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Fantasy, Reality and Intimate Love
by Ickric (ick_ric@yahoo.co.uk)

***

Allan and Beth indulge in a little fantasy play. A 
surprise birthday treat for Allan is a trip to Ibiza and 
a little alcohol and a little "E" and fantasy and 
reality meld into one. (MMF, nc, swing, drugs)

***

Chapter 1
---------

"Make love to me," Beth instructed Allan as his tongue 
expertly explored her most personal parts. She always 
loved Allan's cunnilingus and he had special ways of 
arousing her. He'd earlier aroused her by a slow gentle 
massage with some aromatherapy oils of Clary Sage and 
Ylang Ylang and some music on in the back ground. 

Allan crawled up her body and leaned forward, kissing 
her gently. Beth responded, her tongue searching for 
his, tasting her own juices on his tongue as they 
kissed. She needed his cock and she reached down 
between their bodies, her hand in search of his healthy 
seven and a half inches, guiding it into her warm, wet 
and welcoming pussy, sighing deeply as Allan entered 
her. 

They both groaned as the mutual pleasure raised their 
pulse rates, their heart beats racing faster than 
Jenson Button. Allan smiled to himself as the simile 
brought images of formula one racing cars and he 
wondered if he'd discovered a new meaning for pole 
position!

Beth, blissfully unaware of Allan's mental visions, was 
getting off on his pole inside her as his thrusting 
movements became more accentuated, starting slow but 
building pace. Their tongues remained entwined as she 
thrust her hips back into his, digging her heels into 
Allan's buttocks, forcing him deeper into her. They'd 
been married for a couple of years now, having been 
together for more than 5 years and they both enjoyed a 
full and satisfying sex life. 

Beth had dated guys before she'd met Allan but other 
than kissing and petting, she'd never gone all the way 
with anyone other than Allan. He was all she needed, 
all she wanted and she was deeply in love with the man. 
He was good looking, stood 6'1" and was fit in more 
than one way. Sure, he was a regular down the gym but 
he was also very attractive and she found it easy to be 
turned on by this good looking hunk. 

He wasn't just looks, either, his education had enabled 
him to acquire a well paid job and they enjoyed a good 
standard of living, their joint incomes resulted in 
sufficient surplus income to spend on luxuries such as 
good holidays. And on top of all this, Allan knew which 
buttons of hers to press to turn her on. 

She disengaged from their kiss.

"I love you," she whispered as she felt the first wave 
of orgasm approached. Beth tensed her pelvic muscles, 
making her pussy tighter, accentuating Allan's pleasure 
as well as her own. Their breathing became more 
laboured as they rocketed towards their climaxes, 
Allan's forehead perspiring despite his obvious fitness 
level. 

Beth looked up at her husband and lover and, in one 
final burst of passion, she thrust herself into his 
hips with such force, she felt his balls slap against 
her buttocks, the slapping sound louder than their 
passionate breathing. She arched her back as her body 
went into an uncontrollable spasm, her breathing 
suspended temporarily as her body reached orgasm, 
swiftly followed by a second, the process sending Allan 
into orgasm as well, thrusting himself deep into her 
and holding himself in place as he ejaculated into his 
wife, filling her pussy with his sweet sticky cum.

They lay together, their bodies still joined at the 
hips as they fought to regain their breath, Allan 
supporting his weight with one arm, the other gently 
stroking Beth's long dark hair. God, she was horny he 
thought to himself. Her 34-24-34 body on a 5'7" frame 
gave her ample curves and sufficient height to turn any 
guy's head. She was definitely attractive and always 
received a lot of attention, not all of it unpleasant. 

She knew how to look good and she enjoyed having the 
power to turn guys on, to make men want her, to feel 
aroused just by her looks. By the same token, she was a 
one man woman and that man was Allan. She'd fancied him 
from the very start when they met when she was a sweet 
and tender 18 year old virgin. She'd given herself to 
Allan and, since then, she'd wanted no-one else and 
doubted that she ever would.

Allan had had a few girlfriends before he'd met Beth 
but he was totally smitten with her. At first, he 
thought it was just an infatuation but it slowly became 
apparent that they had mutual feelings and 3 years 
later, they married.

Beth was used to receiving attention and loved to flirt 
a little but nothing more than a bit of harmless fun. 
She was used to being asked out and chatted up at work, 
at clubs or even just out shopping with girl friends. 
But since she met Allan, she was completely content as, 
indeed, was Allan. 

Later that evening, they had gone out to a club and 
Allan had queued up at the bar to get some drinks. He'd 
watched Beth from a distance being chatted up by total 
strangers and, at first, it had made Allan's blood 
boil. She was his woman, get your filthy hands off, 
he'd thought to himself. Then he'd noticed he had gone 
rock hard in his trousers whilst merely watching them. 
How could this be? He wondered how it were possible for 
him to get aroused thinking about the love of his life, 
his woman, his betrothed being chatted up by a total 
stranger. Was this normal? 

"Silly arse," he whispered to himself as he thought the 
consequences through. All that was happening was that 
some guy was chatting to his wife, he wasn't cuddling 
her, kissing her, groping her or, worse still, making 
love to her. So what was the problem? The problem was 
the more he thought about the consequences, the harder 
his cock got.

"Yes, mate," the barman said, shaking Allan out of his 
day dream. Allan ordered the Vodka and Red Bull's and 
returned to the table. Allan was introduced to the 
strangers as Beth's "Husband" and as he stood at an 
intimidating 6'1" and well toned, the strangers made 
brief polite conversation before making their excuses 
and leaving them in peace. Beth smiled and Allan smiled 
back. His eyes, however, gave him away.

"What's up with you?" Beth queried. Allan smiled more, 
his eyes misting over with the start of some perverted 
thoughts.

"Oh, nothing," he lied. Beth cocked her head to one 
said and gave him that "Don't lie to me" look that she 
had.

"Well..." Allan began, "...I'll tell you when we get 
home," he said, hoping to distract her with a dance.

"No. Come on. Tell me" she persevered. Beth was a very 
strong willed woman. Allan sighed. How could he tell 
his wife that he was turned on thinking about her in 
the arms of another guy. She'd lamp him one, he was 
sure of it. 

"You ever heard of Prurient?" he said, outright. He 
hoped she was unaware of the phrase. So far, luck was 
with him as Beth shook her head. Beth wondered if it 
were an insurance company. In fairness, Allan had only 
become aware of the phrase recently when a work 
colleague introduced him to the concept. The colleague 
had told Allan about a prurient club where members, all 
couples, indulged in what was known as soft swing. 

"You know what swinging is?" he probed further. Again, 
Beth shook her head. 

"Is it something that monkeys do on trees?" she said, 
half seriously, half tongue in cheek. Allan grimaced. 
She was in one of those moods, was she? Beth took a sip 
of her drink.

"Swinging is a term used for..." He felt very self 
conscious that this could ruin a great relationship and 
physically prepared himself for a slapped face "...wife 
swapping," he said, reaching for his own drink and 
holding it to his lips, partly for protection but 
mostly to hide his face from hers as be blushed. "Soft 
swing is where you entertain... another partner... 
whilst your own partner watches... but only with your 
hands... oh, or your mouth" he stammered his way 
through the brief description. 

"What are you saying," Beth said, her voice intimating. 
Beth was not enjoying what she was hearing.

"Only to play out at home," he replied meekly. "As a 
fantasy, you know" he winked at her, taking a big sip 
of his drink. Allan knew he was not alone in his 
thoughts, the quantity of websites obviously had 
sufficient subscribers to make it worth their while. 

Allan was still uncertain why he was so aroused by such 
thoughts. After all, he'd kill anyone who tried to harm 
Beth. But what if the stranger meant her no harm at 
all, only pleasure. Didn't he love her enough to want 
her to have pleasure? Of course he loves her enough. 
But to imagine some stranger pawing at his wife's 
gorgeous breasts, the breasts he himself found much 
pleasure in caressing, kissing, nibbling, sucking...he 
noticed himself getting hard again.

"Why?" Beth's question broke his train of thought. "I 
thought we had plenty of fun in the bedroom area" she 
said, her hand slipping under the table and stroking 
his thigh, noticing his already firm bulge in his 
Levi's.

"Yeah. Well, it was just a thought," he said, taking 
another large swig from his pint glass. 

"I couldn't bear to think of you with... another 
woman," Beth said, her words carefully pronounced. 
Allan knew she was going to say something less polite 
like "Some old trollop" or "Slapper" or something.

"But we've played out fantasies before" he said, 
bravely trying to defend his honour. Beth stopped in 
her tracks. It was true, they had acted out fantasies 
before. Not often, mind you, but enough for a bit of 
variety. Dressing up seemed pointless when shortly 
after beginning, it would all be removed again, she had 
thought to her self. But she was also aware that 
keeping her man happy in the bedroom would make him 
less likely to stray. And, according to an article in a 
woman's magazine, variety was the spice of life as sex 
could get a bit boring.

"How do you plan to do that then?" she asked 
cautiously. Allan put his pint down. Could she be 
warming to the idea. 'Best not rush it, take it step at 
a time' Allan thought to himself.

"Oh, you know..." Allan said nonchalantly. Beth looked 
at him carefully.

"Tell me" she ordered.

"Well. Just pretend I'm someone different" he said. She 
blinked. 

"Is that it?"

"Initially, yeah!"

"What do you mean initially?" she enquired cagily, her 
face showing some apprehension.

"To begin with" he replied.

"Thanks for being a thesaurus!" Beth said icily, "I 
meant, how do you plan this to develop?"

"Beth, I watched you being chatted up by those geeks 
earlier and you've just felt my crotch. I'm rock hard, 
sweet heart. I don't know why, but it turned me on. 
Maybe, if we tried acting out the scenario in the 
bedroom, it might add a bit of spice to our sex lives".

"Spice?" Beth retorted. "We've made love in every room 
in the house including he garden shed, much to the 
amusement of the neighbours. We've done it in the car, 
in the cinema, in the swimming pool changing rooms, 
we've made love in the park, on a boat and on a hotel 
balcony. How much more sodding spice do you need?"

Allan looked shocked.

"I though you liked it" he uttered, looking deep into 
the amber glow of his drinks glass as though it were a 
crystal ball, looking for some image or sign that would 
give him some answers.

There was a short pause.

"Well, I do like it" Beth responded. There was a short 
pause. "But this is a bit different. It's perverted" 
she continued.

"No less perverted than making love in a public place" 
he said, his eyes never leaving his vodka Red Bull. 
Another silent pause ensued. "Anyway, it would always 
be you with another, not me with another". There was 
another short awkward pause in conversation.

"Just in the bedroom?" she replied, her hand stroking 
his thigh again. He looked up at her sexy brown eyes. 
God she was horny. He nodded in agreement as he spoke.

"Yes". Beth smiled, her hand reaching the thick denim 
clad rod that was pressed against his leg. She could 
almost feel his pulse in his cock through the thick 
material of his jeans and she imagined the tip of his 
erection covered in pre-cum, she could almost taste it.

"Then take me, stranger, to your bed and have your 
wicked way with me" she said, her cute smile showed 
just a glimmer of impishness, she was warming to the 
idea of a bit of naughty-ness in their love making. He 
leaned forward and kissed her forehead before moving 
his lips down to find her freshly glossed lips. She 
placed a finger on his lips before he could insert his 
tongue.

"Not so fast, stranger. Buy me some more drinks and get 
me pissed, stranger. I don't come cheap" she said, her 
mood changing to be a little slutty especially for 
Allan. 

"OK, miss" he said, playing along with the game.

"And don't disappoint me" she said, licking her lips 
seductively and staring straight at Allan's groin. "I 
only like BIG BOYS" she said, the words leaving her 
lips in her sexiest voice, the type you might expect 
from a premium rate phone number. Allan pondered on how 
well she might do as an operator on an 0898 number.

"So you'd like a large one, then?" he asked on purpose, 
knowing Beth would easily interpret his double 
entendre. 

"You betcha" she replied. "Oh, and while you're at it, 
I'll have a drink as well!"

Allan grinned at her mirth.


Chapter 2
---------

Allan laid Beth on the bed, their breaths full of 
alcohol vapour, their kissing passionate and hungry. 
Tongues wrapped themselves around each other in much 
the same way as their arms did, hands over each others 
hot bodies, touching, caressing, teasing each others 
skin, stroking, massaging, arousing.

Allan disengaged his mouth from Beth's, their breathing 
deep and erotic. The shadows from the romantic candles 
danced on the ceiling, adding to the atmosphere, the 
gentle back ground music and the smell of each other's 
cologne and perfume awakening all the senses. 

Beth went to speak but Allan placed his finger on his 
own lip as if to shush her. He leaned forward and 
nibbled her ear lobe and Beth responded, wrapping her 
long legs around his well toned hips.

"Tell me about this stranger" he urged her, his speech 
little more than a whisper. 

"Well, he'd be about your height..." she began, kissing 
him with each piece of information, "maybe with blond 
hair and possibly a tattoo on his shoulders" she 
continued. Allan became more intrigued.

"What else?" he whispered.

"He'd have lots of chest hair so I could feel my 
breasts being aroused as we made love..." she said, her 
breathing becoming more laboured as the visualisation 
manifested itself in her own mind, "...and pearly white 
teeth. Maybe he'd speak with an Australian accent..." 
she continued and Allan's mind spun every bit as much 
as hers must have done. She was really living the dream 
and Allan couldn't wait to fuck her.

"...and he'd have a big erection, lots of pubic hair 
which would rub against my clit as we made love..." 
Allan noticed she always referred to sex as making 
love.

"...and big balls that slapped against my bottom. He'd 
gently caress my breasts with his big muscular hands 
and I'd have to brush his hair out of his eyes as we 
made out".

Allan could hardly believe his ears. His mind conjured 
up an image of the Australian cricketer, Brett Lee, 
with a bit more muscle and height.

"What would you do to him?" Allan asked. Beth closed 
her eyes, as though she was loosing herself in her own 
imagination.

"We'd enjoy a few drinks and chat a little. I'd flirt 
with him and maybe stroke his chest to see just how 
much chest hair he had. Then, I'd let him kiss me. He'd 
have to make the first move, you understand" she said, 
her eyes opening momentarily as she spoke. She 
disappeared back in to her own little world again.

"I'd suck his tongue whilst he fondled my breasts, I'd 
let him unclip my bra before taking my top off so as I 
lifted my arms, he pulled off my top and bra at the 
same time" she said. Her breathing remained laboured as 
she laid back on the bed, her arms above her head as 
though she wanted Allan to caress her breasts as she 
spoke. Allan reached out for her ample tits and gently 
cupped them with both hands and Beth squirmed slowly in 
delight. 

Beneath the material of her clothing, he could feel her 
nipples pert and erect, pressing against the tight 
material, wanting to be liberated and open to the 
atmosphere. Allan lifted her top over her slim tummy 
and she sat up enough for Allan to reach behind her and 
unclip her bra, as she had described a few moments 
earlier, before removing the offending articles over 
her head. She collapsed back on the bed and Allan once 
again reached for her tits."

"Then what?" Allan asked, trying to impersonate an 
Australian accent. 

"I'd let the guy fondle my breasts and suck on them, 
one at a time, each nipple getting the same amount of 
attention" she whispered. Allan responded, following 
her description, his tongue and lips licking and 
sucking at her nipples, the saliva glistening in the 
candle light.

"Then, I'd reach for his belt," she said, her arms 
reaching out for Allan's belt and unbuckling him. She 
unclipped the button on his jeans and unzipped him.

"Then I'd tell the guy to undress for me so I can see 
how much he is turned on by me," she said, opening her 
eyes and sitting up slightly, supporting her self on 
her elbows. Allan stood and removed his jeans then, 
slowly and provocatively, he began to lower his boxers. 
His seven and a half inches stood proud and he so much 
wanted to fuck his wife but Allan wanted the fantasy to 
last. She sat up some more and reached out for Allan's 
erect penis and gently ran her hands down the shaft, 
her mouth merely centimetres away from the tip, her 
warm breath gently huffing on his hard moist erection. 
She teased Allan a little, allowing her long dark hair 
to fall against his sensitive penis-head, the tingling 
sending tremors of delight up Allan's spine.

"Then I'd sit him down..." she continued, rolling off 
the bed so she was squatted in front of him, "...then 
I'd do this". Beth held his shaft with one hand and 
placed her mouth at the base of his cock where his 
scrotum met the penis, her tongue extended and began to 
lick the sensitive piece of skin. Allan laid back in 
ecstasy as his wife butterfly flicked his scrotum. He 
murmured gently.

"You like?" she asked in between flicks of her tongue. 

"Mmm" Allan responded. He was ready to explode but he 
wanted to cum in her pussy, not on the bed sheets.

As if reading his mind, Bethany continued. "Then I'd do 
this" she whispered, her voice going as low and 
seductive as her laboured breathing would allow. She 
stood and unzipped her short skirt, allowing it to fall 
to the floor, then hooking her thumbs through the 
elastic of her panties, she slowly lowered her briefs, 
revealing inch by inch, more of her pussy until all was 
in full view. She stepped out of her underwear and 
knelt on the bed, manoeuvring her way up to Allan's 
shoulders before straddling his neck, a knee by each of 
his ears before she lowered her self on to his waiting 
mouth.

Allan poked his tongue out to meet her soaking wet 
pussy as her labia met with his lips, her dark pubic 
hair against his face. Allan adjusted himself so he 
could breathe through his nose as his tongue lapped 
eagerly at her moist love lips. Beth squirmed and 
moaned in delight as his tongue probed at her labia, 
his lips and tongue nibbling at her clitoris, making 
her squirm even more. Allan reached up and felt one of 
her breasts, gently caressing her, feeling her erect 
nipple against the fleshy part of his fingers. Beth 
responded, writhing on Allan's face as he turned her 
on. Unable to take any more, she took control.

"Make love to me!" she commanded, dismounting from 
Allan's face and wriggling down his body until she was 
over his groin. She grabbed his erection with her hand 
and directed herself towards it, wanking him slowly in 
the process. Allan groaned in pleasure. He felt her 
warmness as she lowered herself onto him, impaling 
herself on his dick.

"Mmm" Allan murmured as he entered her, his eyes half 
open as he used his other senses to enjoy the 
experience.

"Fuck me" she said and Allan open his eyes sharply. 
Beth was not usually this coarse when they had sex. 

"Pardon?"

"I said Fuck me!" she repeated. Allan was turned on 
even more by her dirty talk.

"Is this how you'd speak to a stranger?" he questioned.

"Shut up and fuck me" she responded, leaning back and 
arching herself as she rode his erection, her ample 
breasts pointing at Allan begging to be caressed. Allan 
obliged, tweaking her nipples with his thumb and 
forefingers until she squirmed even more. She began 
bucking on Allan's love rod, moaning in delight as his 
meat filled her completely. She may be living out a 
fantasy for her husband for his sake, but he was 
everything she needed, great technique and sufficient 
size to satisfy. 

He thrust his hips as deep into her as he could and 
they both gasped simultaneously, almost as though his 
movements were instinctual. That was another thing she 
loved about him, they were so in tune with each other, 
as friends as well as lovers. God, he was so good in 
bed and she doubted she'd find better, even if she 
tried.

Allan was turned on by Beth, images of her with someone 
else raging in his brain like a hurricane. Of course, 
he could never go through with the idea in real life 
and neither could Beth, they were too much in love with 
each other. But they were happy to act out fantasies 
together and that closeness made them even closer, 
sharing not just their lives (and bodily juices) but 
their dreams and fantasies as well.

Beth was in her own little world, too. She could do the 
dirty talk but what really turned her on was seeing her 
hubby enjoying himself as this invariably resulted in 
his performance being even better. Consequently, she 
would reach a strong and powerful climax if Allan was 
in tip-top shape so playing out the fantasies were as 
much for her own benefit as for his. And his 
performance this evening was unbelievable. What's more, 
he had some staying power, he could make love for hours 
before withering and tonight was no exception.

Beth felt her plateau was on the ascend again and her 
movements became more vigorous, her writhing became 
more accentuated as she hurtled towards her climax. 
Beth's breathing came in short sharp gasps as she 
prepared herself for her blessed relief, her muscles 
tensed as she reached her climax. 

"Oh my god!" she yelped as Allan moved one hand from a 
breast to her clitoris and massaged it gently with his 
knuckles. She became motionless, albeit temporarily, 
like a statue as the wave of orgasm made every nerve in 
her body tingle. Her breathing stopped momentarily as 
she climaxed, her pelvic muscles tightening on Allan's 
rock hard dick. 

She drew in breath suddenly, like a drowning person 
might when they surface, and Allan imagined the candles 
waving precariously as the oxygen in the room became 
exhausted and the flames fought for their own lives. 
The shadows on the ceiling were merely Beth's own 
movements, however, and as she came down from her 
climax, Allan felt his own climax building. His mind 
took over and the fantasy in his mind's eye sped him to 
the inevitable, his seed spilling into his wife with a 
force Beth felt, his sperm squirting against her 
insides, tickling her from within, pumping, 
ejaculating, cumming.

They slowly regained their breath, Beth crouching 
forward with Allan's cock still inside her, feeling the 
pulse from his penis against her pussy lips. They 
kissed tenderly for several minutes, enjoying the 
closeness of each other.

"Was that nice?" Beth enquired, her eyebrows raised in 
eager anticipation. Allan grinned like a Cheshire cat 
and murmured quietly to himself, feeling his own juices 
slowly dribbling out his wife's used pussy onto his 
balls.

"How was that for you?" he asked. She smirked a little.

"Promise me one thing," Beth said. Allan looked at her 
seriously, expecting some chastisement. "Never try and 
do an Australian accent again!" Beth finished. Then she 
smiled, giving the game away that she was only teasing 
Allan. Allan feigned shock.

"You don't like my Ozzie accent, Sheila?" he said in 
his poor Australian accent again.

Beth leaned back on the bed and reached for a pillow 
and placed it over his head in a pretend fight to 
suffocate him.

"You've been warned" she said playfully. They rolled 
over on the bed, frolicking about. Allan got the better 
of her and sat on her chest, his semi limp penis 
pointing to her giggling face.

"You're special" he said, leaning forward and kissing 
her.

"How special?" Beth asked.

"Very special."

"Special enough to get me a diet coke from the fridge?" 
she asked. 

Allan pulled away from the kiss. "Don't push your luck 
too far!" he said, playfully. 

Another play fight ensued followed by more love making 
and Allan thought to himself that they should replay 
this fantasy more often. 


Chapter 3
---------

Both had enjoyed the session and had eventually fallen 
asleep in each others arms, dreaming of how much in 
love they were with each other. They relived the 
fantasy many times, each time Beth would conjure up 
images of different characters, film stars, sports 
personalities, musicians, even one or two characters 
which Allan couldn't place. Of course, no names were 
used, just verbal images, allowing the imagination to 
operate at its full potential making the experience 
even more erotic. Every time, it would be Beth being 
taken by a stranger, flirting with them, flashing flesh 
at them, allowing them to kiss her, fondle her, grope 
her and then have full sex. 

Each time there would be something different, sometimes 
Beth would want it from behind, other times in 
missionary. On one occasion, they ended up in a pile-
driver position, something Allan hadn't done very often 
with Beth and required some forward planning to ensure 
she was comfortable and he didn't fall on her. 
Sometimes, they would act out the fantasy with the 
bedroom curtains open, as though the thought of being 
watched added to their enjoyment. Other times, they 
might make love in a bath full of water or on the 
dining table, sometimes with a pot of sweet and sour 
sauce left over from their earlier take-away that they 
had saved purposely for the event.

The seasons were constantly changing, the months passed 
by and still Allan and Beth enjoyed the fantasy. If 
they needed any additional spicing up of their sex 
lives, this fantasy of Bethany with another guy hit the 
target every time. Because each time was different, it 
was always wild, hot and steamy. Allan had been known 
to crawl into work, looking like he'd just come off a 
night shift, so little sleep he'd had. But Allan never 
complained, his wife was keeping him happy between the 
sheets and, let's be honest, if it were you, would you 
complain?

They often spent time in deep meaningful conversation 
and both had confirmed that this was only a fantasy, 
that neither of them wanted it to actually happen. That 
said, they both found the whole fantasy thing a real 
turn on, provided it was only with each other.

Allan, however, was still being told about the soft 
swing scene by his work colleague and how that could be 
a real turn on.

"No pressure, if you just want to watch, then that's 
fine. At your own speed" his mate had told him. "Soft 
swing is where your partner gives another guy a blow 
job or a hand job in your presence and they reciprocate 
with your woman. You can either watch or indulge with 
the other guy's woman. It's up to you but you can stop 
at any time."

Allan had found the entire thing odd but strangely 
arousing. He'd surfed the net and found a plethora of 
soft swing sites, a large proportion of them in the UK 
and had found them intriguing. Curiosity lead him to 
alternative sites and each site resulted in him 
becoming more interested. 

He'd even rang one of the help lines for a soft swing 
site and found himself in deep conversation with a 
lovely Ulster-man who bombarded Allan with mountains of 
information about the soft swing scene, the protocols 
and even just the social side without the need to 
indulge in intimate relationships with alternative 
people. The subscription fee was minimal and why not 
join? The chap sounded a nice guy and had an infectious 
laugh, making Allan feel really at ease.

Allan found himself intrigued beyond his own belief and 
wondered if he and Beth could maybe try something on 
their own before they jumped in and joined a proper 
organisation.

Allan arrived home early one evening and found Beth in 
a sexy mood. She'd dressed up for his home coming and 
had done her hair and make up beautifully for him. 

"What's this all about?" he challenged her as he took 
the glass of wine she'd handed him.

"I've something special for you," she said in her minx 
type manner. She reached under her top and pulled out a 
paper wallet and handed it to Allan. He put his wine 
glass down and opened the wallet. Inside were plane 
tickets for Ibiza for both of them. He looked at her 
quizzically.

"Look at the flight dates," she said. Allan opened one 
of the tickets and saw the dates incorporated his 
birthday which was fast approaching. "Happy birthday!" 
Beth said as he looked back up at her, planting a big 
wet kiss on his confused face.

"Look. We've got our own villa on a complex with a 
shared pool, clubs and bars nearby and two weeks of 
sun, sea, sand, sangria and... can you think of 
anything else that begins with 'S'?" she teased. 
Allan's face burst into a grin.

"Surprised?" Beth asked. Allan scooped her up in his 
arms and kissed her, gently at first, then 
passionately, his hands reaching for her arse. She 
pulled away from his embrace.

"Stop it. Dinner's ready," she said, adjusting herself 
even though there was only her and Allan there. She 
attended to the oven and hob whilst Allan sat at the 
dining table, repossessing his wine glass.

"I've planned what I'm taking. I thought I'd pack that 
sexy bikini you love me in" she called. 

"Which one? I love them all" Allan replied.

"OK, I'll take them all" she replied and Allan winced. 
Hopefully that wouldn't push them over the 20kg baggage 
limit too much. Just to be on the safe side, he'd limit 
Beth to only taking flimsy light clothing, that way 
they'd keep the excess baggage fees down and she'd look 
sexy in flimsy clothing. "Good plan" he thought to 
himself.

***

Allan woke up late one morning in the villa and his 
head hurt. The sun shining through the drawn curtains 
felt like his eyes were being scorched and his mouth 
felt like the inside of a parrot cage. It must have 
been a good night last night. His head felt like there 
was a rave going on inside his brain with Keith Moon 
and Cozy Powell having a drum duel. Then he remembered 
the night of passion with his dear wife. God, she had 
driven him crazy, a combination of alcohol and a bit of 
"E" they'd acquired locally and Beth had turned totally 
wild. 

Visions of the way she had mounted him flooded back 
into his mind and he gently put his hand towards his 
own genitalia, gingerly fumbling to see if he was still 
intact. He wondered if he'd still be able to walk, so 
ferocious was Beth in bed. He eased his legs over the 
side of the bed and slowly sat up, the rush of blood to 
his head resulted in another July 4th firework display 
exploding between his ears, his hangover pounding and 
echoing within his skull. He padded over to the 
bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. He 
still felt like shit. It wasn't like that in the 
movies, he mused to himself, wondering how he could 
still be jovial when he felt like a walking corpse!

He ventured into the sitting room, the patio doors were 
open and through the blinding sunlight, he could see 
Beth sitting on a sun lounger, cold drink in one hand 
and a book in the other. 

"Oh, you're up then," she said cheekily to him, putting 
her book down. "Fancy a swim?" Allan shook his head and 
instantly wished he hadn't. Beth looked at him but 
without pity.

"You old 'un's just aint up to partying, are you?" she 
joked. As she stood, Allan saw her in her skimpy 
bikini, the bra element barely covering her nipples and 
he could see them protruding through the wet material, 
her lovely dark hair still moist from the pool. He 
guessed she'd been in and out of the pool most of the 
morning, having a quick dip every time she got too 
warm. 

Her skimpy bikini bottoms barely covered her pussy and 
little tufts of dark pubic hair were visible, despite 
Beth having her bikini line waxed prior to their 
holiday. His groin stirred and his head pounded with 
the sudden increase in heart beat.

"So what happened last night?" he asked, tentatively. 
He hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself.

"Oh, not much!" Beth said nonchalantly as she sat back 
down. Allan sat on a lounger beside her.

"Oh. Good" he said, placing his head in his hands.

"How was Sharon?" Beth enquired.

"Who?"

"Sharon? That blonde bimbo you were chatting up?" Beth 
continued.

"Sharon?" Allan shook his head and again regretted the 
action. "Is this a wind up?"

"You must remember. She was the blonde tart with big 
tits. You'd only had a couple of drinks and you spilt 
your drink down her top. You tried to dry her top with 
your almost clean handkerchief before the bouncer 
intervened. He was going to throw you out for groping 
until I stepped in and rescued you" Beth concluded. 
Allan couldn't remember a thing.

"Did I have any "E" last night?"

"What d'you think?" Beth answered. Allan tried his best 
to remember.

"So I dabbed her...you know...with my hanky, was that 
all?" he said, hopefully.

"Yeah. That's all" Beth replied. She left a short 
pause. "Well, you tried to chat her up whilst you were 
'dabbing' her tits with your hanky. I saw you tweak her 
bum with your hand. Oh, and she snogged you a bit" Beth 
said, icily. Allan groaned inwardly. He'd made a total 
pratt of himself and Beth had witnessed the entire 
thing. And, what was worse, he couldn't remember doing 
it at all.

"What were you doing whilst I was.....talking to 
this...Sharon?" Allan enquired, not too sure if he 
wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, just dancing" Beth replied. Another short pause. 
"With Jose".

Allan looked up sharply, his head hurt but he was 
becoming more coherent.

"Who's Jose?" he asked. Beth smiled inwardly.

"Well, if you were trying to make me jealous, I thought 
I'd respond by making you jealous, so I danced with 
Jose for much of the night. After I rescued you, you 
sat in the corner nursing your drink until you passed 
out."

"So how did I get home?"

"Taxi. It cost me 30 Euros more 'cos you were legless, 
but never mind" Beth replied, picking up her book and 
turning to a page. She pretended to read as she piled 
the agony on to Allan.

"I think Jose liked me" she continued. Allan replaced 
his head to his hands. 

"How do you mean?" Allan responded.

"Oh, just the way he kissed me" she replied. Allan's 
jaw dropped to the floor. "And I couldn't keep his 
hands of my arse" she continued. Allan looked up at 
her, her sun shades hiding her mirth behind her tinted 
glasses.

"You mean..."

"Oh, you pratt! I'm teasing you" she blurted, laughing 
out loud. "Yes, I did dance with a few guys but only 
because you were out of it. When we got back here, you 
and me made love. You must remember that?" she said. 
Allan nodded. He did remember that part, his bruised 
thighs bore the scars of their efforts.

"I remember you getting a lot of attention when we got 
there" he stated. She looked up from her book and if 
Allan had been a bit more coherent, he'd have noticed 
her book was upside down.

"That's nothing new though, is it?" Beth replied. Allan 
had to agree. She was sexy, no matter what she wore. 
She could wear grandmother tweed and still look horny. 
Well, maybe not tweed, he thought to himself, but she 
had a way of carrying herself that turned heads 
wherever she went.

He reached for the bottle of Pepsi by her lounger and 
took a swig straight from the bottle. He needed re-
hydration with the sudden increase in heart beat and 
fast. Allan stood to go back indoors.

"May I make a suggestion?" Beth questioned.

"Huh"

"Put some clothes on!" 

Allan looked down and realised he was naked on the 
patio. He trotted back inside.


Chapter 4
---------

Evening descended and Allan had recovered sufficiently 
to handle another club but tonight, he would limit the 
alcohol and avoid any "E". He was still a little 
fragile and wondered how on earth Beth could still be 
so perky. Maybe she'd been less heavy on the alcohol 
herself yesterday.

The image of Beth and Jose had played on Allan's mind 
all day and although he couldn't remember the guy or 
any of the guys Beth had danced with, he imagined the 
guy in his mind. Like their fantasy play acting, he 
imagined the guy cuddling his wife, dancing with her, 
embracing her, cuddling her, kissing her, touching 
her...

"I wonder?" he said to himself.

"Wonder what?" Beth replied. Allan hadn't realised he'd 
said it out loud as well.

"I've an idea. Are you up for a bit of a challenge?" he 
asked Beth. She looked at him in one of her "What's he 
planning now" looks. Allan paused, waiting for her 
response.

"Go on" she urged, her arms crossed defensively.

"I was just thinking about you, last night. I know I 
was out of it, but I'd love to see you flirt with Jose 
again"

Beth smiled. "His name wasn't Jose. I made that up" she 
said. "But I did dance with a couple of guys, more for 
company than anything else"

"Would you flirt and dance with another guy tonight 
whilst I watch" he said bluntly.

"I'd rather dance with you, big boy" she said, cuddling 
up to him and allowing her hand to wander down to his 
buttocks, giving his bum her usual playful squeeze.

"Me too" he said, followed swiftly by "We can dance all 
night but I'd still like to see you flirt with some one 
else. You made me jealous earlier when you said you'd 
kissed and groped another guy, I'd like other guys to 
feel jealous of me."

"I don't understand," Beth responded, trying to look 
into Allan's eyes.

"Well, you know how you turn on other men. They all 
fancy you, they'd all like to bed you. That's a given." 
Beth nodded. She had to agree that she always attracted 
attention from men. She was attractive. A stunner, 
even. It was evident that she was able to create 
erections with just a smile.

"I'd like other guys to want you so much but it would 
be me that took you home, who slept with you, who 
undressed you, who made love to you. It's an ego 
thing."

Beth nodded. "I know you like that sort of thing. I'm 
not sure I do" she replied.

Allan sighed. "But you're OK with the play acting and 
fantasy stuff."

"Yeah, but that's just play acting. It's not real," she 
said.

"But that's the point, the more real it is, the more 
exciting it would be. Since we've played out these 
fantasies, our love making has been fantastic, don't 
you agree?"

Beth nodded. "Sure, it's been heavenly." She realised 
in her own heart that over the last few months, they'd 
grown even closer, their relationship was even stronger 
than before, not least because of the increase in 
bedroom activities.

"Imagine how much better it could be if you acted out 
the first bit with a real stranger. Imagine how could 
sex could be afterwards. We wouldn't need "E" to get us 
horny, all we'd need is a club and a stranger."

"I'm not so sure" Beth replied, not totally comfortable 
with the idea as such, although great sex was something 
she did enjoy. She'd never felt so close to Allan in 
all the years they'd been together.

"Aw. Come on, dear. Just this once? What do you say? 
Huh?" Allan's persuasive voice and genuine manner gave 
Beth a bit of security. After all, he wasn't asking her 
to sleep with another man, just to flirt and dance and 
things. And she had enjoyed their recent bedroom fun, 
occasionally instigating the role play, much to Allan's 
delight.

"How far do you expect me to go?" she asked, her 
eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Don't know..." he replied, honestly. "...as far as you 
feel comfortable, dear. Tell you what, is your mobile 
fully charged?" Beth nodded. They both had 
international roaming facilities on their cell-phones 
and she'd recharged her battery earlier, just in case 
her family called her.

"I'll text you with some suggestions. After each dance, 
make an excuse to have a drink and pick up the text 
message. Why don't we use the codes we used to use 
before we were married?" 

"I remember" Beth replied. "You used to send me lewd 
messages. You've always been a bit pervy, haven't you?" 
Beth joked.

"I thought that's what you loved about me" Allan 
replied jovially. They smiled at each other and Beth 
drew in a big sigh.

"OK. If it means that much to you" she agreed. She had 
a gut instinct that she might live to regret the 
decision but she loved Allan so much, this was what he 
wanted so badly so, why not? Anyway, maybe she would 
enjoy the experience, she always felt sexy when she 
went out, her clothing adding to her natural beauty and 
attracted lots of attention. She'd always found the 
attention exhilarating, even amusing provided it didn't 
get too heavy and, with their role playing recently, 
maybe she could generate some more ideas for their 
future fantasies.

Allan wanted to jump up and punch the air in delight. 
Instead, he put his arm around Beth's waist and pulled 
her close to him, placing his lips against hers.

"Thank you. You know I love you, don't you?" he said 
between kisses.

"Show me later when you get me home..." Beth replied, 
"...provided you're not too drunk again!"

"Trust me!" he said. Beth gave him another of her 
sideways glances which, in her body language, meant 
"Yeah, right!"

***

The club was heaving with people and they fought to get 
a drink at the bar. Allan opted for a small short with 
tonnes of tonic water. He needed to keep his wits about 
him this evening. Beth was looking really horny, a 
short skirt and a tied T shirt on top of a bikini which 
was Allan's favourite.

They chatted for a little while before they split. He 
would watch her from a safe distance whilst she danced 
on her own. She'd purposely left her wedding ring on, 
so as not to be seen to be fibbing when she came to 
terminate any relationship she'd built with some 
stranger. It didn't take long for a young local lad to 
approach her, he was late teens or early twenties, dark 
haired and olive skinned. He was about 5'11" and a 
little podgy, but clean shaven and smelt clean and 
fresh. 

He offered to buy Beth a drink and she agreed. If she 
was going to lead the guy on, you may as well do it 
properly and save some money in the process, she 
thought to herself. The guy called himself Juan and 
Beth was not about to argue, thinking his real name 
could be very complicated. He was in smart casual 
clothing and when he returned with their drinks, he was 
very attentive, asking Beth lots of questions like did 
she have a boy friend and such.

Beth answered honestly, no she did not have a boy 
friend. That was not a lie. She was economic with the 
facts however, assuming her wedding ring might give 
Juan a few clues. 

Unperturbed, Juan continued to chat Beth up, asking her 
lots of personal questions about her work, hobbies, 
music and so on. Beth felt her mobile vibrate as a text 
message came in and she covertly read the message.

"xxx" it read. That meant to let him have a few small 
kisses.

Beth was not sure about this, but her husband was only 
a few yards away and would easily pummel this Spaniard 
into a pulp if he tried anything. She accepted some 
praise from Juan and gave him a little peck on the 
cheek. His 'chat up' lines were incredibly corny, and 
she winced at his method at times. Still, he was sweet 
in his own sort of way and she was warming to him 
slowly. Her phone vibrated again. 

"*LL" it read. It meant to flash Juan a little bit of 
leg. Beth felt a little nervous but she decided she was 
up for the challenge. What's more, she couldn't wait to 
get Allan into bed. She guessed he'd be so hot and up 
for a good romp. She engaged in conversation with Juan, 
hitching her skirt up subtly to scratch her thigh, 
leaving the flesh exposed. She could see Juan was 
getting hard and he fought to control his vision, 
trying to look genuine and retain eye contact but with 
the distraction of upper thigh being flashed, it was 
difficult to keep concentration. 

Beth's bag vibrated again and she again read the 
message without being seen. 

"iI?" it read. She texted back "I". Juan's dick was not 
little, it was erect and Allan had been querying if her 
charms were working. Allan received the text back, his 
own cock hardening at the thought of this foreigner 
getting aroused by his wife. Allan watched from a safe 
distance, the music from the disco drowning out normal 
conversation unless you were very close to the people 
you were talking to. 

Allan wished he had taken a lip-reading course at some 
point. He was aching to know what was happening. He 
glanced at his own mobile phone. No message alerts yet. 
He returned his gaze to his beautiful wife who was 
flirting quite blatantly with this young local lad. 
Allan could take it no more. He reached for his phone 
and texted Beth with the message "*UU".

Beth felt the phone vibrate but could not view the 
message covertly enough for some time. Allan thought 
she'd not got the message. 

"Shit! What's she up to?" he said to himself as his 
fingers pressed the keys on the keypad. Send. Moments 
later, Beth's phone vibrated again. Allan was becoming 
quite impatient. Shortly after, Juan was interrupted by 
a friend, giving Beth the opportunity to read her 
messages. 

"He wants me to flash a bit of my breasts" she said 
under her breath. Her mind spun. This was getting a 
little out of hand. Flirting was OK, it could even be 
fun. Leading a guy on was very unfair, however. This 
poor guy was thinking he might get laid when all she 
was doing was prick teasing him. She thought about the 
consequences if the guy got heavy or violent. "Don't be 
such a silly cow!" she said to herself beneath her 
breath. 

Allan was just a few feet away and, although he was 
currently out of her sight, she knew he could see her 
and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. 
Reluctantly, she undid a button on her top and turned 
back to face Juan. He tried to restart the conversation 
but with the hitched up skirt and now an extra button 
on the blouse undone, his speech became less coherent. 
Beth almost felt sorry for Juan as he stammered and 
stuttered, trying to be polite but unable to remove his 
eyes from her sexy body.

"Fancy a dance, Juan?" she said, trying to save his 
embarrassment. He nodded, aware that his erection 
protruded through his tight trousers leaving little to 
the imagination. Beth noticed but was more subtle in 
her recognition of his cock, noticing that it was quite 
a big beast. Beth had not had heaps and loads of 
experience of erect penises having only ever had sex 
with Allan. She'd seen and stroked other guys' bulges 
when she was dating prior to meeting her hubby, but 
nothing more. She knew these things came in different 
sizes and she was sure this one fell into 'the above 
average' class, rather like Allan's.

Beth knew that this flirting thing with a total 
stranger was morally wrong because she was deeply in 
love with Allan. But it was the sense of adventure. 
Because she'd never really 'been' with another guy, at 
the back of her mind, Beth had always wondered what it 
might be like. Allan showered her with love and 
affection; that much was true, but it was great to be 
the centre of attention and Beth was enjoying being 
flirtatious. And she knew she was safe, Allan would 
step in and save her if things got awkward. 

The dance track wasn't one of Juan's favourites and 
Allan wasn't that keen on the track either. Beth, 
however, was having a whale of a time, shaking her 
groove thing like a woman possessed. As she danced, her 
luscious body swayed, her ample breasts swinging from 
side to side like a metronome, hypnotising half the 
dance floor as she danced. Allan watched from the 
balcony, his own stiffy pressing against his own tight 
clothing, begging to be liberated. He'd never really 
watched Beth from a distance on the dance floor, they'd 
always danced together. 

She was a great dancer but sexy with it. God, she was 
hot. And, unless he was very much mistaken, she was 
really enjoying herself, judging by the look on her 
face. He wanted so much for the evening to end there 
and then so he could take her home and fuck her. Allan 
wanted to feel her pussy on his erection, her warm wet 
tongue against his, her hot sweaty body writhing 
against his. He wanted to tell her he loved her. 

He wanted to show her his love. He wanted to make love 
to her. He wanted to fill her with his love. He wanted 
to spill his semen into her warm, wet, inviting pussy. 
Allan knew that pretty much most of the guys on the 
dance floor that were ogling his betrothed would have 
given their right arms for an opportunity to do what 
Allan was planning.

Right now, however, all Allan could do was watch. The 
music changed and a slow song began and, just like in 
the UK, the dance floor was flooded with blokes looking 
for a lady to slow dance with. Juan held onto Beth, his 
arms wrapped around her, his nose against hers. He 
spoke to her and Allan tried desperately to read his 
lips. No good, he was as much in the dark as he had 
been all night.

Allan noticed Juan's head move but his back was towards 
Allan and it wasn't until they'd danced around a bit 
that Allan noticed that John was kissing his bride. 
Beth had taken this strangers tongue into her mouth and 
was frenching the guy. Allan was regaining his thoughts 
when he saw Juan's hand slip down Beth's back and cup a 
handful of her arse, his tongue still buried deep in 
Beth's mouth. Beth was not pushing him away. Allan 
wanted her to stop so he reached for his phone. He 
turned around, not wanting to view any more, his mind 
all askew.

Should he text her to stop? He was pained to see her 
like this but, by the same token, he was so aroused by 
it. How far did he really want her to go? Not all the 
way, surely?

"Bollocks" he said to himself. He wanted to stop. He'd 
text her, then he'd go down to the dance floor from the 
balcony and repossess his own wife, take her back to 
the villa and screw her long and hard. 

"Good plan" he thought to himself. 

"Hiya" a voice said in his ear. Allan turned around and 
saw a blond girl looking at him. She looked slightly 
familiar but he couldn't place her. Allan nodded 
politely, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Do you remember me?" she said again. Allan looked at 
her. He went to speak, then froze. He noticed she had a 
large bust and in her hand was a handkerchief.

"You were kind enough to lend me this yesterday" the 
girl continued. "I thought I'd take the opportunity to 
return it to you personally" she said, leaning forward 
to kiss Allan. His worst nightmare was coming true, an 
unwanted distraction. Sure, this girl was pretty and 
had an ample bust but, right now, he had his own world 
to save. 

"No problems" he said, brusquely. He moved away from 
the balcony but the girl followed him.

"As a thank you, I'd like to buy you a drink. If that's 
OK?" she said tentatively.

"Uh? No need. You're very welcome" he said, trying to 
compose his text.

"No. I insist" she said, stubbornly and Allan knew this 
was going to be tough. Beth was strong willed and he 
guessed this blond girl was very much the same. If he'd 
been single and not in love with Beth, he'd have 
whisked the girl off her feet and fucked the arse off 
her all night. But he was married. Happily married. And 
all he wanted was his own wife, Beth.

The girl tugged him by the arm towards a counter on a 
supporting pole had two fresh drinks perched on them.

"I noticed you on the beer last night so I got you one. 
I hope that's OK?" she said. Allan smiled inanely. 
Christ, why couldn't she just leave him alone. He 
rushed the text and hit send, not noticing the signal 
from this part of the club was zero. The text message 
did not send. 

Allan tried not to get into conversation but the blond 
was very persuasive, using her charms and her curves o 
direct the dialogue.

"Where's your other half, then?" she asked. Allan's 
wedding ring may have given him away and he really 
couldn't recall what they'd spoken about last night.

"She's dancing" he said, making towards the balcony to 
look over the edge. The girl held his elbow.

"So as she's deserted you, we've time for a little 
chat, then" she said forcefully. Allan hesitated just 
long enough for the girl to take control.

"Good" she said, leading him to a quieter part of the 
club. "Tell me all about yourself" she commanded. This 
part of the club had leather sofa's and the music was 
such that you could talk without being drowned out. 
Allan was in no mood for small talk, his dearly 
betrothed was in the process of being pawed and poked 
by some dirty little oik and he objected. Hang on a 
minute. 

It had been Allan's idea in the first place, the entire 
fantasy thing had been solely his idea, hadn't it? So 
why was he objecting to Beth being groped by a 
stranger, it had been his own suggestion? He'd 
fantasised about Beth being taken, even fucked by a 
stranger. His own emotions went through the roller 
coaster ride it had earlier. Problem was, he wanted to 
watch and not chat to some big chested blond bimbo.

"Well?" a voice interrupted his train of thought. He 
was brought back to the present, to his busty blond sat 
beside him. She stroked his leg with her hand, almost 
absent mindedly as she spoke. Allan felt very 
uncomfortable and wanted to terminate his conversation 
with this girl. He had to get back to the balcony, he 
needed to ensure Beth was not in imminent danger.

Beth, meanwhile, was unaware of Allan's absence and she 
was still responding to Juan, thinking Allan was 
watching them both. She recalled how Allan had told her 
about the soft swing thing, how couples would swap 
partners and bring them to climax using their fingers 
and tongues, but not full sex. The thought of being 
intimate with a stranger repulsed her but the idea of 
getting someone aroused enough to turn them on was 
somewhat erotic. 

She remembered how it had enhanced their own love 
making and how she was getting aroused herself at the 
moment. She couldn't wait to get Allan in bed and give 
him a ride of his life. Who needs "E"? A wild 
imagination was enough to get her aroused and she could 
feel herself getting wetter between her legs as she 
danced. She desperately needed Allan's rock hard cock 
inside her and she wanted it now. 

She scoured the balcony, looking for Allan's face as 
she danced, unable to see him but quietly confident he 
was nearby. She was feeling really horny now. Where the 
fuck was he, that husband of hers? Maybe he'd gone to 
the gents, she pondered to herself, hoping that the 
only relief he was getting was from his bladder. She 
wanted to relieve him of the tension in his boxer 
shorts. She wanted cock and she wanted it now.

Juan noticed the change in her mood, confusing her 
anxiety with passion. She was obviously exuding an aura 
or something which told Juan she was feeling really 
horny.

"We go now" he told her, leading her by the arm to the 
exit. "We go to your place" he said, allowing her no 
opportunity to refuse. He lead her outside into the 
warm night air, the sudden lack of volume left her ears 
ringing slightly. Still holding her by one arm, Juan 
waved and snapped his fingers in the air until a dark 
Mercedes pulled up at the kerb. Juan ushered Beth into 
the taxi and he asked her villa address. She sat back 
whilst Juan gave the cabbie directions – not unusually, 
the cabbie was not local to the district, but 
frequented this part of town during the tourist season, 
making lots of money from drunk and unexpected 
tourists. Beth quickly tapped a text on her mobile, 
telling Allan to get back to the villa now. She hit 
send. Message sent.

Juan sat back and saw her with her mobile phone.

"What you doing?" he asked, his manner becoming 
confrontational.

"Oh, just checking for messages" Beth replied.

"No messages" Juan said. "Here. I switch off for you" 
he said, taking the phone and switching the unit off 
before handing it back to her.

"Just you and me now" he said, grinning. Beth smiled 
back meekly, scared of this stranger. She was very 
uncomfortable with the situation now. Allan had better 
get back quickly, she thought. 

Allan, meanwhile, was still engaged in inane 
conversation with the blond woman he'd had an accident 
with the previous night. He kept glancing at his 
mobile, then over to the balcony. The girl was getting 
pissed off with his lack of attention.

"Don't you fancy me? Are you gay?" she said at the top 
of her voice. People in the vicinity on the leather 
sofa's all looked up, conversation halting temporarily. 
Allan blushed a little and looked down at his drink 
like a chastised child.

"Look" he began, "It's not that I don't like you, it's 
just that...."

"Oh, forget it" the blond said, standing up quickly and 
knocking Allan's glass over his legs and lap before 
storming off into the crowd. 

"Thanks for returning my hankie" he replied flippantly. 
"Bitch" he thought to himself. Conversation slowly 
returned as Allan tried in vain to mop up some of the 
beer on his jeans. Suddenly, he remembered the urgency 
of Beth and he stood, racing to the balcony and peering 
over. His eyes scanned the dance floor to no avail. 
Where the fuck has she got to? Maybe she's in the 
toilet, he wondered. How could he find out? He could 
text her. It would be better if he phoned her, speak to 
her, to hear her voice. That would be good. He needed 
to hear her voice, to put his mind at rest.

He looked at his phone. It still showed no signal. He 
made his way down to the dance floor, slowly scouring 
the faces and bodies at the venue. The security people 
had noticed his unusual behaviour and were keeping him 
under close surveillance. An overwhelming smell of beer 
emanating from him also alerted their suspicions.

Allan's pulse began to race and his heart sank as he 
failed to locate either Beth or her new buddy. His 
stomach quivered like he had butterflies and he gasped 
in horror as his fears evolved in his mind. She'd gone. 

He wandered over to the ladies toilet and tried to 
approach a lady who was leaving to see if they could 
see his wife in there. The lady avoided being 
approached by some strange bloke reeking of beer 
outside the toilets so Allan tried to enter the Ladies 
toilets. Within a few seconds, the security guys had 
surrounded him.

Allan had tried to explain his predicament, that his 
wife had possibly been abducted and he had to go into 
the ladies toilet to see if she was in there. The 
bouncers were bigger and beefier than Allan and when 
they barred his way, he considered using force but 
thought better of it. The language barrier didn't make 
matters any easier, either.

"Will someone please just tell me if my wife is in 
there?" he screamed at security. They mis-read his body 
language and assumed he was just another drunken Brit 
and the ejected him from the club. His frenzied mind 
was in turmoil as he struggled against the fat and 
muscle that were ejecting him and he probably hurled 
some abuse at them. Allan wished he'd brushed up on his 
Spanish as they had said things to him that he assumed 
was profanity and threatening. 

The word "Police" he understood as he was thrown onto 
the pavement, his mobile phone falling out of his 
pocket onto the side walk. Allan stood up and nursed 
his bruised shoulder and considered going back and 
giving them some mouth. The pain in his shoulder 
suggested he should maybe just behave for the time 
being. He regained his breath then noticed the screen 
on his mobile was light. An inbound message. It was 
from Beth, telling him to get back home as soon as 
possible.

He rang her number, wanting to speak to her. It seemed 
to take ages to connect. Allan was greeted by a 
recorded message in Spanish telling him the phone was 
switched off and to try later. He redialled with the 
same results.

"Bollocks" he shouted to himself, looking around for a 
taxi. 

"Taxi" he shouted. No joy. He ran to the corner of the 
street and looked around at the cross roads. Nothing. 
He looked for a phone box, they always had cab company 
cards in phone booths, he could ring one. No phone 
booths in sight either.

"Fuck it" he cursed. He ran aimlessly, looking for some 
one who might give him a lift. He stood in the middle 
of the road, trying to flag down a passing car. The car 
flashed its full headlight beam at him, temporarily 
blinding him, the driver leaning on the road horn and 
winding down the window, hurling verbal abuse at Allan.

He sank to his knees. What the fuck had he done? Would 
Beth be OK?

"Shit" he said, standing and regaining his breath. He 
saw the bottom of the next cross roads, a car with a 
cab light on top slowing down. He ran as fast as he 
could down to the next crossroads. Please let the cab 
be empty, he pleaded, his hands together as though in 
prayer. "Please, please, please" he uttered to himself 
as he ran. 


Chapter 5
---------

Juan and Beth had arrived back at the villa and Beth 
was trying to play for time until Allan returned. She'd 
offered Juan a drink, which he'd refused, then she 
excused herself to visit the toilet. Juan had ensured 
she'd left her handbag in the sitting room so she 
couldn't reach her phone. Beth's heart galloped and she 
perspired profusely as the fear wracked her body. Juan 
became impatient and thumped on the bathroom door. Her 
heart jumped into her mouth as he used a coin to unlock 
the bathroom door from the outside. She busied herself 
at the mirror, endeavouring to appear that she was 
preparing herself and doing her hair.

"You come. Now" he ordered and Beth turned around and 
glared at him.

"I'm trying to get myself ready and looking nice for 
you. Is that OK?" she said sarcastically.

"You look fine. Come now" he ordered and took her by 
the arm, leading her by the arm to the bedroom. He 
guessed maybe she was having second thoughts and he 
wasn't going to be prick-teased by some British broad, 
no matter how pretty she was.

Beth knew that she was unable to stall him any further 
and that she'd have to be intimate with the guy. She 
recalled again the soft swing thing and thought if she 
was able to maybe masturbate Juan a little, by then 
Allan would have returned and it would all be fine and 
she'd be saved. But where the fuck was her knight in 
shining armour? It wasn't like this in the Hollywood 
movies.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt Juan's arms 
around her slender waist and she felt his lips against 
hers. She was still feeling horny and she so wanted 
Allan to be there right now, for him to get rid of this 
Spanish creep and to take her to bed. She needed cock, 
but she wanted Allan's cock. 

Juan had run his hands down Beth's back and grabbed a 
handful of arse, pulling her towards him. She could 
feel the shape of his erection against her tummy and 
she knew that this guy wanted to go all the way. She'd 
been leading him on all night, of course he wanted to 
fuck and, anyway, Juan thought she wanted him. That's 
how she'd been acting, flashing flesh, kissing, 
allowing him to grope her. 

As if he could read her thoughts, his hands ran down 
her thighs and back up again, lifting her short flimsy 
skirt in the process, noticing that her underwear was, 
in fact, one of her bikinis. He was blissfully unaware 
it was the set that turned Allan on most. In fact, Juan 
was unaware of Allan being in the picture at all. Sure, 
he'd noticed the ring but it was not uncommon for 
ladies to wear rings to ward of foreign predators 
whilst holidaying without their partners.

Beth's panties were little more than a string and as 
Juan moved his hands back towards her buttocks, he was 
greeted with warm soft flesh. He filled both his hands 
with as much buttock as he could, squeezing gently at 
first but then digging his finger nails into her flesh, 
causing her to press her body closer to his to reduce 
the discomfort.

"Oh, yeah baby" he said in his local accent. Beth 
thought that under certain circumstances, it could even 
sound sexy but in this scenario, it just sounded 
sinister. His lips kissed her neck and despite her 
fear, the sensation was not unpleasant. Beth wondered 
how much longer Allan would be, she wanted him to 
continue with the neck kissing. God, she wanted Allan 
so much.

Her buttocks were released temporarily and she felt the 
zip of her skirt being undone, gravity doing the rest, 
pulling the material down to her ankles. Her briefs 
were not elasticated, but tied at the side, something 
that Allan had loved as he could remove her string 
without having to disengage from any intimate cuddling, 
caressing or sucking. Juan was becoming very aroused 
and Beth knew she may need to prolong things until that 
husband of hers showed his face. Jesus, was she going 
to give him a hard time when he did arrive and eject 
this Spanish creep, She'd certainly give Allan a piece 
of her mind, that was for sure. After Allan had fucked 
her, of course! Priorities first!

Beth removed herself from Juan's embrace and knelt in 
front of him, slowly and seductively undoing his 
trousers. She took her time, knowing every second was a 
second nearer Allan coming to her rescue. She tried to 
be as slow as possible but Juan had an urgency about 
him the likes Beth had never seen before in Allan. Juan 
removed his under pants himself, whipping them off 
quicker than a Chippendale dancer might at a hen night, 
revealing the truth about his genitalia. Beth did a 
double take as she saw it for the first time. 

It was big, bigger than Allan's and he was not small, 
by any stretch of the imagination. Allan was seven and 
a half inches, certainly above average, so she'd read 
in Cosmo. But Juan was at least two or three inches 
longer and, to Beth's surprise, it was fatter as well. 
She knew she was not that experienced when it came to 
volume (she'd had lots of sex and thought she'd tried 
every single position imaginable but only with Allan) 
and was taken aback that men's penis' could vary so 
much in size. It was the girth that shocked her most. 
To Beth, it looked like a one eyed monster.

She pulled herself together promptly, so as to try and 
retain the control and she reached for Juan's erection. 
She thought that if she did the soft swing bit, make 
him come with her hand or, if she had to, her mouth, 
she could remain faithful to her husband. Hopefully, 
he'd return and save her before Juan blew his load. She 
pulled at Juan's foreskin and drew her hand slowly and 
delicately over his erection, noticing she was unable 
to close her hand around the girth of his monster sized 
cock. 

Juan was still standing and he closed his eyes, 
throwing his head back in delight as her expert hands 
worked his cock like a pro. Not only was she incredibly 
gorgeous but fucking horny with it. Juan had his own 
agenda and he had several aims, mostly to get this 
horny bitch to make him cum, but also for her to use as 
many parts of her body in the process. He reached a 
hand down and grabbed a handful of her tit, her tied up 
T shirt feeling soft. He moved over and sat on the bed.

"Come. Suck me" he ordered. Beth walked on her knees to 
where he sat, no urgency in her movements, frustrating 
John further.

"Now!" Juan barked at her and she jumped with fright. 
He took the back of her head and guided it towards his 
swollen member, the tip of his cock sopping with his 
own pre-cum. She gulped to herself at the thought of 
some stranger's penis in her sweet innocent mouth. His 
cock approached her mouth like a cruise missile and she 
opened her mouth to accommodate him, keeping her teeth 
away from his flesh, not an easy thing to do with a 
monster cock of this magnitude. 

