The knock on the door had Trish in a panic. She thought Jacques must have changed his mind about winning the Sevens tournament and returned. But Dave climbed off the bed, and walked to the front door, knowing it would be room service. He had ordered an assortment of things off the breakfast/brunch menu while Trish was sleeping, knowing they would both need energy if they were to go out again that night.

But when he opened the door, he found Jacquelyn outside, looking extremely nervous.

"Sorry, but can I come in and talk, please?" she asked. 

Dave opened the door wide, ushered her in, and steered her into the lounge chair. "Wait there for a second. I'll go get Trish." 

But when he turned to go to the bedroom, Trish was already standing in the doorway, tying up her robe. Jacquelyn saw her and apologised again.

"Sorry, I have lots of questions about dinner tonight. Noel is saying we aren't going, but I am coming no matter what he says."

 Then the words just poured out of her, her excellent English becoming chaotic and mixed with French.

"What if I'm terrible? Will I have to sleep with more than one man? I'll be too sore from having any more, and I don't want him to hit me between the legs as they did with you this morning. I know I will faint with the pain."

 Trish held her hand up to slow the torrent of words pouring from Jacquelyn's mouth, then looking at Dave, she asked, "Did Jacques hit me down there?"

"Yes, you were pretty out of it, but I thought you would have remembered that as he hit you quite hard with a little spatula at least five times, right on your clit. And Pierre was pinching your nipples pretty hard. But, funnily enough, I was more concerned about them than your clit."

Trish put her hand inside her robe and touched a nipple. "God, I wondered why they were so sore, but they're incredibly sensitive; just this robe rubbing on them has me thinking wicked thoughts."

Then she dug her hand between her legs, flinched and jerked her hand away. 

Dave looked on with concern, "Are you alright? Is it really sore?"

Trish looked from Dave to Jacquelyn, "No! Well, maybe a little bit sore, but sensitive! Shit, you have no idea. If I touch it, I will be crawling on top of you again, whether Jacquelyn is in the room or not, and I haven't the energy."

Dave looked at Jacquelyn, "I have seen you and Noel around the last two days. You have been trying to catch my eye, I think. I also think that you're walking over to watch us this morning was not an accident. Was it?"

Jacquelyn went to answer, but at that moment, there was a loud knock on the door. Dave got up to let the room service boy in. He had ordered far too much, wondering what Trish would want to eat. There was cereal, croissants and jams, hotcakes, eggs, bacon, etc. He motioned Jacquelyn over to the table and insisted she ate with them. She resisted at first but admitted she was hungry, and soon they were all tucking into the food.

Jacquelyn finished first and started to talk. But Trish waved at her to slow down, "I speak a little French, but Dave doesn't, so take your time and stick to English, please."

Guiltily looking at Trish, she admitted trying to catch Dave's eye. "But I need to explain my situation so that you may have some understanding."

She told how she and Noel came from wealthy banking families and had known that they would marry since their teens. Their parents thought it would be a great match and cement the two businesses together. All her girlfriends were envious of her landing him, even though they knew she had little to say in the arrangement. He had always been attentive and kind, and, like her friends, she thought she was lucky to catch such a husband.

But once they were married, she found him to be different. He did not mistreat her; she had anything she could ever want, but there was little love. Noel went out with his mates more than her, and there was hardly any sex. The only time he paid her any attention was when he came to her bed and expected sex, and that did not happen very often. 

"We sleep in separate rooms," she stated. And looking embarrassed, she carried on, "I was a virgin when we married, and I doubt Noel had slept with anyone other than prostitutes, as that's what I feel like when he comes to me. He just climbs on top, thrusts away, makes a mess, and returns to his bedroom, leaving me sore, frustrated and increasingly angry nowadays."

Trish interjected, "Divorce him. There are plenty of good men you could marry."

"That's out of the question. We are both from devout Catholic families, and besides, our Banks are in the middle of a merger, which will tie us together even tighter than the church. We have friends in similar situations, they live entirely separate lives, but it is not ideal." 

She said she had tried getting him to come to counselling with her and to read books and articles in magazines that she picked out. But he was not interested. He just said that was how it was; she should be happy.

"I've been married for four years, and soon after we married, I found myself bored, with little to do other than meet my overindulged friends. So finally, I pressured Noel into allowing me to work some mornings at his bank. Contrary to the impression he had always given me, I found he was not that good at his job and wasn't especially well-liked either. 

