Guiding Natasha

Anton and Sveta never returned. We pouted to each other in private over drinks by the pool but understood they wanted alone time before she left the next day. Still, we were wasting the day waiting for them when we could be exploring the city. Finally we convinced each other to enjoy the evening. We took a walk, hand in hand, down the night-time beach. It was romantic.

The black water of the sea, punctuated occasionally by a light from a boat anchored off-shore seemed sinister. I wondered if sharks would patrol the nocturnal waters. Stars filled the sky black sky, and a cool breeze blew in. We left our sandals on as we let the incoming waves lap around our ankles. I talked my wife into trying to have sex somewhere on the beach. We walked up to some bushes and looked around to see if we were sufficiently isolated. We lay down on the beach and I kissed her and caressed her legs. Between the sand in weird places and the fear of being caught it didn't work. I made some joke about how it would be better to be fucked in the ass, as she had imagined that night in San Francisco. She thought that was hilarious. So we gave up, sexually frustrated, but in good spirits.

When we got back we met both of them also just arriving. They had some bags with souvenirs they'd bought. They had spent all day together, enjoying the town. We all agreed to meet at the pool bar for a nightcap. We did, but none of us were in a party mood. They were tired from walking around on a sunny day, and we blamed the elevator for our lack of sleep. As we returned to our rooms, I offered once again to try and change rooms and went to the front desk, but they couldn't.

I returned to our room, ironically in the same elevator that made us so miserable. When I got there, Natasha wasn't there. I heard laughing from the other room, knocked and they let me in.

"So, honey, they offered to let me sleep in this room tonight!"

There were two queen beds. I replied, "Sure, that's okay, I guess."

"Can you get my bag honey?" She said with a big smile.

Immediately I went over and brought it back. We chatted a bit longer and eventually they said they wanted to get to sleep. I went back to my lonely room and changed for bed. Before I lay down, I put my ear to the wall. It was silent so they must have truly settled down to sleep. I lay in the dark. There I was, the second night of my honeymoon, I hadn't had sex and my wife was sleeping in another room. It occurred to me that I was an outsider. I'd always sort of felt that way with my wife's friends.

I contemplated how I'd detached from most of my friends after I brought Natasha to the States, and had unconsciously made a whole set of new friends through her. It wasn't bad, but I realized sometimes I missed talking to people who understood my references to pop culture, politics, and humor. Spain was great, but the lack of English exacerbated the feeling. Again I lamented that they even had their own sleepover on my honeymoon, and I was on the outside looking in! I fell asleep mad.

The next morning was a little awkward as we saw Sveta off from the hotel lobby. Suddenly it was just the three of us. A few days ago I would have been thrilled, but now I just felt empty jitters. I'd decided before lunch that I most decidedly did not want my wife playing around with Anton. The anger of the previous night carried over.

The hurdles I'd have to navigate as a cuckold husband seemed insurmountable. Our relationship with our friends could be irreparably damaged. That attitude lasted about two hours. Anton had brought us a few beers by the pool. At some point I left to use the facilities and when I returned he was applying sunscreen to her back. I went for a quick swim and watched them as I paused in the shallow end to get my breath back. I imagined them together, married, instead of with me. My penis hardened against the netting inside my swim trunks. I swam another deep lap to kill it. I didn't want to come out of the pool with a raging hard-on.

I wanted to pull my spying stunt again. The booze had been working it's way into my brain, and my judgement was clouded. As I toweled off I mentioned I wanted to take a siesta. I grabbed my things out of the bag I shared with Natasha, including both our room keys, and went upstairs to lock myself in the room. I wanted her to be forced to hang out with Anton. If she knocked I'd not answer and later claim I was temporarily out, apologizing for accidentally taking her key. Sure enough, about 45 minutes later their was a knock at the door. I had nodded off and awoke with a jolt. I briefly considered letting her in but then I heard them talking about going to his room. I sat their for fifteen minutes after I heard their door open and shut. I could hear the sound of the shower running. I imagined them both in the shower, the water running out of her hair, and down the crack of her ass. I fantasized about him taking her, making love in the shower.

I decided to go to their room and solve the room key issue. I knew my fantasy was just that, and sure enough, my wife opened the door in all her normal attire, and Anton was still in the bathroom getting dressed. I explained I'd gone to the lobby to attempt to get another room. She believed it.

