A Borrowed Wife, The Covid Camper Ch. 08

... Simply put, our spontaneous lovemaking on the morning of hubby's official acceptance was off the charts magnificent, so apparently another generous gift of sorts from my stranded hubby, possibly intended to make this easy on me, or should I say on us. Yes, there would be obvious details to be sorted out, but full submission to this new reality, therefore no intentional conflict to aggravate such discussions, his goals in life utterly consistent; to do his very best by me every day of his life, in a selfless demonstration of devotion and love that few could emulate.

A fair part of that magnificent lovemaking was obviously Ken's doing, he's a skilled lover that knows my body well, and with this knowledge he took me almost all the way "there" time and again while staring into my eyes lovingly; until of course he permitted me to have my eventual epic big O. It was maddening being held down so firmly, struggling like that under his powerful teasing body, but simply incredible all at the same time when I finally went over the top. I'm talking about my vision narrowing and nearly blacking out, like a near medical emergency, all while tremoring and howling like I was a teen again in the backseat of my future husband's car. Yes, hubby used to rock my world like that himself, sometimes by going down on me until I was "orgasm-drunk" and left babbling incoherently. It's like it was his goal back then to make every time with me a "best-ever," which was obviously impossible, but such was his devotion then as well. So in short, hubby's devotion was the constant, the variable in this little human calculation was how it was to be delivered going forward...

Then there was Ken's subtle attitude shift, from a "friend's with benefits" more playful posture, to one of ownership and possession, for lack of better terms. I'd told him several times over our long and circuitous history not to ask, to just do, but with hubby properly accounted for it seemed more naturally intuitive for him to do so now; literally nobody was in his way. So my conclusion was that this was obviously quite different this time for Ken as well, different and better, and it's not lost on me either that Ken as well is trying to make every love-making event a best ever himself. But to be clear, nothing is really evil here, it's just one man's natural superiority in working my body, as if playing a fine musical instrument better than the original owner ever could...

So at the very start of this proposed adventure I actually considered myself a "borrowed wife," perhaps some could argue foolishly so. But this has since turned into something much more than that, at some point hubby was really pushing to give even more, and feeling that vibe myself I took more as well. Ken has been asked to up his own game too, so he's taking more as well, his attitude is one of entitlement now, which is quite far from where we started a few weeks earlier with him. One could also argue that such loving "seeds" could only flourish so rapidly in the perfect fertile environment, but hubby had played his part in building that too. So overall I think it's fair to say that the feeling this time, both specifically here, and one-on-one alone with Ken was different, deeper, more emotionally connected. I already loved Ken at the start of all this, but I felt myself falling in love with him now, although to explain that distinction with words on a page is difficult.

In the strictest form of the word, you "borrowed" something with permission, something you also intended to give back, but I think Ken and I are past any pretense of giving back now, at least any time in the near future. Hubby offered, (some may argue foolishly so) and Ken took that offer, it would be hard to blame Ken here, most especially in his present otherwise bleak situation. In my mind there's simply nothing to be blamed for anyway, hubby by his own words is good with this kind of physical sharing, and he's wise enough to realize that my love for Ken can't help but to bloom in such fertile conditions. If you take the emotional turmoil out of it, Ken's simply making use of something hubby no longer does, so the height of practicality...

That being said I obviously still love hubby, but I was no longer making love to him, sharing that intense physical link, that specific emotional bond that binds two souls as one. There's still a closeness though, he's still important, but he just doesn't check that lover-box for me any longer. It's so much to work out in one's mind, to the point that I feel as if there are two of me within this single conflicted body, fighting for control over each other; the loving hubby-wife version vs the now-entitled Ken-version. That being said though, I still believe there's enough room in my heart for more than one man, it's just that both can't occupy the exact same parts at the exact same time; and the lover part of my heart already has a new paying tenant now, one that's already moved in and comfortable.

So fair to say it was a bit more firmly Ken and I from that day on, the lost, or more accurately "discarded" keys both symbolic, and suggestive of a singular likely future; no matter any future medical resolutions. I was Ken's, and he was exclusively mine for the rest of this honeymoon-like vacation of ours. A honeymoon purchased by my actual husband, to eventually be used by another man to romance me away from him; yup, no irony there at all. If hubby had planned it, he could't have planned it any better, assuming his true objectives were parallel to Ken's and my own. Fair to say that hubby wasn't the least bit unintelligent, so this assumes this specific outcome is one he wished for as well, or at the very least anticipated.

There would be no "official" divorce and remarriage to awkwardly explain away to friends and family this way either, (we were both adamant on that) so more of a "soft" change in status for my husband that really started incrementally over a year earlier. So barely perceptible from the outside of our relationship, and therefore no public humiliation, and no wealth to divide either. Six months from now one man would likely be living as if my actual husband, and the other as something a bit less that that, but still close-by in my life, still both serving and loved. So a new address and new living arrangements too, (Ken was right about that part) on the surface it's all so easy. Soft words, smiles, playful loving banter, all of that was still possible with both men under such conditions, it's just that one man would be sharing my bed and a bigger piece of my heart; and the other would still share my legal last name, so a very big chip of sorts left on the table should this game with Ken go south at some later date.

On that subject, Ken simply didn't maintain romantic relationships long term, it was a well established habit of his since his teens; this was therefore a wise insurance policy for myself, as I didn't want to be old and alone myself one day either. I kind of wish I had thought all this up myself, but the gentle loving hand of hubby was felt here as well, nudging Ken and I together, maybe in a way topping from the bottom. Hubby's easy conflict-less submission to Ken replacing him in my bed would secure his place in my life forever, and should it become necessary in the distant future, when either Ken or I got sick of this "marriage-less marriage" arrangement, hubby would still be there...

So my mind is obviously all over the place here, attempting to provide structure and order to the chaos that's going on in the background for me. However, back in our hubby paid-for room, Ken and I have made all the love we can by this point as it's nearly noon, a dozen "I love yous" sincerely shared, softly and lovingly. But the close snuggling, (while rather magnificent all on it's own) that needs to end so I can get a shower. Ken needs one too, and there are other things to do down here in paradise in the few days we have left, besides making love; funny that such a thought should pop into my head at this late point in the game though...

I've been properly sated once again, my love for Ken as well on full and sincere display, but this allows my mind to function a bit more logically, seeing Ken's few deficiencies in this new light. It's not that Ken is one dimensional, a one trick pony, it's just that this kind of loving physical intimacy has been missing in his life too, and now that he finally has it he's apparently not letting go, either physically by holding me tight in the literal moment, or in any other way...

So Ken maybe has to learn some new "husband" tricks going forward though, to broadened his appeal for me. I hadn't noticed this myself until I'd spent this kind of one-on-one time with him, but honeymoons are like that I suppose. So for a second, and hopefully last time in my life, it's like I'm constructing a second custom-fit man, polishing the rough edges so he was as comfortable as possible to be around. So this obviously isn't a straight up passive character trait on my part, but at this age I both know what I want, and what I don't want too. I also have to be careful here, I already have one custom-fit passive man in my life, and I'm mindful of the errors in that path I took myself. So not a repeat, a carbon-copy duplication of a man, I hardly need a second exactly like the first, and really Ken doesn't do passive all that well either, and the conflict in that would eventually become ugly.

So, here I'm more thinking of the things that settled husbands and wives do that don't involve sex; as Ken has the intimacy thing pretty much all worked out already. He's also a friend though, we're already social with each other, so bridging this minor gap from good friend to something quasi-spousal should be easy, but old dogs and new tricks and all of that. Then of course is the established fact that Ken doesn't do marriage well, or really any long-term romantic relationships, something to tweak a bit if I'm to keep him for the duration myself. In my mind I give it somewhere between five and seven years; if I can't improve what others have discarded.

Such deep ponderances aside we eventually find ourselves dressed vacation-nice, and we head down to the front desk. We're looking for some lunch suggestions, as we've pretty much made love right through the normal breakfast hours, but truthfully there are worse ways to spend a lazy morning in bed with a new, old man. Really that's not fair, he's pretty much the same man I've known forever, just with a new role to grow into himself.

