Her hand stayed wrapped around his cock beneath the table, fingers slowly stroking through the fabric. Her touch was maddening—soft, steady, just enough to keep him painfully hard, desperate.
Mina leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, voice barely audible beneath the hum of the restaurant.
“Say it,” she whispered again. “Say you want your wife on her knees for him… bent over for him… in any position he wants.”
Her husband trembled beneath her hand. She could feel it—his restraint, the final thread of hesitation unraveling.
But she wasn’t done.
She gave him one final squeeze, then slid her fingers down to the button of his shorts.
He inhaled sharply, turning toward her, startled.
“Mina…” he whispered, glancing around the room, the other diners, the flickering candlelight.
She didn’t stop.
With a slow, deliberate motion, she popped open the button. Then her fingers found the zipper and tugged it down—quietly, smoothly—until the fabric parted and his cock sprang free into the warm shadows of her waiting hand.
He was rock hard. Throbbing.
She wrapped her hand around him, skin to skin now, the sensation even more electric than before.
Mina’s eyes stayed on his, her smile dangerous.
“I want to hear the word, baby,” she murmured as she began stroking him under the table, slow and tight. “Just say yes.”
He grunted softly, jaw clenched, hips twitching involuntarily with each stroke.
She leaned in closer, her voice dark and seductive, her hand never slowing.
“Because if you don’t… I might change my mind.”
She bit her lip, then brushed her lips against his ear.
“And I don’t think you want that. Not after how wet I am… not after how drunk I am…”
She exhaled, warm and sinful.
“I’m too wet. Too drunk to say no to him.”
He let out a ragged breath, one hand gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles whitened.
Mina gave him a firmer stroke, her thumb teasing the sensitive head of his cock.
“So just say it. Yes. That’s all I want to hear.”
Another slow stroke. His cock twitched in her grip.
Her lips hovered by his ear.
“One word… and I’ll let him use your wife.”
Getting The Answer She Needs…
Mina’s fingers moved slowly, purposefully, gliding up and down the length of his exposed cock beneath the table. The restaurant buzzed around them—laughter, clinking glasses, music floating on the Caribbean breeze—but for her husband, the world had narrowed to the feeling of her hand and the sound of her voice.
His cock pulsed in her grip. He was holding back by a thread.
And Mina knew it.
She leaned in closer again, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a wicked purr.
“You’re so hard for me right now,” she whispered, stroking tighter. “So hard thinking about your wife being used by him…”
She let her tongue flick briefly against his ear.
“Him and his big black cock.”
He tensed—visibly—and she smiled.
“You’ve always fantasized about it, haven’t you?” she breathed. “Your wife being stretched open by a thick, black cock… not just in your head anymore. Real. Inches thicker than you. Longer. Harder. And I’d let him take me…”
She gave him a slow stroke from base to tip, fingers teasing the sensitive head.
“You’d watch me beg for it. Watch him hold my hips down while he fucks me deep. Watch me open for him—moan for him…”
She felt him twitch in her hand, the pressure building fast.
“But what if I didn’t let you watch?”
He blinked, panting softly now.
Mina’s lips brushed his jawline as she whispered:
“What if I let him take me without you there? Would you still say yes, knowing he could do whatever he wanted to your wife? That he could take me any way he pleased… bend me over… fill me up… cum in me…”
She gave him a firmer stroke, her voice a slow drip of heat and venom.
“And you’d never even see it.”
His cock throbbed—harder than ever.
“I’d come back to our room smelling like him,” she whispered, dragging her fingers lower. “Sore from his cock. Dripping.”
He groaned—barely contained, barely breathing.
“You wouldn’t even know how many times he came in me.”
She stroked him harder now, faster, her palm gliding over the slick head as she leaned in close.
“All I’d tell you is that it was big. That it was black. And that I came harder than I ever have.”
And then, with one final squeeze, she moaned softly into his ear, “Cum for me.”
That did it.
His body locked up.
He gasped—low and sharp—and exploded in her hand, the orgasm tearing through him, intense and forbidden. She felt every pulse, every twitch, holding him through it, her hand never faltering.
