Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers

by August MacGregor

  “Why here?” I asked as we checked into the resort and I learned its policy about clothing being something you didn’t have to always worry about.

  She told me that she’d explain when we got to our room, not wanting to talk openly in the crowded lobby. I could wait. I’d waited for her honeymoon surprise for awhile now, so several minutes of checking in didn’t matter at all.

  Our honeymoon suite is exceptional. Roomy and decked out with everything a honeymooning couple would want: large bed, hot tub, luxurious shower, mini fridge with champagne. The works. And we’ve been enjoying it to the hilt.

  “Okay,” Tara said after the door clicked behind the bellhop, his mission of delivering our luggage to our room accomplished. “I chose this place to give you a little taste of Strathmore again. All because of that night you nearly called Julie.”

  “After my bachelor party. And your bachelorette party.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “Our argument that night opened my eyes about the consequences of what I did. When I told you I was done with Strathmore.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “This place is like Strathmore lite. Clothing optional. But no public sex.” She laughed. “I don’t know if there’s another place quite like Strathmore. But anyway, this is a taste of that lifestyle without having to go back there. This is me and you enjoying each other in marriage. Spending time together without worrying about work or planning for the wedding or any of those day-to-day things we have to deal with.”

  “But we could do that at a regular resort.”

  “Sure, but I wanted you to have the … eye candy that you used to have at Strathmore. And…” She trailed off a little as she bit her lower lip. “And if we see an opportunity to have fun with another couple, I’d consider it.”

  What? I was flummoxed—why did she say that after what we’d been through since she’d asked me, many months ago, if she was enough for me?

  Since I was stumped, Tara went on: “This is part of what I consider bringing things back into balance.”

  “But they never were out of balance. We always did things Evie Stevie.”

  “Not for me, though. They’ve felt out of balance since you almost called Julie. That’s when I realized you weren’t completely ready to leave that lifestyle behind. I want to put things in balance, and then put them to bed.”

  With a deep frown, I said, “But are you sure? What if something happens that throws the balance out of whack even more for you?”

  It was her turn to pause. She wasn’t dumbfounded like I was, though. Instead, she looked like she was trying to sort out how to say what was on her mind. And she was getting a little teary in the process, too.

  “Because,” she said, “I know how strong were are. We survived Valentine’s, the bungalow, and all those months at Strathmore. We survived me wanting to quit Strathmore. We survived you almost ringing up Julie. We survived all of that, and we’re still going. We’re stronger than ever. I feel that way, at least. And we’re married now. We have that bond.”

  All of that sank into me, and I kissed her. That was my response: a kiss. I didn’t quite have the words yet, so my lips spoke by pressing on her lips.

  “We’re definitely stronger,” I said softly after our kiss.

  “We sure as fuck are.” Her voice sounded firmer than mine. More resolved. She’d made up her mind and put these plans into action. “I’m going to make a silly comparison, okay?”

  I had no clue where she was going with this, so I said I didn’t mind.

  Tara said, “You were like a kid whose toy got yanked away from him when he wasn’t finished playing with it. You didn’t throw a temper tantrum. You handled it like a man. You stepped up and accepted responsibility. You proposed to me and promised me for the rest of our lives.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “And now, I’m going to let you play with that toy for a little bit. And then … and then, we’re going to put it away. We’ll put it away forever. It’ll be just us.”

  Nodding, I said, “Yeah, it’s a silly comparison, but I get it. It fits. A little more playing, then just us. But there’s just one thing.”

  “What’s that?” She looked cautious.

  “I still get to play with your toys, right? Because I love playing with your toys.” I gently squeezed her tits, which were still covered by her shirt and bra.

  Her caution fizzled into amusement and relief. “If you don’t play with my toys, I’ll force them on you.”

  “I’d love to see you try.”

  I bolted for the bed and vaulted onto it, landing in glorious, cushy comfort. Tara took a few seconds to join me, since she stripped as quickly as she could. Once on the bed, she pushed my arms down and kissed me hard.

