A Week at the Beach: A Hotwife Romance (4 page)

"Could we save that for later?" I asked, trying to be gentle.

She turned her lips down in a flirty little pout. "But we brought it all this way..." she said, each word she spoke lustier than the last

For God's sake, what was I thinking?!? Here she was begging for what I'd wanted and I was trying to dissuade her now. I could be such an idiot sometimes.

"Why don't you lie down? I'll go and get it." I bounced across the room and fumbled with her suitcase. I opened it and most of the clothes inside tumbled to the floor. I caught the dildo before it fell out, too. When I turned around, she was already naked on the bed.

My eyes widened in disbelief. Not that I was upset, no. It's just that, this was quite unusual for my Samantha. Unusual behaviour.

I pushed the thought from my mind. My cock had already stiffened and was pressing against my pants. Eager for relief from the sensation, I undid my belt and let my pants fall to the floor. The belt buckle clattered loudly on the tile. I tore off the rest of my clothes and walked towards the bed.

I watched her. She watched the black shaft in my hand the whole time. A part of me had trouble getting used to it, but a part of me thought it was hot as hell. Whatever had happened to Samantha?

Now was not the time to start complaining about it.

Crawling onto the bed, I put the dildo beside her and let my hand settle on her already stiff nipple. My cock already had started to swell at the sight of her supple body.

"Oh Samantha, honey, you're so beautiful," I whispered.

She didn't respond. She let me cup her breast, she even let me kiss her nipple. The stiffness of the flesh in my mouth made me throb. When I pulled away, she'd already picked up the dildo and was pressing it between her legs.

"Please Andrew? Can you?" she begged.

Well, good on me, I suppose. I'd done something very right. I couldn't help but wonder, though, at the sudden change in her behaviour.

It didn't matter just then. There would be plenty of time for thinking later. I took the dildo from her and watched in fascination as she eagerly spread her legs wide open. Pressing it up to her pussy, I watched her.

She stared, wide-eyed as the head of the black dildo pressed against her swollen, pink lips.

"Will you say it again? Will you tell me..." I began to ask.

She did it right away this time.

"Please Andrew, put it in my pussy! Put that big, black cock in my pussy!" Her pleading was terrifying and beautiful. I didn't move it in gently this time. I spread her lips apart, barely checking if she was wet enough. The sweet smell of her juices told me she was.

I pushed the thing towards her and it slipped in. Her wetness let it glide in easier than I'd thought it would. A sticky sound filled the room as she welcomed the dildo into her body.

"Oh Andrew!" she cooed as her hands drifted down and settled on the insides of her thighs. As soon as I'd pushed it in completely, stuffing the thickness of it until the fake balls kissed her ass again, she let her fingers trail along the flesh of her thighs and her body shuddered. "Fuck me Andrew. Fuck me with it!"

I was a little shocked at the profanity. Samantha swearing was a once a year thing, like Christmas. It was odd for her to use two years worth of vulgarity in one utterance.

I looked down at the black shaft myself. There was something so erotic about seeing that thick, black shaft, wedged into the tight cleft of her cunt, pressing against her insides. I could barely contain my excitement.

I started to fuck her with it, the same way I'd done before. A thought struck me. She seemed to be in some kind of filthy state of mind already. Maybe it was the sun. Maybe it was the big black dildo I'd brought into our love life. Whatever it was, I started feeling adventurous myself.

With the dildo still wedged inside her, I put a gentle pressure on her to roll over. She looked at me, not sure of what I wanted at first, but soon her body gave way. I watched the dildo bounce as she rolled over onto her stomach. My cock twitched at the sight of it inside her.

I pulled at her hips so they came up off the bed. She was glancing back to see what I was doing, her eyes filled with excitement, or fear, or both. She didn't resist it, though, like she normally would have. She went with it.

I knelt beside her and took in the sight of her tight, puckered, rear hole. My cock throbbed. This, I'd
never
seen before. Visions of stuffing myself inside her this way raced through my head making my blood boil. I wanted desperately to be fucking her right then.

"Please Andrew! Please fuck me! Fuck me with it!" Her voice was a desperate whisper.

