Gail Guides Samuel

*For continuity you may read the Gail stories by date in the Loving Wives section. If you have not read a previous posting I'll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. I'm 5'10, just turned 32, brown hair and eyes and in reasonably trim shape. I met my wife while in university and we are married eight years now. Gail is exceptionally beautiful and very shy, which belies her intelligence and soft spoken manner. She is 5'7" with a young girls figure at 30, small hips, long very shapely legs, small breasted, a picture perfect behind, light brown hair that blondes in the sun and just the loveliest large green eyes.

Continuing from the last post; We are on holiday in Monaco, just returning from three days on board a private yacht. Plans are to stay two more days, visit with an American friend, and finish our holiday in Portofino. At the moment we are at the Mirabeau Hotel, resting from last nights partying.

- - -

The next morning I suggested we breakfast in and stay around the hotel. "Do you have something in mind," Gail asked. "I do, I do, I do," I answered, trying to add music to the words. A while later we made ourselves comfortable at poolside. Gail nonchalantly looked around, and I noted the interest she was attracting. No doubt she was shy but she did sense her appeal and she used it with adventure. For me it was an anomaly, so shy on the one hand, so driven by a conflicting desire on the other. Then the reality, here we are on holiday just a week and she has slept with, fucked I should say, three different men and, she thinks I only know of two.

I looked at Gail, "Are you ready to pay me my bet?" Gail responded, smiling, "I'm ready."

"Well," I began theatrically, "Rather than wining a single deed, I'd like to win a lifetime of shared activity."

"That sounds good," Gail said, still smiling but wondering now too. I continued, "For my bet I'd like us to promise, unequivocally, to be honest with each other."

"She gave me a questioning look, "I thought we were."

"Remember how I sensed something last year, and I was right," I asked.

"Yes," Gail answered.

"Well I know things aren't quite right, and I don't think that's good for us. I'd like an understanding between us, simply said, we share all."

"You're talking about sexual things, aren't you," she asked. I nodded, "Yes."

Ri, I am honest with you. I share everything, you know about yesterday, about what happened on the boat…," I interrupted her. "Love, please don't be specific, yet."

"Do you agree? We tell it all, past-present-future."

Gail seemed surprised at my bet. Like, I wasn't asking for a serious reward.
I added, "I won the bet, you owe me. Do you agree that starting now we are honest about everything? We can discuss the past in bits, later."

Gail questioned, "Do you agree to the same?" I answered, "I didn't lose the bet but, of course I will agree as well." Gail looked at me smiling, but I could tell she was wondering where this was going.

We sat about the pool until late morning. Dinner was planned with our friends Peter and Phyllis so we had the whole day free. We went back to the room and the touching began as we showered together. We went to the bed and continued to touch as we talked. "Why did you ask Paulina to take me away," I asked, while gently touching my fingers lightly over her face, then her breast. "I didn't tell her to take you away," she answered. Gail was holding my still soft cock, gently squeezing. "What I said was, take his attention away from us." I thought about what Gail said and decided that it made sense. "Was I making you nervous," I asked. "No," Gail replied, "You looked like you were in pain." I didn't say it but I thought that Gail was probably right; while watching I was in pain from time to time.

Then Gail asked, "How did it feel in Paullina's behind?" I again explained how it happened, that I actually did not know, and I tried to explain that the feeling only became especially intense when I learned where my cock was. Gail laughed and said, "The ultimate neophyte…that's my man."

"And you," I paused giving her time, certain she already knew that I was asking about her taking Renzo in her behind., "Did he want that?' Gail weighed her response, "No, I guided him." I felt my face flush but I tried not to noticeably react, and I continued touching her as before.

Peter and Phyllis picked us up for 'Italian' at 8:00. Gail was wearing a short grey dress with spaghetti straps over her bare shoulders, her only jewelry her pearls. Demure from a distance, magnetic when you were close and saw she was braless. She looked ready for a fun night, and I could see the excitement in her large green eyes. Phyllis… well she just looked hot. She was wearing the long silky slack suits that girls with a figure wear well. Her cleavage, revealing as usual, and the beige color gave one the impression she was naked. Phyllis noticed my admiring gawk and smiled, seductively I thought. Peter admired and complimented Gail, Gail complimented Phyllis and was complimented in return. Then we all laughed at how silly we were while some onlookers in the hotel stared.

