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I currently regret that decision.
“Mexico was… well, it was perfect. The weather, the food, the drinks, the company,” he says as he leans over and kisses me on the jaw. “Every single thing about the trip was perfect. Well, except the fact that we had to leave.”
Wyatt laughs and sits up to match Nate’s position. “I couldn’t be happier for you two. You needed a getaway after the last few years, and it sounds like you picked the perfect place. Tell us about it. We have a big anniversary coming up, too.”
Alex rolls his eyes and skims his hand up and down Wyatt’s spine, pausing briefly at the base each time. A casual bystander who doesn’t know Alex might think his actions are normal, but I know better.
His behavior is odd and has been since he and Wyatt got here. It makes me want to get to the bottom of it before they leave.
I stand and walk towards the window as Nate regales them with stories about the excursions we took. Snorkeling, salsa lessons, couples massages… but he leaves out the parts I expected him to want to share.
Because he certainly liked to share in Mexico.
We learned a lot on vacation. Like… a lot. We learned what we like and don’t like, what kinks rev our engines and which ones kill the mood faster than the blink of an eye.
Voyeurism? Hell, yes. It’s like live-action porn.
Dominance and submission? Only if the mood is perfect.
Bondage? Nope, not for us.
Degradation? Absolutely not.
Then, we met a couple at dinner our second night there. Alan and Marsha shared their experiences with us from nearly thirty years of marriage. And while they tried many things, they always kept coming back to one thing.
Alan loves the idea of Marsha having sex with other men. She can go out as often as she likes as long as she always comes back to him by the end of the night and tells Alan all about it.
From the moment they started talking about it, I could see Nate wanted to try it. We fantasized together about me with other men so many times I’d lost count. And I always told him two things would have to happen for me to even consider it.
One, we’d have to be so far away from home that nobody would ever recognize us.
Two, I’d have to be borderline drunk the first time. Sober enough to give informed consent, but drunk enough that I wouldn’t be nervous. It straddled a fine line, but a necessary one.
That night, Alan and Marsha took us under their wings and introduced us around to several men until I hit it off with one of them.
And that night, I had sex with a man that wasn’t my husband.
All in, I fucked twelve men that weren’t my husband while on vacation. Twelve men in five days. Some of them more than once.
Sometimes Nate watched.
Sometimes he joined.
And sometimes he left and then begged me to describe every single detail while he reclaimed me.
Reclaimed… a new word in our vocabulary. One we learned from Alan and Marsha.
The wine and a full belly mixed with the memories of high-caliber fucking for five days straight has me pressing my thighs together as I sit back down on the couch next to my husband. It has me closing my eyes and reveling in the fullness between my legs from the plug.
I trail my hand down his hip and curl my fingers underneath his thigh. Squeezing once, I capture his attention. “You’re not telling them everything, baby.”
Nate’s eyes snap to mine, disbelief overtaking his blue depths. “I’m not?”
I shake my head. “Maybe you should get me another glass of wine and let me tell them the rest.”
Chapter 7
when pigs fly
