0 comments/ 7449 views/ 0 favorites The Retreat By: Whoratia She wondered how this weekend at the retreat would help her to clear her head and make sense of the mess her life felt like. The only reason she agreed to come was to get her persistent friends off her back. Now, as she approached the front desk, she knew it had to be a mistake. Her suitcase made an incredible noise as it passed over the cold stone floors. The rattle seemed to slice through the serene silence that hung in the air. She could not wait to reach her room, her privacy. Her cell consisted of a bed and a basin. On the bed was a carefully folded robe -- the one she was expected to wear for the duration of her stay. On the wall was a list of activities and the times they took place. She made a mental note of them and changed into the robe. At dawn it was meditation time. She made her way to the isolated pond she spotted during her stroll the previous day. Once there, she rolled out her mat and tried to be as comfortable as possible. The robe kept getting in the way, and after a cursory glance around she decided that she was private enough to strip down. She could now settle down and enjoy the feel of the grass against her legs, the stirring of the wind in her pubes. Towards the end of the session, she noticed a figure on the opposite side of the pond. He glanced at her and she noticed that he was as bare as she was. As dusk broke, she yet again followed her fellow guests to the garden. She carefully made her way around the pond to the place where she spotted her morning companion. He was already seated in the same spot he was that morning and as bare as the day he was born. She quietly removed her robe, leaving it hidden in the shrubs around the pond. The freedom to be naked in public invigorated her and she felt more confident than she had in year as she noiselessly made her way towards him. She slipped down behind him, sliding her pelvis down his back, but her hands firmly gripped his head to prevent him from looking around. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her moist labia against his buttocks. He did not struggle. He had an idea who it was and was intrigued to see what she would do. She slid her hands around his waist and felt his body momentarily stiffen as she started to caress his balls. Whilst gently stroking them, she started to plant wet kisses all along his shoulder blades and down his spine. She felt his breath speeding up and heard him utter low, encouraging moans. She continued to explore his body with her hand and lips, until she could not resist the urge any longer -- she had to feel him inside her. She shifted her position, now straddling him from the front, plunging his penis deep into her vagina. They both let out a simultaneous moan of pleasure. Slowly, rhythmically, she began to ride him, positioning him so that his engorged organ could continually, mercilessly, pound at her pleasure spot. When he tried to participate, she plunged his hand between them, encouraging him to apply pressure to her clitoris. Soon she was swooning with pleasure. He took advantage of her lapse in concentration. He threw her over onto her back and started beating at her pelvis with his. As her moans increased, so did his thrusts and soon they reached their harmonious crescendo. Soon after, she got up and made her way to collect her robe. She threw his a single backward glance, mouthing the words 'twenty three'. He nodded. She kept aloof the next morning, deciding to rather sleep in than watch the sunrise. She felt invigorated by her encounter the previous night and wondered what her friends would say about her unexpected source of guidance. During the afternoon siesta there came a, not entirely unexpected, knock on the door. She did not bother to get dressed, but rather let him in without a word. He was carrying a covered wicker basket and she wondered what he had in mind for the afternoon. He guided her towards the plain wooden bed and gestured for her to lie down. Out of the basket he conjured 4 lengths of satin ribbon and commenced tying her to the four posts of the bed. She complied without batting an eyelid. Next he removed a silk scarf, with which he blindfolded her, enhancing her other senses to compensate for the loss of one. She could feel his weight leave the bed and heard him running the water in the basin. After what seemed an eternity, be returned and her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the heat spreading between her legs, sending waves of heat all the way down to her feet. He had placed a hot, moist cloth on her labia! When he removed the cloth, she was surprised to hear the familiar gurgling of a can of shaving cream. She knew what was coming and could hardly contain her excitement. The rough feel of the razor against her labia always made her incredibly horny. He slowly, delicately, started to shave her nether regions and she could barely keep herself from crying out in pleasure. Time flew by, and before she knew it her hairy bush was reduced to a smooth, silky finish. She wished that she could move to run her fingers over the slippery surface. He, however, had other plans. Smelling the enticing scent of her vaginal fluid inspired him immediately. His mouth was immediately upon it, his five o'clock shadow gently scraping against the smooth skin. This immediately sent her into convulsions of pleasure. She could feel her clitoris pulsating, filling with blood. She wanted him more than anything. He sensed her excitement and decided that she was having way too much fun. He got up, moving away from her. This annoyed her. She wanted the pleasure to continue! She did not sense his return and was immediately startled by the cold, wet sensation on her pubis. Her hot clitoris screamed out in protest, but this only served to fuel her lust. He slowly and methodically rubbed the ice between the folds of her labia, diluting her fluids, but fuelling her desire. He carefully slid the remaining piece of ice into her labia and she could feel the cold spreading to her rectum. It was then that he decided to join her pleasure. He stuck his hot pulsating penis into her cooled crevices and proceeded to poke at the remaining ice in her vagina. The contrasting sensations of heat and cold drove her body into spasms of ecstasy. His slow lovemaking ensured orgasm after orgasm until she thought she could withstand no more. When he spilled his seed they both collapsed into the exhausted sleep of the satisfied. The next morning she checked out early. No use overstaying the usefulness of the exercise. She got what she needed out of the retreat and it was time to return to reality where she could relish the memory of her encounters. The Retreat Author's note: Well, it's been an insanely busy spring and summer at my house. Hectic life has kept me hopping, but I FINALLY managed to get back to writing. I decided to do a contemporary story this time. I will submit the chapters as quickly as possible, but I apologize in advance for delays between chapters. As always, I love to hear what you think. Cheers, Haremgirl * Leslie Drummond awoke with a smile, stretching languidly before rolling over to bestow a radiant smile on her slumbering bedmate. He lay relaxed, still soundly asleep. Her smile deepened as she catalogued every detail that was visible, from his thick grey hair, to the bristling growth of whiskers along his strong jaw, his broad chest, flat stomach and that tantalizing line of darker hair that trailed downward from his naval. He was beautiful. He was her love. