The Paper Slip

"I wasn't expecting it to still be this hot and humid."

"Me neither."

My wife, Liz, and I sat on the warm sand, our fingers loosely intertwined, and stared out at the sea. Over the roar of crashing surf, the air was filled with the sound of joyful screams, laughter and splashing water. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon but the beach was still quite crowded. I watched as three giggling college girls sauntered down to the water for one last dip before nightfall. Their youthful, slim bodies seemed to be composed only of curves, like question marks, and my eyes helplessly searched for answers in their every swaying step. Tiny thong bikini bottoms hugged tightly to their hips but, to my wonderment, the matching bikini tops had been discarded, the unfettered bare breasts of all three girls bouncing delightfully. My wife caught my gaze and gave my hand a squeeze.

"Welcome to South Beach, Sweetheart."

I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. You can hardly blame a guy for looking."

"It's okay. As long as I'm allowed to look too." I followed her gaze. Twenty feet down the beach, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a Speedo was reclining in a beach chair. His body was lean and muscular, like that of a trained athlete, and his bronzed skin glistened in the failing sun. He looked like he could be a fashion model, something that I realized wasn't entirely impossible here in the heart of Glitter Beach. Liz licked her upper lip slowly as her eyes fell on the large bulge in his trunks. "Those aren't leaving much to the imagination, are they?"

"I can't take you anywhere." I said in a voice of mock disapproval.

Liz turned back to me and grinned slyly. "What? Why not? Because all these dirty thoughts enter my mind when I look at a beautiful half-naked man?" Liz leaned in closer, her hand sliding discretely over my crotch, my cock stirring under her touch. "Or because all sorts of dirty thoughts enter your mind when I look at a beautiful, half-naked man?"

Liz arched her eyebrow and glanced down casually at my body, tapping her finger lightly against her chin as if she were deep in thought. "I wonder how you'd look in a Speedo? Maybe we should get you one so I can make an educated comparison. I bet you'd look sexy." Liz glanced from me back to the lounging model, as if imagining how my body might stack up.

"Yeah, I have a feeling I'd be the loser in that contest. I do my best to stay in shape, but come on — that guy must spend a couple hours in the gym every day. But then again, maybe I should just quit my job and spend my days working out? I'll get ripped abs and you can be the bread winner in the family."

Liz giggle and pinched my thigh. "But then you wouldn't make all that wonderful money and we wouldn't be here on vacation. No, I think I prefer you the way you are." She paused and leaned closer to me, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Clearly you'll just have to let me invite him over to the hotel room so I can play with him for a few hours. Then I'll have the best of both worlds." Liz giggled and kissed me on the cheek, giving my earlobe a lick for good measure.

My mind filled with the image of Liz and the statuesque fashion model entangled in the sheets of our hotel room bed, their bodies flushed and glistening with sweat. I felt ashamed for it, but the thought of Liz eagerly spreading her thighs for this young, athletic stud made my cock grow hard.

"Oh? And what would I get out of that?"

Liz laughed. "Hmm... I suppose you'd get to watch."

"Like I said, I can't take you anywhere." I poked Liz in the side. "If you're done ogling the locals, do you want to stick your feet in the water?"

Liz nodded. We had caught a late flight down to Miami and in our hurry to see some of the beach before nightfall, neither of us had thought to change. Our swimsuits and towels were back at the hotel. I pulled off my tennis shoes and stuffed my socks inside, rolled up the legs of my jeans, stood, and offered my hand to Liz. She pushed her small hand into mine and I lifted her up off the sand. Liz wore a light sundress and sandals, with a pair of fashionably large, squared-off sunglasses pushed up into her long, brown, curly hair. We strode down to the water together, taking in all the beautiful people that frolicked in the surf.

As we approached, a wave broke on the shore and washed up over our feet and ankles. It was surprisingly warm. Bath water warm. I leaned down and gave Liz a kiss, pulling her close. She smiled.

"This place is incredible."

"I know."

"I have to go for a swim."

"We'll be back tomorrow."

"No, now." I looked at my wife and saw that mischievous twinkle return to her eyes. She handed me her sandals and purse.

"Now? When did you have time to put on your suit?"

