The wedding had been near perfect. The weather held off, and we enjoyed the mostly sunny June day in a beautiful outdoor garden with the smell of flowers and the sounds of buzzing bees. The breeze had been gentle and consistent, the four-piece combo was not too loud, our soloist hit every high note, and our vows had been well-received.

Of course, the most beautiful part of the ceremony was my bride, Willow Ingram, nee Garver. She turned twenty-two last month, on her Stanford graduation day, and her youthful beauty and energy permeated the entire day. She’s a stunning girl, and if she wears tall heels, we can dance cheek to cheek despite me being 6’2”. There is a powerful bundle of energy packed into her statuesque frame, and our wedding day highlighted it.

She woke early, skipped breakfast, went to the spa for treatments, wrapped presents for her bridesmaids and maid of honor, skipped lunch, made phone calls, dressed for the ceremony, performed her part flawlessly despite my flubs, looked fresh and relaxed despite the normal worries and tension that accompany the ceremony itself, was radiant in all the pictures, had more than a couple of glasses of champagne, danced until after midnight at the reception, and was wanting more after two rounds of conjugal duty in the honeymoon suite. Her motor always revved in the red zone and often left me panting as I tried to keep up.

And all that while still being the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She’s so beautiful and smart that she could have had her pick, and there were plenty on the hunt, but she agreed to marry me. I’ve had more than my share of ‘experiences’, mainly because I’m six years older than her with an established job that brings in money for me to wine and dine. I don’t have movie-star looks, but many girls return my glance and give me a second look later that turns into a wink and smile.

In my heart, I think it is my love for her that swayed her to say yes. I don’t believe it would be possible for any person to love another person any more than I love her, and her physical beauty is only part of it. That part is what every man notices first, however, and that part is often jaw-dropping.

She has hair so blonde it’s almost white, especially after bleaching in the sun, and its color melded nicely with her off-white wedding dress. Her eyes are large and emerald green and her face is as gorgeous as that of any movie star, but it is her body that commands the most attention.

Her measurements are 35-21-34, and both her firm D-cup breasts and her protruding derriere appear larger because her waist is so tiny. She is well aware of the gaggle of eyes that track her wherever she goes, and while she doesn’t pander to them, she doesn’t resent them either.

What she does resent is vulgarity, especially concerning sex. We ‘do it’ rather than fuck, her vagina is not a cunt or a twat, but she has finally allowed me to call it a pussy, and my penis is not a cock or a prick, but usually a ‘thing’. In fact, almost any profanity is taboo. She doesn’t like hearing them, and she definitely won’t speak them.

I’d been fully sated after getting off twice before sleep in our first romp as a married couple. She woke me and we went once more, but my bundle of energy was still groping and hoping when we dressed before check out from the honeymoon suite the next morning. An afternoon spent opening presents and relaxing at her parents’ house in Santa Barbara was followed by dinner there, a few hands of bridge, and then a night in what was now one of their guest bedrooms.

We’d spent a couple nights in that bedroom before our wedding, the one that had been Willow’s all her life, but those were uncomfortable nights for me despite her parents’ consent and our formal engagement. Our sex had been clandestine and surreptitious then, but we were married now, and my mind convinced me that we could make noise having sex in their house, so we did while getting sated again. Twice.

My beautiful bride’s father didn’t mention the banging headboard as he drove us to the airport very early the next morning for our flight to Miami, but he did ask, “Are you okay, honey? I heard moaning last night.”

She knew he knew, and there was a bit of attitude in her reply, “I’m fine, Daddy.”

She was moaning last night, but not from pain. He knew perfectly well, and his wink at me confirmed it.

Our booking was on an adults-only Carnival cruise, leaving Miami on Monday and returning the following Monday. It was not the typical weekend-to-weekend schedule, and it was advertised as one that was usually less crowded. The check-in seemed to confirm it and we left port at 3:30 PM, right on schedule.

It was early evening, after safety protocol and getting settled into our luxury suite, before we were seated at an assigned table with four other honeymoon couples. They were all under thirty, like us (although I barely made it), and all friendly and cheerful.

Joey, of William and Joey, suggested that we each tell a bit about ourselves, and she volunteered to go first. She couldn’t have left much out, and related that they were on the cruise because it was a wedding present from William’s parents and that she hoped they would take a number of vacations before they were saddled with kids. She didn’t leave much for William to reveal, and he was finished quickly.

