The Willow Switch

Day 7 of 10

We woke in Belize the next morning with only three more nights to go on the cruise. I lay next to my beautiful sleeping bride and thought those nights seemed to hold danger. I watched the rays shining in through the skylight and they seemed to bring clarity. A dark fantasy didn't seem very enticing in the light of day, and Willow's Switch of partners from the night before was flogging my ego with shame. I quickly discarded the decision I'd made in the heat of the moment.

I was ready to discard Brock as well. He had some bully in him and I wasn't interested in being bullied. Fighting was not abhorrent to me, and I'd been in several, but only if pushed. I didn't want to give him the opportunity to push. Maybe his intrepid aggression toward me was the pen that drew the Jace Line.

My real bully was my own dark fantasy, and it had muscled me from dream to reality last night. Aside from fighting the control center between my own legs, there was another factor in my decision to renege on my decision to let Brock fuck my wife again. That factor was my wife Willow, and I wasn't sure if she would agree that the Willow Line was in the same place as the Jace Line.

Last night made it apparent that the control center between her legs aligned perfectly with mine, and that dark, twisted, perversion dwelt deep inside each of us. She'd loved acting out my dark fantasy, and my intent to abort the decision we'd made while we were both teetering on the edge of bliss was not exclusively mine to make.

That point was amplified by her wake-up reminder, "Are you ok honey?"

"Yeah hon. I think we got a little carried away, but it was what we both wanted."

"Brock said he'd call today. Is that okay?"

"Let's let it cool for a while. Text him that we're thinking about yesterday and we need some time."

"We do need to talk. I think we both found out things about each other that we didn't know."

We not only found out things about each other, we each searched our own depths to discover things about ourselves that had been previously smothered by society. It was a soul-baring that we should have had at least a year earlier, and while we both admitted to worry about the long-term danger, we also both admitted how exciting her illicit tryst had been. A switch to an exciting new lover for Willow was a Willow Switch that lashed us both into exquisite pleasure and excruciating pain from the guilt to our twisted libidos.

We both agreed that Willow's exhibitionism triggered that deepest canto of the id in each of us. We also agreed that we wanted that to continue regardless of whether it led to more or not.

That 'more or not' was the crux, and the wet blanket I covered it with was my disclosure that I tried to find her so I could keep her from letting Brock take her to his room. My jealousy was real, and she seemed to understand and believe it was a game ender. Her jealousy flame burned even brighter than mine, so she agreed that we shouldn't try to stretch the jealousy limit any more.

No more Brock.

We didn't even discuss our heat-of-the-moment joint decision to let Brock have her again, this time without protection. It was too outrageous to even think about in the light of day. We spent the day talking as we shopped and snacked in Belize City, and we laughed at ourselves, agreeing that our jealousy meters were probably set in the too sensitive range.

I proved that the part of the dark fantasy we both still wanted to keep alive was thriving when I bought the sexiest, unlined white thong bikini I'd ever seen. She didn't even try on either part but I was pretty sure it would fit. We both loved her willingness to display, and her exposure of that beautiful bare skin was not even a blip on the jealousy radar screen for me.

It was a big blinking blip on the arousal radar screen.

I wondered, "What do you think everybody will see when you come out of the pool?"

I was stiffening and she noticed. She smiled and her hug and shimmy against my stiffening led me to believe that her mind was grazing the same pasture. She smiled and answered my question with one of her own, "What do you want them to see?"

I hunched and she shimmied, "Everything."

"Me too."

I couldn't stop thinking about the 'more or not' for the rest of the day, and I didn't need to ask to know my wife was plucking her thoughts from the same deep, dark, fantasy grotto.

That night, at dinner, it was time to pay the piper. All five couples were seated when I looked toward William and Joey.

"You saw Willow with Brock last night and I want you all to know that she wasn't cheating. I knew she was with him, and in fact I suggested it. We met him on our scuba trip yesterday and they hit it off right away. I saw she was interested and it was obvious he was. I love my beautiful bride and I want the best for her. Last night, the best was Brock."

Joey, always the brave one in her marriage, asked, "It looked like they were on a date. You're ok with that?"

"They were. I saw their attraction. I set it up and encouraged her to let go."

