Journey to Another Life

The private villa Ed had rented for their one-week stay in St. Martin had its own pool with an ocean view that Nikki adored. The villa's altitude removed it from the human sounds on the beach below, providing the lovely delusion of being quite isolated from the madding crowds. After the first day, however, Nikki gravitated toward the beach. "We don't want to miss anything," she said.

Ed suspected she just wanted to show off that bikini she'd given a test run at the Hampton Head Beach Club. Sure enough, the shiny but transparent sea blue bikini she'd sported on day one at their pool was replaced by the barely-there white one on day two.

"I wondered when you'd get around to that one," Ed said, beaming at his bride in her deliciously indecent swimwear.

She smiled. "You know how it is with white. I wanted to get a little base tan before I wore it."

"Ah. I see. Base tan. For contrast, right?"

"Exactly!"

The Caribbean sun was as brilliant as Ed remembered. Tanned, toned, and tantalizing bodies surrounded him but unlike his previous trip here pre-Nikki, they didn't fascinate him quite as much as they once had. Nikki, however, was like a kid in a candy store.

"God, you can just feel the sex here!" She observed as she sucked up her tropical drink through a straw. In her dark glasses and large-brimmed hat, she had the appearance of a spy.

"Can you?" He asked her, letting his eyes travel over her mostly exposed body.

She turned to him. "Totally! Just watch people," she continued, putting her drink down on the low table beside them. "Everybody's flirting but it feels more ... deliberate. As if there's real intention behind it."

"What do you mean?"

"They even move differently than they would at home! Look at those two over there. Tell me he's not circling her like a panther!"

Ed followed her nod to a shapely Filipina-looking woman and a man who resembled a young Julio Iglesias. The woman, relaxing on her beach blanket, was grinning as a cat might at the proximity of a mouse. Meanwhile, the man, holding a beach ball, took occasional but well-timed strides around the perimeter of her blanket, talking to her through a crooked smile. Their imminent future didn't seem terribly mysterious, Ed had to admit.

"Maybe they know each other," Ed offered.

"No," she guffawed. "They just met and they like what they see. And they know they're in a place where they don't have to play any games. They can act on what they feel."

"Because they're on vacation?"

She laughed. "Well, maybe that's part of it, but it's also this place. The sea air, the sun, the drinks!" She picked up her glass again and toasted him with a smile. "All of it just peels away the layers of pretense. People look at each other, make a decision, and go for it. If they were home, they'd have to play hard to get, find out more about the other person, make sure they were suitable—all that silliness. Here they can be more primal!"

She was right, of course, and he loved her for not only noticing but appreciating the rampant but discreet sexual undercurrent that characterized the Caribbean. But he wanted to draw her back to the sex that awaited her, not others.

Before he could open his mouth, however, she continued. "Have you noticed how many beautiful bodies there are here? It's incredible, really. They say L.A. is amazing, but this has got to be right up there. You can't tell me they were all born this way!"

"Well, you were. Maybe they were, too."

She blew him a kiss. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"And the most beautiful."

She settled back in her chaise and surveyed the bodies as she sipped her drink. "Good thing I didn't know about this place before I met you! I would've gotten into some serious trouble here."

"Yes. There are certainly lots of your, um, favorite things here." His crotch got warm. And it wasn't from the sun.

He followed her gaze to a solidly built black man with muscles that gleamed with suntan oil. Something in Ed's stomach flip flopped and he couldn't think of anything to say. Turns out, he didn't need to.

"Well, now that you mention it, yes." She laughed. "It's kind of made to order for me, isn't it?"

The truth was that the beach was full of attractive black men, a fact that hadn't escaped Ed's notice at all. He had wondered whether Nikki would bring it up or just avoid the topic for the duration of their honeymoon. He had hoped for the latter.

"A bit of a paradise, I guess you'd say." He sought to keep the conversation light. He didn't mind her admiring attractive men but he didn't want to talk about them at length.

"Have you noticed the way our little game is going? I like big black guys and you seem to like the idea of me with big black guys. I'm thinking maybe this trip could be more than a honeymoon for us, you know?"

She hadn't expected silence from him, so she kept talking.

