My Wife Rediscovers Her Sexuality In the Hands of a Stranger ( By S )

S is a new author exploring the fantasy world of erotica. His style of writing is different from the usual content this site host. If you have work you would like to be featured, drop me a mail. I’m looking to bring in new perspective and a breath of fresh air to the stories on site.

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INTRO

“David, I can feel his hands… He’s touching me.”

Amy’s voice was a little frantic, but also a little breathless. She was letting me know that the massage I had booked for her in the privacy of our villa had perhaps strayed into something not quite so professional.

Little did she know that not only was I not upset to see Simon’s hands wandering over my wife’s body, I was actually sporting a massive hardon as this large Greek man slid his meaty palms up the back of Amy’s thighs and when he reached her sex, swiping her labia and clitoris with his thumb.

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CHAPTER 1

Before I describe the night that unfolded, let me introduce my wife and I. If there was one word I could use to describe us, it would be that we are completely ordinary. Neither of us was particularly outstanding in the looks department, though my wife was often mistaken as someone younger than her actual age. I am past middle age and definitely in need of more exercise. Amy was in much better shape, thanks to better genes inherited from her family. We were both average height for Chinese Asians, which meant that at 1.9m, Simon was more than a head taller than my wife. 

Simon was someone I found while searching online for a masseur to treat my wife to an in-call massage on the third day of our holiday in the island of Crete. Among the various masseurs offering their service in Crete, his profile stood out because he emphasized that his philosophy when giving massages was to always seek to connect with his clients and took it as a matter of personal pride that his clients would always finish their sessions completely satisfied. To me this seemed reassuring as some of the other profiles seemed to read more like dating profiles, with thinly veiled promises of a ‘good time’. He communicated via WhatsApp and it was a simple matter to arrange the date and time for a two hour massage session at our AirBnB villa. 

Simon was extremely punctual. Arriving promptly at 5pm at our doorstep. I let him in, and watched as he set up the massage table next to the bed. His motions were effortless, a result of practice I supposed, and also from the fact that though not built like a bodybuilder, he was certainly more fit and younger than me. In no time he had the table set up and he gestured for Amy to undress and lie face down, covering her with two towels (upper and lower body) for modesty as he began his massage. My wife seemed a little embarrassed as she removed her top and shorts and lay down clad only in her bra and panties, but having done many massages on trips to Bali and Thailand, once she had lain face down and unhooked her bra, she seemed to regain her composure. 

Simon started his massage pretty conventionally. He first massaged Amy’s neck and shoulders to release the tension held there. Then he massaged down her back until just above her buttocks. I could see Amy start to drift off into a content haze and I made myself comfortable on one of the armchairs present in the room while I started scrolling through my phone.

I paid little attention as Simon worked on my wife. I did notice that like all professional masseurs and masseuses he had very strong hands and I could see his forearm muscles ripple as he kneaded and pressed my wife’s back, shoulders and forearms, before moving down to her calves and slowly working their way up her legs. The two towels covering my wife were adjusted as Simon draped and uncovered different parts of my wife that he was working on, though one towel was always covering her butt, to protect her modesty.

Perhaps because it was because everything was proceeding so usually that I stopped paying close attention, until I heard Amy’s sudden intake of breath. Curious I glanced up from my phone and saw that Simon had apparently completed massaging both calves and was now kneading the back of her thighs. I didn’t understand why Amy gasped at first until I saw Simon’s hand travel all the way up her thigh and slide up under the towel covering her rear. While Amy was still clad in her panties, the thin silky material I imagined did little to block the sensation as Simon’s fingers slid under the towel and over the buttocks of my wife. My wife’s buttocks looked small compared to his large palm, which fully covered the entire cheek of her ass. I then saw his thumb slide between her ass cheeks into her butt crack and it must have made quick contact with her vulva and asshole because Amy let out a second gasp.

I was transfixed as I watched this larger man now use two hands to massage the back of my wife’s thighs, and each stroke of his hands he would slide his thumbs between my wife’s legs and rub the lips of her vagina and also her anus. By this time Amy had started breathing really heavily and I could see her squirm a little, overcome with erotic sensations.

“David, I can feel his hands… He’s touching me.”

———–

CHAPTER 2

“David, I can feel his hands… He’s touching me.”

“Yeah no shit” I thought to myself. But strangely I didn’t feel any urge to speak up or to stop Simon. Instead I continued watching as this stranger touched my wife in her most private and erotic zones. 

Instead I was fascinated by the sight. It felt almost like I had stumbled into a private scene between two lovers and I was the interloper. 

All this while Simon hadn’t uttered more than a few short phrases and he seemed like a man completely focused on his task. Maybe it was also the way that he seemed so professionally intent that I too held back from making any comment. 

“Is this part of the massage” I thought to myself. After all, we had only experienced massages in Asia. Maybe they did it differently in the Mediterranean?

My attention snapped back to Amy as a new sound came from the direction of the table. My jaw dropped as what I saw seemed like something straight out of a JAV scene. Simon stood by my wife’s side. His left hand was on her upper back, between her shoulder blades and he seemed to be restraining Amy from rising from the massage table. Even though he was only using one hand, my petite (in relation to Simon) wife was not able to push her upper body off the table. But it was to his right hand that my gaze was drawn.

His right palm was on my wife’s butt, over her tailbone, his thick fingers were curled around and between her legs and I could see his middle and fourth finger had slid past the lacy fabric of my wife’s panties and was pistoning in and out of my wife’s vagina!

*Squelch* *squelch* Wet sounds were coming from Amy’s vagina as I stood up, finally galvanized into action at the sight of this guy manhandling (as it appeared) my wife. I had no idea how I was going to be able to pull this bigger guy away from my wife, but my instinct to protect my wife overrode all conscious thoughts and plans.

Just as I crossed the bedroom from the armchairs to the massage table Amy let out a large groan. 

“OHHH! Fuck! Oh god! Ahhh!”

I knew that sound. That was the sound my wife of 15 years made when she was having her orgasm. But this was louder and more urgent than any I had heard her utter before. 

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CHAPTER 3

“OHHH! Fuck! Oh god! Ahhh!”

I knew that sound. That was the sound my wife of 15 years made when she was having her orgasm. But this was louder and more urgent than any I had heard her utter before. 

I froze.

What I had imagined to be panic and struggle in my wife’s movements I now saw was actually her shuddering in extreme ecstasy. Simon wasn’t holding her down to force her into submission, as I had initially assumed, but rather was preventing her from climaxing so violently that she fell off the massage table. My wife’s knuckles, gripping the edge of the massage table, were white not from terror, but rather from her struggles to hold on to her sanity while a huge orgasmic wave crashed over her. 

As she came down from her bliss-filled high, she made soft cooing  sounds.

“Oooooh, oooooh, ahhh. Ohhhh.”  

Stark contrast from the almost guttural moans ripped from her soul a few seconds prior. She lay panting and practically boneless on the massage table in her deep satisfaction. Every bit of tension and worry that we all carry unconsciously seemed to have drained completely out of her. I was struck by how beautiful she seemed. Practically glowing. 

This is what pleasure looks like. I thought to myself. And it seemed that I had fallen in love all over again. 

A voice intruded into my ruminations. “Turn her over.”

That jolted me back to the moment. Had I actually forgotten Simon’s presence?

“Turn her over.” He repeated. No doubt sensing my state of turmoil. 

It was a voice that expected compliance and was used to being obeyed. Almost unthinking I reached out to my wife, cradled her close and turned her face up on the massage table. 

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CHAPTER 4

She lay there. Eyes closed. Dreamy look on her face. Clearly still caught up in the lingering afterglow of her orgasm. A thin sheen of sweat covered her chest and forehead. A smile of utter contentment on her face. 

“She doesn’t need those.” Simon said, finger pointing to her bra, clasp undone and draped across her chest. 

Once again I obeyed the command unthinkingly. Sliding the straps of Amy’s bra off her shoulders and arms. Revealing Amy’s modest but proud and firm breast, with pert and hard nipples straining, begging even, to be held, fondled and touched by a man’s hand.

Without even being told, I knew what Simon wanted next. Moving lower, I literally peeled Amy’s panties down her legs and off her pussy, so wet with her womanly juices that the front of the panties seemed stuck to her. Evidence of how much she had cum from the small pool of liquid glinting from between the v of her thighs. The scent of her was strong in the air and my subconscious recognized the smell of deep arousal.

Simon moved to stand opposite me, on the other side of my wife. Mirroring my position. In doing so, any observer would be drawn into comparison of the two men bracketing a woman in full flower display. They would see one man. Average height, dark hair, broadly built but with what some fondly call an Asian pot belly. The other, taller, erect stance, brownish/blond hair. Life experience and strong confidence etched into his bare forearms. The two men gazed at each other for a brief instant and it seemed that some unspoken agreement was made.

Simon dispensed with the need for any more false modesty or pretence with towels and draping. Oiling up his hands and forearms he proceeded to run his large hands over every part of my wife’s bare body. 

Whether he wanted to tease her further, or whether he was simply saving the best parts for last, he actually started off with her hands and forearms. My wife’s tiny(in comparison) hand was engulfed in his as he held her hand and lifted her arm slightly. With his other hand wrapped around her wrist he slid his hand up to her armpit. The circle made by his thumb and fingers large enough to wrap completely around her arm. Somehow all I could think about was that it looked somewhat like he was doing a jerking off motion, instead of a penis, it was my wife’s arm.

While his actions were mundane, it nonetheless seemed to affect Amy. Her body responded instinctively, as she strained her chest upward, like a moth seeking the flame. Her other hand strayed to her sex, like how a baby would seek to latch on to the breast. A low moan came out of Amy, as the pleasure assault recommenced.

As for myself, I could only stand and stare at the tableau of ecstacy laid out in front of me. While I had always personally worshipped at the altar that was my wife, my first love and the one to whom I had offered up my virginity, never had I elicited such a response from Amy. Feelings of inadequacy crept in me. But more than anything, what dominated me was incredible arousal. As Simon’s ministrations shifted to her other arms, I retreated to stand at my wife’s feet. It seemed that I had subconsciously decided that Simon was to have full access to my wife’s body.

After massaging both arms. Simon then moved to stand at Amy’s head. Once more putting us in opposite positions. From this position, Simon’s long arms reached out, one hand starting at each clavicle, sliding down Amy’s sternum, following the valley between her breasts, until they had travelled past those lovely twin hills, he then circled around either side and back up and repeated the journey of his hands, tracing a circling path on each breast.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Don’t stop.” Amy’s hand now gripped the edges of the massage table on either side. Her chest was thrust upwards in an effort to maximize contact. Her nipples standing hard like pencil erasers. Swollen with blood and desire.

I realized that Simon, who thus far had seen entirely unaffected by the proceedings, was now sporting a large bulge through the loose shorts he was wearing. From my vantage point at Amy’s feet I watched his groin bump against the top of my wife’s head as he continued his tender stroking of my wife’s flesh. By my estimate, his ‘package’ was the length of my wife’s head. Torrid thoughts began to rear in my head.

Simon’s ministrations continued. I admired and approved of the attention he gave to my wife’s chest. Somehow he had picked up on the fact that Amy’s breast was a highly erogenous zone for her. It was like he had read the owner’s manual to my wife’s body and knew which pleasure centres to target.

As though to demonstrate this mastery of her sexuality, Simon’s hand made one last circle and then came to rest right on top of each breast. Covering fully and almost possessively each mound. 

He squeezed. Amy’s response was immediate. 

“OHHHH! YES! Squeeze my tits. Fuck that feels good!”

———-

CHAPTER 5

Simon’s grip was almost crushing. I could see the muscles on his forearm ripple with effort as Simon milked her creamy orbs. But far from complaining, Amy seemed to be in heaven. My normally mild mannered wife was swearing like a sailor. Her body writhed as it lay on the massage table, pleading for more.

Flick. 

Simon flicked Amy’s distended nipple the way you would flick an insect. 

Amy exploded. “Ahhh!”

Flick. Again. The other nipple this time.

Again a cry rose from Amy.

Now both nipples stood out angry and red.

As though in apology, Simon shifted to Amy’s side, lowered his mouth over Amy’s breast and started sucking and licking in a parody of a baby seeking nutrition. One hand covered the other breast, more gently this time. 

Amy responded instinctively as a mother. Wrapping her own arms around Simon’s shoulders, hand cradling the back of his head. She started cooing soft sounds of pleasure. I wanted to join in too, but the moment almost seemed too private and my role it seemed was merely to bear witness.

Again I was struck by the image of beauty in front of me. Memories of Amy breastfeeding her babies came to my mind. Now, as then, I saw a woman in the full bloom of happiness and satisfaction.

All thoughts of massage were driven from my mind. I ached to hold my wife and indeed started to move up to come and stand by her side. But Simon, consummate professional that he was, decided wordlessly that he had an unfinished job to do.

Carefully (reluctantly?) he drew himself out of her embrace. His hands once again reached out for my wife’s body. This time those large hands made their way down her sides, converged over her navel and spread out again to travel down her thighs. Where his hands moved, Amy’s flesh trembled, not in fear, but what I had come to recognize as desire. Her body craved this touch from this strong stoic man. Somehow they communicated to each other with hardly any words spoken. I was spellbound once again by the connection they seemed to have.

As Simon’s hands reached the end of their journey at Amy’s calves, he gave each calf a firm squeeze. This time a different sound of contentment came out of Amy. We had spent the past few days hiking the various gorges and visiting the various beaches of Crete and had amassed a much higher than usual step count compared to our usual routine in Singapore. This was why I even came up with the idea of engaging a massage therapist this penultimate afternoon/evening of our 8 day trip to the Mediterranean. It was intended to soothe Amy’s body before our inevitable return to Singapore and the grind of our jobs. 

Simon’s shifts from professional massage, to erotic stimulation and back must have been somewhat confusing to Amy, because I could see her slowly sinking back into the almost dreamlike state one achieves during a good massage. I, on the other hand started to feel almost disappointed. Maybe I was conditioned by too many JAV films, but part of me was thinking ‘is this it?’. Besides that I was still blue balled from not having achieved my own release so I promised myself that I would reclaim my wife’s body once Simon left.

But little did I expect that the final act was yet to come.

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CHAPTER 6

Similar to what happened when my wife was face down, Simon’s hands moved competently up from massaging her calves to the flesh just above her knees. I could see his thumbs digging into the tendons and muscles of Amy’s hairless and smooth legs, aided by the massage oil he used. Amy started groaning in pleasure. Lactic acid built up from the past days exertions driven away under Simon’s talented efforts. Once again Simon demonstrated his knowledge and mastery of my wife’s body. 

‘Maybe I should go learn how to give massages.’ I thought to myself. Wondering if it would give me similar insight into female anatomy. 

But I shouldn’t have kidded myself, Simon was clearly a maestro when it came to playing the instrument that was the female body. He demonstrated this with what came next.

It was inevitable that Simon eventually ran out of real estate unclaimed as he methodically covered every inch of my wife’s body with his hands. As before, his hands eventually arrived at their ultimate destination between my wife’s legs. Amy too must have sensed his intention. As Simon’s questing fingers came closer to her sexual core, her legs spread in welcome. From between the lips of her labia, a pearl of liquid appeared, signalling her readiness and desire.

Simon accepted the invitation. I held my breath as I saw one thumb, then another swipe upward, gathering and spreading those pearls of arousal across the fleshy lips of Amy’s sex. My penis, which had been starting to subside, sprang immediately back to attention.

“Ohhhh, fuck….. Mmmmmm”.

Amy’s approval was unambiguous. Actions matched verbal expression. Her legs, already spread apart, widened even more. Her hips strained upwards, presenting the flower of her vagina, inviting Simon’s attention. Pleading for MORE.

Amy’s breaths came in short pants. Effort presented as a layer of sweat on her forehead and upper chest. Unconsciously, her hips started a slow undulation, a foretaste of the oldest dance between man and woman.

Two thumbs dove into my wife’s pussy. Amy’s back arched like a bow at the long awaited (re)penetration. The size of Simon’s large hands highlighted again in contrast to my wife’s smaller frame as his palms and 4 fingers could still wrap around her thighs even as his thumbs, themselves easily a good four to five inches in length, buried themselves in my wife’s vagina.

“YES! Oh god yes!”. Amy shouted her encouragement. Which I thought was really entirely unnecessary. I could see a look of determination and commitment on Simon’s face. The large man clearly needed no additional motivation.

Simon thumb-fucked my wife. It was glorious. Amy’s pussy leaked fluids at first, then started actively weeping as though in gratitude. At the back of my mind I wondered if the massage table was waterproof. If not, it would probably be ruined after this evening.

Amy’s hands flew to cover her face in (belated) embarrassment. She seemed surprised and a little betrayed by her own body’s reaction. but if there were any thoughts of regrets on her mind, her body was clearly not getting the message. Her hips pulsed to a primal rhythm, her chest rose up and down as she struggled to draw sufficient breath to scream out her pleasure. By this time, Simon had switched to using two, then three fat fingers to penetrate my wife. Given the size of Simon’s digits, I realised that Amy was probably experiencing the sensation of the thickest piece of flesh she had ever had shoved up her love canal. 

And clearly she loved it!

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CHAPTER 7

By now I had lost count of how many times Amy had orgasmed. Certainly more than four times, not counting the first orgasm she experienced while face down, or the second smaller orgasm she had when Simon sucked on her breasts. Six orgasms. That was more than she typically averaged a month! All in one session. And Simon was not done.

Directing another command my way, Simon said “Grab her arms. Let her see herself pleasured.”

Again, I obeyed with barely any hesitation. I grabbed Amy’s wrist and held her arms above her head. Her breasts, already sitting firm and high on her chest, arched further upwards in both invitation and offering. Amy’s continuous stream of moans and groans crescendoed into wails as her last psychological cover afforded by her hands covering her face was stripped away by her own husband.

