Chapter 2 — LOVE Island Spin-off ~What Happened That Day~ - Part 1 (2)

Another day passed, and then another week. Our way of life hadn't changed at all.

We spent every free moment having sex. My wife and Claire now took turns sleeping with James—alternating nights without hesitation.

It was their decision, born out of pity for James, who'd otherwise be alone. Of course, they didn't just sleep beside him. I didn't need to see to know what happened.

They were both my women, yet I had to share them with James. It might have felt unfair, even humiliating, but I wasn't particularly resentful. Not really.

Mostly because I genuinely liked James as a person. And more than that—because I knew once we left this island, this dream would end. So we threw ourselves deeper into sex, desperate to stretch the illusion.

We should've grown tired, but we didn't. Still, we wanted something new—something we'd never tried before.

"Let's go into town."

We accepted James's suggestion to visit the nearby village, boarding a small plane that carried us to civilization.

After days on the empty island, the sight of so many people stirred something in us. We went shopping, ate delicious food, and lost track of time until the sun began to dip below the horizon.

"Let's stay here tonight."

It felt risky to fly back in the dark, so I suggested we stay over. Everyone agreed, and we checked into a nearby inn.

But staying in our rooms all night felt too dull. We dropped off our bags and followed James into the bustling downtown, wandering through neon-lit streets until we found a place like a nightclub—music thumping, bodies swaying.

My wife and Claire stood out on the dance floor, two stunning Asian women drawing eyes from every man nearby. They danced freely, provocatively, and soon others joined them.

James and I watched from the side, sipping drinks, until they called us onto the floor. We danced together—laughing, sweating, lost in the rhythm.

After a night of reckless fun, we returned to the inn and went our separate ways.

That night was my wife's turn with James. I entered our room alone with her, and we both lay down on the bed.

"Was it fun?"

"Yeah. I really enjoyed myself."

Smiling, slightly drunk, she leaned in and kissed me. Then slowly, she lowered her head, unzipped my pants, and took my cock into her mouth.

I let her pleasure me, too lazy to move after too much alcohol. She didn't care. Climbing on top of me, she gripped my shaft and guided it into her wet pussy.

"Haaah!"

She gasped softly, then began rocking her hips up and down. Soon, she twisted her hips in circles, side to side—teasing me with skill, urging me toward climax.

It wasn't long before I came. She collapsed on top of me, breathless, and kissed me deeply.

"That felt good."

She praised me, as if I'd done something impressive—though I'd barely moved. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe she just enjoyed it.

I was satisfied enough, but she seemed… unsatisfied. As if something were missing.

"I'm tired. If you still want more, go to James."

It was just a joke. But she actually asked, "Are you sure?"

I waved my hand dismissively, telling her to go. Without another word, she got up and left the room.

How long had I slept, drunk and unconscious? I woke up and glanced at the clock.

Four hours had passed. It was 4 a.m. My wife was nowhere to be seen.

I got up and walked to James's room. I opened the door quietly.

There they were—my wife, Claire, and James—naked, tangled together in deep sleep.

Curious, I crept toward the trash can.

Inside were nine used condoms.

James's stamina—enviable, even to me, another man.

I gently shook my wife awake. She blinked groggily, then froze when she saw me.

She looked at the clock, guilt flashing across her face. Carefully, she got up and took my arm, leading me back to our room.

"I'm sorry… I was so tired, I must've fallen asleep without realizing."

"Tch. Seriously? You left your husband alone and slept with another man?"

She looked even more apologetic, pouting cutely at me. I couldn't stay mad at that face.

But I wasn't ready to forgive. I turned over in bed, turning my back to her.

She lay down beside me, trembling, and pulled me into her arms.

"Move."

"Honey…"

Her voice trembled with tears. I stayed silent, pretending to hold onto my anger.

Then, suddenly, I heard soft sobbing behind me. I turned around in shock.

"You're crying?"

"Hic… No… I'm not… hic…"

"Hey… don't cry. I'm over it. I was just teasing you because your reaction was cute. Stop crying."

