I woke early and alone in Cozumel and knew there were two more nights where that would happen again. It had been after 3 AM when I finally found the bed, so I didn’t expect the Painful Welt and Willow for at least a couple of hours. I was convinced that they did something much different when they found his bed.

I had breakfast, checked email and the news on my phone, and downed several cups of coffee before I finally settled the argument with my conscience, which had been trying to convince me I’d already reached the Jace Line.

My conscience lost, and this time I would keep my word. Alcohol had been a significant factor in my crazy offer to the Painful Welt last night, but my dark fantasy had emerged even further and was undoubtedly now predominant, even when I was sober in the daylight.

That reaffirmation eliminated the discomfort and embarrassment I would have felt if my conscience won and I had to tell my newlywed wife that I wanted to renege on the drunken offer I made for Willow to Switch sleeping partners. That offer was the reason she wasn’t with me this morning, and it was made after watching the Willow Switch fully satisfy my wife in front of me and a few other people, and in several positions. My offer to the Painful Welt was not just for the night. I gave my honeymoon bride to him for the rest of the cruise.

My wife wasn’t and isn’t mine to give away, but she didn’t complain about being a gift. I remembered that I had given him to her as a second wedding gift too, so I was being Summer Santa to both of them. Her gift was him and his gift was her. Both were gifts that would keep on giving, but my assumption and hope was that her gift was going to stop giving to her and give his gift back to me at the end of the cruise.

Her gift and his gift both had wet hair and smelled fresh and clean when they walked through our suite door at 11:15. I wondered if they had played together in the shower they both just took, and blood started filling the traitor in my pants. I shook the Painful Welt’s hand and hugged my beautiful bride, although it felt awkward and I didn’t kiss her. She didn’t let me get away with that obvious omission

“Please kiss me, honey. I need to know you’re okay.”

It was reassurance for me, and one of the most gratifying kisses of my life. I think my rising tide was reassurance of a sort for her too when she felt it prodding.

The Painful Welt was barefoot and shirtless, carrying a large envelope and a Leica. It looked like he was wearing the same cargo shorts he’d worn last night. Willow, of course, because she had no choice, wore the same dress, but she was also barefoot carrying her heels and purse. I wondered if they were both wearing just one piece of clothing, and whether I would find out. We all sat on the couch while I poured coffee and my wife’s honeymoon husband opened the envelope to remove the enlarged photographs.

There were only six he thought worthy of printing, and only two that were 8” x 10”. He handed me the four 5” x 7” photos first, and I studied each one. The first was of the shark only a couple feet away looking right into the camera, then there were two photos of several schools of colorful fish swimming together, and the last was a photo of Willow and I hugging. She was topless, and there was a tent in my suit, so it couldn’t hang in our living room with the rest of them, but there was a great spot on my desk in the study.

After digesting the smaller photos, Brock handed me the first large photo, and it was of Willow alone, smiling with her mouthpiece in her hand. She was topless of course and her camel toe seemed to be the focal point as it was clearly outlined by her spread legs. It was sexy as hell, and the blood kept filling my control center, but when he handed me the second large photo, one showing Willow and Brock together, my dominant control center quickly pumped up to as tumescent as it ever gets. Her mouthpiece was still out, and they were both smiling and hugging while looking at each other. I hadn’t noticed it when I snapped the photo, but his hand had to have been on her bottom. I didn’t know where the large ones would hang after I got them framed, but they would definitely be placed where I could see them every day. Maybe the master bath.

All the photos were in focus and looked professional, and I was grateful for his gifts. They had been taken before anything else happened, and they were the very start of my fall into my dark fantasy. I was still dropping, and I didn’t know when or if I would find its ultimate depth, or whether there was a Jace Line I would cross on my fall.

More importantly, would he push her across the Willow Line on our cruise?

Was there a Willow line?

They were all questions that we didn’t want positive answers to yet. I was falling and the Painful Welt was pushing Willow, but those were the conditions that we were both fully invested in right then, ignoring later consequences.

After looking at all the photos twice, Willow opened her purse to get a hairbrush. She made no effort to hide the bra and panties I’d stuffed in at ‘On the Briny’ last night. She moved them aside to grab it, so I knew my speculation that she was naked under her dress was correct.

