Swingers in Aruba

by

David Hawthorne

Obelisk Shorts

Smashword Edition

2012

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Copyright © 2012 by David Hawthorne

This story originally appeared in the anthology, Temptations, from Xcite Boooks.

All rights reserved

Cover by NeuVisage, used with permission.

Andrea and I talked for months about a vacation on Aruba. We thought the trip would set off the loin fires again. Our martial coitus had dwindled down to once a week, if that. Sex had become a mechanical thing and we both realized this was not a good thing, as we’d seen it happen to other couples who were soon on the road to the city of divorce.

We’d been married for eight years. We wanted to be married for many more, until we grew old and died.
Andrea is 5’10’ tall with long blonde hair that reaches half way down her back. She has beautiful well-defined legs. They are not muscular but with just the right amount of muscle to look toned. Her stomach is flat and has just a hint of a six-pack. Her ass is one of her finest assets. It is nice and firm and round. I call it a bubble butt. Her breasts are the thing that draws the most attention, with very little sag and her nipples are almost always erect. Even when she wears a bra you can detect the hint of nipple under her clothes.

Any man would wonder how I could have gotten bored with that. The intricacies of marriage, when you’re with someone 24/7, can never be figured out.

We splurged for first class seats; we wanted to travel in style.
With the time change it was very late, or very early morning, when we arrived. We reached the hotel with relief and got to our room fast. The sun hadn’t come up yet.

The room was another item we splurged for. It was large and very tastefully decorated. There was a plush king sized bed, a sitting area with a couch and two chairs, and a Jacuzzi that could easily maintain six people, built into the floor in the bathroom. The bathroom was all marbled and the shower could also accommodate at least six people together. The shower had eight water nozzles all around.

I stepped onto the balcony and because of the darkness could not see the ocean.

I could hear it.

The waves were rhythmic and soothing.

Yes, this is what I needed: to be away from the city, London, the whole bloody rat race.
We had slept some on the plane so we were rested and very excited about the room and the fact that we were finally here.
I stood on the balcony and Andrea joined me, wrapped an arm around me and laid her head on my shoulder.

‘We are here, can you believe it?’ she said.
‘It has been a long time coming,’ I said.

There were times it seemed we’d never get around to this much-needed getaway.

She kissed me. I kissed her back and ran my hand to her firm arse. There was no panty line. I reached to her waist and again no panty line.
‘Fancy what you’re feeling, my love?’
I reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it up so my hands could feel her buttocks.
She said, ‘I didn’t even bring a pair of panties with me.’
My cock grew hard just hearing those sexy words. I kissed her again and ran my hand to her breast.

She did not wear a bra.
‘You did tell me to pack light,’ she reminded me.
I reached for the buttons on her dress and unbuttoned them down to her waist; reached my hand inside her dress and cupped one of her breasts. She started to breathe heavily as I traced my fingertips along the outline of her breasts then slowly across a taut nipple. She moaned as my fingers danced like wild natives around her areola.

I placed my other hand on her shoulder to pull open her dress; it fell off of her shoulder and went to the floor. She stepped out of it and used her foot to move it aside.

She was on the balcony of our room completely naked. I don’t think she was too worried about being seen.
She reached for my belt and unfastened it. She unzipped the fly. She reached for my hard cock and started to stroke it.