wonder what your opinion is - do you think, that when it comes to sex, and infidelity, that its fair that there are different rules as to what is acceptable for the behaviour of women?" The men, taken by surprise, entered into a debate. "You've picked a bad time to ask," joked one man quietly to Gemma, "Our brains don't work too well when our bellies are full of drink; not to mention the added distraction from having your amazing body disrupt our concentration." Gemma glanced away slightly embarrassed but her eyes finished up dwelling on the crotches of two of the men who it seemed instead of following the argument had been more interested in watching her. "Are we to take it," enquired the late middle aged one, "That you, good lady, have been caught out in an indelicate situation?" "No she fucking has not!" snapped Jim. "Sorry mate," said another man, "Our friend here who sounds like he's walked straight out of a Charles Dickens novel is blunt because of the gin -- he's harmless really." The others laughed raucously at their ridiculed friend. "We do wonder why you've raised the question though." Gemma butted in, "My husband said I ought to be more exciting, sexy and seductive -- but when it comes down to it he's the one who would chicken out if I even implied I was about to misbehave. It started an argument about men, lovers and wives. I said that men expect their wives to be adventurous but when we are we are accused of being sluts. A man can go out and shag and he's admired by his pals -- a wife has a fling and the man's pals queue up to lynch her or burn her at the stake, calling a slut." "Wow! She doesn't take prisoners this one does she?" "We wouldn't think that lady." Gemma threw a challenging glance in the direction of her husband. "Jim here would throw a fit if I literally acted adventurous and sexy toward you guys." "Is that right Jim?" asked striped tie. "If we flirted and say, danced and enjoyed the company of Gem here would you flip?" "Not when I know she's doing it to annoy and rile me!" "So why don't we find out?" The atmosphere had suddenly changed. "What can happen here in a public hotel bar? Sure, let my wife have some fun -- it's all going to seem forced and artificial though." "Okay," said the challenger, "Given that you know it's contrived and false -- then you shouldn't let it bother you." There was now a tension in the air and the men now looked at Gemma wondering how far they dare to go, what liberties they might get away with. They clearly relished the thought of being able to touch and hold her -- press against that full well shaped body, those dancing breasts. A small wad of notes was passed over to the listening bartender with a request to put on some slightly more upbeat music. Gemma was now tingling in her belly, excited at the prospect of being passed around between these men, who she knew were already sporting erections. "Allow us to introduce ourselves," said the Charles Dickens soundalike. "I guess three of you are called Larry, Curly and Mo," scoffed Jim, then turning to the one who proposed the challenge, "So who are you pal, a Brad Pitt wannabe?" "Don't push it mate," growled the man with narrow close set eyes, "You two crashed in on our evening remember -- not we on yours." "Right! This was supposed to be light --hearted and fun. We will end it here -- you lasted all of three seconds pal!" the speaker addressed Jim. "Your wife was correct in assuming you would easily flip." Jim was shamed and reluctant to let his wife celebrate such an early victory. She would constantly throw his past discretions back in his face and remind him of how he couldn't take it when the tables were turned -- even though it was all pretend. Well she wasn't likely to fuck in front of him was she? "Sorry. Hey, it was just my sarcastic sense of humour, no sweat!" "As I was saying," Charles continued, "From left to right are Des, Guy and Wally. Carry on calling me Charles -- 'cause that's my name!" With a flourishing gesture of his arms he turned to the other small group of men who had moved along the bar. "These other gentlemen are here merely because they crave our company and marvel at our superior intellects!" The men laughed, "We'll amuse ourselves and watch the proceedings!" Jim noticed how they too were clearly feeling lustful by the way they mentally undressed Gemma. The men filled Gemma's glass when empty and danced, hugged and joked with her. It was harmless fun. The rock 'n roll numbers caused Gem's dress to ride up over her stockings; an event that came the nearest to anything approaching lewd and wild behaviour. Apart from, that is, her amazing wobbling breasts that seemed always on the verge of popping out of their restraints. How the men ogled her tits! The time ticked by, the other guests departed from the lounge. Jim had been in conversation with several men in turn but now had joined the separate group propping up the bar drinking and sorting out the problems of the world. The barman tactfully mentioned that the party shouldn't get out of hand in case the noise upset other guests. A couple of banknotes were placed into his hands with an apology and a request for moodier music. Gemma had enjoyed the attention. She had more than enjoyed seeing the men stare longingly at her tits, hoping her nipples would pop into view. Des had even whispered that hope into her ear causing her to giggle. She pretended not to notice when her dress rode up, happy to let the men see the tops of her legs. Now the music was slow and smoochy and hands drew the woman close to a hot body -- she felt hardness against her stomach -- an erect cock. Startled she looked round for Jim but he was too busy putting the world to rights - he hadn't noticed; he was facing away. Gemma let her body relax and swayed gently to the rhythm, rubbing up the stiff appendage. She felt very aroused and excited. When a hand slipped across to feel her left tit she gave a little start but allowed it to tickle and squeeze. The man stole a brief kiss -- then she was passed on. "I saw what he did!" whispered Guy. "He got to feel those lovely tits!" How could she deny him the same pleasure? The men circled Gemma and the music was old-fashioned dance band stuff, a rumba was next. The men waddled their bellies and closer they came, on all sides, pushing their bellies against her legs and arse. Their movements changed and now the dance didn't bear any resemblance to a rumba as crotches were thrust forward and tipsy men, affected by alcohol, stimulated hard cocks by pushing them against the sexy woman whom they had only dreamed about touching barely an hour ago. They would have dared to grope her tits had it not been for the harsh tones of the hotel manager who commanded