Crazy Sex Adventures(Erotica)

We were not in a hurry to go down to the main area for breakfast, so it was close to 9:30 by the time we straggled in. I actually don’t mind sharing tables for hotel breakfasts with folks I’ve never met, but the place had mostly cleared out, so we took an empty table and sat down to eat. My wife is a relatively fearless eater by the standards of most women. She makes it clear that she doesn’t exercise to look like a supermodel, she exercises for the sake of waffles. Between the two of us gobbling down our favorite meal of the day, and our somewhat loud and animated conversation, we did not look like a couple of introverted people who wanted to be left alone.

At some point, there was a really attractive woman and her husband at the breakfast spread not far from our table, and she was looking over at us and smiling and it seemed that she was genuinely enjoying our happiness and occasionally making eye contact with us. As loud as we were talking, she couldn’t help but be part of the conversation. At some point, I saw her very slightly struggling with the DIY waffle maker.

Being the gallant gentleman that I am, I got up, covered the approximately 5 feet between us and said, “Did you need some help with that? I am the local waffle expert.”

“Is that really a thing,” she said.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Oh sure. I actually have a degree in waffleology from Breakfast University.”

She smirked in a way that it wasn’t clear whether she thought I was vaguely amusing or was a mental patient that must be avoided at all costs.

“You’ve probably never heard of it. It was sort of a party school.” But I proceeded to get her waffle started while engaging in a small chat with her and her husband. By the time the waffle was done, we had all spoken a few words to each other, and my wife, ever the proper social animal, invited them to sit with us. If it was just me, I probably would have continued behaving like an ass, but fortunately my wife did proper introductions.

“My name is Jennifer and my husband’s name is Jim. And despite his behavior, he’s a normal guy who actually does make good waffles.”

Our new guest, clearly happy that we appeared to be actually nice people, said, “I’m Olivia and this is my husband, Ken.” He smiled and raised his coffee mug to acknowledge his wife while biting into a bagel.

We all started chatting about the place, not in a particularly substantive way, but still all enjoying ourselves. Olivia had a dignified and commanding manner about her, but not so dignified that it was off-putting. It didn’t help that she had shoulder-length dark brown hair and a face that you couldn’t stop looking at. She was wearing a relatively modest top, but there was a suggestion of some slightly larger than average breasts there that, I needed to remind myself, belonged to someone who was not my wife.

It was nice to meet friendly people since chatting with strangers in person has become a bit of a lost art. The gals were doing most of the talking while Ken and I understood our conversational support roles. At some point, it turned out that both Ken and my wife were physicians, and the conversation dynamic shifted to Jennifer and Ken talking about medicine while Olivia and I had small side conversations. It was looking like a nice harmless breakfast when the conversation began to take a weird turn.

“Hopefully we’ll see you around more”, my wife said. And she meant it. She’s always looking for folks to hang out with.

“Actually”, Olivia said, jumping back into the conversation with Jennifer, “I think we are neighbors. Aren’t you in the other side of our duplex, #203?”

“Yes!” said my wife, happy that fate was conspiring to get her some company for the trip. “How did you know we were there?”

There was a pause. A very slight pause, but a pause nonetheless. “Oh, I think I’ve seen you coming and going.”

And then, even subtler than the pause, was another smirk from Olivia. People are good at lying with their words, but not nearly as good as with their faces. I think we would have noticed them around the bungalow, and Jennifer would certainly have introduced herself. And we really hadn’t been getting out all that much. Then it hit me, we were having breakfast with a woman who, perhaps only briefly, had seen us fucking like rabbits. She had seen my cock driving in and out of my wife’s pussy, and now she was sitting there drinking coffee, talking about some of the shops just off the property and smiling like nothing was going on. And smirking.

Ken, on the other hand, seemed oblivious and clearly wasn’t going to let this story go down easy like a good husband. Lost in thought, he said, “When? We just got here late last night, and we haven’t been out at all except for your quick trip to get us some coffee this morning.”

“Ken, we have next door neighbors that you probably couldn’t pick out of a police line-up.”, Olivia said with a laugh, albeit a kind one. Ken just smiled, properly chastened, and went back to his bagel.

Unfortunately, I have an almost dog-like ability to wear my emotions on my face, and Olivia had clearly noticed that my mind was racing and that I was putting two and two together. And there was again just a slight crack of a smile there that the others didn’t notice. She had seen us, but clearly was not traumatized by the experience. She almost seemed to be reveling in it a bit, or at least reveling in my very slight surprise. Meanwhile, Ken and Jennifer carried on like long-time colleagues.

After my brain had processed all Olivia’s revelations, which really only took a few seconds, I quickly realized that an extremely hot woman had watched my wife and I have sex, and was actively chatting with us and trying to get to know us better. A better man than me would have more dignity than to say this, but knowing she was watching me at my best was totally turning me on. But knowing that she had no problem watching us and that my wife was quickly making a new friend really had the gears in my head turning.

Olivia eventually made some polite excuses for her and Ken to go back to their room. Ken seemed to be pretty clueless as to what that would be for, but he followed along rather obediently. Jennifer kept dragging out the conversation with Ken as Olivia was moving them towards the door, but eventually they exchanged phone numbers and made vague plans for us all to get together later.

Jennifer and I finished up in a slightly more leisurely fashion but eventually started making our way back to the bungalow. On the way back Jennifer continued to be delighted that we had started making friends here and talked fairly animatedly about some of the things that Ken had said. I didn’t really think anything of this as Jennifer seems to be everyone’s friend after speaking with them for 5 minutes.

We got back to the room, sat down, and checked out the website of the hotel to see which of the activities we wanted to be sure to do while we were here. Jennifer is a little more of a fan of the structured activities while I’m just a little more the sort to either wander around or hang out by the pool. I was going to be good with anything she wanted although I was really hoping we wouldn’t get over-scheduled.

Nothing really caught my eye until I saw the massages. They had the normal sorts of choices, but they also had the increasingly popular ‘couple’s massage’, where a couple can get massages together. I was totally down for that, but my wife had never really been a big fan of massages. I’m not sure if that was because she was conservative or just had had a bad experience before. But I threw out the idea, hoping she might bite.

“Hmm… I’m not sure. I’ve never really figured out how it’s supposed to work and what clothes you are supposed to keep on or when you get undressed or things like that.”

“I don’t think there are hard and fast rules about things, and I think they’ll be happy to explain anything or answer any questions. We can’t be the first folks to wander in there without a clue.”