Love with No Limits?

I had seen her a few times before, mostly on the beach, with the guy I guessed was her husband, or chatting with friends. Some people came for a week or two, but she was clearly here for a lot longer than that. Her tan said that she had already enjoyed weeks, if not months, in the sun, as dark a tan as you can get, even though her short cropped hair was blonde. The way she seemed to know quite a few of the others here confirmed my assumption that she was here for the summer, not just for a break.

She had also been at one of the restaurants we had used, wearing a black translucent blouse that displayed her palm width areoles and the gold studs of her nipple piercings, matched with a leather skirt. She was seated at a table for two with her guy, drinking rose wine with their meal of mixed sea food. We had been given a table three away, but that had not prevented me from noticing the way, every so often, he had placed his hand on hers, caressing it, his middle finger playing with the gold band on her ring finger.

It was good to see them relaxed, and so obviously into each other. When you are relatively newly married, as Julia and I were then, it makes you feel optimistic about the future to see a couple in their forties still showing affection to each other in a restaurant.

Of course Cap d'Agde is the kind of place where couples can show affection freely, and not just by caressing one another's hands. You see wives caress their husband's cocks, stroking their erection, as they laze in the sun on the crowded naturist beach. Some go further, and show their love by sucking on their husband's cock, ignoring those who walk past, navigating between other sunbathers from their towels to the sea, or returning, water droplets dripping from their bodies, or just weaving their way between those lying naked, hoping to see exactly this kind of scene, as a number of regulars did, all guys, returning daily for their fix of voyeuristic stimulation.

She was one of the wives I had seen doing exactly that, lying on their stretched out beach sheet, with its Indian themed patterning, curled so that although her body was beside her husband's, her head was on his lap, his cock head between her lips. I had been walking to the sea with Julia, and felt a pang of jealousy, wondering if my wife of two years would dare to do the same to me.

So watching her two days after that, the centre of attention, with a crowd around her that must have number close to forty, I got to wondering whether she and her husband had once been like Julia and myself, relative innocents at the naturist resort, brave enough to go naked on the beach, walking around the camp-site, and going to the shops, but dressing more conservatively than most in the evenings at the restaurants and the bars, Julia wearing a summer dress amongst women in see through blouses, or maybe topless, or in leather, whether they had once been as nervous and as hesitant as we were still.

We had seen the crowd forming from where we were lazing on our towels, and Julia had been uncertain about getting up to see what was of such great interest, but we had joined them, and were watching over the shoulders of those closest to the action.

I had never seen two people fucking in real life before. Somehow watching online, it does not seem so real. You know that they are actors performing a role for payment, while this was two real live people enjoying sex and enjoying being watched, not because they were being paid to be filmed, but solely for the exhibitionistic thrill that they got out of it.

The blonde woman was on her hands and knees, pixie hair glinting in the sun, her breasts forming quivering cones beneath her, the areoles almost black from prolonged exposure to the sun, gold stubs glinting, her butt raised, the guy behind her fucking her, his hands on her ass, occasionally swatting her as if a fly had landed on her buttock cheek, except there was no fly.

The guy was not her husband. He was there, but he was standing watching, with a couple that I recognised as friends that the woman had been chatting with one time. I wondered what kind of love it was that enabled him to watch his wife get fucked by someone else.

This was not exactly discrete wife sharing. This was full blown public, exhibitionist rutting. The guy doing the fucking was slamming his cock into her. She was giving out unrestrained grunts and moans. The slaps that he was giving her seemed only to excite her even more, from the groans of pleasure that she would release.

Yet her husband was calmly watching while chatting to their friends, as if this was an everyday occurrence, not caring who knew that this other man was fucking the woman that he loved. Maybe it was something that they did every day, and this was just the first time that we had witnessed it.

It was certainly not an everyday event for Julia and myself to stand, hand in hand, amongst a crowd of strangers, watching a couple fucking. I could not tell exactly what my wife was making of the scene, but my cock was reacting, getting heavy and thicker, approaching, but thankfully not reaching, full erection.