She looked at me and smiled, as if she could read my wish-list mind. She unbuckled and unbuttoned, then stripped her dress off, “Will you put this with the dirty clothes, honey? I need to get ready.”

I didn’t move as I watched with a new appreciation for her beauty as she headed for the bathroom to put on makeup. I knew it would be a while, and I knew she was prepping for Brock’s high-end camera. He got up and pulled her bra and panties from her purse before he found his phone. He used the light meter app to check the light in the room.

While he meandered with his phone meter, he confessed, “I had copies made for me too.”

I smiled, “I would have guessed that.”

He finished checking and rendered a verdict, “This is great. Just need to avoid two corners, but otherwise, I won’t need the flash. The skylight does it.”

“Do you want me to give her the new bikini while she’s in the bathroom?”

“No, she’ll be changing here. Find some more sexy things for your wife to wear to entice her best lover on her honeymoon. I want some more sexy photos to show my friends back home.”

He said it in a way that let me know he was rubbing it in, and that he expected me to let him assert his dominance over me too. He really did bully, and although we hadn’t found that red line for my wife, he found that my fall into my pit of dark fantasy passed the Jace Line and hit the floor. It wasn’t a bottomless pit.

“Fuck you, Brock.” He looked surprised but totally unafraid. “You know that watching and hearing about what you do together turns me on, but you’re being an asshole. I love her and want the best, and right now you are, but that doesn’t mean you can treat me like shit, especially in front of Willow.”

It was a long harangue for me, and he looked back with a gentle smile. Finally, he offered his hand and I just stared at it, making no move to shake.

As I waited to see what he’d say, his hand stayed out, “Sorry, I thought you liked it. From now on, we treat each other with respect and we push Willow. If she balks like you did, we stop pushing.”

“That means the photos you take today are private, not for your ‘friends back home’,” I used my hands to put up visual quotes around ‘friends back home’. I waited a few seconds for him to respond, but before he did I added, “And what did you mean by ‘more sexy photos’.” More finger quotes around ‘more sexy photos’.

He was deliberate and patient before he pushed back, “My friends won’t ever be around either of you, and you let other people watch me fuck your wife while you watched in person. She liked letting them watch. She liked letting me take some sexy photos already. What if she agrees to let me share them?”

My stiffening backbone that rejected his bullying caused the stiffness that had been there at its lower end to begin wilting rapidly. Oddly, the original stiffness had been there because of his dominance over my wife, and everything he said was true. That didn’t mean that what he wanted to do was okay.

“If you share them, they might end up online where everybody can see them.” My jaw was still jutting out, fighting back.

“You think your wife wouldn’t like that?”

He had a point. I thought she would, and then I briefly introspected and decided I would too. I withdrew my jut.

“If that’s the way you ask and she agrees, then I’ll agree too.”

I felt my stiff spine loosen, so I took his hand and shook it, To solidify the loosening (what?), I walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer filled with lacy, revealing enticements.

“Look through these. You can tell new ones from the price tags, and she’s never worn those.”

“She will today. Anything else?”

“A couple of negligees in the closet.” I then let the traitor speak for me again, “This is the bra and panty set she wore for your ‘date’. You were the first to see her wearing these.”

“I sure recognize them. So the first time you saw them on her was in the hall at the end of our ‘date’?”

“Yes, and they are now my favorite.”

“We should make sure she wears them for the camera then. They will bring back memories for all of us.”

“Just seeing them already does that.”

“Can I pick a few more for today?”

That was more like it. Questions beat orders.

“Any you want.”

He only picked new ones to lay out on the bed, and I think it was because he wanted to be the first to see her wear them. I was happy to share the inaugural view of my wife in her new sexy enticements despite not being the first to see my favorites on her.

Willow returned with her hair and makeup done expertly, but now in the fluffy robe provided with the suite. It seemed odd since she went into the bathroom naked, and I expected her to return that way.

The Painful Welt asked, “Would you please get the new suit for her Jace?”

Willow looked at me, realizing his attitude toward me had changed. She didn’t expect questions from her honeymoon husband, only directives for both of us, and she didn’t know ‘please’ was in his vocabulary. I went to a different drawer and handed it to her.

She hesitated, but the Painful Welt held his Leica up and his first camera click occurred while he demanded, “Just change here.”

