Authors note : To allow for longer chapters as requested I have edited several chapters into one here.



Two more days had passed in paradise for the couple and nothing further had been mentioned between them about "the fantasy" as it has now come to be called. There was no tension or avoidance on either one of there parts it was simply as if the matter was of such little importance that it wasn't being considered. In their minds both Ed and Nikki did consider the matter "settled". for Ed is was always to be a fantasy although inside his feelings betrayed him. For Nikki it was a possibility to be filed away for the distant future when Ed might have come around to a more open way of viewing things without the fear that obviously gripped him.

Restlessness rolled off the ocean that morning. The sun squatted over the island, as if to watch all the better what it might inspire. Nikki had prepared Mimosas for Ed and herself, and as the two of them sat on the terrace, quietly sipping their bubbly drinks, their bodies succumbed to the wonderful tropical lethargy that tourists travel great distances to feel.

Nikki wore a white pareo that revealed one long, tanned leg as she lounged in her chaise. It was when she paired it with that skimpy white bikini top that Ed suspected his drink wouldn't be all that was stirred that day.

Despite her outfit, however, she stayed unusually quiet for a good fifteen minutes or so, which prevented Ed from relaxing but gave him the opportunity to glance often at her beautiful profile. She seemed quite at peace, in fact. The unresolved issue of their shared fantasy sat between them, however, and try as he might, he couldn't forget about it, regardless of the Mimosa's disorienting effects.

"These are delicious, sweetheart. Thank you," he finally said.

She turned her head in his direction and grinned. "You're welcome. It's nice to wait on you every once in while."

"But you don't want to spoil me," he teased.

"I'm glad you understand." She faced the sky again and smiled. "It wouldn't be prudent so soon in the marriage."

"Do you mind if we talk more about our little fantasy game?" he asked, knowing that she might not be in the right state of mind but betting that he could get her there quick enough.

"Not at all." This time she didn't look at him, but there was no chill in her voice, so Ed felt confident enough to proceed.

"Can you tell me, purely from your side of things and with total honestly would you prefer if we planned to actually do something about it or do you want to keep it a fantasy just for us as I mentioned the other day?"

She brought up the back of her chaise so that she sat upright. Then she let her eyes meet Ed's. "Well, I don't think I can answer for both of us. Can you?"

"You know what I mean.I'm talking about how YOU feel"

"All I'm saying, Ed, is that I can only tell you how I'm feeling, not what I think we should do. When our feelings match, we'll know what we should do as a team."

"So, then, how are you feeling?"

"I'm more than willing to make it happen. That episode the other day at the pool pushed me closer and it was exciting for me but worried me when I noticed your reaction. I don't have to do it, but I'm more interested in following through one day. Only if you feel the same way, though. And only if I was totally completely sure that you were one hundred percent in favor of it. Otherwise, I'm not interested at all."

He hesitated. "You're not sure I can handle it?"

"I don't know you didn't the other day and I understand completely. You're the only one who knows. And when you're sure, I trust you'll tell me one day and then we'll go forward."

Was she challenging him? No, that wasn't her nature. Still... Leaving the ball in his court made him responsible for serving it next. I've said

"I'm actually closer than I was too, I know I did say I didn't want it to be anything more then a fantasy but now I'm not so sure" he told her truthfully. "But I'll know soon enough, I think."

"Just let me know, I can live with whatever you decide" she said, smiling and winking at him just before she got up to freshen her drink. **********

A breakfast of Mimosas did not prove to be one of champions. Consequently, Ed awoke from a long midday nap to discover that he'd missed a good chunk of the day. He also discovered a note from Nikki under the now-empty pitcher. It said "Gone down to the pool. Maybe I'll meet some new friends!"

All remaining vestiges of sleep left him instantly. He changed his clothes quickly as his pulse raced. Was he already too late? And if so, too late for what?

He considered polishing off the bottle of champagne—there was still a glass or so remaining—but decided he needed to have all of his wits about him. Whatever strength he'd muster would have to come from some inner reservoir, not an external, alcoholic source.

He deliberately forced himself not to sprint toward the main pool. He'd learned through experience that internal calm could be achieved merely by fashioning the appearance of it. Just as the brain could be tricked into temporary happiness by forcing a smile, so, too, could composure be conveyed by pretending to have it. He concentrated on this private little deception as he sauntered to the pool and though it slowed his gait, it did little for his heartbeat.

Baseball legend Yogi Berra would have said that it was "deja vu all over again." Nikki frolicked in the pool as she had the day before, in her indecent white bikini and affable smile. Splashing and swimming with her were the same two black men who'd been feeling her up on the beach. Nikki made no pretense about flirting with them—laughing and slithering around them under water—and they didn't hide their enjoyment. Ed was both frustrated and grateful that he couldn't see their hard-ons from his vantage point.

Because the pool was public, not a lot of physical contact was made among them. Nikki the Mermaid spotted Ed as she circled her victims (rather more like a shark than a mermaid, Ed thought wryly) and said something to them before she exited the pool. Ed didn't approach her; he stayed near the bar in a nonchalant pose, as if waiting to meet someone for a drink. Nikki was beside him in seconds, using a towel to mop up her dripping hair. She said nothing until she was inches before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"You look like your thinking about something?" He stared at her not wanting to answer "Well?" She finally asked softly.

He knew what she meant. She wanted permission.

Now that she stood before him and he felt the way her body heat burned off the droplets of chlorinated water from her skin, he realized that his erection was publicly betraying him once again. He liked the situation—the gleam in her eye, the palpable expectations of the men in the pool, the promise of his wife as a total slut. He liked it more than he ever imagined he could.

He still couldn't bring himself to actually utter a word so he nodded at her.

Her face broke into an animated smile as she took his hand. "Good! Because they want me to meet them at the Sand Kicker Club tonight after dinner."

Her proclamation took him by surprise. She noticed it, and suggested they return to the villa for further discussion. He held her hand to keep a steady pace—his mental shenanigans for looking calm were not as reliable as they'd been earlier.

She fixed him a drink as he wandered out to the terrace. She appeared at the door, holding his drink.

"Sunshine might not be the best thing right now," she said. "Let's talk inside."

He joined her in the relative cool of the villa's living room and sat in the nearest plush chair. She handed him the glass and sat across from him, without a drink.

"Are you really, truly ready for me to do this? Is it really what you want?" she asked him.

It was rare for Nikki to take such control. Normally, her methods were more circumspect, less blatant. Bold displays of strength were not her usual strategy, yet Ed found himself impressed by her demeanor as she addressed him. Was he relieved to be able to give up the leadership role, however briefly?

"I don't know, but I really think so Nikki."

She inhaled slowly, deeply. Was she growing impatient with him?

"You know that I love you. Don't you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I mean really. Do you know it without any question?'

"Yes, I do."

Her eyes practically pierced him with their intensity. He'd never seen her this focused or determined.

"And you are okay with going to that nightclub tonight? Of seeing me behave in a way you've never seen before?"

He hesitated. She stared at him, as if to extract his acquiescence through pure will.

"I think so. Yes."

"I have to know, because I'm telling you, Ed, once we leave here and go into that nightclub, our fantasy is going to happen. Tonight."

He nodded again and just watched her, captivated and thrilled by this dominant streak.

