Devil In The Waters, Book 6, Chapter 7 (part 2) (Patreon)

While he was mixing them fresh Cuba Libres, he fantasized about what Kimmy would do with him next. This was unbelievable. This was some sort of cognitive behavioral therapy. His wife had sexualized his fear of Devlin. And never in a million years would he have ever thought it could be so fucking thrilling. His stomach muscles tensed, his heart beat hard. And, he might not have too bad a plump bulge in his swim trunks if they got wet—his dick was half hard. And that was just from the idea that Kimmy would even engage in this play, not yet the play itself.

He rushed the drinks, barely measuring the rum, then moving quickly to return to the sliding glass door excited but afraid to see what Kimmy had prepared for him.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Kimmy was displaying herself for her handsome boss. Her perky butt leaned against the back of a chair, her hands over the top of the curved chair rail. She faced Devlin, her chin tilting, her pretty face turned toward Devlin. Her deep black hair gleamed. She was displaying to Devlin how beautiful she was. How flat her stomach was. Her perfect, creamy skin. The tone of her lean muscle and the slenderness of her joints and the grace of her long neck.

The sight of his wife like that drove him wilder than he’d ever felt for her before. His temples throbbed from an erotic ache.

Now he wished Devlin weren’t here, and he would go out now and he knew that Kimmy would let him do anything to her body he wanted. She was his. Absolutely his.

But that would ruin this play. Imagine how he felt right now multiplied by every passing minute she spent teasing him in front of Devlin. . . . The two of them in on the joke on that piece of shit together. The two of them turning his high school bully on his ear. The more he was bullied right now, the better it would be for him—because Kimmy would reward him with sex when Devlin’s big, dumb, musclebound ass was out of here.

He slid open the door, slid it close with an elbow. “Fresh drinks,” he said, crossing to them like he didn’t have a care in the world. He passed Kimmy her drink, then tapped his glass to hers. “Shall we go swimming, baby?”

“It’s about time,” Devlin said.

Kimmy joked with Devlin. “You got somewhere else to be?”

“I’m at your whim today, counselor?”

See? . . . Their interplay was riling him even further. Kimmy was doing this for his benefit.

Kimmy said, “You’re a guest in my villa.”

“You don’t think you’re on the clock today?”

“I know I’m not on the clock today,” she said, never breaking her smile.

The two of them engaging in banter like this began to worry at his stomach. Was this what they were like when they were alone together? The two of them being cute, making jokes, trying to rip on each other, looking for leverage at the other one’s expense. In close quarters. In Devlin’s luxury Mercedes. At the Royal York. . . . Was Devlin always working on Kimmy? Was Devlin always trying to get in Kimmy’s pants? . . . 

Josh said, “I guess I’ll lead the way,” and walked around them, feeling bolder the more this went on. Feeling like they could actually do this crazy thing together. If Kimmy ever had some crazy kink, he would love to do for her what she was doing for him right now.

With them behind, he turned left to the path that would take them to the center of the estate’s compound where there was a forty-foot pool with waterslide and landscaped waterfall.

Kimmy said, “Josh, let’s go down to the ocean.”

He turned to see them both standing at the trail’s intersection, Kimmy pointing downward to where they had a private spot of beach together.

“Good idea,” Devlin said. “Way more private. We don’t have to sit with people we don’t like.” His eyes moved toward Josh’s, Josh smiled at him.

Yeah. We don’t like each other.

Josh said, “Whatever you guys want.” Laissez-faire, cool, unperturbed.

Meanwhile, everything inside him was twisted and rolling in tightening knots. It was turning to see them together again that renewed the tight internal angst. Kimmy and Devlin standing together, choosing the path where they would all head. Kimmy standing in the skimpiest of bikinis. Devlin next to her, revealing all that skin. The two of them close . . . 

“Makes sense,” he said.