We sat in the hotel and had a drink then wound up in the same restaurant Giancomo had held his reception. We shared that with Peter and his comment was, "Proof I have chosen well." We ate well, forever it seemed. Peter asked the steward to make the wine selection after telling him what we ordered. What a difference that made. We had three different wines, each perfectly suited to the moment. For a man just months in town, Peter seemed to know a lot of people. Some came to the table to say hello. Peter left at one point to speak with someone and Gail leaned toward Phyllis. "Phyllis, you know we don't feel…I'm loving this evening but, well…I think…this evening will not be like the last time." Gail had a troubled expression as she was trying to kindly relay her feelings. Phyllis smiled, "I know Hon," which was what she had been calling Gail, "we kind-of sensed that. I guess we got too friendly... or something." Then Phyllis diffused the tension by looking at me then back to Gail, "And to think I shaved for him." I had been pretending not to be paying attention to their talk but Phyllis's comment gave rise to all of us laughing.

When Peter came back Gail chided, "You are taking us dancing tonight, aren't you? " And shortly afterwards we were off to the very same Club we had visited with Renzo. I don't know if Phyllis told Peter about Gail's comment but the evening was one of the most relaxed we had spent, with anyone, in a long time. I danced with Phyllis and she teased and played with me, at one stage grabbing my behind and pulling me toward her saying, "I have felt hard cocks pressing on me before," that was in response to the arched way I was dancing to keep her from noticing I was hard. Gail and Peter danced cheek to cheek, and at one point, while close to us on the dance floor Gail turned to us and said, "Phyllis, dancing with your husband makes me feel like I have three legs." At the table we laughed, drank too much, and exchanged jokes, a talent that Peter had mastered. One joke which he told I found so fitting, and it has stayed with me, was of the two men on a train, both with black eyes. Each asked the other why they had a black eye. One said, " I mistakenly asked the buxom teller at the train station for a picket to titsburg, and was slugged. The other added innocently, "I meant to ask my wife to pass the Cheerios at breakfast and instead said, you spoiled my life you stupid bitch."

Finally, at 1:00 in the morning we headed to our hotel. If it was uncomfortable for Peter and Phyllis it did not show. We were happy to have been together again, Gail was pleased no feelings were hurt, and arrangements were made for Phyllis and Peter to visit us in Portofino.

Before bed Gail questioned, "Ri, would you mind if we canceled a day at Portofino to visit with Tamara?" I couldn't believe she was willing to lose a day in Portofino but I agreed. Gail was thrilled. Then she told me that she was speaking with Tamara almost daily, I was further surprised. I wondered if Gail had told her about her liaison with Giancomo. As strange as it may seem, we were delaying our holiday in Portofino, to spend a day visiting an old, but very nice lady. In bed we lay apart. I told her how Phyllis had me hard most of the evening. "Would you want to be with her again," Gail asked. "Actually she is exciting," I said, "but it was not on my mind." Then Gail continued, "Peter was hard the whole time, I actually let him rest his cock between my legs while we danced." I asked, "Was it exciting for you?"

"No," Gail answered, "it felt silly. But he didn't push too far." Then she added, I'm glad they will come down, or up, to Portofino.

The first thing in the morning I called the Splendido to change our arrival, and we rented a car for the drive to Cannes. We arrived late morning and Tamara was truly a gem. The three of us talked for much of the fist hour we were there. When I left for a moment Gail and Tamara started their girl talk. Later a magnificent lunch, something she ordered in advance, at the same restaurant where we met. She took us to visit a friend that lived on a boat that had both sails and a motor. When Tamara introduced Gail to the couple she said, "…this is my Aphrodite that I was telling you about." The boat was as beautiful and as complete as any house I have ever seen. Polished woods, sliding doors, a huge dinning room, in an absolutely luxurious setting, easily a third again as large as the Gabbiano. Her friends were a couple in their fifties, and the man was completely enchanted with Gail. And Gail, fired by champagne and the attention, played the enchantress, her hair moving in the breeze, her short dress and long strides so appealing, cheeks flushed, green eyes sparkling. Wherever we went they rushed to invite her back, and that is exactly what they did as we readied to leave, they invited us back.

