The Lucky Lucky Man

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She did not mean to hurt him, but desperation changed her.
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We were on holiday. Where is not important, other than to say it was a beach front resort with all the luxuries for reasonably affluent types, white sands, azure blue seas, palm trees and coral reefs; an island paradise.

Despite the "exclusive resort" tag with a security patrol presence, the supposedly private section of beach was still infiltrated by the "lucky lucky men." That's what we know them as, you may call them something else. They are the guys, usually black Africans, who walk up and down the beach trying to sell you anything from wraps and shades, to dodgy DVDs and watches, and all things in between.

These guys can smell new blood a mile away, and after only being on the beach for half an hour, just after our arrival at the resort, one of these guys appeared at my wife's side.

Sally, my wife, was lay on one of those swing beds, where the pool area merged in to the beach, with the sea a matter of metres away. I was on a lounger a few feet from her.

She looked hot in her little bikini. Her tits straining the upper section, much of them on view, with only the areola and nipples covered by small triangles of cloth.

Likewise, two further triangular shaped pieces of cloth clung to her pussy - with a hint of camel toe I noted - and her beautifully pert arse; held together by strips of material tied in a bow at the hip.

She had her eyes closed, letting the sun wash over her skin, making her shapely body shimmer from the oils she had applied to herself.

The guy approached her carrying a brief case of assorted merchandise - or cheap tacky shite in any other language. He made her jump when he spoke. She hadn't seen him approach, or hear him approach, because of the waves breaking on the beach making more noise than his bare feet on the sand.

"Hey beautiful lady...you want to buy shades"?

After recovering from the surprise, she adjusted her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. "No thanks, already got some as you can see".

"Ah but lady, these very, very good. Ray Bans. (Yeah right I thought.)

"Thanks I will stick with these".

"Where you from pretty lady?

"England."

"Yes, but from where?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know it, it's a little village in the south of England, it's not a big town."

"So how about a watch, or DVDs?"

"No, I am good thanks, I don't need anything right now."

"Will you be doing water sports or trips while you're here?"

"Probably some of the water sports, maybe a boat trip."

"Well, then, you come and see me, don't book through the hotel, they rip you off, I have good friends further down the beach, they are cheaper."

He gave her a bloody business card! Unreal.

"That's me, Joshua. You need a trip or want to go diving or snorkelling then come and see me. I have a beach hut further around the bay. Or you can call me on the number on the card."

I was just about to get up then and intervene, to tell him to do one, but he had already spied a security guard approaching from the pool area, and was backing away slowly.

"Joshua...don't forget...best prices, best trips."

"What's your name pretty lady?"

For some reason she told him. "Sally" she replied and then waved, because he had waved at her before turning and jogging off along the beach.

I stood by her swing bed. "Fucking pains in the arse they are, I booked this resort to avoid all that crap you get on a public beach. If it carries on I am going to complain to the hotel."

My wife is not as grumpy as me. A people person, a bit naive and a bit to open hearted, gullible even; always seeing the best in people.

"Oh its alright, he's just trying to make a living, he means no harm and if we can save a few quid using him to book stuff then why not. It's already cost a fortune to get here."

"Are you nuts?"

She looked at me sternly.

"What? I am not just going to trust some guy who wanders over to you on the beach to arrange some trip or excursion. We could be mugged or worse."

"Don't be so bloody paranoid, not everyones bad. And what? They're going to murder us for our flip flops are they?"

"I wasn't meaning they were going to kill us, but you know, other stuff, especially where you're concerned."

"I don't understand".

"Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you? They might, you know, try and take advantage of you if we're in an isolated situation. You're a sexy woman, who will be wearing next to nothing, like now. If we went snorkelling on some strangers boat with his mates, well who knows what could happen."

"Behave, you really think they would molest me and try it on, with you there?"

"Oh for fucks sake Sally you are so naive, it's not unheard of you know, women being sexually assaulted or even raped, husband or not. Why put yourself at risk for the sake of a few more quid to use the official tours?"