His father had appointed a manager in charge until they were happy Noel was qualified enough to take over. My parents see all this and are pushing that I be groomed for the director's job when they retire. None of this is helping with our marriage issues, either.

Anyway, after a few months, one of the sales managers at the bank made advances to me. Hardly anything happened, a few suggestive words in the lunchroom when we were alone. Noel somehow found out what was happening. He wouldn't talk about it with me, but the sales manager disappeared, and I found out later that Noel had fired the man." 

 The holiday was her idea; she had hoped that getting Noel away from the pressure of the bank and relaxing in some idyllic setting may encourage him to talk and show a little more interest in her. She hadn't chosen one of the selective, expensive resorts they usually frequented, as she wanted to meet new people who knew nothing about them. And because kidnapping was always a risk for them. She explained that they were travelling under false names.

She also hoped that because this resort had so many activities, Noel would go off and play golf, etc. and leave her to meet and talk to others, maybe even meet a nice guy. But Noel was even worse here than he was back home in Paris; he had become very possessive, never letting her out of his sight.

Looking over at Trish, Jacquelyn paused and said, "I'm sorry, but I have been trying to catch your husband's eye. I was attracted to him, and most importantly, he was not French, so Noel couldn't use his influence to hurt him. I didn't think of you at all. I'm sorry."

She continued, explaining that she had been watching them both at the pool the day before. She and Noel were sitting at the bar on the other side of the pool. She had seen Dave get up and walk to the shops and had followed him, hoping for an opportunity to catch his eye and talk. But when she got to the shops, he was not there. So she backtracked through the shops and realised the only place he could have gone was upstairs to the restaurant. So she crept up the stairs and saw him standing at the large window, watching something by the pool.

She had stood at the top of the stairs, not daring to disturb him, as she could see by his furtive actions that he was trying not to be seen. And after a short while, when she was just about to go over and pretend she was looking for a menu, he rose from his seat and made to return downstairs. She spun around and ran down the stairs and into a shop. Once he rushed past the shop doorway, she returned upstairs to see what he had been watching and why he had left in such a rush.

She couldn't see Dave but was surprised to see three men talking with Trish. She then noticed that Dave was at the pool bar waiting for drinks. Diverting her gaze back to Trish, she saw one of the men talking and rubbing her legs. That explained why Dave had rushed down the stairs but didn't understand why he had gone to the bar instead of hurrying to confront the men. She knew Noel would have been straight over there, causing an almighty scene.

When Dave carried the drinks over to them, she had braced herself for the explosion but watched as he sat down and talked with the man. She assumed they must know one another as the man continued touching Trish on her legs while talking with Dave. Then she was shocked when he leaned forward and undid one side of her bikini.

Looking at Trish, she said, "I saw you were startled, and you looked around to see who was looking, but I didn't understand why Dave just sat there. And why did you not slap Jacques' face?"

Trish looked at Dave, "Can you explain that to her? 'cause I don't know I if can."

But Jacquelyn hardly listened to Trish's reply and carried on. "I watched as Dave and two of the men got up and walked out to your room. I knew which bungalow was yours. We are also in an overwater bungalow, but on the other bridge further down the beach."

Jacquelyn hesitated and gathered her thoughts, "I watched as you argued with Jacques. It looked like he forbade you from doing up the strings on your bikini."

Trish nodded at her, "Yes, he did, and worse, he said he would take my Bikini bottom and let me find my way to the room without it if I did them up."

Jacquelyn asked her, "Why?" and again didn't wait for an answer, "I was confused when he didn't follow the others to your room but started leading you straight towards me. I was going to run down the stairs and see where he took you, but then I noticed Dave was watching you, and he looked concerned, but he just stood outside your bungalow watching your progress, so I stayed put as well. I understood when you appeared from underneath my window. He was parading you, embarrassing you on purpose. That made me think about my reaction if he had made me do that, and an urge to swap places with you hit me so strongly that I clutched my breasts. I couldn't believe it. I was sexually excited. At that point, I started to understand why you were following along with his humiliating you. It had to be having the same effect on you, and I wished I was down there, in your place."

"I watched as he walked you out onto the bridge, then watched as he made you drop everything and stand naked, and you walked proudly into the room. I knew right then, once inside, you would get fucked by all those men. I stood there unable to move, then without warning, had an apogée and realised I was leaking down my legs; I was that excited.

Dave made a noise and looked at her quizzically, mouthing the word 'apogée'.