Kimmy and Devlin went ahead, and began to descend the trail in front of him as he trailed behind. Kimmy was in the lead, walking carefully in her flip-flops down the beaten path, the bright Caribbean water up ahead. Her slim figure was provocative. Her bikini bottoms were smaller than underwear. He watched the taut jiggle of her perfect butt cheeks as she moved on her toes down the path. And Devlin was in front of him.

A quick glance at Devlin revealed his head angled directly toward Kimmy’s incredible ass.

Josh’s hand formed a fist, and he pressed it against his bellybutton. He gritted his teeth. The feelings Kimmy was provoking in him were overwhelming. She’d never looked more beautiful, more alluring or sexual. How did he end up with her? Devlin’s words could make sense. Had he taken Kimmy for granted?

No. . . . They were in this together.

Down at the waterside, Kimmy tossed her towel on one of the two loungers and set her rum and coke on the wide flat arm rest. Devlin walked around her, unabashedly ogling, then stepped into the water up to mid-calf. He looked to the left and around to the right. They were the last villa at the end of a line, and the shore at the estate extended in a crescent. It meant their spot was secluded. Even if the residents of the neighboring villa would come down to spend time at the water’s edge, they would be about fifty feet ahead, their backs to them.

Kimmy turned to wait for him, smiling. As they got closer, she whispered, “How’s it going?”

He got close and whispered, “You’re driving me crazy,” and pecked her on the lips. She chuckled and tapped her fingers against his bare side. The feel of that graceful hand on his skin was bringing him to full hardness again. Up and down, up and down—his cock was getting a real workout this afternoon.

He set down his drink on the chair next to Kimmy’s, claiming it. Too bad for Devlin there were no seats left. Oh, well . . . 

He called out to Devlin: “How long you been coming here?”

Devlin idly kicked his legs through the water, his muscular arms hanging at his sides. “A few years, I guess.”

“And how long has your dad had it?”

Devlin’s smile flickered, knowing what Josh was doing. He nodded once.

“That I don’t know,” he said, “Josh, but I’ve been here a few times when I was a teenager. What’s that, fifteen years maybe—why? You in the market for a place in the Caribbean?”

“Not at all,” he said. “We’ve got this one,” and smirked Kimmy’s way. Kimmy gave him a warning glance. He recalled her words issued to him many times: Don’t forget he’s my boss.

Devlin said, “If your wife keeps making me happy like she is, you guys can come down here as much as you want.”

Making you happy. “She saved your ass.”

“That what she told you?”

Kimmy said, “I would never put it that way.”

“She just told me what happened.”

“I can’t take anything away from how well Kimmy’s doing. She makes coming to work every day a lot brighter than it used to be.”

Kimmy said, “Tired of seeing Mel?”

Josh’s brow furrowed. Who was Mel? Some inside joke?

Devlin said, “If I came to the Caribbean with Mel and he put on that little bikini you’re wearing, I would stab my eyes out.”

Now Josh smiled, showing none of this bothered him. Mel was that guy Kimmy had replaced. He chuckled, said, “Pretty bold.”

“How’s that, Josh?”

He said, “You like looking at Kimmy in that bikini?”

“You think that’s bold? Are you telling me she’s not worth looking at?”

“Nothing like that at all.”

Devlin looked to Kimmy, then back at him again. “You want to see bold, Josh?”

“Not really.”

Devlin said, “Best part about this villa is the privacy. I don’t wear trunks when I swim in the sea. So anyone who’s shy should probably look away.” He began to untie the knot on his swim trunks.

Josh laughed like Devlin was bluffing—but it took only a second and a half before he realized there was no way Devlin was bluffing. He was really going to do this. He shivered and his skin crawled. The hair rose on the nape of his neck and on the crown of his head. His heart beat a sudden doom-like drum beat. This couldn’t be happening.

