23 year-old Gary Thompson had been honeymooning on a tropical island for six days when just after breakfast his bride Veronica smirked: "I've been reading some kinky stuff in that book I bought at the airport, and I've started to wonder what it would be like to tie you up. What do you think?"
He laughed innocently, but as they'd had sex at least twice every day for nearly a week, happily agreed to Veronica's suggestion that they "try something "a bit different" in case it was that or nothing. His new wife was way too attractive for him to refuse her anything, and if she wanted to have sex with him, in whatever way she wanted, then he already knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life saying either "yes" or "yes please".
He undressed, lay on the bed, stretched out like a large X and got incredibly aroused as his wife used both pieces of two bikinis to tie his wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed. And then, just as his erection throbbed to full size without even being touched, she nodded towards the balcony, laughed and said: "It's too nice out there do anything just now, so I'm going to go lie in the sun for a bit. I'll keep reading my book until I've decided what to do when I get back, and you can get all excited wondering what that's going to be."
Gary started to protest, but all that did was make Veronica laugh even louder. She'd tied her husband up fully intending to see what it would feel like to tease and torment Gary before fucking him, but that could wait. She'd spent two days about it, and had decided that most fun thing, would be to tie up her new husband, watch him get excited, and then spend a few hours laughing in the sunshine about leaving him like that.
Veronica kissed her husband on the head, joked "don't go anywhere, I'll be back at lunchtime," and wearing nothing except sandals and a blue bikini even skimpier than the ones she'd used to restrain him, practically skipped out of the hotel room.
Gary Thompson spent thirty minutes staring up at the ceiling fan wondering why his wife hadn't at least turned on the TV, when he heard the bedroom door unlock. He glanced up to see two maids in white one-piece tunic-dresses peer in, heard them both gasp, watched the door close, sighed with relief that they hadn't entered the room, and then felt his heart stop as the door opened again.
Two women in their forties, dark-skinned, dark-haired, slightly overweight, dressed identically in one-piece white tunic dresses and soft white shoes giggled as they dragged in a wheeled linen basket, followed by a trolley piled high with cleen sheets and fresh towels. They closed the door behind them, and stood next to the bed talking in a language he didn't understand. He tried asking to be untied, but they didn't reply, and even though he didn't speak a word of any language other than English, Gary Thompson started to sweat with the realisation that the maids were talking about him.
He had no idea why they hadn't been embarrassed at finding him like that - surely it can't have been something they were used to? - and simply relocked the door as if nothing had happened, or maybe covered his naked body with a sheet while they cleaned the room. He shook his arms and asked to be untied, but they didn't respond, just stood at the side of the bed alternately looking down at him, then to each other, and discussing something in a language he didn't understand.
Gary looked up helplessly as the women grinned at each other, nodded and then walked to the balcony window behind his head. He instinctively looked round to see them both peering through the half-open blind at the pool three floors below as the oldest woman pointed through the wooden slats and said, "Missy Thompson."
Gary Thompson's sweated nervously at seeing his sunbathing wife identified, but didn't know why, and neither woman answered his question. They just sniggered, walked back to the bed and started to rub their hands over him. "Nice", said one of the women, "Missy Thompson lucky lady." The women squeezed the muscles in his thighs, ran their fingers in the definitions of his abdomen, stroked his pectorals, laughed and as he stiffened, grinned at how much their touches had aroused him. "Very nice," said the other woman as she nodded at his erection, "Missy Thompson lucky lady."
The maids then had a brief conversation Gary didn't understand, after which the younger of the two women walked to the window and peered through the blinds as the other one stood at the side of the bed. He asked her again to untie him, but she shook her head, put a finger to his lips, said "Shh", very slowly walked around the bed, and tugged at the knots in the bikinis. For a brief second he thought she was checking to see which of the knots to undo first, and then realised that he hadn't done anything of the sort: she'd pulled all four of the bikini restraints tight. He tried to ask what she was doing and why, but the maid didn't answer just smiled as she unfastened the buttons down the front of her white one-piece tunic dress. She shrugged it off, folded it over a chair, stepped out of her white soft shoes, thumbed her little white panties down her not-so-little coffee-coloured thighs, and wearing nothing but a white bra, lifted a leg over him, and knelt over his knees.