EROTIC NET

"Don't choke," Svetlana said with a smile when I involuntarily followed with my eyes the slender girl with a high bust who walked past our table.

"What?"

"I said, don't choke, or a piece will get stuck in your throat. You looked at her so greedily that I couldn't help but comment."

"A beautiful girl," I agreed. "But you're better."

"A beautiful couple," Svetlana confirmed.

I looked again in the direction of the girl who had passed by; she placed a plate of fruit on the table where a young, athletic man was sitting.

We saw them again on the tennis court when we went for a little

exercise in the evening. My wife and I hardly ever played real tennis, but here at the all-inclusive hotel, we trained a little every evening to stay in shape and not gain weight. That couple had just finished their game, yielding the court to us.

Then we met them the next evening on the same court. The administrators had mixed something up, and our playing times coincided.

"We'll have to play as a foursome," the man suggested and extended his hand. "Let's get acquainted. Igor, and this is my wife, Lyuba."

"Very nice! Timur and Sveta."

"Well, then? Pair against pair? Since fate has brought us together like this."

We went to opposite sides of the net.

"What are we playing for?" Igor asked. "Strip tennis?"

"But there are people around," Svetlana said, embarrassed.

"Then for kisses. Agreed?"

"Agreed," I answered for both of us, hoping to kiss the beautiful young woman, and we started playing. I won't say the opponents were much stronger, but we quickly lost. Igor approached the net, leaned his racket against it, and spread his arms for a hug. Svetlana approached and offered her cheek.

"Uh-uh, no, if we're kissing, then let's kiss properly," Igor said with a laugh and, embracing my wife tightly, pressed his lips to hers in a prolonged kiss. We lost the second set too, and again Igor pressed his lips to hers in a kiss. She didn't resist; moreover, she soon hugged him with one arm.

The situation began to anger me. Realizing that anger only hinders in the game, I tried to relax. We won the third set. Now it was my turn to kiss someone else's wife. Lyuba leaned her racket, hugged me with both arms, offered her lips, and soon her little tongue was seeking mine. She kissed passionately and skillfully. I glanced sideways to see my wife's reaction. She was watching us attentively, and it was noticeable that this sight, if not arousing her, clearly amused her.

Then we won again, and again I kissed Lyuba. Our kiss was so passionate that my shorts bulged noticeably.

"Well, what do you say, shall we play strip tennis now?" Igor suggested. "Everyone's gone, so no one can see us."

"Let's do it," Lyuba supported him.

"The losing pair removes one item of clothing each. Shoelaces, watches, bracelets, and earrings don't count. Only clothing," Igor clarified.

We lost within minutes. My arousal was a factor; my thoughts were more occupied with the anticipation of seeing our court opponent naked. Svetlana, apparently, remained under the impression of the hot kisses with Igor. I took off my T-shirt; Svetlana removed her skirt, remaining in her T-shirt and thong.

We lost the next set too. My wife had to remove her T-shirt; I took off my shorts. Now we were in thongs and swim trunks playing against dressed opponents. Apparently, Svetlana's firm, size-three breasts aroused Igor, and they also quickly lost twice in a row. Now we were equally undressed.

"To avoid sparking a family conflict over losing, I suggest swapping partners," Igor said. "The losing team pays for dinner."

"But we have 'all-inclusive,'" Svetlana said.

"I forgot. Then the winning pair gets to make a wish that the losers must fulfill."

"Just not a naked run around the resort," Lyuba laughed, "or we'll get arrested for disturbing public order."

"Agreed," Igor agreed.

Lyuba moved to my side of the court; Svetlana walked around the net and stood on the other half.

"We request a five-minute timeout for a briefing," Igor asked.

After finishing the briefing, Igor took his place and served. The game began. I kept glancing at Lyuba's breasts, bouncing firmly with her runs and jumps, looked at my undressed wife, and constantly missed balls, failing to react in time. Igor also made mistakes from time to time, but nevertheless, Lyuba and I lost.

