Norma Egan
SPREAD WIDE WIFE
CHAPTER ONE
Karen Brandon felt the dry hot sun soaking into her sleek nearly naked body. She was sipping a tall cold drink made of gin and limes. She gave a long, low sigh of pleasure. She’d made it at last. Here she was on a rich man’s yacht, hanging out with the jet set. What more could a girl want?
Well, to begin with, a decent fuck.
The thought just bubbled up in her head, and she blushed as it came to her—but, damn it, it was true. The hot day, the sight of all that smooth tan flesh, the attractive men she was talking with—it all combined to make her maddeningly horny. Alas, there was nothing she could do about it. She had her husband Phil along.
Of course she’d never cheat on Phil anyhow. If it weren’t for Phil, they wouldn’t even be here today. Philip Brandon, a thirty-year-old lawyer, had been Karen’s husband for five years. During that time he’d made a big name for himself as a corporation attorney, and now they’d been invited aboard this yacht for private talks with Harry Rosen, a fabulously wealthy businessman who was thinking of hiring Phil. If Phil became Harry’s personal attorney, their worries would be over forever.
At least their financial worries. Karen sighed again as she thought about her marriage, not a contented sigh this time. She loved Phil dearly and was very proud of his success, but, much as she hated to admit it, he was a lousy lover. If she weren’t so inexperienced herself, she might be able to teach him something—but Phil was the only man she’d ever fucked.
“Another drink Mrs. Brandon?”
Karen opened her eyes and saw the steward, Manuel, bending over her. My God, she thought, what a gorgeous stud! Again she blushed as wicked thoughts bubbled helplessly into her mind. The handsome Mexican-American steward was about her own age, twenty-five, and was superbly muscled, deeply tan, and had lazy glowing brown eyes that made her poor starved cunt go all hot and wet.
“Yes, thank you, Manuel,” she said, holding out her empty glass.
Manuel took the glass, and their fingers brushed. Karen experienced a rush of lust so powerful that she almost gasped aloud. Blushing, she looked around hastily to see if anyone had noticed her horny reaction to Manuel. My God, it seemed as if she could think of nothing but sex from the instant she stepped onto this yacht!
Phil sat close beside her but hadn’t been watching her. He was listening to Harry. Phil was handsome enough, but his slightly receding hairline and horn-rimmed glasses made him look very studious. So did the pipe he always had in his mouth. He was wearing skimpy navy blue swimming trunks, and he looked good in them, but somehow he lacked the animal magnetism of dark-eyed Manuel.
Harry Rosen, owner of the yacht, was about fifty and had a thick head of silver hair. He was a big bearish man, but by no means fat. Karen sensed great power in him, harsh strength, even though he laughed a lot and was the perfect host. Like his steward he was tanned practically the color of roast turkey. Beside him, rubbing him down with suntan lotion, was his current mistress, Luann Hart.
Luann was about the same age as Karen, but next to her Karen felt dumpy and middle-aged. Luann had been a starlet briefly before she recognized her own lack of talent and decided to let Harry support her. She’d learned all the Hollywood tricks of make-up and dress, and she always looked as if she’d just stepped off a movie set. Tall, slender, red-haired, she had large melon-shaped breasts that practically popped out of her tiny bikini bra. Karen noticed that even Phil, her studious husband, kept ogling Luann’s cleavage.
Oh, well, she couldn’t blame him. Their marriage was getting pretty dull after five years. He looked at other women now, and she looked at other men. Still, Karen wasn’t all that bad-looking, even if she lacked. Luann’s super-sophisticated style. In fact Karen looked pretty good—as she could tell from the way Manuel’s eyes swept hungrily over her body.
The young steward brought her another drink, threading his way carefully through the lounging people, somehow not interrupting the intense discussion Phil and Harry were having. Manuel moved like a cat, quiet and unobtrusive. Yet Karen could feel his warm brown eyes burning her flesh. The way he looked at her as he handed her the drink—well, she couldn’t explain it exactly, but it was as if he’d stripped her naked and was exploring every intimate part of her body with his eyes.
“Thank you, Manuel,” she said faintly.
“You are more than welcome, Mrs. Brandon,” he said with a grin.
He turned away, and she found herself gawking helplessly at the tight muscular rounds of his ass. There ought to be a law against leans that tight, she thought. She also told herself to be cool. They’d only been on the yacht an hour, and already she was acting like an animal in heat. Phil was here for business, that was all. She must be careful not to spoil things for him. She must smile and be the perfect wife.
“How are you coming along, Karen?” asked Harry Rosen. “Hope Phil and I aren’t boring you with our business talk.”
“Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Rosen,” said Karen.
“Call me Harry,” he said, puffing on an enormous cigar. “It’s all first names on the yacht. You just let Manuel know if you want anything, honey.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Karen said, flushing slightly.
Harry didn’t know it, but there was something she really would dig having from Manuel—not that she’d ever get the nerve to ask for it. She believed in being faithful to her husband, even if things weren’t so great in bed any more. She closed her eyes and sipped her drink, trying to blank her mind, trying not to think about Manuel, about sex…
“Ah, good, here come Roger and Penny,” said Harry.
The three-day cruise was to consist of Harry and Luann, Phil and Karen, and Roger and Penny Green. Roger, a lean blond man in his mid-thirties, was Harry’s chief accountant. His wife Penny was around thirty, a tall brunette with a voluptuous figure. They boarded the yacht, and Harry got up to shake hands with Roger and exchange a kiss with Penny.
“You two get into your bathing suits,” Harry said, “and Manuel will have drinks waiting. Then we can get underway.”
The Greens disappeared into the cabin, and Manuel and Harry prepared the boat for launching. Karen felt excited about the prospect of seeing new places, even if ft was only southern California and Baja. So far in their marriage it had been nothing but work. Phil was scrambling to get to the top, and she’d been right there with him, being the hostess, being the wife he could show off. They’d never had a vacation in the whole five years of their marriage.
Maybe things would change now, if Harry hired Phil. Maybe they, could relax a little and start to enjoy each other. Maybe Phil wouldn’t always be in such a hurry when they made love. She was starved for leisurely, luxurious loving, the kind she never got from her ambitious busy husband. If he’d just take the time to arouse her.
Roger and Penny reappeared in their bathing suits, and Manuel, after handing them tall cool drinks, took the boat out of the harbor. Even Harry was impressed enough with the view to stop talking for a while, and they all just lay back and looked. Luann snuggled into Harry’s lap, and he slipped an arm around her. Karen smiled absently at them, thinking how cozy they looked.
Then she saw Luann slipping her hand inside Harry’s swimming trunks.
Karen blushed hotly and looked away, but no one noticed her embarrassment. Apparently no one but her noticed what Luann was doing, either. It was pretty bold and outrageous, but on the other hand Luann probably thought nobody could see. She smiled serenely at the view while slipping her hand farther and farther into Harry’s trunks. At last her small hand was covering the very spot where his cock had to be.