The crowd was mostly men. There was maybe one woman for every half a dozen guys. They were all shapes, sizes and ages. The guy in front of me was in his sixties, judging by the white of his hair and the age of his skin. The guy in front of Julia was more like forty something, with black hair and a moustache, heavily built but not that tall, which was just as well for Julia's ability to see what happening on the Indian patterned beach sheet, stretched on the sand in front of us.

Opposite, most of the front row of the circle were guys, the only women being one of the friends talking to the husband, black hair, slender, tanned and in her early forties, and another woman, in her fifties, overweight, with full, pendulous breasts. Neither woman seemed to mind that several of the guys were stoking their cocks as they watched the scene, as was, I then realised, the guy in his sixties right in front of me.

The crowd gradually grew, a third row forming. Julia took my hand. I glanced at her. She looked a little nervous, her lower lip tucked in so that she could bite on it, and I whispered to her, asking if she would prefer to go. She answered that it was fine. What she did not tell me then, but only later, was that the guy who had moved in behind her had caressed her buttock, and that that was why she had taken my hand, something to hold on to.

I guess that if you join a crowd that is mainly men, watching a live sex show at the back of an open beach, and you have a slender, attractive body, then you are likely to be groped. Some guy is going to take the opportunity to touch you. I would not have felt too comfortable knowing that that was taking place, but right then, I was naively unaware. I was also too engrossed in watching the guy come inside the woman he was fucking.

I was pretty sure that he was wearing no protection. His hard thrusting meant that even though we could see his cock shaft each time he withdrew, he pushed back into her so fast you could not tell if the sheen was latex, or just her juices.

His last few thrusts were slightly slower, and only withdrew an inch or so. I know that feeling, when Julia's cunt against my cock is so intense that I can no longer thrust as hard, and have to just let the explosion come, and spew my semen as deep inside her as I can get, unable to move again until that exquisite intensity has abated.

The guy held her by her hips so that she could not move, and you could tell that he was filling her with his come. You could read it on his face. You could read it on hers. Her back was arched, her head was up, and she had this contented smile.

Moments later he withdrew, and she relaxed her head, letting it fall. His cock was no longer solid. It was still slick, but with his own come as well as with her juices. He got up unsteadily, but smiling, pleased with his own performance, and joined the husband and the friends.

What happened next stunned me. The male friend who had been watching and chatting with the husband, moved to centre stage. He knelt behind the woman, who had not moved, gave his cock several strokes with his hand to bring it to hard erection, and slipped its length inside her.

Watching this second guy fucking her, I struggled to work out what kind of relationship was going on between the watching husband and his acquiescent wife. Maybe she enjoyed sex with other guys, and her husband went along with it because he loved her, and allowed her what she wanted. Maybe it was the husband who got off on sharing his wife with other men, and she went along with it because she loved him, and would do anything to please him.

Maybe it was some of both. Whatever it was, it seemed to work for them. There no question that they were a loving couple, not from the way I had seen them together in the restaurant, but there was a boundary breaking sexuality about their love, her pierced nipples, and her shared cunt, enjoyed by other men.

Of course I wondered how I would feel if it was Julia on her hands and knees, with two other guys taking turns to fuck her. I wondered how Julia was feeling watching, if she was also thinking that it could be her, would like it to be her.

We did not stay much longer. We did not need to see the second guy come. Some kind of telepathic agreement made both of us move out of the circle of voyeurs without any need to say that it was time to leave. We went back to our towels, lay down, and soaked up more sun for the remainder of the late afternoon.

************

That night I gave Julia's cunt the longest, deepest oral attention that I had ever done. I licked and sucked and delved and teased, all the while picturing that scene on the beach, except with Julia in the centre.

I love her cunt. She keeps it free of hair, and while it appears to be just a slit in what is a prominent pubic mound, it opens to reveal delicious inner lips, that are peach perfect to devour.

I love the way her back arches with pleasure as I lick and suck, her stomach concave, her young breasts slight mounts, cherry nipples firm, the absence of areoles emphasising their redness against the whiteness of her skin. With a golden tan, the cherry nipples brown from sun, the view from her cunt is even more exquisite.

