‘Strangers,’ Will declared. ‘That’s the only condition.’
He spoke as he poured two shots of bourbon. His hand shook ever so slightly and Emma couldn’t work out if that tremor came from his apprehension or his enthusiasm. She suspected it was likely both because her own insides were already churning and twisting with those wilfully contrary responses: she was very enthusiastic about what the evening had in store but she was also extremely apprehensive. The shake in Will’s hand was only subtle but it was enough to splash droplets of the smoky golden liquid onto the glossy surface of the hotel’s bedside cabinet.
‘Strangers,’ Emma repeated.
She took one of the shot glasses and sniffed the bitter contents. It was a quality whisky and she associated the smell with scents of daring, risk and satisfaction. As her nostrils drank in the rich aroma of the alcohol she could feel the heat at the top of her thighs grow syrupy with burgeoning desire. Her chest expanded, as though her body was swelling with arousal. This evening had all the promise of being the start of a perfect weekend away. All she needed to make it absolutely perfect was to locate a convenient and willing stranger. Or two. Or three.
Will swallowed his shot in one. He slammed the empty glass down hard on the cabinet.
‘Say it back to me,’ he insisted. ‘Just so we’re clear on the rules.’
She held the drink in front of her lips and nodded.
‘We go our separate ways tonight,’ Emma said slowly. ‘And we’re allowed to go with whoever we want.’
Will nodded. He was pouring himself another shot and staring expectantly at her untouched glass. He waggled the neck of the bottle, silently hurrying her, but Emma refused to be rushed.
The evening was an hour away and, for now, she had time alone with her handsome husband and she wanted to savour every moment. She could see their reflections in one of the hotel room’s many mirrors. Will, with his pale angular face, dark hair and his penchant for dramatic clothing, looked like he was auditioning for the role of a vampire. She, blonde, busty and bronzed, looked like she had stepped from a Californian beach. Together, she knew they did not look like a real couple and Emma supposed that was one of the things that made it easier for them to play with other partners.
‘Go on,’ Will encouraged.
‘We can go with men or women,’ she reiterated carefully. ‘Or we can go with both, if we want. But the only rule is that the people we’re going with have to be strangers.’ She put the shot glass to her lips and braced herself for the impact of the drink. Emma tilted her head back sharply and swallowed the drink in one.
The whisky was of a good enough quality to burn her throat.
The taste was deliciously compelling.
Will poured two more shots and then pushed the cork back into the bottle. He pulled her into a tight embrace. They were locked in a passionate kiss where his lips pressed powerfully against hers and his tongue plundered her mouth in a greedy and lustful exploration. She could taste whisky and him and her arousal grew so intense it throbbed between them as though it had assumed its own physical presence.
‘We’ve got cameras on our phones for photographic evidence.’ He spoke quickly once he had broken the kiss. ‘And we’re agreed that the one who gets the highest tally this evening will be the one who picks our holiday destination for July.’
Emma nodded agreement.
It was not the first time they had made this bet. Nor was it the first time they had included the incentive of allowing the winner to select their holiday destination. For the past five years, since the first anniversary of their open marriage, they had been adding distractions and diversions to all their extramarital activities. The challenge of choosing their holiday destination was becoming an annual event. This time, given that she and Will had such differing ideas about what made for a perfect holiday, Emma was determined to win. He loved snowboarding and skiing whilst she yearned for nothing more than a sun-kissed beach. Maddeningly, for five years she had not had a proper chance to work on her tan.
With her resolve hardened, Emma reached for the shot glass at the same time as Will picked up his. They downed their drinks in unison and studied each other with knowing smiles.
‘Strangers,’ they said together.
* * *
An hour later she was sitting by the side of the rooftop pool, watching early-evening swimmers work up an appetite for their dinner. She had already abandoned the restaurant. She had seen three of her communication company’s former clients in there and, although she could have happily bedded any of them, they didn’t count as strangers.
The hotel was part of a beachfront spa resort, boasting many amenities and catering exclusively to adults. Whenever they needed a weekend break – and, given her demanding office job and Will’s exhausting work with his model agency, that need to escape came often – the spa resort provided the ideal getaway.