"I'm not suggesting anything, really, but there are just so many nice-looking black guys about..."

He fidgeted, struggling to find the right response.

She reached across the low table to take hold of his arm. "I'm sorry, sweetie! I don't want you to think I want to be a slut on our honeymoon! It was just an idea. I thought if you were into it, we could try it. You know I'd never do it unless you wanted me to."

A disconcerting wave of disappointment passed over him. Damn it. Her talk had made him hard, a predicament not easily concealed in swim trunks. He knew it was wrong and he didn't understand why he couldn't control himself.

"Want to go back to the villa?" She asked, eyeing his bulge.

"Yes, but ... it's a little ... awkward." Multiple emotions swung at his peace of mind: confusion, arousal, disappointment, excitement, embarrassment. Leaving the beach sounded like a great idea but how he'd manage it wasn't clear yet.

She giggled and handed him her hat. "Here. Use this. Last one up there is a rotten egg!" She scrambled to her feet and led the way. Positioning the hat over his crotch, he followed her, grateful that the paucity of her bikini distracted people from his erection.

Sex in the air-conditioned villa restored his equilibrium. To his relief, he didn't bring any images of Nikki with black men to bed with him and enjoyed her with blissful abandon, even requesting that she keep the bikini top on while he made love to her. The island atmosphere had made them both insatiable, and they loved every minute of their hunger.

What seemed like hours later—the sun had moved a great distance since they'd been on the beach—they lounged under the villa's large and gracious awning at the pool, letting the rhythmic ocean sounds lull them.

"That was so fantastic," she said quietly.

"It always is," he replied, unable to control the widening of his grin. He could still smell her on his nose and hands.

"Today was especially great, I think. Must be this island. Some kind of native spell, maybe." She wore a very short, white cotton dress that could have been a beach cover-up, Ed surmised. She wore nothing underneath, so as she sat on the lounge chair with one leg bent, he had a clear view of her pubic patch.

"Yes."

She paused only a moment. "Do you think it had anything to do with our conversation on the beach?" She didn't look at him and he felt that she was steeling herself against his discomfiture.

"Does it matter?"

Now she looked at him. "Maybe. I saw the look in your eye when we talked about me and black men, Ed. You were turned on. Admit it."

He wasn't quite ready to go into this topic again so soon. He had been looking forward to an uncomplicated, relaxing evening, but it looked like Nikki had different ideas.

"Yes, I think that was obvious." Half the beach had probably seen his reaction to their earlier conversation.

"All this teasing we're doing is fun, but with you getting so turned on, I'm starting to wonder if it's something we should explore a little more seriously. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

For the first time as he looked at her, he could see that this line of questioning was probably as difficult for her as it was for him. His heart softened. "Yes, I think I do understand what your saying."

"So, be honest with me. Do you think we should go further with this thing? Do you want me to fool around with a black man?"

He had no idea. Not a clue. Nothing was clear, which was not a comfortable situation for him. In all other aspects, he was accustomed to being in control, and knowing what had to come next.

"I just can't answer you, Nik. I don't know. And I don't know how to figure it out. My cock could answer you, I think, but my brain can't seem to process the information as quickly."

"I understand. You know you can always trust me, right?"

"Of course but fantasy and reality are completely different things."

"Well I love you more than anything and anyone in the world. I never, ever want to hurt you."

"I know."

"If you want something, I want to give it to you," she added.

"Yes but I really don't think I want it at all Nikki."

"Well I wouldn't be doing it just for you. I could enjoy it, too."

He chuckled. "That's clear, too, yes but I might not like that either."

She sat upright and turned to him in earnest. "We may not get many opportunities like this, Ed. This place, this time. And let's face it, honeymoons were made for sex." That familiar mischief played behind her imploring green eyes. "We could kill two birds with one stone, when you think about it. Both our fantasies at once—I get my black man and you get to watch."

He was horrified to find himself hard again and hoping she didn't notice it.

"Nice boner, by the way."

Bingo.

"Yes, that's true, and maybe I need to stop fighting it. Maybe my cock is smarter than my brain but I doubt it Nikki I just don't think I could bear that type of lifestyle."