"Oh! It means climax, sorry. I realised I had my hand in front of my bikini and must have been playing with myself. I had to take a napkin from one of the tables to clean myself up before returning to Noel. I've never been wet like that before. Noel was panicking and asking where I had been. We had the first sex we had had in weeks when we got out to our bungalow, and I woke up three times in the night and made myself come each time. I got so wet; I wondered if something was wrong with me down there."

She looked at Trish, "I would give all the money we have to have, swapped places with you."

Then she described how she had gotten up early that morning to go to the pool, hoping to see the men leave the room. She had wanted to catch Dave and question him about all she had witnessed and why he had not stopped it. But when she went to leave their room, Noel had put his foot down and said she had to wait for him before she could leave. She was going to obey, then thought, bugger him. So she walked out the door and yelled to him that he could join her anytime by the pool. He looked angry but didn't stop her, and he was sitting beside her at the pool within minutes. He annoyed her, though, as he kept insisting they go to breakfast, but she didn't dare leave and miss them leaving the bungalow. 

Then not long after they had sat down, Jacques walked straight past where they were sitting and out to their room. The other two men were just a little behind Jacques, but they went down the beach and picked up some deckchairs.

"You know the rest," Jacquelyn said, watching them as they finished eating. "But I must say that when Jacques walked you topless past those men at the bar and then past the day restaurant, I was with you every step. I was so excited. You looked stunning. Noel had no clue; he had his head stuck in his financial paper. I think he was the only man there, or woman for that matter, that did not watch you."

 Trish blushed red. "I have never been that embarrassed in my life."

 They all sat in silence, each pondering the events that had happened.

Then Jacquelyn hesitantly broke the silence, "Can I ask you something embarrassing?" Trish nodded to her. "You had those men. Did it not hurt you? Noel often hurts me, and he never lasts very long."

Trish looked at her and then at Dave. "Dave, I think you should go and get ready for us to have lunch and shop for a dress. I need something new to wear tonight. And need to sit and have a girl's talk with Jacquelyn."

But Jacquelyn interrupted and, looking at Dave, said, "Before you go, I have a question for you both. When Noel and I returned to our room this morning, I asked Noel why he was so jealous of me, seeing as you didn't seem to mind your wife having another man touch her. Noel said you're not a man at all, probably gay, and doesn't like women. Are you gay?"

Dave and Trish both burst out laughing. They tried to stop themselves when they saw she was serious but couldn't contain themselves and erupted in laughter again. It was good for them both; they realised how wound up they had been with all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. 

Finally, Trish managed to calm down enough to reply, "Jacquelyn, Dave is not gay. In fact, if I am to believe all the rumours I heard about him before we married. I think he must have laid every available woman in the North Island of our country."

Jacquelyn hesitated, mulling over Trish's reply, then looked Dave in the eye, "Well, why do you not get upset when other men touch your wife?"

Dave threw his arms apart, "I can't give you a one-sentence answer to that. I'm still pondering all the reasons myself. But let me clarify that: I get incredibly jealous and must work hard to stop punching the guys with Trish. But it also turns me on. There is much more to it, but it would take me hours to explain. So another time, I think,"

Then Dave responded with his own question, "This morning on the beach wall, what did Thierry say to Noel that quelled his resistance to your taking your bikini bottom off? He looked totally subdued after that lecture."

"He told him he would have him abducted the second he stepped off the plane in Papeete and shipped off to Cairo to a brothel. Then something along the lines of - No one would ever hear of him again. But it would be quite a good life, he would be very popular, but with twenty-odd friends each day, he probably wouldn't be able to walk or sit down very well. He put his hand on his shoulder and must have pressed on a nerve, as I've caught Noel rubbing his shoulder a few times since."

Dave chuckled, "I thought it must have been something pretty drastic like that. I'll leave you two to talk," He stood and moved away.

As he entered the bedroom, he heard Trish telling Jacquelyn that the first time she had had more than one man, there had been eight of them. Jacquelyn gasped in disbelief and immediately questioned Trish about it hurting her. Dave left the door ajar and sat on the luggage shelf just inside the bedroom door, wanting to hear Trish's answer. 

"Your problem with pain when Noel takes you is that he is not giving you time to get lubricated. If he won't spend time and get you aroused with foreplay, you must buy a lubricant. They have some at the shop; I saw some by the toothpaste etc."

"I'd be too embarrassed to apply it; how could I touch myself in front of him?" Jacquelyn replied.