Twilight was now shifting to the black of night. The canopy of stars above was growing softly brighter. Beyond the splashing of a swimmer in the pool Emma could hear the faraway lilt of song lyrics. She didn’t know where the music was coming from but she suspected it was trailing up from the ground-floor bar.
She knew that Will would be sitting there, flirting with any female who went to get a drink. Given his track record as a serial flirt, she suspected he would be doing quite well. He had a boyishly handsome face and a very easy way about him. When he flashed his affable grin and applied his most seductive charm, she knew that he could usually bend any woman he desired to do as he asked. On reflection, she supposed that was one of the things she had always found so appealing about him.
‘Emma?’
She glanced up at the sound of her name being called and was surprised to see a swimmer walking toward her. He was tall and muscular and broad and his tight white Speedos left little to her imagination. She could see the fat shape of the length encased in there. In her mind’s eye, she was already unpeeling the swimming trunks to expose his flesh to the wanton need of her mouth. She wondered how long it would take her to suck the climax from his shaft and she guessed it would be a mere matter of moments. The prospect was so vivid she could almost taste him on her tongue. Dragging her gaze away from his crotch, she glanced at his face.
Her smile broadened with recognition.
‘Alex?’
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘I was going to ask you the same thing.’
She gestured for him to join her at her poolside table and glanced around to see if there was a waiter nearby. Alex was one of her colleagues from the office. When she had seen him managing his sales team she had always been impressed by the meticulous way he presented himself in a suit. She had often wondered if the physique contained inside the tailored cut of his Ralph Lauren or his Hugo Boss would be the impressive rugby player’s build she had always fantasised about. Now she could see those fantasies had not properly done him justice. Judging from the substantial bulge at the front of his Speedos, she wondered how much more satisfying the real Alex might be than her fantasy image of him.
He sat down on the recliner beside her. Instead of staring out at the pool he placed himself on the edge of the seat and faced her. He was so close she could smell the tart tang of chlorine from his earlier swim. Beneath that fragrance she could taste the musky tang of his fresh perspiration. It was a scent that made her hungry for him.
Whilst Emma was entertaining lurid thoughts about what they could do together, Alex was telling her that the spa resort was a convenient getaway for him when he was visiting his family in a nearby town. She maintained a smile of earnest interest and nodded polite agreement during the appropriate pauses in the conversation. All the time her thoughts were toying with the idea of taking Alex’s shaft into her mouth and sucking on him.
Her phone beeped twice.
It was the sound that notified her she had received a picture.
Smiling apologetically at Alex, and brushing the idea of licking his shaft from her thoughts, she glanced at the picture that had been sent.
It was a selfie from Will. He had a woman’s pierced nipple between his lips. The nipple was a dark pink and looked hard with excitement.
Emma’s stomach muscles tightened with arousal. She could feel the greedy need for satisfaction clutching at her loins, urging her to do something to sate her excitement. The yearning ached like a hungry throb at the centre of her sex.
She sat up abruptly. ‘Am I OK to grab a picture of us two?’ she asked.
Alex shrugged. ‘Sure.’
She snapped her phone into the jaws of the small selfie-stick she kept in her purse and placed herself on the recliner beside him. The selfie-stick allowed her to get a full bodyshot of herself and Alex. Her grin broadened as her free hand rested casually on the thick bulge contained inside his Speedos. As her fingers encircled his shape the thickness began to grow warm and stiff. She was aware of an electric tension developing in the air between Alex and herself. It would be easy enough, she thought, to direct the conversation so that he invited her to visit his hotel room.
She snapped three swift pictures and sent the best one to Will. Enjoying being so close to him, she remained sitting on the recliner beside Alex with her fingers still holding the shape of his stiffening shaft.
Alex maintained a polite banter but she could see he was trying hard not to be flustered by the fact that his colleague had unexpectedly grabbed at his crotch. Despite the unusual situation, Emma was pleased to note that he conducted himself with consummate professionalism. She was even more pleased to see that the stiffness in his Speedos reached a substantial and very impressive size.
Her mobile phone beeped to indicate she had received a text message.
Isn’t that Alex from your office? He’s not a stranger, is he?
She scowled because Will was correct. She had already dismissed the idea of sleeping with three former clients because they weren’t strangers. She supposed the only reason she had overlooked the matter in Alex’s case was because she had been fancying him for a while.