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she murmured. She nibbled at his neck and shoulder, ruffling her fingers through the springy hairs on his chest. She teased his nipples to life before exploring his abdomen, snuggling against his side as her hand grew increasingly adventurous. "Well, at least part of you is awake," she giggled, eyeing the bulge of his manhood that was hidden by the blanket. "You're going to be the death of me yet," Cameron mumbled grumpily, but he was smiling. He gave a heartfelt groan of appreciation when her hand slid beneath the blanket and she gripped his cock, slowly stroking him to full arousal in her heated palm. He cracked his eyes open and peered at her with a grin. "For someone who was so reluctant to get involved in a serious relationship, you're turning out to be quite demanding," he drawled, reaching to pull her down for a kiss. Their lips and tongues tangled as she stretched out on top of him. She smiled down at him as she stroked the hair at his temples. "It's all your fault," she whispered. "Every time you make love to me, it leaves me wanting you even more." He kneaded her bottom, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "You'll get bored with me one of these days, and then maybe I'll get a rest." "Not in this lifetime," she laughed. Her eyes met his, and she sobered. "I love you." "I love you too, sweetheart. It's a bit of a shock each day when I wake up and realize that I really am this happy, that's it's not just a dream." She gave him a glorious smile and slowly impaled herself on his rigid length. "Does that make it more real?" she whispered. "Oh yeah." Cameron gripped her hips and lunged deeper into her welcoming heat. "Convince me more." Leslie rode him, sometimes with leisurely strokes, sometimes setting a frantic pace. She used her body to shower him with devotion. At his urging, she guided her breast to his mouth and moaned with delight when he teased and tormented first one swollen nipple and then the other. When she sat up, he savored the sight of her as she made love to him. He cupped her breasts in his palms, marveling at their plump softness. He craned his neck to watch his glistening cock as it parted her swollen folds and disappeared inside her with satisfying repetition. She was beautiful. She was his love. They finally reached the pinnacle, and they clutched each other tightly to ride the waves of pleasure. His cock throbbed rhythmically, as he pumped his seed into her, and her pussy clenched down with gratifying strength to milk every drop into her depths. They collapsed in a sweaty, boneless heap. They drifted, dozing briefly as they made their way back to reality. When they finally began to cool, she cuddled against his side, and he pulled the blanket up to cover them. He kissed her hair and grinned down at her. "Now that's how I like to wake up!" Leslie laughed delightedly and stroked his jaw. "We really should get up. The kids will be arriving in a couple of hours, and it wouldn't do for them to find us mating like rabbits." Cameron chuckled at the thought and pulled her closer against him. "Just a few more minutes won't hurt. Nick isn't supposed to get here until early afternoon. What time did you say Jessica was coming?" "A little earlier, maybe around lunchtime," Leslie said with a sigh, snuggling close. "I hope she's going to be happy with our news. She hasn't even had a chance to meet you. She might not like it that we're engaged." "From everything you've told me, she just wants her mother to be happy. Aren't you happy?" Cameron asked teasingly. "You know I am," Leslie murmured. "It's just that it might seem a bit sudden that we've decided to get married. I've been a widow for less than two years. Jess was always her daddy's little girl. She might take it hard that I'm remarrying so soon after his death, especially since I only met you six months ago." Cameron stroked her cheek with his thumb. "If there's one thing that you and I have both learned by being widowed, it's that life is too short. I never expected to fall in love with someone after Tricia died, but I met you and it changed my entire outlook on life. I don't want to waste a single day of the time we have together." "I know," Leslie whispered with a smile. "I feel the same way. I just hope Jess will understand." "I'm sure she will," Cameron assured her. "Justine was happy for us, why should her sister be any different?" "I know, but Justine had already met you a couple of times, and she's seen how happy you make me." "And that's what this holiday is all about, remember? Giving Jess and Nick a chance to get to know us and share our happiness." "Are you so certain that Nick will be happy about our relationship?" Leslie asked with a small frown. "What if he doesn't like the idea of his father marrying another woman? What if he doesn't like me?" "What's not to like?" Cameron teased, rolling to pin her beneath him. "He's going to be eating out of your hand in no time, just like his old man." He tickled her on her ribs, and the conversation degenerated into a laughing romp. When they finally paused to catch their breath, Leslie stroked his cheek lovingly. "We'd better get up. They'll be here in a couple of hours." Cameron flashed a devilish grin before bending to suckle her nipple into his mouth. He tugged it firmly between his teeth and then soothed it with hot strokes of his tongue. Leslie moaned and arched her back, pressing her breast more fully into his mouth. "On second thought," Leslie gasped, "there's no rush." Cameron chuckled as he tugged hard on her nipple. "My thought exactly," he replied. ********** Jessica Drummond gripped the steering wheel more firmly. She felt her car fishtailing as it struggled up yet another snowy slope. She had made good time until she turned off the interstate, but this back country lane leading to the cabin was barely passable. She had been forced to slow her speed drastically, and although she only had to cover a few miles, this part of her trip seemed to be taking hours. She frowned thoughtfully, as she carefully negotiated a gentle curve. She wasn't looking forward to the week ahead of her. Her mother had invited her to join her and her boyfriend at his lakeside cabin for the week between Christmas and New Year. Jessica was skeptical that Cameron Mitchell would be as wonderful as her mother had made him out to be. Surely, he couldn't hold a candle to her father. The thought of her dad made Jess's heart clench. Although it had been two years, it seemed like only yesterday when she had learned that James Drummond had died in a car crash. The shock and the pain of losing her father had only begun to diminish when she had learned that her mother was seeing a new man. Her parents had enjoyed a loving, happy marriage. The thought that her mother could so easily move into a new relationship made Jess feel angry and confused. How could she! When her mother had invited her for this "retreat", Jess had been tempted to refuse, but her sister Justine had insisted that it was time she meet her mother's new man. "Jess, I'm sure you would like him if you would just get to know him," Justine had insisted over lunch two weeks before. "Kevin and I have spent some time with them, and we both think he's just what mom needs in her life." "How can you say that? How could Mom just turn her back on Dad like this?" "Jess really! Grow up! Mom's only fifty years old. Did you honestly think she would remain a lonely widow for the rest of her life? Is that what you want for her?" "Of course not," Jess protested. "I just didn't think she would get involved with someone so soon after Daddy died." Justine's expression softened, and she leaned forward until she caught her sister's eye. "She didn't choose the timing, Jess. She met Cameron unexpectedly. It's not like she was on the prowl or anything. Besides, he's a really nice guy, and he makes her very happy. At least you should meet him before you condemn their relationship." Jess had sighed with resignation, pushing her pasta around on her plate with disinterest. "I guess I really should go. I've refused several invitations to meet him already. Mom's starting to get frustrated with me." Justine grinned at her. "You'll have fun, you'll see. Besides, you need a holiday. You've been working way too hard to finish your latest book. Now that it's done and off to the publisher, it's high time you kicked back and took in a little R&R." "Okay, okay, I'll go," Jess said with a groan. "Stop lecturing me and tell me how my favorite brother and nieces are doing." The remainder of their lunch had been spent with Justine providing all the details of her family's latest adventures. She had two daughters who kept her busy, and she was pregnant with baby number three. Jess had listened with fond interest, but she secretly admitted to being envious of her sister's happy home life. Her sister made finding the right man and settling down look so easy. At twenty eight, Jess was beginning to wonder whether she would ever find Mr. Right. Every time she visited her nieces, she felt a longing for children of her own. Her biological clock was doing more than just ticking. Every alarm bell in her body was clanging to warn her of the passing years. If she wanted to have kids of her own, she had better get on the ball and find her man. It wasn't that she hadn't tried. Jess had had several long term relationships, but none of the men had ever been able to measure up to her first love. Although she told herself to forget about the past, she was never able to completely forget the man who had stolen her heart in her first year of college. Surely he hadn't actually been as wonderful as she remembered him. Years of fantasies and