“AHHHH! AHHHH! AAAHHHHH!”. Amy descended into incoherence. Her body was now Simon’s instrument, and he played her like a maestro. Four fingers were now jammed up her pussy, stretching wide that elastic muscle and fleshly opening. Amy’s vagina was taking in the equivalent of a soda can’s circumference now.

A clear spray of liquid gushed out of Amy’s pussy, squirting past her legs and even further than the end of the massage table. I had heard of women who squirted before, but this was my first time witnessing it. I was transfixed!

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!! FUUUUCCCKKKK!” While her words suggested refusal, her every behaviour gave a lie to her speech. Her body shuddered violently on the table. Legs spasming as though her motor neurons were randomly misfiring. Every muscle in her body seemed to be clenching and unclenching in sympathetic contractions to the orgasmic signals flooding out from her sexual core. Her hands grabbed mine in a death grip, even as I continued to hold her arms down. 

Slowly, gradually, her tremors subsided. That’s when I let go of her wrists and Amy curled into a foetal position on the massage table.

“No more. I can’t take any more.” she managed to gasp out.

Simon patted Amy on the head. The way one would pet a family pet.

“Good girl.” he said. And strangely those words evoked a strong sense of pride in me. I realised that I was proud of my wife for achieving such a complete and utter surrender to her sexual desires.

To be continued…

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“My Wife Rediscovers Her Sexuality In the Hands of a Stranger.” PART 2.

CHAPTER 1.

“Good girl.”

The words could have been belittling, like I was being talked down to.
Strangely, I felt nothing but gratitude, like a puppy that received
their master’s praise. Blame the oxytocin, dopamine, endorphins and
other neurochemicals coursing through my system and flooding my
brain’s pleasure centres. In that moment, my usual asian conservatism
was completely banished and I was fully and utterly emotionally and
sexually available to any willing to claim it.

Like an infant, I reached out blindly, seeking a physical anchor to
tie myself back to reality. First, towards David, whose reliable
presence I could always rely on and point to unerringly in any
situation. And with my other hand I sought out this new stranger who
had entered my life and to whom I had surrendered my climax and had
bared my body and soul, literally and figuratively. I knew literally
nothing about this man, other than his name, but he had somehow
managed to unlock parts of my sexuality that I never even knew I
possessed.

David sensed my need for connection and wrapped his loving arms around
me from behind. I relaxed into his comfortable and familiar embrace.
My other free hand, unbidden, went straight to Simon’s groin and
wrapped around his manhood through his shorts. I could feel the heat
emanating even through the fabric of his shorts. His meat felt massive and solid and my mind
tried to shy away from acknowledging the size, girth and length of
Simon’s spear. Surely that’s impossibly large! There’s no way anyone can have
sex with that.

Before anyone accuses me of being a complete mountain tortoise, I do
know that dicks come in different shapes and sizes. But I had only
ever seen one penis in real life and that was my husband’s. We had
measured it once with a plastic ruler and I had believed then that
13cm was already generous in its capacity to give me pleasure. My
girlfriends had told stories of men they had slept with that were
‘well hung’ and had whispered about 16-17cm long love tools, but none
of their stories had descriptions that came anywhere near to matching
this!

Simon’s balls, felt through his loose shorts, were bigger than what my
palm could cup and felt heavy, like the ankle weights that I
used sporadically to keep fit. His penis was almost as thick as a fat
soft drink can and I could have wrapped both hands around
their trunk and still leave a good portion of the penile shaft and its
mushroom head protruding past both hands.

To say I was curious about Simon’s equipment was a massive
understatement. This was something I had to see with my own eyes! My
grasping hands grew hungry with need as I ran both hands across his
groin. I heard Simon’s grunt of pleasure and that pleased me. It
seemed unfair that he had made me scream and cum with such abandon and
I had not found any chink in his armour. I resolved that I would pay
back, at least in part, some of the pleasure he had imposed on me and
reclaim my womanhood by making him beg for release in the way that I
had. Dear reader, I know that sounds illogical – reclaiming one’s
womanhood by stripping and pleasuring a man, but I swear to you that
that was indeed my logic at that time.

(Actually who am I kidding, I was spellbound by that log of meat that
I hadn’t even set eyes on yet. Simon hadn’t even waved his ‘wand’ yet
and I was already his willing slave).

Matching action to intent, I sat up on the massage table, which at
least brought Simon’s strong jawline closer to my eye level. Getting
rid of the pesky shorts that stood between me and direct contact with
Simon’s monster cock wasn’t difficult. His shorts were held up using
an elastic band and a looped string and a simple tug on the slip knot was
sufficient to loosen it to fall to his feet. Simon pulled off his
own tank top, exposing his broad chest covered with short strands of
hair. I had never seen a hairy chest before, since Asians typically
were not very hairy and the novelty of seeing it now distracted me for
a few moments, as I ran my fingers through the soft down of Simon’s
chest hair. His breath caught a bit as my fingers, small and delicate
against his muscular chest, grazed his man-pectorals.

‘He’s sensitive there’ I mentally filed away this tidbit of
information. Maybe I could take advantage of that at some point.

As my hands ran down his chest and across Simon’s abs, not quite an
8-pack or even a six pack, but still radiating strength and power in
its firm ridges and with little evidence of any kind of a paunch, my
eyes followed their journey downward until they rested on a brown tuft
of hair perched like a bird’s nest on the limb of a tree. At least my
brain insisted on thinking of it as a tree branch because otherwise I
think I may actually have been scared.

“It’s still not even fully hard,” I observed breathlessly to myself. Indeed his
trunk-sized penis was only half at attention, gravity exerting its
influence to make the end of it curve downward. Still I could only just about wrap my hands around its
circumference. I marveled at how substantial and heavy it felt, even
semi erect as it was, and also how alive it seemed, pulsing in rhythm with the
beat of his heart which my imagination told me I could hear through
his chest. I realised belatedly that the pounding sensation was my own
heartbeat as my own body reacted to this massive tool. My
fight-or-flight response actually engaging in half sensed fear that I had perhaps
bitten off more than I could chew.

But I was nothing if not stubborn, as David was wont to remind me. I
resolved to see this through having come so far.

———————————————

 CHAPTER 2.

A man’s penis, I came to realise, is as individual as a fingerprint.
Instead of ridges and whorls, a penis’ uniqueness lay in its shape,
the network of veins running down its length, how it curved, up, down,
or even sideways. Each penis’ musky scent was also different. I
breathed in now the scent of Simon, realising at the same time that I
was also smelling some of the lingering after-scent of my own juices
from before. The smell was so thick that I could practically taste it. Simon’s
penis and its urethral slit beckoned, like snake-charming in reverse.
As I gripped the shaft in both hands and attempted a clumsy hand-job,
Simon’s manhood nonetheless rewarded my
efforts, filling my palms and growing stiffer, rising like leviathan
and fixing its singular gaze at me. Now fully erect, it was as thick
as my forearm and as long as the length of my wrist to my elbow, a
good 22cm, if not more. Its head, like a scarlet-purple mushroom,
looked wider than my jaw could stretch. It felt alive and almost like
a separate entity from the rest of Simon’s body. It resembled a cudgel
in both shape and heft. A single pearl of liquid appeared at the very
tip, and without thinking, I bent down, aided by Simon’s towering height, the massive length of his cock and
my own flexibility, and licked that little bead of pre-cum from the
tip. Simon shuddered, which made me insufferably proud and a warm feeling
of pleasure formed in the core of my womb,
diffusing outward to stroke the nerves of my vagina and bringing forth
a matching wetness in my crotch. I couldn’t help myself,
I started rubbing my cheeks, my nose and the rest of my face against
his shaft, like a cat seeking affection from her owner.

I was not normally a fan of blowjobs, reserving it only for special
occasions with David. Not out of any special aversion to the act, but
simply because I preferred to skip the pleasantries and proceed
straight to having a dick in my pussy. But there was something
strangely compelling about Simon’s penis that made me want to slide
off the massage table, kneel, and worship him with my mouth. It was
almost instinctual, like a baby wanting to suck a pacifier.

But as though sensing my intention, Simon gave a command that sounded
like “OH-hee”, which I later learned was “No” in Simon’s native
tongue. While I didn’t understand the words, the meaning was clear. I
was not yet to have the benefit of tasting his cock. Instead, Simon
pushed my shoulders back down and I was once more face up and lying on
the massage table. Except now I was placed perpendicularly to the
table, my legs had lifted up and spread wide naturally as Simon pushed
my shoulders down and my crotch was now on full display to Simon’s
gaze and exposed to Simon’s dick. I shuddered in dawning realisation that I
was no longer in charge (assuming I ever was) in the events that were
unfolding.

My head would have hung unsupported over the other side of the massage
table if it were not for the thoughtful intervention of David.
My dearest husband half supported me and also shifted me so that my
body was more angled on the massage table and I could rest
my head on the padded massage table pad. Belatedly I realised that
David had seen everything that had happened so far (No excuses for my inattention I know but I had just been having the most
mind-shattering orgasms in my life, that tends to make a girl distracted).
I flushed with embarrassment and wondered what was going through his
mind as he saw his wife enthusiastically
offer herself up to a stranger in front of him. At the same time I
also realised that he hadn’t yet voiced a word of objection. Could it
be that he actually wanted to see his wife ravaged by another man? I
knew that some men enjoyed/entertained thoughts of cuckoldry, which as
far as I knew was a desire to see their wives pleasured by other men. David had
never shared any such desire with me before, but on the other hand,
neither had we really talked a lot about our individual desires. It
seemed that this night was going to be a night of joint discovery for
both David and myself.

Lost in my ruminations, I was called back to reality by a warm
sensation on my pussy. Simon had poured some of his custom massage
oil, pre-warmed by immersion in a small bowl of hot water, over my
mons, pubes, clitoris and labia. He rubbed the oil generously over my
sex, even sliding lower down to rub some over my anus, making me
shudder in arousal. Then grabbing his massive tool, he started
slapping the length of my vulva.

God, he was hitting all the right spots. I was seeing shooting stars
dance across my vision.

‘Fuck!’ I screamed, both in my head as well as verbally. “Oh Fuck!”.

How could physical assault impart such pleasure? It felt like someone
was slapping the sensitive lips of my womanhood and the raw nerve
fibres of my clitoris with a bat. It should have hurt but all my brain
registered was pounding waves of pleasure.

I tried to sit up, I really did. Whether it was to protect my precious
woman-parts or to join in the pummelling attacks I don’t know and
could not say, even now. But again I heard Simon say “OH-hee” and then
realising that he needed to switch to English to convey his proper
intentions, he added “You lie down, I will make you ready.”

‘Ready? Ready for what?! I was already light years beyond what I had
ever experienced. How could there be more?’ I thought to myself.

Then I felt it.

At the entrance of my vagina, this pressure. It felt like someone was
trying to shove a clenched fist into my vagina. I knew it was Simon’s
monster tool and an icy shard of fear sliced through me.

“IT’S TOO BIG! IT’S TOO BIG! YOU’LL TEAR MY HOLE!”, I yelled in fear.

Whether it was the alarm in my voice or his own observation of the
state of things, Simon didn’t push any harder. But neither did he pull
back either. Instead, he drizzled more of the oil on the head of his
penis and the mouth my vagina. Clearly undeterred and still
determined.

“It’s okay, we’ll go slow. You’ll be fine once the head is in.”, a different voice chimed in from behind me.

I turned incredulously towards the sound of that familiar voice saying
something utterly bizarre. David stood behind and above me, hands
still lying reassuringly on my shoulders.

“You’re fucking kidding. It’s huge! And what do you mean I’ll be fine,
you aren’t the one that is being impaled on that!” I replied, more
than a little annoyed at how unperturbed my ‘dear’ husband seemed.

But somehow the two men, it seemed, had hatched some kind of plan
between themselves that I was not privy to. David didn’t even bother
to answer me. Instead he once again grabbed both my wrists and,
seemingly out of nowhere, produced a length of soft rope and tied
wrists together with practiced efficiency. Having made sure my hands
were secured, he then pulled the rope taut, which stretched my arms
almost painfully overhead, and fastened the other end of the rope to
the leg of the massage table. I lay there helpless and
cursed my husband’s dedication to learning knots when he was younger
and a boy scout. The rope around my wrists was firmly knotted,
but not overly tight. At least I wasn’t in any danger of having my
circulation cut off.

Being immobilised, I realised, triggered something in me. While I was
still a little bit scared, I found myself starting to get incredibly
turned on. Could it be that I was somewhat into bondage? More
importantly, how did David know this about me which I didn’t even
fully realise about myself.

———————————————
CHAPTER 3

David didn’t give me any further time for introspection. After tugging
twice on the knots to make sure they were secure, my husband began
fondling my breasts. The bastard knew my weaknesses. Years of marriage
had given him the roadmap to almost all my secret pleasure zones. He
pawed my tits like he was playing with playdough and god I loved it
(as he well knew). His playful thumb and fingers pinched at my nipples, tugging
and pulling on them in the way that drove me nuts. The physical
mauling alone would have been pleasure enough, but it was magnified
tenfold, twenty-fold by the helplessness I felt in my bound state. A
stream of curses flew from my mouth, language that I never let myself
use outside the bedroom. A rising wave of pleasure began building in
the depths of my sex. I felt like I was rapidly losing control of the situation and of control over my body.

I cursed both men for taking advantage of a poor tied up girl and questioned both men’s honour. 

Something thick flicked my clitoris. Simon had gotten in the act. He literally flicked my swollen clitoris! 

‘Thwap!’, again it came.

And that was the last conscious thought I had for what seemed like
minutes, but was probably only a brief span of a few seconds. In that moment,
my body clenched. Every muscle and sinew vibrated like a plucked
violin string and my cry of pleasure would have been heard by the
neighbours, had not our villa been separate from any other dwelling, surrounded by
a rocky field, a patch of turf and a rock wall that represented the
boundary of the property.

I came in what seemed like a never-ending wave. Longer and much more sustained than any I had had before in my 10 plus years of marriage. 

Usually, David’s technique was fairly vanilla, sex in missionary position, lasting only a few minutes of thrusting and then a few jerks and spasms from David and then a quick descent from the mountains of pleasure as David’s modest penis inevitably lost rigidity and he pulled out from me.
This time it was different. This time I was left with a lingering sensation of immense fullness.

Looking down in confusion, I strove to see the cause of this
difference and I must have still been dissociated because what I saw
was the massive head of Simon’s penis engulfed inside my vagina. My
labia lips were stretched around that massive tool, looking flushed
with desire. I had never felt so stuffed before and it felt AMAZING!

“Good girl”. For the second time tonight, a man patted me on the head
and talked to me like he would a pet. This time the feeling that came
first to my mind was… triumph? I felt myself basking in the glow of that praise.

“Oh fuck!” I exclaimed and surprised myself by how calm I sounded.

Piecing together the events that must have occurred when I was
otherwise occupied cumming like I had seldom cum before, Simon, I
realised, must have been waiting to take advantage of that moment when
I was too overcome with pleasure and right after my body had clenched
in orgasm and then relaxed like a loosed bow, to force the head of his
dick into me. Clearly he was experienced in the art of ravishing women
with his giant penis. I laughed at my foolishness in thinking I could pay
him back for his earlier ravishing. The man had planted his flag in me
and I knew a lost cause when I experienced it.

“Pussy is tight, but all pussy want Simon and so Simon always gets
the pussy.” Simon’s command of the English language, while not
Shakespearan, was certainly blunt in meaning and intent.

Fine, the enemy had breached the castle gate, but that didn’t mean
they had seized the throne. If conventional fighting failed, time to
switch to guerilla warfare.

“I don’t remember Simon asking to come in and I certainly didn’t ask
you to penetrate me. You may have stuck your cock in me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give in to you.” I realised how comical
that might have sounded, with our two bodies joined at the crotch and Simon’s penetration already fait accompli, but
a woman’s sharpest weapon is her mind and her words. I would not give
Simon the satisfaction of an easy conquest.

Simon’s eyes narrowed at my defiance as he gazed down at me. I must
have looked a sight. My hands were still tied up, sweat covered
my forehead, chest, breast, stomach and limbs. But he seemed to see
the defiance in my eyes and he gave a knowing smirk. His smile said
‘Fine, I’ll let her pretend, but she will bow to me before I’m done with her’.

And then he started pushing himself further into me.

——————————-
CHAPTER 4.

Dear reader, I can’t begin to fully describe to you the sensations
that I experienced when Simon started thrusting. Imagine sitting down in an awkward position and having your circulation cut off to one of your legs. Recall the

sensation as you stand up and the blood rushes back into your limb.

The pins and needles, the fiery sensation as your nerves start

shouting their presence to your brain all at once. Have you ever then

touched that newly reawakened limb as it went from a feeling of

numbness to too much feeling all at once. That overloading of the

senses? Now magnify that a hundred times and that begins to

approximate what I was feeling. Raw nerves being scraped with

sandpaper. But instead of pain, imagine pleasure. Seemingly endless

pleasure. Pleasure that goes on and on until it becomes your only

sensation.

My eyes rolled back in their sockets. I think I started drooling.

David later said that I started to moan and gurgle incoherently.

My pussy was on fire and it was spreading everywhere. My hips, my

thighs, my legs, my arms, my chest, my breasts, my cheek. Every piece

of skin that Simon touched kicked up a new conflagration of desire. I

was in heaven, I was in hell.

“FFFUUUUUUCCCCKKKK!” I screamed. “OOOOHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKKK! YOU are KILLING me!”

Simon could bareful move in and out at first, since my pussy was

clamped like a vice around his shaft. Even he found it tough

apparently, despite his larger size and greater strength, to move more

than a few centimetres back and forth. But the human vagina is an

amazing thing. Given time to adjust, it can accommodate pretty much

anything short of a cantaloupe. I mean, after all, how else are babies

born, and I had already successfully delivered two. Biology and

perseverance eventually won the day and gradually his movements

lengthened and his speed increased, aided by the copious fluids that

were flooding out of my vagina.

“OOOOHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKKK! OHHHH GOD! OH FUCK! OH SHIT. IT’S TOO BIG. YOU ASSHOLE IT’S TOO BIG!” I was starting to sound

like a broken record, but I really couldn’t help myself. I surrendered

to pleasure. Even if my hands had been untied then, there was absolutely nothing I could have done. Any thought of defence or defiance blown away in the

tornado of pleasure I was experiencing. Simon was still ploughing his

steel-rod into me like a jackhammer, each thrust brought him deeper and deeper. Five cm,

eight cm, 10cm, 12cm, he claimed me millimetre by millimetre. Thrust after thrust he hammered away at my very soul.”FFFUUUCCCK YOUUUU! FFFUUUUCCCKK YOUUUU!” I was delirious with
pleasure. Railing at Simon. Angry at him, but really angry at myself
and my body for its betrayal. I could feel EVERY millimetre of that
thick cock as it crept closer and closer to the back of my vagina and
the mouth of my cervix.

I thought surely he would have to stop there. Surely there was no way
he could break past my cervix. 15 cm. I felt the head of his penis
bump up against my cervix and part of me rejoiced that I had succeeded in taking all
that he could give me and I was still in one piece. Yes, my vagina was
still spasming in ecstacy around his delicious manhood. Yes, my brain
was still exploding in mini supernovas as I came and came and came.
But I had survived the impalement and that seemed like a kind of
victory in of itself.

I looked down at my womb. I swore I could see my pubic mons area distended,
forced to accommodate this large trunk of manhood. Simon was still
thrusting himself into me, but I started to feel hope that the worst was over.

———-
CHAPTER 5

Then for the second time in one night, my body betrayed me. Unlike
past orgasms, which rose in slow crescendo and crashed over me like a
wave, this latest
orgasm came with practically no warning. Maybe it was because I was
already experiencing pleasure unsurpassed but one moment I was
tingling with pleasure and the next moment I felt like I had just been
slapped by a wall of water, a tsunami.

I lost all control of my body. My back arched like a drawn bow, my
head flew backward. My mouth opened in a silent scream. My whole body
started shuddering in a full on seizure. My legs moved without my
conscious volition and wrapped themselves around Simon’s torso,
crossed themselves behind his back and my body impaled itself on Simon
spear down to its base. 22, maybe 23 centimetres of hot manhood surged
into my core. My cervix opened like a flower. I swear my vaginal
muscles did their part to suck take him entirely into my being. I
felt like I was being internally possessed. Nothing, absolutely nothing had ever
felt this good. I was dying.

“FUCK ME! OH FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK MY PUSSY. OH GOD IT’S SO HUGE IN
ME!” I chanted. David must
have untied my hands, worried that I would hurt myself unknowingly,
because I found them free of restraint and I could now reach out and
embrace Simon, this man, this stranger, who had so effortlessly and
completely robbed me of any volition and choice and conquered me
through sex so thoroughly that I would have agreed to any act of
depravity he asked of me. In that moment it seemed like I had
completely lost myself in the throes of passion.

“You are Simon’s good girl, yes?” Simon couldn’t hide the smug note
from his voice. He lifted me effortlessly into the air. My weight was
supported effortlessly by his arms and his thick rod. My world shrank
until the only thing I could perceive was his meat, even now still
thrusting in and out of me.

“YES! I’M YOUR GOOD GIRL. LET ME BE YOUR GOOD GIRL. PLEASE LET ME BE
YOUR GOOD GIRL! PLEASE! OH GOD I CAN’T! IT’S TOO MUCH! OH FUCK!” I
wailed even while I was still coming continuously. Had I really entertained
thoughts of standing up to this man?

“You give yourself to me. Yes?” The bastard wanted my unconditional
surrender to be on verbal record.

“YES! FUCK I’M YOURS! TAKE ME DADDY! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARDER! USE ME AS
YOUR FUCK TOY! FUCK MY PUSSY! FUCK ME INSIDE OUT! OH FUCKING GOD!” I
degraded myself in front of this man and my husband. The husband I had
vowed to love faithfully and utterly, forsaking all
others till death parted us. But I barely felt a twinge of guilt, so
far had I sunk. My pussy and womb had fully surrendered by this time and Simon
was able to slam his groin into my pubic bone, burying himself fully
into my uterus with each thrust. This was not lovemaking. We were
rutting like animals.

Seeing that I had fully given myself over and would offer no further
resistance, Simon picked up the pace even more. His goal was obviously
to reach his own climax, ejaculate into my battered womb and cement
his possession of my body. His pelvis was like a battering ram. I was
for sure going to have bruises after this.

The abuse went on for an eternity. I was left a drooling mess within
the first 10 minutes. Random shudders pulsed through my body. Neurons misfiring
like flares shot from a sinking ship. I was literally putty in Simon’s
hands. I barely registered as midway through our violent coupling, he
physically rotated my body on top of his cock and lay me back down on
the massage table face down.

All throughout he never stopped thrusting. Stroke after stroke he kept hammering himself
into my poor abused hole. I was sure that he had completely ruined my
love-hole with his monster tool. In this latest position I could feel
his ball sack smack my clitoris with every thrust. The angle of attack
allowed him to fully grind his groin into my ass, penetrating me even
deeper, though by this time it hardly seemed to matter. I could feel
myself passing out, I was only human after all and this man could have outfucked a gorilla.

The bastard knew somehow that I would soon slip away from him and
clearly he wanted me alert and aware for his final triumph. I felt his
hand reach between my legs, coating his palm with the juices flowing
liberally down my legs. Next thing I knew something hard and knob-like
rubbed a few circles around my anal sphincter. I sensed the assault
that was coming but before I could clench my butthole to deny it
entry, Simon’s thumb, itself a good 10cm or more long, forced itself deep
into my rectum.

I SCREAMED. This was simply too much violation! Tears sprang from my eyes. My body
clenched itself painfully, front and back around both invaders. No more! I could not take any
more!

This must have been what Simon intended. A final humiliation and goad
to his ego. I felt his rod stiffen even harder, painfully rigid and I
knew what was coming. I felt them, mini explosions deep in my womb. Hot balls of
fire hitting the back of my uterus. I came one final time. Screaming
out in pleasure or agony, I don’t really know which. Simon ejaculated
in me, his cum spraying out in a massive flood like water from a fire hose.
His large balls must have held a torrent of pent up sperm and rage and
it spilled out of me in spurt after spurt and ran down both legs in a
milky and frothy river.

“AAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” I screamed out my full and
final capitulation.

“Good girl.” I heard, one final time, before my world dissolved into
nothingness.

———-
CHAPTER 6

I don’t know how long I lay there in a pool of our combined fluids. At
some point later I felt myself lifted up, wrapped in a large towel and
carried naked to the shower. Tender hands held me up and gently washed
away juice and semen that had dried and crusted over the lower half of
my body.

Warm water flushed away all the evidence of my misdeeds, but did
little to wash away my guilt and my shame. Sensing perhaps that I was
still too raw for direct contact to my privates, the hands never
intruded below my navel, letting water be the only point of contact to
my groin. I was grateful for the kindness, because now that pleasure
had abandoned me, pain indeed became my whole world. I looked down at
my pussy region, half expecting to see a massive gaping hole. Why did
my vagina look so normal? Yes the lips were red and puffy, like how I
would expect the mouth of a harlot to be, but little other evidence
showed of the massive abuse it had just taken. I wept. I don’t know
why.

I was enfolded in a warm hug. David. Always faithful David. My rock
and my emotional anchor. He had not abandoned me. Now he cradled my
head against his chest and made soothing sounds against my damp hair.

With David’s comforting arms around me, I slowly pieced together my
fractured psyche. The pain in my groin, while initially throbbing also
faded slowly into a dull ache. I was still sore, make no mistake, but
my body no longer felt like an exposed raw nerve.

The combination of warm soothing water flowing from the rain shower
faucet and David’s gentle ministrations restored me to back to a
semblance of myself. I belatedly realised that David had carried me
into the shower while he was still fully clothed. His t-shirt and
shorts were fully plastered to his wet skin. But he didn’t seem to
mind, all his attention was on me. After the bulk of the conjugal
fluids had been washed away, he turned off the shower water, pumped a
handful of body foam and started to lather me up, beginning with my
shoulders, back and arms, working his way down one leg first then the
other. Sensing that I still might not be ready for my direct contact,
he deliberately avoided my sex. All that remained after he had
finished both my legs and feet was my front, stomach and chest area.

With tender caution, his soapy hands worked their way over my waist
and belly, before gliding upwards to my breasts. I expected them to be
as sore as my bruised vagina, but instead they seemed to welcome his
hands. A shiver ran through me, not from cold, but desire, the kind
that raised goosebumps across my flesh.

David’s hands paused, as though worried that he had hurt me. To
reassure him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his lips
down for a deep kiss.

“I’m okay.” I whispered, in between kisses. “Hold me.” I pleaded.

We stood there, shower forgotten, kissing as though to make up for a
long absence. Not an absence of time, though I suppose there was a bit
of that since it had been a while since I had truly committed myself
to a long make out session with David, but an absence of desire to
connect. Like all married couples, David and I had allowed our work,
all children and our habits to dominate our attention. But for those
few minutes, I abandoned all other concerns and communicated solely
through my kisses.

I remembered our early courtship, when we were still naive and young.
Exploring our respective first relationships. Everything then was
novel. Everything was cute, even the silly little things that
boyfriends and girlfriends did for each other. David serenading me
with love songs and doing little craft projects. Me, writing love
notes and making small drawings professing my love.

Old memories… good memories… treasured memories… I realised that
I was still very much in love with David.

“I love you.” I said, looking deep into his eyes. Putting every ounce
of feeling and sincerity into my words. Hoping and praying that he
would recognise the truth of my words.

“I love you.” I repeated, voice thick with emotion and with growing
desire. I yanked at the hem of his shirt, heavy and clumsy with the
weight of the water that had soaked into it. I wanted to remove all
physical separation between our bodies.

David sensed my intention. He pulled the wet t-shirt over his head,
which left me free to fumble with his shorts. They were not like
Simon’s drawstring shorts (now why was I thinking of that man, I
scolded myself internally), but still I managed the buttons and the
zipper.

With those obstacles out of the way, I yanked his shorts and briefs
off in one motion, sinking to my knees. Before David could protest or
even react, I wrapped my mouth around his manhood and commenced
sucking like my life depended on it.

And maybe a part of me felt like somehow it did.

——————-
CHAPTER 7

On my knees, I blew my husband in an act of contrition and penance. I
did it to acknowledge how grievously I had overlooked his sexual needs
and desires over the years and how selfishly I had always pursued my
own pleasure and sexual gratification. As I licked and sucked, my
tears continued to fall, salting his penis, mixing with his pre-cum
and my saliva. I made his groin my singular focus, worshipping glans
and shaft and balls with lips, tongue and gentle stroking fingers.

David’s fingers ran through my hair, grasping the back of my head. His
hips thrust towards my face and I did my best to take him in as far as
I could manage. Gagging slightly as the head of his penis invaded the
very back of my throat. But there was no hesitation in me and I
welcomed this evidence of my desire for punishment.

“Oh fuck” I heard him whisper, prayerfully. I had never attempted a
deep throat of his cock and the entire experience must have been new
to him.

I moaned and continued my efforts to take David in even further. The
vibrations of my moans must have been communicated to David’s
sensitive cock-head as I felt his grip on my head tighten and the meat
in my grow suddenly rigid and hard.

I knew what that meant and I braced myself to take the full load of
his balls, another act that I had never done before, always afraid of
how I imagined semen to taste.

His cock in my mouth throbbed once, twice and then a warm salty thick
fluid flooded my mouth. I had no time to register the flavour profile
as I instinctively started swallowing as fast as I could. The
convulsions of my throat as I swallowed his semen served to further
milk more pearly drops of semen from his penis, aided by my hand which
was gently massaging his scrotum, further encouraging David to
completely empty himself and any residual frustrations in me.

I gave one last suck of his manhood, and released his penis with a
popping sound. I sat down in happy satisfaction that I had given my
husband pleasure. David bent down and pulled me up and into a tight
embrace. He kissed me roughly, desire and need evident, completely
ignoring the fact that I must still have had some taste of his
man-juice in my mouth.

“I love you.” He said. “I always will”. Which to me meant that I had earned his forgiveness.
But all further thoughts fell away as he carried me in his arms in the
classic “carry the bride across the threshold” manner. And indeed I
felt like a newly married bride as he carried me to the bedroom and
laid me down on the bed.

He covered me, still naked, with the comforter and spooned against my
back, one arm protectively around me, cupping my breast. Enveloped in David’s protective embrace, I resolved henceforth that I would be a model wife to my man.

With that, all the events of that evening finally caught up with me
and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I didn’t even notice when David slid out of the bedsheets, grabbed his
phone, tip-toed furtively to the bathroom and started to message
someone.

To be continued…

---

“My Wife Rediscovers Her Sexuality In the Hands of a Stranger” Part 3.

Notes from the author: In Part 1, I watched a stranger massage my wife and bring her to an explosive orgasm. It was a cuckold’s dream come true to see my petite wife submit to the firm hands of the tall Greek man I had hired to come to our villa to massage my wife. Part 2 was written from Amy’s perspective as she was fucked by Simon’s massive cock as I watched from the sideline. Part 3 returns to my perspective and will deal with the aftermath of this pivotal event which fundamental re-shaped Amy’s mindset with regard to sex. But I’m getting ahead of myself – S

——————–

CHAPTER 1.

[David’s perspective]

I was still tingling with unspent desire as the memory of the night’s action kept replaying in my mind – Amy’s vagina invaded by a stranger’s cock and her violent climax at the assault. Now Amy lay in my arms, completely exhausted. Her face looked completely at peace, as though she had surrendered every care and worry along with any sexual inhibitions she carried before tonight. She actually started to snore a little! It was adorable.

I carefully extracted my body from our embrace and tip-toed out of the bedroom at our Airbnb villa, grabbing my phone along the way from off the nightstand.

“She’s asleep.” I texted Simon’s number. “I don’t think she’s going to wake anytime soon. I can’t believe how many times you made her cum.”

Simon’s reply came back quickly. “Good. Let her sleep. She will need her strength for tomorrow.”

“So we are proceeding as we discussed?” I confirmed.

“Yes.” One word, pregnant with possibilities.

I thought back to how this all started…

———————

CHAPTER 2.

“Hi Simon, this may be a strange request, but I would like to hire you to come and massage my wife.”

I must have written and cancelled that Whatsapp message more than eight times before hitting ‘send’. Desire and fear waging war in my mind. I had always been intrigued by the idea of a woman having sex with other men, even multiple men. I only learned later from online forums that this was a common male and female fantasy and often played out in multiple porn movie scenarios. I think the reason I was so fascinated by it was that it acknowledged the female capacity to have multiple orgasms in a single sex session, whereas the majority of men lost the ability to engage in sexual intercourse without a refractory period to recover. In my mind, if sex was pleasureable, why wouldn’t a person want to experience the pleasure over and over again? I imagined therefore that women, if they were honest with themselves, would welcome sexual penetration with multiple men. I believed that the only thing really holding them back was fear and social conditioning that said that women who engaged in sex with multiple sex partners, much less women having sex with more than one person in a single session were sluts, immoral, debased, etc.

My wife, Amy, certainly seemed like one such repressed person. She was the type of woman that insisted on wearing a bra all the time, even just to leave the house to run errands. I had told her many times that there was nothing obscene about going bra-less under her clothes, which, at home, usually consisted of t-shirts and comfortable shorts. But she was adamant in wearing a bra when out of the house, even when there was no risk of zhao geng (“Running Light”). In my view, this was a shame as I always felt that Amy had very nice breasts. Though they were not overly large, they were firm and pert and had zero sag.

So I consoled myself with fantasising. In time I came across websites and porn sites that showed off themes of cuckcolding, candaulism and hotwifing. It was like I had found the answer to questions I had always been searching for. I was envious of husbands who had convinced their wives to engage in a bit of casual exhibitionism, who reported how it had made their wives more horny and eager for sex. Deep down, I wished that I could convince Amy to do something similar.

To be fair, it is not that Amy did not give in to my sexual desires. Indeed, when we were first dating we indulged in many sessions of public displays of affection, kissing and even heavy petting. I remember the thrill that it used to bring due to the danger and possibility of being caught. Till today Amy did still indulge me during special occasions like my birthday, when I asked her to wear something a bit more revealing on our couple’s nights out. But I could tell that she mostly did it to humour me and was not herself that into it. As we got older, I started to resign myself to never acting on my urges to have my wife put on display for another man and to have another man touch my wife in a sexual manner.

That is until I came across a website while browsing for holiday destinations. Amy and I had always wanted to go to Greece for a holiday, it was our dream destination when we first started dating. But life and kids just got in the way. Until we finally decided to take the plunge and booked a trip coinciding with our wedding anniversary. Greece promised a getaway full of sandy beaches, ancient monuments and amazing culture. I looked up holiday villas and famous beaches, several of which I noted catered to nudism. I also looked up massage spas that catered to couples, thinking that it might be a good way to get my wife to break free from her usual social constraints.

Simon’s website was quite simple and bare, unlike some of the other more gaudy sites that I came across. It was really only one part that caught my eye and that was where Simon promised that he could help to unlock any woman’s libido through a combination of massage, tantric breathing techniques and sensual/erotic foreplay. That sounded like exactly what I wanted. Simon communicated via whatsapp, so it was a simple matter to drop him a note, seeking more information on whether he catered to couples seeking a more thrilling holiday.

Simon responded almost immediately.