Cathy and Henry are at the desk looking for a lunch suggestion themselves, perhaps fate (or something else) bringing us together. There is no hiding that a great deal has already happened this morning between Ken and I, both in bed, which they may be perceptive enough to realize, and of course my lifted burden with hubby pretty much officially giving me away to Ken, all with his perceived blessing.

We decide on the fly to do a foursome for lunch, Henry looking tan and good himself, and Cathy simply couldn't look bad in anything even if she worked at it. So sun dresses and sandals for us, and shorts and golf shirts for the boys. Now to be fair, Ken was a managing tradesman that still worked with his hands, and he therefore fills his shirt out like Henry never could, like hubby couldn't either though. He's truthfully a gentle giant of a man, but gentle by choice, not necessity.

This is more like "it" to me, like what normal couples do socially all the time, and the conversations are natural too, other than that our new friends don't seem to be pushing for details on our relationship. "Did they figure out that there were some secrets here best left unsaid? Perhaps maybe realizing that their selected 'pet' name was for no animal?" I wondered.

So seated at this little sushi-bar Cathy tells me she envies my courage, as in my skinny-dip adventure on the public beach, telling me she and Henry swim in the buff all the time in her pool, in private though. "I'm forming a naughty little picture in my mind with those words, wondering if Henry has tan lines himself, wondering what it might be like to get sunburn on that particular appendage." Chemistry with young Henry just isn't there for me at all though, I'm hardly in the market with Ken there filling that void for me too, but a woman can still look and appreciate the human form. That being said, Cathy says she wishes she had the courage to do that a bit more publicly herself, on the clothing optional beach, but down here where pretty much nobody knows her.

I tell her she looks fabulous, that if I looked like her I'd do it. Ken's ever so slightly nodding his head in agreeance, but so was Henry, so it wasn't exactly pervy of Ken, as I'm pretty sure he'd like to appreciate her human form as well, if given the chance. Now that "I'd do it" part is stretching the truth a bit, because when I was around her age myself I had a fleeting desire to dance in a strip club on amateur night, as a dare, pretty much getting middle aged men excited by perving on college aged girls stripping down to a G-string on stage, and then likely going home to their wives and girlfriends to have some fun. This was also back before viagra was a thing too though. It was purported to be very good money for very little actual "work." Truth be told it would have been a huge turn-on for me even without the money, but I didn't have the courage, nor the bodily confidence either. So in the big scheme of things that was a bit of a regret, and maybe deep down I want to prevent Cathy from having any similar regrets like these herself when she's my age.

Ken for his part is playing it very cool, but I know him, and he'd be lying if he said that seeing hard-body Cathy in her skin wouldn't do something for him. Now Henry, he's trying to play it cool too, and I've already decided that he's a proper gentleman, but Ken did slip and tell me that Henry playfully offered to bring my suit to me when I was stranded out in the water the other morning, to which Cathy purportedly gave him a look as if to say "I'll bet you would!"

The pair had a laugh over that, but in the end, by Ken's own account, he decided to bring my suit out to me himself, as he thought my toleration might be getting stretched a bit thin by his naughty prank; which he'd be correct in assuming by the way. Now I don't know that I'd be jazzed up about Ken getting all naked with Cathy there, nor really myself either, in my case for easy bodily comparison to this very fit twenty-five year old hard-body; not to mention something about that feels very wrong. Although hypocritically I wouldn't mind Henry in the buff at all, I could so look at that all day long! Henry was actually built a bit like hubby was back in the day, (so another touchstone to my youth) and trust me, hubby was quite the package back then; not ever as muscular as Ken was, but nice to look at... and obviously nice to play with too. Great legs, hubby's always had great legs.

So Cathy is half-asking here, but in such a way that I can easily say no. I get the feeling that Cathy hasn't had to deal with a great many "nos" in life, but just look at her! It's also a nice potential little mental detour from my conflicted hubby-thoughts though, (and Henry's similar body type is kind of distracting too) and to be honest, on the nude beach with hard-body Cathy nearby it's almost like nobody would be looking at me anyway. Sunning down low on the beach, or swimming? I suppose it makes all the difference, as in walking the gauntlet all the way to the water, swimming for a bit with the other nude bathers, male and female, and then coming back out again and finding Ken and Henry, doing it that way would be so much more exposure. All those eyes taking us in, and here I was apprehensive about wearing a conservative bikini just the other day, one that hubby could wear somewhat convincingly himself, if of course he kept his little device tucked. So in my mind more evidence of how much has changed in a little over a week of all Ken, all the time.

"Is Ken very good for me, or a bad influence?" Time will tell I suppose, but to be fair here Ken and I, together, are a naturally mischievous pair...

So it's assumed by me that the three have discussed this already, and the only real time for such would have been when I was distractedly nude and trapped in the water, and that makes this a bit of a conspiracy. If hubby were here instead he'd want me to decide, or he'd deduce what I really wanted to do and form an argument for said action. And if it went wrong, he'd take the blame.

"It's something to ponder a bit deeper, when I have more time for such" I tell myself.

Ken's here in hubby's place though, and I want something different than what I've had in the past, so I want Ken to "man-up" and tell me what to do here, not in every circumstance to be sure, but in this particular case to give me mental cover if it doesn't turn out well. Here's where I want to do Ken's bidding, because deep down I'd like to have this off my bucket list, to be "made" to do it though, almost like him stealing my bikini earlier, as in no choices here we go...

... Wrap your belt around my wrists and bind me to the bed, or even hold me down and take your manly liberties while I mock struggle; no choices there either, so the well established pattern should be obvious to Ken, as in make me do the things you know I want to anyway...

I look at Ken, he looks at me, but he needs words to really know what I want, although he gets points for looking, and for caring too. So not a hubby-level connection, yet, but there's plenty of time to work on that part, it's a long-term relationship that I'm after here, not a summer fling. Hubby and I grew into the loving relationship we have over time; so it doesn't happen in a day for anybody, it takes work to both create it, and maintain it.

"More things to ponder when I have a bit of down-time."

"Make me do it" I tell Ken softly with a naughty smile, living in the vacation-mindset moment, suppressing those nagging deeper thoughts about my sequestered husband. Both Cathy and Henry are looking on with raised eyebrows, learning something about our unique dynamic perhaps. Ken is alpha, and I've just reminded our friends of this, that I maybe appreciate this aspect of his character in an instinctive base way, that it has it's place in a loving relationship. So if Cathy or Henry somehow thought we were equals, perhaps this tells her that there are also times when we're not, that this works for us. Now her natural assumption here is likely that this has worked for us "forever," where the reality is that we're working out some of those relationship details ourselves, in real-time right before their eyes.

"Okay" Ken tells me.

"When?" I ask with same smile. It feels good to have this decided for me, and in my mind I think hubby might be feeling something similar himself. At times hubby requires a firm hand himself, it's obviously liberating for him, and here as well I see the similarities in myself. A secondary consideration is I'm not hubby's high-maintenance problem any longer, I'm somebody else's.

Ken tells me "soon," and Cathy just looks so alive, like this actually is going to happen, like she wants to jump up and kiss Ken right there in the restaurant; so some very serious gratitude, all while Henry seems to be taking mental notes. This is Ken's master-class, domination 101, as in when it's appropriate, and when it's not. A one hundred percent dominant man, in every situation under the sun, is an ass, at least in my humble opinion. A properly balanced confident man has to be able to turn it on and off, dial it in precisely for any given situation. Yes, there will be mistakes made, nobody is perfect, to obviously include myself.

So after lunch Ken and Henry take a walk to presumably sort out the details, but they're being a tiny bit mysterious. Cathy and I do the same in a different direction, but our age differences might suggest I'd be the de facto lead, but it wasn't going like that. I found myself half a step behind Cathy when we walked, and I was reminded of the way hubby and I used to walk places together, as in I was always slightly in front; it was a "body-language" sign of respect and deference, and not just for me either. This forces me to ponder the way Ken and I walk, mostly side by side, unless there is a perceived threat, then he's in front like any man should be.

Cathy has a wealthy address though, and maybe I'm keying off of that, putting her ahead of me out of some perceived social construct. We're just talking, she tells me what she does for a "living" and I tell her what Ken and I do, so all truths. Where "we" live was shared next, (so a half-truth there) and the obligatory "we should get together after we're back home and settled" vague invites that may or may not happen. She then drops her bomb and tells me she'd love to meet Rose, and I feel the color drain away from my face. Cathy picks right up on this, giggling in a very playful way, smiling that perfect smile of her's, telling me she's not quite as innocent as she appears. "Girl next door... with a whip!" I tell myself mirthlessly.

