Journey to Another Life Ch. 10

Just knowing Nikki was in there with the big, black man, offering herself to him, enjoying his size, his blackness, his warmth, was all the fuel he needed to gush his way to satisfaction.

His release, splattered on the deck where it had landed, didn't disturb him in the slightest. In fact, he felt more relaxed than ever—whiskey and orgasms were a good combination, he thought, making a mental note to himself. Quietly, he returned to his and Nikki's cabin.

The old Ed would have read, showered, had more whiskey, and worried about how Nikki would be in the morning. The new and improved Ed grinned inwardly at his acceptance of her insatiable appetite and decided to get some shut-eye before she came back.

Nikki had no idea that blinds blocked the view into the cabin. Her mind wasn't on window treatments.

It was on Charles's broad palms and exploring fingers, his hungry mouth, and of course, his obscenely large cock. It had been such a turn-on to play with him in front of Ed, she could think of nothing that didn't directly affect her pussy.

Even as Charles undressed her in the privacy of the cabin, she recalled the sensation of performing for her husband making out with Charles on the lounge. And yet she wasn't performing in the truest sense of the word because she wanted Charles with an appetite she hadn't experienced since ... well, since ever. Whether he exuded some magnetism she'd never encountered before or their unique chemistry resulted in an attraction beyond anything imaginable, she couldn't be sure. All that was glaringly obvious was that they couldn't keep their hands off each other, especially now that all barriers had been broken by their tryst the night before. What Ed had watched, then, had not been a performance but rather the honest pursuit of seduction by his wife.

Though she'd been nearly blinded by her own desires, she'd felt her husband's as she'd kissed and caressed the captain of their boat. She didn't have to look at his trousers to know there was a bulge inside them, and she didn't have to see his face to know that his cheeks were flushed and his pupils dilated. His arousal multiplied her own, and even now, as Charles devoured her with his voracious mouth, she loved knowing that she'd opened new sexual doors as much for herself as for Ed.

Why did people sneak around in marriage when complicit extra-marital sex was actually more exciting?

As she stood, knees weak, Charles's unnaturally long tongue burrowed between her thighs to tickle her clit. He was surely tasting her cream. Yet she was suddenly struck by a pang of guilt. Should she have invited Ed to watch? No, she assured herself. Not quite yet. Maybe next time. He and Charles might not have been entirely ready tonight. She'd ask when she was sure of his comfort level—and after she had discussed it with Charles.

Her guilt shriveled to nothing under the influence of Charles's persistent lapping between her legs. He was gripping her naked ass cheeks and nuzzling his nose into her pubic hair. Meanwhile, she could barely stand.

"Let me lay down," she whispered, stroking the top of his bald head.

When he withdrew and looked up at her, his eyes were as shiny as his lips. He rose to his full height with the grace of someone half his age, and eyes still gleaming, guided her to his bed.

"I want to eat you, Nikki," he said, kneeling before her once again. His earnest face caught her by surprise. In contrast with his suave, controlled demeanor in his role as cook and captain, this look of dire need took her breath away. His impressive hands rested on her knees, ready to part them to get the access he craved.

She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. She adored any plaintive sexual request but when it came from a man whose body she couldn't get enough of, her excitement knew no boundaries. "By all means," she said quietly. "Eat me until you've had enough."

Gratitude flickered in his eyes just before he lowered them to concentrate on his task. In more narcissistic moments, she would have lain back and surrendered to the sensations. But this moment, with Charles, was different. She wanted to see as well as feel everything he did. Part of the thrill was in observing the contrast of his ebony skin against her paler version. But there was more to it than that. The erotic impact of witnessing a sexual fantasy come to life made her speechless, drove her wild, and compelled her to be more attentive to every precious moment that she was with Charles. She would only have him for a few more days, and that poignant knowledge only added to her lust.

So she leaned back only enough to relax. With her arms stretched out behind her and her hands acting as anchors to support her weight, she watched Charles open her thighs and move in on her juicy pussy. He approached her with a charming kind of reverence, as if what was between her legs was of such incomparable quality that he wasn't worthy of it. He touched the insides of her thighs as if they might break yet firmly pushed them open wide to reveal what he wanted most. When his tongue met her clit, his eyes closed, as if the taste of her was so sublime that his other senses posed an unwelcome distraction from it.

