They agreed later that it was good that David checked his email so quickly after landing in Amsterdam, but it certainly didn't feel good at the time. "Oh, shit!" he said as the plane headed for the gate. "They cancelled the fucking cruise."
Elsie, who somehow still looked resplendent even after ten hours at 35,000 feet, had been searching for a breath mint when she heard this. She slumped enough that her face disappeared into the open Louis Vuitton handbag on the tray before her. "That was a joke," she said into the darkness. "Please, please tell me that was a joke."
He continued to read as he responded. "The cruise company in Athens didn't even have the courtesy to notify anyone. Zubby says she was checking our itinerary and found on the web that the staff just walked out of the offices, and the boat was seized for foreclosure."
She pulled her head out but kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath. "So what do we do?"
He reached over to take her hand -- no easy task, as the first-class seats were designed to give maximum distance from one traveler to the next.
"We do what we always do," he said with a smile. "We bounce."
As that comment registered, Elsie's eyes went from showing exhaustion to sparkling and excited. She squirmed in her seat with a quiet moan, squeezing her thighs together as her hand gripped his. Perhaps good things were soon to come.
Ten years prior, their honeymoon had been off to a fantastic start when it was suddenly rudely interrupted by the arrival of Hurricane Delores. Unable to fly out at the last moment from the tiny island airport, they accepted the shelter kindly offered by the villa's 60 year-old maid in a pre-storm moment of pity ("Ahyue ah go day'ya mi yaad" she said, then rolled her eyes when they 'didna unnerstand'. From there she directed with charades of pointed fingers and jerks of her head). Her concrete-block home was inland, far more solid and on much higher ground than the beachfront villa. They gathered up what they needed, followed her on the dirt road to her home, and arrived just as the rain began to fall.
While they maneuvered their carried bags around the sharp yellow tips of the heliconia plants that lined the path the back door, an attractive woman in her thirties emerged and helped her mother into the house. Even though he was bringing up the rear, David could not help but notice the way that the wind glued this woman's brightly-colored pareo skirt to her toned thighs and buttocks.
Ahead of him, out of his sight and therefore unnoticed, Elsie's eyes were similarly occupied.
The maid introduced them to her daughter -- though they later disagreed on what she said her daughter's name was. (He thought her name was "Marinette", she thought it was "Manerette". They didn't discover the difference in opinion until back at home without a way to figure it out. Whenever telling the story, each would use the name that they had heard originally -- not out of a desire to be argumentative, just unable to change the images of her in their memory.) Then they all helped out. Before the shutters started to awaken to the wind, lanterns were lit, food was on the table, and the box of bottles pilfered from the villa had been raided. The champagne was determined to be a perfect although unusual match with the delicate conch fritters. The delicious callaloo stew beckoned for the Sauvignon Blanc.
Soon it grew dark, and the older woman kissed her daughter on the top of the head and went up to bed. The daughter paused in the conversation as she watched her mother walk up the rounded stairs, saddened to see her mother's limp had grown more pronounced as the pressure of the storm enraged the arthritis in her knee. The daughter eventually explained, in a Caribbean English accent that had both of them smitten, that she always stayed with her mother during storms to take care of her. The mother, who would not awaken until the storm was wreaking havoc three islands to the west, would not have been surprised to find out that this was her 29th hurricane in this house, had she cared enough to do the math. She would sleep soundly, as she always did, upstairs behind thick walls and well-used shutters.
Lacking any chaperone and energized by the drama of the storm, they quickly bonded with the daughter. The next hour was non-stop conversation, filled with laughter. They all opened up more as each bottle of wine was uncorked.
By the time the palm leaves were clacking in the wind, the three of them were standing on the lanai, screaming their drunkenness into the darkness while leaning into the 70 mph winds. Marinette/Manette was wearing a white cotton button-down, and within a moment of walking out into the storm, her tits -- and they both agreed later that there could be no better term for such luscious breasts -- were on full display through the thin wet material. Neither David nor Elsie tried to look away for long, and when she finally reached out for them and pulled one to each side, the dam broke. Lips and hands were everywhere. Her nipples felt to Elsie like hammered copper, while the flesh around them was pliant, begging for more caresses. Both she and David complied, making sure to left no other part of her neglected in the process. Eventually the trio stumbled inside, unable to hear the wet splat of clothing hitting the floor, the walls, over the screaming winds outside.
