The Adventuros Wife

SUNDAY EVENING

The attractive couple stepped onto the veranda, escaping from the hubbub of the convention registration and ice breaker inside. The sun was setting over the turquoise blue Caribbean, casting deep shadows on the jungle covered volcanic hills that framed the white sand beach.

Sandy sighed contentedly and murmured, "Oh Hon, this is magnificent. Thank you so much for bringing me along."

Sandy was a gorgeous creature with long brown hair and dark, expressive eyes. She had modeled some in high school and college, but her figure was too voluptuous to allow a professional modeling career with its modern taste for scarecrow thin women. It was probably just as well. Her beauty might distract from but could never hide her keen intelligence. She would have been bored to tears by a career of preening and posing for the camera.

Bill, smiled happily at his wife's pleasure. "Yeah, it is really something. They told me at the registration desk that this building is the original French sugar plantation mansion from the 1700s and houses the five-star restaurant, bar, and meeting rooms."

Sandy added, "It is an old colonial masterpiece, but Im glad the new four-story annex with our room has all the modern conveniences."

Bill shook his head in wonderment, "I just can't believe I got to come to this convention. This is the big time. It is by invitation only and limited to a hundred people. I saw Marta had you cornered while I was getting registered."

Sandy arched her eye brows and smiled. "Oh my gosh, your boss' wife is a hoot. She says Henry has picked you up for the fast track. That is why you are at the meeting with him. Marta says she and I might as well get to be good friends; we will be seeing a lot of each other from here on. I really, really like her a lot."

Bill was pleased to hear his wife's inside scoop on his career and asked, "So did Marta enlist you in the spouse activities. I think I saw there are tours of the old sugar mill, shopping in the village, bird walks, sailing lessons, and the like. You can stay as busy as you want while I am stuck in my dull meetings."

"Oh no! I am here to totally relax and loaf. Marta twisted my arm until I signed up with her to play doubles tennis after breakfast each day. It's a "for fun" tournament for us wives. Otherwise, I am napping, sunning, and reading in total, abject, pampered uselessness."

Sandy smiled to herself as she recalled her friend Betty's admonishment, "Girl, you need a break and some serious time off. As your lead and favorite surgical nurse, I am prescribing sun, rum, and sex to excess. That hot hunk of a husband of yours can certainly furnish the latter in spades."

At 33, Sandy was a promising new heart surgeon, just finishing up her fellowship at Emory and recruited to remain on staff. However, the decade of medical school, residency, and specialized fellowship training had taken a toll. She was exhausted and worn to a frazzle. It had been three years since she actually took a week off. Husband, colleagues, and friends were all unanimous that Sandy needed to take a breather and pamper herself a little before rejoining the fray."

Bill was the same age as Sandy. He had played football at Virginia but lacked the size and skills to go on to the pros. He had done ROTC and went in the Army as an infantry lieutenant for four years. After two tours overseas with one purple heart, Bill got out and used the GI bill to pay for an MBA at Wharton. This led to a job in international finance in Atlanta. There, mutual friends had introduced him to Sandy five years ago while she was doing her residency. The rest was history as they say.

Bill fussed protectively over Sandy, as he was prone to do. "Well, you know you haven't been out in the sun lately. You are white as a sheet these days. This tropical sun will blister you in no time. Be sure to use plenty of sunscreen."

Sandy grimaced in mock exacerbation and replied sarcastically, "Yes, doctor."

Bill laughed at himself and said sheepishly, "I guess that was kinda silly. You are a grown woman and can figure it out yourself. The beach is beautiful here; just don't overdo it."

"I won't. Besides I was thinking I would mostly hang out at the pool rather than the beach. I hate getting all sandy."

Bill looked puzzled, "You know, I have not seen the pool. Surely, they have one."

"Oh, they do. I checked out the hotel on the internet before we left. The whole roof of the annex where our room is consists of a large Olympic-sized pool, hot tub, sauna, sundeck, bar, and grill."

"Wow, that should be nice. The view must be stunning from up there. Besides you can get an adult libation as you lounge in idle splendor while us working stiffs labor."

"I can indeed." Sandy glanced at him uncertainly and then turned her gaze out to the ocean and said nonchalantly, "While checking out the hotel, I noticed the pool is optionally topless." She glanced back at Bill to gauge his reaction.