"It's now or never," she said. "I'm ready for this to happen and once it's in motion, there's no going back. I've made the plans with those two guys and everything will be ruined if you change your mind and interrupt me. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so," he said, unable to keep some sarcasm out of his voice.

"But there's something else." She took a deep breath. "No matter what happens tonight—and really, anything could, trust me—you can't let it come between us. Whatever you see me do with those guys has nothing to do with what you and I have. I love you more than anybody else in this world and if I were to put that in jeopardy just for a stupid fantasy, I'd never be able to live with myself."

Her eyes were bright with tears. He moved to her and put his arms around her. "Nikki, what we have could never be damaged. I love you too much. Your happiness is what I live for," he said into her still damp hair.

"So you trust me, then? You understand that my actions won't have anything to do with my commitment to you?" She said pulling away from his embrace and sniffling like a little girl. "If you don't trust me, then we should just forget it."

He didn't have to stop and think about his response. "I trust you, Nikki. Always have. Always will. And if I said no to this, I would always wonder what might have been. Promise me you won't let what happens tonight affect your love for me, either," he said, a sheepish look on his face, "no matter how great those guys are."

"They could never be that great," she assured him, smiling.

He watched her prepare for her night out. Dread, glee, trepidation, and arousal surged through him as he saw her choose clothing designed not to impress or excite him but to lure and titillate two black men. Two black men who would most certainly end up with carnal knowledge of her before the sun came up. As she held up a red dress with fringe at the hemline and glitter over her nipples, she looked from it to her husband, cocking her head.

"Did you mean what you said last night about your fantasies of me as a total slut?"

He felt warmth rise up past his eyebrows. He had regretted saying that the moment it was out of his mouth, yet it was, without question, how he imagined her in his repressed fantasies. "Yes."

She stripped for his benefit and walked over to where he sat on the edge of the bed. "I've got some pretty wild fantasies about that myself," she said, sitting on his lap. Tiny white patches around her nipples and pubis indicated the limited areas that hadn't seen sunlight. They matched the outline of her white bikini. Ed slid his hands along her firm thighs and taut stomach before filling them with her breasts. The thought of other men helping themselves to this beauty made him slightly nauseous but exceptionally hard. "Swear that no matter what I do with these guys tonight, you'll still love me," she said, kissing his nose and forehead.

"I thought we agreed on that already," he replied, suddenly more than a little irritated by the prospect of Nikki behaving like a slut, possibly even in public.

"We did but I just want to make sure. I might do things tonight that shock you, but remember that it's my fantasy, too, okay?"

He feared that if they didn't head off to the nightclub soon, he'd be too hard to put one leg in front of the other. "I'm fine, Nik. Don't you think we should get going?"

She agreed, stood up, and wiggled into the femme fatale dress without even putting on any panties. He said nothing, noting silently that a slut would never bother with panties.

At the threshold, Nikki paused and shot a final look at Ed. "This is your last chance. When we leave this villa, there will be no going back. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ed found that he was tired of answering the question. His response was to cross the threshold and head out into the night to the sound of her tinkling laughter behind him.

*****"I'm thinking we shouldn't let on that we're together," she said as they walked toward the Sand Kicker Club. "When the time is right, I'll give you a signal so you'll know we're going to the villa."

He hadn't considered where the main event would occur, but hosting it at the villa was a jarring idea. Yet, where else? Her safety was assured at the villa, where he could watch if he wanted to. And naturally, he wanted to.

"Ed? Did you hear what I said?" She asked. As they walked along the beach, she swung her strappy high heels in one hand.

"Sorry. Yes. I heard you. A signal, you said. What kind of signal?"

"Hmmm," she said, pursing her lips in thought. "It has to be something I won't do by mistake. Let's see... I know! I'll yawn."

He tried not to frown. It was both endearing and annoying that she never expected to be bored with these gentlemen she planned to fuck. "Okay. And when I see the yawn, what do I do?"

"You should go to the villa and wait for me because it means I'm about to leave the club. Use the terrace stairs so you can watch from the top balcony without being seen."

"Have you thought about this long?" He asked her, amazed at the level of detail in her plan.

"No, not really. It just seems like the best way to handle it," she said, shrugging.

"I'm fine with it, but suppose I want to talk to you at the club? Can't I do that?" He didn't like being denied access to his own wife.

"Well, okay, if you think it's necessary."

"Nikki!"

"Oh, all right," she said with a giggle. "We can meet at the restrooms. Now we have to think up another signal, though."

"Can't I just wave to you?"

"Of course not! That'll blow your cover. And mine."

Now it was his turn to laugh. He felt like a secret agent. "How about if I pick my nose?"

"Be serious."

"I'll pretend to be using my cell phone."

"Oh, that's good! That will work fine." She nodded enthusiastically and swung her shoes a little more.

He could see the club's sign now. His legs moved as if they were filled with jelly. Meanwhile, Nikki's posture resembled a swan's and her step had a new spring in it. Why wasn't she nervous? After all, she was the one who'd be exposing herself to potential physical harm that night. At the realization of this, Ed felt like he'd been punched in the gut. His flinch caught her attention but instead of asking him how he felt or reaffirming his desire to go through with things, she turned away and focused again on the entrance to the club. She was a woman with a mission and she had no time or patience for Ed's second thoughts. Nevertheless, he drew her attention to his misgivings.

"You don't seem to have any doubts about all this, even though a lot could go wrong," he said to her.

"Don't do this, Ed. You said you were ready. You said you understood there was no going back." Dark shadows lurked in her eyes.

He nodded and stopped in front of the club. "Yes, you're right. I won't bring it up again."

"Good," she said, relief overtaking the stern, determined look in her eye. "You're going to see a new woman tonight. It might frighten you, but never forget that I love you. Just relax and enjoy the show." It was a point at which she should have given him a hug or kiss of reassurance, but she paused, as if to consider whether she should be part of such a public display of affection. Fortunately, love conquered mystery and she blurted, "Kiss me and tell me you love me!"

As they kissed, he savored the warmth of her lips one last time. "Ready?" he asked when he sensed she was ready to begin the night's revels.

She nodded and they entered the club.

Nikki headed for the dance floor and Ed made his way toward the bar. Even as early as eight o'clock in the evening, the place pulsed with rhythms both musical and biological. Despite the air conditioning, most patrons, particularly the women, wore very little and so the club was a sea of uncovered limbs and tanned, taut skin. Eyes sparkled and laughter rang out everywhere Ed turned.

The two black men lurked near the periphery of the dance floor and came to life when they saw Nikki arrive. She hurried toward them, embracing them much too warmly for Ed's taste. Considering that they'd already fondled her tits and had their tongues down her throat just yesterday, however, he forgave the greeting. Nikki shot him one last, naughty look before she kissed each man with a long, open-mouthed kiss that shocked even onlookers. Exchanging a kiss like that with one man wouldn't have attracted much attention, but giving equal enthusiasm to two different men marked her indelibly: she was a certified slut.

They insisted on buying her a drink, not knowing that inebriation wasn't necessary. She played along, though, and smiled sweetly as they each bought her a tall drink, one with a colorful plastic fish cresting out of the top of it, the other with a playful monkey waving over the rim. Ed watched them, pushing back the envy he felt for their youth and high spirits. They had no idea what kind of evening lay ahead of them, but one thing was certain—they'd never forget it.

