The Deacon's Wife Pt. 02

My husband was in the bar probably with other men, and probably sharing pictures of me with another man's cock in my mouth. How did this happen? I wanted to cry. He had become a different man since we landed on the island. Oh, if any member of our church could see their deacon now! I could understand trying new things in our bedroom, but to expose me to other men. The thought that a woman would let a man put his penis in her mouth seemed unbelievable three days ago. Now, not only have two men put their penises in my mouth, they both ejaculated in my mouth. What was more horrifying, I thought, that I let them do that, or that I enjoyed it and the way it tasted.

I laid down for a nap filled with erotic dreams where a black man's cock was hard and pointing at my mouth. I awoke feeling more tired than when I fell asleep, and I was horny. I was also starving. I went downstairs to find my husband, but he wasn't at the bar or restaurant. After eating room service, my husband finally came back to our room around 11:00. He was drunk and smelled like he had sex with another woman.

As I helped my husband get undress and into bed, I could smell another woman on his underwear. Crumpled polaroids fell out of his pocket, pictures of me naked while I was sleeping, pictures of me with his come in my mouth and my breasts clearly visible and a picture of the other man's penis in my mouth and my face covered with come.

I tried to get him into bed, but he ran to the bathroom instead and spent a chunk of time throwing up into the toilet. When he thought he was finished, I pushed him into the shower. I was not sleeping next to him, smelling like another woman and vomit.

My husband was very apologetic in the morning. He did not mention having sex with someone else, just drinking with a bunch of guys in a bunch of different bars. We headed down for breakfast and coffee. Several men came up to us and talked to my husband like they were old friends. He did not introduce me to any of them. He said he met them last night and could not remember their names. Several of the men stared at me in a way that made me very uncomfortable. I suspected that my husband had shown them the pictures of me.

We made plans to head to the beach after breakfast, but I wanted to grab a quick shower first. When I came out of the bathroom, there was a new bikini laying on the bed for me. This one seemed smaller than the last which I did not think possible. I didn't want my husband to talk to me, so I just put the suit on. When we settled into our beach chairs, I removed the top and applied my own sunscreen. Our neighbor from yesterday was staring at me as rubbed liberal amounts of sunscreen onto them. I was putting on a show, I knew it and he knew it. He looked disappointed when I put the sunscreen away.

Robert came for our drink order, but my husband was already sound asleep. I was trying to decide what I wanted, and my eyes fell onto his cock leaving me speechless. As I sat there staring at the bulge in his shorts, he started rubbing it.

"Pretty lady never seen one this big I bet. Go ahead and touch it so you know it's real."

Like a zombie, my hand moved forward, and I touched his bulge, running my fingers from the top to the tip.

"Why don't we skip the drink and go for a little walk, and you can do more than touch it."

I was getting up when reality set in up and I looked over at my husband.

"Don't worry about him pretty lady, I saw him last night, he sleeps for a long time.

"I think I'll just have a pina colada."

He gave me a wink and left to get my drink. I can't believe that I touched his cock, yes it was through his clothes but... But what I thought, yesterday afternoon my husband let another man put his cock in my mouth and come on me. And the way he smelled last night, he must have been putting his cock in someone else's cunt. I noticed our neighbor was staring at me again and I wondered if he saw my interaction with the waiter.

Robert came back with my drink and my eyes were again drawn to his crotch. We chatted for a bit, my eyes never leaving the monster. I realized that he was pulling up the leg of his lose fitting shorts and then there it was. The head of his cock along with a few inches were visible. It was huge and black. Just the portion visible was longer and much thicker than my husband's. How could that thing fit into me?

"Whenever you're ready pretty lady. Many white women come to the islands to satisfy their curiosity on what it would be like to be fucked by a real man with a real cock and their husbands love to watch."

"That's not why I came here, my husband and I celebrating our honeymoon!"

"Maybe, but I don't think that's why your husband wanted you to come here."