My bad. She texted the message back to Will using her free hand. I’ll say goodnight to Alex now.
She cursed quietly to herself as she pressed send and then flashed an apologetic smile in Alex’s direction.
‘What a nuisance,’ she muttered. She squeezed the thickness of his erection and finally let her fingers fall away from him. ‘That text was a reminder,’ she said with forced sadness. ‘I’ve got an appointment this evening. If not for that I would love to have spent some more time with you.’ She stressed the final six words, making sure he understood exactly what she meant.
Disappointment made his face fall.
Worse, she could see the shape of his erection wilting.
‘Is there no way you can get out of your appointment?’
She pressed her lips together into a bitter smile and shook her head. ‘Not this time,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure we can pick this up at a future date.’
He nodded reluctant agreement. She was relieved to see that he made no attempt to follow when she stood up and walked back into the hotel. Instead, he plunged back into the pool and she suspected he was finding an alternative way of expending the excess energy he had been planning to use with her.
Her bitter smile remained as she stepped into the lift and headed down to the basement gym. Whilst Will invariably had a lot of luck at the bar, Emma found it was easier to pick up guys who were invested in some form of physical exercise.
The women at the bar were looking to be admired and Will played on that need.
The guys she found at the pool and in the gym were equally invested in their appearance and Emma had discovered they liked it when someone noticed the effort they had put into shaping their bodies.
It made them easy conquests.
She headed toward the weight room and tried not to be too impressed by the sight of her own slender figure reflected in the million-and-one mirrors that covered the walls. She didn’t work out as often as she needed but that hadn’t hampered her figure. In a pair of powder-blue heels, and with a figure-hugging mini-dress displaying her ample bosom and well-rounded backside, she strutted confidently through the racks of lifting equipment and unoccupied treadmills. Her blonde curls bounced on her shoulders. The gym’s bright lights caught each of the gold highlights in her hair.
Emma headed for the solitary figure on a lat machine.
The gym was deserted apart from him and she figured he would be easily won by her charms. He sat with his legs spread and his broad chest growing broader each time he pulled the machine’s handles. His cheeks had a healthy redness.
If she was honest with herself, the thing that had initially caught her interest was the fact that the man reminded her of little Benny Davidson, the first boy she had ever kissed, twenty years ago, back when she was a schoolgirl aged eight.
After the tug that came from that fleeting moment of nostalgia, she was struck by the man’s muscular thighs. The shorts he wore were tight around his groin and he was obviously built. He had been perspiring into a white T-shirt and there were damp, dark circles beneath the arms. A long line of masculine wetness trailed between his bulging pectorals and it seemed to point toward his loins.
She shivered with growing need for him.
‘That looks like a very invigorating form of exercise,’ she said as she stepped in front of him. She parted her legs so that he had a chance to see her thighs. They weren’t as muscular as his but Emma knew that her legs were one of her most appealing features. Their allure was particularly striking when combined with a decent pair of heels and something short and revealing.
‘Invigorating?’ The man on the lat machine paused and licked a film of sweat from his upper lip. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘It’s a very invigorating form of exercise.’
She fixed her gaze on his and said deliberately, ‘I’d imagine that exercise helps increase your stamina.’
‘You don’t have to imagine,’ he grunted. He did another lat pull before adding, ‘I can give you a demonstration of my stamina.’
Result, she thought brightly. She kept her smile tight as she appraised him with cool regard. ‘I think I could enjoy that,’ she murmured. ‘Are you staying here at the hotel?’
‘I have a room here,’ he admitted. ‘Do you fancy a drink first, or would you like to sample my stamina immediately?’
The muscles at the tops of her thighs trembled. Her sex grew moist with greedy anticipation. She caught her breath, fearful that if she spent too long brooding on how to respond she would begin to dissolve into a puddle of her own arousal.
‘I’d like to sample that stamina as soon as you can deliver,’ she breathed. She glanced around the deserted gym, confirming that they were alone, and then knelt down in front of him. Keeping her gaze locked on his, Emma stroked her fingers against his thighs.
He released a soft, guttural sigh.
She didn’t waste time fondling him or exploring his shape. The urgent need of her arousal wouldn’t allow her to play such games. Instead, acting on an instinctive desire that threatened to overwhelm her, she teased down the waistband of his shorts and exposed the swollen tip of his glans. The end was large and meaty and a pearl of his precome glistened in the slit.
