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. Wife Wears Wet T-shirt In Hot-tub With Other Men

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Gustav-Jorgenson, Nov 16, 2016.

. Wife Wears Wet T-shirt In Hot-tub With Other Men 4.8 5 4votes
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  1. Gustav-Jorgenson

    Gustav-Jorgenson Member Author!

    My wife Alexa decided that we should take a weekend trip up to Napa from San Francisco to get away from the city for a few days. She was always dragging me on these little Northern California road trips because she said that it’s good for your mind to have new experiences. I am more of a home body myself and would have just as well spent the entire weekend at home browsing the internet. But Alexa is pretty willful, so I usually let her have her way to avoid a big fight.

    We did a one of those group wine tours in which a tour bus drove us around to different wineries to do wine tastings. It was a beautiful day and I was enjoying the scenery as we drove past the sunny fields of grapes, arrayed in neat rows. Alexa is more outgoing and social than I am and she made friends with these three guys who worked at a VC firm in the city. I didn’t like them at all. They were big and loud and they drank too much. They reminded me of privileged ivy league frat boys even though they were already in their thirties. But Alexa thought they were hilarious and she got a little too drunk right along with them. In fact, she went back and sat with them on the bus, leaving me by myself, which I found a little annoying.

    As we were getting off the bus to visit the last winery of the day, I rushed to catch up with my wife and her new friends. “Hey, wait up, you guys,” I panted as I ran up to the group.

    “Lookit this little guy, trying to play catch up!” laughed this fellow Peter. He grabbed me roughly in a headlock and started tousling my hair while I struggled vainly in his iron grasp. He was over 6 feet tall and maybe 200 lbs, whereas I am only 5’8” and about 150 lbs. Not to mention the fact that I spend more time on my computer than the gym. The annoying part was that Alexa just laughed along with Peter’s two friends as the big oaf manhandled me. Other people laughed along too. When Peter finally deigned to release me, I was red-faced, my hair was a mess, and my shirt had gotten untucked.

    “Tisk, tisk, Peter,” my wife laughed. “What have you done to my poor husband?” Alexa came over to me and started straightening my hair with her fingers.

    “Just a little roughhousing,” said Peter, cracking his knuckles like the big primate that he was.

    “Ach, look at you, Sheldon,” my wife said. “Your shirt came all untucked.” Alexa started poking my shirt back in. I felt a little humiliated to have my wife babying me like this in front of everyone.

    “Alright, alright, I can do it.” I pushed my wife away impatiently.

    “Oh, ok, snappy,” she laughed. She stepped back and put her hands on her hips as she watched my rearrange myself.

    “I mean it wasn’t MY idea for that lummox to grab me like that.” I pointed an accusing finger at Peter.

    “What? Me? A lummox?” asked Peter in a falsetto voice. He put his hand on his chest in mock indignation. “Why I never!” His friends all broke out in laughter, braying like the donkeys they were.

    “Well, just stop roughing up my hubby and he won’t hurt your tender sensibilities,” said Alexa. But then, to my amazement, she simply took Peter by the arm and escorted he and his pals into the wine tasting room. I was left standing in the courtyard to bear the snickering of other tour members who had observed my humiliation.

    My wife and her pals had a grand old time drinking up all the wine and not spitting it out the way the tasters showed us. I was mortified by how loud and obnoxious they were acting, shouting inappropriate comments about the wine taster’s cleavage and whatnot. But Alexa just laughed right along with these cretins, slapping Peter’s thick chest in her merriment. I was actually relieved when the manager came out and asked us to leave. We had to go wait in the bus for a while until the more civilized members of the group were finished with their tasting. Of course Peter had managed to swipe a bottle on the way out and he and his pals and my own wife passed the bottle around as we waited on the bus.

    It really annoyed me how my wife had basically ignored me the whole day and hung out with these uncouth morons. They might be wealthy finance guys, but they acted like hooligans in fancy suits. I intended to have a little chat with Alexa about all this nonsense when we got back to our hotel room that night.

    The problem was that when we got back to the hotel, as we were waiting in the lobby for the elevator, Peter threw a wrench in the works.

    “Alexa, Alexa,” said Peter with a slur in his voice. “Come down to the hot tub and party with us.” The jerk had his arm around my wife’s shoulder which I found totally inappropriate, but I didn’t want to risk him giving me another headlock so I kept my mouth shut.