that the barman hit the stop button of the music system. The group of men with Jim decided to take a hint and retired to bed. Rules of Play "Sorry guys, the party has to end," said the young barman. Jim came over and kissed his wife on the neck. "Had fun?" "Yeah!" she said. "It's been a long time since I had a good dance." "Watching you was quite a thrill," Jim said. "You were talking politics!" she laughed. "You know, that mirror behind the bar is set at a perfect angle. You enjoyed more than just the dancing!" She looked slightly guilty and sheepish. Jim whispered in her ear. "Told you! I found it quite a thrill!" Charles still had plenty of cash. "Hey barman, my good fellow! Give us a couple of bottles of that good stuff to take to our rooms." "I'm not allowed to do that sir -- I'd be fired" "For fucks sake man -- there's enough cash in my hand to double your weeks wages -- give us a bottle and I'll replace your stock in the morning." With one of his grand theatrical gestures he waved along the group. "Come on friends -- up to our rooms. We have to arouse this fine woman until she begs for our favours and her husband falls sick, insane with jealousy!" "I don't think we can go quite that far!" Des laughed. Wally looked at Jim with a wry smile, "We only got as far as having a dance." "Then the contest has hardly started!" stated Charles. Jim laughed, "You're pissed Charlie boy! But okay, we'll have the last drink upstairs with you." Gemma's opinion wasn't sought. That made her mad -- she was being taken for granted -- people talking over her head. Follow like an obedient puppy. They piled into the hotel room, which wasn't really that spacious. Gemma intended making a stand, have the men sit and listen while she gave them a feminist lecture; all feelings of sexual arousal were swept aside for now. She never got the chance. Guy with the narrow eyes was again in a confrontational mood. "So Jim, tell me -- if you really were happy to let your wife have her moment -- you know -- get even with you, go out and enjoy some male company -- what do you imagine would happen?" His whole tone sounded unfriendly. "You tell me Dr Freud," answered Jim. "Well, you say you wouldn't get mad -- but how far do you think she'd go?" "Shouldn't you be asking me that question?" snapped a bemused Gemma. "So you answer then!" said Guy abruptly, giving the woman a disagreeable look. Gemma was put on the spot. "I don't know," she admitted. Wally was more intoxicated than the rest, "Oh shut up -- come on Gem, lets dance." He took hold of Gemma and began to move her to and fro, in a slow smooch. She felt his dick begin to rise against her body. Guy watched and smiled, "See, Jim, if she was out somewhere -- and mad at you -- she'd have men pressing against her, wanting a handful of those big performing breasts -- and she'd most likely see that as a way to get revenge -- by letting them touch -- then have her." Des took that as cue and joined Wally, holding Gemma from behind, grinding his crotch into the top of her thigh. "What about you Gemma?" asked Guy. "Your husband is standing here on the brink of throwing in the towel. Are you going to chicken out too -- admit you're not as adventurous as you make out now you've got Wally slobbering over you?" The older man Charles was sat on the bed busy knocking back the drink. "He can take it -- they both can take it," he said calmly. Jim took a deep breath. "Gemma! Look at me! Do you want to stay a little longer -- have some more fun?" She stared back at her husband wondering how he defined fun; she remembered his comment about the mirror -- and how watching her had thrilled him. Though this was now about to turn sour, thanks to the bad apple in the bunch. Gemma was puzzled, wondering what her husband might do next. "I don't mind if we stay awhile," she told him, as Des began to kiss her neck. "I have to make a small change first," Jim said, smiling to let his wife know that it was okay for Des to carry on. Gemma kept her eyes on her husband as Des nibbled her earlobe and pressed his dick into her. Wally was happy for now stroking a hand down her right thigh as he swayed back and forth. "So what is this change pal?" Guy asked. "I need to remove an irritation," said Jim a second before his fist propelled the mouthy man across the room. Des straightened up as though he might make a move though Wally ignored the drama. As Guy landed on the lap of Charles the older man took a firm grip just below his chin. Though he seemed as pissed as a fart the older man was fully aware, and very strong. "You always spoil a party with your stupid mouth," he told his compatriot. "This man is very generously letting his wife have some fun with us -- she is enjoying the evening and it's all very erotic. But you have to aggravate him and cause a bad atmosphere. Apart from that you almost spilt the entire contents of my bottle. That is quite unforgivable!" After expressing his dismay the theatrical Charles smartly and sharply brought up his knee to inflict great pain in Guy's testicles. The man, now quiet, crawled his way out of the room and off to his bed. Gemma had been speechless; more than a little scared, but now felt an overwhelming reassurance that she was free to explore her inner hidden urges and push back the boundaries. The remaining men, apart from being quite merry seemed docile and happy just to have some fun. Jim had shown that any anger or misgivings he harboured had been toward the mouthy Guy, now all those left in the room were relaxed and easy. She gave a little giggle when Wally's hand crept higher taking the hem of her dress up with it, right above her stocking tops. "Ah!" sighed the watching Charles, "I love the sight of a woman's legs clad in silky stockings!" Wally thought he might please his friend Charles so carefully pulled up Gemma's dress evenly each side until her panties came into view, standing aside for a moment or two to let the man enjoy the sight. Gemma was quite taken back by the action but allowed it to happen, her feelings of sexual arousal increasing by the second knowing she was on display for the pleasure of the middle--aged man. "What a sight!" declared Charles, "Do you mind old chap?" He didn't wait for Jim's permission before he fumbled with the zip of his trousers and fiddled around inside. The aroused woman was raised to new heights realising that this stranger was about to show her his penis and masturbate while enjoying the sight of her body. How she thrilled when the hands of the other two men became more active, feeling her tits and stroking around the area of her pussy. She glanced at her husband again looking for signs that things may have gone a step too far -- she saw none. Jim was now sat in a