She tapped her tongue against him and sampled his flavour.
The inner muscles of her sex clenched in a light spasm that felt close to orgasm. She panted heavily and said, ‘That tastes good.’
He stroked a hand against her face. ‘Emma?’ he asked doubtfully. ‘Is that you?’
She almost stumbled away from him. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment as she tried to work out how he knew her name. The revelation came in an instant. It hadn’t just been that the man bore a passing resemblance to the first boy she had ever kissed.
It was him.
‘Benny?’ She had to stop herself squealing. ‘Little Benny Davidson?’
He grunted a soft chortle of laughter. ‘Not so little nowadays.’ He nodded at the tip of the erection she had been licking.
She found herself laughing with him and then shook her head. Her laughter dissolved as she realised this was disastrous. Admittedly, in relative terms, Benny was a stranger to her. She couldn’t recall seeing him once in the past two decades and had no idea what he had been doing with his life or anything else of any importance. But she knew, if she added Benny to her tally of conquests for the evening, and if Will then discovered that Benny was her first kiss, he would rightly argue that the man could not be properly classed as a stranger and she would forfeit any victory that came from her actions.
Her shoulders slumped.
She suppressed the urge to groan with frustration.
She gave Benny an apologetic smile. ‘Carry on exercising,’ she told him. ‘You and I can catch up some other time.’ She shook her head as though contradicting herself and said, ‘No. You and I will catch up at some other time.’ She took a card from her purse, placed it in his hand, pressed her mouth to his and savoured a long and lingering kiss.
Benny had been her first kiss. In truth, she couldn’t remember much about the experience. But this kiss was a powerful experience and she suspected little Benny Davidson had been practising his skills since she last saw him. She needed to find out what other skills he had been practising.
Benny looked puzzled by her sudden rejection.
Rather than develop her explanation, Emma gave him a reassuring smile and walked away. She rushed upstairs to the hotel’s ground floor and hurried through the bar, trying not to notice that Will was sitting between two brunettes who were both laughing enthusiastically at some quip he’d clearly made.
He held his fingers slightly apart and their laughter grew louder.
Emma’s cheeks flushed.
She knew he was giving them the line about his penis being microscopically small. It was not the most sophisticated chat-up line in the world but she had seen him use it effectively more than a dozen times to powerful effect. He had even used it on several of his models.
Within the next couple of minutes one of the brunettes would sneak a hand to his groin to find out if he had been telling the truth. When she discovered the substantial girth he had down there, Emma knew it would only be a matter of moments before she was wanting to sample his talents and Will would be chalking up another victory for the evening.
He’s going to win again, Emma thought miserably. And that’s going to mean another holiday of snow, ice and freezing cold mountains.
The prospect was so bleak she struggled to hold back a tear.
It had been a while since she last smoked a cigarette but she felt so frustrated with the way the evening was developing, she thought it was time she reacquainted herself with the habit. She stepped outside into the cool night air, followed the signs to the smoking shelter, approached the only man who stood there and asked him if he had a spare cigarette.
His eyes softened with a sheepish apology.
‘I’m vaping,’ he explained, showing her the chunky electronic tube he was sucking. He offered it to her and added, ‘You can take a hit from this, if you want. But it’s not quite the same.’
She thanked him, placed her lips to the offered mouthpiece and sucked.
She could taste where his mouth had been. The thought was darkly exciting and, for the first time, she took a moment to properly appraise him. He didn’t appear troubled by the light chill of the night’s air. He was tall and dark and dressed stylishly in a floral print Duchamp shirt. He had a muscular chest and his grin was affable. From the way he was considering her she suspected he would be up for whatever she wanted from him.
Her nipples hardened inside her bra.
Under other circumstances she might have wondered if that response had come from the nicotine rush of the e-cigarette. But, seeing the glint of approval in his grin, she knew that would be undervaluing the effect he was clearly provoking.
Her body was responding to him.
