“Ahhhhhh, yes,” Penny sighed as she was fully stuffed with his swollen meat. “Now ball me silly, darling.”
“I’ll do my best,” Roger chuckled.
And he did, as far as Karen was concerned. She watched, and he fucked Penny for fifteen long glorious minutes. He didn’t just bring his wife off once. He brought Penny off half a dozen times, till she was panting, babbling and incoherent. Karen hadn’t believed such a thing was possible—that a man could ball so long and give a woman so many orgasms. But obviously it was possible. She was seeing it with her own eyes.
Seeing it—and eating her heart out. Now why couldn’t Phil fuck her like that? Miserably she went on rubbing her clit and managed to give herself a little come, but it was nothing compared to what she needed or to what Penny Green was getting from Roger. He just kept humping away, like a Goddamned machine, his small tight ass pumping steadily up and down between Penny’s creamy thighs.
“Roger, oh, my God, Roger,” Penny sighed at last, “I forgive you everything. I’m sorry I was such a bitch. You are a fantastic lay, darling.”
“Aw, shucks,” Roger said. “It was nothing.”
“Like hell,” Penny laughed. “It was super, sweetie. But now you get your reward…”
She did something—Karen wasn’t sure what made Roger yelp with surprise and pleasure.
“How the hell do you do that?” he gasped.
“You mean, tighten my cunt?” Penny giggled.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “How do you do it?”
“Oh, I dunno,” she teased. “I just do This!”
“Ohhhhhh, God,” Roger yelled.
His ass began to fly, and Karen could hear his belly smacking loudly against Penny’s as he fucked his wife furiously and shot his steamy load of jism against her womb. Then he moaned and collapsed onto Penny’s heavy tits. Within seconds they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, fulfilled and content and exhausted.
Karen sighed and got to her feet. She felt like crying, she was so horny and envious. She started down the corridor to go back on deck, when she suddenly looked up and saw Manuel. She blushed deeply. Like last night, she wondered how long he’d been standing there and how much he’d seen.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled, trying to squeeze past him in the narrow corridor.
Manuel didn’t move. Karen had expected him to move, he was always so polite, and so she plowed right into him, felt his hot smooth flesh and the crisp hairs of his bare chest. She gasped and looked up, her face only an inch from his. He was grinning. Then he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.
The kiss lasted only a split second, but while it was happening Karen creamed right through her bikini. She just couldn’t help it. Then Manuel pulled back, grinned again, and turned away. He went up on deck where Karen had intended to go. She fled in the opposite direction, to her cabin. She knew she couldn’t trust herself alone with Manuel, not until she’d cooled off and recovered her wits.
In the cabin Phil was lying on the bed naked. He’d been asleep but he woke when Karen hurried in, blinking at her but not moving. Karen was delighted to see him. Not only would he take her thoughts off Manuel, but they could make love. That was what she needed more than anything in the world right now.
“Darling,” she whispered, shucking her bikini and crawling onto the bed beside her husband. “Phil, darling, make love to me…”
He yawned. “Later, okay, honey? I’m really bushed.”
And he promptly went back to sleep.
Karen was so stunned, she couldn’t even get mad or cry. My God, what was the matter with this guy? He was young, healthy, and straight—so why didn’t he show more interest in sex? She was no psychiatrist, she couldn’t puzzle it out—but she knew one thing for sure. Her marriage couldn’t last much longer if Phil didn’t start fucking her and fucking her well…
CHAPTER FOUR
Karen lay for a long time beside her snoring husband, wondering which was worse—watching Phil sleep instead of making love to her, or going up on deck and lusting for Manuel, whom she couldn’t have. Either way it was a whole lot of frustration. Finally, though, she decided it might be best to at least get away from, the bed. It was too much to lie there thinking that she’dnever have a good time in that bed.
She put on a skimpy blue bikini, grabbed a bottle of suntan oil and a towel, and went up on deck. To her relief, there was no one else in sight, not even Manuel, who must have been steering the boat from inside. Karen spread out her towel, rubbed herself with oil, and lay belly-down in the hot sun. The gentle motion of the boat on the calm sea almost lulled her to sleep.
She tried to think about the dilemma of her life, about being mated to a man she loved but who didn’t know how to make love to her—but she found herself drifting into a stupor of heat and relaxation. Long minutes passed, she lost track of time. She was almost asleep, in fact, when she sensed that she was no longer alone on deck.
Yes, there was a shadow over her face. She opened her eyes and saw a tan bare foot just in front of her. She gazed up a muscular leg, over a pair of red swimming trunks, over a broad tan chest—and looked finally at Manuel’s face. He was grinning, that maddening knowing grin he’d used on her before. Karen found herself blushing without quite knowing why.
“All alone, Mrs. Brandon?” he said.
“My husband is taking a nap,” Karen answered.
“So is everyone else,” said Manuel, sitting down beside her. “I’ve stopped the boat. There’s no hurry to get anywhere. It’s too beautiful a day to be at the wheel.”
He started rubbing tanning oil on himself, though he hardly needed it, he was already so browned by the sun. Karen thought again how maddeningly attractive he was. She felt her starved pussy getting hot and swollen for him, aching for him—and she wondered if it wouldn’t be smarter to go below with Phil, away from temptation.
No, dammit, she could control herself. There was nothing to worry about. She wouldn’t dream of being unfaithful to her husband. Besides, Manuel wasn’t making a pass at her. He was just sitting beside her, making talk, getting a tan. There was nothing dangerous in that. Except that she wanted him so badly…
“I don’t understand your husband,” he said.
“What?” said Karen. “What do you mean, Manuel?”
“He hardly spends any time with you,” the steward said, “hardly even talks with you. If I had a beautiful wife like you, Mrs. Brandon, I’d never leave you alone.”
Karen blushed hotly and turned her face away from him. Was he complimenting her sincerely, or was he just trying to make time? She couldn’t be sure.
“My husband is a very busy man,” she said. “He doesn’t have much time apart from his career.”
“Yes, but what good is his career if it brings him no pleasure?” Manuel said. “What good is the money and power if it keeps him away front the woman he loves?”
An excellent question, Karen thought. She’d been wondering the same thing herself. But she wasn’t going to talk about Phil or criticize him in front of a stranger. Phil’s shortcomings, whatever they were, weren’t any of Manuel’s business.
“He’s a good husband,” she said defensively. “He heats me very well.”
“Does he?” said Manuel. “Does he really give you everything you want?”
There was such an odd quality to his voice that Karen turned and looked at him. His glowing brown eyes were running hungrily over her body, and as she looked, he focused hotly on the dainty mound of her mons under the tiny bikini. Now she understood just what he meant by his question. The answer was no, Phil didn’t give her everything she wanted—but again that was none of Manuel’s business. She blushed with embarrassment and anger.