Love with No Limits?

I had massaged my wife almost once a week, if not more often, and I knew how easily squatting on a woman's legs can let you lean forwards, stretch out your own legs between hers, and slide your cock into her pussy while she is still lying on her front. With someone as slender as my wife, it is so much easier than with a woman carrying weight, and if I was aware of this, so was this guy.

I could see Julia answering something that the guy had said to her, and the guy leaned forwards, took his body weight on his arms, stretched out his left leg between my wife's legs, and stretched out his right leg, bringing it beside his left.

My stomach sank.

My heart felt like it was pounding on my rib-cage.

I had no doubts about what was about to happen. The fact that they were on a beach did not matter. We had already seen women sucking their guy's cocks, guys fingering their women's slits, and a tanned, pixie blonde with pierced nipples and cunt, fucked by her husband's friends. Discretely sliding your cock into the woman you are lying on top of would not draw any special attention here.

It would have taken too long to get from the wicker bar chair to where this was all happening. The guy started humping, slow, steady, rhythmic movements.

My stomach churned.

Suddenly I understood why they talk about blood running cold. In the blazing sun, I felt a shiver rack my body.

My brain threw up questions that I did not want to have to face. If this was the ease with which my wife allowed a stranger to possess her, did I want her as my wife? Could I accept this side of her, and still love her, like the husband of the pixie blonde? How many guys had fucked his wife? How many would fuck mine? Could I enjoy this, the way he seemed to?

He had not put on protection. He was bare. If he came inside her, it would be his sperm swimming around, blindly racing one another to reach an egg.

She had to have thought of that.

She had to know that while she was fertile, and guy who came inside her risked impregnating her.

My guess was that he would not have cared. Any woman was fair game. He would be long gone before she missed her period. Maybe it made him feel good, the idea that some child, or children, growing up in France or Germany, or Holland, or in England, was really his.

Now the questions in my head moved to the next level, whether I should end things with Julia now, once and for all, or whether I should wait and see, and hope that he was firing blanks, or that it was just bad timing, or whether I could deal with Julia's pregnancy being fathered by someone else, or with not knowing whether it was mine or his.

He did not last that long.

He turned out to be a selfish lover, the kind who did not hold back to let the woman have her orgasm before he came.

He just did a little one, two shuffle of his buttocks and I knew that he was spewing sperm.

Once he had finished, he kissed my wife's shoulder, three times, each time on the left. She smiled. I could just about lip read the 'thank you' that she said.

Moments later he got off of her, kneeling first, wiping his flaccid dick with his towel, and then standing.

The questions still reverberated in my head. What would I say to her, now that she had let this stranger come in her? I still loved her deeply, but I felt that love could just now have been destroyed. Nothing could ever, would ever, be the same.

He came right across, walking straight for the seat beside mine, and sat in it without asking first if it was okay by me.

"The husband, right?" he said, his accent Dutch.

Nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for how to hold a civilised conversation with a guy who has just humped your wife. Some might say that I should have hit him. I could have done. He was well built, but so am I. Which of us would have won an all out fight is hard to say, but I could have got in my blow first, or maybe kicked the guy where it would really hurt, where he was totally unprotected.

Had I found him in our bedroom in our house in England, maybe I would have done, but something about this beach made things so much different. People came here to fuck. They fucked openly. They might be husband and wife, enjoying only each other, or swingers, looking to swop, or couples wanting a guy to be a third party in their sex lives, or single guys looking for single guys, but this beach was made for fucking, and hitting someone because of what had been pen, consensual sex was not an option here.

Instead, I confirmed that I was the husband.

"You're a lucky guy," he said, in his heavy accent, the consonants rolling in his throat. "That's the first time that I've been turned down."

I tried to take in the logic of what he had just said, set against what I had just seen taking place.

"She says she loves you too much to let another guy come inside her, however much she's fantasised about it."

I was still taking in what he was saying when he was getting up again.

"Bonne chance, mon ami," he said, and sauntered past the bar and out of sight. Good luck, my friend.

Fuck a guy's wife, and suddenly he becomes your friend. Except he was pretending that he had not fucked her, or at least had not come inside her, if he was pretending.

I went across to Julia. She was still lying on her front, her slender body stretched out, her legs still parted. Her skin was gleaming in the sun, the sun lotion the guy had used on her creating a superb golden sheen all over, except right in the hollow of her back.

Right there, a creamy pool of semen had formed, evidence that the guy had not been inside my wife when he had come. For the semen to be there, his cock had to have been on or between her buttocks, not in her cunt, his cock head at her lower back, spewing his semen there.

I breathed just that bit more freely, as I did a mental replay, visualising the moments just before and as the guy had come.

Cold, unemotional, visualisation told me that the way he had been lying, he could not have withdrawn and gotten his cock outside of her, to come right where that pool of semen said that he had come. His buttock movements had been too slight. That meant that his cock had only ever been between her buttocks, and his humping had been sliding back and forwards, in the groove between my wife's twin globes of soft, tanned flesh. He had not fucked her, but had just used her buttock flesh to bring himself off.

"She says she loves you too much to let another guy come inside her, however much she'd fantasised about it," the guy had said.

"Hi," Julia said.

"Hi," I answered as I lay down on the towel beside hers.

"Would you have preferred to watch him fuck me?" she asked, once I was lying down.

"No," I said.

"That's good," she said, smiling, and waiting a moment before continuing, "and,.. do you mind what happened?"

The truth was that I had hated the thought of what was happening when I was watching, because of what I believed was taking place, but now that I knew, I did not really mind, not in the same way. If anything, it was something of a turn on that my wife had let a guy do that to her.

"No," was all I said.

"Maybe," she said, "that is what will work for both of us. Anything short of actual penetration, and only here, on holiday, and only when you are with me. I thought I might like someone like that guy to fuck me, but then I realised that the only cock I want inside of me is yours."

"That's good," I said.

"I guess," she added, "that means I love you too much to share myself with anyone."

"I love you too," I said, "and I don't want to share you with anyone. Not now. Not ever."

I love the way my wife smiles. This time there was something mischievous about her smile.

Still smiling, she got up from her towel, onto her hands and knees.

"Then fuck me, now," she said.

************

All of that was two kids and sixteen years ago. We still go to the same beach every year. The kids, or teenagers as they are now, stay with one or other set of grandparents, while we get two weeks on our own.

We still watch other couples, and the mixing and matching that goes on still fascinates. It clearly works for some. But not for us.

Julia still get caressed and fingered. Not so often on the beach, but there are clubs where guys will know that it is welcomed, especially if she dresses in a certain way.

My wife still loves it when I take her on her hands and knees, on the beach, in a club, or even back at home. I am pretty sure she fantasises that it is not me, but someone else, that is fucking her mouth-watering cunt. That is fine by me. I picture the same thing in my head too. But in sixteen years, it has never happened, and I do not suppose it ever will.