A Holiday Ended

This is my first story. It doesn't have a lot of sex, it is more about the emotion and how people can get wrapped up in events and ignore the consequences.

Thanks to Kenji for editing and direction. Please forgive my swapping between US and British English, it's just who I am.

Be kind in the comments, these stories are just a bit of fun to improve my own writing skills.

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School was never a place I enjoyed. I was never on the sports teams, never part of the 'in crowd', and to be honest, not that bright. I never had any trouble, but I never did anything exciting. My burning ambition was to leave. I did have one big talent, I was good with my hands, and I had a sixth sense when it came to installing electrical equipment.

My name is Brandon Michaels, and my dad has worked as an electrician for most of his working life. He is not qualified, but makes a good living.

When I graduated school, I applied for an apprenticeship at a large electrical supply and installation company. They sent me to their internal college in the midwest to qualify as an electrical engineer, and paid my fees with a bursary to survive. College was a lot of fun, with some parties, some girls, quite a bit of drinking, but mostly--a lot of work. I excelled, not only in the installation and maintenance, but in design and estimating. I graduated in the top five of my class, and was offered a job at a new facility in the same state as the school. The job was in design and estimation, supporting sales and purchasing. It was a desk job, but the salary was way beyond of what I was expecting. When I was offered the job, I was told that this was an entry-level position in the management team, and I could expect promotion.

I arrived in the town five days before I was due to start. The company had organized a short-term lease on an apartment. I moved myself from college, and mum and dad brought my stuff from their house, plus some kitchen utensils and small appliances.

My new job started on the Monday. The new facility was overworked and undermanned, so I worked long hours. With only my boss and I in the department, we worked hard, and I gained experience very quickly. The boss was only a few years older than me, and he said his role was to train me to take over a similar department in a bigger facility in a different state. Our office quickly developed a reputation for high-quality work.

At the end of my second week, I was invited out to a club with some of the salespeople. We sat in a booth with two tables in it. At the other table, there were four girls. After a few drinks, the salespeople were asking the girls to dance. All four were asked, but only three accepted. The one that didn't was sitting next to me.

I looked at her, and said, "I can't dance, but would you like to try anyway?"

Her face lit up, and she replied, "I thought you would never ask."

We danced a few fast numbers, and when a slow one came on, we just stood there; neither one of us wanted to leave, but neither wanted to make the first move. I closed my eyes, took her hand and pulled her in. She quickly pulled herself into me, and we slowly danced. I discovered her name was Joanne, that she lived locally, and that she worked at a call center for a large IT company, giving support to users.

Joanne and I were very similar. Neither of us were ever going to be models, but we hadn't been hit with the ugly stick, either. She was about four inches shorter than me maybe five-six, with smallish boobs, but when she danced close, her nipples were like two hat pins. She was quiet, but had a wicked sense of humor. At the end of the night, I asked could we meet again for dinner. I was happy when she agreed to meet the following night. We swapped cell numbers to make arrangements, and I left feeling like I was going to enjoy my new location.

Joanne and my relationship progressed quickly, and we married three years later, both aged twenty-four. We both had good jobs, but decided to rent an apartment near the center of town. She was happy with that, and I was expecting a promotion to a new state any time soon.

The first and only argument we had, happened two years after we were married. I was offered a promotion to a senior-management position at a new facility in Arizona. It was a big opportunity for me, but Joanne refused to move. She was born in the town, and had no intention of moving anywhere else. Due to the age structure in my current location, I would never get the same opportunity. I thought long and hard, but decided we were both well paid, the cost of housing was very low in our town, meaning we actually had a very high standard of living, and I loved Joanne too much to upset her. So I declined the promotion, and life carried on.

We were two months short of our fifth wedding anniversary, and very happy in our lives. We had a great social life, had a very good deposit saved for a house, and like most people our age at twenty-nine, our sex life was active and enjoyable. A new subdivision had just started on the outskirts of town, and we had picked out a site that we would like to buy. With the deposit we had saved, we could buy the property and the mortgage would be less than our current rent. We took an option on the site, and were due to sign the contract in five months, when building started.