"Who says I did?" Liz pulled her dress up over the top of her head and handed it to me.

"Wow."

"What? I'm wearing more than they are." Liz giggled, nodding to the college girls I'd been admiring earlier. Save for a small pair of low-cut, pink cotton panties that stretched tightly across her round, bubble-shaped ass, Liz was completely naked. She glanced quickly down at her exposed breasts before giving me a meaningful smile, her fingers absentmindedly sliding over the edges of her panties, smoothing out the fabric.

"You have a point." I ran my eyes over my wife's lean, twenty-nine year old body, marveling at how her nipples quickly hardened as a soft breeze kicked-up off the ocean. Her skin was still pale from the long winter but I knew that would quickly change over the next few days. "I know we'd discussed it, but I guess I just didn't expect you to rip your top off so fast."

"Sorry. Are you afraid someone might recognize me?" Liz laughed and pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, her raised arms partially hiding her ample, C-cup breasts. She struck a pose, as if she were a movie star hiding out from the paparazzi. "There! I'm incognito."

"Hey, I'm not complaining."

"You shouldn't be. Your smoking hot wife is standing in front of you — practically naked -- on a public beach and proudly showing off her amazing rack." Liz emphasized the point by sliding her arms up behind her head and brushing her fingers through her hair. Her breasts pushed out from her chest as she arched her back. Liz loved to tease. "You, sir, are a lucky man."

"That I am." I grinned, eying Liz's panties and wondering just how transparent they would become when they hit the water. "You know, I'd join you, but I don't think that it works the same for guys. I don't want to be known for the rest of our trip as the creepy guy who went for a swim in his underwear."

"Mmm. You don't mind waiting for me then, do you?"

"Not at all." I said, my wife's brash behavior arousing me. "We're on vacation. We don't have anywhere we have to be."

"It's so beautiful here. Wanna take my picture?" Liz took several steps back into the surf, squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips as I pulled the camera from her purse. She gave me a big smile as I concentrated on the LCD screen and focused the lens. There is a reason why dusk is known as The Magic Hour — Liz looked gorgeous in the soft light, the milky complexion of her skin illuminated by the fiery glow of the setting sun. As I pressed the shutter, Liz moved her hands up to brush back her hair, her expression turning from innocently joyful to coyly provocative. She was clearly enjoying the attention of the camera and she seemed to have no qualms about me photographing her almost nude body in such a public setting. Following her lead, I took several more photos, Liz quickly running through the various poses and moods of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, the final shot finding her on her hands and knees in the surf.

"Very nice. You could be a professional."

"No one would hire me — I'm too short." Liz pouted, brushing the sand from her knees.

"I doubt anyone would notice... your height." I said, glancing meaningfully at her chest.

"Yeah? You think they might make an exception?" Liz asked, grinning. She folded her arms under her breasts, pushing them together enticingly. I nodded my head in dumbfounded awe.

Liz giggled and winked and turned to wade out into the surf while I walked back onto the dry sand and took a seat. A quick glance up and down the beach told me that I wasn't the only one watching Liz play in the waves. Just about every man there seemed to be looking her direction. I'll admit to initially feeling possessive, resenting their lecherous stares, but that quickly transformed into arousal, as Liz made it clear that she was aware that she was putting on a show. She giggled and screamed as waves crashed into her body, staying in the shallows so that her breasts remained on display. Liz has always been an outrageous flirt and exhibitionist, and she obviously was finding the attention from being topless in public extremely erotic.

The current gradually pushed Liz down the coast and she soon found herself floating near the three college girls. It didn't take long before she'd engaged them in conversation. Liz was like that — she couldn't get in line at the supermarket without befriending the person in front of her. The four girls talked excitedly and, at one point, she motioned towards me and the four of them waved and giggled. I waved back. It was frustrating to be stuck on the beach, and I longed to be out there in the water myself. I imagined myself floating next to Liz, being introduced to the girls as her husband and engaging in polite conversation while discreetly admiring their young, beautiful bodies.

Alas, I wasn't the only one to have such a thought. Several men were conspicuously in the water near the girls, but it was the man in the Speedo that Liz had been admiring earlier that approached the group. I watched nervously. The man's charm appeared to match his looks and the girls seemed happy to have him join their little group. Soon the five of them were talking and laughing, although I couldn't help but think that the man seemed particularly interested in Liz.

