A Week at the Beach: A Hotwife Romance Read online

  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.

  "We're going for a cigarette. Please don't take away our plates!" I managed to shout.

  I glanced back, trying to see if he'd heard. It didn't matter. We were already out of the room, barrelling past the host at the front desk and heading for the stairs. Everything began to swirl inside my head.

  The memory of Bastian's large frame towering over my wife wouldn't leave my mind. It pressed me into one final effort. I yanked her into the hallway that led towards the bathrooms.

  "Andrew! Stop it! Let's go to the room!"

  "Samantha," I said, pressing close to her. She didn't resist, just shook her head and looked away. "I know this might take you by surprise but please don't let it scare you." I looked into her eyes. She didn't return the favour. "I want to see you with another man."

  She looked up. She looked so calm. That expression was the last thing I expected to see. She looked like I'd just told her I didn't want cream in my coffee any more in the mornings.

  Another woman rounded the corner into the hall where we were standing. She swayed past us, casting us a drunken smile before disappearing into the ladies room.

  "I want to see another man inside you. I want to see you take him. The way you take that black cock I bought."

  "Oh, is that all?" came her calm reply.

  Something gave me the impression that she wasn't exactly being sincere.

  "No, really, Samantha. I mean it..."

  "Alright, Andrew. If I agree to sleep with another man, will you come upstairs and go to bed?"

  Had she really said it? Or was it just some drunken hallucination?

  "Yes...yes of course..." I stammered, trying to discern from her expression if she'd really just said it.

  "Good. Follow me."

  I did as she asked. She led me by the hand and I stared at the roundness of her ass, hoping I'd get to see it naked before the evening was through. When we stepped inside the room, I kicked off my shoes. I watched her close the door, then followed her as she walked across the room.

  "I was hoping..." I said, trying to sound seductive.

  When she turned around, she was smiling. She was smiling! I'd done something right!

  "Were you now?" she purred, stepping towards me and running a finger down the front of my shirt. I could feel my head bobbing a bit, but obviously she didn't mind.

  "I was!"

  She pushed me gently with that same finger, sending me crashing onto the bed behind me.

  "You just wait right there, hot stuff. I'll be right out!"

  She winked.

  I was in. I was in!

  The room faded to black.

  Chapter 6

  The sound of ocean waves sweeping up onto the beach drifted in through the open window. I groaned and pulled the pillow off my head. I turned to find Samantha gone. The headache began.

  With a groan, I pushed myself to sitting. The salty smell of the ocean hit me, making me feel better. Bursts of memory

  Walking across the room, I opened the mini-fridge, bent down and reached inside. My fingers met with cool glass of a bottle of soda water. I pulled it out, cracked the cap and took a massive swig. Room charges be damned. It shook me to life as it fizzled down my throat.

  The door opened. It was her. My cock moved as I watched her step inside in her running tights. Her ass looked fucking glorious in them. She startled at the sight of me, surprised to see me up. I relaxed as soon as she smiled.

  "Hello lover," she cooed. After kicking off her shoes she swayed towards me through the room. "God that was hot last night!"

  I felt my brow furrow. Had I really been so drunk that I didn't remember having sex with her? I looked into her eyes. They were glowing with mischief.

  "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," I bluffed. Maybe in my stupor I'd done something right? "I wouldn't want to leave you unsatisfied," I added, trying to sound more confident.

  Her eyes went wide, like she didn't understand what I was talking about. "Oh, I didn't mean you. You passed out. Don't you remember?"

  A bolt of jealous adrenaline shot through me and I felt my jaw drop open. I looked over her face, searching for the tell. Where would the admission start, her eyes? Her lips? Obviously she was joking. Obviously my Samantha was just joking.

  Oh God, the memory of what I'd said the night before, outside the bathrooms, slammed into me like a speeding train. I looked at the floor, trying to remember exactly how I'd put it. There could be no doubt. I'd told her I wanted her to sleep with another man.

  "Excuse me!" she bubbled, tossing her headphones onto the bed, "I'm going to take a shower!" She pushed past me.

  I stood there, swaying a little from the alcohol, but mostly from the shock of what I'd just heard. Shaking myself out of the stupor, I turned around and pushed my way through the door and into the spacious bathroom.

  She was already in the shower. I watched rivulets of water trailing down her fair skin. Despite my grogginess, I wanted to reach inside and press my hands onto her thighs. I looked up. She was facing away from me but I knew she could see me from the corner of her eye. I knew she'd heard me come in.

  "Samantha?" I started.

  She turned and smiled. "Yes, dear?"

  Still there was nothing there. Nothing on her face that would let me discern if this was just a game. I didn't know what to say.

  "Samantha..." I began again. "About last night..."

  "Yes? What about it?" She wasn't budging. She wouldn't give me a single inch. I suppose I had been a bit of an ass. I suppose I deserved it. A little bit.

  I took a deep breath. "About what I said? About..."

