My phone buzzed on my chest at five on Tuesday morning, and I felt surprisingly refreshed after finally getting six solid hours of sleep. I'd planned out this particular day long before we arrived in Puerto Rico, and for the first time since arriving on the island, Brooke and I had a schedule to follow. I'd prepositioned my clothes and rucksack in the bathroom the night before so I wouldn't disturb my slumbering coworker any more than necessary.
After a quick shower and shave, I donned a white guayabera shirt and a pair of navy cargo shorts. Instead of my usual sandals and ball cap, I opted for a pair of blue deck shoes and my sky blue fishing hat with the brim all the way around. I'd be in the sun all day, so I slathered on some sunscreen before heading out.
When I arrived at her room just before six, Brooke had already showered and packed her things. I'd warned her we'd be on the clock the night before, so she already wore the required orange bikini, white sunhat, and flat sandals. It being early, only the sleepy night clerk took any notice of my wife's jiggling breasts as she walked through the empty lobby in her sexy bathing suit.
The geography and infrastructure of Puerto Rico forced us to take a circuitous route that took two and a half hours of driving along the southern shore to reach my wife's third hotel on the western end of the island. We ran into morning rush hour, but it wasn't any worse than your average workday in Ohio. The sun still lay low over the low, misty hills to the east as we neared our destination, but I could already tell the weather would be excellent.
Having Brooke stay so far away from my hotel left me conflicted, but the resort had three huge advantages. First, that day's adventure would begin just down the road, so it'd be convenient. Secondly, this two story resort had a more intimate feel than the taller hotels in San Juan, so it provided a new environment that would hopefully keep my wife unsettled and excited.
The hotel's biggest asset was actually what I hated about it. While I had a natural desire to keep her close and safe, Brooke knowing that I'd be so far away would further enhance her sense of existing outside her normal life. When I planned the week, I'd assumed this distance would be necessary to get my wife out of her shell, but after the prior three days, I wondered if it might've been complete overkill.
If Brooke went so far when we were in the same hotel, what's she going to be like now that I'll be a hundred miles away?
My wife's excited reaction upon seeing the beige and teal resort pleased me. Positioned only a few yards from the water, the sprawling hotel featured rooftop lounge areas, a tiny private beach, a second floor terrace that ran the length of the hotel, and a large community hot tub. Brooke gleefully bounced around her spacious room and checked out the ocean view while I took a leak after our long drive.
Seeing my wife so happy and excited soothed most of my concerns. That was good because we didn't have time for me to indulge in a freak out. Brooke and I needed to get to the marina.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, I spotted the charter boat out at the end of the pier beyond a hodgepodge of smaller sailboats and houseboats. The newly founded charter company had no office, but I figured a small operation would be more flexible in catering to my particular needs. Honestly, cost proved a big factor in my choice as well.
It all looked exactly as Captain Rodriguez had described on the phone. I'd been forced to incorporate him into my plans, but the native Puerto Rican seemed unfazed by my odd request. To the contrary, he appeared to view it as a welcome distraction from his normal daily grind.
Glancing at my phone, I saw we had about fifteen minutes before the boat would head out to sea. I checked my gear one last time to make sure I had everything needed before turning to Brooke. My wife looked adorable sitting beside me in her little bikini as she patiently but excitedly waited for me to explain what we'd be doing.
"OK, we're going to spend all day together," I began, and my wife's eyes lit up with enthusiasm.
"Really? You don't have to head back to work?"
"No. Once we get on the boat, I won't be able to. You're stuck with me all day."
"Stuck isn't the word I'd use," my wife chuckled. "So, we're going on a boat ride?"
"Sort of, but we have a few special boat rules."
"I have to admit, I'm really beginning to like it when you give me rules," Brooke smiled.
"Rule number one is that as far as anyone else on the boat knows, we're complete strangers to each other," I explained, noticing a bit of disappointment darken her face. "In fact, you need to ignore me completely unless I approach you."
"OK," my wife agreed reluctantly as she tried to figure out what I had planned for her.
"Rule number two is that you're to initiate flirting with every man you come in contact with."
"Except for you."
"Yes."
"What if a guy is with another woman?"