poignant memories must have clouded her judgment. After all, if he was so fabulous, he wouldn't have broken her heart. She rounded another curve, and the cabin came into view. Jess caught her breath from the beauty of the view. The cabin was very large but rustic, and it was nestled among a thick grove of tall pines and evergreens. The exterior was made of rough hewn wood and stone, blending harmoniously with the natural surroundings. Several inches of snow was piled on the roof, and a thin stream of smoke rose from a stone chimney. It looked both tasteful and inviting, and in that moment, Jess was glad she had come. She parked her car and grabbed her suitcases from the backseat. She stomped her feet on the porch to get the snow off her boots and was just about to knock when the front door was flung open, and her smiling mother greeted her. "Oh Jess, I'm so glad to see you," she cried, enfolding her in a tight hug. Leslie hefted one of the suitcases as she herded her daughter inside and closed the door. "Did you have any trouble finding the cabin?" "No, the directions were perfectly clear. Wow, this is a lot bigger than the cabin I was picturing in my mind." Jess glanced around until her eyes landed on the tall, distinguished looking hunk leaning one hip on the dining room table. He was muscular but lean, and his jeans and plaid flannel shirt lent him a casual air. He was fit and tan, and his stance practically screamed 'confident but not cocky'. Jess's eyes widened slightly as they collided with his, and he smiled. Jess hated to admit it, but he was one hell of a looker. "Jess, this is Cameron," her mother said, placing her arm around Jess's shoulder and leading her forward. Cameron shook hands with Jess, and from close range, she could see how beautiful his green eyes were, fringed with thick black lashes and sporting crinkled laugh lines at the corners. No wonder her mother had fallen hard and fast for this guy! "It's nice to meet you," he said. "Leslie has told me so much about you. She's very proud of her girls, you know." Jess nodded, returning his smile with a sheepish grin. "Yes, I know. She's told me a lot about you too. I'm glad to finally meet you in person." "Why don't I help you with your suitcases," Cameron said. He retrieved her bags and motioned for Jess to follow him. "I'll show you around." Cameron led her down a short hallway and deposited her bags in a cozy bedroom with a double bed, dresser and low chest. The bed was covered by a cheerful patchwork quilt, and through a large window, Jess had a lovely view of the lake behind the cabin. "You have a bathroom here," Cameron said, indicating an ensuite bathroom, complete with a deep claw-footed tub and modern fixtures. As he led her back down the hall, he briefly showed her two other bedrooms, each with a private bathroom. He showed her the linen closet in case she needed extra blankets, and then he led her down a short connecting hallway. "And down this hall, you will find the sauna and hot tub," Cameron said. "Feel free to enjoy them while you are here." He opened a door and leaned aside so Jess could see the interior of the sauna. The room was paneled with rough wood planks, and two tiers of wide wooden benches had been built along the wall. There was a brick pit filled with lava rocks and a tile basin of water nearby. Cameron showed Jess a timer near the door, and then showed her a door that led to an outdoor gazebo and deck built around the large Jacuzzi. "Wow," she breathed. "This is awesome. I was expecting a quaint little cabin where we would be roughing it for a week. This is like some fantasy getaway." Cameron chuckled as he led her back to the living room. "This place belonged to my grandparents, and they had a large family. I renovated it a few years ago, and I knocked down a few walls and converted bedrooms into bathrooms so guests would have more privacy. It was my wife's idea to add the sauna and hot tub." "She was obviously a very clever woman," Jess said with a smile. "She certainly was," Leslie said as she linked her arm through Cameron's and smiled up at him. "She married you." Jess had expected to dislike this new man in her mother's life. Watching them exchange a brief but fond kiss, Jess was reminded of the closeness her parents had shared. Although she felt a twinge of nostalgia for the past, she was surprised to also feel a growing sense of acceptance and happiness for her mother's new romance. "I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry," Leslie said. "Why don't we eat lunch?" They pitched in to prepare sandwiches, soup and coffee, and they sat around the table to eat. The conversation was light, and Jess was soon laughing at the funny stories Cameron told of his life and his business. He owned a successful publishing firm that he had founded and built into an industry icon. "You must be pretty busy with your work," Jess said, giving him a questioning glance as she hugged her mug of coffee. Cameron shrugged and smiled at Leslie. "For the last few years since my wife passed away, I've done little else other than work. It helped to ease the loneliness. But then I met your mom, and that's all changing. I never thought I would be considering early retirement at fifty seven, but that's the way I'm leaning. Leslie and I want to spend more time together." Jess swallowed hard against the lump of longing that had risen in her throat. She could already see that her mom and Cameron were blissfully happy, and she didn't intend to stand in the way of their joy. Still, it was yet another reminder of her own failure to find love. She thought she had come close once before, but that was a long time past. Ten years was much too long to spend regretting what wasn't meant to be. Her eyes clouded at the memory of her college romance, and she pushed the thought aside to focus on what Cameron was saying. "I'm a big fan of yours, you know," he told Jess with a grin. "I don't usually read romance novels, but since I met your mom I've read all your books. You really are quite talented." Jess blushed with pleasure. "Thank you. I try to keep a low profile, which is why I write under a pseudonym. That way, I can pursue my passion but maintain a normal daily life. That's why I refuse to let my publisher put my picture on any of my books." "I just wish my firm was your publisher. With the success of your books, we could have made a fortune." Jess laughed and shrugged. "Well, you never know. I just finished the last book on my current contract. Offer me a sweet deal, and maybe we can work something out." Cameron nodded decisively. "I'll make sure we do that. My son handles most of the business these days. He's coming up today to spend the week with us, so you'll meet him. In fact, he should be arriving any time now." As if on cue, they heard the approach of a car, and Cameron went to look out the front window. He smiled as he recognized the vehicle. "That's him." He shrugged into a jacket and slid on a pair of boots. "I'll get us some more firewood and help him get his bags in from the car." Jess rose and started to carry their dishes into the kitchen. Leslie quickly joined her, glad to have a few moments alone with her daughter. "So what do you think about Cameron?" she asked. Jess hugged her tightly before holding her at arms length to give her a smile. "I think he seems very nice, Mom. And he's certainly nice to look at. The two of you make a lovely couple, and I can see why you've been raving about him." "I haven't been raving," Leslie protested. "Yes you have," Jess laughed, turning to load the dishwasher. "But that's okay. You deserve to be happy." They heard the two men entering the living room. "Go ahead and greet Cameron's son, Mom. I'll just finish up here and then I'll join you." Jess watched her mother leave the room before turning back to the dishwasher with a sigh. She finished loading their dishes and refilled her mug with fresh coffee before returning to the living room. "Jessica, I'd like you to meet my son Nick," Cameron said, drawing his son forward. His words barely registered with Jess, as her eyes widened with astonishment. She blinked several times, thinking that she had conjured this vision from her memory, but Nick was very real and staring at her with the same degree of shock. He looked just the same as she remembered him, except his features had matured. He was six feet four inches of the sexiest man she had ever met. His hair was black and slightly wavy, his eyes the same clear green she recalled, framed with thick lashes. His features were just as handsome as she remembered, strong chin, sensual lips, deep grooves beside his