I did it right away. Holding her by the ass with one hand I started thrusting the thing inside her. I was stiff as an iron rod just staring at it, entering her like that. It was the perfect contrast to her creamy white thighs and the pink of her cunt.

She started backing onto it. She rose on all fours and started pressing herself back towards my hand. "Ah!" she cried as the thing stuffed deep inside her. I paused, worried I'd hurt her. "No! Don't stop!" she cried, looking back, her eyes wild with desire.

I started pumping again immediately.

"Yes!" she moaned, ramming herself against my hand. Fuck, how I longed to sink into her dark rear hole. Fuck, how I needed to be inside her just then. Unable to resist the urge of my own flesh, I took a hand from her ass and started stroking myself.

I worried for a moment that this might set her back, back into my shy, demure, Samantha. We'd never even talked about masturbation, like it was the ultimate taboo. But when she glanced back it seemed not to bother her at all.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of me touching myself. Her mouth dropped open giving me a vision of what she'd looked like right before she swallowed up my cum. It shook me to the core. The whole time I tried concentrating as hard as I could on pumping that black cock into her. It was hard, keeping up two rhythms at once. I should have stayed in music lessons.

"Fuck Andrew, I'm going to come!" my sweet little thing confessed. She sounded desperate. The shock of another profanity together with the admission of a looming orgasm sent a blast of hot excitement racing through me. My Samantha just didn't talk like that! I decided to push a little more.

"Come on baby, come for me! Let me see you come!" I urged, watching her perfect curves shape into pleasure. Her mouth opened in a silent moan.

"Oh right there..." she groaned, pounding her body against the dark dildo. I looked back on it again. The image of it buried inside her would always be etched in my mind.

With a moan, her sweating, twisted body succumbed to a climax.

I wanted to press myself inside her. I wanted to pull the dark plug from her cunt and stuff my own organ in there instead. But she was just enjoying it so much. I couldn't resist.

My sack tightened and I watched the first rope of cum splay across her ass. "Ungh...fuck!" I grunted as my own orgasm took me. Streak after streak of my hot cum erupted onto the bulbous curves of her ass cheeks. I looked down, trying my best to keep the momentum of my thrusts going through my own climax.

"Oh yes..." she purred and our eyes met. She watched me unleash the rest of myself onto her ass until I could take no more and slumped over her in a heap.

We stayed like that for a while. Once I'd caught my breath, I looked up to see my own sticky seed trickling down towards her thigh. It made me shudder. The dark cock was still inside her.

I pulled it out slowly and she moaned as I did. As if her inside missed being so full. I leaned down and fell onto the bed beside her.

"Samantha Smith," I said, my voice a little hoarse from the exertion. "What's happened to you?"

She giggled and tried to hide her face in the pillow. Something was definitely different about my Samantha.

Chapter 5

I'd already tied quite a tidy buzz on by the time we got down to dinner. By the time we were half done the entree, the room had started spinning a bit.

"Good evening! I'm Bastian Jones, your chef this evening. How is everything?"

I looked up to see the handsome form of a young, very well built black man hovering over our table. He was looking at my wife.

"Oh...thank-you!" she said, putting a finger to her lip and swallowing the bite of spicy jerk chicken she'd just taken. "Everything's delicious!" Her cheeks turned a pleasant rosy red.

I could tell he was having a hard time taking his eyes off her. I didn't blame him.

Samantha had packed some dresses even I'd never seen before we left, unbeknownst to me. When she'd come out of the bathroom dressed in the little red number she was now wearing, I just stood staring at her, mouth agape. The top of it pushed her breasts together and it flared out at her hips, her thighs spilling elegantly out the bottom. It hugged her petite, full curves. She looked like a goddess.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed finally, clapping his large black hands together and tearing his gaze away to look at me. "And you, sir?"

"Andrew Smith. Pleasure to meet you, Bastian." I rose, swayed a tiny bit but managed not to fall. I shook his hand. It was a firm shake. What I expected from a man his size. "Everything is superb," I complimented. "They're lucky to have you here. Where did they find you?" I asked. I sat back down and felt my face flush as I realized what an ass I'd just been. The man wasn't there for banter. He was there for business.