No please, no question. She had her robe off within seconds and proudly stood naked before us. Even before she pulled the thong bottoms on, the camera clicked a few more times as he directed her to spin around. With the skimpy bottoms on, the Painful Welt took more as he told her to pose in different positions. The thong just had a string running up the crack between her cheeks, and it was just a narrow strip at her junction that wasn’t as wide as the opening between her thighs.

She was still topless of course, and watching her pose in the almost-nothing thong was enough to regenerate thickening and stiffening, but Brock’s next directive just increased the speed of the blood flowing in.

“We can see the hair. I’ll have to shave you Willow honey. Get the scissors and strip off. Jace, can you get shaving cream and a razor?”

He walked toward the bathroom, expecting us to obey. At least he’d ordered me in question format.

He had her sit straddling the side of the tub and leaning back against the wall. As soon as he trimmed with the scissors, he splashed the stubble with hot water and then worked the shaving cream in thoroughly. I thought he rubbed it in more than necessary, especially since she was jerky as he scraped every follicle off, but he didn’t cut her anywhere.

I was fully tumescent seeing her shaved altar, but he didn’t stop there.

He looked at me, “Do you have any aftershave?”:

I found it and he was salving the just-shaved smoothness by rubbing the cream in, once again more thoroughly than necessary, “How does that feel now, Willow honey?”

“Mmmm … don’t stop, honey.”

“Later. We need photographs, and they will be so much better with my favorite part of you so visible. Spread it open as much as you can, hon.”

“Whatever you want, Brock honey.”

The honey was dripping with each comment, and while calling each other ‘honey’ could be considered as more bullying in my direction, I thought it was more the connection they felt with each other. They were calling each other honey, much as they would if they were married. Well, they essentially were, for two more nights.

“I’m going to shave your legs and under your arms too. I want you smooth everywhere, Willow love.”

He did, and she was.

Billiard ball smooth, everywhere below her neck.

Also wet for another reason other than the moisture in the aftershave he spread.

“Would you get her suit, Jace? Let’s see how it looks now.”

When I returned, I found that the bathroom with its own skylight was now the studio and he had already started the session. I watched her pose in the same position she was in when he shaved her prime location, and it was easy to see it was red, swollen, and wet. Human eyes can’t see infrared radiation (heat waves), but I was betting that if we could, we would see that it was red, swollen, wet, and smoking hot. He took more shots of her beautiful nude body before he instructed her,

“Put the thong back on, Willow.”

It was flimsy and suggestive and couldn’t hide the fact that she was shaved. Or wet.

He placed her in some new poses and snapped several shots in each one before he instructed, “Put on the top now honey.”

The triangles over each nipple were not big enough to keep side and bottom boob from showing. The top made it even more obvious that her nipples were erect, and I knew she was in the zone again.

“Get in the shower, honey. Let’s see how it looks wet.”

It hadn’t taken long for her own juices to cause the thong to cling and outline, but when the shower hit it, wet was nearly equivalent to transparent. It was unlined, and the cloth was thinner than the material used in wet t-shirt contests. Her nipples were erect and not hidden at all. Her slit and mound were exposed and inviting, and it was like the thong was a spotlight used to highlight them.

She managed to keep her face and hair away from the shower spray as the Painful Welt directed her.

“Touch yourself, honey.” He looked at me, “Is it okay if I use my phone to video?”

I nodded, and he ordered, “Please get it for me. It’s on the coffee table.”

He was still taking photographs of Willow touching herself when I got back, and I could see she was enjoying it. I’d never been able to get her to masturbate in front of me, but the Painful Welt could, and not just in front of me.

It wasn’t just in front of him and me either. He was going to video, and who knows who else he would show it to. I didn’t fully trust him to keep his word, and if Willow gave the ok, he would be keeping his word regardless.

He handed me his camera and I handed him his phone. He was videoing when he demanded, “Make yourself feel good while we all watch, hon.”

Only two of us were watching, but his ‘we all’ implied more. My smart wife didn’t miss it, “This is going to be private, right, Brock honey?”

“Your husband is worried that if I share, it might get online where everybody could see you naked. You like letting them see you, Willow love.”

“You’re going to put it online?”

“I am. I’m going to share your beauty and passion with the world.”