Trish laughed, "And there is the problem with married sex life. All men love a slut. They fantasise about having sex with an easy woman, one that will have sex at the drop of a hat, anytime and with anyone. But no man wants to marry a slut. And this means we wives must be pure and chaste, set apart like the virgin Mary, and definitely never look at another man. How can you be the perfect wife with these double standards? You absolutely should be able to touch yourself in from of him. But if you can't, then make him apply the lubrication."

Dave heard Jacquelyn sigh and then ask, "How did you get to sleep with eight men, and was Dave there with you?"

So Trish explained how they had started the catering business and had financial difficulties. "We landed a booking for a stag party, It looked to be profitable, but the guy that booked us was very wealthy and connected. There was the promise of a lot more work to come that would secure our financial future. So the party needed to be a success. Then just hours before the groom and his mates arrived, the stripper called in sick. There was no option; I had to take the place of the stripper. But I wasn't dressed to do any stripping; I was wearing jeans and a tee shirt. My only option was to buy clothes from the shop in the hotel foyer. The sexiest dress I could find was an evening gown with a split up the side, and I purchased some sheer red lingerie and shoes to go with it. Buying those clothes used up most of the profits we were likely to make that night, but there was no other option. 

I rode the lift up to the room and was excited and as wet as a fish when I arrived. Once inside and among those eight young men, my arousal grew by the minute. But that was nothing compared to what I felt when I started dancing and saw the looks of desire on the guy's faces; I lost control.  

"Didn't Dave object?" 

"Oh yes! He forbade me to go through with it, but there was no other solution, and he begrudgingly gave in. From there, it just snowballed and got very out of hand. And to answer your question, I was so wet I had no problem taking the eight guys, and one of them was hung like an elephant."

Dave sat and listened to Trish answering Jacquelyn's questions for the next half hour. They had discussed everything that Trish was telling her, but he gained new insights into how she had felt that night. Listening to her talk with Jacquelyn, he picked up on things he hadn't heard when she talked to him.

Finally, Trish came into the bedroom, saying that Jacquelyn had gone and that she had glossed over most of her fears.

She dropped the robe and slipped on a floral beach dress that almost reached down to her knees. Although the dress was loose, it clung to her body and highlighted that she was not wearing a bra. But when she went to pull some panties on, Dave stepped forward and stopped her. "Sorry, but Jacques' instructions were that I wouldn't allow you any undergarments today. So it's commando for you all day. Let's go have lunch."

They walked to the day restaurant. Trish voiced concern that every eye in the place was on her, and they must know what she had done. But Dave assured her no one had twigged their antics on the beach. Instead, they looked at her purely because of her figure and maybe the morning walk around the pool.

After lunch, they went to the boutique. Trish was worried that the place was way overpriced. But Dave soothed her and said they were using the American dollars, which is what the American guys would have wanted you to use them for.

The shop assistant welcomed them enthusiastically, raising her arms in the air, "Welcome, you are the New Zealand beauty that has the whole resort in a tizz.

Surprised, Dave asked, "How do you know we are from New Zealand?"

She tapped her nose. "There is a reporter and cameraman at the reception; they have flown over from Papeete to get photos of Demi Moore, who reportedly walked around the resort naked early this morning. Management is still trying to get them to leave. They have had to inform them about you to prove that Demi Moore is not staying here. And they have been pushing the line that it was a very brief bikini, that you were not naked. But they are still reluctant to leave. They want to interview you anyway."

"How did they know about Demi Moore?" asked Dave.

"Someone took a photo on their cellphone and posted it online. I'm told it was quite fuzzy but was a good resemblance."

She then locked the shop door and put a 'Back in 30 min' sign in the window. "Sorry, but if I don't do that, we will have a dozen men here trying to buy their wives a hat. Now, what can I do for you?"

So they explained to her that they were going to dinner that night and needed a dress. The assistant was attractive herself; Dave thought she was around his own age or maybe older. She let Trish look around to see what she fancied and took Dave aside. "You must be careful to stay close to your wife. The episode by the water this morning did not go entirely unnoticed. So many men may think they have an open license with her."

A look of concern broke out on Dave's face. She calmed him down, "My friend, the bar manager, was tidying in the restaurant; he saw the commotion below and watched your wife escorted to the beach. He watched what transpired; when you all left the beach, he ran down to tell me about it. We have a friends-with-benefits thing going, so he loves to thrill me with any gossip he hears. I told him not to tell another soul until you have left the resort. But you know men, I don't know that he will be able to contain himself. By the way, my name is Estelle."

Trish returned then with a couple of evening dresses. Estelle guided her to the changing room at the back of the shop. But Trish was hesitant to undress. The cubicle was small and only had a curtain across the front, and Trish had a problem stripping off in front of Estelle as she was embarrassed about being naked under her sun dress.