But then Devlin turned his back to them, shoved his thumbs under the waistband of his trunks at his hips, and Josh’s natural inclination was to look away. But he was frozen. Wanting to see if Kimmy would look. Wanting to shout out to her that she shouldn’t. Wanting to lurch to her—but the lounger was between them—and spin her around. Kimmy was playing a game, and somehow Devlin had played right into it. But played into it far too deep. Making ninth inning plays in the first fucking inning. “Whoah,” he said, “you’re not really . . .”

Kimmy briefly looked to him, eyes wide and in a No way sort of expression. He went to mouth to her to turn around, but before he could, she was facing Devlin again.

Devlin, true to his word, and giving them much time to turn away if they were bashful, shoved down his swimsuit, baring his ass to them. And you’d be crazy not to know how good Devlin looked. Like some hot Playgirl model. This was like a Playgirl fashion shoot; a tall handsome well-built hunk, naked in the water up to his knees, showing off his wide back and his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, and a perfect, pale man’s ass.

Josh held his breath. He turned to Kimmy, and Kimmy was looking at Devlin. Kimmy was smiling. And now he walked toward her, coming around the back of her lounge chair, looking to get a hold of her arm to tell her that they had to stop. This was too much. Too much, way too fast.

And in that instant as he approached behind his beautiful wife, Devlin turned their way, his balled up swim trunks in one hand. He strode up through the water to the beach again, completely naked and exposed to Kimmy.

There Devlin was, in all his glory; muscular chest flexing, shoulders bulging, large hand holding the clumped swim trunks, his ab muscles rolling under the skin . . . But the most unavoidable, most prominent draw was the thing between his legs.

His huge flaccid cock slapped between his legs. Easily bigger than Josh’s own erection. Dwarfing it. A big pale brownish wrinkly hose with a plump cock head half-hidden by a roll of extra skin. As he strode the water, a soft sticky flesh sound was heard over the waves: Devlin’s big penis hitting his thighs.

Devlin wore a confident smile, gazing Kimmy’s way. He tossed the swim trunks aside into the dry sand, winked to Kimmy, turned and strode into the water, ass muscles flexing. Once he was knee-deep, he took three long strides then dove headlong into a short wave coming his way. He disappeared under the water.

Instant coldness flooded him. Shame, regret. Why did they think they could do this? This was too dangerous a game. All this time, all this talk . . . And tick by tick, Devlin was turning the pot hotter and hotter till it would boil. And Josh was the frog. Each little increment further Kimmy traveled in this relationship with her new boss was bringing her husband great torture. Even in this moment that was supposed to be pleasure.

With Devlin disappeared under the surface, Kimmy turned around finally, her face mildly shocked, but her eyebrows raised in practical fright. Her lips were parted. She couldn’t believe what she saw.

There was your proof, Kimmy. That’s the big penis we were joking about. That’s what I told you. Now you saw it. Now you fucking saw it.

He shook his head at her, mad. Mad at her, mad at himself. But it was Devlin who deserved a punch in the face right now. No words came, and Kimmy didn’t say anything either, studying his expression to gauge his reaction. But he wasn’t going to blow up. He wasn’t going to make a scene. Not with Devlin here. And not when he didn’t even know who he was fucking mad at most.

He raised his palms, shook his head, bewildered, trying to express to her that this was somehow her fault. That she brought this on them.

He pivoted, began marching up the trail back to the villa.

There you have it, Kimmy. You finally saw it. I’m sure Amy told you all about it before. Sure there was no mystery there, no surprise. Well, shoot, never mind Amy’s gossip, I practically told you. And fucking Kimmy knew it was big. Amy and Kimmy had probably giggled all night as teenagers, Amy telling her how great it was to have sex with Devlin. Kimmy had a chance and chickened out. Had she always been curious about what she’d missed? She now had visual confirmation. Devlin’s manhood was enormous. His masculinity was enormous. He was a fucking asshole, but I’m sure Amy told Kimmy about how well the guy could fuck . . .