"Maybe! I just want you to do whatever feels right and not just what you think is right. I love you and that's first."

"All right. How about we just play it by ear, then? If an opportunity presents itself, we can consider it." He could barely believe what he was saying but there it was.

Nikki agreed with more enthusiasm than he expected, but he couldn't fault her. He was the one who'd formulated and presented their strategy much to his horror.

Three days passed, and although no opportunities jumped up and called attention to themselves, the teasing continued.

"Oh, now there's a fine specimen," Nikki commented quietly as a exceptionally black man strolled by them while they sat in a cafe one afternoon.

"Shall I proposition him for you?" Ed had asked her sarcastically on day two when a local couldn't take his eyes off Nikki.

They didn't act on these moments, and yet, the eventuality of bringing their mutual fantasy to fruition burned strong. They'd had sex several times since the decision and each time, Ed imagined dark, sinewy muscles against his tanned, white goddess. Early on, he wondered whether the fantasy might be better than the reality, but by day three, he was ready to put the fantasy to the test.

"A strange thing has happened," he confided to Nikki. "I really feel like I could let go of my inhibitions if the right situation came along."

She smiled and her relief was obvious. "I'm glad! But still, we should be careful and not do anything unless it feels absolutely right."

He liked her caution, but he realized that at some point during the past three days, he'd lost a substantial portion of his own. This worried him he knew it wasn't something he could live with but he didn't know how to communicate his dilemma to Nikki. He knew he liked the idea of having a slut wife as long as it wasn't a actuality. He knew Nikki was a far more spontaneous creature and it was one of the things he loved most about her. But how could he make her understand that what his cock said he wanted wasn't what his heart wanted? He knew she would do anything she thought might shake up his conservative outlook but he also knew she really loved him in a way he could almost feel in his soul and that she would never hurt him.

The villa was part of a larger group of homes that shared a common pool. On day four, Nikki told Ed she'd meet him there—she was tired of sand, she said. He had phone calls to make and she wanted to get some sun.

Upon his arrival, he perused every chair and chaise at the large public pool but couldn't find her. Had he misunderstood? Just as he was about to leave, he spotted her in her white bikini sitting on the edge of the pool. She didn't seem him at first, however, because she was actively engaged in conversation with two young black men who swam near her legs. She was laughing and openly flirting with them, and true to the island's nature, the men eyed her with no attempt to mask their desire.

When she finally felt Ed looking at her, her eyes met his with only a conspiratorial wink as acknowledgement. Was this the opportunity she had been waiting for, Ed thought? Two men? He hadn't considered such a scenario and suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to.

He walked by on his way to the bar, leaving her to play her games. Games that they'd agreed were acceptable in pursuit of their so called shared fantasy. So why did he feel so lousy?

Unwilling to leave but unprepared to join in his wife's flirtations, Ed took a seat at the pool bar and ordered a drink. Periodically, he'd glance over at Nikki, whose delight with her new companions seemed to grow exponentially by the minute. He tried to exchange small talk with the bartender, watch other women, even think about work, but nothing drowned out the sound of her tinkling laughter. He imagined how hard and ready the two young men must be, watching her perfect body moving so freely between them. It didn't surprise Ed to realize that his cock had gone rigid with curiosity and that he was now openly staring at the three of them in the pool. He fought his instinct to walk there, pull her out, and make love to her in front of the entire pool crowd. Nevertheless, that's all he wanted to do. Eventually he decided to end the charade. He would just have to go up and drag her back to the villa and come clean with her. He was just planning in his mind how he was going to tell her that after great consideration he did definitely not want another man anywhere near her when..

"Ed Stewart?"

A deep voice came from his other side, making him jump. He turned to find a smiling, very large black gentleman looking at him as if he knew him. The man had his hand extended so that Ed could shake it, and although Ed did so, his failure to recognize the man didn't go unnoticed.

"Charles Baker," he explained, again in that smooth, resonant voice. "I understand if you don't remember me, but I certainly remember you. The Whitbread race a few years back where your team won? I crewed on the other boat."