Before I knew it, my mind had strayed from the three girls Liz had befriended and I once again found myself imagining what it would be like to watch Liz fuck the man in the Speedo. Sure, Liz and I occasionally fantasized about bringing a stranger into our bed — but what would it really be like? Would she enjoy sex with him more than with me? Would his large cock bring Liz as much pleasure as the oversized dildo she kept inside her nightstand back home? I mean, I had never failed to bring Liz to a shuddering climax when we made love, but it would have been naive for me to believe that she wouldn't have relished the opportunity to be taken by a man whose body looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo and had been endowed with the cock of Ron Jeremy.

If I was completely honest with myself, there was a part of me that wanted to watch Liz fuck the man in the Speedo. I wanted to watch her lose control in his arms, listen to her moan in ecstasy and beg for more. In fact, as strange as it may sound, that may have been the part that turned me on the most — the possibility that, in her heightened state of arousal, she might admit that he was able to satisfy her in ways that I never had. That she might praise his stamina and prowess and teasingly comparing the size of my fairly average 6-inch cock to the massive python hanging between his legs — as she sometimes playfully did with her large dildo back home. But what sort of man wants to see his wife in the arms of another? To not only share her body but to be himself found inadequate? Where did these feelings coming from and why did I find them so powerfully erotic?

As I sat watching on the beach, a wave crashed down on the group and when they came back into view a few moments later, I saw the man's hands encircling my wife's waist, as if to steady her. My heart skipped a beat. Liz grinned, her almost naked body pushed close to his by the tide, her hands falling onto his chest. The two of them continued to chat in that state of semi-embrace for several minutes until the man appeared to say something off-color and Liz laughed and flashed her left hand at him. I assume that she was reminding him that she was a married woman but at that point I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. Liz tried to wriggle free from the man's grasp and, as response to her rejection, the man tossed Liz into the air and she giggled with delight, landing in the ocean with a splash.

One of the three college girls, a blonde close to Liz in height and build, playfully scolded the man for throwing Liz. She splashed water at him and it wasn't long before she was caught up in his arms, her expression one of mock indigence. The other two college girls stepped in to help their friend, all of them clearly enjoying the man's attention. I was sure that it would take little effort on the man's part to find a companion for his bed that evening if he so wished. Liz seemed content to watch, cheering on the girls when they managed to dunk the man in the water.

The five of them stayed out in the ocean until the sun slid below the city skyline behind us, finally coming to shore as dusk turned to night. The temperature still hovered close to ninety degrees. A part of me had secretly hoped that Liz might find her way back into the arms of the man in the Speedo, but nothing further seemed to happen in the water between them.

Liz walked up the beach towards me, her arms behind her head, her hands wringing the water out of her hair. I grinned at her as she approached, admiring her incredible body. Liz stopped and turned suddenly as the man in the Speedo called out to her. I watched as he ran up to her, reaching out to touch her on the shoulder as he began to speak. My mouth went dry as Liz stood there before the tall, muscular man, the wet Speedo hugging his crotch. I felt a powerful mixture of jealousy and arousal course through my body. It didn't help matters that Liz's freshly waxed pussy was now clearly visible through the thin, wet fabric of her panties. Seeing the two of them stand so close to one another, their bodies almost completely unclothed, seemed profoundly intimate. The man's eyes roved Liz's body as he spoke, but she didn't seem to mind. Her own eyes dropped once or twice to the semi-hardened cock that was barely contained in the man's tight swim trunks. As they parted, the man grinned, took Liz's hand as if to shake it and leaned down to kiss her on both cheeks. Liz blushed.

Liz swaggered up to me, a playful grin on her face. "Howdy." She giggle and bit her lip as she leaned over next to me to pick up her dress.

"You apparently had fun."

"Sorry." Liz held her dress demurely in front of her body as her skin dried. "Can I help it if you're married to the hottest girl on this beach?"