The two black men beamed as if it were their wedding day and Nikki had agreed to marry them both. Ed knew the rush of adrenaline behind smiles like theirs. He understood the unrestrained hope and boundless fantasies that had undoubtedly filled their heads since Nikki agreed to meet them here tonight. He was all too aware of what it was like to have a beautiful creature like Nikki not only give you the time of day but let you kiss her, touch her, and promise you more.

But neither this knowledge nor the empathy it invoked prevented Ed from wanting to beat the crap out of both of them.

He was about 20 feet away from the threesome, close enough to see the gleam of eyes, the flash of white teeth, and the flush of cheeks (in Nikki's case). Everything either man said to her seemed to require a caress of some kind from them. She'd throw back her head in laughter, and a man would stroke her bare arm. She'd tilt her head in coquettish inquiry and a man would run his fingertips along her neck. Nikki drank from one tall glass, then the other, dividing her attentions between drinks and men with great equality.

Finally, after all the preamble and high-school flirtation, one of the men motioned toward the dance floor. The other nodded eagerly. Nikki downed the remaining liquid in her two glasses, glanced briefly at Ed, and led the way to the dance floor. Neither man had any compunction at all about watching her ass sway as she walked.

Ed had seen Nikki flirt with men on the dance floor before, back before they were married. He'd been surprised by her forwardness but always knew that she'd be going home with him. Tonight was different. Every tilt of her head was an invitation. Every shimmy of her shoulders implied pleasures beyond the dance floor. And she knew that she'd be leaving with two black men who were not and never would be married to her.
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.
And they were. They flanked her and she had an arm wrapped around each of them. When they were still on the beach but close enough to the villa for Ed to see them, he had to stifle his outcry at her appearance. Her red dress had been torn open to her navel. In a lame attempt at either decency or shock value, each man spread a big black palm over one exposed breast. As the threesome approached, he saw that their intent was not so much to cover her but to handle her tits.

Who had ripped her dress like that? Had she been in a scuffle of some kind? Was she all right? Her laughter rang out again, as if to confirm that she was. The drinks Ed had imbibed that night had anesthetized him well but he was still conscious enough to wonder who might have seen her walking about with her tits hanging out—or in the hands of two oversexed black men. He put the thought aside. Who knew them here, anyway?

She was certainly wrung out and more than a little drunk. She reminded him of the young women in those "girls gone wild" tapes that were so popular. Young, fresh women whose sexual appetites got the best of them in the face of mixed drinks and male encouragement. Nikki's hair hung down straight—none of the sections she'd pinned up earlier in the evening were where she'd put them. He was too far away to see what state of disrepair her makeup was in, but he didn't expect it was good.

The three lingered in the moonlight. She moved her arms from around their waists and cupped each ballsac with an eager hand, smiling throughout. The men responded by bringing their mouths to her breasts and while they sucked her tits, she squeezed their packages. With comical urgency, both men struggled to unzip themselves so that her touch wouldn't be wasted on their pants. Their black cocks came bobbing out of their pants seconds later and Nikki clutched them in her hands right away. She worked them both up and down while they sucked her tits. Ed got up to stand at the edge of the balcony just as she looked up and gave him a wicked smile. He waved half-heartedly, forgetting that his cock pointed directly at her over the railing. Just as he was about to motion for her to hurry inside, she closed her eyes and let her head drop backwards to enjoy what the men were doing to her. Ed returned to his chair, far more alert than he'd been prior to her arrival.

He heard her say something to them but he couldn't make out the words. It must have been an instruction because next, the men lifted her under her thighs so she sat in their hands. Abandoning her breasts, they focused now on spreading her legs and helping themselves to the wet cream at her center. The moonlight shined on the scene and specifically, on her wide-open snatch. She slipped backward somewhat on her perch, which just spread her thighs wider. All three were laughing as she squirmed helplessly and their fingers explored her pussy. She squealed as if they were just tickling her tummy or running a feather over her throat. This level of playfulness had obviously been going on all night, Ed observed. The threesome seemed inordinately at ease with one another.

Finally, they carried her to the front door and entered the villa. Ed heard movement and voices inside but couldn't quite bring himself to look into the living room just yet. Although he was hard as a rock, despite all the alcohol in his bloodstream, he wasn't fully prepared to watch his wife get handled by two extremely horny black men. And he knew they had to be hornier than any man could stand at this stage of the game—Nikki's charms had been at their fingertips for hours.

But her giggling wafted through the opening Ed had left in the sliding glass door and the more he tried not to listen, the more intrigued he became. It had only been a few minutes since they'd entered the villa. He heard glasses tinkling and ice crashing against itself but what else might be happening?

When sounds of movement subsided, his curiosity got the best of him. He had to see what they were up to.

Just as Ed peered inside, Mr. Tall ripped open her dress completely, which she seemed to find delightful, even though Ed knew she'd undoubtedly spent several hundred dollars on it. It fell to the floor, revealing her naked body, still riveting regardless of how much of it had already been exposed throughout the evening. Her nipples looked darker than usual and a thin film of sweat coated her body. She wasn't panting but Ed saw that her breathing was erratic. The glimmer in her eyes bordered on maniacal. The two men and Ed stared at her, thinking only one thought: what did she plan to do next?

They all stood for a moment, as if now that they were finally alone, they weren't sure how to proceed. Ed snorted silently as he considered how superfluous foreplay seemed at the moment. What did one do with a slut who'd already allowed more liberties than most men got from their own wives?

Nikki made things easier for them by grinning widely then bending over to give them—and Ed—a premium view of her upturned ass. It was an unexpected yet typically Nikki thing to do and it made Ed grin. She spread her legs to give her audience a peak at her very wet, very pink labia, swollen from hours of excitement. She looked like a centerfold in a men's magazine as she looked over her shoulder and winked. Although her pubic hair was slightly askew and somewhat matted—from the endless hours of moisture and handling—she looked as delectable as she would have if she'd stepped right out of the shower. Ed found himself wishing he were close enough to catch a whiff of her aroma, because he felt certain that her scent was stronger than usual by now. Another sign that Nikki the predatory beast needed to be fed.

"Here's a perspective you guys haven't seen tonight. My dripping wet pussy!"

And when her fingers went to her creaming hole and disappeared inside, the men scrambled out of their clothes. Ed finally shifted his focus from his sexually charged wife to her adoring fans, and noticed that neither man possessed the legendary big black dick he'd been expecting. He almost chuckled at his disappointment, a disappointment that was combined with validation that his own cock was nothing to sneeze at—it was no smaller than theirs. He saw the fleeting look of disillusionment on Nikki's face as she took stock of what awaited her. Obviously, she'd had the same expectation he had.

The young men's virility was not in question, however. Any woman would have been pleased to see cocks like theirs. Any woman would be eager to impale herself on one, which is what he hoped to see Nikki do as soon as humanly possible.

"Oh, my god, I'm so wet, I can't even believe it myself," Nikki continued as her finger slid in and out of her hole and stroked her shiny lips. "Did you know I've been this wet since you finger-fucked me in the bar?"

Neither man said anything but lots of stroking was going on, both inside the villa and on the balcony. Ed desperately wanted a hand or a face or a cock to find its way to her pussy. Nothing that succulent should be ignored, he thought to himself.