He arched his highbrows, "Really. Well, I guess it is a French Island." He peered at her inquisitively with widened eyes, "Are you ...?"

She blushed slightly and said defensively, "Well, maybe."

Bill laughed, "Honey, if anyone is equipped to go topless it is you. I just claim the right to come peek at my scandalous wife topless in public. Go for it."

Sandy gushed with relief, "Really? I was afraid you would throw a fit. I always wanted to try sunning topless and feel a little frisky getting away from home and work. Besides if I am going to get a nice tan while I am here, I certainly don't want those ugly tan lines. Oh my, I haven't done anything this crazy since I was in college. "

Sandy looked at Bill with concern, "My going topless won't backfire on your work will it? "

"Nah. This is a very cosmopolitan, international crowd. I seriously doubt you will be the only wife up there tanning her boobs. I do have to ask a question though."

Sandy looked askance at Bill, "Uh-oh, what?"

"What was the thing you referred to doing in college that was as crazy as going topless?"

"Oh No! My past sins are staying buried."

"Come on. I am going along with your topless adventure. I want to hear the juicy skinny on your other scandal."

Sandy groaned, "OK. It was the end of sophomore year. The last exam finished that afternoon. Six of us girls got together at my apartment to celebrate before splitting up for the summer. We ordered pizza. One of the girls had an older sister who was over 21, and she got wine for us."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty coeds. Go on," Bill encouraged with an intrigued smile.

"There were some guys grilling steaks back of the next apartment building and drinking beer. We decided to streak them."

Bill shook his head in wonderment, "My wife the heart surgeon is a streaker?"

"Yeah, well, it didn't quite go as planned. One gal chickened out right away. Two more chickened out when they were half undressed. The three of us who got naked dashed out the door on "go." The other two went about ten feet. They stopped, screeched, and ran back into the apartment, slamming and locking the door behind them. Some friends!"

Bill closed his eyes and sympathized, "You have to be kidding. What did you do?"

Sandy laughed ruefully. "Well, I am standing naked as a jaybird outside a locked door so I just took off running and shot by the boys going about mach two and waving madly as I went. The boys were all whistling and cheering, of course. That got people everywhere turning around and looking and peering out of windows. I made quite a spectacle of myself."

"In all my born days, I would never of dreamed you did that."

Sandy grinned, "Don't worry, it gets worse. We had a good plan. After passing the boys we, which by now had become just me, were to circle around the front of the apartment building and back to the breeze way and my apartment in the adjacent building. In the dark we would be hard to identify, it would be unclear exactly what apartment we came from, and besides we were all leaving for the summer in the next day or two."

Bill asked, "I take it things did not go as planned?"

Sandy snorted, "Not hardly. As I rounded the front of the boys' building, a cop car came cruising through the parking lot and caught me in its headlights. As luck would have it, the cop riding shotgun was a young guy who'd been on the force for about three years. Unfortunately, before that, he had also been on the track team at school. He was fast and caught me in about 50 feet. As the young cop held me in a bear hug, the older cop came charging up with a blanket to cover my nakedness."

"That certainly turned into a disaster. I love it!"

Sandy was grinning ruefully again, "Yeah, well thanks for nothing. There I am wrapped in a blanket, while the old cop gives me a dressing down in front of everyone in the whole apartment complex. There must have been fifty or sixty people out there hooting and laughing. My friends were all hiding in my apartment, too embarrassed to come out. Then the cops marched me back to my apartment. They took back their blanket at the door, leaving me naked in front of everyone again, and sent me in while threatening to call my parents."

"Well Sandy, baring your boobs at the pool hardly compares to that fiasco."

"Don't I know it. It took forever to live that night down. But you know what?"

"What?"

Sandy smiled seductively, "I was turned on like never before. I think I am a closet exhibitionist just dying for a chance to get loose."

"You mean as in sexually aroused? Just from running around naked in public?"

"Yep, I sure was. I remember in some early psych class in med school we talked about a Swedish study that found a little over 2% of the surveyed women had done some form of public exhibition of themselves and were turned on sexually by it. I had my one and only streaking experience a few years before so the study stuck in my mind." She laughed, "I guess I am one of the few, the naked, and the turned-on."

Sandy gave Bill a playful punch in the shoulder and teasingly said, "You better look out, Bubba. If I start flashing my boobs at the pool, no telling what I might do!"

