Eye Of The Beholder 7

Here's the thing about going to a clothing-optional swinger resort: you see things - unexpected things, things that affect you in ways you couldn't imagine.

***

My wife and I began going to the resort years ago on a lark - a wild and crazy idea to do something sexy, different, and out of our comfort zone. By any measure, we weren't swingers and had no intention of straying over that taboo line. After all, we weren't

those

kind of people. We discovered on that first trip that we are those kind of people, at least sort of. We've never done anything too outrageous, but during our multiple trips to the resort, we have dipped our toes into what's known as "the lifestyle" and witnessed some mind-bending things. More than a few years had gone by, and I thought we'd found the edge of our boundaries and seen it all. I was wrong.

***

It was a typical five o'clock happy hour at the resort's oversized rooftop hot tub. Naked people were crammed into the bubbling water, drinking, socializing, and flirting. Meanwhile, on the beds surrounding the jacuzzi, couples or small groups were engaged in a variety of sexual shenanigans in full view of whomever might be looking. The unwritten rule at the resort was: it's okay to watch, but don't stare at those sucking and fucking in full view of everyone. Look all you want, but don't gawk.

"Nothing like a live sex show to get the evening off on the right foot," my friend Tony said, waving toward the beds. I nodded and clinked my plastic cup to his. We were sitting at the swim-up bar with our wives and a cadre of friends.

"The 'getting off' part is what you're really interested in," his wife Kathy said with half-joking sarcasm. "You'd sit and stare at that all night long given half a chance."

"I don't stare," he protested. "That would be rude."

"Pfft. Of course, you stare, and you're usually drooling." Kathy rolled her eyes dramatically while her husband held his hand against his chest as if saying, "Who, me?"

"Don't you think they want you to do that?" I asked. "I mean, it's broad daylight, and they're right there." I motioned toward the beds. "It's exhibitionism."

My wife leaned into the conversation and asked, "Or are they putting on a show?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Putting on a show is like acting; you do it to please the people watching. Being an exhibitionist is about pleasing yourself by having sex in front of other people."

Interesting distinction

, I thought.

And probably right on the mark

. My wife is pretty freaking smart. "Can't it be both at the same time?" I asked. Everyone in our group nodded their heads. "Then it would be a combination of self-pleasure and acting to satisfy an audience." I took a big gulp from my drink. "Sort of like masturbating in front of someone," I stared directly at my wife as I indirectly revealed one of the kinks that she shared with me. "Assuming your observer likes that," I added quickly, squeezing her knee under the water.

She smiled sweetly at me, and I wondered if, later that evening, she'd give me the pleasure of letting me watch as she played with herself.

"How far do you think one could take it?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked.

"It's pretty obvious that an exhibitionist, or exhibitionists, can go all the way to orgasm. But what about the observer, the voyeur? Could he or she go all the way and climax just by watching; I mean, without masturbating?"

My wife didn't hesitate. "Absolutely. But it depends, in part, on the exhibitionist/performer - does he/she/they put on a show sexy enough to arouse the watcher or watchers? Does the voyeur (or voyeurs) enjoy what she or he is seeing? And there's got to be chemistry between the doers and seers, but yeah, I definitely think going all the way is possible. It would be awesome." She sounded wistful.

I finished my drink, sat the empty cup on the bar, and said, "I need to make a pitstop. Would you get me a refill, hon?" When I kissed my wife after getting up off the underwater barstool, she palmed my butt and squeezed my ass.

Gonna get lucky tonight

, I thought happily as I walked to the steps leading out of the water.

Maybe it's just me (I doubt it), but I can tell when someone is staring at me. The moment I stepped out of the hot tub and turned toward the restrooms, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I knew I was being watched. It felt like I was in someone's crosshairs. It was unnerving. I looked back toward where I'd left my wife sitting, expecting to see her ogling me. She was deep in conversation with one of our friends.

