Gail Overnights

If you have not read our postings I'll tell you what we look like. Firstly, this is all real. We are an early thirties couple, I am 5'10", in reasonable shape. My wife Gail is an exceptionally beautiful and intelligent woman, soft spoken and very shy. She is 5'7" with a young girls figure, long shapely legs, small breasted, and a picture perfect behind. Her light brown hair blondes in the sun and she has the loveliest green eyes. Hadrian @ All rights reserved

Introduction

We arrived in France two weeks ago at the start of our holidays. A week was spent on board a stately yacht in Cannes. We met the yatch owner through Tamara, a delightful and sophisticated British senior who, despite the age difference, has become a close friend of my wife, Gail.

Tamara introduced us to Charlotte and Duncan last year, the owners of the yacht, and they invited us to spend our holiday aboard. Eventually we accepted, thus our week on board. The yacht stay did not work out for us, so we drove to Monte Carlo to spend the next week, then we would travel to Greece for the last part of our holiday.

During the first days on board Gail and I shared sexual experiences with Charlotte and Duncan. Later, Gail had a liaison with a young man named Richard, and her first experience with two men. Unfortunately, I was not one of the two.

If you would like to know more about our holiday preceding this Monaco stay, you may turn to Literotica - Stories & Pics - Authors Index - Hadrian M - Gail surprises Rian and Gail dives with Richard.

The Story

Gail and I were comfortable in the hotel in Monte Carlo, and well into a daily rhythm of the beach, lunch in boutique restaurants, and playing tennis every day. Evenings we tried new restaurants, Thai and Vietnamese food, a Swiss restaurant for Fondue Chinoise, and we played, Gail flashed outrageously, and we made love at every opportunity.

Our friend Peter returned to Monte Carlo on a Thursday. Peter was an American business man we had met in France three years earlier. He had expanded his interests during the time we knew him, and was now operating his business in the USA and in France and Italy. He kept an apartment in Monaco and Gail and I had used the apartment for a few days, prior to his return.

We still had several days remaining, before we would fly to Greece with Giancomo and Gabriella. Phyllis did not arrive with Peter and when we asked where she was, he informed us that she had to remain with their daughter. He indicated Phyllis might not make it back in time to see us. We later learned they were supporting their daughter through some trying times.

The first evening Peter was back we met him at his apartment building. We invited him to a Vietnamese restaurant we had found, and then we went to a small café just around the street from his apartment. It was the hangout and drink spot for most of the tenants in his building. We sat and talked, Peter asking lots of questions about Gail, about my recent promotion, and what we had been doing since arriving in France this year. At one point he commented, "It seems like the only way I'll get to spend time with you folks is if I buy a boat."

"I'll choose dinner tomorrow," Peter suggested. "Come over for drinks first, I want to show you something."

We didn't play tennis the next day. Gail lolled around in the sun at the hotel pool. I sat nearby under an umbrella reading. At one point Gail ordered a mineral water, and a Pernod water for me. When the drinks were delivered Gail leaned over to pass the drink, "Don't look now," she said. "The man across the pool tried to start a conversation yesterday. He actually got out on our floor just to keep talking."

I immersed myself in my book for some ten minutes, then remembered Gail's comment and raised my eyes, without moving my head. The man was probably late thirties, with a very retired hairline. He also had a very hairy chest, and arms, and looked like he worked out regularly. His whole body was beautifully toned, not body building heavy but muscular. And, I noticed that he took the time to look up towards Gail every few minutes.

Not one to let an opportunity go by, Gail moved her kegs, first placing her left leg on the ground to lean over to the table, then bending her knees and slightly spreading her legs. Each time he had to be gazing straight to her crotch and I could only imagine the state of Gail's bikini between her legs. Many of the guests at the pool were topless. When I mentioned to Gail that we should leave soon, she reached behind her and undid her bikini top, and sat topless the rest of the time we were there. The hairy man sat, awestruck, now even more conspicuous with his starring.

We took a nap in the afternoon and when I woke up Gail was sitting in the bath. I ordered drinks, sat at the tub and chatted with Gail, and we both took a leisurely two hours preparing for dinner.

