Dave was looking into his open safe, there were a few business documents and the two incriminating DVDs from the Stag Parties, but his eyes were resting on the eight and a half thousand US dollars they had received in tips at Bob's function.
They only had a few bookings for January, which was a relief, as they had had functions coming out of their ears for the last three months. He transferred his attention to their function book and checked the details of those two bookings. Both bookings were simple, and he knew Sally could handle them, as they were both on the weekend, and Adam liked to help out to be with her on the weekends.
It would be a good time to take Trish on holiday. With that in mind, he picked up the phone and called a friend who worked at travel agents about booking a week or more in Bora Bora. His friend promised to get back with a quote in an hour or two.
Dave had asked about French Polynesia, as he and Trish often talked about Rufus's story of him and his wife with a pop band there. They had also played out that scene in their bedroom on more than one occasion in the last six months. Also, Trish spoke passable French, so he thought that might be helpful.
Their role plays were an established part of their sex life these days. But Dave wasn't sure he wanted to have Trish taking part in another group gangbang. But they had discussed finding a man so he could share Trish in a threesome. Trish wanted dave to be part of the action in their next sexual adventure.
They talked extensively about what sort of partner would be acceptable. Trish was not just looking for sex; she wanted to be seduced, wined and dined and taken out of her comfort zone, where she had existed for the last twenty years. She was up for trying new situations but did not want cheap, quick sex. Unfortunately, they had no luck finding anyone, but Dave thought the opportunities could be better on holiday.
The travel agent returned his call later that day, saying he had a deal in Moorea, Tahiti. He explained to Dave that Bora Bora was very popular, expensive and always packed with tourists. That was unless you could afford to stay at the most exclusive of their resorts there. He had found an excellent deal for ten days at a very smart resort on Moorea for a much more reasonable price, with overwater accommodation that would usually be way out of their reach. "You will get a better class of guests there, as it caters for a wealthier clientele," he explained.
Dave confirmed the trip with him and asked about using US dollars to pay. But the Travel agent told him that would be poor economics. "You change the money into NZ dollars to pay me, meaning you lose in the exchange and then have to change NZ money into French francs up in Tahiti. Much better to save your US dollars to use in Tahiti, as you'll get reasonably good rate there."
Dave transferred the money and raced home early to tell Trish what he had booked. He wasn't worried about the kids. One of the grandparents would love to have them. And Trish didn't start back teaching until the end of the summer school holidays in early February.
They stepped off their Air New Zealand Flight in Papeete a week later. And when the taxi pulled up outside their beautiful resort. They thought they had arrived in heaven. Once they had checked in, the porter led them past the pool and bar complex and onto the overwater walkway to their bungalow. Their bungalow was the second one out from the beach. Most of the bungalows appeared unoccupied, as only a few private decks had unpacked furniture.
Once settled in their room, Trish grabbed a handful of the US dollars and headed for the shop. Half an hour later, she returned with a white bikini and a Turquoise cover-all. The cover-all was not the sort you wore from the shoulder, but a much smaller one that was all the rage around the pool, a thin piece of material that you just knotted at the waist. The bikini, much to Dave's surprise, was tiny. There were some around the pool that were even briefer, but it was minuscule compared to anything Trish had ever worn in the past.
Mid-afternoon saw them perched on day chairs around the pool, Trish working on getting some good bikini lines. Dave was checking out the ladies around the pool. He had noticed a couple of ladies sunbathing topless down on the strip of beach that their overwater bridge crossed. So he hinted that they moved their chairs to the beach so she could sunbathe topless.
Trish's response was predictable, "Good try, mate, but I'm not going topless; you just keep perving on all these other ladies by the pool."
Time just flew; they tried all the activities, kite-sailing, windsurfing, etc. But most of the time, they spent by the pool, drinking and savouring the fantastic food. It took Dave two days to convince Trish to go topless, and once she had done it a couple of times, she became pretty used to it and worked on getting those beautiful breasts a golden brown like the rest of her body.
But they had not seen any guys in the resort that looked like possible candidates for their nocturnal fantasies. Of course, plenty of men were interested in Trish, and eyes followed her every time she walked around the pool. But the men that did pluck up the courage to talk with Trish all seemed to have a wife glaring at them from the other side of the pool.
With only four nights left off their holiday left, they woke to another beautiful day. After breakfast, they grabbed their beach gear and took up a spot on the lawn next to the pool. They had both resigned themselves to the fact that no illicit affair was likely to happen. But they were far from disappointed. Their holiday had been relaxing, and they had had great sex in one of the most idyllic settings on earth.
They Arranged their deck chairs facing away from the pool, looking out towards their bungalow. It gave them a little privacy if Trish wanted to slip her top off, and they loved the view of the sea.
The resort deck chairs were wooden and in two parts; the main body had an adjustable backrest and a separate footstool that locked onto the main chair body with two small pins. It was a good idea; far easier to shift around, and you could use it just as a chair if you wanted and have the footstool as a table. By this stage of their holiday, they knew the ropes and would get a spare footstool from another setting and place it between their deckchairs for their drinks and nibbles.
Midday, Dave had gone to the lunch bar and picked up some food. On the way back with it, he noticed a guy turning his chair around to perv on Trish. The guy was with two mates that were facing the pool. They were new arrivals. He had noticed them being escorted to a cabin when he and Trish were at breakfast that morning. He wondered if they were day guests as they only carried small duffle bags.
The guys stood out from the other guests. They looked to be military, and Dave thought they could be special forces, as the other guests gave them a wide berth when they walked past. They all looked to be in their thirties, extremely fit and athletic.
Dave sat in his chair and laid the food down on the footstool. He glanced towards the pool, pretending to check out the bar, and sure enough, the guy was checking Trish out. Dave leaned over to Trish as they ate their lunch, "Don't look around. I think a guy is watching you. I will go check out the shops and see what he does. I won't be long and will bring you back a drink."