Every couple mentioned that the cruise was a wedding present from parents, and there were no surprises until Talia, of Talia and Jeremy, disclosed that she had just found out a week ago that she was pregnant. She also revealed, while looking at Joey, that they had tried to get her pregnant, and that she didn’t feel that she would be ‘saddled’.

During Willow’s turn, she said that the cruise was my wedding gift to her, and that she hoped she would get pregnant during our cruise. I followed by stating that if she did, I couldn’t think of a better wedding present to me, and that I wouldn’t feel ‘saddled’ either.

We sat with Talia and Jeremy for the stage show later that evening, and I felt like we would have friends to share experiences with for the balance of the cruise. The only scheduled time we would see them would be at dinner, when the ship was back underway after a day in port somewhere, but we had a couple we could share adventures with.

We woke the next morning and had a full day at sea, and we used it exploring the ship. We found the dance venues and looked them over, we used both the gym and running track, we got whumped in a three-hour game of bridge with Talia and Jeremy, and we swam in both swimming pools. We insured the beer was cold and the wine was aged at each stop in our exploration, but left anything stronger on the bar’s back shelf until we went dancing later.

It was exactly the relaxation we’d hoped for, and my beautiful Willow thanked me often for what was my wedding present to her, although the relaxing cruise was also a gift to myself. That first full day at sea let us became comfortable and familiar with the cruise ship, which of course meant pulling my bride into a few niches for a quick grope and snog.

By the time we went to bed, we’d danced in one of the two live band venues and downed so many martinis that it would have been impossible to pass a sobriety test. My bundle of energy again decided that I needed to go a second round before Mr. Sandman could grab me.

The next morning found us moored in Grand Cayman, and we spent the morning shopping and seeing the town, but we spent the afternoon on the beach. The sun bore down, but the temperature was mid-80’s and the water just cool enough to be refreshing. Carnival caters to party-hardy young adults, and the group of us on the beach did. There were several topless girls, lots of skimpy bikinis and Speedos, alcohol was flowing, and the smell of pakalolo drifted.

Despite her two-piece suit being relatively modest, Willow attracted attention like she was nude. I made sure her sensitive skin was sufficiently covered in sunscreen each time she came out of the water, and that simple action induced a surprising reaction. She’d always been a tiger in bed, but this was the first time her arousal indicators blinked while we were surrounded by other people. I decided to push the blinking buttons a bit to see where her red line was, and the next time she came out of the water, I started pushing and probing for that threshold.

I had her lay on her stomach first, and I did her neck, shoulders, and arms as usual, but then I unfastened her top before doing her back. When I started putting the creamy sunblock on her lower back, I let my fingers slip under the suit and caress the upper part of her ass. She just wiggled, and the only sound was a soft moan.

I moved to her feet and legs, and when I reached her upper thighs, I hunted for the line again. I decided to call it the Willow Line. I squirted a dollop on the back of each leg, but then used both hands on each thigh to rub it in. My hand lightly bumped her mound on each upward stroke, and I finally slipped my hand under her suit to caress her bare ass as far as my fingers would reach.

I looked around and was unsurprised to see an audience, but still hadn’t discovered the Willow Line.

“Turn over so I can do your front.”

“Fasten my top.”

Where was that line?

“Just hold it. My hands are too greasy.”

My beautiful bride didn’t just roll over. She was using both hands to hold her top as she got on her knees first and looked around. There were side boob bulges next to the hanging straps and a slight smile on her face before she turned to sit and then lay on her back. She was getting off on the watching eyes. I was too, and my response was surging and throbbing.

I knelt by her head, and she didn’t miss the opportunity to check my primary arousal indicator. Her top was just laying on top of her moguls, and my hands first did her neck and shoulders before heading under her top to groom the slopes. I squeezed each responsive breast and lightly pinched each nipple, and when I pulled my hands away, her top was askew, being dragged upward as I removed my hands. She was breathing hard and her nipples were still barely covered and fully engorged, but she didn’t try to rearrange her top.

I moved to straddle her legs. A dollop on her stomach first led my slippery hands north, and they were again under her unfastened top. I bent down to whisper while my hands still squeezed.

“They want to see your breasts, hon.”

“Ohh god, Jace, I’m so turned on.”

“They want to see that too, Willow. So do I.”