Further conversation was interrupted as Henry and Marta came out on the veranda. Henry exclaimed, "There you two are. Come on in. I want to introduce you to some colleagues from Italy. We are going to be doing some big work with them this coming year."

MONDAY EVENING

Sandy sat at a cozy table on the hotel restaurant porch sipping a Martini. An earlier text had announced Bill was running late getting loose from the meeting and would meet her at the restaurant. She contentedly contemplated her first full day of vacation. It had certainly been far more pleasant and relaxing than she expected.

Sandy had made a relatively early 6:30 dinner reservation as she had plans for the evening. She had gotten an extra blanket from housekeeping, and after supper, she was taking her husband for a walk on the beach. The walk would end with adult entertainment on the blanket out under the tropical stars.

Bill arrived in a rush and ordered a Martini as he sat down. Sandy asked, "How did your first day of the meeting go?'

Bill was flushed with excitement and babbled, "It was great. All of the big names are here. I met and chatted with people I only know from textbooks and by reputation." For five minutes Bill chattered on while Sandy nodded and smiled indulgently at her husband's unbridled enthusiasm.

Finally, Bill asked, "So how was your day? Did you and Marta play tennis?"

"We certainly did, and we won our match. I was a little rusty to start but was pretty much back in the groove after the first set. That Marta is good. Do you know much about her?"

Bill shook his head, "No, not really. Met her at the office a few times. She's maybe ten years older than we are. She must be twenty years younger than Henry though. Definitely a trophy wife. Tall, good looking woman."

Sandy, snorted, "No kidding. She's beautiful. Do you know her background?"

"No. She's from overseas somewhere. I know Henry dotes on her, and she is the linchpin of their social life. That's about it."

"She's Norman French. Her height, blonde hair, and striking blue eyes probably come from Viking raiders plundering, raping, and colonizing the Norman coast in the Dark Ages. Henry met her in Paris twenty-two years ago. She was one of the Doriss dance girls at the Moulin Rouge Cabaret."

"You mean those half-naked gals with all of the feathers and boas and the like in Paris?"

"Yeah, them. You really gotta be really good to dance there."

"Wow, well she certainly has the looks and stature to be an exotic dancer. Are you ready for another Martini?"

Sandy laughed, "They are not strippers, you backwoods hick. They are very skilled professional dancers - just with a lot of feminine charm to show off. And yes, I am ready. Let's share a dozen oysters as an appetizer too."

The oysters and fresh Martinis arrived quickly. The mellow couple put in an order for grilled red snapper with French Creole sauce, a spinach salad, and a bottle of white Burgundy as they started on the oysters and Martinis.

Bill smacked his lips, "Oh, these oysters are perfect. What did you do after tennis? Hang out with Marta?"

"Yeah, she definitely has taken me under wing. She treats me like I am her little sister. A very interesting women with decidedly very French views on life. She certainly gave me some things to think about. After tennis we went to the spa and had an hour long massage."

"Really. I have never had a massage; have you? How was it?"

"No, never." Sandy sighed and murmured, "Oh, it was heavenly, absolutely divine."

Bill cocked his head inquisitively, "I always wondered; what do you wear for a massage?"

Sandy's cheeks pinked slightly, "Uhm, Marta is very European about these things. We were naked."

"Naked?"

"Yeah, naked. You are covered under a sheet and all, and they only expose a bit of you at a time for the massage. They are discrete about maintaining your privacy. It works."

"Male?"

"Yes Dear." Sandy smiled teasingly at Bill, "He had hot, oily, strong hands too. The effect is quite relaxing and sensual. They don't touch anything inappropriate, but oh yes, it is very sexy."

Sandy laughed gayly at Bill's nonplussed expression, "While we are here, we are going to get you a massage from a female masseuse. Marta and I have booked massages every day right after tennis."

"Oh, I don't know that I'm ready for a massage from a girl without my clothes on. Did you make it up to the pool?"

"Yep. Marta and I had lunch there. She introduced me to Singapore Slings. Absolutely great rum drink. I'm addicted. Marta said she developed a taste for them at the Raffles Bar when Henry was doing some work in Singapore. She claims only the British know how to drink in the tropics. We gossiped a lot and sunbathed some."

