A Niggle Of Guilt

All characters are over eighteen.

I'm standing under the shower, and I can't believe what I just did this afternoon. I can't explain it...or possibly I don't want to. It would be a lie to say I regret it, but I am feeling very guilty. Let's face it I cheated. Something I swore I would never do. I mean It was just sex, not attachment, not romance...certainly not love. I suppose you'd call it lust. I'm Jennifer Albee, I'm twenty-eight and you'll have guessed by now I'm married...married to the love of my life, the man who makes my every day special. Fuck, shit! There's no reason he'll ever know, but I will. It's my guilty secret that I'll carry to the grave.

Greg and I got married right out of college. We were both studying biochemistry and graduated with honours together. I think we are a case of opposites attract. I'm socially outgoing, Greg is more of the strong silent type, but with a hilarious and clever sense of humour. Once he's in the mix he can be enormously entertaining. All my friends love him.

We're both outdoorsy and athletic; I'm the kind who'll join in a pick-up game of anything, baseball, soccer, volleyball, even field hockey, while Greg is in his element running long distances, marathons, and such. At college he was the long-distance track star and a promising decathlete. We both love hiking and winter sports, skiing, and snowboarding, and have been on a couple of great winter vacations together. What we hadn't done until now was have a beach holiday, time in the sun together.

We got married in September of 2019 and were both starting our new jobs. Mine in industry and Greg's in Academe as a researcher and an assistant professor. The plan was to have our honeymoon in the Caribbean at Spring Break in mid-March. Everything was booked at an all-inclusive resort on Mexico and then the pandemic. We thought of ignoring the warnings, but the agency said we could get a full refund and as people were already getting sick, we reluctantly postponed everything.

This past Christmas we were talking about our careers and Greg brought up the topic of children. I'm at a point where I'm established in my job. I know they wouldn't be squirrely if I took pregnancy leave as long as they have a bit of notice. Somehow that conversation led to the idea of our having our belated honeymoon. I know Greg thinks I'll come off the pill and bang I'll get pregnant, but I know it generally takes about three months even If I stop right away. My friend Angie waited almost a year.

Anyway, we made our booking and here we are on vacation in a secluded beach location. The only drawback is Greg has some papers to mark, but we knew that wouldn't be a big deal. That first evening after our arrival at the resort we fucked like rabbits. We started the following morning the same way. Then after a late breakfast we spent the remainder of our first glorious day on the resort's not overly publicized nude beach. Well, clothing optional, but if you going to stay covered why not stay on the main beach. Yes, almost everyone including us was naked and it felt delicious especially swimming in the ocean. Back in the room we couldn't stop ourselves celebrating again before heading to dinner. Isn't this what honeymoons are meant to be about. Delay had only made it sweeter.

That was another thing I should mention; Greg is a red head and burns easily so he has to ration his time in the sun. The second day we went on a snorkelling adventure with a group, and it was super fun, but Greg got a bit overexposed and so no sex that evening. He decided he should take the next day off and mark papers in our room or on the balcony when it was in shade.

We had planned a sail to a small island the next day where we could do more snorkelling just the two of us. The problem is Greg's the one who can sail. First thing in the morning we went to the sport shop to cancel or at least postpone, but one of the twenty-year old assistants in the sports shop, his name is James, said he could take me out for the day if I still wanted to go. Greg said I should, so I agreed. After breakfast indoors we went up to the room. I put on a blouse and light cotton pants over my bikini and packed a beach bag with my book, towel, hat, sunglasses, sunscreen and a wrap, kissed Greg goodbye and headed for the meeting point at the beach.

As soon as I got there, I saw James. As I say, he's in his early twenties with rich ebony-colored skin and a very self-assured manner. At six-three he towers over me. I'm a tad over five-eight and weight a hundred and thirty pounds, give or take a pound or two, mostly muscle. I'm considered attractive and I like my body; I'm fit and have nice pert breasts with perky nipples, which I could feel inside my bikini top as I looked at James.

He was wearing a brightly colored shirt and boardshorts and holding the tether of a jet ski, which floated nearby.