A quiet moan was the only complaint I heard as I slid her top off and laid it beside her. Her Victoria’s Secret breasts were available for inspection, and there were plenty of volunteers for the job.

I knelt beside her, and my hands went south this time. She was biting her lower lip and her hands were squeezing the towel she was on when my right hand slid into her bikini bottom. I passed pubic hair and didn’t stop until I struck oil.

It was a gusher.

I easily slid a finger in and pumped to insure the well was operational, but didn’t overstay my welcome. I moved on to her feet and legs. Doing her upper thighs from the front was a clone of doing them from the back, but this time she spread her legs to let me kneel between them. I used both hands on each thigh in turn, and each upward stroke bumped her puffed-up mound. On the last stroke on each leg, one hand slipped under the elastic around her legs to find her magic button.

I didn’t finish the job, but I hadn’t found that danger-zone Willow Line either. She definitely noticed my response to her exposure, and when she sat up, I whispered in her ear.

“They can see your nipples are hard, hon. They know you’re turned on by letting them see.”

She looked at me, and then whispered in my ear.

“What about you? I see it. You like letting them see me too, don’t you, Jace?”

Excitement was protruding on both of us, and she was looking at my stiffness when I answered.

“Yeah, just stay like this. Let them dream and drool all day.”

“I’m drooling too, honey.”

She was drooling from different lips

“I felt it. It’s too bad this isn’t a clothing-optional beach.”

“Mmmm … are there any?”

She didn’t put her top back on for the rest of the afternoon, and the erect nubs on the end were only slightly due to the cool water. I made sure they didn’t burn, and each application was eye-witnessed by interested members of my own gender. The Willow Line was well beyond my initial guess, still undiscovered.

After her display, which was foreplay for both of us, we couldn’t wait for bedtime and indulged ourselves in a late afternoon romp in our suite. She was especially engaged, and we were late for dinner.

As soon as we arrived at our table, Joey of Joey and William commented, “We saw you on the beach, and I can guess why you’re late.”

Willow smiled and nodded, then asked, “Why didn’t you come over and say hello?”

William answered, “Joey wouldn’t let us.” His bride elbowed him, but he defended himself, “Well, it’s true. You were topless.”

Joey looked at me, “You’re okay with your wife being topless?”

I smiled, “More than okay.”

My admission brought everybody else into the conversation, but Joey raised the stakes, “How did that feel, Willow, being almost naked like that?”

I answered for my bride, “She was turned on,” I paused before truth escaped, “So was I, and you’re right, Joey, we had to satisfy ourselves and that’s why we’re late.”

When I finished, Joey added, “Tell them how you put the sunscreen on.”

I went with it, “She has fair skin. I don’t want her to get burned.”

Joey observed, “They were pretty white, but you put plenty on and rubbed it in thoroughly.”

“Like I said. We were both turned on.”

Joey laughed, “You put it in places that never see the sun.”

Willow finally came to my rescue, “I loved every place my wonderful husband put it.”

Jeremy, the bridge-playing husband, fake groaned, “Uuunnngghh … I’m sorry I missed it, Willow.”

Willow smiled back, “There are a few more beaches, Jeremy.”

I was pretty sure that Talia, his pregnant wife, and probably the other wives too, weren’t thrilled by my beautiful bride’s teasing response. After that, there wasn’t as much laughter as the night before, but the rest of the dinner was talk about normal things, including what we were going to do the next day. Nobody else was on our scuba trip.

Our cruise ship was docked in Mahogany Bay the next morning, but we were on a different vessel shortly after docking. Our transfer boat seated about twenty, and we were seated directly opposite a guy who looked like he belonged in the Mr. Universe contest. I’m 6’2”, and he was at least a couple inches taller than me, but his height didn’t impress me as much as his build. He was shirtless, and his muscles were tight and bulging. This guy spent a lot of time in the gym.

He looked at Willow and extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Brock. Have you ever scuba’d this reef?”

“No, I’ve only scuba’d in California, and not much of that.”

“This is one of the best reefs in the world, really large. You’ll love it.”

“That’s what we read. I can’t wait.”

He looked at me, “I’d be happy to stay with you, just in case.”

I replied, “Thanks, I haven’t done it much either. By the way, I’m Jace and this is Willow. We’re on our honeymoon.”

I shook his offered hand, “Nice to meet you. I was hoping I would get a chance. I saw you on the beach yesterday.”