I watched Gail for some moments just before we were ready to leave. She looked bewitching. She wore a light red dress that had white stripes on the top, with the bottom part a solid red. The top fit snugly, the skirt part was loose and flowing. hanging just above her knees. It had a button down front from neck to waist, and she left the top two buttons open. She wore sandals that had little colored stones, mostly red, and her toenails were painted red as well. We had carnations in our room and one of the yellow flowers was pinned to her hair. She had green and white color around her eyes, and bright red lipstick. Her coloring, from a day in the sun made her look fresh and much younger. "You look so beautiful," I commented, more in awe then as a statement of love.

When we arrived at Peters apartment I stood in awe once again. Peter looked like an Italian fashion figure. He was wearing a beige linen jacket, dark brown pants and a blue cotton shirt and tie. I laughed, "Peter, you look like a European, where are you buying your clothes. They look great."

Peter laughed, then looking at Gail said, "Do you like the change?"

"Very stylish," she responded, "Are they Italian made?"

Peter shook his head from side to side being silly, "Brioni, Roma," he said, trying to use an Italian accent.

We opened and poured champagne for three. Peter went into his bedroom and returned with a small portfolio. "I've gone into the wine business," he announced, and he handed Gail and I a small brochure that had a list of ten or fifteen wines. "I'm buying wine in bulk, in Australia and selling it here in Europe to those producers, and he pointed to the brochure. "I'm getting paid in finished wine which we will sell to the USA." Peter stood waiting for our comment. When there was none, he added, "And, I'm going to make you my Chile agent."

Peter took us to dinner at the Hotel Paris. We were so accustomed to seeking out new and stylish restaurants that we often missed the old great names. As we were led to our table men stopped eating in mid fork to stare as Gail breezed by. Peter knew some of the staff and was particularly flamboyant. I guessed he didn't often walk in with anyone as enchanting as Gail, and he made the most of it.

Selecting our wine was a story in itself. When the sommelier arrived Peter began a discussion about which white to choose as a starter, and which wine with our meal. I was amazed at Peter's knowledge, and even more surprised at the wonderful wines that he selected that evening. We left the restaurant two hours later, very pleased with the dinner, and lightheaded as well.

We moved from the restaurant to the lobby where Peter insisted we have an after dinner drink. We followed in a line, Peter leading the way as we walked toward a seating area. The guests, mostly a little older crowd, turned to watch as Gail walked through. Halfway there, Peter leaned backward toward Gail, and commented, "You're like a fresh breeze passing through the hall." We reached a seating area with four sofa chairs around a table. Peter placed his arm on a chair waiting for Gail to sit. Gail stepped in front of the chair and when she was seated Peter leaned closer and said, "I was dazed for a moment when I saw you yesterday, I forgot how beautiful you are." It was all meant for Gail even though he spoke loud enough for me to hear.

Gail's head was tilted downward, she looked up at Peter, the way a person does when looking over their glasses, and gave a half smile. Her lips tilted to the left, and she blushed from face to neck, her green eyes flitting over Peter, and whispered, "Thank you Peter, that's nice of you to say."

Peter ordered Port. We informed him that we were fast becoming Port experts, since our host in Cannes continually served Port. Forty five minutes later we left the Hotel Paris, and Peter drove us toward our hotel. We stopped at a traffic light and Peter turned to look at me. Gail was sitting in the back. "I'm going to a vineyard tomorrow, to a wine maker, would you care to come along?"

"Is it an all day thing?" I asked.

"We'd be back late evening, maybe at night," Peter said.

"I'll pass," Gail chimed from the back, "if you don't mind?"

"Me too," I said, "I have a game." I added, "We'll see you the next day."

We were passing Peters apartment building, "Want to stop in for a nightcap, he asked? and turned to look at me.

When he faced forward again I turned to look at Gail, and she nodded a yes. "Sure," I answered, "You're the one with meetings tomorrow."

We were all pretty loose by the time we plopped onto the couch in Peters apartment. Peter announced he would open another bottle of champagne. I was already feeling the wine and Port and I turned to look at Gail, raising my eyebrows in the process.. She smiled her understanding, then opened both hands at her sides as if to say, so what's one more.

We sat and talked, drank another glass of champagne, then another, and there were still more things to talk about. Gail had been quiet for a while when Peter looked at her and said, "You're being so demure this evening."

"I am not," Gail insisted, feigning hurt. "I've had just as much to say as both of you, when I can get a word in."

I smiled. Now it was Peters turn to make believe pout, "And you didn't even kiss me hello, when you saw me yesterday," he complained.