"Or have I already met Rose?" she inquires lightly while looking directly into my eyes. It's all a game, this young woman a bit more than she appears, maybe just like I was back in the day myself while somehow balancing hubby, and an occasional, between-girlfriends needy-Ken as well, all with hubby's permission though. Hubby got off on that back in the day, although maybe that was just having something others desired, maybe even a nuanced taunt of his best friend Ken, as in she's mine, but you can borrow her if you like.

"Oh, what would sweet Cathy think of all that?" I wondered. Or for that matter, "what would she think if she knew 'Rose' was hubby's new alter-ego 'maid's-name' that she had so casually selected for us on the plane?"

"No, Rose is back home yet" I manage to respond, but the social damage is done, perceptive Cathy knows there is some hidden "truth" here now; that my response suggests that this was no dog's name. I also fear she has a very curious mind much like my own, as in mysteries are like unfinished puzzles, they simply must be sorted out so the final picture can be accurately seen.

"See those men over there checking you out" I whisper to my new friend, as a needed distraction. They actually are, but I also realize that it's likely something she's used too as well, Cathy's quite pretty, in a "girl next door" kind of way. Not dressed flashy, I'm actually showing more skin that she is, but it would be hard to hide that body of her's in anything short of a parka.

"They're looking at both of us" Cathy opines most charitably.

"My Henry thinks you're the bomb by the way" she adds with a giggle a moment later, seizing on the opening to share something potentially awkward, adding that he means that as a sincere compliment a moment later.

I tell her honestly that Henry reminds me of my husband at that age, but that was a whoopsie, as Ken obviously never looked like Henry does, two completely different body types. It's a spontaneous truth that I should have kept to myself, but I was a little off balance by her dual revelations a few seconds earlier. Cathy graciously lets that one lay for a few moments, but I can see the wheels turning in her head. Cathy is seriously intelligent, I mean like high IQ scholarship intelligent, and for a second reason I feel a bit lacking in her company. So the whole package, looks and brains, no wonder she's confident!

This is not how I thought our little "get to know you better" walk would go, Cathy just full of surprises. Perhaps a bit of wealth-prejudice on my end though, as I've only ever interacted with but a few very wealthy people, and never like this. I then ask bluntly if Henry thinks I'm Rose too, and Cathy playfully tells me they have a little wager on this very subject.

I ask what the bet is, and her response is to smile, so I assume it's a good one either way; for me sometimes losing these kinds of intimate bets is almost as much fun as winning them. "Oh to be that young again; but only if I could go back in time with my mature brain, and a somewhat stable hormonal balance too."

So the boys and us meet up, they apparently working out some of the details between themselves for this nearly last event before we have to pack up and fly back home. In my case to a bit of an unknown, despite the overt positive attitude from my displaced hubby. "He's good with it," I tell myself irrationally, or so his attitude suggests, so something anticipated, and maybe not as collateral damage either.

"Hubby isn't really losing me, and certainly not losing me to an intruder, a hostile competitor, he's just giving up some of his husbandly privileges, ones he doesn't happen to use himself anymore" I console myself. My logic may be a bit challenging here, but it is convenient...

I also appreciate the distraction that this "event" offers, and this late in our stay if somebody from the hotel somehow sees me in all my naked-glory on the nude beach, I'll only have to interact with them for another day or so this way. It's also charming that both men have formed a bit of a bond during their brief time together, but to be fair Ken has a wealthy uncle, so he's used to being around people of means, even borrowing some of his uncle's material possessions back in the day, to be shared with yours truly for naughty-fun alone-time opportunities.

The boys have a plan though, and weather permitting tomorrow will be the day, but the details are apparently being kept hush. So while I asked for this, quite literally, it's still unsettling all at the same time, and this maybe gives me something else in common with hubby, who has asked for unique unsettling things himself.

I text hubby in the morning, telling him that we'll be seeing him tomorrow afternoon sometime if all goes well, that I had fun down here with Ken, but that I miss him too. I also tell him, by way of a warning, that tomorrow we might not be able to text each other, and he's good with that, appreciates the heads-up. He asks what we're doing on our last full day on the island, perhaps living vicariously through our antics one last time, bearing in mind his other rather limited options for entertainment. But he's entitled to this and more, for his generosity, for the easy way he's handled this "situation," for lack of a better term. He could have guilt-tripped both of us to death here, ruined a once in a lifetime vacation, but he didn't do any that with his "others before self" mindset. Truthfully he loves both Ken and I, knows we collectively have needs that only we can satisfy for each other; it's his exact role in this new life that's the challenge.

So without asking about his own plans I excitedly tell hubby about the nude beach dare, that I dared Ken to make it happen for both me, and our new friend Cathy as well, that I'll tell him all about it when I see him. No pictures though, the signs on the beach are a bit firm on that, but perhaps there's a way to sneak some without appearing too pervy. I also realize a bit belatedly that this is something I'd never do for hubby, although the mental image of hubby walking such a beach wearing just his little chastity device makes me smile. As a general rule though I don't like public humiliation, so this is a curious random thought to pop into my head, although it's in line with what I saw with my own two eyes when we dumped hubby off at the camper nearly two weeks earlier.

So hubby and I say our goodbyes like pretty much every other morning on vacation down here, wondering what tomorrow afternoon will be like, once of course we're face to face again at the camper; awkward and socially uncomfortable, or joyfully greeting my spouse after some time apart? It's been his solo home away from home for the past two weeks, but away from me as well. I'm truthfully not thinking all that much about hubby though, that's a tomorrow kind of problem. I'm more focused on this nude beach dare, wondering if I'll have the courage myself once on the beach, or if Ken will actually have to make me do it, like I suggested he might.

So in preparation I get into the shower and ensure my grooming is perfect, which in my "Ken-preferred" state is bald and smooth; where a bit of ala-natural might hide my womanly charms a bit more. Ken's left me hanging a bit too with his aggressive lovemaking, so while this is also somewhat natural for a sexually active woman my age, it hints at the extent of activities that I've enjoyed down here with Ken. So at the very least this suggests that I'm not exactly going without, pretty much while hubby's been going without himself, save for one single non-erect wet dream...

I have a flowy beach dress on and my string bikini on under that, the dress is somewhat transparent, but instead of "underwear," somebody really looking hard might be treated to seeing peeks of my bikini, which they'd see anyway if they followed me to the beach. With Ken up and showered, (and sporting one hell of a mischievous smile) we make our way down to the front desk, where we see Henry and and Cathy waiting. She's wearing her one piece, and a light sundress over it, so we're similarly attired. The men are wearing shorts and Hawaiian shirts, so the advantage goes to the men here as far as universal clothing is concerned.

Our friends have apparently been waiting for a few minutes, and Cathy silently beckons me over to a locked glass case in the lobby with her hand, it's the hotel's lost and found. They've both been studying that case with little to do while waiting on us, Ken most certainly not a morning kind of man. We now have each other's numbers, and in all fairness Ken did text Henry to tell him we were running late, and also that he was the cause of that, so maybe channeling a bit of hubby in taking the blame.

There is a man's wedding band in the case, a big man by the size of the ring, an ordinary Timex watch, an older looking cellphone with a bulged out case that probably has little chance of ever working again, plus some other items. Henry is standing next to Ken now and the two are having their own private conversation, so the hotel clerk takes the time to tell us that they do a metal detector sweep of the beaches and water every few days, for the guests benefit in case something valuable is lost. There's even a live camera feed of the case online, where guests can check the case once they're home to see if something they've lost on vacation was found.

I tell Cathy that somebody's going to be missing that ring, to which she shares that some poor guy will REALLY be missing "that," pointing out a very familiar "holy-trainer" barrel style key, with a bit of dental floss still attached to it as well. Her tone tells me she obviously knows what this is, innocent Cathy not so innocent at all. Maybe my face gives it away, maybe something else, but somehow Cathy knows that I know something about this particular key.