Willow looked at me and I shrugged.

The outing was now a little more amped. His eyes had been two of those watching my hands arouse and expose my bride. The rest of the trip to the reef was just ‘where are you from?’ and ‘what do you do?’ chit chat, but just before entering the water, Brock upped the ante.

“Are you going topless again?”

It was a bold question to ask a bride on her honeymoon, particularly so with her new husband standing right beside her.

She looked at me, “Honey?”

There was arousal in her eyes, hoping for the answer I provided, “As soon as we get in the water.”

His boldness ratcheted, “Why wait? Stand up and turn around, Willow. I’ll undo you.” She looked. I shrugged. He took off her top and I could barely hear him whisper in her ear, “Oooh la la.”

Willow just smiled, but when he dropped his shorts to reveal a Speedo, he also revealed an impressive bulge that my bride definitely noticed. It was the muscle provided by genetics, and time in the gym had nothing to do with it.

He was proud of it, and he almost posed by putting one leg up on the bench to take off his sandal. It definitely outlined his length, and I watched her eyes lock on.

His ‘assistance’ continued, “Let me help you get your gear on.”

As he ‘helped’ her get scuba’d up, there was contact between his hands and her nubs a couple of times. It didn’t look accidental, but wasn’t blatant either, so I stayed silent.

As soon as we were in the water, Willow headed down and we followed. It was easy to see her camel toe in the suit from the rear, and Brock made no attempt to lead.

We spent half an hour on that reef seeing many schools of beautiful fish, and we even saw one six-foot shark cruise at us. Brock gallantly swam between the shark and my bride, and she hugged his back in appreciation as it passed within just a couple of feet.

He also had an expensive underwater camera, and after using it on fish for so long, he pointed it at Willow. She took her mouthpiece out and smiled as he took a couple of my bride and then gestured that he’d like to take one of Willow and I together. After two snaps, he handed me the camera and swam next to Willow. I took a couple of them while he had his arm around her waist.

There was even a little more contact as he ‘helped’ Willow out of her gear, and the touching was more frequent and pronounced. I found myself growing, and it got worse when, at his request, she stayed topless and sat next to him. He stayed in his Speedo while I sat on her other side. It was obvious from her engorged nipples that she was enjoying his interest. He was funny, educated, athletic, and interested in everything about my wife, and it wasn’t long before I was no longer a participant in the conversation.

They talked non-stop, including a few whispers from up close in her ear, until just before we got back to the ship, where his boldness resurfaced.

“I enjoyed meeting you, Willow. I hope we can talk some more.”

He hugged her tight for longer than was Emily Post acceptable, but I answered for her.

“Why don’t you exchange numbers?”

Willow’s eyebrows raised when she looked at me, but then there was eye contact between her and Brock while they exchanged phones and typed in their phone numbers.

Just before getting off the transfer boat, I handed Willow her top and Brock reached to take it from her, “Let me help you with that.”

Before he was done helping her, he helped himself to a serving of handful of breast, and I neither said or did anything about it.

As soon as we were back in our room, I kissed her and pulled her tight. She said, “I’m sorry we ignored you, Jace.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“He was nice.”

“More than nice.”

“He’s very handsome.”

“He loved watching you.”

“I know.”

“You loved it.” I used both hands to pull her ass tight against me.

She stopped to really look before she answered, “You’re really hard, honey.”

“You really connected, Willow.”

“You’re not upset?”

“You can feel it.”

“You like knowing he wants me.”

“Did you see how big he is?”

“He’s a big man. Strong too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, I saw it.”

“And …?”

“It was growing. I thought it might come out of his suit.”

“He touched your breasts.”

“More than once.”

“The last time, when he fastened your top, he was obvious.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Neither did you. I think you liked it.”

“I was surprised.”

“You should see him again.”

“Only if you’re with me.”

“No. Alone.”

“You want me to be alone with him, Jace?”

"Yes.”

“We’d better talk.”

The Willow Line wasn’t just for Willow. How far would I let her go before her line was beyond the Jace Line? So far, neither of us had found it.

She slid my trunks down and off and had me lie on the bed. Her eyes were locked on mine, and she held my throb in her hands while she licked it from bottom to top. After lapping the drop from the tip of my arousal, she led me down a different bridal path.

“I just plighted my troth to you.”