"Are you guys going to watch me fuck myself all night or are you going to stuff some meat up my cunt?"

Ed had never heard her talk so graphically. She had been known to spice up their lovemaking with sexy outbursts now and then, but this ... This display was something new. It made her seem even sluttier than she looked. Did she plan to keep it up or was it her way of getting the ball rolling?

Mr. Tall, the alpha male, got behind her right away, blocking Ed's view. Ed repositioned himself quickly to watch the ebony girth of the man's prick work its way into her slit. Her pussy lips were so slick, they parted easily for him—he was inside her very quickly. The look on his face implied roughness but he was surprisingly gentle as he pushed himself inside her. He even appeared to be surprised that her wetness sucked him up so swiftly. He pulled out slightly and seemed to want to try again, more slowly this time. But her ravenous twat wasn't having any of it. It wasn't in the mood for gentle and slow. It wanted fast and hard. Ed had seen her that way a few times, yet she had never pushed back toward him the way she was doing now with Mr. Tall. Even though the force of his thrusts threatened to throw off her balance, she continued to meet them with strong, determined slams against his pelvis. Mr. Tall may have initially grabbed her hips to keep her from falling, but it soon became clear that she was the one providing the balance for both of them.

Mr. Short stepped in front of her, presumably also to steady her. And to feed her his cock.

She gobbled his thickness while she clutched his firm, black ass. Her head slammed into his abdomen as Mr. Tall rammed her over and over. Groans peppered the activity and the juicy sounds of genitalia being worked over stiffened Ed a little more. Mr. Tall pumped her pussy while she blew the daylights out of Mr. Short. She looked beautiful with cock at both ends, especially black cock. Both men now banged her incessantly, as if hoping to push her to some new place. A place of even greater hunger, Ed wondered? Or to push her to the place they themselves wanted to be: orgasm?

They slammed her hard for many minutes. Ed became vaguely aware of how raw his own cock was getting in his hand, but that didn't stop him from matching the men, stroke for stroke. When her come began, it started quietly, somewhere in her throat, but rapidly erupted throughout her body, triggering tremors and jerks and jolts that made her look like electric current was coursing through her. Ed heard her try to shout her come, but the cock muffled her cries. She barely paused in her sucking.

Mr. Tall did an unusual thing as her orgasm shook her body. He pulled out of her pussy, spit on his dick, and crammed it into her asshole. The gentleness he'd demonstrated earlier was now virtually gone—he spared no enthusiasm as he pumped her ass like a madman intent on evoking screams. And he got them—from himself as well as Nikki, who let Mr. Short's prick pop out of her mouth as the one up her ass reamed her.

Ed hesitated. Was the guy hurting Nikki? Should he step in and stop everything? She'd told him "no more interruptions" but they never talked about how to keep her from harm. They'd never decided on a "safe word" or signal to alert Ed that things had gotten out of hand or that she was frightened.

Maybe, he thought, that in Nikki's mind, nothing would be considered out of hand. No amount or type of sex would frighten her.

As Mr. Tall's relentless cock tunneled its way into Nikki, Ed realized something else. She'd never taken Ed's cock up her ass. Never even suggested it. Yet here she was, accepting this stranger's black dick deep up her ass without batting an eye. Surely there was some pain? If she was feeling any, she wasn't letting on. The only emotion Ed could see in her profile was pure, unadulterated pleasure, the kind of rapture that only religious zealots and sex fiends could achieve.

And indeed, as Mr. Tall pumped her ass—encountering no physical resistance, Ed noted—she didn't seem to want him to stop. In fact, only a few seconds after releasing Mr. Short's cock, she groped for it again and returned it to her mouth. A strange, guttural noise originated in her throat and rumbled there while the cocks did their work.

Mr. Tall slapped her firm ass as he fucked it. Mr. Short pulled her hair while she sucked him off. Ed pulled his shaft while he watched.

But suddenly, she broke free of Mr. Short to blurt out, "I want cocks in both holes!"

The men exchanged knowing glances. Mr. Tall pulled out reluctantly and Mr. Short stepped away from her mouth. She was left weaving slightly, with neither man making any attempt to help her straighten up. Turned out that she didn't need any help. She righted herself gracefully and tossed her head to get her now flat but tousled hair out of her face. Dark smudges of mascara might have given her a tired look but the fire in her eyes countered it. She surveyed the room as if trying to decide where to hang artwork, then she spoke.

"Darlin'," she said to Mr. Tall, nodding toward the ottoman, "lie on that so I can ride your cock."

He looked at the piece of furniture, uncertain about how to get comfortable on it. Ed felt for the poor bastard, who obviously only wanted to fuck Nikki silly. He hadn't planned on taking direction from her and performing any contortionist tricks to boot.

But Mr. Tall did as he was told, probably because he knew that sex would be his reward. She walked behind the chair, winking at Ed as she passed the glass door. He knew the men were too consumed by their dicks to notice him standing there; nevertheless, he tried to recede into the night a bit at Nikki's acknowledgement of him.

She still had that untamed, almost crazy look in her eye. Looking at her directly, even for a few seconds, had a disconcerting effect on Ed. Yes, it turned him on to see her to crazed with hunger and willing to do anything to satisfy herself, but what were her limits? Ed understood and favored situations he could control. This was not one of them and yet she'd never been more in tune with herself and he'd never been harder.

And he was hard, no question about it. But it was more than that. His head swam. The sweat at his palms provided an endless supply of lubricant. Never in a million years did he imagine his honeymoon being spent watching his wife with two black men, yet he was so turned on that he could barely get enough oxygen into his lungs. What did this state of affairs say about him? About her? About their marriage? Where were they heading after a night like this?

He turned his attention back to her. She moved with confidence and grace—even power. Her nakedness was no cause for modesty or restraint on her part. If anything, it fueled her. She walked like she was taller, like she had keys to the castle and the combination to all the safes inside. Her voice had lost any trace of girlishness. There was something Amazonian about her that had nothing to do with height. She was lady executive, commander in chief, and matador all rolled into one. Even from where he stood, he saw the gleam in her eye that came not from fun or mischief but from a new and different place, one that he couldn't pinpoint quite yet. He'd seen a glimmer of it at the Sand Kicker Club but now its proportions had grown. Would it overtake her, whatever it was?

She pushed the chair closer to the ottoman to give Mr. Tall support for his head. His cock stood at attention. Ed couldn't say for sure, but it suddenly looked fatter and longer than it had only minutes before.

She stood beside him, swung one leg to the other side of his body, and let just the tip of his cock graze her steamy vortex. He arched his back to contort himself closer, maybe even inside. She moved up and away, smiling to underscore just who was in charge. She leaned forward to wave her tits over his face, waiting to see what he'd do so she could respond to it. Mr. Tall extended his tongue and aimed it at a hovering nipple. She moved to let him lick it. They engaged in this little teasing game until the look on Mr. Tall's face communicated his utter surrender. He couldn't play any more, the look said—he needed to fuck and fuck immediately.

She impaled herself on his meat. She slid down his rod slowly, enjoying the torture on Mr. Tall's face as her heat engulfed him, centimeter by centimeter.