"Lose something, Rose?" Cathy asks playfully at just above a whisper, forcing me to stare at her perfect mouth and lips while forming the very words, so I could more easily lipread her. Perhaps she thinks she finally has the puzzle properly constructed in her mind; her smug "cat that ate the canary" smile surely suggests such.

"What was the dare?" I ask softly, for her ears only. It's an offered quid pro quo if she takes it, something for something. Socially I'm trying to get a bit on the same level with rather perfect Cathy, despite her waved hand a few moments earlier, calling me to her like I was her maid. She just has this superior attitude that reminds me of my own more "working-class" roots. It's more my problem than her's though, as is having a younger woman in any position over me. I like to submit to Ken where it's appropriate, even one or two other worthy men over the last twenty years or so, but generally not to women at all; I'm funny like that.

"If you're Rose, and you actually do this beach thing with me, when I get out of the water I'm going to sit my naked ass right on Ken's lap, and give him my first ever lap-dance, right in front of Henry; if of course you'll let me."

"And if I don't come?" I ask, realizing that this a two part thing in her mind, while also wondering if Henry knows about Cathy's intentions for Ken.

"Then I suppose Henry gets my lap-dance instead, but really if you don't go I don't think I'll go either, so no pressure or anything, Rose," she tells me with a fair bit of playful sarcasm.

She further tells me that the thought of grinding on an "older" man like Ken is insanely hot, that it'll drive Henry out of his fricken mind to be forced to sit there and watch her tease the crap out of Ken. So while wondering in the back of my mind what I'll be doing while she grinds on my Ken, maybe even with the misconception that Ken is wearing that device himself, I ask if Henry generally likes to watch. She tells me she doesn't know yet, and here's my opening to share something myself, should I wish to take it.

I tell her it's a deal, IF she lets me give Henry one too, something for something, an even trade. I still don't know what Henry was supposed to "win," Cathy is being a bit vague on that part.

By way of explaining myself I tell her again that Henry reminds me of my husband when he was that age himself, to which she scoffs. She points out the obvious, that Henry's like one-forty soaking wet, and Ken has a good fifty pounds of mostly muscle on him. If I were a jealous woman I'd wonder at that deep observation, as to how much and how often she's been thinking about my Ken, and his twice-her-age muscular body.

"No lie, body-wise your Henry looks like my husband did back in the day, thin and fit. But Ken, well, even back in high school he was muscular, although not quite so muscular as he is now. I've known Ken since then too, he and my husband go way back together, they're best friends since childhood, they share pretty much everything," I tell an astonished Cathy. So channeling a bit of Cathy here, I've told her, without actually telling her.

"So Ken..."

"... isn't my husband, but hubby's alive and well, and also knows we're here together." I finishing her sentence for her.

"So, ah..."

"To put it directly, Ken's recently divorced, second time too, so he borrowed me for this little trip so I could cheer him up, and no, that key you saw isn't Ken's, but hubby's, to keep him out of mischief while I'm down here with Ken being a very naughty wife. Truth be told, I've recently decided that I'm keeping Ken after this little honeymoon too, so to make it official with hubby I tossed that key in the water purposely, Ken even made a video that he sent to hubby."

"And here I thought your skinny-dipping was bold" Cathy tells me with no small amount of admiration. Of the two of us, age-wise, you might think I would be the more reserved one, but as I've said, this entire Ken-thing is like my own personal raging-hormones fountain of youth. There's just something about being in a foreign land and very far from home that, for me, makes some serious mischief seem rational. And, sharing this with Cathy, in effect boasting with her, sharing what I'm getting away with, I think falls into that category.

So maybe Cathy and I are both a bit more than we appear, perhaps even kindred spirts from another time. She asks if I'm going to claim that key, but I tell her no, better to leave it there where hubby can see it on the webcam whenever he wants to. She gives a little evil laugh with that comment, it's most unbecoming on her "girl next door" pretty face. She doesn't know that the other key is out there somewhere too though, that both keys were "lost" symbolically in the same general area, trapping hubby's defective manhood just as symbolically. Cathy doesn't know that "defective" last part either, and I have no intention of sharing it, most especially if the two might end up meeting each other at some later date...

We decide that we'll have some time to talk a bit more privately on the way to the beach, as the front desk man was paying far too much attention to our conversation, or at least trying to. So we collectively decide it's time to get this show on the road; maybe it doesn't feel exactly like walking to one's own execution, but the butterflies are busy in my stomach. Hubby and I are very connected, and I wonder if he can feel what I'm feeling over a thousand miles away; I resigned to ask him when I see him again, see what exactly he was feeling at this exact hour.

So the guys are in front just having a wonderful conversation, (and sporting matching mirrored Ray-ban aviators that I'd never seen Ken wear before) bonding with not a care in the world, while forcing Cathy and myself to follow behind. They turn to show off their new glasses, looking like two Hollywood-type wannbes, but their attempt at humor falls flat on me. Cathy then sees the apprehension on my face, tells me not to worry, that she was a swimmer in college, on the swim team. "So she thinks I'm afraid of the water, that this is the issue here?" I wonder.

"So the same situation, but seen from two entirely different sets of eyes, and therefore a different conclusion for each as well," I tell myself. So, something else to ponder when I have a few quiet moments to myself, which I pretty much haven't had while down here with Ken 24/7...

We end up walking to the same suits-required beach Ken and I visited when we dumped hubby's keys into the ocean; returning to the scene of the crime one could say. Ken and Henry are walking side by side as equals, but Cathy's maybe a quarter of a pace in front of me, the message is clear; despite my age I'm the least of the four here. It's not my station at home obviously, but these are other "hubby-thoughts" that make me wonder what it's like to live as he does.

I think the guys have maybe made a mistake though, as this beach is getting busy, way too busy for any skinny-dip mischief, not to mention that the original offer was for the clothing optional beach. Cathy doesn't say a word when I give her my "what's going on?" look though, so she's either a bit better informed than I am here, or that tone-deaf. Truthfully Cathy doesn't give off the "I'm a dumbass" vibe at all, quite the opposite. So my assumption is she knows something I don't, not something to make one feel as an equal...

It gets stranger yet when Ken waves to the lifeguard, the same local man from the other day on the quad, but I find it odd that the lifeguard waves his walkie-talkie in response to Ken's wave, then points to a lone reserved chair on the beach with it. If Cathy knows more than I do here she's still keeping the secret though, but I'm definitely feeling out of the loop; so the subject of the conspiracy, and not a co-conspirator. I'm also reminded that the three did have some time together on this very beach, all while I was trapped out in the water last time.

The lifeguard's odd wave was apparently expected though, the feeling for me is "this is planned, business as usual," which makes me wonder what these two guys have cooked up. If I believed in conspiracies I'd think the lifeguard was even in on it too. So if nothing else somebody has paid attention to the details here, and I suppose it comes down to trust...

So the men lead the four of us to that single "reserved" lounge chair, and the guys peel off their shirts and I look at Cathy like, "okay I guess we're swimming here instead." It's not what I was expecting, and to be sure this beach is a bit more busy than when Ken stole my bikini on it the last time. So our beach dresses go on the chair too and the four of us make our way to the warm water, both guys each taking one of the two flotation cushions that had been left on that single chair as well.

I don't remember these from the last time, but to be fair I wasn't looking for them either with everything else we had going on that morning. They remind me of the floating seat cushions from our rowboat back when I was growing up, so a dual purpose kind of thing that reminds me of my "dual-purpose" hubby, so to cushion your bottom in the boat, and for lifesaving, if such became necessary.

Finally finding my voice I tell Ken that there's way too many people here to do this, and my tone suggests that I'm on the verge of backing out. It's one thing to do this on a nude beach, quite another here, where getting both caught and arrested was a real possibility; as was truly offending somebody. Public humiliation vs private pranks, so two different things in my mind.

Ken's a good man though, trusted, and even if he was using some atypical bad judgement here, I doubt that Henry would put his own bride in any serious peril himself. In short, Ken's being a bit of an evasive jerk here, kind of stringing me along, just like he sometimes does with our lovemaking, wanting me to have a big buildup, before the grand finally; all to get the glorious full experience.