I love how, beyond her breasts, her jaw rises, angular yet delectable, and she issues soft moans of pleasure as I lick between her labia, and run the very tip of my tongue around the emergent pinkness of her clit, nestling shyly in its hood.

I love that with my tongue alone, I can make her come. Then I need to hold still her pelvic bone as she tries to squirm, to keep my tongue in place, still lapping at her cunt, intensifying her orgasm to the point where she scrabbles with her hands, trying to move my head from her, screaming with the agony of her ecstasy.

************

Where before I might have moved up Julia's body, to penetrate her cunt with the hard urgency of my impatient cock, and thrust into her so as, in time, to achieve my own release, I have learned to wait.

I moved up the bed and cradled her, allowing her time to come back down, letting the intensity subside.

"Wow," she finally said. "That was incredible."

I smiled, even though her head on my chest meant that she could not see my mouth, or know from that smile that I was pleased to have pleasured her and given her that ultimate satisfaction.

"That's good," I said.

"Maybe," she said.

I stroked her slender back.

"Why maybe?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure that I liked what I was thinking," Julia answered.

"Because?"

"Because it was what we saw this afternoon."

"And,..."

"And I was thinking if some time,... in the future, I mean,... if we keep coming here,... if that would be me."

"I know," I said. "I had the same thought go through my head."

"While you were licking me?"

"Yes," I said, "and while we were watching."

"You remember when I help your hand?" my wife said.

"Yes."

"The guy behind me," she said. "He,.. he was fondling me."

My cock definitely twitched when she said that.

"You didn't say," I said.

"He'd have heard," Julia said. "I wasn't sure what would have happened."

"So you let him."

"It felt,... I'm not sure how to say it,... but it felt nice,... I mean, that he wanted to."

I was not sure how I felt about it, but it had happened, and it was over.

"Okay," was all I said.

"He,.. he touched me, as well," my wife said.

"Touched you how?" I asked her.

"His fingers,.. between my legs,.. from behind,.. just the tip."

"Okay," I said again, still unsure how I felt about what my wife was sharing.

"It felt kind of weird," Julia said. "I mean, I was holding your hand,... but I could feel him just inside me,... his finger I mean,... and in one way I liked it,... in another I knew I shouldn't."

"So that's what you were thinking about while I was licking you?" I asked.

"That,... and watching what was going on," Julia answered. "I mean, thinking about it,.. about what if you wanted me to do that,.. if you asked me to."

"I was wondering how it would be," she went on, "to have two men do that to me."

"And?"

"And what I'd do," she said. "I mean would I hate you for asking me to do it,... or would I do it because I loved you,... or because,.."

I finished the sentence for her.

"Because you wanted to?"

"Would that be so bad?" she asked.

I did not answer. I have always liked that Julia is as sexual as she is. I liked it then and I like it now, that she is still as sexual now as she was then. That was why I was ambivalent about her letting that guy caress her buttocks, and not just caress them, but reach right under and probe her slit. I liked that she had not been phased by it, had not broken down in tears about it, but had accepted it as part of what could happen here, to be experienced rather than to be broken up about. At the same time I did not like that another guy had fingered her, or that she seemed to have enjoyed it

So I liked that my wife had no hang ups about fantasising kneeling on all fours while two guys took turns to fuck her. If it helped her to think of that while I licked at her cunt, to enable her to come more easily, or more intensely, then that was fine. I just was not sure that I wanted it happening for real, so when she asked me if it would be so bad for her to want it to, there was no straightforward answer to her question.

My silence meant that we lay like that, not speaking, for several moments.

It was Julia who moved first, just her arm. She reached for my cock. She held it gently, moving her hand up and down its flaccid length, gradually bringing it back to full erection.

Then she moved off the white cotton covered mattress, walking to the foot of the bed. She knelt on the floor, bending over the bed, her torso resting on the mattress, arms outstretched, and looked at me.