I resolved to go to Plan B. Alcohol, and lots of it.

That evening after dinner we all went down to the pool bar. There was a small crowd and some familiar faces so we mingled. Every half hour I brought Anton and Natasha refilled drinks, irregardless of who they were speaking with. I was on a mission to loosen them up.

The music started and my wife barely needed encouragement to dance with me. We all danced as a group, and it was awkward, but that was part of my plan. Eventually a slow song came on and I danced with my wife. We'd break for more drinks and start again. Finally a slow song came on again.

"Anton," I said, "You look so lonely. Let me dance with you."

He looked at me oddly but Natasha got the joke and we all had a good ice breaking laugh.

"Honey, why don't you show Anton a good time," I said, "I need a break and he needs the company."

She happily danced with him. It wasn't the first time, but it was intense for me. They danced chest to chest. At first he grabbed her hip, but smoothly just slid it down to her ass. He was feeling her ass, I'd never seen that. The chatted as they danced, but eventually she put her head on his shoulder. She didn't or wouldn't make eye contact. When it was done she went to the bar while he came over to me.

I realized I needed to push buttons, navigate the evening and not just leave everything to luck and fate.

"See Anton, I'm not a jealous guy." These were my first words as he sat down next to me. I handed him another drink and he declined.

"Well, it's not like I kissed her." He replied.

"Well you see, good buddy, good pal, my wife and I, we've been married forever," I said, and he laughed at the sarcasm, "So if you kiss her again, just make sure to videotape it. I kinda like watching you two together."

We both laughed. I wondered if he understood I wasn't joking.

With that my wife came by with some waters and we all drank them to counteract the effects of dehydration from all the booze. I didn't want to feel horrible the next day, but I was lit. Again my wife grabbed my hand to dance, but I just grabbed her and started kissing her in front of Anton. She was extremely receptive.

I whispered in her ear, "Just watching you two together. If he tries to kiss you, let him. Come on honey, it's the perfect time."

I told her I was going to the restroom, but really I was just putting distance between them and me. I wanted to see how it would play out. When a slow song came on, he got up and invited her to dance. She obliged. The entire time his hand cupped her ass, and her head lay on his shoulder.

The song ended and people started clapping but she just looked up and he kissed her full on the mouth. Somehow I had done all I could to get to this moment, but I had butterflies furiously beating in the pit of my stomach as I watched. Far from being satisfied, I was overcome by feelings of shame. Yet it was incredibly erotic. When they broke their kiss they looked at me and I just golf clapped, playing it cool.

They returned hand in hand and made a big happy show of saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry honey, I just couldn't help myself!"

She was protecting my pride, bless her heart. She had no idea I'd given Anton the green light.

"Hey, come here!" I said in mock bewilderment. She sat on my lap and I leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Oh that made me horny."

"I can tell!" She said, bouncing up and down jokingly on my stiffy.

"Sit on his lap."

Anton just stared at her as she straddle his lap. She faced him in his chair, grabbed him on the shoulders and straddled him. She had to adjust her skirt up just to get her legs around him. She was being sultry, yet comedic. She was testing the waters but trying to be non-threatening. She looked over at me as she mock hugged him, "Oh dear, Anton, you are all alone tonight. Maybe your friends can make it better."

He responded by kissing her, passionately, on the lips. Instead of withdrawing, she scooted in even closer, if that was possible, and made out with him. I felt so turned on but sick to my stomach. My cock was over-riding my senses. Eventually she stood up an hopped onto me and did the same thing. Fellow hotel guests around us noticed and a drunk girl even clapped and cheered her on.

"Let's go upstairs." I said in her ear, and I led her up, and motioned for Anton to follow us.

All of my senses were heightened. I felt like an animal in danger, my adrenaline effecting me in physical ways. As we entered the elevator, I noticed my hand was shaking as I pushed the buttons. Anton grabbed her again and they made out on the way up. I basically functioned as a pathfinder, opening doors and guiding them into my room. Into my long term memory were imprinted the color of the drapes, the feeling of cool, air conditioned hotel room air as it enveloped me as we entered.