chair, his expression content and his mood placid. She reasoned it would be fine if she let things progress. Now she was ogling the stiff cock of the older man, watching as he pulled on the foreskin. Another zip began to be unfastened but this time it was hers; Des was undoing her dress. "Show me those magnificent tits!" Charles begged. "Hang on!" said Gemma, calling a halt to the proceedings, "I'm not standing here like a piece of meat at a cattle auction!" Her husband laughed. Gemma walked over to him and indicated she wished to sit on his knee. A hard lump pressed between her buttocks and she wriggled, hanging on to him with one hand while the other prevented the top of her dress from falling loose completely. "You're forgetting that my wife wanted to make a point -- same rules for women! She will call the shots." "Yeah!" said Gemma, comfortable on the knee of her husband, "I'll sit here and relax with a drink -- you show me what you have between your legs -- and I'll pass comment on you!" Jim laughed again slipping an arm around the waist of Gemma. "Are you turned on?" he whispered. "Yeah, very much so, what about you?" she whispered back. "I'm surprised by how much!" he told her. "I'm not sure exactly how far I want this to go." The tone of his voice and the manner of his look gave him away. Gemma realised that he was extremely excited, probably scared that he would push her beyond the limit of what she was prepared to do. She didn't really want to spell it out in as many words but the housewife was definitely up for more. Meanwhile the men who had been fondling Gemma joked with Charles and snatched the bottle off him, ready for a drink. They made fun of his cock that was now losing its hardness. "I've never felt like this before," Gemma admitted, "Being undressed in front of strange men is usually something that remains a fantasy for normal housewives. If you find it exciting - and want me to do more -- I will do." She kissed his cheek and looked him the eye, "You do want it to go further don't you? It's okay, as long as there are no recriminations later." "You can feel how hard my dick is," Jim said, "That ought to give you a clue as to what I want!" Gemma bent her head and kissed her husband passionately, she broke away to speak, whispering heavily in his ear. "I've never been so excited," she panted, "I'll go as far as you want me to -- show me what you want!" The tipsy but jovial men disturbed the private tryst. "Hey! Are you two having your own party?" Des walked over, handed Gemma a glass and topped up Jim's drink; his crotch came very close to the face of the woman. Jim saw the lust in her eyes as she almost kissed the big bulge that showed the outline of his shaft. "We're waiting for you guys -- Gemma told you what you have to do!" Giggling like schoolboys Des and Wally began a striptease, posing and dancing for the amusement and pleasure of the sexy housewife. "It's all good harmless fun," muttered the drunken Charles. To Gemma it was more than that. She experienced new sensations and thrills, every nerve ending felt like an erogenous zone. Her rate of breathing increased dramatically when the men stood in nothing more than their underwear. The sexual electricity transferred itself from Gemma to Jim -- he felt her arousal. "Come on guys, show her what you've got!" Wally and Des still managed a show of coyness, before they teasingly lowered their shorts. Gemma breathed in sharply taking in air and her eyeballs widened when she saw the full glory of the two almost erect cocks. Jim had a plan that would thrill his wife even more. "I know how to make them harder!" he whispered, kissing her neck. Taking hold of his wife's dress he gradually tugged it inch by inch up toward her waist, giving the men a clear view of her panties. Sure enough the two dicks responded, twitching and standing proud -- even Charles became alert and his dick came back to life. Gemma moaned softly. Jim hadn't finished yet. Reaching to the front he took hold of the hand Gemma was using to hold up the front of her dress. Both knew that when she let go her dress would fall away and she would expose her tits. The men knew too and having stopped the silly dance watched hungrily. Gemma saw them begin slow movements, pulling their foreskins to and fro, making the big red helmets with the tiny piss-hole appear to swell. She didn't resist and let her husband guide her hand away from her front. "You're not wearing a bra are you?" whispered Jim. "No!" she hissed. The weight of the cloth fell away from her orbs displaying her red erect nipples and lily-white tits. "Fucking Hell!" cried Wally, masturbating his dick. "I want to fuck you!" Jim breathed in her ear. "In front of everyone -- now! While they watch?" his startled, but very excited and aroused wife asked. "In a couple of minutes -- yes!" Gemma was stammering, her gaze fixed on the big cocks, "Why -- a couple of minutes?" Jim didn't answer but instead gently forced apart her thighs and placed his finger on the slit of her pussy. Slowly moving along the crease he pressed her panties into her vagina until the men saw them becoming wet. With his spare hand he circled her chest and rolled her nipple between his digits, occasionally squeezing hard forcing her to jump and utter short moans of surprise and delight. Gemma had no choice but to look in front at the men and often their eyes met causing her degenerate and depraved feelings. The men saw how keyed-up and aroused she had become as she watched them masturbate. When she was asked to open her legs a little wider, she smiled wantonly and obeyed. Jim had a new delightful treat in store for the men. When his fingers found the hem of the gusset of her panties he slowly but firmly pulled her underwear to one side showing off the puffy vulva and the damp juicy slit. Now he used his fingertip to open up the tiny envelope of skin that covered and hid her clitoris. Applying just enough pressure and movement he made her cry out and groan, exciting her enough to cause her pelvis to gently thrust forward. "Shall I fuck you now?" Jim asked softly. "Yeah!" she breathed. "Do you want to hold those cocks -- pull back that foreskin and feel the hotness on your cheeks?" Gemma moaned loudly. Her mind puzzled over the meaning and relevance of his words -- hotness, cheeks? "How?" she begged, almost inaudibly sobbing with pleasure. Raising her weight from his lap he quickly brought out his cock. He intended fucking her while she straddled his lap but decided he would prefer that she faced him -- for there might just be acts he would want to watch! Standing and pushing her toward the bed he deposited her into the arms of Des while he whipped off his clothes. Des and Gemma kissed