“Tell me about your wife. What is her personality like? What does she like to do in bed? Where does she like to be touched? Does she have any fantasies?” He had asked.

“My wife is quite conservative like most Asians and a little shy. She doesn’t like to express her sexual desires so I don’t really know what kind of fantasies she has. She does enjoy being touched and caressed but she seldom initiates sex and so sometimes I feel like she only does it with me to make me happy.” was my reply.

“But she listens to commands, yes? She lets the man take charge in the bedroom?” Simon enquired further.

“Yes, she does. She generally goes along with what I ask of her. For certain things like cunnilingus and fellatio she needs to either be a little drunk or really horny to tolerate it but we’ve managed to do it a few times.” It seemed that I was trying to justify my own sexual proficiency to Simon.

“Good, good. I think I can bring out her innermost desires. Actually all women are simple. Most of them just need to be given permission from their man. Once they feel the freedom, they will start to express their sexuality freely.” Simon replied. “Does she like being restrained? Is she into roleplay?”

“We’ve never really tried roleplay. I don’t know how to create and share with her the roleplay scenario. But I think she does like being held down. There have been a few times during sex when I’ve held her hands down while making love to her and she seemed to be more excited and to get her orgasm earlier.”

“Good. Good. That sounds promising. Send me a picture of her so that I can start to think up a possible scenario for our session. I charge 150 Euros for the massage and an extra 100 Euros for every additional hour we extend after that.”

So I would minimally be out 250 Euros, not exactly cheap even with the stronger Singapore dollar. But if it led to Amy breaking free of her sexual inhibitions, I considered it money well spent.

I agreed to Simon’s fees and sent him a picture of Amy taken during one of our past vacations. Amy was in a swimsuit and lounging at the beach in Tioman.

“Your wife is beautiful. I think she will respond very well to the session.” was Simon’s reply.

————————–

CHAPTER 3.

Over the next few weeks Simon and I firmed up our plans. All I really needed to do was to set aside two hours in the late afternoon on one of the days of our trip. Simon shared that he would start with a normal massage to loosen Amy up and if he found her receptive, he would then proceed to try to arouse her sexually. If she responded positively to all this, he said that he would love to fuck my wife while I watched and that this would be the first step to releasing her sexual inhibitions. Simon said that if my wife enjoyed the sex, he would then proceed with the next stage, which was to get her to open up sexually even in public settings and to really push her sexual boundaries. This, I had already confessed to Simon, was my biggest fantasy. 

Fast forward three months to the actual trip. Greece was everything we had hoped and more. Athens was full of history, beauty and quaint cafes, but it was Santorini and Crete, the largest of the Greek islands that were the real eye opener. While it was not the height of the tourist season, there were still many tourists from Europe, USA, South America and even some Asians – Koreans, Japanese and Chinese. And all the tourists seemed determined to make the most of their holidays by letting loose and partying. Beer was plentiful and Greek hospitality was second to none. Often, we ended meals with complimentary raki, which seemed to be a type of brandy, served by the owner of the restaurant. As we let our hair down during our travels, so too, I noticed, Amy started to loosen up and start to embrace her “vacation self”, aided no doubt by the anonymity we enjoyed as just one more tourist couple among many.

Even the way other tourists dressed was influencing Amy. In Europe it was common to see females walking around bra-less, and while most were still dressed modestly, there were many dressed in what would be considered immodest attire by Singaporean standards. By that I mean that many male and female tourists wore very loose knitted tops, designed to facilitate removal while sun-tanning at the beach. Some of the younger crowd walked around with bikini tops and shorts. Many men were topless, exposing their tanned chests. I saw more side boob, under boob and plunging necklines in the first five days on the islands than I had ever seen in my life to date. More importantly, everyone was so casual about it, no one was self conscious and no one batted an eyelid. I could sense that this was having an effect on Amy as she compared her more modest attire with those of other tourists. But I knew better than to prod her about it. Amy was nothing if not stubborn and would probably dig in her heels if I tried to suggest that she followed the adage “When in Rome…”.

I received a couple of messages from Simon, confirming our villa location and timing for the massage, but otherwise I tried to put the entire plan to entice my wife to loosen up at the back of my mind. It wasn’t difficult given how much fun we were having on our holiday. But finally the arranged for day arrived and the events unfolded in the manner I had already described in Part 1. With Amy lost in post-coital bliss, I had happily paid Simon the agreed upon sum for the first session, before gathering Amy up in my arms to carry her to the bathroom to rinse her off.

————–

CHAPTER 4.

The next morning I let Amy sleep in while I prepared our things for the day’s activities. This was our final full day in Crete and I wanted to have one final relaxing day at the beach. We had already seen Elafonissi Beach the previous day, which was a marvellously huge beach with hints of pink sand caused by the crushed shells of corals and microorganisms in the sand. Today I wanted to find one of the more remote beaches on the Southernmost coast of Crete, Anidri Beach, which aside from being quieter and less ‘touristy’ than Elafonissi, held the promise (at least according to Google), of being ‘naturist friendly’. For anyone who is not aware of what that means, it refers to beaches and public areas that allow public nudity.

I made sure that the beach towels, beach mat, sun tan lotion and other necessary things were stowed in our rental car and put together a simple breakfast consisting of some bread and jams we had purchased at the local grocer and boiled water to make tea. I also whisked some eggs to make omelettes for the both of us.

“Mmmm, something smells good.” Amy’s sleepy voice came from the bedroom.

Amy padded out of the bedroom in her nightie and the padded house slippers the AirBnB host had thoughtfully provided. She was the personification of ‘sleepy sexy’. She looked none the worse for wear from the previous night’s activities. Indeed she was practically glowing.

Amy hugged me from behind, pressing her round breasts against my back, one hand reached down and gave my manhood a reassuring grope. My cock reacted the way any man’s would, stiffening in response.

“Down boy” she teased, “we can play later.”

But I was not to be denied. Yesterday’s erotic session was still fresh on my mind. I turned and pulled Amy’s body to me. Grabbed her buttocks and lifted her body to rest her sex against my now-hard penis.

“I want you” I growled and kissed her hard.

Amy reciprocated with a sigh of contentment, winding her arms around my neck to help support her weight. I propped my wife’s ass on the kitchen counter top and ran my hands over her body, still clad in the nightie.

We made love on that counter, breakfast ignored for the moment. Her pussy felt warm and inviting as I eagerly pushed myself into her. Amy responded with more enthusiasm than usual, clearly she was also still affected by last night’s adventure. We kissed, groped and fucked like horny teenagers until I shuddered and came. Amy cried out in her own climax and then she did something she had never done before – she dropped to her knees and took my softening cock into her mouth and sucked me clean.

“Babe, that feels amazing.” I managed to gasp out in surprise.

Amy stood back up and seemed very pleased with herself. “Just saying ‘thank you’ to the little guy.” she announced. “I’m famished, let’s eat.”

We ate the food I had prepared and I swear it was the best tasting breakfast I had had in a while. I shared with Amy my plans for the day, but left out the little nugget of information about the nude beach policy of Anidiri Beach. I told Amy that since we would be hanging out at the beach most of the day, she could just wear her swimsuit underneath a wrap/cover and that there was no need to bring a change of clothes. We would come back to the villa before heading out again for dinner.

I had already put on a simple loose cotton button-up shirt and some shorts. I wore my swim trunks in lieu of underwear. Amy went back into the bedroom to get ready and it didn’t take long for her to bounce back out wearing a light blue loose beach wrap over a simple white two-piece bikini. This bikini was something I had bought specially for Amy for the trip, and it was a lot skimpier than the one-piece swimsuits that she usually preferred to wear. I was actually surprised that she chose to wear it because she had complained initially that it showed too much skin and so far she had only worn her other swimsuits that she had brought along for the trip.

[Close approximations of what Amy wore to the beach]

“Looking good babe” I teased. Admiring her body silhouette which showed through the thin material of her wrap. The tiny bra cups of her bikini were only sufficient to cover her nipples, areolae, and a small portion of her breasts. The shape and swell of her breasts could be clearly seen. The bikini bottom was equally brief, a single string lost within her butt crack and the barest of fabric covering the front of her sex.

Our hands were all over each other as we got into the car and started driving down to the beach. We had rented a small convertible Fiat 500 cabriolet and had taken the chance to put the roof down. The wind from our passage played peekaboo with Amy’s wrap, giving tantalising glimpses of her smooth and creamy flesh ever so often. Any other taller vehicle, including bigger commercial trucks, driving next to us no doubt had an eyeful of my wife, barely covered up in a revealing white bikini. This was not speculation on my part as we received several honks and catcalls from other drivers in the 30 plus minutes it took to reach the beach.

————-

CHAPTER 5.

Anidiri Beach is located about two kilometers east of the southern town of Palaichora. Being on the south coast, the water was warmer and more tropical. We found a safe and secluded spot to park the car and carried our things down the beach, looking for a reasonably empty patch of beach to set up our small shelter. It was already past the peak of the tourist season, so the beach was not too crowded, maybe only a half dozen locals lounging on beach mats or strolling along the surf line. Some who looked like northern European tourists taking shelter under beach umbrellas that had been set up.

We managed to find a relatively quiet spot with some slight shade from a crop of palm trees. The sand was a mix of larger sand and pebbles, quite unlike the finer sand you would typically find at East Coast and Sentosa. But with the mat that we brought along, it was perfectly comfortable.

Amy was quick to strip off her cover. I suppose she didn’t want to run the risk of it getting sandy. She seemed completely at ease in her bikini, a new found carefree freedom to her movements that I attributed to the holiday setting as well as the sexual liberation that she seemed to be embracing.  I too stripped down to my trunks and we both lay down for a bit, enjoying the warm sand and gentle bathing glow of the sun.

Before too long Amy nudged me with the bottle of suntan lotion, clearly signalling for me to apply lotion to her body. I took the bottle of lotion from her as she turned to lie face down with a sight of contentment.

I wasted no time lathering my hands with the lotion and applying it to her back, applying it liberally on her bare shoulders, back and arms.  I then switched lower and started applying lotion to her legs. Amy must have enjoyed what I was doing because I could hear her steady breathing quicken as my hands started straying closer and closer to her inner thighs, in imitation of Simon’s massage yesterday.

“Mmmm, dear, you are so naughty.” She said playfully, which was certainly not a rejection.  I took that as permission to go further. I undid the string holding her bikini top, fully exposing her smooth back. I also untied the two knots holding her bikini bottom together. Essentially Amy was no longer clothed and only the fact that the front of her body was pressed on to the mat kept her from exposing her breast and pubes to all and sundry.

Having gotten rid of all impediments, I re-applied lotion to my palms and proceeded to fully apply lotion to all exposed crevices of my wife. I paid special attention to her firm ass cheeks also deep into her ass crack. I could tell Amy was into it as her body started to squirm and I could hear her making panting noises as her breath came in gasps.

“Oh god, I can’t believe that you are touching me again after last night. You are so evil. You keep teasing your poor wife.”

But I could tell that she was not really objecting. Even as her mouth expressed her unwillingness to be felt up again, her legs opened voluntarily to give me better access between the v of her thighs. In spreading her legs apart, anyone walking by would have been treated to an unobstructed view of her vagina. But clearly Amy was beyond caring.

Needing no further invitation I dove in with my fingers. Rubbing the outer lips of her labia and teasing the small bump of her clitoris.

“OH FUCK!” Amy blurted out. Not caring if anyone could hear her. I looked around and realised that while there wasn’t anyone in immediate earshot, there were two young men further down the beach strolling along the waters edge. They were headed in our direction and would likely come within earshot in just a couple of minutes.

Knowing that Amy would not have seen the two men, I continued rubbing my wife’s pussy, but less urgently than before. I wanted to give the young men time to get closer before pushing Amy over the edge. Pretty soon they were within near enough that I could make out their features. They looked like local Greeks, maybe around early to mid twenties. Dark hair and tanned bodies. They were both shirtless, which seemed to be common for beach goers here.

As they came closer I could see that they were angling in our direction. They were definitely curious about this Asian couple sprawled out on the beach. When they were close enough, I saw one elbow the other and point at us. Then he made the universal gesture of fucking to his friend and I knew that he had cottoned on to what we were doing.

When I knew that I had the attention of the two young men, I beckoned them closer and put one finger to my lip to signal them to come closer but to be quiet. The men needed no urging, hurrying forward to get a closer look. Their bare feet in the sand made no noise and they crept within 3 meters of Amy and crouched down to watch the action.

All this time Amy had been groaning and moaning in pleasure. The combination of suntan lotion and her natural juices combined to make her entire ass slick and lubricated. Now that I had secured my audience I started increasing the speed of my fingering and probing. Penetrating Amy with one and sometimes two fingers.

“Oh god yes. That’d fucking good. Fuck me with those fingers.” exclaimed my wife. I felt a sudden gush of extra lubrication and Amy’s vagina spasmed around my fingers. She was cumming!

It wasn’t a massive climax like the ones she had last night, but still must have done the trick. Amy’s body clenched up one last time and then she collapsed in satisfaction.

“Turn over babe, we still need to do the front.” I said. Amy groaned but obediently propped herself up a little so that she could turn over on to her back.

Not wanting to give her a chance to wear back her bikini, I snatched them away the moment she lifted her body. Amy seemed to want to protest, but instead rolled her eyes and continued her turn.

And froze.

By turning over, she made immediate eye contact with the two young men who had just watched her get fingered and climax. Amy turned bright red in embarrassment.

“David! Why did you do that to me knowing that there were people watching!” Her hands went protectively to cover her chest and pussy.

“You didn’t seem to mind while I was doing it.” I said, acting innocent while probably looking like the cat that managed to eat the canary.

“I didn’t know they were there!” Amy protested.

“Don’t worry about them, they are just curious. If they want to watch, let them.” I played cool, hoping against hope that Amy wouldn’t react badly.

Amy gave me a very pointed look and I thought to myself that the game was up and she was going to demand her clothes back and call an end to the fun and games.

Instead, Amy surprised me once again. “Fine! If you don’t mind showing your wife off to the whole world, so be it! Just don’t regret!” and laid back down face upon the mat.

I almost stopped breathing. Amy had never been this bold and brazen before. I didn’t want to say anything else that might break the spell. I picked up the bottle of lotion, wondering if I should finish the job.

Amy looked at me and saw the bottle of lotion in my hand. She arched her eyebrow at me and declared. “Not you. Them.”

I understood what she meant. I gestured to the first man, holding out the bottle of lotion and pantomimed applying sunscreen. He was quick, I give him credit, picking up our intention immediately. He scooted forward and took the bottle of lotion from me, squirted a generous helping onto his palm and kneeled down beside my wife and started applying lotion.

He was smart for sure because he didn’t immediately go for her private parts the way a horny teenager might. Instead he showed remarkable self restraint by applying sunscreen to her shoulders first and her exposed midsection. He also made sure to cover her arms and legs as well.

Amy however didn’t seem to appreciate his chivalrous restraint. She grabbed his hands and planted them right on top of both of her boobs. The guy needed no further urging and understood that permission had been granted.

His buddy also recognised the opportunity that was presented. I found myself politely shouldered aside as the other guy took up the same kneeling position on the opposite side of my wife. He quickly oiled up his palms with sun tan lotion and went straight for my wife’s breasts.

Once again I found myself a bystander as someone else, in this case two someone elses, were groping and pleasuring my wife.

————

CHAPTER 6.

Amy sighed in deep contentment as the two fit young men started stroking and caressing every inch of her body. Her own hands were not idle either. They danced over the firm muscles of both men kneeling on either side of her. It didn’t take her long before her hands found their true objective. The male members dangling between their legs. I watched Amy rub the groins of both men through their shorts while they continued their exploration of her body.

Amy was so turned on that her body was writhing on the mat. She coo’ed in soft approval as both men fondled their preferred targets, one was groping her breasts, while the other one was exploring her sex below. Neither man spoke, intent only on their mission to get my wife to submit her pleasure to them.

We were lucky the beach was not crowded, otherwise by this time Amy would have had a whole crowd of onlookers drawn over by her cries of pleasure.

It didn’t take long for Amy to reach another orgasm under the combined assault from two men simultaneously. Amy cried out loudly in pleasure and squirted copiously over the hands of the man rubbing her vagina.

Both men stood up and divested their shorts. Their penises were average sized for men of their stature. Amy seemed to understand what was required of her. She knelt between both men and took one penis in each hand and started stroking them off.

Both men must have felt that they had struck the lottery. Imagine a pretty Asian woman holding a penis in each hand and stroking both of them in a pornstar worthy performance. One of the men blurted out something that sounded like “Moo ah-REH-see, TOH-soh po-LEE”. I googled it later and it translated to something like “this feels amazing”.

Amy may not have understood the words, but she clearly sensed the effect she was having on the men. My breath caught in my throat as I saw my demure asian wife take the penis of the man on her right into her mouth and started sucking him off. The guy, who said his name was Yiannis, threw his head back and groaned in ecstacy. Amy then switched over to the other man, who told us his name was Giorgos, and did the same.

Amy started alternating between both men’s penises, eventually coating both with her thick saliva. Having properly lubricated both cocks, I could see Amy attempt to draw them further into her throat. I didn’t even think Amy knew what a deep throat blowjob was, but she must have been operating on some deep instinct, because she was pushing herself to go further and further with each switch.

Amy’s hands were not idle either. Each hand cupped one set of balls. Squeezing gently and lovingly in an attempt to draw out the male seed they carried.

It didn’t take long. Yiannis, the first guy who took the sun tan lotion from me, surrendered first. I saw him tense up and his eyes rolled to the back of their sockets as his penis spewed out ejaculate, catching Amy’s cheek and neck, and raining down on her chest, coating her breast.

