What Happens in Jamaica

I wouldn't have changed anything, though. The revelation I'd had was worth any amount of men lusting after Kim. I was more than happy.

When we left, though, hand in hand, I felt the stirrings of lust. Back on the street, amongst men who hadn't seen us in the bar, there was more interest. As an experiment, I casually dropped her hand when we were halfway down the street and just walked side-by-side. The number of men checking her out definitely went up.

They had to think she was single. That was the next step.

I knew she wouldn't have agreed to it before, but now that she was feeling more confident...

"Are you enjoying it?" I asked, taking her hand again for reassurance.

She nodded and blushed. "Yeah. I feel like maybe I shouldn't. I mean, I shouldn't need other men looking at me..."

I shrugged. "Why not? It doesn't bother me—in fact, the opposite. You know that. We all need...I don't know...approval?"

She nodded. "So what now? Go into another bar?" I was surprised by how enthusiastic she sounded. I'd been worried that I'd persuaded her into this but, now that she'd tried it, she seemed at least as eager as me.

It crossed my mind that that didn't matter. Just because we both wanted to do it, didn't make it right...or safe. Something could still go wrong with this whole game, and it would still be me who'd started it.

But what was going to go wrong?

"Maybe we could go a little further," I said carefully. "Like...what if you went into the next place on your own?"

"On my own?!"

"I'd be right there with you...just a minute behind, so it doesn't look like we're together."

She thought about it. "And then what?"

"You take a seat at the bar, order a drink...or wait for someone to buy you one."

"You think they'll do that?"

"Of course they'll do that. It'll be a race to see who gets to you first."

She bit her lip, thinking. "And then what?"

"Maybe you talk to a guy. Let him flirt with you a bit."

She did one of her little squirms—just a tiny shimmy of her spine, but it let me know that she was both turned on and slightly disturbed by the idea. Or, more likely, disturbed because she was turned on by it. "Flirt? But no touching?"

I stopped walking. I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I don't know," I said honestly.

She stopped too, and turned to me. "Do you want him to touch me?" she asked in a low voice.

We both stood there staring at each other, both of us wearing poker faces. Neither of us seemed to want to speak first.

Touching her? I hadn't really thought about that. I mean, I had thought about it in my fantasies—I'd gone much further than that, in my fantasies—but having another man's hands on her in real life? Was I ready for that?

"Maybe?" I said at last, hedging my bets. "A little?"

She swallowed and nodded.

"I mean, are you okay with that?" I asked. "Because that's what's important. Are you okay with it?"

She nodded again. She looked very serious, and I was worried for a moment that I'd offended her. Then I saw how fast she was breathing. She wasn't angry; she was turned on. "Okay," she said. "But how do we...I mean, how do we end things? Do you come over and tell him I'm with you?"

In a way, that appealed to me. Snatching her away from under their noses, just as they thought they were getting somewhere. But, at the same time, I wasn't doing this to humiliate them. Better to leave them feeling good about the beautiful blonde they met. Then we'd all be having fun, and no harm would be done to anyone.

At that stage, it all still felt perfectly safe.

There was another reason, too. Assuming we did this more than once, maybe some of these guys who met Kim would talk to each other. It was a long shot, but the idea that one guy might tell his pal about the gorgeous blonde American he met in a bar, and his friend saying that he thought he'd met her too, and then comparing notes on her breasts, her ass, her smile...that made me go heady with lust.

"I'll signal you," I said, starting to walk again. "I'll be in the bar, but the guy won't know you're with me. So you can keep an eye on me and when I signal you, you make your excuses and leave."

Kim's face lit up. "A signal? Like a secret signal, like we're spies?"

I grinned. "Yeah."

She smiled. "I always wanted to be a spy. You could scratch your ear or something."

Then it hit me that we were missing something obvious. "Wait. Do you have your phone with you?"

She did, of course. Kim and her phone were inseparable. We arranged that I'd call her when I wanted it to end, or if it looked like things were going too far, and if she needed an escape route before that, she'd look in her handbag and that would be my cue to call her early. "I'll pretend you're my friend, back at the hotel," Kim told me. "And you've got food poisoning. And I have to come and look after you."

