Part 1 is [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/e1nckz/marys_adventure_part_1_of_6_fm/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
——————
CHAPTER 5 – WEDNESDAY
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, but this place is amazing, and he was amazing, and he made me feel like you never…”
Writing an “I’m sorry I cheated on you” text to my husband was the hardest part about cheating on him.
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did, and I deserve whatever scorn you have for me. I intend to behave myself…”
The words on the screen were hollow, not exactly the best adjective for an apology. Worse yet, they were a lie. I was sorry, knowing that what I’d done would hurt him to the core, but I really couldn’t imagine behaving myself now.
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and I’m so sorry, but he was so hot and had a massive…”
Best not to go there.
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and he gave me the most incredible orgasm…”
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and he did things for me that you never would…”
“Frank, I sinned with another man, and I will do it again. Tonight, if possible…”
I wasn’t sure why I was agonizing so much over word choice, Frank still hadn’t responded to either of my selfies. I hadn’t heard a word from him since he texted me about not being able to find the bread. That stupid fucking bread, which just sat on top of the fridge if he had just bothered to look…
“Frank, I fucked another guy, and he was better than you could ever dream of being, you needle-dicked…”
No. He was still my husband, and as angry as I was with him, I wasn’t looking to hurt him. I just needed to apologize. Keep it simple.
“Frank, I sinned with another man yesterday, and I am so sorry.” Send. There, it was out there, and I couldn’t take it back. Some stupid part of me expected an immediate, explosive response as I sat in bed, but, of course, it didn’t come. Total silence from Frank. Of course, he was probably at work. I could give him the benefit of the doubt. I rolled out of bed and assessed myself in the mirror. My tan was becoming more pronounced. Just days ago, I had been pasty white, but now, my skin was the tone of a brown egg, not tan enough to be noticeable to the casual observer, but definitely noteworthy to anyone who knew me. I liked it. Especially the lack of tan lines. I slipped on a pair of simple cotton panties and a t-shirt and headed out of my room to find Gina already up, wearing her bathrobe and sipping on some coffee while admiring the view from the couch. She looked at me cautiously as I sat next to her.
“Hey there, Ms. Mary. How are you feeling today?”
“Surprisingly, pretty good,” I said, truthfully. I was surprised that even telling Frank about what had happened hadn’t put a damper on the high I was feeling. “I told Frank,” I said, casually. Gina, who had been mid-sip, choked on her coffee.
“You told him? I thought this was going to be a ‘what happens in St. Bart’s stays in St. Bart’s’ situation. One and done and never speak of it again.” I shook my head.
“I can’t un-ring that bell. It happened, and the guilt would rip me apart if I never told him. Besides…” I trailed off.
“Besides? Mary, finish your thoughts!”
I smiled and cast my eyes downward. “I’m not so sure I want it to be a one and done deal,” I said, meekly. I expected a big reaction out of Gina, for her to hoop and holler and call me a slut, but in a good way, but she just watched me. I looked over. Her expression was absolutely indecipherable, totally blank. She just seemed to be studying me. “I mean, I’m not talking about going out now and dragging ten guys back here to boink my brains out, but I…I don’t know, I liked yesterday. A lot. A whole lot. And it’s not like Frank is being terribly attentive, either while I’m here or I’m at home.” Gina still stared at me. “I…It’s like…I want…more, you know? Yesterday was so far beyond what I thought sex could be like. It was revitalizing, it was eye opening, and I don’t think I can go back to…just Frank.”
“Do you love him?” The answer should have been easy. He was my husband, till death do us part, in the eyes of God. Gina knew that, she was my Maid of Honor. It wasn’t easy, though. The longer I spent away from Frank, the more I realized I didn’t need him. I was still fond of him, of course, I wouldn’t have gotten upset about him not paying attention to my pictures and texts if I didn’t care about him, but love, oddly enough, had become an awfully big word to attach to him.