mouth that she knew would turn into dimples when he smiled. His body had matured too, and although he was lean, Jess could see that he was even more muscular than he had been at twenty one. Jess's coffee mug slipped out of her nerveless fingers and fell to the floor, splattering her legs with hot coffee. She gasped and jerked backward reflexively. "Oh sweetheart, are you alright?" her mother anxiously asked. The Retreat "I'm...I'm fine," Jess managed in a shaky whisper. She retrieved her mug from the floor with trembling fingers and set it on the table before she fled to her bedroom. "I'll just change my slacks and then I'll clean up the mess," she called. As soon as Jess reached her bedroom, she leaned back against the door and drew in huge gulps of air, trying to slow her racing pulse. She squeezed her eyes closed and a low, plaintive moan slipped out. It simply wasn't possible that the man she had been in love with for ten years was here. All the emotions she had tried so hard to suppress swelled inside, and she felt her eyes fill with tears. Every bittersweet memory that she had of Nick flashed through Jess's mind. She could see him laughing, playing football with his buddies, leaning over his textbooks to study, and worst of all, making love to her. Well, almost making love, although they had never actually gone all the way. Jess had been head over heels in love with Nick, but just when she had been ready to take the next step, he had severed their affair. Even now, the pain of his rejection left her feeling raw inside. Their relationship had been brief but seemingly perfect. Jess still didn't understand what had gone wrong between them. She had finally concluded that her feelings for him were simply not returned. She had entertained him for a brief time before he lost interest and moved to the next woman on his long list of girlfriends. Her heart twisted, and her stomach clenched with knots of dread. How could she survive a week here with him! So much for R&R, she thought bitterly. Her retreat suddenly felt doomed. The best she could hope for was to leave with her heart intact. ********* In the living room, Nick was struggling with his own surprise. He exchanged pleasantries with Leslie and his father, but his thoughts remained fixed on Jess. He was relieved when his dad suggested that he get unpacked, but the relief was short lived when Nick realized that Jess was in the bedroom across the hall from his own. He set his suitcases down, closed his bedroom door and fell onto his back across the bed. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers, groaning softly. Jess was even more beautiful than Nick remembered. She was slender, but her curves were bountiful and wonderfully feminine. Her hair was the same shade of rich auburn he often saw in his dreams, and her eyes were the same intense blue. He knew when she laughed her teeth would be small and white and even and her voice would be as smooth as melted butter. He could still remember the softness of her skin and the way she smelled. God, this wasn't happening! Nick had spent the past decade trying to get Jess out of his system. Every woman he dated was a pale imitation of Jess. She had tainted every romance Nick had had since he met her. Sex had become a necessity rather than a pleasure. Every time he sank into a woman's body, he wondered what it would have been like with Jess. Would she really have been as luscious and sweet as he had imagined? There was no point in speculating, since he would never find out! It had taken Nick five years to stop dreaming of Jess nearly every night, to stop looking for her in every crowd. It had taken another five years for her memory to fade into the dark recesses of his mind. He had been convinced that he had finally gotten over her, and in an instant, she was back in his life. One thing was certain, he thought grimly, this time he wouldn't let her break his heart. If anyone was going to be used this time, it wasn't going to be him! ********** Cameron and Leslie watched Nick disappear into the hall before turning to each other with matching frowns of puzzlement. "Is it just me, or did you get the definite impression that they knew each other?" Leslie whispered. "I'd bet my last dollar on it," Cameron said, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her down onto the sofa beside him. "Has Jess ever mentioned Nick to you before?" "No. I wonder how they know each other." Cameron cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her gently. His kisses quickly became more insistent, and Leslie leaned into his chest to respond more fully. "Whatever the story is between them," Cameron whispered as he nibbled at the corner of her mouth, "they'll have to sort it out. I've got my hands full with you." As he said the last, he slipped his hand beneath her sweater and unclipped her bra. Leslie gasped when he cupped her breast in his palm and began to toy with her nipple. "You naughty devil," she whispered with a grin. "I'll do my best to keep you busy." With a mischievous smile, Leslie rose from the sofa, grasped his hand and pulled him toward their bedroom. Cameron was only too happy to follow her, making her giggle when he seized her as soon as the door closed behind them. The Retreat My work days, as with many peoples, merged one with another, each one so mundane and routine that they became indistinguishable from each other, that is, until that fateful day when anything that could go wrong did. I prided myself on making the accounts balance, however creatively I had to do it, but that day no matter how hard I tried the figures just didn't add up and however manipulative I became the problem just got worse. By the end of the day my head spun and, unusually for me, I craved a drink. Normally I'm not a mid-week drinker and definitely not one to drink alone, so when my wife suggested I take Bob to the local pub with me it seemed like the best idea I'd heard all day, after all misery needs company. On the previous occasions that Bob and I had drowned our sorrows together the day always ended better than it had begun and everything seemed fine again, at least, until the next morning when we had to deal with our excesses. Bob had built, what he called, his 'Retreat' at the end of his garden as a place where he could escape from the world and relax leaving his cares and worries behind, or at least that is what he had laughingly said, but I was to discover that his retreat was more one of a parallel existence than an escape from his real one. After wandering the length of his garden, negotiating en-route large patches of overgrown nettles and shrubbery I began to wonder if he was in as all the curtains were drawn which, from previous visits, was unusual. Concluding that if he was 'at home' then he was obviously busy with something I turned to leave but my curiosity got the better of me so I peeked in through a gap in the curtains. I was amazed to see that Bob was sitting in his usual large wicker chair but this time his jeans were down around his ankles and he was slowly stroking his erect cock. I stepped back a pace, feeling like a voyeur having caught Bob 'pleasuring himself', but I was both intrigued at what he could be watching that would give him a 'boner' like that, and drawn to the sight of Bob's hand moving up and down his hard erection. By adjusting my position I could see about half of the screen of his laptop and saw what was obviously gay porn playing there. I don't know what surprised me the most, that Bob was wanking in his retreat or that he was doing it to gay porn. I leant forward again, ignoring the screen and watched as Bob stroked, my own hand going inadvertently to the growing bulge in my jeans. I was getting hard, quickly. I couldn't take my eyes of Bob and the thought of 'I wish it was me doing that for him', crept unbidden into my mind. A loud shout, Bob's wife, interrupted my thoughts and I turned quickly, my hand covering my embarrassment. "Is he not there?" she enquired as I stepped away from the window. "No, err . . . I don't think so," I replied, as my face began to turn a deep crimson. "Funny," she said, "I was sure that he was there. He must have gone for a walk. I'll tell him you called", she added as she turned and re-entered the house. It was as she disappeared that Bob emerged from his retreat looking anything but composed. "I didn't hear you," he stammered, "have you been here long?" Now it was my turn to stammer, "Only a few seconds," I lied, "I was just about to call out when Audrey shouted." "Good," he said looking extremely relieved, as was I having extricated myself, albeit by lying, from an