My Wife Pretended to Sleep So She Could Watch Me with a Stranger

Carla always says that we're a boring couple, and deep down, she's right. At home, we stick to routines, have dinner at the same time, and barely leave the neighborhood on weekends. But when we go on vacation, something inside us awakens. We bring out a bolder side that we keep locked away for the rest of the year.

She's thirty-one, with long brown hair and a sweet face that could fool anyone. She's short, with curves that drive me wild and a piercing in her left breast that only I know about. I'm her complete opposite: tall, slim from working out, quiet. That summer, we decided to go one step beyond the nudist beaches we'd already tried and booked four nights at a naturist campsite on the Levante coast, one called Costa del Edén.

When we arrived, we checked in. A girl wearing the campsite uniform handed us our wristbands, recited the four basic rules, and escorted us to the bungalow. Our first impressions were calm, because the staff were dressed. But as we moved along the gravel paths, everyone was naked: couples, families, people of all ages strolling around as if it were perfectly normal. Bare breasts of every size, cocks hanging relaxed, shaved pussies and hairy pussies, asses bronzed by the sun.

“Holy shit,” Carla murmured, squeezing my arm. “We're the weird ones here.”

On the way, we passed an older couple, around fifty. They greeted us with a “good afternoon” in a foreign accent and a friendly smile. I couldn't help lowering my eyes for a second: he had a thick, hanging cock, the kind you don't see very often; she had a perfectly shaved pussy and dark nipples that pointed slightly upward. I felt the first stab of nerves. We still weren't used to any of this.

We put the food away, tidied the room, and stood looking at each other for a moment.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” I asked.

“Strange,” she said with a laugh. “But I suppose it's just a matter of minutes. Come on, clothes off.”

We undressed. She pulled off her dress in one motion and stood there in the middle of the bungalow, tits bare, the piercing gleaming from her left nipple and her shaved pussy marked by a thin strip of hair that drove me insane. My first reaction was an erection that rose on its own, without asking permission, and that I couldn't control.

I can't help it. Seeing her naked drives me crazy.

“Marcos, seriously,” she said, looking at my cock amid peals of laughter. “We've been here five minutes and you're already hard.”

“I'm not doing it on purpose,” I protested, covering myself without managing to hide anything. “Do you think I'm not embarrassed? And talking about it isn't helping.”

“Relax. I want to see the campsite and check out that pool from the photos. Though you really deserve to suck me off before we go out.”

“Don't even think about it, or I won't leave the bungalow all afternoon.”

It took me a while to calm down, thinking about anything but her tongue. We grabbed a towel and the key and went out to explore. Everyone was friendly, people greeted one another as they passed, and the atmosphere was strangely serene. We reached the pool, where a sign made the rules clear: no swimming in clothes, and a towel had to be placed over the loungers.

At the first table were the neighbors with the foreign accent, drinking beers.

“Hello, neighbors! You're in bungalow twenty-two, right?” the man said.

“Yes, we arrived today,” I replied.

“I'm sure you'll have a wonderful few days. We're Thierry—you can call me Thi—and my wife is Hélène.”

“Nice to meet you. Marcos and Carla. And where are you staying?”

“Twenty-four, right next to yours. If you need anything, we're here.”

They seemed like a lovely couple and spoke fluent Spanish. Now that I could take a closer look, he was thin, gray-haired, composed; even at rest, he had a thick, well-proportioned cock. She was petite, with discreetly augmented breasts, small, hard nipples, and a chain of rhinestones around her waist that hung just above her pussy, giving her an elegant and filthy air at the same time. We said goodbye and continued toward the loungers.

There were three pools lined up one behind the other, creating a beautiful mirror effect. We left the towel and got into the water, still tingling with nerves. Once inside, Carla hugged me from behind, and I felt her tits pressing against me and her pussy rubbing against my ass.

“Looks like the one downstairs has already gotten used to this world,” she whispered, slipping her hand underwater to brush my cock with two fingers.

“If you keep touching me, it's going to wake up again, and there are too many people here,” I warned her, laughing.