"Don't be shy!" Estelle stepped forward, taking the hem in each hand and lifting it over Trish's head. "Oh! No panties, very nice. Don't worry; I go commando most days, although I suspect it's for a different reason than you. Leaving my knickers off is a good way to keep cool," she chuckled to herself and started helping Trish into the first dress.

Stepping back to look at her, Estelle turned to Dave. "This will not do. She's quite conservative, isn't she? We need something much sexier to follow up the walk this morning." 

She held up the other dress and came to the same decision. "Don't move; I have just the dress."

Dave pulled out his camera and snapped two shots of her standing in the booth naked before Trish realised and tried to snatch the camera from him.

Estelle returned with a little black number, pulled it over Trish's head, and stood back beside Dave to survey the effect. It was stunning; the lower part was a matt black, hip-hugging skirt that showed every change in shape, making it obvious she had little underneath. But no one would give that but a glance anyway, as the top was sheer black mesh, with lace sown strategically to provide some semblance of decency.

Dave snapped another photo, declared it was perfect and said they'd take it. But Trish took one look at herself in the mirror and straight out refused. "I'm not wearing that; it doesn't hide much more than when I walked around the pool this morning."

Dave and Estelle tried to change her mind but could see they would not get her to buy it.

"I have another one that may suit," Again, she took off to find it. She came back with a scrap of silvery grey material in her hand. She pulled this over Trish's head. "It says on the label, sexy runched side glitter cami dress. That's about right, " She adjusted the hang and stepped back. "Good God, you are beautiful; that's much better. The black one had too much detail. Being plain, this one enhances your looks and figure."

Dave nodded, too stunned to remember his camera. He couldn't take his eyes off her breasts, which the material clung to like a glove. When he broke his gaze and took in the overall picture, he saw that her white bikini line was faintly visible and marred by her prominent black bush.

 Estelle saw it at the same time as Dave. "That pubic hair has to go; otherwise, it's perfect."

Dave thought, 'Good luck with that one, lady.' He had been trying to get Trish to shave down there for years. She flat refused, saying, what would their children think, or the other ladies in the locker room at the tennis club?

But before he could stop Estelle, she was away again, then back with scissors and a razor. "I'll get some warm water and soap. You start cutting as much as you can with the scissors." Fancy a woman with a figure like that not shaved in this day and age; Dave heard her mutter as she went out a door to the back of the shop.

Trish put up a fight, but Dave just lifted the dress to her waist and pushed her back to sit on the changing cubicle bench. He stopped her objections, explaining how bad the shadow looked. She slowly gave in and let him attack her pubes with a fair amount of enthusiasm.

 "You look stunning in this dress, I've never seen you so beautiful, but this has to go. Grow it back when we get home, but you must have a Brazilian for tonight."

Estelle came back with a bowl of warm soapy water and helped Dave lather her up and shave her. Trish complained that she could be seen between the dresses in the window. Dave looked, people were walking past, but he ignored her. He was enjoying himself too much.

Once clean and dried, they lowered the dress and stood her back in the booth by the mirrors. The result was stunning. At a glance, it looked like she had brief white panties on under the dress.

Estelle took off again, saying she needed one more thing. She returned with a pair of silver high heel sandals. They were too tight, but she had the next size up, and once standing in these, the effect was another step up. The high heels showed off her shapely legs, and they pushed her butt out in a very sexy way.

Trish was starting to mellow and agreed that she looked pretty good. But she tried to say to Dave about the cost quietly. Estelle heard her, though, "Forget about the cost. A woman like you deserves to have beautiful clothes. I have another outfit for you and will give you a very special rate. You have made my day. But, no! You have made my month."

They left the shop twenty minutes later, Trish wearing a new outfit, her beach dress and new frock under her arm. She had wide-leg chiffon shorts and a white mesh lace halter top. Estelle said the shorts were nude, which looked dull pink to Dave. He thought they looked like French knickers and maybe should be worn under a skirt. But fucking sexy when he thought of how much a puff of wind might expose. The halter top was similar to the black dress; the mesh was transparently sheer at the sides and back but of a denser weave at the front. From the side, it left no illusions about her not wearing a bra.

As they stepped out by the pool, Dave saw everyone turn to watch, so he turned Trish right and headed to their spot on the grass.

 "Dave, everyone's steering at me; I want to return to our room," Trish complained.

