A Week at the Beach: A Hotwife Romance Read online

  "You called Mark?" she asked, confused.

  That may have been a small mistake on my part. "I did. I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I do things like that but I had to know it would be alright before I booked the tickets."

  The office where Samantha worked as a paralegal, was owned in part by my good friend Mark Owen. He hadn't given her the job for that reason, but I did put in a strong reference letter and phone call before her interview. It annoyed her to no end that our friendship may have had something do with her getting hired.

  "You said you wouldn't do things like that," she said, turning her eyes down. I could tell she was a little hurt.

  "Samantha, I won't do it again. It was just this once. I've not done anything like this yet, have I?"

  She looked back up and there was a glimmer of forgiveness in her eyes. She shook her head.

  "Think of it," I said, staring deeply into her eyes. "Sand. Sun. Cocktails in the afternoon. Hell, cocktails in the morning if we want!"

  Her eyes lit up for a brief second, but she tamped down whatever enthusiasm had welled. "I'm not supposed to. You know that."

  She seemed to be scolding me, the way she said it. I put both hands on her arms and looked at her squarely.

  "And that. This whole thing, this trying for a baby. Let's put it out of our minds. Let's forget about it for a week and just do what we please. If you want, you can take your diaphragm along. Or not. It's up to you. I just want us to stop worrying about it for a while."

  The tension eased in her shoulders. It seemed I'd said something right. Wriggling free of my grasp, she slapped me lightly on the arm. I could tell there was a more of a smile somewhere on her lips, I just hadn't found it yet.

  "What about the house?" she asked. I could tell she was relaxing, if only a little.

  "Noel said he'd check in on it every few days. No trouble."

  "What about your work?!?" she asked, waving her hand at me. She needed to find something to worry about, didn't she?

  "Oh I've been fired." It had been my best deadpan. Her eyes only widened for a second before her mouth cracked into a wry grin.

  "Stop it Andrew!" She smacked me again, harder this time. I caught her arm as she was pulling it away. I yanked her towards me, harder than she expected. The look of shock on her face made me harden some more. It melted into a smile quickly but I could tell it had given her a jolt.

  "My beautiful Samantha," I whispered, nuzzling into her neck. "I'll bring our new friend."

  Something happened to her body as I said it. The tension in it shifted. "Would you like that? Would you like it if I brought it with us?"

  "Oh Andrew stop it!" she said, trying to wriggle free. I wouldn't let her. I stared at her as she tried to look away.

  "Samantha, you naughty thing. I think you're turned on by it right now!" It was a thrill just saying it. I never said this kind of thing to her. She offended easily. I didn't care. I was determined to make her relax. To make us relax.

  "Nonsense!" she said, making another show of trying to pull away.

  "Are you sure? Are you sure you're not remembering what it looked like, watching that big black dildo disappearing inside your body?"

  "Andrew don't be so crass!" she hissed, "I'll never have children with you if you keep talking like that!"

  It was all an act, I could tell. It was the good little girl she thought herself to be, telling her that proper ladies never thought of such things.

  In an act of marital daring, one I'd never thought I would attempt, I grabbed the hem of her skirt and yanked it up. My hand was pressed to the cotton of her underwear before she knew what was happening. They were soaked through.

  She let out a whimper at the feeling of my fingers on her flesh, but she didn't protest. Our eyes locked. I felt her legs spread slightly.

  Sweeping her up and off the floor, I climbed the stairs to the bedroom, with her staring at me the whole time.

  Putting her on the bed, I hiked up the dress she was wearing again and pulled her white panties to one side. The patch of soft hair above her pussy was soaked now, too. I looked up to see her blushing, but she didn't resist my affection.

  I turned my attention back to the swollen labia that guarded her entrance. Prying them apart with my fingers, I felt myself stiffen as I laid eyes on her sweet, pink opening.

  With a quick hand I reached over and pulled our new friend out of the drawer. Her eyes shot towards it, watching me bring it down between her legs. I'd never, never seen her like this. This was as far-fetched a reaction as I could have imagined when I'd ordered the thing. She seemed to love it.

