Journey to Another Life Ch. 06

All this with her husband's permission.

Ed tried not to stare but it was futile. To lessen his disgust with himself for agreeing to such a monstrous plan, he drank. When he tried to temper his intake, his eyes roamed to the dance floor. In her revealing red dress as lacking in subtlety as it was in decency, it didn't take long for her to become the focus of attention for most of the bar. He hated himself for being proud of her. Proud of his hot little slut.

She danced with a certain practiced abandon. Her moves were not as uninhibited as they'd been back in the city, when her primary motivation was to have unencumbered fun at nobody's expense. Tonight she moved like a woman who knows she's being watched because she'll have it no other way. Nikki attracted attention and fed on it. She knew every man wanted her, and she wanted every one of them to entertain the notion, however brief, that he just might be able to have her.

The two black men were understandably territorial. When other men approached, they moved their position to block access. The taller one employed a dance move that was at once suave and strategic, as it served to pull her away from any man that threatened to interrupt their partnership.

Nikki seemed to have no qualms whatsoever. She moved with confidence and emanated an infectious joie de vivre that even other women responded to. A few gave her sidelong glances designed to dismiss her but most laughed right along with her, even when she lured their men toward her with a crook of her finger or a wink of an eye.

She put her heart and soul into her dancing, though. Her moves were flawless, her timing perfect. She was fluid seduction: a beautiful woman in a red dress with no visible barriers to her perfection.

The taller black man dominated the other somewhat, Ed couldn't help but notice. Even when Nikki pressed up against the shorter one and made eye contact with him, the taller one would find a moment where he could pull her away. Nikki would respond by trying to dance with both of them, but the taller one wasn't as gracious as he should have been. Each time it happened, something flickered in the tall man's eyes and his back got straighter. He would dance with Nikki however he could but it was increasingly clear that he wanted her for himself, even if it was just for one dance.

A third man, not quite black but not quite white, interceded, cleverly directing Nikki into his arms and away from the black men. Everyone in the club had obviously noticed the rivalry between the two black men, and this one lone man seemed brave enough to mix things up. Some onlookers even applauded his bravery. Nikki just laughed and danced with him, shaking her tits at him in gratitude.

The shorter man took a long swig of somebody's drink, and a few minutes later, danced up behind Nikki and encircled her in his arms. People thought the move was cute. Protective, even. But when he grabbed a tit with each hand, massaged like crazy, and then pushed the straps of her dress aside to reveal those tits to anybody who cared to watch, the tall man came unglued.

Mr. Tall yanked Nikki from Mr. Short's clutches, put her tits back in her dress, and dragged her to the bar. They resumed the spot where they'd been earlier, only now there were just two of them. Mr. Short remained on the dance floor, already paired with another partner—some blonde who looked like she'd probably saved a long time for this trip and didn't have much experience with either black men or dancing in a nightclub.

Ed's eyes watched the tall black man with Nikki. He bought her another drink. Then he leaned against the bar, with his back to Ed, which meant that Nikki faced Ed. The man spoke in a low voice to her, aiming his words into her hair and using the opportunity to slip in a few kisses. Nikki, somewhat disheveled and out of breath, made no attempt to push him away or fight him off. When the man seized the moment to kiss her, long and hard and clearly with an open mouth, she let him. Her eyes fluttered shut as she surrendered to his big, black body but they did open briefly to stare straight at Ed, who was too stunned to show her how he was really feeling.

How was he really feeling?

Watching her in the bar that night was like watching an action adventure film. He couldn't tear himself away but knew that it was all make-believe. He appreciated the special effects but took none of them seriously. He wished he was in the film but was equally happy to be in the audience, where the risks were few and the stimulation ongoing.

Nikki and the tall man were now actively making out, doing nothing to camouflage their mutual desire. Her half-lidded eyes locked with his and what he saw jolted him. What was that look in her eye? He'd never seen it before. He'd seen her in passionate moments and thought he knew what that looked like. This look was not that. It was power, surrender, lust, and something else. What?