One Sunday night, we were at the in-laws for dinner. My mother-in-law was approaching her fifty-ninth birthday, and Joanne was starting to make gentle enquiries as to what she might like for her birthday.

My mother-in-law stopped eating, looked her daughter in the eye, and said, "I don't want anything for this birthday, I want a grandchild for my sixtieth."

The room was completely silent, except for the sound of my mother-in-law's knife and fork scraping on her plate, as she resumed eating. Joanne and I just looked at each other, stunned.

To be honest children had never entered our equation of life. Joanne had always been on birth control, and neither of us had expressed an interest in starting a family. The drive home was in total silence, until we entered our apartment complex.

As I parked the car, Joanne said, "What do you think of mum's birthday gift?"

We both got out of the car, and as we started walking up the stairs to our door, I said, "Well, it certainly could be fun wrapping it."

The night was strange, as we sat watching TV in silence, but Joanne practically raped me when we went to bed. She was bouncing on me cowgirl when she shouted, "Please get me pregnant!"

As we lay in the afterglow, I asked her if the idea of a family excited her, and she said it did. She said she had wanted to move our married life to the next stage for some time, but she didn't know what she wanted until her mum spoke. I had to admit the idea of becoming a father just felt right.

We decided we should go on a holiday for our fifth wedding anniversary. A search of a couple of travel sites found a nice, all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. The resort was not a swingers' resort, and did not have a nude beach. It did allow topless sunbathing, and I knew Joanne would not sunbathe topless, but also that she didn't mind being around women who did. Our wedding anniversary was on the Thursday night. The resort had a couple of restaurants, both of which had excellent reviews, but you had to pay extra for one that had outstanding reviews on TripAdvisor. I booked that for the Thursday night, when I booked the rest of the trip.

There were three flight options. We could fly from our local airport to either Dallas, Colorado or Atlanta. From there, we could fly to the island. The Atlanta flight was the shortest, but meant leaving very late at night on the return trip. We went for the transit through Dallas, as it was daytime flights, and with time zones, we would leave midday on the Saturday and be home for 7:00pm that same day.

The plan was for Joanne to continue taking her birth-control pills until the Wednesday. We would enjoy the pool, beach, and other facilities in the resort. On the Thursday, we would go for a tour of the island, then go for our dinner and return to the room early to start 'making our baby'. We would then do the same on Friday, and be home in time, and wide enough awake, to keep going on the Saturday. We were both excited about the holiday, and for the family it was intended to start.

As the day of the holiday approached, Joanne was insatiable. I was not complaining. We both packed our bags. She put her birth-control pills in her wash bag and said, "I can't wait to flush these down the toilet." I told her to bring a spare set in her hand baggage in case her bag was lost. We didn't want to start early, and we could flush all her tablets in one go on the Thursday morning. What a ceremony that was going to be.

The flight was as good as could be expected and we arrived in the hotel, with all our luggage around 7:00pm. The travel time was eight hours, and we had a three-hour time difference, so we were both a little tired, but ready to start our holiday. As I checked in, the first hint of trouble arose. I heard a French voice call out of a crowd, "Over here to reception."

As I turned around, an immaculately turned-out man, in his early fifties stood behind me, but he was looking at my wife as if she was the dessert after a very expensive meal.

He picked up Joanne's hand, kissed it, and asked, "And what is your name, mademoiselle?"

Joanne blushed in a way that instantly said this man had just placed a spell on her, and stammered, "Joanne."

The immaculate stranger said, "Well, I am Felipe, and I hope we can spend plenty of time together while you are here."

I turned around fully, and said, "Thank you, Felipe, but my wife and I are hoping to have some quality time to ourselves."

Felipe, still holding my wife's hand to his lips, turned his head and said, "But sharing such beauty is what holidays are for."

As he said this, I felt an arm entwine mine and a woman's voice said, "I am Elizabeth, and I am Felipe's wife. Come and tell me about this fabulous resort."

