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A few years ago my wife and I were at a cross roads in our marriage. We had married young and were virtually the only lovers either of us had known. Shirley is a good church going woman who doesn’t believe in divorce yet she had grown increasingly restless within our marital bond. The crunch came when she found out that I had slept with the wife of one of our friends. There was tears and acrimony and threats of leaving before her more rationale side took over. She admitted in one of her rages that she also had been tempted but had never done anything about it.
Now, in her calm state, we talked about what she would like to do. In short she wanted a fling, some freedom to sow her own wild oats without jeopardizing our marriage. I was in no position to deny her, so I agreed. The decision coincided with a vacation trip to the Costa del Sol. We had arranged through a friend of my boss to rent a small house overlooking the ocean in a secluded part of the town.
The landlord met us upon our arrival and showed us around. He was a handsome man in his late forties and spoke with the charm and grace of a bygone era. My wife was especially taken by him, and the air was electric between them.
On the second day there, Rail dropped by with a bottle of wine and an invitation for me to join him for some deep sea fishing on his friend’s charter boat. Shirley doesn’t care for boats so she begged off but encouraged me to join the men for a day of relaxation.
As the gear was being loaded on the boat and Raoul and our host chattered back and forth in Spanish I began to feel a bit awkward. Although I didn’t understand a word of what was being said, it seemed by their nods and glances that I was a large part of their discussion. Then, just as the lines were cast off and the boat edged away from the dock, Raoul got an emergency phone call and stepped back ashore full of apologies and insisting that I go anyway and enjoy a day on the water.
A pang of doubt rippled through my belly as I watched him waving from the wharf. I knew in my heart that he had a boat ride of his own planned, and my wife was the vessel. That would make me the biggest fish of the day.
Five hours later I arrived back at the house, tired and sunburned. The empty wine bottle was on the coffee table. Shirley was resting on a lounge on the enclosed patio, a half-filled glass nearby. There was no need to guess what had happened. The look on my wife’s face told it all. Raoul had been with her since the boat pulled out. With the license of my infidelity giving her cause and fortified by the wine. she was more than happy – even anxious – to tell me all about what they had done. Before she had finished I had more information than I wanted beylikdüzü escort about the size of Raoul’s cock and the marvels of his tongue. She described her many orgasms and how good it felt to have unfamiliar fingers play with her openings and a stranger’s head between her legs.
Afterwards, he’d led her naked onto the patio to swim nude in the pool. They’d fucked in the water and again on the sun drenched deck. He’d woven flowers into her pubic hair, and rubbed crushed petals into the saturated folds below. She was saturated again just from telling the story. What surprised me the most was her admission that she’d sucked him off. Not one to really enjoy giving head, she’d never let me come in her mouth. Raoul, it seems, had had that pleasure the very first time they were alone.
My conservative wife had discovered the thrill of infidelity. She discovered the pure hedonism of fucking with no strings attached. The rest of her story that night became a re-enactment of what she had done with Raoul. All except the blowjob. She still wouldn’t let me come in her mouth. ‘I’m saving that for other men,’ she smiled bewitchingly. I realized then that I wanted her more than I ever had in my life. What had once been mine exclusively, I was now having to share.
For the rest of the holiday I spent afternoons in the plaza or walking along the beach while Raoul used my wife like a concubine. Nights I listened to her relate what they had done, working herself into a fever on the memories. I was jealous but fascinated by the stories. The descriptions of how she sucked him off drove me wild.
On the last day before we left, Raoul invited us to a ranch he owned outside of town. He raised fighting bulls as a hobby. In the pens were massive beasts with huge swaying testicles which he pointed out with great pride to my wife. In smaller restraining pens they were collecting semen for artificial insemination.
My wife’s eyes glittered with a look I’d never seen before. At one point Raoul took her hand and reached through the sturdy rails to let her feel the bull’s nuts. Her small graceful hands massaged his big bovine balls and felt every inch of his powerful cock. The animal arched its massive back and snorted fiercely. Heavily chained, the beast bellowed in protest as she stroked the foreskin back and forth over its mammoth cockhead. Wild eyed and frothing at the mouth the agitated animal strained against its bonds. Its raised back bone curved like a hunter’s bow and great spurts of white come jetted from his mighty prick.
Raoul laughed and ran his hand down the crack of my wife’s ass while she wiped the come off her fingers. Her cheeks beyoğlu escort were flushed with excitement. I knew just to look at her, how turned on she was.
Turning to me, Raoul asked if I’d mind going back to the house to bring some beer. I agreed readily, although I knew it was only an excuse to get me out of the way. I passed the request on to the first ranch hand I found, and quickly hurried back to the pen.