"Oh you poor man," Gail said. Then she rose from the couch and stepped toward Peter who was sitting in a Victorian chair. Gail bent forward, her drink in her left hand, her right hand resting on the chair arm, and she kissed Peter on the mouth. It wasn't a long kiss, but I saw Gail's mouth open as their lips met, and I thought they were touching tongues.

Gail stood up, and looking at me she said, "You're next, love," then she turned and headed toward the WC.

When Gail returned she walked to the couch and sat on my lap, her right arm around my neck, her left hand having taken up her champagne. And, good to her word, she kissed me, pretty intensely I thought. I continued to chat with Peter for a few more minutes, then I excused myself as I headed toward the WC.

I'm sure I was no longer then two or three minutes, when I returned Peter was sitting where I had been, this time Gail was sitting in his lap, they were kissing. He had his right hand lying across her thighs urging her toward him, and his large left hand was spread across her lower back.

I sat on the couch where Peter had been, watching them. When they came up for air Peter began to move his right hand, touching her thighs. The movement was causing Gail's dress to slowly inch up, revealing more leg, and she did nothing to adjust it. Gail turned to look at me, smiling coyly,"Ri, come here please," she said. When I was beside her she handed me her glass which I placed on the side table, then she held my hand as she spoke, "I told Peter what we had talked about... about trying with three people," and she stared at my face, searching.

I wasn't surprised, nor angry, just unprepared. My libido hadn't been fired up for this, yet. Gail kissed my hand, then, while still starring, she placed my hand on her breast. Peter was already touching her legs and his hand had moved lower on her back. I touched her breasts, and even bent to kiss her neck, but my attempt at passion, was feeble. Gail sensed my uncertainty and reached for the buttons on her dress, and began to open them all, down to her waist. Peter held the dress as she passed her arms through the sleeves. I stood there foolishly, cupping one breast over her brassiere as Gail leant forward and started kissing Peter again.

I was leaning against Gail's arm, I believe just to be noticed, and I realized that I wasn't getting hard. When Gail broke from kissing Peter she turned toward me and beckoned me with her hands to kiss her. We kissed but it was, or at least I was, passionless. I felt Gail's tongue, and I reciprocated, but my mind was playing through a tumult of thoughts, there was no fervor. While we were kissing I felt movement and I opened my eyes, and watched Peter as he leaned forward to find the hooks and unsnap her brassiere. I watched her breasts bounce free. Gail ended our kiss, I'm sure she sensed my mood, and she turned back to kissing Peter.

I don't know how long this one sided exchange went on. Gail finally stopped the foreplay and, pushing away from Peter, she stood up. She reached for the hem of her dress and lifted her arms, pulling the dress first off her arms, and then over her head, protecting the flower in her hair with her hand. She stood before us, her hips gently flared, looking down knowing that we were absorbing every second of this vision, and realizing the effect of her nakedness, and her transparent beige panties. My Aphrodite, with a tanned body barely showing bikini lines, and long legs that tapered to delicate ankles, still wearing her sandals.

Peter rose and started to undress. He almost ripped off his shirt, his pants slid to the floor a second later. I followed suit, starting with my pants. I didn't have the passion that was sure to be driving Peter, but I didn't want to be outdone. I remembered, Gail was doing this because it was my fantasy.

We were all standing in our underwear, in front of a huge sliding glass patio door, the sea and city lights outside the window. "Let's go in the bedroom," Peter suggested, and he reached out his hand for Gail. I followed the two, watching Gail from behind, her thin figure but a shadow behind the broadness of Peter.

My stomach was in knots, it actually pained. As we passed the WC I paused, "Excuse me for a minute," I said, but no one was listening. I closed the bathroom door and sat on the closed toilet. I tried taking deep breaths. I questioned myself, was it the alcohol, or was I really not ready for this. Then I thought I had better hurry to be with Gail. Picturing what she might be doing at this moment was torture. I felt like I would be sick, and I turned around and opened the toilet. Nothing.

Whether I was in the WC five or fifteen minutes, I don't know. When I finally regained my composure I opened the door and walked the few steps down the brightly lit hall. In the bedroom a single lamp was burning on the bedside table, casting light over the top of the bed. The hall light brightly illuminated the end of the bed, which was facing the door and was my first view of Peters back. His naked behind was before me, with his legs spread apart and extended to the end of the bed. His arms were outstretched, resting on both sides of her, his behind clenching as he fucked my wife. All I could see of Gail was a part of her legs, knees bent, spread apart on either side of Peter, and her naked bottom beneath him.

