ktmorrison
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A Wager With Sadie: 013
🕑 Added 2021-02-17 00:00:02 +0000 UTC
The fifth day was beautiful again; full sun, cloudless sky . . . but windy enough it kept him off the deck and from finishing his book—the wind chimes were making him batty with their hollow bamboo sound. He could have called housekeeping, or tried to take them down himself—or read inside . . . but instead, while Sadie was out running again on her own, he decided he would go to the gym.
No idea how Sadie managed to do it. They’d fucked four times in a row last night, then napped. They woke, skipped dinner and nibbled at some fruit and nuts they had in their villa, then they’d fucked again before bed time. Sleep had been deep and. soundless. He’d helped his wife get over the wall. The fourth time they’d fucked, she came hard. Just before bed, he’d brought her to a screeching orgasm too, and Sadie had raked her nails down his back so hard she’d left lines on him that he saw in the mirror this morning. His dick was sensitive and uncomfortable in his shorts, so when he’d woke to find Sadie gone, her running shoes missing, he marveled at his wife’s tenacity. Surely he’d beaten her kitty up pretty good last night, and sometimes when they did it too much, she’d be sore the next day. But it was her dedication to still getting her miles in despite their over-exertion last night that had him seeking the gym. That, and, of course, his wife’s reaction to retelling the story of how much she admired the body of the man she’d jerked off last night. She’d told him three times how much it turned her on to see Quan’s pearly load splat on his shimmering black abdomen.
***
The resort’s gym was a low-level compound of individual activity areas connected with pathways and roof-covered alcoves. First thing he did was get warmed up on one of the elliptical machines, a row of five of them, unoccupied, most sensible people like his wife out walking or jogging on the paths that extended like cloverleaf loops into the woods around the grounds of the resort. But it was air-conditioned and quiet and he liked the solitude, his feet in the pedals of the machine, the steady whomp-whomp-whomp of his feet spinning them in circles while his hands cranked on the handles.
In minutes he was sweating, his eyes out the window-wall looking to a thick, verdant forest dense with undergrowth and heavy with canopy. Thinking of Sadie then yesterday, running a path through terrain like that, a monkey throwing things at her. Thinking then of the things that happened later in the day.
It had been a weird night. He’d got what he wanted.
There’d always been a little spark in him, a snarky, competitive thing thinking of Sadie with other men. Never thought he would ever act on it. But somehow, the close companionship of his wife, the two of them alone and warm, swinging in a hammock so far from home, that togetherness provoking in him a feeling of safety, a feeling that maybe they could venture forth and do something like this.
And, yeah, he wanted it, but now it was done and he was left struggling with the aftermath. It’s not that he loved her any less or thought any less of her. It was wondering what she thought of him.
Of course she still loved him, it was crazy to think Sadie didn’t. She would never have done that thing he asked for if it wasn’t because she loved him.
So what was it that still bothered him? After fifteen minutes running in place, feet going around in ellipses, maybe he had it figured out: What he hated the most was her being away from him. When he hated the most was that she’d gone off with that guy.
He understood she was joking, could see the humor in it. Going off with Quan and thinking nothing would happen. But then it did happen. And the part that stuck with him more than that she’d actually done the thing he’d wanted, was that she’d done it so far away. Clear on the other side of the bay.
What he wanted was a more direct connection to the act. Wanted for her to do it, then run right back into his arms. It was the waiting and the not-knowing that’d almost killed him yesterday.
But he’d felt so alive. And when she’d come back to him . . .? Oh golly, he felt like he could move mountains, just with the love beating from his heart and pumping through his muscles; he’d never felt anything like that before. It’d hurt. Boy, did it hurt. Why did he like that it hurt? It was a puzzle indeed.
But now it was done, and what the hell, his time with her last night had been amazing. Taking her in the villa, not saying a word. Then listening to her words, feeling her hand on him, knowing she had been with another man. Been intimate with him. Provided pleasure. And she’d been aroused by it. There was no denying it. If she’d gone off with a different man, joking around with her husband like she’d do it, some heavyset guy with white chest hairs, Sadie never would’ve followed through. With Quan, she followed through.
