Our First Adult Vacation

"Michelle, why do you even have to ask? I'm more attracted to you now than the day we met!"

He went on like that, all with glowing terms and I went on with needy rejoinders to coerce more compliments.

After a pause, "You know guys were looking at you today?" he said and I let out a nervous laugh that he noticed.

"You know one of the hit on me?" I stated matter of factly.

"What?! When?!" His tone was more inquisitive rather than upset; from the way his entire body perked up it was clear that I struck some nerve.

Before I could fill in the details, "how?! Where?!" he continued rapidly.

"Slow down, I'll tell you." I said laughing and seeing if he would catch his breath.

I told him about how I couldn't find the washroom and how I asked someone who looked like they might now. It wasn't a particularly long story or one that I wouldn't have told without a few drinks, nevertheless my husband was completely engrossed. He wanted to know every minute detail and listened to each one with baited breath. I was astonished at the playful stride in which he was taking this. My husband, in the past, was always prone to a jealous streak that was in no way one of his better attributes. In a different time and place this could have certainly led to a fight, but not this time, this time he was greeting the whole thing in a way that inspired me to lay my entire hand on the table.

"What did he say?"

"Honey, he was really direct about it, like more direct than anyone has ever been to me."

"Well?...What did he say?"

"Word for word?"

"Michelle...YES...word for word."

"Pour me some wine, ok?"

"Tell me."

"Pour me some wine and I will."

With my glass full, I quoted to the best of my recollection, "He said that he wanted to take me out on his boat and make love to me while the sun went down."

We were both laughing quite openly.

"Just like that!?" My husband continued to push the discussion, "and what did you say?"

"Honey!" I said in a half-heartily taken aback voice, "I told him I couldn't because I'm married." I concluded by showing my husband our ring.

After a moment of silence, or more like a slight pause, something seemed to click in my husband's head, "Only because you're married?"

"I didn't mean it like that...you know what I meant..."

"It's ok honey, I won't get mad." These are words that came before many a fights and I was actually starting to get worried that I opened a bad can of worms.

"Just forget it, ok?"

"I don't want to just forget it, come on Michelle, I'm interested."

"How do I know if I wasn't married what I would have done?"

"Just try. Were you attracted to him?"

"Yeah, I mean he was a good looking guy, but so what?"

I was really on pins and needles, everything about his demeanour and tone told me that this was still very much playful, but something in the back of my mind told me that I was walking into a mine field. Part of me was just telling me to close right up and call it a night before anyone got hurt. The other part of me was telling me to lay out every single detail. I already told him that I thought the guy was hot, but this didn't seem like enough. He wanted me to say what I was thinking in graphic detail. I figured at this point, with my judgement somewhat impaired, any fight that came from this would be on him. After all, I don't ask him what he wants to do to every pair of tits his eyes follow on the beach.

We were sitting up at the headboard, the covers were pulled down exposing my breasts as we continued to talk about my suitor at the bar. Colin's eyes were animated, his hand, which was wrapped around my hip, was sweaty and I could tell his mouth was dry. I was amused just to see him like this.

"So would you have?"

"Would I have what? Fucked him?"

He swallowed hard and let out a barely audible, "yeah that?"

It was pretty clear that he wanted me to say it, "Yes, I would have fucked him, ok?"

He didn't respond with words. We were making out again. My mind was a little dizzy. I expected him to shun me for such a naughty admission. It's not the sort of thing most men would want to hear from their wives. He was looking at me intensely, the look was unmistakable lust. If I saw that look earlier I would have never asked him if he thought I was attractive.

He was holding me by the wrists and had me pinned very roughly against the top of the bed. Whatever it was that I did, it set him off in the most primitive way. I could feel his very hard cock pressed right up against me. I smiled to myself knowing that I was about to get exactly what I wanted.

"My dirty girl wants to get fucked?" My husband said as I tried to thrash about inciting him to hold me down harder.

"My wife wants to get her pussy fucked by a strange man?"

