The fireworks show ended. The six of us slowly turned back towards the exit. But our journey wasn't over.
Not yet.
It had started five days before, in the pool area at Disney's Polynesian Resort Hotel. Mike, my wife's best friend's husband, had run into Cassie, his old crush girl from high school. At the time, it seemed like an innocuous encounter. It turned our whole trip on its head.
In the end, there were six of us: myself, my petite wife Emily, her athletic friend Allison, Allison's tall husband Mike, Mike's high school crush girl Cassie, and Cassie's older husband Jack.
Together, we played stripping games, sex games, and flat out fucked each other silly. We did it in the shower, on the dining table, and in the pool. Morning, noon, and (especially) night, we engaged in wild carnal activities with everyone except the people we were actually married to.
For nearly a full week at Disney World, we three couples came together, recombined, then fused all over again in unimaginably dirty ways. We shattered our marriage vows, decimated our boundaries, snapped our taboos, and made frightening new discoveries about our relationships and ourselves.
Yet, we'd also forged better friendships, established new bonds, and, maybe, even rebuilt ourselves into better people.
And in 12 hours, we were heading home.
The six of us walked out of Magic Kingdom arm-in-arm. One big clump of adults, all strolling down Main Street. The orange-yellow glow of the streetlamps bathed us all in a cinematic, striking light. Behind us, Cinderella Castle loomed over everything, a beacon in the darkness. In that moment, we didn't feel like couples or pairs, or arguably even individual people. We just were.
When we got to the front gate, we paused. Like we were about to step over some magical threshold, and we needed to build our courage to make the leap.
"This has been amazing," Mike said, "A great trip."
"We had a lovely time with you all," Jack said, "Truly."
We rode the Monorail back to the Poly. We had the car to ourselves. Unlike prior evenings, there was no making out. We sat comfortably, sharing secret little smiles and staring out the windows, like watching every happy memory of the last week roll past. No one said a word. No one needed to.
"We have an early flight in the morning," Allison said, when we stepped into the hotel lobby. It was quiet, just a few ambling guests and a couple of cast members. It felt sleepy and sublime.
"Paul and I both have work first thing when we get back," Emily said.
We walked out of the main building and onto the paths of the resort. Ambient light from nearby torches made the sky look grey and dull. The evening was quite muggy, the constant thrum of crickets filled the air. The paths and surrounding grass were wet like it had recently rained, though I knew it was from the sprinkler system.
When the paths split, Cassie and Jack turned towards the beach and their bungalow.
"I need to pack," Cassie said, "And I'm looking forward to getting some rest. After everything."
"I know what you mean," Mike said, "I feel like I could sleep for days."
We all walked down to the lake together. We passed the pool. It was empty at that hour, but brightly lit. The blue water glowed like it was made of some other, magical substance.
We went down the wooden jetty up to the front of the bungalow. Behind it on the lake, a parade of whimsical, electric sea creatures floated past. A bright, blue dragon leading an orange, drum-playing octopus, and a few others.
The creak of the front door as it opened was oddly loud against the persistent hush.
"Well, this is it," Jack said.
"It's been a lovely time," Emily said.
"Definitely," Mike said.
"We can't wait to do it again," Allison said, "Soon."
"I'm already looking forward to it," Cassie said.
We all stepped into the hallway of the bungalow. It was so familiar now, almost like coming home. Jack flipped on the lights, and we sauntered to the living room. Emily and I found our way to the couch. Allison and Mike sat down on the two, separate lounge chairs. Cassie grabbed a seat from the dining table and spun it around. Jack did the same.
After everything that had happened, we started in the strangest way of all. Emily leaned over, thin arm around my back, and kissed me, softly, on the lips. I let myself fall into her. It felt like forever since we'd melded this way. Like kissing my wife was our most novel experience yet.
I noticed differences now, in how Emily's lips met mine. I thought I knew how my wife kissed. Now her tongue deftly danced across my mouth. She gave me little nips and nibbles. Her body even responded differently, rising sharply as the anticipation, the adrenaline, pumped through her veins.
It was intriguing and upsetting, feeling how much my innocent wife had changed. I wondered if my kisses were different, too. Was Emily feeling the influence of Cassie and Allison on my affections in the same way that I could tell Jack and Mike had reshaped her?