“I…don’t know. I think so. I care about him, enough that I told him what happened. Enough that I hope he’s not upset by it.” The words “I don’t know” are almost as hard to say as “no” when talking about whether or not you love your husband, but it was the truth. I wasn’t about to lie to Gina. I wasn’t that kind of woman (inasmuch as I knew what kind of woman I was anymore) and this was most certainly not that kind of friendship. Gina snaked an arm around me and pulled me in for a hug. Not a fierce, holding on for dear life style hug, but a gentle, understanding, comforting hug. We sat there for a long while, staring out the window over the paradise of St. Bart’s. Gina made no attempt to start further conversations, she just let the beauty of a sunny morning view of a tropical beach ease my concerns. It worked surprisingly well. Just watching the distant waves rolling in, the people walking by, the seagulls circling, It seemed to, at least briefly, put my problems in perspective. It wasn’t going to make my inevitable conversation with Frank any easier, but for now, it didn’t seem quite so daunting. At least I was staying honest. I smiled. After all the excitement of the past few days, it was easy to forget the simple joy to be had in this. It was just me and my best friend and a beautiful day in a beautiful place. For now, I didn’t have to worry about how I was going to talk to Frank, or what it could mean for the rest of my life or what I was going to do for the rest of the week to make everything worse, none of that mattered. In the silence of that hotel room, I was whole and complete, happy with my life as it was.
“You should call Frank,” Gina said softly. I looked at her. Her jaw was tight and her eyes were watery, like she was desperately trying not to cry as she stared straight ahead out the window.
“What?”
“Call Frank. Even if you have to leave him a voicemail, call him.” Her voice was tight. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her in this emotional state.
“Gina, what…” She stood up abruptly and stormed into her room, head low, and slammed it shut behind her. I stared after her, completely dumbfounded. Normally I would have given someone in her state a wide berth, but Gina was not prone to outbursts. She was vibrant. She loved life. So I was profoundly concerned. I knocked softly on the door, opening it slowly before she had a chance to tell me to go away. Her room was set up similarly to mine, just mirrored. Her bed had the overstuffed comforter stripped off it, as Gina had always run hot and couldn’t stand to sleep under too many blankets. That part was expected. The opened suitcase on the foot of the bed was a bit more of a surprise. Gina, a flurry of activity, was flying around the room, throwing her belongings into it with no discernable order. “Gina…” I approached her cautiously. As I got closer, it was clear she had tears running down her cheeks. “Gina, what in the world is going on?” It was a more assertive tone than I was aware I was capable of, especially when it came to Gina, but she had me seriously worried.
“We’re going home,” she said in a choked voice as she tossed a handful of clothes into her suitcase.
“Home? Gina, our reservations are good thru Friday, we don’t have return tickets until Friday afternoon…”
“I’ll figure it out, Mary, just please get packed.”
“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on!” It was the first time she’d heard me really yell, never mind the language. She stopped dead in her tracks, her back to me. After a moment of trying to compose her, she pressed her hands to her temples. I crossed to the opened suitcase, grabbing handfuls of clothes from it and tossing them on the floor. “Gina, I’m not packing SHIT, and neither are you, until you tell me what your problem is!”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” She spat the bitter words out with such force, I fell back onto the bed. She wheeled around, tears down her cheeks, her mouth and eyes painting a picture of pure anguish. “It wasn’t supposed to get real, Mary. You were just supposed to cut loose a little, learn to have some fucking fun. I tried so hard all through college to get you to loosen up, to enjoy yourself, but you kept studying and preaching and being so stubbornly good. I thought this place…I hoped it would break you out of it, get you to have some fun. Maybe, I thought, just maybe, you would have a fling, I would comfort you, and we’d agree to never talk about it again, and certainly never to tell Frank.” Her voice cracked on Frank’s name. She hadn’t moved a step, stuck in a wrathful pose with her legs wide and her finger pointing at me in an accusatory fashion, but her face was still nothing but sorrow. “You weren’t supposed to tell him, Mary. You weren’t supposed to ruin your marriage just because I wanted you to have some fun.” With that, she sank to her knees and sobbed. I found the strength to get up and comfort her, wrapping my arms around her and gently cooing to her as she cried like I’d never seen a grown woman cry.
