Sitting on the lounge couch in a dimly lit corner of the hotel bar, I watched in what seemed like slow motion as my beautiful but drunken wife struggled to keep the handsome strangers roaming hand out of her lap.
Theresa was sitting right next to me, with the stranger with a flowery shirt sitting next to her on the other side, touching her very inappropriately. She fumbled and resisted, trying to ward away his hand, but clearly without the requisite strength or coordination to defend herself. The interloper easily avoided Theresa's hands and slipped his wandering paw under her brightly colored skirt. The look of triumph on his face said 'mission accomplished,' and I could tell from the movement of her skirt that he was successfully rubbing her shaved pussy.
Usually I would have been lit up with fury and savagely defended my shy wife's honor against such a violation, but for some strange reason the intimate trespass didn't bother me.
My uncharacteristic nonchalance towards a total stranger feeling up my lady made me wonder if this friendly fellow vacationer at the hotel bar hadn't maybe drugged us both, because this was unimaginable. Never had either my new wife or I allowed such an outrage. Nonetheless, for reasons unknown to me, all of her useless squirming to avoid his hands and her slurred protests just amused me.
"Don't....don't!" I heard her slur, but the stranger just grinned and made her kiss him. Soon he was fingering her, and my wife leaned her head into his shoulder to avoid being made to kiss him, then I saw him taking advantage of her leaning to run his free hand inside the back of her shirt to unclasp her bra. Her struggle fascinated me, but I did nothing to help her.
"Oooohhh..." Theresa softly moaned in frustrated arousal, still clenching her thighs against his hand and getting gently fingered.
It was captivating to watch my gorgeous respectable wife struggle so ineffectively. She was leaning into another man, hoping to avoid his kisses, while squeezing her thighs to somehow minimize his access to her pussy that already had a finger in it, and now she had a new problem, finding her plump tits released and also being felt up.
It obviously frustrated her greatly that she was losing the battle so badly, but all that I could do was watch in rapt fascination. Never in a million years would I have ever believed that such a thing could happen. Clearly we had both drank too much before the smooth talking stranger brought the last round to our booth and joined us, but now it was just surreal... my mind had been immobilized, and I was not only powerless to help my struggling wife, but strangely calm about it.
My wife made me proud, she was valiant- she put up a long but futile resistance. Clearly she was in a fog and her limbs had so little power that the stranger was able to take what he wanted, right here in the dark hotel bar. Eventually she just sobbed and stopped struggling, and I heard the stranger say, "Good girl. Just enjoy it," as he held the back of her neck and turned her head to press her lips to his, and now unhindered, gleefully finger fucked my wife's sex.
***
I couldn't remember going to our hotel room, but all of a sudden I was sitting on the couch and the stranger was leaning over me, gently slapping my face to wake me up until I opened my eyes and stared up at him dumbly.
Looking down at me grinning like an ape, he said, "Now try to stay awake Michael, I want you to watch me fuck your shy young wife."
"Ok..." I answered, in a daze and feeling passive.
Theresa was stripped down to just her new teal thong and bra that we had bought at Victoria's Secret for this honeymoon trip. She was sitting on a large cushion chair directly across from me, looking at me with the dumb stare of an innocent doe. "Honey, what's happening?" she asked me in a resigned voice.
"I don't know..." I answered, as the stranger walked behind her and leaned over to cup her plump breasts with both hands and grinned over at me.
"You lovebirds have been hypnotized and drugged," the stranger said, "and you won't remember a thing after I leave."
"Oh," I said dumbly.
"Theresa, lean forward so that I can unclasp your bra again sweetheart," the tall stranger ordered softly.
"Ok," she obeyed, leaning forward as the man unclasped her teal bra and then guided the straps forward as he pulled it off of her slender tanned arms, revealing two perfectly plump firm C-cup breasts with small areolas and long nipples.
I watched in shocked fascination as my lovely young wife obeyed this stranger like a child would obey a parent. I had spent six months working my ass off to get a look at those gorgeous tits, and less than an hour after meeting him, she was letting him remove her bra.
Taking her slender throat in his hand, the stranger gently tilted her head back over the back of the chair and kissed her, running his tongue inside her mouth. Holding her head there with a hand grasping her blonde hair, his other hand slid down to her chest until cupping her soft breast and massaging the long dark nipple between his thumb and middle finger.
"Mmmmmmmm..." she softly murmured into his mouth as he kissed her and massaged her beautiful breast.
Theresa was either unable to prevent the assault, or didn't want to. I couldn't tell. All I know is that she made no effort to resist.
"Now Theresa, you have too many clothes on. I want you to stand up and look directly into your husbands eyes as you slowly lower your thong to the floor and slip them off of your feet," the tall man instructed.
Without a word, my wife stood up and turned her baby blue eyes to mine as if having no modesty or a care in the world. Then she slowly lowered her teal thong down until I could see her strawberry blonde runway trim come into view.
Standing off to the side to enjoy the show, the stranger whistled softly then instructed her, "Go slow for Daddy, and look your new husband in the eyes lovingly while you show him what you're about to surrender to me."
Theresa smiled her model perfect smile at me and slipped the thin teal thong down until her shaved pussy, tanned in the tanning booth for the past month, came into full view.
"Michael, have you ever seen your wife undress for another man?" he asked.
"No sir," I replied, unsure of where the 'sir' had come from. At 6'3 and 245lbs of rock hard strength, I had never felt the need to act deferentially like this before, but I somehow knew that the stranger was my superior and expected my respect.
"Have you ever given your wife to another man?" he continued, as the teal thong passed my wife's beautiful little pussy and the triangle portion fell slack between her toned thighs, slowly continuing down.
"No sir," I answered, mesmerized by my wife's blue eyes, bright smile, and lovely full breasts dangling as she bent to slip the thong over her knees.
