tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBeach Bubble Butts

Beach Bubble Butts

byTheTalkMan©

(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. Also, I would like to thank my biggest fan for his help coming up with the idea and preparing this story. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)

(Brent)

It was meant to be a simple beach weekend. Honest. It wasn't like I wanted to check out girls in skimpy bikinis. It was just meant to be a relaxing beach weekend. It got hot around here earlier than normal, just in time for spring break. The high school and college kids were out of school for the week, eager to let loose. People were starting to spend most of their time outside and enjoying the warm weather. And my wife and I were eager to join in the fun. We were both in our early thirties, me 32 and her 35. My name is Brent, and my wife is Sherry. Neither of us had as much free time as we used to. Our high school and college days were long gone. We were both getting slammed at work, and we needed a break. That's why we agreed we needed to get away.

We lived about three or four hours from the beach, so it wasn't like we had the option to go to there whenever we wanted to. We had to make time for it. Sherry set up the hotel room and everything so we were set to have a nice long weekend at the beach.

I worked in an office, in a cubicle. It wasn't the most glamorous or fun job but it paid the bills. It wasn't where I imagined myself being when I was younger, but we all had to grow up some time. I always imagined myself living the high life. Fancy cars, big house, lots of money. As I grew up, I realized that stuff was not feasible. It was craziness. Sure, it would be nice to be rich. But it wasn't necessary to have that stuff and live the good life.

I had been a bit of a dog in my early years. As soon as I hit high school, and I realized that girls were into me, I leapt at the chance to get some pussy. I never struggled to get women. I was handsome enough to have some of the sluttier girls basically throw themselves at me, and I didn't have the self-control to say no. This continued through my college years. I was one of those assholes you know in college that only cared about going to parties and getting girls. I was a smart guy, but my grades were slumping. It was easy to explain why; I never went to my classes. I was too busy locked in my dorm room pounding some college pussy to care about class.

It wasn't until I graduated that I started to realize the error of my ways. I was sharing a crappy apartment with this girl I was with. Neither of us were working. We spent all of our free time fucking. This was fun, obviously, but after awhile I needed something more. I wanted to live a better life. I wanted to be able to buy things. Sure, having sex a lot was great but it was almost too good for me. I enjoyed it too much. If I didn't exert some self-control, sex would be my destruction.

I cleaned up my act, grew up, and got on the straight and narrow. I got a job and tried to get my life on the right track. I avoided the company of women for a long time. I didn't need the temptation at that point. Sex was a drug to me, and I was a recovering addict.

I knew I couldn't avoid the company of women forever. I had gotten myself settled professionally and financially. I knew the next step for me was to find a wife and get married. I knew that I'd have to be able to have a relationship with a girl that wasn't primarily spent in the bedroom. A mature, grown-up relationship. I was looking for wife material.

It didn't take long for me to find her. I had been dragged to an art gallery by some co-workers. It was there that I met Sherry. She worked there, and she was showing us around. Despite my growth as a person, I was still a shameless flirt. I turned on the charm. She seemed flattered by my attention, even though she wasn't exactly my type. She was a few pounds heavier than most girls I had typically dated, but the girls I had typically dated had nearly led me into ruin. She was definitely cute, though. I had no deeper intentions than just casual flirting, so I was surprised when she slipped her number to me when I was leaving. My buddies teased me about this. Originally, I had no intention to call her, but as I thought more and more about it, I decided, 'what the hell' let's give it a shot.

I enjoyed our first date quite a bit. She was very different than the other girls I had dated. While most of the girls I went out with were very outwardly sexual, Sherry was different. She was a classy, professional woman, and she was fun to be around. She was without question the friendliest girl I ever dated. I had never felt as good about myself as I did when I was with her. She brought out the best in me. I had never had more fun on a date. It was our first date, but it would not be our last.

Sherry was the first girl I had sex with after my self-imposed exile. With her, the sex was different. It was closer to making love than anything I had ever experienced. I wasn't having sex with her because I wanted her body. I was having sex with her because I liked her as a person. She didn't know anything about the girls I used to date. And I intended to keep it that way. I didn't want her to feel inadequate in any way.