Giorgos was not far behind. He grabbed Amy’s head between both hands and started mouth fucking my wife. Amy choked and started to gag but before she could throw up, Giorgos buried his shaft deep into my wife’s throat and unloaded directly down her throat. Amy sputtered and made frantic attempts to disengage, but could only swallow helplessly while caught in Giorgos’ vice grip. Her eyes welled up in tears and she finally managed to push Giorgos away and grab a few deep breaths.

Giorgos seemed deeply apologetic. But his English was not proficient enough for him to explain himself. All he could get out was “Sorry. Lee-pah-mai.” He seemed genuinely upset at the thought that he might have caused harm to my wife.

Bowing in profuse apology both men decided that it might be better to beat a hasty retreat. I bent over Amy in concern.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” I asked.

“No. I’m okay. He just surprised me, that’s all.” Amy managed to cough out. “I felt like I was being suffocated. I couldn’t breathe” she explained.

“Let’s get you washed up then” I said. Kind of regretting the unfortunate turn of events.

Amy squeezed my hand gratefully and walked gingerly over to the water and started to wash off Yiannis’ semen from her body. The water was still quite cold this late in the year so neither of us lingered with the ablutions.

Once Amy had made herself presentable, we walked back to where the car was parked. There was a food stall next to the carpark which served both alcohol as well as local Greek food. We both ordered souvlakis which came with a side of fries as well as a margarita each.  I kept glancing at Amy, trying to ascertain if she was really okay.

“Stop staring” Amy said. “I’m okay. Really.”

I admired how tough and resilient my wife was and said nothing further. The food was amazing, seasoned with spices and herbs. The fries were hot and the margaritas were strong. Pretty soon Amy was back to her usual cheerful self.

“I didn’t think I could have done that.”

She didn’t elaborate but I knew that Amy was referring to her giving blowjobs to two strangers. Indeed, as far as I was aware, I was the only man she had given a blowjob to. So to go from giving head to one man who was her husband straight to taking on two strange men at once was certainly a big step up.

“So why did you decide to do it?” I probed.

“It just seemed right.” was her response. She paused, realising that her brief comment probably didn’t explain anything. “I had two cocks staring me right in the face and they seemed to want something from me. Licking them and putting them in my mouth just seemed like the right thing to do.” was her attempt to explain it better.

“Well you looked really hot while you were giving them simultaneous hand jobs. You looked like a professional.”

“Are you saying I looked like a pornstar?” Amy questioned, a bit sharply.

“I’m saying that you looked like you were in your natural element. I think that may be what you meant when you said that it just felt right.” was my analysis.

“It is strange, but I actually enjoyed it. Even that last bit at the end.” Amy confessed.

My eyes must have looked round like saucers. “You enjoyed being choked?” I sputtered.

“A little. When he grabbed my head and started thrusting his dick down my throat, it surprised me. But I was not scared. I could feel myself getting turned on. I think it felt good to me that I managed to get a guy so turned on that he couldn’t control himself and had to fuck me violently like that. Do you think there is something wrong with me?” Amy paused and looked at me, expecting condemnation and rejection.

“Babe, of course not. There is nothing wrong with enjoying sex, even rough sex.” I said as soothingly as possible. “I think too often we let society condition us into thinking that sex is dirty and as a result we try to make certain forms of sexual pleasure taboo because it helps us feel less ashamed about what turns us on.”

“So what turns you on?” Amy enquired.

I found myself confessing to Amy all my sexual desires. How I enjoyed fantasies in which a woman has sex with multiple partners, sometimes unwillingly. How I enjoyed the thrill of seeing another man lust after my wife. How I was sometimes turned on by the thought of other men reducing her to nothing more than a sexual plaything. Amy listened to it all, and far from pulling away from me, as I feared, I found her leaning in to hear me describe scenarios in which I had imagined her having illicit sex with strangers, situations in which I had imagined deliberately exposing my wife in public to the gaze of strangers, etc. Far from being repulsed, Amy seemed a little turned on by the descriptions I provided of her servicing multiple men with mouth, pussy and ass. Could it be that she found such thoughts equally arousing?

In return Amy admitted that she hadn’t really thought about what she liked to do while having sex but she did enjoy it when she caught other people ogling her. It felt good, she said, to know that other men desired her and wanted her body. She ended by saying that she really wanted to explore more sexually, but only if I would be with her through each encounter.

This was probably one of the most honest conversations I had ever had with another human being and it forged a renewed bond between me and Amy. As we paid for our meal and made our way back to our rental car, I hugged Amy close to me and she hugged me back. Unspoken desire filled the space between us and we found ourselves kissing each other madly the moment we were safely enclosed in the car. Eventually we had to stop as I knew we had a schedule to keep (A surprise for Amy!). I googled for map directions to the Anidri Gorge, a nearby hiking trail. We parked our car and started exploring the gorge. The terrain was rough but the trail was easy to follow. We seemed to be the only people on the trail and that made the hike almost like an adventure. The steep sides of the gorge limited our view of the surroundings and it was like we had entered a different world.

About a half hour into the hike we rested on a large flat rock. Both of us had worked up a fair bit of sweat and it felt good to stop and rest up before deciding if we wanted to press on further. Given how little contact we had had with another human being throughout this whole hike, I was feeling a little bold and frisky. Pulling Amy close, I started to fondle her body through her clothes.

Amy hissed at me, “what if someone comes!”

“There’s no one here. Don’t be a scaredy cat.” I said, as my hands ran insistently over her breasts. I wasn’t playing fair. Amy groaned but gave in. Perhaps hoping to get things over with quicker, she pulled her cover off over her head and undid the ties of her bikini. Soon, she was as naked as the day she was born. With her hands on her hips, she gave me a challenging look, as though daring me to match her state of undress. I didn’t need further encouragement and joined her in getting nude. There we were, two naked asians perched on top of a flat piece of granite. I bent Amy over and made her assume the position of a felon being searched – palms flat against the wall of rock, body bent forward into an almost ninety degree angle, her ass stuck out at the perfect level for a standing doggie.

I stepped behind her, my hands gripping her hips to pull her back against me. Amy leaned forward, bracing her palms against the rough vertical face of the gorge, her back arching deeply. As I entered her, there was barely any resistance—she was already slick and ready for me. Every thrust caused our bodies to collide with a wet, rhythmic slap that echoed off the canyon walls like applause. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes wide and primal, urging me to go harder, shedding the last remnants of her proper Singaporean self.

Amy’s cries rose higher above the sound of our love making. She had forgotten her earlier fears about being discovered. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” she vocalised. It was a sweet symphony to my ears. From standing doggie we shifted to the wall carry. Neither of us minded the slightly rough stone wall, too caught up as we were in the throes of passion. Amy in particular loved this position as it changed the angle of my thrust in ways that she found quite pleasurable.

“OH! YES! FUCK ME HARDER!” she cried.

I pulled her away from the rock and sank onto a lower ledge. I hoisted her onto my lap, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist. In this position, we were chest-to-chest, her breasts crushed against my skin as she moved with a newfound, aggressive hunger. I could feel her internal muscles clenching around me, a direct result of the liberation she’d felt earlier on the beach. We kissed deeply, our tongues battling as I gripped the back of her head, mimicking the intensity Giorgos had shown her.

When my back got tired, we shifted to the cowgirl position. Amy rode me like a woman possessed. Her breast were bouncing in coordination with her hips. When I sensed my climax approaching, I half sat up and latched on to her breast and sucked like my life depended on it. This sent Amy over the edge and she screamed her climax as we collapsed in a sweaty pile.

Finally, I laid her back against the slope of the granite. I grabbed her ankles and pushed her knees toward her shoulders, leaving her completely open and exposed to the Greek sky. The vulnerability of the position seemed to ignite something in her; she let out a loud, uninhibited cry that surely carried through the entire gorge. I watched the play of muscles in her thighs and the way her “ruby” nipples harden in the cool mountain air. With a final, desperate surge, I felt her vagina spasm in a powerful climax, and I followed her over the edge, marking her skin with the heat of our shared release.

“Fuck, that was amazing!” she finally gasped after a period of recovery.

—————

CHAPTER 7.

We didn’t stay long in the gorge after that. The adrenaline was still humming under my skin as we climbed back into the Fiat. The drive back to the villa was quieter than the trip down; the wind was still playing with Amy’s hair, but her gaze was fixed on the passing olive groves.

“You’re thinking about Giorgos,” I said softly over the engine’s hum.

Amy didn’t look away, but a small smile played on her lips. “I’m thinking about how it felt to lose control. I didn’t think I’d like being forced like that, David. But seeing him that desperate for me…” She trailed off, her hand resting on her thigh, still tinged pink from the sun.

I reached over and squeezed her hand.

Amy let out a long, shaky breath, her eyes fixed on the turquoise horizon of the Aegean Sea. “I’m still just… processing. That thing Giorgos did at the beach – grabbing my head, forcing me to take all of him…”. She paused, a slight flush creeping up her neck. “I should have been angry. I told you I felt suffocated. But David, the moment he let go, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be overpowered again.”.

“It’s the ‘vacation self’ we talked about,” I replied, my voice dropping lower. “You’re letting go of the Singaporean social conditioning that says you have to be ‘proper’. Seeing you submit to those two Greeks – seeing them lose their minds over you – was the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”.

Amy turned to look at me, her gaze searching. “You really loved it?? Even when they came all over me?”.

“Especially then,” I confessed, feeling my pulse quicken. “My biggest fantasy has always been seeing you pushed to your limits by a man who doesn’t have to be ‘polite’ with you. Someone like Simon.”.

I decided to update her on the plans for the evening, “Tonight is our last night. I want to keep that feeling going. I’ve asked Simon to meet us at the villa before we head out for a final celebration”.

She turned to me then, her eyes wide but not fearful. “He’s coming over?”

“We’ll have a bit of time to ourselves, but he’ll be at our villa right before dinner,” I promised.

By mid afternoon we were back at the villa. The villa felt different now—less like a rental and more like a venue for performances. I suggested we use the jacuzzi to help her relax. Without my prompting, Amy stripped fully again and entered the jacuzzi completely nude. I needed no further encouragement and proceeded to likewise strip and join her. The warm jacuzzi water lulled both of us into a semi-sleepy state and we drifted in happy contentment as the sun dipped towards the horizon.

It was perhaps almost an hour later that I heard a car pull up to our villa. I heard the slam of a car door and saw the large shadow cast by our Greek masseur rounded the side of the house from the front porch. Simon’s massive frame appeared around the corner of the house and I saw him stop and stare appraisingly at the sight of Amy lying in the jacuzzi, her eyes closed in contentment. Apparently she had not heard the sound of Simon’s car.

“Am I disturbing?” Simon’s deep voice sounded out.

Amy jerked in surprise on hearing Simon’s voice and she turned in Simon’s direction. Belatedly she realised that she wasn’t wearing any clothes and she blushed a shade of pink from head to toe. Amy sputtered a little, apparently bereft of words. I guess she had realised that she had come out to the jacuzzi completely naked and there was nothing available to cover herself up with.

Simon, ignoring my wife’s discomfort, stretched out a hand in gentlemanly courtesy to my wife. “Amy, it’s good to see you again.” he said. Did I detect an unusual emphasis on the word ‘see’?

Amy must have heard it too, because she blushed a shade redder. But taking Simon’s proffered hand, she let him help her to stand up and step out of the jacuzzi. Simon’s massive paw completely engulfed Amy’s daintier hand and I was once again struck by the difference in size between the two of them.

Amy’s teeth started chattering, she must have been cold now that she was out of the water, but somehow she made no move to head into the villa. Instead she continued standing, displaying her body to Simon’s eager gaze, her hand held in Simon’s, as he looked her up and down with hungry eyes. Amy’s nipples stood out hard like red rubies. Whether because of the cold or because Simon’s presence triggered her arousal I couldn’t say. Probably both. Normally I would have expected Amy to try to cover her body with her hands, but this time she made no attempt, seemingly content to suffer Simon’s visual inspection for as long as it lasted.

But Simon must have also realised that she was cold. Giving Amy’s nude body a final once-over, he wrapped her up in his arms and lifted her off her feet and headed towards the backdoor of the villa. I saw Amy snuggle against his broad chest and if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn that she purred like a cat in his arms.

I followed the couple into the house. The cold temperature did unfortunate things to my manhood and I must have looked like a castrated eunuch with how much my scrotum had retracted, seeking warmth in the depths of my belly.

Inside the villa the temperature was considerably warmer, but Amy was plainly in no hurry to extricate herself from Simon’s arms. Simon, on his part, carried Amy with seemingly no effort.

“So yesterday Simon and I were talking and I had shared with him that tonight was our final night in Greece. Simon said that we should do something special on our last night and offered to share a meal at his favourite local taverna.” I said, in an attempt to break the awkward moment.

Simon finally put my wife down, saying “Friends, tonight you are my guests. I will show you Greek hospitality. We will go, have good food and drink. I know a place.” One of Simon’s arms, I observed, was half hugging Amy close, in an almost possessive manner. Their bodies plastered together in an almost familial gesture.

“Amy, you should go change. Wear something nice since we are celebrating.” I instructed, which finally made Amy realise that she had been standing with two men while completely naked. She headed to the bedroom, closing the door behind her.  I picked up my bathrobe draped over a nearby chair and covered my own nakedness and asked Simon if he wanted a drink.

With his nod of assent, I poured Simon a small serving of brandy which we had bought at a local shop. We sat in comfortable silence while waiting for Amy to get ready. I wanted to ask Simon what the exact plans were for the evening and how he was going to further unlock Amy’s sexual liberation, but Simon had been rather coy about the details so far and didn’t seem inclined to share any further. All I knew was that Simon’s plans were intended to culminate in loosening my wife up. I decided that I would help move things along but turning this evening into a date night. However, instead of me and Amy, the date would be between Simon and Amy! My dick hardened in anticipation.

Amy didn’t keep us waiting long. Simon was only on his second pour of brandy when the bedroom door opened and I beheld a vision of beauty framed in the doorway. My breath caught as I beheld my wife. Clearly she had her own plans for the evening as well.

Amy came out in another outfit that I had bought specially for this trip. I had originally intended it to be used as something meant to spice up our bedroom activities during the trip and did not expect her to be willing to wear it on an evening out. The outfit consisted of a sleeveless jumpsuit. The bottom part was a pair of fitted boyshorts, almost like a pair of boxer briefs. This was connected to a single piece of fabric which covered Amy’s front, but left her sides open. The outfit had no sleeves and was basically held up by the collar while the rest of the fabric draped midway down the back.

[Amy’s jumpsuit outfit for dinner]

Amy posed in the doorway for our benefit.

“Babe, you look amazing!” I blurted out.

“You don’t think my thighs look fat in this?” Amy enquired.

“Nonsense, the shorts help to make your legs look longer and give you the impression of more height. They are perfect.”

But it seemed that Amy was more keen to know what Simon thought about her outfit. She strutted forward, hips swaying. “Would this be okay at the place we are going?” She directed her enquiry to Simon.

For the first time, Simon’s expression showed a degree of surprise at the boldness of my wife. But his features quickly transformed into a wide grin. “The owner is my friend and I know most of the people who will be there tonight, what you are wearing is good. Do not worry.”

“However,” he continued, his gaze snagged on the dark line of her black tube top visible through the side of her jumpsuit. “You should remove the bra you are wearing, it ruins the line of the fabric. It is… unnecessary.”

Simon was referring to the black tube top bra that Amy had put on underneath her outfit to prevent her nipples and the sides of her boobs from showing.

The old Amy would have withered under that directive, or perhaps looked to me for permission. Instead, this version of my wife – the one who had been handled by strangers on a beach only hours ago – simply tilted her chin up.

“Unnecessary?” She repeated, her voice steady.

“In Crete, we do not hide what is beautiful behind layers of cloth,” Simon replied, his arms folding across his chest. It was a challenge, a test of her new-found nerve.

Amy didn’t break eye contact. Slowly, she reached back and pulled the top fabric of the jumpsuit over her head, exposing her full torso. I held my breath, the air in the villa suddenly feeling heavy and charged.

With a fluid, almost bored shrug, she peeled the black tube top over her head. She didn’t turn away. She didn’t cover herself. She stood there in the centre of the room, her chest bared to the muted lights in the villa and to Simon’s unwavering state. Her nipples were already peaked, defiant and dark against her pale skin.

She dropped the bra onto the sofa like it was a piece of trash.

“Is that better?” She asked Simon. Her tone had a note of challenge.

Simon’s mask slipped for a fraction of a second – a quick flare of his nostrils, a tightening of his jaw. “Yes,” he said, his voice slightly raspier than before. “That is more acceptable.”

Amy wore back the rest of the jumpsuit. Without the scant protection of the tube top bra, the entirety of Amy’s breasts were on display from the side when she moved her arms. The gaps in the fabric offered fleeting, tantalising glimpses of her unrestrained breasts. The thin fabric also did little to hide Amy’s hard nipples. She looked at me and winked, a silent acknowledgement that she was no longer just a participant in my fantasy – she was the one directing the play.

I left Amy and Simon in the living room while I went into the bedroom and changed as well. I had no chance of competing with either Amy or Simon, one luminous beauty and the other a physically imposing tall man. So I settled for a simple loose cotton button up top and a pair of khaki shorts. I didn’t hurry, curious what Amy and Simon would get up to in my absence.

When I finally reappeared, I found Amy and Simon sitting on the living room couch like old friends. Amy had another glass of brandy in her hands, Simon must have poured her one while I was changing. Amy must have already had a fair amount of the brandy, because her body language was already looser and her skin was already flushed. Simon’s hand was stroking the back of Amy’s head and I noticed Amy’s hand lay on Simon’s thigh, lightly stroking.

My wife must have been buzzed enough that she didn’t even seem flustered to be caught in the close company of another man by her husband. Instead she continued sipping from her brandy while laughing at some comment that Simon had made.

“Ready to go?” I asked and the pair stood up, Amy a little unsteady but with Simon’s strong arms to lend support.