He chuckled, a low, rolling laugh. "Thank-you, sir. You're very kind.
I
found them, in a way. I have the privilege of owning a small share in the place. It was part of the deal."

"You didn't learn to cook like this here though, did you?" I realized too late what a snob I'd sounded like. "I didn't mean..."

I saw Samantha shooting daggers at me from across the table with her eyes. I reached for my water and took a gulp.

He just chuckled again and waved my discomfort away. "You're too kind. I did study at Adge for some time. I came back to the island because this is my home." He smiled. An honest smile.

"Fascinating," I replied. I steadied myself with a hand on the table and glanced at Samantha again. She was shaking her head, her blonde tresses bobbing on either side of it.

I looked at Bastian again as he began talking to Samantha. He was a well-built man, obviously well educated and well spoken. He was exactly the kind of man I imagined her with. Exactly the kind of man I could see myself watching, as he pressed between her legs.

Suddenly, my fantasy welled within me.

The thought sent a thrill through me that made my cock jump.

"Would you join us for a while?" I blurted. I realized too late that I'd interrupted him mid-sentence.

Samantha skewered me with a glare.

"That is very gracious, but I must see to the other guests. I am glad you are enjoying the meal. Please accept a digestif with my compliments," he said, smiling politely.

I knew I'd fucked it all up. I was drunk, but not so drunk I couldn't salvage the situation. I knew that if my fantasy was to be realized,
this
was the man I wanted it realized with.

After another gulp of wine, I felt very brave. "I'll trade that in for a shared meal sometime? We're here for a week?"

His expression changed. Almost as if the suggestion had flustered him.

"Andrew, the man's obviously busy," Samantha interrupted, trying to save me from myself.

"Thank-you, very much, for the invitation," Bastian replied, "I wouldn't want to impose..."

Something inside me twisted a little. The way he was standing over her. His mass was so imposing. It made my cock stiffen even more. I needed this.

"I insist," I ordered. For added emphasis, I pounded the table with a fist. Just a bit louder than I'd intended.

The conversation around us dulled as people turned to stare at the commotion. Samantha tried to hid behind her hand.

Bastian just laughed. "You do make a very strong case. Let me see to the other guests. I'll be back before your dinner is over."

"Wonderful," I said with a slight slur, picking up my fork and knife. "You have a great talent."

I watched him. I watched him the way I'd watched the security officer at the airport. I got what I wanted. He turned to her and I watched his eyes rake over her, up and down her petite frame, as if her were memorizing her curves for later. If I had my way, he wouldn't need the memory. He would have my wife.

"You, are a disaster." Her hands were folded across her chest. This was not a good sign.

"Samantha." I put my utensils down and leaned across the table, trying not to sway. She just shook her head. "Do you trust me?" I asked, staring her straight in the eye.

"Andrew Smith. You are drunk. We are getting up and leaving this table right now. I will not have you humiliate me any more!

But I was fearless. The drink had made me one with the universe. I knew she would come around, she just needed things explained correctly. I took a deep breath. "Samantha, I've got a confession to make."

I watched her lean back in her chair. It was a little hard to tell through the mist of red wine clouding my vision, whether she was interested or irritated. There was only one way to find out.

"I don't want this to put you off, or to scare you," I began, turning my eyes towards my plate. Gathering my courage, I looked up at her again. "You know what we've been doing?" I asked, then, lowering my voice, added, "With the toy?"

"Alright. That's enough."

Why was she getting up?

"Do you have to use the restroom?" I asked. I felt my wrist brush against something. She reached out to try and catch the glass I'd knocked. She missed it. It smashed noisily onto the dark tile floor sending glass and water spraying in all directions.

She was probably right. I might have been a bit drunk.

A waiter hovered over us.

"Sorry..." I offered, trying to stand. I nearly fell out of my chair.

"Please, sir. It's alright." He fended me off from trying to help.

I felt Samantha grab my arm, heard her calling out our room number, then felt myself being dragged through the dining room. The tables and other guests were a blur. I felt the need to explain.