Across the coffee table, I saw that Allison and Mike had leaned forward in their seats and started making out, as well. Her hand rested lovingly on his cheek. Cassie and Jack slid down to the rug and did the same. The older man bit tenderly at Cassie's earlobe, and she let out a low moan.
Emily undid her bun, letting her brown hair hang free. She reached for the hem of my t-shirt and lifted it over my head. She gave me a lustful grin as she ran her fingers through my thick, dark chest hair. She raised her arms, making it clear what she wanted. I took her top off for her. Her perky breasts looked so perfect in her black bra.
Jack pulled up Cassie's diaphanous, white dress in one smooth motion, leaving her in only a matching ivory bra and panties. Her golden blonde hair haloed around her head. She undid the buttons of Jack's shirt, exposing his tan, muscular pecs and silvery chest hair.
Allison and Mike stripped their own shirts off, hurriedly. Like they were racing to get themselves naked. Allison lovingly traced her fingers over Mike's long arms and thin, almost-hairless, chest. Mike, meanwhile, played with his wife's small, round breasts -- bouncing them, playfully. Allison took her strawberry-blonde, poker straight hair out of its ponytail, letting her locks spill down over her shoulders.
There was something strangely forbidden about this, watching each other with our mates. A marriage has an inherent intimacy, beyond whatever we'd already physically shared with our non-spouses. Displaying this part of our partnership was another layer stripped back and exposed. Ever closer to our fragile, fundamental cores.
Emily unsnapped her bottoms and slipped them out from under her little butt. She had on matching, black bikini panties. My petite wife in her underwear was almost sexier than when she was naked. Once she'd taken care of herself, Emily reached for my shorts and shoved them down, as well. My dick popped up in my boxers, epically hard.
With Emily nearly naked in front of me, I lost track of the rest of the room. I kissed my way down her neck and chest, exploring her body. Her floral scent filled my nose. Again, the heady mix of familiar and new spun in my mind.
I was with Emily, the love of my life. I was with some other strange woman who'd shared herself with two different men. Innocent Emily who enjoyed quiet, missionary sex in the dark, under the covers. Wild, lascivious Em, who cried out in orgasmic pleasure, cursing and pleading, while a stranger came inside her.
Both women existing in the same space. Inexorably different yet undeniably the same. It made me sick inside, how far we'd managed to escape from ourselves. How easily we came back together. Everything we'd gained was marred by all that it seemed we'd lost.
Emily clasped my cheeks with an almost overwhelming affection. She kissed me with an ardor I couldn't honestly remember ever experiencing, even when we were first together. She gripped me tight, like trying to hold onto the last wisps of a wonderful dream. Like I might drift away if she didn't hold me in place.
Was this it? Would Emily and I make love in front of our friends, there in the living room, and head home? Some part of me feared it, honestly. This was too intimate, too close. Strange how sex with my wife could make me feel so much more vulnerable than watching her with another man. Than being with a different woman, myself.
I knew that everything we'd done to this point had an element of the performative. Even when we'd separated the day before -- Emily's loud screams from the bathroom were still a way of announcing what she was doing. Of sharing her experience. But making love with my wife, truly encapsulating those words, with two other couples around us was different. Dangerous.
I felt another weight settle on the couch. Emily's hands on my neck loosened. I heard her giggle. I looked up and saw Mike, sitting behind her. Like me, the tall, thin man was down to his underwear. His long, rapier dick straining to burst free. He didn't even acknowledge me as I kept kissing my wife. As if Emily were making out with an invisible man.
Mike reached for Emily's bra and, displaying a deftness he'd lacked before, unsnapped it with ease. Her little breasts dropped free with a happy jiggle. Her upturned nipples looked like overripe strawberries. Mike slipped his hands up my wife's bare chest and cupped her tits, covering them completely. Pulling her from me so she was leaning back against him.
"God damn, Em," Mike said, "You're so fucking sexy."
My wife responded with a cute cackle, lying prone so Mike could grip her eager little titties harder. I swallowed my objections and, instead, focused on the opportunity that the tall man had provided for me. Because Emily was laying back, it had pushed her panty-covered pussy closer to me.
