Watching My Wife: Part Five

My desire to watch my wife with another man takes a dark turn

This is part five of a longer story. I suggest you read the first four parts to truly feel what Roger is going through. For those who don’t want to do that I’ll give you a short update.

About a year ago, Roger found out he enjoyed watching his wife, Lauren, masturbate. That kink soon developed into a desire to watch her with another man. Roger has been gently prodding his wife to take the next step down his dark path. So far, she has refused.

A couple of months later, I was thirty thousand feet in the air reading a Costa Rican travel guide I had checked out from the library. Lauren was resting her head on my shoulder; her day had started early. I glanced out the window entranced by the green canopy of the rainforest below us.

In a few hours we’d be lounging by the pool at our resort, sipping on Mai-tais and piña coladas, working on our tans. Relaxing.

Pura Vida, as the locals say. I read that in the travel book.

There was another facet of our trip I was anticipating with arousal and trepidation. A surprise I had planned for Lauren and myself. One that would finally lead to my fantasy being fulfilled. The preparation had been costly and time consuming, but I was sure, in the end, it would be worth every ounce of effort. I prayed my wife would feel the same.

We landed in Liberia without incident. I had pre-booked a taxi to our resort, so we were able to quickly move through the gauntlet of drivers clamoring for our business on the walk to the exit. Our driver was patiently waiting outside near his car. Our flight was an hour and a half late and I was very glad to see him; he’d be getting a double tip from me.

The warm muggy air caught me by surprise. I noticed the beads of sweat forming on Lauren’s brow. My eyes watched one drop trickle slowly down the bridge of her nose and fall, oh so gracefully, onto the top of her left breast, exposed by the wide v-neck purple top she wore. From there it slid down into the depths of her cleavage.

“Señor?”

“Huh?”

Lauren and our driver — Manuel, I would later learn — laughed.

“Sorry. I was — ”

“Elsewhere. I know. You’re distracted.” Manuel had already gathered our bags and stowed them away in the trunk of his red Camry.

“The Grand Papagayo. You know of it?”

“Si. Beautiful place. You’ll love it.”

After a thirty minute drive past rice fields and forests and the occasional roadside marketplace, we arrived at our destination.

Manuel was correct. The place was beautiful.

The main building, housing the front desk, two restaurants and three different themed bars, stood at the top of a steep hill. Down a long flight of stairs lay the resort’s pool, rec center and another restaurant. Past the trees, we were told, sat private villas and another smaller bar that could service guests on their way to and from the beach that lay a little bit further down the path.

While we were checking in I heard a great scream coming from somewhere in the trees next to the pool. I immediately thought someone was slaughtering a herd of wild boars.

“What the?”

The desk clerk smiled. “That’s the monkeys. Howlers. About a dozen of them live in the trees between here and the ocean. They sometimes have guests of their own.”

“How charming.”

“Señora is correct. We have the howlers, many lizards and many many birds living on the grounds.”

“Will they bother us?”

“Not to worry, Señor. They’re mostly harmless. We just ask you not to feed them.”

We thanked the clerk, gathered our keys and followed the bellman to our room.

Jose led us down a paved path. We walked round a huge Guanacaste tree, over a hundred feet tall, the national tree we were told. After that, past two neatly trimmed hedges to our building. Our room was on the third level, the highest.

We’d booked a one bedroom suite. The main sitting room had a nice long couch facing a flat screen TV on the wall. A small kitchenette nestled in the corner, just to the left of the entrance.

Jose brought our bags in and set them down in the bedroom. He pointed out the hot tub in the bathroom, how it easily fit two people. He explained how the A/C worked and the lock off door that separated our suite from the studio next door.

“Look at that view.”

Jose and I turned to see Lauren standing at the window. Her wonderful curves, silhouetted against the bright sun light pouring in. I glanced over at the bellman. He was smiling, until he noticed I was looking at him, then his face went all serious.

“A stunning view.” I said. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jose started to apologize in Spanish.

“No Problemo.” I whispered, in my butchered accent. “Entiendo.” I think I told him I understood. I placed a twenty dollar bill into his palm. Before he left, he told me if I needed anything we should make sure to ask for him.

I closed the door behind him and went over to join my wife at the window.

The view was perfect, looking down at the pool below us, palm trees spaced around for shade. Further off, the Pacific Ocean.

I wrapped my arms around Lauren.

“Can we stay forever?” She leaned her head into my shoulders as she spoke the words that had been swimming in my head.