"Hic… hic…"

She cried for several minutes. I finally pulled her close, soothing her, and kissed her gently.

She looked up, wanting more. I smiled and kissed her again.

Then, naturally, I began undressing her. She helped me take off my clothes.

They say morning sex is different? That night, I took her roughly—unlike my usual self.

She liked it. Wrapping her legs around my waist, she rocked her hips on her own, urging me deeper, faster.

As we made love in the pale dawn light, she kept whispering, "I love you." Not just words of pleasure—but sincere, heartfelt words.

We made love for about an hour, then collapsed, exhausted.

"I… I can't live without you, you know."

"What's suddenly gotten into you?"

"A few days ago, your sister told me… she sensed you were uneasy about me and James."

Had Claire really said that to her?

"I told her there's nothing to worry about. I love you. I'll stay by your side forever. James and I are only together for sex. Sure, I feel some affection for him, but nothing compared to you. I thought you understood."

"I'm sorry… I guess, as a man, I felt a little insecure."

"Pfft! You really worry over nothing. Why stress about things that don't matter?"

She climbed on top of me again and kissed me. I pulled her close and kissed her back.

We fell asleep like that. We didn't wake until 8 a.m.

After breakfast, we decided to stay in the village for a few more days.

On the second day in town—

We wanted to try something new. My wife and Claire were eager.

"What should we do?"

"Sister, there are so many people here… What if we walked around without anything underneath, like we did on the island?"

"That actually sounds fun."

The boldness of these women left James and me stunned. Ultimately, we gave in to their lead.

My wife and Claire walked through the city completely naked beneath their clothes. Sometimes, when no one was around, they'd slip into a quiet alley and have sex.

The thrill of being caught made it even more exciting.

They even played a game—naked, walking through the inn's hallway, going back and forth between our rooms.

They even told us that when we were asleep, they'd sneak to the shared bathroom, masturbate, and make a bet: If caught, have sex with the man who finds you.

We were shocked. I'd heard of such things before, but never imagined they'd do it in a busy town.

But eventually, the excitement faded. We returned to the island, and like travelers returning from a long journey, we collapsed into bed and slept deeply.

When I woke up, my wife was gone.

I got out of bed, searching the lodge. On a hunch, I went to James's room—but neither he nor my wife was there.

I headed to the security room and checked the cameras.

There they were—my wife and James—inside the massage room. She was lying face down, moaning softly as James massaged her.

I assumed they'd end up having sex again. I was about to leave—but then I noticed something.

James's hands were focused intensely on her ass. Then, my wife turned her head and whispered something to him.

Something about it felt off. I sat back down.

They were talking, but even with the speaker turned up, I couldn't hear them.

My wife hesitated, then nodded. James looked thrilled.

What the hell were they talking about?

James left the room briefly, then returned with something in his hand.

My wife hesitated, then took it. Then they both left the massage room.

I left the security room and went straight to find her. She was in the dining room, preparing food.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing dinner, obviously."

"Is that so?"

I wanted to know what James had given her. But I decided not to ask.

When dinner time came, we all gathered. But my wife said she wasn't hungry and skipped the meal.

"Are you feeling sick?" I asked.

"No, I just don't have an appetite."

That night, I woke up needing to pee. My wife wasn't in bed.

It was supposed to be our night together. Where could she have gone at this hour?

I went to the bathroom in our room and found the door locked.

"Honey?"

"Yeah? I'm in here."

"At this hour? What are you doing?"

"My stomach hurts. Can't you use another bathroom?"

I gave up and used another restroom. By the time I returned, she still hadn't come out.

The next morning—

My wife and Claire prepared breakfast. My wife said she wasn't feeling well and only drank milk.

I left her with Claire, who was resting after our sex, and wandered the lodge.

Then I saw them—my wife and James—walking off together.

I assumed they were going to the massage room again. I headed to the security room.

Sure enough, they entered the massage room.

The moment they stepped inside, they pulled each other into a deep kiss.

After a long kiss, they stripped each other completely naked. Then, they picked up a bottle of oil and began rubbing it all over each other's bodies.

