Chapter 12
“It’s Called Doing Both”
An escape to the Bahamas was what Lara needed after her so far tumultuous winter. Thankfully, a second honeymoon to one of the most exclusive islands in the Caribbean meant lots of warm sunshine and, well, more.
“Right there, yes,” she purred, watching as the bikini-clad lady from California pressed between her toes.
It tickled a little, but Lara was able to ignore it as long as Missy Hotness kept up the foot rub.
She is so damn fine. Tanned. Toned. Just smart enough to know what she was doing, but also coasting by on her stunning looks.
The woman was a pro at doing whatever Lara told her to do.
She makes a killing seducing married middle-aged people here.
Hence Missy Hotness’s mini-freakout when Kennedy approached in wet swimwear and a towel wrapped around her shoulders.
“I leave you alone for twenty minutes in this criminally hot black bikini of yours, and lo’ and behold, you’ve got my replacement already.”
The cabana girl leaped up, apologized to Ms. Anderssen, and took off for the main house a few yards away. This left Kennedy and Lara alone in their private cabana, although plenty of other resort guests milling about could see what they were up to. Good.
“I hate to break it to you, but she gave a better foot rub than you could ever hope to.”
“Fascinating. How about some drinks? What do you want, my seductive little vixen?”
With her girl gone, Lara picked up the proof of her partner’s memoir, intending to read it… if she didn’t get distracted. “I want the biggest, tackiest, most islandy looking drink they have at the bar. Rum, vodka, I don’t give a shit. Oh, make it pink.”
“One Island Floozy, coming right up.”
Kennedy walked away, taking her firm ass with her.
Lara gazed at it longingly, thinking of how those rock-hard muscles thrust against her the night before as they made love on their balcony.
So far, every night they had found someplace to do it, whether in their huge bed, the hot tub, the outdoor shower, or right on the beach. It’s been the perfect trip.
Normally, Lara avoided this more public area, but she was a woman with a mission today. Plus, Kennedy expressed interest in swimming some laps in the Olympic-sized pool. The place was more active than she liked for her vacation, but a couple caught her eye in the neighboring cabana.
She slinked off her lounge chair, leaving behind her partner’s book, and sauntered through the shadows until she came upon the strangers sitting on a silk-covered bench beneath their awning.
The masc was perhaps thirty, with strong muscles and a dark outfit that suggested the heat couldn’t get to them.
Los Angeles. Miami. Maybe Las Vegas. They had to be from one of those hot cities.
The femme, on the other hand, was thin, with short, bobbed brown hair and modest breasts packed into a blue bikini top. The way she stroked her companion’s arm – giving Lara a great view of the diamond wedding ring on the woman’s left hand – suggested a long familiarity. Bingo.
“Come here often?” she asked, leaning against a pillar. “To this island, I mean.”
As it turned out, it was their first time visiting.
They were on their yearly tropical vacation after being married for a whole five years.
When Lara mentioned her partner of ten years was around there somewhere, they both expressed amazement that she was old enough to be married for ten years. Stop. You flatter me.
“I see my flirty wife has invaded the neighbors’ cabana,” Kennedy said, bringing her wife a fizzy pink drink with a lemon-colored straw. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”
As laughter took the four of them over, Lara kissed her spouse’s cheek in gratitude before redirecting her lips to her ear.
“Code red, Kenny.”
She slipped an arm around Lara’s midsection. “I figured. The masc is totally your type.”
“And the femme is totally yours.”
“I thought we weren’t doing this on our honeymoon.”
“I changed my mind. I wanna make the one watch you fuck their wife while I paint their pussy wet with my tongue.”
“That’s boring. I was thinking one giant pile in our cottage.”
“It’s called doing both.”
Lara patted her partner’s shoulder and went back to the main conversation at hand. “Of course, we’ve been to Vermont,” she said. “Kennedy has family from there.”
Idle chitchat always had a habit of leading to something more… risqué. Which proved true even now as the Misses Anderssen flattered their new friends into submission. Quite literally.
I don’t want to have any other kind of marriage.
Lara walked back to her cottage with her partner and friends, arms linking between Kennedy’s and the femme’s.
She looked at Kennedy, sharing with her a small smile that said she infinitely loved her.
I’ve got everything I could need in this one right here.
She wasn’t fragile – she was cautious. Cautious of the strange sensations that sometimes struck her heart and soul. The two parts of her most susceptible to wild speculation and suggestion.
Ten years had gone by so quickly. She hoped the next ten with her wife would be a bit more relaxed. Anywhere outside of the bedroom, anyway.
THE END