I will admit that the sex with her was not as fun as the sex I used to have. The girls I used to go out with were nastier than Sherry ever was. Plus, the girls I used to date were usually of a certain type. You know the big tits, perfect asses, fit belly, and gorgeous face kinda type. While Sherry was pretty, she was not that type of girl. She was thicker than the girls I used to date, but not in the good places. Her tits were only B-cups, and her butt was a bit too big for my liking. But, those girls never made me this happy. I knew I had to grow up. I had to move on from that horn-dog I used to be. I had to stop making sex such a huge sticking point. I knew to be in a healthy, adult relationship, I would have to accept sex that was not as good in exchange for the happiness she brought me.

We have been married for three years. Things had been going great. Sure there were some things I would prefer to be different. I wish she was a little wilder and more spontaneous. At times I found myself bored at the day-to-day repetitiveness of our marriage and work, and wished that things would get more exciting, but I knew I had to be an adult and stop yearning for the wild days of my youth.

I think Sherry had an ulterior motive for bringing me here. We had been trying to conceive for about a year now, but we had had no success. We had both been very busy, and we had not been able to relax enough to focus on trying to make a baby. I think she was hoping that we could make it happen this weekend.

The beach-town we were staying at was pretty small. But even though it was small, it was busy. It was a popular destination for tourists and beach-goers alike. The town came alive during this time of the year. Sherry loved coming here. It was busy enough to not be boring, but small enough to have character. She loved the charm of the town and she loved stopping at all the little shops downtown.

We had dropped off our stuff at the hotel and we were walking downtown, getting the shopping out of the way before hitting the beach. I had my hand around her shoulders as we walked. She was more interested in shopping then I was, so I just stood by her like a good husband. She was dressed in her pre-beach wear; a tank-top, shorts, and flip flops. I was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with my trunks underneath my shorts. Sherry had told me she was eager to get some sun. She usually had a pale complexion, and the winter months hadn't helped darken her. She was hoping to get a good tan, even though, typically she burned more than she tanned. She was a pale-skinned redhead. Genetics were working against her.

Sherry was window shopping as I took in the scenery and the warm air. It was going to be a really hot day. It was still early, but I knew it would be sweltering. It was when Sherry noticed some jewelry in the window that my eyes caught sight of something else.

She was walking towards me. She was the type of girl that drew your attention. She was wearing denim short-shorts, exposing her long tan legs, which led down to a pair of stylish flip flops. The shorts hugged her thin, fit waist. I looked at her exposed belly, so flat, with her cute belly-button exposed. She was wearing a tight blue tank top, which hugged her body generously. It hugged two specific parts of her generously, namely her giant rack. Those suckers looked huge on her otherwise tiny frame. I looked up at her face, and it held up its end up of the bargain. This girl was flat out gorgeous. A perfect tanned face, full lips, just a great looking girl. And she was a girl. She was surprisingly young looking, for someone with such a well-developed body. She was really young looking. If I had to guess, I would say she was about 18. She had curly, black hair, which ran past her shoulders. She was wearing big sunglasses, but her eyes were visible above it. She was also talking on her phone. I couldn't help but notice her roll her eyes as she walked by people on the street as if she was annoyed by their mere presence. As if they didn't belong anywhere near her. I could tell immediately that this girl was a spoiled brat. As she got closer to me, I couldn't help but glance down. Her breasts jiggled as she walked.

I had had my moments since becoming a changed man, but damn, this girl was pushing all the right buttons in me. This girl was the type of girl I used to bang in high school and college. Gorgeous face. Big tits. And that spoiled attitude of hers. I don't know why that always did it for me, but entitled, spoiled brats just drove me wild. She even had the walk down. That slut-walk that those girls have. If the 18-year-old-me saw this girl, he would take her to a hotel room and fuck the shit out of her. Luckily, that guy is gone.