greedily, his hands played with her tits. Taking back possession of his wife Jim indicated how he wanted her, and the amazed wife straddled his cock, as he lay flat on the bed. Charles, who had come to life stood and spluttered frantically working his dick. Gemma sounded almost manic as her husband began to fuck her. It felt weird knowing that she was having sex in the presence of three naked men while she remained dressed, given that her dress was crumpled around her waist and her knickers had been pulled to one side. Charles of course was still clothed with just his fat dick hanging out. "Let her play with your cocks!" Jim told the two men. Des and Wally came either side of the ecstatic woman. She giggled and sighed, amazed that she about to take hold of a pair of stiff cocks -- while sat across her husbands lap with his dick inside her cunt. She hesitated at first then as her pleasure heightened she became eager and gave lewd smirks and contented sighs. Jim had mentioned hotness felt on her cheeks -- she reasoned that he expected her to make that happen. Smiling down at her husband who was thrusting deep inside her she reached out and brought the bodies of the happy men closer to her. Now she very deliberately teased Jim by waving the cocks close to her face. "Go on!" her husband urged as he rammed his cock into her sex tube. Gemma pressed a cock against her cheek, catching the manly, musky odour. She let out a long sigh then warmed her cheeks with the hot rods, on either side. "Go on!" said Jim again, "More!" Gemma's heart thumped knowing just what her husband was urging to do. Her face took on a serious look and she drew in a long breath, hardly able to believe she would dare to perform the dirty depraved act her husband had requested. Slowly pressing the cocks against her cheeks she gradually positioned the tips closer and closer to either side of her lips. The men were patient holding their libidos in check, breathing deeply, waiting while the woman was ready. She looked down at her husband, sensing the overpowering lust that consumed his every fibre. At first there was an almost imperceptible parting of her lips. The tips of the two cocks now touched the corners of her mouth. Subconsciously the men must have moved forward ever so slightly because she tasted salty pre-cum. Jim had slowed his movements; his eyes wide open, waiting for his wife to grant his wish. Gemma kept her eyes fixed on him. Now Jim could see the whiteness of her teeth and he growled with gleeful pleasure knowing her mouth was ready to open wide; the cocks pushed against the corners of her mouth and the pressure forced her mouth to open a little more. Gemma moaned with sexual abandon as she tugged the stiff cocks that last few centimetres and opening her mouth wide took both passed her luscious lips and sucked the purple helmets. Jim let out a loud shout and grinned, fucking his wife as he watched her kiss and lick, moving her tongue over the men's piss-holes. With hardly the space for both cocks at once in her facial orifice she alternated between the two, grinding down on Jim's cock as she sucked. Hands played with her tits, squeezing, inflicting delightful pain. The scene depicted a degenerate orgy of which the ancient Romans would have envied. Suddenly Gemma's eyes darted back and forth between Wally's cock and her husband; on her face was a confused inquiring expression as though she sought permission or guidance. Charles had sensed what was about to happen and shouted out. "Take it in your mouth Gem my dear!" When Jim saw his wife open her mouth really wide he knew she had already made up her mind. Thick white gluey blobs of jism came spurting forth without warning, clinging to her tongue, dripping off the edge, some shooting to the very back of her mouth. To Jim's surprise she didn't flinch or hesitate, happily taking in the salty sperm even wiping her lips with her tongue, like she was devouring melting ice cream. On her right her other hand continued to wank the cock of Des, but now he too was about to climax. Without any hesitation Gemma opened wide ready to drink the sperm of the second man and drink she did as his, being more liquid could almost have been mistaken for his piss. Jim was shocked when his wife, without warning began to grind down on him hard and fast - he knew some part of the act had affected her, intensifying the sexual joy she enjoyed from this depravity and wild abandon. Still she sucked on the slackening cocks until Charles, mustering up any strength he had left, given his drunken state, pushed Wally out of the way and demanded Gemma suck every drop of spunk from his dick. Gemma duly obliged, taking the older man's shaft in both hands, sucking and wanking it deep into her mouth; it was a task that didn't take long to complete. With sperm dribbling down her face Gemma gripped the bedcovers, staring down intently at her husband -- they fucked away - both were lost in their own dirty dreams. In the morning the dining room was silent save for the clinking of cutlery and chinking of plates. The business-suited men, Charles, Des and Wally, waved a silent goodbye as they trooped out having had an early call. Behind them marched the mouthy and bruised Guy, who didn't bother waving. "I wouldn't have believed we could be capable of doing that!" Jim said. "I really don't know what to say," Gemma admitted. "I'm glad we don't have to face them this morning though." It was a sunny day so it suited both to spend some time lazing around on the beach, dozing but really avoiding conversation. The day passed uneventfully until they strolled back to the hotel. The receptionist beckoned Jim -- he had received a call. The upshot of it was that he was needed urgently at his place of business. Gemma was disappointed; the break would have to be cut short. There followed a long discussion "Why don't I drive back tonight, when I've had a meal? If I can sort things out first thing tomorrow then I can be back mid afternoon; you stay here." It seemed a good idea. They had a meal together and Jim packed a few items in a bag. "By the way," he said as he was about to leave, "I wouldn't be leaving you here if the others hadn't have left." He smiled, reassured that most of the guests in the dining room were middle --aged couples and families. Jim wasn't sure he could trust Gemma now. Rules of Play "I'll take a stroll then settle down with a good book," she told Jim. Life is full of twists and turns. Around seven-thirty Gemma took her stroll, her mind going over the sexual adventure of the previous night. By the time she returned to the hotel she decided that a stiff drink was needed before she retired to her room. A chance meeting changed the course of events. "Hello." Gemma