Thus began the most memorable night of our lives.

TO BE CONTINUED.

---

“My Wife Rediscovers Her Sexuality In the Hands of a Stranger” Part 4.

Notes from the author: In Part 3, Amy, my wife, had exposed her nude body to two local Greek men when we visited a beach while on holiday on the island of Crete. She had given hand jobs to both men simultaneously and had finished both of them off with blowjobs, even enduring a some rough play from one of them. Afterwards, I had stripped my wife while on a hike in a deserted gorge and we had sex in full view of anyone who might have happened to come by. The day was not over though, as Simon made a pre-arranged appearance at our villa, and Amy dressed up in her most provocative outfit yet. The action begins with our car ride to a local taverna that Simon was recommending. All part of a plan that Simon and I had formulated to make my dream come true: making my wife fully embrace a more sexually open outlook and behaviour. – S

——————–

CHAPTER 1.

[David’s perspective]

The drive to the taverna was a stark departure from our quiet coastal excursions. We travelled in our small rental car, bouncing over the unpaved mountain roads, the car cabin filled with the bass beats of a Greek pop song from a local radio station and the scent of Simon’s exotic cologne and Amy’s floral perfume.

Amy had climbed into the back seat, and Simon, instead of sitting up front with me, had joined her, leaving me alone in the front to make the drive using the address that Simon had supplied just before we got into the car.

Through the rearview mirror, I watched the pair. It would have been easy to mistake them as a couple out on a date, driven by some Uber driver.

The backseat was cramped, forcing them together. Simon didn’t shy away from the contact; he splayed his legs, his thick thigh pressing firmly against Amy’s. I saw her hand rest on the seat between them, and Simon slowly covered it with his own, his thumb tracing the line of her knuckles.

“You are tense, Amy,” Simon murmured, his voice cutting through the bass, reaching my ears. “Are you nervous about being seen?”

Amy tilted her head back, her throat exposed in the dim light of the cabin. “I’m a little nervous about being exposed like this in front of people I don’t know. But I’m also feeling a little excited? I have never done something like this before.”

Simon’s other hand reached up, his fingers sliding into the open side of her jumpsuit. I watched his rough hand disappear against the pale curve of her ribs, moving upwards until he found the underside of her breast. He didn’t attempt to hide his actions; he looked directly at me in the mirror as his hand cupped her. Amy let out a sharp, hitching breath, her back arching as she leaned into his touch.

“Good,” Simon whispered. “Excited is good.”

————–

CHAPTER 2.

The ride was fairly short, and by the time we arrived at the taverna, a white-washed stone building perched on a cliff side, Amy was flushed and breathless with desire. As she stepped out of the car, she didn’t wait for me. She took Simon’s offered arm. The pair headed into the taverna as I locked the rental car. Amy’s hips swayed as she walked. The thin fabric of her jumpsuit alternated between clinging to her body and fluttering in the light breeze that was blowing, revealing the absence of her bra with every movement.

The taverna was busy, though not fully packed. Simon was warmly greeted by an older Greek man who appeared to be in charge. We were ushered to a table at the further end of the dining area. I did not fail to notice more than a few heads turning in our direction as we made our way to a wide square table big enough for two people to sit on each side. Simon and Amy sat together, facing the rest of the tables in the large dining space. A handsome and beautiful couple displayed like a prize to the rest of the patrons. I took a seat perpendicular to the pair, which put Amy between me and Simon, and allowed me to watch both Simon and Amy, as well as the rest of the crowd.

The conversation around the room dipped appreciably as we sat down. The local men, all tanned and rugged looking, stared with unabashed hunger at the petite, elegant Asian woman who seemed to be wearing little more than a dare. There seemed to be a lot more men than women in the room, many of whom appeared to be there in a serving capacity, carrying food and drink to the various tables. One section of the dining hall was kept clear of tables, and there were some musicians stationed there as well, playing music to accompany the diners.

Despite her earlier nervousness, Amy didn’t shrink. She… blossomed. She caught the eye of a man at a nearby table and held it, a slow knowing smile spreading across her face. She leaned forward, intentionally letting the fabric of her jumpsuit top fall open, giving the patrons to the side and clear, unobstructed view of her breasts.

“They are looking at me, David,” she whispered in my ear, her voice buzzing with an almost manic energy. “They are all looking.”

“They can’t help it,” I replied, my own arousal a constant ache. “You’re the most beautiful creature in the room.”

Simon sat proudly on Amy’s other side, one arm possessively around Amy’s waist.

“You like the attention? You like that they are thinking of fucking you right here and right now?”

Amy shuddered in arousal at Simon’s crude and direct tone. “Yes, I love it.” She breathed.

Simon’s expression hardened into something more commanding. He reached down, his hand sliding under the hem of Amy’s jumpsuit shorts. He tugged the lacy fabric of Amy’s panties, the waistband of which had been on display the whole time given how low the shorts were on Amy’s jumpsuit.

“Then prove you are as bold as you look,” Simon commandeered, his voice a low growl. “Go to the restroom. Remove these. Bring them back and put them in my hand. I will keep them safe for the rest of the night.”

Amy froze for a second, her eyes wide as she looked from Simon to me. I nodded slowly, the thought of her walking through that crowded taverna completely exposed underneath her clothes sent a jolt of electricity through me.

“Go.” Simon repeated.

——————

CHAPTER 3.

Amy didn’t say a word. She stood up and walked through the crowd, her head held high. I watched as men turned to watch her pass, their eyes glued to the sway of her hips and other parts of her anatomy. 

As Amy disappeared toward the back of the taverna, Simon leaned back, his eyes following her with the casual confidence of a predator who knew the prey wasn’t going anywhere. I, however, felt a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety that made my pulse thrum in my ears.

Those five minutes felt like an hour. I looked down at my drink, my mind racing through the implications of what Amy was doing. ‘Is she really doing it?’ I wondered. ‘Is she standing in a cramped stall right now, stepping out of her lacy underwear?’’ The thought was intoxicating, but it carried a heavy edge of fear—the fear that I had pushed her too far, or worse, that she had moved beyond needing my permission entirely.

Without Amy at the table to anchor me, I felt painfully exposed. ‘They’re looking at me like I’m the one who doesn’t belong’, I thought, my knuckles whitening as I gripped my glass.

‘They see Simon, they see a beautiful woman who is clearly ‘available,’ and then they see me. Do they think I’m just a witness? Or do they see the thrill in my eyes and realize I’m the architect of my own undoing?’, I wondered..

When Amy reappeared a short while later, she didn’t immediately sit down. She walked straight to Simon, and held out a pair of red lacy panties. In front of the whole crowd, Simon took Amy’s panties from her outstretched hand and brought the fabric up to his nose and sniffed deeply, inhaling her scent.

The crowd let out an audible collective gasp. All pretence of not watching the events at our table abandoned in that moment.

Simon reached out with his free hand and ran it possessively up Amy’s bare leg to her round ass, covered now only by the thin stretchy fabric of the shorts of her jumpsuit.

“Good,” he announced. “Now we are ready to eat.”.  

As though that was a cue to the kitchen, food servers came over to our table and laid a generous spread of food in front of us.

I ate distractedly, half paying attention to the conversation between Amy and Simon. Amy was asking Simon about his background and whether he had always been a masseur. It turned out that Simon had previously been a construction foreman, which explained how he was in such  good shape but not overly muscle bound. However, when the Greek economy started experiencing troubles following the global financial crisis in 2008, the company he worked for started losing business. By the time Greece defaulted on their loan in 2015, the business was all but wound down and he had joined the ranks of the many Greeks who lost their job.

The only silver lining at that time was tourism. Greece was still a very popular vacation spot and so Simon had been a tour guide for a while. The money that brought in had been sufficient to keep him afloat. However COVID had once again devastated even that once regular source of income and he had had to dip heavily into his savings to tide through the COVID pandemic. When travel resumed, Simon had decided that he needed additional income streams in the event the world experienced another major upheaval and so he had started advertising his services as a male escort, masseur and, yes, gigolo to well-paying foreign tourists.

Amy sat entranced by Simon tale of woe. I also couldn’t help but admire the resilience of the people of Greece. Compared to the problems they had been having over the last 20 years, the issues that Singapore faced with our economy and inflation seemed almost trivial.

As though to demonstrate the Greek mental fortitude, Simon lifted his cup of clear retsina wine and announced a toast to me and Amy. “To new friends and better fortunes”, he declared, all trace of the more sombre mood gone in an instant.

Amy and I joined in the toast heartily. But what she said next almost made me choke on the wine.

“Maybe you should come to Singapore. I have a lot of friends who would like to get to know you.” Amy declared.

I genuinely couldn’t tell if she was being serious or just being tongue-in-cheek. But she seemed to be hinting that she would be sharing accounts of the past two days to her straight-laced friends. I could only imagine how some of them would react.

‘But maybe Amy knew them better?’ I wondered. It made me consider them in a different light.   

Then the next thought that flashed through my head, which really should have been the first thought was – ‘Amy is saying that given the chance she would want the pleasure of Simon’s company again.’

———–

CHAPTER 4.

I hadn’t realised how much of an appetite I had built up over the day, or else it was a testament to the superior quality of the food. Whichever the case, I ate with eager gusto, savouring all the varied and exotic flavours of the Greek and Mediterranean food laid out for us.

Amy and Simon ate more sparingly, drinking in each other’s company as their main nourishment. Simon fed Amy with food from his own plate. Amy literally ate out of his hand, often taking the food from between his fingers directly into her mouth and sucking the gravy and juices of the food that clung to his thick digits. The entire performance was charged with eroticism, but the pair made it seem like the most natural act in the world.

Throughout the meal, Simon had kept one hand around Amy’s waist. From my vantage point on Amy’s other side, I saw his fingers stroking the exposed skin of my wife’s waist, sometimes climbing higher to cup her exposed breast, other times rubbing the back of her shorts, just over the base of her spine where a hint of her ass crack showed, no longer protected by the fabric of her panties.

I could see Simon’s ministrations having an effect on Amy. Her breathing grew heavier and more languid, fueled in part by the amount of clear retsina wine she had already consumed. Her eyes grew heavy lidded and she leaned more and more on Simon.

But Amy was not fully drunk yet. Since she was not eating with her own utensils, her hands were free to roam, and they had come to rest on Simon’s thigh quite early when the food had first been served. She had been stroking his leg, even as his hands wandered over her body. Over the course of the meal, Amy’s hand had moved with clear intention closer and closer towards Simon’s groin and had eventually come to rest right over his manhood.

Amy’s hands were fully exploring Simon’s burgeoning penis through the material of his pants, and I watched as her fingers moved with a rhythmic, confident pressure that made Simon’s breath hitch in his throat. She wasn’t just touching him; she was claiming him right there in the middle of the crowded taverna. Every few seconds, she would look over at me, her eyes dark with a mixture of wine and pure, unadulterated lust, checking to ensure I was witness to her boldness.

“I think,” Simon said, his voice straining with effort as he gently caught Amy’s wrist to still her hand, “that if you continue this here, I will not be able to resist much longer and that would spoil the plans I have for the rest of the night.”

Amy laughed, a throaty, musical sound that drew the eyes of several men in the vicinity. She leaned in, her jumpsuit once again falling dangerously open as she whispered something into Simon’s ear, too soft for me to pick up, that made him grin.

But in answer to her whatever Amy had whispered in his ear, Simon then announced “Then let’s find a different way to use that energy,” He stood up and pulled Amy up to stand with him.

He didn’t look at me for permission; he simply led her toward the cleared portion of the room next to the musicians. The music had shifted into a faster, heavier, driving beat. On the dance floor, Simon stayed behind Amy, his hands roaming freely over her curves, pulling her jumpsuit tight against her body so that the shape of her nakedness was obvious to everyone in the room.The reactions from the local Greeks were immediate and visceral.

At a nearby table, a group of four younger men stopped their conversation entirely, their forks suspended in mid-air as they watched the way Amy’s hips moved. One of the men, tanned and rugged, leaned back and whispered something to his friends while gesturing toward the absence of a bra beneath Amy’s thin fabric. They weren’t just looking; they were mesmerised by the sheer audacity of her display.

Amy seemed to feed off their attention like a drug. She was a whirlwind of motion, grinding her hips back against Simon’s groin, her eyes closed in a trance of pure, unabashed exhibitionism. Her arms were raised above her head to cradle Simon’s head and the back of his neck. This fully exposed the sides of her jumpsuit and also thrust her breasts out.. She was no longer the reserved woman from Singapore; she had become the center of the taverna’s gravity, daring every man in the room to look—and daring me to keep watching.

————

CHAPTER 5.

I sat alone at our table, the half-empty glass of retsina a lukewarm weight in my hand. From my vantage point, the dance floor was a blur of movement and shadows, but my eyes were locked onto two figures: Simon, tall and dark, and Amy, a streak of pale silk and liberated energy.

Watching another man’s hands roam over my wife’s body was a sensation I had fantasised about for years, but the reality was sharper than I’d expected. A hollow ache formed in my chest as I watched Simon’s fingers dig into her hips, pulling her jumpsuit so tight against her backside that the lack of any underwear became a public declaration. Seeing her head tilted back, her eyes closed in a trance of pleasure that I wasn’t currently providing, sent a momentary surge of possessiveness through me. I felt like an outsider looking into a world I had helped create but no longer fully inhabited.

But then, Amy turned. She didn’t look at Simon; she looked at me. She caught my gaze through the crowd and smiled—a broad smile that wasn’t for the men at the bar, but purely for me, evoking memories of past dates we had shared in times long ago. In that moment, the jealousy was eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of pride. This was the woman who, forty-eight hours ago, would have been mortified by a stray bra strap showing in public. Now, she was the centre of attention who was daring an entire room of strangers to gaze on her exposed body. I felt a swell of triumph. I had wanted her to find her courage, to shed the “straight-laced” skin she’d worn for years, and here she was—radiant, brave, and utterly powerful.

As I watched from the table, the heavy, rhythmic thrum of the Greek music seemed to pulse in time with the heat radiating from the dance floor. Simon’s large hands, which had been roaming freely over the curves of Amy’s jumpsuit, suddenly tightened their grip. With a fluid, commanding motion, he spun her around in his arms so she was no longer grinding her back against him but was forced to face him head-on.The height difference was striking; Amy had to tilt her head back sharply to look up at him, her throat exposed and pale under the flickering lights of the taverna. Simon didn’t hesitate. He hooked a finger under her chin and pulled her flush against his chest, his massive frame almost swallowing her petite form.

Then, right there in the center of the room, he claimed her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn’t a gentle or tentative exchange. It was raw and hungry. I saw Amy’s hands fly up to his chest, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt as she stood on her tiptoes to meet his intensity. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire body leaning into him as if he were the only thing keeping her upright.The reaction from the crowd was a mixture of low whistles and a sudden, charged silence from the younger men who had been gawking earlier. They were no longer just looking at a beautiful tourist; they were witnessing a woman completely surrender to the moment.

Watching them, the sting of jealousy flared again, but it was quickly washed away by that same, sharp sense of triumph. I saw the way Simon’s hand slid down from her waist to cup the underside of her bare ass through the thin fabric of her jumpsuit—a move that made her leg hook around his thigh in a reflexive, desperate need for more friction.She was vibrant. She was scandalous. And as they finally broke the kiss, gasping for air while the music reached a crescendo, Amy looked directly over Simon’s shoulder and found my eyes. The look she gave me wasn’t one of apology; it was a challenge. She was showing me exactly what she had become, and she was loving every second of the spectacle.

As the music slowed to a low, rhythmic hum, Simon and Amy untangled themselves and made their way back to the table, though the space between them had all but vanished. Amy was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the thin, silk fabric of her jumpsuit, which was now damp with a fine sheen of sweat from her exertion. Her face was deeply flushed, a vibrant mix of physical exhaustion and the high-octane thrill of her public display.

Returning to their shared side of the table, Amy sat so close to Simon that she was practically in his lap, her thigh pressed firmly against his and her arm draped possessively over his shoulder. The straight-laced woman from Singapore seemed a distant memory; in her place was a woman who was radiating a raw, sexual energy.

From my vantage point, I watched as Amy leaned into Simon, her head resting on his chest while she tried to catch her breath. The sight of her so completely comfortable in the arms of a stranger—especially after the deep, hungry kiss they had shared on the dance floor—sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through me. The group of four younger men at the nearby table were still staring, their conversation forgotten as they tracked every movement of Amy and her lover. They looked at me with a mixture of confusion and envy, clearly unable to reconcile my quiet presence with the blatant exhibitionism of the woman who was clearly my wife.

Simon reached out, his large hand sliding up the side of Amy’s waist to rest on her ribs, his thumb tracing the curve of her breast as he looked at me. “She has a lot of fire,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to reach me even over the ambient noise of the taverna. “I think it is time we took that fire somewhere more… private”.

Amy looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with a mixture of wine and desire. She didn’t even appear to notice me any more, her eyes only for Simon. “I’m ready,” she whispered, her voice husky.

—————–

CHAPTER 6.

The group of four younger men from the adjacent table finally broke their mesmerized silence. One of them, the tanned and rugged leader who had been gesturing toward Amy’s braless jumpsuit earlier, called out to Simon a string of words in Greek. I couldn’t understand a single word, but the crude, mocking edge in his voice was unmistakable. It was the sound of a man who had seen enough to know the rules of proper society were being ignored at our table and wanted to push his way into the game.

Simon didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back, his arm tightening around Amy’s waist as a slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. He shot back a quick, sharp reply in the same tongue—only a few words, delivered with the casual authority of a man who owned the room. The younger men laughed, a mix of shock and appreciative hooting, as they finally turned back to their drinks, though their eyes never truly left Amy.