When her sobs calmed down into whimpers, I gently escorted her to the main living area, getting her away from the chaos that was her failed packing job. I set her on the couch and kneeled in front of her, holding her hands. “Gina, you didn’t force me to do anything. I’ve done what I’ve done because I wanted to. I think…I think I’ve always been this way, deep down. I just didn’t know how to let it out. Believe it or not, I didn’t tell Frank because of some horrible guilt over my sinful behavior. I’m glad I fucked R. If he was here right now, I’d fuck him again and let you watch. It was one of the greatest moments of my life. I told Frank because it’s the right thing to do. Whatever happens when we go home on Friday, and not a day earlier, I want to be able to say that I did not hide from what I did.” I gently wiped a tear rolling down Gina’s cheek. Even as an emotional wreck, she was phenomenally beautiful. “So I don’t want to hear any more about packing, or leaving early, or you forcing me into a life of sin. You brought me here to show me a good time, and that’s what we’re going to do.”
–
Four days on the island, and I was just venturing outside the confines of the hotel. It was hard to believe, as much as had happened, but it was true. Gina had been hesitant to do any shopping, calling the shops cheap and touristy, but I was a tourist, and unlike Gina, I wasn’t sure when I’d ever be in a place like this again, so even if I was going to just browse, I was going to see all that the island had to offer here in my last couple days. Wandering with Gina through the marketplace in our sundresses, mine a pale yellow, hers a slightly bolder blue, both pulled over our bathing suits, I was all too aware that we were both catching the eyes of more than our share of guys. Still, being just the two of us, it was fun, and much needed, to have a moment of something resembling normalcy. For a few hours, I was just Mary, hunting for souvenirs for my family and friends. While the word “sexy” was still sticking in my mind, and I was certainly aware of it, for that time, it took a back seat. St. Bart’s wasn’t just about sex and naughtiness, it was fun. I think Gina even got on board with the concept after a while. She was certainly feeling better. Her meltdown at the potential destruction of my marriage was all but forgotten, just another bump in the road, quickly disappearing into the rear view mirror of our friendship.
After returning my assortment of stupid touristy purchases to the room, we made plans to hit up the beach, an essential experience, according to Gina. Not wanting to worry about our dresses once we got to the beach, a relatively short walk away, we stripped to our bikinis and once again ventured out. As we were preparing to leave the room, I remembered back to Sunday with some amusement, how nervous I had been to be seen by one or two people in this bathing suit. Now I was getting ready to walk to a public beach in it like it was no big deal. It’s amazing how much of a difference a few days can make.
The beach was less crowded than I had anticipated. There was a healthy scattering of people on the white sand, but I had assumed we would have to fight to find a patch of ground to call our own, but we found one fairly easily, far enough away from the commotion of people frolicking in the water. We could still hear them, along with the soft sound of the surf. As Gina spread out our towel on the sand, I stood in the sun and looked over the majesty before me. The white sand was smooth under my feet, and so warm I wanted to lay down and sleep on it forever. The waves, either at low tide or something close to it, rolled in and out rhythmically, like God’s own lullaby. People walking by were peaceful, from the kids playing in the surf to the couples walking hand in hand. I felt a gentle peace deep in my soul. It occurred to me that, just 24 hours earlier, I had been with R, being as sinful as I had ever been, or at least, I thought it was sinful. Here, in this place, in this beauty, with the sun warm on my shoulders on what must have been the most beautiful beach in all of God’s creation, I couldn’t help but feel vindicated, blameless. If God had granted me a day like today after a day like yesterday, how bad could yesterday have been? As if validating the notion, just then, a gentle, warm breeze came through, rustling the leaves of the nearby palm trees. Gina caught my attention to pass me the suntan oil. I sat on the towel, now fully spread out, and settled in for what promised to be a supremely relaxing day.