The man was a good ten years older than Ed—probably in his late forties—and very striking, yet Ed still didn't recall him. Charles' memory of him, however, impressed him. Winning the Whitbread round-the-world sailing race had been a high point in Ed's sailing career and it was nice not only to be remembered for it but also held in such high esteem.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Ed lied. "Nice to see you again! What brings you to St. Martin? Do you still crew?"

"Thank you. It's great to see you, too. I still crew now and then, yes, but I live here. I run a small cafe on the beach. Kingfish—maybe you've seen it?" Charles' diction and bearing were positively regal. His voice had a slight island lilt to it but only enough to give it inflection.

"No, I haven't, but we've only been here a few days and haven't gotten out as much as we should, probably."

"Here's a card," Charles said as he handed a business card to him. "It tends to get busy at night, so if you plan to come, you might want to call me first and I can make sure there's a table for you. We don't take reservations but I make room for special guests." He smiled, revealing large, white teeth. The kindness in his face disarmed Ed thoroughly.

"Thank you very much. We'll be sure to come."

"Are you here with someone?" Charles asked.

"Oh! Yes! I'm sorry. I should have explained. I'm here on my honeymoon. My wife is ..." His voice trailed off as he froze—should he point this elegant man in Nikki's direction and let him witness her wanton flirtations or should he simply not let on that she was in the vicinity at all? The dilemma proved moot because as his eyes wandered in the direction where he'd last seen her, only clear water remained. Nikki was gone.

Ed scanned the pool twice more, feeling panic bubbling up in his stomach, as he heard Charles ask, "Your wife is where, Ed?"

"Not here," Ed said, sliding off his barstool and getting to his feet. "She was in the pool just a few minutes ago and now I don't see her at all." He didn't want to alarm Charles but he was filled with dread for Nikki. What if the two men had abducted her? What if they took her against her will? What if her teasing had been misinterpreted as willingness?

"I'm sorry," Charles said as he looked about, unsure what or who he was looking for. "How can I help?"

"You can serve up the best fish on the island when we come visit!" He said, slapping Charles on the back. "And now you must excuse me, Charles. I need to find my wife. We'll be seeing you soon, though!"

He left the pleasant man standing at the bar. Ed practically sprinted back to the villa, desperately hoping to find her there, perhaps in the shower. But the villa was empty. He headed for the beach and met with the same unsatisfying result. The blinding sun made his search among the throngs of bronzed bodies more difficult. The more he looked, the louder his pulse became. Finally, with no place else to go, he returned to the pool.

Bodies populated the water but none of them belonged to his wife. He stood, calculating his next move as he heard the distant sound of her laughter from the small, secluded beach just south of the pool. He approached with caution, fearing the worst.

The cove, a hiding place scooped out of sand by nature herself, gave the threesome just enough privacy to make them bold. A topless Nikki sat between the two young black men. How had that top come off, Ed wondered?

He didn't ponder the mystery very long. His need to see more vanquished all questions. He crept forward to get a better view, keeping in mind that he might be seen either by the ménage a trois or worse, someone he knew. Nikki was silent now as one of the youths French-kissed her in a long, intense exchange of tongues. The other young man massaged her back and watched. Ed caught a glimpse of her white bikini thong bottoms. At least they hadn't come off yet, he tried to reassure himself. The men, too, still wore their swim trunks, he noted with relief.

But whose idea had it been to retreat to the cove? Nikki didn't appear to be acting under duress. Had she persuaded them to leave the public pool or had the notion been suggested by one of the men? He didn't know why it mattered, really, but the thought wouldn't stop tormenting him. He could forgive her if two sex-starved men coerced her into slipping away in private but if she'd been the one doing the coercing, that moved her solidly out of the accomplice and firmly into the perpetrator category.

Was this her idea of playing things by ear? Ed hadn't been consulted on any portion of this plan in progress and didn't appreciate this maverick decision-making on her part. Even as his cock reared up and pulsed wildly as the men helped themselves to his bride he felt a inner fear and revulsion and the beginnings of a mixture of jealous rage and despair.

The two men switched, with the kissing one now providing luxuriating sweeps of his hand down her back. The other man delivered light but hardly tentative kisses to her lips and she returned them with no discernible reluctance.