5 comments/ 152362 views/ 2 favorites Pirate Days By: Jasmynn_Brown Randi casually asked how often I had JJ with someone other than my husband. The question popped up as we headed home from a shopping trip. It was late fall and already feeling like winter, when Randi suggested we go check out the department stores for summer clearance items. Deeply discounted swimsuits caught our attention. I had picked out a modest one-piece but Randi made me put it back, insisting that I get something a little more revealing. "A man likes to show off his wife," she told me, as she found something with a low-neck line. Then she spotted a bikini that she insisted was perfect for me. Trying it on I felt practically naked but Randi said it was made just for me and she got several nearby male customers to voice their approval too. "I don't know what JJ is, I said. "You know, Jack and Jill." Randi said, as though everyone should know what she meant. When we came to a stop sign I looked at her, giving her the best blank stare I could muster, before driving on. "Jack and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after." "I'm clueless about what you are talking about," I told her. Randi turned around to check on the children in the back seats of the mini van. They were zonked out, tired from our shopping trip. Satisfied we could talk, Randi continued: "Have you ever wondered why Jack and Jill, that is JJ, had to go UP a hill to get water," Randi asked. "And why did it take two people to get that water?" I knew I was going to get an answer only Randi could give, so I said, "I don't know, you tell me." "Sex," she said, "it is all about sex. Look, we have Jack and Jill, man and women, male and female. They are taking a well-worn path up the hill to quench their thirst. That path is foreplay, hugging and kissing, with the hill being ever increasing sexual excitement." "See Jack; see Jack run; see Jack run up Jill's hills. Leaving her hot lips, he scampers over to the lobe of her ear then along her neck. Her breasts loom ahead, like volcanic cones they tower over the surrounding landscape. Up he climbs, pausing to grope her tits and kiss her nipples. On he goes; passing through the forest of her pubic hair, then up her mound, lingering around her clit, his wet lips and flicking tongue stimulate it to elation. See Jill's breathing becomes increasingly labored the higher she climbs in pursuit of pleasure. To Jill's vagina Jack finally comes. She greets him with a warm welcomes as he lower his rope into her moist hole. Jack repeatedly dips into Jill's well, her water is gushing now. Little quakes ripple across her pussy, an earthquake is imminent. Jack accelerates his dipping until in a spectacular eruption, the crown of his penis head, burst open, his magma shooting out, caressing the walls of her cavern. Jack falls breathlessly on Jill, hugging her tightly as he surrenders himself to her overpowering lure. His ejaculating sperm and orgasmic rush, push Jill over cliff of orgasmic delight. With trembles and shaking, she squeezes his penis until his last drop resides in her. Then together they tumble back down the hill, satisfied for now but sure to be thirsty again tomorrow." Randi finished with a pleased look on her face for having been able to decipher the code. As for me, Jack and Jill took on a completely new meaning! From the corner of my eye, I could tell Randi was looking at me, still waiting for me to answer her question. "I have not done 'JJ' with anyone other than my husband Ken," I said. "I'm a married woman." "Do you ever want to though," she pressed. "A lot of married women do JJ with other men you know." "Look, I don't want to incriminate myself, so let just say I MAY have done some fantasying. Why are you asking?" "Oh I was just thinking about that lecture we went to a while back, that all." Randi and I had gone to hear a lecture by a guest speaker at our community college. Don't get me wrong, I'm not an intellectual or anything like that, but when you live in an isolated place where work dominates life and sagebrush is your scenery, for your mental sanity you take advantage of those opportunities to hear a visitor sings at a local church or scientists speak at the college. It was a fascinating talk about how thoughts form and come to life. That we can think about our thoughts, was a new thought for me. For me, I see my thoughts organized into many rooms. For example, there is the fun room, the lover's room, a history room, a friend's room, even a Holy room that glows with God's presence. The one our lecturer spoke about at some length was the 'pre-planning' room. On a table are numerous little scraps of paper, each with a germ of an idea on it. They get there because of an experience that triggers a flash of an idea, a 'pre-thought' the scientist called it. So fast is that first thought we do not even realize it. There they sit, out of sight, ready just in case you might want them. I found it interesting that when we give any of those thoughts the least bit of attention, they start to grow. "How about you," I asked Randi, "have you done JJ with someone other than you Casey, your husband?" "Not recently." I waited for her to say more but she was silent. I knew she would tell more when she was ready so I didn't press the issue. We lived in a blue-collar town, with oil, gas and coal fueling the economy. It was one of those towns that was big enough to have something going on and small enough that you knew who was doing it, especially if you have a friend like Randi. She had a way of opening people up and sharing even the most private side of their lives. We were both 'stay at home' moms now. Randi was a RN and I a nurse's aide. Once in a while we did fill in work, while the other watched the kids. With young children, we found it natural to do things together. Sitting at a park, watching the kids play, Randi would bring me up-to-date on what was going on or she would be regaling me with stories of her days gone by. She was a natural leader; I made a good follower. She liked to go to the library and after spending time in the children's section always picked up a book for herself. She liked art but the closest thing to an art museum was a poster store in the mall, so we would visit there also. There was one poster she always stopped to look at. It was an old abandoned farmhouse, windmill in the background. The poster read: "They are gone now, the weathered faces and leathered hands. We are left to ponder the love and laughter, the struggles and pain. Their memory has evaporated, their handy work is crumbling. We stop to look at the past and see the future." After staring at it for a while, I would see her eyes moisten and her chin quiver. I never asked why and she never told me. She was slim and trim with dark flashing eyes and a ready smile. Her dress set her apart from the rest of us. It made me think of