When they were fully coated, they kissed again.

James caressed my wife's slender body, his touch more intense than usual—especially on her ass.

He laid her on the massage table and began pleasuring her from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp moan escaped her lips.

I couldn't see clearly from the camera angle, but James's hand was between her legs. Maybe he'd hurt her by accident.

James whispered something. She said something back, bit her lip gently, then nodded.

I still had no idea what they'd been talking about since yesterday.

James spent longer than usual pleasuring her. Then, he positioned himself between her legs—ready to begin.

But she stopped him.

"Wait. Let me… let me do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I think I'll be less scared if I do it myself."

What the hell was going on?

She got up, laid James down, and climbed on top of him.

She picked up the oil and poured it over James's cock.

Why oil on his cock? I didn't understand, but I let it go.

After breathing deeply, she straddled him.

James grabbed her hips and slowly lowered her down.

"Haaah!"

A sharp, pained moan burst through the speaker. I knew instantly—she was in real pain.

We'd had sex countless times. There was no reason for her to hurt now.

I stared at the monitor, trying to understand.

But nothing seemed unusual.

She stayed still, grimacing, for a long while. Then, slowly, she began moving her hips.

"Haa… haa…"

Her movements grew smoother over time.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

"Haaah… haa… haa…"

Her moans still carried pain, but gradually, they softened. Her rhythm quickened.

Her body began to respond—not in pain, but in pleasure.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Squelch. Squelch. Slap.

"Haaah!… Haaah!… Haaah!… Aaah!… Haaah!… Haaah!…"

Her full breasts bounced wildly as her body rocked up and down.

She was lost in pleasure, riding James.

Then, she changed position—lifting his legs, placing her hands on his knees, crouching low, and starting to bounce again.

But something felt… off.

I leaned closer to the monitor.

Squelch. Squelch. Slap. Slap.

"Haaah… James… something's wrong… haaah… this feeling… haaah… I've never… felt this before… even with him… I've never done this… haaah!… Why… haaah… it feels so good… haaah…"

She was having sex with James. But when she crouched down, I saw clearly—his cock wasn't inside her pussy.

I froze.

My mind went blank.

I rushed out of the security room and crept to the massage room, carefully opening the door.

I saw my wife's back, her body rocking up and down. Her ass cheeks were spread wide by James's hands.

Squelch. Squelch. Slap. Slap.

"James!… Aaah!… This feeling… it's my first time… even with him… I've never… haaah!… Why… haaah… it feels so good… haaah…!"

Her ass was spread wide open.

And there—deep inside her ass—was James's cock, sliding in and out.

I'd never done anal with my wife. I'd wanted to, but she'd always refused.

And now—she was letting James do it. Letting another man take her ass—her anal virginity—right in front of me, riding him like a slut, moaning in ecstasy.

I wasn't angry.

I was stunned. Dumbfounded. A twisted sense of depravity washed over me—just like when I first saw her with James.

Squelch. Squelch.

"James!… Aaah!… James!… It feels so good… Aaah!…"

She didn't know I was watching. My wife—my Emma—was offering her backdoor virginity to another man, not her husband, and shaking her body in pleasure.

I questioned if this was even real.

I stood there, frozen, watching.

Then, suddenly, her movements grew frantic. Both of them were reaching their limit.

Slap. Slap.

"James!… Your cock… it's getting harder… haaah!… Are you going to come?… haaah!… I want you to… come inside me… Aaah!…"

"Yes! Ngh! I want to… come inside you, Emma…"

"Haaah!… Then do it… it's not like he checks… we didn't even use a condom… haaah!… Come!… You can't come in my pussy… but in my ass… haaah!… Come as much as you want!"

She rode him faster, taking his cock deep into her ass, urging him to climax.

Not long after, she gasped sharply—and collapsed onto James's chest.

When James pulled out, thick white cum spilled from her ass, dripping down.

"Haa… haa… that was good…"

"Me too, Emma… haa…"

"I gave my backdoor virginity… not to him, but to you, James."