But Dave had her walk around the pool that morning on his mind and thought that if she would do that for Jacques, she could do it for him. "No! Let's sit down for a minute. I'm enjoying this, knowing you have no panties on." 

He stopped by their empty deck chairs and pulled Trish down beside him. Trish lay down on her chair, carefully keeping her legs tightly together. Immediately, three or four men turned their seats around to face their wives; yeh right, pull the other one. They may as well have pulled out binoculars. It was so obvious they were trying to look up Trish's shorts.

Trish stood and pulled the deck chair back up higher. Sat back and partially closed her eyes. Then watching through slit eyes, she saw another couple of men come around the end of the pool and sit on the sea wall, but at an angle so that by turning their heads slightly to the right, they could watch her. She slightly bent one leg at the knee, sliding her foot up the deckchair. Every head moved and focused. Then she let the knee fall to the side, opening a small gap between her legs. Heads moved in unison to get a more direct view.

"Is this what you want, Dave?" She whispered.

He whispered, trying not to move his lips, "Yes, shit, how far are you prepared to go."

Trish dropped her leg straight down again and casually pulled the legs of the shorts up as high as they would go, making out that she was exposing as much leg as possible to the sun. Of course, there was nothing for them to see; but you could still feel the anticipation, cutting the air.

She lay like that for a few minutes, then moved her leg apart a few inches, she was sure there was still nothing for them to see, but there was some movement from all around them. So she lifted the knee again, a bit higher this time. After another period and she let the knee layover to the side.

There was no doubt now that they had all seen her gash. All sat up, one guy even rummaging around for his phone. Trish opened her eyes, saw them all looking, and lifted one of the legs of the shorts to see what she was showing them. Then, she leapt up with a yelp of embarrassment, pretending she had just realised what she had been revealing to them and hurried off to their bungalow.

As Dave followed her through the door, she spun around on Dave, "God, I can't believe I did that. Was that what you wanted?"

You made my day. Almost better than this morning. I love you. He responded.

They went to lie down for a minute, Dave wondering if he might get lucky, as he was incredibly horny. But they woke nearly one and a half hours later. Dave rolled to look at Trish and found her awake and watching him. "Have you been awake long?" he asked.

"No! Only five minutes or so, but I've thought of something that needs to be done." And she rolled out of bed and headed for the door.

 Dave leapt out to follow her. "No! Stay there. I'll be back in ten," said Trish. "I've nearly had enough of everyone trying to order me about. I'm a big girl now and can walk past the pool on my own."

She strode past the pool and the pool bar, head held high, straight to the boutique, where she asked Estelle if she could borrow the scissors and razor, etc. Estelle beamed at her. She put everything and the bowl into a paper shopping bag. As she left the boutique, it hit her that Estelle must think she was going to shave Dave. She chuckled and headed to the reception. Two minutes later, she had the number of Jacquelyn and Noel's bungalow out on the other overwater bridge.

She knocked on the door, and it was opened by Jacquelyn, with Noel right behind her. The second he saw Trish, Noel grabbed Jacquelyn's arm and glared at Trish, letting her know she was not having access to her. But Trish just stepped up to him and ordered him out of the way. She was surprised that he backpedalled so quickly.

She turned to Jacquelyn, "I need you to come with me for about half an hour." Then looking at Noel, "This is girl's stuff. She will be back shortly. Nothing bad is going to happen to her."

 Jacquelyn backed Trish up, "Stay here. If you move outside this unit, I will cause the biggest scene you have ever witnessed." She had spoken in rapid French, but Trish had understood every word. Trish noted the crestfallen look that crossed his face. He was not at all used to having women stand up to him.

 Arriving at the bungalow, Trish guided Jacquelyn into the lounge and called Dave in from where he was reading on the deck. Then, directing Jacquelyn to the dining table, she reached out and unfastened her shorts. Jacquelyn half-heartedly resisted, but Trish ignored her, worked the shorts and panties down over her hips, and let them drop to the floor.

"Dave gave me a Brazilian this afternoon. I want him to give you one now. I refuse to be the only bald eagle at the party tonight."

Jacquelyn gasped, "I can't. Noel would not let me do that."

"Jesus, Jacquelyn, why would you let him decide on that? You need to make some radical changes in your relationship. You are getting a Brazilian, even if I have to hold you down."

She steered Jacquelyn onto the robust stool stored under the writing desk. Trish threw a towel over the padded seat, then directed Jacquelyn to sit, lean her elbows on the writing desk and relax.

"Dave, go and get some hot water and soap. The bowl is in that bag on the seat over there," she ordered him.

