by Sean Geist
By the time I was out of the shower, Lauren was fully dressed in a pair of peach shorts with a matching bikini top and a cream colored shirt with only the last two buttons done. Her hair was damp, which really accented the curls.
“I'll meet you down at the buffet.” Lauren slipped on a pair of flip-flops while I ran a towel over my body. “You were great last night. Best sex we've had in a while.”
I opened my mouth to say something, I wasn't sure what, but my wife saved me from embarrassing myself by planting a quick kiss on my mouth.
“Maybe ever.” She whispered into my ear. “Hurry down.”
The door slammed shut behind her.
I was left standing there, my mouth open, yet dry as sand. Her sharp words left me gutted and bleeding. I'm sure she thought she was complimenting me, but the effect was the opposite. Best sex ever and I hadn't given it to her. Yes, I did allow it to happen. I set it up, but it wasn't the same.
I was quickly regretting what I had done. The arousal I got from watching my wife fuck another man was not worth the pain I felt, not even close. I had lied to my wife, deceived her. Add to that, the knowledge I wasn't fully able to satisfy my wife as well as my brother; I couldn't blame the size of his dick, he's my twin after all. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to hold down breakfast.
The vigorous fucking my wife received the previous night had left her famished. Her plate was piled high with bacon and sausage, scrambled eggs, a couple slices of tomato and a buttery croissant.
I had simply spooned a little cottage cheese on my plate and grabbed a slice of fresh pineapple before sitting down.
“That all? You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Just not hungry.”
“I'd thought you'd need to recharge after last night.”
She wasn't going to stop rubbing that in was she?
“Guess not.”
I didn't say much else as I ate. By the time I finished what little I had put on my plate I realized I was hungry after all and I went back for more.
While I ate my second helping, Lauren kept giving me looks. I couldn't read her thoughts and every time I'd get ready to say something, she'd open her mouth, but instead of saying something she took another bite of food.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Okay. Last night. The sex. It was.” She stopped talking and looked out the window, into the distant horizon.
“It was, what?”
“It was like you were a different person.”
If she only knew. “How so?”
“You've never been so – rough.”
“Did I hurt you? If so, I'm so sorry. I—”
“No. Don't apologize. It was great.” Lauren took a bite of her eggs. “It might not be something we want to do all the time, but, you know, maybe every now and again. Playing hard can be fun.”
I wondered if I'd ever be able to treat my wife as rough as my brother did. Even though she liked it, I wasn't sure it was something I could get into.
Talking about the awesome sex we had the previous night was animating Lauren, like she'd found a neat new toy and couldn't stop talking about it.
“Actually, there was something else I had been meaning to ask you.” My wife's usually pale face started turning a deep rosy pink. “How about we try – something else.”
Was she going to say she'd be up to letting me watch her fuck another guy?
“Something we've never done before.”
Wouldn't that be ironic.
Lauren pulled a small paper bag out of her pocket and passed it to me under the table.
“I thought about pulling this out last night, but everything happened so fast.”
I opened the bag and started to take out the tube that was inside. It felt like it might be toothpaste; not the travel size, but a step up from that.
“Not here!”
I looked into the bag. It was a tube of personal lubricant, like for sex. I looked up at my wife, the shock clearly registered on my face.
“Thought tonight. We could try some.” Lauren's voice, already soft went lower still. She leaned over the table and whispered. “Butt stuff.”
Yes, that was something we'd never tried. I'd never tried. It wasn't something I'd asked for and was rejected. It just never got brought up.
“Really?”
“I thought, we're on vacation. Why not try something new?”
“And if you don't like it? If I don't like it?”
“Then we never have to do it again. Doesn't hurt to try it.”
“It might.”
Lauren threw her napkin at me. “Be gentle and it'll be okay.” She sounded like an expert, although I knew she wasn't. Or at least I thought I did.
“Where'd you get the lube?”
“Bought it before we left for the trip. Packed away with my panties.”
Any apprehension I'd been feeling was melting away. My wife was obviously enjoying her vacation, our vacation, and was eager to expand our sexual experiences. Maybe I could learn to be more aggressive in bed. If she liked anal and I was good at it we could add that to our repertoire. We might also try playing with ropes or a light spanking. There were books we could get.
I leaned across the table.
“Lauren.” My voice was so low, my wife had to lean closer, herself, to hear. “I would love to fuck you in the ass.”
My wife pulled back, giggling. “Such a gentleman.”
I tucked the lube into my pocket and went back to my breakfast.
I was becoming aroused. The feelings of regret were being replaced by excitement. Thoughts of tying my wife up and teasing her nipples with a feather quickly filled my head.
“What are you grinning at buster?”
“Just thinking about you. And me. And what we could be doing.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“But—”
“Time and place.”
“But you brought it up.”
“Doesn't matter.”
And I couldn't argue with her, so I decided to change the subject. “So what are the plans for today?”
“Did you want to check out the beach?”