Each of the three had different parts of the night that stood out in their memory. For Maniette (her real name), it was the joy of guiding the penis of a new husband into his new wife. David would never forget the two women, one atop the other, immersed in a passionate kiss as he plunged into one, then the other, from between their legs. Elsie loved it all, but remembered most awakening to subsiding winds, being in the middle yet unsure of who was stroking her nipple and who was cupping her ass.
In the morning, David and Elsie awoke to the old woman clomping around in the kitchen. Their lover was gone, off to make sure her flower shop had survived. They looked at each other, unsure what the appropriate reaction should be. They had never even discussed such a thing; Three days before, David had vowed to be faithful to her.
And as far as David knew, Elsie had never been attracted to a woman. He had much to learn about his new bride.
Their eyes that morning were full of fear, but were also bright with excitement. After a moment of panic, they recalled how beautiful the night have been. Simultaneously, they broke into laughter, more in love with each other than ever. They held each other tightly, realizing that they were both completely at peace with what had happened. It did not stop there -- the entire experience was so hot that they were both insatiable for the remainder of the honeymoon.
Neither was able to resist the almost constant rage of desire coursing through their bodies. They spent most of their remaining time in bed, in a frenzy of passion fueled by their "hurricane hookup." Even when her lower lips were chaffed and his testicles (especially the left one) was throbbing, they still could not stop themselves from seeking "just one more."
Three days later, they were walking across the tarmac to their plane, enjoying their last moments of Caribbean breeze, when they noticed a jeep pulling to a halt on the other side of the dilapidated security fence. "Goodbye, my friends," yelled Maniette, waving enthusiastically while leaning on the windshield. "You bounce good!" she said.
"What?" yelled David.
"You take bad, you make it good. You bounce!"
Throwing exaggeratedly blown kisses their way, she dropped into the driver's seat and drove off.
They had "bounced" together three other times during their marriage, all during vacations. Each had been like a switch being turned on -- suddenly there were no rules other than making sure each other was into the situation. Two of the three times involved more than one additional partner joining them; the second had been with multiple partners over multiple days. There had never been any regrets.
He checked his email again when they got into the Amsterdam terminal. "Excellent. Zubby sent info on the airport. The best bar in the airport is The Dutch Bar, 3 minutes away from here in the main terminal. There are shower rooms in the lounge in this terminal, two minute walk past that." He continued to read, and snickered. "There's a casino on this side of security if we get bored. Zubby booked us a room in the airport hotel, Hotel Mercure, but that's just a backup. She's talked to Albert at the Prinsengracht, and he's holding a suite for us in case we decide to stay downtown tonight. Our luggage is being held until we decide where we are going." He looked up at Elsie. "My god, I love that woman. She's the best hire I've ever made."
"I agree. I'm not sure how we ever did without her. Anyway -- show me the shower. I slept most of the flight and would kill for a glass of wine, but I'd like to freshen up first." She tried to run her hand through her mass of brunette hair, and only made it half way. Beautiful as she was, her current look was a far cry from what it had been when they left for the San Francisco airport.
Elsie looked at David, in his charcoal blazer and jeans, and realized that his short pepper-grey hair looked no different than usual. It was unfair, how much better men had it in life. As always, however, just being next to him made her heart flutter. She had fallen for many a man -- and woman -- over the years, but she had never yearned more for anyone in her life.
She took his large, masculine hand in her slender grasp, and pulled it to her chest. "If we can pull it off, I wouldn't mind showering together. You left me squirming with that comment before we took off, and not touching you for ten hours wasn't easy. I'd like to blow off some steam -- and perhaps something else as well." She ended her sentence by putting the tip of his pinky into her mouth and biting it lightly.
"And then, we get wine," she continued, without waiting for his reaction. "My bet is that we can decide where to spend the next 15 days by the time we get to the bottom of the bottle." With that, they joined hands and strolled down the terminal.
