David, ever the romantic, first suggested a return trip to Hawaii over candlelight during our Valentine's Day dinner. We hadn't been back in years, he reminded me. Money was coming in steadily now, and, frankly, we deserved a little down time. One month later, our bags were packed and we settled in for the six-hour flight from Denver to Honolulu. This was going to be a memorable vacation, David and I kept telling each otherβlittle did I know how special the week would turn out to be.
My husband found the perfect hotel just two blocks in from Waikiki Beach. Spacious, but affordable. King-sized bed, Jacuzzi in the bathtub. Well-stocked mini-bar. Particularly appealing was the balcony overlooking the swimming pool three floors below. We could lounge comfortably in our chairs, catch a little sun, and check out our fellow guests in the pool.
David was not shy about his expectations for the week. "Don't pack too many clothes," he warned, only half-kidding. "Bring that bathing suit I like. Buy some new lingerie to model in the room. Believe me, I have plans for you, Babe."
I knew instantly what he meant. David and I had enjoyed a pretty healthy sexual relationship during our nine-year marriage. He knew how to please me and I have to believe he enjoyed what I had to offer. At the age of 34, I still knew how to look good in a bathing suit with my blonde hair, 36-B sized breasts, and long legs that went forever. Yes, we would check out the beach, sample some great restaurants, definitely pay our respects at Pearl Harbor, but David made it clear that the focus of our trip would be romance and intimacy. He wanted us to reconnect physically. That mattered to me as well and my fantasies were already in high gear as I searched online for lingerie that would drive David crazy.
Our flight was routine and we arrived at the hotel shortly after 6 p.m., exhausted from the travel, but excited to be back in Hawaii. We agreed to keep that first night simple. Fresh scallops and Mai Tais for dinner at Tommy Bahama's and holding hands on a sunset walk on the beach afterwards. Then time to turn in. Get some sleep. Begin our fun in the morning. Poor David was already halfway to dreamland before I could undress and slide under the covers next to him. I was tempted to wake him by stroking his limp penis before taking it full throttle in my mouth, but there was time for that tomorrow. Instead, I rolled over on my back and softly rubbed my clit with my finger, having an orgasm in seconds. Then another. Thinking about David taking me hard and forcefully. I had to stop or I would never get to sleep. I sensed already that this vacation was going to be different.
The next morning unfolded slowly. We ate breakfast at a small cafΓ© on Kalakaua Avenue before wandering over to the International Market in search of bargain trinkets. I needed to bring gifts back to friends in Denver, but David was clearly in no mood for shopping. His hand kept running up and down my back with the occasional friendly pat on the butt. I could see his cock starting to harden inside his shorts.
"You OK, sailor?" I asked, trying to contain my smile. "Looks like you're excited to see me."
David leaned over and kissed me, his hand brushing against my left breast. "Let's go back to the room," he urged. "Time to play. C'mon, Babe"
Shopping could wait. We held hands as we walked back to the hotel. I couldn't believe how excited my body was beginning to feel. I was already wet in anticipation of what the rest of the morning might bring. David had his hands on my breasts, squeezing tight, as soon as the elevator doors closed, kissing me and sticking his tongue down my throat. The man was on fire. And this was still morning.
David grinned as he fumbled for the passkey at our door. It took three swipes before the door popped open. We both laughed, but the anticipation was palpable, acting like hot teens about to go at it for the first time. That's what I loved about my husband. His passion was real. He never faked his desire for me. I wanted him right then, right there, on the goddamn floor. I started unzipping his shorts.
"Whoa-Whoa-Whoa!" he said. "Time out!"
"Time out?" My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "This was your idea, Mister. Do you want to fuck me, or not?"
"Oh, I do! You bet that sweet ass I do!" David pulled me towards him and kissed me hard, his hands moving all over my body.
I could barely breathe. "Ok, then. Party time!"
David shook his head. "Hold on a second. Let's have some fun. We're on vacation. Let's play 'How About Him?'"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My pussy needed immediate attention and David wanted to play silly fantasy games. But there was no mistaking that naughty look in his eyes.
"You're serious?"
"C'mon," replied David. "We'll make it quick." He walked over to the mini-bar and pulled out two Coronas. "The pool should be packed by now. Let's take a look. Who knows? Your dream guy might be down there."
This was a game David loved to play, imagining me with different men while he watched. It was his favorite fantasy. Harmless fun. So I surrendered. "Whatever." David handed me a Corona and opened the sliding door to the balcony, gesturing for me to follow. "But you better be inside me within the next five minutes or you'll be taking a cold shower."
That made David laugh. We stood on the balcony, nestled against one another, leaning over the railing to check out the action beneath us. The warm sun was already drawing a crowd to the pool. David began his search.
"How about him?" he asked, pointing.
"Who?"
"Yellow swim suit. Dark glasses. Would you fuck him, Babe?"
"Right now, I'd fuck just about anything," I replied. "My husband isn't satisfying me."
"Play the game, Charlotte. Would you fuck him?"
I gave Mr. Yellow Swim Suit a half-look. "No, not really. Bald guys don't turn me on."
"Fair enough," David said. The search continued. "How about that guy climbing out of the pool? Blue trunks. How about him?"
I leaned over closer. Squinting my eyes. "Hmmm. Interesting. I've always wanted to fuck a black man. Would that be OK with you, David?"
David, took a long swig of beer, closing his eyes, probably picturing what that might be like. "Definitely," he finally said, barely a whisper.
"You would let me fuck a black man?"
David's left hand disappeared inside his front pocket as he began rubbing his cock. "Yes. Oh, yes. Fuck him hard."
"I would. Oh, you know I would. But only if you'd watch."
David nodded. He started to speak, but something caught his eye. "Hello. Who is that guy?"
I followed David's gaze to the entry gate at the pool. The man in question was just stepping inside. Open Hawaiian shirt revealing a full chest of hair. Sun glasses. Wavy chestnut hair. Maybe 40 years old. Maybe. Trim body. Walking with confidence towards an empty lounge chair.
"Oh, my," I gasped. "He's gorgeous."
"Would you fuck him? Be honest, Charlotte."
The words came tumbling out of my mouth. "Without hesitation." Did I really say that about another man to my husband?
David took a deep breath. Deciding. This was clearly no longer a fantasy in his mind. "Why...Why don't I go down and talk to him?"