At the same time I trust Ken with my life, I've ridden hundreds of miles on the back of his motorcycle, so I reluctantly submit to his will, tamping down my internal doubts, trusting that all this will be worth the payoff, that the details have been accounted for. Not that I don't also trust hubby with my life, but this take-charge man in my company was different enough from what I had become accustomed to at home that such episodes still apparently made me hesitate and question myself. So perhaps Ken wasn't the only one who needed a few relationship tweaks. I did also just recently promise "anything" back in our hubby paid-for room, not quite new wedding vows, but solemn words like these have obvious real-world consequences too.

We're splashing each other with the warm water, just trying to have fun while walking out to the deeper water, and away from families with little kids in the shallows. All three are trying to lighten my mood, working at it, so all of them are apparently picking up on my discomfort. This is supposed to be a fun dare, something naughty and adult, and of the four of us I'm the one about to ruin the proverbial party.

We're in nearly up to our chests at this point, and some of the other men are casually looking our way, or so I assume as it's hard to tell as they're all wearing mirrored sunglasses, just like our guys are; it's like part of the official beach-uniform down here. Not good for swimming, but great for looking I suppose. The lifeguard is looking too, or at least I think he is, so he's definitely in on this, whatever it is.

"So here's the deal..." Ken tells Cathy and I, all while Henry stands by his side, the mirrored sunglasses of both reflecting a miniature reflection of my upper body. "... The nude beach is less than a mile to the left, you ladies are going to swim to it, and we'll meet you there... maybe even with something to wear."

Both are smiling at us, but Cathy is smiling back, so she's very into this level of control. I feel her excitement, although I just know there's more; it's just too much build-up for a swim to another beach. Maybe she likes Ken being all dominant with her too, and in her case as well, with her own husband standing-by and passively letting it happen.

"You both could easily ride the cushions the whole way, but we may have arranged for a little surprise for you, but you'll just have to wait and see on that. The only thing left to do now is to get you both properly attired, so out of your suits, this way there can't be and second thoughts. So we've agreed a coin-toss will decide it, heads and Henry and I do the honors, tails and you girls strip each other while we watch" a smiling Ken tells Cathy and I.

Ken's like most other guys on the planet, to include my husband, as in anything girl-on-girl is a huge turn-on, like instant-woodie material. It's come up in conversations since he was a teen, so I know how this toss will end; perhaps Ken even finding a trick coin like Robert Redford's. So it may have taken a bit of time, but I'm finally there with my smiling new girlfriend, this is a hot little adventure either way for me now, just a final naughty little ordeal down here before we leave, all to thoughtfully distract me from any deeper thoughts about back-home hubby. So, this is Ken providing for me in a slightly different way as well, and I know I'll have to find some way to properly say thank you for that at some later date. It's also left a little vague is if it would be Henry or Ken pulling my actual strings, if the coin actually lands heads, but knowing Ken as I do I think that's unlikely...

Ken has taken the de facto alpha lead here, so he both flips and recovers the coin from under the four feet of water; it's tails, Cathy and I are doing the deed to each other. It's like the perfect weather to do this too, the planets in proper proverbial alignment, and all that's left is a bit of courage on our parts. I see in Cathy face that she'll do this even without me, she's that excited to be "forced" to do something like this. So I could theoretically still back-out, but that increases the risk factor for her too. I "need" a bit more coaxing though, or at least that's the mock position I'm thinking of assuming...

I take position behind Cathy, so both of us have our backs to the beach now, and our casual spectators; in my mind's eye the hot-body lifeguard is watching intently with his binoculars as well. He's a guy, and if my suspicions are correct, he knows what's coming. He's also up higher than the others in the water with us, so his viewing angle is better, by design.

I have my head on Cathy's shoulder, reminiscent of Ken's on my own on this very beach, doing just about the same to me as I intend to do to Cathy. I'm not making out with Cathy though, but full disclosure here, I've been with another woman once, on a dare; although men are my go-to preference. Ladies are tender, where men like Ken are takers, and many times that's just what I need.

So from this perspective I see both Cathy and I reflected in the boy's new sunglasses, and to make this special, for Ken at least, I intend to strip Cathy slowly, building tension in Ken just like he does for me a bit more privately. So, not to get too deep into the female psyche here or anything, but there is just this feeling when you realize that you have a man's attention like this, it makes me at least feel different, wanted as a woman, a single purpose sexual being; now to be fair this depends who's looking too. Looking as Cathy does I can't imagine it's a new feeling for her, but I can't discount what I see with my own eyes either.

I whisper in her ear loud enough to be heard over the natural sounds of the ocean, asking if she's ready to put on a show, and she just reverently nods her head yes, likely not wanting to spoil this erotic moment with any unnecessary words. "Has any man besides her own seen her like this before?" I wonder, based on her body language I'd have to say no. So she shrugs her muscular shoulders with her hands at her sides, and I take this as a "lets do this" from her, slipping the shoulder straps down in perfect symmetry. I move slowly, her boobs just like my own are just above the level of the moving water. As I get to her boobs I wiggle them free, inch by tantalizing inch, both boys mirrored-eyes glued to the erotic scene. She ever so slightly thrusts her chest forward to help her nips clear the top of her suit, they're at least a half inch erect and they snap to attention like my own can't.

My girlfriends back in the day, the ones a bit less endowed, almost always had very responsive nipples, not to be a perv or anything, but you can't miss something like this while showering together in the gang showers back in high school. Why, I don't know, maybe nature gives you something special when it doesn't give you something else. Anyway, Cathy has classical "wine-glass" boobs, maybe B cups max, with her erect nipples forming the glasses' stem. I get the feeling she's a bit self conscious about them, looking down as I teasingly revealed them, and not up at the staring boys; but they're proportional on her compact hard-body, and Ken's low "WOW!" I think pumps her ego a bit.

There's no tan lines on Cathy's rather perfect body either, so this skin has seen way more sun that mine ever has. Henry face looks like it's half pride, and half, "I can't believe we're fricken doing this," but it's almost too late for second thoughts now. I'm not thinking Henry has ever been cuckolded himself, that vibe just isn't there, but maybe just a tinge of that cuckold angst is. Maybe he's curious himself, or Cathy is, and this chance meeting with two "in the community" gives him an opportunity to explore a bit.

I have to get down low in the water to finish the job, and I wiggle it down over her firm core muscles, tempting this next big reveal for Ken. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and go under, stripping her blindly with my face inches from her womanhood, but I'm not offering anything here either. I come up with her suit triumphantly in my hands, the trophy acquired, and all three of us look like pervs down towards her freshly revealed girl parts, and the finely groomed thatch of hair cut to form the letter "H" for Henry.

So exclusively Henry's, and both Ken and I come to the conclusion that Henry is a very lucky young man.

Cathy reflexively reaches to cover herself with her hands, but my "don't you dare!" gives her brief pause. I'm having none of it, and I playfully toss her suit out of her reach and towards the beach, where others in the far distance can't help but to notice that somebody just lost her suit. Then I wrap her arms up behind her back and hold her on display for both boys for a few seconds, but she's not really fighting me; hell, with her strength I wouldn't have a chance. Both boys are clearly erect watching even this mock cat-fight, but I also know it's my turn now, and paybacks can be a bitch; I'm actually counting on such.

I whisper in her ear that I expect no mercy, and she just smiles that evil smile of hers, asking the guys if they want to help her. They obviously do, in all fairness what man wouldn't? In cooperation I hand Ken my left wrist, and Henry my right, all without being asked first, so I'm not exactly fighting this either. I was a bit playfully rough with Cathy, so I have every right to expect at least the same.

Cathy comes around to stand in front of me, her evil little smile in combination with those little boobs of hers very distracting, to both the guys and myself. She whispers in Ken's ear first, her naked boobs rubbing on his muscular arm well above the water, her cooch pressed up against his hip, holding him close with both an arm and a leg as a pang of jealousy surges through me. She obviously knows what she's doing to me, (I see it on her face) but does she realize what she's doing to her own husband two feet away? I see his face, half lust, and half something else, all as she half-grinds on my Ken.

I see Ken whisper something and nod his head, so whatever she's suggesting it at least has his approval, so it can't be all that bad. She slinks over to Henry next, he gets the same treatment as Ken, but her face has this special smile, and the two share a kiss too. He nods his head as well, and when she disengages the guys nod to each other and swing out left and right of me, holding my wrists with both hands now. So a bit of a playful tug-o-war with Ken and Henry facing each other, with me as the rope, and I'm thinking a cross between some serious bondage, and maybe a medieval rack. Cathy points down towards my legs with the index finger of each hand, moving them away from each other, the boys under her full orchestrated control.