“And I to you.”

She engulfed me in her mouth, and pushed me into her throat. My ass lifted and my hands grabbed the bedspread, hoping for more. It arrived.

“I just promised to love you ‘til death do us part.”

“As did I.”

Back inside, this time with suction and motion, and two full strokes before she again lifted her head to look at me.

“I just promised to cherish you every day of my life.”

“And I, you.”

She knew where to take me, and I was getting close. She stopped slurping.

“In sickness and in health.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“For better or worse.”

“Yes, so did I.”

I wasn’t sure where our conversation was going, but I knew what my goal was otherwise, and my beautiful wife bobbed for a few more apples (in sauce form) before stopping and looking me in the eye.

“And I promised to love, honor, and … obey.”

And then I got it. I understood what this was about.

“You did … I’ll help.”

She stood and removed her suit. My god, she’s so beautiful, and I loved watching her straddle me and sink down.

“Jace Ingram, do you want Brock to be with your lawfully wedded wife without you?”

“I do.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is to leave your wife alone with Brock?”

“I do.”

“Do you know Brock might kiss your wife if you leave her alone with him?”

“I do.”

“Do you know Brock might touch your wife if you leave her alone with him?”

“I do, everywhere.”

“Do you want Brock to touch your wife everywhere?”

“I do, on her bare skin.”

“You want Brock to touch your naked wife?”

“I do, while he’s naked too.”

It was like wedding vows all over, but the subject was not one that would arise in any church. It didn’t matter, I was teetering, and my ‘I do’s’ revealed my deepest, darkest fantasy. She wasn’t just along for the ride, obeying my wish, and her own libido surfaced.

“Jace, do you want your wife to touch Brock’s thing?”

“I do. And it’s not a thing. It’s a cock, a big cock. Say it, Willow.”

She hesitated, “You want Brock to be naked with your naked wife when she touches his … his big, hard … thing?”

“I do.” I smiled. She just couldn’t say it.

She looked, really looked, before the big one.

“Jace Ingram, do you want Brock to make love to your lawfully wedded wife?”

“No, I want him to fuck my lawfully wedded wife.”

“You want his big, hard … thing to be where yours is right now?”

“Uunnnggghhh … I do.”

It was exquisite, and the pleasure spikes rolled on and on. I filled her womb with the swimmers we were both hoping would impregnate her on our honeymoon.

She didn’t cross the ultimate pleasure threshold, but she was fully wound. I basked and she hunched, hoping to get there. She was still unsatisfied, and after a minute or so, there was a question posed by her raised eyebrows. She was still unsure, since I was in a state of lust when she grilled me, so she finally asked one more question.

“Jace Ingram, do you promise to still love and honor your lawfully wedded wife if she obeys your wishes?”

“I do, and I also promise to remain faithful to you.”

“That doesn’t sound fair, but I’m glad. I don’t like to think of you with another woman.”

“I have a question for you. Do you, Willow Ingram, promise to obey your lawfully wedded husband’s wish to let Brock fuck you?”

She looked into my eyes and smiled, “I do.”

She was still very aroused, still searching for that bridge that took her into marital bliss, and that edge made her more willing to obey since her desires matched my orders perfectly.

“Let’s talk about how to do it.”

We decided that she couldn’t just knock on his door and say, “Will you fuck me”, although that probably would have worked. We both wanted it to be more and it had to be more subtle, so we decided she had to meet him somewhere, and that somewhere should include a romantic atmosphere. When she mentioned that he said he loved to dance, that opened the curtain and the play began.

My gorgeous bride needed reassurance, “Jace, are you sure you’re OK with letting your lawfully wedded wife go on a public date with another man on her honeymoon?”

“I am.”

“Other people will see me with a man who isn’t my husband.”

“They will.”

“Some of those people might know he’s not my husband, and you are.”

“That’s a possibility.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m cheating.”

“If it happens, I’ll tell them you weren’t.”

“And you know how it will end?”

“I do.”

I took her phone and she watched what I typed, Hello Brock, I really enjoyed meeting and talking with you today. My husband is tired and he said he would appreciate it if you would take me out dancing tonight.

I asked, “Should I hit send?”

Her answer wasn’t an answer, it was more grilling, “You’re sure you know what this means?”

“I do.”

“You want your wife to be his date?”

“I do.”

“He’ll want to take me to his room. You want him to take your wife back to his room?”