He may have thought about it for too long. When he discarded his reverie to focus on reality, he saw the man's hand had moved to Nikki's crotch. He couldn't see everything, of course, but from her weak-kneed posture and his disappearing right hand, Ed deduced what was happening. The man was actually diddling his wife, right there at the bar. Amid the drunken, dance-happy crowd, however, the man might have thought nobody noticed. But he was wrong.

Ed noticed.

He remembered that Nikki wasn't wearing panties. There was no way this dude could have missed his target, then. In his big, black hands was Nikki's creaming pussy, by now smearing a load of juice all over his fingers and palm. And in response, she could be heard cooing and moaning. It was a spectacle beyond his tolerance.

Ed whipped out his cell phone and put it to his ear. But her eyes were closed in the rapture from that asshole's probing fingers. Damn him!

Ed kept the phone glued to his ear. And waited. Nikki's eyes suddenly sprung open. She looked straight at Ed and then pulled away from the black man's embrace. Ed watched her say something before she headed for the restroom.

Ed met her there, surprised at the steam coming from his ears. "What the hell was that?"

She looked distracted and annoyed. Her face glowed. "Could you be more specific?"

"That man had his hand between your legs!" Ed's outrage seeped out of him slowly but was now fully exposed. He couldn't pretend not to feel it.

"I'm a fucking slut, remember?!"

They hissed loudly at each other, trying to keep their voices low but wanting to be heard by one another. Flames flickered in her eyes as she reminded him why they had come to the bar in the first place.

He took her by the arm. "But he had his fingers up your cunt in public! In public!" He was prepared, he thought, to hand her over to someone else in private but to have her groped where everybody could see was a different matter entirely.

"Up. My. Cunt," she repeated slowly, her bright green eyes boring into his with every syllable. "I'm still creaming just thinking about it!"

The question made him conscious of the steel rod in his pants. He was so hard, he felt the need to crouch.

The air between them lost its static. A blanket of silence hovered over them instead.

"He fingered my clit right at the bar, Ed. He pushed his big, black finger up my hole and wiggled it. I've never creamed so much in my life."

Her words were at odds with the conspiratorial tone in her voice, but suddenly, his anger dissolved. They were a team again. She confided in him, her partner in sexual experimentation, and so he didn't feel excluded any longer. Her disclosure reminded him of their plan, the plan they'd agreed to execute tonight.

"I warned you that you'd see things that might alarm you tonight," she said. Annoyance still laced her speech and he still felt that she was strangely distracted, but it didn't upset him as much now.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I've only just begun." Her pupils were dilated and that strange, crazed look still dominated her expression. "Things are going to get a lot hotter before this night is over."

The husband in him told him to speak up and advise her against doing anything she'd regret. The man in him, however, wanted to stay and find out what she had in mind.

"So, when are you going to the villa?" he asked.

"Soon. Especially if he fingers me like that again. Whew!" She ran her fingers through her hair.

"When is soon? Five minutes? Half an hour?"

"I'm not sure. It's hard to say. But maybe you want to head over there now so you can get set up to see everything."

Was she trying to get rid of him?

"Well, I don't want to be waiting there for hours."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged as her eyes darted back to the slice of bar visible from the restrooms.

"You don't know how long it'll be?" He persisted.

"No, I don't! Look, just head over there and I'll be along when I get there, okay?" She turned and started to walk away, but stopped herself after two steps. She turned back to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. "No more interruptions, though, all right, sweetie?"

He nodded like an obedient dog. She returned to the bar and her waiting stud. Ed stopped at the john to relieve himself, which was no small feat with a hard-on like his. When he resumed his place before his drink, Nikki was back in a lip lock with the tall, horny black man.

He should have taken her advice and left then, but he didn't. He didn't want to be lurking at his own villa, drowning in a cocktail of confusion and longing. And truth be told, he wanted to see what else might happen to her before she left the bar.

The shorter black man came up to the kissing couple and spoke, although Ed couldn't discern the words. Nikki started laughing and the taller black man smirked. Nikki led them once again to the dance floor but before the two men followed, the taller one offered his index finger to the shorter one, who sniffed it and smiled before grabbing his crotch in a show of enthusiasm.