Her arms were crossed behind her head, which made her breasts look even perkier and higher. She looked down on Mr. Tall, nearly salivating from the hunger that threatened to consume her. She moved up and down via the raw power of her thighs—Ed stared as the muscles flexed with a precision unlikely in a person who'd had as much to drink as Nikki had.

"Oh, your cock is good, yeah," she muttered as she rode him. "I can feel it deep inside my cunt. Do you like fucking me?"

"Yeah," Mr. Tall grunted.

She slammed down harder on him. "Tell me how much. Tell me how much you like my hot, wet pussy."

"I like it! I love your hot, wet pussy," the man enunciated. Ed heard the rivulet of fear that ran through his voice.

"Do you think it's time for another cock to fuck me, too? Huh? Do you?"

"Oh yes, baby. A new cock up your ass while mine fucks your cunt. You little slut."

Ed didn't think it was possible, but he got harder. Nikki frightened and excited all the men watching her. Ed yanked at himself, nearly breathless, as fire blazed in his wife's eyes. If she'd been any more stern, she would have been an unequivocal dominatrix, but dominance wasn't really her style. She had too much hunger of her own to play such games of control. Nevertheless, the power she exuded while she barked her commands gave everyone pause.

She bent forward, dangling her titties over Mr. Tall's chest. "What are you waiting for, Armando? Fuck my ass!"

Armando? So she had taken the time to learn names.

Mr. Short, now known as Armando, had clearly never seen the likes of Nikki before. Judging by the size of his hard-on, he was raring to go but the wide-eyed expression on his face betrayed him. Ed found his hesitance strange, considering what had transpired at the Sand Kicker Club all night. Then it dawned on him—poor Armando had never performed anal sex before.

"Fill my ass with chocolate dick," she growled.

Armando stood there, holding his rod with both hands, eager to comply but uncertain how to proceed. To his credit, though, he approached her and looked as if he might just forge ahead anyway, despite his lack of knowledge.

"I'm already open for you, baby. Dontari spread me soooo wide," she said, giving Mr. Tall an extra slam to punctuate her point. She separated her ass cheeks and wiggled to entice Armando closer. When he still didn't oblige, she didn't hide her rancor.

"My asshole wants cock! Come on, now, honey. Stuff that beauty up my hole. Don't be afraid. I'm open and ready for you. Come on!"

Armando bit his lip, stared at the lovely feminine cheeks before him, and fingered her opening. It seemed difficult for him at first, and she didn't help by continuing to ride Dontari. But finally, Armando pushed a finger inside her tunnel and did something that made her groan with pleasure.

"Thaaaat's it, sweetheart. Wiggle your finger. I'm so wet now," she said, slurring her words slightly. She closed her eyes and put the tip of her middle finger on her clit. Frigging herself as her holes got filled, she seemed less a part of the group and more the star of the show in her mind's eye.

She lapsed into guttural noises and random exclamations of pleasure. If Armando was new to ass fucking, he was a quick study. Two cocks now steadily pumped away at Nikki and neither man seemed inclined to slow down or stop. They probably felt as Ed did—like this was an incredible dream that would only continue as long as the fucking did.

Two cocks in Nikki. Ed had to repeat the phrase to himself to even begin to believe it. Two cocks pounding away at both of Nikki's holes—at her insistence. To observe the other-worldly expression on her face was to understand just how deep in her fantasy she was.

Ed'd eyes widened as a certain thought gripped him. With his free hand, he removed his cell phone from his pants and switched the function to "photo." Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He held the gadget up until it framed the action in the living room—Nikki sitting on cock while another shoved itself up her asshole. He clicked photo after photo, catching her face in various phases of twisted delight. He couldn't bring himself to admit that he never wanted the night to end, but if he had pictures, the point was moot.

When she started to shout—really shout—the men took her noises as permission to let loose inside her. Soon, their shouts mingled with hers and grimaces were seen all around. Ed wouldn't let himself come yet, even though his balls throbbed with the need to do so. He sensed more was to come and he didn't want a spent cock to affect his level of attention. A night like this might not ever happen again, he thought to himself as he captured moment after moment through the miracle of digital technology.
Her eyes were open wide, like an animal that senses danger. He stashed his phone back in his pocket, in case her wide-eyed stare had been an objection to his picture taking. Her gaze locked with Ed's as the men sent orgasms ripping through her. Although their eyes met, he wasn't sure she actually saw him, but he finally identified what he saw: defiance. Bemusement, fire, petulance, and defiance. She knew he was watching, knew he was shaken to the core by her behavior, and she didn't care. In fact, something in her eyes told him—without question—that she had a toy chest full of more mischief, more indiscretion, more salaciousness than he could possibly imagine.

This was not the Nikki he'd proposed to and married. This insatiable, whoring, reckless, wild slut was the antithesis of what he wanted in a wife.

Wasn't she?

The confusion made him want to run away, leap off the balcony if he could. But her eyes held him, challenging him to stay tuned to discover what other filthy activities she had in store.

Even after a come like she'd just enjoyed, she didn't seem any less dedicated to the pursuit of more. The men, however, looked dazed and confused. Armando pulled out of her ass and teetered before finding his bearings. Dontari looked like somebody had poured him on the ottoman.

Nikki slid off him and stood up to face Armando. "My ass is still hungry," she told him, hands on her hips. "I think you're going to have to eat it out."

A grateful grin slowly replaced the initial panic on his face. Nikki laid herself down on the sofa, careful to face Ed. She hugged her knees to her chest to make sure that her asshole, now oozing come, was plainly visible.

"Suck out your jizz, Armando. Lick me until I tell you to stop."

Ed went to retrieve his camera but stopped himself. Nikki was watching him now. Ed even got the feeling she was dedicating this particular part of the performance to him. She might not want it documented. As much as he wanted nothing more, he refrained from taking more pictures. Instead, he spit into his palm for the 11th time that night so he could build up to the most potent orgasm he'd ever know.

Armando knelt on the sofa and positioned his face before Nikki's raw but creaming cunt. He went to touch her asshole when she snapped at him.

"No fingers. I want you to use your mouth. Suck your come out of me and tongue fuck me. Do everything to my fucking hole but you can't use your fingers."

Any man worth his salt loved a challenge, Ed thought. And she'd just created a doozie.

Armando pushed her knees up and back to open up her asshole more, having no idea that he was giving Ed a premium view to his wife's waiting hole. When her legs were splayed and her asshole was completely exposed, Armando stared longingly at her puckered hole. Her juices covered every inch of her, from clit to sphincter, and even from where Ed stood, he saw the sheen of her arousal combine with the seeping remnants of Armando's come.

After several moments appreciating the asshole he was about to eat, Armando drew his face toward her asshole and rimmed her with his tongue.

"Oh," she gasped. "That's right. Put your tongue where I need it. Lick up the mess you made." She spoke to Armando but kept her eyes on Ed.

Armando lapped at her and seemed to be taking direction well. Every wide flick of his tongue picked up a random mix of bodily fluids, which he consumed happily. Nikki squirmed and rocked, which helped Armando cover all that slippery territory more efficiently.

"Eat my ass, baby. Eat it slow," she said. Look at me, her eyes said to Ed. Look at me giving myself to this black man. While you watch.

