Tourism Trio: An Interracial/Cuckold Story
By
Lane Masters
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Smashwords Edition
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Copyright 2012 by Lane Masters
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales is purely coincidental. This material is intended for mature audiences only.
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Trisha glanced at her husband, Riley, and shook her head. He sat at the other end of the hotel bar, cell phone clutched to his ear, a look of utter frustration on his face. Trish’s expression was grim, reflecting her uneasy feeling that he would not be able to pull this one off. He could be a bit…incompetent, sometimes, and Trisha thought tonight might be one of those nights, a night where everything just went wrong.
Until the tall, handsome African American guy walked into the room. Trish eyed him up and down, from the top of his dark head, down broad, strong shoulders that looked like they belonged on a football player. His stomach was lean, and Trisha was willing to bet that the t-shirt he wore was hiding a mega-six-pack of abs. Narrow hips and strong, long legs completed the very sexy package. Her eyes drifted back up to find the warm and friendly face smiling knowingly in her direction. His eyes were stunning, and she realized he was probably rather used to the attention, but then, so was she. Trisha knew that her naturally blond hair, rather delicate looking face with its perky nose and rosy lips, and her full, round breasts with perfect cleavage tended to catch men’s eyes. And she had never been afraid to use her…assets…to her advantage.
The guy took a step toward her, and that “This-is-the-Guy” feeling started flip-flops in her stomach. For a second, she could not breathe, but she mentally gave herself a shake, bringing herself back to reality. Nevertheless, the nervous little butterflies, as well as the beginnings of an adrenaline rush, did not settle down.
The man sauntered over to the bar, a cocky confidence in every step. Trish turned and pretended to ignore him at first, letting him catch a glimpse of her smooth back and bare shoulders. One strong, chocolate hand settled there, and she turned to him, her eyebrows raised at his complete forwardness. “May I buy you a drink?” His voice flowed like honey, smooth and warm, and Trisha actually felt herself shiver.
She gave him her most sultry smile, eyes somewhat lidded with her best come hither expression. “I think I would like that very much,” she replied.
The bourbon and Coke on the rocks and the icy mojito were ordered up in short time, and before Trisha knew it, she was clinking glasses with the handsome heart-throb. “My name is Brian,” he said, his dark eyes locking with her baby blues, and she felt her heart jump with just his words.
“I’m Trisha,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “So where is a big guy like you from?” Barely managing to hide a tremor in the flirty lilt of her voice, she ran one red polished fingernail down his muscular arm, all the way to the sensitive flesh of his wrist, where she began to trace circles on his skin.
Brian smiled and turned his hand over to capture her hand in his palm. One long finger stroked her palm, and a tell-tale line of goose bumps popped up, sprinkling her arm. He chuckled. “I’m from Chicago. And yourself?”
“Oh, I’m actually from not far from here. Jacksonville is about 5 hours straight east.”
“I guess that makes you almost a local, compared to me.”
“Well, I had never been here before, and I had always heard the “Emerald Shores” were beautiful, so we hopped in our car, headed to Fort Walton, and here we are.”
“We?”
Trisha sighed pitifully. “See that scrawny guy at the end of the bar there?” Brian nodded and glanced back at her.
“Well, I hate to admit it, but he’s my husband. My very incompetent, idiot of a husband.”
“I see.” The look on Brian’s face was obvious disappointment. Apparently, he had not anticipated a husband being involved in his evening’s activities. But curiosity prodded him. “What did he do that was so bad?”
Trisha shook her head. “He managed to drive us all the way here without realizing that he had left his wallet and the hotel confirmation at home. I had just enough cash on me for dinner and a couple of drinks. So it looks like we are headed right back to the car for another five hours on the road.” She sighed again. “I was so looking forward to playing on the beach tomorrow. I bought a brand new string bikini just for the occasion.”
Then Trisha fixed Brian with her most seductive smile. “I really hate the idea of being stuck in a car for five more hours with him. I bet I could figure out a much more entertaining way to spend the time.” Her fingers were back to stroking Brian’s arm, but then she boldly transferred her hand to his thigh, leaving no question about her ambitions.
“Well, if you didn’t have your husband with you, I bet you would have no trouble finding someone who would be more than happy to share his bed for the evening.”