    “Aww, Peter, I’m sorry, I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” said my wife, swaying drunkenly in his embrace and trying to hold onto him for support.

    “Fuck, just wear your underwear, no one cares,” said Peter. I was disgusted by the spittle flying from his drunken lips.

    “Shh, you are terrible,” laughed my wife. She slapped his muscular chest again as she had been doing all night. “But maybe I can wear a t-shirt and some shorts. What do you think, Sheldon? Would you mind if I joined Peter and his friends?”

    “Wet T-SHIRT party, boys!” shouted Peter to his pals who were leaning against the wall for support. “Alexa is gonna wear a t-shirt in the hottub!”

    “Awesome!” shouted the other two douchebags.

    “Omigod, you guys are terrible,” laughed my wife. “I’ll go get changed and meet you at the hot tub in just a few minutes.” Then the elevator arrived and we got on.

    “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded of my wife. “You can’t go around, carousing with those asshats all night in the hot tub! And what’s this wet t-shirt business? That doesn’t sound very ladylike to me!”

    “Oh Sheldon,” said my wife, rolling her eyes drunkenly. “Pish, you are making a big deal out of nothing! I’m just trying to have fun, meet new people, try new things!”

    “Like show some strange guys what your boobs look like in a wet t-shirt?” I squeaked indignantly. “Totally improper.”

    “Improper!” scoffed my wife. Then we got to our floor and she stumbled down the hall toward our room. “Um, I can’t find my key,” she said, digging around in her purse.

    I deftly produce my card key and swiped the door open.

    “Thank you, darling,” she said and gave me a sloppy kiss.

    As soon as she got inside the room, my wife started stripping. Off came her top and then she dropped her shorts and stood there contemplating herself in the mirror, wearing just her bra and panties.

    “I’m still looking pretty good I guess,” she said critically. And she did too. She had a nice hourglass figure with large breasts and and a nice big ass. Alexa unhooked her bra and her big boobs came popping out. She weighed them in her hands for a moment. “Do you think the boys will find my boobs too saggy?”

    “I mean, you can’t, you can’t just,” I stammered. “You can’t SHOW them your boobs, Alexa!”

    “I’m going to wear a t-shirt, silly,” she replied defensively. And she grabbed a big oversized shirt that she liked to wear as pajamas on warm evenings. “See, I’m mostly covered up.”

    The t-shirt material was pretty thin from years of washing and Alexa’s hard nipples were poking through the shirt while her unleashed breasts jiggled back and forth.

    “Jeez, Alexa, your tits are bouncing all over the place.”

    “Do they look hot?” My wife headed back out of the room in just the t-shirt.

    “Yeah, a little TOO hot if you ask me,” I said, trailing after my willful wife. “Can’t you put a bra on at least?”

    “Come on Sheldon, let me live a little,” she said as I followed her down the hall back to the elevator. A husband and wife dressed in formal dinner attire passed us and looked at my wife’s skimpy outfit with shock as she padded bare-legged down the hall in just her t-shirt, knockers bouncing every which way. I put my hand over my face and avoided their gaze in embarrassment.

    “Live a little? Honey, you are drunk and you want to go jump in a hot tub half naked with some strange men.” I was trying to sound reasonable as we boarded the elevator.

    “Pish,” she snorted. “They aren’t strange. I’ve been hanging out with Peter and the boys all day. They are hilarious! You can be such a stick in the mud sometimes, Sheldon. Can’t you loosen up a little?”

    I just scratched my head as we got back to the lobby. Luckily no one was around to see my half-naked wife. She wandered aimlessly out onto one of the patios but it seemed to be a dead end. A couple of Hispanic bellhops were smoking a cigarette out there on their break.

    “Hey sexy lady!” said one of the guys with a thick Mexican accent. He and his pal were looking my wife up and down with carnal intent.

    “Hi!” said my wife with a little wave of her hand that made her boobs bounce even more. “Which way to the hot tub?”

    “You gonna get in the hot tub in THAT outfit? Just the t-shirt with no bra?” asked the bellhop excitedly. His friend guffawed and punched him in the ribs.

    “How do you know that I’m not wearing a bikini top under this?” asked my wife innocently as she touched her boobs.

    “They jiggling baby, they going all over the place,” chuckled the horny bellboy. He was a slimy looking character with pock marked cheeks.