Armando slurped noisily at her hole, loudly sucking out the fruits of his earlier labor. He used suction but he also used his tongue in expert ways, folding it and rolling it just so, in order to extract what he wanted yet keep her excited.

"Dammit, now my pussy is jealous. Dontari, bring me my purse."

Dontari had regained some of his strength and was now sitting up, playing with his erection. He hadn't expected Nikki to give him any instructions, so at her words, he froze, blinked, and then nodded. He walked over to her purse—still holding his dick in his hand—and brought it back to her. As Armando continued to lick away at his assigned area, Nikki finally broke eye contact with Ed and dipped into her tiny purse to pull out a shining, gold vibrator that was just about as long as her middle finger. She placed her purse on the floor alongside the sofa, twisted the bottom of the vibrator, and handed the buzzing toy to Dontari.

"Fuck my pussy with this, honey."

Armando looked up without moving his head and saw the mini gold phallus coming at him. Dontari knelt beside the sofa and carefully inserted the toy in her cunt. She rode upward on a wave of pleasure, shouting whoa! and pressing her hands into the sofa.

She was once again lost in her netherworld of erotic delights. Her eyes were closed and her attention seemingly unfocused. Ed seized the opportunity to pull out his camera phone again. He took photos of Nikki with her mouth in a lovely little o, Nikki with a black face licking her asshole, Nikki smiling at the vibrator's smooth, penetrating, hum. Her legs were straight up in the air for a little while, obscuring her face and highlighting the center of her being: her dripping cunt and beautiful asshole.

Dontari twisted and twirled the vibrator inside her to evoke a wide range of squeals and groans. He pushed it inside as deeply as he could while still keeping enough outside her to hold on to.

"Shove it up inside me," she said. "Leave it on and push it in deep."

Dontari's long, black fingers inserted the toy as far as it would go. It went so deep that it became inaudible. She grabbed her own breasts and squeezed. "Oh my god, that's good. Lick my clit now, Dontari."

Ed could barely keep up with the memorable images passing before him. Tongues worked ceaselessly at over Nikki's clit and asshole, circling and sucking and licking and poking. Her orgasms took hold of her in a series of attacks that made her bump and grind the faces that worked on her. Ed beat his meat so furiously he could no longer concentrate on taking photos, which meant that he missed the moment when her spasms forced the vibrator out of her hot cunt. But it was a sight he'd not soon forget.

"Mmmmm, you made my holes happy," she purred. Her statement seemed to give the black studs permission to step away from her somewhat. They looked so dazed, Ed noted. As if her comes had been their comes and together, they were all spent and disoriented. Little did they knew she wasn't finished yet—but Ed could see it in her eyes.

"You've both been such good boys, I want to do something nice for you now."

They looked at her, blank with exhaustion. Interest flickered in their eyes, however, especially when she told them to lie on their backs on the floor.

"Next to each other," she added.

She choreographed with great concentration. When the two strapping back men, still erect but shiny with her juices, were side by side on the rug, she continued to direct them. The aroma of Nikki's cunt floated out to Ed on the balcony—the room had to be quite a heady place to be at this point.

"Now throw your legs over your heads. I want to find out what black asshole tastes like."

Ed had never trembled as he did at what happened next. He didn't trust himself with the small phone, so he didn't even attempt to photograph anything. The men placed their legs where she told them, balls hanging in pouches just above their anuses. She put fingers to each opening, rimming them. She licked her index fingers on both hands and then outlined their holes, knowing the sensation would be devastating to them. Her ass faced Ed and as she performed this blissful torture on her victims, Ed got a grand view of her cheeks, rising and falling depending on whether she was licking her fingers or teasing their assholes. She was very red and very raw. He had never seen her so swollen and irritated. Was she so out of her mind with pleasure that she wasn't aware of pain? Ed longed to lick her but stayed rooted to his spot on the balcony.

He watched as she inserted both index fingers into their anuses, sliding into them in unison and pulling out simultaneously. She did this for a few minutes, waiting for them to ask for more.

"You know what I'm going to do now?" She asked them. "I'm going to lick the shit out of you."

Normally she would have laughed at her own crude joke, but not tonight.

Her pretty pink tongue rimmed Dontari, then moved to Armando. She used her fingers on whichever asshole was without her tongue. Ed thought about all the women he'd known who scrunched up their noses at the thought of a blowjob, but here was Nikki willingly exploring, even savoring, the genitals of a couple of men she barely knew. Island men with dark skin who barely spoke English.

The men were now squirming and trying not to paw each other from sheer lust. Armando shot another load on his belly, to which Dontari answered with a spurt so strong, it reached his chest.

Throughout, Nikki finger-fucked herself, occasionally spreading her gleaming juices up to her own asshole. Ed was only a couple of feet away, drooling at the spectacle.

Ed was raw from stroking himself so vigorously and for so long. And yet, he resisted orgasm with all the strength he could summon. There was more to see and he refused to miss a second of it.

She crawled around to their chests, where she licked up the come they'd spilled on themselves. She did it slowly, savoring the taste. Her tongue seemed extra long, extra agile as she scooped up the globs of semen. Ed tried to remember if she'd ever licked up his come and decided that she must have. It just didn't look as erotic as it did now with these two black men.

When she'd swallowed every drop, she got to her feet, gave them a look that withered them all over again, and walked to the chair. As all three men watched, she walked to the kitchen and knelt on the tile floor.

"You know what I'd love to have now?"

They just stared at her, knowing they didn't need to answer her.

"I need a good, long drink. I'm so ... thirsty."

The men paused, trying to understand what she meant. They looked at each other and then back at her. Ed suspected he knew what she wanted but wouldn't allow himself to believe it.

"I want you to piss down my throat," she purred, holding her tits in her hands like an offering. "Make me swallow some pretty golden showers."

To even think of Nikki this depraved had never occurred to Ed. He could think of her engaged in what he thought was all manner of debauchery but golden showers was so extreme, so revolting to associate with his beautiful Nikki, even his sexual fantasies wouldn't permit it. But now, tonight, she was going to drink the piss of two black men whose assholes she'd just rimmed and whose cocks had fucked her silly. He just couldn't reconcile the fantasy with the reality. His bride, his urbane and educated wife of only one week, was about to surpass even his own degenerate fantasies.

Her request registered first with Dontari, as Ed expected it might. He said something to Armando in a tone and language Ed didn't fully understand but Armando did. The men got up together and approached Nikki. They weren't fully erect any more, and Ed wondered whether she'd drained them so they could eventually pee on her without any difficulty.

"Cover my tits first," she said.

Armando was first on the draw, spouting a glittering stream of piss into the air that splashed on her breasts like a garden fountain. He grabbed the base of his cock to stop the flow, understanding that it was important to save some for the main event.

Dontari followed suit, spraying her tits and then her face with an vibrant stream of piss that dripped off her and hit the floor in glistening droplets. That same wild fire blazed in her eyes just before she opened her mouth. As the men aimed their streams at her tongue, her eyes closed.

And Ed shot a load so heavy, he had to slap his hand against the wall to keep from falling.

When he could focus again, he saw her still on her knees, still wet with urine, but now masturbating for the two black men. She had passed into a sexual realm without definition. Her eyes looked darker, possessed by something demonic and bewitching.

