Carrie Spreads Wide

By FootCrazy

Carrie has been married to Greg for five years and has watched him build his career but also watched silently as he neglected his matrimonial duties. That is about to change as she awakens her deepest desires and while doing so unleashes Greg's. On this weekend outing on Greg's bosses yacht Carrie will learn what it takes to get to Greg's animal instincts and Greg learns how to become a great business partner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pure Taboo Erotica
• Release date: Sep 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301987702

FootCrazy

FootCrazy was born to write hardcore erotic fiction, his parents were big fans of the medium and had acquired a vast collection of "pocket readers". He found his parents collection at a young age and became enthralled with the covers (most were illustrations of women in various stages of undress and various sexual situations). When he opened them up and started to read them it changed his live forever. He started to write erotic stories in high school and has a large collection of "short stories" he has written over the years. We hope to be able to publish them in volumes one day. He is a college graduate with a degree in Comparative Literary Studies.

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Carrie Spreads Wide

By FootCrazy

Copyright 2013 by FootFreak Press

Smashwords Edition

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CARRIE SPREADS WIDE by FootCrazy

CHAPTER ONE

Carrie Ebert felt the dry hot sun soaking into her sleek nearly naked body. She was sipping a tall cold drink made of gin and limes. She gave a long, low sigh of pleasure. She'd made it at last. Here she was on a rich man's yacht, hanging out with the jet set. What more could a girl want? Well, to begin with, a decent fuck. The thought just bubbled up in her head, and she blushed as it came to her -- but, damn it, it was true. The hot day, the sight of all that smooth tan flesh, the attractive men she was talking with -- it all combined to make her maddeningly horny. Alas, there was nothing she could do about it. She had her husband Greg along.

Of course she'd never cheat on Greg anyhow. If it weren't for Greg, they wouldn't even be here today. Greg Ebert, a thirty-seven year-old lawyer, had been Carrie's husband for five years. During that time he'd made a big name for himself as a corporation attorney, and now they'd been invited aboard this yacht for private talks with Leonard Rosen, a fabulously wealthy businessman who was thinking of hiring Greg. If Greg became Leonard's personal attorney, their worries would be over forever. At least their financial worries, Carrie sighed again as she thought about her marriage, not a contented sigh this time. She loved Greg dearly and was very proud of his success, but, much as she hated to admit it, he was a lousy lover. If she weren't so inexperienced herself, she might be able to teach him something -- but Greg was the only man she'd ever fucked.

Another drink Mrs. Ebert?, Carrie opened her eyes and saw the steward, Raul, bending over her. My God, she thought, what a gorgeous stud! Again she blushed as wicked thoughts bubbled helplessly into her mind. The handsome Mexican-American steward was about her own age, twenty-five, superbly muscled and deeply tan. He also had lazy glowing brown eyes that made her poor starved cunt go all hot and wet. Yes, thank you, Raul, she said, holding out her empty glass. Raul took the glass, and their fingers brushed. Carrie experienced a rush of lust so powerful that she almost gasped aloud. Blushing, she looked around hastily to see if anyone had noticed her horny reaction to Raul. My God, it seemed as if she could think of nothing but sex from the instant she stepped onto this yacht!

Greg sat close beside her but hadn't been watching her. He was listening to Leonard. Greg was handsome enough, but his slightly receding hairline and horn-rimmed glasses made him look very studious. He was wearing skimpy navy blue swimming trunks, and he looked good in them, but somehow he lacked the animal magnetism of dark-eyed Raul. Leonard Rosen, owner of the yacht, was about fifty and had a thick head of silver hair. He was a big bearish man, but by no means fat. Carrie sensed great power in him, harsh strength, even though he laughed a lot and was the perfect host. Like his steward he was tanned practically the color of roast turkey. Beside him, rubbing him down with suntan lotion was his current mistress, Lesia Bauer.

Lesia was about the same age as Carrie, but next to her Carrie felt dumpy and middle-aged. Lesia had been a actress briefly before she recognized her own lack of talent and decided to let Leonard support her. She'd learned all the Hollywood tricks of make-up and dress, and she always looked as if she'd just stepped off a movie set. Tall, slender, red-haired, she had large melon-shaped breasts that practically popped out of her tiny bikini bra. Carrie noticed that even Greg, her studious husband, kept ogling Lesia's cleavage. Oh, well, she couldn't blame him. Their marriage was getting pretty dull after five years. He looked at other women now, and she looked at other men. Still, Carrie wasn't all that bad-looking, even if she lacked Lesia's super-sophisticated style. In fact Carrie looked pretty good -- as she could tell from the way Raul's eyes swept hungrily over her body.