At first, his nose rose over and fell below her pubic mound as he settled into just the right position for enjoying her fully. His eyes remained closed, which she found sweet. He's eating me by Braille, she thought to herself. After he discovered just the right angle—the one that made her moan when he flicked her little button with his tongue—more of his nose disappeared into her bush. His tongue worked harder and faster, weaving its way over folds and puffy places but always returning to the spot that made her gasp.

She rested her ankles on his shoulders, obscuring even more of his face but giving him greater depths to explore. His lips surrounded her clit and sucked gently. She rose upward in a swell of pleasure and slowly came down, like a wave finding the shore. He did it again, but this time, while her hips were slightly raised, he moved to her asshole and rimmed it. She dug the heels of her palms into the mattress and the heels of her feet into his back.

When her orgasm hit, the series of convulsions and tremors continued long past the time she expected them to stop. Just when she thought the last bolt has passed, another chased it. Rather than turn away from him or close her eyes in rapture, she forced herself to keep watching as he insisted on tonguing her into oblivion. The sight of him feasting at her cunt opened a floodgate of orgasms that seemed determined to flow through her, no matter how little strength she had left.

Finally, her shuddering subsided and so did his oral gymnastics. When he came up for air to see how she was doing, a wild, unfocused look in his eye told her that he had no intention of seeing her through a recovery. With her pussy still pulsing, she followed his movements warily.

He stood, and her eyes naturally went to the prodigious length of manhood that pointed toward the cabin ceiling. She wondered if there would ever be a time when his size didn't absolutely stun her.

Charles then bent forward to pick her up by her waist. He held her aloft and she giggled at how out of control she felt, still reeling from her powerful come and now virtually floating in mid air. Her extended legs formed a V around his body and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his strong neck. When he brought his face—which smelled of her pussy—to hers, she crossed one leg and then the other across his back, just above his firm buttocks.

His hands were now free, and the first place they went was under her ass cheeks. His hands were so large that they practically covered the expanse of each cheek, providing quite a comfortable seat for her. The idea, though, was not to give comfort but to maneuver her to best advantage. She relaxed her grip around his waist and was rewarded with his thick meat steadily inching its way up her hole. Although she was upright, she had no control over how often and how deeply he entered her.

She'd never been wetter.

He determined how fast to impale her. He decided how long each thrust would keep him inside. The angle and penetration only emphasized his enormous girth, stretching her tight pussy to maximum capacity. Even all her natural lubrication couldn't ease the tremendous cleaving she felt every time he drove himself into her. He pushed upward as he lowered her, and she felt as though he might rupture some internal organ of hers, but the mind-bending pleasure was so intense, she didn't care.

It seemed unimaginable that she could slip into another wave of orgasms. Bodies weren't meant to withstand that much intensity, were they? Yet when his mouth met her nipple and sucked it while his cock drilled her mercilessly, when she had no choice but to take everything he rammed up inside her, no matter how much the pain blurred with the delight, her pussy walls quivered to announce a new barrage of body quakes.

Along with her own shouts, though, were his cries. Because he'd spread her inner membranes so thin, she felt his hot jizz fill her, coat her, and slowly ooze out of her.

Nothing seemed to tire him. When her limbs and neck did imitations of a rag doll, he opened his bright eyes to sear into hers, as if to ask, What should we do next?

But his enthusiasm was quickly replaced by concern as he noticed how her eyes had glazed over and her muscles no longer obeyed her. He gently lifted her high enough to pop his cock out of her pussy, then, still carrying her with his hands under her ass cheeks, set her down on the bed. She had trouble focusing and was appalled to realize that the words in her brain couldn't be coaxed out of her mouth.

"It's okay, baby," Charles cooed to her as he lay down next to her. "You're going to be okay."

She knew she would be, and didn't mind that she was so discombobulated now. It felt good to have his protective body so close to hers. She fell asleep satisfied to her core.