I couldn't help but watch her as this girl got closer. She was talking on her cell phone bitchily as she walked. I noticed that there was a girl walking alongside her. She was a slightly more demure girl, possibly Latina, with brunette hair. She was not as curvy as the girl she was next to, but she was not so bad herself. She was a smaller, Latina, quiet version of the girl next to her.

I was about to look away from her when I noticed the black-haired girl's eyes over her sunglasses, staring right at me. My eyes met hers. I watched as her eyes scanned me, giving me the up and down. She looked back into my eyes and smirked. Her and her friend walked by me. I checked to make sure Sherry was still distracted. She was, so I was able to turn and watch the black-haired girl walk away. Damn! What an ass that girl has! Her booty shorts were molded to it, and she knows how to shake it. It looks so round, and bouncy. The old me would have grabbed a handful of that ass, damn the consequences. She looked like the type of girl that would welcome that kind of forward action by a good looking guy. As I admired her firm ass, I looked up to notice she had glanced back, meeting my eyes, knowing what I had been staring at.

"God that looks nice." Sherry asked.

"Yeah." I mumbled.

"You should get it." Sherry said.

"Yeah." I agreed. I shook my head. What is she saying!? "Wait, what?" I asked. I turned to look at her. She was admiring a necklace in the window.

"This necklace. You should get it for me." she said. I looked down at the price tag.

"I don't think so." I said, laughing. The necklace was well out of our price range, and she knew that.

"Oh, c'mon." she said, laughing. We resumed walking, her eyes still scanning the windows. Despite myself, I found myself scanning forward, in hopes of catching another glance at that beautiful creature I saw earlier. No luck. That was definitely for the best. Like I said, I had had my moments since becoming a changed man. I always had a good sense about looking at a girl and knowing how far she would go sexually. And that girl I saw, she would be down for anything.

I had to stop thinking like this. This was sounding dangerously close to the old me. The old me would obsess over that girl's chest. Those massive, round boobs. They looked so huge on her small frame. They were easily DD's, probably bigger. The old me would not be able to think about anything else but that girl's bouncy ass. But she was so young. Guys over 30 shouldn't be thinking about girls in their late teens. Plus, you know, I was married now.

We finally made our way to the beach about an hour later. It was pretty busy, but we were able to find an open spot to set down our stuff. I took my shorts and my shirt off, only leaving my board shorts on. Sherry took off her shorts and her top, revealing her one-piece. Sherry had always been sensitive about her weight, so she hated exposing her belly even though I assured her it was fine. Her suit, even though it was a one-piece, was fancy looking, as opposed to the drab one-piece suits a lot of girls will wear.

Sherry helped me put suntan lotion on my back after I had spread it everywhere else. She was able to coat herself with the lotion on her limbs and face and she asked me to do her back. She sat in front of me as I started to coat her shoulders and back with lotion. Her face was down, allowing maximum exposure of the back of her neck, her red hair over her shoulders.

I started to spread the lotion across her shoulders. As I did, she started to speak.

"I talked to Jan at work. She's having a barbeque at her place next weekend. I'm thinking we can go." Sherry said.

"Sounds good." I replied.

"It was funny, because we were talking at work, and..." she started. The rest of the words faded in the background as I looked down the beach.

There she was. The black haired girl I saw earlier. She was a vision in a hot pink bikini. She was walking down the beach with her friend. There was no one piece bikini bullshit with her. That wouldn't be her style. No, her style leaned towards the skimpy. Two piece bikinis, as skimpy as she could get away with, and as skimpy as necessary to show off her body. And she was showing it off.

It would be hard not to notice her. Not only because the hot pink color of her bikini made her easy to spot from a distance. It would be hard not to notice her jutting tits. They were bigger than I thought. They were easily EE-cups. My years of hanging out with slutty girls made me a bit of an expert at spotting a girl's cup size. And when you hang out with slutty girls, you usually gain experience at knowing larger cup sizes. And now, finally getting a good look, I could tell their real size for sure. What really emphasized them was her petite frame. She was so young and had a small frame that it made her huge, jutting breasts more noticeable. She was truly blessed to be so well developed. Her bikini top consisted of two thin patches which covered the nipples and the surrounding area, leaving the outsides of her breasts exposed while proudly displaying her naturally formed, deep, dark valley of excellent cleavage.