Not her,

I thought. I kept slowly walking toward the bathrooms and, as subtly as possible, searched the crowd for whoever might be stalking me. I found her in a few seconds on a bed tucked away in a corner. She was a thin but muscular blonde with generous tits (34-C at least) and sparkling blue eyes that were locked on me. Her full lips, painted with bright red lipstick, were curved into a broad smile that was both happy and knowing - knowing that I'd found her and happy that I had. She didn't wave or say anything because her hands, as well as her lips, were fully occupied; wrapped around the thick, rigid cock of the guy to whom she was giving a blowjob.

Remember that I said resort etiquette dictated that looking was okay, but staring was a no-no. The blonde's piercing gaze told me, practically ordered me, otherwise -not only to look at her but to focus on her. With supreme effort, I willed my feet to keep moving, but I slowed down and looked at her. Her eyes sparkled brighter, and despite the girthy pole that spread her lips, she smiled wider when she saw how I obeyed her silent directive. She winked, then pulled the hard cock out of her mouth and began seductively licking up and down its length while flamboyantly massaging the ball sac with one hand and jacking the shaft with her other. I stumbled forward a few more steps. The blonde, who hadn't taken her eyes off me, gripped the base of the fat mast, opened her mouth wide, and speared it into her maw, stopping only when her lips were pressed against the tuft of the man's pubic hair. I was mesmerized, trapped by the power of her deep-throating and by her unwavering eye contact. I could see everything, the way her throat muscles rhythmically contracted around the stiff meat buried in her, how her hands caressed his balls and explored the crevice between his butt cheeks, the rivulets of saliva that poured out past her stretched, red lips, the way his hands white-knuckle gripped the mattress, and especially how her watering eyes, filled with dancing, happy light, never left mine. She pulled off him after what felt like an eternity and gulped in a lungful of air, then licked away the lewd strings of spit that stretched between his cockhead and her lips. She blew me a kiss. That was the last thing I saw before entering the men's room. My heart was pounding. It was one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen. The blonde had somehow drawn me into her blowjob and made me part of it.

After relieving myself, I dawdled at the sink, dousing myself with cold water as I struggled to settle down. It had been a show just like what my wife had described. There had been a weird, unsolicited, and utterly unexpected chemistry between the blonde and myself.

Whoa!

I wasn't sure what to do with that realization. I threw more cold water on my face and walked out of the restroom, determined not to look toward the bed where I'd seen her. As casually as possible but at an accelerated pace, I walked back to the swim-up bar where my wife and friends were sitting. I never looked back, but I "felt" the blonde's eyes on me the whole time. I imagined that she was grinning.

After I sat down, my wife asked, "Are you okay?" She smiled as if somehow knowing what I'd just experienced.

There's no way she could have

, I thought.

I nodded along with the group conversation but had no idea what anyone was saying because I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd seen. Now and then, my wife hugged me or squeezed my leg, silently checking in, making sure that I wasn't having a heart attack or some other terrible physical malady. By the time she went off to the ladies' room, the aftermath of my voyeurism had faded, and I was able to focus on the discussion and the people around me.

My wife returned to the bar and whispered in her girlfriend's ear. "I need to go help Kathy with something," she told me. I raised my eyebrows at her. "Get your mind out of the gutter." She kissed me and said, "I'll be back." Her eyes glittered like she was up to something, but like usual, I had no idea what.

After finishing another drink, it wasn't long before the call of nature hit me again. I excused myself and exited the hot tub. Just like before, as soon as my foot was on dry ground, the hair on my neck stood up. My eyes immediately found the blonde on the same bed. Instead of being busy giving a blowjob, she was lying on her side partially atop a supine guy (presumably the same one) with knees akimbo vigorously rubbing her pussy. And, just like before, she was staring directly at me. An electric current of connection between us lit up inside me, and I shivered. The blonde grinned, recognizing my reaction. She plunged two fingers past her glistening and visibly swollen labia deep into her vagina. Another tremor of excitement ran through me. The blonde grinned wider. She began stroking the man's turgid penis while continuing to massage her clit. She kept her eyes on me.