“I do.”

“You want him to do to your wife what we just did? On our honeymoon?”

“What did we just do, Willow?”

“We made love, Jace.”

“No, love is too complex. What we did is raw, more basic. What did we do, Willow? Say it.”

“We … we … I can’t, Jace.”

“What were you thinking about while we fucked?”

“I’m sorry, honey. I was thinking about him.”

“Thinking about him doing what?”

“What we did … about doing it with your wife.”

“Not ‘doing it’. I want him to fuck my wife. Does my wife want that too?”

She really looked, deeply looked, before whispering, “She does.”

”Push send then.”

She did, and his answer came within a minute.

I’d told her several times during the almost two years we dated, that if she was ever tempted, I would be okay with it. She was young and beautiful, and guys did try all the time. I told her she had a pass and that I didn’t expect her to always be able to resist, especially since she was so passionate and loved doing it so much. There was also an element of fairness. I’d had plenty of playmates, and I was only her third. Truth be told, I’d hoped she would use that pass so I could hear about it, and finally she was ready to redeem it.

They had several back-and-forth texts, including one exchange at dinner. I read his and helped with her flirtatious replies. She still hadn’t peaked from our afternoon dalliance, and her edge was magnified by his texts and my encouragement.

One of my encouragements was for her to dress sexy, and I helped her select the bra and panty set she’d bought for only me to see. I hadn’t seen her wear them yet, and she said she would prefer to let Brock be the first to see her wearing them. They were sheer and skimpy, made to entice, but she put them on in the bathroom with the door closed and came out fully dressed.

Fully dressed meaning her erogenous zones were covered, but not much else. I alone selected her sexiest dress, a tight micro-mini, black, low-cut, enticement that would leave little doubt in his mind as to the outcome. She also wore her four-inch black spike stilettos.

Before she left, I had one more encouragement, “Don’t hold back. Let yourself go.”

It was nearly 8:30 PM when I watched my bride walk down the corridor toward the dance venue where she was going to meet the man who was going to be her first extramarital affair. I doubted if there were many honeymoons that would include such a precocious adultery, especially one by the bride with her groom’s encouragement and assistance.

As I watched her ass sway as she walked away, I thought she had never looked sexier.

I asked her to text me when she could to keep me apprised, but I’d been disappointed until just after 10:30 when I got my first one. No bra. He’s been touching. Good kisser.

I wanted more. Where are you?

No answer. What had I done? Would she leave me for him? He was a stud – confident, handsome, strong, bold, big, and hungry. My jealousy flag rose to the top of the pole, and my deepest, darkest fantasy receded because of it.

I couldn’t just sit, so I went to the cigar lounge to have a Corona and a Cohiba. I fidgeted and couldn’t keep my mind off of what was happening. After just a few sips and a few puffs, I gave up and went to the casino. It was just as bad, but she finally sent a new text around 11:15 while I was there.

William and Joey are here. No panties. His finger is in me right now.

Are you letting him see what you’re typing?

He’s telling me what to text. I was starting my reply when her text continued, He says to tell you my cunt is wet, that he likes how I’m stroking his big cock, and that he’s going to fuck me real soon.

I’d never been able to get her to say fuck, cock or cunt, and now, within less than three hours, she was saying them for him.

I hated myself, Where are you?

No answer again. I think she was afraid I might try to take her away if I found them. She was right. I decided that letting Willow Switch was a really bad idea.

I folded my poker hand. I went looking for her, first in the venue where they agreed to meet, and then at the other dance venues. They weren’t in any of them.

I went back to our suite, constantly berating myself for being so stupid. It was 1:30 when I got another text.

Coming back.

I heard them in the corridor, but when they got to the room she didn’t open the door. I went to the peephole and they were kissing. When they stopped, I saw them talking and heard voices but the door made the sounds unintelligible. She looked at him, but then nodded. She turned so he could unzip her, and then she stood against the facing wall, directly opposite the peephole, and slid her shoulder straps sideways. The top of her dress fell to her waist. He whispered again, and she shimmied as she let the dress fall to the floor. She was wearing the black, lacy, sheer bra and panty set, and he held his phone pointing the camera end at her.

She was essentially naked because her lingerie was so see-through, but he must have told her to take them off too. She did as I saw the camera’s flash several times, but then he put it in his pocket and started to kiss her again. I watched his hands grope my bride’s breasts and then saw him insert two fingers inside my favorite piece of real estate in the world.