    “Oh.” My wife seemed too drunk to care that these creeps were checking her out. “Well, anyway, which way to the hot tub?”

    “You gotta go back through the lobby and down that other hall,” said the first bellhop.

    “Hey, man, let’s show her,” said his pal. Then he opened the door for my wife. “After you, lady.”

    “Wow, thanks, you guys are nice!” said my wife brightly and she padded back into the lobby. The two bellhops barged in front of me so they could check out my wife’s ass, just barely covered by her long t-shirt.

    “I hope you aren’t totally naked under that shirt,” said the first bellhop to my wife, giving his pal a lecherous grin. “We got rules against that.”

    “I’m not, I’m not,” insisted my wife. “Look, I’ve got panties on.” And she lifted the back of her shirt up to show them. The two perverted bellhops chortled with satisfaction as they got a nice view of my wife’s ass in her skimpy panties.

    “Oh, uh, actually the rule is you can’t wear no panties, you better take them off,” said the other guy.

    But my wife wasn’t THAT drunk and she turned to wag a finger at them. “Now don’t be naughty you two, I know that can’t be right. You just want to see my bum! I’m keeping my panties on though. Oh, here’s the hot tub, and here are my friends. HI Peter!” My wife went running out onto the patio where Peter and his two cronies were waiting in the hot tub for her. They had more drinks of course, the lushes. The two bellboys decided to hang out discretely a few yards away, probably hoping to catch a peek of my wife’s t-shirt once it got wet.

    “Ooh, looking GOOD Alexa,” said Peter eyeing my wife’s body. “Get down in here, we got a couple more bottles of wine and the water is fine.”

    “That rhymes,” said my wife as she daintily lowered herself down into the bubbling water of the hot tub. The hem of her shirt went ballooning out and she had to push it down under the water. I watched with sick trepidation as her shirt got soaked halfway up to her chest, but she sat on a higher step of the hot tub and her breasts didn’t get submerged, so I sighed in relief. But it still felt a little weird to be hanging out here watching my wife party with these obnoxious men who we barely knew.

    “Aww, come on! You didn’t get your whole top wet!” complained Peter. “I thought you were going to show us your wet t-shirt.”

    “My husband would probably freak out if I did that,” she laughed. “I better have another drink first.”

    “That’s true, once you are sauced up enough, you won’t care WHAT he says about it,” agreed Peter, pouring her a huge glass of wine.

    I squinted at him with hatred but I bit my tongue and stood by awkwardly. The two bellhops produced more cigarettes and took up a position where they could clearly see my wife. They were biding their time.

    My wife downed her wine pretty quickly and let the glass fall right over, she was so drunk.

    “Oh wow, this water feels SOO GOOD,” slurred my wife and she sank down another step, until she was neck-deep in the tub, her boobs totally submerged. Her shirt was probably totally transparent at that point and the two horny Mexicans perked up and were glancing over with interest but my wife kept herself modestly submerged for the moment.

    “Yeah, it’s nice,” said Peter. “I’m glad you settled down and got your shirt nice and wet too. I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

    “Why are you so excited to see my shirt wet Peter?” My wife looked over at me coquettishly.

    “Oh, I think you know why,” said Peter with a wolfish grin.

    “Show us your boobs!” blurted one of his pals. He was obviously even more hammered than my wife.

    “Tony, stop it!” laughed my wife. She splashed him in the face playfully.

    “Now that’s just unseemly,” I yelped. “Asking another man’s wife to show her, her breasts!” I could feel my face getting hot and my stomach was roiling with anxiety and shame.

    “Look at him, he’s getting ready to piss himself,” laughed the third guy.

    “Yeah, never mind him, baby,” coaxed Peter. “Just slide up one step so we can see what how your shirt looks when it’s wet.”

    “What, like this?” asked my wife innocently. She looked me in the eye as she obeyed Peter’s order and lifted herself back out of the water so that her breasts were exposed.

    And they really were exposed. That old thin t-shirt left NOTHING to the imagination once it was wet. It clung completely to her big round breasts, outlining those luscious orbs perfectly. We could even see the pink of her nipples showing through. Alexa tried tugging the shirt out a bit to lend her some modesty, but it just snapped back in place so she shrugged and put her elbows behind her, up on the edge of the hot tub.

    “So, what do you guys think? You like them?” she asked.