She let him ride it out, her eyes locked on his face the entire time—watching as the wave overtook him, as the shame, lust, and pleasure all blurred into one breathless moment.
When it passed, he slumped slightly in his seat, chest rising and falling, utterly undone.
Mina leaned in, her hand still resting between his legs, warmth and slickness on her fingers.
She looked into his eyes—calm, steady, powerful.
And then, softly, almost lovingly, she asked:
“Do you want him to fuck me tonight?”
He stared at her, pupils wide, lips parted. Still in shock. Still trembling from the most taboo orgasm he’d ever had.
And then—he nodded.
“Yes.”
Her Decision Is Made…
The table was quiet now—at least on the surface. The soft hum of ocean breeze and low music continued around them, but between Mina and her husband, the air was crackling.
He sat back in his seat, still dazed, his body recovering from the orgasm she had just pulled from him under the table. His cock, still slick and half-exposed in his shorts, twitched again beneath the napkin he’d hurriedly thrown over his lap. And yet… he was already getting hard again.
Because Mina was glowing.
She was flushed, warm, and drunk with power.
And she couldn’t stop smiling.
Just then, the waiter returned—the waiter—holding a dessert menu and flashing the same casual grin he had earlier. But something in his expression flickered as he approached. Maybe he sensed it. Maybe he knew something had changed.
Mina sat upright, crossing her legs slowly, breasts rising high in her tight red dress.
“Hey,” she said with a soft laugh. “I just wanted to apologize again… for the drink.”
The waiter chuckled. “You’re all good, really. I’m used to getting wet on the job.”
Mina let the laugh linger a little longer this time, then gave him a look—sharp, direct.
Her husband watched silently from across the table, eyes locked on her, his napkin shifting slightly as his erection returned.
Mina tilted her head toward the waiter, lowering her voice. “Actually… can I tell you something?”
The waiter blinked. “Uh… sure?”
She leaned in—close. Close enough for only him to hear.
She glanced sideways at her husband, then locked eyes with the young man again, her lips near his ear now.
“I don’t know exactly how to say this,” she whispered, biting her lip, “but I’d… like something more tonight. With you.”
The waiter froze just slightly, eyes flicking down toward her cleavage, then back up to her face.
Mina continued, her tone low and steady. “When I spilled that drink on you and saw… everything through your pants, I couldn’t stop staring.”
He shifted on his feet, lips parting.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” she whispered. “You’re big. And I’m drunk. And I’m… worked up in a way I haven’t been in years.”
The waiter gave a nervous glance toward her husband, who sat completely still, watching them closely.
Mina followed his gaze, then leaned in even closer.
“He’s okay with it,” she said softly, reassuring him with a quick smile. “He wants it too.”
The waiter blinked again, processing. Breathing just a little faster now.
“I know this is probably insane,” she whispered, “but I haven’t felt this sexy in a long time. And if you’re up for it… I want you to take me.”
There was a pause—heavy, charged.
And then Mina leaned back slightly, eyes flicking between the waiter’s face and her husband’s. Her hand was still under the table, resting gently over her husband’s erection, her thumb slowly rubbing the tip through the napkin.
She smiled. Both men were speechless…
And she had never felt more powerful in her life.
“My Husband Doesn’t Need To Be There…”
The waiter stood frozen beside the table, dessert menu still in his hand, though clearly forgotten. Mina leaned in closer, her breath warm on his neck, her perfume subtle and intoxicating in the ocean breeze.
Her voice stayed low, smooth as silk.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” she whispered. “Just you and me.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“My husband doesn’t have to be there. He’s already… given me permission.”
She saw his lips part, just slightly. His confidence hadn’t faded—it had simply shifted. He wasn’t just being flirted with now. He was being chosen.
Mina smiled.
“He’d love to know it happened. He might even listen from the room. But this doesn’t have to be about him. I want you.”
She let that settle, then placed her hand gently on his hip. The menu wobbled in his grip.
“I want to feel what I saw through those pants earlier,” she murmured. “You’re big… aren’t you?”
He glanced around the restaurant instinctively, nervous, but the buzz of the crowd and the cover of music made their corner feel like its own world.
