|Wives Break The Ice|
by JarringJoe ©
Given that I travel a lot on business, I simply stopped fucking women in our area (or mixing with couples) and confined my extra-marital sex to out of towners I met on the road.
Anyway, five winters ago, we went to St. Martin's with three other couples, all good friends. By pooling our money, we rented a sprawling villa way up on the hills overlooking the ocean, with porches all around and a patio and pool, all fenced for privacy. We guys went out for groceries and booze the first afternoon, and when we returned we were surprised (and rather pleased, me anyway) to find that three of the four girls -- including my wife -- were sunbathing topless around the pool. To my certain knowledge, this marked the first time Kitsy had gotten even partially nude in a swimming situation. One of the other women covered up when we arrived but Kitsy and another wife stayed bare, even when they went into the house with us to stow the groceries. That she was standing in close proximity at times with two other men, with her breasts on full display, did not seem to bother her. And I must admit that watching her in such a situation was very arousing.
Later, when we were dressing to go out for dinner, she asked if I was OK with what she had done, and I said fine, it's your body. "Besides," I added truthfully, "you've got the best boobs of the lot." She laughed and said, "You weren't supposed to look at Di and Betsy."
All of us had more than our share of rum during and after dinner, and when we got back to the villa, someone suggested that we set up a wet bar down by the pool and have a nightcap under the tropical stars. From the kitchen I could hear some giggles and murmurs from the girls, who were down by the pool. As I came down the stairs I encountered Bob and Jerri (the only one of the women who had kept her top on during the afternoon). They said they were tired and that they would pass on the nightcap and see us in the morning.
I thought that something was amiss but we said good night and I went on down to the pool. There were some more suppressed giggles, then Di announced, "That water looks too good to pass up. But our bathing suits are still wet from this afternoon, and we're darned if we are going to put them on again. So, you three guys all close your eyes now -- scout's honor you hear? -- then you can join us. OK? Eyes closed, fellows"
Although I joined my friends in covering my eyes, I admit I peeked through my fingers and saw the wives getting out of tops and their denim slacks. Neither Kitsy nor Di wore a bra, and once they were down to their panties they hopped into the water. Betsy fiddled with her bra clasp a moment -- take it off? Leave it on? -- and tossed it onto a chair and hit the water.
Di called, "OK, come on in, let's see how those boxer shorts look when they are wet." (Translation, in my opinion: get out of your clothes, but don't get totally naked.)
And within seconds six nearly-naked adults were happily splashing in the pool, Kitsy's 36Cs glistening in the ambient light from the night sky. And when she volunteered to be "drinks girl" and replenish our glasses of rum and Coke, the darkness of her mons was clearly visible through the sodden fabric of her panties. She seemed not to mind that her pussy was on clear display, and she giggled when one of her breasts grazed the top of John's head when she leaned over to pour into his glass.
After a bit we all got out of the pool and sprawled on chaise lounges, we guys still clad only in sodden shorts, our wives in translucent panties. Through arduous self control I managed to keep my cock still, although it did swell enough to create a discernible bulge.
And when we traipsed through the brightly lit kitchen, enroute to our respective bedrooms, I got an eyes-on view of the nearly nude bodies of two wives of friends who I had admired for years.
Kitsy was out of her panties and naked in my arms in an instant once we were alone in her room, "God," she gasped, "being naughty can be such a turn on. Come, fuck me, right now." And much later, as we clutched one another in sexual exhaustion, she whispered, "Betsy wants to go to Orient Beach tomorrow." She let the statement hang there.
"You mean, the nude beach?" I said.
"Yes, and Di says she is up for it. How about you?"
"You mean, how do I feel about my darling wife running around naked in front of scores, maybe even hundreds of strange men, showing off her boobs and her pussy?"
"Oh, don't put it that way," Kitsy protested.
"Just let me say, 'splendid idea,'" I replied. She laughed and we cuddled and her hands got me hard and inside her pussy once again. And as I slipped into sleep, I wondered, "Who might be here in bed beside me tomorrow night -- Di? Betsy? Jerri? No, no chance of that? Or maybe even my own wife?"