It only lasted for thirty seconds or so. He pulled back so I had the complete picture of a turned-on Willow. He let me look for a few seconds before he picked up her clothes and knocked on the door. He put his face right in front of the peephole and waited. I did too, for about fifteen seconds, and then opened the door. He handed me her clothes before turning to kiss Willow and then head back down the corridor.

She was naked in the hall, and the tears poured out as she sobbed, “I’m sorry, honey. So sorry.”

I helped her into the room and then held her without saying anything for at least thirty seconds, trying to absorb her sorrow and pain. The only way to absolve it was to remove her guilt.

I tried, “Whatever it is, it’s OK.”

“Are … are you terribly mad?”

“Did you do what I asked you to do?”

“I drank too much, Jace ...”

“So you did?”

“Yes … more than that.”

“I want to hear it.”

It was only seconds later when it finally dawned on her. I’d been holding her tight against it since she fell into my arms, but my arousal eventually seeped through her guilt.

“You’re hard, honey.” She caught on, “From watching us?”

“Yes.”

“He thought you might be. That’s why he made me show you.”

“You liked it.”

“He’s so bold, Jace.”

“You liked doing what he told you to do.”

“I would have never done it if he hadn’t.”

The sobbing was over and she was hunching against me. I stepped back to take off her dress and shoes, then stripped myself.

The catechism resumed in bed. My hands abetted her confession, and I took advantage of the aroused state he’d induced just minutes before in the corridor.

“Start when you first met him tonight.”

“Oh, Jace, he wore a suit and tie, very formal. He handed me a corsage and when he pinned it on, his fingers on one hand went inside my dress, touching my breast.”

“Inside your bra?”

“Yes, his fingernails touched my nipple. He copped a feel within seconds of meeting.”

I used my own hands to pinch her nipples, one of which he’d touched to start their date, and both of which he’d touched to end it, “I always wondered if that would work when I pinned on a corsage at prom.”

“I did too, but my dad was always watching.”

“So he was pretty classy. Very considerate with the corsage, but quickly letting you know what he wanted.”

“I smiled at him, Jace, to let him know I wanted it too.”

“That’s why you went.”

“It turned into more.”

“He’s an alpha. Dominant, bold, commanding. Is that it?”

“I liked it. It was the second dance when I took my bra off.”

“At his request?”

“More like an order. During our first slow dance, he unzipped me a couple inches and unhooked it.”

“You took it off on the dance floor?”

“Yes. You’ve seen me take it off while my top keeps me covered, so I did it like that. We finished the dance with me holding my bra in my hand.”

“So everybody knew you were braless?”

“How could they not?”

“What did he say?”

“He said I have beautiful breasts, and it was a shame to cover them with anything, let alone two things. It’s with my panties in my purse.”

“Is he a good dancer?”

“The best I’ve ever danced with.”

“People watched.”

“Most of the crowd.”

“Anything but dancing?”

“Yes, honey, a lot more.”

“Like?”

“Unzipping my dress down to my panties. His hand was on my skin in back. All over it. He left it unzipped all night.”

“You fought shoulder straps all night then?”

“Not much. When he moved them away, I let him.”

“Did he kiss you while dancing?”

“From the first dance.”

“Felt you?”

“Only my breasts and my bottom until just before I texted you about my panties.”

“People watched?”

“I liked it, Jace. You told me to let go, and I did.”

“They saw him feel your naked breasts?”

“Most of the night.”

“Your ass?”

“All night too. Sometimes inside my panties with my dress raised in back.”

“And finger you?”

“Hardly at all on the dance floor. The manager told us he couldn’t allow it, so we decided to go. It wasn’t long after I texted you.”

“Did you touch him?”

“He was hard all night. He pulled my bottom against it early on, but I only touched him with my hand later, in the booth. Right before I texted you.”

“Unzipped?”

“Mmm … it’s really big, Jace. Really big.”

“You said William and Joey were there. Did they see all this too?”

“From only two booths away. You told me to let go, so I did.”

“I’ll have to explain it to them tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’m sure they thought I was cheating.”

“You texted that he was fingering your cunt and that you were stroking his cock. You’ve never used those words before.”

“I didn’t then. He was using my phone to text you, just like you used my phone to text him.”