  I touched the head of it to her pussy, ran it up and down her slit letting it collect the juices there. She gasped and her eyes widened as she watched it moving in between her alabaster thighs. My cock flexed completely in my trousers and I wished I'd had the presence of mind to take them off, or at least loosen my belt before I'd started. Resigning myself to what I'd have to endure, I focused on Samantha again.

  She was looking between me and the thing again, her eyes hungry with desire. Every time I saw her I couldn't believe it, how she was taking to this. Pulling her sopping lips to one side with my fingers, I pushed the black dildo into her hole. Just the tip.

  "Andrew..." she whispered, breathless. My cock pulsed in my pants at the way her voice sounded, at the way her face looked. In our five years of marriage I don't know if I'd ever seen her look that way at the prospect of sex. We'd mostly done it in the dark.

  "Tell me what you want, Samantha? Tell me what you want me to do?" I whispered.

  The question seemed to shake her out of her excitement. She blushed and shyed away, turning her head towards the pillow.

  "Come on sweetie, I want to hear it. Please?" I begged, adding an air of desperation to my request. I really wanted to hear it. I really wanted to hear her say what she wanted me to do with the dildo.

  "Andrew, I can't!" Her voice was pained, like it actually hurt her just thinking about it.

  "Sweetie, look at me. Please?" I whispered, moving up closer towards her, my hand still pressing the thing between her legs. She looked over and I saw her face burning a bright red. "It's for me. It's not for you. Remember on Valentine's? When you asked me what I wanted and I couldn't tell you? Remember that?"

  She nodded a gentle yes.

  "This is what I want. This is what I want from you. I want to hear you tell me what you want me to do with this cock."

  Her eyes shifted one way, then the other. I could tell she was thinking about it. I could tell she was rolling it around in her mind, weighing whether it was a good enough justification for her to betray her modesty. She closed her eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "I want you to put it inside me." Her thighs parted again, inviting me in.

  I flexed. God, that made me hot. I pushed another inch of the dildo inside her. She mewled quietly and her legs spread as her body adjusted to the size of the it. It was probably twice as thick as I was. Samantha had never been with anyone but me.

  "That's a good girl. Do you like that? Does that feel good?" I asked, desperate to hear her voice beg me to put it in deeper. She only nodded. "Come on now," I pleaded, "just tell me one more time. Tell me where you want me to put it." I nudged the it in slightly deeper making her squirm. She tried to work her body down onto it, as if she were craving its thickness now.

  She opened her eyes, looked down. They went wide, like she couldn't believe she was taking all of it inside herself. When she looked at me again, she had that same, wild look she'd had the night before. "I want it Andrew. I want it in my pussy!" she breathed.

  She looked down again and this time her hands drifted down between her legs. She started pushing at the base of the thing! She couldn't wait to get more of it inside her!

  I thought my pants might tear from how hard I was.

  Obliging her, I pushed another inch in, watching her thighs part even further as her pussy stretched again. She was dripping now. I could see the
glint of her juices around the thing, coating it, easing its entry and dripping down onto the sheets.

  Her fingers pressed at mine as her body begged to feel more of the big black thing deep inside her. She was glancing at me in between long stares at the thing. She looked like an animal, trapped and caged and not knowing what would happen next.

  As I pressed it into her fully, she opened, her legs spreading wide to either side. She took it all.

  I started pumping it into her this time, not slowly the way I'd done the night before. Her thighs started moving up and down and around, in time with my rough thrusts.

  It felt like if I had to stare at this much longer I was going to release without even taking myself out. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen, my wife splayed and stuffed by a giant black monster.

  "Andrew! Andrew! Andrew!" she spoke my name. Three bursts of breath that betrayed her excitement. She was fixated on it now, staring at it moving in and out of the tight pink flesh of her pussy. I watched as her legs began to shake. I saw her pussy start to clench. God how I wanted to tear my pants off, pull the thing out of her and sink myself deep into that stretched cunt. I needed to help her find her pleasure first.