Our conversation left me speechless. This man was so forward with me and was he right, did my husband bring me here to have sex with black men? I was embarrassed when I realized all this thinking of sex with a black man had brought back that tingling feeling in my vagina.

My husband woke up sometime later and apologized for sleeping most of the afternoon away. He scanned the beach and mentioned that many of the women near us were also bottomless. He turned to me and ordered that I take off my bottoms. I tried to be very discreet about it, but our neighbor certainly noticed. He moved his chair so he could have a better view. I put on another show for him as I put suntan lotion on my bikini area. My husband insisted on getting my butt and in doing so, ran his fingers along my pussy several times commenting how wet I was.

Seeing me naked on the beach had given my husband an erection and I think it did the same for our neighbor. Our waiter returned for another drink order, and I flipped over onto my back. Feeling devilish, I had my legs slightly spread when he returned with our drinks. Three days on the island and I had been completely naked for three different men, my husband, our neighbor and now a black man.

We were barely done with our drinks when my husband decided it was time to head back to our room. I left my bottoms and top in the beach bag and simply donned my almost transparent cover-up. I walked several steps in front of my husband doing nothing to shield my body from any other people in the lobby.

Once inside the elevator, my husband started playing with my naked ass, wetting his fingers into my pussy and then pushing them into my ass.

"I loved the way you dressed for our walk back to our room. I am so proud of how comfortable you are becoming showing off that beautiful body. You made me proud. I want some picture of you dressed like that."

He positioned me in several poses, standing still and laying on the bed. He had me lean against the wall, first facing it as he took pictures from the floor looking up my spread legs. My husband surprised me when he pulled me over his lap. I was expecting another spanking although I was certain that had not given him any reason to. Not that I would not have enjoyed it. Instead, I felt him dripping that liquid again running between my ass cheeks. My husband began working the liquid and his fingers into my ass with the same warmth as the day before. Again, my body betrayed me, and my ass began to push back against his fingers. After several minutes of working his fingers deeper and deeper into my ass, I orgasmed.

I had fallen asleep, I don't for how long when my husband woke me to shower for dinner. My husband had a new wardrobe waiting for me when I finished my shower. This one included black stockings and garters. I had seen them before in old movies and was surprised that people still wore them. He had also included a black corset however it did not fully cover my breasts and left my nipples exposed. The dress was also black and made of very thin lace material. There was a lining around my waist, but my nipples were visible though the top. It was longer than the other dresses he bought me but this one had slits running up both thighs. It only covered my stocking tops if I stood still.

While my husband was in the shower, I looked at the pictures he had taken. There was a lot of free speech arguments going on at the time and the big question was what constituted pornography. The answer to the question lay before me. Pictures of my husband cock buried in my throat. Pictures of his come on my face. There must have been two dozen pictures there. Seeing myself like that, looking like a harlot or a Playboy centerfold, sent chills into my pussy.

My husband had a new restaurant he wanted to go to, and we needed to take a cab there. Before we left, he surprised me with a gift. It was a black lace choker with a white pearl hanging from it. After putting it on me, he complimented how well it went with the dress. I wasn't sure of the look he was going for.

The cab drive held the door for me, and it was impossible not to show him most of my legs. I was so focused on keeping my knees together that I did not realize the top had opened showing off my breasts. He was the second black man to see my tits that day. Dinner was okay but I thought the hotel had a better view. There were many guests from the hotel, people I recognized from the beach or lobby.

While in the stall in the lady's room, I heard two women from the hotel talking:

"... he told me he's going on that overnight fishing trip again. Fishing trip my ass, more like an overnight slut fucking trip! Doesn't he realize everyone knows the only thing they are going to catch is pussy," said one woman laughing.

"Out there fucking women younger than his children but thank god, let him take that tiny dick on the boat and I can find a real man with a big cock to give me a proper fucking."

After some giggling, the second woman said, "and what about you? That new waiter looks like he's really packing."

"You know, sometimes I like to find a young thing with a nice, sweet pussy and spend the night exploring my other side," said the first woman.