  “Time to play, big boy,” she taunted, and then she sat on my face.

  Which led to a wet good time, with her eventually turning around and undoing my pants and playing with my hard toy, completing the balance of a beautiful 69.

  Five days of fun and love and lots and lots of sex. A proper honeymoon.

  That brings us to today, at the pool…

  I climb out of the pool, sensing some attention from ladies around the pool. Strathmore certainly put me on the right path for becoming more muscular, and I joined a gym since we quit the club. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not a huge bodybuilder. But all that exercising and nutritious food has paid off to make my body harder and more cut.

  When I reach my lounge chair next to Tara, I say, “Well, Mrs. Morgan, you’ve created quite a stir around here with those great tits of yours.”

  Tara grins at me. “I beg to differ, Mr. Morgan. They’re not staring at my boobs. They’re staring at your hot ass.”

  I have an urge to jump on top of her, pound her right here. But we’re not at Strathmore. This resort’s pool is merely topless, not a sex club. I need to calm myself.

  Tara offers me a glass of orange-mango juice and says, “Here, cool yourself down, Mr. Morgan. I know what you’re thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?” The juice is wonderfully sweet.

  “A wife knows, Mr. Morgan.”

  Wife. The word is still strange to hear. As is Mrs. Morgan. Even when I say the words, they’re strange to hear. But I’m sure I’ll get used them. After all, it’s only been five days. It feels longer somehow, maybe because we’ve been so busy enjoying each other.

  “What, that word scares you?” Tara has a big grin. She says it again, in slow-motion for greater effect, her lips spreading wide: “Wife.”

  I give a sarcastic laugh. “Hardly, Mrs. Morgan. Wife doesn’t scare me. I was simply trying to cool myself down. As my wife instructed me to. And if you’re not careful, I may fill that mouth with something big and juicy.”

  “A hot dog?”

  “Bigger. Juicier.”

  Tara laughs. “I thought I didn’t have to do that anymore. Now that we’re married, I’m all done.” She slides her palms together, as if dusting off dirt. “I’ve washed my hands clean of blowjobs.”

  “Funny,” I say. “I swore I saw you sucking my dick this morning.”

  “Oh, you were just dreaming.”

  “Then I hope I have that dream every night.”

  Which makes Tara laugh again. “Keep dreaming, pal. You’re not getting that every night. Or every morning. We don’t live at Strathmore.”

  “Do you ever miss it?” I ask. “I know you said you were done with the place, but do you ever catch yourself missing it sometimes?”

  Tara’s face shifts to a more thoughtful expression. “I’d be lying if I said I never miss it. But, yeah, sometimes a pang for the club comes up. And when it does, I always remember why we left. My only regret was maybe we left too abruptly. For you, that is. I wonder if we—I don’t know—went over to Julie’s house and had a last blast with her. Maybe that would’ve changed how we left things.”

  Something I hadn’t thought about before.

  Tara
shrugged. “But maybe something would’ve gone wrong with that. You never really know. You try stuff and see if it works. Not all of it will work, and you have to move on.”

  “Getting pretty deep there, Mrs. Morgan.”

  “And that doesn’t really fit, does it?” Her thoughtful expression turns back to clear happiness. “Because it’s all about fun right now, and not about deep conversations. I’m on my honeymoon with my hot husband. And nothing else matters.”

  My turn to grin. “That’s funny. I’m here on my honeymoon with my hot wife. Imagine that.”

  “Oh, I can imagine that. Easily.”

  We lean together and kiss tenderly. Kissing her has not lost any of its charms. Our first kiss on our first date had electric exhilaration. Our kiss at our wedding ceremony held deep love. Our kiss now holds strength, resolution, gratitude.

  After our kiss, Tara looks at me, her face bright with sunshine, her smile warm as the sun.

  “By the way,” she says, “I’ve found your pick.”