When Tamara took her usual nap we left for the beach dressed in our swimwear, Gail in her bikini, covered by a wrap around her waist. It was less then a long block to the stairs that led to this section of the beach. At the base of the stairs a small wooden house served as the service center for the chairs, and a café that served some food and drinks.

We selected lounge chairs in the last row, away from the wooden walkway. The chairs immediately in front of us were empty. A beach boy lay towels on our chairs and took our order for water. Gail removed her wrap and the top of her bikini commenting, "I'm probably the smallest one out here." I smiled looking at her breasts, and replied, "And the most perfect too." I had noticed that when we arrived several of the men and a good few women had carefully looked her over. Gail placed her bags on the small table between our lounges and proceeded to put sun cream on me. When she finished I reciprocated and tried to concentrate on rubbing cream on her breasts. She pulled my hands away, looking around to see if anyone had paid us attention.

We were there about thirty minutes, still not having entered the water, when a family of three arrived and chose the lounge chairs directly in front us. They were black and speaking English which made me assume they were American, but later we heard them speak another language. The man was huge, maybe two meters and quite heavy. His wife was also a large person, and when she took her swimsuit top off her breast burst forth like ponderous melons, and I mentioned to Gail, "they must weigh five kilos each."

Their son, probably still a teenager, was tall, sinewy, and had a full head of bushy hair that was alternately reddish, and dark brown. He went unnoticed as he took off his shirt and lay down.

Fifteen minutes later Gail put on her swimsuit top and we walked to the water. We splashed about, walked up to our waist and returned holding hands. Our neighbor, the young man, was walking towards the water as we left and I said, "Bon Jour." He responded "Hello," and Gail smiled. It was a good hour later that I noticed the young man sitting up, sideways on his chair, constantly looking our way. When I looked up he quickly looked away. I looked towards Gail. I thought her being topless was worth looking at, and then I noticed that she had her legs apart, one leg bent at the knee.

"Did you notice you are the center of some attention," I asked as I sat up and leaned closer to her lounge. "Yes," she said, "he has been watching me at every opportunity."

"Can he see anything," I asked. "He's looking between my legs," she said, smiling at me, "but I'm covered ." I turned my shoulder away from him pretending not to notice the exchange.

I was reading the Financial Times when Gail asked me if I wanted anything to drink, then she stood up to walk to the café. I ordered coffee, and she left, this time she did not cover her breasts. After some time the beach boy delivered a small pot of coffee and I wondered why Gail had not returned with him. Another good while passed and I looked up to see Gail approaching, with the young boy just behind her.

Gail proceeded to introduce me to the young man whom she had been chatting with at the café. He offered his hand in an unassuming manner as Gail rejoined, "This is my husband Rian… Ri this is Samuel." We both continued to stand, him towering above me, while Gail made herself comfortable in the lounge again. We were speaking for some few minutes when I sat on my lounge inviting Samuel to sit on the lower part and we continued. He was a student, his father was a diplomat in Washington D.C., they were returning from Africa to Virginia USA, where they lived. Samuel spoke French, perfect English and I guess some African language's as well. He tried hard to keep his eyes on me but he invariably would turn left to gaze at Gail. Her small breasts were spread on her chest with jutting nipples, her legs slightly apart, her bikini clinging snugly between her legs, no pouch, just a perfect slope from her flat belly to the narrow confines of her vagina.

At one point Samuel excused himself and went to his lounge chair to retrieve his sunglasses. He spoke with his mother and she twisted partially to look at us and smiled. I glanced at Gail, she was watching Samuel's every move. She acknowledged my glance by smiling, but made no comment. The boy was tall, slender, muscular without bulge, he had medium dark skinned handsome features, and to me still very youthful looking. "Nice young man," I commented to Gail. She looked at me to see if I was being critical. "Yes," she smiled, "he's beautiful."

My response was, "I'll bet he doesn't shave yet." Gail again looked at me more questioning then smiling, she said, "I hope not."

Samuel returned and we started chatting again. I walked to the water with him, Gail declined to come, and he told me much about his school and his goals. How long are you staying here in Cannes, I asked. He replied, "Actually I'm leaving tonight."