“Relax, I just felt like being close to you. Didn't you see the way Hélène looked you over?”

“Don't tell me that. How embarrassing,” I said. “Between the nerves and the fact that she was talking to her husband, I didn't notice.”

“From top to bottom. She devoured your cock with her eyes. But I don't mind—let the poor thing enjoy the view.”

***

We went to the bar for ice cream and, on the way back to the lounger, crossed paths with the French couple again. This time I noticed Hélène looking me over, stopping shamelessly at my cock before raising her eyes to my face and smiling at me. For a moment it made me uncomfortable, but at the same time I felt something strange and pleasant: we all like being looked at, even if we don't admit it. I smiled back and we continued on.

We spent the afternoon walking and went down to the cove the campsite had at the end of a path. We spread out the towel, took out an inflatable cushion, and lay down in the sun. A few yards in front of us was another couple, around forty: she was tall and blonde, with a generous chest and large, pink nipples; he was sturdy and calm, with a long, thick cock hanging heavily between his thighs. I noticed Carla watching them out of the corner of her eye, and I didn't judge her. I couldn't take my eyes off them either. There, looking was part of the game.

We took a quick swim and returned to the towel. This time we opened the parasol, since neither of us likes direct sun on our faces. Within five minutes, Carla had fallen asleep, breathing slowly. I put on my dark glasses and got on with my own business: the peace and quiet, the sound of the sea, and the view.

I won't lie. Men and women of all ages kept passing by, and I looked at every one of them. Shaved pussies dripping seawater, big and small tits, asses swaying as they walked along the shore. Without realizing it, I started getting hard, my cock resting thick against my hip, swelling by the second until it pointed toward the sky.

How embarrassing.

But I quickly comforted myself with an idea: Carla was asleep, nobody knew us, and besides, I wasn't doing anything wrong. I could pretend to be asleep and claim it had all been involuntary. From then on, I indulged shamelessly in every woman who passed, imagining what each pussy would taste like, how their nipples would harden if I ran my tongue over them, until the girl on the towel opposite us, a spectacular blonde, got up and began walking toward us, her tits bouncing with every step.

I lowered my eyes toward myself. Shit. I was completely hard, pointing at my navel, so thick there was no way to hide it. She reached me and made a gesture indicating that she wanted to light a cigarette. She needed a flame. I rummaged through the bag, handed her the lighter, and felt my ears burning. She didn't lower her eyes just once—she did it three, four times, without the slightest attempt at discretion, biting her lip.

“Thanks,” she said, with a smile that lingered longer than necessary.

She saw all of it. And she liked it.

For a while afterward, I couldn't stop watching her. She lay on her stomach with a magazine, her legs slightly apart, and every so often she glanced at me and at my cock, which was still hard against my belly. Sometimes a little smile escaped her and she ran her tongue over her lips as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I kept pretending to be asleep while passing men devoured Carla with their eyes—her tits bare, her pussy slightly open in her prone position. It aroused a strange mixture of jealousy and lust in me: knowing that my wife looked spectacular, that other men were imagining her being fucked, had its appeal.

***

Bored with pretending, and with my erection finally reduced enough for me to stand without making a spectacle of myself, I got up and went to wet my feet at the water's edge, looking for pretty stones to kill time. The couple opposite us got up too. He passed within six feet without looking at me. She passed a moment later, greeted me with a smile, and shamelessly lowered her gaze to my cock, held it there for a couple of long seconds, then looked back at my face and winked.

Did that just happen to me?

Ten minutes later, they came out of the water. He went straight to the towel. She lagged behind at the water's edge until she approached me. The water reached her waist, and her tits moved with the waves.

“Hi, handsome.”

“Hi,” I replied, more nervous than I'd ever been in my life.

“How are you? That thing's relaxed a little now, hasn't it?” she said, tilting her head and staring between my legs without the slightest restraint.

“Excuse me?”

“Before, you were pretending to sleep, but you couldn't take your eyes off me. I saw how hard you were. And hey, it's not bad at all. Very thick and very well hung. Your girl is lucky.”

I was stunned. My cock, which had been going soft in the water, began swelling again just from hearing her talk like that.

