The Storm

Jaden: I'm telling you, she would be in. Immediately. She's been masturbating exclusively to lesbian porn for over a year.

Etienne: That doesn't mean anything. Girls are better at eating girls. Sometimes we just want to see something that would feel good.

Jaden: Is that what you do?

Etienne: I want to do the eating. Acts of service, my dear Jaden.

Jaden: Trust me. If you came on to her, she would respond, and she would go home with you, and she would sleep with you.

Etienne: Food for thought. Oh, so that trip went definite. I'm leaving day after tomorrow.

Jaden: Holy shit! Isn't your husband pissed?

Etienne: Of course he's pissed, but what can I do? They didn't give me a new title so I could reject assignments. I'll try to write to you. I'll probably be really horny and have very little to do in the evenings.

Jaden: Oh, right. E-the-introvert. You should get out there, rub some elbows, climb the ladder.

Etienne: I know. We'll see. I usually have the obligatory drink, which I nurse until it's mostly alcohol flavored water, and then I 'have work to do' back in my room. (Psst... work is code for masturbating).

Jaden: (I figured). Where did you say you were going?

Etienne: Key West. A place called La Puerta Del Sol.

Jaden: Sounds expensive.

Etienne: And they wonder why shareholders get pissed about executive spending. It's okay, there will be shareholders there (I think?); they expect to have their asses kissed.

Jaden: You gonna take some skimpy bathing suits?

Etienne: There's a pool party at 'the big pool' on the last night. I probably have to wear some kind of swimsuit. There aren't going to be many women there, so I'm just going to have it on under a coverup.

Jaden: Well, I'm probably going to be busy. I spend too much time talking to you when I should be working. Now, I have a few days to catch up.

Etienne: Aw... boo. It's okay, you take care of your shit.

Jaden: I'm curious. Do you think you'd find a girl there to play with?

Etienne: Are you kidding? I can fantasize about cheating all day long, but I'm not brave enough to actually do it.

Jaden: What do you call what we're doing?

Etienne: Talking.

Jaden: You wouldn't even get with a woman? Look, I get it, but... does it really count if you both have lady parts?

Etienne: Lucifer? Is that you?

Jaden: I want to say something funny here, but I'm not going to. You need sex, E. If not sex... something. Anything. Make out a little. Three years is a long fucking time. Just think about it.

Etienne: I have co-workers there.

Jaden: E, I have claimed you. You're mine. I want you to have sex on your trip.

Etienne: ... I'll think about it.

Jaden: You'll follow my instructions.

Etienne: I've never picked up a girl before. What would I even do?

Jaden: How would a guy pick you up? Someone that is actually good at it?

Etienne: Wouldn't know. No one has been good at it.

Jaden: I expect obedience.

Etienne: They're just fantasies. But it's exciting to think about.

Jaden: You mean, if I showed up there and demanded you pick up my wife, take her to your room, and fuck her, you would dare defy me?

Etienne: Oh, you really think you could find me?

Jaden: I could find you in a sandstorm. I'm drawn to you. You're mine.

Etienne: ...

Jaden: Answer the question. Don't make me ask again.

Etienne: Uh... yeah, yeah I would probably do it.

Jaden: Tell the truth.

Etienne: I don't think I could resist you. Truth.

Jaden: G'night!

Etienne: WTF.

Etienne: Jaden.

Etienne: Well shit.

x x x

Have you ever realized you were drowning in boredom. Like, you're so bored you've actually forgotten to breathe and you gasp in the middle of the meeting and all eyes glare at you and wish you would light yourself on fire? (But Amy, the head of accounting, actually says it under her breath? The bitch. I know she ate my coconut yogurt.)

That didn't happen to me. But it happened in my head while I was trying to remember to breathe through that stupid fucking meeting.

I like my job. Hang on, no. I liked my job. But at some point, the need for money hijacked my need for job satisfaction. That's a nasty surprise when it happens.

Anyway, fuck all that.

Now, I'm at a pool. Ask me if I want to be at a pool.

I do not.

I love swimming. I've always been a swimmer. I was a lifeguard all through college, and I usually have a gym membership so I can make it to a pool once a week.

But you know what's not fun? Parading around half naked in front of the executive team and feeling greasy, tequila-soaked eyes smear themselves all over my body. In the past, I've been hit on by more than one married man in the company. Clearly I'm not a saint. But interoffice affairs are so far off the table, they're underground. So far this evening, I've only had longer conversations with my boss and a couple female shareholders. I've done a good job of excusing myself from everything else. I think half the reason I got this promotion was so that we don't look like a boys' club. I know my role. I'm doing my job.