My heart started to pound even harder at his suggestion. He wasn't talking about us making love on that bed. We were wrapped up in the same fantasy and completely zoned in on each other. I felt like I was on some sort of drug. Still I had it in me to play a little coy. I wasn't going to quite answer him until he was completely worked up.

He let go of my wrists and let me slide a bit down on the bed so the hardness of the headboard was no longer pressing into my head. He used my momentary release from his grasp to free himself of his bathing suit. His cock was completely hard and straining. I was so impressed by the sight. In the past few years, we had been having a bit of trouble in that department. We brought some pills, but they were in my overnight case, and I knew he hadn't taken one. In fact, I had suspected that was the reason we hadn't been engaged in intercourse up to that point. The pills, while effective, cause him terrible headaches and I never ask him to take one. Whatever the case may have been, my bottoms were ripped from my skin in an animalistic fury.

We wrestled on the bed until he secured a completely dominant position over me. I was laying on my stomach with all of my husband's weight on my back, he had twirled my hair around his fist and was pushing my face firmly into the mattress?

He leaned forward and growled in my ear, "My wife wants her pussy fucked like a slut?" He jerked my hair back as if to tell me that he demanded an answer.

"Yes! I wanted him to fuck my pussy!" I let out in a desperate exhale.

"Say it again!" He pushed my face down harder into the mattress than before.

"I wanted him to fuck me!" I managed to say through the saliva that had built in my mouth, "I wanted him to take me out on his boat and fuck me so hard! I want to get fucked, I want to get fucked, I want to get fucked!"

With that my husband moved into position, he kept a firm grasp my hair that he had in his fist which caused my head to jerk back off the mattress. I loved being treated like this. He wasn't making love to me, he was fucking me with the intention of making me feel some pain.

"Ahhhh...ohhhhhh!!", I cried out in pleasured agony as he pushed inside of me as deep as he could.

He fucked me as hard as he could for about a minute before emptying inside of me. It was the most amazing sex that I had had in years. Under the circumstances I didn't expect him to do it for very long and the frantic spasm seemed better placed than a long drawn out affair. He stayed on top of me for a long time before releasing my hair from his grasp and rolling off me. He was still panting very hard and, for the first time, at a loss for words.

I broke the silence, "I'm not on birth control you know?"

After a short pause we were both laughing. Not because the statement wasn't factual, because it was, but because the lack of control our naughty game inspired in him. I really wasn't interested in getting all psychological about what had just happened I just knew it was fun and that we both had fun. My husband sat up against the headboard and I squirmed my way beside him and put my head on his lap. We stayed like that for a long time not exchanging our thoughts.

"What if we pretend you're not married?" He broke the prolonged silence.

"What do you mean?" I responded after taking my time to carefully playback what he just said in my mind.

"You know Michelle, what if just for down here...we pretend you're not married?"

"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe we were having this conversation.

"Why not? We're down here and nobody knows who we are." He sure sounded serious.

"Honey, don't be silly, you'd flip." I said in a half mocking manner.

"But you want to? Right?"

At this point, I could decide whether or not this was some sort of trap he was setting. I'm usually pretty good and sniffing those out, but this time there was no obvious tell. It seemed playful, but at the same time dead serious. A growing ball of nerves was building in my stomach and I tried to, in my less than sober mind, think of the right answers. If he was baiting some sort of hook his skill in that department had no doubt improved.

"I don't need anyone else... We're having a good time, right?" I figured he wanted his ego stroked a bit after setting it aside for our foray.

"Yeah, but I want this for you. Michelle, it's no secret that sex hasn't been good with us for a while."

"It's just different, that's all." I tried to protest, but he was right, I just didn't like to think he was putting all the blame on himself.

"It was good tonight." I reminded him.

"For the minute it lasted..." My husband and I tend to have a different definition of where sex starts and where it ends, for me it was the entire time on the bed and for him it was the moment of penetration, "and you didn't cum."

"Honey, I don't care about that." I was getting a bit exasperated, I didn't want this evening to turn into one of the pity parties that seemed to accompany our sex as of late.