Trish saw the doubt in Jacquelyn's eyes as Dave started to cut away the excess hair, "Look, men love it bare, must make them think they are fucking some barely legal girl or something. Dave has been trying got get me to do this for years. So relax. Now open your legs wider. It won't take a minute. And wipe that look of desire from your face. You can't have him."

Jacquelyn closed her mouth and tried to look innocent, then ashed Dave, "Are you not scared that Trish will leave you for one of the other men?" 

Dave chuckled, "I guess if she were out having sex behind my back, I'd be worried. And many women do that; hell, I made love to plenty of them in my day. But my being there with Trish, I can see it is just sex, so as I said before, I'm far from comfortable, but our marriage had become very mundane, and the events of the last year have certainly changed all that."

Dave looked over to see Trish smiling, "Gee, Trish. My mates are never going to believe this. Shaving two pussies in one day."

"You're not to tell your mates anything about this. So close your mouth, or you'll catch a fly!"

Trish sat down opposite and watched Dave's progress. She noted that he was attempting not to touch Jacquelyn sexually. But when he got to the last few hairs on her labia, he looked at her for guidance. 

"Just grab them and shave them off; it won't bite you." So Dave took Jacquelyn's labia between his fingers and concentrated on removing the last of the hair.

Jacquelyn had been watching his progress intently, only looking up now and again to stare between Trish's legs. The first time she looked, Trish purposefully opened her legs so she got a good look up the legs of her new chiffon shorts. Jacquelyn snapped her head back and didn't look again for a while, but eventually, she couldn't resist and took another peek at Trish's bare mound.

As Dave ran his hand over her labia for the final time, checking that she was smooth, he noticed a drizzle of thick clear fluid leaking from her hole. Jacquelyn let out an embarrassed groan and hid her head in her hands. "Oh god, I'm leaking again; how embarrassing."

Trish got up, walked over and knelt beside her. She took her hand and told her it was normal for her to leak when a man touched her down there. And men find it very sexy to see a woman wet. "One of their biggest turn-ons, I think. Watch this!" And she reached down and dipped her fingers into Jacquelyn's juices.

 Jacquelyn tensed up and closed her legs. Trish told her it was alright, "I'm not going to seduce you. I haven't touched a female there since my teens." She pulled her hand from between Jacquelyn's legs and held her fingers to Dave's lips.

Dave was sitting back admiring his work; but was a million miles away, pondering what Trish had just said. Something he had always wondered about was suddenly crystal clear to him. 'She had had a relationship with a woman before they had met'. Then, as he came out of his daydream, Trish pushed her fingers against his lips; without thinking, he took her fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. "Nectar from the gods, nothing better on this earth," he exclaimed.

Realising what Trish had done, he thought, two can play this game, and he leaned forward, dipped his fingers in Jacquelyn's juices, and held them out to Trish. She hesitated but realised she would upset the show if she refused, so she leaned forward and licked Dave's fingers clean. Dave felt himself getting hard as Trish sucked on his fingers.

He saw Jacquelyn squirming around on her seat, watching them savour her juices, so he decided to push the boundaries a little further. Leaning forward, he inserted two fingers, pressed them deep between Jacquelyn's labia, and then offered them to Jacquelyn's lips. She took them into her mouth greedily, her hand dropping between her legs, her hips jerking at her touch.

Jacquelyn sucked on Dave's fingers, and when her tongue curled around and snaked between the two fingers, Dave went as hard as a rock. He only had light beach shorts on and nothing under them. They tented up, his prick twitching with his arousal. He grabbed between his legs to ease his discomfort. Trish saw this and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Masturbate for us. It always turns me on. I want to see if it has the same effect with Jacquelyn."

Dave shook his head; it was only in the last couple of months that he had plucked up the courage to masturbate in front of Trish during one of their roleplays and was still uncomfortable masturbating in front of her. But Trish just undid his shorts and pushed his hand onto his shaft. Then, when he still hesitated, she gave him a look that said, 'get moving or else,' so he slowly started jerking himself off.

The effect was immediate on them all, Jacquelyn's hand turned into a blur between her legs, and she pulled Dave's fingers back to gather more of her fluids, then back into her mouth. Trish dropped her hand into her lap and under the hem of her shorts. It took less than two minutes, and Dave let go. A spurt of semen shot high onto his chest. Jacquelyn looked to Trish, who just nodded to her, so she leaned forward, took Dave into her mouth, and sucked him clean while her hips squirmed around. Unable to stay still with the orgasm running through her slender body.