I tried to shrug off the exchange she had just had with the man in the Speedo, as if it hadn't mattered much to me. In truth, my stomach was in knots. "Hey, I enjoyed the show. If this is day one, I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow. I hope the girls come back." I glanced down the beach, watching them pack-up their belongings.

With a sly grin, Liz stepped forward and put her foot against my groin. She giggled as she felt my hard cock through my jeans and said, "Mmm. I'll bet. Me? I'm hoping Michael comes back." She turned and glanced back at the man in the Speedo, who was in the process of pulling on a tshirt. "God, he's hot. He's French too! I bet you liked watching the way he felt me up in the water, didn't you?"

The matter-of-fact way Liz posed the question left me temporarily stunned. My face began to grow hot with embarrassment. With her foot gently caressing my erection, there was no way for me to deny my arousal. "I... Yes. Yes, I did."

Liz continued to stand over me, her foot still idly rubbing against my cock. "Sorry for being so blunt. It's just that I couldn't help but think about the discussions we've had in bed about you wanting to watch me with another man — and I couldn't help but wonder if you were thinking about the same thing while I was talking with Michael." She tilted her head and bit her lip, appearing to chose her next words carefully. "When that wave hit us, I ended up in Michael's arms under the water. Could you see that from here?" I shook my head, my stomach sinking as I anticipated what Liz might say next. "My body was pressed into his by the force of the wave and my breasts rubbed up against his chest. His body is so lean and muscular — he felt amazing." Liz paused, as if savoring the moment again. "Anyway, I sort of wrapped my legs around his waist and I could feel his cock pressing against my belly. It's huge. I know I teased you about having lovers in the past with big cocks but I may have exaggerated a little — I've honestly never felt a cock that big in my life. It's got to be at least twice the size of yours."

I was speechless. I couldn't believe what Liz was saying. Or doing. Heck, I couldn't believe how I was reacting. I shifted uncomfortably in the sand as the soft strokes of Liz's foot brought me closer and closer to orgasm. Why was the thought of Liz fucking this man such a turn on? What was wrong with me?

Liz hesitated. "When we surfaced, Michael's hands were all over my ass. He even slid his hand over my pussy and started massaging me. It felt really good and I didn't want him to stop, but I also felt kind of bad for letting him touch me that way. I mean, even though we've talked about that sort of thing for fun, you're supposed to be the only one who gets to do that." Liz brought the sundress that she still held in her hands up in front of her breasts and face, as if she was trying to hide herself behind the fabric. She had clearly let things go a bit far, and she knew it. What we had discussed had been nothing more than a bedroom fantasy and we had never actually come to an agreement to act on it. "Are you mad at me?"

I paused, trying in vain to deny the feelings of arousal I was experiencing, and then mutely shook my head in defeat. I knew I was supposed to be outraged, but there was no point in lying. I was incredibly turned on. And confused. Arousal, after all, is not how a man is supposed to react to the news that his wife had let another man touch her. Or to the news that she had enjoyed it. Or that she clearly had wanted it to go further. I was supposed to be mad. Angry. As it was, I was on the verge of orgasm in the middle of a public beach.

And if I did, would Liz see that as permission to act on her desires more overtly in the future? How far would she take this? How far would I let it go?

Liz looked a bit relieved as I shook my head and licked her lips as she pressed her foot down harder against my jeans. She held out a small piece of paper. "When Michael ran up to me just now? He slipped this to me. Do you know what it is?" I mutely shook my head, trying desperately to maintain my composure. "It's the number to his cell phone. He knew I was married and yet he still gave me his number. I guess he must have sensed how taken I was with him and that amazing cock of his." She let the paper slip from her fingers.

I couldn't stop myself. Liz's toes slid up the length of my cock as the small piece of paper fluttered into my lap and I again imagined Liz sprawled on our hotel bed, her small, supple body mounted by Michael's large, muscular frame — her face ecstatic as he penetrated her with his massive, fully-engorged cock. I groaned, a jolt of pleasure running through my body. My pants suddenly filled with my own warm seed. Liz pursed her lips as she felt my cock tense against her foot. "Did you just cum?" Liz gasped as she knelt down in front of me, her hand reaching down to feel my now softening cock. She looked at me with an expression of surprise and wonder. "Oh my god, you did!"