    Peter’s two buddies hooted with excitement at the sight of my wife’s amazing rack and the two Mexicans came running over to get a better look.

    “¡Ay caramba! Mamacita!” shouted the aroused bellhops.

    “Eh, they are adequate I suppose,” commented Peter with a judicious pout.

    “Jesus, Alexa, what are you putting on a gosh darn peepshow for the whole world over here?” I demanded weakly. I felt myself blushing and my pits were getting soaked with embarrassment. The sight of all these guys ogling my drunken wife’s chest was stressing me out.

    “Hold that thought, honey,” said my wife, raising a finger to me as she turned to Peter in wrath. “Did you say adequate, Peter? Adequate? Look at these bad boys! They are amazing!” My wife cradled her big boobs in her hands and pinched her nipples for him to get them even harder.

    “Well, you know, I’ve seen better, but they look pretty good I guess.” He winked at his buddies who broke out laughing. “I guess I could fap to those.”

    “Ugh, really? Don’t be gross,” said my wife. But she had a devilish smile on her lips and looked at Peter with affection.

    “That’s a compliment really,” insisted Peter. “Here, I will show you.”

    “Show me what?” asked my wife.

    “I’ll fap to them,” he said, and he wriggled around for a second before lifting his swimming trunks out of the water.

    “Oh. My. God. You did NOT just take your shorts off!” gasped my wife. She was trying to peer through the bubbling water to see if she could see Peter’s dick, but it seemed too frothy from where I stood.

    “Of course I did,” he laughed. “How else am I gonna fap to your boobs? Here, hold these for me.”

    “I’m not gonna hold those,” giggled my wife. Then she looked over at me with an impish grin. “Give them to Sheldon.”

    “I don’t want them!” I cried. But Peter had already flung his shorts in my direction and klutz that I am, I flailed my arms, but failed to catch them and they struck me right in the face. I pulled the wet trunks off me and threw them down on the ground in humiliation, while the two Mexicans joined in the general laughter, heightening my shame. I wanted to crawl under rock, but I dared not leave my wife alone with these guys. Things were getting out of hand here.

    “Ok, yeah, pinch your nipples again, that was hot,” urged Peter while his arm went up and down under the water. He was literally jerking his meat while he checked out my wife’s breasts in her see-through top. Peter’s two pals were holding their sides, gasping for breath between peels of laughter and the two Mexican bellhops shook their heads.

    “This guys is crazy man,” the one bellhop told me, poking me in the side familiarly. “You gonna let him get away with that, man?”

    “I mean, no, of course not,” I said impotently. But I really had no idea what I was going to do.

    “You like that, huh?” asked my wife. She was pinching her nipples shamelessly for the big hairy Peter while he jerked himself with a look of satisfaction on his face. “But I can’t believe that you are really tugging your monkey under the water there. That’s so naughty!”

    “Reach over here and feel how hard I am,” he said with a crooked grin.

    “Oh my god no!” gasped my wife with a startled laugh.

    “Ok, I’ll show you then,” he said and he leaned back and thrust his hips upward until the red, swollen head of his penis emerged from the bubbling waters of the hot tub.

    “Dude!” shouted his pals boisterously. “Put your junk away man! We don’t want to see that shit,” commented Tony with a laugh.

    “Oooh, You ARE a dirty boy, aren’t you?” purred my wife as Peter lowered his cock quickly back into the water. She scooched over closer to him in the hot tub and put her hand closest to him down under the water.

    “Honey, what are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.

    “Why nothing, nothing at baby,” she told me with a blank expression. But Peter suddenly broke out into a broad grin and looked at my wife in a weird way.

    “You ARE a dirty slut, huh?” he asked her.

    “You like that?” my wife asked him enigmatically, looking him in the eye as her arm moved suspiciously under the foamy water.

    “What a minute, what are you…” I asked helplessly. The Mexicans sniggered knowingly as my wife was probably giving that jerk a handjob under the swirling water.

    “Take off your panties and give those to your husband too,” urged Peter.

    “Why?” asked my wife. She put a finger in her mouth, feigning ignorance.

    “Just to freak him out!” laughed Peter.

    “Oh come on!” I complained.

    “Is this going to freak you out, honey?” asked my wife. But she already was reaching down under the water with her other hand and started wriggling around.

    “This is totally inappropriate!” I yelped as she lifted her panties out of the water and flung them toward me.