She felt it enter her mouth, the salty taste of the 
pre-cum against her tongue and her mind wandered again 
to her husband, Allan. She recalled how the first time 
she'd given him a blow job, she'd found the taste 
offensive but, seeing how much he loved her performing 
fellatio, she continued and how she'd not just got used 
to the taste, but how she enjoyed it. It made her wet 
between her legs in anticipation of what was to come. 

She imagined she was giving head to Allan and it made 
the process more palatable, her head bobbing up and 
down on Juan's enormous tool. Beth recalled how she'd 
given Allan head in a car and how they'd ended up 
making love to each other with an audience, a couple of 
doggers watching though the window. She'd initially 
found the act a little scary but they'd fantasised 
about it back in the bedroom for weeks afterwards and 
how their sex had become more pleasurable. 

She remembered how talking about having a stranger, and 
soft swing, had turned Allan on so much, he'd become 
almost insatiable in bed, taking her wherever and 
whenever he could. In her mind, Beth was giving head to 
Allan and she automatically flicked her tongue over the 
penis in just the way Allan loved. Her hand cupped 
Juan's balls like she did to Allan, her little finger 
curled underneath and tickling the piece of skin 
between his scrotum and rectum. 

On more than one occasion, Allan had climaxed in her 
mouth at this and Beth wondered if she could save her 
dignity by doing the same with this foreigner. She 
blocked out Juan's image and focussed on Allan, how she 
would tease him with her tongue, playfully suck on him, 
tickle his testicles, make him squirm. She could feel 
herself getting wetter as her mind played it's own blue 
movie in her mind, images and sensations making her 
tingle all over. 

She closed her eyes to make the images more real, 
shutting out reality in favour of her own fantasy that 
it was her own husband she was pleasing. Her fingers 
caressed Juan's testicles, the rough pubic hair against 
her soft, sweet hand, her fingernails gently adding to 
Juan's delight as his most sensitive areas were 
fondled. Beth barely noticed Juan's tanned hands on her 
breasts again, lost in her own sensations within her 
mind. To Beth, it was Allan who was tweaking her 
nipples, arousing her, turning her on. She wanted to 
fuck so badly.

She felt Juan's erection depart from her mouth and she 
was brought back to reality. For a split second, she 
thought her ordeal was over, but when Juan undid the 
knot in her T shirt and pulled it over her head, she 
knew he was barely beginning. Throwing the T shirt 
across the room, it hit the vertical blinds, making 
them sway, the movement visible from the outside. She 
stood before this stranger, only her bikini protecting 
her dignity. The strapless bra clipped together at the 
front and Juan knew it would take no time at all to 
remove the offending item, liberating Beth's ample 
breasts to the warm summer air.

Allan had eventually found a Taxi who had not exactly 
broken any land speed records to reach the required 
destination. Another tourist happy to be fleeced! Allan 
paid the driver, probably well over the odds, but this 
was an emergency. He handed the driver some Euros and 
in his hurry, had no idea how much he'd parted with. 
He'd looked up and seen the movement against the 
vertical blinds and his heart jumped. 

He darted up the steps, knowing the rear patio doors 
would be open and that would be quicker than trying to 
find his key in this darkness. He raced around the back 
and slid the patio doors open, slipping inside swiftly 
and quietly like a burglar might. He made towards the 
bedroom and peered inside, his eyes wanting to see how 
his wife was bearing up but, in contrast, not wanting 
to see. Allan's mind ran through all the emotions, 
fear, hate, anger, frustration, love, disappointment, 
desperation, disgust, adoration, lust. The list went 
on, not one emotion appropriate, needing to feel a 
combination of them all.

It took a couple of seconds for the image to register 
in his mind. Juan, the Spaniard, was in the process of 
removing Beth's bikini top, revealing her lovely, 
tanned (had she really been bathing topless? Allan 
couldn't remember) tits. His olive skinned hands 
reached for her breasts, the same breasts that had 
given Allan so much pleasure over the last 5 years. 
They were his toys, no one else could play with them. 
Allan's blood began to boil. He could feel his blood 
pressure rising and he formulated a plan which involved 
introducing this foreigners face to his right fist at 
high velocity, followed by an introduction to his 
infamous left hook, then a size 10 boot to his 
genitalia.

Then why the fuck wasn't he moving? "Move, you tosser," 
his mind hissed at him. Yet Allan stood rooted to the 
spot, almost like he was viewing a video byte off one 
of the swinging websites he'd seen. Images of strangers 
fucking some one else's wife in front of the camera 
(and an audience) rattled through his brain, how he'd 
happily viewed these images out of perverted curiosity. 
He'd seen all the video bytes, he didn't need to see 
any more. After all, if you've seen one tit, you've 
seen them both!

Yet this was different. This was not some American 
couple that he'd never seen before and was unlikely to 
ever meet, this was not some staged camera shoot or 
porn flick, this was reality. This was his wife. This 
was Beth. This was Beth with some local teenage yob who 
didn't love her, didn't care for her, he just wanted a 
leg over. Allan had to stop this. Yet he didn't. He 
watched, mesmerised as the stranger lowered his head 
and started to lick his wife's nipples, nibbling them 
with his lips, sucking on them, making her nipples pert 
and erect. Allan wanted it to stop. He wanted it stop 
now. Yet the increasing bulge in his own pants told him 
he wanted it to continue. 

He noticed the Spaniard's technique, how he played with 
her nipples, simultaneously untying the strands that 
held her briefs up. That was Allan's trick. He felt 
remorseful that he'd even suggested to Beth they should 
play act the wife swapping theme, yet he guessed she 
felt it was no different than when they made love. This 
Diego had the same moves as Allan but with one subtle 
difference. Allan had just noticed the size of the 
strangers cock, the erection was massive, certainly 
bigger than his own. Sure, Allan had seen some big 
dicks on the video bytes on the internet but to see 
one, in the flesh as it were, astounded him. Any chance 
of Allan stepping in to stop the action were 
temporarily halted as he watched, open mouthed as Juan 
moved himself closer to Beth. 

"No. I want Allan," she murmured, bringing Allan out of 
his semi trance like state. She was trying to be 
faithful. Beth had been topless in front of strangers 
before, but her pussy had only ever had Allan's eyes on 
them. Sure, previous boy friends had tried to paw at 
her but she'd never acceded to their attempts to de-
flower her. 

Even when she'd had smear tests, they'd been done by a 
female nurse and, certainly since puberty, Allan had 
been the only man to see her most precious of personal 
places, to touch her there, to taste her, to fuck her. 
Beth was on the verge of tears, her panic setting in. 
Where the fuck was her sodding husband? Some bloody 
stupid game this turned out to be. In a few moments, 
her dignity would be totally removed and, with it, 
possibly her innocence. She didn't want Juan seeing her 
there, touching her there, doing anything that Allan 
should be doing.

Beth's pulse raced as her mind buzzed. How could she 
get out of this? It was becoming more and more 
inevitable that Juan would have her naked and then, by 
all accounts, fuck her. She hoped he wouldn't get 
violent or rough, that if she had to do it, then it 
would be as painless as possible. In her mind, she 
whispered a silent prayer that she would be spared, 
preferably with her dignity intact. It was not to be as 
Juan slowly untied the strings at her hips, the 
material that held her briefs in place dangling 
lifeless at her side, the weight of the material 
causing part of the front to fold over, revealing 
Beth's dark and neatly trimmed pubic hair to the 
atmosphere.

Beth gasped, more in shock of being naked with some 
greasy horrible stranger than any thing else. Juan took 
the gasp as a sigh of enjoyment, his lips nibbling the 
side of her neck as he, one-handedly, undid the tie on 
the other side of the briefs.

Allan's pulse was also racing and the roller coaster of 
emotions began all over again. He could see her pussy 
was soaking wet as the briefs revealed her vaginal 
lips, she was so horny and needed fucking. And that was 
Allan's job. It was his responsibility to satisfy his 
wife in bed, not some odd ball with a deformed (it had 
to be deformed – a size that big was unnatural, wasn't 
it?) cock. Allan remained riveted to the spot, his mind 
attempting to process the images before his eyes, to 
make sense of what was happening to his dear lady wife

Before his mind could process any more emotions, he was 
too late. With one swift movement, Juan had lined his 
cock up with her inviting pussy and entered her, slowly 
and deliberately, easing himself into her cunt, 
deflowering her like she was a virgin, not giving her 
further opportunity to decline him.

Beth gasped and Allan was uncertain if it were with 
pain or anger. He was to be disappointed.

"Oh, my God. It's so big!" she uttered. Allan's world 
fell apart again. His wife was enjoying being impaled 
by this monster cock. He couldn't compete with that. 

"No. Stop. I want Allan" she uttered, shortly followed 
by a deep sigh as Juan's cock neared full penetration. 
Beth had accommodated pretty much all of Juan's massive 
tool.

"Deeper" she whispered, not wanting to be unfaithful 
but she'd never had something this big inside her 
before. Allan was well proportioned and they'd even 
experimented with sex toys but nothing of this 
magnitude. It felt divine to Beth as nerve cells she 
never even knew existed were stimulated by this monster 
of a penis. Juan began thrusting into her deeper and 
Beth was going through her own emotional turmoil. This 
horrid little oik was making love to her. No he wasn't 
he was having sex with her. Fucking her. She didn't 
want sex, she wanted love. She wanted Allan. And he was 
late. Where the fuck had he got to? 

She wanted Juan to stop. To remove his cock from her 
pussy. It felt good but she knew it was wrong. She was 
loyal to her husband and, yes, she wanted to be fucked, 
but by her husband. But, right now, being fucked was 
paramount.

Her mind stopped mid thought. She wanted to be fucked. 
She always thought of it as making love. Sex was cheap, 
love was for ever. She and Allan always made love, 
that's what she wanted. Or was it?

"Oh my God" she muttered out loud. She was appalled at 
herself for wanting to be fucked, even if it did feel 
devine. Beth knew her words deceived her own mind but 
they came out in reflex. She breathed deeply and with 
passion. The adrenalin rush had taken over her body 
despite her mind telling her to fight back, to reject 
this oily skinned bastard from her pussy. That was 
Allan's domain. Then she thought, "Too fucking late!" 
Allan could have walked in right now but it was too 
late, the game had gone too far. Juan was fucking her, 
fucking her for real with his mighty meat feast. Beth 
moaned out loud, she tried to stifle it but it just 
came out, a deep sensual moan.

Allan heard her mutterings and was confused. He thought 
she was enjoying having this stranger fuck her brains 
out. He blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that 
were welling up in his eyes. Little did Allan know that 
Beth was equally as confused, wanting her own husband 
but enjoying being Juan's slut, albeit temporarily.

"I want you, Allan" Beth muttered, again bringing Allan 
back to reality again. What was that? Did he really 
hear that correctly? Juan was carrying on like nothing 
had happened.

Beth was using her own mind to block out the horror of 
this stranger inside her most personal of places. She 
wanted her husband. She wanted Juan to stop, to leave 
her alone, to go and......

She felt Juan withdraw from her and Beth drew a breath 
of relief tinged with disappointment. Had he heard 
Allan return? She knew Juan hadn't cum just yet. So why 
had he stopped?

She felt herself being rolled over to the side of the 
bed and she lay on her tummy facing the window, her 
legs dangling over the edge of the bed. A good position 
to see any car head lights approaching, she thought to 
her self. She tried to regain her breath but was unable 
to do so, feeling the unmistakable sensation of a 
monster penis probing at her labia. Oh, shit, Juan 
hadn't finished. 

Juan entered Beth from behind, catching her unaware and 
she gasped for breath. Again, Allan saw this and mis-
interpreted. Beth felt Juan penetrate her all the way 
until his bollocks slapped against her arse with a 
clap. He began pounding himself into her, the slapping 
noise of his scrotum combined with the noise of their 
mutual wetness echoed around the bedroom, echoed inside 
Allan's ears. This couldn't be happening to him. This 
couldn't be happening to his wife. This had to be a 
dream, a nightmare. He had to wake up in a moment. But 
still the scene in front of him continued, played out 
in front of him like they had play acted the fantasy 
over the last few weeks.

This was like the websites he'd viewed where the wife 
or girl friend was serviced by a porn star or well hung 
stud in front of cameras. But this was real. Juan's 
enormous 11 inch cock was inside his beautiful bride, 
riding her like a cheap £10 slut. Allan wanted to 
scream, cry, shout, vomit, punch, kick...caress, kiss, 
fuck.....watch.

He couldn't believe his own psyche. What was he? Man or 
mouse? He was neither. He was a voyeur. He felt 
disgusted with himself. Watching his own wife, the 
person that meant more to him than anyone else in the 
whole world, being fucked by some strange bloke she'd 
known for a couple of hours. When Beth and Allan had 
met, it had taken a few dates before they became 
intimate. And yet, here was this stranger poking his 
wife with his bare cock, within a couple of hours.

Backtrack a moment. Allan recalled his thoughts for a 
few moments. His bare cock. Shit! This local Gigolo was 
fucking his beautiful wife, bareback. No condom. Not 
only was her pussy being invaded by this alien organ, 
but it was unprotected. What if he had diseases? What 
if her contraception failed? What if....?

He put the thoughts out of his brain. Or he tried to. 
The potential consequences kept replaying over and over 
in his mind like an action replay on Sky Sports, 
reverse angle, behind the goal, the lot! But the 
thought of his lovely wife having unprotected sex 
stirred thoughts in Allan's mind and he noticed his own 
erection was as firm as it had been. This sight before 
him, his own wife was being fucked by a total stranger 
and was taking no precautions. This was certainly not 
soft swing, Allan concluded.

Beth had her eyes closed, the hope of seeing 
approaching headlights out of her thoughts. She was 
focussing on Allan again, pretending she was being 
fucked by Allan. A better endowed Allan, to be fair, 
but nevertheless, Allan. She was finding this easy, the 
amount of fantasising she'd done over recent weeks, 
she'd had sex with half of Hollywood, the premiership 
and Top of the Pops, or so it felt. 

Beth got into character. She figured that if she made 
it better for this creep who was pounding her pussy 
like a man possessed, he might hurry up and finish, 
then piss off home.

"Fuck me" she whispered, seductively. "Fuck me deeper. 
Harder" she ordered. Juan's breathing became deeper and 
she guessed her plan may be working. It seemed Juan 
liked a bit of dirty talk.

"You like?" he asked, his pigeon English adding to the 
atmosphere. Juan was taken in by Beth's excitement, her 
flirtatious attitude earlier and despite Beth's 
reluctance when they got back to the villa, Juan was 
satisfied his prey was not teasing his prick. Sure, 
he'd had to use his powers of persuasion, he often did 
with the British tourists but not this one. This hot 
chick was one horny woman.

"Mmm. Fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me till 
you cum" she whispered, her voice taking on a husky 
sound. Juan upped the ante and thrust back into her at 
a faster rate, the slapping onto her arse becoming 
faster so it sounded like an audience applauding. He 
leaned forward, reaching for her tits. She steadied 
herself, resting on her forearms, permitting Juan 
access to her breasts. He cupped her tits with both 
hands, his hips continuing to pound into her, 
perspiration dripping off his forehead onto the lumbar 
region of her bare back. His passion was building and 
he was close to climax. Beth could sense Juan's state 
of arousal and she bucked back against him.

"I want you to cum in my mouth, big boy" she whispered. 
She didn't really but she was patently aware that this 
stranger was not wearing a condom. Beth figured it was 
better off in her mouth than in her pussy. 

Allan heard this and bit his lip. Beth appeared to be 
enjoying herself. Without him. How could she do such a 
thing? Bollocks! He wondered why he ever got into the 
fantasy with another man idea. It was that dipstick at 
work's fault. He'd brain the little shit when he got 
back to Britain.

Allan had to make a move. And he had to do it now. He 
watched on.

Juan had no intention of withdrawing from Beth and as 
his pending climax approached, she realised this was an 
express train, not stopping at any stations until it 
reaches its terminal. Juan was going to fill Beth's 
pussy. 

"Let me taste you" she urged, almost crying now. "I 
need your cum in my mouth, please".

Juan released her tits and grabbed her hips, thrusting 
as deep into her as he could, he sucked in air to his 
aching lungs twice before holding his breath, his 
climax reached. 

"I'm coming" he said, his fingers digging into her hips 
making Beth unable to move. She felt the unmistakable 
sensation of Juan's monster cock ejaculating inside 
her, pumping, pumping, it seemed endless as he filled 
her pussy with his love juice, his sperm gushing into 
her body, relentlessly. 

His climax began to subside and he began to draw air in 
again, remaining deep inside Beth until every possible 
drop of semen had been deposited inside her. As he 
withdrew, he masturbated himself so any drops of semen 
in his tubes were also left inside her. Juan's cock 
left her pussy lips with a "Plop" sound and Beth 
collapsed face down on the bed, weary, shocked and 
confused. 

She'd never had sex with anyone other than Allan until 
now. She felt cheap, used and dirty. She hated herself. 
She hated Juan. She hated Allan for allowing this to 
happen. How could he, the bastard! She felt remorse. 
She'd been unfaithful to Allan. Yet she'd never stopped 
thinking about him: Never stopped loving him. She'd 
only lead this young lad on to please Allan. 

Yet strangely, she felt satisfied. She hadn't reached 
orgasm herself, yet she felt fulfilled, content and 
pleasantly warm. Her body tingled and she hated herself 
for feeling so aroused and horny. She loved her man, 
not this creep. Yet he'd not been rough with her, he'd 
had sex with her, made her feel OK. Juan's big cock had 
been an experience and she wondered how it would feel 
with her on top of him. Stop it, she chastised herself 
inwardly. You can't do it again. You mustn't. She 
glanced sideways at her new lover who was regaining his 
breath. His penis had lost some of it's stiffness but 
was still bigger than Allan, even when he was fully 
erect. It had felt nice, she said to herself, smiling 
inwardly. 

Allan had watched it all. He couldn't stand it any 
longer. He stepped backwards out of the room and on to 
the patio. He needed a drink and thought about going 
back inside and pulling a cold beer from the fridge. He 
stopped and gazed up at the sky, a clear evening with 
no clouds, a distant crescent moon and a few stars 
greeted him. Any other night, it would have looked so 
romantic, he could have cuddled up to his wife and 
taken in the natural beauty of the world and the 
universe, not needing to speak, just happy in each 
others company, feeling each others heart beats.

But tonight, all he could see was space: Emptiness. His 
world had fallen apart, having forced his fantasies 
onto his lovely, honest, caring, beautiful wife. The 
result is that she'd gone through with his fantasy, 
reluctantly at first, then she'd got into character. 
Within no time at all, she appeared to want this 
stranger to fuck her. He'd heard with his own ears, she 
wanted to taste his cum. She'd tasted Allan's cum 
before, but never begged for it. And seldom had she 
asked to be 'fucked'. He had turned her into a cheap 
tart? It was all his fault. He'd been so happy. They'd 
both been so happy.

"Bollocks" he said out loud. He wanted to scream out 
loud but he didn't have the energy. The emotional 
turmoil had really taken the wind out of his sails. He 
looked at the floor and kicked a piece of gravel into 
the nearby pool. It fell in with a 'plop' sound and 
Allan was transported back to their bedroom where, only 
minutes earlier, a similar sound had emanated from his 
darling wife's pussy, courtesy of some one else's 
prick.

He wondered if the guy had been on steroids or some 
other body enhancing chemicals to enable his cock to be 
so large. Could Beth ever be satisfied with his tiddler 
again? Allan knew he was above average size, but his 
ego had been severely dented at his wife begging to be 
fucked by this monster sized cock.

Allan wondered why he hadn't just stepped in. He 
couldn't answer his own question. He had been appalled 
by the sight, yet strangely curious. Curious to what, 
he wondered? His brain searched unsuccessfully for some 
solution, some rationale behind his apathy. How could 
he be curious if he knew the outcome would be full 
sexual intercourse, ending only in John's own climax 
whilst his penis was still inside Beth? It was 
inevitable, really, he supposed.

He could have stopped it. But somehow, it was different 
than looking at a website, this was real. It was too 
real, however, as it involved his own dear wife.

"His own dear wife". The sentence ricocheted around his 
head. God, how must she be feeling? Allan knew he'd 
really let her down and wondered if she would ever 
forgive him. Could he forgive her for being so...what? 
Tartish? Slutty? Easy? 

He, Allan, had convinced her to do that. He'd sent the 
bloody text messages to her, for Christ's sake. But she 
could have fought back a bit harder, couldn't she. She 
could have said no with more conviction, couldn't she?

"You arse hole" he muttered to himself. He had to go 
back in, to speak with her to apologise. He had to make 
amends. He could forgive (although he may not be able 
to forget) and hoped that Beth could, too.

Allan stepped back through the patio and detoured via 
the kitchen, taking a bottle of cold beer from the 
fridge and taking a large gulp. Allan walked back 
towards the bedroom and heard noises, the bed squeaking 
and two voices. That dodgy little shit was still there, 
Allan concluded. 

He approached the bedroom door, expecting to see the 
Spaniard dressing and preparing to leave. Allan wasn't 
prepared for what he was about to see.

Juan was still naked, sporting a fresh erection. In 
reality, his previous erection had never really ended. 
Juan was laid on their bed facing the ceiling. Nothing 
wrong with that, initially, other than he was 
outstaying his welcome. Allan wanted him to leave. 
Beth, it appeared, had other ideas. She was squatting 
beside his hips and Allan saw her take Juan's enormous 
penis in her hand. Beth stroked Juan's enormous love 
organ, endeavouring to get her entire hand around the 
girth of the monster. She slowly masturbated the 
Spaniard who was laying on his back with his eyes shut, 
a pillow under his greasy black hair. She lowered her 
mouth towards Juan's erection, brushing her hair away 
from the purple head of Juan's throbbing dick, her 
tongue reaching out tentatively at first then, having 
made contact, more greedily. She licked and sucked 
Juan's cock as she wanked him, pulling his foreskin 
back and forth, making his cock rock hard again. Allan 
watched as Beth rolled her tongue around the inside of 
Juan's foreskin b
efore disengaging. Beth started to tease herself with 
Juan's enlarged organ, rubbing it against her sopping 
wet pussy lips before she guided it towards her open 
wet pussy, lowering her self onto him giving out an 
enormous sigh as he entered her.

Allan stood stationery, transfixed as he saw his own 
sweet wife mount this stranger who she'd known for so 
little time and had only just fucked her. Without 
protection! Again!

Allan could not believe his eyes as she took every 
millimetre of Juan's cock into her pussy, writhing 
around on his firmness which went so deep into her, 
Allan wondered if Juan's cock was pressing against her 
lungs. Judging by her breathing, he guessed maybe it 
was! 

Beth moved up and down on Juan's massive and still 
undressed erection, riding him like a cowboy. She 
sported a grin indicating she was enjoying the 
sensations and for a couple of moments, Allan could 
have sworn she wanted to be fucked by this stranger 
with a massive dick. Allan wondered if she had secretly 
yearned to sow the wild oats she never got the chance 
to do before she met and married him. Well, she 
certainly appeared to be making up for lost time, given 
the vigour of her fucking of Juan.

Beth's eyes were closed and she whispered something but 
Allan was unable to make out what she was saying. Juan, 
who had his hands behind his head, moved his hands up 
to Beth's lovely tits which were bouncing gently like 
leaves in an autumn breeze. Beth's eyes remained closed 
but her lips continued to move, as though saying some 
silent chant. Her smile remained as she rode the 
Spaniard's massive cock.

Beth, however, was still in character. In her own mind, 
she was playing out the fantasy with her own husband, 
transposing Allan's name with some one else's. Her 
mind, in order to protect her self from the 
psychological trauma, had set up some sort of barrier, 
shutting out the real character, seeing only Allan, 
believing it was Allan. Only today, instead of being 
Rooney, Clooney or a Looney, it was Juan.

"Mmm" Beth murmured, seductively in the way only Beth 
could. "I want you to fuck me, Juan. Let me ride you, 
let me fuck you. I want you to make me cum, you horny 
fucking stud and I want your cum inside me. Fill my 
pussy. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me!" 

Beth's cheesy grin remained as Allan looked on. To 
Beth, she conjured up the image of this gargantuan 
penis being similar to chocolate and the suggestion 
echoed around her brain. Beth considered that she 
really shouldn't toy with Juan's massive cock but what 
the heck? Naughty but nice! It would be like 
celebrating Christmas and Birthday together? And, deep 
down, that is exactly where she craved this Spaniard's 
humungous cock. Deep down inside her warm, wet aching 
pussy; as deep as it could go.

Allan was pretty tough but his stomach began to churn 
and an overpowering sensation of wanting to vomit hit 
him like a wave. The feeling passed swiftly but the 
image in front of him remained. Allan shut his eyes but 
the image remained like it had been burnt on to his 
retinas. The sound of the bed gently bouncing mingled 
with Beth's gentle murmurings and their breathing 
noises, which were gradually increasing in depth. Still 
Beth continued her whispering and even with his eyes 
shut tight, Allan could still see her lips move, her 
hips jiggle over Juan's hips, her breasts being gently 
caressed by this stranger, her buttocks rippled gently 
as her hips bounced against Juan's podgy hips.

Allan's world was in ruins. His emotions could have 
been twinned with Beirut, such was the damage. Allan 
realised it was all his own doing. He wanted to leave, 
to get as far away from the reality as he could. If he 
couldn't see it, maybe it hadn't happened, he thought. 
But how could he go and leave his dear Bethany behind 
with this young, spotty, olive skinned creep. OK, so he 
had a big dick, was younger and maybe his local accent 
made him more sexy, but Allan could still offer Beth a 
lot.

Could he, though? He wondered if he'd ever be able to 
satisfy Beth again with his penis. Would he want to 
with all that alien semen in her pussy? It might not 
have been so bad if the creep had worn a condom, but 
without it, it all seemed so...dirty: cheap, even.

Allan laughed to himself, although there was no humour 
in it. Just irony.

His ears pricked up. What was that? Beth continued to 
chant.

"...fuck me,.....me, fuck me...nn,.....me, fuck 
me...nn.....inside me" he couldn't quite make out what 
she was saying. He wondered if he should venture 
further into the room but he decided it was best, for 
now, to stay put, watching from the doorway. Neither of 
them had seen him, his presence undetected.

"...n, fuck me...nnn...inside me, fuck me...nn..." she 
went on. Then the reality hit him.

"...Juan, fuck me, come inside me. Juan, fuck me, come 
inside me..." Beth chanted like some strange Pagan 
ritual as the stranger thrust his manhood deep into her 
well lubricated and fully stretched cunt. Although Beth 
was imagining being fucked by Allan, all Allan could 
her was his dearly beloved begging to be fucked by 
Juan, for the little shit to spill his seed inside her 
welcoming cunt. Beth was being true to Allan in her own 
mind. But how could she with Juan's dick in her pussy, 
though? 

A burning sensation started in Allan's eyes, and at 
first he thought he was about to cry but it was the 
increase in blood pressure, the anger making his eyes 
"See red" as it were. His anger was at Beth for 
shagging this bastard. No, his anger was at Juan for 
having got into his wife's knickers in the first place. 
No, his anger was at himself for being such an idiot. 
Fuck it! Who was he angry at? Allan had so many 
questions in his head and so few answers. He wondered 
if he could go 50/50 or maybe phone a friend. One thing 
was for sure, he would get no response it he asked this 
audience, his own wife and the suntanned kid who were 
fucking each other like demented rabbits.

Allan stopped and his mind halted, mid thought. He'd 
sown a few wild oats before he'd met Beth. Was it not 
fair that she should have an opportunity? Allan had 
experienced sex previously before his marriage, Beth 
hadn't. This would level things up. And, judging by her 
actions, she still loved him. In her own mind, she was 
fucking Allan, not Juan. But that's not what it sounded 
like to Allan.

Beth was lost in her own world, still. Her body needed 
that big cock again, just for the experience and she 
needed release and Allan, as far as she knew, was not 
around. She didn't want to be screwed by this 
foreigner, he was just there and she was using him 
every bit as he was using her. And in order for this to 
happen, she was using her imagination, pretence, 
fantasising. After all, that's what Allan had wanted, 
she had evolved under Allan's direction to this cock 
craving slut to fulfil his, not her, fantasies. It had 
been his idea, so living the fantasy must be OK, she 
thought to herself.

She moved herself with more vigour, touching herself, 
stimulating her clitoris, building up to a crescendo, 
wanting physical release, to discharge the pressure, to 
fuck and be fucked, to climax. She bounced up and down 
on Juan's cock, faster and faster, her fingers rubbing 
her clit continuously, her mind still convincing 
herself that she was fucking her own husband. Juan 
moved his body in unison with Beth, rising up as she 
pressed down, maximising the penetration. Beth's 
moaning intensified.

"Juan, fuck me, make me cum. Juan, fuck me, make me 
cum..." she went on, almost spitting the words out as 
her actions sped up. Beth's play acting continued. Juan 
had no idea she was play acting, he believed she really 
wanted his cock, his monster cock. He'd had plenty of 
women before, mostly British tourists and he'd seldom 
had complaints about size. He hadn't stuck around long 
enough to ascertain if he'd pleasured the woman with 
his technique, he hadn't been interested. For all he 
knew, he could well have impregnated dozens of willing 
women, seldom wearing a condom, figuring the British 
girls were clean but always wearing a condom with 
European or American girls. And never before had he had 
a woman as beautiful as this one, or as wild, riding 
his cock like some demented cow girl.

"Give me all your cock. Fuck me, fuck me, big boy. Make 
me cum. Fuck me harder, make...me...cum..." she 
muttered as her climax approached. Her hip movements 
increased with vigour and her breathing rate increased.

"Juan, oh... fuck...me...Oh, shitttttt...I'm... 
cumming" she gasped as she tumbled over into her 
temporary oblivion, her muscles, nerves and everything 
tingling all over, her legs and thighs turning to jelly 
for a few moments as the climax affected every single 
cell in her being. Beth felt the tension of Juan's 
hands on her erect nipples as her climax subsided, his 
tweaking of them was the only stimulation she'd had 
from him, other than almost 11 inches of cock inside 
her pussy.

Beth collapsed, exhausted both physically and mentally, 
drawing in breath with great gulps, her pulse 120 .

Juan was almost ready to release his second load, her 
recent rigorous fucking of him bringing him close to 
cumming. He tried to pull her back on to him but she 
was not responding. Beth had gone into a state of 
temporary unconsciousness, her mind trying to block out 
the memory as a safety measure. Her body was a dead 
weight, as limp as Allan's cock after 3 bottles of 
vodka.

Juan was not about to be beaten by her tiredness and he 
rolled her over on the bed. Beth ended face down, her 
conscious level down to zero. Juan took the opportunity 
to spread her legs and, at first, Allan thought Juan 
was going to do her doggy style again, like he had 
earlier. Instead, he fingered her pussy, making his 
fingers wet with her own juices, then spread them over 
her rectum. Beth was so out of it, she didn't even 
flinch.

"Oh, holy shit!" Allan whispered to himself as Juan 
directed his 11 inch unprotected cock towards her arse 
hole. Beth was totally unconscious and muscles relaxed, 
making Juan's entry relatively easy, even with a cock 
of his magnitude, Allan put his hand to his mouth in 
disbelief as Beth's arse was plundered. Juan was not 
being gentle any more, he had a climax due and he was 
going to get it. Other than Juan's heavy breathing, the 
only other sound Allan could hear was a slurping sound 
of eleven inches of Spanish meat being driven into his 
sweet wife's back side. Allan noticed that he still 
sported his own raging hard on in his beer stained 
jeans and it ached, throbbed for his wife. He wanted to 
fuck his own wife but there was no room at the Inn, it 
was being monopolised by Juan.

"Oh, shit. I cum" the Spaniard said and he swiftly 
removed himself from her bottom, turning Beth over onto 
her back. Allan expected the dirty bastard to come all 
over his wife's tits or maybe, even, over or in her 
mouth. Allan was again disappointed.

Juan rammed his full length cock which, seconds earlier 
had been in Beth's rectum back in to Beth's Vagina 
which, by now, was red raw through abuse. Juan laid on 
top of her and put her legs over his shoulders, using 
one hand to squeeze a tit, his mouth pressed against 
Beth's, his tongue exploring her tongue, teeth and 
tonsils. 

"I like fuck you" Juan said through his laboured breath 
between kisses, his dodgy European accent adding to the 
sleazy-ness. Despite Beth's lack of consciousness, Juan 
still spoke in English.

"I like fuck you. I like cum in you..." he stuttered, 
his body reaching another climax and, again, he spilt 
his seed into her waiting pussy, filling her again.

"I white wash your womb, bitch!" he said as he came, 
his enormous cock pumping itself into her, again 
ensuring every drop of his sperm was left inside this 
beautiful woman. Juan withdrew and Allan could see the 
Spaniard's wet cock pulsating, even from the other side 
of the room. Allan was still awe struck at the size of 
the Spaniard, but thought Juan's final action was a 
little unnecessary. Beth had given the dodgy foreigner 
what he wanted, there was no need for profanity or 
verbal abuse.

Beth lay sleeping on the bed, her vagina leaking Juan's 
white semen onto the bed clothes. Juan repossessed his 
clothes and dressed, not before picking up Beth's 
handbag and emptying the contents, finding her purse 
and helping himself to the paper money.

Allan stood back from the bedroom door, his beer bottle 
now empty, having drained the contents whilst the dirty 
dog was dressing. Juan turned to face Beth, blowing her 
a kiss as he did.

"You not a bad fuck..." he said, giggling as he spoke, 
"...but I've had better." 

Juan didn't remember much after that, the empty Stella 
bottle over the back of the head was enough to make 
Juan loose consciousness. Allan hadn't a clue why he'd 
done that there and then. He now had to dispose of an 
unconscious local lad. He hoped he hadn't done too much 
permanent damage, but wasn't too fussed if he had. 
Allan's emotions had over-spilled and right now, he 
wanted to get even. Juan had left Beth unconscious and 
exchange was no robbery. Luckily, Allan was pretty fit, 
so he dragged the lad out on the patio and across the 
pool area. All the other villa's were in darkness and 
Allan knew he would not be spotted. A large commercial 
rubbish bin was just the job and Allan loaded the 
unconscious lad into the bin, a fireman's lift was all 
that was needed.

***

Back in the villa, Allan cuddled up to his dear sweet 
wife. She slept deeply, physically and emotionally 
shattered. He could smell the sex on her, her own sweet 
aroma mixed with Juan's oily skin and what appeared to 
have been a gallon of cum dribbling out of her pussy 
like treacle off a spoon. Allan had closed the blinds 
and locked the doors, wanting only to go to sleep with 
his wife. God, the scene had been a horny one to watch, 
life shattering, but horny, none the less. Allan 
undressed and climbed on the bed next to his dear 
lovely wife. He kissed her tenderly.

"I love you" he whispered, writing the letters "ILY" on 
her forehead with his index finger as he spoke. Allan 
was still sporting a hard on. 

He cuddled Beth, feeling her naked warmth against his 
own skin, a dark stain on the outside of his briefs 
where the tip of his own cock was leaking pre-cum. He 
gently touched her pussy, noticing how slimy and 
lubricated sperm made the vagina feel. Allan removed 
his boxers, rubbing the juices from Beth's pussy over 
his own cock, feeling the sticky-ness against his own 
firm erection.

Instinct took over and Allan mounted his sleeping wife, 
entering her gently, kissing her brow as his hips 
thrust gently into hers. He could feel little friction 
or resistance, her cunt had been stretched to the 
maximum and the slimy-ness of the cum making Beth's 
vagina feel lubricated to the extreme. Allan had never 
experienced "Sloppy seconds" and had often wondered 
what it might feel like. His curiosity had got the 
better of him and he was now experiencing the sensation 
and, despite the revulsion of the lubricant being 
another person's sperm, Allan was enjoying the 
sensation.

Allan then replayed the vision of Beth fucking that 
monster cock in his own mind and, very soon, his own 
body could take no more stimulation, climaxing inside 
his beautiful wife as he had done so many times before 
but this time, knowing he was not the only one to have 
experienced her special delights or to have ejaculated 
inside her. He may have been the first person ever to 
have fucked her, but he wasn't the first to fuck her 
tonight. Allan just wished she'd been awake, so he 
could hear her beg for his own, more modest erection.

Allan removed himself from Beth, his own dick covered 
in a combination of several people's love juices. His 
imagination was in overdrive and in Allan's mind, he 
thought maybe Beth's pussy had the capacity to hold 
several gallons of spunk. Whatever the capacity was, it 
was probably greater now, what with the stretching it 
had experienced from the gigantic cock she'd had inside 
her. 

He carried his wife to the bathroom and gave her a 
gentle warm shower, hosing her more private areas to 
remove as much evidence of the Spaniard as possible. 
Allan turned the bed sheets over to hide the stains 
before putting her gently into bed. Allan cuddled up to 
his wife with a protective arm over her. From now on, 
nothing would harm her, as long as he had breath in his 
body. Exhaustion soon enveloped Allan and they both 
slept soundly.


Chapter 6
---------

The sea lapped up to the shore as they sat on the sun 
loungers, the shade of a parasol reducing the heat a 
little. Raybans hid the bags beneath the eyes of both 
of them and the bikini that Allan loved so much was now 
in the bin. Neither of them wanted reminders of the 
experience. 

The lad had not returned and this was hardly 
surprising. Juan had robbed Beth so it was unlikely he 
was going to go to the local police. Beth had only been 
willing because of his persistent manner and she could 
argue he'd raped her. Allan hadn't the inclination to 
rummaging through Juan's pockets to repossess Beth's 
money and just wanted the scum bag out of their villa 
and out of their life.

They were both looking forward to returning home, too. 
A return to normality would be most welcome. Allan 
wondered if the road sign for Snitterfield had been 
replaced yet, the graffiti where someone had tried to 
turn the "n" to an "h" had always made him smile 
whenever he'd visited Stratford Upon Avon. It had been 
like that for years and doubted it would ever be 
changed. He wondered if the sickly chocolate smell 
still wafted over Bourneville from the Cadbury factory 
when the wind was in the wrong direction. Or if there 
was still a load of people dogging on Cannock Chase 
after dark. Somehow, he doubted the rest of the world 
had changed as much as his own. A week may be a long 
time in politics, it was no different in his own life 
or even his own marriage.

Beth and Allan continued the conversation they'd had 
over the previous day or two since their "experience" 
and subsequent altercation. A catalogue of errors, mis-
communication and circumstances had lead to the 
situation. Allan had apologised profusely to Beth and 
she to him. They both pledged their love for each other 
and vowed that, from now on, they'd be happy with each 
other. They didn't need anything or anyone else and 
from now on, fantasies were taboo. Allan had really 
enjoyed the experience but had simultaneously been 
repulsed at a total stranger ravishing his wife. 

Despite what she said and how she acted, Beth had also 
enjoyed parts of the experience. She had never stopped 
loving Allan, nor had she ever stopped imagining she 
was being fucked by Allan. But to have a strange penis 
inside her, one of that length and girth had really 
opened her eyes to life and now she wouldn't have to 
wonder ever again. Fantasies could now be based on 
fact, on history. That is if she was ever up for 
playing the fantasy game again.

The odd niggle would surface occasionally. Allan had 
explained that had remained motionless during the 
experience because he didn't know what to do or how 
Beth would react, which was why he hadn't stepped in 
and stopped the situation escalating. Beth had 
explained that she was so turned on waiting for Allan 
to make love to her, she needed to make love or 
masturbate. She hadn't intended to allow Juan to re-
enter her, just to use his rod to masturbate with until 
Allan had arrived. She had desperately wanted just to 
masturbate but her body betrayed her, one little thrust 
wouldn't hurt. She'd got carried away and not stopped. 
But she was imagining Allan, never stopped pretending 
it was Allan. In their fantasy role plays, she'd 
pretended Allan was some one else but she knew it was 
Allan. This was the reverse. Although, there had been a 
period where she was lost in the moment, forgetting 
about Allan temporarily, enjoying the size of something 
she'd never previously experienced. That had been 
something fantasy could never replace irrespective how 
many sex toys they experimented with. The real thing 
was the real thing, nothing could compare. Allan had 
understood, hurtful though it was.

Both seemed relatively content and despite being very 
sore, she and Allan made love, a reaffirmation of their 
feelings towards each other.

Allan still had one reservation and he desperately 
wanted an answer. Beth wanted to forget about the 
subject, put it behind them but Allan and Beth had a 
common trait, they were both strong willed. Eventually, 
Beth conceded.

"What do you want to say?" she asked, crossing her arms 
defensively. Allan sighed.

"It's just..." he started, beginning to feel quite 
embarrassed, "...he was...you know...a big lad: Bigger 
than me. Was he better than me...you know..."

Beth smiled. 

"Are you feeling inadequate?" she said, smirking. Allan 
nodded, bowing his head like a child who'd been told 
off by his teacher. Beth held his chin with her hand 
and made him look at her.

"I love you, Allan" she said. "Not had any complaints 
with you yet" she smiled. "Apart from leaving the 
toilet seat up, leaving your dirty socks outside the 
laundry basket, your screen saver of Shania Twain and 
another couple of hundred minor misdemeanours" she 
joked. Allan poked her playfully in the ribs. They 
chuckled a little, then a pregnant pause.

"Did it feel...different?" he asked. Beth's smile 
faded.

"How do you mean?" Beth questioned, glancing away from 
him. She was glad the Raybans hid her eye movements, 
she didn't want Allan to see any doubts in her eyes. 
She, herself, was having trouble understanding her own 
emotions, how she could have had sex with someone other 
than her own husband. Beth took a subtle but deep 
breath whilst Allan did his beetroot impression, his 
own embarrassment rising.

"You know" Allan mumbled.

"Yeah. It did feel different" she said, returning her 
gaze at her husband. Allan looked hurt. Beth took his 
hand and smiled at him.

"It didn't feel like you. That was the difference. It 
didn't feel like you because it wasn't you. Do you 
understand?" She raised her shades so he could see her 
eyes, see how genuine she was being.

Allan shook his head. He was totally lost in this 
conversation.

"Allan? Look at me" Beth commanded. Allan slowly raised 
his head and looked into her big brown eyes. He saw 
compassion, love and honesty in them.

"Let me ask you a question? Did you fancy that blond 
woman you spilt your drink over, the one with big..."

"Yeah, I know the one" Allan said, interrupting her. 
"No. I didn't fancy her"

"But she had massive..." Beth put her hands out in 
front of her bosom, her body language endeavouring to 
accentuate the size of the other girl's bust, lowering 
her sun glasses over her eyes again.

"Big isn't necessarily beautiful" Allan said, again 
interrupting her and searching Beth's eyes for some 
understanding, frustrated by his own reflection in her 
shades. Beth smiled "Exactly" she said. "He was big in 
the trouser area but it hurt like hell at times and 
although there were parts that were...shall we say, 
less unpleasant, he was useless in bed. His technique 
was to ram it in and hope for the best. He relied on 
his size to stimulate, he didn't try to turn me on. 
You, Allan, you know how to use it, how to make me 
crave for more. I'd rather you made love to me a 
million times than him make love to me once. I like to 
feel loved. You do that."

Allan's concerned face mellowed a little. He could 
understand the love bit. He could understand the 
painful bit. He could even understand the technique 
bit.

"But you said some of it was less unpleasant..." he 
began, realising he was now being very insecure.

"Trust me" Beth said. "Anyway, guys with smaller dicks 
have to work a bit harder to turn the woman on". Beth 
was sounding like a woman of great experience and Allan 
wondered what he'd turned his delicious and relatively 
innocent wife into. She continued "You have the 
technique. You see, there is some mileage in having 
some experience and I'm glad you have it. If I have to 
live with you for the rest of our lives, I want you to 
satisfy me in bed. After all, I wouldn't go to a 
medical student for an operation, I'd go to an 
experienced surgeon. If I want great sex, I want a man 
who's had a bit of experience. That's another thing I 
love about you" she said, placing her lips against his. 
Allan understood Beth and she now had experience. She'd 
been exposed to a lover of greater proportions and 
although he was an ugly little shit (Allan hadn't 
fancied him!) he was certainly substantial. That 
disturbed Allan yet, simultaneously, it also excited 
him. 

"But..." Allan began. His sentence was cut short by 
Beth's tongue invading his mouth.

"Not another word" she whispered between kisses. "Now, 
take me home and make love to me" she said, continuing 
with her kissing. They stood and held hands, walking 
across the sand towards the villa, the breeze failing 
miserably to reduce the heat they felt on their bodies 
from the hot Mediterranean sun.

"And after you've made love to me..." she said, 
reaching for his buttocks and giving his bum a playful 
squeeze, "I want you to fuck me!" There was a short 
pause.

"And no fantasies this time" Beth added.

Allan knew he would be able to oblige: This time.

But next time, who knows? Would either of them want to 
experiment again? Could fantasies ever be the same 
again? 

Judging by the wry smile on Beth's face and the strange 
feelings of perverse enjoyment within Allan's mind, 
maybe only time would tell.


Chapter 7
---------

Allan and Beth continued to enjoy their two weeks away. 
Ibiza was always one of their favourite haunts. They 
both worked very hard and so it was only natural that 
they played hard, too and the break was much needed by 
both of them. The warm Mediterranean sun had warmed 
their skin and lifted their spirits and despite the 
continual party environment, the atmosphere between 
Beth and Allan had altered. Allan was having trouble 
putting his finger on it, the change in Beth somewhat 
subtle yet, conversely, definite. 

There had been a shift in attitude that Allan had 
noticed since Beth's involvement with Juan just a few 
days earlier. Beth had always enjoyed the attention 
she'd received, guys hitting on her in almost every 
situation imaginable, something that had happened to 
her since she hit puberty. To that effect, Beth had 
grown almost immune to it, enjoying the attention, her 
ego boosted by the inner knowledge that guys found her 
attractive and sexy. Beth had learned to capitalize on 
the attention, often going out for an entire evening 
and spending nothing more than her cab fare.

Yet despite Beth's experience of warding off the guys, 
beating them off with a shitty stick, her confidence 
had grown. Allan had noticed her over the last few 
days, his wife had experienced another man, a well 
endowed man and had received a mountain of attention. 
At first she had rebelled against it, rejected Juan 
before pretending he were her own wonderful husband. 

But then, things progressed further than she imagined 
and she'd ended up having full sex with this total 
stranger. Despite Beth's loyalty and unrelenting love 
for Allan, she had allowed this stranger to take her, 
to have unprotected sex with her and, if that hadn't 
been bad enough for Allan to witness, she had then 
taken the lead and fucked this stranger again, riding 
him like some porno star and again, without protection.

Allan had discussed the matter with Beth, they both 
knew their relationship had changed, move to another 
plane from which there could be no going back. They 
either had to live with it or cut their losses and 
separate. Both had pledged their undying love to each 
other, and despite their marriage vows, "keeping only 
unto thee as long as you both shall live", there was an 
unwritten agreement that both parties had been wrong, 
Allan for having coerced Beth into having sex out of 
wedlock in the first place, Beth for having agreed and 
then progressing the matter further, taking Juan again 
after he'd had his way with her.

Beth had felt different although she had not admitted 
the fact to Allan, as that might be misconstrued as a 
sign of guilt. Sure, she'd lost control a bit but she 
felt that, in her defence, the opportunity to be fucked 
with an 11 inch cock was something she just couldn't 
let pass her by, she might never get another chance. 
Yet emotionally, Allan was all she needed and all she 
wanted. But the power she'd experienced had really 
opened her eyes. 

Until now, she'd used the power to save her money in 
pubs and clubs, to get pissed on a shoe string as it 
were. But after her recent experience with Juan, it had 
dawned on her that maybe she could have more fun, not 
just prick teasing but taking the guy (or guys – the 
image made Beth smile) beyond, making him want her and 
she, Beth, having the power to make his day or ruin his 
life. 

She absent mindedly rolled her wedding ring up and down 
her ring finger like she was masturbating a man's 
erection, lost in her own world within her mind. Her 
inner sexuality had been awakened and it was addictive, 
she suddenly realized she wanted more than just Allan. 
It had been 4 days since she had been fucked by Juan. 
Conversely, it had also been 4 days since she had 
reciprocated, she had fucked the Spaniard, her mind 
remembering only her role play, lost in the pretence 
and blissfully unaware of how wild she had acted, as 
wild as any evening when she'd had a pep from some "E."

Consequently, Beth had toyed with the boys to an extent 
that had surpised Allan. In fact, even their own love 
making had changed. To the voyeur, there may have been 
no noticeable difference, still as wild and intense, 
their actions hungry and demanding, yet subtly there 
were all sorts of changes. Beth had changed from 
demanding Allan make love to her, instead demanding now 
to be fucked. 

Beth had barely noticed her slow but definite 
evolution, almost like the changing of seasons where 
the weather gradually changes, a degree or so 
difference every few days and, before you know it, 
ground frost becomes sunshine. To Beth, she was still 
in spring, not realizing she was in summer mode and 
that she had changed, had become more confident, taking 
the lead in their sexual encounters, any shyness well 
and truly dissolved. 

This had emanated into her attitude when they had gone 
clubbing, proactively engaging in conversation, taking 
the lead, flirting as though her life depended on it. 
Beth had caught the bug. She had the power, her sexy 
curvaceous body, her confident manner and her come-to-
bed eyes were able to melt even the strongest willed 
hot-blooded male. To that extent, Beth was patently 
aware, she felt more confident, she felt sexy and she 
loved that feeling. She loved the attention, more so 
than before and whereas she might have discouraged the 
guys hitting on her, now she was flaunting her self, 
advertising almost. But why?

Beth had still been unable to work out her motivations. 
OK, it had been Allan's idea for her to flirt, to lead 
the guy on and she had done it solely for Allan, her 
husband. Beth had felt disgusted with herself 
initially, the thought of having gone "all the way" 
with Juan and having been unfaithful to Allan who, by 
her own admission, she still loved dearly. Yet she had 
been so turned on, so aroused partly due to her and 
Allan role playing the swinging scene over the last few 
months. 

It was because of this that she had become so turned 
on, so aroused and so horny that she wanted just to 
have sex, to feel the release of tension that only a 
climax could offer. In Allan's absence, Beth had gone 
into autopilot, so to speak, and Juan's enormous 
erection had been in the right place at the right time. 
Beth had suggested to Allan, very politely, "any port 
in a storm" although, in reality, Beth would have gone 
ape-shit if Allan had done the dirty on her.

Yet because Beth had imagined Juan's cock was Allan's, 
it had taken the edge off the unfaithfulness, made it 
seem OK and, as the idea had been initiated by Allan, 
her part in the whole affair had been minimal. She had 
tried to convince herself, and Allan, that it was all 
OK yet she knew Juan had been really turned on by her. 
Not just her pretty face, her curvaceous body and her 
sexy legs, but her attitude, her sexy dirty talk, her 
wildness between the sheets and general aura of being 
horny. Add to this the adrenalin rush she'd enjoyed 
looking at Juan as he had entered her, his look of 
delight, of satisfaction and total arousal. 

Despite the fact Beth had been mentally in role play 
mode, she still had her wits about her, her powers of 
observation not deserting her. She had witnessed, first 
hand, Juan's excitement at Beth as she had sucked his 
cock, permitted him access to her soaking wet pussy, 
the passion as he had fucked her, their pleasure 
mutual, Juan's eyes melting as his climax built, 
exploding in her pussy, cumming inside her, filling her 
pussy with his alien semen.

Despite being unconscious for his second cumming, she 
had experienced her own climax on his monster sized 
erection, his rough pubic hair stimulating her 
clitoris, her pussy stretched beyond her wildest 
imagination. Beth had found Juan's cock an amazing 
experience, her previously limited sexual encounters 
had never unearthed anything of this magnitude before. 

She and Allan had visited adult websites and had seen 
some images of humungous penis' but she had always 
believed it was nothing more than trick photography. 
How could these things vary in size? She considered her 
female colleagues at work, all with varying bust sizes 
and realized that there could be some variation but 
without surgery, could a guy really be that big? 

Personal experience now told her it could. What a way 
to find out.

Yet cock size was not necessarily her goal, although it 
had been very fulfilling (it had fully filled her 
anyway she thought to herself inwardly), it was more 
the desire of other guys to want her, to physically 
want her. She had come to realize that it had always 
been there, guys had always wanted to screw the pants 
off her but she never realized the extent of this 
desire and now she had experienced it, she wanted more. 
Lots more. It had been fun.

Beth had relived the experience, role playing with 
Allan in such a way that he thought she was making up 
for her infidelity. In reality, Beth was play acting 
how she might arouse other men, how she might develop 
the prick teasing and how she would enjoy having her 
husband later. Her actions had become greater, more 
passionate and Allan had enjoyed the change in Beth yet 
he also feared what he was making her in to. Was he 
making her some sort of slut? Beth was his dear lovely 
wife, how could he make her into some cock-craving 
tart? What sort of shit-bag was he? 

He recalled how he had witnessed Juan entering his wife 
for the very first time, how disgusted he had felt yet 
so aroused. He'd stood stationary, absorbing the image 
before him like he was just a fly on the wall, watching 
some documentary on the TV. It had been an ironic 
realization that he'd felt powerless whilst Beth had 
felt powerful, the balance of power tipping in her 
direction, rather like some distorted political debate. 
Yet Beth had also become powerless as Juan had ravished 
her, her autopilot coming into effect to protect her 
own emotions and guilt.

Allan pondered the consequences. On the plus side, Beth 
had become wilder in bed, more daring and adventurous, 
like constantly having some "E." God, she'd become 
hornier than ever and he'd never had such a great time. 
Allan could safely say that their sex lives had never 
been better and the thoughts of her with some one else 
made him crave her even more. He desperately wanted to 
see Beth flirting, coming on to a guy, teasing him, 
arousing him in the same way she had with Juan. 

On the down side, she was not the same woman he'd 
married, her reservations and innocence lost, blown 
away in the wind. She'd grown closer to her own 
sexuality and Allan feared she may find the need for 
strangers cocks greater than the need for his own cock. 
Could he lose her? Would she want more than he could 
offer? Or was he panicking unnecessarily, that his 
fears were overtaking his rational thinking?

Allan knew whatever Beth decided, he couldn't help but 
love her and that his love for Beth was unconditional. 
He was also 100% positive Beth's love was unconditional 
which was just as well as Allan was dreaming up another 
scheme. He had been so disgusted with Beth when she was 
with Juan yet, simultaneously, in awe of her. She had 
given Allan what he'd dreamed of, a living fantasy. 
Beth had performed what fairy godmothers are supposed 
to do, delivering a dream, "His" dream of his own dear 
wife being screwed by another whilst he watched. Allan 
knew that his dream also secretly consisted of her 
reciprocating, "fucking back" if you like and Beth had 
certainly delivered that, no doubt about it. 

Consequently, Allan had unknowingly become more 
passionate himself, his love making having more 
purpose, his mind imagining that night, just a few days 
earlier, when Beth had had her experience with Juan. 
Beth had also enjoyed Allan's increased passion, loving 
her with greater intensity, fucking her like he meant 
it, trying to make Beth want no one else but him. And 
to a certain extent, Beth didn't want anyone else but 
Allan. He was loving, caring, thoughtful, good looking 
and, at this moment in time, fantastic in bed. 

Yet still they both hankered for something else, an 
additional element which only a third person could 
offer. Was he becoming Cuckold? Somehow, he didn't 
think so.

Allan and Beth continued to enjoy their holiday, both 
aware that there were things in each others heads that 
had not been discussed and needed to brought out into 
the open. They both guessed the other was still 
dwelling on the Juan situation, the excitement and the 
angst yet neither wanted to be the first to resurrect 
the matter.

To make matters more complex, both characters were very 
strong willed, neither prepared to give an inch yet, 
perversely, never wanting the other to feel oppressed. 

Beth had decided that it would be down to her to 
approach the matter and in much the same way Allan 
worked, she too had devised a plan.

It was the night before Allan's birthday and they had 
been out, the vodka's had been flowing a little too 
freely and Beth was a little on the giggly side. 
Dressed in a flimsy skirt and baggy top, revealing her 
sexy cleavage, they'd partied for a while but had left 
the club early, returning to the villa to party on 
their own. Beth had initially been disappointed as she 
had been getting into the groove, as they say. 

She loved to dance, using the opportunity to display 
her sexiness and get a work out at the same time. More 
to the point, it gave her the opportunity to flirt 
which, in return, would make her hornier. Allan had 
lost count how many times they'd left a club having 
danced the night away, to Beth home to find her 
knickers soaking wet and tonight, not surprisingly, she 
was no different. The evening was very warm and despite 
the heat, her nipples protruded through her clothing 
and Allan though how lovely she looked. 

He put some music on the CD player and the beat began, 
Beth wasting no time and dancing straight away. She had 
always enjoyed dancing, even as a little girl, and she 
had all the moves, the latest dance moves down to all 
the cheesy ones like "Macarena" and so forth. No matter 
how cheesy the song, Allan could just sit and watch her 
dance all night, her hips swaying and his mind 
imagining those hips hovering over his own, lowering 
herself onto him, impaling herself on his erection. He 
guessed that with all the awards and prizes she'd won 
over the years for her dancing, she'd probably dance to 
anything and he could picture her dancing with Darren 
Gough on the TV and winning.

But more importantly, he was dancing with her here and 
now and she looked damn hot. They'd enjoyed a bit of 
"E" earlier and, as always, it always made them both 
fucking horny. Beth had always enjoyed the sensation, 
feeling so happy and free, not a care in the world. She 
remembered that someone had once told her that when 
having sex, just lie back and think of England and 
thoughts of returning to dear old Blighty was more than 
a week away, another week to feel like this. 

Another week without having to get up early, go to 
work, pay tax...she suddenly felt sorry for the 
Chancellor of the Exchequer. "Hell, that must be the 
worst fucking job in the world" she thought to herself. 
Then the thought struck her. Shit, she was feeling 
sorry for the tax man. Crikey, that "E" must have been 
strong! Any stronger and she'll start liking that Crazy 
bloody frog!

Beth moved to the music, her swaying body acting like a 
pendulum, hypnotic almost and Allan found himself lost 
in his own thoughts as his delightful wife danced 
before him. He joined her, dancing on the mat in the 
lounge area, the music resonating in his ears in rhythm 
to Beth's slow seductive movements.

Beth had sensed Allan's mood and she danced nearer to 
him, her body swinging close to his, their hips missing 
each other by the minutest of fractions and she could 
see the material of Allan's trousers tenting with his 
impending erection. Just like the guys in the club, 
Beth knew she was doing what she needed to, arousing 
her husband like she had done so many times before and 
how she had inadvertently aroused possibly thousands of 
total strangers over the years. Beth instinctively knew 
what was on Allan's mind and she was feeling pretty 
horny herself. She raised her arms whilst dancing, her 
wrists close to Allan's ears allowing him a perfect 
view of her bouncing breasts. She saw Allan gulp, 
swallowing the build up of saliva that had built up in 
his mouth, as though he could almost taste her.

She moved around so Allan could see her cute little 
bottom wiggling, the short material of her skirt 
wafting around like a very short Marilyn Munro style, 
the motion of her dancing making up for the lack of a 
wind machine beneath her. Beth could feel her panties 
were soaking wet and she hoped that Allan was up for a 
busy night, she wanted him so much. She just adored the 
feeling of being wanted and she wanted him, no one 
else. 

But the difference was now Beth was in the driving 
seat, she was in control and she was going to tease 
Allan. He would be teased like she teased Juan. Allan 
would be treated to the same treatment as Juan, he 
would be teased and lead on, kissed a little, permitted 
a little intimacy before being encouraged to fulfill 
her first. There'd be plenty of time for Allan to be 
pleasured afterwards. Ladies first, she smiled to her 
self.

This was a far cry from previously. This time last 
week, she'd have had to drag her husband out of the 
club and back to the villa for some rumpy pumpy. But 
her eyes (amongst other things) had been opened and now 
she enjoyed having "The Power." This was going to be a 
long night as she ensured that she was totally 
pleasured and she, in turn would pleasure Allan.

But Beth had a hidden agenda. She moved closer to Allan 
and Beth sensed his body heat as she danced nearer to 
him and she noticed his breathing was becoming 
laboured, not through the exertion of dancing, but with 
passion.

Beth's lips brushed against his cheek, the first bits 
of stubble gently scratching her face.

"Allan," she whispered seductively. He looked at her 
drop-dead gorgeous face.

"Mmm-hmm" he said, looking to plant his own lips on 
hers, wanting to taste the lip gloss or, even better, 
the woman attached to the lip gloss.

"There's a great night at tomorrow, Allan," she 
whispered, her words slow and sexy. "I thought for your 
birthday, we could go and celebrate." Allan was lost in 
her scent.