He introduced himself as Caleb and, when she asked, confirmed that he was staying at the spa resort alone for the weekend. Emma moved closer to conduct the interrogation. She used the return of the e-cigarette as an excuse, and then stayed so close she could feel the warmth emanating from Caleb’s body whilst she inhaled the scent of his cologne. It was a manly fragrance with echoes of sandalwood and lime presenting a delightful contrast of the comfortable and the acerbic. She stopped herself sighing with a heightening need for him. She figured she was giving enough signs that he could tell that she was interested in him.
‘You remind me of someone,’ he told her.
Her spirits sank.
Surely he had to be a stranger. She didn’t want to believe that, this weekend, the spa resort was solely populated by men who knew her. Yet there didn’t seem to be any other explanation. The place seemed to be filled with clients, schoolfriends and colleagues.
‘Who do I remind you of?’
Her thoughts were working overtime as she tried to predict what he was about to say. Had they met before? When? Where? Who the hell was he? What relationship did they have that would stop them from being technically strangers?
‘You remind me of that woman from the saucy movie that was all the rage last year.’
Emma sighed with relief. She knew the movie he was talking about. A handful of people had said she looked like the female lead. She hadn’t thought the movie was particularly arousing but she did like the way Caleb used the word ‘saucy’. It sat well on his lips and made her realise he was delightfully coy.
She liked the challenge presented by coy men.
‘She had legs like yours,’ Caleb explained. ‘And you share similarities in your facial features.’
‘You might find that we share similarities in more ways than just that,’ Emma purred. She pulled the e-cigarette from his fingers and sucked lazily on the mouthpiece. Whilst she held it between her lips she met his eyes and stared at him with exaggerated innocence. ‘If you watched that film closely, you might find we share many more similarities.’
It was as much as she needed to say to win him over.
‘Would you like to come back to my room to discuss this further?’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ she grinned.
Ten minutes later they were up in his room. Ten minutes after that they were naked and the sex was proving to be amazing. He was obedient and pliant and eager to have his face buried between her thighs. Down there his tongue chased lazy circles against her wetness.
She took a handful of photos with her phone, capturing images of Caleb’s head as it pressed against her pussy. She sent the best of the pictures to Will.
She caught his tongue slipping against her clit.
She caught moments where his teeth nibbled lightly at her flesh.
She caught his nose pushing between the moist folds of her labia. Looking at the photos through a veil of quickening excitement, Emma thought they all looked luridly impressive.
After pressing send, she glanced down at Caleb and thought he looked like he wanted to move his face away. Hurriedly, she pushed at the back of his head and held him against her sex. ‘Suck my clit,’ she hissed.
It wasn’t just that she wanted her clit sucked, although she knew that was going to be pleasurable. She wanted his mouth against her pussy because she was fearful of letting Caleb talk. Given the way the evening had gone so far, she was reluctant to engage him in much conversation for fear of discovering that they had once worked together or he had been a client or they shared some other connection. She felt sure, if they did talk, she would discover they shared a secret history that would mean he wasn’t a stranger.
Whilst those considerations were rushing through her thoughts, the blistering pleasure that came as he suckled her clitoris pushed her to the brink of climax. Her heartbeat raced and she forced a balled fist into her mouth to stop herself shrieking in response to the pleasure.
Her phone beeped a couple of times.
She knew the messages were coming from Will and she knew he was sending pictures. Without needing to look, she figured they would be shots of Will with one or both of the brunettes he had been drinking with. If not those two, Emma figured there would be pictures of Will with some other beautiful woman or women, all of them enjoying a bout of illicit pleasure and proving that Will had better abilities than she did when it came to picking up strangers.
She ignored the intermittent beeping of the phone and focused on what Caleb was doing as his tongue teased the dewy flesh of her pussy lips.
It would have been easy, she guessed, to be annoyed by the situation. Will had been able to easily bed his choice of lovers for the night while she had struggled to find someone in the hotel who wasn’t a colleague, client or long-lost acquaintance. She pushed notions of unfairness from her thoughts.
Even though she hadn’t won the bet, the evening had proved to be a lot of fun.
Pleasure, blossoming from her loins, began to erupt through her sex and spread through her body. Every nerve ending screamed and trembled. The shriek of satisfaction that wanted to tear from her throat was muffled as she turned her face and buried it in a convenient pillow.
She clutched at the back of Caleb’s head and pushed his face more firmly against her sex. ‘Suck my clit more,’ she demanded, as the climax continued to rush through her body. She spat the words with the breathless insistence of orgasm. ‘Suck my fucking clit.’