    One of the Mexicans snagged them mid-flight though and put them to his face lewdly.

    “They probably just smell like chlorine at this point,” said my wife. She gave the hotel worker a look of mild disgust.

    “Oh, no, I’m sure they still smell like fish,” teased Peter.

    “Why you foul mouthed bastard!” cried my wife and she splashed Peter in the face.

    He splashed her back and pretty soon there was a pretty intense splash war going on with Peter’s two pals getting into the action. My wife got overwhelmed and decided to attack Peter physically. She jumped on top of him and slapped his face playfully. He grabbed her in a bear hug, crushing her up against him and then lowering her down onto his lap. I looked more closely and realized that she was straddling him at this point. If he still had that erection, then they were in a pretty compromising position, especially since she just removed her panties moments before.

    “Oh, you bastard, OH UGH,” gasped my wife as she wrestled with Peter, her face close to his as he manhandled her onto his lap. “Oh my god, how DARE you!” she gasped suddenly.

    “You feel that?” he asked her, grinning up at her.

    “Oh yeah,” she panted.

    “Feel what?” I cried. I was suspecting the worst.

    ‘Nothing, dear, nothing, we are just, oh god,” she moaned. Peter was bouncing her up and down in the water now. “Oh god.”

    “Just what?” I yelled trying to see what was happening under the water.

    “He’s dicking her, man,” laughed one of the bellhops. “You a cuckold, son.”

    “Nonsense,” groaned my wife as she was bounced up and down like a ragdoll. “We are just, oh wow, oh wow, yes, yes. No, no, I mean, just horsing around, Sheldon.”

    “That looks like pretty, um, dubious behavior,” I said, my blood was running cold at this point. This guy was really fucking the shit out of my drunken wife in the hot tub while all these other guys was watching and laughing at me. I felt like I was going to puke, and yet somehow, I suddenly had a massive erection of my own.

    “Oh yeah, ahh,” grunted Peter, yanking my wife downward with one final massive thrust.

    “Yes, yes,” agreed my wife, putting her head on his shoulder.

    “I can’t believe you guys just did that,” laughed Tony. “That was fucking awesome.”

    “I don’t know WHAT you are talking about, my man,” replied Peter, tossing my wife off of his lap gruffly.

    “Hey,” squawked my wife as she backstroked to her previous spot in the hot tub. Her lovely boobs pointing skyward for a moment and drawing everyone’s eye.

    “Alexa and I were just horsing around, that’s all,” he said, giving me the most innocent look in the world. For a moment, I almost fell for it. I started to doubt myself. Did I really see what I thought I saw? Maybe they were just teasing me?

    “Oh, yeah, just horsing around,” agreed my wife. She was fanning her face furiously and her eyes were bright with drunken lust. “Um, come on honey, let’s go back to the room.” She climbed unsteadily out of the hot tub and this time her entire body was visible. From her pink nipples to the dark patch of her bush as the sodden shirt clung transparently to her amazing figure. The Mexicans whistled with appreciation.

    “Uh, we better find you a towel first,” I stammered. I was searching frantically around for some way to protect my wife’s modesty.

    “Forget it,” She waved at me drunkenly as she teetered off in the wrong direction.

    “Oh snap, baby, you going the wrong way, that’s the entrance to the nightclub!” called one of the bellhops.

    “Yeah, yeah, well, maybe I could use another drink,” said my wife as I hurried after her. When she yanked open the mirrored door before her, sure enough, she walked right into a crowded nightclub dancefloor.

    I gasped in dismay and rushed forward to pull my wife out of there, but she just disappeared into the crowd. My senses were pounded by the overwhelming bass of the dance music and I was stunned for a moment as I stood on the crowded dance floor. The lighting was dark in there, lit by disco balls and lasers, and I almost lost my wife as she pushed her wet body in her translucent t-shirt through the throng of dancers. But the lighting wasn’t SO dark that no one noticed her exposure. I couple of girls were pointing at her and a couple of guys joined arms, barring her way so they could check out her body. This actually helped me catch up with my wife as a circle was forming with poor drunken Alexa in the middle surround by leering party people.

    “I wanna drink! Let me by!” shouted my wife over the music.

    “We’ll buy you a drink, baby,” shouted one of the guys looking my wife up and down and licking his lips. “What’s the rush? We like your outfit!”