"If you like," he mumbled, his lips looking to nibble 
her ear.

"I think you'll like it" Beth said, allowing Allan 
access to her lips. Allan nibbled at her as she teased 
him with her mouth.

"You think?" Allan muttered. His mind was on other 
things.

"I know!" Beth said confidently. Allan sub-consciously 
noted her attitude, her character still strong only 
now, she had greater determination and felt comfortable 
with it. 

"Tell me," Allan said, his lips moving down to her 
neck, his kisses slow and gentle unlike the back ground 
music.

"There's a pool and a bar..." she began, enjoying the 
attention her neck was receiving, "...three dances 
areas, a VIP area playing the best in sexy dirty house, 
nude dancers, erotic lounges..."

The dirty talk was getting Allan all hot under the 
collar and his kisses became firmer, his tongue licking 
the side of her neck as his hands rubbed Beth's 
shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin against his 
fingertips.

"...dress fetish if you wish, go bare if you dare," she 
said, recalling the advert that she'd seen all in a 
seductive manner and not for the first time, Allan 
wondered if Beth could make it doing sexy voice-overs 
for commercials. 

Allan's kisses became more subdued. Patently aware of 
their escapades a few days earlier, he was not sure if 
he or Beth were up for this type of party. A week ago, 
he'd have jumped at the chance but now, he was in two 
minds. Allan recalled a report in one of the Sunday 
Tabloids where they reported on a bunch of crazy things 
that went on in this type of club, how there were no 
holds barred. It was a free for all, being with 
someone, even being engaged or married meant nothing, 
it was every man (or woman) for them selves. Yet 
despite his fears, Allan was also excited, the 
enjoyment of seeing Beth with Juan had been an exciting 
experience yet riddled with emotional trauma, for both 
of them.

Allan looked into Beth's dreamy eyes and noted just how 
beautiful she was. Irrespective of her sexy body and 
unquenchable lust, she was absolutely gorgeous. On a 
scale of one to ten, she was definitely an eleven! Yet 
within her eyes, he could see something more, a desire 
that went beyond needing him.

Beth had difficulty concealing her feelings and she 
knew her eyes always gave her away. She could get away 
with it with most people, but she and Allan were on the 
same level, the same wave length and she would never be 
able to deceive him, he knew her too well. The thought 
of being able to strut her stuff in such an open 
atmosphere, where groping and fondling other people 
were the norm, where topless dancing was not restricted 
to just the paid dancers. Why stop at topless? Bring it 
on!!!

Beth was strong enough to know that she could trust 
Allan in the presence of naked women and although he'd 
enjoy the view, she knew he would not stray. Maybe a 
playful tweak here or a grope there, but she was 
confident Allan was safe. But she loved the feeling of 
being watched, being wanted. Being wanted sexually, 
especially. God, just the thought of it was making her 
horny and she felt her self moistening even more. 

Dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes watching her, 
each pair of eyes connected to an ever increasing 
erection, all wanting sex with her, wanting to bury 
their firm cock's in her pussy, the pussy she'd given 
only to Allan (oh, and Juan). Following their role 
playing recently and the situation with Juan, she was 
positive Allan enjoyed watching her. She'd never have 
guessed he was a voyeur as such, although she was not 
complaining. They had become even closer, even if a 
little apprehensive, since the Juan situation just four 
days earlier.

"You really want to go?" Allan asked, bringing Beth out 
of her train of thought.

"If you're up for it," she said, giggling and swaying 
her body close to his in a playful and seductive 
manner, her hand wandering down to his crotch and 
touching the bulge in his trousers.

"You feel up for it!" she joked. Allan inserted his 
tongue in her mouth before lifting her into his arms 
and carrying her to the bedroom.

He placed her gently on the bed and he noticed her 
cheesy grin. Beth was overjoyed that Allan had acceded 
to her suggestion. 

"I'm going to dance all night for you," she said, 
elated and Allan knew this was more than "E."

"How about you do a little dancing for me now?" he 
said, sitting on the bed expectantly. Beth needed no 
more persuasion, the music from the lounge drifting 
into the bedroom was sufficient for Beth to start 
swinging her hips, raising her arms and lifting the hem 
of her top, revealing her sexy curvaceous bust, the 
lacy bra barely concealing her beauty beneath. She 
shook and shimmied, knowing Allan would be lost within 
her dancing. 

Oh yes, she had the power and man, was she going to 
exploit it to her benefit. She slowly unzipped her 
skirt, hooking her thumbs into the belt straps and 
teasing Allan even more. It was all Allan could do to 
stop himself from drooling as he watched his sexy wife 
cavort before his very eyes and he knew just how lucky 
he was.

"Do you think the guys will enjoy my dancing tomorrow?" 
she said, her voice taking on the husky tone that made 
her sound so appealing.

"If you dance like that, I have no doubt," Allan 
responded, his eyes wide. He tried to reach for her but 
she playfully danced just out of his reach.

"All in good time," she chastised, her skirt now around 
her ankles. 

Allan groaned outwardly. He loved her teasing him but 
he'd had enough teasing, he wanted her and he wanted 
her now. This very minute.

Almost instinctively, Beth turned her back on him and 
danced backwards, her shoulders at his eye level.

"Be a dear and unclip me, will you?" she asked. Allan 
reached up and unclipped her bra, helping her remove 
the material from her arms, his hands reaching around 
and cupping her breasts. Beth groaned subtly as Allan's 
expert hands caressed her, his movements just as she 
liked. Firm but not too hard, stimulating the edge of 
her areola, his finger movements replicating the action 
of his tongue. 

She wiggled her bum towards his hips, lowering herself, 
feeling the unmistakable lump in his trousers and 
knowing in a short while, that would be buried deep 
inside her, making love to her, having wild passionate 
sex with her. Fucking her. Oh yes, she wanted to be 
fucked. Bollocks to sex, she wanted fucking. She wanted 
to fuck. She loved to fuck. She loved being fucked. 

She moved her arse over Allan's groin and he moved one 
of his hands down to her wet panties, moving the 
material to one side to allow access to his fingers. He 
touched pubic hair and then her love lips, Beth gasping 
suddenly as he did so. The sensation of being touched 
aroused her, made her need him even more. 

Allan's breathing was now overtaking him, his need and 
desire building. All he could imagine was Beth dancing 
and that it was someone elses fingers making her gasp, 
not his.

"Is this how you're going to dance tomorrow?" he asked, 
hopefully.

"God, yes," Beth replied, writhing on Allan's fingers, 
masturbating her self on his digits.

"I think the guys will find it more erotic if you dance 
like this with them," Allan suggested. 

"Me too," Beth replied. Almost without realizing, Beth 
went into fantasy mode.

"I'd dance with the guys normally, maybe topless. You'd 
like that, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," Allan responded. Yes he would.

"Then maybe I'd get a bit warm so I'd loose my skirt," 
she continued. Beth was still sitting on Allan's lap, 
her back to him yet he could sense her eyes were shut, 
conjuring up the image in her mind.

"Then what?" Allan prompted.

"Then I'd lap dance with him, like this," she said, 
accentuating her pelvic movements. "I'd take his hand 
and place it on my panties so he could feel the 
wetness..." she went on, pausing periodically as if 
living and telling the story in real time.

"...That'd be nice. Then I'd let him put his fingers 
inside my panties and touch me..." Beth moved Allan's 
hand, "...ooh... just here," she said, her body jumping 
slightly as Allan touched the spot she wanted. Allan 
continued his finger movements and Beth traveled on 
towards her first climax.

"You must be very hot by now," Allan prompted.

"Mmm. I'd better loose these. You'd better help," she 
said, standing and lowering her panties, Allan being 
treated to a perfect view of her bum cleavage. Seconds 
later, Beth was naked.

"What about the guy?" Allan asked. 

Beth moved her self so she was knelt in front of Allan. 
She liberated his erection in a few swift moments, 
noticing the pre cum on the head of his cock.

"Ah, poor thing is crying. I think it wants kissing 
better," she said, taking her mouth and placing over 
Allan's cock. Surprisingly, she tried to deep throat 
him from that position and whilst she'd been happy to 
try it before, it was only after Allan had talked her 
into it yet, tonight, she was taking the lead. Was it 
the new found confidence she'd discovered? Allan tried 
to contain the next question but instinct took over.

"Did you do this to Juan?" he asked. There. He'd said 
it. 

"Mmm," came the reply. Allan knew it would be difficult 
for her to talk with a mouth full but knew the answer 
was yes. What he couldn't fathom out was if Beth was 
confirming in reality or in fantasy.

"Really?" he persued.

"Mmm," came the reply. Before he could ask any more, 
Beth's fingers had encupped his balls and she began to 
tickle his testicles, making his own climax re-emerge. 

"I'm gonna come in a minute if you keep doing that," he 
said.

Beth disengaged momentarily. "Good," she said, resuming 
her position, her tongue working the shaft of his cock.

"I bet you say that to all the guys!" Allan said, half 
in jest. His climax over-swept him, his own dirty talk 
and images in his mind toppling him over the edge, 
feeling his juices flood into his dear wife's throat 
and almost directly into her stomach, not touching the 
tongue of the roof of the mouth until he finished 
ejaculating.

Beth removed her mouth from him and pushed him onto the 
bed, climbing on top of him and kneeling over his face.

"I'm going to call you 'Jack Daniels' from now on," 
Beth smiled down at him, noticing how, from that angle, 
her pussy hair made Allan look like he had a moustache. 
He looked at her quizzically.

"Jack Daniels is a liquor. You're my favorite licker!" 
she said, laughing at her own joke and writhing on his 
face, pressing her love lips against Allan's nose so it 
would stimulate her clitoris. He lapped at her pussy, 
his tongue entering her with ease. Allan knew what Beth 
liked and he worked her pussy, his tongue like a 
windscreen wiper, moving from side to side, varying the 
depth of his tongue, his fingers and knuckles adding to 
her physical external stimulation.

What was turning Beth on most, however, was the images 
in her mind, dirty dancing with some stranger, being 
watched and wanted, being groped and aroused, licking 
and sucking the stranger, bringing him to climax in her 
mouth then being licked and tantalized, cumming on the 
stranger's face. Cumming on the strangers face. The 
image clung to her thoughts.

"I'm cumming on a stranger's face!" she exclaimed as 
her body tensed and she reached her climax, leaving 
Allan in no doubt she was in fantasy mode. He felt her 
gush, a warm flow of her own juices tricking down his 
tongue and into his own mouth, swallowing in much the 
same way that she had swallowed him.

Beth rolled off of Allan and they lay together, side by 
side for several minutes.

They looked at each other then Allan smiled at her.

"What's the cheesy grin for?" Beth asked.

"Oh, you know," Allan replied in his usual casual 
manner. She gave him one of her stern looks.

"Then what?" Allan asked. Beth understood.

"Then..." Beth said, kissing her husband tenderly, 
"...I'd come and find you, tell you all about it so you 
could bring me home and fuck me."

"You'd want me to fuck you?" Allan replied, playing the 
game.

"Mmm," Beth responded, climbing on top of her husband 
and pinning his arms down against the mattress. "Like 
this." Beth lowered her hips onto Allan's cock which 
was regaining it's firmness. 

Allan rolled Beth onto her back so he was on top.

"Wouldn't you prefer it like this?" he asked. She 
rolled back on top of him.

"This way is better," she smiled. Beth loved it when 
they fooled around during sex. Love making could be so 
ruddy clinical at times, so it was nice to make it fun 
and, anyway, they had a similar sense of humor, they 
were on the same wave length.

The rollicked and fucked for several hours, the 
alcohol, atmosphere and effect of the "E" adding to 
their pleasure and sensations before exhaustion got the 
better of them, falling asleep on top of the sheets. 
The stereo played on into the morning.


Chapter 8
---------

Beth was the first one to wake up and she showered and 
prepared some toast and fresh OJ, turning the volume on 
the stereo down to a more acceptable level.

Allan eventually surfaced, his mood changing to one of 
delight when he saw Beth had prepared Breakfast. His 
delight was probably more that she was wearing the 
tightest of T shirts, bra less and she filled the T 
shirt perfectly. He felt the stirrings down below and 
his thoughts wandered onto the evening ahead.

"Happy Birthday!" Beth said, giving Allan a big hug, 
pressing her self against his naked body. He reached 
for her buttocks but she pulled away.

"You'll have to wait for your present until tonight!" 
she said, playfully. Allan smiled. Hell, he was looking 
forward to it. Little did he know that Beth was looking 
forward to it more than he was.

"I'll need to go shopping shortly," she said, placing 
some food in front of him.

"Why?" Allan asked, scraping a burnt bit off his toast.

"I've nothing to wear for tonight" Beth said, looking 
at him in her sly, sexy way. Allan's heart melted. He 
knew that look and he couldn't bear to disappoint her. 
And Allan knew she wouldn't disappoint him, whatever 
she bought.

"You know what I like, I've seen a lovely boutique in 
town..." Beth continued.

"What have you got in mind?" Allan interrupted. Beth 
smiled. She had won. She'd always had that power!

"Just you wait and see!" she said, disappearing into 
the bedroom. She reappeared a couple of minutes later, 
having found some shorts to compliment her top. 

"See you about 4ish," she said, taking her purse and 
giving him a wave of the fingers, then blowing him a 
kiss.

"Toodle pip," Allan replied, sinking his teeth into his 
toast. 

"Argh, yeuck!" Allan coughed. Spitting out his toast. 
It was burnt on the underside, too! Allan reached for 
the OJ, hoping it would take the taste away. Allan 
wondered if tonight would be as Beth had indicated or 
if this, too, would leave a nasty taste in his mouth.

***

The cab journey seemed to take for ever. The club was 
on another part of the island which was renowned for 
it's night life. Ordinarily, they'd base themselves 
nearer but this year, short notice and all, they'd had 
to slum it a few miles further away.

Allan had already had a couple of drinks, stiffeners to 
prepare him for the night. And tonight, who knows how 
it will develop? Allan guessed it might be quite some 
night, judging by Beth's attire. She'd certainly gone 
to town in more ways than one, her outfit was 
unbelievable. She had not allowed Allan a look at her 
until she was ready, spending more than two hours in 
the bathroom preparing her self. Hair and make up all 
had to be perfect, legs and bikini line all shaved and 
smooth, perfume in the right places and outfit. 

Allan was getting frustrated waiting for Beth, pacing 
up and down like an expectant father outside the 
bathroom. He'd guessed Beth would be dressed to astound 
and the tension had got to him. Allan had raided the 
fridge, the alcohol was aimed at calming his nerves but 
also as something to do, a distraction. He hated 
waiting, he was so impatient. Beth had teased him 
previously, stating he had "Less patience than Dr 
Harold Shipman!" Allan had ignored her black humor but 
her words echoed in his mind. He just hoped the wait 
was worth it.

"Silly bugger" he said to himself. Of course it would 
be worth the wait. Beth had never failed him yet. Allan 
knew Beth could wear a black bin liner and still look 
sexy, she was that sort of lady.

The bathroom door lock was slid open and the door 
handle turned. Allan looked at the doorway as the door 
opened and his jaw fell.

Well, what could Allan say?

"Wow" he said, his lips purposely accentuating the 
sound. Stunning was too inappropriate to describe how 
Beth looked. Yes, the wait had been worth it. Well 
worth it. Allan felt the stirrings of an erection in 
his pants as he stood, mesmerized by Beth's beauty. 

Beth glowed, her smile adding to the confident look and 
had Allan not known her, he might well have felt 
intimidated by her. She gave a little twirl and 
grinned.

"How do I look?" she asked, as if the "Wow" wasn't 
enough. Beth felt like a million dollars and, judging 
by the bulge in Allan's trousers, she knew it was just 
right. But she wanted to hear him say the words. Her 
top was, at best, revealing bordering on obscene and 
Beth thought if she bumped into any pensioners, her 
attire might just give them a fatal coronary! The top 
was so flimsy, so skin hugging, so low cut, so 
revealing.. .Allan gulped. 

Her ample breasts protruded though the material, the 
outline of her lacy bra underneath indicating there was 
not a lot of material involved in the garment, her 
already pert nipples pressing against the material, 
trying their hardest to be noticed and succeeding. Beth 
saw Allan's eyes wander down to her lower half, her 
skirt a little more than a minge pelmet, barely 
covering her panties even when she was stood up and 
could have been mistaken for a wide belt. 

Beth had trimmed her pubic hair and through the thin 
lace of her panties, Allan could just see the lower 
part of her pussy hair. Her vaginal lips protruded 
through the skimpy material leaving little to the 
imagination. He would later find out that she had 
purposely shaved her pubic hair into the shape of a 
heart. Her cute buttocks filled her tight panties which 
Beth had purposely purchased a size smaller than she 
fitted, accentuating her shape even more. Her bare legs 
were divine, finished off by a pair of high heeled 
sandals. 

"Fuck me!" Allan whispered out loud, more of a 
statement than a request.

"Later, darling," Beth giggled, waltzing over and 
giving him a snog. The aroma of her perfume mingled 
with the scent of her moist pussy and she oozed 
sexiness. Allan wanted to cancel the evening, he wanted 
to stay here and make love to Beth. What better 
birthday present could he want?

"C'mon," Beth urged, bringing Allan back to reality. 
She opened a drawer and took out some Euros and placed 
them in her tiny clutch bag. 

"Let me see if I've got everything? Cash, lipstick and 
phone. Yup, that's it!" she declared. Allan gulped and 
Beth thought he looked a little pale.

"Are you OK?" she said, concern in the voice but 
checking her hair in the mirror at the same time. Allan 
guessed that even if he did cry out feigning sickness, 
she'd still go and have a good time. He'd better go, 
just to keep an eye on her.

"Yeah, fine," Allan lied. He put his hand in his pocket 
and checked for his own mobile phone, knowing he'd only 
just taken it off charge.

"Same rules as before?" he asked.

"Sure. No interrupting. Remember, I'm in control 
tonight, OK?" Beth confirmed, no humor in her face. 
Allan had seen her serious side and knew not to 
challenge her, especially now she had adopted a more 
confident and positive attitude. She'd always been 
strong willed, even more so now.

That had been half an hour ago and the cab was just 
pulling up outside the club. Allan paid the fare, 
thinking the fare was quite reasonable, aware that the 
cabbie had been checking out his wife's pussy in his 
rear view mirror en route. Either the cabbie was still 
in a daze or he'd offered a discount for the view. 
Either way, Allan was happy to be out of the cab.

They stood on the side walk, noticing the characters 
that were queueing to get in to the club. People were 
dressed in all sorts of outrageous clothing, one guy 
trying to portray the "Freddie Mercury" look, tash and 
all. Several of the girls were dressed in skimpy PVC 
outfits, busts bursting from the seams, others were 
dressed in leathers of every kind. Some ladies had 
dressed normally but removed some of their 'sensible' 
outer clothing once inside the venue and they were 
strutting their stuff in their bikinis, many of which 
were little more than strings, material barely covering 
their nipples. 

A dozen or so girls were already topless and getting 
heaps of attention from all the guys and even from a 
few of the girls. Natural blondes, bleached blondes, 
brunettes, red heads, silicone implants, natural 
breasts, there was a selection of everything. Fat 
girls, thin girls, multi racial girls, everyone. The 
guys were every bit as outrageous, one guy wearing a 
towel around his lower half like a nappy, an attempt at 
a crown of thorns on his head, trying to look like a 
Roman emperor, another wearing jeans with the back side 
cut out and Allan guessed maybe the guy was gay or bi.

Inside, the party was going strong and everyone was 
having a great time. The bar was fully occupied and a 
smell consistent with "Weed" wafted through the air. 
Beth noticed how despite all the action going on, she 
was turning heads. She wasn't even topless yet, 
although there was very little left to the imagination, 
but she was drawing loads of attention. Her head felt 
light and buzzy and she wondered if the weed in the 
atmosphere was getting to her. 

Allan yelled something in her ear which she didn't 
quite catch. The music was very loud and she was lost 
in her own little world for a time, but she'd guessed 
that Allan was going to get some drinks and sniff out 
some "E." He was good at that and very discrete too!

Beth reflected on how lucky she was to be married to 
Allan, he was so considerate, loving and kind. But more 
than all of that, he loved her. And despite of recent 
activities with Juan, he was still the doting hubby 
that she married. Yes, she was lucky, she wouldn't 
trade him for anyone.

Beth nodded her head at her own thoughts and anyone 
watching her would have thought she was getting into 
the music. But her mind was clear in the fact that she 
and Allan were forever. He was perfect... although... 
Beth's mind wandered. Juan! He was a useless shit in 
bed, a lousy kisser and very rough. Beth wondered why 
Allan was so keen on her getting it on with other guys, 
wasn't she enough for him? Crickey, they'd tried every 
possible position in the book, they'd done it in a 
number of outrageous places, they'd shared various porn 
web-sites together and she'd even acceded to his 
requests to live out his fantasies. So what was 
missing?

Beth mentally scratched her head in wonder. She had no 
idea, she doubted she'd ever be able to understand men 
and their dodgy hormones! But she questioned her self 
as to why she had gone along with this unusual 
behaviour, to live out his fantasy. Beth delved deep 
into her own psyche and found the answer which she'd 
known all along. She loved Allan, no matter what and 
she was happier with this then him going off with some 
floozie and doing the dirty on her. 

Beth knew she couldn't bear to loose him, she needed 
him so much. She'd do pretty much anything to keep him, 
to stop him running off with some old tart and, in 
fairness, she'd given more than she believed was 
possible. She'd only gone all the way with Juan due to 
circumstances, she'd never planned to and it had 
happened as a result of keeping her hubbie satisfied. 
Which he had watched and not interrupted. 

Beth shook her head, hoping the physical movement would 
dislodge her thoughts. She tried to focus on other 
things, where was Allan with her Vodka red bull for a 
start. Still her mind kept wandering back to Juan and 
how she'd been coerced into being fucked by him.

"Watcha, Im Si. You with anyone, darlin'?" a voice said 
and Beth turned round to see some short, cocky looking 
Londoner with tatty jeans and a "Teenage Ninja Turtles" 
T shirt.

"Yes," Beth said confidently.

"Oh yeah?" the Cockney replied. "Who's that then?" Beth 
was aware that the little shit was trying to call her 
bluff. She saw a bunch of guys a few yards away, all 
quite stocky and strong framed. Beth nodded towards the 
group.

"Bromsgrove Rugby squad," she replied in a matter of 
fact way. "My husband is scrum half and his brother is 
the hooker." The cockney's face paled slightly and to 
make sure he got the message, Beth waved at one of the 
group who was looking at her. Of course, dressed as she 
was, she got a big smile and a wave back.

"I'll see ya later, then," Si said, skulking away back 
into the madding crowd. Beth breathed a silent sigh of 
relief. Thank heavens she knew a bit about rugby. She 
hated all this six nations stuff but seeing 30 well 
built blokes running around in shorts had its 
advantages, she thought to herself.

A few moments later, Allan appeared with the drinks, 
almost bumping into a couple with punk chains attached 
to various parts of their bodies, much of it hidden 
beneath underwear. Beth was delighted that he'd been 
able to acquire some "E." They chilled for a bit, 
taking in the pulsating beat and watching the clubbers 
dancing, performing actions which, had they been 
horizontal, might have been obscene. Thrusting hips and 
gyrating limbs filled the dance floor and as the dance 
tracks progressed, so did the volume of bare flesh.

Beth grabbed Allan and lead him to the dance floor, 
strutting her stuff to the beat, her body swaying and 
her breasts swinging. Beth noticed, not for the first 
time, the amount of eyes on her and she rose to the 
challenge.

"If they want a show, I'll give them a show," she said 
to herself. It was her husband's birthday and she 
wanted to give him a birthday he'd never forget. She'd 
later realize just how unforgettable this birthday 
would be for him. But just because it was Allan's 
birthday, it didn't mean she couldn't have some fun, 
too.

After 20 minutes, she lead Allan off the floor. The 
alcohol and "E" were kicking in and she was in 
overdrive mode. 

"You wanna watch for a bit, sweetie?" she asked. 

"You think I'm not up for it, Miss funnyfanny," Allan 
replied, doing his Sean Connery as James Bond 
impression, his poor Scottish accent actually worse 
than his Australian accent. Allan and Beth often went 
into abstract character mode, their humor being on the 
same level.

"It's not logical, captain," she replied, her hands by 
her ears as though impersonating Dr Spock.

"Who you gonna dance with?" Allan replied normally. 
Beth looked around and saw a guy, flamboyant in his 
dancing and wearing the same outrageous clothing that 
the Village People used to wear.

"I want that one," she said in her best "Little 
Britain" voice, pointing to the gay bloke. Allan 
smiled, knowing she was 100% safe with this guy.

"See you in a bit," he said, kissing her gently on the 
cheek. Beth went to walk away but Allan held on to her 
elbow. She turned back and looked at him.

"You look gorgeous," Allan said. "I love you." Beth 
smiled, blew him a little kiss and walked off, her arse 
wiggling as she went. Allan felt the pangs of 
loneliness yet the adrenalin rush of erotic excitement. 
What would tonight bring forth?

Time would tell.

Beth and Allan were loving the night that had had 
plenty to drink Beth felt free she had loved dancing 
with Allan and loved the music going on around her. 
Allan was aware of all the guys looking at his wife. He 
felt angry at them, they way they ogled her like a 
piece of meat, flesh to be fucked. She was looking 
really hot and was turning guys on just by her dancing 
in the clothing that she wore. Allan felt that maybe 
she was degrading herself, she deserved better than 
these animals that were leering at her. She was no easy 
lay, she was his woman, no-one else's. Yet he 
perversely wanted them to ogle her, to desire her, to 
get a major erection, to feel the need.

And as Allan watched some of the other ladies dancing, 
he, too had felt some eroticism towards them, but only 
in the "Blimey, she's horny" way. Not a "I'd like to 
fuck the arse off her" way.

How dare these animals behave in that way with his 
wife. She still wore his wedding ring for crying out 
loud.

Yet it was the fact that they were leering that aroused 
him. He wondered if he really was some sort of deranged 
pervert, wanting to see his wife get off with another 
guy. Was it normal? His buddy from work seemed to think 
it was. Allan was half expecting Beth to be inundated 
with a plethora of lewd comments and maybe that was 
sick for him to want that to happen to his dearly 
beloved.. It wasn't sick, it was hot, it was sexy, it 
was erotic...

Allan wondered what he had let himself in for and, more 
to the point, what had he introduced his dear innocent 
wife to? Yet he felt no guilt at this point, just 
desire. Was it the "E" kicking in.

"Bollocks" Allan said to himself and walking to the 
bar. Another drink might help clear his mind of 
thoughts. His mind wandered back to that evening, less 
than a week ago, when he'd watched helplessly from the 
doorway as his dear lovely wife was fucked by this 
total stranger. He recalled he had felt like being 
physically sick yet he had not moved, he had stood, 
rooted to the spot like a rabbit in the headlights on 
an oncoming truck. He had wanted it to stop whilst, 
simultaneously wanting it to continue.

Right now, the "E" was in his system and Allan was 
starting to feel a bit high, the emotional roller 
coaster no longer an issue. He was chilling out and 
Allan wondered what life might be like if he hadn't met 
and married Beth. He wondered if he'd ever be happy or 
if he'd be permanently reliant on uppers like "E" to 
keep him going. Beth had made such a change to his life 
and now, through his own bloody stupid fantasies, he'd 
turned his wife into a totally different person and he 
wondered if he'd be able to love this new "Beth" to the 
same extent as the old Beth. 

"Course I bloody well can" he said to himself under his 
breath. Why should he worry, she loved him and that was 
all that mattered. OK, so she'd bonked some stranger, 
it wasn't as though it had been behind his back. She 
may not have known he was there at the time, but Beth 
would never actively do something behind his back, 
there was a level of unwritten trust between them. 
Allan relaxed, his thoughts gaining clarity and he put 
it down to common sense although he wondered if the "E" 
had helped him come to these realizations.

Within minutes, any depression or anxiety had 
disappeared and Allan watched the revelers as they 
frolicked the night away, enjoying the scene before 
him, scantily clad women of all sizes (some were 
absolutely gross!) and guys rising to the bait, hoping 
the next tune would be the lambarda or some other 
intimate dance.

"Hiya hunky, fancy a dance," a familiar voice 
whispered. Allan turned round and saw Beth, her face 
flushed and sporting a large cocktail of some sort. She 
smiled at him and he gave her a peck on the cheek. Beth 
wanted to give Allan much more but Allan shied away, 
wondering if anyone watching might catch on to their 
tricks and he wanted to enjoy the evening. If he kept 
the contact like sister and brother, it might not cramp 
their style. Beth was beaming all over and Allan could 
see she was having a great time.

"What have you been up to?" he asked, expectantly.

"I've never had so many guys want to dance with me or 
buy me drinks," she giggled, sipping at her cocktail. 
"I wonder why that is?" Beth's eyelids fluttered 
seductively.

"I don't suppose the way you're dressed has anything to 
do with it, does it?"

"Maybe!" Beth giggled some more. "Everyone's looking at 
me and they're all sporting big boners" she said, 
leaning forward and whispering in Allan's ear. "They 
all want me, they all want to fuck me and it's turning 
me on like crazy" she added. Despite the thick smoke in 
the club and the slight aroma of weed, he could smell 
her moistness and Allan felt himself join the 
unofficial boners club.

"You want to play a game, then?" Allan asked 
tentatively. He hoped she would decline but if she did, 
he'd feel disappointed. Allan's pulse began to race and 
he began to redden in the face, not quite blushing but 
heated with excitement.

"If you're up for it, I'm game," she said, her eyes 
wild and alive. Allan wondered if she'd had any more 
"E" since before or if someone had been spiking her 
drink.

Allan suddenly had a brainstorm. He hadn't a clue where 
the idea originated from and if it was the by product 
of the drugs, the booze, the atmosphere or his own wild 
imagination.

"Give me your hand," he said. Beth obeyed, swaying 
slightly and Allan had temporary second thoughts about 
his idea. Beth steadied herself and Allan removed her 
wedding and engagement rings from her finger and popped 
them into her clutch bag.

"Here's the storyline," he said, noticing Beth was 
looking at him sternly but it was only her trying to 
concentrate with her mind spinning with alcohol. 

"Well, we could pretend your single and that your on 
holiday with your brother. That's me" he said, pointing 
his thumb at his own chest. "You could dance on your 
own, get flirty with guys that sort of thing." There 
was a short pause whilst the information sank into 
Beth's intoxicated mind. 

"Mmm, sounds good so far. You'd make a ruddy good pimp, 
you know!" she said, trying to suppress a hiccup. 
Beth's mind went off at a tangent, thinking through the 
scenarios and the fun she could have, toying with the 
guys, teasing them, leading them on, arousing them, 
torturing them with the possibility but nothing more 
than that. With Allan watching from the wings, she'd be 
safe enough and it'd turn Allan on for certain. He'd 
have a great birthday getting off watching her, then 
he'd take her home and punish her with his big stiffy.

 What a plan, she thought to herself. Add to that, she 
could control not just these guys but also her hubby, 
getting him to satisfy her before she permitted him 
direct pleasures although, just to maintain his 
interest, she'd give a little back! She wondered how 
she could be this evil to her own husband but the 
thought lasted no time at all, the wickedness of the 
idea and the fun she would enjoy was the stronger 
emotion. She could feel herself getting wet at the idea 
and the thought of Allan watching her cavort with a 
bunch of strangers, many of which were barely clad made 
Beth even more excited. 

"Will you be watching?" she asked, her voice taking on 
an element of sultriness.

"You bet!" Allan responded, excitedly. Another live 
show of his dear lovely wife wearing almost nothing 
dancing and partying with all the other folks was about 
as good as it could get. Beth could see the excitement 
in his eyes and she grinned, knowing she would be able 
to deliver, she would be able to give her hubby a show 
he'd remember and, provided he didn't get too pissed or 
stoned, he'd repay her later between the sheets. Yes, 
this was going to be one hell of a birthday.

"You know the rules?" she said in a commanding tone. "I 
have my phone but you mustn't interrupt, you 
understand?" she said, not waiting for Allan to 
respond. Allan nodded slowly.

"Shit! That's going to drive me nuts!" Allan said. He 
looked disappointed but he knew there was little point 
arguing. He'd made the suggestion in the first place 
and Beth had agreed, willingly not reluctantly. He 
guessed it was only fair that he acceded to her simple 
request.

"OK!" he said, resignedly, a veil of red mist in his 
eyes. "But we'll keep in contact by text, OK?." Beth 
nodded in agreement although Allan was not overly sure 
if she was just nodding in her slightly stoned, 
slightly pissed state.

"Good. See ya later!" she said, wiggling her fingers as 
a goodbye, blowing him another little kiss as she 
turned to walk off. She stopped briefly and said "See 
if you can find me!" and gave him a sly little wink 
before running her fingers through her hair in the 
seductive way that she had.

Allan watched her as she disappeared into the crowd and 
wondered if it were the drink or the shoes that made 
her so unsteady. Hell, she was driving him crazy, he 
wanted her all to himself yet he wanted to share her, 
he wanted to see other guys thinking they were doing 
great with her only to find she'd leave them and spend 
the night with him and only him. Although...visions of 
her and Juan flitted into his mind and he felt the 
stirrings in his loins. Allan closed his eyes and 
blinked incessantly for a few moments until the image 
dissipated. 

Allan regained his senses and, seconds later, he saw 
Beth on the dance floor, a gaggle of guys around her, 
one in particular was a tall slim guy with a shaved 
head and a spiders web tattoo over his eyes. Allan 
watched with interest, forgetting about the fire water 
in his glass, totally engrossed in the spectacle before 
him. He noticed Beth's shapely legs as she strutted on 
the floor and how well toned they were, not least from 
the amount of exercise they had pulling and pressing on 
his own thighs, pulling him deeper into her. 

Those legs brought on a thousand fond memories and 
Allan watched, his jealousy tinged with a little 
sadness but laced with perverse pleasure. He tried to 
convince himself that he was disgusted but passion and 
lust were the over riding emotions. What the heck was 
wrong with him, his mind spun more than a political 
debate as he pondered the consequences of his 
suggestion which Beth was now executing with clinical 
accuracy like a Tomahawk cruise missile. 

Allan watched the effect Beth was having on him. All of 
the guys around her bore looks of lust as she danced 
with them, dancing closer and more intimately than you 
might reasonably expect even to the fast tunes. Allan 
shook his head, his body language saying "No" yet his 
inaction saying "Yes." He could walk over to the dance 
floor, take her by the arm and lead her out of the 
club, into a cab back to the villa and lock the door 
behind them. Yet he didn't. And it was this pulling of 
emotions that drove him crazy. Allan watched on.

Beth was really getting into party mode, she herself 
uncertain as to her motivation. Was it partly to please 
Allan who she loved dearly and wanted to please more 
than anything in the world. Or could it be that she was 
motivated by the alcohol and the "E." Maybe, just 
maybe, she was motivated by her own ego, the ability to 
create a thousand hard-on's in a matter of minutes and, 
dressed like this, she'd achieve her goal in record 
time.

Beth's dancing got wilder, throwing her head around and 
loosing herself in the beat and, consequently, she 
received lots of admiring looks. Several guys tried to 
hit on her and Beth was able to handle herself 
comfortably. One guy had tried his luck, trying to look 
suave in a white dinner jacket but with tight leather 
trousers, his bulge accentuated in his attire. Beth had 
danced with the guy until he'd whispered something 
suggestive in her ear. Beth was not one to hold back.

"Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed!" 
she said, smiling. Her dance partner looked at her, his 
feelings hurt. 

"C'mon baby, let's get it on, just you and me," he 
said, trying to be cool.

"Maybe!" Beth said, pausing for effect. "But you'd be 
in with more of a chance if you had some personality!" 

"Whadya mean?" he replied, getting angry.

"You're not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?" 
Beth said, running her hand along his chin. "Anyway, I 
tend not to date outside my own species!" she added, 
waving a goodbye to him with her fingers and 
disappearing into the madding crowd, leaving the 
prospective date aroused and frustrated. Beth enjoyed 
that feeling of leaving a guy frustrated, wanting her 
so desperately. God, the power she had over men, it was 
awesome!

Another guy with a number 3 hair trim and a St George 
Cross shaved into his head tried his luck, his accent 
obviously from the West of England, his accent making 
him sound a little dim, even though he was probably a 
nice guy. He dressed in a vest top, trying to give the 
impression he was toned when he was actually a little 
over weight. "Too many carrots" Beth had joked to 
herself and named him "Wurzel!" 

Wurzel had tried desperately to get Beth to dance close 
to him, wanting a feel of the soft luscious body but 
Beth had other ideas. Leading him on was a fantastic 
turn on for her, noticing his sweating brow and flushed 
face, adding to the discomfort of the lump in his 
pants. He had blatantly asked her if she'd go outside 
with him and give him a blow job (obviously he was not 
in possession of a VIP pass) and Beth had laughed. 

"I wouldn't waste this make up and clothing on you!" 
Beth had retorted, enjoying watching the guy squirm.

"No need to be sarcastic!" the guy had replied.

"Oh, sarcasm is the only service I can offer you, 
sweetie!" she said, turning her back to him and 
wrapping her arms around the nearest guy she could 
find, allowing herself to be kissed by the stranger, 
the taste of cognac on his tongue. When she disengaged, 
Wurzel had disappeared.

A guy with dark hair with a white skunk like streak 
(rather like Kevin Pietersen) started hitting on her, 
dancing next to her, giving her smiles and come-on 
looks. Beth responded, dancing provocatively close to 
him, making her breasts sway like balloons in a gale, 
noticing his eyes fixed to her chest and moving in a 
hypnotic fashion. He was obviously enjoying the view, 
the growth within his tight white trousers giving the 
game away. Beth knew she'd hooked him and now she was 
reeling him in like an unsuspecting carp, taking the 
bait. Beth put her arms around the guy, almost like a 
bear hug, trying to dance slow to a fast track, 
pressing her firm and erect nipples against the bare 
flesh of his chest which was visible from his fashion 
shirt which was tucked in but unbuttoned to the navel.

The guy responded, trying to grab a handful of bum but 
Beth wriggled a bit too much for the guy to get a good 
grip. He kissed her neck and whispered things in her 
ears. Judging by his accent, she guessed he was from 
Northern Ireland and she subconsciously noted not to 
make any political statements which might cause 
friction, like "Which network is your mobile on? 
Orange?!"

Beth was high, her emotions and her humor on overdrive 
and she was so enjoying the attention, confident that 
Allan was nearby, watching her every move. After the 
escapade a few days earlier, she'd half expected Allan 
to fit her with a tracking device connected to a 
portable SatNav! Either way, she was happy and 
confident, so confident that when the guy suggested 
they go somewhere less public, she agreed willingly.

***

The guy led Beth away from the main dance floor to a 
section below the VIP area where there were fewer 
people. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her 
closer to him, embracing her like Heathcliff might in 
Wuthering Heights. His lips met Beth's and he closed 
his eyes, savouring the moment, feeling Beth's warm 
sumptuous body against his. His hands wandered down her 
arms, taking her wrist and placing it against the bulge 
in his trousers. 

"How does that feel, honey?" he asked.

"That feels just like a penis, only smaller!" she said, 
disengaging from his embrace and walking off, her arse 
wriggling in her unique way.

"That makes us even" she said to herself as she brushed 
past the clubbers, making her way to the dance floor. 
Her phone vibrated and she read the text message.

It read "???"

She'd seen Allan watching her and he knew she'd been 
left the dance floor. He looked at her and she could 
see the longing in his eyes, he looked like a St 
Bernard Dog with those big sad eyes and for a brief 
moment, she felt pangs of guilt. But Beth knew that the 
desire was driving him crazy, egged on by his jealousy. 
It was having the same effect as "E" would have on his 
sexual prowess, he was good anyway but the "E" gave him 
a bit of extra edge.

She gave him a sly wink, placing her cell phone back 
into her bag before waltzing back into the swinging 
throng of heaving bodies as the music took over their 
grey cells, all becoming zombies to the beat, 
responding as the beat commanded, all inhibitions left 
back at their respective hotels in their suitcases 
ready to fly back home. Beth had certainly left her 
inhibitions somewhere, probably taken from her along 
with her money by the bastard, Juan.

Beth's attention was soon changed, a young beefy chap 
sporting the latest designer jewelry and a receding 
hairline trying his luck. Beth put on the same show for 
this guy, her hips swaying which made her brief panties 
highly visible. Beth wondered if her wetness were that 
obvious when the ultra violet strobe flashed but she 
threw caution to the wind, her dance movements as wild 
as before. The dance floor was now heaving, bodies 
pressed against each other as everyone fought for a 
foot or so of space to do their own thing. 

This was an ideal excuse for several people to grope 
the person next to them and Beth felt a plethora of 
alien hands on her rump, one or two of them female 
hands judging by the length of the fingernails. One 
guy, totally pissed, put his arms around Beth from 
behind and slurred something to her. His accent sounded 
Eastern European but it was hard to tell and being 
pissed, she couldn't understand him anyway. Beth turned 
forwards again only to be pulled back by her waist and 
snogged, the stranger's hands cupping both tits and 
caressing gently, his thumbs and forefingers gently 
tweaking her erect nipples. As quick as it happened, it 
ended, the stranger lost in the throbbing mass of 
bodies dancing. 

An older guy in leather cowboy pants and a leather ten 
gallon hat danced in front of Beth for a while and he 
was obviously feeling lucky, too. Beth hadn't a clue 
what he was on but whatever it was, it was having a 
terminal effect on his common sense. The guy held 
Beth's hands, pulling her close then pushing her away 
which, with the crowded dance floor, was a distance of 
no more than a couple of inches. 

Suddenly, he dropped her hands and undid his trousers 
on the dance floor, Velcro instead of a zip or buttons 
and, underneath, no underwear. He stood in front of her 
and spread his legs, throwing his arms in the air as 
though doing a star jump. The crowd cheered at his 
nakedness, a few wolf whistles and jeers. Beth couldn't 
help but laugh and she placed a hand to her mouth to 
contain herself, almost doubling over. The naked dancer 
looked hurt.

"What's the matter?" he asked, quite seriously. Beth 
was giggling like a 14 year old school girl at this 
poser who was trying to make some sort of impression 
and she saw the direct correlation between the 
excessive hat and the lack of manhood. Beth guessed 
maybe the guy drove some flash expensive sports car to 
make up for the lack of cock.

Beth managed to control her mirth after a bit, gasping 
for air as though she was having an angina attack or 
something. The guy looked at her, still sporting a hard 
on which couldn't have been more than 5 inches. Beth 
thought it would sound better if she thought of it as 
12 centimeters as it sounded larger than 5 inches!

"You wanna put this in your mouth, baby?" the guy said, 
almost sending Beth into another laughing fit.

"No thanks..." Beth replied, "...I roll my own!" she 
said, bursting out into laughter again, those revelers 
around her who heard the comment also collapsed into 
fits of uncontrollable laughter. Beth turned and made 
her way off the dance floor, a visit to the powder room 
necessary before she pissed her pants with laughter. 
Even the DJ had noticed the commotion and made a 
comment, making the naked dancer feel totally 
humiliated.

Allan had been watching and had lost sight of her a few 
times in the crowd but saw her heading for the toilets. 
He tried to intercept her and their eyes met as he 
approached. She looked at him and he saw in her eyes 
the seriousness, "Don't interrupt." Allan smiled and 
diverted himself to the gents, finding an empty cubicle 
and sitting down. He felt his own erection in his hand 
and he could so easily had removed his tension at that 
point but he was saving himself. He tried to piss but 
his erection was blocking the emptying of his bladder.

"Shit!" he said out loud.

"You want some, man?" a voice from the next stall said. 
The voice sounded Afro-Caribbean and was probably some 
dealer judging from the weedy aroma emanating from the 
toilet next door.

"You're OK thanks, man" Allan replied. He'd taken some 
"E" and doubted anything would make him feel better, 
other than repossessing his own wife and fucking her 
shitless.

His own wife! Bollocks! He'd better get out there and 
keep an eye on her, he didn't want another Juan 
situation to arise. God, he was envious of these other 
guys dancing with his wife, ogling her sensational 
body, fantasizing about having their wicked way with 
her, wanting to fuck her. He'd been the one to say "I 
do" and the keep only to her as long as they both shall 
live, yet he'd been proactively encouraging his own 
dear wife to cheat on him. Wow!

Allan almost came in his trousers at the thought. He 
was so turned on at the thought of someone else wanting 
her, she wanting the other guy. His fantasy of seeing 
Beth with someone else had become a play acting game 
which had evolved into the real thing and, even though 
this was relatively innocuous (so far), Allan felt 
concern tinged with excitement.

What's more, Beth was aware of Allan's thought 
patterns, more than Allan realized himself and as it 
was Allan's birthday, she was going to give him what he 
wanted. He wants a show, he'll get a show. And later, 
if he behaves himself, some physical reward, too! Allan 
watched on.


Chapter 9
---------

"Hi! Can I fill you up?" a European accent said. Beth 
spun round and saw a young blond haired guy smiling at 
her. He was about Allan's height, slightly stockier and 
was either on steroids or worked out a lot, judging by 
his body mass. He handed her a drink similar to the one 
she'd just finished and Beth guessed he'd been watching 
her from a distance.

"Thanks" she said, taking the drink as he handed it to 
her and taking a big sip. Even with the Aircon, it was 
very warm inside the club and she drank thirstily. 

"I'm Kris" the guy said, his smile genuine.

"I'm Beth" she said, instantly regretting the idea. She 
wished she'd used a false name; the concept of being 
anonymous seemed quite attractive. Yet despite her 
intrinsic apprehension, she felt strangely attracted to 
Kris, he was good looking, nicely dressed, clean shaven 
and well groomed. When he smiled, his teeth were almost 
perfect, almost Hollywood like and Beth was instantly 
transported to the fantasy role-plays she and Allan had 
been enjoying over the last few months. Kris could have 
been a movie star or something, and he oozed confidence 
as well. For all she knew, she may well as fucked Kris 
already in her fantasy world, maybe this was deja vouz.

"Where are you from?" he asked. Beth looked blankly for 
a moment as she regained her composure.

"I'm from the UK" she said, beaming. Her smile worked, 
Kris' face lighting up like bonfire night.

"Really?" he smiled back, his face aglow. "I love the 
UK. I have friends in London, Imperial College. You 
know it?" he asked, eagerly. Beth knew of it but not 
where in London but she wasn't going to let on.

"Sure, I know Imperial" she lied. "I have a friend at 
Holborn University" she added, uncertain if a Holborn 
University even existed! 

"How interesting" Kris said and Beth got the impression 
he didn't really care about the geography of the UK, he 
was more interested in exploring the twin peaks of 
Beth's protruding chest, his eyes surreptitiously being 
drawn to her ample bust. Beth recalled an advert a 
couple of years earlier for a brand of lingerie where a 
busty woman was shown in a skimpy bra with the tag line 
"Weapons of mass distraction!" Beth had her own tag 
line, "Weapons of Mass-turbation!"

"Tell me, are you with someone tonight?" Kris enquired 
harmlessly, although he had his own agenda. Beth 
answered immediately, her confidence high and her 
memory good, recalling her rings were tucked away in 
her clutch bag.

"I'm with my brother who's over there somewhere" she 
said, waving vaguely over towards the bar area, 
ensuring the pointing was done with her left hand, 
flashing her naked ring finger.

"Maybe you would care to dance with me, then?" Kris 
asked, almost gentlemanly and Beth wondered if he was 
being genuine or taking the piss out of the British 
"reserved" approach. She half expected him to order tea 
and scones!

"Let me finish this first" Beth replied, sucking hard 
on the straw from her drink, the cold and alcoholic 
liquid refreshing her throat. It tasted so good, she 
felt she could drink another dozen but she also guessed 
the alcohol was severely disguised and it was probably 
200% proof. Aware she needed to keep her wits about 
her, she and Kris hit the floor.

Now Beth was pretty good on the dance floor, but she'd 
met her match in Kris. He was cool, his dancing as good 
as any guy she'd ever seen and Beth had to admit she 
was most impressed. She responded by throwing herself 
into the music, her hips and arms rotating and gyrating 
with the beat, her shapely calf muscles adding to her 
elegance as she danced, her provocative movements 
matching Kris' as they cavorted around. Beth basked in 
the admiration of other revellers, her revealing top 
leaving nothing to the imagination. God, she was 
feeling horny, hornier than she had felt earlier.

What had Kris put in her drink? Had he laced it with 
more "E"? Beth had no idea that the drink contained a 
mixture of "E" and a little Gammahydroxybutyrate GHB) 
for good measure. The combination would make her 
ecstatic, horny and the GTN would chill her out, the 
combined effect acting a bit like a beta blocker, 
making Beth relaxed yet high, her inhibitions quashed 
and her libido raised. 

Beth started to feel light headed and she guessed maybe 
the drink was stronger than she thought, yet she did 
not feel unwell, she felt elated and very, very horny. 
Beth decided she would see how far this went with Kris, 
then she was going to find her hot and horny husband, 
take him home and fuck the arse off him. In fact, she 
toyed with the idea of sucking Allan off in the cab, 
just so that he'd have recovered when they got home and 
maybe they'd fuck for longer. Beth had her plans all 
mapped out. Kris, it seemed, had his own agenda.

It could only have been about 20 minutes and Beth was 
feeling so hot and horny. She was patently aware that 
she was driving Kris nuts and he was showing signs of 
agitation. Beth held felt her cell phone vibrate a 
couple of times but had not had the opportunity to 
check out the messages, but she was certain Allan had 
wanted her to tease the guy some more. What's more, 
Beth was up for it, enjoying the game, the fun was in 
the chase and, judging by Kris' face, he was enjoying 
the experience although he may have been unaware of the 
fact it was just a game.

***

"You wanna go somewhere quieter?" Beth bellowed, trying 
to be heard over the thumping bass beat coming from the 
industrial sized Bose speakers.

"Sure" Kris responded, smiling. Beth tottered towards 
the edge of the dance floor, Allan watching her from a 
safe distance. God, he was envious but he was a man of 
his word, he would not interfere. Not yet, anyway. 
Allan thought she looked a bit tipsy but guessed maybe 
all that dancing in those sandals were taking their 
toll. He had no idea she was being influenced by a 
cocktail of alcohol, drugs and her own psyche.

Allan was in touch with all his senses, the "E" and 
booze not affecting his mindset or lucidity as he 
watched his luscious wife teasing and leading this 
blonde guy into a false sense of security. And unlike 
last time with Juan, there was only one way up and one 
way down so Allan would always know where she was. And 
despite her intoxicated state, Allan truly believed she 
was in control, her recent boost in confidence was 
contagious, his confidence in her had increased. Allan 
was, however, frustrated that he'd sent several text 
messages to Beth who'd not had a chance to view them, 
to respond, to be more provocative. 

"Silly arse" he thought to himself. How the fuck could 
she be more provocative, her dancing had bordered on 
obscene and he'd seen more hardcore action on the dance 
floor than he'd ever seen on any British cable or 
satellite TV station where certain images are either 
pixelled out or craftily cut by the editing room to 
leave just enough for imagination.

Beth was feeling confident, cocky almost. Following the 
Juan fiasco a few days earlier, Beth was happy to be in 
control again, to be in the driving seat blissfully 
unaware that the concoction of alcohol and drugs had 
yet to properly take effect, their reaction building 
but not yet at full strength. It would not be long, 
however, until her body would be overcome by the 
mixture. She thought the "E" she'd already taken plus 
the alcohol was not beyond the levels she'd consumed 
before and she felt calm yet excited, working to her 
own agenda to tease Kris, then find Allan and relive 
the experience whilst they had sex. 

"You want to go to my private room?" Kris suggested, 
pointing towards the VIP area. Beth had agreed, half 
knowing what to expect. Kris flashed something to the 
bouncers and passage was granted, the bouncers watching 
Beth as she mounted the stairs, her cute arse visible 
from beneath the shortest of skirts and even Allan 
could see her buttocks from his view point several 
yards away and he wanted that arse now, pressed against 
his own hips. Allan could feel the moistness on the tip 
of his erection and he yearned for Beth, for her to bed 
him now, to take him all the way, to ride him, to fuck 
him, to make him cum.

But for now, he had to wait and ponder, the 
anticipation teasing him, arousing him and turning him 
on, not that he needed any more help. Allan pondered on 
whether maybe he should just stick to the fantasy more 
than the ecstasy, it could save him some effort! He put 
his hand into his pocket and felt his mobile phone 
against the clammy skin on his palm. He removed his 
hand, leaving the phone where it was. 

He was certain Beth had received the texts, the signal 
in the venue was surprisingly good, yet he knew it 
would just be as waste of time, effort and money. He 
stood and watched as Beth ascended the stairs, her cute 
arse cheeks taunting him as she walked, as if they were 
speaking to him. Allan could now say in total 
confidence that he knew how the guys felt when Beth 
left them wanting more, the frustration that built up 
inside his mind, let alone his pants. His only 
consolation was that in a few hours time, he'd be the 
one to remove her clothes, to get inside her knickers, 
to screw the arse off her.

Beth reached to stop of the stairwell and turned back, 
scanning the crowd for Allan, aware vaguely where she 
had last seen him. Hundreds, if not, thousands of heads 
bounced around in party mode, obscuring her view of her 
husband and his whereabouts. Yet Beth felt strangely 
confident and content that Allan could see her and 
would be ready to save her, to whisk her away from this 
madness. 

Right now, she needed Allan to be there but she'd 
committed herself to give Allan a birthday present and 
this was it. She was doing this for him, not for her. 
And it would be on her terms, she'd had enough of Allan 
controlling her, she was in total control. She felt 
obligated, she imagined that Allan might dump her if 
she was unable to provide exactly what he wanted and 
this was her opportunity to deliver, to prove to Allan 
that she could turn heads, create erections and desire 
yet keep completely true to him.

Kris smiled his sexy smile and his eyes glistened in 
the flashing lights of the club, warmth and passion 
emanating from him and Beth suddenly felt strange 
urges. She had warmed to his charms but something had 
changed. Beth wondered if it were the VIP area where 
guys wandered around in black leather thongs, muscles 
and tattoo's everywhere and the odour of testosterone 
filling her olfactory nerves like never before. Beth 
witnessed women in various states of undress, one black 
girl had a couple of guys fondling her bosoms whilst 
she, herself, fondled the bulge in another guy's 
underwear. 

As they made their way through the VIP lounges, Beth 
saw what could only be described as an orgy going on. 
At first, she thought it may have been a gang bang, a 
blond woman being drilled in all 3 holes but as she got 
closer, she saw beyond the cubicle door another 2 women 
being entertained. She was amazed at the "open house" 
mentality, everyone not just able to view but also able 
to join in. Beth almost blushed as the guy who had his 
cock in the blond woman's mouth waved to her, blew her 
a kiss and gestured for her to come and join them. Beth 
hurried on by, Kris having trouble keeping up with her.

A short topless lady of oriental origin wearing only 
'stars and stripes' briefs passed them, semen all over 
her hair and Beth had little doubt as to how that mess 
may have occurred. Judging by the girl's actions, she 
was going back for more, heading for the orgy room 
they'd just passed. Concerns that Kris may try 
something similar struck Beth but her confidence 
remained high, she could handle it. 

Kris showed her into a vacant cubicle, the glass 
overlooking the dance floor as before and he told her 
to wait, disappearing. Beth looked out, scanning the 
dance floor again looking for Allan who she knew would 
not be far away. She instinctively knew that he had 
seen her mount the stairs and she patted her clutch 
bag, feeling the shape of her mobile phone in her bag 
to her relief. That could be her lifeline. 

She checked the phone for messages but the time on the 
messages were obviously sent prior to her mounting the 
stairs to the VIP lounge. Beth went to reply to the 
messages, to keep her husband informed of her 
intentions, to play their game, but she heard someone 
approaching. A giggling couple of ladies passed the 
door, their language not one that Beth understood but 
their body language suggested they'd been laughing at 
the disappointing size of their catch! Beth returned 
her attention to her mobile and sent Allan a text, 
"Tease & please? Txt if not OK" She replaced the phone 
in her clutch bag.

Kris returned with some drinks, happy she had not left 
him and disappeared into the mass below. He handed her 
a drink like before and Beth accepted, cautious not to 
get too tipsy. He raised his glass and gestured for 
Beth to do the same. He tapped his glass against hers 
and offered a toast.

"To a very special evening," he said, his accent quite 
strong. They both took a large sip, his eyes never 
leaving Beth's.

"So, where are you from?" Beth said, trying to make 
polite conversation.

"I'm from Sweden," he said. "I'm here on vacation like 
you," he said, standing behind her and placing his arms 
around her waist, feeling her slender tummy. Beth 
wanted him to stop but his hands were powerful yet 
comfortable as he spread his fingers out over her 
tummy, his imagination thinking about how many of his 
sperm would soon be released inside the belly of this 
most attractive woman. Beth tried to think quickly and 
she turned her head to speak to him as a form of 
distraction.

"How long are you on...." she began but Kris had taken 
his chance and placed his lips against Beth's, the 
suddenness taking her by surprise. His tongue entered 
her mouth, the taste of alcohol on his breath mixing 
with her own, his saliva juices making his tongue 
slippery and she imagined his penis being equally as 
slippery when wet. 

She almost choked on her thoughts, that she would even 
contemplate on doing anything other than leading Kris 
on. She'd learned her lesson earlier with Juan, she 
wasn't going to get caught again. But Kris was a great 
kisser and she was feeling really horny and, anyway, 
one kiss wouldn't hurt, would it? It would give her a 
few moments to gather her thoughts and plan her attack, 
she was going to wrestle the control away from him. 
That was her plan, anyway.

Kris' tongue remained in her mouth and to his delight, 
Beth responded, her tongue finding his and playing with 
it, teasing him, licking his tongue and teeth as she 
did so. She felt his hand rising from her waist towards 
her breasts and she felt pangs of guilt. This must not 
happen. 

The disco music thumped away, change of track with a 
loud bass intro rattled through their ears, the timing 
unfortunate as it masked the sound of Beth's phone 
alerting her to the incoming text message, "OK 10min 
max" it said. 

Beth was unaware of the message as she looked at her 
reflection in the two way glass, being able to look out 
but also seeing her reflection, Kris standing behind 
her, pressing his body into her back, pressing his 
erection against her buttocks, letting her know he was 
aroused. Beth saw herself in the reflection, this 
stranger's hand cupping her breast, feeling the nipple 
through her flimsy material, rolling it like a piece of 
play dough, the bud pert and erect. 

Beth tried to regain her composure, her breathing 
increasing as Kris increased his activity, his other 
hand rising from her hip to her other breast, their 
mouths still engaged and tongues entwined. It had to 
stop. She wanted it to stop. Her mind was telling her 
it was wrong but the reflection in her mirror glass of 
her with a strangers hand fondling her made her feel 
very erotic. She groaned with his tongue still in her 
mouth and she felt his hands looking for access to her 
top, untucking her from her shirt and placing his hands 
beneath her clothing, the bare flesh of his strong 
muscular hands against the bare flesh of her tummy. 

"You look hot. Why don't you take something off?" Kris 
suggested. To Beth's horror, her arms raised permitting 
him easy access as Kris slowly lifted her top over her 
head. 

"No," she protested but without conviction.

Beth closed her eyes, the image in front of her too 
powerful to take, her pussy now dripping wet. She felt 
Kris's hands on her protruding breasts, feeling her 
shapely tits through the thin piece of material of her 
bra. Her breathing increased as her excitement rose, 
filling her with fear and uncertainty. She was in 
control, wasn't she? Kris's hands cupped her round 
globes, his caressing movements circular and 
exaggerated, almost as though her breasts were twice 
the size. 

Her imagination kicked in and Beth imagined Allan man-
handling her, unclipping the bra that had done such a 
great job of restraining her bulging breasts, the 
straps being slowly, so slowly drawn down the length of 
her arms, centimetre after agonizing centimetre, slowly 
revealing the soft fleshy meat of her breasts. Beth 
found the image of Allan difficult, the hands that were 
groping her were stronger, rougher, unloving yet still 
gentle, warm and erotic.

"Stop!" she said feebly, her words no more than a 
whisper, lost in the background noise of the music from 
the floor below. Kris had pulled her bra straps down to 
her elbows, slowly further down the forearms until the 
material cupping her breasts fell forward, revealing 
her shapely breasts in their entirety, the paleness of 
the skin contrasting with the dark brown of her areola, 
her nipples firm and erect, begging to be touched, to 
be kissed, to be sucked. 