My husband went on to explain more why he wanted me to do it. There was something different about this than the usual. He wasn't putting himself down in any serious way, more just talking about how our sex drives had been going in opposite directions. Some of what he was saying, in a broad sense, is true, at least for me. My sex drive really took off in my mid-30s and hadn't slowed down much in my early 40s. My husband, on the other hand, while he has stayed interested in sex, his desire or ability to do it frequently has no doubt diminished.

A lot of times, in bed, I will just do him with my hand to help him get to sleep, but it doesn't maintain enough for intercourse. The transition in our love life is a source of great frustration for him that he worries about a lot more than I do. It's a subject, under most circumstances, that I try to avoid like the plague. This time, we spoke for hours, even about all the minute details of our struggles. I was impressed that he wasn't placing blame on himself or taking it personally.

"Do you think you could find him again?"

"I guess so, as long as he goes back to the same bar, he at least seemed like a regular."

I'm not sure the exact moment that this changed from playful and dirty sex talk into something that we were actually planning, but the transition had clearly occurred. I felt as if I sobered up on the spot. We started talking about the details and about having safe sex. The plan was really quite simple, I was just going to go to the bar, try to get his attention and let him know that I was free to explore the island. Flirting sort of comes naturally to me, so I didn't really have any doubts that I could pull this off; unless, of course, he wasn't anywhere to be found.

I drifted off into a deep sleep entwined with my husband. The emotions that bounced back and forth in my mind that night were reflected in my dreams. I had scattered and lucid dreams, which were impossible to piece together coherently. The only thing they had in common was the feeling of being alone. In one vivid snapshot, I entered our living room where I was introduced to my husband's girlfriend. I felt intense and helpless pangs of jealously. As one scene cut to the next that feeling remained intact, it was as if my brain was trying to turn the tables and tell me what it would feel like. Could he really want this?

I woke in an empty room, I looked at the time, and it was early afternoon. We had been up until 4:00am talking. I felt a little groggy, but not hung over in any serious way. I stumbled around the room looking for my husband. Well, it was clear he hadn't rolled off the bed and it was clear he wasn't in the bathroom, so I had the room to myself. I looked at myself in the mirror confirming what I felt on every inch of my body, I needed a shower. Under the running water, I began to think about the night that past.

"This whole thing is silly." I thought to myself in incredulous amusement.

"He was drunk to, there is not a chance in hell he meant any of that; he's probably embarrassed."

"Still it was a fun night..."

While rejecting the sincerity of our conversation I was undergoing my entire beauty regimen, skipping no steps along the way. I was applying, scrubbing, plucking, shaving, waxing, moisturizing, cleansing, spraying, glossing and brushing. For someone not planning on getting laid I was spending an inordinate amount of time on this. I was trying to figure out the best way to cover some of my eye wrinkles without using much make-up when I heard Colin come in.

"Where've you been?" I yelled from behind the bathroom mirror.

"Just went to town to get a few things."

"K, be out in a sec."

Everything seemed normal, it was as if nothing had been said.

"You went off the resort?"

"Yeah, I was up early and wanted to look around."

I looked through my luggage for another bikini before settling on one with yellow birds against a deep blue background. It was a two piece; I had been wearing them on this vacation after avoiding them for years. I put of a pair of jean shorts over top, tight to my skin but not short enough to make it look like I was trying to be a teenager. I fumbled through the rest of my clothes until I found a button up shirt that, more or less, matched my bikini; that way I could leave the top four or five buttons undone. I found my cute wide brimmed island hat and put on a pair of sunglasses that matched. I'm not much a jewelry person in general, I don't even always wear my wedding band, but I made sure I had it on that afternoon.

Despite dolling myself up, I was convinced that what we talked about was just a fantasy, nevertheless it made me feel sexy. I certainly was not about the push the issue or even bring it up. Certain things are just bedtime games and have no place in the light of the sun. Even though the talk had gotten quite serious, I wasn't really feeling let down as I didn't have the right to expect it anyway.