“What did they say?” I asked, my voice slightly tight. The spike of jealousy I’d felt on the dance floor was now mingled with a strange, soaring pride that my wife was the catalyst for such a scene. Simon looked at me, then down at Amy, who was watching him with wide, expectant eyes.

“They asked if my woman was as good in bed as she was on the dance floor,” Simon replied, his thumb lazily stroking the exposed skin of Amy’s waist. My breath caught.

“And what did you tell them?”

Simon’s grin widened. “I told them she fucks even better than she dances.”

Amy let out a small, sharp gasp, her face flushing even deeper than it had been from the exertion. She didn’t look offended; she looked electrified. She stared at Simon, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with a mixture of wine and pure, unadulterated lust. Gone was the shy reserved woman from Singapore who worried about what others thought; in her place was a woman who had just been publicly claimed and branded as a sexual force in a room full of strangers.

“Those men clearly want to fuck you.” I whispered at my wife, leaning in. “Are you enjoying their attention? If they asked you to fuck them all together, would you?”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she reached out and gripped my hand, her palm hot and damp, while her other hand disappeared beneath the table to find Simon’s thigh once more.

“I think,” Simon said, standing up and pulling Amy with him, “it is time we took this evening some place more private.”

Simon covered Amy’s shoulders and back with his coat, warm with his body heat and imbued with his masculine scent. By covering my wife he signalled to the room that the show was over and that he was reclaiming his property. The pair left the way they came in, bodies closely touching and Simon’s arm wrapped possessively around my wife. All that was left was for me to trail behind the lovers as we made our exit.

——————

CHAPTER 7.

The chilly night air of Crete hit us as we stepped out of the white-washed stone building, a sharp contrast to the heat and noise of the dining hall and dance floor. The patrons of the taverna had watched our departure in silence, their eyes trailing Amy’s swaying hips until we disappeared into the shadows of the parking area. Simon didn’t let Amy go; his arm remained locked around her waist, and he still carried her red lacy panties in his pocket as a trophy of her submission.

We returned to the small rental car, and the seating arrangement remained the same—I was in the front, once again relegated to the role of driver, while Amy and Simon took the cramped rear seats in the back. This time, however, there was no small talk. The moment the engine turned over and the car began to bounce along the unpaved mountain roads, the cabin was filled not with music, but with the sound of desperate, hungry movement.

Through the rearview mirror, I watched as Amy, still wearing Simon’s coat like a badge to prove his ownership of her body, immediately turned to Simon, her hands tangling in his hair as they began to make out with a raw intensity that made the car feel even smaller than it was. Eventually they broke apart and Amy finally relinquished Simon’s coat, reached back for the cowl of her jumpsuit, and pulled the top half of the garment over her head, letting the fabric fall to her waist and exposing her breasts and the rest of her upper torso to the dim light of the cabin. She moved with a confidence that would have been unthinkable days ago, reaching for Simon’s belt and freeing his manhood from his pants.

Even in the shadows, the sheer scale of Simon’s cock was staggering—a massively huge presence that seemed to dominate the backseat. Amy bent at the waist to worship his cock, her hands and mouth working in tandem. Though she had managed with Giorgos and Jiannis at the beach, she found herself overwhelmed by Simon’s size; she tried her best to open her jaw to accommodate him, but she simply could not get even the full head of his cock into her mouth.

Simon didn’t remain passive; his large, rough hands pawed at her chest, his fingers finding her erect nipples and pinching them with a firm, commanding pressure. Amy let out sharp gasps of pleasure that echoed through the car, her back arching as she leaned into the sensation.

I watched every second of the display through the mirror, my knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. I watched my wife surrendering her body to this swarthy Greek lion. Her eyes rolling back in her head as she capitulated to the physical power of the man beside her. The car continued its climb into the mountains, the silence of the night outside punctuated only by the wet sounds of Amy’s efforts and the occasional gasp as Simon’s hands freely explored every inch of Amy’s body.

The short drive back to the villa was a blur of shadows and the raw, rhythmic sounds of the backseat. Amy remained topless and half-naked, her body still humming from the public display at the taverna and the frantic intimacy of the car ride. As soon as the car came to a halt in the driveway of the rental villa, Simon, not bothering to zip up his manhood, flung open the car door and lifted/carried Amy physically out of the car. Amy clung to Simon’s physically larger frame, her body language screamed desperation for the release he promised.

Simon hoisted Amy up in his arms, carrying her through the front door and straight into the bedroom. I followed silently, taking my place in a corner chair—a vantage point that allowed me to observe the full spectacle of Simon’s conquest without disturbing the action.

Without a low growl, Simon proceeded to tear the remains of Amy’s jumpsuit from her body, leaving her completely exposed to the cool air of the room. He held Amy’s body down as he proceeded to lick every inch of her exposed body, from navel to forehead. Amy was howling in desire as Simon’s hot tongue caressed and devoured every inch.

“Oh. Come on in me. I want you in me. I need to be fucked so bad.” Amy panted.

Simon chose to torture Amy some more with his tongue. He planted his mouth over her engorged vulva. From my seat, I heard sucking and slurping sounds as he penetrated her sex with his dog-like tongue. Shifting even lower, I saw him lick the tight rosebud of her anus, leaving it glistening wet with his saliva. Amy threw her head back in pleasure.

“OH FUCK! THAT’S FUCKING GOOD. OH FUCKING HELL. DON’T YOU DARE STOP!” she screamed.

Simon obliged, displaying consummate skill and incredible jaw stamina. Licking my wife from front hole to back hole, stopping now and again to thrust his muscular tongue into each tight hole. Pretty soon he had brought Amy to a shuddering climax with his tongue alone. 

Having given Amy the pleasure she had been craving all evening, Simon now demanded his quid-pro-quo. He roughly shed his clothes and hauled Amy from the bed and made her kneel in front of him. His massive penis jutted out like a spear right in Amy’s face.

“Get my cock wet, I need your saliva on my cock so I can fuck your pussy.”

Amy obliged eagerly. With both hands she started fisting Simon’s giant penis. Using her saliva, she drooled over the head and shaft of his cock, lubricating it in preparation for its assault on her eager vagina. Amy was barely able to wrap her fingers around Simon’s cock, and even grasping his shaft with both hands, a good portion of his manhood was exposed to the greedy slurping lips of my wife. Soon enough she had managed to completely lubricate Simon’s cock with her saliva and spit. Her hands glided over his glans and shaft, polishing it over and over again.

Unlike the previous evening where she had been a more passive participant, Amy was now the one driving the intensity. Amy didn’t wait to be positioned. She stood back up and pushed Simon back onto the bed. Simon didn’t fight her, or else there would normally have been no way my smaller wife could have ever moved that mountain of a man.

Amy climbed on top of Simon, her petite frame a stark contrast to his massive build. She gripped his monster cock and guided it toward the entrance of her vagina. With a sharp, breathless gasp, she impaled herself partially on him, her eyes rolling back in her head as she took him in.

She began to move with a primal, rhythmic hunger, her hands braced against Simon’s chest for leverage. Every downward thrust was a deliberate act of reclamation, her hard nipples and flushed skin a testament to her total liberation. Little by little and bit by bit I watched her ass make its descent down the mountain that was Simon’s manhood. It was slow going even with the combination of Amy’s saliva and vaginal juices coating his cock. But Simon’s ultimate penetration of my wife’s pussy seemed a virtual certainty given how hard Amy was working to take him into her.

“It’s too much, Simon… you’re stretching me past anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like you’re claiming every inch of me from the inside out.” Amy declared. Beads of sweat collecting on her forehead, cheeks, chest and running between her heaving breasts.

Simon’s hands weren’t idle; they grabbed her hips, pulling her down harder with every stroke, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving red marks on her pale white flesh. The room was filled with the wet sounds of their coitus. From my chair, I watched in fascination as with a final, bracing push against Simon’s chest, Amy grunted and finally succeeded in taking the entire length of Simon’s manhood into her.

Amy let out a howl of pleasure. “Oooooohhhhh. Oh fuck it’s in me. It’s so big. I’m dying… It feels so full. It feels like you are splitting me open.”

Simon roared his own satisfaction and pulled Amy close for a rough kiss. Their tongues were slipping and sliding together, swapping fluids from mouth to mouth.

Having succeeded in her first objective, Amy started a rocking motion with Simon’s spear still buried deep in her womb. The bedroom was now filled with the wet, heavy slapping sound of their love making. Amy’s breathing quickened and I could tell that she was approaching her limit.

Simon’s expression was intent as he matched Amy’s intensity and ferocity, his own desire and physical power pushing them both toward a final ultimate shuddering climax. I saw Simon thrust upwards, once, twice and both bodies tensed as they reached a synchronised climax. I saw a growing patch of dampness on the sheet, evidence that Amy had squirted. Mixing in with Amy’s fluids was Simon’s thicker, whiter seed. Amy collapsed on top of Simon, panting in exhaustion, body covered in sweat.

——————

CHAPTER 8.

I realised that I had been holding my breath and released it now, fixated by the sight of the two entangled lovers, sprawled in careless abandon in the aftermath of their desperate act of lovemaking. My thoughts scattered and incoherent after witnessing one of the most erotic scenes of my life. My own manhood was throbbing in unfulfilled desire. But it seemed churlish to interrupt the scene before my eyes.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ring of the villa’s doorbell. The doorbell’s chime was a jarring intrusion, a sharp, metallic sound that sliced through the heavy, musk-filled silence of the bedroom. On the bed, Amy didn’t stir; she remained draped across Simon’s massive frame like a discarded silk ribbon, her skin still slick with a mixture of sweat and the remnants of their exertion. The bell rang again, more insistent this time, followed by the muffled sound of a heavy fist thumping against the wooden front door. Simon didn’t move to cover his nakedness; instead, he watched me with a calm, expectant gaze. “Go on, David,” he urged, his voice a low rumble. “Our guests have arrived”.

I left the bedroom without closing the door and walked over to the main entrance door of the villa. I opened the door to find the four men from the taverna—the same tanned, rugged group that had watched Amy with such hunger. I recognised the guy in the lead, he was the same who had crudely asked Simon if my wife was a good fuck. He completely ignored me. “Simon, pooh ee-say?”, he shouted.

From the bedroom doorway, Simon appeared. “Right on time.” he said to the newcomer.

All four men stepped into my villa without so much as a by-your-leave from me. Clearly, they treated me as someone of no consequence. The last man closed the door behind him and I stood dumbfounded at the sudden crowd in my living room. All four newcomers were younger than both me and Simon, with the vitality of youth evident in the spring of their step and the cocky confidence of men in their twenties. While none were as tall or as physically imposing as Simon was, each man looked physically fit and had bodies that were conditioned by manual labour.

“What is this? What is happening?” I demanded. But again, I was ignored.

The guy that I had come to think of as the leader of the group looked at Simon and cocked his head towards the doorway leading to the bedroom. His gesture was unmistakable. He was clearly asking Simon whether my wife was in the room.

Simon grinned and nodded, and motioned the group of men towards the bedroom. All five men started toward the bedroom.

I tried to bar the men from the room, but I was completely outnumbered and outflanked. None were particularly rough with me, but they kept me from entering the bedroom where my wife still lay, naked and vulnerable. The door was shut in my face, the sound of men laughing and whistling the last sound I heard before the lock turned.

I pounded on the door, shouting Amy’s name, frantic with concern for my wife.  

TO BE CONTINUED.

[Final part will be told from Amy’s perspective.]

---

“My Wife Rediscovers Her Sexuality In the Hands of a Stranger” Part 5.

Notes from the author: In Part 4, Amy, David and Simon had driven to a local taverna, or restaurant, to eat. Simon had deliberately exposed Amy’s body to the gaze of a number of dinner patrons while at dinner. Simon continued to demonstrate his control over Amy by making her leave the villa without a bra and, later, to hand him her underwear in public view, leaving no doubt in the minds of the patrons present in the restaurant that Amy had gone commando under her outfit. Part 4 ended on a cliffhanger with me, David, shut outside the room with Amy, my wife, naked, alone and left to the mercies of Simon and four buddies. Part 5 will be from Amy’s perspective. – S

————-

CHAPTER 1.

[Amy’s perspective]

I woke from my pleasant stupor to the sound of insistent pounding. It took a while for the fog of sexual gratification—that thick, honeyed haze—to clear from my mind. I was naked, my skin still covered with Simon’s saliva and other dried fluids. Five large shapes loomed over me, their features swallowed by the shadows of the Airbnb villa.

One of them spoke and I recognised the voice of Simon. “Get up little bird,” it said, “I have some friends here who want to get to know you.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked around for David, my husband, wondering why he was no longer in the room with us. All throughout the evening he had been present, giving me comfort knowing that he was with me. Now, with his unexpected absence, an icy shard of fear shot through me.

“David!” I called out, my voice thin and cracking with a terror I couldn’t hide.

“Amy!” His voice came back, but it was muffled—strangely distant, coming from behind the heavy bedroom door.

I turned to Simon, my Greek lover, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Simon, what is this? What are you doing?”.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even acknowledge the question. Instead, he stepped toward the door, speaking to my husband as if I were a piece of furniture in the room. “David, brother, don’t worry. She will be safe. Me and my friends just want to play with her a little”.

His hungry gaze remained locked on me, leaving no doubt as to what kind of ‘play’ he and his friends desired.

“Simon, this wasn’t what we discussed!” David’s voice erupted from the hallway, sounding both desperate and pathetic. “I asked you to arouse her… I said you could have sex with her. But I never said you could whore her out to your friends!”.

The word ‘whore’ hit me harder than any physical blow. I felt the heat of betrayal flood my chest, a sickening mix of shame and realisation: David and Simon had made an “arrangement,” and I had been kept in the dark. It turned out that I wasn’t actually a co-participant in this sexual adventure, instead I was the prize that was being pimped out by my own husband. Even worse, David’s last statement indicated that he was no longer in control and that I was totally at the mercy of Simon and his friends!

I shrank back from the hungry gazes of the five men in front of me. Trying in vain to cover my nakedness with the bedsheets.

“Don’t be frightened little bird,” said Simon soothingly, one hand reached out and stroked my cheek. “We don’t want to hurt you. We all saw how you behaved earlier so you can’t pretend that you weren’t trying to make all of us lust after you. Plus I know how much you enjoy the sex.”

I couldn’t help it, my body still responded to Simon’s gentle caress with a shiver. Why did this man have such a magnetic hold over me. I closed my eyes, trying to banish the sight of him and thereby hoped to regain some sense of myself.

But his hypnotic voice wormed its way into my ear and I couldn’t shut him out. Plus his hands were still stroking me and oh it felt so good.

“Why don’t we clean you up a little and that way my friends can see you all fresh.” Simon’s honeyed tongue continued laying its spell on me. My brain went numb and I could no longer muster the will to fight Simon’s hypnotic commands.

I chose not to resist. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Two pairs of hands reached out to pull me out of the bed and steady me, one on each side. They half guided me, half carried me over to the attached bathroom. They deposited me in the shower and started running the water, letting it warm up a little before using the detachable shower hose to rinse me down. The hands were thorough, every patch of skin was rinsed through to wash away any dried semen and body fluids. They even lathered me with soap, gently scrubbing my skin with a loofa, making it glow with a rosy tinge with the combined action of the warm water and their firm and deft movements.

I let them finish soaping me and cleaning me up. Their actions were methodical, almost clinical, not a form of titillation even when one of the men soaped up his hands and washed my groin, front and rear. They even hosed my vagina, washing out clumps of thick white semen. I stood there like a statue while being cleaned, not resisting at all.

Next they rubbed me dry with one of the thick warm towels provided by the Airbnb host. It felt like I was cocooned in a warm hug. Despite myself I started to relax my guard and even began enjoying the pampering. But I could not fully shake the feeling like I was being prepared—not for a night of love, but for a performance. By the time I had been showered, dried and guided back to the bedroom, the other three men had managed to re-make the bed, even changing the sheets with the spare ones they found in the wardrobe. I stood there, waiting for the next command.

———-

CHAPTER 2.

Simon issued instructions in rapidfire Greek. All four men started stripping. Simon of course was still naked from earlier, showing zero trace of self consciousness as he stood there with his penis, now flaccid, hanging down almost reaching his knees. Soon I was treated to the sight of five tanned and swarthy naked men.

“Kneel” Simon commanded, clearly targeting it at me. One of the men (I didn’t get any of their names) was more considerate than most and placed a pillow on the wooden floor for me to kneel on. Simon stepped behind me, grabbing my hips with his large, rough hands  and forcing me onto my knees in the center of the bedroom. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growled. “To be the center of their world?”. I could sense what was coming next.

As if on cue, one of the men stepped forward and thrust his penis in my face. I didn’t need to hear the command to know what was expected of me. I took hold of the man’s cock. It was circumcised, which I had not seen before and sucked it into my mouth.

The man I was pleasuring gave a grunt of approval and I gave him my best blowjob for the next 30 seconds. But before he could come, another man replaced him, and then another.

By the third guy my jaw was aching and my knees were a bit sore. I had to support myself with my arms wrapped around the buttocks of the man I was currently blowing. To an observer it must have looked like passion or desire, but really my legs would have given way otherwise.

Because I was blowing them for such short periods, none of the men reached their climax and I was starting to feel a bit frustrated.

When the fourth and last of the new men stepped up to take his turn, he must have decided that enough was enough. Instead of waiting for me to take him into my mouth, he grabbed my head between his two hands and started to mouthfuck me.

I didn’t have time to react to the sudden assault. Before I could even protest, a warm penis had invaded the back of my throat. I swallowed instinctively and started to gag. But somehow, by continually attempting to swallow, my gag reflex seemed to have been suppressed. No. 4’s (I had started to name my partners in order that I blew them) long thin penis slid smoothly and partially down my throat.