And why was that? His body. He was smart, too, and Teddy bet he was probably pretty charming. It was easy to be charming when you were tall and handsome and built that way. Shoot, anything that guy said a girl would probably giggle at.
Shit, now he had to get off the elliptical before his erection grew large enough to be seen through shorts. He was alone, but still . . .
***
He stepped out from the air conditioning onto a baked hot pathway, and headed through a manicured garden, still in the area designated for the gym. The path came to a Y, the fork marked with a signpost. Printed on lacquered wooden signs affixed to the post: left for the jungle gym, right for the weights.
He had to get in shape again. That was for sure. Just hearing from Sadie that she’d run her hands all over Quan and that she liked it, made him want to be that way for her. Wanted for Sadie to look forward to putting her hands on him.
Yes, he could lift weights again, but he was too smart to dive in today, end up in traction for the rest of the vacation. So instead he turned left at the Y, headed along the path that led to the jungle gym.
At the back of the jungle gym section was the elevated wooden platform where Sadie had participated in Quan’s yoga class. Empty now, no class going on at the moment, he used the the jungle gym set up, which he also had all to himself. There were places to do pull-ups, stretches of monkey bars, angle boards to perform incline sit ups or whatnot, a tractor tire to flip—stay away from that, that was traction for sure—there were platforms, eight-feet tall, like teepees, and he climbed them by holding onto a rope, and then heaving himself over the other side, then climbing down. All body weight resistance for the most part.
Half an hour in there, he was huffing and puffing, skin shining with sweat. But he felt awake and wide-eyed and electric, heart pumping, muscles full. He just wasn’t a runner. Sadie could run, but running wasn’t for everybody. This would be his thing. And half a year from now, Sadie probably couldn’t wait to get home and climb into bed with him. She would be hot for her husband’s body.
Would they ever do that thing again? Would he send her to do it right next time?
It was hard to say; Sadie might say yes, she might say no. But he was starting to think if it was the right guy—if he did his homework—Sadie would say yes. Oh, she put on the act, the good girl act: gosh, no I couldn’t! But with some gentle nudging, some gameplay and sly contender selection, maybe they could do it again right next time.
It was coming back along the path heading to the air-conditioned ramp-way that would lead to the spa section of the resort that he ran into Quan.
***
They met at the Y intersection, Teddy coming from the jungle gym, Quan and some other guy coming from the weights. Quan and the other guy were speaking in good old American English, the other man Asian. Possibly Vietnamese, Teddy wasn’t sure, but definitely American and probably another one of the fitness instructors or yoga people. The guy was fit, muscular, though nowhere near as impressive as his Black and quarter-Vietnamese friend, Quan. Quan’s muscles bulged from whatever it was he’d been doing in the weight section, black skin shining practically like chrome.
Teddy paused at the Y intersection to let the two guys get ahead of him, both of them nodding to him, saying Hey in their American accents, and then he followed behind.
Both of them talked with her hands, laughing, sometimes the Asian guy would punch Quan’s arm and they would laugh some more. Dude stuff. Bro stuff. They followed the path, getting into the walkway area now, Quan stopping and holding the door for Teddy.
“Hey, thanks.”
“No problem.”
And now he was ahead of them, shaking his head. That was the guy that his wife had spent the day with. He might even be taller than Teddy. Six-three, maybe. But Jesus, the muscles. The volume . . . Sadie had put her hands all over that man. No wonder she couldn’t stop herself.
While in his heart he knew it had been a bad idea to send her off, it still made him feel so damn good. But shit, she wasn’t into it at all. Had thought it was stupid. Then up on that yoga platform, spending half an hour moving her body around and watching Quan move his body around, all of a sudden she’s game? You knew where that was coming from. It wasn’t Teddy she was doing it for. If she was doing it for him, he could’ve pointed out whoever and she would do it. But that wasn’t the case. No, sir. She said no. All of a sudden, she finds the right guy . . .
Now he was holding the door for them, all three of them heading into the men’s change area.
Quan said, “Hey, thanks, man.”
A quick and easy reply from Teddy: “No problem.”
Now he was behind them again.