She didn’t formally acquiesce, but she didn’t even informally reject either. The one hand inside her top escalated its squeezing and movement, and the other hand was rubbing with greater pressure inside her thong. I used his camera to take a shot of the Painful Welt videoing Willow.

“I’m going to take you to the beach like this, honey. I want every man there to see you like this. What will they want to do?”

“Ooohh god, Brock honey … you know.”

He flipped the lever that turned the shower off, but water was still flowing into the tub.

“Turn so I can see. Keep playing, Willow love.”

My wife’s eyes were on him as she continued to masturbate.

“Use one hand to pull the suit aside, honey. We all want to see what you’re doing.”

I was mesmerized and didn’t notice the Painful Welt, but I did hear his shorts hit the floor. My quick glance revealed that he wasn’t wearing underwear, that he was hard, and that he was stroking. My dark fantasy speculation about a single article of clothing was right. Again. I was glad. I snapped another shot, this time with the Painful Welt stroking his Willow Switch as he videoed my beautiful wife masturbating in the tub.

The Willow Switch was doing for her eyes what Willow was doing for our eyes. He continued to stroke as he watched her pull her thong sideways so we could see her fingers working hard on and around her magic button.

I knew her signs, and she was getting close.

“Take it all off again, hon. Lay down so the water hits you.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but she did. She was naked, on her back with her legs straight up and spread. The water was at full stream hitting directly on her most sensitive spot.

He stood above her, stroking his magnificent Willow Switch with his right hand and videoing with his left. She let the powerful stream do its work, and both her hands were now pinching and squeezing her breasts. Her eyes dwelt on the Painful Welts’s entrancing Willow Switch as he stroked it. I snapped another shot.

“You didn’t say what all those men would want to do when they see you in your suit, honey.”

“Will I have to … oohhh god, honey … will they see it wet?”

Painful Welt didn’t give an inch, just as she wanted, “From the start, honey, with no top.” He looked at me before asking, “If that’s ok with your husband?”

Her indicators were all in the red zone, and my answer kept her meter pegged, “I’m not the one asking her what to do now, Brock. Isn’t that right, Willow?”

His honeymoon wife looked at me, “That’s right, Jace … ooohh god … I’m his now … you gave me to him ...” She saw that my meter was also pegged and continued to push from her end, “... whatever he says, honey … mmm ... whatever he wants … wherever … whenever … anything … everything … I’m his to command … for now.”

The Willow Switch was in his hands, both figuratively and literally, and she was focused on it as he stroked. As if to affirm his status in the chain of command, the Painful Welt demanded, “What will they want to do, Willow honey? You didn’t answer me.”

“They will want … to ...” All of a sudden she looked at me, “to … to … do me.”

He was in command and pushing, “They will. They will all want to fuck you. What will you do then, honey?”

“Ooohh god … Brock honey … what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to make them want you. How can you do that?”

“You want me to smile at them when it’s wet?

“And when you’re topless. What else?”

“Flirt and tease?”

“Yes, make them all hard.”

“Can they touch?”

“What would you do if I picked out one of them and told you to seduce him?”

I hoped he’d pushed past the Willow Line, but no. Her dark fantasy was at least as black and deep as mine.

“I only want you, Brock … uuhhh … why would you want me to seduce anybody else, honey … oohhh … but I promised to obey ....”

He smiled at his girlfriend, “I would never do that Willow hon, but I appreciate your commitment. No touching and no seducing.” He looked my way, “I don’t believe in re-gifting.”

His gift was grateful, “Mmmm … thank you, honey.” She wasn’t looking at me, but I could see that all the talk about men wanting her was effective and she was very close.

So could the man directing her, and his last order was enough, “Come for me, Willow.”

The Painful Welt’s directive must have been the proverbial straw, and that one-hump Dromedary broke into a two-hump Bactrian as she hunched through her self-administered happy ending. It was obvious that her climax was pleasurable, but it wasn’t anything close to any of those I witnessed last night.

I waited until she moved back and the water wasn’t hitting her button anymore before I reached down to turn off the water. She smiled at me, and I could see the relief in her eyes. I later learned it wasn’t his directive to come that broke the camel’s back, it was the relief that she wouldn’t be forced into anonymous surrender. Our minds were on the same track. Anonymous surrender was tantamount to masturbation and we all knew what she’d just done was satisfying only when fucking with a connected partner was unavailable.