Kris reached forward, his hands releasing the straps of 
the bra and watching it fall to the floor, before 
reaching back up her slender belly to her waiting 
mounds, gently caressing her tits in the flesh without 
the distraction of material in the way, stimulating her 
nipples, kissing her sweetly. She barely noticed her 
hips circling in rhythm to Kris's hands as he fondled 
her, aware that her movements were grinding against 
Kris' hips, his bulging erection pressed against her 
sweet body. Heck, if only Allan were here, she wanted 
Allan so badly, she wanted to be fucked, she wanted 
cock, she wanted it now!

Her eyes opened slightly, the image in the glass as 
bold as before, and she noticed a hand wandering back 
down her belly, to the clips that held her skirt 
together. No!

Beth wanted to pull away, to stop Kris from taking 
advantage of her but her body is refusing to respond to 
her mental commands. Her body is over ruling her mind. 
How could this be? She should be in control.

Kris pulled away from the kiss and looked deep into her 
eyes.

The reflection in the glass glared back at Beth, she 
witnessed her bare breasts with only Kris' hands hiding 
her modesty. She moaned, regretting her body cheating 
on her, defying her thoughts. Why was she so weak 
willed? She had no idea. She couldn't think straight, 
was this reality or was this fantasy? Was this Kris or 
was it Allan pretending to be Kris? She had to regain 
control because this had to stop.

The concoction of "E" and the GHB played an important 
part in Beth's attitude, increasing her own desire, the 
combination of various substances increasing her sexual 
need, making her feel really horny and conning her body 
into complying with Kris' advances, heart over-ruling 
the head.

Hands wandered down to her briefs, bikini bottoms that 
she had bought earlier. Beth remembered the unusual 
look she got from the sales assistant when she took the 
bikini bottoms to the till to pay, how the briefs were 
decent but the bra, whilst matching in colour and 
material, was less practical, much more revealing and 
in total contrast. Beth felt warm gentle hands 
caressing the side of her hips, clips on each hip 
keeping the panties up, covering her modesty. Beth 
pushed her hips away from Kris, hoping Allan would see 
her through the glass, that he would see she had been 
away too long and interrupt. She had told him not to, 
but she fathomed that he would only allow her a finite 
period of time before coming to her rescue like a 
knight in shining armour. So, where the fuck was he? 
He'd be here soon, don't worry, go with the flow, she'd 
told herself. Allan wouldn't let things get out of 
control like he did with Juan, would he?

Cooler air around her upper thigh brought her back to 
reality, she gasped as the clip on her right hip was 
unclasped, the material dangling down in much the same 
manner as her tie-up bikini bottoms had with Juan last 
week. Kris placed his hand inside the material of her 
panties, stoking her pussy as he did so. Beth drew in 
breath rapidly, the sensation almost tipping her over 
in climax. She was feeling so horny, so fucking horny. 

"You're like my favourite part of the UK," Kris 
whispered in Beth's ear. Beth didn't respond, her mind 
was in turmoil, it was happening again, she was 
becoming a serial slut and she couldn't believe it was 
happening to her.

"You know what my favourite part of the UK is?" Kris 
asked again. Beth murmured and Kris smiled.

"Bushey!" he said, his smiling reflection in the glass 
grinning back at her as his fingers slid effortlessly 
over her love lips, stroking her outer lips, offering 
no resistance to his firm and slightly chubby fingers. 
He curled a finger as it entered Beth, touching her 
deep inside and she let out a loud yelp, not in pain 
but a yelp of delight.

"Mmm, you like this, don't you?" he said, playfully. 
Yes she did but she didn't. She wanted physical release 
so much yet she wanted it to be Allan. But he wasn't 
here, once again he'd deserted her, talking her into 
this and he was absent. Any port in a storm, then, Beth 
pondered.

The Viagra was taking effect, her love glands were 
swelling and the blood flow to her love organs were in 
full swing. Beth inadvertently spread her legs, 
allowing Kris easier access to her pussy, his fingers 
probing at her from all directions and Beth's mind was 
swimming, uncertain whether delight or disaster was the 
main emotion. 

Kris unclipped the other side of the briefs and Beth 
stood before the glass, naked and horny with this good 
looking Swedish stranger. He spun her around. He took 
in her image with his eyes, unable to believe he'd 
actually caught this beauty. He'd been watching her 
cavort around the dance floor for the last couple of 
hours, flirting, teasing and arousing, watching her 
rope in and then discard her prey like a piece of 
litter. He could barely believe he'd got this woman to 
the point of nakedness and, provided his little 
concoction of, what was the term, "Date rape" mixture 
worked, shortly he'd have his cock buried deep inside 
her, screwing her for all his worth. Oh, yes, that 
sounded delightful. The thought of actually fucking 
Beth had him all but foaming at the mouth. He wanted 
her and he wanted her in every way possible.

"Let's dance" he said, pulling her close to him, 
putting his plan into action. They danced slowly to the 
fast beat, his hands all over her buttocks, his lips 
massaging the side of her neck with soft kisses and 
licks, the trail of saliva reflecting in the dim light 
of the booth. Beth thought he was being very 
gentlemanly despite her being naked, taking things 
slow. She'd go with that, it would give Allan time to 
get up her and rescue her. Maybe she could get away 
with just the soft swing thing, wank him off, let him 
come on her tits or something, then go and repossess 
her hubby so he could finish her off, give her what she 
needed. Oh shit, she was feeling horny, that "E" must 
have been industrial strength or something. Beth was 
unaware she'd had a double dose, the second dose being 
impure inasmuch as if had been laced with other 
substances.

"I love the shape of your pussy hair," he said, having 
clearly noticed her heart shaped pubes.

"I'd love to take a closer look. Do you mind?" he said. 
Beth wasn't given a choice, she was sat on a leather 
sofa, Kris kneeling before her, a leg over each of his 
shoulders. He leaned forward, his tongue delicately 
touching her outer lips, Beth gasping each time contact 
was made as he teased her, eventually lapping at her 
pussy like a kitten with a saucer of milk. Beth started 
to moan, her hands gripping the arms of the leather 
sofa, her knuckles whitening in much the same way they 
did when she visited the dentist. Only this time, it 
was pleasure not pain and she had the notion that she 
was going to be drilled and filled. 

"No, please stop!" Beth begged, still vaguely aware of 
her surroundings and of the fairy tale story she'd told 
Kris. "My... brother... will wonder where I am."

The GHB was really kicking in now, the relaxation 
mixing with the euphoria, the combined Hydroxy-n-
butyric Acid and Methylenedioxy-methampthetamine mixing 
with the alcohol resulted in Beth becoming lost within 
her psyche,, her common sense and logic going out of 
the window, her goal now was to reach orgasm, physical 
release from the tension that had been built up inside 
her. Her hormones had been given a pick-me-up, 
adrenalin in full production and flowing through her 
circulation.

Some sort of reasoning came back to her, gradually. She 
was doing this for Allan. She had been told he had just 
stood and watched as Juan fucked the arse off her a few 
days back, and here she was, living out another fantasy 
for him and where the fuck was he? If he misses this, 
he may not get a chance for another action replay. 

She would tease this blonde Scandanavian, soft swing 
with the guy but she was definite that she would not 
let Kris go all the way, that was Allan's job. Almost 
as though in complete unison with Beth, Kris continued 
his abuse of her pussy with his tongue in a slow and 
deliberate manner, ensuring the furry bits on the back 
of his tongue touched and stimulated Beth's pussy lips, 
as her body responded, so Kris would increase his 
activity or offer the variation that aroused and teased 
the poor girl.

Beth squealed some more as Kris teased her vagina, the 
slowness adding to the teasing and the frustration, the 
drugs adding to her heightened senses, the increased 
blood flow to her genitalia making Beth yelp. She 
looked at the glass wall, hoping to see Allan in the 
crowd, that he would see her and come running to her 
aide yet, deep down, she knew he wouldn't. He was too 
darned honest, keeping to his word not to interrupt. He 
couldn't see through the one way glass anyway. 
Suddenly, Beth felt scared. She tried to listen out for 
the phone alerting her to an inbound text, unaware that 
she'd already missed it.

"Shit!" Beth yelled, realization and pent up anger 
mixing with sexual euphoria. She could feel her climax 
building and it could only be seconds before blessed 
relief. Beth gripped the chair harder, her fingernails 
digging into the leather of the arm and she reflected 
on how much this might hurt Allan if it was his 
buttocks! Still Kris licked and lapped.

"Oh, fuck!" Beth screamed. Climax was around the 
corner, creeping up on her silently and swiftly like a 
panther in the night. Beth shook her head from side to 
side, wildly, trying to fight the temptation to just 
let go yet wanting the release that climax would bring.

"Mmmmmm," she murmured as Kris' tongue went into 
overdrive, slurping sounds from her pubic region from 
Kris as he sucked on her clitoris, his expert tongue 
licking her all over and inside, his fingers adding to 
the sensation, spreading her love lips wider.

"F-fuck, I'm going to come!" Beth stammered. "Please 
stop, noooooooo..."

Kris continued the erotic torture, taking no prisoners, 
going straight for the kill

"Oh fuck, fuck fuuuuuuck...!" Beth exclaimed as the 
climax ripped through her like a tornado, her body 
shaking so much, the chair vibrated with her movements. 
Kris kept his face pressed against her, his tongue 
buried deep inside the lips, drinking her juices as 
they flooded out and Beth wondered momentarily if 
that's the same feeling as when your waters break when 
you are pregnant. Her mind often wandered onto abstract 
thoughts as a way of protecting herself from reality. 
Often being the same as recently. First Juan, then 
Kris, where the fuck would it end?

Kris continued to lick at Beth and whilst she half 
expected him to be finished with her, or at least give 
her a fuck then sod off, Kris was there for the night. 
He wasn't going to let her get away with just one 
climax and he wanted more than one, too.

Beth felt herself aroused again almost instantly, this 
time Kris removed his tongue and replaced it with his 
finger, the middle finger curling up, on the hunt for a 
"G" spot, finding it immediately like an expert.

Beth wanted him to stop, she'd been stripped and 
teased, brought to climax and now she just wanted 
Allan, a good long hard fuck with Allan and then 12 
hours of sleep. No, make that 24 hours of sleep!

Kris stood and removed himself from Beth and she looked 
up at his eyes. All she saw was lust, no love, just 
pure unadulterated lust. Kris wanted nothing more than 
sex, lots and lots of sex. Beth felt herself feel sorry 
for him, she had lead him on, after all. She was 
positive he wasn't going to leave her until he'd had 
his fill and she was the one he was going to fill. 

Kris undid his trousers, his slow and seductive 
movements adding to her heightened sexual pleasure. She 
did not want to see what he hid beneath his trousers 
yet, perversely, she did. Something was playing games 
with her mind. She was a decent girl, true to her 
husband, yet not only did she want to see what Kris hid 
beneath his trousers, she wanted to touch it, to stroke 
it and kiss it, so suck on it. To fuck it. This was not 
her own thoughts and her mind fought with itself. Beth 
was unaware that the effect of the drugs that Kris had 
mixed with her cocktail was making her mind loose it's 
logic, her rationale. 

Kris pulled down his very brief briefs and the content 
almost made Beth's eyes water. He was fully erect, 
about the same length as Allan but the girth.

"God almighty" Beth whispered to herself. Kris' cock 
was fat, very fat and she could only liken it to a coke 
bottle size, the tip like a giant mushroom, purple and 
swollen. Beth trembled at the thought of that entering 
her pussy, no matter how lubed up she was, it filled 
her with dread. That has got to fucking hurt, she 
thought. Even in her drugged up mind, some clarity 
prevailed.

Ironically, Kris realized it would be a bit of a shock 
to her and Beth guessed maybe she wasn't the first one 
to be amazed at his physical size.

"You like large ones?" he asked, his accent mellowing 
with the "E" he himself had consumed.

Beth gazed at it, silently. The erect penis moved 
physically with each pulse from his heart, the arteries 
throbbing with his very being. The tip was almost 
violet in colour and the pre-cum oozing from the bell-
end made it look slippery and awesome. Beth licked her 
lips subconsciously, almost able to taste the pre-cum 
on her own lips. Through the one way glass, Beth could 
see hundreds of balloons being released from the 
ceiling on to the revellers below and she guessed maybe 
the foam would be next; that always produced lots of 
sexy fun as clothing got wet, t shirts clung and 
clothes took on the form of the limbs and things 
beneath them. Beth wondered how big Kris might look if 
he were to get his trousers wet. 

Kris took a couple of steps towards her, his cock in 
direct line with Beth's sweet mouth and, almost 
instinctively, she opened her mouth, her lip gloss half 
worn away but still looking really horny as her lips 
opened wide like Tower Bridge opening. She breathed 
deeply as it approached her, her lips covering her 
teeth so as not to grate on him. She wondered if she'd 
be able to accommodate Kris but as his erection entered 
her mouth, she found the elasticity in her jaws. 

His cock glided across her tongue and she tasted his 
pre-cum and it made her mouth watered, the artery 
pulsating against her tongue, exciting her. Beth had 
the power of desire, she knew Kris wanted her and she 
was now going to play her game with him, enclosing her 
lips around him and sucking on his manhood, trying to 
regain some control. She guessed that if she were able 
to entertain him with her sweet mouth until he'd 
climaxed, she might be able to disappear back 
downstairs, repossess her own husband, get a cab back 
to their villa and shag the arse off him! Despite her 
drugged mind and body, some rationale prevailed, if 
only her mind could over rule her body. It was as 
though her sensory nerves were over-riding her motor 
nerves, something was controlling her which she had no 
influence over.

Kris mumbled in delight as she sucked on his erection, 
her hands cupping his balls and gently caressing them, 
adding to his pleasure. In her confused state, Beth 
noticed the absence of her rings on her ring finger, 
her naked hand engulfing Kris' testicles, implying she 
was free and single, not attached and not betrothed.

Kris closed his eyes and Beth noticed his face, the 
absolute exhilaration consolidating her ego, that she 
had the power to make guys want her.

Confusion in Beth's mind was evolving, her mood now 
back into pleasure mode, the climax she'd just 
experienced had sent her into elation, her mind 
ricocheting into fantasy mode again, her need now a 
physical one, the need for her own husband, his cock 
inside her, to fuck her. But fantasy mode meant she was 
looking at Kris but imagining Allan. She was acting out 
a scene that she was having sex with Kris but with 
Allan watching. She'd done this sort of this play 
acting loads of times before and today was the same, 
the fantasy game. In Beth's confused state of mind, the 
guy with the cock in her mouth was Allan pretending to 
be Kris, the fact he looked and felt different was just 
the booze and the "E." 

Beth's other hand moved to the shaft, masturbating the 
erection, pulling the foreskin to and fro as her head 
bobbed forwards and backwards, her tongue darting 
across and over the head of the penis, struggling to 
complete the manoeuvre in a simple swift movement, the 
size restricting her tongue movements. Beth's other 
hand caressed the testicles, making Kris squirm, 
occasionally wriggling as his knees turned jelly-like.

Kris removed himself from her mouth and she looked up 
at Kris, expectantly, seeing the blond guy but 
imagining Allan. Kris pulled at Beth's ankles until she 
was almost laid flat, kneeling in front of her and 
lifting her legs over his shoulders. His large wet 
throbbing erection loomed nearer to her genitalia and 
Beth could no longer see the massive cock that it was, 
her mind was in "Allan" mode, seeing his average sized 
cock as it neared her. Beth's breathing was laboured as 
Kris brought his throbbing monster closer to her and 
she closed her eyes, expecting penetration, expecting 
to be fucked. She needed Allan inside her now.

She felt the offending organ bounce around beneath her 
and she breathed in expectantly.

"Oow, shit!" she screamed as the penis penetrated her 
rectum, the suddenness more alarming than the actual 
penetration itself. Aware of the amount of pre-cum 
lubricating Kris, he had entered her arse with relative 
ease, entering her easier than he might have expected. 
The depressant properties of the GHB had obviously 
relaxed her maybe a little diazepam was mixed in with 
it as well. 

Whatever the mixture was, it was relaxing all Beth's 
muscles, it most certainly wasn't pure but it had the 
desired effect, Kris plundering Beth's arse in a way 
she never dreamed possible. Pain and shock spun into 
pleasure almost instantly as the immense organ 
stimulated her nerves, many of which connected to the 
same nerve branches that supplied her vagina. Beth had 
experienced very little anal sex, the fear of pain 
being quite off putting and the very idea of something 
the size of Kris scared the living shits out of her.

Yet Beth had found the experience exhilarating, she 
felt great. Kris was so turned on by her being able to 
accommodate him and Beth felt so horny. This is what it 
was all about, having the power. In Beth's state of 
confusion, she believed she was back in control, making 
Kris want her, making Kris need her to fuck him. She 
knew he wanted to fuck all her holes and despite the 
fact she was happily married and extremely content with 
Allan, this was special. Maybe the atmosphere, alcohol 
and drugs were having an effect but so was her own 
mind. She felt so in control, so horny, so powerful. 
Yet was she? Was it Kris in control? Or was it Beth?

Kris grinned in delight as he fucked her anus, 
overwhelmed that not only had he been able to get Beth 
naked, to become intimate with her, but to get to fuck 
her butt! And, for her to accommodate him, a feat very 
few ladies had been able to do previously; and 
certainly not one this pretty, this shapely, this 
horny. He wondered how far she would go and he guessed 
that the drug should enable him to go the whole way, 
fuck her in all 3 holes and he planned to come in her 
sweet pussy, fill her with his seed. Oh yes, that 
sounded delightful. Come in her cunt. Kris' focus never 
wavered, his plans would soon come to fruition.

High on her own emotions, Beth thrust her buttocks back 
into Kris' groin, his moans of delight adding to her 
own euphoria. Beth felt light headed as Kris banged his 
hard erection into her anus, aware of his own 
exhilaration, his eyes rolling back into his head in 
absolute satisfaction, his very being tingling all 
over. Beth's imagination added to her own excitement as 
Kris fucked her bottom, Beth's mind envisioned Allan 
humping her rump. 

Kris was getting quite forceful at this point, his 
thrusting into her becoming almost fierce and Beth 
guessed he may be close to climax. Almost without 
speaking, she imagined he had read her thoughts as he 
pulled his cock out of her arse and sat on her chest. 
Beth thought he was going to fuck her cleavage, to come 
on her chin and she was banking on Allan coming to her 
rescue, taking her away from this crazy environment, 
taking her home and fucking her, fucking her all night 
and into the morning, fuck her until they had to leave 
for the airport. Allan would save her. But Allan didn't 
show.

As for coming in Beth's tits or chin; well, Kris had 
own different agenda. 

With unimaginable swiftness, Beth found Kris' meat in 
her mouth, forcing it back past her teeth where it had 
been just a few minutes earlier. It took a few moments 
for it to dawn on Beth that the sudden foul taste in 
her mouth was originating from Kris's erection which 
had smears of her own excrement on it. Beth wanted to 
vomit but Kris' actions were again, forceful. He thrust 
his cock in and out of her mouth, Beth stretching her 
jaws to accommodate his size, his length and girth and 
she tried to spit out her saliva, the taste not strong 
but definite. Her mind worked evilly against her body, 
telling her she must take Kris and his cock, to suck 
him, to make him come, to ingest his semen.

Beth instinctively tried to reject the offending penis 
but her mind overruled her body and she gave head, her 
cheeks drawing in as she sucked, her tongue battling to 
encompass his enormous penis-head, the blessed relief 
of the taste of pre-cum masking the taste of her own 
excrement. She sucked hungrily like her life depended 
on it. She felt degraded and disgusted with herself, 
why hadn't she refused, why had she allowed this guy to 
do this to her. She wanted to scream, to say "no", to 
reject the entire scenario, to wake up from this god-
awful night mare.

Kris again had his eyes half closed, savouring the 
moment, enjoying every second of having this most 
attractive woman suck his cock, her shoulder length 
dark hair swaying with her movements, adding to the 
overall atmosphere. 

Beth had her eyes half closed, her mind's eye imagining 
Allan yet seeing the blond guy laying on her chest. 
Beth was still in shock, not least the fact that she'd 
only come to the VIP area to tease Kris and had ended 
up giving him head and having her arse half ripped to 
shreds. Beth was also still in shock in relation to the 
magnitude of his erection but also the fact that she'd 
been able to accommodate the guy. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Kris removed himself 
from her mouth and again with speed, she found her 
knees over his shoulders and his hot throbbing member 
being thrust towards her. Her eyes watered 
involuntarily at the thought of his erection entering 
her soft, innocent cunt. Beth looked directly into his 
deep blue eyes, searching his soul for some compassion 
but all she saw was lust and animal passion. 

"No, you mustn't" she pleaded with the Scandanavian, 
shaking her head from side to side, her movements 
uncoordinated, the drugs partly paralyzing her muscle 
actions, her mind playing games with her. Kris was in 
control and that scared her as much as what he was 
planning to do with her.

Kris placed both his hands on her soft breasts, the 
roughness of the skin on his hands rubbing against her 
nipples, sending signals of stimulation and arousal to 
her brain. The big mushroom head of his cock touched 
her outer love lips and she squealed, delight more than 
fear and with a progressive movement, her smooth moist 
love lips began to give way. 

Allan would appear through the door now, surely? But he 
didn't. Beth wondered if Allan would take her request 
seriously, that he would literally accede to her 
request not to interrupt. Realisation dawned on her 
that Allan wasn't coming to save her and now, this very 
second, her pussy which, until recently had only been 
plundered by Allan, was about to be raided again.

"No, no, no ...Oh... SHIT!" she screamed.


Chapter 10
----------

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are beginning our descent 
into London Gatwick Airport where the weather is 
overcast and the temperature is fourteen degrees. Thank 
you for flying Air 2000 and we look forward to 
welcoming you again"

Allan looked at Beth who was stirring from her sleep. 
She'd dozed off shortly after take off and had slept 
through the entire flight. He looked at her profile, 
the shape of her cheeks, the little dimples when she 
smiled, the first traces of laugh lines around her 
eyes. Hell, she was gorgeous and he loved her to bits. 
No words could describe how he felt about his dear 
loving wife, her beauty, her personality, her 
curvaceous body, her wildness between the sheets, what 
more could a guy want? 

Beth had opened her eyes and tried to focus. Her first 
sight was Allan's beaming face and she smiled at him.

"What are you looking at?" she said, playfully but 
sleepily. Allan just smiled.

"You," he said, leaning forward and kissing Beth's 
forehead. She put her arm around his arm and snuggled 
up to him, cosy and warm.

"We'll be at Gatwick shortly," he announced. 

"Damn!" she replied, "I thought we'd be touching down 
in Bridgetown, Barbados!" she joked.

"Pilot turned left instead of right!" Allan replied, 
keeping the humour going. Beth sighed.

"Did you have a good birthday?" she asked. Allan 
paused, caught between telling a lie and hurting Beth's 
feelings. What could he say? Never better? Let's do it 
again sometime? But Beth had gone out of her way to 
take Allan away to his favorite haunt for his birthday 
and, even more so, made all sorts of personal 
sacrifices. He could have found a way past the security 
guys at the VIP lounge sooner, he could have found 
himself into the VIP area before Beth had been...well, 
you know...? Why hadn't he acted sooner, he was a 
resourceful fellow? Hell, he'd developed those skills 
at work, he could probably negotiate his way out of any 
situation, he could probably even sell bacon butties in 
Tel Aviv! 

Maybe when he wasn't stoned or pissed or emotionally 
disturbed. But he had given his word that he would not 
interrupt, not interfere and if nothing else, he was a 
man of his word. He'd told the priest "I will" when 
they got married and he intended to keep those 
promises, and a promise to Beth was no different. Still 
his mind played games with him, asking him over and 
over again why he had taken no action. There must have 
been something he could have done without going back on 
his promise? And as for a happy birthday, well what 
could he say. It would certainly be a memorable one.

Allan grinned and nodded to Beth, not wanting to say 
actual words in case they were used in evidence against 
him. Relationships were a bit like being apprehended by 
the long arm of the law, and sometimes you need to 
exercise your right to remain silent.

Beth sighed, her eye lids drooping as she fought to 
remain alert. She'd had one hell of an exhausting 
holiday, she'd partied till late, she'd eaten too much 
and drunk to much. She'd remained faithful to Allan, 
certainly emotionally although physically...

Beth could not bring her self to finish the sentence in 
her own mind. The fiasco with Juan seemed a lifetime 
ago, the scenario with Kris still in the fore of her 
thoughts. Having been a one man woman for all of her 22 
years of life, having never had sex with anyone other 
than her own husband, she found herself having been 
fucked by a stranger. No, make that "strangers." 

Beth had been fucked in every conceivable way. She'd 
been fucked without any protection. She'd given Allan 
head before they went to sleep that night, to relieve 
his frustration but unable to accommodate him insider 
her. She was sore, very sore and embarrassed. She 
didn't want him to find out just how much cum had been 
ejaculated inside her

Her mind wandered back to the VIP lounge, the thumbing 
bass line of the music, the rush of blood though her 
veins, saturated with alcohol and a copious volume of 
drugs of dubious origin and content. The effect of the 
"E" had taken its toll and Beth had lost herself within 
herself, which made sense at the time. Now, she wasn't 
too sure.

She recalled how Kris had removed his cock, covered in 
her own excrement from her arse hole and forced it into 
her mouth, how she had lapped at it, slurping like a 
child on a lollypop before having the monster of a dick 
enter her fully stretched pussy. Beth had initially 
felt repulsed, the thought of a cock covered in shit on 
her tongue had made her shudder, yet she had complied 
with Kris' wants, permitting him his perverse pleasure 
at the expense of her own dignity. 

She wandered in awe how on earth she'd been able to 
accommodate Kris, not least the girth of the thing but 
every hole it was put into, she'd been able to receive 
the organ. It had hurt initially but the overwhelming 
sensations of delight overtook the discomfort and, 
within moments, she remembered she had begged Kris to 
fuck her, to fuck her deep, to fuck her hard, to fuck 
her till he came, until they both came. 

She recalled that she had not thought she was being 
sluttish, she was playing out a fantasy for Allan, or 
that's what her mind was telling her even though, deep 
down, she knew it was not a role play, it was real 
life. She thought that if she didn't play the game, 
Allan would ceremoniously dump her, leave her for some 
slapper who could give him what he wanted. She loved 
him and was prepared to make all sorts of sacrifices 
for him. And god knows the sacrifices she'd made for 
him over the last week or two. It seemed like the 
holiday had lasted a lifetime.

Beth cuddled up to Allan's arm, the sensation of the 
plane's descent making her stomach churn, but not as 
much as it had churned that night with Kris. The 
Swedish guy had placed her knees over his shoulders, 
allowing him the deepest penetration and Beth had 
wanted it, reluctantly at first but the drugs had over 
ridden her mind, forcing her body to crave the fresh 
meat of the Swede. She had told him with her own words. 
Beth sighed silently to herself, some of this she had 
not confessed to Allan yet. 

She wondered if she should come clean at some point. 
Allan would never understand, she figured. Yet she had 
not willed it to happen. As far as she was concerned, 
they'd taken the same amount of "E" yet she'd gone 
overboard. She hadn't guessed that Kris had laced her 
cocktail just so he could get into her knickers with a 
banned date-rape concoction.

But how do you tell the one you love, the one you are 
married to that you let some stranger fuck you by 
accident or that you didn't mean it to happen. Allan 
had wanted it to happen, but not to that extent. He'd 
wanted her to lead the guy on, to tease him, maybe give 
him a wank or a blow job. He just wanted to get off on 
the fact other guys wanted her, were aroused by her and 
wanted to bed her. Allan was smitten with the idea of 
soft swing, for Beth to masturbate another guy or maybe 
give some head whilst Allan watched. 

Maybe the guy would lick Beth and fondle her tits, frig 
her with his fingers until she swamped him with her own 
love juices. But she'd gone further than that, further 
than either of them had planned and now she was torn 
between guilt and pride, guilty that she'd been foolish 
enough to get involved in the first place, but proud 
she was able to provide something for her husband that 
he had craved for. Proud also that she'd been able to 
accommodate the monster cock that Kris was blessed 
with. Beth had wondered if he'd toyed with steroids, it 
had dawned on her that he'd obviously toyed with other 
drugs mixed in with "E."

The churning feeling went over in her stomach again and 
the thought of the plane going down resurrected 
memories of her going down on Kris before his huge cock 
was placed into her warm, wet fanny. He'd entered her 
cunt more slowly than he'd entered her butt yet she'd 
made no less fuss.

Beth recalled the look in Kris' deep blue eyes as his 
cock bottomed out, rebounding against the cervix wall, 
his girth filling her all over, stimulating millions of 
nerve cells simultaneously, making her squeal, to enjoy 
the sensation, to cry for more. 

"Fuck me harder" Beth had ordered. But then she'd heard 
herself say "No, stop" followed by "Please fuck me 
harder. Deeper!" Beth had been shocked by her own 
actions and had surprised herself at being so British. 
Why had she said "Please?" Kris would have fucked her 
anyway! 

Kris had said very few words, probably finding it 
difficult to breathe, his energy being spent on fucking 
this horny British babe, making her squeal. She 
remembered seeing him smile and wave which, at first, 
she found cute until she realized he was waving to the 
spectators at the door of the cubicle. They'd heard her 
squeals and her begging to be fucked and she'd 
attracted an audience of maybe a dozen or so, some of 
whom she recognized from the orgy from a neighboring 
cubicle from earlier. 

Embarrassed, Beth had tried to hide her face yet her 
discarded clothing gave her away. 

"It's that horny British tart!" some squeaky London 
accent yelped. Beth looked through the gap in her 
fingers and saw Si, the short cockney creep she'd given 
the slip to earlier.

The creep saw her looking at him and he entered the 
booth and knelt beside her, the other spectators 
watching with interest. 

"You know your bloke from the rugby team?" he began. 
"How long have Bromsgrove rugby club had a load of 
blokes from Warsaw in their first 15?" he asked, hands 
on hips trying to look authoritative. Beth groaned to 
herself, she might have guessed this creep might go and 
muscle in on their conversation and discover they 
weren't from the Midlands. They weren't even from the 
UK. Shit! How much worse could this get?

"Yeah, they were all Polish!" Si went on, looking her 
naked body up and down. "I see you like a bit of pole!" 
he said, laughing at his own joke. He turned to wave at 
the other spectators.

"Go on, then!" one of them urged, the accent on the 
Welsh side. The creep turned round to Beth who was 
still naked on the sofa, face up with her knees over 
Kris' shoulders. Beth had guessed her face had visibly 
paled when she saw the cockney creep drop his trousers 
and remove his erection, wanking himself over her face 
and lowering himself down towards her. She tried to 
move her head away but the creep was too focused, 
kneeling on the sofa with one knee either side of her 
head and lowering his balls to her mouth.

"Lick my balls now!" he commanded. Beth remembered 
feeling quite scared and she did as he commanded, her 
own breathing heavy and laboured due to the massive 
cock in her pussy.

"No, please, no!" she had begged, feeling emotional yet 
not tearful. What the fuck was in her system, it was 
buggering up her emotions big time.

Kris was finding the position with the creep quite 
restrictive but, unbeknown to Beth, the VIP lounge had 
an unwritten rule of sharing and Kris removed himself 
from Beth and gently pulled her from the sofa and 
turned her around, on her knees so she was on the 
floor, leaning against the sofa. 

The creep sat in front of her, his erection before her 
face whilst Kris repositioned himself behind her, 
taking her with one movement so he was deep within her 
again. Beth gasped, fighting for breath as Kris 
penetrated her again, his momentum more rhythmical, his 
balls slapping against her as he fucked her from 
behind. Beth couldn't refrain, she squealed out loud.

"Oh, shit. STOP! Fuck me!" she said, drawing breath 
rapidly, her lungs barely able to cope with the 
exertion. A murmur rippled from the spectators viewing 
from the doorway about how big Kris was and how good he 
must be.

"Oooooooh...Deeper!" Beth muttered her speech slightly 
slurred with the alcohol. Beth was desperate for Allan 
to appear, she saw her clutch bag beneath her skirt in 
the corner of the cubicle, aware that her cell phone 
was just a few feet away, a few agonizing feet, that 
help could be just seconds away. Yet she was unable to 
do anything about it, her pussy being pounded by the 
biggest piece of male meat she'd ever encountered. 
Beth's mind recalled the joke about looking under a 
Scotsman's kilt and if he's condensed, he's a Campbell 
and if he's got a Quarter Pounder, he's a McDonald! 
Well, if Kris was Scottish, he'd definitely be a big 
Mac!

Simon, meanwhile, had positioned himself in front of 
Beth and was holding her head, his fingers entwining 
with her soft dark hair. Subconsciously, she allowed 
her head to move towards the creep and his erection of 
below average size, not so much of a big Mac, more a 
fish finger! Beth didn't flinch as it entered her 
mouth, she appeared to be in a daze, her zombie like 
state directly down to her being in fantasy mode again, 
denying the reality in front of her as though it was 
just pretence, fictional, protecting her emotions from 
the scene before her. Was it rape? She'd encouraged 
Kris, she'd heard herself ask him to fuck her deeper, 
yet she'd also heard herself say no.

Kris, who Beth had thought had been close to climax 
some time earlier, had a second wind but he was now 
building up to a crescendo, his movements extreme, his 
actions fast and furious.

Beth was on the receiving end, her poor pussy pounded 
by Kris' enormous cock.

"Faster!" Beth implored, occasionally screaming as the 
emormous organ would hit a nerve, causing pain. "Stop 
it, stop it, shit it hurts..." she'd exclaimed.

"I'm coming in your cunt," Kris declared. A cheer came 
from the spectators at the door.

"Make me come" Beth squealed, the GHB cheating her on 
her, making her body want Kris more than her mind did, 
her capillaries filled to capacity, engorging her pussy 
lips, making her feel horny.

Beth's body began to tense up and the creep visibly 
paled as he thought Beth might bring her teeth crushing 
down on his erection within her mouth. Kris pulled her 
hips into his, his strong muscular frame forcing 
himself as deep into her as he could. They both held 
their breaths as they came, Kris ejaculating in Beth a 
split second before her orgasm struck, joined in 
copulation as they climaxed. Beth felt Kris' sperm flow 
into her, gushing with a geyser, warm and frothy, 
pumping into her waiting pussy. He muscles tightened 
and for a few moments, she could feel Kris' racing 
heart beat from the pulse in his cock which her pussy 
lips were stretched against.

They both collapsed, she onto the creeps lap, Kris onto 
Beth's back. The dozen or so observers had grown to 
around three dozen and they all gave a cheer and a 
round of applause. Beth remained face down, staring eye 
to eye with the one eyed snake that belonged to Si.

Kris was still working on his own agenda, removing 
himself from Beth and watching the semen dribble from 
her pussy lips, the whiteness against the tan of her 
legs in total contrast. He held up a hand and punched 
the air like some over paid soccer player. 

Beth had trouble regaining her breath, the GHB within 
the concoction had made her feel very faint and she 
remained on her knees. Beth recalled how Si had 
insisted that she help his cock go soft, and had been 
vulgar in his attempts to get her to suck him off. She 
recalled how he removed himself from the sofa and how 
she had collapsed on to the soft sweat-stained leather, 
resting her head on her outstretched arms.

Beth had been unaware that Allan had been going crazy 
downstairs, evident that Beth had either not got his 
text message or had ignored his request to come down in 
10 minutes. Maybe she'd got into trouble. Allan had 
tried acquiring a VIP pass, he'd been to the office and 
negotiated hard. No, he didn't qualify for a pass, he 
wasn't a member, couldn't join without ID such as his 
passport, which he'd left back at the villa, and was 
told in no uncertain terms to piss off! Allan had found 
himself frustrated and flustered. He'd tried sneaking 
into the staff areas to find a back way up to the VIP 
lounge but all the doors were protected with security 
doors which required pass codes.

"Shit!" Allan cursed under his breath. How the fuck 
could he get upstairs and past the security guys. He 
recalled being regally ejected from a club a week 
earlier when Beth had been abducted, how he'd tried to 
negotiate his way out of the situation, to search the 
ladies toilet for Beth, to find her and save her from 
the fate that maybe awaited her. He recalled how he'd 
been ceremoniously dumped onto the pavement, his ego 
more bruised than his body.

He stuck his hands in his pockets as he leaned back 
against a wall, the thumping bass line making the wall 
vibrate. His hands turned over the contents in his 
pockets. He felt the wad of Euros in his pocket, the 
notes feeling dry against his clammy hands as he stared 
at the ceiling, his mind churning over in much the same 
way as his stomach was churning, his anxiety resulting 
in greater release of adrenalin, making his pulse race 
faster, his body sweating all over.

Suddenly, the penny (or should it be the Euro) dropped. 
He pulled out the notes and looked at them, unfolding 
them and counting. 

"Hmm, I wonder..." he said to himself. Allan stood and 
gathered his thoughts, standing tall and confident. He 
wandered up to the stairwell and approached the 
security officers.

"Hi guys" he said, reaching into his back pocket, 
giving the impression he was searching for his pass. He 
frowned as though he was feigning concern at being 
unable to locate his VIP pass.

"Bugger! I think I've left it upstairs" Allan said 
confidently, "Don't suppose you'd let me go upstairs 
and get it?"

The security guys looked at him suspiciously.

"No, honest!" Allan replied, convincingly. "Look, how 
about I remind you..." he said, pulling out a roll of 
Euros, "...are you beginning to remember?" he said, 
peeling off the notes. Initially, he thought they were 
going to get rough, their body language seeming 
confrontational but they were shielding his actions 
from the rest of the clubbers.

"I begin to remember a little..." the first security 
officer stated. 

"I need a little more help remembering" the second one 
piped in. Allan had already kept some notes in another 
pocket to pay for drinks and the cab home. He counted 
off the remainder of the notes he had in his hand.

"Oh, yes, I remember," the larger one said, relieving 
Allan of all the money in his hand. Allan smiled 
sweetly and mounted the stairs, two at a time in case 
they changed their mind.

Allan reached the top of the stairs and he caught his 
breath, his guts churned as he pondered the fate of his 
dear Beth. Where the fuck was she?

He wandered around the upstairs area known as the VIP 
lounge. Allan was shocked but amazed by the scenes 
before him, couples or groups involved in behavior 
normally reserved for the expensive pay sites on the 
internet.

It had dawned on Allan that Beth might be involved in 
such lewd behavior, that she might be in some sort of 
peril. His heart leapt at the thought and he began to 
sweat profusely. His manner became more manic, more 
desperate as he searched, unable to find her. He found 
a big crowd around a doorway which he couldn't see 
past, so he continued his search which had been 
fruitless. 

He made his way back to the doorway with the crowd and 
managed to barge his way into a position where he could 
see. His heart sank as he saw the Blond guy remove his 
cock from her pussy, semen oozing from the tip and 
Allan knew he'd let Beth down, he'd been too late. But 
had it not been her who had told him not to interfere. 
She had no idea that Allan was amongst the crowd who 
was witnessing her being fucked by Kris. And who the 
fuck was the short dumpy Jewish looking bloke?

Beth gazed out of the tiny port hole window of the 
plane as it came through the clouds, the overcast 
weather of the UK exactly as the skipper had announced 
on the tannoy. She had done this flight many times and 
knew they were less than 90 seconds away from 
touchdown, the thoughts of repossessing baggage, 
passport control and customs before they could catch 
the coach back to the Midlands, another 4 hours of road 
journey ahead of them filled her with misery. She hated 
coming home anyway, leaving the holiday weather and 
vacation activities behind and the additional 4 hours 
on the road, assuming the M25 was behaving itself was 
depressing, especially when you ache all over.

Yet the thought of leaving the misery behind, the 
various characters who'd fucked her stupid was quite 
uplifting. Back to reality, back to normal life, just 
her and Allan. Right now, that's just what she needed. 
Traffic congestion around the Bullring was decidedly 
more appealing than another Tequila Sunrise.

Beth had some vague recollection of Simon, the Cockney 
creep, subjecting her to his evil ways, screwing her 
whilst she was on her knees, leant against the sofa. 

She'd been unaware that Allan had seen Kris remove his 
cock from her pussy, that Allan had watched, helplessly 
as she sucked Si's cock for a while before he, too had 
entered her doggy style, his smaller cock barely 
touching the sides of her now overstretched vagina.

Beth had floated in and out of consciousness, aware of 
various sensations but not necessarily on chronological 
order, she had no idea who had been responsible for the 
licking the remnants of sperm from her pussy, the 
sucking of nipples, the stroking of her inner thighs. 
She recalled trying to stand up at one point, her legs 
all wobbly like a newborn baby deer, noticing her inner 
thighs all crackly where some semen had leaked and 
dried against her soft velvety skin. 

Various people were gazing at her though the doorway, 
some had been so aroused that they themselves were 
involved in lewd acts, their bodies exposed to the 
smoke filled club. Beth was distantly aware that the 
dance floor had already been foamed and the revelers 
faces were covered in white bubbles, their faces 
looking like Santa Claus. She was delirious in the way 
that intoxicated people are, reality being something 
that happens to other people. 

Beth had initially been unaware of Simon's stubby 
fingers stroking her pussy as he fucked her, his 
fingers stimulating her clitoris, the motion combined 
with the drugs bringing Beth to yet another climax. 
Beth had remembered how, in her own mind, she'd tried 
to fight the sensation, to resist but Simon had been 
persistent, his fingers working her up to glorious 
climax. Beth had shaken her head in defiance of her 
body, the body that was cheating her, permitting this 
cockney shit-bag to fuck her.

"You're not a bad lay, Beth," Simon had said, the 
comment meant to be a compliment. He was in his late 
20's and still lived at home with his mum, a 
domineering Jewish woman who treated him like a 4 year 
old. Simon had very little control in his life, he 
worked for his father's fashion business and his life 
had been mapped out in front of him. 

Sure, he had a decent bank balance, his own pad at 
Temple Fortune, a season ticket for Spurs, a Merc and 
lots of friends from the synagogue but no girl friend, 
other than some of the typical gold diggers who sniffed 
around him when he got flash with his cash. But 
usually, Simon only got laid by women he'd paid. But 
here he was, in Ibiza, with a woman who was not only 
incredibly attractive, beautiful even, but fucking 
horny, too! 

He wished he'd had his mobile phone with him, he'd take 
a digital photo of himself fucking this sexy lady and 
send it as an MMS message to everyone he knew. Well, 
maybe not his mum, but everyone else. That would be the 
only way anyone would believe him. They'd seen through 
his bullshit when he climbed mount Kilimanjaro or 
having a lunch date with Jack Straw but this was 
genuine. No fucker would believe him. 

Beth recalled more vividly the images of Simon fucking 
her, his short tubby frame pressing his engorged organ 
into her cunt, his breathing laboured as he thrust 
himself in and out of her sweet pussy. Her lucidity had 
fluctuated more than her hormones around her period.

Simon had screwed a few women before and was certainly 
no virgin, but this was like he was loosing his 
virginity for the very first time, a man on a mission. 
He vowed to pretend she had taken his virginity to 
everyone, that Beth had deflowered him. He'd heard the 
big blond bloke call her Beth so he used her name to 
add to his own ego boost.

"I love fucking you Beth. Do you like me fucking you?" 
he asked, wanting his ego to be boosted even more. Beth 
could barely talk, her climax was almost upon her, her 
breathing becoming more rapid and shallow as his 
fingers continually circled over her clit, something 
he'd seen Kris do to her earlier with interesting 
results. It had dawned on Simon that sometimes you need 
to stimulate the woman, too! He'd remember that trick 
for next time. 

Beth had inadvertently thrust back on his erection, her 
climax overtaking her like a junkie on speed as she 
tumbled over the edge, her muscles tensing, exerting 
pressure on Simon's penis as though it was being sucked 
hard, the sensation causing Simon to reach his climax, 
he too had now cum inside her, filling her most 
personal of areas with his horrid cockney spunk, only 
for Kris to return for another turn. 

She had passed out soon after, a combination of 
everything sending her into the oblivion that 
unconsciousness offers, yet vaguely aware of some of 
the antics of those around her. She sensed more than 
anything Kris enter her again, fucking her with his 
incredibly thick cock, aware of her nipples being 
tweaked, aware of him emptying the contents of his 
bollocks into her for a second time, the force of his 
ejaculation making her jump, like someone had shouted 
"Boo" to her. 

Kris had felt obligated to permit Simon his 
opportunity, it had been an unwritten rule that sharing 
was expected, but Kris also knew that she was his 
'kill' and he had the overpowering right to her. He 
couldn't believe his luck as he entered her for a 
second time, stretching her pussy lips again to the 
extreme, she felt so tight against him and he'd found 
the sensation exquisite. Add Beth's unbelievable beauty 
and charms, and a lovely pair of tits to boot, he'd 
found his second climax came too quickly. He'd 
regretted the fact but at least he'd had a second turn. 
God, she was so fucking horny. 

Kris had entered her from behind as he had done so 
earlier, access easy thanks to his and Simon's spunk 
making her vagina wet and slippery. Kris had expected 
to ride Beth again, her exhaustion permitting him a 
second turn. Kris had not expected the concoction of 
drugs to have quite the effect it did, He felt Beth 
maneuver herself off of his enormous erection and 
assumed she was trying to terminate the session. Beth 
had, in fact, regained a level of consciousness, albeit 
limited, as her mind continued to play tricks on her, 
convincing her it was a role play with Allan, that the 
entire scenario was just a game. 

Kris had been initially disappointed when Beth had 
disengaged herself from him until he felt Beth use her 
slender frame to push him to the floor so he was sat on 
the ground, his back pressed against the sofa as she 
knelt over his hips, holding his erection in her naked 
left hand before placing it against the lips of her 
pussy. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, she lowered 
herself on to his manhood, the sensation filling her 
completely. 

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down on her knees as 
she worked herself towards her next climax, her eyes 
lightly closed, mumbling something Kris could not quite 
comprehend. Kris didn't care, he had not just fucked 
this lovely woman, but now she was fucking him. His 
eyes watched her boobs bounce as she rocked herself on 
his cock, his hands reaching up to touch and caress her 
breasts.

Beth sighed deeply, lost in her own world again, her 
body defying her, enabling her to have sex with this 
total stranger, but also her mind defied her, tricking 
her into thinking it was just another fantasy with 
Allan. Yet deep down in her own heart, she knew it 
wasn't Allan, the size of the beast inside her 
confirmed that, the girth stretching her like a condom 
over an erection. 

"Fuck me" she whispered, the words almost inaudible 
over the music from the floor below. Kris humped her 
for all his worth, his own excitement building. Beth's 
actions became more definite, greater pace and depth, 
her hips grinding into his, his pubic hair tickling her 
clitoris. 

Suddenly, Kris felt her hands against his face, 
followed by her tongue in his mouth, her bouncing 
action more intense, faster she bounced on his lap, 
pressing herself onto him with all her weight, 
maximizing the penetration.

She disengaged her mouth.

"Oh, fuuuuuuuck!" she squealed as she came again on the 
monster cock that had given her an immense amount of 
pleasure. Almost instantly, Kris felt a tingling 
sensation in his scrotum, thrusting his hips up into 
hers, forcing her into the air with his powerful thighs 
as he, too, reached glorious climax, ejaculating into 
her, filling her with sperm, his Swedish sperm, the 
white sticky fluid gushing into her, filling her, ready 
to impregnate her.

He'd sat with her on his lap for several minutes, 
enjoying the feeling of her pulse against his erection. 
He'd gently moved her to the sofa before gathering up 
his clothes and leaving the cubicle, giving her a 
gentle kiss on the forehead before he left.

Neither Beth nor Allan spoke to Kris as he left the VIP 
room, the crowd dissipating as he finished. Allan had 
rushed in and comforted Beth who had been in and out of 
consciousness for the entire episode. She'd recognized 
Allan and smiled, believing for a moment it had just 
been a fantasy role play and that the "E" had over 
exaggerated the mental images. Allan knelt next to Beth 
for more than half an hour, she still naked, as she 
regained some lucidity.

Beth felt a jerk as the plane tyres touched down on the 
tarmac and even in her emotionally disturbed state, she 
smiled. It hadn't been the first jerk she'd experienced 
this holiday, she mused to herself. Beth was astonished 
that even in the face of adversity, she was still able 
to conjure up some mirth from deep within her psyche. 
Maybe she should retrain as a psychologist or counselor 
or something? Maybe not! She didn't feel she had her 
own answers, let alone facilitating someone finding 
their own answers.

Beth's mind continued to wander as the airbus taxied 
along the apron towards the terminus, thinking again 
about the humor within. She had recalled how, when Kris 
was teasing her with his mega large cock, she had 
suggested that he should "Save a virgin, fuck me 
instead!" Kris had not needed a second invitation as 
she recalled, her pussy being stretched again to its 
absolute limit. Had she been in fantasy mode then? Had 
she been in reality? Had she been in drugged up and 
rat-arsed mode? Fuck knows. Allan had heard her and 
felt disgusted yet simultaneously aroused. He guessed 
she was under the influence of something.

Beth felt the plane roll to a halt and the engine noise 
simmer down as they were switched off, the passengers 
around her standing up to repossess their bags from the 
overhead lockers but she remained sat down, snuggled up 
to Allan who, himself, was happy to let the madness of 
Brits on holiday overtake them. There was no hurry, 
they were back on terra firma and in good old Blighty!

Beth closed her eyes, trying to hide her embarrassment. 
She would never confess this to Allan, but she had 
really enjoyed much of the sex she'd experienced on 
holiday. It had started with her and Allan bonking like 
rabbits as though their lives depended on it which, in 
itself was not unusual. They had play acted together, 
then she'd acceded to Allan's request and teased Juan, 
getting herself into the situation far too deep to 
wriggle out of it. 

She recalled passing out but prior to that, having had 
unbelievable sensations of an enormous cock buried deep 
inside her, the likes she'd never experienced before, 
even when Allan had suggested the use of a marital 
aide. Then, there was Kris, who had stretched her labia 
apart so far, she thought she'd split in two. She 
laughed to herself, but it was a humourless laugh. At 
least she'd have few problems delivering a baby if ever 
she got pregnant! 

She'd even pondered on her previous comments a week or 
so earlier to Allan when she'd convinced him that size 
was unimportant, that technique was better. She'd even 
convinced herself. That was until she had met Kris, his 
very size had aroused and enchanted every nerve cell in 
her body like she'd never ever experienced before. And 
these sensations had occurred from both her front 
entrance and the tradesman's entrance! Sex without love 
is just fucking, sex with love is something special, 
making love is more than physical, it's emotional, 
spiritual and ...well, all sorts of things. 

Yet wild rampant sex was still something that Beth 
needed and, until recently, sex with Allan could be 
achieved as role playing within their little fantasy 
world. But fantasy sex with someone she perceived as 
Allan, or who Allan approved of, was exciting and 
different. It wasn't special in the same way as love 
making was, but Beth knew she needed a combination of 
someone to make love to her and someone to fuck her. 
She wondered if Allan could fulfill both roles, if 
she'd be satisfied with just Allan. The alternatives, 
however, were potentially hazardous and emotionally 
destructive. She recalled the cocky little Londoner 
who'd punished her.

Beth closed her eyes tighter, trying to shut out the 
image of Simon, the cockney wide-boy who she was sure 
had ravaged her whilst she was unconscious. She'd never 
be able to prove it, nor would she ever want to relive 
the matter but she was certain he'd not let the 
opportunity pass him by. As far as she was concerned, 
however, she'd experienced Kris in all her holes and 
that was it. That's what she'd told Allan and, for now 
he'd been content with that, and that is what Beth had 
tried to convince herself with, unaware that Allan had 
seen some of what had gone on. But her self conviction 
didn't always work, as she recalled her views on size 
and technique.

"Come on, sweetheart," Allan prompted, noticing the 
plane was almost empty of passengers. He stood to get 
their things from the locker above them. He handed Beth 
her small clutch bag which she had her passport in, the 
very same clutch bag she'd had that fateful night with 
Kris. Beth held it close to her body, aware that 
together with her passport and a few Euros. She'd not 
had the opportunity or, in fairness, the inclination to 
use the darned thing. She felt guilty about it but 
Allan had not asked her about it and she'd not offered 
any information. Economic with the facts! Beth believed 
she was getting so good at bullshit, maybe she could be 
the next US president or UK Prime Minister!!!

The cool polluted London air hit them as the departed 
the plane, a long way from the soaring temperatures of 
Ibiza, the hot beating sun, the warm sea breezes, the 
refreshing odour of nearby lemon groves and other 
citrus orchards.

Beth had made a pact with herself, that never again 
would she let situations get out of control or put her 
in a position of being unable to make her own 
decisions. Sure, the alcohol and stuff hadn't helped, 
it had made her hornier than she might have preferred. 
On reflection, however, she'd never been so fulfilled, 
certainly not sexually, and that was not a poor 
reflection on Allan. 

She sighed to herself, wishing she'd sown her wild oats 
before she settled down with Allan, he was a darned 
good bloke and didn't deserve her infidelities. He'd 
been true to her all through their marriage, it was a 
shame she couldn't say the same. Yet, it had been his 
idea, his own suggestions that had lead her into such a 
situation so whilst she felt guilty, the guilt was 
offset by the knowledge that Allan had been as much 
responsible for the affair – poor choice of words – as 
she had.

They had wandered through the terminus, joining the 
long queue for passport control and Beth could still 
feel the crinkling on her thighs. She'd bathed, 
showered and dipped in the pool so many times yet still 
she could feel the sensation of semen, some one else's 
semen dribbling onto her thigh and drying out. She felt 
dirty, yet exhilarated.

That had been five days ago. Now they were home, Allan 
was another year older thanks to a birthday and she was 
...what? Older? Wiser? More experienced? A slut? 

What confused her more was Allan. He was carrying on 
like nothing had happened, just another day in 
paradise. She had gone through hell and high water, put 
herself through a series of degrading experiences, been 
subjected to rough sex, unprotected sex, group sex and 
in front of an audience yet Allan was behaving like all 
she'd done was to put the kettle on! Was Allan a 
voyeur? Evidently, yes. But was she enough for him? 
Beth hoped so, she'd sacrificed so much to keep Allan 
interested, she loved him so deeply, she'd acceded to 
his demands only because she loved him so much.

They milled through passport control and into the 
baggage reclaim area, Allan getting a trolley to put 
their cases on. They'd been in the airport for some 
time, content in each others company yet very few words 
being spoken. Beth desperately wanted to talk about her 
experiences, a problem shared is a problem halved and 
all that old baloney. But what could she say?

"Hey, Allan! What was the best part of your holiday? My 
favourite part was when I was gang fucked!" She could 
hardly say that. She couldn't tell Allan that she'd 
fantasized about fucking him when she was riding on 
Juan's erection. She felt terrible about confessing 
that she'd found Kris fantastic, his dick touching 
parts of her she never knew existed. That even when 
Kris had fucked her anus, she'd actually enjoyed it, 
felt very little pain. Hell, what the fuck had he put 
in that drink of hers? Whatever drugs were in the 
drink, it must have been darned strong! Should she tell 
Allan?

No, she'd keep that to herself. Maybe she'd confess to 
one of her girl friends later, if she thought she could 
trust them. What a responsibility for them, though, to 
keep a secret of that magnitude to themselves. If Allan 
ever found out, he'd be devastated. How could he love a 
cock hungry tart like her, little knowing that she'd 
had very little control, that the concoction of 
substances had overpowered her reasoning. No, Allan 
must never find out. Beth knew that as much as she 
needed to get it off her chest, she might just need to 
keep the secret to herself. She had no idea that Allan 
had witnessed pretty much all of it.

She was so in love with Allan yet sex with other guys 
was great, or was sex with the guys she portrayed in 
her own mind, as part of her fantasy role playing 
great. This was more than soft swing, this was full 
sex, no holds barred. And it was blooming great whilst 
stoned or pissed. In the cold light of day, however, 
Beth was in two minds.

"Smile!" Allan suggested. Beth looked up into his eyes 
and saw the love within them. How could she not smile 
when he looked at her that way.

"That's better" Allan said, pushing the trolley laden 
with their luggage. "I don't want you looking guilty as 
we go through customs!"

It took a few seconds for Beth to realize he was 
joking. The she smiled.

"Why? What are you packing?" she said, teasing him.

"Oh, you never know!" Allan said, coyly. Beth patted 
his jeans with the palm of her hands.

"Are you trying to smuggle a giant Frankfurter or are 
you just pleased to see me?" she joked.

"Frisk me and you'll find out," he said. They both 
laughed. One thing was for certain and she'd told Allan 
on the night she'd visited the VIP lounge that "Things 
might never be the same again." Beth would never 
realize just how true that might turn out to be.

Allan smiled as she placed her arm in his and they 
wandered through the airport like lovers on a first 
date, their honeymoon period still in full swing. 
Swing! Allan pondered the thought. Could the word ever 
mean anything else to him one day? He doubted it.

"So," Beth said, interrupting his thoughts.

"So? What?" he asked, looking into her dreamy eyes, his 
heart melting as always as he did so.

"Where are you taking me for my birthday then?" she 
asked. Fear spread across Allan's face, the thought of 
another holiday like this one, his wife's cunt being 
plundered by another (an another and another...)

Beth smiled at him.

"Silly arse!" she said, playfully poking him in the 
ribs. "I don't want a surprise holiday for my birthday" 
she said, noticing relief spread across Allan's face. 
He breathed a deep sigh and Beth giggled.

"But I tell you what I would like," she said, her hint 
dropping not in the slightest bit subtle.

"Anything," Allan replied, glad the holiday was out of 
the question.

"Are you familiar with the word 'Maserati'?" she asked. 
Allan's face paled again as they left the airport 
through the sliding doors. Then he realized the joke.

"I thought you'd be better with a Harley Davidson" 
Allan replied trying to contain a smirk, "You know, 
something hot and throbbing between your legs..."

Beth clouted him with her clutch bag.


Chapter 11 
----------

Allan sat at his computer and sighed. His holiday was 
over and it was back to the routine of work and, as 
he'd expected, his email box was jammed solid with 
emails. He guessed it'd take him a week to read, answer 
and delete his emails by which time, another load would 
have descended upon him. Reports here, accounts there, 
requisitions, meetings, memos.

Allan sighed deeply, if only he'd won the lottery, he 
wouldn't need to bother with all this shit. Allan made 
a mental note to send his next email to Mystic Meg and 
see if she could pick his numbers this week! It was a 
crap idea but it was the best he could muster on a 
Monday morning he mused to himself.

"Welcome back, Allan," a familiar voice called. Allan 
turned and saw his colleague, the one that had 
introduced him to the concept of soft swing. "You have 
a good holiday?"

Allan nodded although his face told a different story.

"What's the matter, mate?" 

"I'm not sure myself," Allan said. He looked like a guy 
who'd lost a fiver and found 50 pence, his emotions 
creating wrinkles on his young 25 year old face, the 
likes you'd normally expect on a 45 year old face.

"I don't like having a glum chum, tell you what. I'll 
buy you a pint at lunchtime, you can tell me all about 
it," he said, patting Allan on the shoulder and 
wandering off to his meeting, a folder full of charts 
and figures to bore his audience with. It was one step 
short of death by powerpoint. 

Allan was in no mood to discuss his private affairs – 
bad choice of words! His private life then. God, he'd 
felt excited, elated, aroused, curious, horny yet, 
simultaneously, he felt disappointed, saddened, 
depressed, cheated, foolish. He'd encouraged Beth to 
indulge in his fetishes and fantasies, he'd only 
himself to blame. 

His buddy had consoled Allan over lunch at the local 
wine bar as they tucked into their Coronation Chicken 
baguettes. 

"Beth must be one in a million mate," his friend had 
said having just swallowed a mouthful of crusty bread 
roll. "She must be so devoted to you, you're so lucky"

"What do you mean, lucky? She's allowed other guys to 
fuck her. She's married to me, I thought that meant 
something," Allan sighed, gazing at his food but having 
no appetite.

"You silly arse! None so blind as those who will not 
see!" the colleague stated. He'd known Allan for some 
time and felt comfortable being honest with him, even 
if it meant being quite curt. "I don't know that many 
wives who'd go to those levels to accommodate their 
husband's whims and fancies, I can tell you. She's 
obviously so devoted to you. Most guys would give their 
left arm for a woman like that."