“Well… it's involuntary,” I stammered. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.”

“Not at all, handsome. I love seeing the way you men get hard watching me. My husband does too, even though he looks so serious. He loves it when other men look at me, and then he fucks me like an animal when we get back to the room. Just like now, when you're already waking up again. Look at it—it's getting hard under the water. I can see it rising.”

I looked down. She was right. I could see the dark shadow of my cock swelling through the clear water, thickening and rising at an angle. I looked at Carla, who was still sleeping beneath the parasol, her tits bare.

Why do I feel bad when I'm not actually doing anything?

I couldn't get a word out and moved a little farther into the water. The blonde followed me and positioned herself behind me, where it was shallow. I felt her tits brush my back for a second.

“Hey, it's okay,” she said quietly, very close to my ear. “I know how you feel, and you haven't done anything wrong. Relax.”

“You made me feel like a pervert,” I admitted.

“And aren't you one? I'm sure you've spent the whole afternoon thinking about what every pussy at this campsite tastes like. And I've spent the whole afternoon thinking about what that thick cock of yours would feel like inside my mouth.”

She caressed my hip beneath the water. Her fingers slid down the hip bone and brushed the base of my cock, then wrapped around it for a whole instant. I felt her close her hand and squeeze from top to bottom once, very slowly, and a soft moan escaped me that she heard perfectly.

“Fuck, you're already so thick,” she murmured. “You're getting me soaked.”

I pulled away abruptly, my heart racing.

“What are you doing? My wife is right there. Stop, please.”

“And what if your girl weren't there?” she murmured, no longer touching me, though her hand was still a few inches from my cock underwater. “Would you like me to keep going? Would you like me to suck you off right here, kneeling on the bottom? Or would you rather fuck me from behind while looking toward the shore, with people walking past without realizing?”

I didn't know what to say. My heart was pounding in my throat, and my cock throbbed as if it had a life of its own. I felt a thick drop emerge from the tip and disappear into the water.

“I'm going to stop. I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” she said, backing away with a smile. “But you should know that if you get bored over the next few days, we're here too.” She pointed to my wristband. “You'll find us. We're a couple who likes to play. Fuck, suck, watch, and be watched. And my husband especially gets off on seeing another cock inside me while he kisses me.”

She came out of the water, swaying her ass, and left me standing there, hypnotized, unsure whether it had really happened. When I finally went soft enough, I got out. I glanced at her: she was smiling without looking up from her magazine, her thighs crossed and her legs pressed together, knowing perfectly well that I was watching her.

I woke Carla, and we went back to the bungalow, barely a two-minute walk away. My cock tugged with every step.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked.

“Wonderfully. The swim left me refreshed, and I fell asleep in no time.”

***

After a quick salad, we lay side by side on the loungers in our pitch and began caressing each other. I ran my hand over her flat stomach, moved up to her tits, and pinched her piercing until she let out a low moan. She lowered her hand to my cock and began massaging it from top to bottom, squeezing the base with her palm every time she moved upward. It got hard after the second stroke, and I suggested going inside.

“Already?” she laughed, without letting go of my cock. “We've been at the campsite for four hours and you already want the first one.”

“We're behind schedule,” I said. “We should have done more than one by now.”

“Come on, get inside, everyone here is going to see us.”

On the way, I couldn't help looking toward Thierry and Hélène's bungalow. An open window, light inside, and a shadow moving behind the curtain.

Could someone be watching us?

We went inside and didn't even close the curtains all the way. Carla lay on the bed and spread her legs wide, knowing what I liked: seeing her completely offered up, her shaved pussy slowly opening, her shiny pink lips already wet. I knelt at the foot of the bed and began kissing her thighs very slowly, moving up from her knee to her groin, biting the soft skin on the inside.

“Don't torture me, Marcos,” she panted, grabbing my hair. “Get down there already.”

I obeyed. I lowered my face to her pussy and ran my whole tongue over it, from bottom to top, very slowly, savoring the salty, slightly acidic taste of my wife. She arched her back abruptly, and a long moan escaped her that must have been audible in the next bungalow. I licked her again, this time sliding the tip of my tongue between her lips, seeking her entrance and moving up to her clitoris, making slow circles.

