The Game That Woke My Wife Up on Vacation

My name is Darío and, to be honest, I never thought I’d have a story like this to tell. I’m pushing fifty, I work in security, I do sports and I enjoy simple things: a good dinner, a glass of wine, an unhurried afternoon. I’ve been married to Marina for fifteen years; she’s my second wife. She’s forty, a physiotherapist, petite, blonde, with a body yoga has kept firm and small breasts that have always driven me crazy.

We were an ordinary couple. Too ordinary, maybe. Routine had been dulling us without either of us saying it out loud.

The previous Christmas I’d ordered a couple of toys and an adult card game online, with the idea of bringing back some spark. We unwrapped it, laughed, joked about how to use it, and it all ended up in a drawer. It stayed there until Easter, when I found it while looking for something else.

—Would you dare try this at the mall? —I asked her, showing her a small remote-controlled vibrator.

Marina resisted at first. I convinced her. She let me put it in place myself, and it excited us so much that we almost didn’t leave the house. I felt her thighs tighten under my hands, her cunt already wet before I fastened her underwear, and when I tested the remote in the kitchen her knees went weak. She looked at me, breath ragged, lips pressed together so she wouldn’t moan, and I felt my cock hardening just from watching her swallow her pride and let me do it. That half hour beforehand was a fucking firestorm: a touch here, a short buzz there, her leaning over the counter to hide it, me sliding a hand under her waist and feeling the heat of her sex throbbing against the little device. When we finally left the house, we were both soaked with desire, like unruly kids, and my hands were still burning from groping her tits under her blouse while we pretended to act normal.

***

We went through the shops between purchases and knowing looks. Every so often I hit the button and watched her tense up, bite her lip, pretend to study a storefront while a current raced through her. I always did it when nobody was looking, and she got her revenge with her eyes whenever she caught her breath. She was wearing an almost transparent black blouse and a short skirt, and I knew there wasn’t much left to discover underneath. Every little jolt from her got me hotter, and I was starting to understand that the game was going to get out of hand. I could tell her cunt was soaked even when she walked beside me: the slight sway of her hips, the trembling of her thighs, the way she wet her fingers when she ran them through her hair and gave me a filthy, defiant look, as if daring me to keep pressing the button. Of course I kept going. Every pulse made her arch a little more, clamp her legs tight, rub them together looking for relief, and my mouth filled with saliva just imagining her naked, opening for me in some filthy changing room or over the seat of a stranger’s bathroom.

In the restaurant area I pressed the remote just as she was paying at the counter, and the guy serving her didn’t understand why that woman was gripping the counter with her eyes closed. When she came back to the table she looked at me with a mixture of rage and desire I’d never seen on her before. Her chest was rising and falling under the fabric, her cheeks flushed, and the hem of her skirt was clinging to her thighs from the dampness.

—I’m going to kill you —she whispered—. I almost came right there.

—And why don’t we fix that? —I said.

Ten minutes later we were locked in the bar’s bathroom. She braced her hands against the wall, I got behind her, hiked up her skirt and went in without meeting any resistance. We did it fast, in silence, holding our breath every time someone passed on the other side of the door. I pulled her panties aside with two fingers, lined myself up between her ass cheeks and sank my cock into her wet cunt with an ease that surprised even me. Marina bit her forearm to keep from crying out. I grabbed her by the hip and started fucking her with short, hard thrusts, making her ass slam back against me with every push. The steamed-up mirror gave us back an obscene image: her arched, silently gasping, me fucking her standing up, my trousers around my ankles and the sour smell of the bathroom mixed with the scent of her arousal. When I felt her get tighter and saw her scratching the wall with her nails, I slipped a hand to her clit beneath her belly, rubbing in circles until her legs gave out. Who was this woman?, I thought as we went back to the car wrapped around each other, alive for the first time in a long while, and I still had cum halfway up my body, pounding in my balls and wanting to do it all over again.

—This is only the beginning —she told me, stroking my leg—. Wait until the vacation.

***

We had booked a week at an adults-only resort on the coast, far from the cold of our town in Asturias. We wanted peace, pools without children running around, whole days to ourselves. We arrived at noon, unpacked, and went down to the water. Marina debuted a tiny bikini, a nearly fluorescent pink one that left very little to the imagination. I wasn’t the only one looking at her. The fabric dipped between her tits and barely covered her pussy, so every time she came out of the water her nipples and her mound stood out as if her body were demanding more. I couldn’t look away from her wet thighs, the salty sheen on her skin, and the way she turned on purpose so the bikini would settle even more suggestively.

At the pool a young redheaded girl came up to us, fair-skinned and generously curved, no more than twenty-three.