"A woman who cheats?" Allan said, not really meaning 
what he said but unable to find the correct words.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, get your brain out of your pants, 
will you? I mean a woman who would even consider 
teasing another guy just to boost their hubbie's ego. 
I've been involved in the soft swing scene for a few 
years and I can tell you, there ain't many women who'd 
be prepared to go to that level and those that do are 
usually lacking something in their relationships so 
they need to look for something more. You and Beth 
don't need to..." he said, pausing to sip his half 
finished Guinness, "...you have so much with each 
other, you guys are so in tune. It's like you're still 
newly weds 3 years into your marriage. Christ, even 
Posh & Becks couldn't brag like that. No, what you guys 
have got is special, never forget that"

Allan sighed. He knew his mate had a point but he was 
having trouble seeing the wood for the trees.

"I can't forget that, it's true," Allan agreed. 
"There's other things I can't forget either. And 
besides, it seems Beth forgot what we have...or should 
I say, had!"

"Oh break out with the violins, shall we?" his mate 
asked, pretending to play an air-violin, "Stop feeling 
sorry for yourself. She did it 'cos you, not her, you 
wanted her to. You got reservations, beat yourself up 
but don't take it out on Beth. She'd the innocent one 
in all of this and, from what you've told me, she's 
been to hell and back. She needs your support and your 
love. She's made the ultimate sacrifice for you, the 
least you can do is repay her by loving her. Nothing's 
changed from Beth's perspective, she still loves you. 
Can you say the same about her?"

Allan drew breath to give his mate a piece of his 
mind... then paused. Bollocks! His mate was right, he'd 
hit the nail on the head.

"I've been a prize pillock, haven't I?" Allan asked, 
meekly. His mate nodded.

"Prize Champion Pillock. You always aim to be the champ 
and on this occasion, you've won Gold, my friend!"

Allan gave his colleague a sideways glance showing an 
air of contempt yet 99% appreciation. Then he smiled.

"Thanks for that. You've made me realize what I had, I 
still have. I was just being blinkered, my vision 
blurred by my own ego. Cheers!"

His friend held up his now empty Guinness glass. "Fill 
her up and we'll call it quits" he said, smiling. Allan 
stood to go to the bar when his friend looked Allan in 
the eye.

"What are you guys doing next weekend, the 15th?" he 
asked.

"Nothing," Allan replied after a brief pause. "Why?"

"Well..." his friend said, standing and walking to the 
bar with Allan, "...there's some friends of mine 
throwing a party over towards Sutton Coldfield, I think 
you'd like the party. Plenty of alcohol and some 
'stuff'..." he motioned inverted comma's with his 
fingers, "...and you can stop over if you want, so you 
don't have to drive. We're all pretty laid back and it 
may get a little raunchy but you guys can come and just 
watch if you want, the hostess is lovely, Caron her 
name is and she and her husband, Richard have..."

"Hold it," Allan said, "Is this one of your swinging 
parties?"

"Don't knock it before you've tried it" his mate said, 
patting Allan on the shoulder. "Think about it and let 
me know."

Allan turned to place his order at the bar. Of course 
he'd tell his mate straight away what his answer would 
be. "No." But Allan never said the word. His mate had 
just told him some home truths and he'd certainly been 
100% accurate with that. The least Allan could do was 
to give the party some thought.

Maybe, he'd politely forget to give his friend an 
answer. Maybe he'd talk to Beth. Maybe he'd invite Beth 
and feign surprise when the party got into full 'swing' 
as it were.

Maybe. For now, he'd just get the drinks in and mull 
the idea over...


Chapter 12
----------

The months passed and the seasons changed, yet the 
passion and love between Beth and Allan merely grew, 
their relationship strengthening like your grip on the 
arm of the dentists chair. Infidelities were ignored 
and love blossomed. 

Interestingly enough, the fantasies and role plays 
continued, although with a more subdued approach but 
the consequential result was the same. Fucking good 
sex! Who needed soft swing anyway?

Beth and Allan shagged as though their lives depended 
on it, that Oxygen was second only to ravishing each 
other's bodies at any conceivable opportunity. And they 
took most opportunities. The sauna at a well known 
plush hotel in Hinckley was probably their most 
adventurous, the glass door from the pine-wood sauna 
room allowing passers by wandering to and from the pool 
an ideal angle to see Allan enter Beth from behind, 
lifting her bra top over her globes and fondling her 
tits whilst pounding her cunt.

Or the event of a quiet drink one Sunday afternoon by 
the river Avon when Beth had given Allan a hand (or a 
hand job to be more precise) under the picnic table at 
a local pub.

Beth had grown in confidence, wearing skimpy underwear 
was once something kept simply in the bedroom but 
recently, Beth had taken to wearing many of the items 
of lingerie Allan had bought her as everyday underwear 
items. These, combined with her usual wardrobe of sexy 
clothing, had increased her sexuality, made her even 
more of a sex icon as they wandered round the Bull-ring 
shopping centre on a Saturday or as they strolled 
around many of the local beauty spots. She even looked 
dashing when she went with Allan to watch the football, 
despite her teasing Allan that his favourite soccer 
team should be called, "Aston Villa nil!"

It was their similar tastes to life in general, their 
similar sense of humour and their total devotion to 
each other that set them apart from the crowd. Their 
relationship had become stronger, their love had 
evolved into total bonding and they were inseparable. 
Not to say they didn't have their own friends and 
socialised separately, but they needed each other as 
much as a junkie craves crack. Except Allan craved a 
different sort of crack! Beth's! 

Sure, they had their spells of bickering as well, which 
is normal and healthy in any type of relationship. It 
only added to the strength of their relationship and 
their love flourished.

It was a cold and miserable Saturday morning and Beth 
had surfaced from her slumber, donning a dressing gown 
and picking the post from the door mat.

She opened the white envelope because it didn't look 
like the brown envelopes which were usually a demand 
for money. It was a wedding invitation. A cousin was 
getting married in Jamaica. Wow! Both she and Allan 
were invited. Beth had yearned to go to the Caribbean 
and this was the perfect opportunity.

Beth's mind began to wander, visions of silver sand and 
crystal clear water, the sound of jet ski's and the 
taste of coconut rum, a gentle breeze blowing in over 
the Gulf cooling the effects of the sun on her scantily 
clad body. Heaven!

It would be as far away from the Midlands of Britain as 
she could want to be, a week or two of relaxation 
without the local pressures of work and routine. She'd 
heard there were some pretty good clubs out there, too 
as the locals were so chilled out which was in total 
contrast to the climate. Visions of tall local lads 
dressed in sleeveless shirts playing basketball flitted 
into her mind, the taste of freshly caught local fish. 
In Beth's mind, she'd already landed and cleared 
customs!

A change of scenery would be just what she needed right 
now, a chance to catch up on some reading, writing 
letters, re-assembling her thoughts. The last few 
months had been a period Beth would rather not have 
happened yet somehow, she was pleased that it had, the 
result having moulded her attitude and approach beyond 
previous belief. What the heck was wrong with her? 
Nothing was wrong. But she did feel different. Mentally 
different, that is.

Confidence was always part of her personality yet she 
seemed truly confident, more definite in her total 
approach to life. Had she just been putting on an act, 
pretending to be confident? Beth still couldn't work it 
out in her own mind, but whatever the result, she felt 
a million dollars. Being totally infatuated with her 
husband may well have had something to do with it.

Beth placed the invitation back in the envelope as she 
padded into the kitchen and absent mindedly switched 
the kettle on, almost like she was on auto pilot. Her 
body was here in the kitchen but her mind was thousands 
of miles away, soaking up the sun on the beach. 

She sat at the breakfast bar, gazing out of the window, 
the dull overcast clouds making the Saturday morning 
gloomy, the remnants of the previous shower still 
dripping down the kitchen window, endeavouring to bring 
Beth back to reality. She pulled a mild grimace on her 
face as her warped mind mulled over the weather 
forecast from the previous evening, the forecaster 
describing the general synopsis as a large depression 
over the region. She laughed to herself but the laugh 
had no humour in it. Depression summed up not just the 
weather but her emotions at that moment. Beth turned 
the envelope in her hand over and over on the surface 
of the table and her smile returned but this time, with 
genuine delight.

"Jamaica" she whispered to herself. "Jamaica." Her eyes 
glazed over in her daydream, the rivulets of rain on 
the window pane no longer visible, her mind saw beyond 
the glass, beyond the visible horizon. Palm trees and 
lush hills, the sound of distant reggae music and 
motorcycles rung through her ears, drowning out the 
sound of the electric kettle boiling and switching 
itself off.

Allan surfaced half an hour later, the vacant space in 
his bed forcing him to go in search of the woman who 
told him "I do." By this time, Beth was in a buoyant 
mood, swanning around the kitchen like Torvill and 
Dean. The CD player played a selection of classic Bob 
Marley tunes and Beth joyfully busied herself in the 
kitchen, creating some form of ginger cake judging by 
the aroma.

"What's all this, then?" Allan asked, scratching his 
testicles as he yawned.

"You sure know how to turn a woman on," Beth joked, 
taking in his unkempt hair. It's never like that in the 
Hollywood movies, everyone has perfect hair and make 
up, even after a night of passion. And she certainly 
couldn't imagine Patrick Swayzee or Hugh Grant rubbing 
their balls!

Allan grunted and sat at the breakfast bar, wishing he 
could reach the CD player and turn the music down a 
bit. He'd had a few drinks the night before and maybe 
one or two too many.

"Why the sudden burst of cooking and frivolity?" he 
asked, inspecting the dregs on Beth's coffee cup, 
hoping he's be able to drink hers instead of having to 
make his own.

"Sorry for being happy and gay!..." she said, "...or 
should it just be gay?..."

Allan was not quite awake enough for that type of 
humour at this time of day, especially when his mouth 
felt as dry as a desert.

"What have I got to do to get a cup of coffee around 
here?" he said, his voice humourless as his head 
pounded.

"Oh, sorry dear..." Beth said, approaching him and 
squatting down until her eyes were level with Allan's. 
"...there's a button on the top of the kettle, switch 
it on and the water boils like magic!" and with that, 
she swanned off to the bathroom for a good long soak. 
Allan went to move off his stool and jarred himself.

"Bollocks!" he cursed as he crossed the kitchen.

***

Refreshed with copious amounts of caffeine, Allan 
eventually managed to get to the bathroom, Beth having 
occupied the place for so long, he thought maybe she'd 
been abducted by aliens. Her constant singing the words 
of the song "Uncle John from Jamaica keeps on calling 
every day..." rattled around Allan's ears. To make 
matters worse, not only did Allan not particularly like 
the song, it was so darned catchy, he kept singing it 
to himself, making him even more pissed off.

He looked at Beth, his eyes confused and uncertain. 
Beth, on the other hand, danced around the lounge like 
she was a member of the Bolshoi Ballet, her mood high 
and happy. She glided over to Allan, her smile beaming 
and radiant, handing him an envelope. Allan looked at 
her quizzically, his head tilted slightly. He hadn't 
seen Beth this motivated and happy for some time and it 
was a pleasant change.

He read the card inside and nodded his head in much the 
same way that Courtney Walsh would do when he took a 
wicket. It was beginning to fall into place, the 
inclement weather outside and the mental picture of a 
Caribbean break made Allan burst into smile himself. 
They'd saved some money for a holiday but following 
their escapades on their previous break, they'd not 
actually got around to booking anything.

"So, are we going or what?" Beth beamed, her smile as 
infectious as the flu. Allan tried to keep a stern face 
but poker face soon gave way to the grin that bloomed 
within. He grabbed Beth by the waist and twirled her 
round, nestling his face into her neck.

"Bloody stupid question. Of course we're going" he 
replied, barely able to contain himself. They embraced, 
their lips meeting slowly at first but as the passion 
began to rise, so did the intensity of their kiss. 
Allan lowered Beth to the floor gently, smothering her 
body with his, pinning her to the carpet like a 
wrestler and Beth offered no resistance. 

On the contrary, she wrapped her legs around Allan, 
pulling him towards her, wanting the closeness of him 
pressed against her. Their tongues continued to wrestle 
with each other, their heavy breathing drowning out the 
sound of the rain beating against the window, the grey 
clouds overhead unable depress the feelings of the 
couple as clothes were unceremoniously removed, 
garments filling the air like a shower of linen.

"Will we need any jabs for the Caribbean?" Beth asked 
after drawing breath from the elongated kiss. Allan 
smiled.

"Don't know. But just in case, I'll give you an 
injection of my own," he said as he entered her. 

"Will I feel a prick?" she asked, jovially. Allan loved 
it when they fooled around during sex. 

"You might feel a bit foolish!" he responded. She 
slapped him playfully on his exposed buttocks.

"Oh, I do hope it's a big prick," she whispered in 
Allan's ear. Allan continued but his mind started off 
at a tangent, his mind slipping back all those months 
ago when his lovely wife was fucked by Juan and his 
incredibly long penis in all her holes. Then Allan 
recalled with great intensity the blond haired 
Scandanavian, Kris, who's cock was so fat, it was 
bordering on being obese. (Or should that be obscene?). 
Whatever, Allan's mind had begun a train of thought 
which had his emotions negotiating the cape of good 
hope on a rubber dinghy.

Beth moaned as Allan made love to her, her breathing 
was fast and shallow and his hips pumped into hers, 
their pubic hair entwining as they copulated. 

"Will you inject me with serum or semen?" she panted. 
Allan smiled. God, he loved her humour. His actions 
became more intense as they fucked, his entire weight 
pressing against her, causing her arse to rub against 
the carpet.

"I thought we were flying to Jamaica. Now it feels like 
you're pushing me" she said as she found herself 
several feet across the carpet from where she started. 
Allan smiled.

"We'd by at Plymouth by now if you'd stop pushing back 
into me!" he joked. 


Chapter 13
----------

The weeks passed quickly and they found themselves 
touching down in Jamaica, the sun gold and warm, the 
sea crisp and clear. They disembarked from the long 
haul Virgin (rather inappropriately) flight wondering 
why they'd taken coats into the cabin with them, the 
rain from Britain long since forgotten. 

Warm friendly smiles greeted them as they made their 
way through the terminal and the ambience was one of 
serenity, the likes neither had ever experienced 
anywhere before, let alone in an airport. It may have 
been thirty Celsius outside but the atmosphere was 
totally chilled out. Allan wondered if he'd need his 
coat after all, to keep away the frostbite of their 
attitude!

The taxi ride was a little strange, it was almost like 
being in Malta where the road users ignore the white 
line in the middle of the road, they drove in the shade 
because it was cooler. The mountains in the distance 
took on their own beauty and a cool breeze blew 
intermittently, taking the edge off the burning 
sensation of the piping hot sun. Locals on bicycles 
rode precariously close to cliff edges as they 
journeyed through the island. Beth and Allan barely 
spoke, both taking in the scenery and atmosphere, the 
island being everything they'd imagined it to be. 

Lush green hills contrasted with barren fields as they 
travelled towards their accommodation, a large complex 
owned by Harry, an uncle of the bride groom who had 
lived in Jamaica for some years. They'd originally 
lived in Barbados as rich land owners, having moved 
from the UK back in the 1960's. Harry had inherited 
some money and had invested it wisely, doubling his 
money in just 18 months. 

He'd sold up his business ventures and taken semi 
retirement in the West Indies and had enjoyed his life 
very much, operating a tourist business in Jamaica for 
the last 12 years. All bar 2 of those years, he'd 
enjoyed with Maria, his one and only wife and soul 
mate. Beth had recalled how she'd been told about their 
relationship and it was almost like a fairy tale, full 
of dreams come true and magic wishes. 

From a very early age, Beth had yearned for a 
relationship like that and had waited patiently for the 
knight in shining armour to appear. She'd found that in 
Allan. He, to her, was her knight in shining armour. He 
had been able to provide those dreams come true, the 
magic wishes. Allan had given her love, comfort and 
fun. He was a good bloke, decent, kind, caring, 
considerate, good looking and matched her sexual 
appetite. 

Harry had run a successful tourist business, everything 
from coach excursions to the hiring of jet ski's. Maria 
had been his faithful business partner, confidant and 
lover until two years ago when she was tragically taken 
by the angels, her body riddled with cancer which had 
left her either in so much pain or so heavily drugged 
she was unable to function. Harry had nursed her 
through her sickness and when she died, his world fell 
apart. He sold his business, taking a big financial 
loss in the process, but it got him away from people 
for a while. Being a white man in Jamaica was never 
going to be easy but he'd made many friends over the 
years and they'd supported him through his hour of 
need.

Harry had resurfaced and was rebuilding his life, he 
owned a massive mansion on the more select part of the 
island and was renowned as being a local celebrity, not 
least for his resourcefulness. Still involved with 
tourists, Harry provided some creature comforts for 
those who felt home sick. A wide array of popular tea 
bags filled his small store together with typically 
British things like marmalade and Scots Porridge. It 
was a form of escapism as he kept all the things that 
Maria had loved in her life and by providing these 
goods, he was keeping her memory alive.

Now Harry's niece was getting married, he'd offered the 
use of his large mansion to accommodate some of her 
guests she'd invited and Allan and Beth were honoured 
to be amongst them.

The cab pulled up outside the electric gates and 
pressed the intercom. The gates opened and they drove 
up a gravel driveway, the tyres crunching as they 
approached the imposing white building. Two black lads 
dressed in white suits appeared and removed their 
baggage from the trunk, taking it up the steps into the 
building.

Harry bounded down the steps, his movements belying his 
66 years, looking like a man 20 years younger. 
Obviously the Caribbean way of life had suited him 
well.

"You must be Beth," he said, holding out his arms for a 
hug. Beth had only met the man once when she was little 
and he'd visited the UK. His skin was tanned but very 
subtly but his accent was no longer Wolverhampton, it 
was pure Jamaica. Black country to black country in one 
foul swoop, she mused.

"It's good to see you, uncle!" she said, genuinely 
happy to see the man.

"Hey. It's Harry to you, OK? Less of the uncle!" he 
beamed, his chastisement nothing more than good humour. 
"And who's dis gentleman?" he asked, knowing full well 
Beth had been married 2 or 3 years now.

"Allow me to introduce my husband, Allan," she said, 
her palm indicating to Allan who was still taking in 
the surroundings.

"Good to see you, fellow!" Harry bellowed, shaking 
Allan by the hand so warmly the vibrations ran through 
his body to the extent he felt he would be concussed. 
"You is a very lucky man" he said, winking at Beth in a 
friendly and harmless manner. "Let me show you around, 
den we'll have some tea!" he said, placing an arm 
across Beth's shoulder and leading her into the air 
conditioned house. Inside, Beth might easily have been 
forgiven for thinking she was in a palace. Marble 
floors with marble pillars greeted them, porcelain 
ornaments and bronze statues decorated the lobby which 
was light and spacious. 

Paintings adorned the walls of the impressive 
spiralling staircase, mostly landscapes of a nautical 
nature showing big galleons or schooners with a 
backdrop of local islands. A compass mosaic was set 
into the marble at the foot of the stairs and windows 
into the bar area were actual port hole windows. 

Harry must have spent a lot of money making the house 
as he and Maria liked, the paintwork light and airy, 
occasional blue and red circles painted on the walls to 
look like safety rings and a gigantic chandelier like 
the one in the film of "Titanic." Allan almost expected 
to see Leonardo ready to shake his hand at the foot of 
the stair well.

Harry was talking to Beth, pointing out some of the 
plaster gargoyles around the ceiling but Allan was lost 
in the atmosphere. He followed them through to the area 
which had been set up like a bar, cellar as well. It 
could have been some swanky hotel for all Allan knew, 
five star rating with a nightly rate of 3 months 
salary!

"You like fish?" Harry said, interrupting Allan's 
thought process.

"Mmm? Oh, yes!" Allan responded, aware he'd been caught 
off guard, looking round for the tank he was expecting 
to find full of tropical fish.

"Good. We've got freshly caught swordfish for supper," 
he said, unaware of Allan's confused state.

"Can we see more of the island Unlce... sorry, Harry?" 
Beth asked, her voice excited like a kid on Christmas 
eve. Harry laughed out loud.

"Dere's plenty of time for dat tomorrow. I'll show you 
around personally," he grinned. "Now let Paul here show 
you to your room so you can get freshened up. Dinner is 
at seven, OK. Dress in shorts, nuttin' fancy you hear?" 
he said, his grin never receding.

A well dressed black lad escorted them to their room, 
the long winding staircase looked almost endless at one 
point. Their cases were already in their room and many 
clothes already hung from hangers in the wardrobe. 
Large patio windows lead out onto a balcony, the hills 
to one side and a view of the bay ahead of them, the 
sun glistening off the water like a mirror. Small 
yachts in the distance made small white scars in the 
water as they gently sailed across the clear sea, 
echoes of a jet plane making it's final approach 
somewhere in the distance.

Beth turned to Allan, her smile radiant and her eyes 
full of excitement.

"Well?" she said, almost hopping from one foot to the 
other.

"I've stayed in worse," Allan replied, trying to keep a 
straight face. Beth was about to thump Allan when there 
was a tap on the door. Allan walked across the room and 
opened the door to be greeted by one of the lads who'd 
brought their cases up. He was armed with a silver 
salver with cocktails on, condensation on the outside 
of the glass implying the contents of the glasses were 
ice cold. Allan took the tray and reached into his 
pocket to tip the lad but the lad smiled and shook his 
head.

"No worry sir. Harry looks after me well" the lad said 
as he turned tail and disappeared. Allan shrugged his 
shoulders and returned with the drinks.

"Old Harry's a good bloke" Allan said, handing Beth a 
drink. She took the glass and held it to her chest, her 
V neck T shirt showing an ample amount of breast. Beth 
sighed as the cold glass refreshed her warm skin. 
Allan, on the other hand, had found the straw of his 
and gulped greedily, almost choking as he swallowed.

"Fucking hell, that's potent!" he said, still coughing.

"That'll be the local rum" Beth replied. It's not like 
the dish water we get back home" she said, sipping her 
drink more tentatively. "I think you need to moderate 
your drinking whilst you're here" Beth commanded. Allan 
glared at her.

"Think I'll stick to the red stripe," he suggested. 
Beth grinned. 

"What's funny?" Allan asked, trying to regain his 
composure. Beth wandered over to him, her confidence as 
strong as ever. 

"I don't want you getting drunk," she said, 
seductively, taking his glass from him and placing it 
on a coffee table, "Someone might take advantage of 
you." She leaned up to kiss him gently.

"And who would be so cruel as to take advantage of me?" 
Allan replied as he returned her kiss. Beth pushed him 
onto the bed and hitched up her skirt.

"I would!" she replied as she mounted Allan.

***

"You see dat shack down dere?" Harry said, pointing 
directly to a wooden construction at the back of the 
beach. "Dat's where I used to run my soft ball business 
from. Most days, we'd have tirty or forty people 
playing soft ball. And just over there by dem rocks is 
where I first kissed Maria after we was married." His 
eyes welled up a little at the thought.

"I didn't know you and Maria were married out here," 
Beth said.

"Oh, yes. I brought her here to get married and we 
loved the place so much, we decided to move out here. I 
loved Barbados but Jamaica is my home now" Harry added. 
"Jamaica was always Maria's favourite and my favourite 
place was next to Maria" he grinned. Beth smiled with 
him.

"Don't you miss Wolverhampton, Harry?" Allan 
interjected. Harry looked at him.

"Are you missing Wolverhampton?" he replied. Allan 
smiled and shook his head.

"Dumb question. Sorry, Harry," Allan said. 

"Now less of de morbid stuff," Harry said, his spirit 
lifted almost instantly, the chilled out factor 
returning to his persona. "What say we get on my boat 
and do a bit of fishing. Let's see who can catch a 
shark!" he beamed and neither Allan nor Beth knew 
whether to take his comments as a challenge or a joke.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them had sailed out 
into the harbour and weighed anchor away from tourist 
and shipping channels. A fresh bottle of champagne was 
opened and Harry set up the fishing rods.

Allan sat on the roof of the bridge, loosing his shirt 
and sunning himself in his shorts and trainers.

"What's this?" Beth enquired. "It's not like you not to 
get your tackle out!" she joked.

"You fish if you want to," Allan replied, placing his 
hands behind his head, "I'm gonna worship this sun for 
a bit. It might be a long time until we see it again 
once we get home." 

"Fine, but if you don't catch anything, there'll be 
nothing for supper," Beth replied, jovially.

"Then you'd better catch us that Shark old Harry was 
telling us about," Allan replied, adjusting his Raybans 
and settling down for a well deserved snooze. Allan was 
still a little jet lagged and he could use some sleep.

Beth sat beside Harry as he cast his rod out into the 
clear blue water. Harry enjoyed being on the water, 
much of his life was spent either transporting tourists 
around the island on excursions or relaxing with his 
fishing gear.

"How's it been, then?" Beth enquired. Harry's gaze 
remained on the calm water.

"How's what been, girl?" he replied. Beth sighed.

"You know. Since you lost Maria. It must have been 
awful for you," she said, genuine concern in her eyes. 
Harry's gaze remained fixed on the horizon.


"You know girl, I tink dat Maria is happy. She was in 
so much pain and now she's not. Dat's good, that she's 
not in pain any more."

"What about your pain. You miss her terribly, don't 
you," Beth asked. Harry's eyes remained level but his 
head nodded.

"Dere's not a day go past when I don't tink about 
Maria. But she's at peace and dat's all dat matters to 
me" he said, trying to contain his emotions. Beth put 
her hand on his shoulders.

"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked. Again he 
nodded.

"Still do girl. Still do. I tell ya, love is da 
greatest ting in the world. It makes you feel all 
bubbly inside. You don't need dis champagne stuff to 
feel all funny inside, you just need love. You need 
love girl," he said, his eyes moving from the horizon 
and looking at her face. His smile mellowed him and she 
felt genuine affection for the old man. 

"I agree," she nodded. A gentle breeze caused the boat 
to rock gently and Harry caught Beth before she fell, 
her warm gentle skin and feminine smell reminding Harry 
of Maria in her youth. Like Beth, she was slender and 
very beautiful, and angel without wings Harry had once 
labelled her. They were more than just husband and 
wife, they were best buddies, the sort of people who 
were always on the same wavelength, their minds 
operating on the same level. Maria had suggested they 
were telepathic but Harry had joked saying maybe it 
should be psychopathic! 

Sure, they'd had bad times, too, but plenty of good 
times. Mostly good times in fact. They'd been all 
they'd ever needed in life, and their love lives had 
been most enjoyable. Neither had dabbled with other 
partners, both virgins when they'd met (although not 
virgins when they'd married – it was the swinging 
sixties at that point, after all).

Harry had never even contemplated even looking at 
another woman, let alone playing away from home. Yet 
the feel of Beth's soft supple young body against his 
old, weary frame had made him feel young again, full of 
zest. For the first time in two years he felt the 
stirrings in his groin and he became uncomfortable. 
This friend of his niece who was old enough to be his 
grand daughter was giving him his first erection for 
more than 2 years. 

"I don't tink we're gonna get a bite," he said, 
averting his embarrassed gaze and fiddling with his 
fishing gear, his rod as static as Allan who was still 
asleep in the roof of the cabin. Beth felt hurt. Had 
she said something to offend him, raked up old memories 
that Harry would rather have kept buried deep in his 
psyche.

"What's the matter?" Beth asked, worried she might have 
said or done something awful.

"Nuttin," Harry said, trying not to be phased by the 
affair, regaining his cool. "I tink we'd better move to 
a different spot. De fish are not biting that well 
around here," he said, making his way to the bridge.

The rest of the fishing trip remained friendly but 
strained. Allan slept through the day, the mid-day sun 
reaching unbearable temperatures. Beth had a bikini on 
beneath her shorts and T shirt and she jumped in for a 
swim periodically, enjoying the coolness of the water 
against her flesh. Harry tried to look away as Beth 
entered or exited the boat, her soaking wet body 
stirring feelings again that he imagined had long since 
departed along with his beloved Maria.

His change in attitude had not gone un-noticed with 
Beth either. She was still worried she'd said something 
out of turn. She wanted to apologise but at this moment 
in time, she had no idea what she was to apologise for. 
She didn't think she'd been that insensitive but she'd 
no idea how Harry had dealt with the loss of Maria. 
Each time she'd tried to enter into a conversation 
about anything other than trivia and Harry had found an 
excuse to busy himself with something else.

Eventually, armed with a handful of fish, Harry headed 
the boat for home. Beth had joked about the catch to 
Allan who'd fallen asleep on the roof of the boat. He 
was red raw with sunburn from head to toe, with the 
exception of his shorts and Raybans. 

"Anyone for lobster?" Beth had teased. Allan was not 
amused. He was in agony with the burning sensation and 
was very dehydrated. He'd wolfed down some champagne 
but the alcohol had only succeeded in dehydrating 
himself more.

"It'll make a change from red-eye in the wedding 
photos, won't it?" Beth had joked. The wedding was in 2 
days time and Allan hadn't an icicle in hell's chance 
of looking remotely normal for then. 

Allan had the most uncomfortable night's rest, barely 
able to sleep. The sunburn had progressed into sun 
stroke, his pulse slow and full. Allan's head pounded 
like the mother of all hang-overs and he felt nauseous. 
Beth wanted to get some last minute shopping done for 
the wedding tomorrow but Allan was fit for nothing. 
He'd had a cold bath, covered himself in more after-sun 
that you could throw at him and he'd drunk nothing but 
pure mineral water. Still he felt like shit.

Beth had arranged for Harry to show her the island some 
more and to take in the shopping mall and local 
markets. Harry had been only too happy to oblige, after 
all it wasn't every day you got to parade around with a 
beautiful young lady like Beth. She was pretty, she had 
a lovely personality and a body to die for... Harry 
wished he hadn't had that thought.

Silly old fool, he cursed to himself. What would a 
pretty young thing like her see in an old wrinkly fart 
like him? He was old, he was grey, he was wrinkly, he 
was not her type. But he found her attractive. She 
aroused him, something no one else other than Maria had 
ever been able to do. And because of this, he was 
smitten with her.

"You still miss Maria" Beth said in the car on the way 
back from the excursion. Harry was a captive audience, 
he couldn't get away now. Beth could be cold and 
calculating when she needed to be. Harry nodded.

"We was married for nigh on forty years," he said, his 
eyes focused on the road but part of his mind wandered. 

"It must have been difficult?" Beth suggested. "You 
ever thought about finding someone else?" she asked. 
Harry smiled and laughed but his laugh held no humour.

"Never let it cross my mind sweetheart," he said.

"Why not?" Beth asked.

"'Cos no one else is Maria" he replied. Beth could 
understand. She'd been fucked by Kris and Juan yet 
despite their attributes, they weren't Allan. Sure 
Allan could be a goof at times like sunning himself and 
falling asleep!!! But he was Allan and she loved him, 
warts and all!! No one else was him. He loved her. She 
loved him. That's what counts.

Her thoughts revealed her pretty smile beneath and 
Harry noticed her grin.

"Who you tinking about, as if I didn't know?" he said, 
chuckling.

"Am I that obvious?" Beth asked, happy the mood was 
becoming lighter.

"You're as transparent as dem waters out dere" he said, 
pointing to the sea. Beth joined him in his chuckle. 
They drove in silence for a little while before Harry 
restarted the conversation.

"So are you two off somewhere tonight? Stag do or 
someting?" he asked politely. Beth nodded. 

"Yeah, some joint stag and hen party, same club by all 
accounts. I can't believe they'd do that."

"It's so dey can keep an eye on each other!" Harry 
beamed, enjoying the humour. They passed a large banana 
plantation, big tall trees with green growths that were 
beginning to look like the finished fruit.

"You don't get banana farms like dat at Fort Dunlop!" 
Harry jested. Beth had to agree, the scenery was breath 
taking.

"Do you miss England, Harry" Beth asked. Harry took his 
eyes off the road and stared at her incredulously.

"I wouldn't give this up for da world," he said, 
returning his gaze to the road. "Dere's only one ting 
dat I miss..." his voice trailed off. There was an 
uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"I know what I'm missing" Beth said, trying to lighten 
the mood again, "but he's still curled up in his bed I 
suppose!" 

"You need someting for tonight? Some Ganja or some 
ting?" Harry asked. Beth was a little surprised at his 
open approach. 

"We just use a bit of 'E' from time to time," Beth 
responded. Harry smiled.

"You sure I can't interest you in some ting else?" he 
smiled. Beth shook her head.

"Den we'll stop off at my store and I'll get you some, 
den," he replied, his eyes checking his mirrors before 
making a sharp right turn. They followed a dusty track 
for a couple of miles before coming to a general store 
on the outskirts of a small village. 

The locals nodded to Harry as he arrived and one old 
boy raised his hat to Beth. It may be the back end of 
the world in comparison to Europe or the Americas but 
they still held values and common decency. Manners were 
becoming extinct and Beth felt honoured that the locals 
should treat her, a mere tourist, with that level of 
respect. Beth waved and smiled gaily as they entered 
Harry's general store. The two ladies who ran the store 
for Harry greeted him with beaming smiles and big hugs. 
Harry introduced Beth to them and they extended their 
warm wishes in much the same way, hugs and smiles.

The store was full of everything British as though 
Harry had not been able to completely let go. Shelves 
were laden with various types of mustard and other 
condiments, ketchups and brown sauces, suet pudding and 
instant custard powder, Kendall mint cake and soda 
bread. Scottish shortbread and English Brown ale sat 
beside each other on the shelf in total contrast to 
each other.

A colour poster of the Wolverhampton Wanderers football 
team took pride of place behind the counter, the 
players sporting the dodgy hairstyles of the mid 
1970's. Another poster of Charles and Diana adorned 
another wall and above the window was a small array of 
union flags. Harry may have left the UK decades ago but 
his roots and his loyalty lived on.

Harry had disappeared into the back whilst Beth was 
taking in the sheer delight of the store. He opened his 
safe and took out a key which opened another cabinet 
towards the office window. He opened the top drawer and 
reached in. Amongst the boxes and packets were 
medication and drugs of all sorts. He had an array of 
prescription only medication which he would sell if 
requested. These drugs were openly available via the 
internet and had been acquired quite legally and 
provided he didn't recommend a particular drug, he was 
within the law. He was merely the middle man, supplying 
for a profit. 

There were antibiotics and alpha and beta blockers 
(olol's), GTN sprays and a selection of 'epams' 
(tranquillisers) littered the drawer as he rummaged 
around. He took out some of the boxes to allow him 
better access to the rear of the cabinet where the 
controlled substances were located. His desk looked 
like a pharmacy as he delved around until he found what 
he was looking for. He'd always kept a small selection 
of cannabis but also held some "E" for the tourists, 
just in case. He hated turning people away, not because 
he wanted to make large profits, but because he hated 
to be beaten. He loved to be the one who could provide 
for his guests whilst they were thousands of miles from 
home. Not only that, the villagers enjoyed his produce, 
too.

"Dere dey is," he said to himself, unaware of his poor 
English. He reached in and removed some of the "E" he'd 
promised Beth, placing the offending articles into his 
pocket. He started to repack the drawer when he 
stopped. He looked at the box in his hand and his heart 
skipped a beat. Viagra. God, the very thought of having 
an erection again made his heart rate thump in his 
chest. His mind wandered back to the day before when 
Beth had fallen against him on the boat, stirring 
feelings he'd thought he'd never ever experience again. 

Harry had enjoyed the feelings yesterday and he 
wondered if he could enjoy those feelings again. He 
rolled the box over in his hands as he thought. The 
sensation had been exhilarating. Yearnings for relief 
ran through his mind. He'd not made love to a woman 
since before his wife died 2 years earlier. He'd not 
even had an erection, let alone a wet dream or a wank. 
But being close to Beth, Harry had experienced 
something unique, inasmuch as feeling horny, which was 
something Harry had doubted he'd ever feel again. Sure, 
he missed his loving wife but he was still a red 
blooded male and not too old to feel horny, even if it 
was with a woman 3 times younger than him. 

He shook his head gently, trying to reject the thoughts 
as they travelled through his mind, infecting his 
entire attitude to Beth. She was lovely, a good friend 
and he'd known her since she was a grubby little school 
girl yet here she was, all grown up and married and, 
most importantly, deeply in love. But he, an old 
wrinkly grey haired old codger was having impure 
thoughts about her. Harry knew it was wrong but it was 
almost like an infatuation.

Maybe he'd try to masturbate later, that should get rid 
of the impulsive urges and relieve the obvious build up 
of 2 years worth of semen. He popped a strip of Viagra 
into his pocket and replaced the box in the drawer, 
locking it firmly. He turned to leave the room but his 
eyes fell upon the photo frame on his desk, the lovely 
smiling face of his late wife staring back at him. It 
was almost like she was willing him to get on with his 
life, to live his life now for him. She may not be 
around any more but it didn't mean he had to remain 
celibate. Anyway, he'd be imagining her as he pleasured 
himself he guessed.

Harry found Beth in the store in deep conversation with 
one of the staff, a big black woman with colourful 
clothing and a smile that would warm any heart. 

"Dis'll put hairs on your chest, woman!" she chuckled 
loudly as she passed Beth a bottle of pure Jamaican 
rum. Beth opened her purse to pay but Harry 
interjected.

"Put your money away, girl. You're my guest, remember?" 
he said, winking at his store assistant. "Now let's go 
and find my favourite fish restaurant for some lunch 
and it's my treat" he ordered, ushering Beth out of the 
store with the bottle in her arm.

Twenty minutes later, Beth was sat on a balcony of a 
plush restaurant overlooking the sea, Harry's white 
mansion just visible through the groves over in the 
distance. A young tall black guy served them a starter 
of fresh Melon and it had just come out of a 
refrigerator judging by its temperature. A bottle of 
ice cold mineral water was poured and they toasted each 
other with a nice cold drink.

They made small talk and Harry entertained Beth telling 
her stories about his early days in Barbados and, later 
on in Jamaica. He made Beth laugh with his fables about 
the tourists who believed the entire island was part of 
the Hedonism movement and how obese tourists would try 
wind surfing naked. Beth laughed hysterically as Harry 
told her about the time a naked wind surfer was stung 
by a jellyfish in his most private areas, and how the 
swelling had made him look almost aroused. His cries of 
pain, however, suggested otherwise and he was 
hospitalised for a few days and was advised to avoid 
looking at the page 3 calendar at work for a couple of 
weeks!

Beth felt totally relaxed in Harry's company, her mind 
flitting back to Allan momentarily but the rest of the 
time, she was totally consumed in Harry's conversation. 

They drove through the island back to Harry's mansion 
and they sat on the patio by the pool. Beth was 
insistent that they opened the bottle of rum she'd been 
given at the store and Harry felt compelled to oblige. 
He took the bottle to the bar area and made the drinks 
personally, mixing a Viagra into his drink. 

Beth was sat on a lounger by the pool, her shades 
covering her eyes so he was uncertain if she was 
watching him or not. She had discarded her light cotton 
dress, her skimpy bikini beneath displayed to the 
world. Her pearly white skin was moist with sweat from 
the Caribbean sunshine and her slender belly gently 
moved with her restful breathing. Harry felt the cold 
glass in his hand brought him back to his senses. He 
coughed subtly and her head moved towards him. He held 
out a glass to Beth and she took it, smiling, the 
coldness of the glass so pleasant against her warm 
skin. 

"Thank you" she muttered, tasting the drink through the 
straw. It was Beth's turn to cough, the strength of the 
rum just a little too strong for her. Harry chuckled to 
himself.

"What's da matter, girl?" he asked wryly. Beth 
continued to splutter.

"Jeez, what's in this? Jet fuel?" she coughed. Harry 
laughed even louder and anyone in the vicinity would 
have thought he was a local black guy, his guffawing 
mixed with his Caribbean accent made him sound so 
definitely black yet he was a white guy from the West 
Midlands.

"It'll chill you out girl. Don't you worry!" he 
smirked. Beth placed the glass down for a few moments 
on the table next to Harry's drink.

"The only thing that chills me out is 'E'," Beth said, 
regaining her composure. Harry put his hand in his 
pocket and showed her the contents. 

"Like these?" he asked, handing her the tablets. Beth 
smiled.

"Is there nothing you can't do?" she laughed and Harry 
joined in with her mirth.

Beth popped a pill and swallowed it with a sip of her 
drink, her sipping much more delicate, aware that the 
white rum was incredibly potent. Beth wasn't worried 
what Allan felt like, she was going to the party 
tonight and, boy was she going to party? The 'E' would 
set her up just right. She didn't travel thousands of 
miles to sit in a room nursing her husband, this was 
Jamaica for goodness sake! 

Harry was glugging at his drink, expecting the Viagra 
to have an effect. He'd read the blurb about it, it 
took about 14 minutes to kick in and he would excuse 
himself and retire to his room and enjoy an erection 
for the first time in more than two years. He looked at 
Beth and felt stirrings in his loins and he was 
uncertain if the drugs were having a premature effect 
or if it was merely her genuine beauty. She looked so 
horny and if only he were 40 years younger...

The thoughts trickled away as he felt uncomfortable, 
the growth in his pants becoming slightly embarrassing. 

"You relax and enjoy the pool" Harry said as he stood, 
facing away from her, trying to hide the obvious lump 
in his lap. He rushed off like someone with a dose of 
diarrhoea and Beth sat there wondering if she had, once 
again, said something to upset Harry. He was a lovely 
guy, kind and caring and he'd gone through an awful lot 
over the last couple of years. Beth felt a kind of 
daughterly love towards old Harry and she couldn't even 
begin to imagine the hurt he must have experienced when 
he lost his wife, Maria. It was evident he still loved 
her and he was uncomfortable in Beth's presence. 

Did she, in someway, remind Harry of his late wife? She 
had no idea. She had to go and talk to him, to help him 
in his hour of need. It was the least she could do. She 
downed the rest of the rum, her throat was now used to 
the burning sensation that it left on the back of her 
throat, unaware that the flavour masked the taste of 
the Viagra that had been mixed into the drink. She had 
inadvertently picked up the wrong glass and had drunk 
the rum Harry had intended for himself. 

Beth strolled through the mansion and mounted the 
stairs, her mood light and easy, the effects of alcohol 
and 'E' kicking in. And she was beginning to feel 
aroused. Middle of the afternoon and she was feeling as 
horny as hell. She wondered if Allan was awake yet and 
if he was up for a bit of rumpy pumpy. She licked her 
lips at the very thought. Yes, she could just handle a 
pussy full of his cock right now.

"Stop it!" she cursed to herself as she slowly climbed 
the stairs. She had to find Harry so she could talk to 
him. He'd put them up for free in his own mansion, the 
least she could do was offer him a shoulder to cry on.

She reached the landing and looked to the right. Their 
bedroom door was still closed tight and obviously Allan 
was still feeling sorry for himself. She smirked to 
herself as she wondered if Allan was feeling himself – 
the double entendre deliberate. As long as he wasn't 
feeling a little queer, she mused to herself.

She opened the door and peeked inside. Allan raised his 
head of the pillow.

"How ya doing, sweetheart?" he said, endeavouring to 
sit up and wishing he hadn't.

"Yeah, fine. You?"

"Yeah, great," Allan lied.

"Look, Harry's gone all moody and retired to his 
bedroom. I'm gonna go and cheer him up, OK?" Beth's 
question was more of a statement. Allan grinned.

"I know what'll cheer him up alrigh,t" he said, gazing 
at the cleavage from her bikini top.

"Stop it. He's old enough to be my grand dad you know?" 
Beth retorted. It had crossed her mind that the old boy 
had taken a shine to her but she'd guessed it was all 
innocent stuff.

"I reckon he'd love to see you topless. Go on, give him 
a bit of a show," Allan urged, his old self returning. 
Beth blushed and this was enhanced due to the Viagra.

"I'm just gonna go and chat with him," Beth replied, 
preparing to go.

"Text me with your progress," Allan said, curling back 
onto the bed and flipping his phone open. 

"We're not playing those games again, are we?" she 
said. Beth felt a shade disappointed that Allan wanted 
to continue with these mind games yet she also craved 
them secretly. They could be fun, she could be in 
control. Sure, she'd had some 'E' but she was in total 
control. Had she been aware she'd inadvertently 
consumed some Viagra, she may have had second thoughts. 

"Text me, OK?" Allan nodded to her. Beth sighed.

"OK, if it keeps you happy." She turned and walked out 
the door, her sexy arse wiggling in her revealing 
bikini bottoms.


Chapter 14
----------

Beth looked to the left and down the corridor she saw a 
small glimpse of sunlight from a door that was still 
slightly ajar. She quietly padded down the carpeted air 
conditioned corridor towards the shaft of light, 
stopping outside and listening. She heard some rustling 
and the unmistakable sound of someone lowering them 
selves onto a bed. A few seconds of silence ensued 
followed by some breathing which was becoming more 
rapid. Gently, Beth pushed the door open slightly, 
shielding her eyes from the sunlight that beamed 
through the windows. She crept in slowly, past the en-
suite bathroom area and poked her head around the 
corner. 

It was evidently Harry's bed room still kitted out the 
way his late wife had set it out, a vase which he 
refilled with fresh flowers every day sat on the 
dresser and photographs adorned the walls from each of 
the last five decades. Long floral curtains draped from 
brass rails across the patio windows and, out on the 
balcony, a table and 2 chairs was dressed with fresh 
flowers and a table cloth. A large wide screen plasma 
screen filled the gap between 2 patio windows and a 
large mirror was firmly adhered to the ceiling above 
the bed. White net mosquito curtains were tied to the 
bed posts and a small mini bar fridge with a glass door 
sat close to the bed, a wide selection of various soft 
and alcoholic drinks lined the metal shelves within.

Beth looked at the bed and was surprised to find Harry 
laying down naked on the bed, his eyes closed and his 
head rested in a semi recumbent position on the bed. 
His right hand was gripping his penis which was erect 
and stood a fairly good size, especially for an old 
man.

He muttered quietly and his words were inaudible. Beth 
stood there as he masturbated himself, his hands moving 
slowly up and down his shaft, tufts of grey pubic hair 
emanated from his groin. The leg nearest Beth was 
raised slightly obscuring his testicles but Beth could 
tell from the way he moved his hands that he was not 
small by any means of the imagination.

Beth felt her cell phone in her hand and she swiftly 
texted Allan.

"H wanking," she typed before hitting send. 

Beth's attention returned to the old man. Harry's state 
of arousal became more intense and his hand began to 
move faster, the tip of his penis head becoming moist 
with pre cum. Beth found the scene strangely 
fascinating, she'd never imagined how an old person 
would look having a wank and she stood, transfixed as 
he pulled his pudding. 

Beth felt her own state of arousal and her pussy was 
becoming wetter as she watched, the image in front of 
her perverse yet pleasing. She imagined herself 
masturbating Allan, her hand gliding along his ample 
sized prick, teasing him with her hand, slowly and 
seductively bringing him to arousal, simulating 
intercourse with her palm and fingers, her thumb 
pressing on the underside of the head and enjoying the 
feel of his pulse against the pads of her fingers.

Almost instinctively, Beth placed her hand on her 
bikini panties, enjoying the sensation of motion 
against her clitoris which felt strangely alive and 
electric. Her pussy was becoming more and more moist 
and she could feel her fluids soaking into the crotch 
of her panties. Her fingers lifted the material of her 
panties allowing her other fingers to slide inside the 
material and touch herself. 

Her finger movements become more rigorous but in a 
gentle way, her other hand raised and caressing her own 
breast through her bikini top. She could feel her 
nipples becoming firm and erect, her state of arousal 
heightened not just because of the 'E' although Beth 
was still unaware of any other substance within her 
body.

Harry's hand movements were now quite rapid and 
extended the full length of his cock whilst Beth's 
hands were busy stimulating herself. Had Harry opened 
his eyes, he would have seen her but he was still in a 
state of semi trance, lost within his own mind, 
recalling his dear late wife but visions of Beth in her 
sexy bikini over writing he visions of his own lady. 

Beth felt her phone vibrate and she checked the text 
message.

"UU" it said, their text code for flash some breast. 
Allan had suggested only moments earlier she should go 
topless but Beth had fears she'd give the old boy a 
coronary. But she had to admit, it might be fun to just 
flash them a little and, anyway the old man had his 
eyes closed.

Beth took the initiative and unclipped her bikini bra 
which was peach in colour and, from a distance, they 
looked skin coloured giving the impression she was 
naked even when she was covered. Beth's bikini top fell 
to the floor revealing her ample sized breasts to the 
air conditioned atmosphere within the room, the 
coolness on her warm flesh a welcome relief. The cooler 
air made her pert nipples firmer and she caressed 
herself more with her thumb and forefinger. 

Her other hand still frigged herself within her panties 
and she had now moved the material so her pussy was on 
full display. Her fingers continued to play with her 
most sensitive parts and, in doing so, becoming wetter 
and more aroused in the process. Accidentally, her 
finger nail caught her clitoris and the sensation was a 
mixture of pain and pleasure and she gasped in the 
process.

Harry's mumblings became more audible and Beth watched 
his lips as he spoke to himself. His lips met before 
his mouth opened, his tongue touching his front teeth, 
like he was whispering...

"Beth, oh Beth..."

Beth stood in shock. The old boy was wanking over her. 
Her mind bounced like her bust when she was jogging. 
The dirty old sod was masturbating over a lass old 
enough to be his grand daughter. Beth felt honoured, 
disgusted and degraded yet she also understood his 
situation, being without a partner, the partner he'd 
loved for more than 40 years.

She felt the Nokia in her hand and she texted to Allan.

"H wnkng. Sez my name," she typed. Moments later, the 
message was sent. 

Beth stood there topless in the bedroom of the old boy 
watching his masturbate. And in his mind's eye, his 
hand was really Beth's pussy. Repulsed as she may have 
felt, she was feeling horny and whether it was the rum 
or the "E", she had no idea but her pussy was well 
lubed up and ready for some attention. As a 
consequence, her own breathing rate had increased and 
she had not realised the fact, her breathing sounding 
fast and raspy.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled.

"Are you a dream or de real ting?" he asked. Beth stood 
stationary. She felt embarrassed like a child caught 
stealing from the biscuit tin but Harry just smiled.

"I can see you're enjoying the show," Harry said, his 
smile broadening. "Would you like a closer look?" he 
said, removing his hand from his erection. Beth gasped 
again. Harry was enormous. She'd seen some big cocks in 
her time, the last 6 months or so, she'd seen some 
monsters in Ibiza and now, here she was in Jamaica with 
on old man who was build like a boa constrictor! Or so 
it looked.

Harry patted the bed beside him. 

"Come and sit here, girl," Harry said, authoritively. 
Beth moved closer, her movements slow and cumbersome, 
her embarrassment of being half naked and aroused 
making her shy and reserved, unlike her usual confident 
manner. She'd forgotten she'd come to talk to the old 
man, fearing she'd hurt his feelings. She sat on the 
bed and couldn't help but stare at his erection, her 
eyes being drawn to it like a driver rubber-necking a 
road accident. Harry grinned.

"Go ahead. Touch it," he urged. Beth didn't know what 
to do, she felt strangely horny like she'd never felt 
before. Her skin felt dry and flushed and her eyes 
winced a little at the sunshine in the room. She was 
half naked with a fully naked old man on his bed in his 
own room and he was asking her to touch his knob. She 
was a married woman, a happily married woman to be 
precise with a loving, caring husband. Yet she felt 
strangely compelled to reach out and touch the old 
man's erection. It stood erect, pointing to the mirror 
on the ceiling like some living direction sign and it 
slowly moved with the force of the pulse within.

"You remind me so much of my dear Maria," Harry began 
by way of explanation. "She was da same build as you, 
same dreamy eyes and legs to die for..." he continued, 
his eyes taking in Beth's natural beauty yet seeing 
Maria. "She had longer hair dan you but she was every 
bit as beautiful as you."

Beth blushed a little. She didn't know what to think. 
Should she take it as a compliment or was this uncle 
just a dirty old man? Harry nodded for her to touch his 
raging hard on. Beth's hand reached out, a slight 
tremble as she did so, gradually closing the gap 
between her and it. Her open palm touched Harry's penis 
and her fingers curled almost instinctively around it, 
her fingers unable to fully encapsulate his cock. She 
could feel the pulse within his penis against her own 
hand and images of Allan raced into her mind. Was she, 
once again in a role play situation? Was Harry also in 
a role play situation?

Beth closed her eyes, her imagination taking her into a 
world of fantasy again. She heard Harry's breathing 
become shallower and more rapid, warm soft flesh 
against hers, sensations of fingers against her 
breasts, tweaking her nipples. Beth breathed in sharply 
as her breasts became encased in Harry's large tanned 
hands but in Beth's mind, it wasn't Harry, it was 
Allan. It was Allan pretending to be Harry.

"You feel delightful, my dear" the voice said and Beth 
imagined it was Allan doing one of his fake accents 
only this time, the accent was almost realistic. The 
slight West Midlands accent within Harry's Caribbean 
accent made it seem ever so just feasible that it was 
Allan. Beth breathed confidently, her mind telling her 
it was OK, it was just Allan role playing, that this 
was fantasy. 

Beth's hands started to move up and down on Harry's 
enlarged organ, Harry also unaware that his erection 
was natural and that no Viagra was to blame, that the 
drug had inadvertently been taken by Beth. It felt so 
good to Harry to have an erection and, more 
importantly, a beautiful woman playing with it. He 
closed his eyes briefly but preferred the view the 
reality, taking in the scene before him. Beth kept her 
eyes closed, the photophobia making it more comfortable 
to remain with her eyes shut. It also afforded her the 
opportunity to remain in her fantasy world.

Harry moved his other hand to her thigh and gently 
caressed her leg, reaching her pubic area and stroking 
her hand gently before replacing her hand with his own. 
He felt her moistness against his hands, her skimpy 
bikini bottoms wet but not because of the swimming 
pool. He teased her slowly, his fingers caressing the 
length of her pussy lips through the silky smooth 
material, his actions unhurried and laid back. 

He moved her panties to one side and slid his hand 
inside her bikini bottoms, his fingers easily entering 
her pussy lips with her own juices acting as lubricant. 
Beth gasped again, the sensation not unpleasant and she 
imagined it was Allan probing at her. She opened her 
legs to allow easier access and Harry did not waste the 
opportunity, his expert fingers entering her and 
instantly curling, looking for the G spot. Whether he 
found it or not, he didn't know but Beth responded, her 
hand on his cock now vice like and masturbating him 
like her life depended on it.

Her cell phone vibrated again but Beth had dropped the 
phone on the bed somewhere and had no idea where it had 
gone. At this moment in time, she had no inclination to 
find it.

His face was next to hers, his eyes open but Beth's 
eyes were closed, the light from the window making her 
feel pain behind the eyelids. She could feel Harry's 
warm breath on her cheek as he exhaled. He gave her a 
tentative peck on the cheek, her soft young skin 
feeling delightful against his mature lips.

She turned her head towards him to speak but her words 
were cut short, Harry's seizing the opportunity to 
plant a kiss in Beth's lovely lips. She felt just like 
Maria and Harry was transported back to happier days, 
days when Maria was not just alive, but full of vigour 
and passion and love. Memories of how good she tasted 
flooded back into his mind and Harry just had to find 
out if Beth tasted the same. 

Without warning, he plunged his tongue deep into Beth's 
mouth, his tongue encircling hers like a serpent, his 
saliva mixing with hers. Yes, she tasted every bit as 
good as Maria, the slight taste of Jamaican Run adding 
to her sexiness. His own cock became harder as his 
tongue tangoed with hers. Beth responded, the Viagra 
raising her own level of arousal, Harry's expert 
kissing making her feel hornier than ever.

Beth began to moan as Harry's fingers found her 
pleasure zones and Beth writhed in delight. Harry sat 
up and helped Beth to lie back on the bed, her knees 
bent as he slowly and deliberately removed her briefs.

Beth murmured something along the lines of stop but it 
was too low for anyone to hear and, anyway, there was 
no conviction in her words. Harry laid down next to 
her, his hands wandering over her bosoms, his warm 
breath against her soft velvety cheek. He looked at her 
with longing in his eyes as she squirmed gently on the 
bed, his large but delicate hands covering her breasts, 
his fingers extended so the nipples fell beneath his 
knuckles so as he moved his hands, his fingers rang 
along her nipples like running a stick along fence 
posts. 

Beth wriggled a little and Harry moved his face from 
Beth's hungry mouth and closer to her chest, her rapid 
breathing movements making her tits bounce and Harry 
had to sway a little before he caught one with his 
lips, like he was back on his boat. He sucked on her 
nipple greedily, his tongue writing circles of saliva 
across her areola. Beth murmured again, her murmurs 
drowning out the sound of Beth's phone vibrating again 
as another text message from Allan arrived. 

Harry let a hand wander across her flat tummy en route 
to her pubic region, gently stroking the pussy hair as 
he fingers slid across her pelvic region in search of 
the opening between her legs, a sensation Harry had not 
enjoyed for several years. His fingers reached her 
labia which were well lubricated, the Viagra cheating 
her body, making her aroused. She kept her eyes shut 
lightly, muttering incoherently to herself as Harry 
probed at her, his fingers spreading her lips open 
before he slid a finger inside her. Beth drew in breath 
sharply, the sensation causing her to shudder in 
ecstasy. 

Slowly, Beth's pussy had two and then three fingers 
inside her as Harry stimulated her vagina, his tongue 
still encircling her nipple. 

"Is that you, Allan?" Beth murmured. Harry could hardly 
believe his ears. She thought that her own husband was 
being intimate with her, not him, the old wrinkly bloke 
from Wolverhampton with a Jamaican accent. Afraid his 
accent would give the game away, he just muttered back.

"Mmm hmm," he replied.

"I need fucking. Fuck me. Please fuck me!" she 
implored. Harry removed his face from her chest and 
reached for a pillow.

"Lift your hips, girl," he ordered and Beth dutifully 
obeyed. Harry slid the pillow beneath her buttocks, her 
hips higher than her head and her body looked bowed in 
the middle.

"Tell me again, what is it you want?" he asked, hoping 
she was still up for it.

"Fuck me, for Christ's sake!" Beth yelled. Harry needed 
no further persuasion, he spread her legs and 
manoeuvred himself between her, the sunlight glistening 
on her sweet moistness. The Viagra was in full swing, 
no GTN's or alpha blockers to dull the effect.

Harry was on his knees between her legs, his firm 
erection stood proud unlike it had done over recent 
years. He leaned forward, this short silver hair 
brushing against her thigh as his head approached her 
moist warm pussy. He breathed in through his nose and 
took in the aroma of her moistness and his mouth began 
to salivate. His tongue protruded though his lips and 
he lapped at her labia like some demented cat. The 
thought struck him of a pussy licking a pussy and he 
smiled wryly to himself, his licking actions causing 
Beth to squirm uncontrollably, her hands reaching down 
and pulling the white haired man's face closer to her 
vagina. 

Harry hadn't enjoyed the taste of a woman for so long 
and he was enjoying every single moment of it. He'd 
almost forgotten how good a woman could taste, it had 
been so long. His tongue movements were slow and 
gentle, long slow licking movements teased Beth and she 
responded, pulling Harry by his ears closer into her as 
his tongue aroused her inner sex.

Harry's own monster of a cock was at full length and 
pulsated of its own accord as he unhurriedly gave Beth 
oral. 

Beth was lost again, being fooled into her world of 
fantasy, this time the effect of 'E' and Viagra making 
her hot and horny. She'd seen Harry masturbating and it 
had turned her on and when he'd invited her to join in, 
she'd tripped over into fantasy mode and was stuck 
there. Harry knew her mind was playing tricks on her 
and he guessed maybe the 'E' was to blame. He'd never 
used the stuff so he had no idea of how people reacted 
to it. 

What he did know was that it was wrong to take 
advantage of someone under the influence of drugs. It 
was even more wrong the fact that she was a family 
friend he'd known for years. Yet his animal instincts 
had kicked in and he was running on auto pilot. He 
challenged the fact that he was the same as Beth, 
avoiding reality and living in fantasy. She had begged 
to be fucked and Harry was desperate, he'd enjoyed his 
first erection in years and it ached so much. He was 
happy to tug himself to relief but when Beth saw him, 
he changed direction, wanting more than just sexual 
relief. He wanted sex, full sex with an attractive 
woman. Beth had been in the wrong place at the wrong 
time. Or maybe the right time...

"Oooooooh, Yeeeeeeees..." Beth had murmured as Harry's 
tongue continued its travels around her pussy. Beth was 
enjoying the sensation, her body in desperate need of 
sexual fulfilment. God, that 'E' must have been either 
impure or exceedingly potent, she thought to herself. 
Maybe the white rum was to blame. 

