Just Another Rainy Day at The Beach in Paradise
I discovered very early in my life that I am an inveterate voyeur. My most fulfilling, most erotic sexual experiences have always involved watching. Watching movies. Watching television. Watching on the Internet. Even watching in my minds eye as I read stories. Naturally, I simply enjoy watching women as they go about their daily activities. Shapely legs, undulating hips and swaying breasts are always a treat. Most especially however, is watching the arousal of the woman I am with, sharing the escalation of her sexual pleasure and eventually watching her as she loses control herself in the throes of an orgasm. Strangely, this visual experience is perhaps even more sexually satisfying to me than my own physical pleasure. I find nothing more exciting than watching the facial expressions of my wife of 18 years as I bring her to orgasm. It follows somewhat naturally that I would love to make a video of her as she experiences an orgasm - just for my own pleasure of course. I had never even suggested this idea as I was sure she would soundly veto it! Even more so, my ultimate fantasy has always been that of watching as she is seduced - being sexually aroused and eventually being brought to orgasm at the hands of another man. In all honesty I've never been one hundred percent certain as to how I would actually handle the situation even in a non-threatening, non-emotional, strictly physical scenario as fantasy is one thing, reality is yet another! I'm aware that my desire is not unique as I've often read of other men watching such seductions and have found these narratives to be extremely stimulating - but only when related tastefully without coarseness or vulgarity - which, unfortunately, is quite rare.
My wife's name is Gerlinde. But everyone calls her Geri. Geri is a rather attractive, voluptuous, blonde blue-eyed woman who was born in Germany having spent her childhood and early adult years in a small town in Bavaria. As she was brought up in a conservative religious Lutheran environment she has never been accepting of any variation or "experimentation" involving our sexual activity - actually bordering on the puritanical. In addition she has this need "to be in control of herself" in any situation whenever possible. Her dislike of flying would probably be overcome if she were at the controls of the plane. She enjoys limited amounts of alcoholic drinks and absolutely no recreational drugs! Never remotely the exhibitionist she invariably dresses in a quite conservative, prim and proper non-revealing manner. I'm not even sure if she owns a two-piece bathing suit although she certainly has the figure for one. The mere suggestion of going to a topless beach was "Ridiculous!" When I finally got up the nerve to suggest that some evening we might make a video of our lovemaking, and sheepishly mentioned to her my fantasy of watching her with another man, she adamantly and prudishly replied - "You want me on display? Don't count on it! There's not the remotest possibility of any of that ever happening. I'm not putting on a show for you. Besides, you talk a good game, but you're so possessive that if any man so much as touched me, even innocently, you'd have a fit. Remember, having a fantasy is not the same as actually letting something take place! You probably would regret it for the rest of your life. But - Die Gedanken sind frei." - Your thoughts are free. And so, my fantasy remained just that for the 18 years of our marriage, merely a fantasy.
We have a decent lifestyle. I'm an attorney with a successful law firm in Westchester County, New York, and Geri is division manager with a German manufacturing company in nearby Connecticut. Although no longer "spring chickens" we have kept in good shape with Geri doing yoga, playing tennis and riding her bike together with me whenever the weather permits. I'm an active tennis and softball player and whatever exercise machines we have at our disposal get used on a regular basis. Each autumn, when the New York weather starts to become chilly, gray and bleak, we vacation in the warmth of our favorite Caribbean island - comfortable, not extravagant.
We spent the next to last day of our most recent fall vacation on the island at a first rate hotel lounging alone together on their excellent beach. We were sitting near to the pool, sipping piña coladas, reading, and alternately basking in the sunshine, snorkeling off a nearby reef in the gentle Caribbean surf and cooling off with an occasional dip in the hotel's pool where we could sit at the in-the-water bar and refresh our drinks.
Our solitary reverie was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a handsome gentleman, approximately our age, who had been reclining on a nearby lounge chair. He apologized for any intrusion and asked if he had detected a German accent in my wife's speech. He had a distinct German accent and indeed so does Geri. With this we introduced ourselves and politely invited him to move his chair over and join us. During our chatting we discovered that he too was originally from Bavaria with him and his wife still living in Germany. He was temporarily to be in the U.S. while on assignment working for a prominent German pharmaceutical company of which he was head chemist and vice president. He appeared to be an affable fellow, alone on the island while enjoying a brief couple of days vacation before reporting to the American offices of his company in California. And so we made arrangements for the three of us to meet for dinner that evening. Geri and I then excused ourselves and went to our bungalow for an afternoon nap.