When Ed awoke, it was to the sunlight streaming into the cabin. He'd slept so soundly, he missed the sunrise.

The alarm clock said it was 8:35 a.m. He looked over at the other side of the bed. The sheets showed no signs of rumpling, which either meant she hadn't come in at all lie she had yesterday or that she had come in but had gotten up early. Knowing that the latter was about as likely as fish leaping onto the boat in hopes of being eaten for dinner, he deduced that she'd spent the entire night with Charles ... again.

And this eventuality did not upset him, he noted with no small amount of pride and relief.

Yet, just to satisfy his curiosity, he slipped into his robe and checked things out on deck. The glasses from the previous night sat where he, Nikki, and Charles had left them, which meant that Charles, too, was still asleep.

Asleep or fucking, he reminded himself.

Either way, if Nikki was happy, that was all that mattered. He certainly wasn't going to pound on the door to of the cabin and demand that his wife be returned or that Charles get out. Nor was he going to obsess about what was going on behind that door. It didn't matter. He'd sanctioned their night together and had no right to question what they did with it. Anyway, the level of trust between him and Nikki had grown to new levels as a result of this so-called experiment—he no longer feared the loss of her love, or perceived Charles as a threat to their relationship. He understood at last what Charles was to Nikki and wanted only that she enjoy the man to the fullest.

Ed went to the galley and poured himself a glass of juice. As he sat enjoying the morning sun, he glanced at the deck hatch above Charles's cabin and noticed that the blinds still blocked any view of the place. Just as he resigned himself to waiting for her to emerge, he spied another hatch he hadn't noticed in last night's darkness. He downed the last of his juice and made his way over to it. The hatch overlooked the master cabin's bathroom, which was empty, but as Ed peered inside, he noticed that the foot of Charles's bed could be seen. And it was there that he saw a pair of large black feet and a pair of feminine white ones entwined and unmoving.

She intended to sleep with Charles last night the whole time or had it just naturally happened? He felt a fleeting stab of hurt as he pictured her nestled in the big black man's arms overnight. He would have preferred her to sleep with her husband, but realized that his preference was as much the result of social conditioning as it was a desire for her presence. After all, hadn't he slept marvelously well last night, in spite of her absence? Wanting her in his bed was undoubtedly just an ego trip, he decided. He needed to get over it.

Still, though, didn't it hint at an intimacy that society led him to believe shouldn't exist between his wife and the another man. Even a lover? No, he decided. They'd probably just had so much sex that it only made sense to fall asleep where it had happened.

He calmed himself further by watching the waves for a little while, then decided to take a shower in the cabin. Maybe by the time he was finished, the couple would have emerged from their love nest. On his way to that shower, he took a final glance into the bathroom.

Nikki was up and preparing to take her own shower. She stood naked, hand on the shower controls. As she waited for the stream of water to reach the right temperature, Charles entered, huge dick swaying with every step. He stood at the toilet, and paused when Nikki said something to him. She smiled and Ed recognized that smile—she'd said something flirtatious or naughty to Charles, who still hesitated. Nikki laughed and stepped into the shower. Just when Charles thought she was safely inside, she reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the shower's entrance.

Ed could see them both quite clearly from his elevated station. Nikki got to her knees and began to fondle and kiss the tip of Charles's semi-erect, enormous cock. She looked up at Charles, a Cheshire cat grin on her face. Ed heard the blood rushing through his veins and felt his breathing grow shallow. What was she going to do? From the look on her face, it was going to be more than a blow job.

She said something to Charles. At the first signs of Charles's stream of piss, she opened her mouth then closed it around his gargantuan cock. Her eyes never left his, even as she milked his dick.

Ed steadied himself against the nearest wall. Yes, he'd seen her accept piss before—that night in St. Martin—but this was different somehow. Had she actually swallowed the stuff the two young men gave her? He didn't know. Certainly she hadn't sucked them dry like she was doing to Charles. Ed's cock pulsed faster than his heart as he watched her mouth struggle to contain both the fluid and the girth Charles provided. She kept staring at Charles with the strangest expression on her face. It seemed to say I will take whatever you shoot down my throat. Please give me more. Push me to my limits.