—Hi, I’m Yaiza. Did you just arrive?

She had an easy confidence that was contagious. She told us about a pool hidden behind the gym, quieter, and a little nudist cove a twenty-minute walk away. She said goodbye with a sway of her hips, leaving an invitation hanging in the air. I followed her with my eyes a second too long and Marina pinched my thigh under the table, as a warning. Then she smiled at me with deliciously nasty intent: she was already thinking about getting her hands on that situation.

That night, in a pub in the village, three slightly drunk lads circled around Marina while I was in the bathroom. When I came back, instead of feeling uncomfortable, she had the situation completely under control. With an icy smile, she told them they’d better think hard if they really believed they could keep up with her. They ran off. I didn’t recognize my wife, and I loved it. I found her sitting with her legs crossed, her glass between her fingers, her neckline rising and falling with a calm that had nothing to do with the discreet wife I’d known for years. When I went over she brushed the crotch of my trousers with the tip of her foot and whispered that later she was going to leave me so dry I wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day. I got hard instantly.

Back at the hotel we ran into Yaiza and her friends. Marina invited her to have a drink in our bungalow and the girl accepted without hesitation. Between the rum and the conversation, what had started as a game turned into something else. Marina kissed her in front of me, slowly, never taking her eyes off mine. Yaiza’s tongue searched for hers hungrily, and I stood rooted there, watching them brush against each other, watching them grip each other by the nape, watching their nipples stand out under the damp fabrics from the heat. Marina slid a hand around her waist, lifted her top and squeezed her tits with brutal confidence, and Yaiza moaned so softly a shiver ran down my spine.

—Do you like to watch? —she asked me—. Then you’re going to watch properly.

She sat me in a chair and, before I understood what was happening, the two of them tied my wrists to the backrest with a couple of scarves. What came next I lived like a spectator bound to my own desire: the two women undressing slowly, Marina playing with Yaiza’s huge breasts, the two of them taking turns pushing each other to the limit while I uselessly pulled at the restraints. Marina took off her blouse and let her skirt fall to the floor, perfectly calm, and Yaiza knelt between her legs, burying her mouth in her pussy with hunger, licking her as if she wanted to drink her whole. Marina threw her head back, looked at me over the girl’s shoulder, and opened wider, offering herself, while Yaiza held her by the hips and slid two fingers into her ass without stopping sucking her clit. I hurt myself pulling at the scarves, my cock hard and aching against the fabric of my trousers, watching my wife come with a muffled groan, her face burning, her legs shaking. When they finally untied me, Yaiza got dressed, kissed me on the lips, and whispered a “thank you, I needed that” that I didn’t understand then. That night Marina rode me until I had nothing left, moving her hips over me with sweet fury, wrecking me with cunt, tongue and nails in my back until I emptied into her with a growl.

***

The next day we went to the nudist cove. There was barely anyone there, scattered among the rocks. We stripped completely and got into the water, where Marina wrapped her legs around my waist until I fucked her right there, half hidden, half exposed. The sea rocked our hips and I held her up under the ass to set the rhythm, thrusting carefully at first and then harder, feeling the water slip between our legs and her open for me with every stroke. Her back was against a warm rock, her tits floating on the surface, and she begged for more, tightening her grip on my neck while the rest of the beach carried on doing its own thing. We didn’t hear the couple coming up behind us.

—Well, you two certainly know how to make the most of the beach! —the woman laughed.

They were Octavio and Vera, he a little over fifty and she in her early forties, tanned and uninhibited. Octavio had a colossal cock, one of those that look like they came out of a movie. Vera, surgically enhanced and with a piercing glinting in her skin, kept her eyes on my body. What happened next happened with a naturalness I still have trouble explaining: Marina kneeling in the water in front of Octavio, Vera pressed against my back with a firm hand around my cock, the two women laughing, exchanging glances as if they’d been doing this for years. Vera stroked my dick with shameless assurance, licked the tip for a moment and then handed me control, while I watched Marina spread her legs for that monster of flesh Octavio carried between his thighs. She took it with a mixture of fear and hunger, first slowly, then deeper and deeper, while he held her head and talked into her ear. Behind them I could feel Vera’s hand going up and down without pause, her thumb brushing my frenulum until everything went black.

When it was all over, Octavio invited us to dinner that very night. What were we getting ourselves into?, I thought. But Marina’s look had already decided for both of us.

Before we went back, behind some rocks, she asked me to return the favor. I knelt between her legs and worked with my tongue and fingers until she came undone with a hoarse cry, splashing my face with a warm spurt. It was the first time I’d managed it with her. I parted her lips with my fingers, licked slowly from her entrance to her clit, slid two fingers inside while my other hand held her hip, and alternated pressure and rhythm until her whole body began to tremble. When she came, she clutched my head to her and came in my mouth, convulsing with a rough sob that left my tongue drenched in her taste. When I looked up, a stranger was watching us a few yards away, finishing jerking off. Marina only smiled.