I'm easily the youngest woman here, though. The eyes. Oh, the eyes are on me. You know what sucks? Constantly looking at my feet so men don't make eye contact with me. Normally, this isn't a problem. I wear heavy clothing to work to obscure my body and keep my glasses on and wear my hair ballerina-tight.

Dudes don't think about these things. It's okay, though. I understand what it's like to have a raging libido. There are five... no six dudes here that I would love to absolutely destroy me. Especially Taylor Christen, fuck that guy keeps it tight. Of course, the CFO would be that hot. But, again, career suicide, thy name is sex.

I wouldn't do it anyway. I'll just fuck myself again tonight, like I did last night, like I did the night before that. And when I woke up each morning. And during the afternoon breaks when I sneaked back to my room.

I've done my part. My drink is alcohol-flavored water. It's time to get out of here.

Placing my glass on a tray, I let my boss know I need to make some phone calls. He doesn't question me.

As I'm walking back along the winding path through the villas, the purple afterglow of sunset bathes a little grotto. The couple standing next to a roll-away bar laughs with the bartender and sips their drinks. The woman is older, maybe seven, eight years my senior with streaked, dusty-blonde hair hanging to her toned shoulders. Her body looks 20-something. I'm pretty sure her tits are fake, which is a bit of a turn-off for me, but I can also see the nipple rings through her tube top. Her smile tapers as but doesn't go away completely. I don't think her husband realizes she's looking at me.

As I only now realize I'm just standing here, touching my neck. Staring at her.

I make a hard left and look for the restroom sign I just past.

What are you doing, E? Are you fucking kidding me?

Do it. Get her.

Get out of my head, Jaden.

The restroom is unisex but empty. I fish through my clutch and pull out the basics. Brush out my lashes. Just a bit of lip gloss. I have great lips. People tell me that all the time. It doesn't hurt to draw a little attention to them. My hair comes down in dark waves, falling down my back, and I spend a minute pushing it behind my ears. Pulling it out again. Pushing it back... Hm. Yeah, pushing it back. Florida is fucking hot.

Opening my coverup, I let it hang off my shoulders. This two-piece is pale blue, like my eyes, and doesn't rise very high. I wanted to bring something black, but I didn't have time to shop. Also it's fucking October. Most of my other suits are one-piece athletic suits. Maybe this blue one is a little plain, but it holds my tits up. That's nice.

Glasses on or off?

You know what, glasses on. If she doesn't like me for me, well I shouldn't be doing this anyway. I don't think anything will happen. But I'm just going to live a little.

Jaden would be so proud. Maybe I'll write him tonight and tell him about the time I almost picked up another man's wife.

When I get back to the grotto, the couple is gone.

Meandering through the resort, I make my way down to the main building with the desk and the restaurants and more bars than I can count. I'm sure I'll see some coworkers here at some point, but I'm over it. This is my last night before I go back to the domestic marathon. I should be spontaneous, right? I used to be.

Maybe I can eye-fuck a cutie or two, actually drink a drink, and go for a walk or something.

The bars aren't terribly crowded. I can see from up here on the terrace that more people are down by the boats. So, it's easy enough to find a seat near a cute bartender. She's everything you'd expect. Young, tattoos, nose ring. She pours a top shelf rum in front of me and pushes it over.

"Oh, I didn't order this."

"Complements of the guy at end of the bar."

I look down the bar. ... There's an older man in a loud shirt talking to another older man in a louder shirt. Neither of them are looking at me. I guess... that's not the guy?

I prefer to see the person I'm accepting a drink from, but I feel pretty, so I sip. It's good. Really good.

"I'm sorry, what is this?" I ask the bartender.

"The Ambassador," she says. "Thirty bucks an ounce. Someone really likes you. And uh... nice pull."

"Pull..."

"Yeah. Guy was HOT."

"Did you see where he went?"

She looks around and then shakes her head.

"Did he leave a tab open?"

"Paid cash," she says. "Don't look so worried. Thirty bucks plus tip? He'll find you."

That's what worries me. I run a finger over my engagement ring. But like... how hot, exactly? I take another sip.

Damn.

"Don't turn around," sounds a male voice behind me, "Etienne..."

Shit.

...Shit.

Naturally, I want to turn around... but I don't. Because this voice, I'm not familiar with it. Could it...? No, that would be insane. Wait... No. Maybe?