Joey again, "She did that. You know what they did in front of everybody, right?"

She clearly wanted me to confirm it to our other tablemates. I didn't know if she'd already brought it up, so I decided to be fully transparent, "I think so. Willow said they kissed and his hands touched her everywhere."

She had a touch of snide, "They did. I can vouch. So did hers."

"She was doing what I asked her to do Joey."

Obvious sarcasm this time, "She was wearing her wedding ring, but he didn't have one."

"He's not married."

More piling on, "That's what we thought. You're ok with letting your wife date an unmarried man?"

"I told you. I suggested it."

A sneer first, "You're awfully brave."

"So you see why she was attracted?"

"Hell yeah. He's a big hunk of real man."

Her husband, William, "Joey!"

Joey smiled at her husband, "Just looking honey, like you always tell me."

William looked embarrassed, "Okay baby."

Joey focused her sarcastic attack back toward me, "I suppose you think you're just being understanding and considerate Jace."

I corrected, "She wasn't with him because I'm considerate Joey. I'm sure you guessed, but it's more for me. What started on the dance floor didn't end there. He brought her back to our room at 1:30."

I couldn't have been clearer if I just said he fucked my wife.

That brought both more sarcasm and a Snidely Whiplash smile from Joey, "This afternoon?"

I smiled in understanding. It really wasn't that outrageous a question considering what they already knew, "No, in the morning. She enjoyed it very much."

She intended it as an insult, "And you?"

"Mixed. My jealousy is pretty hard to fight Joey, but it did arouse me too. That's why she was with him."

The attack continued, "On your honeymoon. Great way to start your marriage Jace."

"I'm not sure why you think this is your business Joey, but I'm pretty sure nobody assigned you as the judge on this case."

Joey didn't respond, so it was a pregnant pause before Talia did. Her tone was more respectful, "Will you let her be with him again?"

"Probably not Talia. My jealousy is hard to control, but Brock wants to be with her again and ..." I paused to look at my bride, "... Willow wants it too."

She hadn't said so, but I knew it. The deepest part of my dark fantasy was oozing back out, and I think my words seeped into Willow's own. Everybody else looked at my bride too, and there was an even longer pause where nobody spoke.

Finally, "I liked it. ... a lot."

I thought we had served transparency well, and I refused to answer any more questions about it. I knew where my wife's thoughts were and we each had a couple of glasses of wine at dinner that did nothing to settle those dark fantasy dreams.

We went back to our suite and polished off an entire bottle of Merlot while sitting on our balcony watching the setting sun. I gently teased her choice bits while we sat on the love seat in view of the empty Observation Deck above.

Willow was ready as she reminded me, "Today is the most likely honey. Let's go inside and make a baby."

It was twilight, and she was responding to my hands and tongue when my fantasy crept back in. I took her top off and felt her nipples stiffen more at the thought of being seen.

It wasn't long after that when she was naked in the dusk on our exposed balcony, and she was ready to let me take her right there. I looked toward the Observation Deck, the only place with a view of our balcony, and didn't see anyone. It was nearly dark and that seemed to parallel my dark fantasy. I was thinking about Brock again, so despite being rock hard with my bride, who was anxious for more, I didn't follow up.

Willow coaxed, "C;mon Jace, I'm ready."

I'm an idiot, "Later, let's go dancing first."

She knew my darkness had emerged, and she was on board.

She smiled, "Pick what I should wear."

I was deep into it, and handed her another of her new, sheer bra and panty sets and her short, translucent, flower-print, button up the front sundress. I told myself that I really didn't have Brock in mind, but I did want to see her dance with others while she was already in an aroused state and while wearing something that would jack up her arousal even more. That something would also jack up mine and probably any other heterosexual man's.

Even without our fantasies, I think she would have agreed to my suggestion. I can't remember even one refusal of that suggestion in the more than two years we've been dating, and that's because Willow loves dancing.

I admit that I've never suggested it when she was naked and ready to romp, but I believe she might have agreed even without the prospect of Brock in her head. She likes dancing almost as much as fucking. Sometimes more. Willow is a superb dancer and I'm not. Whenever we go, I only dance about half the time because she is snagged by the good dancers for the rest.