embarrassing situation. At the pub later we were both quieter than usual Bob enquiring on several occasions about the length of time that I was outside his retreat. I kept up the pretence that it was only for a few seconds but I could tell that he didn't believe me. It was when he started to justify his actions that I was sure that he hadn't. "I sometimes have to, you know, relieve myself, just occasionally." I said nothing, taking a sip of my beer to disguise my discomfort. "We don't have sex very often now, me and Audrey," he continued. Luckily we were in a secluded part of the pub as Bob unburdened himself and out of earshot of the other customers. I took another sip of beer wishing that I was anywhere else but here, listening to him. "Did you see what I was watching?" he asked at last. I was wondering when he would ask me that and I still didn't know what to say to him, so I took yet another sip of beer. "You did, didn't you?" he said, for the first time looking intently at me, probably to see my reaction. "Yes, I saw," I said at last, thinking that it was probably best to get everything into the open. We both sat silently drinking our beer, neither of us knowing what to say next. I broke the silence. "I don't mind," I said, "I suppose most men are curious." Bob paused as if choosing his words carefully, "I'm not just curious", he replied. "Oh!" was all I could say for a while then, "What do you mean," although I wasn't sure I wanted to hear. "I've sucked a cock," he announced in a low voice leaning closer towards me. I looked around nervously making sure that no one was close enough to overhear his admission. Although we had been friends for many years I wasn't sure this was the kind of secret he should confide in me. "Who's?" I whispered, curiosity was getting a hold of me by now. Although a part of me didn't want an answer, the other part was intrigued. "Some one at work," he said, but didn't expand on that. I began to wonder as I knew all his workmates, whose cock he had sucked. Then a little voice in my head whispered, 'I wish it had been mine'. I shuffled in my seat, the conflict in my mind making me more uncomfortable than ever. Bob may not now be curious, but I was. Not about whom his partner had been, but what it would be like to experience another man's cock in my mouth. "I know that this must be embarrassing for you, I'm sorry," I heard him say. "No, its ok," I said, but it wasn't. I could feel the feelings I'd repressed from my early teenage years resurfacing. I was beginning to hate this conversation, not because of what Bob was telling me but because of my own cravings. Thoughts flooded my mind, thoughts of Bob and me together, naked, in bed. I pushed them to the back of my mind and rose to go. "You're disgusted by me, aren't you," Bob said, more of a statement than a question. "No, of course not," I replied, as gently as I could, "We all have feelings we'd rather not have." "You mean you have fantasised about being with another man?" he asked incredulously. "I didn't say that," I answered quickly, but not too convincingly. "But that's what you meant, isn't it?" he said it almost like an accusation. It should have been my turn to be defensive, to make excuses and go, but I sat looking into the bottom of my pint glass. "Yes," I whispered. As the relief poured from Bob's body the tension rose in mine. At last I'd said it, but what now. "Thank you," he said as his hand crept over the table to lie gently onto mine. I didn't . . . couldn't, respond. Although we had known each other for as long as I could remember, only loosing contact for a while when we attended different universities, I never suspected that Bob could have had a gay thought in his mind, yet here he was pouring out his feelings in a relatively public place. My own thoughts drifted back to our childhood and teenage years and to the 'rough and tumble' games we enjoyed together. Rolling about on the recently cut grass of a large meadow above the estate where we had grown up was, for me, an abiding memory but was it also the beginnings of his gay tendencies? I think it must have been for me. Erections came and subsided as we played although I rarely, if ever, did anything about them, I don't think either of us did. It was much later when I was thrown into the melting pot of university life that my yearnings manifested themselves to me. Watching other nineteen year olds boys wondering the corridors in various states of undress, sometimes almost nude; to answer phone calls or make coffee I thought had been the beginning for my own predilection for my own gender but was it those idyllic days in the short grass that was the real start for both of us? My thoughts were interrupted by Bob's invitation. "Would you like to come back to the retreat and watch the DVD with me?" he asked. Even though I'd avoided the very type of explicit material Bob was suggesting, I nodded. I knew this was one step too far, but somehow I couldn't refuse, it was as if the invitation was what I had waited for what seemed like a lifetime for. We stood and left the bar together and walked silently towards Bob's retreat. We both knew what would happen and that it shouldn't, after all we were both married men, but we couldn't stop ourselves. As we entered his wooden building Bob turned and kissed me. Gently, tentatively at first as if it was the first time he had kissed a guy, maybe it was, but his kiss became more urgent as his arms pulled me into a tight embrace. It was strange, kissing another man, but somehow more sensual than anything I'd experienced before. It was if the taboo was heightening the eroticism for me. I began to feel his bulge growing against mine as his hips pushed against me, his hands at my buttocks pulling me close against him. His fingers began caressing me through the denim of my jeans and I began to wish the fabric wasn't there and his hands were against my bare skin. I pulled away from him as the implication of what we were doing dawned on me. "It's too fast Bob, I'm not ready for this," I whispered. His hand began rubbing at my chest then travelled down over my belly and onto my bulge. I groaned as he caressed me, feeling my growing erection through the fabric, tracing the outline of my cock as he stared into my eyes. Any resistance crumbled under his touch. His fingers went to my zipper and began lowering it. He was still staring at me as my hand moved to the front of his jeans. I could feel his prick . . . God, how I wanted that prick . . . it felt so big, so big and so irresistible. His hand slid inside my fly and began to massage my cock through my thin briefs. My hands dropped to my sides, my own action forgotten as he fondled me. I stood, passive, as his fingers moved up and down the shaft, coaxing an ever increasing erection from me. As his fingers delved over my waistband and onto my bare cock if felt as if this was what my cock was truly destined for, the caress of another man. He kissed me again as he eased my erection out of my briefs. I watched as he began to wank me, his fingers moving over the head and down the shaft. My own hands unbuckled my belt and allowed my jeans to drop to the floor. Bob pulled my briefs down to follow them. I stood naked from the waist down in front of him, desperate for more of his touch. He slid down my body, taking what seamed like an eternity to reach my cock. Although, in reality, he'd barely touched me I could feel my orgasm building inside me, filling my groin. I closed my eyes, unable to look, as I felt his mouth covering my cock. It felt so good as his lips slid over me taking me deep, in one movement, to the back of his throat. My hips began to move as if they had a mind of their own, thrusting into him. I knew this was wrong but I had never felt so alive, so receptive to another's touch as now. At last I opened my eyes and I looked down at my cock sliding into his mouth. It was then I knew I had to experience the same, if only once. I reluctantly drew him upright and off me. We kissed again as my hands moved down his chest to his waist then to the front of his jeans. I unzipped him and reached inside, his briefs the only barrier between my fingers and his naked cock, but only momentarily. As I slid his jeans and briefs down I went to my knees in front of him. His cock stood high, inches from my face. This was only the second time I had seen another man's erect cock, expect on DVD or video, and the other time was his too, through the window of his retreat. I looked closer, examining the heavily veined shaft topped by a faintly purple coloured bulbous head. I reached up and my hand encircled the hard shaft and