had just been chatting to the young barman and was sat on a stool; she turned to see two large African men. "You are on your own tonight -- is your man gone now?" The faces didn't ring a bell -- she would have noticed two big black guys. "Have we met?" she asked politely, knowing that they hadn't. "Your man was speaking to our friends last night when we arrived. Maybe you didn't see us -- we did not stay in the bar." "Yeah right!" said Gemma, "Jim spent time with some guys while I was dancing. He's had to go home actually -- but he'll be back tomorrow." "We watched you from the small room over there," the big man told her in the slow way certain African's speak English. "You were dressed very nice -- we liked your gown." Gemma blushed knowing he really meant he liked the way it showed off her cleavage and her tits. The man gave her names she had no hope of remembering. "My companion and I are from the Nigerian Trade Delegation," he explained. "I hope you will keep us company tonight." "Well," laughed Gemma, "I'm just about to go to my room -- but thanks for the invitation." "We will pay you," said the black man. "What?" Gemma stuttered, "I think you have the wrong idea!" She was about to leave when the men from the night before appeared around her. "I heard the proposition," said the main man smiling, "I'll explain the error to my friend -- allow me to apologise." "He thinks I'm up for hire!" said Gemma, flabbergasted by the audacity of the man. "We were with your husband last night," explained the smart man, dressed in an expensive suit. "We saw you partying -- and I'm afraid our friends here arrived just in time to peep into the room and see how you let your hair down. Not only that but unfortunately the guy with the bruises who left this morning painted a very colourful picture of you -- and was very indiscreet. I'll put thing right," the man promised, "Meanwhile, would you like a drink?" Gemma thanked the man but chatted awhile to him before excusing herself - he leaving his two colleagues entertaining the men from the Trade Delegation. "This would never happen with a man would it? If a man had 'had a party' would he be expected to be on offer to anyone and everyone the following morning -- does every man here now expect that I'm obliged to make myself available should they fancy a piece of me?" The man refused tactfully to get drawn into an argument about the sexes but did make a point. "Well, they probably think that as your husband allows you to 'swing' a bit in his presence, and as they saw how you were enjoying yourself last night -- you might be looking forward to having another evening of similar entertainment -- given that you're a free bird tonight." The man smiled with a twinkle in his eye adding, "And who can blame them for trying -- you're a very sexy looking lady?" Gemma felt her cheeks blush, wondering how the hell she, a regular, simple-living housewife, had finished up being viewed as a sex object. She tried to hide the sudden feeling of shock that had come over her, as her mind rapidly replayed the events of the night before. Awkwardly, and feeling out of her depth the housewife explained how she had come to be there in the first place -- how this was an experience that was way out of character. The man listened intently but smiled wickedly when he pointed out how Gemma had nevertheless enjoyed herself; she chose not to respond. They talked a while more about less controversial subjects until Gemma decided to go back to her room and wait for Jim's call and to read that book. She had though felt compelled to eye up the other men, not least the big Nigerians, seeing the lust and desire in the way they let their gaze drift over her, undressing her with their eyes. "I'll be off now," she told her companion, smiling. "Well, if you get bored and change your mind...!" said the man, "Come back down and spend the evening in our company. We're having a private little gathering later in a side room with some other business contacts -- you're welcome to come and join us." Again he wore a wicked grin, "Who knows, you may even find yourself curious to know if it's true what they say about black men!" Gemma blushed, but laughed, no longer feeling indignation, be it genuine or contrived. "Really!" she said, walking away, "You're terrible!" The evening passed slowly with Jim's call coming late. Gemma in her impatience had knocked back a couple of large G and T's, but most annoying of all was that the book she had intended settling with proved to be very boring. Or maybe she had trouble concentrating; her mind dwelt on other matters. She didn't need to stay in her room alone -- Jim had said he was off to meet some of his managers in a club, sort out the problem, and decide on the strategy. Why a club, she wondered? Wasn't that the club were he'd met 'that woman'? How many women had there been since they wed, anyway? Jim often got to enjoy the company of other women in his business. Maybe, if she went downstairs and attended that party -- it would give her a great insight into how Jim behaves -- all she would need to do is note the behaviour of the other men. Are these events really about business? Of course she would be justified in trying to find out. In fact, she was already showering, thinking of what she might wear. There was nothing wrong in looking glamorous was there, sexy even? Dress the part and see how the men react, she thought! For a moment Gemma felt a need to examine her motives, she wondered why it mattered that she take so long to decide on the preferred choice of lingerie, who was going to see it? Her heart beat a little faster but she pushed unwholesome thoughts out of her mind. A half hour later, Gemma entered the smallest of the hotel's function rooms, nervous due to being without an escort. She had no need to worry as the smart man glided along side her. "I know you're Gemma -- I'm Peter -- thought it a good idea if you at least knew my name!" he smiled. The housewife laughed, already feeling comfortable; she would have a pleasant time. In spite of her lack of knowledge of business matters Gemma mixed in well, circulating and getting into long chatty conversations with both men and women. More than once she had turned to meet the dark penetrating eyes of the tallest of the black men seeing how he focused down the front of her pale coloured silky blouse. Not that it stopped her from talking to him, allowing him to feast his eyes on her cleavage as they chatted away. The party eventually took on a more casual air, with music and dancing and Gemma accepted several invitations from interested men. Peter came across frequently making sure she was okay, filling her in on the various characters of interest. A