"Remember what I told you?" he said, his mouth close to my ear. "You're mine. I've claimed you. And you're going to follow my instructions. Tell me you understand."

My blood goes from ice water to liquid fire. My heart that had skipped a beat is now thundering in my rib cage. The sick, nauseated feeling in my stomach moved through my body and is now an aching need between my legs.

This is real.

He's not supposed to be here. How did he get here? How did he find me? This was never supposed to happen.

"Etienne. I don't like repeating myself."

I swallow hard. I just want to look at him. To kiss him. To feel his arms around me. "I understand." The words scratch out of my dry throat.

Is this real?

"My wife, Christine, is going to show up at the bar. I've told her I made arrangements with a woman for her."

"She thinks I'm a hooker?" I hiss.

"She knows you're a friend."

"But... what does she know?"

"Buy her a drink. Invite her to your room. Fuck her. Keep your phone on, and text me your room number. I'm going to send you instructions after her first orgasm. You are not to have one. You are mine."

"Jaden..."

"It pleases me when you're nervous."

The butterflies in my stomach all beat their wings at once.

"Fuck my wife, Etienne. You won't get another chance."

"I haven't been with a girl since college."

"You're welcome."

I'm not a risk taker. I don't have big life experiences. Safe. I do safe things. I've been paying into my 401k since I was 22. My credit score has been over 800 for the last five years. I drive a fucking Accord. Safe safe safe.

This is not safe. What will happen? What will happen if I can't get enough of women? What if I'm not okay in a sexless marriage after this?

But already I'm not okay. This condition isn't my fault. It's not my husband's fault either.

"Jaden?"

Silence responds. I turn and I'm alone.

Maybe she won't come. Maybe she'll chicken out.

I'd chicken out.

I play with my engagement ring. It clinks on the glass as I sip the rum. Courage. I feel sick. I feel wet. I think my nipples are showing through my top.

The bartender works at the end of the bar. She's looking at me. She smiles. My hand trembles on the glass, and I take a sip.

I could just go back to my room.

It would be that easy.

The stool moves beside me, and a finely manicured olive-skinned hand pulls it back. I glance at her, and she greets me with a friendly smile. My smile doesn't reach my eyes, eyes looking down at my glass. I need to slow my breathing.

"Hi," she says. Her voice is soft. There's a waver in that simple syllable.

Something about that waver...

"Hello," I say, turning my head toward her. Courage, E. "What are you drinking?"

"Soda and lime," she says.

Jaden said a drink. I look over my shoulder and quickly scan the bar. Through the wide open window, I can hear the people down by the boats whooping. A drink.

I lift my hand, and the bartender nods attentively. "G and T," I say. My voice sounds steady. Feels steady. That's air control. I was a jazz vocalist before my musical dreams crashed at the ripe age of 27 on the tail end of a marriage proposal.

"I don't drink, really," says the woman. Jaden's wife. Miss Jaden if you're nasty.

"You do tonight," I say..

Her cheeks bloom, and a half smile reaches her lips. Kissable lips. Oh my god I'm going to kiss her tonight.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I've never done this before."

"I do it all the time."

Her smile falters.

I laugh. Still steady. "I've never done this either. But it's okay. We have someone watching over us. We're not going to screw this up."

She grins now. Wow. I can't help but grin in return.

"I hope you're not referring to God," she says.

"Is that what he calls himself in bed?"

She laughs openly. "I like your voice. It's very... uh... melodic."

"I like your boobs," I say. "Very booby."

A gin and tonic lands in front of Miss Jaden. When I look up, the bartender is grinning at me. I open my clutch to fish for my card. "It's on the house," she says, smiling. "Good luck."

"She doesn't need luck," says Miss Jaden, taking her drink and hitting it pretty hard. The bartender gives me a thumbs up and meanders down the bar.

"Not even a little?" I say.

"You were commenting on my breasts."

"How about you tell me when you started liking girls?"

She bites her lip and takes another sip. I drop my elbow onto the bar and lean on my palm. It's a classic cleavage reveal. Miss Jaden looks at my chest and then quickly away.

"I'm not really sure," she says. "Maybe always, if I'm honest. Just... never did anything about it."

"Except masturbate to lesbian porn."

"He told you that?!"

"I was just doing my homework," I say, pushing my glasses up my nose.

"He said you were smart."

"Everyone is good at something."

"And what are you good at?" she asks, leaning forward.

"You're going to find out."