“Sure.”
“The desk man said the best time is around ten o'clock.”
“So we got a couple hours.”
“I'm getting a massage first.”
“Fine.”
After breakfast, we returned to the room. Lauren lucked out and the spa had an opening for a deep tissue massage at eight thirty. I grabbed my Lee Child novel and a beer and went out to read on the balcony.
As soon as I heard the door close behind my wife I ran back inside and knocked on the lock-out door.
“You there?”
It took a few minutes, but eventually Richard opened the door. His hair was disheveled and he was naked except for a sheet he had wrapped around his waist.
“What?”
“I need to know.”
“Know what?”
There is no easy way to ask your brother if he'd had a vasectomy, but then again, there's no easy way to ask your brother to fuck your wife, and I'd done that.
“Have you been snipped?”
“What?”
“Have you had a vasectomy?”
“Why would I?”
“Because you fuck around a lot.”
“I use condoms.”
“You didn't last night.”
“I'm pretty sure your wife is clean.”
“Yeah, but.”
My brother's sleep-addled brain was starting to wake up. “Wait. You mean? Lauren isn't on the pill?”
“No. I've been snipped.”
“I assumed she was. You didn't mention protection.”
“We don't need it.”
“You didn't give this much thought, did you bro?”
“I let my dick do my thinking.”
“Don't worry about it. Even if she gets pregnant, we share DNA. No one will know
the kid's not yours.”
I shoved Richard back into his room. His arms swung wide to avoid falling over. He dropped the sheet. “Lauren will know.”
“Don't get mad at me. I was doing this for you.”
“Sorry. I'm just really pissed. At myself mostly.”
“You were planning on telling Lauren about last night, right?”
“Eventually.”
“You better tell her soon.”
“When we get home. I don't want to spoil her vacation.”
“It's your life, man.”
“You're leaving tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. Got a car picking me up at noon.”
“And you'll stay in the room 'til then. I don't need you running into Lauren when we're out.”
“Whatever, bro. I won't spoil your fun.”
“Thanks.”
“Just wish the hotel had decent cable. Most everything's in Spanish.”
I wanted to thank Richard for his help in pulling off my scheme, even if it had gone off the rails, but instead I just apologized again for pushing him.
“Hope it was worth it for you.” Richard closed the door and I went back out on the balcony to read my book, though my mind wasn't really following the words I was reading.
Thinking back on the night before, I had extremely mixed feelings. On a visceral level, I enjoyed watching my wife get fucked. It was erotic as hell and the memories will stay with me for a long time.
I was also feeling deep guilt for tricking Lauren into taking part in my fantasy and I was dreading the confrontation that lay ahead. I was going to have to tell her about the switch, and I didn't think she was going to like it – neither the deception, nor exposing her to the risk of pregnancy. I never planned for that and now I was going to have to divulge my duplicity.
I thought about keeping my mouth shut and hoping for the best, but quickly pushed that idea aside. There was too much to lose. I was determined to swallow my misgivings and tell her everything – once we got home. Lauren's vacation wasn't going to be ruined because of something I did.
While I was lost in thought, a blue and white bird landed on the railing. It cocked its head and shook the feathers on its prominent crest. It eyed me wearily, looking down at my cup of coffee, maybe expecting to find a stray piece of muffin, or a garnish to snatch up. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was the same bird who stole my orange wedge yesterday morning by the pool.
“See you got a friend.” My wife stepped out through the sliding door. She looked awesome, every muscle relaxed and loose. Her face glowed. I wished I felt as wonderful as she looked. “Make that two.”
Another bird had landed next to the first.
“What did that guy call them? Maybirds or magpies, or something.”
“They're white-throated magpie-jays. I googled it this morning.”
Whatever did we do before we could carry the world of information in our cell phones?
“So how was the spa?”
“She got to every muscle. I've never felt better.”
“Better than last night?” I don't know why I said it. Maybe I was hoping she'd down play just how good my brother made her feel. She didn't.
“Okay, I take that back. Last night was definitely better.”
I felt my soul contract.
Since we didn't have food our feathery friends quickly lost interest and flew away. I felt my self-confidence alight off with them.
“And tonight,” Lauren gave me a sly look, “...will be even better.”
At least I had that to look forward to. I thought back to the lube and the promise that provided. I had to adjust myself.
Lauren snickered. “One track mind.” My wife quickly disrobed, but not to fool around, as I was hoping. Instead she jumped into the shower to rinse off the sweat and oils from her massage.
I changed into a pair of green and blue swim trunks and my swimming shirt. Then I packed our bag for a few hours of sitting on the beach: sunscreen, a couple of towels, several bottles of water and a few other items.
When I was satisfied I had everything we needed I turned back to the bathroom to see if my wife was done.
She looked radiant, having slipped into her swimsuit – a simple dark blue skin-tight one-piece that hugged her sleek form, accentuating every curve. The suit didn't expose an inordinate amount of skin, but the hint of what lay beneath the lycra fabric was painfully enticing.