Kurt, as was his name, met us for dinner. The evening was quite pleasant and the food excellent. The three of us shared a bottle of fine German Riesling as we became better acquainted and enjoyed each other's company – chatting and joking. Kurt and Geri discussed the many similar remembrances of their early days in Bavaria. Both Kurt and Geri speak perfect German, and although I do understand some German, they politely spoke exclusively English so as not to exclude me from the conversation. Once dinner was completed and the wine finished we went outside and sat by the pool, watched the moon rise over the Caribbean and enjoyed a nightcap together. Eventually we bid each other 'good night' and went to our separate rooms.
That next day was sadly our last in this lush tropical paradise before having to head back early the next morning to the depressing bare trees and chill winds of the oncoming winter of New York. As I recall, Geri and I spent that morning strolling along the beach down by the sea, hand in hand, looking for shells. Later we went to relax at our favorite spot on the sparking white sand beach close by the hotel's pool. Kurt happened by and joined us for lunch on the beach and an afternoon of peaceful lolling about in the tropical warmth enjoying our last moments of the delightful beach, alternately sunning ourselves, cooling off in the sea, reading, sipping our drinks (why is it that rum drinks always taste better on a beach!?) and engaging in idle conversation.
Without warning, as if from some horror film, the sky darkened, lightning flashed and a torrential cloudburst poured down soaking the three of us. The wind and rain whipped about us as we hastily gathered our books, towels and other paraphernalia and hurriedly scrambled to the safety of the indoors. As Kurt's bungalow was the nearest to the beach we decided to wait there until what we hoped to be a brief tropical storm had passed. Since we were sopping wet and the air-conditioner was going full blast Kurt suggested that we get into something dry. Geri needed no urging as she scurried shivering into the bathroom. I accompanied her and there we removed our wet bathing suits, toweled off, and each put on one of the hotel's plush white bathrobes which were hanging conveniently on brass pegs. Geri wrapped a towel around her head and by the time we returned from the bathroom Kurt had turned off the AC and had slipped into a white T-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He kindly uncorked a bottle of Asbach Uralt - a German brandy - to help take the chill off and poured each of us a generous glass full. He also offered us some fine German chocolates. Kurt and I took the chairs while Geri curled up on the high king size bed which was covered with a dark forest green comforter. It became apparent that the storm wasn't about to pass as quickly as we had hoped so the three of us relaxed, chatted, sipped our brandy, nibbled the chocolates, listened to the rain beating down and counted the seconds between the lightning flashes and the thunder claps.
Kurt explained that his wife had been complaining bitterly for some time about his business schedule which all too frequently kept him away for extended periods of time. When two weeks before he was to leave he told her of this most recent trip she was not at all happy with the prospect of being left alone again and had suggested that they see a marriage counselor. But since she was plainly anticipating feeling abandoned once again this was probably just her annoyance speaking. They had continued on cool but cordial terms for the two week period still sleeping in the same bed albeit without physical contact. As he was preparing to leave Kurt told his wife that he finally realized she was right about his travels. She was obviously pleased when he told her that he had instructed his company that he was severely limiting any future business trips, and if travel was absolutely necessary he would take her with him, if she wished, whenever possible. Kurt still felt quite sure she would have a change of heart when he returned to Germany from this trip. Whatever, he was confident they would work things out and had remained faithful since their initial discussion.
I noticed that Geri had dozed off so Kurt and I waited out the storm, sipped our brandy, and continued our discussions about work, politics, hobbies, marriage and - as men will - women. Somewhere during our conversation, for what I now realize must have been some subconscious motivation, I admitted to him that I had this fantasy. He nodded and without being specific confessed that everyone has fantasies, he as well, but his wife too had wanted no part of anything she considered - as she put it "außergewöhnlich" - out of the ordinary. Apparently Kurt's marital relations were as constrained as ours.
The room was quiet except for music playing softly somewhere in the background and the sound of the wind blown rain tapping on the surface of the sliding glass doors accompanied by the occasional rumble of thunder. The only illumination came from a dimly lit lamp in the corner, occasional flashes of lightning and whatever soft greenish light the dark tropical storm permitted to filter through the glass doors.