I stood right behind them mesmerized. I could see Peter's behind cheeks clench as he thrust himself into Gail. His cock looked like a black steel rod anchored into Gail, then his balls at the top, then his cock again as it continued into his groin. As he withdrew his cock it glistened fat and shiny. I could see where it entered Gail's pussy, her hole indented each time he thrust into her, and as he withdrew the lips of her pussy were clinging to his cock, as if trying to stop him from pulling out.

The tight knot of his balls would press down, Gail urging him in with her hands on his behind. Each time he humped forward I heard, "Uuhhh," from Gail, in a breathy sound like she were sucking in air. I actually took a half step backward to better see, and I watched his thick and shiny cock slide out of her, and it kept on withdrawing…it went on forever. I imagined that it was sliding out from the depths of her belly. Then Peter pushed forward again and as his balls neared her behind, again the breathy "Uuhhh." This went on and on, Peter never quickening his pace. Then Gail whispered, "Do it…do it…Uuhhh," startling me with the pleading tone of her voice.

Peter responded by leaning a little to his left but he continued with the same rhythm. I stood stone still, I don't think they knew I had entered the room. His cock came out even further than before, again I was surprised at the length, I tried to imagine were it was ending up in her belly. I started to touch myself. Gail did it again, "Uuhhh," the same breathy sound, "Do it… cum in me, Ooahhh." Gail's hand grasped Peter more firmly, causing her fingers to dig into the cheeks of his behind.

"Ooahhh," Gail sounded again, and this time Peter started thrusting harder. "Ooahh… yes, Ohhh, yeees," the word yes sounding raspy and long. Gail's legs spread further, her heels spurring into his thighs, "Ooahhh," she sounded and then she started to whimper, "Huh, ahuh, I'm cumming," then again whimpering "Ahuh, ahhh, ahuh" over and over again. Peter kept humping into her as Gail whimpered, then she suddenly exclaimed, "Oohh I'm cumming, ohahh, yes," and she shook and trembled with her orgasm.

Peter fired by her orgasm, started making growling sounds, "Aachh," as Gail's hands again reached for his behind, now pleading with him, "Yes, cum… cum in me." Peter growled again and Gail responded, "Do it…cum…do it." When Peter reached his time he thrust forward into Gail with such force that the whole bed moved. He sounded a deep throaty growl "Aagghh, aaghh," and his behind cheeks clenched as he spurted his cum into Gail… then again clenching and growling "Aaghh," and I could see him twitch each time his cum burst free, and Gail whispered, "Ooh yes… I feel it."

Peter stayed on top of Gail, still inside her. He softly spoke, "You don't know how sweet it is to love you again." I cringed; his using the word love really bothered me.

Finally, Gail remembered, "Where's Ri," she said. She moved her head to the left and saw me standing at the foot of the bed. She just looked, didn't say anything. Peter had still not turned enough to see me. Gail moved so that Peter came out of her. At the same time I turned around and left the room.

I stood by the sliding patio door and looked out at the city, and the sea beyond. Moments later Gail was behind me. She placed her left arm around my waist and rested her cheek against my shoulder. After a minute or two she said, "Let's go," and she stepped to the couch and started to get dressed.

When Gail left the bedroom she had asked Peter to stay. As we left I mustered as much bravado as I could and called out, "Goodnight Peter." His response wafted back, "Night Ri."

We walked all the way back to the hotel. Gail had her hand hooked on my arm for much of the way, then she took my hand and it swayed with hers as we walked. We didn't say a word. It was almost 2 AM when we reached the hotel, but there were people exiting an elevator, laughing among themselves as they left. Thankfully we rode up alone. Gail's first words were, "Please don't be angry Ri, it was what you wanted… I thought you would be pleased."

When we were in the room I sat on the end of the bed and told Gail how I felt about what happened. She took my face between her hands and kissed my cheeks, my mouth, and my forehead, and expressed how sorry she was. I undressed and got in bed. After spending a while in the bathroom, Gail emerged, completely naked, and crawled beneath the sheets. She lay on her side beside me and we spoke for a while. Then her hands started exploring, touching my thighs, my cock, hefting my balls. It felt good but, it didn't excite me.