This is suggesting some serious "against my will" fantasy scenarios in my head, with the three-on-one aspect of this, even in mock form, suggesting a singular outcome. Henry's a bit more hesitant that Ken is, but seeing I'm okay with this level of play he mirrors Ken's efforts, and each of the guys uses one of their legs to pull my "their-side" ankles outward, stretching me out like a starfish in the sand, but mostly below the surface of the water. Ken had standing four-corner bound me in his cabin a time or two back when I was a teen, long before I was married, and this reminds me of that.

I struggle a bit, tell them to let me go, but my insincerity is obvious. Cathy warns me "not one more peep, or else!" and being the sometimes wise-ass that I can be I taunt her with my "or else what?" letting her know that I like this game. This is no gentle "untie the strings" event like Ken had done himself, so Cathy, wishing to establish her mock authority over her new captive, reaches into my bikini bottoms in front and rips them off of me in a single jerk, her masculine-like strength on full display. She's an athlete, and her body moves with that kind of muscular precision.

The tiny strings are destroyed in an instant, ripped out at the nylon triangle, I'm just never wearing this suit again, including, unfortunately, back to our room at the conclusion of this little adventure.

My "HEY!" was possibly a bit sharp for Cathy's brand-new dominant alter-ego though, and this apparently counts for way more than a mere peep too, so sporting that evil smile she wads up my destroyed bikini bottom, looks to Ken first, and then tells me to open up. This woman is wise beyond her years in kink, or she's a straight-up gifted amateur dominant, but with the guys holding me in their vise-like grips I'm just not going anywhere, and I did just taunt her as well. She stares me down for like three long seconds, but with zero good options I cave and open my mouth wide, letting this rank amateur half my age gag me with my own bikini, tasting not like me, but salty ocean; YUCK!

She packs it in deep, strings and all, it's straight up sensual, (bordering on the erotic) having another's fingers put anything into your mouth for you. I feel like a fool both gagged and standing there with my own hanging cooch on display under the water, bald, hanging, and slightly open for this woman's viewing pleasures. Ken obviously knows what I look like already, my intimate grooming as well, but neither man can actually see the effect my tautly pulled appendages have on my girl parts from where they're standing.

My bikini top gets no more consideration that the bottoms did, and Cathy reaches into the space between my boobs and jerks hard a second time, my boobs dropping free with a splash, which both men couldn't help but to notice. The strings have dug into my back and neck a bit, but it's a small price to pay for all this unexpectedly delightful kink.

Cathy tosses my bikini top in the direction of her own suit, and there we are, stripped nude by each other, and really needing to get going less someone comes out to check on us. Cathy isn't done with me yet though, so she comes around behind me, and with little resistance from me, (and zero verbal complaints as I'm still gagged) she gets the guys to release my arms, pinning them behind me just like I had pinned her's. Her right arm is between my own upper arms and my back, and I'm just not going anywhere while in her strong grip.

I know what this is, full domination, so maybe she could save some face here. I did however cause her to give both guys a bit of a show myself, so you get what you get I suppose. Cathy is shorter than I am, but she's nothing but muscle, and she gets her legs between my own as the guys step further back, lifting me most of the way out of the water as my legs flail around helplessly. So my back is bent like a banana, no secrets here at all, nothing Ken hasn't seen himself, but Henry is getting the full show, gyrating boobs and all! She gives her hips a little thrust and tosses me in Henry's direction, and he gallantly catches me, with his hands ending up places he likely didn't intend. Still a gentleman, but one who's now had my bare boobs pretty much mashed up against his bare chest. We share a brief look, maybe he's telling me that was kind of nice even, certainly much different that his own highly attractive hard-body wife.

Everybody laughs, including me, it's just a few seconds of rough play, but it does make me wonder if provoking Cathy, even playfully, is a wise idea going forward. Anyway, the show's over and we need to get going, so we find the floating cushions and we set out towards the nude beach doing the breast stroke, cushions slung between our shoulders, bare asses breaking the surface every now and then. The cushions aren't great for flotation this way, but they're not in the way either. A last look over my shoulder finds the guys making their way towards the beach, I wondering who exactly saw the show...

Cathy is pacing me, which is good as her form is perfect, and also faster than my own. I can swim quite a distance myself, but at my pace, likely not her's. So at this pace she can actually talk to me, but I'm struggling to answer more than one word answers, so the "conversation" is a bit one sided, just like the one hubby and I recently had. It's further domination, so she's talking, and I'm listening. We both decide that goggles might have been a good idea, but for my part I didn't know we'd be swimming to the nude beach, so I give myself a pass on that one.

... So we've been swimming maybe ten minutes or so by this point, and down low like this it's all water, the sun is our primary guide, and I've decided to break down and use my cushion and just kick my legs a bit. It's silly to swim myself to exhaustion, just to prove what we both already know; that Cathy is obviously the superior athlete. There's a life lesson here too; Cathy is good at certain things, gifted physically, such should be both celebrated and rewarded. It's a bit like hubby and Ken, each has their unique gifts, neither is better than the other as a human, it's just different skills and abilities.

Anyway, it's still a ways to go, and I'm also assuming it's deep here too. Using my cushion makes our conversations a bit more bidirectional this way though, and Cathy tells me she thought poor Henry's eyes would bug out of his head when she tossed my naked ass at him.

"Me too" I tell her candidly with a laugh, and the message here is "no hard feelings, it's all just fun and games." The secondary message here is that I think Henry's just wonderful, but that I'm not personally interested.

"So, any boyfriends?" I ask, wanting to understand Cathy and Henry's marriage dynamic a bit. I'm curious in a human way, wondering how Ken and I look to her and Henry.

"Henry tells me all the time that I need a boyfriend, that I could do better than him," she tells me with a laugh. I tell her my husband tells me the exact same thing all the time, that he's very giving, that I'm first in everything. But the implication here is that Cathy hasn't stepped out on her marriage... yet.

"And how did Ken enter the picture?" she asks. I sense she's looking for commonality, maybe a mentor here, maybe even something to make this lifestyle of mine make sense to her. But, her earlier manhandling has distorted that mentor dynamic a bit, so I decide to just tell the facts, from my unique point of view obviously.

"Ken, hubby, and I went on a camping trip when we were teens, that was a first by the way, but hubby was worried about Ken as he'd been dumped still again, so he asked me to be friendly and accepting, maybe even flirt a little if the vibe was right. Well we did way more than that, dares and lost bets leading to my future husband being tied between four trees on a dare, loosing the bet and forced to watch while Ken rocked my world that first time, but neither hubby nor myself told him to stop either. I think hubby was initially looking for a threesome, but that didn't happen. Ken was and is magnificent, and the boys have been there for each other for the last thirtyish years, sharing yours truly when it worked out; which truthfully was rare."

"So, would you do it again?" Cathy asks, and it's a good question, one I've asked myself more than once. The short answer is I don't know, "what-ifs" are crazy things; what if hubby and I didn't, and then Ken did something bad to himself, what if Ken and I did everything we did, and hubby then did something bad to himself as a result? Back then our teenage emotions were vibrant and extreme, it's really amazing that it all turned out as well as it did.

"I was serious about grinding on Ken a bit, if you're still good with that?" Cathy asks. I tell her to have at it, but that I'm going to sit on Henry's lap too, maybe just sit though...

We both hear the jet skis at about the same time, they're going slow, which is good, as getting run over by one seems like a fatal kind of accident to me. They're locals, searching, looking for something, or as it turns out, somebody. They're wearing the red trunks that I associate with lifeguards everywhere, but others can buy red trunks too. We're both "look at me" nude, not even a phone to call for assistance, nor obviously a place to hide it. I'm thinking abduction and sold into sexual slavery for a bit of cash, maybe even delivered to one of those cargo ships on the horizon as entertainment.

It's a dark thought, but I'm thinking that if they only want one, I know who they'll select. Then again, if I saw their faces it would be foolish to leave me behind, so in the end I'd meet the same fate as Cathy, just with different potential customers. She isn't concerned at all though, it's business as usual...