particular glamorous woman apparently was one of the most astute of businesswomen she was told. Gemma later saw her slope off with a couple of men whose expressions gave away their game. "She 's a demon in the boardroom," said Peter, "But she makes no secret of her sexual preferences. Soon she will be indulging in macho/sadism with those guys. There's another man in here -- I won't mention his name -- who likes nothing better than watch his wife with men that he selects." Peter leaned over and whispered, "So you see -- if you decide to play -- well you won't be the only one here!" "Are you propositioning me?" Gemma asked. "Hardly!" he said, "No offence to you -- but I'd be more likely to proposition your husband -- being as I'm gay! I'm just letting you know that many here work hard and play hard -- and that includes the women. Gemma laughed wondering why she felt disappointment at his revelation -- she had warmed to Peter. His words echoed in her head, 'Should you decide to play'. Who would she play with -- would she even dare to play? Now her nerves were on edge, for she had felt safe in believing the other guests would leave her alone while Peter was seen to be her chaperone. Now her cool was shattered and she felt vulnerable, available. If other male guests knew Peter was gay then she was easy prey, they would see her as an easy pick-up. Nevertheless, Gemma stayed at the party, enjoying the mixed company, dancing, but being careful to stay with other couples and females. Perhaps she didn't trust herself rather than the predatory males. Inevitably, their came a time when the party thinned out and Gemma realised she was only one of two females left. "Have you enjoyed yourself?" said a deep voice from behind, as she was busy draining her glass. Turning to see the big Nigerian man she nodded, before eyeing his equally well-built companion. He introduced the second man with a name she immediately forgot, given the awkward pronunciation. "I know you like to enjoy the same pleasures as we," the black man said in the stilted accent of many an educated African attempting to find the right words and sound middle class English. "We would be very pleased if you come back to our room for a final drink." Gemma looked visibly shocked by his blatant direct approach; not only by the insinuation but his use of the word 'we'. What an amazing 'chat-up' line, was her thought! Her nerves rattled and stomach turned, her heart went into overdrive as her brain gave his words their real meaning. "Come to our room and have sex with us both!" was what they really meant. She didn't, and couldn't, answer; instead she tried to come to terms with the confusion felt as her inner devil invoked a wanton and decadent sense of excitement that fought against her natural reaction. She felt silly even, realising that the men were talking but she was not hearing, because she was flippantly thinking it would be her opportunity to actually experience for herself whether the cocks of black men deserved their reputation. "What is it you are drinking?" asked the Nigerian, "We can take a bottle to our room." Gemma's automatic answer to such a question was always to explain that she didn't drink much and her long glass of white wine was really mostly soda water. "Ah, very good!" laughed the big black man, "You don't require and rely upon alcohol to enhance the pleasurable experiences of life!" The room was now almost empty, as the last guests diverted the attention of the men to say goodnight Gemma quietly drifted away to take the staircase to her room. She met the young barman from the night before in the lobby and beckoned him over. "Could you do me a favour," she bid, "Save me hanging around at the desk? Will you make sure I get an early call in the morning? My husband will be back sometime tomorrow before noon and I want to be up and ready chance he turns up very early." "I understand," he said, with a knowing look. Gemma wanted to explain he probably had quite the wrong impression but she was still fighting those inner demons and wanted to hurry away. She climbed the cold twisting stairway up to her floor. Slipping through the fireproof door into the corridor she found herself amid a group of rowdy guests who had just alighted from the elevator. Gemma didn't even look up but was forced to follow their slow pace as they blocked her way. Then one voice caused her body to tense; the deep rise and fall of an African who pronounced every syllable as though each was a separate word. She followed in a daze, not noticing that the group disappeared into various rooms -- and she was left again with the two black men. One carried a bottle; the label said it was soda water. It seemed they had decided that she would accept their invitation to fuck! "All are away to their beds," said the Nigerian Trade official, "And the few that are not will not care what other people are doing. No one will know." As he spoke Gemma became aware that he his companion had unlocked the door to Suite No 2. Where they stood they almost blocked the corridor, but she was by no means obese and could easily have walked around the big black bodies. "Goodnight! No thank you," was all she needed to have said. But Gemma now did not think -- her brain did not function in its logical, rational, conscious way. The door swung open, nothing was said -- Gemma, feeling her heart beating so hard it almost hurt her chest turned to her left -- and into the room. She heard the door close, followed by the turning of the key in the lock. "I will pour you a white wine and you can add the soda water to your liking," said the black man. "You are very nervous -- perhaps I'd better pour for you. You will soon relax -- and enjoy the rest of the evening." Normally Gemma found the gentle touch of fingers massaging her neck and shoulders very relaxing. The companion with the impossible name was massaging her now but it was making her nerves go on edge and her breathing laboured. She took a glass from Delegate, staring at the shimmering, tiny bubbles, then watched as he threw off his jacket and loosened his tie; her eyes became glued on the growing bulge in the front of his trousers, the thick, long, truncheon-like appendage that continued to swell. The material around her chest and shoulders suddenly became slack; Companion was unzipping her dress. As her outer clothing fell to the floor Gemma's instinct was to protest but she was silenced by the sight of Delegate who, after swiftly discarding his trousers felt the long outline of his massive penis beneath his underwear. She was riveted and when hands came from her rear to cup her breasts she did nothing but draw in breath deep and slow. "I like nylon stockings -- and silky lingerie!" exclaimed