Sarah stepped off the airplane. It wasn't so much the moist Caribbean heat that immediately embraced her but the fragrance -- tropical vegetation and a hint of the sea. It was remarkable that a mere four hours in a plane could lift her from the frozen and aseptic air of Toronto to this. She took a deep breath and turned to her friend, Amanda. "Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all."
Amanda smiled. It was she who had suggested a vacation after Sarah's on-again, off-again relationship had imploded under the weight of expectation (hers) and deer-in-the-headlights fear of commitment (his). Sarah needed a reset and Amanda had been more than willing to facilitate it. Sarah was thirty-three after all, and had become disillusioned with the arrested development of her male peers, whose romantic vocabulary and erotic sophistication seemed to derive almost exclusively from internet porn.
Before boarding the bus to the resort, Amanda bought several cans of local beer from some young entrepreneurs with coolers. A couple of beers into the bus ride, Sarah felt herself getting caught up in the giddy excitement of those who, like her, had escaped the confines of winter.
After a quick check-in, Sarah and Amanda followed the porter along a path lined with palm trees and gardens abundant with tropical flowers. In their suite, Amanda tipped the porter and joined Sarah on the balcony, which overlooked the ocean and a welcoming stretch of pristine white sand.
"Oh God," whispered Sarah, leaning against the railing. "It's beautiful."
A pair of small sailboats rode the glistening swells near the breakwater and a small army of scantily clad people frolicked on the beach.
"Let's get changed," said Amanda.
Sarah had brought two bathing suits -- a modest pink number and a turquoise string bikini. On seeing the former, Amanda gestured to it and asked, "Does your mother know you borrowed that?" Then, with a sniff of disdain, she grabbed the offending garment and scurried to the bathroom with her own suit.
While Amanda readied herself in the bathroom, Sarah quickly stripped and donned the bikini. She appraised herself in the mirror. Not bad, she thought as she adjusted the top to keep her ample breasts somewhat covered. A strict diet and more sit-ups and planks than she cared to remember had flattened her tummy into something approaching beach-worthy. Full hips -- perhaps a little fuller than she would have liked -- tapered into long, toned legs. Overall, Sarah was happy. While she perhaps couldn't compare with the twenty year olds at the resort, she felt that she could more than hold her own with those a little older.
Amanda emerged from the bathroom and Sarah's eyes widened. "Any less of a bathing suit would be nothing," she said.
"Hm. I might try that."
"What?"
"Nothing." Amanda approached Sarah and walked a circle around her, studying her appraisingly. "Not bad," she said, "but we're on vacation." With that and a flagrant disregard for the notion of personal space, she narrowed the bottoms of the already narrow triangles that strained to contain Sarah's breasts. "Better," she pronounced, eying the thin strip of fabric that now barely covered Sarah's nipples. "Let's hit the bar."
On the way, Sarah surreptitiously adjusted her top again.
The bar was several rows deep with newcomers. Sarah hadn't seen so much exposed skin since the summer. After months of sweaters and parkas, it was refreshing. She entered the press of flesh with Amanda and ordered a pair of rum and cokes. Amanda was engaged in a flirtatious conversation with one of the bartenders and Sarah left her to claim a couple of vacant loungers by the pool.
Amanda soon joined her. Her face wore an I-know-something-you-don't grin.
"I noticed that there are no kids here," said Sarah.
"Really? Huh." Amanda smiled and sipped her drink and eyed a group of men at the swim-up bar.
"Is this some kind of hedonist resort?" Sarah wouldn't have put it past her, but with the sun warming her skin she didn't really care.
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean, not exactly?"
"It doesn't promote itself as such."
There was more; Sarah could sense it.
"There aren't any orgies or anything like that," continued Amanda. "No grottoes of iniquity." Amanda blew a lock of her untamable corkscrew hair out of her face.
"But..."
"But you can, if you want... um... suggest what you're interested in."
"Suggest?"
"Look around. Have you noticed that a lot of people are wearing bracelets."
Sarah looked. In addition to the ubiquitous resort wristbands, perhaps half of the guests were sporting bracelets of different colors, sometimes multiple bracelets. "So?"
"They distribute bracelets if you want them." She hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. "Red for one-on-one straight. Green for gay. Blue for FMM, pink for MFF, black if you want a bit of kink thrown in. Some others that you may not be interested in. It's kind of like hedonism-lite."
Sarah looked at Amanda's wrists. Red, blue, and pink. "Jesus, Amanda. That's kind of like advertising."
"So?"
"It's just... gross."
"We're on vacation for a week. Who has time to negotiate?"
"But..."
"Do you want one?" Amanda held out her hand. It contained several bracelets of different colors.
Sarah groaned. "Let me think about it."
Amanda didn't move her hand.
"Shit," said Sarah, picking up a red bracelet. "Happy?"
Amanda smiled and returned to the bar, ostensibly to return the unused bracelets. Sarah watched as she and a bartender chatted and grinned at each other. He touched her arm and she placed a hand on top of his. Sarah looked away and reluctantly slid her bracelet onto her wrist.