I was frozen in place, and my immobility seemed to excite the woman. She licked her lips and thrust more fingers into her wet sex. Then, unexpectedly, she looked directly at the empty sofa just a few feet from the bed she was on. I stayed still, suspecting but not believing what she was silently saying. She looked at me and then at the sofa again. I had understood correctly - she wanted me to sit on that couch and watch her. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I obeyed and sat. The blonde's smile grew.

I felt helpless. It was as if I had no choice in the matter. I had to sit and look at her. The blood flowing into my cock as I saw her grin at me and masturbate was also completely out of my control. There's no "rule" at the resort against having a hard-on in public. In fact, women seem to enjoy seeing guys with stiff dicks. And one would think that being around lots of beautiful, naked women in the throes of sexual encounters would mean that every guy was erect all the time. But most guys at the resort stayed flaccid or at no more than half-mast unless they were being physically stimulated. That was true for me. However, sitting and watching the blonde stare at me while she stuffed her fingers into her saturated snatch was unbelievably arousing, and in moments, I was hard as a rock. I squirmed on the couch cushion, trying to keep my stiff pole discretely out of sight. The blonde frowned and locked her eyes on my crotch. I spread my legs and let my rigid member sway free. She smiled her approval and resumed playing with herself.

You're probably thinking that I began stroking myself. No - guys masturbating in public is definitely a resort etiquette no-no. Everyone considers that creepy. I sat as still as I could, kept my hands away from my crotch, and looked around, sure that someone would be glaring at me, a single guy sporting an erection while staring at an unsuspecting girl. But no one was looking at me. Nobody was even glancing in my general direction. People were carrying on with whatever they were doing, and if they saw me or the blonde, they didn't give any indication of it. She and I were in our own bubble. Her grip on me felt even stronger. I returned my gaze to her, and her eyes lit up. I was all hers, and she knew it.

From that point on, the blonde never took her eyes away from mine. They bored into me and reached down to the depths of my carnal desires. Every look she sent my way and every movement of her hands and lips fanned my lust. My entire body, from head to toe, but most of all, my cock was aching with need and almost uncontrollable lust. The blonde's exhibition was the hottest, most provocative show conceivable - or so I thought.

Still keeping her eyes on me, she withdrew her fingers from her dripping pussy, licked them clean, rose onto her knees, and straddled her man's waist reverse cowgirl style. Her smile was inviting, but at the same time demanding, maybe even threatening -

Don't you dare take your eyes off me!

I obeyed her unspoken command and watched as she speared herself onto the stiff cock between her wide-spread legs.

It wasn't a delicate move. She thrust herself downward hard, ramming the man's pole between her puffy labia as if devouring him. It was, without a doubt, a declaration of ownership - that cock, and the pleasure she'd get from it was hers. And, even more importantly, the look on her face told me that my undivided attention was all hers too.

She rocked her hips back and forth, drawing the stiff rod in and out of her pussy while spearing me with her eyes. It felt as if every wave of lustful physical delight that was clearly rumbling through her also coursed through me.

Fuuuuck!

I thought as she undulated atop her partner.

I'm gonna cum just watching her

. I gritted my teeth and gripped the arm of the sofa hard as my hips involuntarily rocked in time with hers. I was locked in an epic battle with my lust. She grinned wider, happy and excited by my struggle to control myself. The mirthful glint in her eyes seemed to say,

Look at this!

The woman reached down and spread her labia wide, giving me an unrestricted view of how the pole of flesh she was riding stretched and filled her pussy. I stifled a moan and shuddered. She laughed quietly and kept on pulsing up and down. It was clear that she loved fucking her partner, but she also loved showing it to me - sharing it with me.

Without breaking stride, the woman placed one finger directly onto her swollen clit. I gasped. She gasped. We rocked our hips more aggressively in sync with each other.

Fuuuck!

There was no room for any other thought in my lust-fogged brain. In and out. Plunge, withdraw. Deep, shallow. The blonde relentlessly drove the hard shaft in and out of her pussy, all while fingering her clit, and keeping me locked tightly in her sights. My mind went crazy imagining what she was thinking -

Fuck yes! Fuck me! Fuck you!

