My Wife Tries BBC in Haiti While I Watch

The salt air in Haiti wrapped around Terrence the moment the shuttle doors opened, hot and heavy, sweet with fruit from the open terrace and the green crush of palms along the drive. He was thirty-two, and he had spent four months talking his wife into this trip for one reason. Gabriela, thirty, stepped down beside him in a white sundress, her dark hair pinned up, a flush already high on her cheeks. On the plane she had finally said the words he had been begging to hear. She would try a BBC. He could watch. She wanted to know what it would do to both of them.

Their beachfront villa sat at the far curve of the resort, shutters thrown open to the water, a wide bed turned down under a slow ceiling fan. Terrence set the bags on the tile and looked at her. His cock was already thickening just from the agreement hanging in the room.

"We can take our time," he said. "Walk. Look. If nobody feels right, we wait."

Gabriela's mouth trembled into a smile. "You talked me into it. So we look. If I see the right man, I want to feel it in my stomach before I say yes."

They changed without much talk. She put on a thin coral bikini and a sheer cover-up that hid nothing when the breeze caught it. He wore linen pants that would show every hard inch if he let himself think too long about another man's hands on her. They took the path at dusk, past the pool, the open restaurant, the stretch of sand where adult guests lingered in the warm dusk. Terrence scanned every tall man who passed. Gabriela did too, quieter, her fingers tight around his.

Near the dive shack a local guide stood under the string lights, broad through the shoulders, dark skin gleaming, laughing low with a woman in a red wrap. Gabriela slowed. Terrence felt his pulse slam.

"Him?" he asked.

She swallowed. "Maybe. Don't rush me."

He kissed her temple, already aching. "I want you eager. I want to watch you want it."

She looked at the guide again. Her nipples tightened under the bikini, and Terrence saw it. His cock pushed against the linen, and he did not bother to hide it.

Magnus, the local guide, was twenty-eight, and up close he was taller than Terrence by a head, muscle cut clean under a faded resort polo, a smile that took its time. The woman beside him was Corinne, thirty-four, a confident Haitian woman with a gold hoop in one ear and the easy posture of someone who ran half the evenings on this beach.

"You two looking for a night swim," Corinne said, "or something that stays on dry sand?"

Terrence's throat went dry. Gabriela's hand tightened in his. He made himself speak. "We were hoping to meet someone. My wife is curious. I'm the one who watches."

Corinne's eyes flicked to the ridge in his pants and did not pretend otherwise. "Honest. I like that." She nodded at Magnus. "He knows how to be patient with a woman who is still deciding."

Magnus looked at Gabriela, not at Terrence. His voice was low and unhurried. "You have a beautiful body. That bikini is working hard and still losing. Hips like yours should be held. A mouth like yours should be busy."

Gabriela's breath caught. Color rose under her tan. She did not step back. "You say that to every woman who walks past this shack?"

"No," Magnus said. "Only when I mean it. And I mean it."

Terrence felt his cock jump, obvious now, the linen tented hard. Gabriela glanced down, saw it, and something in her face changed, nerves burning clean into heat. She looked back at Magnus. "He's hard because he wants this. He has wanted me to do this for months. I finally said yes."

"And you?" Magnus asked. "Right now. Not on the plane. Here."

She wet her lips. "I agreed because I wanted to know. I was nervous in the air. I'm not nervous now. I'm wet. I can feel it."

Corinne laughed, soft and approving. "Then you do not need me in the room. Villa at the end of the path?"

Terrence nodded, pulse hammering. "Beachfront. Shutters open. The bed is big enough."

"Good," Corinne said. She touched Gabriela's wrist once, light, a woman's steady permission. "If you want him, take him. If you want to stop, you stop. He will listen."

"I don't want to stop," Gabriela said. The words came out certain. She stepped closer to Magnus, close enough that her breasts nearly brushed his chest, and looked up into his face. "I want to see it. I want to feel how big you are. And I want my husband right there while I do it."

Magnus's hand settled on her waist, broad and warm, and tightened when she leaned in. "Yes," Gabriela said. "I want your cock. I want you to fuck me while he watches and strokes. I'm saying yes. I want it."

Terrence heard his own voice come out rough. "Do it. Please. I want to see every second. I'll stay where she can see me. I won't get in the way."

Gabriela turned her flushed face toward him, sure now, hungry. "Then take us back. I'm done looking."

Magnus smiled, slow. "Lead the way."

In the villa the fan turned and the shutters stood open to the empty dark water. Terrence locked the door and stayed at the foot of the bed, already freeing his cock from his pants, stroking slow so Gabriela could see he meant every word. Her hands shook once, then steadied. She looked at Magnus and lifted her chin.

"Show me," she said.

Magnus stripped without hurry. The polo hit the chair. His shorts followed. What hung between his thighs made Gabriela go still and made Terrence's fist pause mid-stroke. Thick, heavy, dark, already swelling as he watched her watch it, the head broad and shining, the shaft long enough that her lips parted and her thighs pressed together.

"Oh my God," Gabriela whispered. "It's enormous."

