A Week at the Beach: A Hotwife Romance by Jason Lenov

Author:Jason Lenov [Lenov, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Thirteenth Line Publications
Published: 2016-02-29T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I sat under an umbrella poolside, shaded from glare of the sun. I actually hated beach vacations. It was Samantha who loved them and she was the reason we were here. Watching her now through dark glasses, a Bloody Mary in hand, I couldn't believe my eyes.

She was lying in her skimpy little string of a bathing suit, attracting the stare of every man who walked into the pool area and every man that passed her by. I noticed most of them would go out of their way to detour by her deck chair.

She'd thought of the game. She'd thought it would be a nice introduction. A way to test the waters. To see if I was really serious. Now, watching all those men's eyes on her, I had no doubt that I was.

"Another drink, sir?" a deep voice asked me. I looked up to see a handsome waiter carrying a tray. He was staring at my almost empty glass. I surfaced from the depths of my depravity long enough to smile, slam the rest of my cocktail and place it on the tray.

"If you would be so kind," I replied.

"Of course. Bloody Mary again, sir?"

"Please." It was before noon, after all.

I settled back into staring at my wife. I wondered why this was such a turn on. Conventional mores said I should be jealous. I suppose I was, a little bit. Every time I'd catch a man staring at her longer than just a passing glance, an electric pulse would race through me. It never ended in rage, though. It always ended in a thick, hot lust that made my cock grow.

The waiter brought me my drink and allowed me to take it from the tray. When he asked if there was anything else, I told him "no." It must have been very obvious who I was watching.

"Is that your wife, sir?"

His presumption, or rather the fact that he'd asked the question, surprised me. "It is," I answered, looking up at him. I felt like I should say something, like I should defend her honour somehow.

He didn't smile. He just stared at her toned legs and the curve of her breasts, barely hidden by the two thing straps across her chest. "She's very beautiful. Congratulations."

I thought that was quite bold, for a waiter in a place like that to say such a thing. Did he go around saying that to all the guests? Then I realized, most likely all the men who brought their wives here didn't sit staring at them from across the pool, watching others gawk. I wondered if he knew what we were doing.

"Thank-you," I replied, glancing back at her body in the sun.

"My pleasure," he answered. Nodding, he walked back towards the bar.

I can't say I didn't follow the way his body moved across the deck. He was young and strong and inevitably I began to picture him between Samantha's legs. The very imagination of it gave me a painful ache in my cock. Like nothing could sate that desire but seeing the act itself.

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