Her bikini bottoms were the booty shorts style. Teeny, tiny booty shorts. She turned to talk to her friend, and as she did, I was able to take in the back of her. The shorts molded to her ass, making it easy to see her two round ass cheeks packed in there, bursting to be free. The shorts were so skimpy the bottom halves of her ass-cheeks were just hanging out, exposed to the world. Exposed to my leering eyes. And above her ass was a tramp stamp. Of course a girl like her would have a tramp stamp.

She turned back around and continued to walk. Her body was shiny, either from sweat, water, or oil. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it made her look spectacular. She was tan all over with no visible tan-lines. Her black hair hung down, complimenting her overall look well. She had removed her sunglasses, exposing her dark, striking eyes.

She was the type of girl that was so striking and so beautiful that men were probably scared to approach her. Most men didn't think they would have a chance. She was obviously looking for sex. Dressed like that and just watching how she walked, she knew she was driving every man around her wild. She wouldn't want one of those scared young guys coming after her. She wanted a man, a confident man to approach her. She was looking for a real man to sate her hunger.

I glanced at her friend and realized again she wasn't so bad herself. Her bikini was more decent than her friend's, a dark brown two-piece bikini with fancy designs on them. She was very pretty, but she still appeared much more reserved and shy than her friend. She didn't have the swagger that her slut friend did. Nor did she have the chest her friend did. Her breasts were nothing to sneeze at, probably either large C cups or small D-cups. But they were not as spectacular as her girl-friend's massive rack.

I had to stop thinking like this. I had to stop looking at this little slut and her hot body. I just couldn't stop thinking about what the old me would have done. The old me would have marched down the beach, struck up a conversation with her, and charmed those booty-shorts off of her. I would have convinced her to take a walk down the beach, find a nice secluded spot, and have her show me the goods. She would have no qualms about parading her body in front of me. She would probably act all coy and innocent, but it would only be a matter of time until we were rutting on the sand. I would be on top of her, driving into her, making that bitch moan. Well, that's what would have happened. Luckily, I'm not that man anymore.

"I think you're done." Sherry said.

"What?" I replied.

"I think I have plenty of sun block." my wife said. She lifted her head up and sat back on her hands, scanning the beach. I looked out into the ocean for a few moments before I was interrupted by Sherry.

"Eww." Sherry said.

"What?" I asked, looking for the source of her displeasure.

"Look at that girl over in the pink." she said, pointing over at the black haired girl. I couldn't get away from her! "I hate those girls that use the beach as an excuse to slut it up in front of everyone. It's gross. Look at those inflated tits. Clearly fake. Her daddy probably bought them for her. What a slut!"

I glanced over at my wife knowingly. It was cute to see her jealous. Jealous of that little slut's very mature body. Like I said earlier, I was an expert with women's breasts. And those monsters that girl was carrying around were all natural. And she knew how to carry them around.

Sherry looked over at me and drew me into a conversation, pulling my attention away from that girl. I think she didn't want me looking at her. I couldn't blame her. Most women would look inadequate next to that girl. Not that my wife is inadequate but few women have such an incredible body as this girl.

I started to wonder if my wife knew about my past. I never told her about that part of my life, obviously, but I was still friends with the same people as I was back then. I wondered if any of them had let my secret slip. I wonder if she suspected that I had been eying up this slut since we got here.

My wife and I finally started to relax. Sherry laid back and began to read her book, and I just sat back and attempted to tan. As I closed my eyes, all I could imagine in my mind's eye was that girl. I tried to justify these thoughts. She was a gorgeous creature. It was a natural reaction for any man. Even though I was a changed man, I was still a man.

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