“If I win the lottery. Or have a rich uncle I don’t know about.”

My wife sighed.

***

Later that evening, we took a sunset walk away from the resort.

We strode hand in hand behind our guide, Esteban; Steven in another life before his family immigrated from Canada when he was eight years old.

Esteban was chatting in Spanish with another couple. I could make out bits of the conversation. They were from Spain. Here on their honeymoon, I think.

Our guide led us up a road that lay next to our resort, but outside the fence. After a few dips and curves, we came to a small security guard hut. Our guide waved at the young man who came out to greet us. A whiff of sweet marijuana smoke assaulted us as he opened the door.

Our guide and the guard — I think — exchanged a few words. They spoke much too fast for me to understand. With a nod and a wave he let us pass.

We were on private property now. No buildings could be seen. Just the road and the occasional empty concrete slab and the forest trying to reclaim the land.

Esteban explained to the four of us, effortlessly switching between Spanish and English, that the owners of the land were planning to build a new resort on the remains of a much older one, just as soon as the financing came through.

“And the guard shack?”

“Oh, they keep the squatters out.”

Lauren asked if pot was legal in Costa Rica.

Our guide laughed. “Not legal. Overlooked.”

“You looking to get high.” I asked.

My wife elbowed me in the ribs.

I knew she smoked a little in college, as had I. Since then, alcohol had become our drug of choice.

Esteban cautioned that if we did score any weed, we should be cool about it.

About fifteen minutes after leaving the resort grounds, we arrived at the top of a high cliff. Below us, the ocean waves crashed against the rocky shore. Off to the west, the sun, now a blazing ball of orange fire, had started its descent into the Pacific. The horizon quickly passed through all the shades of the rainbow: orange, red, green, violet.

I held my wife close, my hand on her hip. We stood not two feet from the edge, yet I felt safe and secure. The love we shared passed between and through us. We were one.

I almost decided to scrap the plan I had devised, to fulfill my fantasy. I almost gave up on watching my wife fuck another man.

I still loved Lauren, with all my heart. I felt secure in our relationship, and that security led me to indulge my baser animal instincts.

My love for my wife was strong. My fetish, was just as strong.

I thought about ending my scheme. I thought about simply enjoying our week together in this equatorial paradise.

But I didn’t.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh that’s good.”

My head was buried between my wife’s legs, my tongue savagely lapping at her pussy. I had started gently lapping over and around the folds of her labia. As Lauren got wetter, I began penetrating deeper into her slit, my tongue running along the roof of her vagina. My wife’s moans signaled the assault on her clit.

I was now flicking the fleshy little button to a silent staccato beat running through my brain.

Lauren screamed out her orgasm. From somewhere across the resort, a howler replied.

My wife pulled away suddenly, her face a grimace, her hands holding her side. Laughter and moans of pain fought to escape her lips.

“God, I hope that’s not because of me.”

“I’m sure it was something else.” Still, she was pretty loud.

“Hope I didn’t wake anyone.” It was well past midnight.

“Who cares if you did? We don’t know anyone here. We’ll never see them again.”

“We do still have six days here.”

“Relax.” I started massaging my wife’s abdomen in an effort to relieve the spasm created when she started laughing while cumming.

Eventually she did.

I mounted her.

My hard cock moved effortlessly within her pussy, her slick walls pulsed around my shaft. I looked down into her eyes and her gaze met mine. Love and lust mingled in those light green-brown pools of beauty. Her eyelids fluttered. I felt a small spasm, a mini-orgasm, possibly.

Lauren smiled and my heart soared.

I started moving faster. My own climax was approaching.

“That’s it, Roger. Cum for me. You feel so good. Yes. Oh. I like that.”

I had adjusted the angle of my thrusting, causing my erection to rub against the ceiling of her pussy and my pelvis to hit her nub each time I bottomed out.

“Fuck, Roger. Don’t stop.”

“No. Plans. To.”

I was lost in her. My body, my cock, an offering of love. Her warm, wet pussy was her acceptance.

I could feel it, the tingle. The pressure building up. I tried to hold off, but at a point, it became inevitable.

I started pounding faster.

“Yes. Yes. That’s it.”

“I’m close, Ren. God, I’m close.”

“Do it. Do it, Roger. Cum inside me. Fill me up.”

Her words burst the dam. My cock pulsed, releasing my semen deep inside her.