The men’s change room wasn’t a big space. Window wall on the far end only fifteen-feet away, looking out into the same forest he’d watched from the elliptical machines. The fifteen-foot space was divided with a waist-high half-wall, and some potted plants. Quan and the other guy went around the half-wall, and he took the bench nearest. But he could overhear them. He could overhear the ding of a phone. He sat down, taking his shoes off.
The whole plan had been some cardio, some time at the jungle gym apparatus, maybe do some more cardio—he’d skipped that now—come back and sauna, shower, see what Sadie was up to, see if she’d like like to join him for a green coffee scrub session where they lay you out on the massage bed rub your body down. Smooth away the knots of effort from their fuck session last night.
But he’d walked right past those elliptical machines, leading Quan this way. Expecting Quan and his friend to go to the locker room. He was spying.
And yes, here it was happening. Spy craft paying off. Wanting to know more about Quan and Sadie, and now learning way way way too much . . .
***
Quan presented his phone to his friend, showing him the screen. “See. Told you.”
The phone was too close for his friend to read, and he reared his head back. He read what was there, said, “That’s that woman, the hockey one?”
“Keeps texting me like I told you.”
The Asian guy said, “The woman’s thirsty.”
Quan agreed, taking off his T-shirt, throwing it on the bench. “We had a good day. Shit, she is beautiful.”
The Asian guy agreed. “Yeah, I saw her.”
Teddy’s heart pounded with the threat of betrayal.
Now Quan picked up his phone, was silent for a moment, thumbs typing out a text. Talking to Sadie. Talking to his wife.
Quan waited, put the phone down. It dinged, he picked it back up again. He chuckled.
His Asian friend said, “She can’t get enough of you.”
Teddy chewed his cheek, his skull hollowing out, his vision fading but his focus like dark lasers on the tile floor, his thoughts crystallizing on the possibility Sadie would betray him with Quan. Sneaking out of bed this morning, pretending to run, but all his wife wanted to do was get her hands on Quan again. Maybe more than hands. Maybe the thing she’d held yesterday just needed to be inside her.
Quan pushed his shorts down, his back to Teddy. Now the guy was naked. Teddy saw him from the small of the back up, vision shaking with his heavy thudding heartbeat, now picturing Sadie with her hands smoothing over all that sweaty, glistening muscle.
The idea of the thrill she might feel touching a man that looked like that, got his heart hammering harder.
Now he was taking his own shirt off, moving dumbly, arms stiff, standing up and pushing his shorts down. Quan wrapped a towel around his waist, his friend doing the same, the guy much smaller but packed also with muscle, a midsection stacked with abs. Teddy then rubbing a hand on his soft stomach. Not fat, not by any means, but still. There’d been a time just a few years ago, he remembered, Sadie really appreciated his body. But his physical trajectory was not a good one.
Quan was saying to his friend now: “I’m going to meet up with her again.”
His friend said, “She’s married?”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t seem concerned with it.”
They both chuckled portentously and touched knuckles, then strolled out of their locker room alcove toward the window wall, turned right and headed to the sauna. That’s where Teddy was already going.
Now he was hustling to catch up. Not wanting to miss anything that might be said about his wife.
Would they talk about Sadie’s hand job? Would Quan tell his friend how amazing Sadie was at giving a hand job?
And then he stopped in the hall, Quan ahead, holding the sauna door open for his friend, then both of them disappearing into the sauna room.
What if he heard more?
What if he heard something he didn’t like?
What if the man said that they done a lot more? Her mouth, what if he said that he’d come in her mouth?
“God,” he said, thumping a fist on a rattan mat hanging on the wall. “No, no, no.”
How about something worse than that?
Telling his friend how tight Sadie’s married pussy was. Saying how she cried out his name in the swirling eddy, saying Quan, Quan, Quan, crying it out so loud the birds flew up from the forest canopy into the sky . . .
Comments
Wess
Love the texting behind hubby's back and the eavesdropping. Sneaky hookup next or is she too sweet?
Bwood
Great twist KT!
RCH
The question is did Quan get his dick wet this morning?
Chinookfan72
i certainly hope it’s not a dream or his imagination. This story is starting to get good. A hand job on a stranger with your husband’s permission is pretty lows stakes.
Tim ziegler
A wet dream?
RCH
I sense a tear in the space time continuum...
Tracey52
I think it’s just his imagination.
