Tanned and Gangbanged: A Vacation Twist

Winter had been brutal for Emily. She’d battled a severe illness, followed by a deep depression that seemed endless. By spring, she was finally on the mend, and I decided we deserved a proper celebration come summer. I went all out, booking us into a top-tier luxury hotel on the coast. The place was a dream – breathtaking views, a private beach, a pool, golf courses, tennis courts, a sauna, an incredible dining room, and rooms loaded with every amenity imaginable. Pure bliss. The first three days were unforgettable. We made love as often as we could, and trust me, that was a lot – we had a lot of pent-up hunger to satisfy.

On the fourth day, though, something was off. I felt inexplicably weak, and we couldn’t have sex. The only thing that stirred me was watching my wife shower at the beachside rinse station. She was modest, maybe too much so, wearing a simple navy one-piece that wasn’t particularly revealing. But as she rinsed off, facing a group of guys playing volleyball, she started running her hands over her body in a way that… well, let’s just say it caught their attention. Emily’s a stunning woman: dark-haired, now with a golden tan, firm breasts that turn heads, shapely legs, and a gorgeous backside.

I think she enjoyed feeling watched, desired again. When she came back to me (I prefer the sauna showers around noon when it’s empty – a chance to sweat it out before cleaning up and eating), I noticed her swimsuit had gone sheer. My stares tipped her off, and she flushed red, wrapping herself in her green towel like she’d been caught stealing.

The next day, I figured out why I’d been off – a stomach bug hit me hard. I couldn’t join her at the beach, so I stayed on our balcony with binoculars, taking in the view. That beach seemed made for perfect bodies, and there were plenty to choose from. Emily set up in her usual spot, but this time she’d finally tried on a sleek string bikini. After a swim, the volleyball guys approached her. I couldn’t hear them, but she was laughing a lot. She headed to the shower, and they clearly enjoyed the show. When she turned back, I decided to head to the sauna to surprise her. Seeing those guys flirt with her, admire her – it had turned me on.

I got to the locker room, stripped down, and wrapped a towel around myself. Voices drifted in. Peeking into a small side room, I saw her sitting there in her towel, surrounded by the six beach guys, all chatting lively. It pissed me off a bit – I’d been planning some wild, reckless sex now that I was feeling better. She was on a bench, two guys beside her, four sprawled on the floor in front, all young, athletic, radiating that fresh energy, circling my wife and talking about random stuff. Emily asked their ages. The oldest was 22, the youngest 19. They were loosening up, getting bolder.

“If I were your husband, I wouldn’t let you hit the beach alone,” one said.

“Oh? And why’s that?” she replied, teasing.

“Because you’re too hot.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but I can handle myself.”

“We all agree,” another piped up. “The worst part about leaving tomorrow is we won’t get to see you shower anymore.”

Emily was loving it. She played coy, but I could tell she was thrilled to be the center of their attention, causing six obvious hard-ons. It made sense – her bare shoulders and legs could drive anyone wild. I’m not sure if it was on purpose, but she uncrossed her legs at one point, and the four on the floor gaped.

The guy on her left, the boldest one, had been stroking her hair, saying it was gorgeous. When he kissed her neck, she snapped at him, reminding him she was married and not okay with it. He apologized, looking genuinely sorry. She softened, saying she overreacted, and he admitted he couldn’t help himself – she was the most beautiful, arousing woman he’d ever seen.

One of the guys on the floor got brave. “Would it bother you if I jerked off right here?” She didn’t know how to respond, so he slid his hand under his towel, and it started moving fast. The other three on the floor followed suit. Emily’s face was flushed, her breathing quick. The two beside her joined in. The bold guy on her right ditched his robe, showing off his slick, hard cock. The others did the same. Six dicks being worked, all eyes locked on my wife. Well, seven, because I was just as caught up.

“Could you show us something?” one asked.

She tugged her towel up, revealing more thigh. Their hands sped up, and she could tell they liked it. She pulled the top down a bit, stopping just above her breasts, hands covering them. I was shocked at her daring.

The bold guy yanked her towel off, leaving her naked. Emily tried to cover up, but it was no use. The guys were too worked up – they stopped jerking off and started grabbing at her. She struggled, telling them to stop, but it only fueled them. Their polite chatter turned crude, hostile: “You get us all horny and now you want us to quit? You want action, you’re getting it, slut.”

Her resistance faded when one of the floor guys went down on her. They forced her to bend over, shoving two cocks in her mouth. She took them with little fight. The guy below kept at her pussy, another moved behind to rim her. The last two groped her breasts from the sides.