We're also pretty much out of sight of the beach, so it's literally the perfect place for an abduction, to snatch us out of the ocean like fresh-caught prey; "catch of the day" I think to myself without mirth, almost like it was planned in advance. Cathy waves, and I think "what the hell is she doing?" Seeing her they rather precisely drive their machines over to us, and with a delightful British accent they tell us both that they heard two naked lovelies might need a lift to the nude beach.

That's Ken's doing, sending these men I mean, twisting me up over nothing. But Cathy herself obviously knew in advance, and she didn't share that even though she easily could have.

"You knew?" I asked indignantly.

"You didn't?" she asks in reply, clearly throwing Ken under the bus. One makes me a victim here, and the other just a good actress playing a part.

A ride is better than swimming the whole way, but that also means quite the show for these two young men, but they're here, and we could obviously use the lift too. They lift us up and out by our outstretched hands, up onto their machines, so the full show, as in no secrets, and it's also obvious that they like what they're looking at, so all smiles while helping us up and on. They're both ripped and fit just like Cathy, so maybe lifeguards themselves, called in with the beach lifeguard's radio for this quasi mock-rescue, and the picture becomes a bit more obvious. At this height I can also see the beach again, but at this distance the people are just dots, so we're dots to them too I suppose.

"Pickup complete" my handsome jet ski pilot says into his own radio while looking towards the distant beach, all as I snuggle my naked self right up against his muscular back on the long seat, my bare boobs pressed tight to his back, and my hands clasped around his sixpack. I'm grateful to be rescued, even though my peril was far more imaginary than real.

"How grateful would hubby be himself, after being marooned for two weeks all alone?" I wonder. "What would he himself offer for in exchange a ride home, or for that matter something gender-appropriate to wear while on that ride home? What might Ken or I playfully demand, if of course the mood was right?" I know how I'm feeling after only a very short time in this water, like if either of these guys wanted anything for their trouble, anything at all, I might just give it to them...

So I've never ridden on a jet ski before, but I'll tell you they're wicked fast, like a motorcycle for the water, all as these guys demonstrate their skills in handling their powerful machines, carving an indirect path towards the nude beach. Every little bump we hit has me bouncing on the big seat, not only gaping me a bit, but causing my bare boobs to briefly defy gravity a bit too. My close body position has a secondary purpose too though, so not only so I didn't fall off the back, but it mostly hides most of the proverbial "good-parts" from view. Cathy for her part looks quite natural paired up with her own driver, two hard-bodies out for a quick ride.

It was over in a flash, the guys bringing both Cathy and myself to maybe a hundred and fifty yards from possibly the worst looking beach down here. My driver tells both of us to be careful, as the surface under the water here is notoriously bony with stones both big and small. So I guess from a marketing stance this makes sense though, "how does one make use of a terrible beach?" "Make it clothing optional!"

This also explains why just about nobody was in the actual water.

We have a bit of an audience on the beach though, but truthfully we've made one hell of an entrance here. I get up high on the seat and kiss my handsome driver on the cheek by way of a thank you, so my left boob brazenly on his shoulder. I'm feeling very "alive" here, I can't explain it, but this little ordeal has left me feeling a bit full of myself, like I could do anything. I'm not quite sure if Cathy is feeling the same way, but we leave our floating cushions behind with our rides and slip into the water for our swim to the beach.

I don't know if the boys are here already, or for that matter if they even saw the awesome arrival that they had planned on our behalf, but wandering the beach without a stitch to wear while looking for them might just be a second ordeal. I then imaging if Cathy and I were abandoned here, what that might feel like, so perhaps

a bit of further solidarity with my stranded hubby.

"What if they went to the wrong beach?" I ask Cathy as we lazily swim towards the boney shoreline.

"My driver was cute, I wanted to kiss him" she tells me by way of an answer, so ignoring my own obvious worries, perhaps in a nuanced powerplay of some kind. Something happened back there on that beach with the four of us, something profound for Cathy, maybe a part of her that was dormant just got awakened. I can relate to that as well, five years ago I thought my life was settled and perfect as well, in my mind the entire story was already written...

"I did" I confess, wondering how she could have missed that little detail herself, unless she were fully focused on the man sitting in front of her.

I ask how long she knew about our jet ski rescue, and she tells me Henry mentioned that it was possible, but not confirmed, so the boys set us up to make the short journey on our own with the cushions. It's still something hubby would never have done himself, he'd want to know for certain that I was perfectly safe, near-zero risk. But in that safety was a bit of potential boredom too, as in perfectly safe can also be perfectly boring.

"They're still watching us" Cathy observes after looking over her shoulder, our jet ski guys watching to be sure we made it to the beach safely. So not like hubby, but surely not on my own either...

Cathy and I walk out of the gentle surf together, and since there's just a few people in the water, really just wading in the shallows, we draw a fair bit of attention. Near the water there are some rather tan and large people of both genders watching nonchalantly from their lounge chairs, the ratio of men to women skewed heavily towards the men though. No judgements, it's just the way it is.

We make our way towards the back of the beach, looking left and right for the boys, maybe looking to some here like Cathy and I were looking for something else though. To be fair, it's a large and crappy beach, rounded stones more than sand to walk on, but being so large of a space the sunbathers are a bit off on their own. Back further from the water's edge there are some highly attractive members of both genders, but still maybe five guys all in a group, to one or two ladies.

We find the boys at the back of the beach, but to be fair this was the best place to be to find somebody. They're both wearing their shorts though, like almost the only two people who aren't in some stage of undress, as there are some ladies here wearing bikini bottoms only. There in oversized folding beach chairs, and they're staring at us approach with huge smiles on their faces. I'm a little disappointed as I was maybe wanting to see Henry in all his naked glory, but the trade off is Cathy doesn't get to see my Ken like that.

So Cathy and I are on "out in the open, full light of day display" for both men, and anybody else who happens to look too. It's objectifying, but also hot for me specifically, all this attention nothing but good for my ego.

"There's a problem" I tell Cathy, in reference to her sitting on Ken's lap like we had negotiated earlier.

She asks me softly what the problem is, and I tell her Ken doesn't like to share. She finds that amusing, bearing in mind what I've already shared with her about my own husband's sharing. She tells me she thinks she can get Ken to be okay with my sitting on Henry's lap too, and she offers a wager, the details to be determined later though. We're maybe fifty feet from the boys by this point, so we don't have time for details, it's yes or no. Cathy is a bit dominant, and she already knows so much about me, about us, so I agree. There is just something about this woman having something on me though, a power over me even, it just feels so natural.

"Deal" I tell Cathy, and with that she and I switch places and cue up on each other's partners, sauntering the rest of the way there like two wannbe runway models.

"Hardly seems fair, this is a nude beach you know" I tell both guys when within a few feet of them. They collectively have this look of "what's going on here?" with our position changes, but they aren't exactly complaining either.

"Clothing optional" Ken corrects, "besides it would look super-gay if Henry and I were here all by ourselves, 'hangin-out' for a while like that."

"Yet it was okay for Cathy and I?" I ask myself. Okay, I realize that we all can be hypocrites at times, myself included. Better than a naked lap dance for Ken this way though, sex on the beach may be a nice drink, but there are signs all over down here telling you that such will land you in jail, and hard-body Cathy grinding all over Ken's bare manhood will end up being near-sex, if not sex actual. So I wasn't really up for that myself, but this is just about on the edge of being okay for me this way; something I may have even done myself back in that strip-club.

"I'm really tired from all that swimming" Cathy tells Ken while standing right in front of him, her perfect little nude body well within his reach. He makes to get up, to give her the seat, but it's not lost on me that neither of the guys have offered us any clothing yet either. She waves him off while standing in his way, instead turning and backing her muscular ass just about into his face, wiggling her ass and slowing sitting down on his lap, all as he looks at me like "what the fuck do I do here?''

It's funny to see all "I'm in control" Ken get taken a bit out of his comfort zone here, so maybe a bit of payback for his earlier prank with the jet skis. With her hands on the arm rests she lowers herself down gradually, Ken doesn't know where to put his own hands now, but I think he at least known where not to put them.

Henry, well his face has that same expression from earlier, half-angst, and half something else, but I think the something else might be a bit of pride, as in "that's mine, I get to take her home with me."