Caleb did as she demanded.
Emma had to admit he was good with his tongue.
She also thought he was equally good when he bent her over the bed later and took her from behind. He rode her vigorously and hard until a second and then a third climax pulsed through her body. His technique was unsophisticated and brutal but, as he repeatedly thrust himself into her, and when his sheathed length finally thickened and then pumped inside her, Emma felt another rush of pleasure through the aching muscles of her pussy.
She groaned.
Caleb echoed the noise as he collapsed on the bed beside her.
Given the way her inner thighs trembled, Emma empathised with his obvious exhaustion. She felt equally spent. The evening was all but over and, although she’d managed to bed one stranger, that wouldn’t be enough to win the bet.
She tried not to think about their forthcoming holiday of snowboarding and skiing and all those other unrelaxing activities on which Will thrived. The only thing that would make it bearable would be the knowledge that she would be spending it in a ski resort with Will and an attractive group of his friends, all of whom were physically capable to the extreme, and most of whom enjoyed proving their prowess in other, less snow-focused ways.
It was a thought that brightened her mood a little as she kissed Caleb goodnight and tried to remember which room she was sharing with Will. As she walked along the silent corridors, she checked her phone and saw a series of pictures sent by her husband.
The first was the one she had seen previously, where Will’s grinning mouth was around a woman’s exposed nipple.
The second was a more explicit picture of Will’s erect length being held by slender feminine fingers. The nails were painted in glossy scarlet and silver stripes that Emma thought looked quite fetching. She wondered how that design would look on her own fingers and decided to show the picture to her manicurist.
She flicked through the third picture: Will’s shaft slipping into a luridly glossy pussy. The pussy was trimmed with a scrub of brunette curls. The fourth picture showed a similar image, except this time there was a tongue lapping the wetness from Will’s shaft as it plunged into the brunette. Emma was puzzling out the mechanics of that shot, and had flicked through to the fifth picture, before she realised that Will had clearly managed to get two women into his bed at the same time. Two women at the same time? she thought. He had definitely won the bet this evening. She shook her head with admiration as she crept toward the door of their room and swiped her key-card through the lock.
Will was naked in the centre of the bed.
He was not alone.
Emma had been incorrect when she thought Will had managed to entice a pair of women back to his bed. There were three women with him.
Even as she was assuring the women that she wasn’t an outraged wife, on the verge of demanding to know what they had been doing with her husband, she still felt a pang of frustration that Will had been able to succeed at their bet so easily and all she had been able to manage by way of a stranger had been a single fuck.
She kissed her husband on the cheek and poured herself a bourbon. She was tempted to start undressing and ask if she could join in the fun before they all went their separate ways for the evening, but she couldn’t think of a way to phrase the question without sounding needy or depraved.
‘You’re back early,’ Will observed.
She laughed. ‘I’m back early because it was so difficult finding someone in this hotel who wasn’t a stranger. It seems like everyone staying here is either a former client of mine, a schoolfriend or someone I work with. I had a lot of difficulty finding a partner for the evening who wasn’t a stranger.’
She sipped the bourbon and grimaced at the sharp taste.
‘It must be something about this resort,’ one of the brunettes said.
Will glared at her but Emma encouraged the woman to continue.
‘We’re not strangers to Will,’ the brunette explained. ‘We’ve all worked for him as models in the past. That’s why the four of us hooked up here this evening.’
Emma’s brows narrowed as she glanced at Will.
Will opened his mouth to say something but Emma wouldn’t let him talk.
‘You’ve worked for him as models?’ Emma asked the brunette.
‘We’ve all worked for him as models,’ the brunette repeated. She giggled and said, ‘We’ve done other things with him in the past too, although I suppose you’d guessed that much.’
Emma put her drink aside and leaned close so she could kiss the woman with gratitude. Clearly pleased with this show of affection, the brunette returned Emma’s kiss passionately.
Will still looked like he was trying to voice an excuse or an explanation but Emma wouldn’t let him speak. She was looking forward to a night of delicious pleasure with her husband and his three friends. And, afterwards, Emma realised she would also be looking forward to planning a summer holiday where she could bask in the sultry heat of a tropical beach.