After making me tell him all about my naughty Sunday breakfast with Barry, Ethan stood up and extended his hand. Taking it, I stood up on the balcony and glanced at the windows across the street. Exposing my naked body to the world while sober when it wasn't even noon somehow hit different than when I did it the night before. I liked it even more.
My husband led me to the bed and seemed almost manic as he shoved me down on the duvet and dived between my legs. Instead of the rough fucking I craved, he ate my pussy for over an hour. Sure, I climaxed several times and it felt wonderful, but over the last two days I felt like I kept filling up on appetizers without ever getting to the main course.
Though he left me buzzing from a powerful orgasm, I felt alone and empty when Ethan walked out to join his coworker on the convention floor. I dozed restlessly for an hour but then awoke with a start from an intensely erotic dream that left me horny and frustrated. Stumbling into the bathroom to cool my overheated body with a cold shower, I considered what I'd been doing over the past weekend.
I think most people have experienced situations where their heart pulled them in one direction while their brain told them to do the opposite. Struggling between what you want and what you should do is just a normal part of being human. I'd learned how to handle that over the years, usually opting for doing the 'right thing' over selfishness or the desire for things I shouldn't pursue.
However, under the frigid stream rinsing the sweat from my body, I realized that I now faced an much more convoluted situation. My conflicts weren't a fight between intellect and feelings. Far more concerning, neither my brain nor my heart offered a solid position on what I should do.
Intellectually, I felt conflicted because my husband had altered the rules that I'd always lived by. Just three months before, I might've been a little unhappy and discontented with my life, but I pretty much always knew who I was and how I should act. Moreover, I understood what my husband and everyone else expected of me.
Ethan had tossed all that out the window. Whether it was having me intentionally expose myself to our neighbor, take naked photos of myself in public, or now openly flirt with other men to the point that I'd just made out with a complete stranger in public, my husband had stripped me of the moral foundation that I'd relied upon my entire life. I felt my entire world shifting beneath my feet.
At the same time, I understood why he'd done it. Ethan wanted me to experience what I'd missed out on as a teenager and single woman. My strict upbringing resulted in no dating until prom, and that ended on my parents' porch with a chaste peck on the lips. Other than one college boyfriend in my freshman year who'd left me too emotionally damaged to seek out another, I had no experience or memories of being single and free.
My husband understood that I'd missed a big part of growing up, and he seemed determined to help me experience it so I wouldn't live my life wondering about 'what could've been'. While that might've been a sweet idea, my brain practically screamed at me that we'd embarked on an extremely perilous path. I'd always trusted him implicitly, but how could I be certain Ethan knew what he was doing in this instance?
Emotionally, I was even more conflicted. When not drinking, I felt very real guilt about my recent behavior regardless of the fact that my husband had set it all up. We might play our Dom/sub games, but I was still an adult with free choice and responsibility for my own actions.
At the same time, part of me
did
wonder what I'd missed out on as a single woman. What if I hadn't let that nightmare of a boyfriend turn me off to pursuing relationships with other guys? I often wondered what would've happened to me had Ethan not shown up at my dorm in his dress uniform looking for me. Would I have ended up living my life alone?
As guilty as some of it made me feel, I'd found the last three months absolutely enthralling. That went double for what I'd done since arriving in Puerto Rico. The excitement of meeting new people, the adrenaline rush of doing something so obviously wrong, and the sinful pleasure of giving in to lusty desires I'd normally keep firmly suppressed had become increasingly irresistible.
Even the fact that Ethan made me wear my wedding ring affected me in a surprisingly novel way. If push came to shove, I could've pretended that I'd been victimized when Anton had peeped on me in my home. Likewise, if someone caught me taking a nude selfie in public, I could claim that I only did it for my husband and didn't plan on having anyone else see. That would've allowed me to maintain the myth that I was a good wife and a somewhat respectable woman.
Wearing my ring while flirting and even kissing other guys put me in an entirely different category. These men knew I had a husband, and when I reciprocated their advances, I allowed them to view me as a piece of vacation ass to be used and remembered when they went home to their wives or girlfriends. No one involved had any illusions about a future relationship, which in their minds left only physical attraction and a total disregard for my husband as my reasons for betraying my wedding vows for them.
Or maybe they just think I'm some sort of a nympho...
It disturbed me that men seeing me as a cheating slut didn't bother me more, but it outright terrified me when I actually began relishing that role. I still had no intention of fucking another man, but I felt daring and carnal as I played around the edges of it. Having never been the bad girl, I slipped into the role far easier than I could've believed before leaving Ohio.
By the time I stepped out of the shower with gooseflesh rippling my chilled thighs and breasts, I felt even more confused than before. Completely at sea over how I should proceed, I opted for the path of least resistance. Walking into the bedroom, I stood dripping on the carpet as I read my vacation rules again.
My wet fingers penetrated the linen paper and smudged the ink as I shivered from a slight hypothermia, but that didn't matter. I'd pored over my husband's rules so many times that I could recite them verbatim without looking at the page. Still, I read them again and again like a nun taking comfort in her favorite bible passage.
I made the choice to to get out of my head and follow my vacation rules instead of fretting over morality, wedding vows, and social propriety. Tying on my new yellow bikini for the first time, I headed for the beach. On the way out, I stuffed my keycard, phone, and sunscreen into my little purse, but otherwise I took nothing else with me. As soon as I stepped onto the beach, the harsh sun beat down on my pale skin, and the heat quickly penetrated my chilled body despite the breeze coming in off the ocean.
"Hi Brooke!"