Delegate. "First I would like to watch." Gemma didn't understand what he meant though it made her conscious that she was standing before this black stranger in stockings and suspenders, flimsy panties and bra only. Her nipples had become hard and as she glanced down she saw big black fingers, with a deceptively gentle touch stimulating the very tips, then they rolled the red tits between finger and thumb. Her eyes returned to Delegate's crotch and she found herself wishing he would pull out his weapon and allow her to see it in all its glory. The wish was granted when Companion dropped his hand to the gusset of her panties and poked a big black finger inside the hem to feel her damp cunny. Delegate smiled approvingly and tugged down the waistband of his shorts to uncover a monster dick that sprung up toward the ceiling. Gemma gave a cry and gasp and wriggled her hips involuntarily, pushing her belly against Companions arm and hand. "Take her into the bedroom!" he ordered. A minute later Gemma was laid on a bed, resting on her elbow nervously awaiting the second big African to strip naked. When his wide glistening chest cast a shadow over her she saw that his penis, long, swollen and stiffened by the blood filled veins was easily a match for Delegate's. "Suck my friend!" demanded the watcher, slowly drawing up the foreskin of his cock. Gemma felt a desire, a longing to be able to hold both dicks in her hands, to examine each member in detail. Leaving caution to chance she reached out and closed her fingers around the nearby shaft and turned its bulbous purple head toward her mouth. She doubted her ability to take the monster between her lips but she was now eager to try. The devil in her was taking over; she reasoned in her head that since her husband had been so unfaithful how she was entitled to do the same. Her tongue licked the black man's piss hole. Pumping the cock she worked her wrist to rapidly slide the black shiny foreskin up and down the hard shaft. "Open wide!" a voice said. She half closed her eyes and let the tip enter her facial orifice tasting tiny drops of fluid, pre-cum, mixed with piss. The sweaty musky odour of man filled her nostrils as she moved her face toward the big man's belly, his cock reaching the back of her throat. Hands began to pull down her panties while fingers tickled her cunt. At first it didn't occur to her to ask herself whom the fingers belonged to, then she realised with horror that they could not possibly belong to either man present. With the large torso of Companion blocking her view while his weight prevented her from forcing her body upright all she could do was stop sucking and voice her concern. "What's going on?" Her knickers were off. "Keep sucking!" ordered Companion, forcing his cock back between her lips. It was too late to clamp her legs together as right away her vagina was invaded and filled, her legs held wide apart, her feet raised in the air. It happened so fast -- she was being fucked by a third person, unable to protest as a hard dick blocked her mouth. This was what Delegate had wanted to watch -- a white housewife being gang-banged by his black friends. She was shocked and ashamed, and felt delightfully depraved. Gemma sucked obediently on the cock -- and thrust her hips against the unknown penis that was fucking her. To her delight she was at last experiencing how it felt for her sex-hole to be filled by a black man with a monster penis. When Companion thrust into her mouth she held his foreskin back down toward the base of his shaft and made him grimace as her teeth grazed over his tender parts. It was too much for him to bear and withdrawing he impatiently wanked his cock over her face, covering her with his sperm. Now Gemma, able to see who owned the dick that was shagging her, smirked and wrapped her legs around his waist. Still smirking she looked Delegate in the eye, noticing he was still slowly playing with his weapon happy for now just to watch. When her lover shot his load inside her pussy she had a moments respite, waiting, expecting Delegate to take the final fuck. "Any of you guys care to make use of this insatiable cunt?" Gemma, right away wondered why the Nigerian's English had improved immensely over the last few minutes and even taken on a different accent making him sound West Indian. She had been fooled -- but for what reason. A further unexpected surprise came from the 'guys', three men, who unknown to her had been in the next room, and who now wandered in the bedroom, to see her laid legs spread and ready, naked aside from stockings and bra. The first one to strip off pulled to her feet and obeying the instructions of Delegate entered her in a standing position lifting her feet from the ground. "Fuck her arse!" was the call. Now she begged and screamed until her cries where muffled with a scarf. Held impaled on a black dick her anus was exposed while greasy fingers oiled her brown hole. Dull guttural sounds where heard as a lubricated cock worked its way into her shithole -- then the pistons thundered away, fucking her in both holes. Part of Gemma's brain switched off. Her arse seemed a favourite hole though her cunt was seldom empty, until eventually, with sperm dripping from every orifice she was unceremoniously flung onto the bed. A big shadow blocked out the light -- Delegate was now about to take his turn. "Lick my arsehole!" he commanded, straddling her and covering her face with his black underside. "Lick my arsehole and suck my big black balls." Gemma had gone into sex slave mode and simply obeyed. She found brief moments of sanity as she caught a glimpse of Delegate's long shaft and decided having it inside her cunt was preferable to the pain it would certainly cause should it be up her arse. Her tongue licked the brown hole and tried to find its way in -- she sucked happily on the shaven testicles that hung down over her face. Maybe she would be able to manipulate him and get her own way. Rules of Play "Please fuck me -- I want your cock inside me!" she begged. Okay!" he said. Standing he signalled to his accomplices. To her horror Gemma was pulled up and bent over the arm of a chair. "No!" she yelled, "Not like that!" Delegate's massive cock was forcing open her anus. "No, it's too big!" The man laughed manically but to her great relief slipped his dick into her soaking cunt instead. "You have to be good or I change my mind!" he said. She wriggled and squeezed her pelvic muscles tight in an effort to satisfy the man and eagerly took any cock that appeared in front of her face between her lips. She entered a new sexual dimension as her libido grew and her lust increased tenfold. Lifting her knees onto the seat she raised her backside high opening