began to rub the loose skin up and down as I had done so many times to my own. As I squeezed on the up stroke I saw a small pearl of precum ooze from the single eye. I heard him groan as I moved my head closer, my tongue slipping between my lips to lick the end of his cock. Even the small drop seemed to fill my mouth with his salty taste. I began to lick up and down his shaft as I had seen so many times in porn movies, tracing the veins with the tip of my tongue until I reached the smooth head. As I slid the glans into my mouth I could understand why so many women love sucking cock. The feel of the head sliding over my lips, teeth and tongue was like no other. As my lips moved down his shaft and the cockhead went deeper towards my throat I began to regret what I had missed over the previous years. None of my teenage fantasies could compare to this reality. I removed him, once more to lick up the length of his shaft my tongue playing momentarily about his pisshole before my lips slide over him again and he lodged deep into my mouth. God, I loved it when the head entered my mouth and he slid deep into me. I began to gently caress his balls, arousing him even more. I could feel his body shuddering as I fellated him. This was indeed heaven, but what now? I wanted, craved, him to cum in my mouth, but could I swallow? Many years ago during an unusually adventurous bout of lovemaking I had cum over my wife's tits and she laughingly asked me to lick it off, but for some reason I couldn't and handed her a tissue. But this was different; it was juice directly from the source, and not mine. I hadn't time to deliberate further, Bob's cock pushed deep into my mouth, as deep as I could take him, and the cum jetted from him straight down my throat. I was disappointed, I wanted a mouth full of cum, just to see if I could swallow, but most of it was now in my stomach. As he pulled back I squeezed his shaft coaxing the last drops of cum out of him, letting them linger on my tongue to mix with my saliva, before I swallowed. As I stood upright he went down. No preliminary licking as I had, my cock went into his mouth and straight to the back of his throat. I could see his cheeks hollowing as he sucked on me, his throat muscles milking the head of my cock. I felt the cum ready to explode from me, my legs went weak and I must have groaned loudly. I watched as he removed me, positioning the head inches from his lips and opening his mouth wide, as his hand provided the final stimulation I needed. The cum shot from me into his open mouth, each jet hitting its target. He squeezed every drop onto his tongue and stood his mouth still open. I looked; my ejaculate covered the inside of his mouth, a large dollop resting in the hollow he'd formed on his tongue. I watched, enviously, as he swallowed, then opened his mouth again, it was empty. Next time, I thought, I'll do that. I realised then that this was not a 'one off'. I wanted his cock again and again, and I wanted him to have mine, in every possible way. Not tonight, but soon, tonight we were both sated. We lay together on the hard wooden floor playing gently with each others cock and balls, allowing a finger to circle the rim of our tight arseholes, the tingling informing both of us where our next encounter would take us. As we kissed again a voice echoed down the garden. "Bob, are you there?" As Bob stood he pulled his jeans back up and zipped them. I still lay on the floor looking up at him. "I'll be up shortly, love," he shouted as I caressed the still bulging front of his jeans. "Dave from next door is looking for you," Audrey shouted again. "Ok, thanks," Bob replied as he reached his hand down to help me up. "Tomorrow?" Bob asked as I dressed. I nodded, smiling almost embarrassingly at him. "I'll bring something," he added. I knew immediately what he meant, something to ease the way, something to allow my new fantasy to come true. As I stood in front of him his hand began to rub the front of my jeans but this time it wasn't there that I was wondering about. Would it hurt? I thought . . . as he entered me, or would the lubricant eliminate any discomfort. The women in the porn movies seemed to take anal penetration so easily, but what was their first time like? I would find out, tomorrow. As the night passed and my wife fussed over me, as usual, 1 began to realise the enormity of what had just happened. Many married people stray, it's a fact of life, but most marriages survive such indiscretions but when it involves a homosexual relationship it rarely does. When a partner appears to prefer someone of the same gender the betrayal seems far worse than it normally would. As I sat watching some inane program on the television I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Bob and I had been discovered. Two marriages ruined, four lives destroyed, but how could we resist now that we had tasted the delicious illicitness of our actions. I wanted him and I know he wanted me, but could we hide what was happening from everyone? We had too. I suppose two guys spending lots of time together can be easily explained, shared interests often result in an inordinate amount of time being spent with a friend, at least I hoped so. As I lay in bed that night feeling my wife 'spooning' against my back and her breasts rising and falling as she breathed, I began to question my attraction for another man's cock, but only for a few seconds. The more I tried to dissuade myself from continuing the relationship the more I realised how much I needed it. Whether it was Bob I needed or what lay, or stood, between his legs I wasn't sure. What was certain was I couldn't stop. What started as an indiscretion had instantly become a drug, an addiction, after just one incident. I could feel my wife's pubic bone pushing against me as she slept and I began to wonder if the next time that happened it would be Bob, with his hard cock pushing against me, seeking entrance. I began to get hard thinking about it, anticipating the event. The next day passed as in a haze, what tasks I had to complete were littered with errors. I wasn't always thinking of Bob and tonight, but my ability to concentrate had been compromised by my anticipation. I would find myself drifting off into a place of blank thoughts, as if escaping reality, or just refusing to think about tonight in case it manifested itself in a raging hardon that would soon be noticed. By the time I'd arrived home lust and fear had become one in the same, indistinguishable from one another. When eight o'clock came, the time we had arranged, I was almost shaking with anticipation. My wife inquired as to what was wrong and I said it was a problem at work that would eventually resolve itself. When I added that I was going to see Bob at his retreat for a while she was pleased, saying that it would relax me and take my mind off my problem; little did she know. In only a few minutes I was standing in Bob's overgrown garden, looking at the path that led to his wooden building. It was as if it was hiding itself away in the undergrowth, away from prying eyes and the condemnation that would result in disclosure. As I walked slowly down the long path towards the door I saw the curtains twitch as he looked for me. By the time I arrived he was standing at the open door moving to one side as I entered, locking the door behind me discreetly. As soon as I turned his hands were all over me, caressing, feeding my growing arousal. His hands went to my arse cheeks and pulled me almost painfully against him as his pelvis made small circular motions, his cock rubbing against mine through our denim. The Retreat We kissed, the reverse of yesterday's tentative first approach, this time urgently, tongues probing each other's mouth; but then gently, like the lovers we had so quickly become. As I rested my head onto his shoulder I could feel his kisses on my neck and his hands stroking my arse. We stood for a while, seconds or minutes, I couldn't tell, before beginning to undress each other. We took our time, shirts first, each button unloosened punctuated by small peeks on the cheek or lips. Soon we stood, both clad only in our briefs, mine black, his a purple colour, fronts bulging. There was no necessity to coax erections this time, the head of his cock was already poking above his waistband; mine, being less well endowed, still covered but outlined in the thin cotton fabric. We began to rub each other through the material as if prolonging the moment when we were both uncovered. When we could stand it no longer we each drew the other's briefs down, simultaneously, both of us sliding down to the hard floor. We