Jodie and I spent our honeymoon in America, the jolly old US of A.
Actually I had wanted to go to the West Indies, maybe Martinique, but of course I was out-voted, and as frequently happens I didn't regret it at all.
We flew British Airways out of Heathrow, and landed at JFK several hours later, having tried but failed miserably to join the mile high club on the way. That didn't matter as we soon made up for it, as we toured the East coast, taking in New England and the surrounding area.
Coming from Huntingdon in Cambridgeshire, near to Cambridge University, we especially enjoyed our visit to Yale and Harvard, but the biggest surprise was quite how wonderful and rural New York State was. Not at all how we expected it to be.
Three weeks later Jodie and I had no doubt made love in more motels than the average American would manage in a lifetime.
We loved every minute of it, and vowed to one another on the aeroplane back, that it would not be long before we returned.
Great plan ----- great idea ---- but of course real life and our careers just got in the way.
Nine years on, and I, Dave Martin, and my wife Jodie, found ourselves in our early thirties, happily married, no children, and a lovely house mortgaged to the hilt, as most of the people in our position would be at that time --- but living life to the full. I had recently been made a junior director of Alscans Ltd., who specialised in high tech incinerator plants, in which in our narrow sector, we led the world. We were a small company but growing, and I had managed to grow with it. Under my boss George, who virtually owned the company, I guess I was about number four or five in line.
Jodie had done quite well, but as a schoolteacher her progression was a matter of length of service as well as ability, and just occasionally she got frustrated that I had shot ahead of her. I later wondered whether it was this sort of jealous undercurrent that made her act in the way that she did.
I would say without doubt that we were still in love, not perhaps with the passion that we had when we'd first got married, but that was to be expected. Our love life was not bad at all, with the odd week or two of abstinence when we were both under pressure, made up for by the more frequent flurry of sexual activity when we were both in the mood.
Our story starts when we were in the middle of a particularly long spell of the former, but looking forward to a well-deserved period of the latter.
We hadn't actually taken a holiday of any sort for almost a year, but Jodie had broken up from school the week before, and we were due to go off on a well deserved break to the Beaches of Spain just the next day.
Jodie dragged me out to buy some new holiday clothes for the pair of us, though as expected, I ended up with one pair of shorts. No surprise that Jodie ended up with four or five new outfits, and each one more revealing than the last.
It was the last one she chose that started her off.
Jodie tended to be rather adventurous and headstrong on holiday, and wore and did things that she would perhaps not normally do at home. I suppose that day, that she had already entered into the holiday spirit, and the blouse that she picked out seemed to reflect that fact exactly.
"Do you like it?" She asked, as she held it up for my approval.
"It's a bit see-thru," I noted, not with any genuine disapproval.
"Then it's just what I'm looking for then," Jodie told me. "I'd better try it on I suppose."
She disappeared out of my sight into the changing room with the filmy, black wisp of satin, leaving me stood there with six or seven other guys all waiting, like me, for their wives or girlfriends.
I wondered whether Jodie would decide herself, or whether she would come out and model it for me, to see what I thought. I thought that she had put on a fairly skimpy bra that morning, so if she did come out, then a few guys could be in for a minor treat.
She did come out. Right out into the waiting area --- no peeping round the corner for me to come and look like some girls do.
I did get one thing wrong though, and that was the bra. It probably had been the skimpy one that she'd put on that morning, but since she'd removed it to model the blouse, then it didn't make much difference.
Male eyes, including my own, popped open in surprise as Jodie spun around showing the new blouse off to me. Well, nominally to me.
It was black.
It was flimsy.
Other than that, what could I say?
It covered her ---- well sort of I guess.
It covered her up adequately --- well I couldn't really go along with that.
What was the word or phrase I was looking for?
Hid her --- no.
Protected her assets --- certainly not.
Covered her breasts --- well not really.
Guarded her modesty --- hardly at all.
Could me and the other guys make out the shape of her tits --- You bet we could.
Could we see her erect nipples ___ bet your bloody life we all could.
Bloody hell, my missus Jodie was flashing her boobs off at all the guys there as if she was topless. The thin material of the blouse hardly camouflaged what was underneath, and her nipples stuck out like thimbles, every detail plainly on view.
It would have been less erotic if she had been bare to the waist.
And she was loving it!
I couldn't honestly claim that I was that upset, but she was loving it --- the cheeky cow!
Jodie bought the blouse, and we moved on to the next shop.
Then we got the new bikini!
If you could describe it as such.
She disappeared into the changing room, and seemed to take her time. Eventually she pulled the curtain back and stood there for me to admire.
Bloody hell!
I found my heart pounding as I stood there looking at her, aware that at least a couple of other chaps waiting around were also getting an eyeful. Jodie I should explain is a rather attractive young woman, about five foot three, reasonably slim and with boobs that though not more than a "B" cup, thrust out firmly as if issuing a challenge.