I felt suffocated. But just as it had earlier with Giorgos, along with the sensation of suffocation and panic, came a wave of pleasure emanating from my womb. Now that no. 4 had successfully shoved his entire cock down my throat, he started to really fuck my face. The sensation of the thick meaty penis repeatedly sliding to the back and down my throat was entirely novel and not completely unwelcome. With no. 4 holding my head between his palms, I no longer needed my arms to hold myself up.

Seizing the opportunity, no. 1 and no. 2 took hold of my arms and placed them on top of their semi erect penises. Instinct took over and soon I was giving a hand job to no. 1 and no. 2 while being face-fucked by no. 4.

With the impatience of youth, no. 4 didn’t take long before stiffening in my mouth and shooting ropes of cum down my throat. He came with a roar of triumph and I did my best to swallow all of the semen that he was unloading in my mouth.

No. 3 then wanted to take no. 4’s place. But clearly the men felt that they needed to keep to the original sequence. No. 1 then took his place and imitated no. 4, shoving his cock straight down my throat. It was easier this time, perhaps I had gotten used to it. But in any case, he had soon struck up a jackhammer rhythm that might have felt punishment if it wasn’t for the glow of pleasure that I felt permeating my body.

Each remaining man then took turns face fucking me, all except Simon I realised. Whether it was because he knew that there was still no way I could take in his monster cock or whether he was merely content to watch his creation blossom into a wanton sex trollop, Simon stood back and did not participate. Instead I could hear him giving brief suggestions to the men in their native tongue.

As for what the odd man out was doing, since I could only service three men at a time with my one mouth and two hands, the unoccupied fourth man would be rotated out to record the action with a smartphone that one of them had helpfully brought along. It seemed that my night of fornication was to be recorded for posterity.

The last man to facefuck me was no. 3. No. 4, no. 1 and no. 2 had each had their turn and I had accumulated a warm reservoir of cum in my stomach. I was no longer having to give the others hand jobs, as their cocks had gone flaccid after unloading in me, so all that was left was no. 3. Seeing this, no. 3 obviously felt he needed to make a statement. Just as he was about to finish, instead of slamming home and unloading his seed down my throat, he pulled back his dick and sprayed my face with his semen instead. Thick ropes of white cum splashed on my face, my lips, my chin, and dripped down my chest and breast.

For reasons that I don’t quite understand, the warm jizz made me hot with desire. I collected as much cum as I could and rubbed it like body lotion over myself, working it into the skin of my breasts and the valley between. I licked the remaining salty fluids from my fingers in deep satisfaction.

——————

CHAPTER 3.

There was no resistance left in me after that. Simon started giving instructions in a mix of English and Greek, holding the camera phone and directing the action like a porn director on a set.

Four men lifted me effortlessly from where I had collapsed on the floor and laid me down on the newly remade bed. After that I surrendered my body and senses to the many hands and lips and tongues that groped, pinched, sucked, licked and probed every inch of my body, including my anus and my vagina. Even my feet were not spared. I couldn’t keep up with the assault, could no longer tell which hand and which tongue belonged to whom. My universe narrowed to just the bed and the warm and salty-skinned bodies that inhabited it with me. I grabbed whatever I could reach – hand, penis, scrotum and sucked whatever was placed near my lips. I was drunk on desire and thoughts of my husband standing forlornly on the other side of the bedroom door were a distant consideration.

The men didn’t need much time to recover. One after another they got hard again and their desire for my body became more insistent. My nipples were chewed on, love bites covered my torso, fingers pinched me hard enough to leave marks. It should have been painful, but somehow pain had transformed into a deeper, stronger pleasure. My pussy was leaking fluid constantly and I knew that I was craving cock.

“Someone come fuck my pussy!!”, I threw out the challenge.

Simon got me to go down on my hands and knees in the classic doggie pose. No. 4, who I had come to realise liked it rough compared to the others, took up position behind and in one motion rammed himself home into my pussy. I screamed in surprise and pleasure, my pussy fluids leaked copiously down my thighs. No. 2 took up position in front of me and motioned for me to take him in my mouth. The two men quickly found a coordinated rhythm, both thrusting in me simultaneously. I was spit roasted between the men like a piece of meat.

I moaned and drooled uncontrollably as both men used me like a fuck toy, only seeking their own pleasure. No. 1 then came and joined in the action. Standing on the other side away from Simon who was still filming with the smartphone, he groped and mauled my hanging titties, even slapping them like a cat playing with a toy.

‘Piak! piak!’ the angry sound of a slap reached my ears and pain bloomed from my backside. No. 4, ever the sadist, had apparently been inspired by no. 1 and started slapping my pale ass with his meaty palm. He began slamming his meaty palm against my pale skin with a force that felt personal. These weren’t the playful, heightening swats of a lover; they were heavy, punctuating strikes fueled by a dark, simmering energy.

As the pain intensified, Simon’s words from the taverna earlier that evening flashed through my mind. He had spoken of the young men in Greece—generationally frustrated, feeling neglected and discarded by the richer nations of the EU. Looking at the vein throbbing in No. 4’s neck and the cold focus in his eyes, I realised I had become the target for all that unspoken rage. To him, I wasn’t just a woman; I was a symbol of the world that looked down on him. I was just the convenient outlet for his rage and unhappiness. Unable to change his circumstances, no. 4 has clearly decided that he would take his frustrations out on me.

Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks as I struggled to breathe. I tried to scream a protest, but my voice was swallowed by No. 2’s cock, which remained lodged firmly in my mouth. There was no reasoning with him; there was only the fire of his resentment, and it seemed the hotter it burned, the faster it would consume itself.

But it seemed that the hotter the fire, the faster it burned out. No. 4’s thrusts started to jerk randomly and he fell out of sync with no. 2. My suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly sped up his thrusts and started cumming deep into my ravaged pussy. His cock pumped once, twice, then no. 4 yanked his dick out of me and moved to a corner of the room to sulk.

No. 3 was quick to take the place of the fallen no. 4 and he started a more measured pace of thrusting. After a while, No. 2 came next, which I was grateful for as my jaw had started to hurt again. He too chose to ejaculate over my face and body. No. 1 seemed to be a boobs man, because he raised my torso up and started kissing me while fondling both my breasts. I felt a glow of pleasure as I had always felt insecure about the smaller size of my chest, but no. 1’s admiration of my love mounds restored some of my self confidence.

I was starting to appreciate no. 3’s stamina. He had been thrusting in me for quite some time in a steady rhythm. That gave my body time to adjust and I felt a slow tingling feeling start to grow between my legs, the rising crest of what promised to be a huge orgasmic wave.

True enough, the wave eventually crashed over me and my body started jerking uncontrollably. I cried out in pleasure.  Luckily no. 1 was still holding me tight and I clung to him as I lost all conscious control of the lower half of my body.

Eventually the waves subsided and I realised that no. 3 was still hard. I half turned and gave him an appreciative smile, which he reciprocated with a youthful grin that lit up his whole face. I think my overt approval must have been a huge ego boost to him.

No. 3 then pulled out of me and I felt a flash of disappointment but also curiosity, wondering what he intended to do next. I felt his hand scoop up some of the fluids still leaking out of my vagina and rub it over my puckered anus.

‘No way!’ was my first thought. I had never tried anal before. The one time David had suggested it I had immediately rebuffed him.

But I didn’t have the language skills to explain to this young man that I did not want his penis in my ass. I could only shake my head and pray that my meaning was clear.

No. 3 was surprisingly understanding of my apparent reluctance but in no way deterred. The one consideration he had for me was to take things a little slow. He started with a single finger, which popped past the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of my rectum. I could feel every inch of his finger as it probed my rear. Surprisingly it didn’t feel bad at all. In fact, I was starting to feel a warm and slightly tingling sensation.

No. 3 sawed his finger back and forth and soon had my back channel lubed up. My own body produced secretions that aided in this. Before too long I found myself actively thrusting back on to no. 3’s finger. It seemed that my body enjoyed this after all! It was a joyous day of discovery.

Once I had demonstrated that I was no longer against the idea of anal penetration, no. 3 then lined up his penis, still hard, at the entrance of my anus. He pushed in deeply and my body took it all.

It felt heavenly. I now understood why the almighty creator designed the human anus to have so many nerve endings. I abandoned all misgivings about anal sex and started thrusting myself on no. 3’s penis.

No. 3 allowed me to have my fun for about a minute or so. But then he grabbed me around the hips and took control of the action. His thrusts were much more forceful and much faster and the glorious sensation in my ass multiplied tenfold.

I started spitting out expletive after expletive as no. 3 reamed my asshole with his cock. I had one, two, three large orgasms in quick succession, which left me almost breathless. I shouted and begged to be fucked harder and deeper, not caring and ounce that all this was being recorded on Simon’s phone.

Finally no. 3 shuddered and came deep in my bowels and I joined him for one final soaring orgasm.

Panting I collapsed.

———

CHAPTER 4.    

Dear reader, I will not bore you with further details of how I passed the rest of the night. I was given only short bouts in which to rest or to wash up. The rest of the night was spent letting my body be used in every lewd and obscene way imaginable. When asked to crawl, I crawled. When asked to beg, I did. I confessed to every dark and dirty desire I had ever had and even some that I never did but now wanted. I begged each and every man that night to fuck me, to use me, to cum in me, to fill my holes. I practically bathed in their semen and each man had stamped their possession over every single one of my orifices. I serviced each man multiple times that night, and frequently several men at once. I was fist-fucked, anal fucked, double penetrated standing and lying down. I serviced feet, ears, mouths, armpits, dicks, balls, perineums, and yes anuses with my lips, mouth and tongue, heedless of dignity and sanitation alike. Simon made me kneel in front of the camera and confess my wanton desires to be filled and fucked by countless cocks, even as the men masturbated and bathed me in their cum. The cameras captured me sticking out my tongue, trying to capture every drop in my mouth.

“Tell the camera, Amy,” Simon had commanded in a low growl.
“Tell everyone who sees this exactly what you are.”

I had leaned in closer to the microphone. “I love it,” I had confessed in a husky voice, “I love being their toy… I love that they are claiming every inch of me from the inside out. I like to be used like this… I love being a fuck slave for every man in this room. I want them to keep taking me and using me”.

I was fucked in every imaginable position, cumming and being cummed in so many times I lost count. But what truly scared me was that my body kept wanting more.

But eventually we were all human and there ultimately came a point when all the men had had their fill of me. The departure of the four men was as sudden and efficient as their arrival, there were no polite goodbyes or awkward lingerings. The men simply began to collect their things, pulled on their clothes and adjusted their belts with the clinical indifference of workers finishing a shift. No. 3 paused to look at me one last time, his gaze lingering on my flushed skin and the handprints and sweat that marked my body like a map. He let out a short, sharp grunt of approval, the only gesture of thanks I would receive that night. They left me there, in the early hours of the day, covered in various bodily fluids.

I surrendered to my exhaustion and oblivion claimed me.

———

CHAPTER 5.

The next morning, I struggled to get out of bed. I was sore in places I didn’t even know the name for. I must have been a sight. Hair matted with dried cum and who knew what. My body covered in love bites and other bruises. But my chief concern was David. I had no sight or sound of him since the start of my ordeal.

I wrapped myself in a robe, tired of having my body exposed, and hobbled out of the bedroom and found David passed out on the couch, and empty glass and an empty bottle of whisky next to him on the floor. I guessed that he must have been drinking steadily the whole night in order to drown out the sounds of his wife servicing four men. The empty bottle of whisky a testament to how much he must have beat himself up over the whole situation and drank until he had passed out from exhaustion and too much alcohol.

I shook him awake, a difficult task given the depth of his alcoholic haze. Finally, he cracked open one bleary eye and looked at me. The silence between us was heavy with everything that had been done and allowed.

“Do you hate me?” I asked, my voice small and sounding like it belonged to a different person.

“Babe, no, never. I could never hate you. I blame myself. I couldn’t protect you. I’ve never felt so powerless before.” He blubbered. “Did they hurt you? Are you okay?”. His concern was evident on his face and in his voice.

I looked at him, and for a moment, the betrayal I’d felt last night when I heard his confession through the door flared up. But then I looked at the bruises on my arms and the way my body still hummed with the memory of the night. “I’m okay,” I said, and to my surprise, I realised I meant it. “Really. They didn’t hurt me.”

I pulled him up from the couch. “Come on, we have to pack. We need to get to the airport.”

“Yes, let’s go home.” David said in a voice of defeat.

There wasn’t a whole lot we could do about the state of the bedsheets. I was pretty sure we would be losing our cleaning deposit for the Airbnb. But we did the best we could in the time we had to at least make the place seem less like a disaster zone.  Eventually we managed to clear everything away and we locked up the door to the villa and deposited the keys according to the instructions left by the owner.

The trip to the airport was largely silent. I think we were both still processing the events of the last 48 hours. Honestly, it seemed like it lasted much longer than that, given how fundamentally it had altered us both, as well as our relationship. I did confess to David on the flight back to Singapore that I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave me. But David only told me not to speak nonsense and that there was absolutely nothing that I should feel sorry or ashamed about. His declaration of continued support gave me some small comfort and assurance that we might find a way back to the couple we were before this whole event.

Touching down at Changi Airport we were alerted to a new mail that had been sent to us while we were in the air. It turned out to be from Simon, and it contained a link to a file sharing site that hosted a single large video file. We needed no clues as to what were the contents of the video. Along with the link was a short note in which Simon apologised for the deception.

“David, Amy—I apologize for the deception at the villa. To achieve the ‘loosening up’ you requested, David, I had to ensure the stakes felt real. The men were my old friends, professionals I trust. Amy, you were magnificent. You took to the role with a grace that surprised even me. You have a gift. If you ever find yourselves in Greece again, you know how to find me.”

While the contents of the note helped free an enormous weight from my shoulders that I hadn’t even realised I was carrying, part of me still worried that there would now be evidence of my depravity and sexual performance online. But I figured ‘que sera, sera!’. I resolved to devote myself to my husband and I was confident that come what may we would deal with it as a couple. I hugged David close as we made our way home.

THE END.

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Epilogue

[David’s perspective]

We never talked in detail about what happened that last night in Crete. I didn’t want to risk bringing up any painful memories for Amy. She kept insisting that she was okay, and on the surface that appeared to be the case. There certainly did not appear to be any lingering trauma with respect to sex, since she jumped me practically the moment we made it safely home. But I did notice some changes in the days and weeks following.

For one thing, Amy’s mannerisms changed. She seemed more assertive, especially when dealing with men. She walked with a new, predatory grace. She no longer hesitated to look a guy in the eye and call them out on something she didn’t think was right. She was also a lot more overt in the way she appraised other people, especially men, frequently looking them over from head to toe, not even bothering to disguise her intentions.

She also started using her sexuality as a weapon. Through her dressing and the way she sometimes engaged in flirty conversations, I noted how she would take pains to dress up for certain events where it would be advantageous for her to be noticed. Even when we were out on casual dates, Amy seemed to pay more attention to how others would view her. She seemed to delight sometimes in scandalising the more straight-laced segments of Singapore, appearing in tighter and more revealing attire even when just running casual errands around the neighbourhood. I had even seen older aunties scolding and hitting their husbands whose gaze lingered a little too long on my attractive wife as she sashayed through the local shops.

Needless to say our dating life kicked up a notch. We went out more frequently now as a couple, especially since the kids had their own friends and plans. Date nights were almost always bra-less these days and, more often than not, Amy went commando. Once, at a corporate dinner hosted by my company, Amy confessed to me that she was not wearing any panties! Her wardrobe also transformed. Gone were the plain frocks and comfy, baggy dresses, replaced by clothing that was often made from silkier material, with cut outs or sheer panels.

And whenever we were out as a couple she flirted outrageously with all the servers and the staff we encountered, even some females, though I had never known Amy to have any inclinations in that direction. She used her sexuality shamelessly to get little advantages, better seats in the restaurant, better and faster service at the checkout counter. In return she would often reward helpful or sometimes just more handsome staff with an ‘innocent’ peek down her blouse or a casual brush against their groin or bum. Like I said she was outrageous. But the true target of all that flirting was actually me. Amy knew well that when she did naughty things like that on our nights out, it invariably led to a hot and heavy make out session, sometimes even before we had made it home.

Amy was not the only one that changed. Our night time activities seemed to re-energise me too, and found myself with more stamina and endurance than before. And this also translated into a more willing desire to work out and exercise (after all I needed to keep up with my wife’s new found appetites). I lost about 15kg of flab and while I didn’t suddenly gain huge muscles, my clothes started to fit on me better and my waist shrank by almost 4 inches from a size 38 to a size 34.

I had never felt the urge to watch the recording of the night Simon and his friends used Amy as their sexual plaything. I had downloaded it, of course—saved it to a cloud server under a nondescript name “just in case”—but I kept it locked away like a radioactive secret.

The change in her was enough for me. She was radiant, assertive, and dangerously flirtatious. But then came the afternoon I picked up her iPad to check a flight and found a browser tab left open.

Initially, I tried to tell myself it was a rogue pop-up—a bit of digital debris. But the history was a roadmap of a secret life. It wasn’t just one site; it was a library of specific, high-intensity scenes: Asian women in bukakke videos, spit-roasted, or taking on multiple men, often dark skinned, at once. Link after link showed a woman, often Asian, being fucked in multiple positions by multiple men. My thumb hovered over the screen. It wasn’t just porn. It was a mirror of that night in Crete.

She wasn’t just “okay” with what had happened. She was chasing the ghost of it. ‘Is this what Amy is into now?’ I wondered to myself.

The air in the room felt suddenly thin. My fingers moved without conscious thought, navigating away from the browser and toward my own private cloud server. My heart thudded against my ribs—the same rhythm, perhaps, as the pounding on that villa door weeks ago. I found the file Simon had sent.

The thumbnail was a blur of tanned skin and white sheets. I realized then that I couldn’t live in the “after” without finally seeing the “during.” I clicked the link.

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