I blinked. "That's good," I said. "You would have made a good spy."

I saw another bar at the end of the street. A big place, with plenty of people in it. Perfect. "Ready to try it?" I asked.

She bit her lip. "I don't know. Wait. So I'm a single woman sitting at the bar? Do people even do that?"

"Sure. I mean, if you're single, what else are you going to do?" Thinking about it, back in the days I used to hit the bars as a single guy, most girls were there in groups. Did women really go to bars and sit there on their own, waiting for someone to notice them? What sort of women?

Women who were looking for a man. That's the message Kim would be sending. She might as well hang a sign around her neck saying single and looking. The thought sent a wave of heat down my body, ending in a tightening of my cock. "You'll be fine," I told her. Then I remembered something. "Wait! Your ring. Take your ring off."

She looked horrified. "Take my ring off?!"

"Otherwise they'll know you're married."

She looked doubtfully at her wedding band. "That feels...wow. That's a big thing."

She stood there staring at it for so long that I changed my mind. I didn't want to upset her. "Forget it," I said.

But she abruptly shook her head. "No. You're right. If we're going to play this game, let's play it properly." And she slid off her wedding band. She swallowed. "Wow. God, that feels weird." She looked at her engagement ring. "This, too?"

I shrugged nervously. "I guess. Unless you want to pretend you're someone's fiancée who's cheating?"

Her eyes went wide. "I don't want him to think I'm cheating!" She looked up at me, worried. "This isn't cheating, is it? I mean, should we even be doing this?"

I put my hand on her shoulder. "No. It's not cheating. How can it be cheating if we both want it? It's fine."

She nodded slowly and slid the diamond ring from her finger, then stared at the bare digit. "God. That's the first time they've been off since they went on. It feels...wow. I didn't think it'd feel this weird."

I stared at her hand. Luckily, the rings had been loose enough that there wasn't a noticeable tan line. There was nothing to suggest she was married. It made her look...different. More than you'd think a tiny bit of metal could. She wasn't a married woman anymore. She was young, beautiful...and available.

"Don't lose them," she said, a nervous lilt in her voice, and laid the rings in my palm. I put them carefully into my deepest pocket.

Kim stared at the door of the bar, as much fear as excitement on her face. "Don't panic," I said gently. "I'll be right there with you, just a little way behind."

She nodded. And then, shoulders set, she walked off ahead of me. I watched her all the way to the door, heads already turning as she passed men in the street. At the door, she hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside and disappeared into the darkness.

And it began.

Chapter 6

I stood outside for a moment, wondering how long to wait. We should have talked about that. One minute? Two? I didn't want it to look as if we'd just been briefly separated, and I was chasing after her. I wanted her to have enough time to get to the bar and sit down. On the other hand, if I waited too long, she might think I'd abandoned her.

And what if something happened to her? The guilt came back. I'd just sent my wife, alone and scantily dressed, into a bar neither of us knew, at close to midnight. I stared at the dark doorway. What if I went inside and she was already gone? What if some guy had pulled her into the restrooms? What if she was being dragged, a hand over her mouth, out of the bar and into a dark alley...or into the back of a van, never to be seen again?

I told myself I was being ridiculous. We were right in the heart of the tourist area, and she was in a public place. Nothing was going to happen to her.

Even so, after two minutes I couldn't wait any longer. My breath tight in my chest, I strode down the street and into the bar.

Inside, it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the gloom. The place was one big room, with a live band playing reggae on a stage at one end. In the middle, there was a crowd of people standing around watching and drinking. At the far end was the bar, with a line of cherry red bar stools.

My heart stopped. Kim wasn't there.

Wait: there! My heart started beating again as a guy moved aside and I saw her. She was sitting diagonally on a bar stool, her bare knees almost touching—

I drew in my breath. There was already a guy sitting next to her, talking to her. Jesus, he must have pounced the instant she walked in!