I untangled Elizabeth's arm from mine, as the receptionist handed me our key. I took Joanne's hand out of Filipe's, and said, "Nice to meet you. Joanne, let's go find our room."

As we got into the elevator, Joanne had a faraway look. I asked her what was wrong, and she said, in a whisper, "Nothing, but I could look into those eyes and listen to that voice for hours."

As the doors opened, I said, "I hope not, you are mine and I intend to make full use of the facilities you offer." She smiled at me, and offered the opinion that she was seriously hoping so.

After our baggage came to the room, we washed and changed, then left the room to find somewhere to have a light bite to eat and a few drinks, while we watched the world go by.

As we entered the bar, I heard Filipe shout, "Joanne come, come. I have a chair here for you."

I grabbed Joanne's arm tightly, as I tried to direct her away, but she would have none of it, and pulled me over to the table. When we arrived at the table, there were about eight couples, all sitting around it. There was one couple who looked in their late thirties, the rest were in their forties or fifties.

Something instantly felt wrong, as it looked like the couples were all separated while being intimate with others. There was a chair beside Filipe, which he took Joanne to, and Elizabeth took my arm and took me to a seat on the other side of the table. I asked her to release my arm, as I wanted to sit with my wife.

Elizabeth looked me in the eye and said, "Oh, Felipe wants you and your wife to join our little club for this week, and he has picked Joanne as his favorite."

I looked her square in the eye, and said at the top of my voice so everyone--especially, Joanne--could hear. "Are you all swingers!"

She quietly said, "That is such a dirty word to describe the sharing of affection and love amongst others you respect."

I stood up and went to Joanne saying, "Joanne, we are leaving."

We left the bar and Joanne turned to me with anger on her face and in her voice, saying, "What the hell was that about?"

I told her about my conversation with Elizabeth, and said, "We are not entering a swinger's lifestyle. I think we should keep clear of these people."

Joanne was silent for the walk to the balcony bar, and spoke very little through our meal. We went to bed and for the first time in weeks, she turned down sex.

The next morning, we both changed into beach clothing and went down for breakfast. Joanne seemed happy again, and we discussed what we would do. We decided to go to the beach in the morning, and see what the rest of the day brought. We went back to the room, collected sunscreen, books and other items, then headed to the beach.

At the beach, the sand was warm, so we took sun beds and a beach umbrella. Just as I was sitting down to put sunscreen on Joanne's back, I heard Filipe shouting, "Joanne, may we join you?"

I quickly said, "Say no."

But, Joanne looked up and said, "Yes."

Filipe and Elizabeth pulled up chairs, with Elizabeth between me and Joanne, and Filipe on Joanne's other side. Filipe took one look at Joanne, then at the sunscreen and said, "Let me do that for you." He promptly leaned down, undid Joanne's bikini top and started rubbing in sunscreen--something she would never have dreamt of doing before, and certainly would have scolded me if I had done it. As he did this, Elizabeth took her T-shirt off to reveal she was not wearing any bikini top.

No matter how I tried all morning, Filipe and Elizabeth constantly maneuvered me away from Joanne, so that Filipe could keep talking to her. At one point, Elizabeth dragged me away to "Carry 'some drinks from the bar'. I was not asked, but pulled to the bar by her. As we stood waiting for drinks, I saw Felipe take out his phone and pair it with Joanne's, quite clearly swapping numbers. He then started doing something to Joanne's phone which I could not see.

When we returned, it was nearly midday and I said Joanne and I needed to get out of the heat for the day. Without giving her a chance to complain, I picked everything up and started walking to the hotel.

She followed me at a run, saying, "Wait for me, what's the hurry?"

I stopped, and looked at her once we were out of earshot, and could not be seen and said, "That couple is bad news, they are swingers and he is after you. I feel really uncomfortable with this, and you appear to be encouraging him."

I turned and walked back to the hotel.

She stood in stunned silence, then followed.