"So, how should we punish you?" Igor said thoughtfully, drawing out the phrase. Then he whispered with Svetlana and announced, "As the winners, we declare another set with partner swapping. You continue to remain one team for the evening. We, naturally, are the other team. Meet at 9 p.m. at the corner table; I'll reserve it. And now—home. Our team goes to our room, yours goes to Timur and Sveta's room to shower and get ready for dinner."

"But what about dresses, makeup bags, and everything else?" Lyuba objected.

"I didn't think of such a detail. Then, right now, you take everything you need from your former rooms and return to your teams."

When I, after Lyuba, took a shower and also came out of the bathroom wearing a robe, Lyuba was finishing her makeup.

"Well, how do I look to you?"

"Stunning!" I didn't lie because Lyuba truly was a beauty, and the half-unbuttoned robe, barely covering the hemispheres of her breasts, made her devilishly sexy.

"Then I want you to confirm your compliment with a kiss."

Who would object? We kissed standing for several minutes, and I already had the bold thought to push her onto the sofa and try to advance our relationship further.

"And what do you think our spouses are doing right now?" Lyuba asked, pulling away from my lips, without removing her hands from my neck, which she was tightly wrapping.

"I don't know," I suddenly answered confusedly, in the presence of a beautiful woman, completely forgetting about my wife, who was in the next room alone with someone else's husband.

"Do you think they are still just kissing, or have they already allowed themselves something more?"

And without letting me say anything, she asked:

"Have you been swinging for long?"

"What for long?" I didn't understand the question.

"Swinging. You know, swapping partners."

"Ah, no, we haven't gotten to that level yet."

"Haven't yet," Lyuba laughed. "I think Igor has already laid your wife on the bed. Want to see what they're up to? I also have a plastic key to our room. Let's go, I'm curious to look myself."

The thought that my wife was now in bed with another man, strangely, didn't outrage me but aroused me. I suddenly felt as if I had drunk a solid dose of alcohol.

"So, are we going to watch? You know, I really like watching others have sex."

"Do you think they're having sex?"

"Are you jealous?"

"I don't know... It seems it arouses me more than it causes feelings of jealousy or annoyance."

"And do you like watching others?"

"Haven't had the chance."

"Well, for example, do you like watching Sveta masturbate?"

"She's shy about doing it in front of me."

"But she does do it!"

"To be honest, I don't know. But I think she does."

"She does, she does," Lyuba assured. "Like any normal woman. So, are we going? But first, another kiss."

We kissed again for quite a long time, even without breaking our embrace, lay down on the wide bed, I exposed Lyuba's right breast and began touching the nipple with the tip of my tongue.

"Enough, enough, enough, or we'll never leave. Everything later," she promised, freed herself from the embrace, stood up, adjusted the robe. "So, are we going to watch our spouses? What are they amusing themselves with? It's almost time for dinner." We quietly entered the next room. Through the half-open bedroom door, I saw that my wife was completely naked, lying on the bed with her legs wide apart and bent at the knees, and Igor was positioned between her legs, performing cunnilingus on her.

"Want to watch more, or shall we go?" Lyuba whispered almost inaudibly. "I'm already completely ready too."

"You can fantasize the rest," Lyuba said when we went out into the corridor and softly closed the door to their room behind us. As soon as we, dropping our robes on the go in our room, collapsed onto the bed, embraced each other in hot hugs, and began kissing passionately, dull thuds of the headboard of the bed, loosened by previous sexually liberated guests, against the common wall between our rooms sounded.

"It's on," Lyuba whispered. "In about five minutes, he'll come in her mouth. He always does that."

In my imagination, a picture immediately arose of my Lyuba sitting on the edge of the bed, and streams of semen splashing onto her face, onto her lips, then she takes the head with her full lips and begins to lick it. In five years of living together, Lyuba had done this for me only a few times, being quite tipsy after holidays.