After several spurts, I was spent. I collapsed into my wife’s open arms, my cock deflating, but still inside her. Lauren’s legs were wrapped around my ass, holding me fast.

“A wonderful way to end our first day of vacation.”

“Let’s do it again.”

“Tomorrow night.”

“It’s a date.”

***

I awoke the next morning to a light breeze blowing in from the open balcony door. My skin tingled as the air passed over my naked body. The curtains fluttered and the aroma of strong coffee came wafting in.

It was almost eight o’clock in the morning and I was alone in bed.

“Lauren, you out there?”

I heard the sound of china being set down on a glass tabletop. “On the balcony.”

“Coffee smells wonderful.”

“There’s more in the pot.”

I stepped through the flurry of curtains and looked down on my wife. She was reading a book, the latest Tess Gerritsen thriller she picked up from the airport book store at LaGuardia. She was wearing one of the resorts complimentary robes. The tie was loose. I could see she was naked underneath.

My modesty was protected by the bed sheet I had wrapped around my waist.

I needn’t have worried. I looked out over the resort, and except for a few groundkeepers diligently tending to the local flora, no one else was around to care. And the staff were minding their own business. The balconies to the left and right of us were empty.

I reached down for my wife’s cup of coffee but she slapped my hand away.

“I told you. There’s more in the pot.”

I went back inside. A clean cup sat on the counter next to the coffeemaker. I filled it, threw on a pair of shorts, and rejoined my wife.

“This is amazing.” I took a sip.

“The breeze gives me goosebumps.” Lauren lifted up the right side of her robe. “See. It makes my nipples hard.”

I reached over and gave one a pinch.

“Ouch.”

I pulled my hand away.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

I leaned over and took her breast into my mouth, playing with her rough areola with my tongue. My wife started to moan, but then, unexpectedly she pushed me away.

“We should take this inside.”

I looked down the hill and saw a couple of guys making themselves comfortable by the pool.

“Early risers.”

Lauren snaked her hand up the leg of my shorts and grabbed my cock.

“So are you.” Her double entendre was duly noted.

We took it inside.

We spent the next half hour in bed, then another in the nice spacious shower. We lathered each other up. I focused most of my effort on her ass. My wife made sure every inch of my penis was well cleaned. I would have loved to fuck her, right there, in the shower, but Lauren had other plans

She got out of the shower, leaving me with my hard angry erection pointing at her and started drying off.

“We have all week.”

I sighed and grabbed my towel.

We got dressed for a day of relaxation. I put on a pair of baggy red swim trunks and a red and yellow surfing shirt; I burn easily. My wife put on a modest bikini, red top, black bottoms and a sheer black mess cover.

We grabbed our bags and headed down to breakfast.

After a light repast of fruit and cottage cheese, we settled in at the pool.

It was quiet in the morning. Maybe a dozen people staking out the best lounge chairs. I noticed one of the guys from earlier was in the water chatting up a couple of cute young women who were floating around the deep end.

I didn’t see anyone taking drink orders, so I went to the bar to get our drinks, two piña coladas. I returned to find a tall dark skinned man standing next to my wife. They were having a polite conversation. My wife laughed at something he said. I got a pleasant feeling in my core.

“Not the time,” I whispered to myself. No matter how much I would enjoy watching Lauren and this brown Adonis flirt, I had other plans.

“Oh, Roger. There you are.” I handed my wife her drink. “Thanks. Roger this is Hakan. Hakan, this is my husband.”

A subtle look of surprise registered in this stranger’s eyes and he took a small step back. I reached my hand out and we shook.

“Hakan, was just telling me how much he liked the book I was reading.”

Sure he does, I thought.

I sat on the lounge chair next to my wife. We exchanged a few more words with our new friend. He was a medical student, here on a mid-term break. He was flying back to Turkey in the morning.

Lauren stopped flirting and went back to reading. I started rummaging through my bag, looking for some sun-screen. Hakan took the hint. He said it was a pleasure to talk and headed off to the bar.

“Surprised you didn’t ask him to join us. I know how much you like watching me flirt.”

“Not here. Not now. This is us time.” Besides, I had other plans. I started slathering on sunscreen.

“Maybe I should have asked” Lauren was looking at me. Her hazel eyes sparkled over the rim of her sunglasses.

My penis started filling with blood and I had to adjust myself. My wife snickered.

“You would have?”

“Just flirting.”

Was my wife becoming more comfortable with my fetish? If she was eager to flirt, maybe she was close to taking it further. The thought aroused and frightened me. My plans had already been put in motion. This could get awkward.