Ed's cock, still hard and still beating to the same rhythm as his heart, lurched at the sight. The taller one was actually boasting about his conquest and sharing her scent with the other man. Ed wasn't much older than these guys, yet never in a million years would he have fingered a woman—no matter how slutty—in public and let another man sniff the residual juice on his hands. Nevertheless, the notion turned him on so much, he ordered another drink to help soften the hardness between his legs.

On the dance floor, an unknown black man was behind Nikki, dry humping her in time to a top 40 hit. A crowd had formed to cheer the couple (or just the man?) on. Nikki danced as best she could while the bald, 40-something man held her hips firmly against his crotch and made thrusting motions at her backside. He reached around her and grabbed her mons through her dress, clutching it while the crowd watched.

Ed's throat tightened. She wore no panties. At any moment, this man could expose her pussy to a roomful of inebriated partiers who just might decide that it looked good enough to fuck or eat or just play with. He should save Nikki now, while he still could. Before the mob descended.

And then the bald black man raised the hem of her dress by bunching up more of the fabric in his hand. The effect was a mesmerizing one—every head on the dance floor turned to stare at Nikki's pretty patch of pubic hair.

But Ed could not move.

"Holy shit. That bitch is gonna get banged tonight," said a voice behind him.

"Christ. Next they'll be lining up to lick her twat!"

Ed's hand slipped to his lap. No longer able to sit and just be aware of his erection, he now stroked it discreetly through his pants. Pre-come oozed freely and soaked his jockey shorts but he didn't care.

Some blonde joker closer to Nikki's age leaped up and landed on his knees before her. He took hold of her legs and put his nose to her crotch just before he extended an abnormally long tongue and wagged it at the spot where her pussy lips met.

Hoots and hollers egged the blonde man on. The bald black man continued to slam her from behind. Just seconds before the blonde's tongue made contact with her pussy, the tall black man yanked the man away from her, sending him sprawling stage left.

The show of force quieted the crowd somewhat and even had the effect of giving the bald man pause. The tall black man's message was clear: Nikki was free once again to be the free agent slut she'd been when she arrived—as long as she dedicated herself to the two black men she'd arranged to meet there.

The dancing resumed among the club's patrons and Nikki, wild-eyed and loose, threw her head back with some kind of liberation Ed didn't quite comprehend. He moved his hand away from his cock, especially now that the crowd's attention had shifted back to itself and away from Nikki. It was time to take Nikki's advice and return to the villa, but he needed to have less of a hard-on before he could move easily.

Eventually, Ed trudged back to the villa under a weight of conflicting emotions. He'd told Nikki he was ready for this, but after seeing her living out her slut fantasies and watching other men sample her publicly, he wasn't so sure.

But how could he possibly stop her now? She'd told him repeatedly that there was no turning back. Hadn't she just advised him that she wanted no more interruptions? He'd never be able to live with himself if he was responsible for choking this fantasy and not letting it evolve. Worse yet, he knew she might not be able to live with him, either.

He chastised himself for ever letting things get this far. He shouldn't have led her on when she broached the subject. Things were so much simpler when he ignored his fantasies and just kept his interests confined to what he found on the Internet.

His guilt was so heavy, his pace slowed. The same walk along the beach that had been filled with excitement a few hours ago was now full of trepidation and angst. And he had only himself to blame.

But he vowed to make the best of it. He'd get through this night no matter what he had to do to accomplish it. After tonight, the mystery behind their shared fantasy would be behind them and they could get back to normal.

He stopped in his tracks. What if this was the beginning of a lifetime of threesomes and foursomes and black men and public displays of his wife's private parts? Could he live with that? Could Nikki? And what if one of them could but the other one couldn't?

Oh, what had they done, he lamented as the villa came into view. What had they done and how would they ever get out of it?

It was just nearly 11:00 when Ed arrived at the villa.

As he and Nikki had planned, he staked himself out on the balcony so he could see her arrive along the beach path and then he'd have front row seats to the action that would take place in the living room. He eyed the plush, luxurious furniture—the rounded ottoman, the plump sofa cushions—and thought about how soiled all of it would get tonight.