I realized I had to use the bathroom and dashed in, closing the door behind me and hitting the now seemingly bright lights. My cock was so hard I had to sit down to pee and let my body calm down until the flow started. It must have took at least two minutes from fitful start to finish. I was so excited I had to stuff my cock back into my underwear manually.

I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. It seemed time had slowed. I looked in the mirror. I gave myself a big smile. It felt like I was looking at somebody else. I felt ugly. I felt helpless. I snapped back into reality and realized I'd been away from any possible action for at least a couple of minute. I turned off the lights, then gently opened the door.

My wife was facing away from me as she made out with Anton. The drapes were open, but the lights were off. The glow of the lights from the night outside illuminated them slightly. Already her skirt was on the floor around her ankles. His shirt was off. He stroked the outside of her thighs gently, the backs of his hands on her skin on the way up, his palms on the way down. As they did this I just stood there frozen.

What the hell was I supposed to do? This seemed perfect. I didn't want to ruin anything, not the mood, nor atmosphere. I didn't dare re-close the door out of fear the sound would break the trance. I focused on my wife's ass while they continued to kiss and stroke each other. My eyes were adjusting to the dim room. Through the gap between her legs I watched his fingers rub her panty covered pussy. He tried to finger her, but cloth denied entry. Her panties clung obscenely into her sex as he removed his fingers. They must have been sticky with her wetness.

I trembled and I swear my heart stopped as I saw what she did next. She stepped out of her skirt and and started to squat down, kissing his bare chest on the way down. He unbuckled his pants, she unbutton them and pulled them down. Her panties stretched wide across globes of her ass and hips. She didn't even grab his penis. It stuck straight out so she opened her mouth sucked it. Back and forth her head bobbed as she made love to it with her lips. I imagined she could taste his pre-sperm. My stomach dropped.

After a minute of this she stood up and turned around to look at me, a smile on her face.

"I need to use the restroom, sorry!" She said as she pranced back toward me. She quickly gave me a peck on the cheek as she ran past and closed the bathroom door.

Anton seemed embarrassed, reaching down to pull up his pants.

"Ssh, don't do that," I whispered. "It's all good."

I didn't want to get too close to him. I didn't want to weird him out, and frankly it would have felt odd to me, even considering what I had just seen. I absentmindedly scratched an itch on my cheek, and I inwardly laughed. It was Natasha's sperm and saliva mix. I knew because it didn't wipe off, but seemed to spread down my cheek, coating it, as I felt it with a fingertip. I sat on a small comfortable chair, by the balcony. The same one I'd used to scope those two out earlier.

She seemed to take forever. I wondered if she was changing her mind. I didn't say anything to Anton, who by this time was sitting on the bed, his dick semi-hard. I couldn't help but glance at it. Even in this light it seemed animalistic compared to my familiar circumcised penis. He was uncut so in the semi-hard state, the phrase 'tube-snake', came to mind. My own cock hardened as I imagined it injecting into my wife. Hell, it's venom was on my cheek. It wasn't venom at all. We looked up simultaneously to the front of the room when we heard the door click. Natasha ran over to the bed, her panties were now missing.

Before I could say a word Anton and her just started making out on the bed. She grabbed his cock, and jacked it a few times so it became hard in seconds. No longer a 'tube-snake', it seemed like a proper penis, the head engorged past his foreskin. The vein pattern was foreign. It seemed aggressive. He slid his hands down between her crotch and slipped a finger in. Natasha moaned heavily. He fucked her with his hand, fingering her. Natasha's moan was loud and continuous. Between breaths she'd gasp out 'Yes' in Russian, "Da. Da. Da".

I started to jack off but I fucked up and accidentally ruined my orgasm. My balls had produced so much cum my underwear was sticky. I had no problem coaxing more clear liquid from my penis tip to lubricate my cock. He must have fingered her for another couple of minutes. The nerves under my shaft were electric.

"Oh baby," she said to me, "look at me. Don't you enjoy this? Anton feeling me?"

The sight of her pussy being raped by his fingers was so erotic, but I didn't want to come. But, I'd waited a split second too long.

"No, no, no, no!" I mentally cursed myself. Like a kid knowing they were about to go over the first big hill of a roller-coaster, I just knew I was going to spurt.

And my cock pumped thick white sperm out without the intense pleasure normally induced. I didn't have anything to clean myself with.