It wasn't long before a member of the animation team approached. "Hello, pretty lady."
"Hello," said Sarah.
"I'm Julio," he said.
"Sarah."
"Beautiful name, Sarah. For a beautiful woman."
In spite of herself, she blushed. His accent oozed a knowing sensuality. Julio was handsome, dark, and fit. He held a water polo ball.
"Would you like to get wet?"
"Pardon me?"
Julio laughed. "Water polo, my pretty Sarah. Five minutes."
Sarah could feel a renewed warmth on her cheeks. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Later, maybe." Julio looked at her expectantly.
"Sure."
Julio winked at her and moved on to a group of twenty-somethings. She couldn't help but to gawk at his ass. Get a grip, she told herself. He's barely out of his teens. Sarah slipped the bracelet off her wrist and slid it into her bag.
* * *
From his perch at the swim-up bar, Nick surveyed the guests around the pool. By and large it was a young crowd. There were some obvious couples but the majority could not be categorized. His gaze stopped at the woman in the turquoise bikini across the pool and lingered there. She was pretty and young and probably way out of his league. What caused him to pause was not so much her body, which was pause-worthy in its own right, but her face. It was one of those rare, expressive faces that could only be described as open. His wife had had a face like that -- complex but readable. Inviting and comforting. The woman in the bikini had a flawless of complexion, wide-spaced grey eyes, small nose and full lips, all framed by dark blonde hair. Lest he be accused of ogling, he scanned the pool again, only to return to this woman. While his mind knew that there was little or no possibility with her, his eyes had no such qualms.
Conditioning dictated that he at least try to see whether she wore a bracelet but her left arm was momentarily hidden. He sipped at his rum and coke. He'd heard from one of the staff members that the whole bracelet thing had started with a large group of swingers who had descended on the resort some years back. They'd come with a rainbow palette of bracelets to identify who was into what. After several years of using the resort as their base, the swingers had eventually moved on to another location and the bracelets had disappeared for a season. The resulting decline in the number of return visitors to the resort caused the owners to quietly reintroduce the bracelets, albeit as an officially non-sanctioned attraction. And so the staff continued to perpetuate the legend of the bracelets and, of course, benefit from whatever came their way while the resort owners looked the other way. The bracelets were good business.
Nick had chosen a red bracelet, not so much that he was desperate for action but to dispel any notion that he and his brother were a couple. If the red bracelet led to something, fine. If not, he wasn't worrying about it. There was enough sunshine and ocean and booze to ensure that he would have a good time.
He watched with interest as one of the staff members approached bikini girl and chatted her up. She moved her arm and he saw that she wore a red bracelet too, which made her less adventurous than her friend, who wore three or four, but still available. Her relative modesty pleased him and he was glad that his initial impressions of her hadn't been proven false by an armful of bracelets. The staff member was obviously putting the moves on her. To her credit, she looked a little flustered and uncomfortable. She smiled and shook her head. Nick saw that she had a dimple on her left cheek when she smiled. He was a sucker for dimples. After several minutes, the guy moved off. Nick grinned when he saw the woman removing her bracelet and slipping it into her bag.
"Are you going to talk to her?"
His brother had returned with drinks. Seven years younger than Nick, Adam was all of the things Nick had once been -- carefree, supremely confident, and enviably fit.
"Maybe. I don't think she's in the market though."
"Why?"
"Just a feeling."
"Too bad. But you should still talk to her. Nothing ventured...."
"Yeah."
* * *
Amanda returned from the bar and reclined on the lounger, unconsciously arranging her long limbs to show them to the greatest advantage. "I think we might need to set some ground rules in case either of us decide to take advantage of the bracelet thing."
"Okay," said Sarah, thinking reluctantly about how it would be with Julio.
"If the do-not-disturb sign is backwards, it means that the room is occupied."
"Sure," said Sarah. "But can we agree that the room is there for sleeping too?"
"Alright. No shenanigans after midnight."
"Deal."
Amanda glanced over to a path on which one of the resort staff waited. "Do you need the room now?" she asked.
Sarah followed Amanda's gaze. "Already?" she asked with some surprise. Years ago, Sarah would have been aghast at Amanda's promiscuity; now it was just par for the course. There were times that Sarah envied her friend. For Amanda, sex was like a massage -- intimate, pleasurable, and relaxing -- and little more than that. For Sarah, who'd been raised to think that sex was something that all guys craved and good girls withheld, the act itself was something to be negotiated and allowed only if a myriad of conditions were met.
Amanda grinned. "We're only here for a week."
With that, she was off.
Yes, there were times that Sarah envied her friend.
* * *
Nick wasn't one for dancing. Bad genes and a singular lack of rhythm had given him all of the grace of one who has had his spine fused. That said, he wasn't above enjoying the sinuous grace and wanton gyrations of the women on the dance floor. Adam had no such limitations and dove into the fray. Not bad, bro, he thought as his brother zeroed in on a pair of young women and smiled his youthful acknowledgement. The girls smiled back. Nick shook his head. If only he had half of Adam's nerve.
