Part 5: A Group Session?
We arrived back at the house, with our new basket still unopened. I think we both had feared it. Why? Cindy was our new best friend, the women I would share my husband with. There was no need to fear her. I still felt scared. Chris took the lead, he slowly pulled the red bow, waiting for a snake to jump out, I think. As the bow gently fell on the counter he pulled the gold velvet down, revealing a basket that was so full, I think two baskets could have been filled.
We both sat down on the bar stools, looking at our new treasure. The top of the basket had a book entitled,
Café Aphrodite Drink Bible
, I anxiously flipped through the pages looking at all the recipes. Most of the drinks contained known aphrodisiacs, for example: The Snowballer contained vodka, clear rum, coconut milk, clear vanilla extract, cinnamon and clove. Cinnamon and clove are both known aphrodisiacs. There were over two-hundred drinks in this book; this was worth its weight in gold.
Below the book were four bottles of Café Aphrodite massage oils; each was 12 fluid ounces. They were wrapped together with a purple bow. Next to them were more of the bottles of lube, except instead of the original seven there were eight. We were not familiar with the orange-colored one. Unfortunately, we were too tired to try to experiment tonight with it tonight. Next to the lubes was a six-inch narrow vibrator with a slightly bent end. There were the same gold-toned leg and hand chair cuffs, lined with crushed black velvet.
At the very bottom of the basket was a three-inch long, four-inch high and two-inch round present wrapped in black wrapping paper with iridescent snakes imprinted on the paper. I took it out of the basket and slowly took the paper off. Inside were three vials and a note. The note read, 'These are the vials of Inhibition (blue), Arousal (red) and Pleasure (green). Please use with care. Only a little drop on the lip and your partner is willingly yours.'
Café Aphrodite, looking back on it, made me want to explore that place more. Except instead of a patron, I'd rather investigate it from the inside. I think it was a little beyond the normal. Or was it all a placebo? Maybe everything they gave you was really nothing more than colored sugar water, which had no effect other than your mind was given a reason to explore your inner fantasies.
Maybe, that was the reason why I liked it; my mind was freed from my own standards of socially acceptable behavior. With that thought, I was emotionally and physically drained. It was 2 in the morning when we finally collapsed on the bed.
******
We were rudely awoken at 7 by the noise of police and fire sirens and a helicopter. We ran to the window to see what the commotion was. Outside on our beach the scraper tractor was submerged in the water on its side. We both quickly got dressed and ran down to the beach. The young man that was driving the tractor apparently had gotten a little too close to the water. The sand under the tractor tires was soft and could not support the weight of the tractor and flopped over. Roy, the tractor operator, was unhurt, just very shaken. The police were taking names half laughing to themselves at the comical scene before them. High tide was coming in, which was submerging the tractor more with each passing minute.
I have to admit seeing a rather large green John Deere tractor with its large wheel on one side the only thing visible is very comical. We were all standing there, the ten or so police officers, fifteen firefighters, and seven neighbors just standing there laughing. There was no way any mechanical apparatus could make its way onto the beach with high-tide. They were going to have to wait three to four hours for the ocean to recede before they could right their wayward John Deere.
As the firemen left to go respond to another call—they were smart and parked on the road—most of the police left saying there was nothing they could do. Poor Roy was in shock. We invited him up to our house for a cup of coffee and some dry clothes, along with the policeman that had to stay on the scene.
So there we all were: Roy, in a pair of Chris' sweat shorts and a shirt that was two sizes too big for him; the Police officer, Vince; my husband and myself; all sitting at the kitchen bar watching the ocean totally submerge the tractor. I made a fresh pot of coffee while Chris ran into town to get some pastries and donuts for everyone, sitting there all making small talk, waiting for the sweet goodies to arrive. The basket from the night before was sitting on the back counter, Vince spotted it, although the contents were discreetly hidden under the gold velvet wrapping. He asked casually if we had a good time. I nicely said we had a great time, which we really did. I did not see the need to explain to him that last night was already our second time there.
Roy spoke up, the first time I think I actually spoke in this whole ordeal, saying he had never been there and he was wondering what it was like. Vince, thankfully, tried to explain that it is dinner and explicit sexual show geared towards adventurous adult couples. From the way Vince explained it, I was under the impression that he and his wife were regular customers. I asked Vince out of pure curiosity, how many times he had been there. He explained to all of us, Chris was now back from the bakery, that he and his partner—he was gay—enjoyed the Voyeurism and Renaissance Rooms two to three times a month.
Not that I was one to judge, but I asked him on a police salary, how could he afford a place like that? The answer was simple: locals were given a discount. When the place first opened, many of the locals tried to have it shut down, even though it brought in more tourism dollars than the beach ever could have. By offering discounts, they won local allies, acceptance...and occasionally, new employees.
We had been sitting there and talking for about two hours when Cindy showed up. She was wearing a very tight, white tank top with no bra, and a pair of short cut-offs that accentuated her tanned legs. She carried with her a small tote bag. As she knocked on the back door, she was surprised to see Vince and Roy sitting there drinking coffee and eating almond croissants. She asked what was going on, and Vince explained to her how Roy went swimming with his tractor, pointing to the tire that was starting to become visible again.