Her respiration rate was slowing and our eyes were still connected when a powerful cloudburst started hitting her. Her other connected partner unloaded his own less-than-fully-satisfying happy ending as she was still recovering on her back in the tub. Her eyes left mine as she tracked the jism jets firing at her. When the storm ended, there were long strings of creamy spew from her hair to her grand junction, and her fingers started scooping and feeding it to her taste buds immediately. I snapped another photo with the Leica.

The Painful Welt never stopped videoing, even when the Willow Switch spray covered my beautiful wife. He captured all of her late-morning snack before he turned the video off and handed me his phone. He turned the roomy shower on and stepped into it with Willow. They kissed with passion. His Leica took a shot of them naked and kissing.

Before I returned to the sitting room, I took one more picture of the Painful Welt soaping up Willow’s breasts. I wasn’t sure what else they were going to do, but I had a guess.

They were in there for a long time, but when they came out Willow had redone her hair and makeup. They were dry but hadn’t bothered to dress when they sat on the couch next to me.

While they were in the bathroom, I’d gone through all the photos on his camera and the video on his phone. Twice. And then figured out how to get them all to my phone.

I’d just finished when they sat. The Painful Welt picked up his camera and issued another order.

“Put on the set you wore on our date, hon.”

That was the start of a photo session that had Willow posing in different sexy nothings and in different places for over an hour. She was photographed everywhere, but those on the bed, on the balcony, and in the corridor outside the suite wearing sometimes nothing other than see-through panties turned out the best. There wasn’t anything with a starting price tag that she hadn’t worn by the time he finished shooting. The Painful Welt only wore his cargo shorts as he posed her, and the Willow Switch tenting them was an obvious indicator that her poses were effective. She definitely noticed. My own tent pole was as tall and stiff as it ever gets, but her eyes rarely saw it.

When he finally put down his camera, I brought up something I’d thought about that morning, “I think we should trade rooms, Brock. This is a honeymoon suite, and now you should be in it with Willow.”

His look toward me indicated surprise and confusion, “It’s only two more nights, Jace. Are you sure you want to do that? We’d have to move our stuff.”

“That’s a lot easier than moving her stuff. She said your bed is barely big enough, and she needs to be pampered on her honeymoon.”

“Willow said this was your wedding present to her.”

“It was mainly the cruise, but the honeymoon suite was also a big part of my wedding gift. Since you are my second wedding gift to her, it just seems right that both my gifts to her should be with her in the same place.”

All of a sudden, she was in my lap kissing me, “Jace, you are so loving, so giving, and I’m so glad you’re my husband. I can’t believe everything you’ve already done for me, but this is over the top. I love you so much.”

After that, Brock couldn’t refuse. He did refuse to let my wife wear anything under the silky pink slip he picked for her to wear for the day. It was short, and it had lace on the bodice and lower hem, and it was clearly meant to be worn under a dress. He was asserting his dominance by showing her off, and I could tell she liked both the dominance and the showing off.

I did too.

For her.

Not for me.

I packed up and we carried my stuff to his room, and then we went to the buffet for a late lunch.

And guess who we ran into? Good guess, and she was not one to let an opportunity pass.

Joey’s Cruella de Vil smile accompanied her sarcasm, “So you two did get back together then, Willow?”

My wife didn’t like smugness any more than I did, “You should try it, Joey.” She pulled on the Painful Welt’s arm so her breasts squashed against his huge bicep and looked up at him, “What do you think, Brock honey?”

The Painful Welt looked Joey up and down like he was inspecting the wax job on his car. I could see William bristle even before the Painful Welt delivered a stinging swat to both of them, “Wouldn’t now and never would have, Willow love.”

He did know how to bully, and his insult was as much toward William as it was to his wife. I could see there was seething as William’s fists balled up, but he stood still.

Discretion vs valor.

Joey’s attack didn’t relent, “You must not think Brock’s enough either. That’s just a slip, and I’ll bet you’re naked under it. You must want every man, from the way you’re almost dressed.”

“You’re husband sure seems interested, Joey.” She smiled at William, “And you’re right. This is just a slip I’m naked under it.”

William’s mouth betrayed him, “It’s beautiful on you, Willow.”

Joey elbowed and exclaimed, “William!”