"If you want chocolate, I heard the young lady in the gift shop is available for entertaining."

"Maybe, but I was thinking of our polaroid princess. Her husband was telling people she really likes the taste of her pussy and she's never been with a woman before. I could be her first."

"She is a pretty thing. Do you think she knows her husband has been sharing those pictures with most of the other men here?"

"She is pretty, but I think she is very naïve, still believing that bible bullshit about the man being to lord of his castle. If my husband tried that shit, I'd cut his balls off. The poor thing's husband is a complete hypocrite: the bible this, the bible that, oh and here look at these pictures of my wife sucking another man's cock."

"Like you haven't sucked another man's cock in front of your husband."

"Yes, but I choose whose cock I suck or fuck, unless he's lined up a nice big black one for me. He does know what I like."

I was in shock. The thought that my husband would really share those pictures and other women knew he was doing it was unbelievable. I was so angry I wanted to slap his face. Cutting his balls off also sounded good. I continued sitting there crying realizing that I was in a foreign country a thousand miles from home, and I had nothing. My husband owned everything including me he thought. If I was going to make changes I would have to wait until we got home, but then I started thinking about the fishing trip.

Realizing I could not stay in the bathroom forever, I dried my eyes, freshened up my make-up and rejoined my husband at our table. We headed over to an adjacent ballroom and found a little table and ordered some drinks. There were a lot of people from our hotel here and our neighbor joined us after a few minutes. I was not paying attention to what they were talking about.

What caught my attention were the number of women who were dancing with men other than their spouses. That may not sound odd, but it was the way they were dancing, very close with hands on inappropriate places. Several white women were dancing with black partners. One white woman was openly kissing her black dance partner. Her husband who was sitting at the bar chatting with another man. He didn't seem to either care or notice. Many of the women appeared to be much younger than their husbands. These days, they would be called trophy wives, but I did not recall that phrase back in the 60's, maybe because the people of Nebraska did not have trophy wives.

I realized my husband had been talking to me, but I had not heard a word he said.

He asked if I was okay, and I said yes.

"Great news honey," he added, "I've just been invited to a very exclusive deep sea fishing trip tomorrow afternoon. The trip will be overnight because we're going to the deep ocean, Will you be okay by yourself for the evening?"

"Of course, I'll be fine by myself. I'll find something to keep me busy."

Our neighbor asked me to dance and with urging from my husband, I agreed. Within minutes, he slid his hand onto my ass. I removed it. He grabbed my ass again.

I pulled his hand off again, gave it a firm squeeze and said, "I am asking you to stop!"

"Why, your husband won't care if I squeeze your ass, he invited me to put my dick in your mouth and you did not object to that."

"That one caught me completely by surprise and you will never do that again."

"I'm not sure your husband will agree to that."

"From now on, I will decide who touches me and where. And it certainly won't be you!"

I broke off from our dance and headed back to our table feeling very proud of myself. My husband asked about his friend who seemed angry when he walked away.

"He's a despicable human being," I said, "and I am being kind calling him a human being. He makes my skin crawl!"

My husband seemed shocked at my strong words and there was something else, I am not sure what. We sat there in silence for what seemed like a long time until a well-dressed black man asked me to dance. I did not realize it was our waiter from the beach who cleaned up nicely. I agreed and took his hand, ignoring my husband. He guided me across the dance floor effortlessly.

"Why do you let your husband treat you this way?" he whispered in my ear.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the pictures. What a husband and wife do in their hotel room is their business, but to share pictures of those private moments with complete strangers... I don't know, it just seems wrong."

"It never occurred to me that he would share those pictures with anyone. It seems everyone in the hotel has seen them. Have you seen them?"

"I am embarrassed to say I have. You are a beautiful woman; I am not sure any man could not look given the opportunity."

As we danced, I could feel his member pressing against my belly, only the thin material of his slacks and my dress preventing contact, but I could feel his heat.

"Other than that, have you been enjoying your time on the island?" he said.