pulled each other close again, but it was now bare cock rubbing exquisitely against bare cock. I looked down as his fingers encircled mine and began to wank me slowly, I did the same to his. Unbidden, together, as if our minds had become one, we lay down reversed; my head at his groin, his at mine. As his cock filled my mouth we both knew that unlike yesterday when this was the main course, today it was only an appetiser for what was to come. Still, the feeling as his cock slid in and out of my mouth was almost mind blowing in its erotic intensity. That such a simple action could induce such feelings in me of both love and lust in equal measure was something I was still trying to understand. I felt him leave my cock for an instant and heard him opening a drawer, then he was back. I watched as he opened a small box and removed a tube of gel from it. He was still sucking me as he squeezed a pea sized piece of lubricant into his finger. I waited in anticipation as his hand moved between my legs and his finger sought out my opening. The first sensation was of the coolness of the gel, then a hotness as his finger penetrated me causing me to flinch slightly. I wondered then what his cock would feel like and I must admit to a little trepidation. I watched as he added more lube to the end of his finger, smiling at me as he did. As his finger entered me I tried to relax as much as I could, almost wishing the preliminaries were over and, in spite of the discomfort, something more substantial was sliding into me. He pushed on, this time more insistently. A moments total relaxation of my sphincter and he was in. It was then that I realised I had stopped sucking on him and him on me. My first anal penetration, albeit only by a finger, was now complete. Again he removed his finger to apply more lube and his mouth covered my cock. I felt him enter me again, this time sliding in effortlessly. Bob took me deeper into his mouth as his finger fucked me, but I wanted more from him, however uncomfortable it may be. I eased back from him, almost reluctantly, and found myself on 'all fours', presenting myself to him. His cock was rock hard from my sucking and I watched over my shoulder as he lubricated it, anticipation growing along with my fear. I bent my head down onto the cold wooden floor as I felt his cockhead at my virgin arsehole. As he began to enter me with his stiff pole I couldn't help but tense up, he seemed so big, and my hole so very small. The impression of heat became intense as his glans entered me and I bid him to pause. I breathed deeply as he began again to push into me another fraction until he once more encountered my sphincter. As I bore down onto him my hands went behind me to pull on his hips. It was as if a dam had broken and he slid into me to the hilt. The sensation was electric, the combination of heat and fullness overpowering me. Although my erection had subsided slightly it bore no relationship to my arousal, my whole body felt like one big receptacle, just for him. I looked over my shoulder at Bob, "Fuck me," I whispered to him. He began with almost imperceptible movements, but soon his thrusts were deeper, more powerful, until his cock was almost out of me before he drove it back in to the hilt. I was being fucked by another man, and loving it. He reached over me and began to wank me. Yesterday that alone would have been enough to send me into paroxysms of pleasure, but not tonight, it was his arse fucking that was overpowering my senses. I removed his hand and began pushing back onto his cock, driving myself onto him, impaling myself onto his stiff rod. I heard him groan and actually felt his cock beginning to pulse inside my tight channel as he unleashed a torrent of cum into me. I swear I felt every pulse jetting into me, or I thought I did. As his cum filled me the 'going' became even easier as he drove in and out, not a trace of discomfort, only indescribable pleasure. I felt his cock going limp inside me and soon, too soon, my sphincter pushed him out, no control I had could stop it however reluctant I was to let him go. Bob slumped back onto the floor, his face red from his exertions, mine from the ultimate pleasure he had given me. As I lay alongside him we kissed yet again as he stroked my hardening prick. His was limp against his thigh but somehow I knew he still wanted me, still want me to do to him what he had done to me. As I watched him smearing lube onto my erection his own cock stiffened again. I suppose I expected him to take up the same position as I had but instead he threw one leg over me and lowered himself down onto my now hard cock. With barely a pause my prick slid into him, he must have noticed my surprise. Unlike me, Bob had paved the way by using a vibrator when he masturbated making his first penetration by a real cock so much easier than mine had been. This I didn't find out until later when we used vibrators on each other. To be simultaneously fucked and sucked was something we both learned to love. Probably because of that as he rode my cock that first time his erection didn't subside, but grew harder. I reached out to him, using his own movement to wank him, my hand gripping his cock, but staying still. Even with his previous penchant for wanking with the vibrator his arsehole was still so tight I knew I couldn't last long. I suppose Bob knew that because he paused, his hand covered mine and we stroked his cock together. As he began moving again I looked at the grimace on his face and knew he was about to spill a second load. I opened my mouth straining my neck to get as close to him as possible. My open mouth caught the bulk of his discharge as my own cock erupted into him. The amount of his second ejaculation, I think, surprised us both. A positive torrent of cum jetted from him and I swallowed every salty drop. He continued to ride my cock until it became too limp and slid out of him, then he slumped down onto me. We lay together for a while, limp cock against limp cock. Mine showed some signs of life but his remained soft after his double climax in such a short while. He moved to one side and wanked me as we kissed, his tongue exploring my mouth, mine remaining almost passive. His stroking became harder and faster as his lips pressed against mine. As my hips rose to meet him, my second climax imminent, he broke off to take my cock once more into his mouth. I ejaculated once more into his mouth, but with much less cum than before. Sliding up my prone body we kissed, sharing my own cum mixed with his saliva. I could taste the difference between my own ejaculate and his, something I had never considered before, that each person's cum tasted different. Time sped passed as we lay, naked, Bob's head resting onto my chest as I stroked his hair, my other hand busy at his groin. I found out I gained considerable pleasure playing with his limp cock, almost as much as his hard one, but not quite. The softness of his shaft was in stark contrast to what had been so recently in my mouth and we once more turned into a '69 position to suck on each other. Both of us knew that an erection would be almost impossible but the eroticism of the act still aroused us mentally. Now that Bob was limp I found I could take all of his cock into my mouth to the root and allow my tongue to swirl over the end. This was a pleasure we had yet to come, the feel of our cocks rising in the other's mouth. In the dawning of our relationship we were almost fully erect before we began 'playing' with each other, but as our excitement diminished slightly with further encounters, we discovered the pleasure even a limp cock can give, and take. Soon we knew it was time to return to our wives. We agreed reluctantly to limit our meetings to twice a week in the retreat and to be closer, as a foursome, than we had been to eliminate any suspicion. Not that we would ever include our partners in any sex games, those were reserved for us . . . alone. Like it or loath it? Please rate it, with comments. The Retreat Chapter 1 Isabelle and Alex had reconnected after a four month dry spell. Most people wouldn't call their last four months a dry spell. Even when they were at their worst they still managed to make love 2-3 times per week. The intimate connection they shared was beyond making love. It required time and dedication that took more than the hour or so they afforded to spend making love throughout their time ill. Although they self –identified as a BDSM couple, they wanted to experiment with so much more. They wanted to explore every aspect of there sexuality with each other. They identified as practitioners of yoga and as an