That is, if Nikki went through with it.

He had to confess that, as he got up and went to the bar to fix himself a drink, he found himself hoping that she'd walk down that path alone. He secretly longed to see her saunter up the beach path, high-heeled sandals in hand, red dress a little worse for wear, with a weary look in her eyes. When he'd ask her why she was alone, she'd shake her head and ask, "What was I thinking? The only man I want is you."

Yes, he thought, as the ice clinked in his drink. That would be the ideal end to this story.

He took a long swig of his drink, the temperature and the bite of it making him blink. Images from the Sand Kicker Club came back to him in a streaming erotic montage, reminding him of his honeymoon pact with his wife. And suddenly, he didn't find his "ideal ending" so enticing, after all. Watching her with those men tonight had been as horrifying as it had been arousing. He hadn't wanted to watch yet couldn't get enough of what he saw. And he knew that if she came home alone tonight, he'd be horribly disappointed.

If he'd gotten as far with a woman as those two men had with Nikki in the bar, he wouldn't take no for an answer. He knew that men had their breaking points, that a woman could only push a man so far without the man needing to go all the way. It's just how men were made. Get the dick hard, keep it that way for hours, promise sex, and offer your wet pussy for sampling in a public place, and you'd damn well better be ready to get laid. Especially if you were dealing with young men. He assumed Nikki understood this. In fact, who would know it better than Nikki? But the idea of the men's arousal getting too big for her to handle frightened him a little. If for some reason, she did change her mind, could she get out of things at this point?

Maybe she, too, had a point of no return. Maybe that's what that unfamiliar look in her eyes had been all about. She was careening toward a denouement of such grand proportions, there was no turning back for her, either.

The tropical night air carried its usual promise of sensual delights. He propped up his legs on the rattan footstool that matched the chair and took a long breath. The ocean diffused all sound, but every so often, he'd hear a birdcall, or a woman's peal of laughter, or a man's drunken shout. He put a hand to his groin and rubbed absently. He could barely wait to be hard again at the sight of his wife acting not only like a single woman but a dirty, wanton whore. One with a mission, he grinned to himself.

He swallowed the rest of his drink. Yes, indeed, more than anything, he wanted to see how far she'd go with these guys. She'd said she wanted to indulge her own slut fantasies. What would those look like, Ed wondered? Would they be raunchier than his own? So eager was he to find out, his cock had already started to stiffen.

Where was she, anyway? He looked at his watch. Practically 11:30. He frowned and fixed himself another drink.

Nobody could see him on the balcony, particularly at night. At least, that's what he told himself as he rubbed his dick through his pants and felt the alcohol's tentacles throughout his brain. He was now ready for Nikki to come up that path with two black men in tow. Now.

But he got through his second drink without a sign of her.

Time for another refill.

His third drink gave him the courage to stroke his hard-on without the impediment of cloth. The humidity tickled his tip and made the shaft feel prickly. Nikki wasn't the only one feeling horny tonight, he thought to himself. He walked back to the wet bar with his dick leading the way when he got his fourth drink.

Fears about her safety battled hopes for her imminent arrival. Strange, he thought, to want her so thoroughly fucked but completely safe. Could both be possible? Of course, they could, he nodded as he gulped down more alcohol. But suddenly, the moonlit beach path seemed less romantic than it did foreboding. Anything could transpire on that path and nobody would witness it. It wasn't exactly desolate, but it could hardly be called well-traveled, either. He should have given her a whistle or a pager or something—anything to allow her to reach him in the event of trouble.

But he knew his Nikki. Even if she were tipsy or horny or both, she'd have her wits about her. She'd take care of herself. She seemed to want things to go a certain way, and from the iron will he'd seen her display with him earlier that day, he didn't doubt that she'd get her way. Worrying about her was a waste of time. Thinking about her full of cock was a better pursuit, he thought, smiling a crooked smile.

Halfway through the drink, still enjoying the stiffness of his rod in his palm, he heard her giggle in the distance and froze. No matter how drunk she was, she wouldn't be giggling if she were by herself. The men had to be with her.