Finally, Charles seemed to have emptied his bladder and Nikki pulled her mouth off his dick. She then turned to the shower stream and let it fill her mouth several times while she swallowed in between. In a theatrical flourish, she licked the remaining drops from Charles's fat cock as he caressed her wet head.

While she was on her knees, she gave him a stupendous blow job, one that pushed Charles to orgasm in less than a minute. Little wonder, Ed thought, after that irresistible opening act.

She swallowed that, too.

When she got to her feet and pulled Charles completely into the shower with her, Ed turned away, but not before he noticed the irregular puddle of cum near his feet.

He hadn't even been aware that he'd been jerking off.

So she hadn't rid herself of her dirty slut fantasies, after all.

What he'd just witnessed wasn't the behavior of a normal women's sex drive . It was, without question, the unbridled passion of a slutty woman in lust.

The vivid images of Nikki drinking the various fluids of the big black man made Ed feel suddenly restless and more than a little unclean. He needed a shower of his own—but his would be one hundred percent water.

As he pulled himself away from the lure of the bathroom deck hatch, he heard one of her infectious giggles rise up and he thought about peeking in once again. But why? To see another image to burn into his brain? Another obscene frame in Nikki's ongoing film of sluthood?

The distance to his his guest cabin from the deck wasn't far but the walk seemed endless. What had happened to his laissez-faire attitude? He frowned. It was much easier to imagine one's wife with another man than it was to see her behaving like a two-bit whore with one.

But he'd seen it before, he reminded himself. He'd seen her do unspeakable things with the two young men on the island.

And she said she'd never do it again. She said she'd felt cheap and that the sex had been empty and unfulfilling. Yet, here she was acting every bit the slut with Charles—the very man with whom she thought she might be "romantic."

Women. Did they ever know what they wanted?

As he unlocked his cabin door at last, he realized the flaw in his castigations of Nikki. He was judging her. What gave him that right? She'd been open and honest enough to include him on the idea of a shipboard fling with Charles. She could have snuck around behind his back but she hadn't. And she hadn't because she knew the idea turned him on, too.

He ran the water for his shower, waiting for it to get hot enough to make him feel clean. Why was he judging her when he'd given express permission for her to do as she pleased with Charles?

As he stepped into the welcome spray, he instantly knew the answer: he just hadn't expected her to enjoy Charles so damn much that she would spend the night with him and drink his piss.

His expectations could not be part of the equation, he told himself. His role was only to let Nikki have the adventures she wanted. He was also free to enjoy her adventures, directly or indirectly. Obviously, the puddle of jizz he'd left on deck served as evidence of his enjoyment. So what was his problem?

The soothing shower and bracing soap scent helped him focus. His problem was nothing that time and a few more episodes wouldn't cure. He wasn't angry with Nikki, nor was he disgusted with himself; proof positive that the inclusion of Charles in their love life was not a mistake. He tried to remind himself how devastating all of this would have been for him only a month ago. He'd made enormous strides since then. He knew that change was rarely easy or smooth, and he knew that both he and Nikki had never felt so sexually charged as they had on their honeymoon. And it was not due to some romantic notions about sequestered lovebirds. It was because he was giving Nikki the sexual freedom she needed—and the erotic stimulation he'd always craved.

In a better frame of mind, he stepped out of the bathroom and into the cabin to find Nikki standing there.

"Good morning, darling," she said, smiling the smile that dared anyone to resist it.

He was so happy to see her, so happy to have her back in their cabin. Yet, he fought the urge to sweep her up in his arms and rain kisses on her. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and replied, "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I sure did. Oh, Ed, it was really wonderful," she said, plopping herself down on the bed like an excited child. "I'm dying to tell you about it." Her eyes shone and there was unmistakable color in her cheeks.

A strange pause descended into which he was supposed to interject his ardent desire to hear every word. But he was silent, so she filled in the silence.

"Unless you don't want to know what naughty things your sexy wife's been getting up to with her sexy black friend," she said with a mischievous grin.