  She turned the shower off and pulled the curtain open.

  For a moment I was dumbstruck. She was making no effort to cover her body. She was standing there, completely naked, water dripping from her body. Her nipples were pink and stiff. I wondered if her pussy was wet. She was toying with me. I started to get hard.

  "What you said about what?"

  "What I said about you with another man," I growled, unable to take my eyes off her curves.

  "Oh that! Yes? What about it?"

  Now I saw it. She was just having a bit of fun. Or was she?

  "Well? What about it?" I asked, turning the question back to her.

  She stepped out of the tub but didn't reach for a towel. Her body was driving me mad now. So close and wet and bare. I knew she could see my cock hardening. She didn't look down, though.

  "No, Andrew," she whispered, coming closer and walking two fingers up my chest. "No. You're the one that acted like an ass last night. You don't get off that easily. You tell me."

 
I looked down to see her fingers walking back down my chest. She stopped at my belt and held her hand there. When I looked at her eyes again, there was nothing there. Not a single clue.

  Of course I knew she was just playing with me. But it was the minuscule chance that she wasn't that made me stand completely stiff.

  "So? Did you do as I asked? Did you fuck another man?" I growled, putting a hand on her back and sliding it down to cup her ass.

  She straightened as I squeezed the soft flesh there. Her hand didn't move.

  "Is that really what you want, Andrew?" Her gaze was completely disarming. Was this really Samantha? My Samantha?

  "Would you do it? Would you do that for me?" I said, pressing closer to her and leaning down to kiss her neck. She wouldn't. I knew she wouldn't. She was just playing. She was just winding me up.

  "The question, Andrew Smith, is not would I?" she offered, finally letting the tips of her fingers slide past the elastic of my boxers. "The question is..." she whispered, leaning close, "...did I?"

  The sound of her saying it along with the warmth of her breath on my neck sent me into a frenzy. I picked her up and spun around, setting her on the counter beside the sink.

  She gasped as her ass pressed against the cold stone.

  Fumbling with the elastic at my waist, I freed my cock. Taking myself in hand, I pointed the glistening head towards the split in her soft folds. I groaned as my flesh touched her soaked slit.

  Her back arched, her perky breasts pressing towards my chest. I couldn't wait. Thrusting towards her, I let my shaft sink into her soft, molten core.

  As soon as I'd watched my cock disappear inside her, I turned my eyes up to look at her again. Her expression was the same. Innocence, feigned or genuine, made the whole thing hotter.

  She was bluffing, wasn't she? There was no way she'd do anything like that. She didn't even look at other men. Her eyes told me nothing.

  A thought gripped me. What if she had left the room last night? What if she'd gone downstairs? What if she'd run into Bastian?

  I could see her there, in the restaurant, apologizing for my behaviour. I could see his smile as he waved away her regret.

  I could see his black muscles, rippling on to of her as her legs fell open for his big, black cock.

  The image tore through me and I started to fuck.

  I felt her hips move towards me. Her feet brushed against the back of my leg as she brought up her thighs. I lunged, pushing myself deep inside her hot, silky pussy.

  The mirror on the wall began to shake slightly as I surged into the sticky wetness of her cunt. I looked up again. She was still staring at me with those innocent, blue eyes. Maybe she had done it? Maybe she'd gone out and met Bastian back at the restaurant? Maybe the two of them had had a drink, gone back to his place? Maybe he'd taken her the way I was now. Maybe he'd pushed his thick, black cock inside her as she wailed...

  She reached an arm up and around my neck. As I rutted into her, she hung from me loosely, just letting me fuck her like that. I'd never been so turned on. I felt my climax well.

  "Fuuuuck!" I growled, grimacing. I felt the cum pulse through my shaft, felt it start to spurt inside her. I looked up to find one corner of her mouth curled into a smile. With another groan I unleashed all of what I had inside her, not caring that the mirror might fall off the wall. As my orgasm took me, I let the image fill my mind again.

  There was my Samantha. Filled by another man's cock.

  As the last of my thrusts abated, I leaned over her and steadied myself against the counter. I was still inside her, panting and exhausted. She trailed her fingers along the back of my neck making me shiver. When I finally pulled myself out and stood, she just sat there, staring at me with her mouth in half a grin.

  "Better?" she asked.

  Better? My eyes ran down her body, past her stomach and in between her legs. Cum was spilling from her pussy, pooling on the counter between her legs. I throbbed.

  I didn't know what to say. I just shook my head in disbelief and chortled. My wife, it seemed, wanted to play a game.

  Chapter 7

  I insisted on breakfast indoors. My head had stopped pounding. Despite that, I still wore sunglasses, against the glare of the sun reflecting off the sand outside. We found the darkest corner of the breakfast room and ordered a full breakfast. I ordered a Bloody Mary and recoiled in mock horror as Sam did too.

  She laughed. It seemed like she'd forgiven me for the night before. I thought it probably wouldn't hurt to apologize in earnest.

