“I hate to break it to you, Husband, but the man gave a better foot rub than you could ever hope to do.”
“Fascinating. How about some drinks? What do you want, my seductive little vixen?”
With her boy gone, Lana picked up the mock of her husband’s memoir, intending to read it… if she didn’t get distracted. “I want the biggest, tackiest, most islandy looking drink they have at the bar. Rum, vodka, I don’t give a shit. Oh, make it pink.”
“One Island Floozy, coming right up.”
Ken turned and walked away, taking his firm, muscular ass with him. Lana gazed at it longingly, thinking of how those rock-hard muscles thrust his cock into her the night before as they made love on their balcony. So far every night they had found someplace to do it, whether in their huge bed, the hot tub, the outdoor shower, or right on the beach. It’s been the perfect trip.
Normally Lana avoided this more public area, but she was a woman with a mission today. Plus, Ken expressed interest in swimming some laps in the Olympic-sized pool. The place was more active than she liked for her vacation, but a couple caught her eye in the neighboring cabana.
She slinked off her lounge chair, leaving behind her husband’s book, and sauntered through the shadows until she came upon the stranger couple sitting on a silk-covered bench beneath their awning. The man was perhaps thirty, with strong muscles and a dark outfit that suggested the heat couldn’t get to him. Los Angeles. Miami. Maybe Las Vegas. They had to be from one of those hot cities.
The woman, on the other hand, was thin, with short, bobbed brown hair and modest breasts packed into a blue bikini top. The way she stroked her male companion’s arm – giving Lana a great view of the diamond wedding ring on the woman’s left hand – suggested a long familiarity. Bingo.
“Come here often?” she asked, leaning against a pillar. “To this island, I mean.”
As it turned out, it was their first time visiting. They were on their yearly tropical vacation after being married a whole five years. When Lana mentioned her husband of ten years was around there somewhere, they both expressed amazement that she was old enough to be married for ten years. Stop. You flatter me.
“I see my flirty wife has invaded the neighbors’ cabana,” Ken said, bringing his wife a fizzy pink drink with a lemon-colored straw. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”
As laughter took the four of them over, Lana kissed her husband’s cheek in gratitude before redirecting her lips to his ear.
“Code red, Kenny.”
He slipped his arm around her midsection. “I figured. She’s totally your type.”
“And he’s totally yours.”
“I thought we weren’t doing this on our honeymoon.”
“I changed my mind. I wanna make him watch you fuck his wife while I give him the hummer of his life.”
“That’s boring. I was thinking one giant pile in our cottage.”
“It’s called doing both.”
Lana patted her husband’s shoulder and went back to the main conversation at hand. “Of course we’ve been to Vermont,” she said. “Kenneth has family from there.”
Idle chitchat always had a habit of leading to something more… risqué. Which proved true even now as Mr. and Mrs. Andrews flattered their new friends into submission. Quite literally.
I don’t want to have any other kind of marriage. Lana walked back to her cottage with her husband and friends, arms linking between Ken’s and the woman’s. She looked at her husband, sharing with him a small smile that said he infinitely loved her. I’ve got everything I could possibly need in this one right here.
She wasn’t fragile – she was cautious. Cautious to the strange sensations that sometimes struck her heart and soul. The two parts of her most susceptible to wild speculation and suggestion.
Ten years had gone by so quickly. She hoped the next ten with her husband would be a bit more relaxed. Anywhere outside of the bedroom, anyway.
THE END