Calm Waves: Raging Intentions Pt. 1
A trip is fast approaching; something you've been dreading for weeks. Jessica, your wife is someone you simply cannot deal with anymore. Haven't felt a warm sensual touch from her in exactly 4 years now. She doesn't attempt to make you happy, she never cares to raise your spirits and is cold to you. You're almost certain she's cheating on you; you know who it is. That snarky 19-year-old down the street. Jake is 6'3 with wavy brunette hair, nicely tanned skin, a toned yet slim body, and one of those baby faces. What 19-year-old is doing all the lawn work and lifting heavy things for a married 27-year-old woman? You see that disgusting look he gives her every time he passes by and she's so pathetic she can't hide her excitement. However, the worst part is you want him and are jealous that your wife is screwing him.
What 29-year-old man fantasizes about being bred by a 19-year boy? There are 3 cold truths of reality for you: first, your looks have diminished from age, and working 45 hours a week at a law firm for years now. Your short and curly dirty blonde hair is thinning with an ever so slight bald spot on the back of your head. That ripped body from your college basketball days is long gone. Being 6'2 and roughly 225lbs you can get away with the extra weight but it's not appealing to your wife. The small gut accompanied by the hairy chest scares her off. The second bit of reality is that she's only with you for your money, her family knows but doesn't care in the slightest. They would even guilt you if you did think about leaving her. The third bit of reality is you're a 29-year-old man who's secretly bisexual yet have never gotten with another man.
You can't fight the urges anymore, consistently when your wife is not around you get on your back and then finger yourself with your eyes closed. You pump your 6-and-a-half-inch cock and moan in pleasure as ropes of cum escape your penis. That's been happening for the last 3 years now. You refused to do such things to yourself when you reached a breaking point a few years ago when your wife stopped touching you entirely.
For the first time in 6 years, you'll be taking time off from work for vacation, with your wife. After your wife voiced many loud opinions and insults you got a 2-room suite at a well-known 4-star hotel in Miami.
" Riley, did you pack all the clothes I told you to pack? I'm not walking with a grown man that looks like a bum in Miami," Jessica said.
"Yes honey," you said while rolling your eyes.
"I packed spf 100 sunscreen too for that pale pasty skin, don't want you to look worse off than you already do," Jessica said while typing hastily on her phone.
You put all the bags in your 2012 beat-up blue Honda, by yourself. Luckily, for you, the 4-hour drive was just her nagging about drama with her girlfriends and ignoring any feedback you gave. When you stepped out of the car your nostrils were struck with the salty scent of the sea. The Florida sun was beating down on your skin as if a swarm of bees were attacking you. Your wife gave you a look of embarrassment as she could tell you were already getting uncomfortable from the blazing heat of the sun. Of course, she didn't comfort you, she grabbed her purse and went straight to the hotel. Leaving all the bags for you to get alone.
After finally grabbing the bags and luggage you head to the room with your wife sitting down and strolling through Instagram. You on the other hand took 3 trips; all the luggage carts were miraculously being used. You kicked off your orange and gray size 13 running shoes exposing your sweating meaty feet. Your wife had a look of disgust.
"God, those things look and smell foul, thank the lord I have my own room, I'd scream if those things touched my body while I'm asleep," Jessica said with a rude tone.
You then took your sweat-soaked cherry-red shirt off and squeezed the sweat out with a huge grin. A dozen or so drops of sweat hit the carpet floor as if it were raining. Jessica's facial expression went feral.
"I'm sorry, Jessica, it's hard doing all the work yourself, you know?" you said with a grin.
"You're a nasty pig, do whatever the fuck you want to, you better be showered and well-dressed by 7 PM to take me out to that Brazilian Steak house," Jessica shouted as she entered her room and then slammed the door.
That's the first time in months you're given her backbone, it felt good to say the less. You pulled down your black cotton shorts followed by your gray sweat-stained boxers then your white ankle socks. You didn't even bother to move them; you left them in the middle of the hotel room. You then proceed to your bathroom and hop into the shower. The provided bar soap smelled like eucalyptus and mint. You lathered up your whole body from head to toe, you then closed your eyes as the showerhead poured hot steamy water on you.
You grabbed your cock firmly with your left hand as you began to gently stroke yourself. While your right hand was playing with your nipples. You began to imagine if Jake bent you over instead of your wife, he must have a massive cock to make your wife so happy. You just want to make out with him while your erections are against each other leaking precum everywhere. You want to feel him kiss your neck as he gives you hickeys. You want to feel his warm saliva hit your hole as his tongue fucks you. You open your eyes and realized you were moaning out loud beating your meat rapidly. Your penis has 5 and a half inches of girth, it's always felt good to hold your fully erect penis in your hands. Even though your wife thinks it's small.
You hop out of the shower then grab a cashew-colored towel to dry yourself off. You're going to cum later tonight while fingering the fuck out of yourself. You go to your suitcase and become appalled. Your wife didn't pack you swimming trunks, she pack you a bright neon pink Speedo and a stone grey Speedo.
"What the FUCK!" you shouted in anger.
You try to enter her room but the door is locked, so you resort to knocking aggressively. You're livid, you don't have the confidence to go out like that in public, especially at such a well-known beach with thousands of people. She opens to door to give you a look.
"You don't wear clothes now? You're just going to stroll around the hotel room naked huh?" she said while staring at your cock.
"Why didn't you pack my swimming trunks? Is this supposed to be some sick prank? You said I wasn't capable of packing my own clothes," you shouted.
"It's been years since you yelled at me and with a raging boner too huh? I think the speedos go nice with your dump truck ass. Only if your cock was big as your ass," she said rolling her eyes.
Your face was blood red with rage, and the veins on your neck and face popped up as if a volcanic eruption was about to occur. She gave you a condescending look before she closed the door on your face. It's barely noon and you don't want to be stuck in this suite doing nothing, especially not with her around. You inhaled through your nose deeply to calm yourself.
"So, I have no choice but to wear these," you depressingly said.
You grab the stone gray speedo and then put it on, in addition, you take a lavender-colored beach towel and slide into your black flip-flops. Lastly, you put on the highlighter yellow risk band for the hotel. You had to carry a backpack for your phone, wallet, and sunscreen because your speedo had no pockets. You've never felt so exposed in your life, only a pair of speedos and black flip-flops covering your pale body. You walked to the elevator quickly as possible. The intense humidity outside was already making you sweat. A breeze of relief has occurred that no one else is waiting for the elevator or in the elevator. When you reach the ground floor your eyes are wide open with fear. Rainbow flags everywhere dozens of men wearing speedos, men making out, etc. Before you could even react a man began to approach you.
"Fuckkk, you're really hot man, you're rocking that dad bod," a man said with a large smile.
He was about 5'10 with brown eyes and a muscular physique, He was shirtless and had a farmer's tan. Unlike you, however, he was wearing swimming trunks. They were a leather brown with bright green leaves. If you had to guess he looked like he was in his early twenties.
"Um, tha-thank you," you said quietly as you blushed.
"Oh, you must be the shy type, or maybe you have a husband or boyfriend. Oh, and my name is Joe," Joe replied.
