This is a nevelette, Chapters 1-3 should be read first
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Chapter 4
After she'd spent over an hour and a half in Wes and Pat's room, Cheryl slipped from their intoxicating proximity. Popping into her room, she dressed herself as she'd seen a few other women at the resort. Instead of bikini bottoms, she donned a pair of panties. Viewed from the front, it was simply pink nylon with a black lace trim. But from the rear, it had strings rather than an opaque panel, displaying the crack of her rear end. One of her Dayton lovers had given them to her, they were comfortable, and if they got ruined by being in water it wouldn't matter. She pulled on a cover up, more filmy than translucent, she could feign modesty in it. A pair of decorated flip-flops, she was ready to go.
In the warm midday sun the sky was dotted with fleecy clouds, she walked the grounds of the resort. Every once in awhile she'd come upon people she knew, Steve and Alexis, a man she'd danced with the previous evening, but mostly she kept to herself. She read one of her trashy novels in the shade of a palm tree with a creamy drink, she joined a volleyball game, whipping off her coverup with not a care in the world. When one of her team would high five her or pat her on the ass, the vibe was fleshy but short of erotic. The nearly setting sun found her on a float thirty yards from the shore, reflecting on the previous twenty seven hours. In her time here, she'd made love to two different men, and then there was the pleasant surprise of a woman's curves. She still had more items on her checklist, but she also had three more nights. She felt she was well into a successful vacation.
Wes and Pat had invited her to dinner, Cheryl decided to decline; while she very much liked the couple from Chicago, she also felt it was time to break away from them, it was important to retain a smidge of independence.
As the sun set, just shy of 6:30, Pat returned to her room, took more than an hour to shower and make herself up for the evening, full of potential; what would happen?
She meandered around the resort, aglow with fairy lights, wandered onto the pier with the Valentine's restaurant on the end. She was fungry, perhaps she'd simply have a salad or an appetizer. Sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar, she found herself next to a man, greying hair, mid-fifties, good looking in a seasoned fashion. He was chatting with a brunette woman, on the other side of her sat another man, forties, a long face, thinning hair, slim.
"Hi," the man closest to her said, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Cheryl chuckled at the old pick up line as the bartender brought her a glass of riesling.
"Oh, just seeing what I can pick up." She was a little astounded at her racy words. Again, she realized in this locale she wasn't the same woman she was in Dayton
"My name's Cheryl."
"Dean," he answered, and studied her face for a moment. "I can only imagine you're being successful, you're beautiful. Where's the husband?"
Cheryl once again explained her single status, it was actually getting a little tiring. Dean didn't seem put out, accepted her unstated quest as perfectly natural. He introduced her to "Jacki, my wife, our friend Russ." With the jazz band playing nearby it was difficult to talk, Dean and Cheryl kept up a conversation about mundane matters. The hostess tapped Dean on the shoulder.
"Would you care to join us for dinner? We've got an extra seat."
"Why not?" They followed the young native girl to the table, well on the other side of the restaurant, away from the music. Cheryl was seated with Dean on her left, Jacki on her right, Russ opposite. She found out the group were friends, lived in Albuquerque. "Dean's my husband, Russ is my lover."
When Cheryl raised her eyebrows, not in condemnation but in curiosity, Jacki explained. "I'm simply not enough woman for Dean. We figured that out early, he had some affairs. I realized I didn't mind, he was - still is - a great husband, spent lots of time with our kids, very dependable. If he had needs he scratched with other women, I found it really didn't matter to me and he was always honest about it. At the same time I was relatively faithful, the traditional stay-at-home mom. Oh, I had a couple of brief flings, just to keep up, I guess, but one night stands just aren't my thing. Then, about six years ago, I met Russ. It was love at first sight."
"For both of us," Russ piped up. "For months, it was torrid. I wanted her all the time."
"I could tell something was going on," Dean interrupted, "when you spend twenty three years with a woman you can't ignore stuff like that. I gave her her head, but after four months had passed and our son got curious why mom spent so much time at the library, we sat down and talked it out."
Jacki continued. "So I introduced them to each other, we set up a deal. Dean allowed me to spend as much time as I wanted with Russ. We told our children about it, our girl was already at USF, Dean Jr. was a senior in high school. It was amazing how easily they took it. Of course, Albuquerque is a liberal town, they didn't bat an eye."
"So how does it work for the three of you?" Cheryl asked.
"Very nicely. We have a house out out in the burbs, Russ lived down by the University. I sort of spent the time between Russ's apartment and our house. Then, three years ago, we all sat down and talked about it. Russ and I would marry if it was possible, but I'd never divorce Dean. So we decided to form a throuple. We built a little guest house out back, living room, kitchen, bedroom, garage, bathroom. Russ lives there, I spend time out there whenever I want to. Russ tends to eat most of his meals in the big house. And the really great thing is if either guy wants to have a girl over, I can just go to the other place."
"I rarely have another girl come to my place," Russ protested.
"Yes, dear," Jacki clacked, as any wife might when a husband said something silly. Cheryl had many more questions, especially did Jacki have affairs of her own, and were threesomes a part of their weekends, but she didn't want to pry too much. The conversation went on to movies and museums. From time to time, Dean's hand would touch Cheryl's, although it felt a little strange Cheryl shyly responded, she could tell Dean desired her. And she was receptive to his slight advances. She wondered how this might work, how could she get Dean away from the other two.
Over desert, Dean alluded to their room. "We have an overwater suite. We can just jump off our deck, have a midnight swim."
"It sounds nice."
"You're welcome to join us."
"Well," Cheryl said, "I guess I'll go over to my room and get a swimsuit."