***

We had dinner with them at a seafood restaurant in the harbor and ended up at their penthouse, impossible luxury with an infinity pool on the roof, facing the sea. The alcohol loosened tongues. Octavio made no effort to hide what he wanted, and Marina, far from taking offense, set the rules.

—You don’t need his permission —she said, pointing at me—. You need mine.

What followed was the most intense night of our lives. First in the jacuzzi, then on the terrace floor. I watched my wife give herself to another man a meter from me while I sank into Vera, all four breaths mixing in the warm air of dawn. There was a moment when the four of us built something hard to put into words, hands and mouths everywhere, Marina finally tasting that enormous cock that had so intimidated her on the beach. Octavio had her sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi, prying her legs open with his hands and hammering into her slowly at first, then more brutally, while she clawed at his shoulders and begged him not to stop. Vera dropped me onto the terrace floor, climbed on top of me, and let me slide my cock between her thighs while she sucked on my neck and guided me with her hips. The heat of the water, the smell of chlorine, rum and salt, all of it mingled with Marina’s moans when Octavio grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth first, then her cunt, with no tenderness at all, until she was shaking. I saw her face full of pleasure and surrender at once, and my blood was on fire.

Vera licked my neck while I came, and then helped Marina sit up so she could kiss her with a calm that left me speechless. We had just crossed a line there was no going back from. The curious thing is that, instead of remorse, what I felt was a strange peace, as if at last we were being honest with each other.

When we were alone in the guest room, exhausted and still lit up, she asked me for something she had never dared ask before.

—I want to try it too. From behind. With you, only you.

It was her first time that way. We did it slowly, patiently, very carefully, until her body gave in and surrendered completely. She came in a way I’d never seen before, biting the pillow so as not to wake half the floor. I prepared her ass with my fingers, one, then two, sliding saliva and breath in until she stopped tensing up. Marina grabbed my wrist, asked for more, and when the head of my cock started to enter from behind she let out a broken moan, more surprise than pain. I went on little by little, attentive to every jolt, every clench of her sphincter, until I was all the way in and could fuck her from behind without her lifting her hips away. The friction made her gasp, tremble, ask for more loudly, and I finished her off with short strokes, sinking into her while she came with her face against the pillow, hands gripping the sheets and her body shaking as if a hatch had opened inside her.

—How did I never try this before? —she murmured before falling asleep on my chest.

***

Octavio and Vera left early because of a work trip to Milan, and Yaiza, who was leaving that same day, handed us an address scribbled on a napkin.

—If you’re still in the mood, you have to go to this place. Trust me.

It was a private club on the outskirts, discreet, with themed rooms and private booths. On the last night of the vacation we built up our nerve with a couple of drinks and went in. Marina went through it all with a new kind of calm, as if she’d been waiting for a place like that for years. She passed by the booths and dark rooms and stopped in front of a basement door that had to be booked separately.

—This one —she said—. And today I’m in charge.

For once, she didn’t ask my permission for anything.

—On your knees —she ordered, and her voice allowed no argument.

I obeyed without thinking. During those days I’d discovered a submissive side in myself I’d never suspected, and Marina handled it with a confidence that disarmed me. She tied me to a wooden cross, blindfolded me and took me to the edge between pleasure and measured pain, calculating every gesture, whispering in my ear who was in charge now. I felt the cold of her hands, the brush of something I couldn’t see, her low laugh every time my body tensed. She kept my cock erect and sensitive, grazing it with the tips of her fingers, making me wait while she ran a rope over my balls and talked dirty to me, saying I was going to learn to swallow desire without opening my mouth. When she finally let me finish, I did it with an intensity that left me shaking, grateful and completely hers. The orgasm hit me like a brutal blow; I came blind, my throat torn up, feeling the spasms in my belly and the delicious shame of being there, tied and obedient, while she decided when and how I got touched.

—I told you to be careful with that idea of my wishes being orders —she said afterward, untying me with a smile—. I took it literally.

—And you don’t think you’re going to stop? —I asked, rubbing my wrists.

—When one of us wants to, this ends. But I don’t want to yet. —She kissed me slowly—. I love you.

—And I love you.

The next day we went home, back to the cold, back to the same old routine. Only nothing was the same anymore. That week had not only woken up the woman who had been sleeping beside me; it had probably saved our marriage. And something told me, as I watched her sleep in the passenger seat, that the best was still to come.