–
I dozed off. Between the sound of the surf and the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze coming off the water, it was impossible not to. This was a place specifically designed for peace, which is why the harsh, heckling sounds nearby were so jarring. I sat upright, looking around for the source. It wasn’t violent so much as it was rude and mocking. Two voices, though I couldn’t immediately spot the source. Gina was already at attention, staring further down the beach, her jaw clenched in something between rage and determination. I followed her gaze to two big, athletic brutes were picking on a skinnier man, shoving him, laughing and spitting insults at him. When one shove sent the poor man face down in the dirt and the other brute kicked sand in his face, Gina was on her feet and halfway to them before I knew what was happening. With her back to me, whatever Gina yelled at the attackers was impossible for me to hear, but it certainly caught their attention. I trotted along behind her, unsure of what exactly I could do, but not feeling right about leaving Gina to face down two men all on her own. The men looked at Gina, at first looking like they were ready to fight, but then stunned, presumably by the fact that such an attractive woman was coming to this man’s rescue. She strode up to the nearest one, who stood easily over six feet tall. He was built like a bodybuilder, and was covered in tribal tattoos. All the same, when Gina came toe to toe with him, he looked genuinely intimidated. She simply stared at him and, firmly, said “English?” When the man nodded, she unleashed a slap across his cheek so hard that it hurt me to watch it. She launched into a diatribe at him and his friend as I, secure in the knowledge that the men were held in check, went to help their victim.
It took me a moment to recognize the man without his uniform on. “Alberto?” He recognized me at almost the same moment and avoided eye contact, though he accepted my help to get to his feet. “Alberto, what caused this?” He just shrugged and continued avoiding eye contact. Gina turned on her heel, having been in a heated, though mostly one sided, conversation with the two brutes.
“Oh, I’ll tell you what the problem is. These two shit-for-brains losers thing Alberto here is a…what word was it you two used?”
“He…” The one Gina had focused on was clearly embarrassed, though whether it was by what word he’d used or by the fact that he was being dressed down by a woman was unclear. He clearly didn’t want to continue the sentence, though a truly scary look from Gina fixed that. “He’s a faggot. Everyone knows. Little pussy just won’t come clean about it.” SMACK! Another slap from Gina shut him up as she laid back into him for everything from his actions, to his homophobia, to his word choices, all at such speed that even I, who was used to Gina, could barely keep up.
I looked back to Alberto, who was clearly humiliated by the accusations. I thought back to our one encounter by the poolside. I remembered the way he looked at me and Gina, the way his eyes yoyoed over my body as I sat up, the way he had to conceal his bulge. If Alberto was gay, I was the Queen of England. I thought briefly of mentioning this, but I wasn’t sure if my noticing would just embarrass him further. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise with Gina still telling the brutes off. I had an idea, though. I took a deep breath.
“Alberto,” I said just loudly enough to get his attention. Hesitantly, he brought his eyes up to meet mine. He looked about ready to cry, though he was fighting back the tears admirably. I smiled, running my hand down his cheek. “Kiss me.” I’m not sure what he expected me to say, but it wasn’t that. He searched my eyes for any sign of deception. “It will shut them up for good. Kiss me like you mean it.” Just a day earlier, it would have been an unthinkable line to cross, but here, on this beautiful beach, having already crossed the ultimate adulterous line, all bets were off. If a kiss would help Alberto, then I’d done much worse for much more selfish reasons.
I had hoped he would seize the moment and just KISS me, grabbing me full force, like in the movies, but it was considerably less dramatic than that. He leaned in, trembling, and less kissed me than bumped his lips against mine. Still, it was a start, and I ran with it, pushing in a bit, which seemed to jumpstart his memory as to how kissing worked. His hands rested on my hips as his tongue brushed against my lips gently. I opened my mouth to welcome him, wrapping my arms around his neck and mining the depths of my brain to remember how exactly this “making out” thing was supposed to go. My instincts were plenty, though, and I ended up lost in the sensation of Alberto’s warm kiss. It wasn’t until he reluctantly pulled back, cutting the kiss shorter than I would have liked it, that I realized that the shouting of Gina had died down completely, as had the defenses of the two brutes, leaving nothing but the wind and the waves as the soundtrack to our impromptu make out session. I looked over to find Gina and the other two watching, wide eyed and slack jawed. After a moment to catch my breath, I tried to play casual, shrugging.
“He doesn’t seem gay to me.”
—————————
I’ll be posting a part a day until it’s all up. If you’re interested in a commissioned story, DM me for pricing and details.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/e3lujt/marys_adventure_part_5_of_6_ffm