“Maybe some other time.” She went back to reading. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. Some other time.”

A young man wearing a pair of white shorts and a beige polo shirt with the resort logo on it came by and asked my wife if she’d like another drink.

Lauren looked at me, then back at the waiter.

“Another frozen piña colada would be nice.”

“Make that dos.”

The young man smiled at my wife, wrote the order down on his notepad and went over to take another order from a couple of older women lazing around in the water near the edge of the pool.

I decided it was time to get a little wet so I walked around to the shallow end of the pool and sat down on the steps. The water came up just over my waist. It was cool at first, but I quickly acclimated to the temperature.

After a short while, I ventured out further into the water. The deepest the water got was about four feet — so about chest high for me. I swam a few laps trying my best to avoid any of the other guests who crossed my path.

I was on my second turn when I felt someone grab my ankle.

“Sorry.” I spoke before looking.

“Just me.” It was Lauren. She had joined me in the water. She had her drink with her, an alcoholic cold white slushy, garnished with an orange slice.

“Where’s mine?”

My wife pointed to our chairs as she took a sip of her drink. I saw my drink sitting on the table next to my book. I could just make out the condensation dripping down the side of the glass — well the plastic glass — and I hoped my book didn’t get wet.

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“If you ask nicely.” Lauren gave me a tease of a smile.

“Pretty please.”

“That’ll work.” My wife extended her drink over the water. I took a pull from the straw. The pineapple and coconut flavored concoction went down smooth.

“Thanks.” I handed the drink back to Lauren.

“Da Nada. But if you want more, you gotta get out of the water and get your own.”

I looked back at my drink. I noticed one of the blue and white birds, we had seen around the grounds, land on the back of one of the chairs. As I watched, it hopped along its perch, cocking its head, left and right, making its way closer to the table where my book and drink were.

I tapped Lauren’s shoulder to get her attention. “Check out that bird. Looks like he wants a drink.”

A portly pale skinned man floated by on his back, his face and hairy belly the only parts of his body out of the water. “Doesn’t want the drink.”

As if on cue, the bird took flight, snatched the orange wedge off the rim of the glass, and flew up into the trees.

“The fuck?”

“Most servers leave the garnish at the bar. Some forget. That’s why there’s so many of those damn magpies around here.”

“Guess I’ll have to eat the orange first next time.”

“Wait ’til they visit your room. I got a whole gang shows up on my balcony for breakfast every morning. I don’t feed them, but I think the wife slips them some toast when I’m not looking.”

I thanked the man for his advice and got out of the pool to collect what was left of my drink.

Around noon, a couple of staff members came down to the pool and tried to get guests interested in a short water aerobics class. Lauren said no but prodded me to join the group.

The instructor, a short dark skinned beauty, her athletic frame encased in a blue and yellow wet suit that hung to every curve and muscle of her body, gave me the hard sell. I declined. She moved on to her next target.

After about ten minutes she and her co-worker, a slightly taller, lighter-skinned young man with short brown hair with frosted tips, were able to corral about half a dozen people into the water. Among them, the two girls and the guy I had noticed flirting in the deep water, a heavy set hispanic woman who looked to be around fifty and her husband, and another gentleman about their age with long black and grey hair pulled back in a ponytail.

None of the guests appeared to have ever done aerobics before, but they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. After about forty-five minutes, the music stopped and the group broke up.

Watching people exercise made me hungry, so that’s when Lauren and I decided to head off for lunch.

We had burgers and fries, then we went up to the main building to see the concierge about booking a rainforest tour. All the seats for the next day were booked, but we were able to snag two for the following day.

After booking the excursion we decided to go down and lay on the beach. We followed the path through the resort, down a narrow flight of steps to the water.

We were surprised to discover there didn’t seem to be much of a beach. The ocean came up to the tree line.

“High tide.” I turned around to see where the voice was coming from. A short, tan looking man in an official uniform had followed us down to the shore. “Not much exposed sand to lay on this time of day.” His English was good, just a hint of an accent, so I figured he worked for the resort. He told us mornings were the best time.

We thanked the man for the information and headed back to our room.

We had a few hours before our dinner reservation, so we decided to take a short nap. It’s surprising how exhausting it can be to lay out in the sun all day.

Dinner, for me, was an ordeal. My plan to see my fantasy come true was near fruition. Tonight, I would see Lauren get fucked by another man. My hands shook with anticipation. We split a bottle of wine with our light meal of grilled chicken and salad. We ordered two glasses of port for dessert; both of us felt loose, our inhibitions lifted.