He didn't know how much longer she could continue to tantalize and amaze her two waning friends, but he couldn't stay to find out. What he'd just witnessed soared beyond the boundaries of "slut" and pushed firmly into the world of evil. He'd seen what no husband should ever be allowed to see and he had suddenly had no idea what to do with any of it.

He didn't have to use much caution as he made his way off the balcony. Nikki and company were a melange of writhing bodies, slippery with sweat and bodily fluids. Their focus had narrowed to include only a cock or a breast or a clit or a pair of lips—they wouldn't notice a moving body on the balcony. As Ed headed toward the bedroom with little chance of being caught—nothing could have distracted the men away from Nikki or Nikki away from them. The last thing he saw before he turned away was his wife's face buried between a pair of black ass cheeks. He didn't care anymore.

His stomach burned. Too much drink, he rationalized. Alcohol hadn't nauseated him this much in decades, even though he'd certainly downed more at some business meetings than he had tonight.

He felt his way around the bedroom, only half-concentrating on getting to the bed. When had his erection left him? Had his pounding headache replaced it? He cursed quietly as he banged his knee into the dresser. The dark room, not quite second nature to him yet, posed some navigation challenges but he stumbled forward nevertheless. Any place, any pain, was better than staying on that balcony.

Be careful what you wish for, ran the endless tape in his head. He'd wanted Nikki at her sluttiest, he'd wanted to see her abandon all sexual decorum with two of the blackest men she could find. He had wanted that, hadn't he? Yes, he thought as he toppled onto the meticulously made king-size bed. He hadn't been aware he wanted it, though, until Nikki gave him permission to picture it.

He rubbed his eyes, as if to erase the hours of outrageous sexual conduct he'd just witnessed. It was no use trying to blame her, he thought to himself. She hadn't coaxed or coerced him in any way. Yes, she'd discovered his hotwife erotica on his computer but not because she'd been looking for it. He'd been keeping his pornographic thoughts and tools where married men were supposed to keep them—hidden away from their wives. If only she'd never found those stories. Maybe now he wouldn't feel so wretched.

But she had also been flirting like crazy, he reminded himself. Did it get worse after she'd found the stories or had it always been over the top? In truth, he could have been content for years watching her exert her mysterious control over men at dance clubs and beach house parties. Revealing outfits, a saucy stare, double entendres—all of it was charming in its own way and he was unlikely to have grown tired of it. Her flirting exceeded traditional boundaries, it was true, but her behavior had never disturbed him all that much. He considered it part of her irrepressible nature.

He could have done quite nicely with never taking it to this extreme level. Before the honeymoon, shame and disgust were unknown to him. Now they pressed down on him like sea water at the bottom of the ocean.

Even from the bedroom, he still heard whimpers and yelps and moans. Arms and legs slammed into random pieces of furniture. How many times could Nikki come in one night, he asked himself. Loathing welled up inside him but he didn't know where to place it: on Nikki for exceeding his expectations or on himself for letting her do it? Another man might have used Armando and Dontari as the scapegoats, but Ed knew better than to blame a pawn for a king's mistake. His gut continued to churn and his eyes burned with tears.

Maybe it was nature's plan to relieve his pain by nudging him to sleep, he thought as his eyes blinked open much later. Some sort of white noise mixed with the white light of dawn. He struggled to remember where he was, and unfortunately scenes from the night before came flooding back to him in a barrage of graphic images. Nikki with her mouth open, accepting a spray of urine. Nikki with her face in the butt crack of one black man then the other. Nikki being spit-roasted, splayed open, eaten—

The light got brighter. The clock read 6:50. Had he been asleep for, what, nearly five hours? And what was that noise he was hearing?

His pounding head made it difficult to hone in on the source of the noise, but once he did, he realized it was the sound of the shower.

Nikki.

Surely she hadn't been fucking those men since he'd left the scene so many hours earlier? This shower couldn't possibly signal the end of her libidinous escapades, could it? He looked over at her side of the bed and saw it was smooth and unmussed. She'd never come to bed.

He couldn't budge. Whether his immobility was due to fear or alcohol's continuing ill effects, he wasn't sure.

But then he heard another sound. A quiet but persistent sound, pitched slightly higher than his own voice and emerging in a-rhythmic pulses. It was the sound of Nikki weeping.

At that realization, he leapt off the mattress and hurried to the bathroom, adrenaline navigating his way far better than his tired brain would have done on its own. As his pulse raced, he found her, naked, sitting on the floor of the shower, knees up close to her chin. The ethereal glow from the pearlized silver tiles surrounded her with a disconcerting purity. The shower spray hit one side of her face and body but every inch of her was soaked. Her dark hair lay plastered against her small, vulnerable skull. When she saw him, her face screwed up into a new grimace and a louder round of tears began.

"Oh, Ed! I'm so sorry!" She sobbed, turned her face away from him as he approached.

He wore only his briefs, although he didn't recall when he'd taken off the rest of his clothing. As he squatted next to her in the shower now, the shock of the ice-cold water against his bare skin made all his muscles contract. He reached over to turn off the flow of water. An eerie silence echoed off the tiles as he encircled her in his arms.

He had never seen Nikki tremble prior to this moment. Between her erratic breathing and her constant shaking, she felt like someone coming out of detox. He held her close and stroked her wet head.

"It's all right, sweetheart. It's all right. I'm here."

"I'm so sorry!" she repeated.

"What are you sorry about, baby?"

"Everything!" she sputtered. "I'm sorry for what I did."

He wondered what he could say that would calm her down, when he was wrestling with his own self-recriminations.

"Please tell me you still love me," she wept into his chest.

"Nikki! Of course I still love you!" He rocked her gently and kissed her head. "What on earth would make you think otherwise?"

Aside from fucking two black men for the better part of an evening, he tried not to think.

She pulled away slightly to look into his eyes. "You went away," she whined. "You went to bed without me. You stopped watching!"

"I'm sorry. I don't really know why I did that," he said, unable to think fast enough to make up something reassuring.

"I know why you did it. I pushed you too far," she sniffled, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You stopped loving me because of what I did!"

"No, no!" he argued. "You didn't push me too far." He looked around for the nearest towel. Finding it, he yanked it off the rod and covered her shoulders with it. "Come on, now, Nik, let's get you dry. Let's talk about this in the bedroom."
He helped her to her feet, still astounded by how compliant and weak she felt. He walked her carefully to the bedroom, keeping the oversized white towel tight around her. She stooped slightly as he maneuvered her, like an old, tired, slightly disoriented woman. Her tears prevented her from seeing well so she relied heavily on him to guide her. Finally, they reached the bed and he sat her down, using the ends of the towel to dry her forearms and her thighs as she shivered and sobbed.

"I went to bed for many reasons," he told her, "but none of them were because I don't love you anymore." He made her look at him as he spoke. "You are my beautiful bride," he added, kissing the tip of her chilled nose.

"So you still love me?" Her big green eyes blinked several times while she pleaded for the answer she longed to hear.

"Yes, my love. I love you totally and forever. I'm incapable of doing anything else."

He was kneeling at her feet like a knight in a fairy tale. He took her chin in his hand and planted a kiss firmly on her lips. "There," he said, "that seals it."

A small, relieved smile spread across her face. "Thank god," she whispered. "I couldn't live with myself if I lost your love."