"Haa… thank you, Emma."

"Don't thank me. This is all I can give you. Oh, and… this stays secret from him. I only agreed because you begged me so desperately. Don't tell anyone."

"Of course."

They spoke like lovers. Then her face dipped down, and I heard the sound of a kiss.

I couldn't hide my bitterness. My wife—Emma—had given another man her anal virginity and was happy about it. And she was hiding it from me.

I felt jealousy. Anger. But what could I do? It was already done.

James's cock was hard again.

"Emma… can I have you one more time?"

"Of course. To be honest… I wanted more too."

She turned around, got into a 69 position, and took James's flaccid cock into her hand.

Then, without hesitation, she put the cock—just moments ago buried in her ass—into her mouth and began sucking.

Slurp… slurp… slurp…

My wife, who usually hated messiness, was sucking James's cock—licking it with devotion, the same cock that had just been inside her ass.

I felt hollow. Quietly, I closed the door and walked away.

I lit a cigarette in the lobby, torn between jealousy, anger, and a perverse arousal.

Curiosity won. I returned to the security room and watched the monitor.

Slurp… slurp… slurp…

They were still in 69, pleasuring each other.

After a while, my wife got up and left the room. She returned with soap.

She lathered her hands, carefully cleaned James's erect cock, then rinsed it with water.

Then she climbed back on top, crouched down, and took his cock into her pussy.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

"Aaah!… Aaah!… Haaah!… Haaah!… Yes… the ass is good… but… haaah!… my pussy loves James's cock… it feels so full… so good!"

She rode him like a whore—her body obscene, her movements lewd.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh and her moans poured through the speaker.

On the monitor, her face glowed with pleasure and bliss.

Her full breasts swayed wildly in James's hands. Her pussy glistened, soaked with arousal, taking his cock deeply.

After riding him for a while, she paused, pulled out, crouched low, then used her hands to spread her ass cheeks wide.

And slowly, she lowered herself—onto James's cock, into her ass.

Anal sex again. She was taking it once more.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

"Haaah!… It's too good… Aaah!… James… you drive me crazy… Aaah!… I'm glad I gave my backdoor virginity to you… James! I love you!… I love you so much!… Haaah!… I love your cock so much!… Aaahhh!…"

"I do too! I love you, Emma! I love your pussy so much!"

Like a slut, she spread her own ass and took James's cock deep into her rectum.

Then, overcome with excitement, she reached down, shoved fingers into her pussy, and masturbated while riding his cock in her ass.

Her expression was filthy. So depraved, I could barely recognize her as my wife.

Then, suddenly, her body stiffened. Her tongue lolled out. Her back arched like a bow.

At that moment, clear liquid shot from her pussy—like a water gun.

Squirt. Squirt. Squirt.

"Haaah!… Haaah!… Aaaahhh!!!"

Orgasm.

She came, weeping in ecstasy, her body drenched in pleasure.

Her upper body collapsed onto James's chest. She lay there, basking in the afterglow. Then they kissed.

"Haa… that was amazing."

"Me too. One more time?"

"No… I'm too tired. I want to shower."

"Let's go together."

They left the massage room. I stayed in the security room, smoking, unable to move.

.

.

.

The memory ended when my wife Emma called my name. She asked what I was thinking about, but I just said "nothing" and closed my eyes.

After that, Emma never told me she'd given her anal virginity to James. Never mentioned the creampie.

I thought she might tell me someday. But even if she didn't, it didn't matter.

Most importantly—she had chosen me. In the end, she stayed with me.

And right now, in this moment, she's whispering in my ear that she loves me.

"Honey."

"Hmm?"

I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"We'll always be together, right?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask? Do you doubt me?"

"No. Never. Hehe… after all, my husband would never leave me."

"And you, Claire, Sarah… I'll never leave any of you. As long as you don't deceive me."

For a moment, I felt Emma's body tremble slightly.

"Honey."

"What is it?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?"

"The time when I lived with James before…"

I closed my eyes and listened carefully to my wife's words.