The first morning at South Beach is magnificent. Jim and Kris soak sunrays splash around in the emerald green water and admire the dozens of almost naked bodies stretched out in the white powder sand.
While they are in the water chest high, Jim's hand caresses her bikini bottoms, his fingers briefly brushing against the slit between her legs.
"You are driving me crazy," Kris says, "let's go back to the hotel room. I need some."
"Not mine," he answers, "we were told to wait. Cesar wants you for himself."
"Listen," she mumbles, "I don't know about this…I mean, it sounds exciting…but…"
"Your mom and dad would not approve," Jim says, "and society would not approve but it excites you."
"As a fantasy," Chris answers, "I don't know if I can go through with this…"
"You will. That's the whole purpose of this vacation."
Kris nods. Jim is a great husband and their marriage is excellent but his most erotic dream is to see Kris taken by another man. After months of persuasion the vacation has been arranged but she does not even know what Cesar looks like and the thought of sex with a stranger is wildly erotic yet frightening.
Jim and Kris had shared the fantasy but until this sun-baked morning, that's all it had been, a fantasy to excite each other in their intimacy. Often, as they sat in restaurants or drove down the street Jim would look at a man and ask her if she would fuck him and she would be aroused but nothing ever happened. Jim had previous threesome experiences with a girlfriend and had become extremely aroused when he saw other men mounting her, an erotic experience he now wanted to try with his wife.
It's my upbringing, Kris thinks, this concept that lust is dirty that no cock but my husband's should be enjoyed without guilt. Yet what is wrong with doing something we both could enjoy?
"I guess," she says, "It's okay, but when will he contact us?"
"He has a key to our hotel room," Jim answers, "he might be back there right now waiting for us."
"Oh, my God…I…"
"Let's go, Kris," Jim says, "I want to see you get fucked."
The walk back through the sand and across Ocean Avenue is long, as Kris almost trembles with nervous excitement. She has fear of the moment, of the upcoming dirty deed, of having another man touch her, grope her, penetrate her, drip his seed on her face, her hair…It will be degrading and filthy, to be taken, fucked by a man while her husband watches. It is exciting.
There is a small bag hanging from their hotel room door containing a piece of cloth and a note that Jim reads, his hand trembling slightly.
"What does it say?".
"Blindfold the toy and come in."
Kris allows the blindfold to be placed over her face. She can feel the door opening and she enters the hotel room on unsteady feet, wondering what will happen with the stranger.
"Stop, Kris. Don't move."
His voice is deep with a trace of an accent. What does he look like? Is he dressed or ready to penetrate her?
"Get naked Jim. Get comfortable."
Kris does not move. She wants to talk but does not know what to say. Does she really want to back out? Or does she want to be taken, treated like a toy?
She feels his breathing suddenly near. She knows it is not Jim. His scent and cologne are new to Kris.
"You," he whispers, "are not tied by ropes but you will not move unless I tell you to move, understand?"
"Yes, but I really…"
"Don't talk," he says softly. "Do as told. Do not move."
Then comes a moment of silence. Kris is confused, troubled while excited by the promise of lust, of raw sex and an explosive orgasm while her husband watches her get fucked by a stranger.
"I don't know if…"
"Yes you do," the voice interrupts her, "You agreed and came to Miami Beach. You want it and Jim wants it. He's sitting near you naked and his cock is hard already. You want it and you will be quiet and do as you are told."
Kris does not answer, biting her lip, not quite sure what will follow. She wonders what Cesar looks like, wonders how excited her husband is as he looks at her, blindfolded and dressed only in a two piece bathing suit. She stands still in front of a man who is about to take her, penetrate her, use her as a fuck toy for sheer enjoyment.
Fingertips touch her nipples, caressing them through the flimsy fabric of the bathing suit. She gasps in surprise but does not move, as his fingertips trace the outline of her face, her neck, her breasts, stomach, down to the wet slit only covered by a patch of cloth.
"Jim is enjoying this," the voice says, "and so are you. Your nipples are hard and your crotch is wet. I can smell your wet cunt, Kris. You are a bitch in heat."
"Please," she mumbles, "This is difficult."
His answer is to remove the bathing suit, unclasping the top and pulling on the bottom until she is blindfolded and naked and his hands roam over her, pinching, squeezing, fondling, the fingertips teasing the drenched mound between her legs.
"Nice and hairy," he says, "good for playing."
"I don't …I don't …"
"Be quiet and kneel," the man said as he presses down on her shoulders and Kris feels the carpet against the flesh of her knees.
She is scared, trembling with fear and anticipation, but Cesar takes his time, letting seconds pass in silence, building up the expectation of the moment. Then Kris feels a round, warm piece of flesh rub against the side of her face. She feels the head caressing her earlobe, then move across her chin and down her neck, leaving an invisible trace of moisture.
"You like the way my cock feels against your face don't you?"
"I'm scared."
"You are? Do you want to go home and forget about this?"
"I…I don't know."
"This is your chance, Kris. You say no and it's over. You keep quiet or say yes and you cross the threshold. In about a minute you are going to be heading back home or sucking cock. What will it be?"
She is confused, wet between her legs, bewildered by the moment.
"Open your mouth Kris," the voice says, "so I can fuck your mouth."
