Page 8 of Undone
I push the thought out my mind for now, making a note to bring it up during our check in as we get ready for what’s to come.
7
Sammie and I parted ways after the position class. We decided to skip out on time at the pool and agreed to meet for the couples massage so I could get a better look at the property alone. I needed a breather to sort out some of the thoughts that were swirling in my head. Seeing an arrow directing me to a portion of the property I didn’t notice previously, I headed in that direction.
Walking down the stone path I see a sign that reads “Skin Side”. A part of me wants to stop and turn around…but my curiosity won’t let me. I continue down the path, noticing all of the amenities are the same, except there are signs posted everywhere that say, “In order to be served, clothing is not an option.”
I make my way deeper into the section observing the guests walking around naked as the day they were born–like it was natural for them to not have on a stitch of fabric. The pool is lined with beach chairs, women and men sunbathing in the heat. One woman sits in her pool chair playing with her pussy out in the open for all to see–I feel like I’m intruding on her privacy.
Averting my eyes, I turn to see a woman sitting at the edge of the pool, ankle propped up on the shoulder of another whois waist deep in the pool fingering her. Their eye contact is so intense you would assume these two knew one another. A man swims over to the two women, grabbing the exposed foot and inserting the toes into his mouth, sucking them all one by one. Spinning slowly around, I am met with equally erotic visuals at every turn.
“Oh my,” I mumble to myself.
By no means was I a prude or conservative. Hell, I just came all over my husband’s dick in a room full of strangers earlier and enjoyed it immensely…but this level of sexual freedom was still new to me. I stand still for a moment feeling like my body is heating, that familiar ache blooms between my legs as I watch the people around me engage so publicly.
My heart is racing, my pussy is wet again, my nipples ache for attention…but my mind tells me to run. When my initial shock subsides, I rush back to the “clothed” side, heading straight for the bar.
“Three shots of tequila,” I order. I needed something to try and cool my body down.
“Coming right up,” the young bartender says, pulling out shot glasses and pouring the clear liquor into them before setting them in front of me.
I take the first shot allowing the burn of the liquor to coat my throat, trying to get my bearings again. Reaching for the second shot glass I hear the click of heels getting closer.
“Whoa, slow down there,” Mistress Darby’s sultry voice calls as she takes a seat next to me.
I watch as she gets comfortable on the bar stool. She’s wearing a dark brown leather two-piece miniskirt set with a pair of matching stilettos. I wondered if she ever wore anything other than leather, although the outfit showed her shape well. Don’t get me wrong, she looked gorgeous every time I saw her, but she wore the leather like it was a uniform–maybe even a shield. Herlocs hang loose around her shoulders, the front pieces framing her face, her lips looked so soft. Her lipstick is different today, the neutral brown complimenting her soft glam makeup,and her deep brown skin glistens with what I assume to be expensive skincare.
“What’s got you so frazzled?” she asks, nodding to the bartender who approaches her with a glass of dark liquid, setting it down gently on the bar top.
“Just wasn’t prepared for…how free the Skin side is,” I chuckle dryly.
“Yeah, they love to put on a show over there.”
“You know, this wasn’t what I expected when my husband brought me here. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, but I wasn’t prepared for…this,” I admit, twirling the untaken shot in my hand.
“Not many are when they come here–I created this place with that in mind. I wanted this resort to be a place where exploration is encouraged. This is a place where desire is readily available, but for you to get the full experience you must allow yourself to confront your own ideas of what freedom entails and sit in your vulnerability.” She lets the statement hang between us. It’s a truth I didn’t want to confront. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you think your husband brought you here?” She’s looking me in my eyes like she’s trying to read me.
“I complained to him that our sex life was too routine and he felt this getaway would help us reignite our sexual spark,” I tell her, at least half sure I was telling the truth.
“Samuel told me a bit about your situation,” she gives me a knowing look, “I can tell you both love each other very much, but maybe you can take this opportunity to seizeyourmoment. Focus on whatyouwant. Oftentimes, women forget that theirambitions, wants, desires, and the other parts of themselves–outside of being there for everyone else–can come along too. Maybe he wanted to remind you of that.”
Without saying another word, she finishes her drink and leaves me sitting at the bar. I take a minute processing Mistress Darby’s words. Had I forgotten myself somewhere along the way? Did I forget that I could come too–that my desires matter? Her words play on loop in my mind as I make my way back to my room. Mistress was right, I needed to take advantage of this opportunity and allow myself to explore this freedom Sammie had pushed in my lap.
8
Evie sits across from me sipping her cocktail and swaying along with the music.When we finished dinner, we decided to check out the social hour Mistress Darby mentioned. Just as Darby described it would be, some people wore suits and dresses, others just in thongs, pasties, speedos, or boxer briefs to show off their assets. Evie’s strapless dress showed off her shimmering, sculpted collar bones, her curls hanging free just above her shoulders.
Seeing her so relaxed made me smile. This is my second favorite way to see her–happy and free. The first is when she is wrapped in my arms. Her serene smile reassured me that I had chosen our vacation correctly. The riding class was one hell of an appetizer for what was to come of our time here. Surprisingly, watching another person touch my wife so intimately didn’t make me jealous. I was turned on witnessing the pleasure Evie received while she rode and seeing how much she enjoyed it. I wanted to see it again–that orgasm after glow and her exhausted satisfied smile.
Afro-beats begin to play over the speakers in the lounge, breaking my thoughts as I ask my wife to dance. It took no time for Evie’s hips to start a seductive whine. Her outstretchedhands beckon me to come closer. I press my body flush to her backside as she dances with wild abandon, the delicate curve of her ass grinding against my manhood. We continue to move in sync with the music and each other until the man I recognize from the partner positions class approaches.
The white linen set he wore compliments his dark skin as he advances slowly, like a lion would a gazelle–his muscular six-foot frame executing a confident stride. He flashes us a grin full of straight white teeth, quirking a brow as if asking permission to join. I give him a nod of approval, feeling Evie give her own. Stepping into our bubble, he dances his way closer and closer until Evie is sandwiched between us. We settle into a rhythmic flow of bodies giving into the music, letting the rest of the atmosphere fall away, focusing on only the three of us. We only re-enter reality when Evie informs us that her feet need a reprieve.
“We haven’t danced the night away like that in ages,” Evie says, blowing out a breath fanning herself.