"Hi, James, aren't we going by boat? Where's the snorkelling stuff?"

"No worry, my friend leave everything there already. We be quicker this way." He moved into the water, and I removed my sandals and my cotton pants and stuck them in my bag. "No point in getting them wet," I thought and then I became acutely conscious of the skimpiness of my bikini thong as I mounted the jet ski and felt the hot leather against my cheeks. He indicated I should sit in front of him and then he reached round me to grip the handles. In a minute we were gliding out carefully avoiding any swimmers and then he opened up the throttle and I was thrown back against him, but he was solid as a rock and not going anywhere. I readjusted my bum on the seat and felt him behind me.

Yes, I could definitely feel him behind me, and something firm pressed against my bum crack. Whether it was his balls or the base of his penis I couldn't tell, but it was certainly something and I found myself trying to work out exactly what. Each time we jumped over the swell there it was, and I felt it might be growing. The overall feeling of riding the jet ski in the bright sunshine was exhilarating and with the constant jostling of his boardshorts against my bum I couldn't help feeling somewhat aroused.

After twenty minutes I could see the island and five minutes later we glided into a sand strip on the far side. James hopped off and helped me down. It seemed there was a significant bulge in his boardshorts that might be escaping them under his shirt. As soon as I was on the sand, he pulled the jet ski up onto the sand and secured it to a tree with twenty feet of rope.

"Welcome," he said with a big grin on his face. "Here we are. Let me show you where everything is," and he walked across the level sand and into a curtain of sea grape. I followed and there was a simple shed. He opened the door and pulled out an umbrella and a chair. These were followed by a cooler, a plastic laundry basket with various fins, masks, wet shoes, and snorkels and some clean towels. These he placed on the chair.

"Where do we snorkel?" I asked.

"Over there!" and he pointed through the sea grape to an opening on the far side where I could see a long promontory of rock.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offered, opening the cooler, "A beer or a rum punch?"

I hesitated. "Or I have a mimosa mix?"

"Yes, that sound right," I said thinking it was a little early for rum. I'm not so big on beer.

He poured me a large Styrofoam beaker and filled another for himself, "Cheers!" he said.

"Cheers!" I replied and we bumped beakers.

As I took a sip of the ice coo liquid, he put his down in the sand and pulled his shirt over his head revealing his hairless chest and well defined six pack. I took another longer drink, not quite a gulp, as I stared at him. He was not even looking at me, in fact he turned his back as he undid the top of his boardshorts and slid them down his legs. For a second, I thought he was naked but then I saw the strip of material between his butt cheeks. He seemed to be adjusting himself as he turned back towards me.

I was gobsmacked. He was wearing a speedo type thong that left nothing to the imagination It was so well filled that when he bent over to picked up his beaker, I was sure his massive maleness would burst forth. He straightened up and as he stood there drinking and I found I had finished my whole beaker. I turned it upside down to be certain.

"Would you like another?" he asked.

"Er, no, no thank you," I replied and immediately I thought, "I need to pee."

"I need to pee." There I had said it out loud.

"You could go back there or in the ocean, your choice. I'll wait here," he said.

Although yesterday Greg and I had been cavorting naked, suddenly alone with this stranger I felt shy. I hesitated and looked towards the shade of the sea grape and moved in that direction. It was buggy and I kept walking until I exited on to the rocky shelf beyond. There I lowered myself into a shallow pool, slipped my bottoms to my ankles and let my pee flow. Finished, I pulled up the bottoms and clambered out. He was waiting peaceably on the chair when I re-emerged from the sea grape curtain.

I almost felt disappointed he had not bothered to peep. I hoped he did not think I had peed myself as my thong was dripping.

"Can we snorkel now?" I asked.

"Of course, I think these will fit you," he said holding up a pair of fins as he handed me a snorkel and mask. "I'll accompany you to point things out."

He picked up his own equipment and a couple of towels and I followed him through the sea grape. He washed our masks in the same pool where I had just peed, but I said nothing. I'm sure the salt water purifies everything. I felt my wet thong chaffing against my thighs and as soon as I was in the actual ocean I quietly slipped it off and laid it to dry on a rock. I lifted my bum on to a rock and pulled on my fins.