Then she would ask if I liked it, I would answer that I did very much, that I would like to experience such pleasure more often, but she would only provide it on the next holiday. This picture brought me to a state of extreme arousal; I not very delicately entered Lyuba and immediately took a furious pace, afraid of finishing before my partner but at the same time unwilling to slow down. The dull thuds of the headboard against the wall spurred me on, and I was already about to finish when Lyuba beat me to it, bit her lip, and silently began thrusting hard against me, with each of my movements, trying to impale herself even deeper.

And then, just as silently, she threw her legs over my back, pressed me hard with her hands, and began to climax. Then she freed herself, ducked under me, took my fighter with both hands, wrapped her hot, dry-from-arousal lips around him, and I immediately poured out thick nectar.

"Don't tell Sveta anything about what happened here with us, and don't admit that you saw what they were doing. You can tell her sometime later, but not now. It might cause her feelings of guilt and inflict psychological trauma that will be hard to smooth over later. We were just sitting and talking, they supposedly—too."

Dinner was wonderful. The invited theater troupe performed a play based on some local legends in very bright, gold-embroidered costumes adorned with semi-precious stones. The actors spoke little, and they spoke in their own language, so we didn't understand anything; we could only gather that it was some legend about the abduction of a beauty by an evil monster and her liberation by a handsome guy who immediately married the girl freed from captivity. Then there was dancing; all evening, I danced with my wife only twice; the rest of the time, she was with Igor. He was saying something to her, and she was laughing happily.

"Not jealous?" Lyuba kept asking.

"No, it doesn't bother me; on the contrary, it attracts me."

"I see," Lyuba answered and pressed her firm body closer to me, causing a new wave of desire to possess this sexually liberated woman.

We each slept in our own rooms. Despite the fact that I had released into Lyuba before dinner, Svetlana and I had amazing sex. After it, I still asked:

"And what were you and Igor doing for so long?"

"Oh, just talking."

"Kissing?"

"Are you jealous?"

"On the contrary."

"We kissed."

"Lying on the bed?"

"Well, you would say that too!"

"So, lying?" I insisted.

"Well, let's say lying, because it's much more comfortable than sitting in armchairs."

"And did he kiss your breasts, stroke between your legs?"

"Well, why are you asking such questions? I'm not asking whether you kissed lying down or sitting."

"We were lying down too," I confessed. "And then he kissed your breasts, caressed between your legs with his lips, and you caressed his risen flesh with your lips," I whispered, aroused to the limit again. Lyuba wanted to say something, but I covered her mouth with a kiss, lay on top, and we again raced to the peak of pleasure. This time, I wanted to finish like Igor.

Feeling that I was about to have an orgasm, I rose with one jerk, moved forward, placed the head against my wife's lips, and began to masturbate very quickly. As soon as the first drop squeezed out, Svetlana took the head into her mouth and began gently sucking out the already considerably depleted contents of my testicles after two sessions.

When I lay down next to her, spent, she said:

"How restless you are today. Based on this, I believe you and Lyuba didn't have sex."

"It's just that for some reason, I imagined you having sex with Igor, and that aroused me. And here's the result," I whispered in response.

"You were aroused that I could have been with Igor?" my wife marveled.

"Imagine, yes! So, were you with him?"

"Silly!" she evaded the answer and kissed me passionately on the lips.

We met our new friends only after lunch because we went on an excursion. We ran into them at the bar, where we stopped to have some cold juice after the trip.

"Well, what do you say, playing as pairs again today?" Igor asked.

"I'm completely worn out today," Svetlana began to refuse. "You won't believe it, but all my muscles have been aching since yesterday. I could barely move my legs on the excursion."

"That's nonsense!" Igor assured. "We'll go now, give you a massage, and everything will pass."

"Oh, not that!" Svetlana protested. "I got a massage on the first day, and then my whole body ached for two days."

"I'll give you a massage myself. I haven't learned Thai; no one does it better than the Thais themselves anyway. I'll give you a relaxing one. I even have the appropriate diploma."

"It's true, he gives a great massage," Lyuba confirmed. "All my girlfriends are just crazy about his massages."

"I don't even know," Svetl