He defended with a smile, “As you reminded me, it’s just looking baby.” He smiled at Willow.

If William was hoping, and the lust in his eyes confirmed that he was, Willow squelched that, “And you’re wrong again Joey. Brock is more man than anybody else on this big boat, so why would I want any of them?”

As Joey sputtered trying to think of a response, William blushed. He finally just took his wife’s hand and looked at me, “We’ll see you at dinner, Jace?”

I nodded, “We’ll be there.”

William pulled his reluctant wife away.

After lunch, we went back to the Painful Welt’s room and packed his stuff. We moved it, and when he finished putting his stuff away, it was after 3:00, and his bully inside re-emerged, “Time for the beach. Get your new bikini on, hon.”

We all changed in the suite’s living room, and the Painful Welt strutted before pulling his Speedo on. He was sure proud of his ‘thing’. Justifiably so. Willow wanted to wear a wrap over her new, almost dry, white thong bikini, but the Painful Welt’s refusal struck deep into her own dark fantasy. I just wore my dad-style boxer trunks.

True to his word, the Painful Welt took my wife into the gentle surf as soon as he took her top off and spread sunscreen all over her body. I spent the afternoon confirming that Willow’s guess that all men would want to fuck her was correct. It was easy to see, and her smiling, flirting, and teasing magnified their interest.

She was topless in the skimpy, see-through thong all afternoon, and I was a-throb at her willing exhibitionism. She did everything she could to hold the stares of the army of single men watching, and she had an accomplice directing her scenes. The Painful Welt was even handier than I’d been when applying sunscreen, and he made sure her breasts and exposed ass cheeks were covered frequently and thoroughly. He even applied it to her newly shaved junction under her suit, and he explained to me as he did it, “This would be the worst place for your wife to get sunburned.”

Joey and William were on the same beach, although they didn’t approach, and I had more than a hunch that Joey’s smart mouth would be on the offensive at dinner.

My wife and her honeymoon husband played in and out of the water, and the Willow Switch magnificence threatened the strength of the Speedo he wore. Mine was not as magnificent, but I’ll bet it was as hard, and any relief for its predicament was at least two nights away.

I walked with them back to ‘their’ room just before 5:30 and told Willow to call when she was ready for dinner. I thought I knew what they planned to do in the meantime.

We were nearly half an hour late, almost missing the window. We’d barely felt our asses hit the seats at the dinner table just before 7:00 when Joey started, “Is this what you expected on your honeymoon, Jace?”

Okay, it was on. Lace ‘em up.

“Willow has never had pleasure like this before. Would William let you have pleasure like that, Joey?”

A snide, “What makes you think he doesn’t?”

Willow decided to answer, “I’ve seen William in a swimsuit, Joey. He’s no Brock. Have you ever had over ten inches of really thick man inside you?”

“Size isn’t everything.”

“I’ll bet you don’t have any idea. I can tell by looking that William doesn’t come close. I know now, and it’s heaven. It goes so deep inside. It fills me completely. I never had more than two orgasms in one night before, but Brock is so good that last night I had at least ten, and each one was better than any I’ve ever had before. I just had two monstrous ones he gave me right before dinner.”

There was no longer any chatter from the rest of our table mates. This was a very, very personal confession made public, and most of the eyeballs were directed at me.

Her very, very personal disclosure engendered my own, “I was with the group that saw him give her five of those last night, and I know she’s never had even one with me that was as intense as any of those.”

Joey sniped, “You watched her with him?”

“I did, and I learned something important, Joey. I’ll be a good husband. I’ll love her, I’ll protect her, and I’ll provide for her and our kids, but I’ll never get her off like Brock does. Willow’s going to spend the rest of our honeymoon with him.”

Good ‘ol smart-mouthed Joey again, “So he’ll be in your place for dinner tomorrow?”

I didn’t expect that, but in for a penny … “You’ll all like him, ladies, but he’s taken. You’ll be jealous of Willow.”

I was pretty sure the other husbands weren’t pleased with smart-mouth, especially her own husband William because now those husbands would have to hear about the precedent we set when their wives became interested in another man. None of the husbands had the handsome genes or the bold charisma of the Painful Welt, and I had a feeling their wives would be thinking about how to trade places with Willow after dinner with her honeymoon husband.

