A Week at the Beach: A Hotwife Romance

Copyright 2016 Jason Lenov
Thirteenth Line Publications

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, companies, organizations, products and events in this book, other than those that are clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, companies, organizations, events, or products, is purely conincidental.

All characters depicted in this story are 18 years or older.

Cover characters are models. Image(s) is/are licensed from:
depositphoto.com

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Foreword

My wife loves the beach. I'm not a huge fan of the sun, at least not when it's touching my skin. I don't mind it so much if I'm in a cave and its shining outside. What I
do
like about the beach is what she wears when she's there. That, and the way men look at her. It gives me all kinds of ideas. Most of which she rolls her eyes at. Some, she doesn't.

I tried to keep things simple this time. Just some fun in the sun.

Chapter 1

"Well should we do it now?"

She frowned. She was right to frown. It
was
two-thirty in the afternoon. Samantha didn't do that kind of thing.

I couldn't help staring at her. Her high, rosy cheeks. The way her perfectly shaped eyebrows curled around her almond eyes. That little nose, cute as a button.

She shifted her petite frame. Her round hips jutted out to one side. I resisted the urge to let a handle settle there.

"Do what?" I could tell she knew exactly what I meant. She just didn't want me to know she did.

I walked across the beige tiles of the kitchen floor as confidently as I could and turned her to face me.

"Should we do what the doctor said? You know, he said we should do...more of that."

Her cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink. "Andrew, it's the afternoon..."

"So? There's nothing that says that's illegal. The doctor said as often as possible, right?"

A smile flickered across her lips. My Samantha. Perfectly demure. Perfectly prudish. I could tell she was considering it.

"I should get back to work. I really should," she replied, turning and looking at the clock.

"You told them you'd be gone. I thought you told them you'd take the whole afternoon off?" I could tell I was getting to her. I could tell there was a part of her that wanted to be interested.

"Well, I did but..."

"But what?" I asked. "They won't know if you're still at the doctor's office or gone to the zoo or home with your husband. Nobody cares but you. And me. I care." I tried a lewd grin. Sometimes she just needed a little convincing.

"I suppose they are the doctor's orders..." she whispered, biting her lower lip and risking a smile.

"That's it Sam, you're just following the doctor's recommendation. No one can fault you for that."

I pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck. Her scent was intoxicating and I felt my cock harden at just the smell of her. Reaching around, I grabbed a fistful of her dainty and deliciously round ass.

"Andrew!" she squealed, swatting at my hand but not really wanting me to let go.

"What?" I whispered, knowing she was mine.

"You're so crass," she replied, her voice a low purr. But she looked up. And she smiled.

I leaned even closer, pressing my lips against hers. They were hot and ready. Her mouth opened and she let me push my tongue in. I felt her body soften a little.

"We can't have a baby if we don't try."

She stiffened almost immediately at the mention of it and I kicked myself for having brought it up.

"I was only joking," I soothed, "Please don't get upset...""

She pushed away slightly, as if considering my explanation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I pulled her chin up with a finger and looked into her eyes. "Sorry? What are you sorry about?" I was losing her, I could tell.

"I can't give you a baby."

"Samantha, that's nonsense. You know it is." She got so sensitive about these things. "You heard what he said. It's only been six months of trying. We just need to relax about it. It'll happen."

"Maybe..." Her eyes drifted towards the floor.

"Certainly. I know it will. But not if we don't try."

A final push. Do or die. She would take the bait or she might not, I could never tell until I was sinking down between her thighs. But I had to try.

"Well I suppose," she whispered looking back up at me with interested but slightly guilty, blue eyes. "I suppose you're right."

A hard feeling of satisfaction sank through me, and settled in my cock.

"Go upstairs. I'll be there in a minute." I said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled that I wasn't pushing her up the stairs myself.

"Just go. You'll see."

She eyed me suspiciously but moved towards the stairs and soon disappeared up towards the bedroom. I moved to the cupboard where I'd hidden the thing, then followed her up. When I walked into the bedroom she was taking her clothes off.

"Andrew!" she squealed, diving under the covers still wearing her bra and underwear.

I couldn't help but smile at her modesty. She'd always been this way. We'd been married for five years and she still wanted the lights off when we made love.

"Hang on," I said, putting the implement down on the floor and peeling off my clothes.

"What on earth is that?!?" she asked, mesmerized by what I'd brought up.

"Never you mind. You just get the rest of those clothes off and wait for me."

"Andrew, what is it?!?" She sat up. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. Fair enough, I suppose. It was a big, black thing that looked just like a cock and I'd never done anything like this. It was making me hard just watching her reaction to it.

Tearing my pants from my legs, I picked the thing up and dove under the covers myself to join her.

"Andrew, really. What have you got there?" She sounded curious, but guarded.

"Just a little something," I replied, unable to suppress the smile that had settled across my lips.

"A little something of what? It looks like a big something to me." She turned her head and giggled into the pillow..

"Never you mind," I said and rolled towards her, pressing a hand between her thighs.