up her wrinkled hole. "I've changed my mind!" she hissed loudly, "I want you up my arse -- fuck me in the arse!" The black man laughed and swapped holes pushing his dick fully home, making her squeal. When Delegate finally sank away with appetite sated Gemma's arsehole was up on offer for any takers. The exhausted woman slept sporadically on the bed of the black man amongst other bodies. As morning came she remained in the suite while those who woke with an inclination wanked off in her mouth. Everyone else had long ago gone down to breakfast by the time Gemma hurried along the corridor to her own room. A long hot shower with plenty of soap was what she needed to wash away her sins. Naked and dry she took time out to settle her mind. There was a knock at the door. Wrapping up in a bathrobe she answered the knock, opening the door to see the young barman. "Just thought I'd let you know -- for the record -- I personally came to give you an early call -- you didn't answer. Guess you wasn't in here." Gemma realised the barman knew she had misbehaved. "Come on in," she said. The young man sauntered into the room trying to peek down her cleavage. Gemma saw where his interest lay and hoped to gain his trust making sure he didn't blab when Jim returned. "It doesn't look like my husband is returning early after all. I'll call him and check to see if he's on his way." The barman nodded and turned to leave. "Stay a minute if you like -- I haven't thanked you for your trouble -- you deserve a tip." Gemma made her telephone call leaning against a dresser, lifting a leg to rest her foot on a chair, knowing she was showing more inner thigh than she ought to. There followed a conversation, then, hanging up she turned to the young man. "Well my husband won't be here for quite a while," she purred suggestively. She looked down at her own cleavage then back to the boy. "I think I know how I can thank you." Watching the lads growing excitement and seeing movement in his trousers Gemma let him ogle for a minute. She was very aroused herself. "Are you interested in seeing more?" She watched him swallow and nod nervously as she fiddled with the sash holding her robe together. Letting her robe gape open at the top she gave the boy a good view of her tits. "You know I've been a naughty girl while my husband has been away -- well... I seem to have gained an appetite for sex." "I saw the black guys follow you up last night -- I guessed the rest." "Can I trust you to keep that secret?" "Sure" he said, with sincerity. "Are you interested in this?" she asked, letting her robe fall open altogether to display her nakedness. The young barman nodded and looked flushed. "Why don't you lock the door and undress," she purred, "Then you can fuck me." The boy was still there hours later. Gemma could not get enough and was almost frustrated having now got used to ready replacements in the form of a plentiful supply of stiff cocks. Instead, while she waited for the lad to recover she used his hand and sat on his face making him work with his tongue. She bent low lifting her arse high in the air making it clear where she wanted his cock to enter her body. When her husband banged on the door the barman was just ready for leaving but the wife was undressed and unkempt wearing just the loose robe. "Why was it locked?" asked the husband, though the boy had already made a hasty retreat. Gemma was slow to give a reason and her face told its own story. "You've been fucking the barman!" Jim said. Gemma didn't see the point of denying it. There followed an hour's silence, then arguments and recriminations. "Now you stop being so bloody vocal about things being different for women!" Jim snapped angrily. "If this is going to lead to divorce then I'd better tell you about the black guy," Gemma said, almost flippantly. "Yeah, yeah!" interrupted Jim, "I tricked you. I set you up with that guy and he called me this morning. I wanted to see how far you'd go. He's already told me how easily you agreed to go back to his room and he admitted he was tempted to get in your knickers and said you seemed eager to get into his pants. Yeah, I know all about it -- you felt his cock while you kissed and let him feel your tits! And you were tricked about who he is -- he's no important Nigerian -- he's a West Indian guy I've known for years. Peter is a guy from work." Gemma sniggered in contempt, "Well he tricked you too, arsehole -- I've spent the night in his room. He didn't tell you that he fucked me!" "Yeah, right, sure!" Jim laughed. There followed a minute of head shaking from the husband who thought he had won the higher ground. "Now we are even!" stated Jim, "We came here on this break to sort things out. It turns out we have both been happy to have a sexy parties with others, in each other's presence -- and you too have been prepared to go behind my back when the chance presents itself. You are no better than I. So where does that leave us?" "Even when we get away, give ourselves space to try and sort out our marriage -- even then," sneered Gemma, "You have to be devious and play dirty. You took the trouble to invite some buddy of yours to come here and trap me into being unfaithful. You made up some cock-and-bull story about having to sort out some crisis, leaving me here alone to see if I'd be tempted." "Well, I was justified, as it turned out, you went back to his room and might have been prepared to let him fuck you if he'd been genuinely trying to seduce you." Jim said, wryly. "As it turned out you were reduced to seducing the young barman. I admit I didn't plan for that -- or expect it. Maybe you did it out of anger - feeling rejected when the supposed important Nigerian turned you down. Gemma opened her mouth to correct him but decided she was wasting her time; he would believe what he wanted to believe. "Okay, so where does it leave us then?" Gemma breezed, "But before you make one of your intelligent decisions let me just square things up properly -- for the record. Perhaps we aren't as even as you imagine. Do your marital sins include having a gang bang -- and anal sex?" Jim laughed, "Fantasist!" They spent the day walking along the coastal road, trading insults, as though they enjoyed the thrust and parry of argument. The sea air cleared their minds. At mid evening the barman looked up, surprised to see the couple, which he knew had been due to check out that day, stroll into the lounge. It was Gemma who approached the bar. "I expect this may have cost me my job," said the barman before glancing toward the woman's husband. "Does he know we had sex?" Gemma didn't answer him directly but looked at him in a serious way. "We are staying here for another night. He wants to watch." The End.