It was difficult to judge his age, but I pegged him at a few years younger than me. Black, like almost everyone in the place, with his hair in tight cornrows. His bright orange shirt would have looked ridiculous on me but, against his brown-black skin, I had to admit it looked great. He was wearing khaki cargo pants and sandals, like he'd just stepped in off the beach. As he leaned in closer to talk to Kim, everything about him said casual. Easy-going. I was too far away to hear what he was saying, but I saw him point down the street, then off in the other direction. As if he was telling her about nearby places. Definitely a local, then. That was probably his chat-up shtick: helping the poor white tourist who doesn't know her way around. I wondered if he was going to offer to show her the sights.

His shirt was open a few buttons at his neck, showing off smooth, dark skin and a hint of broad, curving pecs. He had that "X"-shaped body woman go nuts for—big chest and narrow waist, then powerful thighs. Not as big—or as good looking, I decided—as the guy I'd seen from the balcony the night before. But still obviously a guy who could pick and choose.

And tonight, he'd chosen my wife.

Kim was playing her part, her bare knees almost touching him as she sat there, drink in one hand, body leaning in to him slightly. Her expression was captivated, a broad smile on her face. I could see the guy grinning, too, his eyes locked on hers...except when they flicked down to that smooth, perfect cleavage. God, she looked so beautiful—every guy in the bar must be wishing for a better look at those breasts, those legs. Wishing they were the lucky guy at the bar with her. And if they noticed me at all, they must think I was just like them, another competitor who'd gotten there too late.

I moved closer, planting myself against a wall and then edging along it, as if I was trying to find a spot to lean and chill. I tried to keep my eyes moving around the bar so that it wasn't obvious I was staring at the couple, but it was hard to tear my gaze from them.

The couple. That's how I'd thought of them, for a second. That's how everyone else would see them. Anyone entering the bar now would spot my wife and then see the man talking to her and know that she was taken...but not by me. The idea sent a strange shudder through me—not unlike fear, but ending in a hot wave that soaked straight down to my groin.

The guy shuffled closer on his bar stool—only an inch, but it made all the difference. Now, when he leaned in to tell her something, he could—yes—touch her on the shoulder without looking as if he was reaching. He made out that it was a casual touch, but I saw my wife stiffen...then relax. That was the first contact, the breaking down of the first of her barriers. And once he'd gotten her comfortable with that...

As I stared at them sitting there together, his black hand so close to her lightly tan skin, the difference between them really hit me for the first time. It hadn't even occurred to me until I'd seen Kim back in the other bar, the only white woman in a sea of black men. But now it was becoming obvious that, whoever we randomly pulled into our little game, he was almost certainly going to be black. And somehow, the idea of Kim being lusted after...flirted with...touched by a black guy was even hotter than if a white guy was doing it. I couldn't figure out why. Something about the look of his dark skin against her much paler flesh was just so intoxicating, so erotic. God, imagine if they were naked, his black body between her white thighs—

I cut off that train of thought. That wasn't going to happen, of course. We wouldn't go anywhere near that far.

The man looked over his shoulder, as if afraid of being overheard by someone. Then he beckoned her closer and they leaned their heads together. His heavyset jaw was suddenly right up against her ear as he whispered to her. She giggled, then laughed loudly, a musical sound. And his hand was suddenly on her back, as if to help her lean in to him. But the hand rubbed in slow circles, over her back...her lower back...and then his fingers were just skimming over her ass. I saw her stiffen again...and relax again.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. The sight of his hand there made my face go hot in anger and shame but, at the same time, I could feel my cock throb and grow. God...that was my wife! My wife he had his hand on, the fingertips stroking and exploring. Her skirt was so thin that she might as well be naked...he'd be able to feel every firm curve of her, feel the warmth of her skin through the material. And I was standing by and letting it happen. No, making it happen!

I put one hand in my pocket, feeling the comforting shape of my phone. I could end this. At any moment, I could end this.

But I didn't want to.

Then the guy half-got up and moved his bar stool closer to hers, so they were almost touching. When he sat next to her again, their thighs were pressed together, and I imagined the heat of her against him. Kim glanced around for a second, maybe looking for me, but she didn't seem to see me. I could see that her face was flushed, though, her eyes wide with arousal.

The guy's arm slipped around her waist, his hand curling around her to snug her in close to him. Their faces were inches apart now. God, was he going to kiss her? We hadn't talked about kissing!

