The Marina

A weekend getaway. That’s all it was supposed to be. A chance to reconnect with lifelong girlfriends without the use of social media or our phones. No contact with our spouses or partners was permitted. In fact, we put our phones in the hotel safe as soon as we arrived. I admit feeling the momentary tug of missing my husband and not being able to stay in touch with him. But he knew this was the arrangement. It was the requirement every year when we ladies got together. But this year was different.

Jeff and I had been exploring the opening of our marriage for just over a year. Though we still have a lot to learn and a lot of growth yet to come, we enjoyed it, a lot! But we had never indulged apart from the other. We didn’t know for sure if we were ready to not be in the same room while having sex with others. After several lengthy discussions, Jeff said, “You have a green light. If the opportunity presents itself, you can be with someone else without me. It’s okay.” I felt my knees weaken with these words and my stomach churn with anxiety, excitement.

The idea of a secret rendezvous without my girlfriends discovering my newfound freedom felt terrifying. As I grabbed my bags to leave, I stopped and reached into the cabinet where we kept the condoms. I felt their sleek covers and thought about the promise of fun they held inside. I wondered if Jeff would notice. I have a green light, I reminded myself. It felt strange to think of having sex with a stranger and without Jeff present. But the more I thought about the possibility, I felt a thrill rush through me. The thought of retelling the story of fucking a stranger to my husband, who enjoyed me experiencing other men, would be incredibly hot. I grabbed a handful of condoms, just in case, there was a story to be told.

Once our schoolgirl, alcohol-infused giggling subsided and the general catching-up was finished that night, my girlfriends and I got ready to go out on the town. By “on the town” I mean the quaint little lake-side town we annually invaded was about as wild as a book club reading self-help books. The town had some touristy, fun little shops but they were never terribly busy. The town’s nightlife was sleepy at best, yet we always came back. We came back because we didn’t need the distractions of the city or the noise of too many people, which left little opportunity to meet a stranger so that I could bring a story home for my husband. No, this place was our getaway from reality and the hustle that we all had to live. Our goal had always been to get together, party, and pass-out. Nothing more. Except for me. Except for this year. This year I had a secret mission. This year I had tucked condoms into my handbag, wore a revealing skirt, and I had ditched the panties. I was so turned on by the idea of sneaking off with some stranger behind one of the few bars in town for nothing more than a quick fuck session before my friends realized I was gone that I had to keep crossing and squeezing my legs to fight off my need for cock. Unfortunately, the excitement outweighed the opportunities. I made eye-contact with exactly one man who was so bleary-eyed that, although I’m sure he would have tried to fuck me, I wasn’t sure he could stand upright long enough to follow me outside the bar. With night number one a bust, I walked disappointedly back to our rented house and watched my girlfriends pass out. I retreated to the bathroom where I hiked up my skirt and rubbed my pussy while imagining fucking someone, anyone behind the bar. I came so hard that I wasn’t sure if I’d been heard. Hearing their drunken snores when I quietly walked to my room indicated that I was safe, and I tucked myself into bed hoping for a better chance the next night.

Unwilling to wear the same outfit a second night I bought a tight little mini dress that fit snug on my hips and tits at a local shop the next day. I kept fantasizing about some strange, rugged fisherman type with strong hands, an unshaven face, and a panty-dropping smile that I could coax away from the bar. All-day long I felt my pussy throbbing with anticipation. I got even more aroused at the thought of Jeff fucking me while telling him what had happened. We always fucked after being with others. We loved telling each other about our experience. I had to find a way to fuck someone, somehow. But even if I could, I realized, getting away with it was going to be difficult. My girlfriends were like vultures. They kept circling and never left me alone long enough to flirt in any meaningful way with anyone. So, sneaking off, as desperately as I wanted to try to have some stranger-sex for the first time in my life, seemed impossible.

It was about midnight on that second night when the bar called The Marina got really busy. I wondered if the bar had ever had so many people in it at once. A wedding reception had ended, and the party had moved from the reception venue to the bar. To my extreme excitement, the place was full of revelers who may have had a bit too much to drink and were allowing their inhibitions to slip away. Clothing seemed to be littering the backs of chairs and in corners of the bar. I mean nobody was naked but some of the tuxedo-clad men were shirtless or unbuttoned and several women were wearing more comfortable, revealing attire. I hungrily scanned the room with renewed hope. I reached into my purse and felt for the condoms. I decided to keep my purse with me at all times, just in case.

I made my way towards the bar for a drink and to investigate possible “sneak-away” partners. There were more choices than I had first realized. I felt a few of the men eye-fucking me hard as I walked through the crowd. After being in the swinger lifestyle for the past year, I had re-learned what those looks were. Being married a long time can dull your awareness of others’ interests. I loved feeling their eyes on me, and I returned gazes to a few that interested me. At the bar I felt my throat clench and my knees weaken at the smile of this beautiful, rugged-faced man with salt-and-pepper hair and an unshaven goatee. His eyes looked straight into mine and it felt like he was crawling around in my mind for a sign that I wanted him. I smiled nervously and ordered a drink with my voice shaking. I was about to introduce myself to him when my girlfriend, Scarlette, appeared between him and me, completely shattering my opportunity. It didn’t help that Scarlette was a gorgeous redhead wearing a bright yellow tank top and white cut-off shorts that showed off her petite frame. And her fucking tits were maddeningly perfect for a woman her age. I admit that even I loved seeing them naked whenever we got together. They were magnificent. I looked nothing like Scarlette with my dirty-blonde hair lightly littered with stray white hairs and a body I kept in as good a shape as I could with a lot of effort. But Scarlette? No, she easily maintained her figure and garnered attention all the time. She quickly got the man talking to her and I wondered if she had gotten between me and the man on purpose. I wondered if it was her version of a female cock-block.

“He’s really cute!” she said as we walked back to our table.

“Yah, I guess so,” I said trying to not appear too perturbed by her interruption.

“Too bad we’re not single, am I right?” Scarlette laughed.

“Right. Too bad.” I was annoyed by the fact that I could have gotten with him under the right circumstances. In my head I was screaming I am married but I’m allowed to fuck him so get outta my way! Scarlette became quiet, which was unusual for her. I wondered if I had spoken my thoughts out loud. Her silence was curious to me. It was as though she were in thought, hesitating to say something that she just couldn’t reveal.

Finally, she mumbled, “Well what happens at the Marina, stays at the Marina…like Vegas. Right?” She said with a giggle. She glanced at me and then her eyes darted away from mine when I tried to look closer at her. Before I could respond we were back at the table drinking with our friends. I tried to make eye-contact with Scarlette, but she seemed to be avoiding me now. Odd.