Either way, Beth was in seventh heaven as her labia 
were toyed with, playful licks and sucks combined with 
periodic probing of the pussy with the tongue had 
resulted in Beth reaching a crescendo. She felt her 
back arching and pushing her hips further into Harry's 
face, his breathing laboured even more as he fought to 
draw oxygen into his body. The first of her climaxes 
hit her like a Tsunami as she rolled and writhed on the 
bed, Harry's body rocking with her motions, his tongue 
continuing its activity, causing Beth to reach a second 
climax almost immediately.

"Why the fuck isn't she responding?" Allan muttered to 
himself. He got out of bed, his head still aching with 
the dehydration. He opened the mini bar fridge and 
pulled out a bottle of mineral water, downing the 500ml 
bottle in one go. He found a loose fitting vest top and 
some shorts and dressed in the light clothing which, he 
hoped would not press against his sunburnt front. He 
wandered out into the corridor and looked both ways. A 
sliver of light shone onto the floor from the other end 
of the building. 

It was relatively peaceful except for some strange 
sounds coming from the room with the open door. Allan 
slowly padded along the carpet, his bare feet barely 
making a sound on the floor. He passed a marble 
statuette of a naked lady holding a dove and he 
wondered at the beauty of the place. Harry must be 
worth a ruddy fortune and Allan wondered exactly what 
level of wealth he was at. If he was back in the UK, 
he'd easily be a multi millionaire. He guessed the 
paintings were all originals, not prints, and the art 
collection alone must run into hundreds of thousands.

Allan reached the open door, the highly polished brass 
door handle reflecting his own image back at him. 
Noises akin to grunting emanated from the room and 
Allan crept into the room. The vision that hit him 
rocked him on his feet.

Not for the first time, Beth was totally naked with 
someone other than her husband. Allan's jaw dropped as 
she writhed in pleasure on the bed, her hips supported 
by the pillow that Harry had placed their earlier. 
Harry was lying on top of Beth with his bum in the air, 
guiding his monster sized erection towards Allan's 
bride. Allan went to move but he hesitated and in doing 
so, it was too late. Harry had plunged his enormous 
dick into Beth's waiting pussy, her warm and moist 
pussy offering no resistance to his cock. Allan 
watched, the image playing before his eyes almost like 
the world was in slow motion as Harry's penis 
penetrated Beth, the gliding action slow and unhurried. 

"Ooooh..." Beth murmured as the cock entered her 
deeper, inch by agonising inch it slid into her, 
filling her cunt with its enormity. Her raised hips 
enabled deeper penetration and Harry slid gracefully 
into Beth, his eyes wide like saucers and his breathing 
sharp and drawn. 

Beth felt the tip of Harry's cock reach deep within her 
until the point it touched her cervix. She flinched 
sharply, not with pain, but in pleasure as nerves that 
she never even knew existed were stimulated. Beth's 
breathing was becoming rapid and shallow, her body 
heaving with the exertion of all this stimulation. 
Harry seemed to have bottomed out at this point, the 
head of his penis slowly rubbing against her cervix, 
giving them both pleasure. Harry toyed with her, in as 
deep as he thought he could go, withdrawing slightly, 
then slowly re-entering her to the point of resistance.

Beth wriggled a little on the pillow and her movements 
were difficult given the weight on top of her. Then, 
without warning, Harry's penis found its way through 
her cervix and entered her womb.

"Oooh, God. You're so big!" she exclaimed, her eyes 
still shut but her head shook from side to side. 

"Never had a complaint yet!" Harry joked, his smile 
broad. He looked so relaxed, not in pain like so many 
of the porn actors do in the movies. His smile was 
genuine as was his pleasure. Damn, them Viagra must be 
good, he thought to himself, not realising the consumer 
of the Viagra was the horny bitch he had his cock 
inside of. 

Allan watched in awe as the old man withdrew his dick 
almost all the way before plunging back into his dear 
wife again. Allan was no expert but he gauged that 
Harry's dick must have been in excess of a foot long 
and of a sturdy build. And, what was more, Beth was 
comfortably accommodating him. Allan's mind wandered 
off at a tangent momentarily, Beth's words ricocheting 
around his skull, reverberating off the dura mater and 
resurfacing as an instant replay. 

"God. You're so big!" she had said, a painful reality 
that hurt Allan to the core. Until a few months ago, 
Beth had been totally content with Allan but she'd got 
the taste for big cock, thanks to Juan, Kris and now 
old Harry. Now it seemed that he was not enough. Yet it 
had been him who had actively (not passively) 
encouraged her. At first it had been a turn on for 
Allan to watch some one else bone Beth and it certainly 
had not affected their own relationship at all. But the 
fact she'd always been boned by someone better endowed 
than Allan was beginning to weigh on his nerves. Sure, 
she was deeply in love with him, else she wouldn't 
stand for all this nonsense, would she?

But it would be nice for once to think of Beth being 
fucked by someone...well, more average. Nothing wrong 
in that, is there? Why couldn't this old codger have a 
small dick, just for once? Allan's thoughts were 
interrupted.

"You know some ting? I haven't had a woman for more dan 
two years. I haven't had an erection for all dat time. 
And I've got two years of cum rolling around in my 
balls," Harry said as he fucked Beth.

"What a waste," Beth muttered beneath her breathing.

"I tell you what girl..." Harry added, "I'm gonna 
release my cum inside your sweet body girl. You alright 
with dat?" 

Beth continued to writhe under his body, her head still 
rolling from side to side and was almost like watching 
a Stevie Wonder video. 

"You OK if I fuck you, girl?" Harry confirmed. No 
comprehensible words left Beth's mouth but she made 
agreeable noises.

"Mmmmmm" she murmured. Allan hadn't had a chance to 
throw in his two pennies worth but it seemed neither 
Harry nor Beth were aware of Allan's presence. He stood 
motionless as he watched Beth's most private parts 
being plundered by someone other than him.

Allan smiled inwardly. They'd play acted this type of 
scene so many times and they'd both enjoyed the play 
acting. It had enhanced their sex lives no end. But 
fantasy was one thing, reality was different. In 
fantasy world, no one gets hurt and you can make up 
your own endings, fit the story to your own 
requirements. Yet reality was impossible to control. 
Sure, you can influence some parts of reality but much 
of the time, you are seldom fully in control. You can 
be the safest driver on the road but it only takes one 
idiot with a bellyful of beer and a bad attitude to 
write off your car and leave you maimed or dead. 

Allan so desperately wanted to walk over to Harry, lift 
him off and throw him through the patio doors and over 
the balcony. But Allan remained still, his focus on the 
vision in front of him, his own dear Beth being 
serviced not by some dodgy Spaniard or freakish 
Scandanavian, but by an old English bloke who was old 
enough to be her grand dad. 

Allan felt the revulsion of the sight before him, his 
stomach churned and he felt the first sensations of 
wanting to be sick. Yet his desire to kick forty shades 
of shit out of the old fart dissipated into thin air as 
Allan's own dick began to rise within his own 
underwear.

Allan felt pangs of guilt, not for the first time 
either. He'd previously let Beth down in Ibiza and 
Allan shut his eyes temporarily, hoping the memories 
would disappear along with his vision of Harry inside 
Beth. Allan felt his entire body weaken and it was all 
he could do to remain standing, motionless and lost in 
his own thoughts. He closed his eyes tighter but the 
vision before him replayed over and over again like the 
same action replay from earlier. 

Beth's unmistakable grunting noises as Harry plunged 
deeper into her reinforced the image in Allan's mind, 
confirming the fact that, in reality Beth was being 
fucked. Harry's laboured breathing began to mix in the 
air with Beth's moans of pleasure. Allan opened his 
eyes again to take in the image of the reality. Fantasy 
was not like this.

Allan's jaw dropped further when he heard Beth panting 
like he'd never heard her before, the size of the old 
man's cock like a pint of lager, reaching parts he'd 
never been able to reach. Allan couldn't even begin to 
comprehend the level of sensation and satisfaction Beth 
was experiencing and he swallowed hard, his throat as 
dry as a desert. 

It was, for Allan, about to get worse.

"My god, you're lovely my dear," Harry whispered to her 
as his hips thrust into to Beth, no finesse about his 
actions now, it was pure unadulterated lust. He'd 
teased her and gently found his way into her cunt but 
now he was in there, he was taking no prisoners. Two 
years of pent up frustration had built into a crescendo 
and he still honestly believed that the Viagra was the 
cause of his new found libido. 

Beth had been vaguely aware that fantasy was in fact, 
reality but her body was defying her again. Deep in the 
back of her own mind, she was desperately trying to 
fight back the feeling of arousal but the combination 
of the 'E' and the Viagra had resulted in her not just 
feeling incredibly horny, but desperate to be fucked. 
And fucked she most certainly was.

Beth gasped with untold delight with each inward thrust 
as Harry's cock rammed deep inside her, the very tip 
caressing her cervix, penetrating beyond into her womb. 
Harry's clean but grey pubic hairs ruffled against 
Beth's moist pert clitoris, stimulating her and 
arousing her even more.

"Don't stop!" she panted, hungrily drawing breath. 
Harry willingly obliged, his cock thrusting into her 
warm sweet body in a piston like manner. 

"Yes, that's it!" she panted, her encouraging talk 
making Allan feel even more aroused. God, her sexy talk 
was always a big turn on for Allan

Beth screamed making both Harry and Allan jump. She 
reached out for Harry's hips with both hands, helping 
him with the rhythm, thrusting her own hips upwards on 
his down strokes, gaining maximum penetration, the 
pillow beneath her hips adding to her thrusts. Beth 
held her breath as her body again became rigid before 
she exhaled, the effort causing another scream as she 
reached her second climax, her vaginal lips contracting 
on Harry's cock to such an extent, the circulation was 
temporarily cut off. Beth relaxed again and collapsed 
and Harry continued his pounding of her pussy with his 
manhood. 

God, she was hot. Harry had been pretty much a one 
woman man for so many years although he'd played the 
field in his youth, the soaring sixties and flower 
power and the age of free sex had been a most enjoyable 
era to have experienced, despite the hair styles. The 
introduction of the mini skirt had been his favourite 
element of the era and he'd had many enjoyable 
sessions. But once married, he'd been true and honest, 
keeping only unto Maria as long as they both shall 
live. Now, since he was widowed, he could legally date 
other women and he'd never thought he'd ever find 
another woman like his late wife. He never dreamed he'd 
even get an erection again let along get his dick wet. 

Yet here he was with a woman a third his age and he was 
fucking her for all he was worth and she was enjoying 
it, encouraging him. He smiled at the feeling of her 
palms on his hips as he continued to abuse her pussy, 
his throbbing monster cock probing at her cervix, 
continually bombarding it with pressure, breaking 
through the barriers into the wide blue yonder beyond. 

Beth was still trying to regain her breath but she 
could feel another climax building, her body weak but 
the mind was willing. She found the necessary inner 
strength to thrust herself back up into the hips of the 
cock that was fucking her.

Oh, yes, what a thought. The words kept going over and 
over in her mind.

"Fuck me deeper" she implored through laboured 
breathing. Allan had his hand in his pocket, feeling 
the lump of flesh and blood within his pants that was 
now rock hard and he longed for Beth to have his cock 
inside her, not Harry's. Yet by the same token, he 
wanted to see the end, he wanted to see Beth being 
fulfilled. If he, Allan, interjected right now and 
replaced the old man's cock with his own, would Beth 
really be able to feel satisfied? OK, so she'd already 
had two or three climaxes and, by rights, it should now 
be Allan's turn but all is fair in love and war. Why 
should he deprive her of the experience of having 
multiple orgasms from this old codger?

Harry continued to screw Beth with vigour and Beth 
continued to guide his hips deep into hers. Beth still 
had her eyes shut, the photophobia from the Viagra 
making it more comfortable for her like that. In 
addition, it shut out reality. Reality was horrid at 
times, fantasy was fantastic. False sense of security, 
maybe, but fantastic none the less.

"You like it like dis?" Harry asked, his breathing now 
very laboured and Allan could tell he was tiring. 

"Mmmm, fuck me some more" Beth insisted. "Deeper. 
Harder. Faster" she demanded and Allan remembered all 
the times Beth had demanded that of him. Harry 
continued, drawing big lung-fulls of air to assist him 
in his endeavours. 

"You like to fuck?" Harry muttered. Allan 
subconsciously nodded.

"I love to fuck," Beth replied. Allan continued to nod 
in agreement. Beth loved sex, it was most addictive.

"What do you like best, girl?" 

"I love fucking and being fucked," she replied with an 
evil smile in her eyes.

"I bet you say dat to all the boys..." Harry chuckled. 

"I prefer men!" she rapidly replied.

"I bet you say dat to all the men, then," Harry 
responded, not averse to a bit of humour himself.

With that, Beth surprised both Harry and Allan, 
wrapping her arms around the old boy and rolling him 
over onto his back so she was on top of him. Without 
breaking the rhythm, she rode on his erection, allowing 
him some respite and enable him to regain some of his 
strength. She felt his large hands reach up and cup her 
bare breasts which bounced hypnotically as she fucked 
Harry, his cock able to penetrate every bit as deep as 
before. Beth closed her eyes and threw her head back, 
lost in her own world of unbelievable sensation of 
sensuality and lust.

"I only say it to all the men with big cocks. Fuck me, 
you hear?" she said. Harry smiled outwardly as Beth 
chanted "Fuck me" with each upward thrust. Allan found 
his body thrusting with them as he stood a few feet 
away. 

Beth leaned forward and kissed Harry, lips against 
lips, tongue entwining with tongue, saliva mixing with 
saliva. 

"I'm gonna to come in a minute," Harry said, his 
breathing getting dangerously difficult and his face 
was paling. Allan considered calling an ambulance at 
this point but he remained glued to the spot. He 
casually looked down and saw the tenting in his shorts, 
his clothing endeavouring to conceal the erection 
within. A small wet patch was highly visible, his own 
pre-cum soaking through his underpants and the material 
of his khaki shorts. Crazy thoughts rattled around 
Allan's brain, the beige shorts and the one eyes snake 
within reminded him of an episode of crocodile hunter 
with Steve Irwin. Beth, on the other hand, was 
wrestling with her own one eyed snake courtesy of Harry 
and this snake was about to spit its venom.

"Good! Fuck me, cum inside me. Make me cum. Fuck me," 
She chanted. She knew it was Harry fucking her and she 
knew it was wrong. It should be Allan fucking her, that 
was the agreement they'd made when they married and, in 
fairness, Allan had always been excellent between the 
sheets. Yet right now, her body was over ruling her 
common sense, she needed Harry's cock inside her, she 
needed to climax on his enormous tool and if it meant 
old Harry spilling his seed inside her pretty cunt, 
then so be it.

"I is fucking you good, girl," Harry replied, his 
Jamaican English no longer the Queens English he once 
spoke so well.

"Shiiiiiiit!!" Beth squealed, bringing Allan back to 
the minute. Her body writhed and she looked like she 
was having a seizure, her climax so powerful it made 
her entire body shake and shudder. Beth had laid her 
hands on Harry's chest, her clenched fists began to 
pull Harry deeper into her, her fingernails digging 
deep into Harry's old skin. He screeched at the 
sensation, then all of a sudden, he too went rigid.

"I'm coming inside you, girl," he uttered.

"Fuck me and cum" Beth responded at the tip of her 
climax. Her body began to relax as Harry's cock began 
to pump, the muscular contractions releasing the 
contents of his scrotum deep into Beth's pussy, past 
her cervix deep into her womb, bathing her insides in 
his warm sticky sperm. Pump after pump of semen spewed 
into her, each pump consisting of a similar volume to 
an entire climax. Allan stood, mesmerised as Harry 
exploded inside his betrothed, emptying more than two 
years worth of spunk into Beth's pussy which, until a 
few months ago, only Allan had ever experienced. 

Harry's climax seemed to go on for ages but was 
probably only about 30 seconds and eventually, Harry's 
climax began to subside. Harry's cock was still buried 
deep inside Beth, the tip still beyond her cervix but 
Allan could see the spunk oozing out from Beth's pussy 
and beyond Harry's legs onto the bed, trickling down 
her thighs onto the duvet. The atmosphere stank of sex 
and Harry's sperm looked like wallpaper paste, thick 
and creamy as it dripped onto the bed linen. 

"Did you enjoy dat?" Harry asked as his breath 
returned.

"Mmm," Beth responded, her eyes still shut, her level 
of consciousness beginning to wane.

"I was talking to him," Harry stated, looking over his 
shoulder. Allan looked at Harry, puzzlement in his 
eyes.

"You mean to say, you knew I was here?" Allan asked, 
incredulously, his eyes wide.

"Of course I did. I saw you in da ceiling mirror my 
boy," he chuckled. Harry withdrew from Beth, his 
erection beginning to subside but still bigger than 
Allan's at full stretch.

Beth collapsed on the bed, her body giving way to 
sleep, the exhaustion of the experience taking its 
toll. Mentally and physically, she was drained.

"Why didn't you stop then?" Allan asked.

"For da same reason you didn't stop me," came Harry's 
response.

Allan went to reply with some clever remark but his 
mind went blank. It was indeed a fair comment.

Harry padded past Allan and went to the bathroom 
leaving Allan alone in the room with Beth who remained 
on her back, hips still on top of the pillow that Harry 
had placed there. She looked so peaceful as she slept, 
only the constant drizzle of sperm trickling from her 
cunt giving away the fact that she'd been freshly 
fucked, the stream of spunk flowing like a lava flow 
from her hairy volcano.

Allan went through hundreds of emotions simultaneously. 
He felt anger again, angry at Harry for taking 
advantage of his wife, angry at Beth for permitting 
this to happen again. How could this happen for 
Christ's sake? It's not like it hadn't happened before, 
surely Beth knew what was happening and could have 
stopped it? Then he felt the anger rise against 
himself. It had been him, Allan, her husband of nearly 
3 years who had encouraged her, actively encouraged 
her, to go and give old Harry a show. He'd longed for 
her to tease the old boy, to make him aroused, to flash 
her tits at him, yet he'd now regretted the move. What 
had gone wrong, they'd texted each other but it had all 
gone horribly wrong. 

Had she had some 'E', was that the matter? It usually 
made Beth very horny but she'd always (well, nearly 
always) teased the guys but waited till she got home or 
somewhere secluded to relieve herself with Allan. Maybe 
she was pissed? Allan was sure he hadn't used GHB like 
Kris had. Allan had been vaguely aware that something 
beyond either of their control had happened in Ibiza 
and he guessed that maybe a substance like GHB was the 
culprit. But here in Jamaica, he thought it was mostly 
weed or stuff like that that the locals hot high on. 
Traditionally, they were a totally chilled out nation. 

But Harry wasn't a true local, he was a Brit, shy and 
reserved. Yet he'd lived in the Caribbean for donkeys 
years, he was probably more West Indian than many of 
the younger generation of West Indians. 

Allan felt the pains of guilt wrack through his body. 
He wanted to shout, to cry, to punch something or some 
one, to scoop up his lovely wife and whisk her away to 
the safety of ...where? He'd promised when they got 
married, in front of witnesses, to love and care for 
Beth as long as they both shall live. He loved her with 
all his heart, he couldn't imagine life without her. 
Yet he'd somehow let her down again, allowing Harry to 
have sex with Beth. Harry was right, why hadn't he 
stepped in and stopped the entire thing? 

Allan had found the entire thing erotic. He'd found it 
perversely entertaining and, in his defence, Beth had 
obviously enjoyed it, her vocal encouragement to Harry 
had been like a dagger in the heart to Allan yet he'd 
stood still and let it happen. It wasn't like neither 
of them weak willed or easily influenced, or gullible 
or under confident. So what was the reason?

Allan's thoughts were interrupted as Beth murmured and 
rolled over, curling up into the foetal position as she 
dozed. Allan joined her on the bed, cuddling up to her, 
an arm over her in a protective manner. He loved her so 
much. He wished he could guarantee it wouldn't happen 
again but he knew he couldn't do that, to Allan it was 
impossible. His own perversity of seeing Beth serviced 
by someone else was a fantasy that he would find 
difficult nee impossible to give up. So if he found it 
difficult to give up, how could he guarantee Beth's 
continued safety and honour would not again be 
compromised?

He felt Beth's warm body next to his and he felt his 
erection still strong. He cuddled closer to her but the 
sunburn made him wince as he pressed his body closer to 
her back. He wanted her so much, to prove to her the 
depth of his love. He didn't care if she'd been fucked 
by some stranger. It had been his fantasy for so long 
and she had complied with Allan's wishes against her 
better judgement. And what had it done to her? It had 
made her find it difficult to differentiate between 
reality and fantasy.

Allan's heart was breaking in two. It had been his own 
dumb desires that had created this situation and turned 
Beth, his caring loving wife into this gullible and 
easily influenced person. Yet despite this, her 
confidence she'd gained had turned her into a very 
focused and determined individual. In her work, she was 
streets ahead of her peers and was in line for 
promotion ahead of colleagues who'd been with the 
business longer. She'd earned some decent bonuses 
recently as well, another by product of this increased 
confidence. Yet she found the amount of fantasy role 
playing with Allan had turned her into... what? Unable 
to differentiate? A fantasy junkie?

Was it all his doing? Had Beth been part way 
responsible for this, having acceded to his requests in 
the first instance? She'd proved her unequivocal love 
for Allan by bending over backwards to accommodate his 
needs. She'd sacrificed so much for him and he'd failed 
to prevent further situations arising. In fact, he'd 
proactively encouraged further games and subsequent 
infidelities.

His hand stroked her thighs and he felt the moistness 
on her skin, a combination of her own sweet juices and 
the copious amount of Harry's accumulated spunk. Allan 
felt his own stiffness in his penis and he wondered how 
pleasant it would be to make love to Beth. She'd been 
fucked for the sake of being fucked, but he wanted to 
make love to her. It was more than just sex, it was 
passion and affection, he wanted to prove to Beth he 
loved her. 

His fingers probed at her pussy which was still leaking 
cum. How much had the old boy ejaculated into her for 
Christ's sake?

Beth quivered at Allan's delicate touch, her murmuring 
positive. Allan stoked the inside of her sweet thighs 
and Beth sub consciously moved her legs, allowing him 
access to her, the effects of the Viagra still in full 
swing. He kissed her back between the shoulder blades, 
his tongue licking her skin which was slightly salty 
from her perspiration. She kept her eyes tightly shut 
as it was more comfortable for her, the photophobia 
from the drug still having an effect. 

Allan ran his fingers slowly through her pubic hair, 
the sensation causing his own breathing to hasten and 
Beth' breathing increased in intensity. His fingers 
caressed her labia, his fingers sliding all over with 
the mixture of both hers and Harry's cum.

Beth moaned gently as he teased her pussy, her clitoris 
pert and sensitive. He gently circled her clitoris with 
his finger and Beth responded. She'd always enjoyed the 
sensation, especially when Allan changed direction and 
teased her.

Allan's motions became more intense as Beth squirmed 
and wriggled at his stimulation, her moans becoming 
louder and more passionate. He moved off the bed and 
positioned Beth so her legs hung over the edge, her 
bare feet touching the floor and he spread her legs 
gently. He dropped his own shorts revealing his own 
adequate (although not as substantial as Harry's) 
erection, the pre-cum over the head reflecting the 
sunlight like a mirror. A gentle breeze blew the floor 
length net curtains around and cooled their hot bodies 
as Allan presented his bell end to Beth's wet and 
waiting cunt.

Beth sensed the moistness of her husband's tool as it 
gently pressed against her pussy and she groaned gently 
as it penetrated her, smoothly gliding past her 
engorged love lips, the Viagra still in her system and 
working at optimum levels. Allan entered her deeper and 
Beth sighed in bliss, recognising every lump and bump 
in her husbands erection. It felt so good inasmuch as 
being something she was used to, something she could 
remember. It was like an old pair of slippers, 
comfortable and homely, comforting almost. 

Harry had stretched her pussy and probed beyond her 
cervix, causing her sensations she'd never experienced 
previously but there was something special about making 
love to Allan. Beth felt slight disappointment as the 
penetration fell short of her previous expectation but 
it was comfortable and, most importantly, loving. This 
was not just sex, this was love. True love, the type 
you find in Mills and Boon books or corny Sunday 
afternoon movies in black and white.

Allan felt Beth's pussy all creamy and moist, more 
slippery than usual and as Allan made love to his 
bride, he felt the sensation of Harry's sperm still 
dripping from beyond her cervix onto his erection. 
Allan had never really fancied the idea of sloppy 
seconds until Beth's altercation with Juan several 
months earlier. Now here he was experiencing the same 
thing again, this time with not some young Spaniard but 
some old bloke from the west Midlands. 

It revolted Allan whilst simultaneously arousing him. 
Allan had so enjoyed the play acting, Beth's teasing 
and sexy escapades yet he was irritated by other guys 
taking advantage of his woman. It was inevitable to 
some extent that the guys would not be happy just to be 
teased, that they'd want more. Maybe they expected her 
to honour her suggestive actions and give them what 
they wanted. 

Maybe Allan had got it all wrong, that he expected 
these guys to be accepting. Maybe he'd expected Beth to 
be able to handle herself, to get out of these 
situations before they arose. Allan knew Beth had only 
agreed because of his persuasive manner and because she 
loved him so much. Strangely enough, he loved her too, 
more than words could express. So why was he subjecting 
her to these sorts of situations? 

Beth's moaning took him by surprise. His entire front 
was still red raw from sunburn but he pressed himself 
as deep into her as he could, his entry doggy style to 
avoid excessive pressure on his body but still the 
actions caused him pain. But because he wanted to prove 
to Beth that he loved her, wanted to make love to her 
despite her having a cunt full of someone else's semen. 
He wanted to prove he didn't care that she'd been 
unfaithful because, after all, it had been his idea, 
not hers. He was still very much in love with Beth.

"Fuck me...fuck me..." Beth whispered, her breathing 
still raspy and laboured. Allan continued fucking his 
wife, his own arousal being kept in check by the pain 
of his burns. Beth's moaning continued as she lay 
sprawled on the bed on her tummy, her legs over the 
edge whilst Allan fucked her. Noises from the en suite 
bathroom were masked by Beth's murmurings and 
mutterings and Allan did not see in the ceiling mirror 
that they were being watched by Harry who was still 
naked and sporting a hard on. 

"Dem Viagra tablets are bloody great!" Harry said to 
himself, still unaware that his erection was not caused 
by pharmaceutical intervention but simply because Beth 
was so incredibly horny.

He padded over to the bed and Allan saw him at that 
point as he sat on the edge of his own bed, his eyes 
watching Beth as she lay sprawled over the duvet, her 
pussy being plundered by her own partner, tits bouncing 
in rhythm of Allan's penetration.

Harry settled himself on to the bed, laying down so his 
hips were next to Beth's face, before turning to face 
her. His erection stood proud like a flag pole and she 
smiled at the sight of it. Allan watched as Beth 
reached across to Harry and began to stroke the monster 
erection in front of her, making the cock even firmer 
and larger. 

Allan had one of those weird thoughts cross his mind 
that Harry's penis was gruesome, and that as Beth 
touched it, it 'grew-some' more. Black humour at this 
point may only have been Allan's own mid trying to 
preserve itself from emotional hurt as Beth not only 
stroked the darned thing, but took it into her mouth at 
the same time, her cheeks moving as her tongue engulfed 
the head and circumnavigated it and Allan could almost 
feel the sensation himself on his own cock which was 
buried deep in his own wife's pussy.

"Oh, yes honey. Dat's it" Harry muttered as she worked 
his cock. Allan wanted to say something, to push Harry 
away or tell him to "Piss off" or something. But the 
sight of Beth sucking off this old man whilst he, 
himself fucked her from behind, was most erotic. He 
could feel his own climax building and he knew he would 
not last much longer. He moved his hands from her hips 
to her pussy to her clitoris, stimulating her little 
bud with his finger tips. Beth squirmed even more, the 
sensation of Allan's cock sending him into blissful 
release.

"Shit, I'm coming" Allan wailed.
"Fuck me. Please don't stop. Fuck me" Beth implored but 
it was too late, Allan could contain himself no longer, 
emptying himself inside his wife, his love juices 
mixing with both Beth's and Harry's. Allan screwed his 
face with pain as he semi collapsed onto Beth, the 
sunburn making him wince. 

Beth was still hungry for cock, disappointed that Allan 
had not lasted longer. In fairness to Allan, he'd been 
ready to pop from the moment he walked in and saw Beth 
with Harry's cock in her hand. He'd done well to 
contain himself for as long as he did. But now, Beth 
was unsatisfied. The 'E' and the Viagra, combined with 
the alcohol had created a total change of personality, 
her animal instincts taking over, wanting love but, 
yes, also sex. She craved for an erect cock to fill the 
void between her legs that Allan had just vacated. She 
yearned for a throbbing pulsating penis to penetrate 
her pussy, to cum in her cunt, to fill her and thrill 
her.

"I need to be fucked," she whimpered, Harry's cock now 
free from her mouth. Allan had now collapsed on the 
bed, laying on his back and he turned his head to look 
at Beth. The sorrowful look in her eyes made her look 
all forlorn and vulnerable like some innocent virgin.

"I need to be fucked," Beth whispered, moving her groin 
against the duvet as she tried to get herself off on 
the linen. Allan tried to get his breath back. 

"Give me a few minutes, huh?" he replied, his breathing 
making his burnt belly sore. Beth looked at Allan 
longingly.

"Now. I need to be fucked now!!" she shouted, oblivious 
to the fact the patio doors to the balcony were wide 
open for the entire island to hear. Allan took several 
deep breaths, desperately trying to find the vitality 
or vigour or anything to get himself aroused again.

"Pleeeeeeeeease!" she begged. Allan closed his eyes, 
desperately trying to regain his composure. How could 
he decline, he loved her too much? But a reality check, 
it would take him a few minutes to get any form of 
erection back.

Movement around the room made Allan open his eyes. He 
looked up and saw Harry walking around at the foot of 
the bed and guessed as the show was over, he was going 
to get dressed or go downstairs. 

Yet again, Allan had misjudged and he saw Harry stand 
behind Beth's out facing arse, her cunt dripping with 
spunk.

"Maybe I can be of assistance?" Harry said, calmly and 
without waiting for a response, he guided his erection 
back into Beth. 

This wasn't quite what Beth had meant when she said she 
wanted to be fucked again but she had to admit, it 
caused her untold joy. She shrieked as Harry's tip 
stroked her cervix and she tumbled over into orgasm 
unexpectedly, her shuddering movements making the 
entire bed shake, Allan with it. She looked at Allan as 
he lay beside her, the old man fucking her with long 
deep strokes of his un-natural sized demon cock. He 
looked into her eyes and saw uncertainty, puzzlement 
and embarrassment. Allan looked deeper into her eyes 
and saw passion and lust intermingled with love and 
sincere affection. 

Allan did not speak, but his lips mouthed "I love you" 
to Beth, smiling as he did so. She smiled back, 
recognition that it was OK with Allan for Harry to 
continue, blowing him a kiss in the air. Her smile 
melded into satisfaction as Harry's humungous organ 
thrust itself deep into Beth time and time again, 
persistently thrusting up to his balls in her pussy. 

Beth closed her eyes, the light still causing her 
discomfort. Neither Allan, Beth or Harry were aware of 
the drugs mix up, Harry was positive his new increased 
libido was a result of Viagra and Beth thinking the 'E' 
must have been impure or maybe the alcohol had affected 
her, Allan just assuming Beth had got lost in fantasy 
mode without any pharmaceutical intervention.

Harry's erection was well beyond her cervix again and 
any climax would release the old man's sperm almost 
directly onto her womb where her eggs could be 
fertilised. Beth made a mental note just to remind 
herself to check that her contraceptive pills were all 
up to date. 

She'd not been on any antibiotics so she should be OK, 
but the thought of the old man impregnating her made 
her wary. Yet it also made her excited. She hadn't 
planned to start a family just yet, but just the 
thought of doing something dangerous was quite erotic. 
What would her family say? What would friends think? 
Who cares? They probably hadn't experienced this sized 
cock before. 

Beth heard a slapping noise and felt Harry's scrotum 
banging against her arse. The sound was almost like a 
palm being slapped against her buttocks. It dawned on 
her that whilst she had been sucking the old man off, 
she'd noticed his pubic area was heavily covered in 
grey hair and it had concealed the size of his balls. 
Like his cock, they were gigantic and they were 
slapping against her bum cheeks as Harry slid himself 
in and out of her with unbelievable ease. 

Harry moved his feet position and thrust in from a 
slightly different angle. Beth squealed, a mixture of 
pain and pleasure, followed by another unexpected 
orgasm. Harry may be old but he knew some moves and 
they'd taken Beth by surprise. Her eyes were closed and 
unable to see Allan's wry smile as she climaxed, her 
face contorting as she orgasmed. Nor did she see 
Allan's erection resurrecting itself. 

"Fuck me deeper" she whispered, her voice coarse and 
husky and made her sound really sexy. 

Harry continued with his movements but suddenly he 
stopped and removed himself. Allan watched as Harry 
laid next to Beth and casually but expertly manoeuvred 
her onto his erection. She instinctively placed her 
hand between them, taking Harry's enormous cock in her 
hand and placing it against her love lips.

Once again. Beth lowered herself onto his dick, every 
single millimetre entering her, his rough grey pubes 
against her clitoris once again. He leaned up and took 
one of Beth's tits in his hand, guiding it towards his 
open waiting mouth. Beth allowed her breast to enter 
Harry's open mouth, his lips instantly sucking greedily 
on the nipple.

Beth threw her head back, her dark hair falling over 
her face periodically as she rode this old man and his 
gigantic cock.

"You like big cock, don't ya girl?" Harry said as a 
form of encouragement.

Beth just moaned in delight. She'd never experienced 
mediocrity and over the last few months, she'd come to 
the realisation that, just like ladies boobs, men's 
dicks can also vary in size and that variance can be 
dramatic. Forget technique, at this moment in time, 
Beth was lost in lust, the sensations running through 
her body outweighed the guilt of infidelity. 

Allan might want a divorce after this and that would 
devastate her but if he was going to do that, he'd do 
it whether she finished this or not, so she may as well 
finish being fucked because it felt so divine. Her love 
organs felt so alive and electric, they tingled and 
seemed hyper sensitive. God, she was feeling so horny 
and she didn't know when she'd be totally satisfied. 
Heavens, she was due to go to a party tonight, the 
combined hen and stag do but at this rate, she'd dare 
not leave until she'd had her umpteenth climax. 

By coincidence, as Beth thought about her next climax, 
so Harry had lifted his knees and was bouncing her 
light frame up and down on the cock that impaled Beth 
and his strong muscular hands moved her hips so she 
glided across his pubic hair again, her clitoris could 
take no more stimulation and, once again, she reached 
climax on Harry's enlarged cock. 

"Fuck me, Harry, fuck me more," Beth yelled and, as her 
muscles tightened, she felt strange pulsations in the 
cock inside her and Harry unleashed another load of 
sperm into Beth's pussy, pulsating, thrusting, 
ejaculating, pumping deep inside her, simultaneously 
climaxing. 

Beth collapsed onto Harry's chest, his semi hairy chest 
of grey hair pressed against her soft velvety breast 
flesh, her pert nipples tickled by his chest hairs. 
Both struggled to get their breath back.

Allan had watched the entire thing and, once again, had 
not moved a muscle. His own cock was erect again but 
the soreness of his body suggested maybe he should give 
Beth a rain check for the time being.

Harry rolled Beth over onto her back so she was laid 
next to Allan. He dismounted her and globules of sperm 
dripped onto the floor beside Harry's bed, a pool of 
white sticky cum making the carpet matted and stained. 

He went to a cupboard and pulled out a plain white 
cotton sheet and laid it gently over the pair of them, 
taking care not to hurt Allan's sun burns.

"You get some rest, you two," he said, quietly. "I'll 
bring you some drinks in a while, then we can have some 
dinner before you go out."

Harry turned and left the room. Allan stole a quick 
glance at Beth but she was in the land of nod, total 
exhaustion taking over her body and she slept 
peacefully. Allan placed a protective arm around her 
and cuddled his delightful wife gently before he, too, 
fell asleep.


Chapter 15
----------

"Deeper!" Beth implored, her voice akin to begging, her 
third climax just a thrust or two away. Allan never 
disappointed her and he forced his solid 7 inch cock 
deep into his wife with desire and affection, his 
breathing steady as his hips met with hers, together in 
unison they made love. She pulled his face near to 
hers, her tongue seeking out his the way she had done 
so for the last 5 or 6 years. 

"Oh my god!" Beth squealed, oblivious to the fact 
anyone could hear as she climaxed again, sending Allan 
into his own intense orgasm, his own vocalisation as 
loud as Beth's. Their moans became muffled as Beth's 
lips met with Allan's, separated momentarily for her to 
regain her breath as she came. She felt the pumping 
sensation from Allan's erection within her as her 
cervix was once again, bathed in semen. Yet this was 
different, and the difference was not in the slightest 
bit subtle. 

She'd grown to recognise the difference between fucking 
and love making. Sex was fantastic but love was 
incredible, no other feeling in the world ever felt the 
same. The fact Allan was still besotted with her made 
her feel even more special and loved, making her feel 
all warm inside emotionally. Memories of happier times 
filled his thoughts when it was just the two of them, 
before Harry, before Kris, before Juan and before role 
playing. 

Their love making now was every bit as good as it ever 
had been, better maybe. They had not become any less 
close because of their recent experiences, their love 
had flourished. Yet despite this feeling of bliss, Beth 
still felt pangs of desire, for something a little more 
adventurous. She almost choked on her own thoughts! 
Christ, she'd been fucked in front of her husband, gang 
fucked, had her mouth, pussy and arse violated in all 
sorts of ways and here she was thinking she would like 
to try something more adventurous!

"Penny for your thoughts," a voice muttered. She looked 
down at Allan's sweat beaten brow, his redness less 
obvious and distinctly less painful for him. Yet he 
still wore the pain of something behind his eyes, 
nothing tangible but nevertheless, evident within his 
psyche.

"Oh, I don't know" Beth sighed.

"Do I get a refund of my penny, then?" Allan joked. 
Beth smiled a humourless smile as though the weight of 
the entire world fell on her shoulders. Visions of 
Harry pounding her pussy the previous evening, his cock 
reaching beyond limits she never knew existed raced 
through her mind, the unbelievable sensation of having 
the opening of her cervix stimulated with something 
other than a marital aid made her shudder 
involuntarily. 

Allan cuddled her close, knowing the shudder was 
nothing to do with the climate; Jamaica was basking in 
temperatures of 32 Celsius unlike the midlands of 
England which were more likely to be experiencing 
temperatures of 32 Fahrenheit! He was all too aware of 
the potential emotional inbalances. After all, he too 
was experiencing them.

A warm wet sensation trickled down Allan's gonads as 
Beth leaked his baby gravy onto his sweaty balls. It 
was the turn for Allan's mind to wander, following 
their discussions from earlier in the week. They had 
both agreed that they felt too young to start a family, 
yet they both had their careers and social lives and 
did not feel the need to be tied down. Not just yet, 
anyway. 

They were perfect together, they thought along the same 
lines, they enjoyed the same things, they were on the 
same wavelength. Everyone they knew and everyone they 
met commented on how in tune they were with each other 
and how perfect they were. There was that word again. 
Perfect. Allan allowed himself a smile of smug 
satisfaction as the word "perfect" echoed through his 
brain. Life could not be better, he decided to himself 
despite the fluid flooding his testicles.

Beth wondered why she was still feeling so horny. She 
knew she couldn't still be high on the "E" that old 
Harry had supplied her with and, consequently, pondered 
as to why her insatiable sex drive was in top gear as 
she kissed Allan again.

"You up for another go" she whispered in her most sexy 
voice, the one she kept for the bedroom. Allan smiled, 
enjoying the taste of her tongue on his and the feel of 
her warm luscious body against his tired muscular 
frame. He was still a little tender but his own sex 
drive over-rode any discomfort from his sun burn. 

"Are you still hungry for more?" he answered.

"Very hungry!" Beth responded, her tongue vacating 
Allan's mouth as she slid herself down the bed, her 
erect nipples slowly and sensually rubbing against 
Allan's bare torso, her sexy eyes never leaving his. 
She licked her lips seductively, as her warm breath 
reached Allan's semi erect penis. She smiled at Allan 
as she took hold of his manhood with her left hand, her 
wedding ring, the symbol of their commitment, glistened 
briefly as the light caught it. 

Slowly and purposely, she began to masturbate Allan's 
cock, her movements unhurried and relaxed. Allan wanted 
to lie back, close his eyes and enjoy the sensations 
but he knew by doing so, he'd miss the best bits. He 
watched her as her hand went the full length of his 
dick, from the pubic hair to the very tip and back 
again, the soft pads of her fingers gentle against the 
firm sponginess of his erection.

Beth moved her face closer to his erection, her hand 
continuing its travels along his love rod, her other 
hand gently and delicately massaged his testicles. Beth 
noticed the motion from his balls inside as they 
automatically gyrated within his scrotum, a thing she'd 
noticed previously after Allan had cum. She mused about 
how they were busy making more spunk to fill her with, 
to fill her cunt. Her mind wandered back to her lewd 
and extreme thoughts of Harry and how he'd fucked her, 
cum inside her, his spunk squirting directly into her 
area of new generation, how he'd almost bathed her 
ovaries with sperm (or that's how it had felt to her!)

Beth recalled how she'd tasted Harry's spunk as Allan 
had fucked her the day before, the taste of the 
remnants of his ejaculation exciting her taste buds. It 
had not lasted for long, as Harry had fucked her again 
when Allan had run out of steam. Beth recalled how 
she'd been disgusted and disappointed at seeing Harry 
wank himself as he whispered her name. She'd felt sorry 
for the old boy, knowing it must have been difficult 
for him what with loosing his wife to the big "C" a few 
years earlier and she'd been able to understand his 
physical and emotional needs still needed to be 
satisfied. 

She'd known that he'd not been near or by a woman since 
Maria lost her battle for life. Harry had even 
confessed that he'd not even had an erection since. Yet 
she knew that Harry had some under lying secret, 
something dark yet harmless hiding within his recent 
past that she could not quite put her finger on. He was 
a real character and a celebrity on the island but he 
also gave off some sort of invisible aura that he was 
not all he seemed to be. And it was the image of 
vulnerability that had made Beth feel moved by Harry, 
how he'd coped so admirably with the loss of Maria and 
how flattered she'd felt after she had caught him 
masturbating and whispering her name.

Beth moved her mouth over Allan's cock which was 
stiffening in eager anticipation. Beth drew her mouth 
millimetre by agonising millimetre closer to Allan's 
throbbing manhood. He could almost feel her warm moist 
tongue against his tool, the roughness of the tongue's 
surface stimulating every last nerve cell that made his 
entire body quiver. 

God, she was fucking horny. Her warm sweet breath 
against the tip of dick made him almost jump with 
excitement, her actions slow and subtle as she teased 
Allan a little before taking his entire penis in her 
mouth in one foul smooth movement. Allan groaned in 
pleasure, his eyes now closing as Beth fucked him with 
her mouth. Her tongue flicked at his more sensitive 
parts, the parts she knew aroused her husband beyond 
belief.

Beth could taste the remnants of Allan's last climax in 
much the same way she'd experienced Harry's yesterday. 
Yet there were subtle differences with Allan, not least 
in the taste. It crossed her mind that maybe with the 
volume of local rum Harry consumed, his spunk was 
probably 70% alcohol ABV! She wondered how much of it 
would put her over the legal drink-drive limit! 

But there were other differences. Allan's actions were 
laden not just with passion and desire, but also love. 
Over the last few months she'd experienced passion and 
desire from her other lovers but they all lacked one 
thing. Genuine love. Oh, sure they'd fancied her, loved 
the experience, maybe even loved her at the time. But 
Allan's love was special, it was like a puppy – not 
just for Christmas, it was for life. 

And how that made her feel was like no other sensation 
in the world. Beth had enjoyed pharmaceutical aid in 
lifting her spirit, a little "E" had often made her 
feel elated and jolly but the sensations always faded 
after a few hours. Allan's love, however, was ongoing, 
continuous and permanent. No quantity of drugs could 
ever make her feel like that and she doubted that no 
other person could, either. 

So why the hell did she feel so strange with Harry? He 
didn't love her in the same way as Allan and she 
doubted anyone ever could. Was it the fact he had by 
far the biggest cock she'd ever experienced? Was it the 
fact his cum could bathe her entire womb in his love 
juices? Was it because she felt so sorry for him after 
his sad loss? Was it because he'd been infatuated with 
her, masturbating over her and whispering her name, 
imagining what it would be like to screw her and then 
being able to achieve his objective with her help? 

Allan removed himself from her jaws, rolling Beth onto 
her back, his rigid prick entering her again for the 
umpteenth time that afternoon. It was delightful the 
way she gave head, he'd never experienced anyone give a 
blowjob like Beth but, right now, he needed to be 
inside her again. Beth moaned in pleasure, exhaling 
slowly as Allan penetrated her. 

"Talk to me," he whispered in her ear as he made love 
to his wife, "Tell me what it was like with Harry."

Beth sighed inwardly. How could she tell her betrothed 
all the things she'd thought about, how divine his cock 
had felt inside her, caressing her inners like no other 
erection had ever done before? It might make Allan feel 
inferior or insecure. On the other hand, they were 
married to each other and there should never be any 
secrets. 

She had told him about her previous boy friends, how 
they'd kissed her and fondled her, how she'd given them 
a blow job and how she'd permitted the guys to finger 
her and perform cunnilingus on her and how they'd come 
all over her tits. One guy had missed and cum on her 
bra, but she'd always draw the line on penetrative sex. 
Beth had wanted her virginity to be lost to someone 
special. Luckily for her, it had been and Allan had 
been special, taking things slowly and gently and she 
had willingly permitted him to pop her cherry.

Allan had told her about his previous girlfriends, how 
he'd had sex with one or two of them, how he'd 
plundered their pussy's, coming inside a ribbed condom 
whilst his cock was buried deep inside their cunts. 
Neither had felt jealous as their previous experiences 
were nothing more than an education, learning the 
skills that they would need to keep their long term 
partner satisfied till death do us part. They had a 
special relationship built around love. Beth sighed 
inwardly again.

"Are you sure you want to know?" she asked, 
tentatively. 

"Yes, I do," Allan replied, his hips slowly and 
purposely meeting Beth's hips as he made love to her. 
Beth's pulse raced with a combination of fear and 
excitement. She'd never talked to Allan about her 
experiences with other guys in great detail or, if she 
did, she kept it on a physical basis, not daring to 
discuss her emotions, scared of Allan's response. She 
loved him dearly, she did not wish to hurt his feelings 
or damage their relationship. She needed him. She loved 
him. Yet she knew she had to talk, to share her 
thoughts and feelings. Beth took a deep breath.

"Harry felt enormous inside me," she began, waiting for 
Allan's response. 

"In what way?" Allan replied.

"Oh, you know?" Beth answered, wondering if it would be 
enough to satisfy her husband.

"No, tell me," he implored, his slippery dick gliding 
in and out of her love hole.

"He was so big, his cock touched my cervix and, 
amazingly, went beyond it. I could feel the tip of his 
cock in my womb. When he ejaculated, I felt the power 
of his spurting against my womb. It felt strange, like 
a tickling sensation, yet it felt so sexy." She was 
blushing by now but Allan had buried his face in the 
pillow, his lips against her cheek and ear.

"What were you thinking?" he asked as his love making 
increased in pace. There was a few moments silence 
before Allan kissed her cheek.

"Please tell me," he gently encouraged.

"Well..." Beth began, "...I started to have strange 
thoughts yet it wasn't the "E" or the rum that was 
having an effect, I felt in total control of my 
thoughts."

"Go on," Allan urged.

"I had these strange thoughts just as he was about to 
cum inside me. Harry was so deep inside me that when he 
shot that much cum within my pussy, would I get 
pregnant from him? I fantasised about how naughty and 
taboo it would be. But I don't want a baby yet. And 
when I do, I want it to be yours."

Allan had found her dirty talk most erotic, he had 
hardly noticed he was fucking Beth for all he was 
worth. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked at 
her face, but her eyes were closed and she still wore 
the rosy red cheeks of someone who was embarrassed. It 
was almost like she was sometimes when they role 
played, like she was in some far away place living the 
fantasy in her mind. Yet she was in a far away place 
with him and her mind was not in fantasy land but 
recalling her memories, reliving those feelings and 
replaying her desires like some corrupt VCR.

Allan kissed her gently on the face and a tear trickled 
down the side of her soft velvety cheek.

"Are you angry with me?" she said, barely able to open 
her eyes. Even if she had, her vision would have been 
blurred.

Allan smiled warmly at her. 

"No way!" he said. "I find that really hot and sexy," 
he said. "Did you want him to cum inside you? You know, 
within your womb?"

"Yes I did," she confessed. Allan thrust himself deep 
into Beth's waiting and willing vagina.

"Tell me again," he asked, his rhythm at full pelt.

"I wanted Harry to cum inside me. I wanted Harry to 
fill me full of his sperm, to make me cum, to fuck me 
and make me cum. I wanted Harry to bathe my eggs with 
his spunk," she said, hugging Allan tight as he fucked 
her.

Allan was nearing another climax and Beth dug her nails 
deep into Allan's fleshy buttocks, pulling him as deep 
as he could go. 

She reached down between their bodies and allowed one 
hand to stimulate his balls. Allan's murmurings of 
pleasure confirmed he was in ecstasy. He was now 
thrusting into her like a man possessed. Beth removed 
herself from his clutches and rolled him onto his back. 
Her expert hands worked his erection before taking him 
in her mouth again. 

Allan was patently aware he couldn't thrust too hard in 
her lovely mouth but also that his desires needed to be 
satisfied. Allan had experienced a few blow jobs in the 
past but no one he could recall have head like Beth. 
She was a natural, every suck and every lick filled 
with love, a fact that Allan shared with Beth 
regularly. She was good! And what's more, she knew she 
was good!

Allan's movements become more intense as his pleasure 
levels rose, his breathing increased and his moans, 
louder.

"Oh shit, I'm coming" he gasped and Beth sucked harder, 
her left hand still wanking him whilst her right hand 
tickled his balls. Within moments, he was filling her 
mouth with his seed, his tadpoles tickling her tonsils 
as she gulped and swallowed, running her tongue around 
her mouth to enjoy the taste, stimulating his throbbing 
member in the process. 

She removed him from her mouth and smiled at him.

"I love you," Allan said, returning her smile.

"I bet you say that to all your wives!" Beth said, 
mischief in her eyes.

"Every last one of them" Allan responded, an air of 
satisfaction on his face. 

"I love you too," Beth replied, moving back up the bed 
and cuddling up to him. They laid together, naked on 
the bed for some time, enjoying the closeness of being 
with each other. It was early afternoon and the wedding 
they'd flow several thousand miles to attend was at 4 
o'clock.

"Better get up in a minute" Beth said, not really 
wanting to move.

"What? You want to be fucked again?" he replied, 
jovially. Beth looked at her husband and smiled. His 
humour was so predictable yet, somehow comforting. It 
proved it was her husband and the fact she was so in 
tune with him confirmed how much she loved him.

"Later," she said, slipping off the bed. Allan reached 
to grab her to pull her back onto the bed but Beth was 
a little too swift for him.

"Killjoy," he muttered as he saw her cavort around the 
room. Beth stood in front of the full length mirror, 
examining her body. She stood face on then looked at 
her profile from the side, running the palm of her hand 
over her flat stomach. She breathed in, lifting her 
ribcage for a few moments before relaxing, trying to 
bloat out her tummy. Again, her hand rubbed across her 
stomach, her gold wedding band reflecting back at her 
in the mirror.

Her mind was in wonderland again, trying to ascertain 
if she was getting fat, looking at her belly and 
buttocks in intimate detail. Her hand wandered back to 
her tummy as she imagined her tummy expanding with a 
foetus inside her, growing into a baby. Would she still 
look beautiful if she was pregnant? Would she "glow" 
like expectant mums do or would she just look plump and 
frumpy?

She imagined how her bust would look as they became 
engorged with breast milk. God, she already felt a 
little top heavy and her tits attracted enough 
attention without them becoming even more enlarged. 
What would she look like? 

She'd cross that bridge when she got there. Now wasn't 
the right time to think about babies, they still had so 
much life lo live before they settled down into family 
life. She smiled inwardly at the thought of having 
Allan's baby. It would be the perfect end to their 
perfect lives and she pondered over the fact Allan 
would probably want to dress it in an infant sized 
Aston Villa kit! The vision made her smile outwardly 
and she noticed herself in the mirror, her beaming grin 
making her entire face light up like bonfire night.

Her smile faded and her face paled as she thought what 
if the baby wasn't Allan's, what if it was Harry's? Or 
what if it were some one else's? Could she handle it? 
Could Allan handle it? Could she handle pregnancy? 
She'd had unprotected sex with various strangers over 
the last few months and whilst her oral contraceptives 
were fine, what if they suddenly weren't? What if some 
of the "E" or other substances interacted with her 
contraceptives? Was it just the thought of becoming 
pregnant, the danger of having unprotected sex without 
contraception that was exciting? Was it was the "X" 
factor, the thrill of not knowing? She looked back at 
her reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck was happening to her mind? Was it 
overdoing the drugs, was it lack of sleep, was her 
hormones? She had more questions than answers and the 
dozy cow in the mirror was of no help, staring blankly 
back at her as she stared blankly in. Was she becoming 
senile? If so, did that mean she could become a cabinet 
minister soon?

Her dry humour merely added to her sense of 
uncertainty. Her entire mind was uncertain about what 
was real and what was fictional. 

Beth smiled at her reflection which mimicked her and at 
that moment in time, she could only identify three 
things of which she was certain. The first was that she 
loved Allan implicitly and unequivocally, second was 
she knew she had to have sex with Harry's enormous cock 
again. She shocked herself at the thoughts but 
discarded her shock with relative ease which, in itself 
shocked her. Her image in the mirror blushed in 
embarrassment. How the heck could she have such 
thoughts? 

Thirdly, if the didn't dress right now, they were going 
to be late for the wedding. She gave her reflection a 
pouting kiss, a sly wink and turned before walking her 
sexy wiggle type walk off to the bathroom to shower.

"Bagsy I get the dry towel," she said to Allan as she 
almost ran to the bathroom, Allan chasing after her in 
hot pursuit, enjoying the fun of being with his wife. 
They both disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of 
running water and Beth's giggles with the occasional 
scream filling the air, both unaware that there had 
been an audience for the last couple of hours, the 
large mirror merely a window from the room next door 
where someone had been observing. More than observing, 
recording onto mini DVD via a digital camcorder for 
what purpose? Blackmail? Personal gratification? 
Financial gain? It would not be long before they 
discovered the reason.


Chapter 16
----------

The hot sun floated in the cloudless sky, its rays 
scorching the silver sand which was occasionally cooled 
by a wave of sea water rushing to the shore. In the 
distance, European tourists played football on the 
beach, t shirts for goal posts and beer bellies 
bouncing around like demented space-hoppers. Scantily 
clad women in bikini's were scattered around the edges 
of the beach, laying on brightly coloured beach towels, 
several bikini tops lay lifeless on the sand, their 
owners having discarded them to avoid unsightly lines 
in their sun tans. 

Allan and Beth walked along the beach taking in the 
views, Beth wearing her peach bikini but with the 
string-bottoms instead of the high-leg briefs. It had 
been 24 hours since Beth had stood in front of the 
mirror, alone with her thoughts. They'd arrived at the 
wedding just in time and they'd partied the night away 
to a steel band, the passion fruit punch being consumed 
in copious quantities by most of the guests. Beth had 
enjoyed the function but her mind was still in topsy 
turvey land. 

She'd had evil thoughts about needing to be fucked by 
Harry again and how divine it felt to have something 
that big filling her up. She felt herself blushing as 
her thoughts travelled through her mind and she felt 
powerless to stop them. She thought hard about how much 
she loved Allan, how much she adored the very ground he 
walked on. And still the thoughts of Harry ploughed on, 
unstoppable. Yet she knew, deep down, she need Allan 
and if she were to get pregnant, it would be Allan who 
was responsible. She smiled again briefly 
at the thought of having Allan's baby.

A toddler wearing a swim nappy trotted by in his search 
for sea shells, a small plastic bucket in one hand half 
full of various trophy's he'd collected from the beach. 
Beth's smile broadened at the vision of this cute kid 
trotted by in front of her.

Big muscular Jamaican guys in swim shorts paraded the 
beach, enjoying the tourist season and how many ladies 
lost all their inhibitions whilst on holiday. Allan 
noticed how a group were subtly eyeing up a couple of 
young ladies who were bathing topless and couldn't help 
but notice they were sporting hard-on's through their 
shorts and how well endowed they looked. Allan's mind 
spun off on a tangent pondering over Harry's enormous 
size and if it were the Caribbean air that made them so 
large. What was it with him that made him want to see 
his lovely wife in the arms of another man? 

Allan and Beth had enjoyed the wedding yesterday and 
they'd danced together most of the evening, happy in 
each others arms. But Allan had seemed a little 
distant, not because he was in any way disappointed 
with Beth, but his mind was scheming again. They'd only 
a couple of days left on the island before they were 
due to fly home and their conversation the other day 
had driven Allan wild with excitement. 

Beth seemed agreeable to having sex with someone like 
Harry again when Allan had questioned her in bed. He 
had assumed she had been honest with him, not even 
daring to think it was fantasy, the same fantasy they'd 
enjoyed together over the last year or so. And whilst 
Allan knew deep down it was wrong to be thinking about 
getting his dear wife back into the arms of another, he 
felt no inclination to cease. Why should he?

They made their way to a beach side café bar, sitting 
on the veranda overlooking the sea, their table remote 
and away from other patrons. Allan returned from the 
bar, Pina Collada's in coconut shells with straws and 
paper umbrellas sticking out for each of them. There 
was only 2 more nights to go before they flew back to 
Britain and the relaxation they'd anticipated had not 
quite gone according to plan.

He sat opposite Beth at the wooden table, a white 
umbrella affording very little respite from the severe 
sun and Allan was aware that he may experience further 
sunburn like he had a few days earlier. His loose 
fitting T shirt had been discarded and sat over the 
back rest of his seat and he vaguely wondered if he 
should put it back on, despite the fact he felt cooler 
with it off. He wondered if his sweating was just from 
the sun or if his mood had anything to do with it. He 
gazed out across the beautiful clear waters of the 
Caribbean Sea as it lazily lapped against the sand. 

Beth reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. He 
turned to look at her, hopping to see some emotion 
within her eyes but seeing only his own reflection in 
her ray-bans. He tried to guess where her mind was, 
what she was feeling, what she was thinking so he could 
gauge how to approach the subject. He felt awkward 
wading in with ideas if she was not receptive to his 
ideas.

His thoughts were interrupted by Beth.

"Has it been a good holiday, love?" she asked. Allan 
smiled. 

"Yes. Yes it has," he smiled, nodding appreciatively. 
"Have you had a good time?" he asked, uncertain what 
response he might get. Beth's smile waned a little and 
her eyes were drawn towards the horizon, her reply slow 
and calculated.

"It wasn't quite what I expected," she replied. Allan's 
heart sank. He'd pissed her off so much he'd spoilt her 
holiday. Heavens knows if they'd ever come back to 
Jamaica and, even if they did, would it hold too many 
bad memories for Beth? He had to know what had been the 
disappointments for Beth, he didn't want to assume any 
more, he had to know her thought process.

"What haven't you liked?" he asked, bracing himself for 
the response. Beth's eyes remained fixed on the horizon 
as though searching for the answer somewhere in thin 
air. It was futile, all the answers were in her own 
head, she knew what she wanted, what she had to do and 
that if she didn't, she'd probably regret it for the 
rest of her life. But were these feelings her own or 
were they just to pacify her husband? 

"It's more what I need to finish," she said bravely. 
Like Allan, she was doubtful how he would take her 
comments, aware that their relationship, strong as it 
was, could become very brittle. Allan continued to gaze 
at Beth's profile, her skin now beautifully tanned and 
adding to her overall attractiveness. She oozed 
horniness through every single pore of her body. Allan 
placed his free hand on top of hers, sandwiching her 
hands in his. 