Mina’s hand slid lower—bold, unshaking—and brushed the front of his slacks. She found him already swelling beneath the fabric.
She pressed her palm against the growing bulge, rubbing him slowly, tenderly, like she was claiming it.
His breath hitched.
Mina kept whispering, her voice trembling now—not with hesitation, but need.
“I don’t want to wait long. You’ve got me so turned on… I can’t think straight.”
She rubbed him again—firmer now. The outline thickened in her hand.
“If you want me,” she said, barely audible now, “I’m yours tonight.”
The waiter blinked hard, swallowing, clearly trying to keep his composure.
Then Mina leaned in just a little closer, her lips nearly touching his ear.
“No condom,” she whispered.
His whole body stiffened—shocked. His eyes flicked to her, stunned.
Mina gave him a slow, wicked smile.
“I want to feel you. All of you. Every inch.”
Her hand moved with a little more urgency now, stroking through the fabric.
“I need to know what that big black cock feels like inside me.”
The words were out before she could even think to stop them.
And in that instant—she didn’t want to stop them.
The waiter exhaled, shaky, his hand gripping the edge of the table now. His eyes locked with hers.
He nodded.
Slowly.
Breathlessly.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I want that too.”
Mina pulled back, glowing with heat and triumph, the power still radiating off her as she glanced at her husband—who had seen everything.
His face was flushed… and he was fully hard again.
“You Wanted This…”
The waiter had stepped away after Mina’s whispered invitation, promising with a subtle nod that he’d be waiting. Her heart still thudded from how quickly it had all unraveled—and yet, it didn’t feel rushed. It felt inevitable.
She turned to her husband, who hadn’t said a word since she’d finished whispering. His face was a strange mix of awe, disbelief, and arousal—his body still betraying him with a persistent bulge beneath the table.
Mina leaned in close. Her voice, while soft, carried finality.
“I need the room key.”
He stared at her, not blinking.
She held out her hand.
“You won’t be joining us.”
His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket and placed the plastic keycard in her palm. She looked down at it—this small, weightless object—and felt its gravity.
It wasn’t just access to the room. It was permission.
Her hand closed over it slowly.
She leaned forward, lips brushing his cheek, her whisper feather-light:
“This is what you wanted after all… Tonight, your Albanian wife finally becomes a BBC hotwife.”
She pulled away, a small, unreadable smile on her lips.
Then she stood, heels clicking against the tile as she walked back toward the bar where the waiter now lingered. He turned as she approached, his smile returning, but more serious this time—hungrier, more aware of what was now in motion.
Without a word, she stepped in close, letting his hand settle lightly on her lower back… then lower still, until it cupped the curve of her ass.
She allowed it.
No—she wanted it.
She turned her head over her shoulder, locking eyes with her husband across the restaurant. She didn’t mouth a word. Just let him see.
And then, still looking at him, she reached back and grabbed the waiter’s hand, lacing her fingers with his.
She led him away.
Out of the restaurant.
Down the open-air walkway back toward the rooms.
The air was thick with tropical heat and the distant crash of waves. Mina walked in silence, her heart hammering in her chest, her body on fire.
But now that it was happening—actually happening—the fantasy was clashing with reality.
This wasn’t a game anymore. She wasn’t whispering dirty talk in bed. She wasn’t humoring her husband with half-played fantasies.
She was walking hand-in-hand with a stranger.
To her hotel room.
To let him do things to her that felt… unbecoming of a wife. Especially an Albanian wife.
What am I doing? she thought, chest tightening. What if he can’t handle this after? What if I can’t?
The shame flickered, followed by guilt. She could almost hear her mother’s voice in the back of her mind, could picture what the women in her family would say. That no husband, no man, should tolerate this.
But then she felt the strength of the waiter’s hand in hers. She saw the way he glanced down at her legs, at the sway of her hips, like he was undressing her in his mind. Her body pulsed, wetness already building again.
Why does this turn me on so much? she thought, her breath uneven.
Why do I want this?
She didn’t have an answer — Only heat. Only need.
And with every step closer to the room, the question mattered less and less.