"Well, I think you have the problem, the guy seemed genuine enough to me, he's just trying to get by, and I think it's nice to mix with the locals, and experience the place properly. You and your suspicious of everyone and everything attitude, it spoils things sometimes you know."

"Someone has to look out for you". I sat back down in a huff.

She eased off the swing bed, and made her way to the pool-side showers. She shivered as the cold water hit her skin, her nipples grew hard and poked through the cloth I noticed; even from my vantage point some distance from the shower they were clearly visible.

As most men seem to do in such situations, they glance around the pool to see if any other guy is ogling his wife. I mean a beautiful, sexy woman with curves in all the right places, wearing very little and taking a cold shower is a massive draw to any red blooded male, right?

I clocked at least half a dozen, some trying to be nonchalant about it, others hiding behind their sunglasses, but definitely looking, and others just blatantly staring. I knew what was going through all their minds, as it was definitely going through mine.

She strode back to the swing bed, majestically like a giraffe, slow and languid and smooth. Her camel toe was even more prominent now as the water made the triangular piece of cloth adhere to her skin more. And I knew that pussy was shaved.

My cock was beginning to tent my shorts, and I had to hide my hard-on with my t-shirt.

She reached the swing bed, and instead of mounting it lady-like, you know sit down on it, knees together, then swing both legs on to the bed, she clambered on facing forward, first one leg raised placing her knee on to the mattress and then the other, before crawling a few paces and then turning and sitting, and then ultimately lying down on her back.

As she mounted the bed, I had a perfect view of the slot of her pussy, just about covered by a very thin ridge of material. Her labia was indented in the gossamer cloth, a thin crease marking the entrance to her pussy. I was not the only one who had that view I noticed, as a number of blokes were now covering their cocks with items of their own.

A couple of days later.

She had just been for a swim in the pool. Multiple male eyes had followed her every move.

She wore another bikini, similarly scant of material, and was positioning a towel on a lounger on the beach when I noticed the same "lucky lucky" guy from the other day approach her.

I couldn't hear them speak, but he was there a while; I am sure she prolonged the conversation just to make a point.

He was crouched by the side of the lounger towards her feet, looking back toward her, and I noticed every so often that he would tap her leg, or reach up and grab her hand as if trying to draw her up off the lounger.

I stood up and began to wander over. He started to leave before I reached them.

"What was that about?"

"What? Oh, he was just trying to sell me stuff again, asking if I had decided on any trips or activities yet, said I should come down to his beach hut so he could show me more details and pictures of his friends tours and stuff. He said I would be amazed by what was on offer." (Yeah, I bet she would, I thought to myself.)

"So that's why he was pawing you was it?"

"Pawing me? Oh, you mean grabbing my hand? Oh that was nothing, he was just being playfully pushy; you know trying to get me to go with him to show me the info like I said, but I told him not now, maybe later."

"No, not fucking ever will you go anywhere with him". I said this a bit forcefully, for some reason feeing threatened by him.

"Oh for gods sake Kyle, will you ever let it drop. He's just a friendly local. OK, a bit pushy maybe, but show me a "lucky lucky" guy who isn't. Doesn't mean he's trying to get in my bikini".

The day after.

We had circled around each other the night before. I couldn't help feeling uneasy about the guy, I was concerned that she didn't see the possible dangers, or maybe it was something else bothering me. I just knew I was really pissed and uneasy all evening.

The mood lasted in to the following morning. We were back at the edge of the pool, close to the beach. Our designated usual spot.

I hadn't slept well, fretting over our tiff and why she couldn't see how naive she was being. As we weren't really speaking to each other, maintaining a frosty status quo, I became bored, and then drowsy as I lay in the sun, and before I knew it had drifted in to a sleep on the lounger.

I therefore didn't see Sally decide to go for a walk along the beach, and stroll off in the direction of the other side of the bay, where Mr. Lucky Lucky had his beach hut.

About an hour later I was roused by one of the hotel staff, concerned I would get sun stroke lying out sleeping in the sun without sunscreen.

I stood unsteadily and stepped under the cold shower to shock me awake, then looked around for Sally. I couldn't see her anywhere.