“So you still won’t use the dirty words?”

She looked embarrassed, “I hate them, honey. He used them and I said yes and agreed with him when he did, but I never said them.”

“So he talked about his big cock fucking your wet cunt and you told him you liked it when he used those words?”

“Those words and many more, honey. I was being nasty, and his use of nasty words seemed to fit. I did like it, Jace.”

The fact that his use of raw language turned her on triggered my twitch. My hands had been busy doing what her date’s hands had done just minutes before, but I was ready to do what her date had done just before that. I rolled on top and inserted the stalk that was being fertilized with Miracle Gro Confession. I could hardly feel the walls of the orifice that was usually tight, but that was just what I needed because I was already so twitchy. My stroke was slow and as deep as I can go.

“You left the bar with your dress unzipped and without any underwear. What happened next?”

“We walked outside on the way to his room. He stopped me several times to kiss and touch … oohhh god ... once with my dress around my waist like you just saw.”

“Anybody see?”

“Of course, honey ... that’s why he made me do it ... he made me hold it for two college boys.”

“Did they say anything?”

“No, but they smiled back ... oohh god, honey … it was hot ... Brock made me smile at them while he fingered me.”

“Anybody else?”

“No, but they followed us … and … ooohh, honey .... Brock stripped me in the corridor.”

“They saw you naked?”

“Yes, he made me face them … mmm, I liked it, Jace … I smiled at them … they took photos … oohh, honey ... I liked it ... you told me to let go, so I did.”

It was the third time she reminded me of my last advice before she walked down the hall on the way to her first extramarital date and adultery. Well, that was what I said, and apparently I married a girl who knows how to fully obey. She interpreted ‘let go’ as sort of a Carte Blanche card, but my intent was that she would have some public restraint.

“You go into his cabin naked. What time was it?”

“Maybe 11:30 ... mmm, Jace … I was ready … it was not too long after my text to you.”

“You were in his room two hours?”

“Went by fast, Jace.”

“He’s that good?”

She stopped and thought about what to say, then looked deeply into my eyes, “He’s by far the best I’ve ever had, Jace. I don’t want to hurt your feelings because I love you so much, but it was really, really good.”

I had to stop stroking because my dark fantasy was hearing exactly what it wanted, “What makes him so good?”

“He’s huge, honey, I’ve never felt so full.”

“You took it all?”

“Yes, I loved it, but it’s not just how long it is … his … thing … is really thick … and so hard.”

“He touched places inside you that had never been touched.”

“All my places loved his … thing … and he definitely touched new places, Jace.”

“He took your virginity in those places.”

“I guess he did.” She had me teetering, and her description almost did it. I was motionless, “What else?”

“It was rock hard all night, honey, and he lasted a long time inside my … pussy.”

That word was her outermost limit, and it had me hanging over the edge, ready to tumble, “He finally came though?”

“Three times, and he was gentle when needed, but he can really pound. I loved all of it.”

“He used protection, right?”

“Yes … but … only after I told him I wasn’t on the pill anymore. He asked why, and I told him we were trying to get me pregnant.”

“You told him. What did he say?”

“He said … next time … oohhh god, honey … he won’t wear one.”

“Next time?”

“He wants more.”

The idea percolated. It was at first repulsive and unthinkable, but my dark fantasy was apparently deeper than imagined. He clearly had good genes and the same color hair and eyes I did. Only slightly younger. The danger was enticing.

“He would shoot farther up inside you.”

“Much further.”

“Closer to your egg.”

I saw her evaluation look again, and I think she might have seen guilt in my eyes, “You’re not going to let him, right?”

“He’d have a better chance.”

“Probably.”

“He has great genes.”

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Are you?”

She didn’t answer, but locked eyes revealed what she wanted to say, so I prompted again, “You are. You want him to try.”

“Ooohh god … honey … I told him … umm … I said I’d ask.”

It was as good as a yes, and the illicitness pushed me over the cliff. Just one quick stroke did it, and my words as I fell caused her to tumble right next to me into that rhapsody of sexual bliss.

“Uuunnnggghhhh …let … him … try … uunnggghh … no … condom.”

We kept finding that the Willow Line was not yet drawn, and apparently the Jace Line wasn’t either. I worried that the Willow Line would become more, and that the arousal jolt to my fantasy from her Willow Switch could devolve into a pain that might be permanent.