"Fuck me from behind," she said.

************

We saw them again on the beach the following day, the blonde woman with the pixie cut, and her husband, lying on their backs, side by side, eyes closed, but hand in hand.

Her dark mahogany tan went all the way to her slit, which I only then noticed was also pierced, a neat gold ball nestling at the top of the slit, identical to those on either side of her nipple stubs. I guessed that another gold ball was tucked inside her slit, so that the piercing rested on her clit, and stimulated her all the more while she was being fucked.

I wondered about those piercings, whose decision they had been. Maybe her husband had a fetish for them, and had persuaded her to accept the pain as needles were passed through tender nipple flesh, and through her vulnerable clit hood, and out of love for him she had agreed. Maybe it had been her fetish, and she had told him that she planned to have them done, not just for him, but to let others know that she crossed sexual boundaries that others did not dare to cross.

Once again I thought about the kind of relationship they had, that allowed or persuaded her to flaunt her sexuality, that involved other men enjoying fucking her, other cocks than his to ravage her, while they so clearly were still so close as a couple, hand on hand in the restaurant, hand in hand on the beach.

I wondered whether my relationship with Julia would be as strong as that.

The test of that came later.

************

I had left Julia on the beach to go back and get a book. It was sod's law that a friend called me while I was in our cabin, and what might have taken only twenty minutes took more than half an hour.

When I got back to our section of the beach, a guy I recognised was sitting by Julia's side, cross legged, like an Indian guru, but well built, with a fully shaved head, and a nut brown tan. Julia was lying on her front, her head in the crook of one arm, towards the guy, and they were talking.

I hesitated.

I had seen the guy several times before, on the same beach, cruising, looking for a woman on her own. I had watched him sit down with someone else, working his way into conversation, making her laugh, using the age old excuse of sun lotion to stroke her back and buttocks, slipping his hand between her legs, and eventually leading her by the hand to the dunes behind the beach.

He was like the guys who crawl bars in hotels, looking for a fuck, selecting the woman on her own to try his luck, and he was sitting by my wife.

I could have gone right over, interrupted whatever was going on, and told the guy where to get off, but I was curious. Neither of them had seen me, and I hung back. All I had with me were my flip-flops, to protect my feet from the burning sand, and the book that I had gone to get. I could not sit down, and I could not hang around standing right where I was, in between other sunbathers, so I backed off.

There was a beach bar close by, with a main area at the front but a few tables and chairs at the side, none of which were being used, so I sat on one of the wicker chairs and watched.

Like I said, I was curious. I could have interrupted them but I wanted to see Julia shrug the guy off, her decision, not mine. I wanted to know for sure that our talk the night before was no more than fantasy, that our love was different to that other couples, and that we were exclusive, more than enough to fulfill each other, no need for the taboo excitement of being fucked by someone else, or by watching it happening.

There was another factor, another reason why I needed to see Julia tell the guy that she was not available. We had discussed it just before we left England. This would be the ideal opportunity, when the sun, the naturist beach, and the sexual side of the resort's wild nightlife, would all lead to more frequent love making, more semen spewed from my cock into Julia's womb, more chance that we could start the family that we wanted.

Julia had come off the pill, and this guy was hoping that he would get the chance to fuck her. I needed to see her turn him down.

For ten minutes or so they just carried on talking. Then I saw Julia hand the guy her sun lotion, and the guy got up from his cross legged seated position by her side, straddling her, and lowering himself to squat on her thighs.

He inverted the bottle of lotion and squeezed some into his palm. He put the bottle down and rubbed his palms together, and then smoothed the lotion onto Julia's back, starting with her shoulder blades.

Just when applying sun lotion turns into a massage is a subjective judgement, but when it is still carrying on five minutes later you can be pretty sure that the line has been crossed.

Just when a massage turns into erotic play is equally a subjective judgement, but when the guys hands start working your wife's ass, you can be pretty sure that that line is being crossed as well. When one on those hands is slipped between her legs, you can be more than pretty sure that it is playing with her cunt. You can be certain.