His hand was vibrating between her legs. She balled her fists and slammed them into the mattress.

She looked at me and said, "Fuck Me. Fuck me now."

I stood up, excited. With a ruined orgasm it is possible to get hard again very quickly. I pulled off my clothes and slid onto the bed ready to mount her, but when she grabbed my cock she said, "What? You already finished?"

The question was rhetorical because instead of me getting to explain, she said, "That's okay. Anton, fuck me now." And she pulled him over on top of her.

I watched another man prepare to mount my wife. He nudged her legs apart, one over his shoulder, the other kicked out toward me. I reached out and grabbed her calf. Her vagina was obscenely displayed. His fingering had turned her normally tight little slit into a small gash. I could see into the hollow of her vagina, a round hole surrounded by pink flesh. He leaned in and placed his now rock hard penis tip on her pussy and purposely dragged it up and down her cunt lips. Then he pushed it in.

Natasha yelped sharply, "Ohhhhh."

My wife was getting fucked. Anton's cock seemed to disappear completely inside her has he thrust so hard an audible slap was heard. He pulled out slowly, then quickly pistoned in again. She didn't vocalize at all. On penetrating stroke she would breath in sharply, when he was all the way in her breath with hesitate, as if she was getting into a cold pool, and finally the exhale as he pulled back. That was how I witnessed my wife getting railed by our friend.

I stroked her leg more aggressively, anything to be part of the action. My cock was already hard again and I pumped my cock furiously with my free hand. I tried to maneuver so that she would jack me off, but she was so consumed by the fucking that she squeezed too hard, as if she was balling her fists again from the pleasure.

Anton was done with the teasing. His goal was complete and total orgasm and he quickened the pace, and then he grunted as he pressed his cock deep insider her and held it. For some reason that grunt has always stayed with me. It was the moment I realized his muscles in and around his balls and the base of his penis contracted, forcing out his white ejaculate, hundreds of millions of sperm into her vagina, the semen slightly thick, to ensure that it doesn't drain out immediately. I silently thanked God that she was on the pill. He pulled out and flopped down on top of her, kissing her neck and shoulders.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you both."

I spurted onto the carpet. It was not a ruined orgasm.

We all breathed out in relief and flopped down onto the bed. Even on a queen sized mattress it was kind of a tight squeeze. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak. I asked if anybody wanted a drink of water and they both said yes. I got up and filled two glasses for them. Both of them were sitting at the head of the bed, as if they were just reading a book or watching TV, a single sheet now covering them to keep them warm. I slid in next to them.

"That was great." I volunteered, and they both laughed.

"My God it hurt so bad. So good, but it was painful. Maybe he's a little bigger than I thought." Natasha said.

"Thank you, guys." Anton repeated. I think he was stunned.

"Don't thank me," Natasha said. "It was his idea."

I sat their uncomfortably, a guilty smile on my face. The butterflies returned to me stomach. Oh Christ, the unintended consequences.

I tried to explain myself. "I can't help it, I guess it's my kink. I saw you two together and my mind just got rolling. When you tried to kiss Natasha at that party it just well, set a ticking time bomb, I guess."

"Oh, tried to kiss?" He laughed. "Is that what you told him?"

Natasha went red and put a pillow to her face. "Sorry, sorry!" And she looked at me again, "Should I tell him about the vibrator?"

"No!"

I felt so stupid. I regretted everything. Here I was trying to explain myself and I was just feeling more ashamed every time somebody opened their mouth.

"Please?" She asked.

"Fine." And I gulped.

"Well, we were at a hotel, when he asked me to marry him, and we had this vibrator. Well, I wanted to give him the gay test."

Anton chuckled, "The gay test?"

"Yes, I got him to bend over and put it in."

"Gay!" Anton announced.

Everybody laughed, me with mortification.

"No," Natasha said. He couldn't keep his thing up, so he passed. Not gay.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the vowel 'O', "but why give him the gay test?"

"Because he couldn't stop talking about you during sex!" And she laughed and he just looked at me smiling with one eyebrow up.

I had a smile pasted to my face. Inside I wanted to die. I wanted Anton to think of me as an equal. Perhaps it was a ridiculous fantasy, but I had hope, and that hope seemed to crash around me.