  Her hand gripped my arm, her other fist tightening around the bed covers. She screamed and I watched her body buck towards the dildo as each pulse of her orgasm exploded inside her. I could barely believe my eyes. I'd never seen her doing anything like it before.

  She turned her eyes away and frowned. Then she scowled. When she looked back at me, it didn't look good.

  "Samantha. You look as if I've just told you I want a divorce. I want to take you on a vacation. You do understand the difference, don't you?"

  When it started to ebb, she looked away from the thing and up at me. "Andrew! I want to...make you happy too..." she said, panting. Her voice was shy.

  I started to pull the thing from her but she clutched my arm.

  "No," she whispered. "Leave it there."

  My eyes went wide in disbelief as she pulled me up and towards her face. She'd done this three times, gone down on me. Twice for birthdays and once when she'd had too much wine. I don't think she remembered the third. I couldn't believe what was happening as she tore at my belt buckle and pulled at my zipper.

  My cock sprang out and surprised her. It was about half the size of the black dildo. I looked down her body. Her dress had fallen slightly, but I could still see the giant thing stuffed inside her, black against her skin.

  When she pulled me close I had to stop my fall with a hand on the bed frame. I groaned as she took me in her mouth.

  I felt her tongue sliding around the head of my cock as she explored me. The heat that had made her come was lingering inside her cheeks, surrounding me. She moved slowly, watching me for my reaction as I watched the dildo, still inside her, swaying gently as she moved.

  I felt the precum trickle out. I wondered if she'd think it was gross. I didn't care. I couldn't tear my eyes off the black dildo that wiggled slightly with the waning pulses of her pleasure.

  "Oh Sam!" I groaned, unable to keep my hips from thrusting at her. I heard her gurgle, then choke slightly. I pulled out, terrified I'd hurt her. "Are you alright?"

  Her eyes were on my cock and her hand was pulling me towards her again. I shook my head with disbelief, but didn't resist. With another moan, I pushed myself inside her hot, wet mouth.

  I felt cum pooling at the base of my shaft. It was indescribably hot, what was happening.

  A thought flashed through my mind. An image I'd only thought of in the darkest parts of night, while she slept beside me. It was a fantasy I'd harboured since we'd met. Of course I'd never told her.

  As I closed my eyes, I saw the body of a black man, pressing in between her thighs. It shook me to my core.

  "Oh fuck, I'm coming!" I breathed, my voice tight with pleasure. I pulled out as the first spurt of white seed pulsed from my cock. I looked down to see it lash across her cheek. I let out another groan.

  She tugged at me, hungry. I let her take me in her mouth. Right before she did, another throb sent cum splattering across her cheeks. She looked up at me and started to suck.

  "Oh fuck..." I rumbled as the feeling of her coaxing cum from me rippled through my body. I pressed into her, felt the back of her throat.

  Still, she kept sucking me. I looked down. Her eyes were desperate. I looked between her legs. That thick dark cock was still pushed into her. When I looked back at her, I felt her hand between my legs. Then her fingers on my balls.

  "Fuuuck!" I cried as the last of what I had was milked from me by her gentle fingers. I just lay there, watching her caress my sack, making my cock bounce with what little I had left to give.

  I almost fell as I tried to get off the bed with my pants around my ankles. I staggered back and fell into the chair in the corner. I sat there, panting.

  She was staring at me, one cheeks covered with my seed. As I watched her in quiet disbelief she opened her mouth. A trickle of my white cum dribbled from her lips, onto the crumpled bed covers. She closed her lips.

  In an unwitting act of erotic artistry, she swallowed, then opened her mouth to show me.

  My cock bounced in my lap again.

  She giggled.

  It was going to be a good vacation.

  Chapter 3

  The airport was crowded and noisy. Construction on the new terminal was six months late and the old one seemed to be bursting at the seams with people.

  I saw her start to panic the moment we were pulled aside for secondary bag inspection. She looked at me with those big, fearful eyes.