  Reflexively, I look over at a brunette who’s sunbathing on the other side of the pool. Shoulder-length brunette hair. Golden strands here and there. An irrepressibly cute face. The kind of cute face you know would be quick to smile and laugh and would look so sweetly good as it gazes up at you as you lay on her. She has on a one-piece swimsuit today, chocolate brown with light green circles. But she’s worn bikinis on previous days. Nice tits. An ass so firm and tight, you dream about holding it while fucking her.

  I know exactly what Tara means by your pick. She’s referencing our conversation on our first day here, about the possibility of having fun with another couple.

  “My pick?” I ask my wife, whisking my attention to her. “Think you found her, huh?”

  “Yep. Blondie over there.” Tara nods toward across the pool, to another woman than I was looking at. “Blondie, who’s now presenting for everybody.”

  I follow the direction of Tara’s head nod to see a blonde woman tossing something on her lounge chair. I’m guessing it was her bikini top, because she’s topless. Before, she was wearing a bright pink bikini top. I had enjoyed seeing the swells of her cleavage. But now, her girls are out to play. Well, not to play. That’s Strathmore Club talk. This blonde’s tits are out for display.

  They’re a set of great jugs. Not as nice as Julie’s, though. I know, I know—it’s not nice to compare. But seeing a pair of ripe, ample tits makes me think of Julie. I had lusted after Julie’s boobs for years, and once I held them and fucked them, it was a huge event. That memory still replays often in my head, of the first time I fucked her gorgeous tits. I’ve enjoyed Julie’s tits many times, but that first time seared into my mind. The feeling of her plump tits hugging my dick as I fucked them. The look on Julie’s face. The look on Tara’s face as she held Julie’s tits for me. Then my come spurting up. Damn, that was spectacular.

  Comparisons aside, Blondie over there has a great pair. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to knock down her knockers.

  “How do you know she’s my pick?” I ask Tara, who’s smiling at my reaction. She’s told me before that I get loopy when I see great tits.

  “A wife knows, Mr. Morgan.”

  I walked into that one. “Well, she does have some good things going for her.”

  “You’re thinking about fucking her tits, aren’t you?” Tara’s smile turns into more of a smirk. Is she jealous? Maybe.

  “Let’s just say I wouldn’t turn it down if it were offered to me.” I have to confess. There’s no use hiding.

  “We’ll have to see if she offers it. I wouldn’t turn down those tits, either. Since we’re doing one last blowout, why not?”

  I love hearing Tara’s desire for other women. At Strathmore, she had been with lots of other women, and I loved to see Tara suck on nipples and eat out a babe. Something so very sexy about that.

  I watch the busty blonde walk to Lujuria’s pool and sit on the edge. She soaks in the sun and everyone’s admiration. Just as Tara had done—but Tara had loved the attention while she was walking out of the pool to her lounge chair. This blonde is enjoying being smack in the middle of the spotlight, on center stage. Guys all around are gawking at her plump boobs.

  I notice that Blondie has tan lines. Not that her tits are lily white, but there’s a difference from the flesh of her tits to the rest of her tanned skin.

  It was something that had taken me awhile to realize: Members of Strathmore didn’t have tan lines. Tara’s tits used to be the same color as the rest of her skin, but since we quit and went to regular beaches with clothing rules, those tan lines reappeared. Same with me. It was a change from when we were Strathmore members, and we were in our birthday suits getting tanned by the Florida sunshine.

  Blondie has long, straight hair, and she wears cool sunglasses. A guy walks toward her and sits next to her, with his legs also dangling in the pool water. He’s tall and muscular, and he’s making all the women gawk, too. Including Tara.

  “Now I see why you’re interested in that couple,” I say.

  Tara has a little grin as she turns to me and says, “Well, he is nicely built. Reminds me of Derek, but taller.”

  Ah, good, ole Derek. Muscular Derek of the patented standing fucks and standing 69s. I certainly remember seeing him bounce Tara in his trademark moves, and her yelling out with how good it felt.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Tara confesses to my silence. Like I said, there’s no use in us hiding our lusts from each other. “He’s partly why I’m interested. A husband knows, huh?”