She sped up her hip and finger movements, getting ever closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy. It felt like that was where she was driving me, too.

Her movements changed from steady undulations to a more aggressive pounding. The sound of skin slapping together and the rhythmic creak of the bed filled my ears, while the sight of her ample tits bouncing up and down and her fingers dancing over her cherry-red clit filled my vision. Most captivating of all were her gleaming blue eyes, which never moved away from mine. Lust, excitement, pure physical pleasure rippled through me, and pre-cum dripped from the end of my aching rod.

The blonde's rhythm changed slightly, and the meaty cock escaped from her folds. It stood up tall and stiff, glistening with her secretions in the bright daylight. I thought it had been an accident, the kind of thing that sometimes happens when people are lost in the throes of jubilant physical passion. I was wrong. She'd done it on purpose. The woman smiled at me, wrapped one hand around the base of the hard dick, spread her engorged labia wider, and began rubbing the swollen cockhead against her blazing red clit. Then she resumed pumping her hips. It didn't take long for the inevitable to happen. The scrotum tightened, and the stiff rod swelled in the woman's grasp. A fountain of thick, white cream erupted from the dusky tip and blasted against her clit. That was it for her. With an audible moan, the blonde tipped her head back (still keeping her eyes locked on mine) and set free the orgasm that had been building up in her. Gout after gout of cum plastered her, each one sending shivers of delight through her body. And never once did she look away from me. I'd never seen anything so erotic in my entire life.

When, at last, her man was spent, she let go of his now flaccid cock, and I released the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I hadn't orgasmed as my wife suggested could happen, but I was right on the edge, with a racing heart and a rigid, dripping wet dick. Powerful waves of lust that the blonde's demonstration had generated coursed through me. The slightest touch would have set me off. I sat stock still, stewing in boiling lust, and willed myself to calm down. With a look in her eye that screamed

Watch this

, she performed one final lascivious act. She scooped up a fingerful of the pearly cum oozing from her pussy and seductively licked her dripping finger clean. The blonde's eyes were dancing with light as she blew me a kiss and then laid down next to her partner. She was at last done with me.

I stayed on the couch for a long while, letting my heart rate and breathing return to normal, and the rock-hard erection between my legs subside. Watching the blonde's exhibitionism had been more stirring than I'd ever thought possible. I'd almost orgasmed just watching her performance, and there was no doubt that it had been a performance - one she'd explicitly directed to me. I stood up and walked back to the bar on wobbly legs. It took some effort, but I didn't look back at the bed.

"You feeling okay, hon?" My wife asked when I sat next to her. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something." I completely missed the wry smile on her face.

I shook my head. "I feel good." I waved for the bartender to bring me a drink.

My wife rubbed her hand over my thigh, then gripped my still half-inflated cock. "Mmm. You

do

feel good," she murmured in my ear. My dick hardened in her grasp. "I wholeheartedly approve of whatever you did to get this way." A mischievous light danced in her eyes, but my addled brain missed it. The conversation that had been going on in my absence resumed, and I was quickly pulled into it. I forgot about the look my wife had given me.

Even though images of the erotic performance I'd witnessed danced in my head, I was absorbed in the animated discussion with our friends and didn't see the blonde until she was right next to us. She wrapped her arm around my wife's waist and then kissed her on the lips. "He was great, such an appreciative audience."

My wife smiled. I was shocked that she wasn't taken aback or even surprised by the blonde's behavior. "I'm glad."

With her arm still around my wife's waist, the light-haired beauty turned to me. She brushed her thumb over my lips, which were gaped open in surprise, and said. "Your turn." She nodded toward the poolside bed and sofa where we'd shared our erotic experience. My breath caught in my chest as I realized it was in plain view of the swim-up bar. Then she turned and walked away.

"Goodie!" My wife grabbed my hand and pulled me to the hot tub steps. I don't remember what she said as she led me to the bed. I do recall the sparkle in my wife's eye as she pushed me flat on the mattress. And I will never forget how she looked toward the couch, just feet away, where the statuesque blonde sat with her eyes glued on my wife's.