"We've not long before we have to go home," he said. 
"What do you need to finish?" he asked, his heart 
missing the occasional beat. Would she tell him what he 
wanted to hear or would she drop some sort of bombshell 
and wreck their lives? Allan braced himself for 
disappointment, anticipating the worst. Behind his own 
Raybans he closed his eyes tightly.

Beth turned her attention to her drink, taking a long 
sip of her cold drink, allowing the fluid to moisten 
her mouth which was becoming dry. She was nervous about 
telling Allan but it was something she had to do. 

Beth placed her drink on the table and looked at 
Allan's face, his redness from his sunburn fading as he 
paled, awaiting the news like someone pacing the 
waiting room at A&E. 

"I've got to speak to Harry again" she said bluntly, 
reaching for her drink and sucking on the straw, her 
eyes averting back to the horizon, not wanting to see 
Allan's face.

"OK" he said calmly, "Why?" 

Beth had been sort of prepared for the Spanish 
inquisition but the question, just one word, had thrown 
her completely. 

"I just have to," she replied. "I need to clear the air 
between him and me."

"Do you want me to come along too?"

"No," she said, a little bit too quickly. "It's OK, I 
need to do this myself," she added, more calmly. Allan 
decided not to push it at this stage. Beth sighed.

"It's just..." she began, her feelings of hopelessness 
evident in her voice, "...when I saw the old boy 
wanking and saying my name, I just felt so..." he voice 
trailed off. Allan sat patiently, not wanting to 
interrupt Beth's thought process.

"It just spooked me, that's all," she said eventually. 
Her face had paled as though she was mentally shaken. 

"How do you mean, spooked?" Allan asked with genuine 
concern. Beth smiled a humourless smile.

"It was almost as though he was doing what we've been 
doing over the last few months. Fantasising. He was 
fantasising about me but somehow, I'm not sure he 
really was. He whispered my name but he still has 
tremendous feelings for Maria. I just don't understand 
it."

There was a few moments pause before Allan spoke.

"Maybe you could take him out this evening, treat him 
to a meal and thank him for his hospitality," Allan 
suggested. "Maybe you could discuss the matter then?"

Beth nodded. 

"I'll ask him." With that, Beth stood and went to leave 
the bar, Allan in hot pursuit. He held her elbow as she 
tried to rush off and she turned to face him.

"Everything OK?" he asked, his voice full of genuine 
concern. Beth nodded, her eyes averting to the floor 
like a chastised school girl.

"Yeah, it's fine. I need to clear the air."

They walked back along the beach arm in arm, Beth 
receiving equally as much attention as she had earlier. 
She was in deep conversation with her husband.

"You know the old boy has a soft spot for you? You 
mustn't hurt his feelings," Allan suggested. Beth 
nodded yet her mind was churning its own views over in 
her mind.

"Allan?" she interrupted.

"Yes dear," he replied.

"Shut up, will you?" she demanded. Allan kept quiet as 
they made their way back to Harry's mansion.

***

The curtains were closed, as were the patio doors, the 
air conditioning system ventilating the room and 
keeping the environment comfortable. On the wall, a 
large 42 inch plasma screen played images of naked 
buttocks bouncing up and down, fingernails being dug 
into them, leaving marks on the skin. The old boy had 
been capturing Beth and Allan's love making through his 
one way glass, cunningly disguised as a mirror from 
their bedroom, the lamps next to the bed housing hidden 
microphones giving stereo sound. 

Harry had not only watched the escapades of his young 
guests, he'd heard every word they'd said. He smiled to 
himself, knowing he'd not just captured some excellent 
and graphic video footage, but he was privy to 
classified information. He'd used the kit before, when 
Maria was still alive. They'd been known to encourage 
swinging couples to use their facilities whilst other 
couples would enjoy the show from the room next door. 

Harry had built a reputation locally for these 
services, word of mouth being the method of 
communication. Several of his clients from the Southern 
USA (Texas and Georgia, mainly) were regulars, bringing 
unsuspecting couples over for a bit of fun whilst 
observers were charged for the privilege of a live 
show. 

Harry had subsidised his pension from these events, 
permitting him to retain the estate he and Maria had 
worked so hard for. He could easily make ten thousand 
dollars for such an event and, occasionally, a few 
extra thousand bucks for the video footage which 
usually ended up on some dodgy website based in Panama.

Knowledge was power and he'd built up his business 
empire by being ruthless. And now, even though he was 
retired, it was time for more ruthlessness only this 
time, it was not primarily for financial gain. Of 
course he could sell the footage he already held for 
twenty five thousand bucks, maybe thirty. 

But Beth was almost like family and he could not 
exploit her in that way for the entire world to gawp at 
and masturbate over. She was his find and he wanted to 
have her again. What was more, she wanted him, too. 
He'd heard her say so with his own ears and it seems 
that her husband, Allan, was in total agreement with 
the idea. Just to confirm the matter, he watched the 
playback of camcorder. The footage was mostly of 
Allan's arse which did nothing for Harry, but the 
soundtrack was what he sought. 

He found the part and marked it for repeated playback. 
He heard Beth's unmistakable voice saying..."I wanted 
Harry to cum inside me. I wanted Harry to fill me full 
of his sperm, to make me cum, to fuck me and make me 
cum. I wanted Harry to bathe my eggs with his spunk."

***

Harry grinned the sort of grin you might expect to see 
a gangster smile in a Hollywood movie. Why should he 
disappoint them? He'd brought back some "E" and Viagra 
from his store and he'd soon realised that her 
increased libido was more down to the combination 
effect. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find he 
hadn't needed the intervention of medication to give 
him the horn, the video footage had proved that as he 
sat in front of the plasma screen, erection in his 
hand.

Only this time, Harry wanted to spend all night 
screwing the arse off this horny English woman.. His 
blood pressure rose at the very thought of pounding 
Beth's tight pussy again.

Harry sat on a stool in his own bar, a cold can of red 
stripe freshly opened in his hand. His eyes raised to 
the ceiling and whispered the words "I'm sorry, I have 
to do this" so quietly, the barman would not have 
heard. His mind reflected on how he and Maria had 
frequently set up these swinging nights and how they'd 
both enjoyed the performances through the looking 
glass, as it were, but had always been true to each 
other, never straying. 

Oh, of course they flirted with others, egging them on 
so they would feel uninhibited and have sex with people 
other than their own partners. It was that type of 
freedom that encouraged them to come back and stay with 
them, spend more money and have more fun. Maria had 
joked that it was solely commercial and her flirting 
was nothing more than being an attentive hostess. Harry 
had joke back that being a hooker was a commercial 
venture, too! Harry had nursed his bruises for several 
days after that comment and wisely decided not to make 
similar comments again.

Happy memories of he and Maria shot before his eyes, 
the fact he had made love to her on the balcony of 
their bedroom on many occasions despite the fact it 
over looked the valley below and the bay in front of 
them. He recalled how she had sucked him off on a sun 
lounger by the pool despite a local black guy 
endeavouring to clean the pool at the time. Maria had 
few inhibitions, the relaxed attitude of the residents 
of the island had enable her to evolve into pseudo-
Jamaican. 

Harry smiled outwardly as he remembered how he would 
often wake up in the middle of the night to find Maria 
helping herself, liberating his cock from his briefs 
and massaging him rigid until she mounted him, forcing 
one of nipples into his mouth. Harry recalled vividly 
how Maria and he had enjoyed the closeness that sex and 
love combined can bring, with the added factor of 
arousal having spent the last few hours watching 
another couple (or group sometimes) enjoy sex. Live 
porn shows always got Maria in the mood and she was 
wild and sensual and loving and red hot 
and...everything Beth was.

He chuckled out loud as the visions flitted in front of 
him. He was sure Maria would understand and accept his 
apologies, given the similarities between her and Beth. 
Harry had not experienced any erections for a couple of 
years despite the swinging parties he'd continued to 
lay on to his paying guests. He'd witnessed all sorts 
of wild and raucous parties yet it wasn't until Beth 
had fallen into his arms accidentally on his boat that 
he'd had the first stirrings of eroticism since Maria 
died. Beth was one swell chick, he mused, his head 
nodding like Courtney Walsh would as he celebrated 
taking a wicket.

Footsteps in the hallway distracted him from his 
thoughts and he turned on his stool. Allan and Beth had 
returned from the expedition and approached. Allan had 
a face like the cat who'd got the cream. The walk back 
to Harry's mansion had been a long and pleasant one, 
Beth pledging her undying love to Allan and Allan 
reciprocating. Allan had wanted to be part of the 
conversation, to lend some moral support to Beth as she 
discussed the recent events with their host but Beth 
had been most insistent. Allan wanted to clear the air 
with Harry every bit as much as Beth did. Beth had all 
the best arguments, however, leaving Allan to concede 
defeat.

Allan had tried to argue that he should sort things 
out. After all, he was the man of the household and it 
was up to him to protect his nearest and dearest. Beth 
had counter argued that previously, all Allan had done 
was stood and watched helplessly from the wings. Beth 
figured she could do better herself. Allan had tried to 
suggest that Beth could have done that initially with 
Juan and Kris and... but Beth had cut him short. 

It was her reputation, her body, her life. Yes, they 
were an item, they were married to each other and Beth 
had subtly implied that she'd only gone down this 
avenue to please her husband and now she was drawing a 
line in the sand so, therefore, it was her 
responsibility. Anyway, Harry was a friend of her 
family, not Allan's.

Allan had wondered if she was going to make a comment 
along the lines of "My dad's bigger than your dad!" but 
he chose to bite his lip and agree.

His mind raced back to a newspaper article last year 
about a couple who'd been married for 80 years and were 
both still alive in an old peoples home. When asked 
what had been the secret of 80 years of happy marriage, 
the old boy had replied, "It can be summed up in just 
two words – 'Yes dear!'" Allan had laughed out loud 
when he'd read the article and had decided to heed the 
words of the happily married centurion.

"Just be easy with him, OK?" Allan had urged Beth as he 
stood at the bottom of the large staircase. They'd seen 
Harry sat at his own bar and Beth had suggested not to 
procrastinate. 

"I'll be fine," Beth confirmed, a confident smile on 
her face. "Go up and shower and I'll be up shortly to 
scrub your back!"

"What about my front?" Allan asked, mischievously, 
cautious about making scrubber jokes. Beth smiled.

"You'll have to wait and see. Now if you want me to get 
dirty, get yourself clean!" she replied, patting him on 
the bottom. Allan mounted the steps two at a time, his 
enthusiasm like a substitute football player running 
onto the pitch for the first time. Beth watched him 
disappear onto the landing. Who needs kids when you've 
got a husband, she smirked to herself!

"Every ting alright, dear?" Harry enquired, ushering 
her to a bar stool. Beth sat and without asking, the 
barman poured her a drink.

"What? Oh him," she replied, reaching for the glass and 
taking a tentative sip from the glass. It seemed to 
taste OK and she wondered if it was a 'watered' down 
rum or if she was just getting used to the taste and 
the effect. She'd take things easy tonight. She was 
there to tell Harry that what had happened was silly 
and she wanted to apologise and that he should not take 
things personally. Yes, that was what she would say. 
Yet as she sat there on the bar stool, she could feel 
the moistness between her legs. How could this old 
codger turn her on, he was grey, wrinkly and really not 
her type?

Beth's heart was telling her it was wrong yet her body 
continued to betray her, reminding her of the 
extraordinary sensations of having Harry's penis head 
embrace her insides like she'd never experienced 
before. The sensations of Harry's powerful climaxes 
exploding within her, triggering her own powerful 
climaxes ricocheted through her memories, her body 
feeling those sensations again as her mind played 
subtle tricks on her.

She noticed that Harry was still waiting for her to 
finish her sentence.

"Allan's gone for a shower," she declared. "I told him 
I'd be up in a few moments after we'd had a little 
chat." Harry nodded at her words. 

"Is everyting cool wit you two?" he asked.

"Sure!" Beth said but her voice lacked conviction. 
Yeah, they were cool but things were a little strained. 
One thing was for certain, they were still very much in 
love with each other but Beth felt as though things 
were getting out of hand. Being fucked by Juan was a 
silly mistake and should never have happened. The Kris 
thing followed on and after that, Beth had thought 
Allan had learned his lesson. But now with Harry, 
things were getting wierd. 

"I can understand his concern but look girl, don't be 
too hard on him," Harry replied, bringing Beth back to 
the present. Harry's voice portrayed genuine feeling 
and he smiled his broad grin. Beth found his entire 
mood very contagious. She smiled and as she did so, 
Harry's smile broadened further. 

"Dats my girl" he said, patting her knee nonchalantly. 

"Look..." Beth began, but then she halted. What was it 
she wanted to tell him? 

"Listen girl..." Harry interjected, "...why don't we 
have a meal together tonight and talk some more. And 
I'll go and speak with Allan, set his mind at rest. 
Would dat be OK?"

Beth nodded, her grin broadening further. Why was it 
that Harry always made her feel so chilled out and 
serene? 

"That'd be great," she heard herself respond. She was 
surprised to find herself getting excited at the 
prospect of spending the evening with the old fellow 
and, more surprisingly, finding herself getting turned 
on at the prospect. The sensation of Harry filling her 
with his enormous manhood had aroused her both 
consciously and sub-consciously. Harry stood to leave 
and Beth found herself holding her wine glass, her 
fingers absent mindedly slowly gliding up the stem of 
the glass as though she were already masturbating 
Harry's erect cock. 


Chapter 17
----------

Allan had returned to the room but had deferred the 
shower for a while. It would be so much more fun to 
shower whilst Beth was in the shower cubicle with him. 
The fact there was so little space and they'd be 
physically close was the main thing. 

Allan had wondered about his own motivation and 
attitude. Christ, he loved Beth so much and the 
conversation they'd had on the way back was nothing but 
total affirmation of the fact. So why did he feel so 
darned confused?

OK, so it had been his idea for her to flirt a bit with 
the old boy but, once again, he'd allowed her to have 
sex with someone other than him. And, once again, he'd 
enjoyed watching it. He'd even joined in this time, 
something he'd never done whilst Beth had been shafted 
by Juan or Kris or even Simon. Was it something wrong 
with Beth? Was it something wrong with him? 

What was it about seeing his dear beloved wife getting 
it on with some other bloke that he enjoyed so much? 
Was it his love of "E" that made him loose touch with 
reality, was it the fact he was unhappy with his wife, 
was it he wanted to allow his wife to experience other 
guys so she'd realise how marvellous he really was?

Allan neither knew the answers or, at that particular 
moment, cared. Not to say he didn't love his wife 
unconditionally. But he just wished he could fathom out 
the rationale behind him encouraging her to ... what? 
Cheat on him? She could hardly be cheating on him when 
he had been actively encouraging her to dress sexily, 
act seductively and screw around. If anything, she was 
the one who was being cheated.

Allan stood by the patio doors, his eyes watched the 
sky, distant white fluffy clouds drifted lazily across 
the crisp blue sky, shapes within the cloud emerging 
then dissolving leaving images in his mind. Was that 
cloud similar to Beth's lovely lips leaning forward to 
kiss him... or leaning forward to take Harry's cock in 
her mouth. A protrusion that initially looked like a 
nipple, round and pert, waiting to be tweaked... by 
Harry. The cloud separated to look like Beth's 
delightful legs, one leg straight, the other slightly 
bent as though eagerly awaiting penetration... of a 
stranger's erection.

Allan had been so engrossed in his own thoughts, he'd 
not heard Harry join him on the patio.

"Get dis down you, lad," Harry ordered, startling 
Allan. He jumped with a start, surprised to see Harry 
stood beside him holding out a freshly opened can of 
red stripe beer.

"Sorry. Didn't hear you come in," Allan said, trying to 
disguise the confusion in his voice. He was stood 
facing the man who just 2 days ago had fucked his wife 
before his very eyes. Right now, he hated Harry almost 
as much as he hated himself.

"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked, sitting on the 
lounger on the patio. What could Allan say? It was 
Harry's place after all. Allan took a swig of the cold 
beer, knowing it wouldn't make his emotional pain 
dissipate but it might take the edge of the feelings, 
even if it were just for an hour or two.

"You mad wid me or what?" Harry asked bluntly. Allan 
gazed out across the pool below them, the calm ripples 
on the pool water gentle and calm, unlike Allan's 
muddled mind.

"No..." Allan sighed, "...I'm not mad with you." Allan 
sat on a lounger next to Harry.

"Are you mad with Beth, den?"

"No, I'm not mad with her either," Allan responded.

"So what's de matter? You can tell me, I'm as good as 
family," he said. Allan found the sentence hurt him yet 
he also knew there was an element of truth in it. Harry 
may be a lot of things, but he's no-one's fool.

"Nothing! Everything!" Allan replied, confusing himself 
with his response.

"I knew you were watching us, you were stood stationary 
for about 10 minutes," he said, his chilled out manner. 
Chilled out or not, Harry was not holding his punches.

"Why did you carry on?" Allan asked, his blood pressure 
rising as he tried to hold his temper.

"'Cos you didn't stop me."

"Yeah, but..." Allan stammered mid sentence as he tried 
in vain to collate his thoughts.

"I know more about you lad than you know about 
yourself" Harry stated. Allan moved his eyes from the 
pool and stared at Harry.

"Oh you didn't know dat, did you?" Harry continued. 
"You see, when Maria was still alive, we'd hold parties 
here. Not just your ordinary parties, you know, but 
real wild parties. Sometimes we'd have live music, 
exotic dancers and everyting. And all the guests would 
end up in bed with a different partner. Sometimes they 
would sleep with several different partners whilst dere 
own partner watched."

"So? You're an old pervert. What's that got to do with 
Beth and me?"

Harry chuckled. "It's got everyting to do wid you and 
Beth. Don't you see?"

Allan shook his head. The old boy had totally lost it 
now.

"Give over, you silly old fool," Allan retorted icily. 
Harry chuckled louder.

"If I am de silly old fool, why is it that my dear 
Maria never strayed during all de years of our marriage 
but Beth has screwed around?" Allan's blood pressure 
began to rise further.

"I know all about de Spaniard guy. And I know about 
Beth being double penetrated in da night club and just 
like de other day, you stood and did nuttin'"

Allan's jaw dropped. He had not recalled confessing all 
of this to anyone. Beth must have told Harry all of 
their intimate details. He'd kill the cow, just see if 
he wouldn't. As though reading his thoughts, Harry 
continued.

"I've heard you guys reliving da past and I've got to 
hand it to you lad, I've never met someone quite as 
hooked as you."

"What, hang on? You've heard us? How? And what do you 
mean by hooked?" Allan blurted out. Harry chuckled some 
more as he stood. 

"Bring your beer and come wid me," he commanded. Allan 
followed the old boy down the corridor to the bedroom 
next to theirs. The proverbial 42 inch plasma screen 
lined one wall and on the dressing table was a Dell 
laptop and a few other gadgets like some sort of mini 
mixing desk and a hub with cables spewing out like some 
technological spagbol.

Harry took the laptop off hibernation and located some 
file which he opened with media player. Another couple 
of key strokes and the plasma screen burst into life. 

Allan's world fell apart as he viewed a close up of his 
own buttocks, fingernails digging in as his arse 
pounded into the flesh below, the flesh of his own dear 
lovely wife. Harry reached for the remote control and 
nudged the volume up. Clear as day in full surround 
sound, Allan heard his own voice and Beth's as they 
fucked. 

"You fucking pervert," Allan said, wanting to kick 
forty shades of shit out of the old boy. He could have 
easily killed Harry with his own bare hands, his 
adrenalin pumped through his body and his blood 
pressure rose further. Yet Allan stood rooted to the 
spot again, lost in anger and awe as he watched his 
betrothed fuck not some stranger, but her own husband, 
confessing her love as they ground their hips into each 
others.

Allan had, by now, seen Beth fuck total strangers 
several times but he'd never seen her make love to him. 
It was like having some OBE, and Out of Body Experience 
that you read about in the colour supplements of the 
Sunday papers. It was as though he'd become detached 
from his own body and was now an observer, standing at 
the side of the bed, no longer controlling the action, 
being reactive not proactive. Allan wanted to scream, 
to thump the computer, throw it out of the window, to 
pretend it wasn't happening, deny all knowledge of the 
fact that he was getting aroused at watching passively.

Suddenly, Allan felt weak and he staggered slowly 
backwards towards the large bed, collapsing onto his 
buttocks, the very same buttocks that he'd seen his 
dear wife force her fingernails into just a few hours 
earlier.

"You is addicted," Harry said, sitting beside Allan. 
He'd paled considerably, the blood pressure now falling 
through his boots and his skin became cold and sweaty. 

"You cannot help yourself, man" Harry suggested. Allan 
looked at Harry, removing his raybans and Harry saw the 
confusion within his eyes. Confusion mixed with 
sadness, anger, hatred, despair and every other 
emotion. It was as though Allan had experienced a 
bereavement of a close friend, the denial, the ire, the 
futility. 

"I told you I knew more about you dan you do about 
yourself. You see, you somehow need to know dat Beth 
really..." Harry emphasised the "really", "...loves you 
and what better way dan to have her have sex wid 
someone else. You get off on it, don't you?" Harry 
enquired. Allan nodded subconsciously, knowing Harry 
was right.

"You see, it's like a drug, it can be addictive. You 
have a high, den you need some more and before you know 
it, one fix is not enough. Am I right?"

Allan nodded again. He looked at Harry forlornly like 
some helpless infant who'd been separated from his 
family.

"How do you know?" Allan asked.

"I've seen it a tousand times before..." Harry replied, 
his pseudo Jamaican accent not sounding totally correct 
from a white (albeit tanned) Englishman, "...you get 
the need to see your woman perform. Oh, you may justify 
it as allowing her to sow her wild oats, she won't know 
how good you are until she's someting to compare it 
wid. Maybe, you tell her that you don't want to tie her 
down or some old nonsense but, I tell you now, it's 
nuttin' but good old fashioned bullshit!"

Allan wanted to punch Harry but he refrained for two 
reasons. Firstly, he hadn't the strength to even stand 
up, let alone throw a punch. Secondly, Harry had hit 
the nail on the head. Any excuses were just bullshit. 

"You think I'm addicted?" he asked, his breathing 
irregular.

"I don't tink it, I know it," came Harry's response. 
Allan felt weaker as the words left the old man's 
mouth.

"So what can I do?" 

"Well, dere's two tings you can do. You can either 
learn to live wid it or you can go cold turkey."

Allan wondered if there was a third option as neither 
of these ideas really appealed to him much.

"What do you mean, cold turkey?" he asked, not really 
wanting to know the answer.

"Well, let me see now. I tink dat maybe when you was a 
kid, if your dad found you behind da greenhouse 
smoking, he'd make you chain smoke a few packets one 
after de other until you was sick of it. Well, maybe if 
you were to witness your beautiful wife being ravished 
by udder people one after de udder, you may just find 
the experience too overpowering and bring you back into 
check. If not, you'll have to live wid it."

"H-hang on..." Allan stammered, "...let me get this 
right. You're trying to tell me that in order to get 
this out of my system, I've got to watch my wife be 
fucked by the world and his dog?"

"Pretty much," the old boy replied. Allan's jaw dropped 
again.

"No. This can't be right" he said, shaking his head. 
Harry's head nodded in his Courtney Walsh manner again.

"Oh yes it is right, my lad," he said and Allan knew 
Harry was correct.

"What am I gonna do?" he asked in desperation. Harry 
smiled his contagious smile as he looked Allan square 
in the eye.

"Leave it to me. Just be in dis room about 11 O'clock 
tonight. The mini bar will be stacked and the 
entertainment will be free" he said as he stood and 
left the room leaving Allan alone sat on the bed with 
his can of red stripe and the video footage of him and 
Beth still playing on the 42 inch plasma screen.


Chapter 18
----------

"Mmm, that was absolutely divine," Beth murmured 
appreciatively.

"Did that fill you up?" Harry asked. Beth nodded as she 
swallowed the last bit.

"Completely," Beth confirmed. "Best meal I've had since 
we've been on the island and, believe me, I've not been 
disappointed by any meal yet." Beth sat back in her 
seat, a look of total contentment on her face. The 
restaurant was busy yet sedate, the back ground noise 
little more than a quiet hum and was obviously good as 
it was frequented by locals and not over-run with 
tourists. It's usually a good sign if the locals eat 
there, she thought to herself.

The food had tasted delightful and she was definitely 
full. She rubbed her hand across her tummy as she felt 
a little bloated and Harry watched her casually as he 
had done so earlier through the one way mirror. The 
last time he'd seen her do that, Beth had been naked 
and he adjusted himself slightly in his seat, his 
erection that he'd had all through the meal becoming 
more prominent as his mind played tricks with him. 

He'd not taken a Viagra yet and he was in two minds if 
he needed to. He would, however, ensure Beth had some, 
just to make sure his plan would come together and 
wondered if he should change his name to Hannibal like 
the character from the "A" team! After all, he had the 
white hair!

Beth felt a vibrating noise in her handbag and guessed 
it was Allan texting her. 

"I just need to visit the powder room," Beth said, 
excusing herself. She made her way to the ladies toilet 
and sat in a cubicle, unlocking her cell phone as she 
did.

"UU LL XX" the text said. Beth smiled. Allan had been 
encouraging her to flirt with other blokes since... 
well forever! Beth had always enjoyed the challenge and 
the power but since Juan, she'd been a little more 
cautious. Certainly back in England, she'd been much 
more reserved and less flamboyant but she'd always 
acceded to Allan's demands because she loved him so 
much. 

More recently she'd not enjoyed the flirting bit, wary 
that it might lead on to something more sinister like 
being fucked again by yet another stranger and tonight, 
she didn't feel like flirting, she wasn't horny. Well, 
she was feeling horny, but that would have to wait 
until she got back. Allan wouldn't know what had hit 
him. Beth had decided the best therapy for Allan was a 
good long dose of her pussy on his love rod and she'd 
not rest until his addiction was cured.

She'd discussed things with Allan earlier and his mood 
had been lively and excited. Beth was still trying to 
get to grips with Allan's thought process. Maybe it was 
his hormones, the time of the month or something? The 
thought made her smile even more. She knew the reality 
of the situation, Harry had lifted his spirit in much 
the same way he'd lifted hers.

Allan had convinced Beth to wear something really sexy 
and despite her initial reluctance, she'd soon become 
agreeable. She'd dug out the classiest bra she'd 
packed, an uplifting and lacy half cup number with 
matching thong. The pearly white material had really 
accentuated her now wonderfully tanned skin, 
contrasting and complimenting. 

She'd worn a light summer dress, low cut and tight, 
clinging to her torso, highlighting her curvaceous 
body. The dress finished just above the knee and was 
slit both front and back, revealing large amounts of 
thigh as she walked and when she sat, the material was 
cut so as to barely cover her panties. With 2 inch 
heels, she looked so horny and erotic Allan had wanted 
a session with her before she left but she'd declined, 
saying she didn't want to mess up her hair and make up, 
or crease the dress. 

Allan had slipped her some "E" before she left and she 
was aroused but Allan had got the impression she was 
saving herself for later. He hoped she could contain 
herself until she got back as he desperately wanted to 
fuck the brains out of her. 

She felt sexy and she felt relaxed and now, with Allan 
in the front of her mind, she was feeling quite horny. 
Allan's text was encouraging her to flash her tits and 
her legs and to give a few kisses. Beth's text in reply 
was a simple one.

"OK" she typed before hitting send. She locked the 
keypad and flushed the toilet despite not having used 
the facility. She went to the wash basins and looked at 
herself in the mirror, prepared to touch up her make 
up. A shiver ran through her at the thought of the 
phrase "touch up" and the images of Harry's mature 
hands touching her, running up her thigh to her pussy 
made her shudder again, not with disgust but with 
elation. Shit, that "E" must be pretty pure stuff she 
thought.

Allan had slipped it to her and they'd discussed things 
more sensibly once Harry had spoken to them both. Allan 
had been quite agreeable to the fact that she was going 
out without Harry and that she was going to speak to 
Harry herself, without the need for Allan to hold her 
hand. Initially, she had wanted to tell Harry that what 
had happened previously should never happen again and 
that she should never had permitted her self to get 
involved. 

Allan had convinced her that as he was an old friend of 
the family, that she should help him. After all, he'd 
been without a female companion for so long and if she 
gave him an erection for the first time in years, it 
would be the charitable thing to do. Maybe even wank 
the old boy off or give him a blow job. She didn't have 
to go all the way, did she?

Beth had nodded, agreeing in principle with Allan yet 
knowing it was still wrong. But Allan was right in as 
much as Harry had been very good to them and his 
hospitality knew no boundaries, everything was laid on 
at no cost to them, even the "E" which seemed a more 
potent concoction than the stuff they got back home.

She rejoined Harry at the table, sitting with her legs 
crossed and revealing large amounts of tanned and 
shapely thigh. Harry had noticed her luscious legs but 
was using some discretion as he watched her, enjoying 
the moment.

"Did you know you remind me so much of Maria when she 
was your age?"

Beth smiled, slightly nervously, not knowing where the 
conversation was leading.

"She had very similar hair to you, girl and a smile to 
die for. We used to come to this restaurant lots before 
we moved to Barbados and when we returned to Jamaica, 
da same people owned the place and dey remembered us 
or, should I say, dey remembered Maria. She left images 
of her beauty everywhere she went. Like I said, very 
much like you."

Beth blushed at the compliment. 

"Have you ever thought of remarrying?"

"No. Wouldn't dream of it girl," Harry replied, 
draining the remainder of his drink. He looked around 
and saw all the waiting staff were busy.

"Let me get us both a refill," he suggested, standing 
and walking to the bar. Beth's mobile vibrated again 
and she looked at the screen.

"Update," it read. Crickey, he's damned impatient Beth 
thought to herself. She was aware that Allan had been 
suddenly very eager for her to thank the old boy for 
his ongoing hospitality. Earlier in the day, Beth had 
witnessed Allan get very possessive of her, his 
attitude towards poor old Harry had been quite 
aggressive at one point. Yet after Harry had spoken 
with him, Allan had chilled and become quite relaxed. 
Beth had wondered if the old boy had slipped Allan some 
ganja or something. To confuse her even more, Allan had 
become quite positive about her going out and spending 
the evening with Harry, to flirt some more with him. 

Beth looked at the text message again and was about to 
hit the reply key when she thought again. A few key 
strokes later and she was calling him as a voice call.

"What's the matter?" Allan asked eagerly as he 
answered.

"Care to share something with me?" she asked.

"Whaddya mean, sweetheart?" Allan replied, his 
eagerness evident in his voice.

"Why were you so keen for me to entertain Harry?" Beth 
asked. There was a pregnant pause before Allan 
responded.

"I just wanted you to show him our appreciation. He's 
done a lot for us over the last week or so. I just 
wanted you to let him know that we're grateful and that 
we understand about his loneliness. You know, what with 
Maria and everything," Allan said. He hoped he sounded 
convincing enough. Beth sighed heavily at the end of 
the phone.

"Yeah, I know. It was just a bit of a shock when I 
found him in his room... you know..." Beth said, 
lowering her voice in the restaurant, "...calling my 
name and stuff."

Allan nodded at his end of the phone, his body language 
totally pointless but an automatic response to Beth's 
statement. Realising she couldn't see him, he went to 
speak but Beth continued.

"It was sad, yet flattering that he could find me... 
you know... attractive and stuff."

"That's all the more reason to show our appreciation," 
Allan stated.

"Yes, but it's not you that is showing the 
appreciation, is it?" Beth retorted. 

"Somehow, honey, I think he'd find you more attractive 
than me!"

Beth chuckled out loud. How was it that even in the 
face of adversity, Allan could always say something to 
make her smile? God, she loved him so much. She looked 
up and saw Harry picking up the glasses at the bar.

"Look, I've got to go. Speak with you later, OK?" she 
affirmed.

"Just make sure he enjoys himself. Give him a night to 
remember you by," Allan urged.

"OK sweetie. Love you," Beth said.

"Love you too, Beth," Allan replied before the line 
went dead. Harry placed the glasses on the table in 
front of them both. He'd guessed who it had been on the 
phone.

"Is dat husband of your checking up on you?" he 
laughed. Beth tried to hide her blushes.

"Oh, no. Just picking up a voicemail, that's all," she 
lied. Harry guessed otherwise but he let the subject 
go. He sat back and took in the picture of beauty 
before him. Beth was uncannily like Maria had looked 
all those years ago, same hair style, same build, very 
similar looks, similar personality and every bit as 
sensual and horny.

It was almost as though he'd been transported through 
time on some weird Tardis or something, to a time when 
Maria was still alive. His thoughts wandered and he 
pondered over the saying they use on remembrance day 
about "They shall grow not old as we who remain grow 
old, age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn." 

He wondered if it were possible that he had travelled 
back three decades and met his dear beloved Maria, he 
was still a grey haired wrinkly but she was still a 
young nubile woman. Could it be possible? He knew it 
was impossible, yet his mind played tricks on him, evil 
tricks. He even imagined Beth had acquired the 
Caribbean accent like he had when she spoke instead of 
the mild Midlands accent she bore.

Aware of the pregnant pause, he reached for his drink 
and held it aloft as though proposing a toast.

"Here's to a fantastic evening," Harry suggested. They 
clinked glasses and drank heartily, Beth now almost 
immune to the firewater the locals called rum. 

"You like clubbing back home?" Harry enquired. Beth 
nodded.

"Drink up girl, I've a surprise for you." Beth supped 
the remainder of her glass as though it were mineral 
water, barely touching the sides before it slid down 
her esophagus and into her waiting stomach. She hoped 
the mountain of food she'd consumed would be sufficient 
to line her stomach. 

Harry took her to his pick up truck and gunned the 
engine, driving perilously close to other road traffic 
as he meandered his way through the local streets, 
parking at the edge of a large development which 
consisted of casino's and other dens of depravity. Had 
Beth not been with Harry, she might have felt 
uncomfortable in this part of town but with Harry next 
to her, she felt safe as houses. Just to be on the safe 
side, however, she linked her arm though his like she 
did with Allan sometimes. A few people looked at them, 
possibly thinking she was some tart hanging out with a 
millionaire and simply after the old boy's money but 
Beth had a strong personality and shrugged off the 
dirty looks that came her way.

Harry nodded to the bouncer on the door and they 
exchanged some high fives with a combination of hand 
shakes and other ritual like movements. Beth guessed it 
was the equivalent to being in the free masons, 
especially as Harry was a bit of a local celebrity. 

He lead her downstairs to a basement which was heaving 
with locals dancing, drinking and smoking a wide range 
of reefers. Harry got several high fives, pats on the 
back and a couple of hugs. Beth, too, attracted a lot 
of attention. The young Jamaican lads loved white 
girls, especially when they were dressed as sexy as 
this one. And to make their dreams come true, she was 
good looking as well.

"Why don't you have a dance while I get some drinks 
in?" he shouted to be heard over the reggae music. Beth 
was uncertain but Harry smiled and disappeared into the 
crowd before she could object. 

"Bollocks, why not?" she said to herself under her 
breath. She began to sway her hips and a small but 
noticeable space emerged around her, enabling her to 
dance freely, her slit dress affording the revellers 
excellent views of her upper thighs and, occasionally a 
glimpse of her thong. From behind, expanses of bare 
buttock was visible and Beth felt her self getting 
aroused in much the same way the locals were getting 
aroused, unaware that her body had been exposed to the 
Viagra.

She assumed the "E" combined with the rum was having a 
combination effect on her. Whatever it was, she felt 
happy and horny. She looked around at the clubbers and 
it was only then she realised she was not only the only 
white person in the club but pretty much the only 
female in the club. Yet she got the impression she was 
not in some gay bar, probably just a Gentlemen's club. 
She looked around at the mix of Rastafarians and 
Gangster type characters that frequented the club, 
uncertain if any of them were real gentlemen. 

She had begun to swing her hips with some ferocity now, 
the "E" loosening her up and she'd noticed Harry stood 
at the edge of the dance floor holding a couple of 
drinks, his hands in front of his chest and below his 
chest, an obvious bulge within his trousers. Beth's 
evil mind set to work, dancing erotically for him, 
looking him in the eyes and simultaneously licking her 
lips as she did. Despite the fact Harry always looked 
calm and took everything in his stride, it became 
evident that her suggestive dancing was getting to him. 
Beads of sweat lined his forehead in the air 
conditioned club yet it was Beth who was burning the 
calories.

She turned her body sideways to him, her swinging hips 
enabling him to see some of her bare buttocks as she 
cavorted about. Remembering Allan's request, this would 
certainly give Harry something to remember her by. Of 
course, by now, she'd attracted quite a big audience 
and she was aware of what was happening. 

A tall young lad of about 20 had manoeuvred his way 
across the floor and was dancing near Beth, facing her 
as she danced. Keen to arouse Harry further, she moved 
closer to the young lad who towered above her, his face 
bearing a six O'clock shadow. Beth swung her body 
around almost like she was in a vertical seizure, 
writhing in the air like she writhed on the bed when 
she fucked. Her hips circled in motion as she danced 
provocatively in front of the young Jamaican. She 
smiled sexily as the lad endeavoured to dance with her, 
finding difficulty in keeping pace.

Beth looked the lad in the eyes for several seconds, 
smiling as she did so. She then, very obviously, moved 
her eyes down to his groin, then back to his eyes, her 
smile increasing. She did this several times, noticing 
the lad had no control over the behaviour of the beast 
within his pants as it increased in size, the blood 
flowing to the soft spongy tissue making his penis 
enlarge. Beth turned her back to the lad and pushed her 
bum backwards so her arse was almost level with his 
groin. She noticed Harry stood at the side of the dance 
floor, his perspiration now very heavy. 

Beth turned round to face the young black kid, noticing 
he, too, was perspiring like some leaky tap. She placed 
her arms around his neck and danced with him, looking 
him in the eyes and licking her lips like she'd done 
with Harry only moments earlier. The guy was obviously 
sporting a massive erection and Beth enjoyed the 
sensation as she pulled him close to her, feeling his 
bulge against her body, only a layer of denim from his 
jeans and the flimsy material of her dress separated 
his hard on from her almost naked body. 

He was a strong powerful lad and she assumed he worked 
out a lot but she had the power over him. Her meek arms 
pulled him face closer to hers, her soft luscious lips 
glistened with lip gloss as she pouted suggestively, 
feeling the large puffy moist lips of the black guy 
against hers. 

The guy closed his eyes as he waited for Beth's soft 
luscious lips to meet with his but Beth was still in 
teasing mode. She blew gently on the side of his face 
until he opened his eyes. She winked at him before 
pulling his cheek against hers, her warm wet tongue 
licking the side of his ear lobe. 

"Do you like me?" she whispered into his ear. 

"I like you very much" the lad replied, his voice raspy 
as he struggled to get his breath. This horny English 
woman was arousing him like he'd never been aroused 
before and she was, quite literally, taking his breath 
away.

"Would you like to kiss me?" she whispered, her voice 
now slow and seductive like you might expect to find on 
a premium rate telephone number.

"Yes. I'd love to kiss you," he muttered in reply.

"Where would you like to kiss me?" she asked, her 
grinding hip movements returning.

"I want to kiss you all over" he responded, his arms 
pulling Beth closer to him.

"Would you like to kiss me here on the dance floor?" 

"I'd rather take you back home," the kid replied, 
hopefully.

"But I hardly know you" Beth replied, teasing the guy 
even more. "Besides, you don't know yet if you like my 
kissing" she added. The guy felt out of his depth but 
he persevered bravely.

"Show me how you kiss, lady?" he asked.

Beth moved her cheek away from his and she smiled 
briefly before gently placing her lipsticked mouth 
against the black kid's mouth. The kiss initially was 
brief and gentle but the guy went back for seconds, 
placing his black lips against Beth's, his tongue 
probing gently at her lips until her mouth opened 
sufficiently for him to slide his tongue inside hers, 
tasting the rum and milk which still hung on her breath 
from earlier. Big strong black hands moved down her 
back, gliding in gently at the waist as Beth's shapely 
body curved in, before smoothing back out where her 
sexy hips writhed against his.

His hand slid down the side of her thigh, her dress 
lifting as his hands travelled back up her thigh to her 
buttocks which were now on display to the watching 
crowd. The lad stroked the soft warm flesh of her arse 
as his kiss continued, exchanging saliva. Beth felt 
herself getting really aroused and she was getting hot 
and horny. All the dirty talk had aroused her even 
more. She wondered if she would be noticed if she 
disappeared and caught a cab back to Harry's place and 
fucked her husband for the rest of the night. 

Her mind considered the thought for little more than a 
micro second, aware that Allan was probably wanting her 
to role play again and, right now, she wasn't up for 
it. She was up for a good old fashioned hard shag, not 
some woossy play acting game. She quite fancied having 
her cervix stimulated again, not with some plastic toy 
out of "Ann Summers" but with something that had its 
own pulse. She briefly felt shocked she should even 
contemplate such a thought but the thoughts soon 
disappeared.

The music finished and the DJ had been so engrossed in 
the floor show, he hadn't segued the music fast enough 
and with the beat gone, Beth disengaged from the 
embrace and stepped away, giving the young black stud a 
wink and a little wave with her fingers.

She took her glass that Harry held as the music 
restarted and she looked at Harry's wide grin.

"What've I done?" she asked, her eyes full of mischief 
again. 

"You sure know how to enjoy yourself, don't you girl?" 
he chuckled. He raised his glass again and Beth copied 
his actions.

"Salute," he said, swigging the drink down in one. Beth 
smiled, knowing she was up for it, swigging the drink 
in one swallow. She almost choked as the fiery liquid 
lined her throat with its burning sensation. She'd 
swallowed so quickly, she'd not tasted the drink. She'd 
not even noticed the fact it was laced with Viagra. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and another young lad 
handed her a drink. 

"Dat's from my man, Ed," he said, pointing with his 
thumb to the guy she'd just been groped by. She took 
the drink and raised her glass towards Ed as a thank 
you. Ed smiled back, his brilliant white teeth 
contrasting against his dark skin in the poorly lit 
club.

A guy collecting empty glasses bumped into her, 
accidentally spilling some of her cocktail down her 
dress. 

"Nuts!" she barked, looking at the wet mark on her 
dress near her bust. She handed her glass to Harry.

"I'm just going to the ladies," she said, disappearing 
in a flash. She hurried to the toilets and the thumping 
beat became muffled as the door closed behind her. She 
found some toilet tissue and started dabbing it against 
her frock, hoping to get the stain out. A familiar 
noise hit her ears and she reached inside her handbag 
for her phone. Another text had come in from Allan.

"Better read it" she mumbled to herself. 

"Wot u doin?" it read. Nosey bugger, she thought to 
herself. 

"Harry got hard-on, snogged black man, had arse 
fondled," she texted before hitting send. Beth busied 
herself, moistening some tissue with water and 
returning to dabbing her dress, using the mirror to 
witness what she was doing. She noticed her lip gloss 
had smudged, the remainder was on the poor unsuspecting 
black guy a few moments ago. Beth reached inside her 
bag and redid her make up. Satisfied her face and her 
dress looked good, she was about to leave the bathroom 
when her phone vibrated again.

"Jealous. I want u2 fuck me. NOW!" the text read. Beth 
smiled to herself. Not only did she have Harry and all 
the guys in the night club where she wanted them, she 
had her own husband eating out of her hands, too. 

"Perfect!" she said to her reflection in the mirror 
before smoothing down her dress once more, taking 
special care to smooth it over her flat tummy. Images 
of her being bloated and pregnant raced back through 
her thoughts, her tummy full with the dinner she'd not 
long finished and she wondered if pregnancy was 
anything like having large dinners. She doubted it, but 
she wondered if the act of conceiving was anything like 
the unbelievable sex she'd recently enjoyed with Harry.

Her mind stopped mid-track. Enjoyed with Harry! Yes, 
she thought to herself, she had enjoyed it with Harry. 
There was no love in his actions unlike Allan's 
actions, but hell, he had a big cock and it had felt 
like heaven to her. But what about when she and Allan 
were ready to start a family? That would be sex with a 
reason other than just pleasure. 

Would it feel the same? She shrugged her shoulders but 
guessed she would probably know the answer one day. 
Until then, she would have to wait. Her mind suddenly 
clicked into action and she reached for her phone, 
having made Allan wait a few minutes for a reply.

"U hv 2 wait" she texted back, placing the phone in her 
bag afterwards. If it was good enough for her, it would 
be good enough for him. She nodded like Laurel and 
Hardy might before heading for the door back into the 
club.

She reached for the door handle and stopped in her 
tracks. She heard some strange noises coming from the 
room next door which could only have been the Gents 
toilets. She craned her neck to afford her better 
hearing. Beth frowned slightly until the sounds became 
more obvious and Beth's frown melded into a smile. 
There was a couple next door, having sex. Judging by 
the accents, it was 2 Jamaicans having it off in the 
bogs and it certainly wasn't two males! Beth listened 
intently, her curiosity getting the better of her. 

She reached for her phone and opened a new text 
message.

"Couple in loo, bonking," Beth texted. She hit send and 
stood still, hardly daring to make a sound in case it 
should disturb the couple next door. Beth conjured up 
images of large ebony hands caressing large ebony 
breasts, a huge black cock sliding effortlessly into a 
black pussy. Beth was not the biggest fan of porn 
although she would not shy away from it. But it seldom 
did much for her, it always seemed so staged and 
unreal. But this wasn't. It was as real as you could 
get. The girl's moans and demands of "Deeper" was 
mingled with the guy's vocalisations of "Fuck me 
harder", the distant beat from the disco making further 
interpretations of their dialogue difficult.

Beth's phone vibrated in her bag and Beth nearly jumped 
out of her skin. It would have been impossible for the 
sound to have been heard but she still felt awkward. 
Beth looked at the screen.

"Get Ur handz on black cock. Tell me all," it said. 
Beth was shocked and excited at the same time. She'd 
never seen black cock other than on the internet and 
she'd heard some wild rumours about the size of black 
guys penis'. Despite the fact Beth was partly 
embarrassed, the drug cocktail within her was over-
riding common sense. 

Pulling her shoulders back, she opened the door of the 
Ladies toilet, leaving the sound of the couple shagging 
back in the conveniences and headed for the dance 
floor.

She looked around and the guy who'd delivered her drink 
walked over to her.

"Harry said he'll be back in ten minutes. Got some 
business to attend to," the guy said, smiling. Beth 
looked around the club and guessed that 90% of the 
patrons were men and other than her and Harry, everyone 
else was black. Ordinarily back in the West Midlands, 
she might have been a little scared but tonight, Beth 
was full of confidence and out to have a good time.

Her eyes fell upon the guy she'd been teasing on the 
dance floor and he acknowledged her gaze with a subtle 
nod. Beth licked her lips and gave him the slyest of 
winks, followed by a nonchalant nod of the head to 
suggest he come and join her. He body language may have 
been subtle but the kid understood and he casually 
wandered over to where she stood.

His cool manner summed up the entire island. The 
country could be about to be destroyed by a killer 
tsunami yet they'd continue to chill out and relax and 
the lad's attitude was the same.

"Wotchu up to, lady?" he asked. Beth smiled.

"Come with me," she said, leading him through the door 
and along a corridor to the lavatories. The couple were 
still at it and the sounds were audible from the 
passageway.

"What are they doing in there?" Beth asked, a knowing 
smile crossing her lips.

The lad smiled broadly, displaying his lovely white 
teeth.

"Dey's fucking, miss!" he replied.

"But someone could just walk in on them," Beth 
suggested.

"So what? Dey do it 'cos dey like an audience," came 
the reply. "It's more fun if you tink you're gonna get 
caught, innit?" 

"Don't know, really," Beth replied, lowering her face 
slightly as though pretending to be timid. The guy took 
a step nearer to her.

"Would you like to find out wot it's like?" he 
suggested. Beth looked up. Her plan was working.

"Where? In the Ladies?" Beth suggested, knowing it was 
still empty. The guy leaned forward and at first Beth 
thought he might have tried to kiss her but, instead, 
he pushed the toilet door open and walked forward. Beth 
walked backwards to avoid being crushed and almost 
instantaneously, they were in the Ladies toilet. The 
lad switched one of the two light switches off, making 
the room more relaxed before he stood in Beth's 
personal space.

"Now why don't we try dat dance again?" he said, 
placing his arms around Beth's slender waist. At this 
point, Beth might have found it in her to have screamed 
but right now, she was up for the game. His large black 
hands were placed gently against her body as she began 
to sway her hips, her dancing movements slow and 
seductive. A gentle breeze blew through an open window 
and the Jamaican got a nostril full of Beth's 
delightful perfume mingled with the unmistakable odour 
of wet pussy. Beth, herself, was patently aware of the 
moistness between her legs and she writhed to the 
distant beat of the disco. 

She felt herself being pulled towards the black guy and 
images of "Dirty Dancing" shot through her mind 
briefly. It was only a fleeting image but within that 
time, the guy had expertly unzipped her dress at the 
back and as he released her arms down, the smooth dress 
fell to her ankles. Almost instantly, his large black 
hands cupped her breasts, moving the material of her 
bra over her nipples. 

His hands caressed the protruding nipples as they 
begged to be touched. The guy wasted no time, taking 
her nipples between his fingers and rolling them gently 
as you might expect to do with a cigarette. His lips 
nestled into her neck and kissed her slowly and gently, 
his breathing initially slow but increased in rate as 
his own excitement built. Beth could feel the monster 
within his trousers pressing against her bare flesh in 
the small of her back. 

The guy had continued the stimulation of her nipples 
with one hand whilst the other covertly caressed her 
side as it wandered round to her back, unclipping her 
bra with one hand, an operation he was obviously very 
skilled at. 

With her breasts liberated, he moved his other hand 
back to Beth's bosoms, caressing them with his large 
hands. Beth was by no means petite but her tits felt 
lost in his enormous hands as he gently stroked her 
chest.

Beth was feeling very aroused, partly due to the drugs 
she'd consumed and she felt her hands reaching behind 
her as though on autopilot, finding the offending organ 
that pressed against her body. She ran her hands along 
the full length of his enormous erection, feeling the 
seams of his trousers almost at bursting point as his 
manhood struggled for attention and liberation. 

Beth pulled away from the embrace, turning to face the 
kid. His eyes almost popped out of his head as he took 
in Beth's naked breasts for the first time and his 
tongue hung from the corner of his lips. Beth looked 
the guy in the eye, then at his groin. She remembered 
the text she had received from Allan and, still on 
autopilot, she sank to her knees. 

Beth reached and touched the bulge, her palms of her 
hands running slowly and gracefully along the entire 
shaft. She teased him for a few minutes, slowly 
circling his bulge and his testicles beneath before 
offering temporary relief. She unbuckled his belt and 
unclipped the button on his jeans before slowly, 
painfully slowly, unzipping his fly. Beth showed no 
surprise at all when she discovered the guy was without 
any briefs as his erection sprung into view like some X 
rated jack-in-the-box. 

Her hands gently encompassed the guy's cock which was 
at full length. It was thick, almost as thick as old 
Harry's and it was long, too. She felt the strong pulse 
within and noticed how the tip was purple, just like 
Allan's yet the shaft was black. She gently pulled the 
foreskin back with her hand, the movement slow and 
subtle, her hand moving itself to the very base of his 
penis before it began the long journey back to the tip. 
Each movement caused the guy to breathe heavily, his 
eyes shutting and he felt the first sensations of knee 
tremble. He reached behind him and used the hand basins 
to steady himself as Beth slowly masturbated the lad.

His penis was now dripping with pre-cum and his short, 
curly pubic hairs were matted with his own juices, 
having been imprisoned within his jeans without any 
underwear. At this point, Beth might have teased him a 
bit with his trousers round his ankles, then done a 
runner. He'd never be able to catch her with his 
strides down. But her own dress was off and, anyway, 
she was having lots of fun. 

The lad reached down and stroked her hair, subtly 
pulling her closer to his throbbing organ. Beth 
understood, moving herself gently nearer to him. Her 
warm breath fell against his sensitive testicles and he 
could almost feel her breath condensing on his balls, 
making his skin wet with something other than his own 
fluids.

Then, without realising it, his balls were wet. Beth's 
tongue slid gently against his bollocks, slow and 
tantalising, her licking intermingled with kissing and 
sucking and a host of other movements and sensations.

"You is so horny" he muttered, his own body starting to 
be overtaken with lust and desire. Beth did not speak, 
her tongue was too busy gorging itself on his enormous 
reproductive organ. Beth had changed her movements from 
his balls to his cock, moving her tongue along the side 
of the enormous shaft. He opened his eyes and looked 
deep into Beth's eyes which were smiling. She was 
enjoying herself, by all accounts.

Noticing he was fully aware of her actions, and without 
taking her eyes away from his, she guided the tip of 
his cock into her mouth, past her lips and onto her 
tongue. She took a deep breath before moving her body 
forward, trying to take the entire length of his 
erection into her mouth and into her throat. She felt 
her cheeks stretching as she struggled to open her 
mouth wide enough. 

The girth of the kid's erection was putting immense 
pressure on her face but Beth persevered, bravely 
taking as much as she could into her mouth. She closed 
her mouth and began to suck, slowly and deliberately, 
her tongue trying to lick his cock all over but the 
sheer size of it restricted her tongue movements.

She removed part of his length before she began sucking 
again, her tongue now able to circumnavigate her own 
mouth and the organ within. Her left hand cupped his 
balls, tickling them whilst her other hand slowly 
wanked him. The kid groaned in pleasure and gripped the 
basins behind him for firmly as Beth gave head like 
never before. 

The kid gasped for air and despite the cool breeze, he 
sweated like a pig as her head bounced up and down on 
his tool. A vein on his erection stood proud, like some 
zig-zag worm and the entire penis felt firm yet spongy. 
Beth dropped the hand that had been cupping his balls 
and she reached for her own sex, fingering herself 
through the panties that she still wore, frigging 
herself as she wanked and sucked, vaguely aware that 
she didn't even know the kid's name and it was probably 
too late to ask, especially with her mouth fully 
occupied.

She felt herself building up for an orgasm and she 
frigged her self with more vigour, she masturbated the 
kid with equal increase in pace. Beth felt herself 
reaching her own climax and as she did so, she felt the 
penis in her mouth become more rigid as it's owner 
built his own crescendo, cumming in her mouth, filling 
her with his white sticky seed, pump after pump, it 
shot onto her tongue and around her teeth. Beth 
struggled to swallow before the next spurt splashed 
against the roof of her mouth.

God, she needed Allan right now. She needed cock inside 
her. She felt so horny as she swallowed her last 
mouthful.

Noises outside suddenly made Beth realise that maybe 
they'd been able to have been heard like the couple in 
the loo next door. All was quiet next door and she 
wondered if they'd been listening to her as she had to 
them.

A rap on the door made her jump.

"Beth? Is you in dere?" Harry's voice asked.

"Be out in a minute," she said, hurriedly. She heard 
footsteps disappear and she rapidly dressed and left, 
leaving the kid stood gripping the basins with his 
Levi's still around his ankles.


Chapter 19
----------

The club was still heaving and the music rang out like 
the heartbeat they used to have on the opening credits 
of "Casualty" on the telly. Beth felt wild and ready 
for a good session on the dance floor, some alcohol and 
some "E", she was up for a bit of fun. 

"Every ting OK girl?" he asked. Beth nodded. Was it her 
or were the disco lights a bit extreme tonight? Maybe 
she was getting pissed, the amount of drink she'd 
consumed, it was highly likely. Maybe the "E" was the 
purer stuff than you get in the UK. Maybe it was export 
strength. 

Had she thought that before? Her mind was playing 
tricks with her again. She was lucid but something was 
happening within her own head, like reality had been 
temporarily suspended. Leaves on the line, maybe. Shit, 
she was even making dumb comments to herself. Was she 
turning into Allan? Where were these odd thoughts 
emanating from? She felt like knocking her head against 
a wall, try and bang some sense into her.

"Shall we sit down?" Harry said, noticing her dazed 
state. Beth gazed at Harry blankly for a moment or two.

"Err. Yeah, OK," she said before almost collapsing into 
his arms.

"I tink I'd better get you home, girl," he said, 
putting an arm around her and leading her slowly 
towards the door. The crowd made a path for them and it 
was like the parting of the Red Sea, only it wasn't 
Moses, it was Harry. A local lad wearing a New York 
City baseball cap held the door open whilst another 
young lad with a shaved head helped Harry carry Beth 
upstairs to the fresh air. The bouncers saw Harry and 
he slipped them a sly wink. 

"Be lucky, Aitch," one of the bouncers said. Harry 
helped Beth to the car slowly. She sat in the pick up 
truck and looked at her host.

"Sorry, Harry. Don't know what's come over me," she 
said. Harry smiled.

"It's not what's come over you, it's more what's gonna 
come inside you," he said, chuckling to himself. His 
lewd comment was lost on Beth, her mind feeling like 
she was sort of pissed but only in the middle. Her head 
was sort of lucid and she could walk straight but her 
body in the middle was in a muddle. She wondered if 
she'd be able to say that as a tongue twister but 
decided against it for the time being.

The journey home was just like any other (if you're 
used to competing in the Lombard RAC rally) as Harry 
sped like greased lightening back to his mansion. 

Beth was able to get out and walk unaided but Harry 
entwined his arm in hers as she had done earlier. 
Leading her in the back door away from prying eyes, he 
gently helped her up the stairs to her bedroom. The 
lights were on low and Harry laid her gently on the 
bed. 

"I'll be back in a moment," he whispered and left 
swiftly. Beth sat back on the bed and closed her eyes 
as though the light was offensive. She'd not 
experienced it before the other day when she'd ended up 
watching Harry abuse himself and, ultimately, fuck her. 
She wondered if the alcohol was affecting her vision or 
if too much sex was making her blind. Either way, she 
was much more comfortable with her arm over her face 
blocking out the side lights from the room.

She adjusted herself on the bed and Beth lifted a leg 
to make herself more comfortable. The material of her 
dress fell away from her leg revealing the tops of her 
thighs and her sexy microscopic pearly briefs. Unaware 
of how little her clothes hid, she laid there unabashed 
as she hear Harry return.

"Here, girl. Dis'll refresh you," he said, handing her 
some mineral water. Beth tasted it gingerly to begin 
with and realising it was just water, downed the lot. 
She was half sitting, her hand over her eyes as though 
shielding her eyes from the hot sun. Despite her poor 
vision, she was aware of Harry's gaze on her bare legs, 
her thong on display.

"You know some ting? You is lovely," Harry said as he 
laid a hand on her leg, running it slowly up her thigh. 
Beth wanted him to stop. This was wrong. But if it was 
so wrong, why the hell did it feel so good. She 
immediately became aware of the moistness between her 
legs and a quick glance through her blurred eyes 
confirmed the wet patch had seeped through her thong, a 
big dark patch covering virtually all the pearly white 
satin material. She tried to shift herself to afford 
herself some dignity and preserve any dignity she may 
have left but her mind was not willing enough. Harry's 
wrinkled hand continued its slow and delicate journey 
along her upper thigh, moving more of her dress 
material out of the way.

"No, you mustn't" she protested but without any 
conviction. Harry moved his hand closer and closer to 
her wet patch, his other hand helping to move her other 
leg apart to enable easy access to the pussy he had 
pounded just a few days earlier. His knuckles brushed 
against her cunt and Beth gasped out loud, the 
sensation not offensive. On the contrary, it was 
delightful.

"I'm married, Harry" she whispered, as though she 
imagined it would stop Harry in his tracks but Harry 
was not easily put off. Beth realised to some people, 
the sentence might even be considered "Dirty talk." 

Allan would probably have got off on it. Visions of her 
husband flooded into her brain, how he'd been a 
thoughtless bastard recently and how he deserved to be 
taught a lesson. But then she remembered how much she 
loved him, how devoted they were to each other. He was 
her husband, but he was more than that. Allan was her 
friend, her soul mate her buddy, her confidante, her 
reason for being, the one she wanted to have a baby 
with. Yet here she was being groped and mauled by some 
old wrinkly pervert whilst Allan was probably sat at 
the bar drowning his sorrows.

"I love Allan," she whispered.

"I know you do..." Harry replied, "...and you know 
some-ting? Allan wants you to fuck someone udder dan 
him." The words echoed around Beth's brain and she felt 
confused.

"W-what do you mean?" she stammered. Harry grinned.

"I know all about you and him. I know every-ting. I 
know about you in Ibiza, how you ended up having sex 
with udder men. I know dat before dat, you and Allan 
used to play act tings together. I know dat Allan gets 
off on dat sort of ting. He likes seeing you having 
someone else's dick inside you. Why do you tink he 
didn't interfere wid us de udder day?"