  “Sometimes, yeah.”

  One her eyebrows arches up. “But he’s not my first pick for us.”

  “Who then?” I ask.

  “The bartender.”

  “Really? Day shift or night shift?”

  “Day. She’s so fucking hot.”

  I picture the bartender. Her name’s Ayana, and she’s a Jamaican babe who’s always ready with a funny saying. And she’s hot. Sparkling, intelligent eyes. Strong cheekbones. Long hair in tightly woven braids. A musical accent to top it all off. Maybe she punches up her accent for us tourists, maybe not. But it doesn’t really matter—it’s still sexy.

  So, yeah, I can see why Tara picks her. And it’s not a complete surprise that she picks a woman over a man. She’s attracted to both. That way, if I pick the busty blonde over there, Tara will get to enjoy the tall, muscular dude who’s clearly with her. My wife plays the game well.

  “Then let’s do it tonight,” I say. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  A sweet smile. “Yeah, I think I am. I’ve totally loved our time with just us. And the bartender will be a small step. But let’s be honest, okay? If either one of us isn’t into it, let’s stop. Let’s go back to just us for the rest of the honeymoon. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I reply, and we shake on it. “That goes especially for you. Even though you planned this out, I want you to be up front if it’s not working. Okay?”

  She nodded, saying that was okay.

  Because in there was the idea that, if she let me play with toys again, she might not like it. To use her analogy of toys. As much as she wants to bring things—for her—into balance, she may not actually be up for it.

  It was a big step. In the beginning of our honeymoon, we’ve just made love to each other. We’ve made great use of the amenities of our suite, from the big bed, to the bubbling hot tub, to the fancy shower.

  Our favorite spot has been the balcony. We’ve fucked several nights on our balcony. Partition walls separate our balcony from our neighbors, for good privacy. And the view from the balcony is phenomenal. Immediately before us are the grounds of the resort, loaded with lush plants. To the right is the pool area. Beyond those is the beach. And beyond that, the Caribbean Sea stretches on forever.

  The sunsets are magical. The pinks, purples, and reds all blend together as the sun lowers below the sea’s horizon. As we watched this show of nature’s beauty, we rejoic
e in each other’s beauty.

  Our first night, Tara had bent over, holding the railing. Behind her, I licked her pussy and asshole. She fought hard to keep from howling out her bliss that would’ve soared all over the resort. Thankfully, she managed to keep quiet—just grunted out as she had the orgasm. Then I stood and entered her doggy-style, thrusting into her sweet pussy. Both of us watched the sunset in awe. We tried to keep our voices down, but I bet some of our moans and slapping skin carried to other balconies and down to the grounds of the resort. Another evening, I sat on a chair as Tara rode my lap, facing away from me in reverse cowgirl. Yeah, we’re definitely in love with the balcony and that fantastic view.

  Our lovemaking has carried over into mornings, as I put my morning wood to good use. Sometimes, we’ve had nooners as we take a break from the pool to return to our room and fuck ourselves silly.

  But the days haven’t all been about sex. We’ve taken day trips to play tourists, see the area outside of the report. We found it to be beautiful, vibrant, colorful, richly alive. Amid that were places of obvious poverty. We’ve done what we could to help the local economy by purchasing merchandise and eating at restaurants. And we’ve been rewarded with spectacular food. Utterly fresh and delicious seafood and grilled jerk chicken.

  We’ve had a great deal of fun just being goofy and laughing and exploring the area. Funny, too, how serious conversations have come up. Like a couple days ago, Tara asked out of the blue when I thought we should buy a house.

  I was struck by the question, because we’ve been so busy lately with our minds on other things. For many months, we were focused on being swingers at Strathmore. Then after that, we focused on planning the wedding and honeymoon (Tara more on that, of course). Having those things wrapped up has opened time and energy to think about our live together after the honeymoon.

  They make for an odd mixture, though. Chatting about our future and about trying one last time as swingers.