I'm standing there for just a few seconds more, long enough to see Ken reluctantly put his hands on her bare midriff and lift her slightly, to apparently reposition her. I can only assume on what, but he's a fully functional man, and his body's biology in in control here. Cathy is coming into her own, it's wild to watch, maybe coming to the reasonable conclusion that she's one hell of a sexy woman.

I look at Henry like "your turn" and I slowly sit on his lap as well, but not pushing my larger ass into his face like Cathy did with Ken. Cathy was right, she has good man-instincts, as in Ken can't say a word with Cathy perched and squirming around on his lap already. I don't want Henry, but I don't mind the touchstone to my wild youth either.

This is an "out-there" event already, but it gets a bit more so next. I scootch my butt around a bit, and I can feel little Henry pretty much right where he'd need to be if this was chair-sex instead, and fair to say that Henry has nothing to be ashamed of in the man department either; we're talking a Ken-level endowment here. He keeps looking over at his bride riding Ken's lap though, so his heart is obviously there, so good for both of them.

She keeps moving around on Ken's lap though, teasing both him and her husband, and at one point Ken tells her to stop moving so much, but with a playful overtone. Ken knows what she's doing; really we all do.

"Pin my wrists if you want to make me to stop moving" Cathy offers, bumping the bar much higher here. It's not a sultry bedroom-tone, but not exactly conversational either. I'm pretty sure Ken wouldn't be this bold all on his own without this invitation, but the lady did ask, and for my part I haven't put a stop to this particular game either. Ken also let Cathy torment me a bit back on the first beach, and he's doing so again; so I guess he's being consistent here. I keep coming back to Cathy being a woman who's used to getting what she wants in life...

Cathy makes it easy on him, crossing her wrists behind her back in invitation, as if daring Ken to physically restrain her; so this is wild, but we're "in the moment" too. Henry is staring now, this show is exclusively for him, I get that now; Ken is cannon fodder, a tool, Henry is the prize.

Ken snatches both of her wrists in his large right hand, holding them at the top of her ass, but then he swoops around with his left hand, his thumb in her belly button, and his fingers under that; so fingers in her "H" grooming just above her mound, Henry's area. He's holding her firmly in place, ostensibly to keep her still, but I also know what such physical control does to me...

I feel Henry stirring under me, and I think this taking-liberties gentle manhandling of his wife, just three feet away, is going to cause this poor boy to cream his shorts. I don't want to embarrass him, nor do I want to have him creaming all over my own naked ass either, even through his shorts, that's a bit personal for me.

... So to make a long story short, I decide there and then that any form of cuckoldress-angst isn't for me personally, I'm just not wired like hubby is, or perhaps I just haven't been rewired like he has. I know we're all products of our varied experiences, but watching Cathy grind on Ken while he restrains her is getting under my skin, so I get off of Henry and ask what they brought for me to wear back to the hotel. In other words, "that was fun, but game over!"

My sundress is my answer, my bikini was destroyed, and the boys had no time to get me something else. Cathy's in better shape herself, but no hard feelings, play rough and you get bruises. So it's back to the hotel for a quiet night and some packing, Ken perhaps realizing that he'd gone a bit far that day, but it's not even close to a deal breaker, our history together is far too long for that. Ken isn't really interested in Cathy, and I'm pretty sure she's not wanting to trade her Henry for him either, it was just some heat of the moment flirting that got a bit carried away.

**********************************************************************************************

We check out the next morning, Cathy and Henry already on their way to the airport, and just for fun I check on the lost and found case, not sure why, it's just a feeling I suppose. My destroyed bikini is in there now, but I don't see that special barrel key any longer. We're sitting next to Cathy and Hery again on the plane, and Cathy is a bit apologetic, perhaps Henry giving her an earful about her antics. We're both super gracious, it's all good, "what happens in the islands stays in the islands," that kind of thing.

... We're on final approach when Henry leans over and makes the official invitation, "we'd love to have you guys at the house, maybe even bring Rose with you" he offers, and Ken and I both tell him that we'd love to, sharing a private look between ourselves afterwards...

So we finally clear customs and we're on our way to the camper, and I text hubby to let him know we're running a bit behind. There's no reply, but my phone tells me the message was received. No worries, I'd kind of warned him that we might not talk to each other before we left. I look at Ken, and he tells me hubby's probably just busy packing up, so comforting me like he should. I won't say the Cathy incident caused a row between us or anything, but I've already decided that limiting our interactions with that other couple might be wise, at least until some boundaries were established. Along those lines I had shared a bit much with her in a moment of weakness, but what's done is done.

We drive by some billboards on the highway, the same ones we no doubt drove past on the way to the airport, but I'm really seeing them now, and it's a bit disturbing. There's one for life insurance, "taking care of the ones you leave behind" is their slogan, and I'm reminded of hubby's own policy, it's quite generous.

Then there's several for all sorts of counseling services, something else that's exploded since covid. There are some others with equally thought provoking themes, avoiding bad and permanent life options that we didn't want Ken pondering himself. Hubby's very stable, like a rock and comfortable in his skin, but in exclusively focusing on Ken's mental health I've sort of taken hubby's for granted. I'm second guessing that decision now, and I only hope that the reason I can't get hubby on the phone isn't one of those.

Anyway, two more texts and one call from me all show a phone that's properly working, there's simply nobody near it to answer. By this point I'm in a bit of a panic, Ken is driving a bit faster now, and we somehow both have the same unspoken fear, that maybe hubby, while all alone with his thoughts, has decided that Ken and I would be better off without him.

Nothing could be further from the truth, hubby owns a big piece of my soul, but I fear that message may be too late.

Ken suggests looking at location services, to see where he is, or at least where his phone is. Ken is being logical, where I'm being a bit frantic, but men and women just see life through a different lens. Hubby doesn't go to the fricken restroom without his phone though, so experience tells me he'll be right next to his phone. I'm half dreading this now, finding both the phone, and him; where earlier I was looking forward to seeing him again, giving him a big hug and thanking him for making this so easy for us.

Location services tells me his phone is down in the ravine, and it's not moving, according to my own phone it's been in the same place for over two hours. There are few good reasons for this, and again I fear the worst...

We open both gates and drive in, there's a clothes line set up with all manner of clothing is hanging out to dry, bras and panties, skirts and blouses, nothing is masculine, and nothing is hidden from Ken's observant eyes either. I can see it in his eyes, his "WTF" is going on here.

"I set him up to live a bit as his alter-ego, if he wanted to"I tell Ken. I expected this would be kept private, but apparently not so now. I know Ken, guys dressing up aren't his thing, but he knows hubby does this already. I can tell that this makes hubby something less in his eyes, but in my mind I have larger concerns here.

I go to the trailer, it's not locked, but he's not in it either, so we call his name and use our phones to locate his, walking towards the ravine, expecting to find the worst. We find him at the bottom, head down and ass in the air, tennis skirt riding high and revealing a pair of pink panties with a bow, Ken is closer and calls his name reflexively, and hubby jumps up startled, asking when we got there.

He's up on his feet now, and the hug I give him is so much more that "I missed you." Ken even hugs him too, hubby telling us he lost his phone down here someplace washing clothes in the stream. For Ken his new look is different to be sure, and truthfully it is for me as well, but he's also been quite accepting of "different" from us. We then use our phones to locate his, seeing all the missed texts on the screen when we find it under a log just a few feet away, covered in leaves...

So Ken bought him an island tee shirt to wear home, and that coupled with a pair of my borrowed cut-off short-shorts made his ride home outfit complete. He's tan and shaved smooth, looking very feminine, and I wonder what the future holds for Rose. I get Ken to load some of the supplies into his truck while hubby and I have a few private words, I telling him I feared the worst when I couldn't get him on the phone. He tells me that just isn't happening, easing my fears today, and in the future as well.

"I give it five years" hubby tells me out of the blue, our thoughts just so in alignment here.

"Seven" I tell him in reply.

"So what shall we wager on the outcome Mrs. B?" hubby asks.

"I don't know yet Mr. B, or should I just call you Rose, at least when you're dressed up?"

"For now though the cage stays on," I add. "I think it makes you a bit more docile, more accepting. Well loved pets get neutered all the time you know..."

"I love you too," hubby tells me sincerely...