It has been said that, when you drive across the bridge into Key West, you enter another world. I wasn't sure about that, but I did feel a slow cessation of tension, coupled with the anticipation of a full week with no plans and nothing to do.
We had designed the trip that way. My husband Keith and I were both hard chargers. Overachievers, to be sure. We had decided not to have children early in our marriage, but we rarely took advantage of the freedom that the situation afforded us.
During a conversation helped along by lots of red wine, we realized that we kept talking about taking a break, but we never actually followed through on our plans. While we were still a bit buzzed, we went online and booked a nonrefundable trip to Key West, scheduled exactly one month from that date. We both expressed some misgivings the following morning, but -- and this was our late-night reasoning -- we had plenty of time to clear the decks at work and head off to Florida without any deadlines hanging over us. And before we knew it, we were heading down the long highway to Key West.
"So, Marianne," Keith said from behind the wheel, "have you heard of The Garden of Eden?"
"You mean the Hemingway novel?" I asked, knowing full well what he was talking about.
"No, I'm talking about a bar in Key West. It's legendary."
"What's so special about it?"
"Well," he said, hesitating. I was enjoying this. "It's probably the only nude bar in Key West."
"You mean like a strip club?"
"No, the patrons are nude. Or at least they can be, if they want to."
"And why are you telling me this?"
"I-I thought you might like to check it out. I mean, we've talked about going to a nude beach someday," he said, rushing on, "and this would be about the same thing."
We had discussed the idea in the past. I was lukewarm on the prospect. On the one hand, it sounded a bit naughty, fun, and forbidden, but on the other hand, I wasn't sure that I was ready to display my body for everyone to see. I'm 40, in relatively good shape for my age, blonde, large breasts and curves in all the right places, but my confidence was lacking.
"We'll see," I said. "If you get enough drinks in me, who knows what may happen." I didn't really mean it, but I didn't want to burst his bubble.
We checked into our B and B and were pleased to find it just as advertised. Three bedrooms in the main house, a 19th century Victorian just off Duval Street, and three small private cottages toward the back of the property, on the other side of a small pool and connected hot tub. We were in one of the cottages, not wanting to be forced into quiet lovemaking if the spirit moved us. And we certainly hoped that it would.
After a long, relaxed dinner, we headed back to our room. Keith suggested that we take a bottle of wine out to the hot tub, and I was certainly game. We started changing into our suits when Keith raised his eyebrows. "Not the bikini?"
I had selected a royal blue one piece bathing suit, cut high on the thighs. It was stylish and revealed a bit of skin, but Keith was hoping for more. "Maybe later in the week, Big Guy," I chuckled.
"Oh, come on, it's dark out there. And I'd really like to see you in that bikini we picked out before the trip." You mean the one you picked out, I thought, but I kept that sentiment to myself.
"OK, for you," I said. I didn't want to spoil his fun, and there had been no one at the pool when we walked by a few minutes earlier. I slid into the red bikini, which adequately covered my D cups but left more of my ass exposed than I might prefer. I thought about how excited Keith was when we were shopping, so I went along. And ultimately, what were the odds that we would see anyone we knew on this trip?
I felt the cool evening breeze on my skin as we walked to the hot tub. Any embarrassment that I might have felt was pushed to the side when I saw Keith looking me up and down, with a big dumb grin spread across his face.
He slowed his stride, and I slowed with him. "Go ahead, honey," he said.
"Aren't you coming?"
"Oh, I am, but, I want to watch you walk."
Nothing like a bit of flattery, I thought, as I walked ahead of him, putting an extra sway in my hips, emboldened by his enthusiasm and the cocktails at dinner. I couldn't be certain in the darkness, but it looked like Keith was already hard under his swim trunks. He is a handsome man, with dark hair cut in a somewhat spiky style. Businesslike, to be sure, but with an edge. Keith is a big man, tall with broad shoulders. He has kept himself in shape over the years, and I certainly had no complaints. He looked most appealing as he strolled toward the pool.
The hot tub felt wonderful after the chill of the breeze. With a bit of trial and error, Keith got the tub bubbling, with the jets on full blast. I maneuvered myself in front of one of the jets and let it pound on my lower back, sore from the long car ride. Keith handed me a glass of wine, and I drank deeply, closing my eyes and luxuriating in the feeling of total relaxation.
"Thanks for wearing your bikini," Keith said after a moment. "You look damn sexy in it."
"I'm glad you think so. Anything to make you happy," I said, batting my eyelashes at him. It was fun to flirt. We had done so little of that as of late. I felt convinced that our spur of the moment decision to take a real vacation was an excellent one. And I hoped that we could make up for lost time.
"You know what would make your bikini look even better?" Keith asked after a moment. I shrugged, not sure where he was going with this line of conversation. He paused and said softly, "If you took off your top."
I didn't say anything immediately, making him wait. He had been talking about nude beaches during our trip preparations, but I passed it off as nothing more than his fantasies verbalized. We occasionally liked to talk dirty during sex, sometimes telling each other stories about wild scenes we imagined. I thought it was healthy, since it allowed us to explore ideas that we would never actually act on. But now he seemed quite serious.
"I don't know," I said, smiling to take the sting off of my refusal. "Someone could walk up. Someone could see me."
"Honey," Keith said gently, "this place is deserted. We're the only ones here. No one but me will see you." He paused and smiled. "And I want to see you."
I took a look around the grounds. We were the only people outside. The rooms around us seemed quiet. It was getting late, around 11. Maybe everyone had turned in for the night after a long day of sun, daiquiris, and more daiquiris. Why not? Why not make my husband happy?
I looked into his eyes. "Why don't you do it?"
He smiled broadly and reached behind me, deftly unhooking the clasp securing the top. I felt his hands on my shoulders, pushing the straps down. Then his hands were on my breasts, stroking them gently, his fingertips on my nipples.
I closed my eyes, pushing doubt and embarrassment out of my mind, focusing on the feel of Keith's hands on my skin. I put my hands on the tub's bench and pushed up to meet his touch, in the process causing the water from the jet behind me to flow under me, making my pussy tingle.
"OK, let's slow down," I said. "One step at a time."
Keith grinned and sat back. "Sure. After all, we have a whole week. No need to rush." He said it, but I don't think he meant it. "However, I'm going to make sure that nothing interrupts this view," he said, flinging my bikini top over to a nearby lounge chair.
We sipped our wine, and I thought about what I was doing. Just two days ago, I was sitting at a conference table reviewing annual budgets with a bunch of suits. Now I was sitting in a hot tub in Key West, practically naked. Well, we had wanted a change from our normal routine.
I found that, when I sat up enough to bring my breasts above the level of the water, the sudden coolness made them rock hard. Keith noticed too, not even trying to be subtle in his ogling. But at that point, I didn't mind. We were alone, truly relaxed for the first time in ages.