"We are too," I said.

He responded, "Yes, Gail told me." I persisted, " going back to Virginia?"

"No he answered, "I have a school friend in Nice, I'll stay with him until the weekend then return to leave with my family."

"You driving up tonight," I asked. "No," he responded, "I'll take the train."

I thought about it for some time then decided not to say anything. We would pass Nice in our drive back this evening, but I should mention it to Gail first.

As we walked back to the chairs Samuel asked if I would care for a drink. I said no and continued back to the lounge. Gail opened her eyes when my body caused shade. "Love," I said, "Samuel just told me he is going to Nice this evening."

"Yes," Gail said, "he told me that before." I responded quietly, looking at her eyes as I did, "Did he tell you he was taking the train?" Gail was quiet, an unusually long time. "I didn't know," was all she said, her smile was gone. "Do you think I should offer him a ride.?" Again quiet, like she was thinking. ""Sure, we can drop him off…" she ended her sentence and questioned, "what do you think, do you mind.?" If the questions were loaded I'll never know. We agreed to offer Samuel a ride. When he returned we offered to let him ride with us and he was thrilled and accepted. He immediately went to discuss it with his mother and she rose and came to thank us. When we were ready to leave the beach Samuel walked with us up the steps to the street and half a block back towards Tamara's building. I pointed to our car parked on the side street.

"That is our car," I said, pointing to the grey Renault. "We'll be leaving at 20:30," I repeated, "at 8:30."

"I will be here," said Samuel, "Thank you." He looked at Gail and she returned his glance. No nods or exchange that I could see but, I felt a twinge of … of something.

It was about 18:00 when we started back to Tamara's building. We had her key and upon entering the apartment Tamara was crossing from the kitchen where she greeted us, "When you are dressed we will have a little snack for your trip." She said. She had laid out the table with an array of fresh fruit and cheese, a sliced baguette and liter bottles of water, beads of cold sweat making lines down the chill-smog on the green bottles. It looked great and I was hungry.

Gail showered first then packed our belongings and placed them in the hallway. She dressed in a loose cotton travel dress that was calf length and comfortable for travel. A short while later I joined them, and the three of us sat at the table nibbling while chatting, mostly listening to stories that Tamara told. We looked at more photos of her and her husband with famous politicians, and writers, photos of her visits with a renowned philanthropist in a picturesque town in the USA, and more. She was able to weave a web of excitement and social insight into her history and, as in our first visit, we hated to leave. She asked a lot about the boat trip with Giancomo. I don't know whether Gail shared secrets with her when I was not present, or when they spoke on the telephone. We finished our coffee at about 20:15 and bade Tamara a warm goodbye, knowing that Gail's promises to write and call would be kept.

On the way down Gail said, "Do you think it would be fun to take a holiday in Cannes, with Tamara around.? "It's a thought," I replied, not really believing it would be my ideal, then wondering if there were some hidden reason for Gail to ask. "Are you O.K. with Samuel riding with us," Gail asked. "I am," I said, meaning it. Gail touched my arm, starting to say something, then she stopped as I bent to pick up our bag and leave the elevator. I looked at her wondering, expecting her to continue. "Ri, would you want to watch me with Samuel? Her cheeks and chest blushed, turned red. It was the first time she had asked me something like that so directly. My heart was thumping, I felt flush. I looked into Gail's eyes and I could see the questioning fright. It had taken courage for her to ask, she was being honest. I reached for her hand, standing there in the lobby, "Love, what brings you pleasure, turns me on," then, to be even more reassuring, "nothing is more exciting." Just before we arrived at the car Gail said, "Ok. I'll ride in the back with him."

We had the car packed and Samuel was not there yet. I moved the front passenger seat as far forward as it would go. "Tell him that's what you do to stretch out when you want to relax.," I said. Gail questioned, "You think he'll find this strange, think we are wierd?" She continued, with slightly more strength of tone, " I am not going to make love Ri." Then she smiled, Tamara said they "trigger quick…". "What, " I asked, angrily. "You told Tamara he was riding with us… about this?" my voice was rising. "Yes, why not?" Gail nonchalantly replied, then with a slight chuckle she added, "Tamara thinks you're a gem, her words were that you're my perfect mate."