Lauren walked over and gave me a peck on the cheek. “You really need to stop getting hard every time you look at me. People will think I'm withholding sex.”
“Ha.”
“No, seriously. That looks like it hurts.”
“You could always help me take care of it.” I was kinda joking, but a quick blow job would have been wonderful.
“Oh, I would, sweetheart, but we're wasting prime beach time.”
“Fine.” I pouted.
Lauren gave me a blank stare.
We held it for about ten seconds before we both started laughing. It felt good to let go, to release all the pent up emotion that had been eating away my insides. Trouble lay in the future, but for the next few days we were happy in paradise.
I grabbed the bag and Lauren grabbed the watertight box that held our room key and IDs and we headed out.
We were walking past the pool when my wife asked if I had packed the camera.
“Shit. I forgot.”
“Could you run and get it? I want to take some pictures”
“Sure thing.” I took one of our keys and hurried back up to the room.
I didn't remember seeing the camera out the past two days. It wasn't on any of the tables. I checked all the drawers of the nightstand – nothing but a room service menu. I checked the clothes drawer – nada. It wasn't in our luggage. I looked on the shelf in the closet and in the room safe. Nothing and nothing.
I went to the window, intending to call down to Lauren and ask her where the camera was. I opened the curtains, pulled open the sliding glass door and stepped out.
The action that was playing out at the pool below caused me to throw myself back into the room. Did I really see that? I took another look.
Standing next to my wife was Richard and he was handing her the camera. What the fuck? He was in a similar colored swimsuit, but the shirt he was wearing was a simple polo shirt, not even close to the one I was wearing. And he had the fucking camera. He must have swiped it while we were at breakfast.
Did he really think Lauren wouldn't see right through him? They exchanged a few words. How did he know? My mind reeled.
My wife took the camera and stowed it away in our beach bag, then to my utter shock she kissed him on the lips and they headed off to the beach, her arm wrapped around his waist. She jumped as my brother playfully slapped her ass. She started tickling him. He kissed her. She kissed back and my stomach heaved. The betrayal stung.
It appeared my brother had put as much thought into his double cross as I had put into my original scheme.
My wife frolicking, playing with another man was supposed to be fun, supposed to get me off. I was aroused, but also hurt. What could I do? Run down to the beach and confront my brother in front of my wife. That would expose the ruse and create a scene I had no control over.
My other option was to stay hidden and wait for a better time to swap places again, with Richard. I was going to rip him a new one when they got back.
My impotent rage boiled over as I watched the happy, playful, loving couple slip around one of the hedges on the path down to the beach.
I threw myself onto our bed, face first. What had I gotten myself into? My wife-watching fetish had blinded me to just how stupid my scheme was. It took my plan careening out of control for the foolishness to become apparent. Tricking my wife into sleeping with my twin brother was a horrendous idea and I was paying the price for my duplicity.
And my deceitful brother was taking advantage of the situation, taking advantage of my weakness. Taking advantage of Lauren's ignoran
ce.
Suddenly pure jealousy swept through me. Not the playful teasing, the watching my wife have a good time without me teasing. No this was pure glowing green radioactive jealousy that could destroy my relationship with my brother and maybe even my marriage.
I started seething. I wondered how long Richard had wanted to fuck my wife. How long had he waited for his chance? All the playful glances, all the stray touches, the innuendos I had put off as harmless banter flooded my memory.
Richard hid his desire well. He gave no hint of his eagerness when I first asked him to swap places with me for what I thought was one night. One night of watching my wife have sex with another man and I would have it out of my system and I could get on with my life and my marriage to a wonderful, sexy lady who I adored.
No hint at all.
In fact, I remembered he acted shocked, like he wasn't too keen to do it. He said he didn't want to lie to Lauren. He didn't want to insult me by sleeping with my wife. Oh what a liar he was.
I got up and poured myself one of the free beers the resort kept stocked in the room's mini-fridge. It was bland, but cold and it went down fast. I popped a second and drank it straight out of the can.
I found myself needing more booze, so I headed out to one of the bars in the main building. I should have been keeping an eye out for my wife and brother, but in my frazzled state I didn't really think about it.
I asked the bartender for a shot of his cheapest whiskey. I drank what he poured and nearly choked.
The bartender laughed. “You asked for the cheapest. You want a Johnny Walker Black?”
“Please.” The second shot went down much smoother. I chased it with another local beer.
“Not spending time with the wife?”
I didn't feel like being chatty, but I didn't want to sit in my room, moping. “She's at the spa.”
I took my beer and walked over to one of the couches against the wall, and moped there instead.
Two shots of whiskey became four and I looked at my watch. Not even noon and I was already trashed.
A few people started wandering into the bar – the lunch crowd and late risers. Until then, I had the place to myself, save for the bartender who realized I didn't want to talk.