Both Willow and I now had extremely personal confessions made public. What the fuck, we’d never see anybody on this large ship ever again, and it felt good to let my dark fantasy out of its cage.

After dinner, on our way back to ‘their’ suite, I confessed, “I’m glad they know it turns me on to let you be with Brock.”

Willow confirmed that it felt good to her too, “I liked telling them everything we’re doing, Jace.”

“We made a good team against Joey.”

“Are you really going to let Brock take your place at dinner tomorrow?”

I laughed, “Why not? He’s pretty good at taking my place.”

She lightly elbowed me and giggled, “Yes he is Jace. Very good.”

I laughed again, “Any place in particular?”

She didn’t answer with words, but her tinkling laughter was an answer as complete as any words could ever be.

After I dropped her off. I left so they could go on their second ‘date’ without me

I found myself back in the cigar lounge, just like on their first ‘date’. This time, I was able to savor my Cohiba while I tipped a few Coronas, and my jealousy index was manageable.

I didn’t talk to anybody as I smoked, drank, and thought, and this time it was with the control center above my belt. My brain focused on my wife as the central point in all my thoughts. I was happy for the pleasure she found in her shipboard romance, but that made our own future less certain.

I wondered what our life would be like when we got back home. She’d taken a big bite out of the huge and forbidden Garden-of-Eden pleasure apple, and I didn’t think she would ever again be totally satisfied with the pleasure she could get from the bites out of my lawfully entitled and relatively plum-sized apple. Both the size of the apple and the illicit rebellion against society’s acceptable-behavior ethos had worked their way into my bride’s libido, and the connection with her honeymoon husband had enhanced their influence.

I smiled at my ability to fool myself. Before our cruise, I thought I was a man who knew how to fully satisfy a woman. I thought I was a man who excited Willow, pleased her, took her to the top of pleasure mountain, but now I knew I never would be able to get her to the top of the peak that her second wedding gift was helping her climb many times per day.

Willow’s Switch of partners on our honeymoon led to a revelation. I wasn’t going to fool myself any longer. It was an important new wrinkle, and I didn’t want to deprive my wife of scaling that peak often and reaching the top. I knew I wasn’t the climbing partner able to belay her as I led our climb to the top, and I wondered, ‘Where can we find anyone as capable as the one she has now?’

The uncertainty was one of the things that had me hard thinking about her, so I guess all the thinking wasn’t with the upper control center after all. Romance includes more than sex, and the ‘more than’ is one of the primary pleasure enhancers. The ‘more than’ is also the most dangerous part of Willow’s Switch to another husband for the rest of the cruise, and I worried that it was the ‘more than’ that would totally douse my pleasure at seeing her pleasure.

Regardless, I wanted her to have it all, and the ‘more than’ was also a part of my dark fantasy. I don’t believe I had ever been as hard or as big as I was when watching my wife receive the ultimate pleasure of her life, and it was easy to see that the connection between them was not solely at the socket he plugged into. Watching them connect in all ways excited me almost as much as actually doing it with her, and I found out how intimately tied my pleasure was to hers.

It wasn’t just a sex partner that we needed to find back home. There had to be a ‘more than’ connection, and she’d been on the open market for a long time without finding a man with the ‘more than’ that the Painful Welt had. It was a daunting task, a small needle in a big haystack search for a man like the one she was already with.

I resolved a couple of conflicts between my conscience and my dark fantasy while indulging in beer and cigar smoke, but I was still worried and jealous when my head hit the pillow. After a restless night, I was still pondering the next morning as our ship sailed on. This was our last full day, a day at sea on our return to Miami, and we had one more night before we hit port tomorrow morning.

I went for an absent-minded lope on the upper deck track while I let the hamster spin the wheel, and it wasn’t until probably the fifth or sixth time I passed the weight room when I noticed the Painful Welt inside. He was doing left-arm curls, and it looked like he was working with a weight I would have trouble curling with both arms. I didn’t see Willow, so I went in. I needed to warn him about dinner.

The Painful Welt saw me coming, and smiled while he answered my unasked question, “She’s in the spa.” He put down his weight and shook my hand, “Let’s go outside, I need to talk to you alone anyway.”

I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but I did need to give him a heads up about Joey’s ambush at the newlywed table. We sat on a bench at the front of that upper deck.