I figured she may have gone back to the room so headed there in search of her. The room was actually a small apartment type building, with a ground floor patio to the beach, accessible from double glazed sliding doors to the main living space and bedroom.

She wasn't there. I began to feel panicked. Wondered where the fuck she was.

I searched around looking for her "stuff" like the beach bag she always carries with her; with oils and other essentials in it. There was no sign of it, which meant she had not come back to the room.

I didn't know what my next move was for a while, but then tried to rationalise the situation. It was more or less lunch time. I bet she had left me to sleep off my mood and go for something to eat. When she came back to the loungers, she would see I wasn't there and come to the room. Or I could go back to the loungers and wait.

Then I got all indignant. Fuck her. I'm not playing her stupid games, she would have to come back to the room to find me.

Ten minutes later she stepped in to the room.

She looked flushed, and oddly sullen and could not meet my eye. Guilt. She could not hide it, she had guilt written all over her face.

I got a sick feeling in my stomach, I knew something was wrong.

"What's happened? Where have you been? I wondered where the fuck you were."

She burst in to tears. "Oh my god Kyle, I am so sorry...I don't know what came over me...I...I...oh shit, I'm sorry please forgive me."

My hairs were stood on end all over my body. I was dreading her answer to my next question. Hoping I was wrong.

"What happened? Are you saying Joshua fucked you? Did he force you, rape you?" I balled my hands in to fists.

"No...I didn't fuck him, and he didn't hurt me...or force me...(she was sobbing now, her words breathy and pained) ...I almost did, I just ...I just couldn't resist. I have no idea why, but I...just felt powerless to stop myself up until he was about to take me, then I knew I couldn't let him, because of the consequences."

"So to be clear, you did not fuck him".

"No...but I...oh god, I wanted to. I...er...did other things, but no I didn't fuck him".

Jealousy and rage ripped through me, along with a million other emotions; betrayal, angst, panic, fear and surprisingly, chief among them, arousal.

"Tell me. Fucking tell me now, and I want to hear it all, don't you fucking dare hide anything. "

She calmed herself first so she could talk without the sobbing.

"You fell asleep. I was bored, and still a little angry with you from the day before. I decided to go for a walk. I honestly set off without any thought of going to see Joshua, but I realised after 10 minutes or so that I was walking in his direction; to where he said his hut was."

"Then I thought to myself, I would go and see him and show you that you were being stupid and that he was OK. I was determined to book some trip or activity with him and come back to you and show you that if I could go there alone and come back with a trip booked, unscathed, then he was unlikely to take advantage of me when I was with you. That he was on the level. I wanted to prove a point to you."

"So what went wrong".

"I saw him, a few hundred yards away, he had just been for a swim and was wading out of the sea and he saw me and jogged down the beach to meet me. I have to be honest and say that not for the first time, his muscular body, washboard abs, tree trunk thighs and...and...his cock, swinging side to side in his shorts as he ran toward me, made me wet. He is a hot looking guy and I found him attractive when I first spoke to him on the swing, but I had no intention of doing anything, he was just eye candy, then".

"So all the time you were protesting his innocence and his motives when we argued, you actually liked the idea of being molested by the guy, and possibly his mates to?"

"When you mentioned it, you know that they might take advantage of me, it didn't scare me or shock me, it had the opposite effect - I found the thought highly erotic. Maybe on a subconscious level that's why I set off in that direction along the beach, maybe deep down the danger and thrill of Joshua and his friends wanting me was pushing my buttons. Maybe my psyche was hoping to see him when I set off. I don't know, I just can't explain it really, all I can promise you is that I did not set of on my walk with thoughts of being unfaithful to you."

"He asked me why I was there and I told him I wanted to see what trips he had, and if I liked them, I would book one."

"He took my hand and led me towards his beach hut, which had pictures and prices of trips on the outside."

"We stood outside the hut while he showed me various photos in albums, and talked me through the options. I noticed that his patter had changed from calling me "pretty lady" to "sexy lady".

"I was still quite stern with him then, and told him I was here to do business with him and it was inappropriate for him to refer to me that way."