Beth went to respond but found herself speechless. By 
heck, he was right, she realised. It all started to fit 
into place. Allan had seen her being screwed by Juan, 
and by Kris and Simon, and had even witnessed her with 
Harry yet he'd not taken any action. If anything, he'd 
watched the entire thing with amusement. She'd been 
nothing more than his entertainment. 

"I don't understand. Why would he do this to me?" she 
asked, genuinely concerned.

"'Cos he feels inadequate, girl," Harry said, his 
pearly white teeth grinning at her as though each tooth 
was mocking her. "He likes to see you squeal with a big 
cock inside you girl. "He cannot deliver so he gets 
someone else to do it. I tink the buzz word it out 
sourcing!" he said, his tone almost malicious. His 
words were not without an element of truth but 
essentially, he was winding her up. 

He wanted another chance to fuck the arse off Beth, the 
woman who reminded him so much of Maria. And nothing 
was going to get in the way. He hated himself for 
telling Beth such lies but his focus was on getting his 
dick wet, screwing her all night, filling her cunt with 
his seed, making her squeal. He'd even told Allan he 
needed to go cold turkey. What a Wally! Allan needed to 
punch the old boys lights out, not watch him defile his 
delightful wife before his very eyes. Allan had 
accepted Harry's word and had set up camp down the 
corridor watching like some pervert from afar when he 
could easily walk into the room and 
kick forty shades of shit out of him. And just like 
Allan, Beth was falling for his lies as well.

"But he's not inadequate. He's plenty and I love him," 
Beth protested. Harry's hands continued to massage the 
soft fleshy skin of her thighs and breasts.

"You know dat and I know dat but Allan believes you 
need more dan he can give you."

"But why?"

"'Cos he loves you, girl" Harry replied. "He loves you 
so much, he wants to you experience this" he added, 
leaning forward to kiss her. Beth felt Harry's lips 
against hers and just like back in the night club an 
hour earlier, she'd permitted the kiss, allowing 
Harry's tongue to explore her mouth. She recalled how 
Harry had inserted his cock into her a few days back, 
how he'd brought her to climax in a way she'd never 
known possible. She'd still be in the dark had she not 
experienced it and may well have gone to her grave 
never knowing what she was missing.

As though on autopilot, Beth's tongue entered Harry's 
mouth, feeling his natural teeth and one denture with 
her tongue, her kissing becoming hungrier and more 
passionate.

Harry disengaged from the kiss, his spare hand now 
fondling a breast, his other hand still massaging her 
soft silky inner thighs, the sides of his fingers 
pressing against the wetness of her panties.

Beth let out a long sigh of delight as Harry's hand 
teased her sensitive and moist vaginal lips.

"You like dat?" he whispered, his own breathing 
increasing in rate as he, himself, got excited.

"Mmm," Beth murmured seductively, aware that this was 
wrong, that once again, she may end up going further 
than she intended. Beth doubted if she'd ever intended 
to stop Harry if he made a move on her again. Provided 
Harry made the initial moves, she figured it would be 
OK.

Harry slipped his other hand inside her dress, his hand 
against her soft warm breast, the silky material of her 
bra against his fingertips adding to the sensations of 
pleasure, noticing how firm her nipples felt. 

"You enjoyed the other night, didn't you?" Harry asked, 
already knowing the answer. Beth just murmured in 
agreement, her own satisfaction levels rising rapidly. 
Her eyes were closed against the low subtle lighting of 
the room, the Viagra making her eyes a little 
sensitive. Harry, however, had no such problems even 
though he'd made sure he'd taken some himself when he'd 
gone to get the bottled water, unaware that some folk 
suffer photophobia with the drug whilst others don't. 
Harry was too engrossed in his goal.



Harry was very aware the hidden cameras in the room 
were being controlled by Wesley, his best friend, 
including the one which was hidden within the smoke 
detector at the foot of the bed. Harry carefully 
positioned himself so that the live images which Wesley 
was capturing could be transmitted to the room where 
Allan was now sat watching. Harry had practised the 
capture of such images before but always as the camera 
operator, so he knew how best to position himself so 
the camera would be able to zoom in on his finger 
movements around Beth's panties which, by now, were 
virtually dripping wet. 

"What did you enjoy most?" Harry urged, aware that his 
audience down the hallway would be hanging on their 
every word and that dirty talk was an essential part of 
the whole process. Beth just murmured, embarrassed to 
confess her most innermost secrets. She'd felt cheap 
and dirty at first but now she thought Allan had wanted 
her to shag the old boy, she lost herself in her own 
thoughts. She wondered how her own imagination could 
defy her true feelings, blissfully unaware that the 
Viagra had lowered her resistance and made her hornier 
than ever.

"Tell me what you enjoyed da most," Harry urged again, 
his fingers teasing her pussy in the process. Beth 
wanted just to expel her inhibitions and feel those 
sensations again as she had the other day. Less talk, 
more fucking. She needed to cum and she very much 
doubted if one climax would suffice. She was up for at 
least six orgasms, anything else and she'd feel cheated 
and short changed.

"I liked the fucking," she whispered, her voice barely 
audible.

"You liked what?" Harry replied, playing the game not 
just for Allan's benefit but for his own gratification.

"Fucking! I liked the fucking."

"Did you like me fucking you?"

"Oooh, yes!" she said with genuine appreciation.

"What did you like da most about it?"

"When you entered me" she responded, almost without 
thinking. "God, you're so big!"

"You like big cock, do you?"

"Mmm," Beth muttered, her hand reaching out for Harry's 
protrusion from his trousers.

"You want my big cock now?" he asked. He need not have 
bothered asking, she'd undone his belt with one hand, 
opened the button holding the trousers and was in the 
process of unzipping his fly.

"You don't hang about, do you?" he chuckled.

"Tell me what you want, girl," Harry commanded, his 
knuckles gently and purposely grinding against her 
wetness.

"I want your cock inside me," she muttered, sitting 
upright. "I want to feel your cock inside my womb, to 
cum as deep inside me as you can." She'd liberated his 
rock hard penis and was running her hand slowly up the 
immense shaft, noticing how much bigger he was in 
relation to Allan. The image of Allan flashed briefly 
before her eyes and she wondered where the hell he was, 
but the image vanished as quickly as it appeared as 
Harry slipped a finger beneath the damp silky material 
of her thong, soft bushy pubic hair greeted the pads of 
his fingers before reaching the warm moistness of her 
vaginal lips. 

She gasped with excitement as his fingers slowly 
stroked her genitalia, her vaginal lips already open 
and ready to be filled. Harry would have loved to have 
plunged himself deep inside her at that very second but 
he was a patient man and he wanted this experience to 
last all night. Plus he had an audience to entertain 
down the corridor and he wasn't going to let his 
audience down.

Beth found herself so aroused, combination of the 
Viagra and the "E" that she couldn't stop herself from 
her erotic needs.

"I need you to fuck me," she whispered in Harry's ear. 
Harry kissed her cheek and continued his gentle and 
erotic probing of her pussy. Beth moaned in delight as 
Harry inserted half a finger into her waiting cunt, 
sighed in despair as the finger was withdrawn, then 
moaned in pleasure again as two fingers were inserted. 
Harry teased her slowly, Beth continuing to run her 
soft sweet hand along the entire length of his cock.

Harry removed his other hand from her breasts and 
reached behind her, slowly unzipping the flimsy summer 
dress she wore. Tantalisingly slowly, he reached the 
bottom of the zipper and began to peel the shoulder 
straps of the dress over her arms, revealing centimetre 
by agonising centimetre of her upper torso, her rapid 
breathing in her uplifting bra making her look even 
more sensual. Her lip gloss had smudged a little when 
Harry had kissed her but she didn't need make up, her 
beauty was such she was perfect without help. 

Beth's dress was now around her hips and Harry 
disengaged from her and gently tugged at her dress, 
Beth instinctively raising her hips to allow the dress 
to be pulled from underneath her, past her legs and 
discarded on a chair over by the patio window. Harry 
took the time to remove his shirt, his trousers fell to 
his ankles as he stood, courtesy of Beth's earlier 
endeavours. Stepping out of his outer clothes, the both 
looked at each other dressed only in their underwear, 
appreciative of how the other party looked.

"Girl, you is perfect. You know dat?" Harry said.

Beth reached up and pulled Harry on to the bed with 
her. 

"This perfect girl needs your perfect cock," she said, 
pulling him closer to her, her mouth searching for his. 
Their lips met and she could feel Harry's body pressed 
against her and, despite his trunk type briefs, she 
could feel his cock pulsating against her flat tummy.

Again, the words spun around her head like a tornado. 
Her flat tummy with Harry laid on top of her, his big 
cock inside her, ejaculating within her, deep inside 
her womb, bathing her entire ovaries possibly with his 
warm sweet sperm. 

Maturity had been quite kind to Harry, his hair was 
grey but not white, he had mostly his own teeth and he 
was beginning to put on a few pounds around the waist 
line. She remembered a comedian once saying that 
someone had once called him fat and was told that if 
that stomach was on a woman, she'd be pregnant, to 
which he replied it has been and she is!

Yet the more Beth thought of having Harry, this grey 
haired wrinkly climax inside her, the more she got 
aroused. How taboo would that be? How dangerous? How 
erotic? 

Her hands had run down Harry's back and found the 
elastic waist band of his briefs, slowly tugging at 
them, eager to remove them and free the one-eyed 
monster from within, the sperm breathing dragon that 
she hoped would visit her cave.

"Please fuck me," Beth whispered as their lips parted. 
"Cum inside me."

Harry was finding the dirty talk even more arousing and 
he wondered if he'd really needed to take the Viagra 
earlier or not. She was one horny bitch, he thought to 
himself. He'd not really ventured into dating since 
he'd met Maria and the fact that Beth was begging for 
his meat had certainly boosted his ego. Shit, she was 
fucking horny and she knew how to turn him on. He took 
a few deep breaths as he tried to gather his composure, 
not wishing to disappoint his audience down stairs with 
a bit of premature ejaculation.

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked, teasing her now 
with his words as well as his fingers.

"Yes, Harry. I want you to fuck me," she said, the 
words flooding out like water from a hosepipe, her 
mouth meeting his and she inserted her tongue inside 
his mouth, not giving the old boy the opportunity to 
say no. He felt that resistance would be futile and as 
she lay back on the bed, pulling Harry further on top 
of her, she heard his moans of delight as his naked 
erection brushed against the wetness of her thong. 
Their heavy breathing and total focus on each other.

Allan was finding the entertainment difficult to 
contend with, especially as the sound kept dipping out 
periodically. Here he was, helplessly watching his wife 
having her lovely, curvaceous, sexy body being violated 
by this old fart and Beth was a willing participant. 
How could this be? He'd seen her being virtually raped 
by the Spaniard some months ago, and seen her as the 
victim of a date rape drug (he'd found out later via 
hearsay in the club although he'd never told Beth about 
it) not a few days later. Allan had also seen Beth have 
her body violated by this old fart and although she'd 
been receptive, it had been initiated by Harry. But 
now, something had changed. The tide had turned and she 
was now initiating things. Or that's how it appeared to 
him. 

He was trying to go cold turkey, just as Harry had 
suggested, which was bad enough, and watching the woman 
he loved being mauled and begging for it was almost as 
much as he could bear. His frustration was made all the 
worse for the lack of sound. It wasn't as though the 
signal was being beamed via satellite from the other 
side of the globe, it was a couple of bedrooms away. 

He was tempted to trundle down the room to watch and 
listen direct but he knew it would go against the grain 
of what Harry had suggested. Right now, Allan wanted to 
storm down to his room, pick Harry up and throw him 
over the balcony. But Harry seemed to think the best 
course of treatment for him was to sit and watch and 
this is what added to his frustration. 

He sat back on his stool, Allan's mind was now back on 
planet Earth, having been orbiting some far away galaxy 
for so long. How the fuck could he have been so fucking 
stupid? How come he had not seen the damage he'd been 
doing not just to Beth, but to their entire 
relationship. 

Sure, he'd felt some remorse after the Juan affair 
(Allan wished he'd thought of another word rather than 
affair) but then when she ended up being fucked by Kris 
and that slimy cockney bastard, the remorse he'd felt 
was less, if at all. It was as though he was becoming 
immune to seeing his own sweet wife having sex with 
total strangers. The initial impact had been one of 
wild eroticism but now, Allan was in two minds.

He'd totally fucked up, big time. How could he have 
been so idiotic? After all, if he'd really appreciated 
Beth, would he have encouraged her (he hadn't forced 
her, had he?) into screwing around. Teasing other guys, 
leading them on just to give him an ego boost so they'd 
disappear and fuck like rabbits was every bit as 
dangerous as playing Russian Roulette with a loaded 
pistol. It was bound to go off at some point and 
someone would get seriously hurt. Only this hurt was 
emotional.

Allan reached for another beer. He looked at the can 
and contemplated drinking the contents, thinking it 
might make the hurt go away. He'd never thought of beer 
as an analgesic before. But Allan pondered on how long 
the effects of the drug would last, knowing the pain 
would return at some point. He couldn't remain legless 
for ever, not even politicians can do that!

His eyes were drawn back to the plasma TV, Beth had 
found herself without her bra and a mop of silver hair 
obscured the view of her pussy as Harry ate out of 
Beth's most intimate parts. The sound had returned and 
her squeals of pleasure culminating in the first of 
several climaxes filled the room and Allan desperately 
wanted to shut out the sound, to put cotton wool in his 
ears, shut out the sounds. He wanted to reach up and 
turn the set off or find the power cable and rip the 
plug from the wall. For the first time since his wife 
was fucked by a stranger, he wanted to do something to 
stop it, to save her.

Yet once again, he sat rooted to the spot, fascinated 
by her actions, her body no longer betraying her, she 
was proactively begging for sex. Allan felt sick when 
he realised she was not in fantasy mode, she was 
demanding Harry to satisfy her needs. Allan wanted to 
look away, to think about watching the Villa, the 
various projects at work that would need his attention 
when he returned to the office, anything other than 
listen and watch his wife in total ecstasy with another 
man.

Allan could understand Harry's needs and to a certain 
extent, he could even find it in his heart to forgive 
the old boy. Allan considered this was his contribution 
to age concern! 

Beth was now free of her thong and she almost screamed 
as Harry had entered her wet snatch, his movements slow 
and gentle yet Beth felt the Harry's bulbous head 
stimulate every single nerve cell in her pussy. With 
very little delay, she felt the penis head pulsating 
against her cervix again and it was at that point she'd 
squealed, her climax so sudden it took them both by 
surprise.

Harry's cock was now beyond her cervix and he gently 
thrust back and forward an inch or two at a time, 
enjoying the sensation of his cock against her small 
tight cervical collar. Beth was also enjoying the 
sensation, her eyes tightly closed again as Harry made 
love to her, his unhurried manner adding to the total 
surreal atmosphere.

"I love your cock inside me, Harry," Beth confessed.

"You like a big cock, do ya?" he asked.

"I love big cock. Especially your big cock," she said. 

"Why is dat, girl?" 

"'Cos it feels so hot!" Beth responded, raising her 
hips as high as she could, trying to get every last 
micron of Harry's meat inside her.

Harry withdrew and told Beth to roll over. Disappointed 
as she was, she did as she was told. Harry looked at 
his reflection in the mirror, knowing Wesley was 
watching them, using a handycam behind the glass.

"I've got a little surprise for you later, girl" he 
said, winking at his reflection in the mirror, knowing 
full well one of the camera's was located there. "But 
first, put dis in your mouth" he said, more for the 
benefit of Allan. Harry's enormous erection bounced 
around in front of Beth's face. She sat in front of the 
bed on her knees, her arse to the mirror and she helped 
Harry lay down, taking his cock in one hand and cupping 
his balls with her other. 

"Now save your cum. I want your cum inside me again. 
Deep inside me," she said as she smiled. She was 
feeling so horny and she honestly believed she was in 
control. Harry, however, just smiled.

"Give me some head, girl," he ordered. Without any 
delay, Beth set about sucking the old boy's cock, her 
fingers encasing his balls as she gently massaged them 
between her fingers, her fingernails gently scratching 
the side of Harry's thighs. He closed his eyes and his 
thoughts took over, memories of years gone by.

"Suck me, Maria. Give me some head, girl," he said. 
Beth heard him use Maria's name and she almost stopped, 
mid suck. By Christ, he thinks I'm Maria she thought to 
herself. That's why he was whispering my name. He 
thinks I'm his late wife.

"I love you so much, Maria," he whispered. Beth took 
her time as she sucked him off, thinking how she should 
deal with this situation. She was feeling horny but she 
realised maybe she was being used. Harry was a lovely, 
kind old gentleman with a big cock and a fantastic 
array of sexual moves but she also felt she was 
becoming a victim. 

Harmless it may have been, but she suddenly felt 
uncertain. So why was her pussy dripping wet, then? Was 
it the "E" she'd been plied with? Maybe Harry had 
slipped her something else. That's it! Suddenly Beth 
realised she may well have been the victim of some 
other type of coercion. She had no idea what, if 
anything, but she guessed something had made her 
hornier than ever.

Her actions had slowed down and Harry had removed 
himself from her mouth and crawling on the bed so he 
was positioned behind her. Her mind span as Harry 
placed his firm erection against her wet and willing 
pussy lips. Slowly and definitely, he entered her, his 
enlarged purple head sliding easily into her vagina, 
her moistness easing his passageway into her most 
personal of areas. She gasped with delight despite her 
mind trying to force thoughts of repulsion. 

"You always liked it like dis, didn't you Maria?" Harry 
asked. What could Beth say? She wanted to say "No." she 
wanted to tell him she was Beth, not Maria, that she 
wanted this to stop. She wanted to cry out for Allan to 
come and save her, whisk her away from this madness. 
She desperately wanted to be back in the Midlands, grey 
clouds rather than grey hair her current preference. 
This shouldn't be happening, couldn't be happening, 
mustn't be happening. The sudden sensation against her 
cervix, however, told her it was happening. It was real 
and it was now and it felt... soooo good!

She hated herself for thinking that but her body sent 
signals of pleasure to her brain and without any 
conscious control, she toppled over into climax, her 
muscles tightening and he body gently convulsing as her 
orgasm ploughed through her body, every nerve cell 
tingled in the process. Her breathing had become 
laboured as Harry plunged himself deep into her, time 
and time again, his smooth rhythm as regular as a drum 
beat, no pauses for breath. Suddenly, the tempo changed 
and Harry's thrusts became faster, his depth and pace 
increasing. He placed his hands on Beth's hips, his own 
knees firmly fixed to the mattress and he pivoted from 
his own hips, forcing himself deeper into his prey.

Beth so wanted Harry to stop yet her body continued to 
defy her. 

"Fuck me harder" she heard herself say as Harry fucked 
her, his cock now ramming so deep into her Allan 
thought it might cause her internal damage. What if the 
old boy damaged he so she couldn't have children? He'd 
kill the bastard, that's for sure.

"I is gonna come inside you, Maria," Harry said out 
loud and this time, Wes was not quick enough to dip the 
sound. Allan suddenly sat up, alert as though he'd been 
slapped in the face. 

"What was that?" he said out loud to himself. Bollocks! 
If this was Sky , he'd be able to rewind that bit and 
replay it. This was a live broadcast, however, and he'd 
missed it. All of a sudden, Allan's senses were 
reawakened. He sat and watched, transfixed on the 
action but also the sound. If he was right, the old boy 
was confusing Beth with Maria. Or was he just 
substituting her? If Harry thought he was screwing 
Maria, it couldn't be adultery, Allan figured. Was that 
how the old boy's mind was working?

Shit! Was he mad or something? Maybe it was he who was 
mad. He'd been agreeable to let Harry screw his wife as 
a form of therapy. But was it therapy?

"Bollocks!" Allan said out loud again.

Back in the other bedroom, Harry's face was becoming 
distorted as he held on bravely to his climax before 
relinquishing control and emptying himself deep into 
Beth, not before he'd pulled her hips into his hips 
with such force, Beth squealed in pain, then delight as 
his penis head stimulated her cervix again, the first 
squirt of cum tickling her nerve endings and sending 
her into yet another orgasm.

Harry removed himself and the slopping sound was 
clearly audible on the soundtrack but no further 
mention of Maria as yet. Beth collapsed on the bed face 
up, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her 
breath.

Allan moved his stool nearer to the enormous screen, 
the act of being physically closer making him feel more 
in control. The volume was up sufficient to be loud but 
not too loud to distort the sound. If only he could 
find a way of pausing or rewinding the action, he'd be 
better placed to make some sort of judgement.

Allan watched Beth's chest heaving up and down as she 
gulped in oxygen, her breathing making her perfect 
breasts move in unison with her body, gently rippling 
as she did. Allan had always admired Beth's beautiful 
body, her breasts in particular although there was not 
a single part of her body he didn't like. He loved her 
personality, her compassion, her entire being. He sat, 
mesmerised, as her body recovered from the exhaustive 
sex she'd just shared with Harry. 

Harry had recovered quickly, his body belying his age 
and Allan assumed Harry had used something to boost his 
stamina. Almost as confirmation, Harry leaned forward 
and kissed Beth.

"You is pretty damned good, girl," he uttered. She 
smiled nervously back at him as he manoeuvred his way 
back on top of her, his dominating position making him 
even more overpowering. He lowered his face again and 
Beth closed her eyes to shut out reality. This was just 
like the role playing she and Allan had enjoyed over 
the last year or two but somehow, this was different 
because this was real. This wasn't Allan pretending to 
be Richard Gere or Wayne Rooney, this was real and not 
fantasy.

Beth felt Harry's moist lips press against hers and her 
initial feeling of revulsion were, once again, 
overtaken by feelings of desire. Her nerves tingled 
again as Harry's hands mauled her heaving bust, her 
nipples protruding, pointing, demanding attention. 
Harry's expert fingers wasted no time in stimulating 
her breasts and despite her mind telling her to reject 
the old bastard, she found herself returning his kiss 
as her tongue probed inside his mouth.

No words were spoken but the audible soundtrack was 
almost too overpowering for Allan as the sound of lips 
against lips mingled with the sound of tongue against 
tongue, intermingled with the sound of flesh against 
bedclothes and murmurs of appreciation as they both 
moaned in pleasure.

A change of camera shot honed in on Harry's enormous 
and still firmly erect penis, the very tip oozing the 
pre-cum that had lubricated his entry into Beth several 
times before and Allan noticed that the entire shaft 
was still wet, covered in Beth's own love juices. The 
picture panned out slightly, showing the unmistakable 
mound of Beth's own pubic hair and Allan guessed he'd 
be able to identify his own wife just by her pubes, 
which was how well he knew them.

Harry lowered his hips into Beth's vacant groin, their 
lip smacking and moans of delight still filling the 
room. Allan thought he could guess what was going to 
happen next but, once again, old Harry surprised him.

Harry lowered his hips below the level of Beth's 
soaking wet pussy and in an action that took some 
skill, he directed his throbbing member into her anus, 
his pre-cum smoothing it's entry into her arse as 
though he was slicing butter with a hot knife. Allan 
went to wince, awaiting Beth's yells of agony or her 
demands to stop but the yells never came. Just the 
slurping noises of kissing and the grunts and groans of 
ecstasy as Harry plunged his abnormally large dick up 
Beth's arse. 

He released his hold on her breasts and disengaged from 
the kiss. Harry supported himself on his hands and dug 
his knees into the mattress before he started to pound 
Beth's rectum with his dick. Allan guessed he was 
probably getting the best part of two thirds of it into 
her as Harry fucked her with an ease that seemed 
unfeasible. Beth laid on her back, her eyes shut and 
her lips apart, groaning in delight and thrusting her 
buttocks into Harry's thrusting groin. 

"God, I've missed dis!" Harry uttered through his 
laboured breath. Beth did not respond to his words but 
she moved her hand down to her pussy and started to 
stimulate her own clitoris, her own breathing now 
increasing in depth, her movements becoming more 
vigorous as Harry pumped his hips into hers.

"Shit! That's goooood!" Beth muttered. Harry and Allan 
both smiled simultaneously at Beth's words. Beth had 
always been good at dirty talk and that was another 
thing to add to Allan's list of things he loved about 
his wife. It also seemed that Harry got off on it too.

"You like it up de arse?" he asked, his pace never 
faltering. Beth nodded and sighed deeply as Harry moved 
a knee up the bed an inch or two, along for deeper 
penetration.

"Fuck me. Don't stop!" Beth implored as Harry shoved 
his erection in and out of her back side. Harry 
willingly obliged.

"You've always liked it like dis, haven't you?" Harry 
asked. Harry was now the one in fantasy land, not Beth 
or Allan. It was as though he was at some weird 
perverted séance where he own departed wife had 
returned for one last fuck. And Harry was going to 
exploit this to the full. He'd been without Maria for 
more than 2 years and he'd been celibate for all that 
time. It hadn't been until he'd had Beth accidentally 
fall into his arms on his boat a few days earlier that 
he'd even had an erection but now his manhood had 
returned with a vengeance, he had lots of time to make 
up and he didn't have a minute to loose. 

Allan noticed the screen change to a wider shot from 
the foot of the bed and he saw Harry's arse thrusting 
up and down, his wife thrusting back into Harry and 
Beth frigging herself off. Seconds later, her entire 
body firmed up as an orgasm of gigantic proportions 
swept through her body, her head thrashed around on the 
pillow as she fought for control, a battle she 
inevitably lost as her muscles contracted, held then 
slowly relaxed.

Harry was still in full swing, his hips continued to 
pound into Beth's.

"Tell me you love me," Harry ordered. Beth was still 
endeavouring to regain her breath yet again and tried 
to play for time. Her whole body bounced on the bed 
with each thrust of the old boy as he continued to fuck 
the arse of Beth. Quite literally!

"I love you," he muttered, as if it would persuade Beth 
to confess her undying love for him.

"I love being fucked," Beth muttered, hoping it would 
pacify Harry. She didn't love him. She loved Allan. 
Full stop.

"Tell me you love me," Harry demanded again, his voice 
still gentle and persuasive. Beth's mind raced. What 
the fuck was wrong with him. Did he really think a sexy 
young woman like her could ever fall for a bloke three 
times her age? Had he had some "E" too? Beth tried to 
think quickly, not an easy task when there's eight or 
nine inches of cock up your arse.

"Do you love me Harry?" Beth replied, developing her 
plan as she fucked.

"You know I love you, my dear," Harry replied.

"Tell me, Harry. Tell me you love me and use my name."

"I love you Maria. I've missed you so much. It's good 
to have you back again" he said. Beth opened her eyes 
and saw the emotional pain behind Harry's wizened old 
eyes. Sadness and sorry, emptiness and loneliness, 
desire and devotion, anger and frustration, 
embarrassment and elation were all mixed in together. 
But the over-riding emotion of them all was love. Deep 
love. It was a deep love that only people that were 
truly, deeply, madly in love with each other could ever 
understand. 

And Beth did understand. After all, she experienced it 
as well. Not with Harry but with Allan. She was so 
totally devoted to him that she could see so much of 
herself in Harry. No amount of barriers could ever stop 
her loving Allan. Not now and not ever.

Allan, who was observing via the plasma screen was also 
dumb struck. He sat with his jaw agape as he heard 
Harry confess his innermost secrets. And he recognised 
that Beth had come to the same realisation about Harry. 
Yet Harry's words also struck a chord with Allan. He 
could identify with Harry. The feelings of being so 
deeply in love was something that many should be able 
to experience but most probably didn't. It was 
intangible yet so definite. It was something that was 
either there or it wasn't.

"Maria loves you too, Harry," Beth said. Harry smiled 
at Beth, his tears blurring his vision but 
irrespective, he still saw Maria in his mind's eye. He 
was making love to Maria and she was making love to 
him.

Harry opened his eyes, his vision blurred with tears. 
Despite the Viagra he'd consumed himself a couple of 
hours earlier, his erection suddenly waned and Beth 
felt it recede within her arse. Harry's body racked as 
his sobbing increased, the vibrations causing him to 
disengage with Beth's body. 

Beth looked deep into Harry's saddened face. 

"I miss you so much, girl," Harry said. Beth felt 
Harry's erection pulsate within her colon, followed by 
the tell tale sensation of ejaculation as he came 
inside Beth's rectum.

"It's over now, Harry," Beth whispered gently as she 
wiped Harry's penis with a tissue from the beside 
table. She sat on the bed next to him and cuddled him. 
He wrapped his arms around Beth and wept like a baby 
and Beth comforted him, patting him gently on the back.

"I needed to make love to Maria. Just one more time. I 
miss her so much," he sobbed. Beth pulled him closer to 
her, cuddling him like some distraught toddler as he 
wept, his cheek against Beth's shoulder

"There, there, there" Beth said gently. "It's OK to be 
sad. Maria would understand" Beth continued, her voice 
authoritive but calm. 

"I just need to feel her love. Just one more time," he 
repeated. Harry had originally planned a surprise of 
his friend, Wesley, coming into the room and maybe 
joining in towards the end. Why? Harry hadn't really 
known why. He'd arranged various swingers parties in 
the past and had arranged for unannounced visitors to 
join in. It was as though it were habitual. Yet 
tonight, he had no real intention of sharing Beth 
because, in Harry's own mind, it wasn't Beth. It was 
Maria. He'd never let Maria be touched by another man 
and he'd never lay his hands on another woman, so long 
as they both shall live. That was a part of their 
wedding vows and their love was such that they'd never 
ever default on that agreement. Sure, they'd cavorted 
naked in public before at their many parties, even 
flirted a bit. They'd even had sex with each other 
whilst others watched. But that was where the line was 
drawn and in Harry's mind, right now, he was being 
intimate with Maria.

Call it telepathy, call it woman's intuition, Beth 
instinctively guessed what Harry's dilemma was. He had 
really thought Beth was Maria. That was why he'd been 
masturbating over her a few days ago. Yet then, he was 
aware it was Beth, she'd heard him with her own ears 
whispering her name. And now, a few days later, he was 
confusing Beth with Maria. It seemed so ridiculous but 
so tragic. 

Beth felt pangs of remorse run through her body. How 
could she leave this old bloke, a good friend of the 
family for many years, in this state? Beth had, 
inadvertently found herself in some perverted love 
triangle (quadrangle to be precise) with Allan, Harry 
and Harry's recently departed wife. Maybe she'd been 
guilty of the same crime, not being able to tell 
fantasy from reality. All the role playing and pretence 
between her and Allan had maybe taken it's toll but she 
knew, right now, that Harry's denial had sent him into 
fantasy land like Alice through the looking glass or 
Peter Pan.

Beth sat up and gently sat Harry up. He looked at her, 
his tears still streaming down his face.

"Maria wants you to feel better," she whispered, 
reaching for his flaccid penis. Beth gripped his 
manhood and gently caressed it, feeling it enlarge as 
she did. "Maria wants you to know she loves you very 
much and that she always will love you" Beth continued, 
her voice slow and husky. Harry responded by placing 
his hands on Beth's shoulders as she slowly masturbated 
him, her movements slow and delicate unlike earlier 
with the Jamaican lad in the toilets.

"I want to make love to you, Maria" he urged, his hands 
slowly dragging down Beth's arms until they were level 
with her bare breasts. He reached out and touched Beth, 
flesh against flesh. Beth permitted him access whilst 
she continued to draw back his foreskin and stimulate 
his senses. 

"Maria wants you to cum" Beth whispered. "She wants you 
to cum like you used to cum" Beth continued. She became 
aware that her subtle dirty talk was having an effect 
on Harry and he's erection responded, becoming firmer 
and thicker as the cells within filled with blood. 

"Maria always loved the taste of your cock, didn't 
she?" Beth asked, slowly lowering her body towards his 
erection. 

"You sure did, girl!" Harry replied, lost in his own 
fantasy again. Beth opened her sweet mouth and took 
Harry's enlarged organ into her mouth again, running 
her tongue around the inside of his foreskin before 
sucking on him for a few moments, pausing for breath, 
then repeating the process, her hands stimulating the 
shaft of his dick. Harry's breathing became more rapid 
as he fought to retain his composure but Beth was 
taking no prisoners. She would suck him off until he 
came, then it would be all over. She'd had enough of 
the fantasy life for now, reality had taken over. In 
fantasy world, everything is fine, no one gets hurt or 
upset. Reality is a different phenomenon altogether.

Harry began to rock as he sat on the bed, his movements 
endeavouring to push himself deeper into Beth's mouth. 

"Tell me you love me, girl," Harry urged, his thick 
Jamaican accent still sounding totally out of character 
for him, despite the fact Beth was used to it.

Beth removed his dick from her mouth and she gulped in 
oxygen before she could speak.

"Maria loves you, Harry," she said warmly, her hand now 
slowly and tantalisingly stimulating him. Harry wanted 
more. Much more.

"I need to fuck you," he blurted but Beth stood her 
ground.

"Feel my nipples, Harry," she urged, hoping her wanking 
and dirty talk would send him over the edge. "They're 
erect because of you, Harry," she whispered. 

Harry obliged, his hands cupping and tweaking Beth's 
lovely breasts and he noticed how the white patch 
around her pussy was not replicated across her chest, 
indicating Beth had been up to a bit of topless 
bathing. The thought aroused Harry even more. Maria was 
always a very liberated lady, anyone could see her but 
no one but Harry could touch or enjoy her body.

"My pussy is so wet, Harry. Why don't you touch me 
there?" Beth suggested. Harry's mind was all over the 
place. His fingers gently swept across Beth's engorged 
clitoris and they both gasped at the sensation. Beth 
was finding her dirty talk was arousing her as well as 
the old man.

"I love de taste of your pussy, Maria," he said, 
leaning his head down to her groin and burying his head 
into her lap, his tongue lapping at her pussy lips, 
greedily licking and sucking like some demented kitten. 
Beth threw her head back as the sensation of Harry's 
rough tongue sliding against her wet pussy lips sent 
her into ecstasy. 

Beth put her hands on his head, aware of the thinning 
hair she could feel could not be Allan and that this 
shouldn't be happening, but happy to go with the flow. 
After all, she blamed herself for having lead the old 
boy on in the first place. The least she could do was 
to finish him off, give him a blow job or a hand job 
and let him think it was his late wife.

"Put your tongue inside me, Harry," Beth said between 
large gulps of air. Instantly, her pussy was filled 
with tongue and a finger or two, the tongue lapping 
across her clitoris and Beth felt the wave of orgasm 
strike with little warning, her body arching and 
becoming rigid as she reached glorious climax, her 
breath held and her teeth clenched tight before a 
mighty exhale and semi collapse onto the bed. 

Beth tried to re-gather herself but Harry had taken the 
initiative and had laid on top of her, trying to force 
his erection in to Beth's soaking wet vagina. 

"I need to make love to you," he said, his breathing 
making his words difficult to decipher.

"Finger me, Harry, make me cum again," Beth implored, 
hoping Harry would be satisfied with more foreplay. She 
reasoned that if she could get her breath back, her 
energy might return and she'd mount him and go sixty 
nine on him until he came. Hell, she might even take it 
in her mouth and swallow it. He'd enjoy that, she 
thought.

Harry, on the other hand, had his own agenda.

"I is going to finger you alright, girl..." Harry's 
voice uttered and Beth felt his body move, the weight 
upon her body lifted before it lowered again and as he 
lowered himself, she felt her pussy lips being 
violated. "...wid my big fat cock!"

Beth felt the penetration and it winded her slightly, 
just as she was recovering. His size, despite having 
been fucked by him before, still took her breath away.

Harry understood her reason for breathlessness – Maria 
had been exactly the same. He withdrew it slightly so 
jus the very tip was inside her.

"Tell me to fuck you, girl," he ordered, his attitude 
firm but not aggressive.

"Maria wants to suck you off" she said, hoping Harry 
would be agreeable.

"Tell me to fuck you, girl," Harry repeated. "Please!"

Beth saw the desperation in his eyes, his tears had 
stopped but his mind was still in fantasy land. What 
could she do? She had bugger all choice.

"I need to feel you in my mouth," she suggested as a 
final attempt to defer the inevitable.

"Tell me to fuck you. Please!" he begged. Beth took a 
deep breath. She could tell him to fuck off, to get 
real, for him to wake up to reality. But he was so sad 
and she felt guilty at adding to his emotional pain.

"Fuck me, Harry. Fuck me," Beth whispered. Harry's 
movements were as though the video had been paused and 
her words were the finger on the remote control. The 
words left her lips and Harry's arse sank into the bed 
and with it, his enormous cock sank deep into Beth's 
open cunt. The tip of his cock again brushed against 
her cervix and Beth squealed in delight as his 
thrusting continued to brush against her delicate 
parts, causing her to gasp and squeal, but not in pain.

Harry's movements became more vigorous and Beth could 
tell he was building up to one almighty final climax. 
This might be the very last time he would experience 
such sensations and Beth knew she should at least try 
to make the experience as memorable and pleasurable as 
possible.

"Fuck me deeper!" she implored and Beth realised that 
it wasn't just her saying the words, she really meant 
it. The Viagra had sent everything into overdrive and 
she was enjoying the session every bit as Harry was. 
Maybe she realised it might be the very last time she'd 
feel her cervix being fucked in that way unless Allan 
got a penal extension which she wasn't too sure he'd be 
too happy with. That would be serious surgery.

"I is gonna cum in a minute, girl. You sure you wanna 
do dis?" he said, almost as though his sub conscious 
was interfering with his fantasy world.

"Fuck me Harry" Beth screamed, "Cum deep inside me. 
Please" she begged as she thrust her hips back into 
his. His thrusting movements were fast and basic, no 
love just lust, no finesse just fucking. Beth thrust 
back hard, her movements replicating his.

"Cum inside me, Harry," she uttered.

"Is you on da pill, girl?" he asked, his face reddening 
with the exertion.

"No," she replied.

"Dan I should stop?" he said, more of a question than a 
statement.

"No. Fuck me, cum inside me. Fill me up, Harry," Beth 
said, her teeth clenched together as, once again, 
Harry's enormous cock toppled her over the edge and she 
climaxed, her muscles tightening on Harry's cock and 
the very thought of impregnating his dear Maria sent 
him into climax, too.

His erection bounced within Beth as the muscles 
contracted, releasing millions of tiny sperm into 
Beth's womb, bathing her insides with his love juices, 
pumping, releasing, ejaculating, time after time until 
his pumps began to subside.

Beth smiled at him, her hair all over the place. Her 
total beauty, not just the visual stuff, but her 
beautiful personality overflowed, filling the room like 
the scent from a fresh bouquet of flowers. She had been 
so unselfish, allowing him the chance to feel as though 
he'd been able to share his physical love with Maria. 

Harry was back in the land of reality. He withdrew from 
Beth and wept again. He finally realised that Maria was 
gone and the loss saddened him. There was no coming 
back. Beth reached for another tissue and cuddled up to 
Harry. This time, Beth spoke as Beth.

"We both know Maria is gone. Forever, Harry. But your 
love for each other lives forever. That much I know," 
Beth said, gently. Harry nodded in acknowledgement but 
he did not attempt to speak. He would not have been 
heard, anyway.

They sat there for a good ten minutes before Beth stood 
up and found her gown. Covering herself up, she went to 
the mini bar within the room and poured Harry a good 
stiff drink, taking one for herself.

Harry took the glass from her and looked deep into 
Beth's eyes.

"What've I done to you, girl?" he said, his voice full 
of genuine sorrow.

"Here. Drink this," Beth urged, helping lift the glass 
to his lips. Harry took a large gulp, the fiery liquid 
lining his throat like a blanket, warm and reassuring.

"I've deceived you and lied to you," he said. Beth 
looked at his kind old eyes.

"You meant no malice," Beth said, smiling. Harry smiled 
back but it was a humourless smile.

"You don't understand girl," Harry protested but Beth 
placed a finger on his lips.

"That's enough talking for tonight, Harry. Why don't I 
walk you to your room and you can get some rest. We'll 
talk in the morning."

"But I need to explain. To you and to Allan..."

"All in good time. Now, come on, let's get you to your 
room."

Beth helped Harry to stand and he felt awkward and 
embarrassed. He was still naked and his erection was 
now flaccid and harmless and he looked forlorn and 
tragic. It was though he had aged 10 years in as many 
minutes. The realisation had struck home, Maria was 
deceased and never to return. It was final. No going 
back.

Harry had accepted Maria's death with some dignity at 
the time, but he had never really let go, shown his 
emotions. Oh, sure, he'd cried a lot but not with any 
real depth or reality. He'd clung to the thought that 
her demise was somehow temporary and that she would 
find a way back to him. He'd thought she'd been 
reincarnated through Beth yet he'd known Beth since she 
was a young girl. Beth had been a friend of the family. 
His mind had played awful tricks on him and now he felt 
foolish and lonely, his one thing that kept him going 
was the thought that he could be with Maria again and 
now that had been taken away from him.

Beth placed a blanket from the bed over his shoulders 
to protect his modesty and she put an arm around him as 
she lead him down the corridor to his own room. She 
shuffled along like some old codger in a retirement 
home, his head hung low in shame like David Beckham 
when he misses a crucial penalty. Despite the volume of 
drugs and alcohol within Beth's body, her own mind had 
regained possession of her thoughts and direction. At 
long last, Beth felt in control. She could now 
differentiate between fantasy, reality and intimate 
love.

It dawned on Beth that the phrase spelt 'frail' and 
when her indiscretion with Juan occurred not so many 
months before, her relationship with Allan had felt 
just like that. Frail. And since then, they'd both been 
through hell and back. Yet if anything, the experiences 
had made their love stronger. It humbled Beth to think 
that they'd both been exposed to experiences you 
normally only read about on dodgy adult web-sites but 
this had been real. 

Beth held back a humourless chuckle. What was real and 
what was fantasy had rolled into one so that she'd lost 
sight of the shore of reality. Suddenly, despite 
pharmaceutical intervention, it was all clear as though 
a blurred lens had suddenly focused and everything 
could be defined.

Wesley had also been brought back to his humble self, 
his eyes welling up with tears as he disconnected the 
video equipment and powered down the laptop.

Allan had disappeared to the bath room and acquired a 
big handful of toilet tissue to wipe his eyes. He 
hadn't cried like this since he'd watched "Bambi" as a 
child. He cursed himself for being a right "Wuss" but 
he felt better for letting it all out. It was as though 
he was letting out not just the tears of sadness about 
Harry and Maria, but also the pain and suffering he'd 
subjected Beth to. 

Allan had changed his mind about Beth, however. She 
wasn't one in a million anymore. Oh, no. She was one in 
a hundred billion. At least! Heck, he was so lucky to 
have her.

Allan switched off the plasma screen and made his way 
back to the bedroom. The sheets were in the same 
disarray he'd witnessed on the screen before Wes had 
ceased transmission. It had dawned on Allan that there 
had obviously been someone else controlling the audio 
and video but Allan was past caring. All he needed now 
was a big cuddle from his wife, to feel her warm body 
against his and for him to be able to confess his 
ongoing undying love for her.

Allan heard a noise at the door way and he looked up 
and saw Beth. He smiled nervously at her, an awkward 
silence fell upon them both as neither knew what to 
say. Allan remembered an old saying that if you cannot 
find the words, use actions and he opened his arms and 
took Beth into them. They cuddled and embraced for what 
seemed like an eternity. It felt so good to have the 
one you love in your arms. 

"Shall we get some sleep" Allan suggested. Beth looked 
Allan in the eyes and nodded sleepily. Allan picked 
Beth up in his strong arms and carried her to the bed, 
lying her down gently and covering her with the sheet. 
It was a warm evening and a blanket was not necessary, 
their own body heat next to each other would be all 
they needed. Within minutes, they were both asleep.


Chapter 20
----------

"Gale force winds have forced the closure of the QE2 
bridge over the River Thames and heavy rain has left 
much of Ironbridge flooded as the stormy weather 
continues to affect the United Kingdom. The port of 
Oban on the West Coast of Scotland has cancelled all 
ferries to the Islands of the Inner Hebrides and 
emergency supplies are having to be airlifted to remote 
communities. Here's our reporter..." the news bulletin 
went on. Allan had only switched onto the BBC to see 
the sports results but the news bulletin had depressed 
him more. Maybe with the bad weather, their flight 
might be delayed and they'd have to stay put for 
another couple of days.

Beth was still in the shower, having slept until almost 
mid-day and it seemed totally ludicrous that they 
should even contemplate breakfast at lunch time. The 
note under the door in Harry's handwriting had 
suggested breakfast at 2 O'clock and they felt obliged 
to attend. They both knew it would be an awkward affair 
and they were not exactly looking forward to it. But it 
was like anything, it had to be addressed. By not 
dealing with an issue, it would only result in tears. 
Look at poor old Harry when he failed to come to terms 
with Maria's demise.

Beth appeared from the bathroom and Allan turned his 
attention away from the TV and looked at his wife. As 
always, she was stunning, lighting up the room like a 
crystal chandelier. Allan smiled and his heart melted. 
She was wearing the same outfit she'd worn last night 
when Harry had ravished her, the split in her dress 
showing off her beautiful legs. Allan felt his groin 
stir and he tried to control his pending erection.

"You look lovely," he said, standing and holding out 
his arms. Beth rushed to him and they kissed 
passionately.

"Sorry about last night," Allan said as they 
disengaged. 

"Sorry about what?" Beth asked, her eyes full of 
mischief. She was going to enjoy teasing Allan.

"You know..." Allan said, not finishing his sentence.

"Oh. You mean farting in bed!" she joked. Allan 
realised Beth was trying to make light of the 
situation. Allan was cool with that but he had so much 
to say to her. He wanted to apologise to her, to 
express his true feelings and explain how he felt 
jealous yet aroused but it meant nothing until he was 
reunited with her again. He wanted to explain how Harry 
had told him he needed to go cold turkey but it wasn't 
until he had made those comments about Maria that he'd 
realised exactly what he was doing.

"Come on, we're gonna be late," Beth said before Allan 
had a chance to talk further. Beth pulled him by the 
arm and lead him down the stair well to the lobby where 
a taxi was waiting. 

The journey was less hurried than Harry's driving, the 
leisurely trip enabled them to enjoy the scenery and 
the weather. A far cry from the storms and gales that 
were battering Britain and stunning views across the 
harbour and into the Caribbean sea was far superior to 
the views across Cannock Chase on a foggy November 
afternoon.

Harry sat at his usual table, rum and milk already in a 
glass for each of them. Harry was dressed in white 
trousers and an open necked shirt, his sandals a little 
out of synch with the rest of his attire. He greeted 
them both as though he was meeting them for the very 
first time and they sat around the circular table. A 
waiter approached and Harry suggested the fish as a 
starter. Allan and Beth nodded in agreement and the 
waiter left them to their privacy.

The table was on a veranda and overlooked the harbour, 
offering a serene and pleasant atmosphere.

"How is you today, girl," Harry smiled at Beth. Beth 
nodded, blushing slightly.

"I'm good, thanks," she replied.

"What about you, son?" Harry enquired as he turned his 
attention to Allan. It was Allan's turn to blush now.

"Yeah. Fine!" Allan lied. He felt really uncomfortable. 
This was not a normal situation to be in, socialising 
with a bloke who's fucked your wife more than once.

"What about you, Harry. How are you?" Beth asked with 
genuine concern. Harry smiled.

"Oh, don't you worry about me. I is just fine!" he 
said, laughing as he spoke. Allan and Beth looked at 
each other, both thinking the same thing.

"Harry?" Allan began, "...You know we spoke yesterday 
afternoon about...things?"

"Ah, yes. That's why I brought you out here. You see, I 
wanted to apologise." Harry said, his eyes flitting 
between the two of them. "You see, I had dis weird 
feeling dat Maria was still alive. In da flesh. But 
sadly, her flesh is dead and buried up on dat hill..." 
Harry used the palm of his hand to direct their view to 
a rolling hillside between the restaurant and the 
mountains, "...but she still lives... in here!" he 
said, placing his palm against his chest. "She will 
live forever in my heart."

Beth and Allan looked at each other again. They had so 
many questions but both were too uncertain to ask them.

"You see, I have to tank you two for showing me da way 
forward..." Harry continued, as though he'd pre-empted 
their thoughts, "...dat I shouldn't be looking at de 
past, but looking to da future. And I know Maria 
wouldn't want me to be lonely. She'd have told me to 
get off my big fat arse and do someting wid my life. 
That's what she would have said. And you know what?" 
Harry raised his eyebrows.

"She'd have been right. She was always right. Instead 
of looking for a replacement for her, I should have 
been looking for someone different. Maria was Maria and 
no one could ever be her." Harry turned his gaze 
towards the harbour and smiled.

"Maria used to love dis spot. We always had dis same 
table and looked over da same beautiful view every 
time. And it's so beautiful and peaceful. But I have 
found a new place to eat on the other side of the 
island and that overlooks the cricket ground and 
mountains and da breeze is such that it takes da edge 
of da heat. Just perfect."

"You've a beautiful home here, Harry," Beth said as she 
took in the breathtaking views of Jamaica.

"And you are both welcome here any time for as long as 
you like. Just get your flights and you can stay wid me 
for as long as you want. My treat!" he said.

"Well, thanks, Harry, but I'm not too..."

"Oh, I know what you is going to say..." Harry 
interrupted, "...and dat is part of da reason I brought 
you out her today. I want to apologise."

"What for?" Beth said and Allan wondered if she was 
going to play the game she'd played earlier with him. 
If she accuses Harry of farting in the bed, I'll walk 
out, Allan pondered.

"I've cheated and lied to both of you" he began, "and I 
want you to know I is truly sorry for what I've 
subjected you to."

Harry turned to Beth. "I've plied you wid so much rum 
you'd have to go through the red channel when you land 
back home..." he giggled, "...but I've also given you 
drugs, too!" he said, his manner becoming more sombre.

"Yeah, You said you'd get some "E" but that was our 
request," Beth replied. Harry hung his head.

"You didn't ask for the Viagra, did you?" he added. 
Allan's jaw dropped but Beth, although surprised, held 
her composure.

"What Viagra?" she said, sternly. Harry's head hung 
lower.

"You have to believe dis. You reminded me so much of 
Maria, I had to find a way of getting closer to you. So 
I gave you some Viagra."

It was dawning on Allan why Beth had become so hot and 
horny during her sessions with Harry. It was all 
fitting into place. The scheming old bastard had fooled 
them. Allan still couldn't find it in his heart to hate 
the old man, however. Sure, he'd bottled that Spaniard 
cunt, what was his name? Juan or something. But he was 
a bastard. Harry was just a sad old man. 

"I don't understand," Beth said, bringing Allan back to 
the present.

"You wouldn't want to be intimate wid an old fellah 
like me unless you had another reason to. Like Viagra 
would loosen you up a bit. And I thought it'd be like 
being wid my dear sweet Maria again..." his voice 
tailed off.

Beth reached for his hand and held it in hers.

"You soppy old fool!" she said, smiling. Harry looked 
up at her face and saw genuine affection, the type of 
family affection you would show to your grand parents.

"Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me?" Harry 
asked, tentatively. He knew he'd damaged any trust they 
may have had in him and he hoped deep in his heart they 
could find it within themselves to forgive.

Beth smiled. "Do me one little favour," she said. Harry 
looked at her quizzically as, indeed did Allan.

"What?" Harry asked. Allan sat quietly but his mind 
also urged, "Yeah, what?"

"Get yourself a girlfriend for next time we come over," 
Beth ordered. Harry beamed across his face.

"You've got yourself a deal, girl," he smiled, giving 
her a high five.


Epilogue


Beth had dozed off cuddled up to Allan as they awaited 
news of the flight delay. Inclement weather in the UK 
had restricted flights and the British Airways flight 
they were booked on had only just left the UK. Allan 
stared at the electronic information board, a trolley 
laden with their cases in front of them. Various tannoy 
messages filled the air yet despite the noise, it was 
still serene in comparison to Gatwick or Heathrow. 

Their holiday was almost over, extended only because of 
gales and heavy rain back in the UK. Allan and Beth had 
spent most of the previous day reflecting on their 
issues, their experiences and their feelings. Once 
again, it had been an emotional and traumatic holiday 
and Allan wondered if it were just the fact they'd gone 
abroad and lost their inhibitions. First Ibiza, now 
Jamaica, where would it end? Maybe next time, they'd do 
Butlins! Maybe not!

Allan remembered how he'd been in the shower yesterday 
morning and how he'd put the radio on and heard some 
strange lyrics in a song about a couple that liked Pina 
Colada's and getting caught in the rain. It dawned on 
him that the reason why he and Beth had evolved the way 
they had was the lack of discussion. He hadn't talked 
to her not Beth to him. Oh, they'd talked but not 
really talked, they'd not discussed the underlying 
issues and worked out the reasons behind their actions 
or inactions.

Beth had confessed to Allan that she'd begun to feel 
unloved, unwanted and unappreciated, that Allan had no 
understanding of her needs and her feelings. She'd told 
Allan that he was all she needed in life, that she was 
still very much in love with him and that she wanted to 
spend the rest of their lives together. But she felt 
Allan was in some way, insecure and she'd been shocked 
by his lack of ability to get to grips with reality.

Allan had been initially hurt by Beth's comments and a 
short argument ensued with Allan on the defensive. He'd 
politely but firmly reminded Beth that she was no angel 
when it came to having reality checks. She'd confused 
reality with fantasy and the consequences were that 
she'd ended up being shafted. Quite literally, too!

Allan had sat in silence as Beth had reminded him that 
the fantasy thing was originally his idea and how on 
most of the occasions she'd been "shafted", there had 
also been some pharmaceutical influence. He knew he'd 
let Beth down big time and he felt guilty and 
irresponsible. And he knew the guilt was based on the 
fact that he, too, was deeply in love with Beth. So why 
was he still behaving in such a manner to inflict 
emotional distress on the poor girl?

Allan had challenged Harry over lunch about the fact 
the picture on the Plasma screen had changed and it 
seemed more than coincidence. Harry had confessed that 
his friend, a large local Jamaican called Wesley had 
seen everything and captured it digitally. Allan had 
been shocked but Beth was relatively cool with the 
idea. Having experienced what she'd experienced over 
the last week or two, nothing could phase her now!

Allan felt confused like he'd walked into a theatre 
half way through a play, not sure of what was happening 
and how it was impacting on the past and the 
consequences in the future. Yet he was in the middle of 
a scene of which he played a principle part.

Allan remembered how they'd talked about things that 
were special to them like the lyrics of the song. He'd 
known Beth for nearly 6 years, been married for more 
than 3 of them and yet he'd learned more in a couple of 
hours than he'd learned in 6 years. He had no idea that 
Beth really loved watching the tide roll into shore or 
the sound of leaves rustling in a gentle summer breeze. 

She'd told him how she'd enjoyed some classic art and 
how the subtle use of colours could help identify not 
just the picture the artist had painted, but also the 
mood he was in and, more importantly, the story behind 
the picture, the motivation for using certain brush 
strokes and how they created the ongoing narrative that 
the uneducated would naturally miss. Allan had sat, 
dumbstruck, as Beth confessed her love of Thai food, 
her preference for German beer and a lifetime ambition 
to swim with dolphins.

Beth had been less than aware of the level of pressure 
Allan had been under at work, the various projects he'd 
been lumbered with had created untold mental pressure 
and had resulted in Allan, being the character he is, 
to protect Beth from it as much as he could. He'd 
contained his feelings, confined them to his own psyche 
yet, somehow and somewhere, they will manifest and 
emerge as something else, something sinister. 

Often it is alcohol or drug dependency, eating 
disorders, obsessive compulsive disorders or 
psychological disturbances. He'd read that regular 
continued exposure to "E" can lead to dementia in later 
years but surely not at his tender age? Beth had 
guessed that his inability (or incapability) to discuss 
his work issues with anyone (it didn't have to be her 
he spoke to) had lead to these pressures building and 
changing format like some perverted transformer toy 
into a need for sexual gratification that involved a 
third party. Beth was no psychologist but she'd guessed 
this may have contributed to he situation and maybe 
Allan had evolved this way as a defence mechanism.

Allan had told Beth that he'd enjoyed all sports as a 
kid, that his dream car of an Aston Martin had been put 
on hold for the time being, stating he'd order it when 
Mystic Meg picked out his lottery numbers. He'd told 
Beth about wanting to go to Kenya and shoot some 
wildlife with a camera, how he'd always wanted to play 
soccer for England and how he'd got so pissed one 
weekend on a trip to Edinburgh that he fell asleep on 
the train home and didn't wake up until the train 
terminated in Bristol,

But beyond the exchanges of wants and likes of a 
material basis, they exchanged views on an emotional 
level. 

They had discovered the mutual feelings of total 
devotion which had struck them both simultaneously as 
Beth had challenged Harry as he fucked her. The love 
Harry and Maria had experienced was identical to the 
love both Allan and Beth enjoyed. Unconditional 
devotion. (With the exception of when Allan farts in 
bed, maybe!)

It was apparent that he and Beth were still totally 
devoted to each other, their love strained but still 
intact and very strong. Beth had spilt tears as Allan 
confessed his ongoing love for her and that, come what 
may, he'd always be there for her, whether she stayed 
or whether she left. Beth told Allan she wanted to be 
with him more than anything else in the world and that 
if the world were to be destroyed in 5 minutes time, 
she'd want to spend every last second by his side. 

Allan had struggled to retain his composure, feeling 
the leak from his lachrymal glands. He was too strong a 
character to weep and he fought back the tears with all 
his might. Beth had, however, seen the emotion within 
him and she'd stroked his hair, whispering sweet things 
and adding further evidence to her undying love.

Allan had wanted to ascertain if Beth really could 
still love him after all he'd put her through and if 
his measly (albeit above the national average) 7 inches 
would ever be able to satisfy her again. 

Beth had almost giggled at this point, trying to point 
out the fact it was him, the person, the friend, the 
confidante, the man she loved that was more important 
than the contents of his Kalvin Kliens. 

She reminded him of the conversation they'd had in 
Ibiza all those months ago when she'd politely but 
firmly told him that size was not as important as 
method and style. For a second, Allan wondered if he'd 
been momentarily switched to an episode of "Strictly 
come dancing" but he held his humour in check. Beth had 
a very valid point and had she craved the bigger man, 
why the hell was she sticking with him. She was 
beautiful, she could have her pick of any guy in the 
world yet she was in love with Allan and she went to 
great measures to point it out. That's why she'd gone 
along with all this role play in the first place.

The tannoy in the airport continued it's non stop 
chatter, the female West Indian announcer sounding 
almost clinical in her announcements. 

Beth stirred and Allan cuddled her closer, his arm 
around her shoulder like a protective shield that would 
ward off any prowlers or potential mates trying to 
steal his bride. Beth was his. And Beth had told him 
she was his "forever" but Allan still felt those pangs 
of guilt. Was it because he was keeping a secret? They 
had no secrets anymore, he'd even given Beth the names 
of the girls he'd been intimate with before they got 
together. She'd told him about the guys at school who'd 
put their hands up her skirt at the cinema. There were 
no secrets anymore. Or were there?

Beth opened her eyes and looked at Allan's profile, 
smiling as she did so. In his arms, all troubles 
disappeared. 

He looked into her smiling eyes and couldn't help 
himself smiling back. God, she was heavenly and he knew 
he was one lucky bastard to have her.

"Are you alright, angel?" he asked.

"Mmm," Beth replied, dreamily. "I could murder a bottle 
of mineral water" she said, her eyes taking on the 
helpless female look she employed like all women do 
when they want their man to do something and they can't 
be arsed themselves. Allan took the hint. He needed to 
use the rest of his local currency anyway.

"Back in a moment" he said, disengaging from her and 
walking off towards the retail units within the 
airport. Beth watched him walk, his cute tight arse 
looked like it was blowing kisses to her as he 
disappeared into the masses who frequented the airport 
lounge. Beth sat up and sighed deeply to herself. What 
should have been a relaxing break had turned into a 
frigging nightmare. 

It had been good to get away from the hustle and bustle 
of the west Midlands and a trip to Jamaica had been 
just the ticket. Rain and storms awaited them back home 
and her thoughts raced back to the morning she'd 
received the invite, how the showers on the window pane 
had sunk her spirits yet the letter had resuscitated 
her, brought her back to life, as it were.

It had surely been an experience. Not quite what she'd 
imagined a few weeks ago but certainly a break she'd 
not forget in a hurry. If nothing else, it had brought 
her and Allan together again, closer than ever before 
mostly because they'd cleared the air and brought 
everything back out into the open.

Everything was hunky dory and back to normal.

For now, anyway...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 49