  To be honest, it was difficult not to laugh. As soon as they'd waved us aside, I knew what was in store. No matter how well I'd tried to hide that dildo, it was going to be found. Right in front of us, it was going to be found and examined. I couldn't have hoped for who would find it though. That part was just dumb luck.

  "Anything to declare?" the security officer asked. He was a big black man in a crisp, white shirt. He ran his blue gloved hands around the suitcase, searching for the zipper.

  I shook my head, trying to hide my excitement at what was about to happen. I felt Samantha squeeze my hand in desperation. I squeezed back. He must have noticed.

  He glanced, first at me, then back at her. I watched his eyes. I got what I wanted. It was an instant, no more. If I hadn't been watching closely, I would have missed it. But I'd been watching men closely around my wife for as long as we'd been married. Just to see that reaction.

  His eyes ran up and down her body, pausing at the pert shelf of her breasts. They followed the line of her waist weaving into the dip her hips made. They stopped at the roundness of her ass, perfectly displayed by the tights she was wearing. She always chose to fly in comfort rather than style. I didn't mind, even if some of the other business class snobs did. It only took a glance at her perfectly proportioned body for the men to stop caring. The women were the one's who seemed to mind the most.

  He looked at me right after he'd finished checking her out. Now he was checking me out. To see if I'd seen.

  I smiled back at him. He lowered his eyes and went to work.

  I watched his hands shuffling through our clothes, pulling out underwear and shirts and bikinis, searching for contraband. Excitement gripped me as I watched him moving closer to the implement. I couldn't help but glance between his legs, wondering if his girth were a match for the one in my suitcase.

  Samantha squeezed my hand so hard I thought it might cut off my circulation.

  Suddenly his expression changed to interest. I saw the exact moment his fingers touch the tender hardness. He raised an eyebrow.

  He probably got quite a thrill. I'm sure he thought he'd found something of note, something illicit, or something criminal.

  I saw him glance at one of the guards standing to the side. He stepped forward. He was a tall man, also dressed in a crisp white shirt and a navy blue cap with an insignia on it.

  I looked over at Sa
mantha. It looked like she was going to pee herself. She'd put the dildo in the suitcase herself. I'd even thought of telling her I could put it in mine. Mischief got the better of me. I was glad it had. This was much more fun.

  The blue-gloved hand pulled at the thing, moving it out from beneath the pile of messy clothes. The harsh fluorescent lights made the veins on it stand out even more.

  Our dark inspector stopped as soon as he realized what it was. I looked at him, watching his face. Samantha had turned her eyes down towards the floor. I knew her cheeks were burning. There might be hell to pay for this later. Maybe.

  He looked at her again, then at me. I shrugged. The corner of his mouth curled into the shadow of a smirk. He looked at her again, letting his eyes linger on all her softest parts a little longer this time.

  Oh God, what a thrill that was. Just imagining what he was thinking. He was a big brute of a man, well-muscled too. I couldn't stop the image as it formed in my mind. His big, hulking, black body moving in between Samantha's soft, flawlessly white thighs.

  I conjured up an image of her face. What would her expression be? Would she be terrified? Or would she react the same way she had to the dildo, as soon as she saw his cock? Would she spread her legs wide and let him in.

  It sent a shudder through me and despite my best efforts, I felt my cock twitch. I wondered if he'd seen it.

  Moving slowly, he put the dildo back into the suitcase. He didn't bury it under the pile of clothes, though. He set it right on top. I watched his eyes. He was watching Samantha.

  "Whose bag is this?" he asked calmly, as if he understood my game.

  "It belongs to my wife," I answered, a little too quickly.

  He nodded, again, as if he understood. "Ma'am. Could I get you to go ahead and close this up, please?" he asked, pushing the suitcase towards her on the table.

  "Yes, of course," Samantha whispered.

  My cock jumped again at the way she moved. She stepped forward slowly, like she was trying to keep her legs close together. I'd seen her walk like that before. She did it when she was embarrassed of the wetness in between her thighs.