"He apologised for any offence, but added that his mother had brought him up to be honest and truthful, and that I was a very beautiful, sexy woman so he was just speaking the truth. I felt a little flustered by this comment, like some soppy school kid. And I knew you were right then, that he wanted me. The thought made me feel light headed".

"Because of that realisation, I...I somehow became more aware of him, as he stood beside me showing me photos, and talking me through what I was looking at. He smelt of the sea, having just been for a swim, but also of man...you know that earthy, testosterone scent of a man, not drowned in aftershave or deodorant; natural man. I found it hard to concentrate on what he was showing me and saying, as I became more absorbed by his presence."

"Before I knew what was happening I found myself being led by the hand inside his hut. I paused before I stepped inside and he assured me it was ok, that he wanted to show me something amazing. That I would appreciate it."

"I was in a daze now, I honestly can't explain it, but I was just unbelievably aroused; it's a cliche, but there was an electricity or expectation in the air and I just knew things were going to escalate."

"He turned to face me, and without a word he pulled the string cord on his shorts to release the knot below his naval. He put his thumbs inside the shorts at each hip, and then pushed them down to his ankles, revealing the most fantastic cock I have ever seen. It was as he promised...just amazing."

"The next thing I knew, I was reaching for it. I mean, it...it was inexplicable, it was like I was in a trance...he hadn't touched me, but I was about to molest him. I was like a moth drawn to a bright light, it was like an out of body experience. Before I knew it, my fingertips were touching the top of his cock, the hilt; the skin was so soft, and smooth, and despite his swim in the sea it was warm. It was not shrivelled either, like most cocks that have been in cold water. My fingers gently traced along his impressive shaft to the tip and when I reached the end, my hand automatically encircled his dick and began to stroke, and tug it softly."

"It started to swell, and grow in my hand. Oh god Kyle it was fucking huge, as it thickened I noticed my fingers did not meet up when I gripped his cock. I tugged his dick until it was rock-fucking hard."

"I was pulling him off, when he asked if I wanted to taste it, then he told me to put it in his mouth and suck him. I just obeyed. Again I have no way to explain this, I just fucking obeyed. I dropped to my knees and came face to face with his massive cock and took the tip in to my mouth. He tasted salty."

"I was shaking now. It was like I was hyperventilating, my breath was laboured as I realised I had crossed the line, and contemplated the obvious next step. I knew he would expect to fuck me. And the thought of his huge black rod entering my cunt made me so fucking wet."

The tears began to flow down her cheeks again, and I couldn't be certain if it was because of what she had done already, or what she wanted to do but hadn't.

I pushed her for the conclusion of why she hadn't let him fuck her.

"Well, I was sucking his cock, taking more and more every time it passed between my lips, when he placed his hands on either side of my head and began to lift me up to face him. He spun me around, and pinned me to the wall of his hut, before unfastening the bows on either side of my bikini briefs so they fell to the floor. His thick, throbbing cock was pressed hard between my buttocks. He slid it up and down the cleft of my arse slowly, preempting the point at which he would position his bell-end at my opening and enter me. But before he could, I came to my senses. I knew I could not let him fuck me, because I am not on contraception. I had a massive feeling of guilt about almost cheating on you and taking this guy bareback - and weirdly because I was mostly angry. I did not want for you to be right. I refused for you to be right. You had warned me about what was likely to happen, and I scoffed at you, even though the idea of it turned me on, and yet here I was with a huge cock between my buttocks on the cusp of being fucked, having already given him a hand and blow job. I did not want you to win. I did not want you to gloat and say I told you so. And I could not risk unprotected sex. So I wriggled free of him, put on my bikini bottoms and ran down the beach."

She looked down now, sobbing, struggling to get her words out.

"But...whether...I...went through...with..it..or not...I lose...you were right...because I did things I should not have, and all he wanted to do in the end was to fuck me. You were right...and I am so sorry."

"But you're not really, because you desperately wanted him to fuck you too didn't you. And you still do, don't you." She nodded slowly, head bowed staring at her feet.

As she raised her head back up to look at me, she caught sight of my shorts. More to the point she caught sight of my hard-on, bulging in the shorts.