extension of that, tantra. ~~*~~ On this warm Saturday, Alex was driving with Isabelle sitting in the passenger's seat. They had taken the smaller car, not because of the fuel economy, but it allowed Alex to sit much closer to Isabelle. They were on the open road. The chose a two lane highway that meandered through towns that had general stores and mom and pop shops. The 4 lane monolith that could have gotten them to their destination faster, could be seen off in the distance. At one of the many villages along the way, they had stopped at an ice cream parlor and Isabelle was now working on her strawberry milkshake. The milkshake itself, a beautiful piece of art made with love by the soda jerk. She had started with vanilla ice cream and added more fresh strawberries than should have fit in the cup. With vanilla, and "Ma's" homemade preserves she blended it to produce a drink that was rich with strawberry flavor. The flavor came from real strawberries and not from chemical C568. The soda jerk even let them drink the left over from the metal cup. As they continued their drive along this soulful road, they listened to music and chatted. Isabelle, squirmy in her seat asked: "Where are we off to Alex?" Alex ignored the question and continued to chat on banal subjects, the weather, this shop or that. As Alex drove, he kept looking over at her and appreciating the view of his gorgeous wife. She was wearing a flowing summer dress. Her auburn hair glowed in the sun. Her bright blue eyes looking at and appreciating the sites and colors with the eye of an artist. It always amazed him how she pointed out various shades of green in a leaf or the reflections of color in a pool of water with a drop of oil in it. Her ability to see the world through the wonder filled eyes of a child was one of the traits he loved in her. Her play collar had various crystals on small chains that that hung and focused the view on her low cut top and ample cleavage. He had his hand in her lap. With her skirt lifted he stroked the inside of her thigh as they drove. It was the perfect road trip day. ~~*~~ "Isabelle?" "Yes Alex?" "We've arrived, and our time here over the next three days, your play collar won't be wearable. I brought your day collar. Let's get it on you." Isabelle leaned in and Alex undid her play collar and put on her day collar. The day collar was their secret. To most people it looked like a pretty necklace. It was thicker and bolder than most necklaces. Alex would hug Isabelle, and press the knot in the necklace that sat on her chest and remind her that she belonged to him. As Isabelle leaned in she asked, "But where are we?" "The Silver creek retreat will be our home for the next three days." ~~*~~ When checking in, the proprietor, Trevor, invited them to tour the grounds with him. The desk staff took their bags. They accompanied the proprietor to view the grounds. Isabelle held Alex's hand through the tour as Trevor showed them the grounds. The tour started at the gardens, which were open twenty-four and seven for meditation. The next stop was beyond the gardens where he showed them the hot tub, a huge affair that accommodated twenty guests. The mid-day yoga class was in session. They did not see the studio. Trevor informed them that classes occurred at five AM and every 4 hours after that ending with the sunset class at nine PM. The tour ended by the water where Trevor showed them the waterfront and pointed to the path that led to the nude section. Trevor presented them with an MP3 player and informed them it plugged in in their room where the tantra sessions were to be practiced if they wished. As first time visitor's Trevor recommended they lock their devices away so that the focus of the weekend be their partner. He provided a sample itinerary that they could follow if they were unsure where to start. ~~*~~ As Alex and Isabelle were led back to their room, Isabelle contemplated the grounds that they had just seen. She seemed troubled. Although they considered themselves tantrika, they had long ago decided that monogamy needed to be a core belief. Isabelle felt uncertain as to this truth when she had seen the grounds. With the other parts of their sexual lifestyle she knew that acceptance of others had to be necessary to find herself. Alex sensed her distress, and suspected he knew the cause. As Trevor left them at their door Alex took Isabelle in his arms, and said: "We haven't changed baby girl, it's just you and I. Yes it is a tantric resort, but a yoga resort and a nudist resort. Any sexual activity happens here in our room, not anywhere else. Part of the package was the ability to order a tantric coach, or we can follow the meditations on the MP3 player. It is just you and I. There will never anyone else, ever." He said this as he hugged her and pressed the knot on her collar. With the knot pressing into her chest and Alex's words, she relaxed and focused. When Alex opened the door to their room, her fears disappeared. The room itself looked like a sunken living room, with a carpeted walkway around the outer edge of the room. The sunken part was filled with pillows of all shapes and sizes. Along the walls were a TV and what appeared to be various types of exercise equipment. Isabelle ran to the pillows and laid herself in them. "This is wonderful Alex. I love it." Alex joined her on the pillows and they snuggled. Soon they kissed. As always when they started kissing, neither of them remembered how, but they were naked. Alex told Isabelle that he wanted to show her the shower. The shower was a large affair; as large as a room. Built of natural rock, it reminded them of being in a cave. The shower boasted a bench in the center of the floor, and 4 giant showerheads embedded in the ceiling. You entered at one end, and walked into this grotto. A curtain covered a glass door at the far end. The curtain could be withdrawn and the door opened. Outside, the shower continued. The sun shone on you in your own little natural rock enclave with smaller showerheads every 2 feet or so. Each showerhead had a control, so that you could generate the water you wanted where you wanted. Isabelle hugged Alex when she saw the shower; they stepped in and turned on all four internal shower heads. As their man made warm rain fell, Isabelle looked into Alex's eyes and kissed him with her eyes open. Whenever she kissed him like this, with her eyes open, they softened and Alex knew himself to be the only man in the world. He became hard. Isabelle continued to kiss Alex. Their kisses grew in passion and intensity. Their tongues intertwined, they licked and kissed. Alex lay Isabelle in the center of the room on the bench. With the shower providing a warm rain that fell gently on their already wet bodies, Alex kissed Isabelle. First he kissed her on the lips, then started to move down, to her chin, then her neck. Each of her perfect nipples came under the onslaught of Alex's tongue. Soon he kneeled between her legs, kissing her upper thighs. With the droplets of rain falling and landing on her body, he began to play with her vagina. As he moved his face close to her sex, the puffy outer lips parted to reveal her inner lips, engorged, wet and deep pink from her excitement. Alex started to lick her. First her thighs then the outer lips, Isabelle began to quiver with excitement. The water falling reminded them of making love in the rain. Alex inserted two fingers and felt the spongy area on the front of Isabelle's vagina swell; her G-spot. He settled into a rhythm, licking her clitoris and rubbing her G-spot. The amount of pressure that he applied to her G-spot, while still obtaining moans of pleasure surprised to him. Within 2 minutes Isabelle's vagina contracted around Alex's fingers, and got wet. She had come from his oral play. When her orgasm resulted from oral sex, Isabelle was overcome with emotion, and wept. Alex held her until Isabelle came back to herself. Alex slid Isabelle until her bottom rested at the edge of the bench. Standing at the edge of the bench, he lifted her legs and rested them on his chest. Then as he said, "Isabelle you belong to me." He penetrated her. The rain from their shower tumbled on them, warm and gentle, as Alex thrust into Isabelle. He held her legs close to his body and looked on his beautiful wife. Although the position was awkward, he came quickly from the combination of the beauty of his wife, their position and the water that fell on them. After they had dried off they wrapped themselves in ridiculous fluffy white robes with the retreats logo on them. They held hands as they headed out to the balcony to sit and enjoy a glass of wine.