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Cheating on Patricia Part I

A 100% true account of the time I cheated on my girlfriend Patricia in the summer of 2012
It was close to 11:30 p.m. when my girlfriend Patricia and I pulled into the covered driveway of the hotel. The air was hot and humid as was usual for a typical south Florida summer night. We had decided earlier in the afternoon to stay at the hotel to be closer to the beach. We were both off from work for the weekend and agreed it would be more convenient staying at a beachside hotel rather than drive the thirty minutes or so for the next two days. Waking up to the sound of the surf was something we both enjoyed.

Patricia stopped the car at the entrance of the hotel. I jumped out of the passenger seat and walked into the lobby. The hotel was nothing fancy. The lobby walls were painted in cliché pastel blue and pink and were adorned with generic beach scene posters. Having not made any reservations, I knew there would be a chance that there were no rooms available. The two female attendants behind the counter were busy with paperwork. I approached the counter and politely interrupted them.

“Good evening ladies,” I started, “I’d like a room for the weekend.”

Both figures looked up. The dark skinned lady responded. “Sir, if you give me a minute I will be happy to assist you,” she said in a thick Jamaican accent. Her nametag identified her as “Arlene C.” A few minutes later, I was handing over my credit card and signing for the room.

“Will you need one or two keys?” she asked.

“Two please,” I answered.

“The continental breakfast is served in the dining area beginning at 6:00 a.m.” she added.

I thanked her and scampered out the front door. Patricia had parked the car. We got our backpacks out of the trunk of the car and headed straight to our room. As we walked through the lobby I waved at Arlene.


The baritone drone of the air conditioning unit woke me up the following morning. The room was ice cold and dark. Patricia lay face up next to me; uncovered, naked, with her legs spread open. Before falling asleep, I had helped her trim her bush with my electric shaver followed by expert sculpting with my razor. Doing this always made us horny. It came as no surprise that we were up until two in the morning having sex. Maintaining her bikini line was just another one of our foreplay routines; a very kinky one indeed.

The alarm clock on the night stand read 6:15 in big red digital numbers. I rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I recalled Arlene’s notice of free continental breakfast. A few muffins and a hot cup of coffee would do the trick just fine right now. I put on a pair shorts and a tee shirt.

“Patricia, you want me to bring you something to eat?” I asked.

“No, just let me sleep for a little bit longer,” she responded.

She turned onto her back, bundled herself under the covers and continued sleeping.

As I walked through the lobby towards the small dining area, I saw Arlene.

“I hope you had a good night last night,” Arlene greeted me.

“Yeah, it was comfortable,” I responded. “You look tired. Did you work the night shift?”

“Someone has to,” she responded dejectedly. “Thankfully, I have help that works with me until five.”

”I am going to grab some coffee,” I stated. “Do you want me to bring you some?”

“That would be awesome.” she responded. “That is so sweet of you; if it’s not too much trouble, just black with two sugars please.”

I poured coffee into two Styrofoam cups and threw a few muffins into my shorts’ pockets and returned to the front desk.

“Will you be working tonight?” I asked Arlene as I handed her the coffee.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” she responded.

“Okay then, hopefully I’ll see you when you return,” I replied.

“Sure thing,” Arlene replied

I returned to the hotel room. Patricia was still in bed snoring. I sat at the edge of the bed and turned on the TV. A few hours later Patricia and I were at the beach enjoying the sun and surf.


The beach was not crowded this morning. There is something about the beach that really gets my testosterone flowing. It is most likely due with the fact that I lost my virginity as a teenager on a beach. (See link below for that story) Patricia spread our beach blanket on the hot sand. She was wearing my favorite neon yellow bikini. Her top barely covered her B-cup sized perky breasts. I could make out the small patch of hair that I had manicured earlier in the morning hiding beneath the crotch of her bikini.

“Let’s go into the water,” she commanded. And off we went.

The water was exceptionally warm. We both dove into the surf simultaneously and swam out to the sand bar about 100 yards off shore. The ocean was barely chest deep when we came to a stop. There we stood for about ten minutes, admiring the beautiful ocean horizon, as we bobbed synchronously with each incoming ocean swell. An unusually high wave forced Patricia under the water. She emerged moments later with a huge grin and hopped towards me.

“Hold this,” she said as she handed me her tiny bikini bottom.

I grabbed it and slid into the back pocket of my swimming trunks. She then placed her hands on my shoulders, lifted her body and drew herself towards me; her legs wide open. I could feel her labia rub against my navel area. Instinctively, I scanned the surrounding water and the shore. There was not a soul within voyeur distance. I rolled the front of my trunks downward. My penis was rock hard and with the ocean serving as her lubricant, easily entered her. She rocked her body up and down. Her thighs gripped me tighter and tighter as she humped faster and faster. She buried her face into my right shoulder while letting out a gasp. Thankfully, the ocean provides great sound proofing as there was no echo.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,” she repeated into my ear.

Her nails dug into my back. She lowered herself with one great plunge. I could feel her body convulse and her pussy contract uncontrollably. Her ecstasy was my cue and I immediately came inside of her as I flung my head backwards, my eyes blinded by the bright white sun. We both stood there panting; all alone in the ocean. Minutes passed before we disengaged. We began drifting back to shore. I handed Patricia her bikini bottom. She put it on and a few minutes later we were back on the blanket, soaking up the sun’s rays… exhausted and satisfied. The ocean is truly my domain.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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