Her smile fades, her lips parting. The light plays off her chest as it rises and falls. "When did you start liking girls?"

"I had a best friend when I was little. Like, four. We'd play house, and we'd kiss. I think I knew we weren't supposed to. But we would anyway. Then, I don't know, puberty happened, and I would grind on my pillow thinking of whoever popped into my head. There were just as many girls as guys... well, maybe more girls."

"So you've had a lot of practice then," she says.

"With pillows? Absolutely."

She chuckles. "Kissing girls."

"A little. It's been a while."

"You think you've still got it?"

"Let's find out..." And I lean forward.

Tingles shoot down my spine as our lips touch, soft and warm. My lip gloss is lemon, and it grips her stained lips. The tip of her tongue touches mine, and I taste the alcohol, and something minty.

Ours lips drag at one another's, the soft tug as she draws me in, my tongue feeling for her upper lip as hers sweeps along my bottom. We inhale sharply, almost as one, and a delicate hum escapes my throat as the kiss intensifies. Only for a moment, and then she breaks...

When my eyes open, she's staring at me.

"Do you always sing when you're kissing?"

"If it's an amazing kiss, I do."

She looks at me, her nostrils flaring, eyes narrow, breathing shallow. I can see the pulse flicker in her neck. "You're very good at that. I like your mouth."

I lean forward and nuzzle her nose, whispering, "Do you want to know what else my mouth can do?"

Miss Jaden, Christine that is, nods as I grab her hand and help her down from the seat. Her hand is sweating. Mine probably is, too. And I couldn't give a shit. She's shorter than me by a few inches. It feels right to lead her. Once the ceiling transitions to sky, I place my hand on the small of her back.

When we're between the villas, she grabs my hand and pulls me into a doorway. "Sorry, I can't wait," she says, tilting up for a kiss. She takes my glasses off and settles her lips on mine.

My hands find hers, and I lift them over her head, pressing her into the doorframe. She moans into my mouth as I work my lips over hers. Our tongues mingle, and I find myself breathing hard as one of her hands finds my breast. She squeezes and then pinches my nipple through the fabric of my bikini top. Our lips slide over one another's, and I lower one of my hands to grab the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair.

"I want my mouth on your pussy," I say.

"I want that, too," she moans and then sucks on my lip.

"Hurry," I say, kissing her cheek and nuzzling her with my nose. "Before I take you right here."

She tilts my head up, kisses my chin, my neck. "Yes..." Her tongue flicks at my throat. "Yes, I want it."

I chuckle, whether from a tickle in my neck or euphoria from a pinched nipple. "That means we have to stop for just... just a second oh god you're hot." And I kiss her hard, pressing our foreheads together.

"Okay, okay," she says, trying to back up but having nowhere to go. Instead she shoves my backward gently, and we come away from the doorframe together, holding each other, neither one of us able to overcome the ache of separation.

Somehow we do, but our movement is more urgent now. She's pulling me forward, and the effort to maintain my footing is enough to keep me from grabbing her again. I nearly eat cobblestones while I'm distracted by her juicy ass.

"My room is this way," I say.

The door is hardly closed before I press my mouth again to hers, and I'm yanking off her wrap. She has my coverup on the floor, and we're giggling, trying to remove each other's bikini tops.

"Wait," she says, grinning. "Let me go first."

I back up just a step, and Christine lifts her top up and over her head, her shapely, pert breasts jiggling for the briefest moment.

I bite the tip of my thumb and squirm in place. "How is this happening?"

She touches one of her nipples and begins to roll it in her fingers. "Now you."

As my top goes up, I feel the heft of my own endowments drop. Christine is on my nipples before I can throw my bikini top on the ground, kissing and licking, two hands cradling my breast.

I pull her mouth up to mine and kiss her as we stumble over to the bed. I shove my backpack, my laptop, my conference clothes all onto the floor and pull her down on top of me. Our topless figures slide against one another, the warm, heavy softness of her breasts and the drag of her long, hard nipples moving up down my body until her head is once more over my chest.

Straddling me, Christine returns to kneading and sucking on my tits, her opposite hand manipulating my unsucked nipple. Each time she pulls one into her mouth, my body shudders with need. I push her hair behind her ears, cup her face in my hands and pull her up for a kiss. It's not too much effort for me to scoot down further, encourage her to lower one of her own nipples into my mouth. My fingers glide along her back as I kiss and lick those erect porn-star nipples, forgetting the world the moment her feminine erection yields ever so slightly to my love bites.