Shirley was naked by then. Her clothes fluttered on a fence rail. I watched our host help her climb onto the bull’s back. Her legs were stretched wide by the animal’s enormous girth and her breasts pressed hard into the coarse hair of his back. Raoul pushed her buttocks lower with his hand. She hunkered down until her pelvis snugged against the bull’s trembling spine.
From the shadows of the barn a scattering of men had gathered to watch. My wife’s ass began to move. Clearly visible, between her legs at the back, the smooth rolls of her cunt lips rocked to and fro as she rubbed her clit against the sweating animal. Raoul looked over to where we were standing and smiled at us in his charming way. He spread my wife’s buttocks to expose the rosette of her anus and whispered to her that we were watching. The pace quickened and her breath punctuated her humping with short little gasps. The cheeks of her lovely ass shook with a series of frenzied strokes and she came, bucking and squealing on the bewildered bull’s back.
There were smiles all around from her little audience as they watched and listened to her unrestrained shrieks of pleasure. For a long moment she lay moulded to the back of the snorting beast before Raoul helped her down. Her legs were wobbly and she dropped to her knees in the loose dirt of the corral. Naked, in the bright sunlight, her deep tan seemed pale even beside the alabaster patches her bathing suit had protected. Her nipples were oversized brown rings on firm, fat, creamy globes that quivered when she moved.
Like an adoring chattel she knelt clinging to his leg, pressing her cheek against his thigh. No concern for her nakedness or the spectacle she had provided was evident in any way. Raoul glanced the twenty feet to where we waited, smiled and said something to my wife that we couldn’t hear. Her hands went to the buttons on his jeans and I knew what he’d asked her to do. She’d been doing it for him all week, but it felt odd to see her so willing to do it in front of the other men. They knew she was my wife. Although nothing was said, I knew that they wouldn’t permit me to interfere. Raoul called all the shots.
Like a hungry puppy she licked his cock as if it were heaven itself. Her pink bizimkent escort tongue ran sensuously over the veined shaft making it jump and twitch in response. Raoul’s hand cupped the back of her neck as her soft lips descended over the knob. He smiled graciously in my direction, while he manoeuvred his cock deep into my wife’s mouth. I expected her to choke as she usually did, but she handled it easily. His cock was far larger than mine and yet she took it in as if she’d been doing it all her life. Right to the back of her throat and then out slowly to the purple knob, tongue and lips pulling on it while her soft hands paid homage to his hairy balls. His eyes never left mine and the mocking smile never wavered. He was getting close. Any minute I expected her to turn away and refuse to continue. For the last few strokes he moved her hands away and held her face in a firm grip. His hips pumped more rapidly and little grunts escaped his lips as he pushed. Then his eyes squinted and his smile froze into the anguish of his pleasure.
She was taking his seed, hungrily sucking it from his swollen balls into her mouth. Jealousy swept over me as I witnessed the relish with which she accepted his come, swallowing it like a favourite treat. She sucked and licked his triumphant prick, gathering the remnants of his ejaculate with her tongue, and licking her lips with satisfaction. Raoul dried his cock with her hair before rebut toning his pants.
I heard her fervent thank you as she looked into his eyes. They walked arm in arm over to where I stood with the ranch hands. Only her stiffened nipples made me think my wife was even aware of her nakedness. Raoul’s hand arrogantly stroked her belly and dipped unchallenged between her legs. He made an elaborate show of fingering her for my benefit and Shirley responded shamelessly to him, letting him excite her once more.
‘Your wife is very good,’ he grinned. ‘And very beautiful,’ he added running his hand up to cup her breast. ‘We hope that she will never forget us here. The men have prepared a small remembrance for her.’
With that he placed her hand in that of one of the workers and they led her off. I watched and would have followed but Raoul’s hand on my arm told me not to.
‘The men are shy,’ he explained. They don’t like to be naked with strangers.’
The sun was setting when I saw them walking back up the path to the house. Shirley was laughing and she had her arm around a man’s waist. Still naked, she carried her clothes in her hand. No patch of curly hair darkened her pubes. They’d shorn her like a lamb, shaved the pouting lips of her sex smooth for their pleasure. The woman, who a month ago agonized over the brevity of her bathing suit, stood proudly while Raoul ran his fingers over her hairless sex. As a final gesture to her acquiescence he wet his finger in the well of her lust and then slipped it into her mouth. From her bundled clothes he took her bra and panties, handing them to the men like souvenirs.
‘Your wife is very beautiful,’ he said to me. ‘Take her home and treat her well.’
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