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

A guarded expression tightened her facial muscles. She looked at Marci, then me, then back to Marci. “Marci,” she said. “How do you feel about Greg seeing you naked?”

That was an interesting twist. I hadn’t thought of asking Marci how she felt about it. I even felt a sense of ownership, thanks to our history, about who could see Marci naked. This was all very bizarre but also very exhilarating. The weekend was taking an interesting turn though I was wholly unprepared mentally for it to do so. I felt even more panic.

With the focus now on her, Marci seemed bashful.

“I’m kind of excited, I guess,” she said. “I mean, it’s a goofy idea and everything, but I’m game. But I have to warn you, Ryan.” She paused to cup her boobs. “My gals are hanging a little lower these days.”

“Nonsense! Your boobs are fine!” said Susan. “Now, do you mean ‘aroused’ when you say excited?”

“Are you?” asked Marci.

Susan didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, kind of. Is that okay, Ryan?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I think we all may be responding the same way. It’s a sexy idea, or naughty… I guess we’re just exploring how we’d feel about it, letting ourselves experiment. I’m using a lot of words to just say ‘yes’. So, Marci, what is it. Susan asked you a question. Are you aroused at the idea?”

Marci smiled and shivered slightly with what I guessed was nervous energy. “I’m kind of aroused by the idea too.” She bent over so she could see my lap and smiled. She looked at Susan. “Ryan is too.”

I looked down and noticed my erection tent-poling my gym shorts, and that it was leaking my excitement.

It was nothing Marci hadn’t seen before.

“Honey,” said Susan, in a tone that suggested delicacy but soon proved to be otherwise. “Do you have a boner?”

Marci laughed, most likely due to Susan’s use of “boner”. She seldom used truly vulgar words whereas Marci used them liberally as if they earned her bonus points she could later redeem for a new microwave.

“I don’t think there’s a good answer to that question, honey.”

“It’s okay. I’ve just said I’m a little excited too. So is Marci.”

The idea of Susan and Marci experiencing pre-coital wetness didn’t help my situation. These women were within three feet of me. Their pheromones were filling the airwaves. Of course, my body was responding. This talk, just mere speculation at this point, was ratcheting my libido up to eleven. It seldom went there anymore. I felt like a teenager moments away from fondling a nubile breast for the first time.

“So it’s settled,” said Marci.

Neither Susan nor I spoke. I was still stuck in the theoretical stages of this proposed endeavor. I assumed Susan was feeling the same way, and this thought was comforting. She wasn’t going to rush in without giving it some further thought.

“I’m in,” she said, proving my intuition to be completely out of whack. The idea of my wife lounging naked in broad daylight so Greg’s eyes could ravage her now ricocheted through my brain—not as a possibility, but as a probability. This was heavy stuff compared to my usual Saturday morning ruminations.

A loud crack of thunder signaled an approaching storm, confirmed by a sudden gust of wind. Both Marci and Susan looked outside and frowned. I felt only a slight disappointment, which confirmed I wasn’t there yet.

I wasn’t ready for the experiment to begin.

Chapter 4: Planus Interruptus

TELL ME WHAT YOU’RE REALLY THINKING

Soon, hail the size of acorns struck the awnings and deck sounding like Uzi fire. The storm had arrived in earnest. A quick look at my weather app confirmed it wouldn’t be passing over soon. So much for my wife’s exhibitionist ambitions. Marci’s as well. They both fell into a minor funk until they realized they had all summer to execute their experiment.

After a half hour, Marci left to take care of errands she’d been putting off, feeling the rain killed any other prospects. Before leaving, she said, “So, we’re doing this thing, right? I don’t want to get excited for nothing.”

We assured her we would think about it, which seemed to satisfy her need for having exciting prospects on the horizon. Why the idea struck her as a favorable one I wasn’t sure. Did she have ulterior motives?

Her departure gave us much needed private space. We needed to discuss our “feelings” without an audience, a good strategy for any couple, especially when exploring their love life. I also didn’t want Marci’s libertinism to influence Susan either way.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” asked Susan, as we cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

“I’m sure if you’re sure, but please don’t feel you have to do anything. Marci can be pushy at times.”

“I know, but I think she has a point. Well, you both do.”

“How so? I think I know what you mean, but go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking.”

Susan dried her hands, crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “I can’t stop thinking about last night, Ryan, the way you took me on the chaise lounge. I get all perky just thinking about it. I’m not kidding.”

I was feeling the same way. “It was exciting. I don’t know why we slacked off as we did. When is the last time we made love?”

“A couple of weekends ago, I think. See, isn’t it strange that we don’t really remember? Sex used to be so important to us. I mean, we used to make love all the time.”

“I don’t think it’s that uncommon in marriage, Susan. We hear that all the time.”

“But does it have to be that way? Maybe there’s a way to always make it like it was last night.”

“You don’t think you’d get tired of it?”

“God no!” she said. “Would you?”

“No, I guess not.” I truly didn’t feel it could ever become tiresome.

“So, the question is, how do we keep it up—that fire?”

“You have to continue being naughty, I guess.” I smiled. I liked the