The young steward brought her another drink, threading his way carefully through the lounging people, somehow not interrupting the intense discussion Greg and Leonard were having. Raul moved like a cat, quiet and unobtrusive. Yet Carrie could feel his warm brown eyes burning her flesh. The way he looked at her as he handed her the drink -- well, she couldn't explain it exactly, but it was as if he'd stripped her naked and was exploring every intimate part of her body with his eyes. Thank you, Raul, she said faintly. You are more than welcome, Mrs. Ebert, he said with a grin. He turned away, and she found herself gawking helplessly at the tight muscular rounds of his ass. There ought to be a law against buns that tight, she thought. She also told herself to be cool. They'd only been on the yacht an hour, and already she was acting like an animal in heat. Greg was here for business and that was all. She must be careful not to spoil things for him. She must smile and be the perfect wife.

How are you coming along, Carrie? asked Leonard Rosen. Hope Greg and I aren't boring you with our business talk. Oh, no, not at all, Mr. Rosen, said Carrie. Call me Leonard, he said, puffing on an enormous cigar. It's all first names on the yacht. You just let Raul know if you want anything, honey. Thank you, Leonard, Carrie said, flushing slightly. Leonard didn't know it, but there was something she really would dig having from Raul -- not that she'd ever get the nerve to ask for it. She believed in being faithful to her husband, even if things weren't so great in bed any more. She closed her eyes and sipped her drink, trying to blank her mind, trying not to think about Raul, about sex...

Ah, good here are Jerry and Helen said Leonard. The three-day cruise was to consist of Leonard and Lesia, Greg and Carrie, and Jerry and Helen Green. Jerry, a lean blond man in his mid-thirties, was Leonard's chief accountant. His wife Helen was around thirty, a tall brunette with a voluptuous figure. They boarded the yacht, and Leonard got up to shake hands with Jerry and exchange a kiss with Helen. You two get into your bathing suits, Leonard said, and Raul will have drinks waiting. Then we can get underway. The Greens disappeared into the cabin, and Raul and Leonard prepared the boat for launching. Carrie felt excited about the prospect of seeing new places, even if it was only southern California and Baja. So far in their marriage it had been nothing but work. Greg was scrambling to get to the top, and she'd been right there with him, being the hostess, being the wife he could show off. They'd never had a vacation in the whole five years of their marriage. Maybe things would change now, if Leonard hired Greg. Maybe they could relax a little and start to enjoy each other. Maybe Greg wouldn't always be in such a hurry when they made love. She was starved for leisurely, luxurious loving, the kind she never got from her ambitious busy husband.

Jerry and Helen reappeared in their bathing suits, and Raul, after handing them tall cool drinks, took the boat out of the harbor. Even Leonard was impressed enough with the view to stop talking for a while, and they all just lay back and looked. Lesia snuggled into Leonard's lap, and he slipped an arm around her. Carrie smiled absently at them, thinking how cozy they looked. Then she saw Lesia slipping her hand inside Leonard's swimming trunks. Carrie blushed hotly and looked away, but no one noticed her embarrassment. Apparently no one but her noticed what Lesia was doing, either. It was pretty bold and outrageous, but on the other hand Lesia probably thought nobody could see. She smiled serenely at the view while slipping her hand farther and farther into Leonard's trunks. At last her small hand was covering the very spot where his cock had to be. Leonard gave absolutely no sign of what was happening except a vague smile. Like his mistress, he contentedly watched the view. Carrie had a feeling that this was a game they played often, a sexy little game designed to give pleasure and test nerve. She saw Lesia's hand moving inside Leonard's trunks, gently and rhythmically squeezing. Leonard gave a contented grunt but otherwise didn't react.

Well, thought Carrie... She certainly was moving in fast company if it was considered okay to jack off your boyfriend in public. She supposed she ought to ignore it, but she was fascinated with what Lesia was doing, and she kept sneaking looks. Lesia's hand moved faster and faster as she massaged and jerked on Leonard's cock. Carrie tried to imagine doing the same thing to Greg, but she knew it'd never happen. Greg would be scandalized if she tried anything like that. He hardly believed in any foreplay at all, let alone public displays of lust. In fact though she hated to admit it, her husband was a prude. After about five minutes of that naughty massage, Lesia drew her hand out of Leonard's trunks -- and left behind an enormous erection. Again Carrie couldn't help looking and blushing. The guy's crotch was hugely and stiffly tented by his hardened prick. Lesia really knew her stuff. Leonard gave a long low sigh as she took her hand away, and then he quickly got up and headed for the cabin. Lesia and I are gonna have a little nap before dinner, folks, he said. You just ask Raul for anything you want. We'll see you in an hour or so.

Everyone else nodded casually. Apparently only Carrie knew just what kind of nap Leonard had in mind. She found herself burning with envy of Lesia, wishing that she was going below with an eager lover. My God, she could use it! She thought of them down there in the master cabin, Leonard's long rigid prick sliding into Lesia's moist eager cunt! Just thinking about it, she experienced dizzying lust. That did