He was staring very intensely into her eyes, now, as he spoke in a slow voice. I wished I could hear what he was saying, but the music from the band was too loud.

He said something and Kim's mouth fell open...and then I saw, quite clearly, her gaze drop to the front of his pants. Then he took her hand in his and glanced towards the door.

He was trying to get her to leave with him! Would she do it? What would happen if she did? I imagined a seedy hotel room, or even the two of them going back to our hotel room. The two of them on the bed, him stripping her clothes from her, his mouth and hands ravishing her naked body, then his pants dropping to the floor—

My fingers closed around my phone, but they froze there. For a second, I actually hesitated.

Then I pulled it out and hit the quick-dial icon for Kim. Long seconds passed while the call connected and then, to my relief, Kim gave a little jerk and looked down at her purse, then pulled out her phone and answered.

"Are you okay?" I asked without thinking. "Don't leave with him!"

"Really?" said Kim. "God, you're throwing up? That's awful! I'll be right there!" And she hung up.

Over at the bar, I saw her talk quickly to the guy and get up from her stool. The guy looked a little disgruntled, but nodded and took the opportunity to savor the view of her chest, now at eye level, as he sat there.

Seconds later, Kim bustled out of the bar. I held back for a minute so that it wouldn't look too obvious, then followed.

Kim was waiting just outside. She was pacing around, grinning crazily, almost giggling. I grabbed her hand and towed her down the street. "Tell me everything!" I said breathlessly.

She pushed in close against me, nestling against my body. Closer than normal, in fact. Maybe she wanted to reassure me that she was still mine. "His name was Thomas," she told me. "He works on one of the tourist boats."

"He had his hand on your ass."

"I know." She grinned. "It felt good."

Rage bubbled up inside me and I went quiet for a moment. We walked in tense silence. Until now, the jealousy had been overshadowed by my arousal and I'd only felt it distantly, like a storm you can see on the horizon. Now, though, it was right on top of me. "Okay," I said, in a voice that betrayed that it wasn't.

She looked at me, worried. I could see the fear in her eyes, then—that she'd hurt me. "Does it bother you? We can stop—"

"No," I said quickly. The jealousy was still there. The thought that another man had given her pleasure, that his hand had been on her body... But those were the exact same things that turned me on so much. The anger and lust were like two sides of the same coin. I couldn't have one without the other. "No, it's..."

She waited patiently for a reply.

I tried to find the right words. "It's...part of it? I think?" I said at last. "I am enjoying it. Definitely." I swallowed. "How did it feel?" My insides were twisting. Would she think I was weird?

"It felt different," she told me. "Different to you."

"Why?" I asked hoarsely.

"Because it was someone new, I think. You remember what it's like to kiss someone for the first time, or touch them for the first time? All the excitement. Not sure if it's going to happen or not. It was that."

I was trying to remember what it had been like, back in the early days with Kim. Going on dates, imagining what she looked like under her blouse, then getting her down to her bra and imagining her nipples. Each time, we'd go a little further. Would this be the night I got to feel her breasts? Her pussy? Fuck her? God, it had been incredible. And just now, Thomas had had all that with my wife...and she'd had it with him.

"And also..." Kim was saying, "I think because..." She flushed.

"Because he was black?" I asked quietly.

She hesitated, then nodded guiltily.

"Have you ever...been with a black guy before? Maybe before we met?"

She shook her head. "I think that's part of it. That I've never..." She trailed off. "Does it make me racist?"

I pulled her closer. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure it didn't bother Thomas, if it turned you on that he was black."

"He was just so...different, you know? Different to any guy I'd had before."

I nodded. I'd been feeling something similar, watching the two of them together. "What about at the end? It looked like he wanted you to go somewhere with him."

She smirked. "He told me that he was hard for me."

My eyes bugged out. I remembered her looking at his groin.

"It sounded a lot sexier when he said it," Kim said. "In that Jamaican accent."

"Was he?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. "God, yes. Huge bulge in his pants." She sounded awed.

Of course he'd been hard. She was sexy as hell. "'Huge?'" I asked.