When we arrived in the room, I heard a WhatsApp message on her phone. I looked at the closed screen, and noticed the number started with the international dialing code '33', the international dialing code for France. I also noticed the number was in her address book, under the name 'Fel'. She put her phone down to go to the bathroom. I picked it up and pressed the screen to open it. I typed in her passcode, which I knew as we both used the same code for convenience and discovered her passcode had been changed. Now I knew what Felipe was doing earlier, putting his number in her phone and changing the passcode so I could not read it.

We both lay in bed, but there was a distance between us, that had never been there before.

We lay in silence for quite some time, then Joanne asked, "What do you think of Elizabeth?"

My reply was quick, as I said, "I don't like either of them. They are swingers and they are grooming you to be his lover." I sat up, and looked her in the eye, saying, "And he doesn't care if he destroys our marriage in the process. I will not go anywhere near Elizabeth, or any other woman and if you sleep with him, I will divorce you!"

She recoiled from me due to the venom in my voice. After another period of silence, she sat up and said, "But Felipe says variety stimulates a married couples' sex life, and doing it together means it's not cheating."

I stood, up and the look of anger on my face shocked her further. I said, "Two things, I will never give permission for you to sleep with him, so if you do, you will be a cheating slut and that will lead to divorce. Second, his presence has been a complete killer for our sex life already. I can't even bring myself to touch you with the way you are carrying on with him. If you did sleep with him, I would never touch you again."

With that, I walked out of the room, slamming the door. I had forgotten about the change in passcode on her phone, but I was glad I did not bring it up. I would keep that for later, if I needed it.

I walked down to the reception desk, and noticed a guest computer room beside the reception area. I went in, and decided I needed to prepare for the worst case. I logged onto my old online banking to find my original accounts were still open but inactive. I followed the link to activate the accounts, submitting new ID information, which I was able to get from my cloud storage. I then ordered a new debit card for the account, which would be sent to our apartment and would arrive Friday.

I next logged into the Delta Airlines website. Working on the basis that if this played out all week, the chances were Friday, our last night, would be the big play. There were seats on the 11:30pm flight to Atlanta on Friday night, and a 3:00am connection to our local airport. With time zones, I would be home for 5:00am, which was 8:00am on the island. Both flights costed less than a hundred dollars, so I booked them, hoping I had just wasted the money.

I started researching divorce laws in our state. As we had no children and rented our apartment, it was quick and simple. Divide the assets, which were all cash deposits and we each owned our own cars, meaning no financing issues. Even though she didn't earn as much as I did, the differential was such that there would be no spousal support. Joanne could ask for counselling, but with no children, both parties had to agree.

There was an advert for a divorce attorney in our local town on the website, and I just followed the link. The website had a contact form, which I filled in. It asked for financial information, which I downloaded from the online bank, and attached to the form.

Just as I was closing down the webpage, Elizabeth walked in, all smiles and said, "Well, have you gotten over your hang ups, and going to accept the inevitability of Felipe and Joanne?"

I looked at her with incredulity, and her face went from a bright smile to concern, and she asked in a low voice, "What have you done?"

My response was a simple, "I'm making plans," and I walked past her.

As I reached the elevator, I heard her shout, "Brandon, stop! Talk to me," but the elevator door opened and I stepped in, pressed for the correct floor, and watched the elevator doors close, as she continued to shout, "Brandon, stop!"

I walked into our room, and Joanne was sitting on the bed with her phone in her hand. She had a very concerned look on her face, as she said, "What were you doing?"

I walked past her to the fridge and took out a beer. After the first swig, I said, "Well, obviously Elizabeth has told you where I was. I'm just making my own plans in case you are stupid enough to do what Elizabeth just describes as the 'inevitable'." I then walked out to the balcony, and sat down with my phone to check my emails. The attorney's office had sent an automated reply saying someone would contact me Monday around midday. That was 3:00pm local time, I put it in my diary.

Joanne was standing at the door, with a look of concern etched deep on her face. Her WhatsApp message went again, and she typed in her passcode and read the message. I looked at her, as she replied on the phone.

Then, I asked, "When are you going to tell me your new passcode, or are Felipe's messages private and confidential?"