  "Look, I'm sorry about last night," I said after I'd taken a gulp of red medicine from the tall, frosted glass the waiter brought us.

  "Sorry about what?" she asked, smiling.

  "I think you know? How drunk I was? I probably snored. Did I snore?" Something was tickling me on the inside though. As hot as it had been imagining her with another man, I needed to know the truth about the night before.

  "Oh. I didn't notice." She shrugged and looked out the window, towards the gentle crests.

  The tickle turned into an itch. I tried to steady my nerves. No sense being paranoid. Even if something about the ocean air had changed her, there was no way she would have taken things that far. She didn't budge as I looked at her. Just kept staring out over the ocean.

  "Alright. You win," I said finally, sighing my resignation.

  She met my eyes with the same Innocent look she'd had in the bathroom. "I do? What's my prize?"

  A tremor of irritation moved through me. I smiled it away and shook my head. I was not going to let her get the better of me. "Your prize is me asking. Where did you go last night? After I passed out?"

  She sat there, smiling. As if she were relishing her victory.

  "I'm. Not. Telling."

  Her words wiped my own smile away. An anxiousness bubbled somewhere inside me, making me shift in my seat. I quieted it. She was right. I deserved this.

  "Samantha, I said I was sorry."

  "You said lots of other things, too. Remember?"

  Of course I remembered. What I didn't remember was having such a devious wife. I breathed, took another sip of my drink and pasted my smile back on.

  "Alright. You've had your fun. Now really. Did you go out last night? After I fell asleep?"

  She put her drink down and leaned on the table. "Andrew, do you remember how drunk you were last night? Do you remember the restaurant? The commotion you caused?"

  "Yes," I snapped, "and I said I was sorry..."

  "And I accept your apology. You can consider this, your penance. I'm not telling."

  Another uncomfortable shudder raced through me at her lack of admission as to what she'd done. I might have deserved it, but that didn't make it easy to endure.

  She leaned back in her chair and stared out over the ocean again.

  My mind raced. Visions of my petite wife wrapped in a large man's arms pulsed inside my head. I tried to push it all away. It was just a game, after all. I was the one who'd started it, really. By the end of breakfast I was no closer to finding any peace. My mind was a muddled mess and the drink I'd poured on top of it wasn't helping. Thin tendrils of jealousy started to crawl up my spine.

  "Okay, look, can we talk about this?" I asked, trying not to sound impatient.

  "Talk about what?"

  Was she pretending not to know what I was talking about? Was this just another game?

  "Samantha, please!"

  "You're not going to make another scene, are you?" she said calmly.

  Where was she getting all this confidence from all of a sudden? I'd been drunk around her before. Not that drunk, but it had never changed her in the slightest.

  Her eyes softened. "Why don't we talk about it later?" she offered.

  I took another breath. She was right. We could talk about it in the room.

  "Samantha!"

  Bastian's deep voice from behind me made me startle and I almost knocked my glass over. As I turned, I caught the faint glimmer of a smile forming o
n Samantha's lips.

  "Bastian!" I said, bounding up and taking off my sunglasses.

  I saw the chuckle shaking in his chest before I heard it. He held out a hand.

  "Andrew. Good to see you. Feeling okay?"

  I looked back at Samantha. She was watching the two of us as we talked. "Bit better, thank-you. Look, I have to apologize. About last night. I...I'm not sure what got into me. Well, it was a whole lot of alcohol to be precise, but..."

  He waved it all away with one hand. "Don't worry about it for another moment. I only felt badly for your wife."

  That unpleasant ripple travelled through me again. Who was he to start feeling bad about my wife?

  "Oh? Why's that?" I bristled.

  He paused. Just for a moment. "Just making chit-chat, Mr. Smith. Just making chit-chat. You folks have a great day in the sun!" He shot us both a wide smile before walking back towards the kitchen.

  I turned and looked at Samantha. Her arms were folded over her chest and she had one eyebrow raised. Maybe because her husband was being a complete ass?

  ***

  I had to look away from the bathroom door. She was getting changed and I kept catching glimpses of her in the mirror. A nipple. A wisp of the down between her legs. It was turning me on and the last thing I needed mixed in with everything sloshing around in my head, was arousal.

  When she came out wearing her blue bikini, I stood and walked towards the balcony door. I took a few deep breaths, hoping the salt in the air would steady my nerves.

  "Aren't you going to get changed?"

  I spun around at the question. I was almost shaking. As certain as I was that nothing had happened the night before, her refusal to answer was clawing at me. I needed to know the truth.

  "Samantha," I said, stepping towards her, "can we please talk about what happened last night?"

  She set down her beach bag and took off her sunglasses.

  "Okay," she replied. She walked over to the bed and sat down. "Let's talk."

  I felt a swell of relief. Now I was getting somewhere. "Okay," I said, sitting down next to her and putting a hand on her back. "I'm sorry I got so blind drunk. You didn't deserve that."