“Yes, like that, fuck, like that,” she whispered, moving her hips against my mouth. “Suck my pussy, sweetheart, suck it properly.”

I had her soaked in four strokes. I slid a finger inside her while continuing to suck her clitoris and felt her pussy clamp down suddenly around it. She was much hotter than usual, much more receptive. I inserted a second finger and began moving them upward, searching for her spot, while my tongue kept tormenting her.

“I'm going to come, I'm going to come now,” she moaned, gripping my hair with both hands and pressing my face against her pussy. “Don't stop, don't stop.”

She came in a long spasm, her thighs squeezing my head and a series of broken moans she made no attempt to suppress. I felt her pussy throb around my fingers, contracting once, twice, three times. When she finally loosened her legs, I moved up, embraced her, and turned her onto her side with me pressed against her back, spooning her.

I lifted her top leg and slid inside her very slowly, feeling her soaked pussy, still contracting, open to receive my cock inch by inch. When I was fully inside, my balls pressed against her ass, I stayed still for a second, enjoying the feeling of her tight, hot, wet body around me.

“It feels so good inside you,” I whispered against her neck. “You're squeezing me so hard.”

“It's because you're driving me crazy today, Marcos. Fuck me, come on, start moving.”

I began moving slowly, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in to the hilt, seeking that slow rhythm that sends pleasure climbing up my spine. Carla moved her hips backward in time with me, seeking me out, pressing her ass against my stomach with every thrust.

“Do you like it?” she panted, turning her face slightly toward me.

“Very much,” I said against her neck, biting her shoulder. “You have my cock hard as a rock.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Whatever you want, but don't stop. Keep moving your ass like that.”

“I wasn't asleep,” she whispered, squeezing my cock suddenly with her pussy on the next thrust, so hard that I almost lost my rhythm. “I saw that blonde talking to you. How hard you got watching her walk toward the shore, how nervous and guilty you looked when you went into the water, how she followed you… What happened underwater, Marcos? Tell me while you fuck me.”

I quickened my pace without realizing it, thrusting harder. My throat tightened.

“She… she touched my cock,” I confessed against her ear. “She grabbed it underwater and squeezed it. She told me she wanted to suck me off right there.”

“Fuck,” she moaned, squeezing my cock again, this time hard, and lowering her hand to her clitoris to touch herself while I fucked her. “And what did you tell her, darling? Did you tell her yes?”

“I told her to stop,” I panted, thrusting deeper. “But I was drooling, Carla. Fuck, I was drooling.”

“Of course you were. And now you've got a rock-hard cock fucking me while you're thinking about her mouth around it. I love it, I love it, I love it.”

That finished me. I grabbed her firmly by the hip, pulled her against me, and came inside her with an intensity I hadn't felt in months, jet after jet, driving each one into her with a hard thrust all the way to the hilt, unable to form a single coherent word. She came at the same time, her fingers frantic over her clitoris and my cock buried to the balls, squeezing me so tightly inside that I felt her pussy milk every drop.

We stayed like that, joined together and breathing hard, until my cock began to soften on its own and slid out with a trickle of semen that ran down her thigh. We cleaned ourselves and remained wrapped in each other's arms, catching our breath.

“Sweetheart, all we did was talk,” I said at last, my pulse still racing. “And the erection was involuntary. You said it yourself: it's normal here.”

Carla cut me off at once, with a smile I'd never seen on her before.

“You didn't do anything wrong, silly. That couple is liberal—it couldn't be more obvious. And I, and I alone, allowed every bit of it to happen while pretending to sleep.” She kissed me and bit my lower lip before letting it go. “I'm good at pretending to sleep, aren't I? And you fuck me harder when you feel guilty, don't you?”

I stared at the bungalow ceiling, the murmur of the campsite coming through the window, my cock still soft and sticky against my wife's thigh, trying to understand what had just happened. I only knew one thing: there were three nights left, and neither of us planned to sleep for real again.