"Then you can make a judgment call," I allowed, making it sound like a compromise. Actually, that situation couldn't happen. I'd made sure of that before we left Ohio.
"OK."
"Rule number three is that you need to touch every guy on board with your hands, breasts and butt. You can decide how to make that happen."
"Except for you," my wife repeated. This time, I detected the mix of trepidation and excitement that I found so sexy when I pushed my wife outside her comfort zone.
"Yes."
"Why not you too?"
After her antics over the last three days, I knew Brooke didn't have a problem with the rules regarding what she had to do with the other men. Only the fact that I'd be right there on the boat while she did it had her on edge. I could've allayed her fears, but the anxiousness of not knowing how I'd react would only enhance her experience.
"I have a different role to play today, but don't worry. You and I can have some time together when we return to your hotel."
Brooke perked up at that, but I saw her take a deep breath to calm herself. We'd really pushed the limits of our marriage over the last few days, and I think she needed to connect with me as much as I needed to connect with her. She nervously fiddled with the string holding up the left cup of her little bikini as she gazed out at the boats.
"Oh, just so you know," I stated as I squeezed her thigh, "You don't have to worry about wearing your red suit to the hotel pool today. Wearing the orange suit on the boat takes care of that requirement."
"Cool. Any other rules?"
"No, but you do have two tasks," I explained as I reached into her purse. Retrieving her phone and sunscreen, I held them both up. "You need to take selfies sitting in the lap of every man on board, and you need to get them all to apply sunscreen to your body. The lap sitting doesn't count toward touching the men with your butt."
"Except you."
"Except me."
"All right. They're going to think I'm a total slut or some sort of nympho," Brooke stated wistfully as she continued staring into nothingness. It wasn't a complaint so much as a statement of fact.
"Most likely," I agreed casually. "You go to the boat first. I'll follow after a few minutes so no one sees us arrive together. It's that white boat at the very end of the dock."
"OK. Here I go," Brooke announced as she grabbed the door handle, but then she hesitated. She took another deep breath and let out a long, shuddering sigh. My wife tried to play it cool, but Brooke looked as if she might explode from the anticipation of that day's sexy game.
"Leave your shoes here. They'll be too slippery on the deck."
Brooke kicked off her sandals and stepped out onto the pavement. Fortunately, it hadn't had time to heat up from the sun yet. I'd need to remember to get her sandals for her when we returned. There's nothing sexy about burnt feet.
I enjoyed watching Brooke walk away as I took photos of her through the windshield. Her orange suit had an elastic line sewn down the middle that caused the bottoms to cling to the contour of my wife's shapely buttocks. I'd seen her ass a thousand times, but it still made me hard watching her gingerly walk along the rough, weathered planks of the dock.
The orange suit, the big floppy hat, and the colorful boats made for excellent photos. Brooke's curves became fluid as she sexily swayed her hips, and I found it mesmerizing. Captain Rodriguez met her on the dock and held my wife's hand as he helped her aboard.
Stepping out of the car and resting my elbows on the hood, I used my large telephoto lens to get shot after shot of her meeting the other men who'd chartered the boat for the day. Like the young volleyball players she'd met on the beach the day before, these older men gathered around my wife eagerly as they competed for the attention of the sexy, barely clothed redhead who'd appeared out of nowhere. Her skin glowing from the rising sun behind me, Brooke looked radiant as she faced my way amidst her swarm of admirers.
I watched and photographed my wife flirting with these men for about ten minutes. After changing the memory card in the camera and slipping the full one into my rucksack, I headed to the boat just before our scheduled departure time. Captain Rodriguez met me on the dock so we could talk privately.
"Good morning, Señor."
"Mornin', Cap'n," I drawled as we shook hands.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming," Rodriguez remarked with a smile as he led me up to the flying bridge. Glancing down, I spotted his first mate, a burly young man named Ernesto, releasing the mooring lines. Like the captain, the barefoot crewman sported a blue pair of shorts and a startlingly white t-shirt with their company logo that clung to the muscles of his arms and chest.
"You
did
say nine o'clock."
"Yes, I did," Rodriguez allowed as he took the protective cover off the helm's control panel and stowed it under a bench. "I just normally head out much earlier."