"So what do you want to do today? I think they have..." I was cut off before I could finish.

"I thought you were going into town today?" My husband said rather bluntly.

I looked down at the bag on the table and noticed there was a box of condoms in it. It took me a split second to realize they were for me and that he hadn't forgotten our talk.

"You mean it?"

"Of course I do, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"I mean sure, but it wouldn't have been the first time he said something he didn't mean." I thought to myself but avoided injecting snark into this strange proposition by saying it.

"I don't even know if he will be there. Will you really be ok?"

I'm not sure anything he said could have really convinced me that he would really be ok. I was thinking about all the fights we had engaged in over the past 20 years if he even thought I was flirting. To say this change in attitude was a complete 180 would not have been an overstatement.

"Honey, you don't even like it if men look at me. Are you really ok?"

"Just have a good time dear." He really did seem at peace with this.

This was too easy. My completely sober mind started looking for other angles, "Is this because you want to screw other women?"

"Michelle! I would never!" His face had twisted into incredulous shock, almost like I asked him if he would eat a puppy.

Even so, the sincerity of his protest was hard to deny. It seemed a little bit misplaced for the gander considering what the new rules were for the goose.

"It never crossed my mind." He continued in the manner of stating a fact rather than trying to prove a futile case.

"Ok, because I don't want you to." As hypocritical as it is, it was the truth, I didn't want him to be with any woman, the jealousy would have been too much for me.

"Michelle, it's not even an issue, just enjoy the evening of single life."

"Ok, well I guess I will finish my make-up and then go for a walk." I said in a tone that invited him to have any last minute objections which may have come over him.

All that was left was to put some highlighter around my eyes and a bit of light make-up. Make-up and hot weather are not the best of friends so I am careful not to overdo it. I spent most of the hour that it took me to finish my make-up looking in the mirror and trying to decide if I really could. I must have gone back and forth 100 times before settling on, "yes I can."

"Ok, well I will go look for him but I'm not promising anything." It felt so absurd that he might be let down if I didn't find him, but we had clearly entered the realm of absurdity.

I took a few condoms and put them in my purse. I made sure my husband saw, just so there could be no confusion as to what we were talking about at the very moment that I was leaving. He nodded in approval and I left into the warmth of the afternoon heat.

I was around 2:00 pm; the bar was full at this time with people looking for some shade from the hottest part of the day. It looked the same as it did the day before and likely the same as it looks every day of the year. The typical bamboo wooden look with road signs and bright colours was the motif. For whatever reason, this one seemed to have gotten something just right; it was more active than most. It felt very foreign to be there by myself, not just to be there without my husband, but just to be in a bar by myself. Aside from the odd hotel when traveling for work, being at a bar alone is not something I had ever done. Those bars are usually half empty and quiet this was the opposite of both.

I caught a few smiles upon arrival, along with some darting eyes fleeing like they had committed the crime of looking. I didn't know what to do with myself, it must have looked like I was waiting for someone. I nervously scanned the area while standing behind one of the posts that supported the hut-like structure over the bar. My nerves started to overtake the bravado I had conned myself into in front of the bathroom mirror. I felt so stupid, I was completely embarrassing myself and, just as bad, Colin would always be able to hang this over me. I had to do something, so I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey sour to occupy my hands.

I stayed at the bar and slowly sipped my drink. I figured a single woman standing at a bar is the universal sign of availability. Still, nobody was talking to me. My mind was becoming overly cluttered with thoughts, to the point where my eyes were not focusing well. I must have looked completely spaced out. My most nagging concern was that my husband was going to have second thoughts while I wasn't there. This was so impulsive that if disaster was written on it, it would have been written in neon lights. I was also concerned for my safety, this was the very definition of strange man. He was pretty enough, but all I really knew about him was that he aggressively hits on women at bars. What if I went with him and then changed my mind. I had every reason to turn around and barricade myself behind the safety of the resort gates, but I didn't, I just stayed at the bar and sipped my drink while running a poisonous internal dialogue.