As I was doing this he said, "If you don't mind, I'll swim naked too. No need to get my suit wet."

"Of course," I said sliding back into the water. He was still standing on the rocks, and he bent and slid of his thong off in one lithe movement freeing his manhood. I was once again gobsmacked. No other word for it. Greg and I had once shared a giggle looking at something like this on a porn site, but this was in the flesh and directly above me. It was hanging there quite flaccid, but it must have been close to eight inches long and it was thick. I found myself swallowing the saliva that suddenly filled my mouth.

I looked away and adjusted my mask and let myself slide forward below the surface. I could feel my pulse beating in my ears and I won't describe the feelings in my groin. I just knew my nipples were on fire and I was wet from more than the ocean. It was an absolutely visceral response from my lizard brain. I tried to clear my brain and couldn't as I swam steadily forward not really seeing anything. The water was clear enough, my mind wasn't until James tapped my arm and pointed down at an octopus on the seafloor. Focussing I realised there were starfish down there and black spiky urchins on the rocks to my right. I instinctively moved left and felt something brush against my leg and I knew what it was. I hoped he did not think my move was deliberate because it certainly wasn't.

At this point in my narrative, I should probably pause to say I am not a blushing virgin. Yes, I know I've been married almost five years, but I'm talking before that. I lost my virginity the year before college, and I was popular in college. I had lots of dates and although I wouldn't describe myself as promiscuous, I had my fair share of partners. Let's face it I enjoy sex, good sex...a lot. Greg by contrast had not. He'd had one lasting relationship with a girl who wanted to be a virgin queen. I think they had masturbated each other to climax, and she let him go down on her quite a few times, but I gave him his first blowjobs and I took his cherry. I made a very conscious decision that I would honour my marriage vows and I absolutely have.

So, what had me in such a turmoil. It wasn't as though we hadn't recently had sex...really satisfying sex. It was just the thought of that cock and to be honest I think it frightened me as much as it captivated me. It's not as though I haven't had a few good-sized ones. Greg is a good six and a half inches, not my biggest, I had had a couple that were a bit larger, but Greg's was not a size I was ever going to complain about. It was in fact a perfect size for regular sex like we enjoyed. I knew if anything happened with James it would be a one off, even as I convinced myself nothing was going to happen.

We swam around and saw some interesting fish. James wanted to show me a ray he knew lived here but we couldn't find it and after close to an hour we gave up. James got out first after slipping off his fins and had me do the same. I passed them up to him and then he took my hand and helped me up. My face must have passed within inches of it, but I tried not to notice even though my palms were no the only part of me that felt clammy

We walked back through to the sand bar and started a conversation as we dried in the sunshine. After I accepted a rum punch, I sat on a towel on the chair while he stretched out below me. I asked him about his life, his interests his aspirations. He was smart. The job in the sports shop was a stop gap. Next Fall he was ready to go to a local university to study business and tourism. He would have liked to study Art, but he had a firm grip on the reality of his prospects.

After a bit I realized I should redo my sunscreen even though I was mostly under the umbrella. James got up and asked if he could help me. I asked if he could just do my back where it was difficult to reach. He obliged and while I continued to make sure I was fully covered he opened the cooler and produced some smoked salmon and lettuce sandwiches and a half bottle of white wine. The shop obviously had an arrangement with the resort kitchen because everything was first rate.

There was a lull in the conversation as I was finishing my second glass and, on impulse, I asked him if I could hold it...I mean IT. That's all I wanted to do, honestly. Just to feel the heft of it. I did not expect this kind of opportunity again. I knew it was naughty, but I was feeling a little naughty and it wasn't as though I was drunk. He said okay, if I was sure, and I said I was. He stood in front of me, and I lifted it and laid it along my forearm. It lay there and I sensed his heartbeat through the big vein that ran its whole length from just below the big bulbous head to his groin.