I didn't want to go to the same place she'd been the night before with Brock, so it was 9:15 when we ended up in "On The Briny", a smaller, darker lounge playing mainly big-band swing and classic rock from a juke box.

Three hours and at least five martinis later we had tripped the light many times and Willow had danced twice with other older men who probed for interest. We were both far beyond half way to martini-ville oblivion, and I was hard, dancing tight, when she looked in my eyes and spoke what my eyes reflected,

"You're thinking about last night, aren't you?"

I bumped hard, "Aren't you?"

"It's hard to not think about it."

"I thought about you with him all day."

"Me too. Especially when you bought that almost-there bikini."

"You were thinking of him seeing you wear it?"

She blushed before answering, "I was thinking of wearing it for him, on the beach with him"

"On a date?"

An embarrassed, "Yes."

"When it's wet?"

"It's unlined honey. It won't hide anything then."

"He'll like that, right?"

"Yes, he likes to let others see me Jace."

"You liked it when I showed you off."

A nod, "Mmm hmm."

"You liked it even more when he did."

A blushing nod.

"You liked letting other people watch him feel you up."

"Ooohh honey ..."

"You want me to let him fuck you again, don't you?"

Her blush deepened as she moaned, "Mmmm ... mmmmm ... please."

My hands dropped to her ass and I pulled her tight against the traitor in my pants. She pulled my head in for a needy French kiss.

The traitor was in charge, and as we 'danced' its dominance grew. My beautiful wife was clearly in the mood to submit to dominance again. She was hunching as I grabbed sneaky feels of her tits, and I'm sure I could have taken her back to our suite and she would have come while we tried to make a baby, but I didn't.

I love her and she'd just admitted what she really wanted. He was better than I at providing her more pleasure. I don't know if her mind was also thinking about the thrill of pregnancy-risk sex, but mine was overwhelmed by that promise I'd made to her last night.

I'm sure the next words from my mouth had nothing to do with brain function, "Let's go back to the table so I can text him."

I sat beside her and she handed me her phone, assuming I would use it just as I had last night. And as he had. She watched over my shoulder.

I'm in 'On The Briny' with my husband wondering what you're doing. If you aren't too busy, stop by. We're in a booth and the seat next to me is empty.

I didn't ask her if I should push send, and my alcohol abetted dark fantasy sent it without her permission. I moved to the booth seat on the other side of the table.

It was half-past midnight, ten minutes after her invitation, when Brock walked in. He must have cat eyes because he saw her immediately in the dark room and was seated next to her in our booth within seconds.

He reached across the table to shake my hand, "Hi Jace. You ok?"

I was conflicted, but that wasn't his business, "Yeah, fine."

He bent over and kissed my bride. It wasn't just a peck and I watched his tongue enter her mouth, but then he stopped to look in her eyes, "And how's my girlfriend?"

She smiled at him, "I'm fine Brock."

The waitress arrived, and he took charge, "They'll each have another and I'll have a double. Macallan, neat. Stateroom 864."

And so it began, right before my eyes. Even before the drinks arrived, they were dancing. I had to agree with Willow. He was a great dancer, but that wasn't what held my eyes. Before In the Mood ended, Willow had her arms around his neck and they were French kissing, both clearly 'in the mood'. Two of the men sitting at the bar had already danced with her and they knew she was married to me, not to the man kissing her.

The drinks were on the table when they returned. He slid in first, and he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

He looked at me as he spoke, "I had some of those photos from yesterday enlarged and printed Jace. I'd like to bring them by tomorrow to show you. Maybe take some more. Photography is a hobby."

I hated myself. I was still rock hard and my dark fantasy was taking over. Alcohol was a co-culprit, but it was mainly the control center below my belt that spoke, "I just bought a new bikini for Willow. I'd love to have some photos of her in it. I don't think it will hide much."

Willow's eyes widened in a questioning way, and I nodded. She snuggled up tighter and smiled, this time looking up at her boyfriend.

Brock's boldness again. He returned her look, "I'd like to have some more photos of her out of it."

Damn me. The drinks were removing all inhibition barriers as I sunk deeper into my dark fantasy, "We both would, and she'll do that if I ask. Right, honey?"