I slipped off my shoe and slowly ran my foot along the inside of Lauren’s leg. I started low with her calf.

“Feeling frisky tonight.”

I moved up along her inner thigh. “That a question?”

My wife reached her hand under the table and grabbed my foot. I expected her to push it away. Instead, she pulled it further up beneath her skirt. I slipped down in my chair.

“Nope.”

I could feel the heat of her passion. I swirled my toes around the outer edges of her panties.

“Tease. Oh!”

I had planted my toe right over her clit, only a thin piece of silk separated us.

“You shouldn’t do that. Someone may. See.” She was having trouble concentrating on her words. The lighting was dim and our table was tucked away in a dark corner.

“Nobody’s looking.”

“Then I guess it’s okay if I do this.” Lauren pulled her panties to the side and I felt her moisture on my bare skin.

“Oh my.” I pulled my foot away.

“Take me to bed.”

She didn’t have to ask me twice.

The resort was all-inclusive so there was no bill to pay. My wife got up and headed for the exit. I downed the rest of my wine, threw a twenty down on the table for the wait staff and quickly followed her.

Our walk to the room was short in distance — it was the next building over — but took forever.

My mind was racing, my palms were sweating and I was glad Lauren didn’t seem to notice. I had my arm around my wife’s waist; her hand was in the back pocket of my shorts. She took the opportunity to squeeze my ass.

Lauren was frisky, in the mood to be fucked, and she was going to get fucked, but not by me. The anticipation was eating me alive. I was hard as steel, my boner ached, encased at an awkward angle in my khaki shorts.

Now that the moment was at hand, I was having second thoughts. Was this really what I wanted? Fantasy was safe, this was getting real and it could prove dangerous.

Through all my new found misgivings, my wife’s desires played no part. That oversight would come back to haunt me.

Lauren pushed me over the threshold after I’d unlocked the door. It slammed behind us. My wife pushed me up against the wall. Her mouth devouring mine. With one hand, she grabbed me by the hair and held my head tight. She reached into my shorts with the other and started stroking my already hard cock.

“Mmmm. Someone expects to get laid tonight.”

If you think I took this mauling passively, let me set the record straight. I returned her kiss with as much zeal as she dished out. My hands were not idle. With all the skill I’d developed through all my years as a sexually active male, I had Lauren stripped down to her bra and soaking wet panties before she had my erection freed from my pants.

Now was the time for me to take control and set my plans in motion.

I picked my wife up and carried her into the bedroom. She squealed as I cradled her and grabbed me around the neck. I was so glad we both worked out regularly and ate a healthy diet.

I tossed Lauren on the bed and started my usual foreplay, kissing her face, her neck. I paid particular attention to her earlobes. At the same time, my hands made quick work of her bra. I worked my way down, lavishing wet eager kisses to her nipples.

She squealed again.

I removed her panties and stood up beside the bed.

Lauren radiated beauty in the dark room. The only illumination came from the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains.

“What are you waiting for? I need your cock inside me.”

And how I wanted to give it to her. It took all my self-control to hold off, especially when my wife started playing with herself, running her fingers along the outer lips of her engorged labia. Her petals glistened in the moonlight.

“You like watching. I know. You like this?”

“You know it.”

Lauren started vulgarly thrusting two fingers into her cunt, while her other hand twiddled with her clit.

“You want to see me cum. You depraved man.”

If she only knew.

“You keep that up, my naughty wife. I need to get something in the other room.”

“What? What. Is. It?” Lauren spit out the words as she furiously finger-fucked herself.

“A surprise.” It was hard to turn away from the artistry laid out before me, but I knew a true masterpiece was yet to come.

I left the room and walked over to the lockout door.

“You better hurry back or I’ll call Hakan. See if he’s busy. Oh. Oh. Hakannnn” My wife’s biting words sent a shiver down my spine. So close, we were.

I opened the door. Before me stood my reflection in three dimensions. My twin brother, Richard.

Here we are dear reader, Roger’s dark fantasy is about to come to fruition. Will the actualization of his desires end up being as sweet as the anticipation? You’ll have to wait for the next chapter. To get notified when that gets published I suggest you subscribe to get emails when my new stories come out. And consider becoming a Medium member if you’re not already. If you use my link I get a little taste of your membership fees without it costing any extra.