Sandy paused thoughtfully for a moment looking at Bill, gave a slight shake of her head, and mumbled "not yet" to herself. Then she continued reciting her day's activities, "Later I had a nap, showered, and read a trashy novel out on our balcony with a glass of wine. Then I got ready for dinner. It was a fun day."

Bill waggled his eye brows and flicked an imaginary cigar ash ala Grouch Marx as he whispered huskily, "And yes my dear, did, did you really ... you know, flash those magnificent boobs of yours for the world to see?"

Sandy laughed at Bill's antics, but a hot blush rose in her cheeks. She gazed steadily at her husband while answering, "Uhm, I think there was a translation error on the hotel web page. The pool is not topless; it is clothing optional."

Bill blinked his eyes in surprise, "You mean it is a nudie pool. People lay around there with no clothes on?"

"Yep, that is what I mean. You don't have to, of course, but you can. This is a very popular resort with German, French, Italian, and Spanish tourists. It is their custom. It is mostly women at the pool; a lot are wives of your meeting attendees. There are some good looking women in that group. About a third lounge around in their birthday suits."

Bill blew out a breath. "Whew. Well, what did you do?"

Sandy kept her gaze on Bill smiling sexily, "Oh, I stripped right down naked in front of God and everybody. And I enjoyed every minute of it!"

Then she laughed, "I was a little nervous and started out topless. Marta laughed at me and said that I was being was silly. She pointed out that I would still have tan lines from my bikini bottoms so I should just take them off too. Nobody cares at the pool. So off they came."

Bill shook his head and teased, "I guess I better get up to that pool and keep an eye on my wild wife and her new best friend."

Sandy gave Bill her best Southern pout and drawled in a smoky voice that dripped sugar, "Whael Honey, you all have golf scheduled for Wednesday and Friday afternoons. You can come right on up to the bar and have lunch while you watch your naked wife bask in the sun. I notice quite a few men pretending not to be watching us naked ladies from the bar."

Dinner arrived. The couple enjoyed their delectable dinner and Sandy's planned post-dinner adult entertainment on the beach.

WEDNESDAY MIDDAY

Bill slipped out of his meeting early. Today everyone had eschewed their traditional business suits for golfing attire in preparation for the afternoon outing. He hurried up to the poolside bar on the annex roof with some trepidation. After all, he was accepting Sandy's invitation to come watch his wife lay out naked in public. He was still perplexed by this behavior of hers - somewhat excited and aroused and somewhat abashed.

The covered bar was spacious with open sides and a dozen tables and seating at the bar for patrons. Ceiling fans stirred the air making it a comfortable oasis in the tropical heat. The views of the beach and surrounding hills were spectacular. One side abutted the pool area which offered its own striking scenery.

Bill took a table on the outside poolside edge of the bar and ordered a local beer and a club sandwich from the bartender. There were just two men at the bar drinking beer and a table with three men enjoying sandwiches and beer together.

As Bill sipped his beer, he examined the pool area. Sandy had been right; the poolside crowd was mainly a collection of trophy wives (or perhaps mistresses). He recognized a number of them from the icebreaker. There were about twenty women and no men. One woman was industriously swimming laps. Two young mothers were playing with toddlers in the pool. The rest of the women were sunbathing or sitting at umbrella covered tables gabbing or reading. Four naked women sunbathed on lounge chairs and one other sunbather was topless.

"Well, at least, Sandy won't be the only one in her birthday suit," Bill muttered under his breath.

There were also a number of barefoot male pool attendants in white shorts and bright tropical shirts. They were industriously taking and delivering drink and food orders, providing towels and sunscreen, moving tables and chairs, and generally making sure the pampered guests were content.

There was no sign of Sandy or Marta.

Bill called Sandy's cell phone. She answered on the first ring with a bubbly "Hi, there, Hubby. I am on the way; just getting on the elevator."

Bill teased, "I thought you had lost your nerve."

"Not a chance. You ready to get an eyeful?"

Bill replied uncertainly, "I think so."

He heard her giggle as she clicked off.

Bill watched his wife exit the elevator and confidently stride toward the bar. It might not be accurate to say she was the most beautiful woman in this delightful crowd of femininity, but she would certainly be in the running. Sandy was barefoot and wore dark sunglasses and a diaphanous, white coverup. Any observer could easily see the outline of Sandy's shapely figure underneath and a shadow of her dark, skimpy bikini.