"On your knees if you want it," Magnus said.

She dropped. The tile was cool under her knees. She reached with both hands and still could not close her fingers around him. She stroked, slow at first, learning the weight, the heat, the way the skin moved over all that hardness. Her wedding ring flashed in the low light. She looked up, not at Magnus first, but straight at Terrence.

"Watch me," she said.

"I'm watching," Terrence said, voice already wrecked. His fist worked his cock in short, needy pulls. "Put your mouth on it. Please. I want to see you worship it."

Gabriela opened her lips and took the head in. She moaned at the stretch, saliva slicking her chin as she worked to take more, one hand pumping what she could not swallow, the other cupping the heavy weight beneath. She gagged once, pulled back with spit shining down the shaft, and went down again with more hunger than hesitation. Her eyes stayed on Terrence. Every time she sank, she held his gaze, letting him see her lips strain, her throat work, the obscene bulge of Magnus's cock against her cheek when she turned to lick the thick underside from root to tip.

"Good," Magnus said. A hand settled in her hair, not forcing, only guiding when she leaned into it. "Pretty wife. Use that mouth. Show him how greedy you can be."

She sucked him loud and wet, cheeks hollowing, both hands twisting along the shaft, worshipping the length with her tongue until spit dripped onto her breasts and the coral bikini top was soaked through. Terrence stroked inches from her bare shoulder, close enough to see the smile when she came up gasping.

"I want him in me," she said, breathless, strings of spit still connecting her lip to the head of his cock. She locked eyes with Terrence. "I want you to see how I take it. All of it."

"Then get on the bed," Terrence said, stroking harder. "Show me. I want every inch."

Magnus bent her over the mattress, ass lifted, the coral bottoms yanked aside and tugged down her thighs. He rubbed the broad head through her slick folds, and Gabriela gasped at the size of it pressed to her entrance.

"You're soaked," Magnus said.

"Because I want it," she said, pushing back. "Put it in. Fuck me. Let him watch his wife get split open."

He pushed. The stretch tore a cry out of her, fingers clawing the sheets, and Terrence's cock jumped in his fist. Magnus fed her the thickness slowly, letting her pussy flutter and grip, until she was panting both their names. Then he seated himself deep, hips flush to her ass, and Gabriela screamed.

"Fuck, he's so deep, I can feel him everywhere."

Magnus drew back and drove in again, harder, the slap of skin loud in the villa. He fucked her in long, heavy strokes that shoved her up the bed and dragged her back onto him. Her ass rippled with each impact. She screamed into the mattress, then turned her face so Terrence could see it, mouth open, eyes wet.

"Harder," she begged. "Don't stop. Terrence, look at me. Look at what he's doing to your wife."

"I see it," Terrence said, stroking faster, precome slicking his fingers, his knuckles nearly brushing her arm. "Take it. Take all of him. You look so fucking good."

Magnus gripped her hips and pounded, the enormous cock disappearing into her over and over, her pussy stretched obscene around him. Gabriela came like that, shaking, screaming, pushing back for more. He pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and dragged her to the edge so her legs fell open toward Terrence.

"Eyes on him," Magnus said, and sank into her in one deep stroke.

Missionary stole her breath. She watched the whole length vanish between her spread thighs and felt herself filled past anything she had known. Her heels dug into his back. Terrence leaned in, fist flying, inches from where they joined.

"Tell me how he feels," Terrence said.

"Bigger," Gabriela moaned as Magnus fucked her deep and ground into her. "So much bigger than you. He fills me completely. Your cock never reached like this. He's stretching me open and I love that you're right here stroking while he ruins me."

Magnus's pace turned savage. The bed knocked the wall. Gabriela's moans went high and shameless, her pussy clutching, wet sounds filthy in the open air. She locked eyes with her husband and did not look away.

"Stay right there," she gasped. "Stroke it. I want you to see how much I can take."

Magnus groaned, buried to the hilt, and flooded her. Hot pulses of cum pumped deep into Gabriela's pussy, thick and heavy, and she shuddered through a final orgasm that locked her around him, sobbing, milking every spurt while her nails dug into his arms. He stayed inside until the last throb, then pulled out slow. A massive creampie spilled from her stretched hole and poured onto the sheets in a filthy white stream.

Terrence stared, fist still flying inches from the mess, and came with a broken sound, striping his knuckles and the inside of her thigh.

Magnus dressed without ceremony, polo and shorts, one last look at the wrecked woman on the bed. "You know the shack," he said, and walked out into the dark.

Gabriela did not soften. She spread her pussy with two fingers so more of his load drooled out, and she dragged Terrence down by the hair until his face hovered over the creampie.

"You watched every second," she said, raw and greedy. "You stroked while that huge cock split me open and pumped me full, and I loved being watched. I want his cock in me again before this trip ends. I want another load while you kneel there hard and useless."

She smeared Magnus's cum across Terrence's lips and held his mouth open.

"Lick your wife's sloppy cunt clean, cuck — his load is still leaking and I am not done getting fucked."