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

stubbly cheeks brushing my thighs, and then you circle my clit with your tongue and know just when to apply pressure… Fuck that’s great.

“Did I mention your balls? When I lick them I just feel so naughty, and I love it. I love the way they feel. And I like to hold them up with my tongue and let go and see them dangle and I want to do it all over again. I’ll lick your balls anytime you want. I can’t do that with a woman.

“Plus, your dick. It fits me just right, and you know how to go out all the way and have it rub my clit, and then you push back in and do it all over again. God, I love that. A woman can’t do that either.”

“I’m glad you like the way I make love to you.”

“Anytime, big guy.”

“Won’t it get old?”

“I didn’t say 24/7. We’ll need breaks too.”

Chloe returned with our reorder. Now that Marci had built a rapport she wanted to make a further inquiry.

“Chloe,” she said. “What’s your favorite thing to do with a woman?”

Chloe resumed her former position on the cabana bed and gave Marci’s question some thought.

“There’s no one ‘thing’,” she said. “It’s the whole ‘thing’. The kissing, the finger play, licking, then after, just holding each other, falling to sleep in each other’s arms. I can show you if you like.”

I felt that was a thoughtful response. I was expecting mention of strap-ons and wearing dominatrix gear. As it was, she sounded like a normal human being with relatively quotidian desires, much like Marci and me.

“Ah, thanks Chloe,” said Marci. “Maybe some other time.” She smiled and looked at me. “I’ve got my hands full at the moment.” To illustrate her comment, she cupped my balls. Rather than flinch, Chloe smiled.

“I like balls too. Well, you know where I work,” she said, rising to leave. “I’ll see you around.”

∞∞∞

We ate a light dinner in the main dining room. Marci had slipped into a slinky jumpsuit constructed of an ethereal fabric that draped her body beautifully, including her bottom, whose fine curves screamed right through the material like it wasn’t even there.

We returned to the room with the half bottle of wine left over from dinner and sat on the balcony to finish it off. A timid moon hung on the low horizon illuminating the ocean. There were gentle waves sweeping the shore.

We had two more night left in Mexico. I wished I had booked a longer stay. As natural as it felt to live my life with Susan, it felt no less natural now being with Marci. She and Susan were like sisters in many ways; similarly built, with near matching skin tones and hair. Even their pubic hair was a match though Marci let hers grow more lush.

Their differences were more in manner and tone, but these differences complemented each other. There was no tension or conflict in how they chose to move through the world. They had no arguments with life. When they occupied the same space, they created a balanced atmosphere. The air was never prickly around them. It was always soothing and comforting.

“That was quite some night last night,” Marci said, whimsically.

“I agree. It was full of surprises.”

“Did I shock you?”

“Yes, several times.”

“Tell me.”

“When you laid with Greg, when I saw you let him touch you, when he fucked you—all of it. It was all a shock. My head nearly exploded.”

“And then I fucked Harold.”

“I saw that. That was also a shock even though you told me you would do it. You told me that on the beach yesterday.”

“It shocked me too.”

“How did it feel to do it? I mean, aside from Greg being so uselessly huge.”

Marci laughed. “I felt like a crazy whore, and I loved it because I knew it would drive you crazy. But I don’t know that I could ever do it again.”

“If we’ve learned anything this summer, it’s to never say never.”

“I won’t sleep with Greg again.”

“I think that ship sailed. Anyway, it’s done. You can’t light the same fuse twice.”

“We got it out of the way.”

“And here we are.”

We were both startled by a knock on the door.

“Are we expecting anyone?” I asked.

“God, I hope it’s not Chloe.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” I went to the door.

It was Susan.

“Hi,” she said.

Chapter 37: Susan & Marci

WHAT GOES AROUND

“Am I interrupting?” asked Susan as I let her into the room. “I can come back later if you’re busy.”

“Not at all. Marci and I were just sipping wine on the balcony.” She gave me a hug followed by a lingering kiss before looking into my eyes. I could see she was troubled.

Marci joined us. “Hey, Susan! Where’s Greg?” They exchanged hugs, and Marci took one of the occasional chairs.

“He should be home by now. He dropped me off.”

Marci looked surprised but didn’t comment.

“We might have some wine left,” I said. “Would you like a glass?”

“Do you have anything stronger?”

Surprisingly, I had yet to open the room’s minibar. I examined the contents. “We’ve got pretty much anything you could want here. Marci, do you want anything?”

“I’m good with the wine.”

Susan asked for a scotch. I took the ice bucket to the machine on the landing, returned, and made us both a drink.

Susan sat on the bed. Being unsure of my role here, I was torn between sitting next to her or joining Marci in one of the occasional chairs. Before I could decide, Susan started crying, and that settled that. I joined her on the bed and put my arm around her.

She had a good sob, collected herself, took a gulp of her scotch, and smiled.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being silly.”

“Not at all,” I said. Marci came over and kneeled in front of Susan, taking her hand in her palms.

“What’s wrong?” asked Marci. “Did Greg do something?” She asked in such a way as to suggest holy terror would follow a positive response.

“No! Nothing like that!” said