She looked up at her boyfriend again, "I promised to love, honor, and obey my husband, so if he asks, I have to do it."

"So that means you'll ask, right Jace?"

He knew I wanted to see it too, "Tomorrow morning."

"How's the lighting there?"

"It's a suite and I think it's good. A skylight and a sliding glass door."

"You have a balcony, right?

"Yeah, a nice one." Then my mouth spoke without consulting my brain, "And you already know about the corridor right outside our room. This time, there might be college boys watching."

He knew then that I knew everything about last night, and that I was encouraging him. Who was he to inspect any part of the gift horse?

He raised, "Your beautiful wife enjoyed dancing without underwear last night. Do you mind if my girlfriend dances with me like that again?"

She was wearing a sundress that you could see through if the light was behind it. It wasn't particularly low-cut on top, but it was mini-skirt length.

I saw his raise, and my own upped the stakes even more, "Take them off in the bathroom honey, but leave a couple buttons undone for your boyfriend."

She wasn't sure what I was offering and neither was I. A boyfriend/girlfriend relationship is more than just physical.

"You'll let me have a boyfriend Jace?"

Brock answered for her, "He just recognizes what is already there Willow." He held her purse as she reached for it, "Just bring them back and lay them out on the table. I want everybody to know you're naked underneath your dress."

As she stood, I knew my beautiful bride was under the spell of another man, and I wondered if I was too. I was so hard I ached with each throb, and his next words exacerbated my condition.

He was smug, "Your wife loved being with me last night Jace. My girlfriend must have come seven or eight times."

What he said was new. I thought I'd heard the entire confession, but not if what he said was true. Seven or eight? I'd never been able to give her more than two orgasms. Maybe she did have something to hide, and that was a worry, but it was also a bump to my dark fantasy because I wanted her to fully enjoy her new boyfriend.

I didn't say anything, but his use of 'your wife' and 'my girlfriend' was a repeat of an earlier comment and obvious bullying. I finished my martini in one big gulp. I needed it. I briefly wondered if I should hit him up beside his head and if I did, would it have enough force to knock his smugness out. That fantasy died as soon as I had it, but there was something I wanted even more than to knock out his smug condescension,. I wanted his braggadocio to knock my own abetting condition out, to make me an unwilling partner in his dominance of my wife.

Unfortunately, I think it did the opposite, and the rigidity still throbbed in my alcohol abetted dark fantasy. My head wanted him to stop, but it wasn't in control. What was wanted more.

Willow returned with two buttons unbuttoned from the top and with her balled up bra and panties in her hand. She put the wad on the table, but that wasn't enough for Brock.

"I specifically said to lay them out, so spread them out. I want to see if they are as sexy as the ones you wore last night."

It was some of the 'more' my darkness wanted, and she practically covered the table with spread out sheer enticement. When she finished, Brock picked up her panties and held them up before bringing them to his nose for a strong sniff. The stool fools at the bar and the bartender definitely noticed. She was still standing and watching as he spread them out again on the table.

"Come sit, drink your martini."

He patted the bench seat next to him. He polished his drink off and then held her drink to her lips and tipped it all in, I think she was still swallowing when he started kissing my wife again.

Their active lips were no more than two feet from my eyes, and I could easily see tongues also entwining. I watched for several minutes while they made out like they were teenagers in the back seat of a car. They were animated and they were unashamed of the sounds they each made.

I moved to the end of my seat and I could see Willow's leg sticking out into the aisle. As I hoped, her mini-dress kept sliding higher and higher, and her dress finally revealed the endzone before he stopped kissing to whisper in her ear. He sat back to watch, and we both saw her reach to unbutton another button. She looked at him, and his nod was the order to proceed.

The waitress came back while she was unbuttoning. A sly smile and a point at the empty glasses indicated that she was aware of the events unfolding, but the unfolders were too preoccupied to care. I just circled my hands over the empties to indicate we wanted another round.

I looked to see who else was watching. There were still two couples, in booths on the opposite wall, but none directly across from ours. There were three men seated at the bar, including the two men Willow danced with earlier, and they had already seen the endzone from their stools. And there was the bartender and there was our waitress. Including me, that made 10 focused observers.