"Oh, Andrew." She squirmed a little but rolled onto her back willingly. "We shouldn't take too long. I should try to go back to work."

Oh Samantha. My perfect little prissy princess.

My cock was already hard at the fact that I'd managed to bed her at this early hour. Daytime sex was a rare thing for us. The thought of my new toy only made me more eager. I pressed my hand up between her legs and found the wet heat of her sex.

"Oh, Andrew," she whispered, the muscles in her legs relaxing slightly as she let me in. I moved even closer to her soft center and let my fingers linger on the dampness that had gathered there. As soon as I ran them up and down the length of her slit, I felt her shudder and open even more.

"That's better," I said, coaxing her open further. She didn't disagree. I felt her legs open even more still and I took the opportunity to press my hand closer to her hot pussy.

"Oh, Andrew!" she moaned as I slipped two fingers into her tight slit. She was drenched already, as she always was once I'd managed to get her into this position.

Samantha was a confusing woman. She'd pretend to resist but every time I finally got my hand between her legs, she'd be drenched. The thing you have to understand about her was that Samantha loved sex. She just hated admitting that she did.

I let my fingers slide along the length of her folds until I felt her familiar shudder of approval. This was always the trickiest part. I loved watching her breasts heave as I fucked her but she would always leave her bra on, a modesty left over from a conservative upbringing, or church, or who knew what? Nonetheless, she always liked it when I peeled it off and once I did, her nipples were always stiff.

This time was no exception. As soon as I'd managed to hook my hand behind her back, unclasp the bra and pull it from her body, I felt her shiver at the sensation of the cool air of the room touching her soft breasts.

They were perfect. Not too big, round but perky and soft as pillows.

Her pink nipples stood taut, ready for attention. I pressed my lips to one. I studied the bumps on her areola with my tongue, savouring in the way her body came up off the bed in response to my touch.

"Oh Andrew!" she said again, much more enthusiastically this time. I was in.

I swirled around those stiff, pink nubs, enjoying the reaction I got from her. I felt her hand move between my thighs.

"Not just yet," I whispered, pushing her away. I had something special in mind.

I let my fingers make a few more sweeps up and down her now drenched slit, then pushed myself past her soft pussy lips and into her perfectly tight little hole. She moaned a little and her back arched up off the bed again. I pushed my fingers in and out a few times before pulling them out completely and reaching around my back. When I brought my hand back between her legs, her eyes popped open and she threw the covers off, her modesty forgotten.. Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared intently at the dark thing between her legs.

"Andrew! What are you doing!" she cried.

"Do you like it?" I asked, looking down and eyeing the large black dildo I'd purchased a few days earlier. It's tip was pushing at her entrance.

Okay, it's a little weird, I know, pulling a dildo out of nowhere and trying to push it into my prudish wife. The thing was, I'd tried almost everything to get her to relax.

I'd tried booze, she wasn't much of a drinker.

I'd tried relaxing her with a massage, she'd fall asleep.

Candlelit dinners? She'd be too full after.

Dancing. I'd even gone
dancing
. That put her in the mood, but I couldn't do it every night.

We hadn't been trying for that long but I knew with each passing month she was getting more upset and less relaxed.

So one drunken night, I'd decided to indulge in my own little secret fantasy. I watched a video of a woman pushing this thing inside herself. I thought of Samantha doing the same. I'd barely managed to take my cock out of my pants before I came.

That got me thinking, maybe Samantha just needed something a little different to relax, something she would never expect from me. Some big black thing to take her by surprise.

For a moment I thought she'd push me away, roll off the bed and lock herself in the bathroom. I'd never seen her eyes that wide or her look that disbelieving, as if I'd brought another man into our room. But she surprised me, as she sometimes does. She didn't scream. She didn't run and hide. She glanced at me quickly, then back at the thing pressing at her flesh. It made me hard, the way she stared at it.

"What is it?" she asked in disbelief.

"Just a little toy I picked up. Do you like it?" I asked, choosing my tone carefully.

She sucked in a breath as I pressed the thing towards her. I could tell she was grappling with her own reaction. Finally, after she'd stared at it for a time, she turned to me and whispered, "Yes."

I couldn't help my smile. Never in a million years had I expected this response from her.

Running crying to the bathroom? Maybe.

Not talking to me for a few days? Possibly.

Squirming uncomfortably and hiding under the covers? Likely.

Telling me she loved our new "friend." Never.

Pride welled inside me at my success. Maybe I didn't know her as well as I thought? She was not an easy woman to know. I pushed the thing up against her more firmly.

She moaned, an uncertain moan, but her legs spread and my smile widened as I let myself push the thing in further.

It wasn't just a big, black column. It was the shape of an actual cock, veins and everything. And she took it. She took it more willingly than even I had thought she would.

"Oh Andrew!" she cried as I eased half of it into her, its girth spreading her tight pussy lips apart.

It was as much an aphrodisiac for me as it was for her, watching the thing disappear inside my wife.