The Vacation Wife David Stone (phonics reader .TXT) 📖

But aside from him, I knew most of our neighbors were in hock up to their hairlines. Greg didn’t give that impression.

Plus, he was a nice guy. It was true I still barely knew him, but the few times we’d now spent socially I’d come to view him in a favorable light. I genuinely liked him. He was well spoken, bright, and had an overall pleasant demeanor. Above all, he showed Susan great respect.

“What are you in the mood for, honey?” This was Susan, wondering what I’d like to drink. She had joined Greg behind the bar. I was surprised at the honey and knew Marci would pick up on it. She didn’t disappoint.

“Yeah, honey, what are you having?” she asked, stressing the honey.

“Oh, right,” said Susan. “We’re going to be getting the ‘honeys’ mixed up, aren’t we?” She laughed, then further to my surprise, put her arms around Greg and gave him a big smooch. Not to be outdone, Marci demonstrated her end of the bargain, giving me a slobbering kiss.

“A bourbon would be nice,” I said, once Marci released me. It was a bit anticlimactic.

“Marci?” asked Greg.

“The same, thanks.” We settled on the stools while Susan and Greg faced us from the other side of the bar.

“So,” I said. “How were your first two days here?”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Susan. “You two just got here!” She looked at Greg, which is what couples do when they’re about to speak for each other. He let Susan continue.

“There wasn’t much to do here, actually. The condo was completely furnished. We drove up to the Walmart in Playa del Carmen—can you believe they have a Walmart here?—and stocked up on groceries and sundries. What else, Greg? I can’t think.”

“Not much. We’ve hung out on the beach, explored the town. There’s not a lot there. We’ve found a few nice restaurants. We thought we’d try a new one tonight.”

“You won’t believe the beach,” said Susan.

“I know...” said Marci.

“We’ve been twice already,” I interjected. “We had some lovely fish tacos in Puerto Morelos on the way down. Marci peed in the ocean there.”

She gave me a swat.

“That’s nice,” said Susan.

“Then we drove down here, got to the hotel, went to the beach there, had a drink in the bar and napped. That’s it so far.”

“Yeah,” said Marci. “That reminds me. We haven’t eaten since those tacos.”

“We’ll go right after these drinks,” said Greg. “It’s just a short drive. It’s on the beach.”

“I should get dressed then,” said Susan. She looked at Greg and then me. “Ryan, you can come with me. Do you mind, Marci?”

“What? No, that’s fine. I’ll chat with Greg here. You don’t mind, do you, Greg?”

“Not at all.”

Susan gave Greg a kiss, came around the bar, took my arm, and led us to the spiral staircase. Once in her and Greg’s bedroom, or what I assumed to be their room, she lunged. She gripped me fervently and smothered me with kisses. When she exhausted the kissing, she pulled off her T-shirt, unbuttoned my shorts, pulled down my zipper, and pulled me over to the bed, upon which we both fell.

“God, I want you to make love to me, Ryan. I’ve been waiting all day for this!” She slipped me inside and within thirty seconds we had completed ninety-five percent of our usual intercourse repertoire. We came at the same time, which spiraled the orgasm to new heights.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” I said afterward, panting.

Susan sprung from the bed as if elevated by supernatural forces and began dressing for dinner.

“I’m surprised too. I wasn’t really planning it, but once I saw you I knew I had to have you.”

“I’m glad. That was out of this world.”

“I know. Isn’t this all so great?”

“You mean… Well, I’m not sure what you mean exactly.”

“Ryan, this whole ‘vacation wife’ thing is what I mean. Don’t you agree? Aren’t you enjoying Marci?”

“Yes, I am. There’s no question there. How are you and Greg getting along?” When she pounced on me, my first thought was to wonder if she and Greg weren’t working out as well as she had hoped.

“We’re great! But when he makes love to me, I’m always thinking of you! I mean, I imagine you watching us. It makes me feel like such a bad girl!”

“And that works for you.”

She thought for a moment. “Do you think of me when you make love to Marci?”

I had to think about this. Did I? I supposed I did think of Susan when I was with Marci, but in a general way. The fact that I was married to someone else played into it.

“I don’t so much think of you watching us, but I am aware of everything else. I mean, you know, I’m sleeping with her, and you’re my wife, and that factors into it. I’ll have to give it more thought before I can really explain it.”

“That’s okay. I think I know what you mean.”

“So, we’re good? You’re having a good time? Susan, if ever you’re not, or you want to change your mind, that’s fine with me.”

“God no. I’m great as long as you’re great too!”

“So all is good,” I said. I felt relieved.

She finished dressing and looked wonderful. It was hot as blazes in that room, and I needed to pee. Susan directed me to their bath where I saw her lingerie hanging over the shower rod. I felt a little sting seeing it, and reflected over the “we” and “us” and “our” statements both Greg and Susan had used earlier. I decided it was a good “sting”, a bald recognition that my wife was now involved with another man. It coexisted with our marriage, as did my new situation with Marci, and best of all, it strengthened our marriage.

Marci had said she and I would be fine as long as I had Susan—who seemed to love me more than ever—and we’d just made love. Later, I may be making love to Marci too, possibly on the beach.

Indeed, everything was fine.

∞∞∞

“What are