"Pretty girls shouldn't worry about things like that," Ed said. "Now you need to get under these covers and sleep. When you wake up, we can talk about this all you want, but for now, you need to rest."

She crawled between the sheets and curled up like a child. She didn't say "thank you," but shouted it with her eyes before she shut them and drifted off to sleep.

Ed undertook activities with sporadic interest for the next few hours. The moment she fell asleep, he phoned for maid service—he couldn't possibly enter the living room in its current state. And he certainly couldn't bear the thought of cleaning up the various stains that lurked everywhere. While the maid cleaned, he attempted a walk on the beach but didn't get far. He didn't want to leave Nikki alone too long, because if she awoke and didn't find him there, his absence would confirm her suspicions that he didn't love her any longer. He tried to watch television in the bedroom using headphones but neither sports nor news programming held his interest. When the maid had finished cleaning two hours later—giving him a courteous but guarded smile as she accepted his generous tip—he returned to the living room but found all he could do was stand in the middle of it and recall the lewd acts associated with each piece of furniture. Even the kitchen was off-limits—preparing food there seemed wrong, given what he knew had transpired on that floor and on those counters.

Yet he could sit on the balcony. With a fresh drink. He did his best to read the newspaper there, checking on her every quarter hour or so. At nearly four o'clock, she stirred. He entered the bedroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space.

"Good morning. Sort of," he said as he sat next to her.

"Yeah," she half-snorted. "Sort of." She kept her eyes lowered.

"You okay?"

She shrugged. "I probably will be eventually. For now, I just feel ashamed and kind of ridiculous."

"Please, don't. We had an agreement. You were just doing what we both agreed on." And that was true enough, he told himself.

She turned to look at him. "But I feel like I went too far. It got out of hand. I wish I could take it all back."

Her words surprised him. "You do?"

"Well, aren't you ashamed of me? Wasn't my behavior appalling?"

He stroked her cheek and grinned. "I won't kid you. I was surprised by a lot of what I saw."

She nodded and bit her lip.

"But I was also turned on. Incredibly turned on."

"For a while," she interjected.

"For quite a while. You weren't kidding when you said you would show me a side of you I'd never seen before."

She frowned. "Yeah. The big slut. That's me."

"Nikki. Why are you beating yourself up about this?"

"I should have shown some restraint. I mean, I didn't have to act out every damn fantasy I ever had, did I? What the hell is wrong with me?"

Ed took her hand. "You're a lady with a strong drive. You can't help being so sexy."

She tried to stay angry with herself but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. "You liked it, then?"

"I liked it. I just don't think either of us were fully prepared for what we got."

She nodded. "Yes, that's a good way of putting it."

"I don't love you any less and I'm not ashamed of you," he said. He recognized now that the shame he'd felt the night before had been transitory. What remained was more a sense of loss or confusion than shame.

"I'm so glad. Because you know, really, I don't think I'm cut out for sluthood," she said, a tiny sparkle bringing life to her eyes. "Despite what you saw last night."

"That's entirely your decision." He squeezed her hand.

"Last night confirmed what I think I always suspected but never really thought about. I'm a one-man woman, Ed. I love you. I chose you and I want to be with you. That's why sex with you makes me so happy. This wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am stuff sounds great in fantasies but it feels like shit in real life."

He nodded to express empathy. "I love you, too. I'm just glad you got through it and you're okay. You gave me a scare this morning."

"I was scared myself. The thought of screwing up what we have frightens me more than you know."

"I love you no matter what, Nikki."

"Good. You know I'd never let anybody come between us, right?"

"Yes, I know that."

"If I had this to do over again, I'd do it so differently."

"Oh? What would you do?"

"Well, for starters, I'd get to know the person. Or people," she added sheepishly. "Treating those guys like objects made me feel like an object. If that makes any sense."

"Yes. Yes, it does. You're too warm a person to focus only on the sexual, I think."

"Exactly! I prefer a little talking, maybe even a little romance. What I did was no different than the way a couple of chimps would go at it."

"But they wouldn't have looked as good in that dress," Ed said.

She giggled. "Good point." She closed her eyes. "Oh god. That dress is pretty much gone, isn't it?"

"Fraid so," he said, unwilling to revisit the details of its demise.

"Oh well. It's probably better not to have any mementos hanging around," she pointed out.

"Still, though," he said, not wanting shame to be the predominant emotion of their discussion, "we lived out our fantasies, which is more than most couples ever do. And even though it wasn't quite what we expected, I have no regrets." Well, that was almost true, he reasoned. In time, he was sure that he'd feel no regrets at all.

"How did I get such a wonderful man?" She kissed him, the warmth and fullness of her lips a divine treat on his.

"The same reason I got such a wonderful woman. We deserve each other." He put his arms around her and squeezed. His throat was tight with affection for her.

She took a deep breath. "So how do we move forward?"

He paused, giving the matter some thought. "Well, we can't ignore or forget what happened. There's some pretty vivid pictures floating around in our heads."

"That's putting it mildly."

"We could spend the rest of our honeymoon reliving the best parts of what happened..."

Her eyes lit up. "Hmmm. Now that's an intriguing idea!"

"You like it?'

"Definitely! What parts did you like best?"

"Well, I was thinking—"

"No," she said, putting a finger to his lips. "Don't tell me. Show me!"

He hesitated, turned on but stunned that she'd be open to sex at this moment. This same woman who had wept in the shower, confessed to feeling like a slut, and engaged in every imaginable sexual act in the past twelve hours—now wanted to fool around.

"But sweetie, is this a good time? Aren't you...sore?" He wanted to be diplomatic, sensitive even. Her pussy had to be raw from last night's adventures.

"As a matter of fact, I am a little sore, but it's nothing I can't handle. Come on. Show me what you liked."

She was animated and alive—a complete turnaround from her mood only ten minutes earlier. Ed was suddenly aware that she was naked. He wanted to make her wet and feel that wetness but was that kosher so soon after her mini-breakdown? She was encouraging him, but could he trust this abrupt shift in her outlook?

"Was it when I ate their assholes?"

Her candor disarmed him, as it often did. "That was hot, yes, but I think the scene that first pushed me into a new zone happened even before you got back to the villa. When Dontari put his hands between your legs—"

"Like this?" She took Ed's hand and placed it on her warm, moist bush.

"More intimate, I think," he said as he moved his fingers to find her slit. He stroked her already swollen lips gently, urging the juice to come forward and coat his fingertips. She spread her legs and locked gazes with him.

The slut had returned.

"He played with your pussy, right there in the bar, and then when you turned around to go back to the dance floor, he let Armando smell his hand."

Her eyes widened. "Wow. I didn't know he did that."

Her cunt creamed as she spoke. He spread what she gave him around, much like he imagined Dontari had done to make her moan in the bar.

"Oh yes, he did it. You were loving his hand between your legs weren't you?"

Now a rush of heat accompanied the juice. "Yes," she purred. "But I especially loved it because I knew you were watching. I knew you knew what he was doing and I knew you were getting hard." She reached across his thigh to grab his erection. "Just like now. Only harder. Were you playing with yourself?"

She knew him too well. "A little," he confessed.

"I love that," she said, smiling at him. "I love knowing I turn you on."

The gleam in her eye didn't flicker with the defiance he'd seen the night before. It burned with love.