    My wife looked down at her exposed nakedness as though becoming aware of her appearance for the first time and she hastily covered her nipples. “Oh shit,” she slurred.

    “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” I shouted in her ear. But I was shoved aside by someone I couldn’t see and a hand reached out of the crowd and reached up the back of her t-shirt to grab her bare ass. Alexa yelped and turned to slap the hand away, but she was surrounded by groping men at this point and one the guys who had barred her way grabbed her tits brazenly and started squeezing them. She slapped that guy and tried to push him away, but he just kept grabbing at her. I tried to intervene but one of his buddies shoved me aside. Things were getting completely out of control, my wife screaming in frustration as hands groped her from all directions, pinching her bum, poking at her pussy, and I was helpless to stop them. I was getting pushed roughly from side to side by bigger men elbowing me aside to get a piece of my exposed wife.

    Suddenly Peter and his buddies appeared, powering their way through the melee, shoving guys aside violently until they had surrounded my wife in a protective cordon. Peter even punched one groper right in the face.

    “Are you ok, baby?” he asked my wife as the music stopped and a couple of bouncers appeared to clear the crowd back.

    “Oh Peter, it was awful,” sobbed my wife onto his shoulder. “You saved me!”

    “I don’t know how you got in here like that lady, but you are breaking the dress code,” said one one big black bouncer, eyeing my wife with appreciation. “No shoes, no service,” he said, pointing at her bare feet. He gave a rueful smile. I almost laughed. The very idea that she could be practically naked in here as long as she wore some shoes was absurd.

    The DJ brought the beat back and Peter escorted my wife back onto the patio with the hot tub, the bouncer helping to clear a path through the crowd who were all pointing and laughing at us.

    “You can bring her back once she got some shoes on,” the big black man told Peter. He looked directly at my wife’s boobs the whole time. “But you better stick by your girl so those horny dawgs in there don’t go for her meat!”

    “She’s not HIS girl, she’s MY wife!” I squeaked indignantly.

    “For reals?” he asked me in surprise, looking back and forth between the huge Peter with my wife in his arms and my scrawny self, standing awkwardly on the side. “Well, that’s, whatever. You better bring the big guy to protect your woman then. You saw what happened.”

    “She’s not going back in there, she’s too traumatized,” said Peter authoritatively. “I’m going to take her back to my room so she can recover.”

    “She should come back to OUR room, not YOUR room,” I insisted, trying to grab my wife from his grasp.

    “Oh, it’s OK honey, I’ll come back to the room a little later. I feel safe with Peter. He did save me after all.” My semi-naked little wife was looking up at her hero with adoration and my ears burned with anger and shame.

    “That’s right baby, we’ll get you out of that wet shirt and into a nice fluffy bathrobe and I will order you some hot chocolate from room service,” he told her as he lead her away.

    “But, but,” I cried, trying to get a grip on my wife’s arm as they departed. But Tony pulled me back roughly.

    “Let it go, man, let it go,” he told me. He was holding my arm in an iron grip as Peter absconded with my wife. “Pete’s the man of the hour right now. Your wife probably wants to, you know, show him some gratitude.”

    He and his pal broke out in laughter and the black bouncer joined in a well, wiping tears from his eyes as my wife and her hero went back into the lobby on the far side of the patio. The Hispanic bellhops were still there as well. They sure took long breaks around here.

    “Aww man, that’s fucked up,” one of the Mexicans told me. “Where’s that guy taking your wife?”

    “That’s, that’s none of your business,” I snapped irritably.

    “I think he’s gonna dick her again, man,” said the other bellhop, wagging his eyebrows at me.

    “No he’s not, I mean she said they were just horsing around in the hot tub before,” I stammered unconvincingly. “And now, and now, she just needs to calm down I guess. She had a stressful experience.” But I didn’t believe it myself and the two Mexicans just shook their heads and tisked at me.

    Peter’s two buddies went into the nightclub to have more drinks. The Mexicans wandered back into the lobby and the show was over.

    I stood there by myself thinking about Peter stripping my wife out of her wet shirt upstairs and my penis grew hard at the thought. It was then that I realized that I might be a tiny bit perverted. In spite of all the humiliation and jealousy, I had a raging hardon right now. I decided to go back to our room so that I could be alone with my thoughts for a while. I thought it might be best to masturbate a little while I considered the events of the evening.


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