I lifted it upright and stroked it. I found that when I put both my hands around it, my fingers just touched, there was still a little room. It had to have grown. With my left hand I lifted his large scrotum and ran my fingers over his balls. I was totally engrossed, any thoughts of what I was doing had evaporated as I spat on the head and stroked him harder. I heard him sigh, but he wasn't resisting. I leaned forward and licked the head and raised it upright again as I licked down the underside and smelled his muskiness.

I knew what I wanted to do. I stood up and manoeuvred him onto the chair and then facing him I spread my legs and moved forward to straddle him. My heart was beating out of my chest this was so wrong but felt so right. This was the first time he had played an active part as he felt my wetness with his fingers and rubbed it up and down my clit. I was ready to come as he pushed a fingertip in me and then gently parted my labia. Slowly he began to guide me down onto his cock. I had a moment of clarity and wondered what the hell I was doing but the feel of slowly sliding down and being filled by him drove any sanity from my mind as I was already experiencing a throbbing in my vagina. He was helping me as I lifted myself up and down and I knew I was very close, the ripples building that foreshadow the coming storm. And a storm it was, a tempest that ripped through me with a violence I had never previously known. I collapsed in his lap my head on his shoulder. I was crying...I can only call them tears of extasy, of intense primal emotion.

He was patting my back in a soothing manner and then he helped me stand. He offered me the last of the wine, maybe half a glass, as I stood there in a daze. It was then I noticed his condition. He was still very erect. I had orgasmed but he had not come. Without a second thought I lay down, took his hand, and pulled him down to me. I spread my legs and pulled up my knees in open invitation. I revelled in his re-entry even though I wasn't quite as wet. In this position he had full control and although he started gently, he was soon thrusting as vigorously as he was able. I experienced another shuddering orgasm and as it subsided, he gasped, and I felt his release flood within me.

We lay there for several minutes until I relaxed and let my legs fall back to the ground. Slowly he pulled out and at once I sensed his anxiety. He clearly was panicked about what I might say. Was I the kind of woman who would accuse him of raping me? Could he really be thinking that? To allay such fears, I thanked him for a wonderful experience and said I hoped I had not been too forward with him. I think he accepted I was sincere because he cheered up and said it had been his pleasure and I'm sure he was being truthful.

He packed up while I went for a swim and tried to rinse out as much of his cum as I could. I put on my bikini top and shirt but decided not to put on the bikini bottoms for the ride back I was still leaking too much. Everything we had not brought went back in the shed and he said someone would be back to collect it later.

When we got close to the beach, I dropped off the jet ski and fastened my bikini bottoms before wading through the surf on to the beach. James tossed me my bag with everything including my cotton pants and with a wave of thanks I headed back to our room. When I was about half-way to the lobby, I turned and headed over to the nude section. I wasn't entirely surprised to find Greg sitting in the shade at the bar wearing a shirt and nothing else chatting to an attractive woman about my age. They were both perched on towel covered stools as they sipped their drinks.

He saw me.

"Hi Jenn, meet Melanie she and her husband live in Tupelo. You remember Tupelo, Elvis Presley's birthplace we stopped there on our way to Texas two years ago."

"Of course! Hi Melanie, where's your man?"

"Oh, he's either on the golf course or back in our room. He's not so much one for sunbathing. He already had one scare with cancer."

"That's too bad."

"Well, Greg here has been keeping me entertained. I gather you went on a snorkelling trip. How was that?"

"Very good."

"Good, well I should probably be getting back and let you two catch up."

"No don't leave. I just wanted to let Greg know I was back, but I really need to shower and get the sand and salt off me."

With that I left and headed to our room. The papers Greg had been marking were on the credenza and I noted the bed was a little rumpled. I expect Greg took a nap. I better not start projecting my guilt on to Greg. I strip and everything goes straight into the dirty bag. I can rinse everything out later. I reach in and turn on the shower. I step under the rainhead and let the water rinse everything off me. Melanie seems nice. Maybe we'll get to know them better. We still have five days left. I try to feel regret but can't. It was amazing...a once in a lifetime experience but I know cheating once is already once too many and I'm not going to let it happen again...ever.

The End

Copyright: © Dawn Ramble 2024