"Oh yes," I responded. "I am not sure I should be telling you this, but I had my first orgasm on our first night here. It was incredible. And since then, I have had so many others and I have done things with my husband that I never even heard of. So many new doors have opened, and they can never be closed again. The pictures are certainly an embarrassment, but I'll probably never see any of these people again. For the first time in my life, I have begun to masturbate and don't plan on stopping, whatever the religious hypocrites say. So yes, I am enjoying the islands and looking forward to opening other doors."

I was resting my head on his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around my waist as he held me against him as we continued to dance, first one song, then a second and a third song. As angry as I had been with my husband about the pictures and knowing what he planned on doing the following night, all seemed right when I was in this man's arms.

I had not notice but we had left the dance floor and were now standing on an isolated balcony. The moon was lighting up the ocean waves and everything was perfect, or almost perfect. I took one of his hands and slid it down to my ass and he grabbed on. It is hard to describe the feeling when a real man puts his hand on your ass for the first time. We had stopped dancing and he leaned down to kiss me, his tongue was so big when it entered my mouth. Remembering big, I reached down between us and found his cock, semi hard in his pants. I wanted it! I wanted to drop to me knees and take him into my mouth. I wanted him to bend me over the railing and fuck me right there, not caring who saw. I wanted to taste his come!

The conservative me, the one with common sense, pushed him away. I did not know where my husband was, he could be looking for me.

"I am sorry," I said, "we can't do this here and now. My husband is going on that overnight fishing trip tomorrow and I will be all alone in my room. Maybe then."

"May I come and join you in your room?"

"I need to think about it, again I'm sorry. I'm not sure that is a door I want to open."

"Which door, the one where someone other than your husband makes love to you or the one where a black man makes love to you."

"I think it's the door where a real man makes love to me."

We broke our embrace, and I headed back to my husband while the waiter seemed to disappear. I found my husband at the bar with a bunch of other men including our neighbor. All of the men were staring at my tits and ass, they weren't even trying to be discreet. I told my husband I had a headache and was returning to our room. My husband said he wanted to stay awhile but arranged a cab for me.

The dance with our waiter had left a tingling in my nether regions and my nipples were aching, I wasn't sure if the cab driver could notice in the darkness. I noticed how attractive he was. Feeling amorous and knowing my husband would not be home, fantasies of the driver started running through my head. With every ounce of self-control, I got out of the cab, giving the driver a nice view of my vagina as he held the door for me.

I was struggling with my self-control as I stepped off the elevator onto my floor. As I walked down the hall to my room, that girl Didi, who works in the boutique stepped out of the room across the hall from mine. We made eye contact, and I could see she was very upset. I asked her what was wrong, and the tears swelled up in her eyes.

Bringing her into my room, I gave her some tissues and again asked what was wrong.

She said, "I slept with a man for money. I never did that before; I mean I've slept with men before but never for money. There is never enough money in my house, and he offered me $500."

She pulled the $500 from her purse and threw it on the floor. "You keep it, I don't want it. And if my boss finds out that I slept with one of the guests for money, he'll fire me. I don't even like having sex with men!"

She continued to sob. I sat down next to her on the bed and put my arm around her. She quickly buried her head into my shoulder and continued to cry. Her crying began to subside, and I suggested that she lay down for a bit. It wouldn't do any good if the hotel staff saw her walking around with tears in her eyes.

Didi was asleep in minutes. She was a pretty thing. Her short skirt had ridden up exposing her panties. Visions of the man's come leaking out of her pussy into those panties crossed my mind. God, where has my mind and morals sunk to. I jumped in the shower to cool off but ended up masturbating again, pushing my fingers into my pussy and sucking them clean.

As I was sucking my juices off my fingers when I opened my eyes to see Didi standing in the bathroom doorway. I was so embarrassed as I frantically tried to cover up. Didi smiled, pulled her dress over her head and joined me in the shower. She began to kiss me. It felt so different being kissed by another woman. There was passion there but not the aggressiveness my husband usually displayed.