The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

emptied her glass and twirled a finger in the air to suggest a refill was in order. The bartender, a young blonde woman, nodded. After some quick mixing and shaking, a fresh drink appeared. The bartender took our orders and was back in no time as we’d order mojitos.

“So,” asked Chloe. “Vacation, huh? I like...” She drifted before completing her sentence.

“Yes,” I said. “And you? You work here?”

“Me?” she asked, as if someone else had joined our conversation. “No. I’m off now. See? I’m sitting here now.”

“I see.”

“She’s so pretty,” said Chloe, who then looked at me. “Is she your wife? That’s okay.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Do you like girls?” She was now speaking to Marci. “I look at you and I’m thinking, oh yeah… You know?”

“Love ‘em,” said Marci. She turned to offer me a private wide-eyed look. I interpreted it as a “Can you believe this?” gesture.

“Me too,” said Chloe. “But he’s okay. I like men sometimes.”

After a few more volleys of increasingly severe miscomprehension, Marci and I stood to leave. Chloe, feeling she was now part of our party, also stood.

“Just give me a sec, okay?” She downed the rest of her drink. “Okay.”

“We’re just going to bed now,” I said.

“Okay.”

“I mean, we’re going alone.”

“Alone?”

“I mean, just the two of us.”

“Am I coming too?”

“No. But thanks anyway.”

“I don’t mind. You can fuck me too.”

“No, really. It’s not necessary.”

“Maybe later?” She regained her stool and waved for the bartender. “I’ll be here.”

∞∞∞

“That was crazy,” said Marci, once out of the bar area. “What a loon.”

“I know. I feel bad now. I shouldn’t have teased her.”

“I wondered what you were aiming for there.”

“Nothing, really. I just thought it would be fun. I’m sorry. It was a bit low-life of me.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

“It was an interesting evening. First, you’re mauled in a bar, and then hit on by a lesbian. What’s it like being so popular?”

“You get used to it.”

Once in the room, Marci began tidying up. Neither of us had unpacked. Without asking, she aimed for my suitcase, emptied its contents into drawers and onto hangers, then took care of her own bag. It wasn’t her job to take care of my stuff, but I loved that she did. She truly was like a vacation wife. Susan would have done this too. She had probably unpacked for Greg.

Once satisfied with her tidy-up, Marci removed her dress and bra. She briefly massaged her breasts to welcome them to their new freedom and then looked indecisive.

“What?” I asked. “You seem suspended in thought.”

“I’m not sure which side of the bed you’ll want here.”

“I usually sleep on the right.”

“Yeah, that’s the door side.”

“You can have it.”

“That’s not it. You see, the balcony is on the other side.”

“So?” I wasn’t tuning into her dilemma. “What of it?”

“If someone breaks in, are they more likely to come through the door or the balcony?”

“I give up.”

“Seriously, Ryan! If I’m in a hotel, I can’t sleep on the intruder-side of the bed.”

“I’d say it’s a toss-up. If I were breaking in to rape someone, I’d probably come through the window, or in this case, the balcony.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“If you want, I’m sure I can get Chloe up here. Then you can have the middle. While the intruder is raping her, or me for that matter, you can escape.”

“You’re so funny, you know it? You should see what I put in my diary about you.”

“Take the balcony side. We’re two floors up.”

Marci pulled down the top sheet and paused. “I’m sexed out. Is that okay? Anyway, I know you banged your other wife tonight.”

I wondered if she would have assumed as much though we were only separated for fifteen minutes at best. For many married couples, five minutes would often suffice.

“You don’t mind, do you?” I asked. “It was unexpected.”

“God no. She’s your wife... Hey, do you care if I sleep in my panties? I wasn’t kidding when I said mom told us to always be wearing our panties. She didn’t let us sleep nude. She said only ‘racy’ girls slept that way.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I truly didn’t. I loved women in their panties, and perhaps even more than I loved them naked. It was definitely a thing for me.

She climbed into bed, laid flat on her back, and pulled the top-sheet to her waist. With a few final adjustments, she was set for the night, and padded the bed next to her, indicating I should join her.

“My mother told me to always brush my teeth before bed,” I said this in a holier-than-thou tone.

“Fuck, Ryan. Really? I just got settled.”

I went into the bathroom and she padded in behind me with her toiletry kit. “I’m not flossing.” She challenged me for sink space, even though there were two of them, and commenced brushing her teeth. She was rather robust in her movements, which set her breasts to swinging back and forth. Noticing my stare, she crossed an arm over herself feigning modesty, spit, and returned to the bed. I tidied up the sink and joined her in bed, leaving my briefs on.

As I settled in she leaned over me and exhaled a large volume of peppermint flavored vapors.

“See,” she said. “I’ve been a good girl, Daddy.”

“Oh, please. Don’t go there... I already feel a bit slummy after that scene with Chloe.”

She returned her head to her pillow. “God, I know. I feel sorry for her.”

“Why?”

“Living that kind of life, scoring lonely women she’ll never see again. It gives me the creeps. Plus, her mouth is probably a nursery for  trichomonas, that and a dozen other STDs.”

“Yikes.”

“I know.”

“Again, I’m sorry I engaged her. It was my fault.”

“She started it.” I knew Marci was referring to our first stop at the bar that afternoon.

“I guess so.”

“To be honest, I was afraid you wanted me to hook up with her.”

“No, that wasn’t where I was aiming at all.” It really wasn’t, though the idea of her with another woman was not void of interest, and