Trish stood, went to the bathroom, and returned with wet facecloths. Once wiped clean, she dragged Jacquelyn to her feet, "time to go. There will be plenty of time for this later." 

She oversaw Jacquelyn getting dressed again, guided her out the door, and walked her back to face Noel.

When she returned, Trish pulled a chair opposite Dave, "Do you want to fuck her?"

"Who!" Exclaimed Dave, with a smile on his face.

"You know who. Do you want to fuck her?"

"That's irrelevant, as I won't. I will never be unfaithful to you. So what brought this on?" asked Dave.

"When Jacques walked me around the pool last night, he asked about you. He said husbands fall into two categories, those that want their wives to fuck around, so they can fuck other women and those that are cuckolds. I have been thinking about it since. I just watched you feel up, Jacquelyn. So do you want to fuck her?" she asked again.

"Trish, I had a pretty easy time of it growing up. I had little trouble attracting the opposite sex. In fact, at one stage, my mates nicknamed me the 'defridgerator' because I seemed to be able to thaw the most frigid of ladies. But, just before I met you, I had become heartily sick of that life. I wanted to get married and have kids. But I knew I had little chance of meeting the right lady, living the way I was, sometimes with a different woman every few days. So I started skipping parties, or if I did go, I would stand on the sidelines and watch everyone playing their little games and trying to get shacked up."

He paused and looked Trish in the eyes, "You came on the scene. You were the most perfect woman I had ever known. I wanted you so bad I couldn't sleep. But I knew I did not deserve you. Yet you accepted all my advances. Why? I still don't understand why you chose me. But I made myself a pledge then that I would never fuck around and destroy our marriage. I have kept that pledge and intend to keep it. So whether I want to fuck Jacquelyn or not is irrelevant; I won't. But I was incredibly turned on just then. Mostly I think, because you instigated it."

"What if I told you I want you to fuck her?"

"Trish, I can't explain all my feelings about watching you being fucked. I have so many conflicting emotions my mind is in turmoil for days afterwards. Everything you are questioning right now is what I do every time. It seems to me you are trying to find answers about your own conflicts and balancing them against mine. And maybe you want me to sleep with another woman to ease your conscience. All I know is I don't fit into either of those categories that Jacques laid out for you.

I get incredibly excited watching you have sex. To watch you get so aroused that you totally let go, the good girl who never even swears or does anything wrong, breaking out and doing nasty things. Fuck! It's almost better than actual sex. Then the days afterwards, when you are insatiable, and we seem to be in that fantastic time of everything being fresh and new again, that is what I get out of this. So I don't know what I would feel about you asking me to fuck Jacquelyn, I guess if I saw it would make you happy, then maybe, but it's not what I'm here for."

Trish leapt over into Dave's lap and smothered him. Then, she lifted her head and kissed him hard. "I'm scared of your wanting another woman and my losing you because of what I have done. And yes, I do feel guilty about only thinking about myself and not your needs."

"No! Honestly, I get as much from this as you. But I need to ask you again; do you want me to go and book us out and give tonight away? I don't want all this to change us. And I worry that we may go too far with our game and fuck up our marriage."

 Trish hung her head, "No! It is far too late now. We need to look after Jacquelyn."

"I agree. I'm concerned about those guys. There are at least three of them that only want to fuck her aristocratic arse, to humiliate and demean her. So I'm going to have it out with Jacques over dinner."

"Please do. Jacquelyn deserves better; she's never had a man treat her right, never known sexual satisfaction with a man."

"There is one other thing we need to discuss sometime. You had an affair with your French exchange student when she lived with you. You had always evaded my questions when I asked you about that time in your life, and I never thought anything of it. But when you touched Jacquelyn before, it was like a light going on. Every comment you made about that time, and more importantly, things your mother said to me in the early days, flashed before me. It hit me that you were much more than friends with your foreign exchange student."

Trish gave Dave an alarmed, frightened look, "Would you disapprove of me or stop loving me if that was true?"

"Of course not, don't be stupid. With a past like mine, how could I ever judge anything you have done? Do you want to tell me about it?"

Trish hid her face on Dave's shoulder and murmured to him, "Can I tell you all about it tomorrow? I'm embarrassed and need to get my head sorted?"

They sat hanging on to one another, contemplating all they had discussed. The sun was going down when they woke again, still wrapped loosely together. Dave thought about making love and could feel that Trish was keen. But he pulled Trish up, and they dressed and prepared for the night ahead.

To be continued…