The first time I shared my wife with another man, she was actually my girlfriend. We were twenty-two-years-old, enjoying our first holiday together in Mallorca, Spain. The trip got off to bad start when we landed on the island to be told our hotel was over booked. We were relocated and compensated with lots of vouchers to freely access shows and attractions.
Not too bad, my girlfriend Becky and I thought, until we checked into the hotel and discovered it was full of old folk. I'm talking over fifties. I marched straight up to the woman representing our tour operator and tried my very best to politely demand we be transferred to a hotel with people our own age.
No chance, I was quickly told, with lots of apologies and more free vouchers. Becky mellowed and accepted the situation sooner than I did, but in the end, it was what it was. We tried sunbathing by the pool, but the old guys couldn't keep their eyes off Becky, and the old women kept frowning at her choice of bikinis.
Becky is 5'7 with shoulder length, brown hair and matching brown eyes, she had a lovely, slender figure and a cracking pair of DD cup tits at twenty-two and her bikinis showed off that ravishing figure.
Put off being anywhere near our hotel, we ended up sunbathing on the beach in the day and then drinking and clubbing at night, whilst using our free vouchers in between.
There was one particular fella at the hotel named Burt, he was sixty-one and on holiday with his older brother Alfie, Burt was the joker around the hotel. Whenever he caught us coming and going, he would offer us his sympathies and take the piss out everybody else as if he was our age. Becky and I thought he was very funny and friendly.
On our last night, we returned to the hotel early, around 11pm. The bar was still open, so we stopped for a drink before going to bed. Burt was chatting to an old couple until we caught his attention. He told us Alfie turned in early and then he insisted on buying us a drink.
Burt was full of jokes and funny stories about his time in the navy, and not once did he make Becky feel uncomfortable. Even when she went to the toilet, he never made any comments to me about her being "beautiful" or the classic one I often get is, "you're a very lucky man, Joey."
When the bar closed, we were having such a great time, we didn't think anything of it when Burt invited us up to his apartment for one last drink. It turned out we were on the same floor, so it was hard to say no to him.
Quiet, not to wake Alfie, Burt took us out onto the balcony, where we sat drinking beers. It was still very warm with a cool breeze coming off the sea.
We didn't go out clubbing on our last night, Becky was wearing a denim skirt, sandals and a blouse crop top. It held her big tits securely in place, but she was still displaying a creamy, inviting cleavage with her hair cascading down her shoulders.
We became horny drinking and laughing, discreetly flirting in front of Burt. If he noticed he never said anything or acted inappropriately. Becky knew she was in for a good seeing to as soon as we got back to our apartment. She loved dirty, drunken sex. It was when the fantasy talk came out.
We'd been dating for three years, and although we were only nineteen when we first met, Becky had an adventurous appetite when it came to sex. She was surprising me with lingerie before I ever thought of suggesting it to her, and she loved the thrill of outdoor sex. I don't think we ever finished a movie at the cinema without her sucking me off or me finger-banging her to an orgasm. Not that I'm complaining, we were in love, having great fun.
I also had a 'thing' about watching my girlfriend getting fucked by another guy and then watching her coming hard on his cock. Becky wasn't grossed out by the thought of it, she thought it was hot too, but it was definitely only a fantasy. It wasn't something I was obsessed with either, and I most certainly wasn't thinking about old man Burt fucking my young girlfriend.
The guy was sixty-one. He was about 5'8, bald and flabby around the waist, I wouldn't even say he was good looking for his age either, he was just a funny, nice guy to know on holiday.
However, as our last drinks gradually went down the hatch, Burt asked us if we still managed to enjoy our holiday after the hotel cock-up. We said we had, then he asked why we weren't out still clubbing at our age.
"We just fancied an early night, so we can catch a bit more sun before we fly back tomorrow," Becky answered.
"Well, it was supposed to be an early night, until some old timer roped us in to getting pissed with him," I chuckled at Burt. We all laughed while Alfie slept like a baby inside.
"Less of the old, I still got moves," Burt joked, standing up to give us a little dance.
"Sorry to break it to you, old timer," I continued teasing him. "But the music has moved on. Nobody dances like that anymore, except at weddings."
"Don't be so mean, Joey," Becky laughed, sticking up for Burt.
"Ahhhh, your boyfriends probably right, Becky. I've never been much of a dancer anyway. The bedroom was where I showed the ladies my best moves."
I burst out laughing while Burt finished the dregs of his beer. Becky was laughing and blushing, not quite believing what she heard.
"Sorry, Becky, I didn't mean to embarrass you, love," he chuckled.
"I'm not embarrassed, it's good to know the male ego doesn't change as men get older. I'll have that to look forward to with Joey," she replied sarcastically then rolled her eyes at me.
"No ego here, Becky, women love big Burt," the old man chuckled hard.
It was just a bit of drunken chat which had wandered carelessly. I found it as funny as Burt did, and even Becky was amused really.
"Big Burt? What the fuck?" she laughed at our host.
"Yeah, that's right, big Burt, that's what the ladies used to call me, some down at the bingo hall still do," he winked with a grin, spreading his legs as he grabbed the crotch area of his khaki trouser shorts. "Big Burt!" he laughed.
Becky suddenly looked flushed with a sparkle of curiosity in her eyes, leaving me feeling a little bit insecure. I'm only six inches and I'm not ashamed of it, but what Burt grabbed between his legs was way bigger than what I had between mine.
"Anyway, it's time for that last beer!" he announced, getting up to get us three fresh ones.
Becky looked at me. "Did you see the size of that thing he grabbed?" she gasped.
"Yeah, and you seemed very excited by it," I chuckled quietly.
"No, I didn't," she sat up blushing, becoming defensive.
"Don't lie, your eyes lit up like a firework. All girls are curious about a big one," I shrugged, making it sound ok. "Or maybe it's just because you're drunk."
Becky laughed. "I hate how you can read me like a book. Does it make me a bad girlfriend that I want to see how big it is?"
"You want to see an old man's cock?"
"No, I just want to... ah, forget it. You're right, I am drunk. We're all drunk." Becky tried to laugh it off as innocent fun, but I was suddenly turned on by my girlfriend openly admitting that she wanted to see how big Burt's cock was.
"It doesn't make you a bad girlfriend... if doesn't make me a bad boyfriend to admit I want to watch you touch it."
"Touch what?" Burt suddenly reappeared, carrying three cans of beer.
"Uh, nothing!" Becky gasped, accepting one of the drinks.