a pirate, with boots, trousers or skirt, blouse and a bandanna. It made her look cute and sassy, which fit her personality just fine. Her stories had that 'air' about them too; full of adventure from her days traveling the on the high seas. It was those vagabond days where she picked up her "pirate" style of dressing, at least for those days when she wasn't wearing a bikini or less. I mentioned to her once that she was not 'normal.' "Thank-you Dawna," she said, "Who wants to be normal, average, run of the mill!" The way she told the story, she worked at a seafood restaurant near a pier in San Diego, where she met a couple of young French men who were traveling the world on their catamaran sailboat. Beginning in France, through the Panama Canal and up the west coast they journeyed as far north as the bottom of Alaska before turning south again. From San Diego, they were getting ready to head out to the Islands in the mid and south Pacific. Pierre wanted Randi to join them but Marcos was not keen on the idea but finally consented. Randi wasn't easily embarrassed and found it easy to talk about just about anything including sex. "Life is sexually transmitted," she would say. She was quirky and it took a little bit to get to know her, but once you did, you could not help but love her. "I learned a lesson from the weather," she told me. "It pays no attention to criticism, so neither do I." Saturday night at the YMCA pool was a regular for a number of our friend. We would take turns watching the children in the kiddy pool, while the rest of us would swim, play some water sport or just sit on the pool edge or hot tub and talk. On a hot summer evening, there is something about being half-naked or for some of us 9/10 naked, that allows the conservation to drift easily into the more intimate side of life. For example, Susan volunteered that her husband had had a vasectomy and she was sure it increased his sexual appetite and made him a better lover. Karen let us know that her husband's hands were so rough that she would not allow him to touch her in her sensitive areas, except with his mouth and penis of course. Debby said she had had five boyfriends and wished she had married the first one. That made us catch our breath, and the conversation took a new direction, men problems, divorce and remarriage, women who love too much, then we drift on until we were back to diet plans and beauty aids, children and the hot weather. It was a fun time and we didn't seem to tire of our talk. Back at the kiddy pool, I sat down next to Randi. She was watching the children splash around but with that far away look one has when they are in deep thought. When she finally noticed me, I asked her where she had been. Her first impulse was to argue that she had been right here, but quickly saw that as her friend, I knew she had something important on her mind. "Things are continuing to fall apart with me and Casey," she said. "I don't know what to do. I was escaping my troubles by remembering my carefree pirate days, sailing the high seas, visiting the islands, swimming in the warm lagoons, looking for that buried treasure, which we all knew, didn't exist." Her eyes took on that far away look again as she spoke of those adventures. "When we would see a rain shower headed our way, we'd strip naked and when it hit, lather up, praying the squall would last long enough to rinse the soap off of bodies." "Those two guys really spoiled me too. When I signed on as a ship's mate, I was sure it would be heavy on the 'mating' part, with a good dose of cooking and cleaning. However, it was not like that at all. They were very neat and clean and loved to do the cooking." I waited for her to continue but when she didn't I had to ask, in a tone trying to downplay my curiosity, "and, how about the mating part?" Randi stared at me for a moment as though she could read my mind. "Do you really want to know?" she asked. After looking around, making sure no one else was near, I said, "Of course I do or I wouldn't have said something." Randi gave a faint smile, knowing she had extracted the truth from me. "I was Pierre's girl, so I slept in his bed. He treated me like a lover, never demanding or pushy, but sweet and gentle. We fell in love. Giving myself to him made me happy and complete. There was a lot of passion when we made love! He had some erotic French novels that he would read to me. At first, he would have to translate but I was soon catching on. After some steamy scene, I stop him and say, 'I can make that come to life for you if you like.' Then I would use my best actress skills, and, well, you know the rest of what happened." "What about Marcos," I pried. It was Randi's turn to glance around before she answered. "We had been two weeks at sea with quite a bit of cool rainy weather. Finally, we caught a warm sunny day so we had hung our cloths out to dry and we were soaking up the sun ourselves. I was still new to this seafaring life so I had a bikini on but Pierre and Marcos were in their birthday suits. I glanced over at Marcos and saw he was dozing with a nice erection. I nudged Pierre and pointed to Marcos. "I wonder what he is dreaming about," I said. Pierre gestured toward Marcos and me, as though saying 'you two,' then making a circle with his thumb and finger on one hand, moved his middle finger in and out of the hole with his other hand. I hesitated until he motioned for me to go. Leaving my bikini behind, I crawled over the deck to where Marcos was. My kiss startled him awake. "Captain has given me permission to fuck you, if you'll have me," I told him. "With Pierre it was love and passion, with Marcos it was animal lust in a playful way. On many a warm afternoon, he would say, "Let's have some fun in the sun." He'd chase and capture me, then tie me up. There wasn't a place on my body that he didn't explore. He would suck my clit until my juices flowed and I was screaming for mercy. Then I return the favor, letting his cock rock my pussy until his juice flowed. Whenever I see a picture of a mermaid on the stem of a ship, I'm reminded of the many times I faced the breeze on my knees, while the first mate steered my rudder. We would finish our game with his hands on my hips, moving in harmony with the slow rock of the boat, until we arrived at a place called paradise. We had a lot of crazy fun!" "Paradise," I said, "I'd like to go there someday, live a carefree life where happiness abounds." Randi gave a little nod toward Dan, who had just come over to the opposite side of the children pool, and was now trading little splashes with them. "I've been watching him, watch you," she said. "Without knowing how I know, I'd say he would like to rock your boat and plant his seed in your garden paradise." "Randi," I scolded, "I'm a married woman. Besides I heard Susan bragging that he had a vasectomy and their love life has never been better." I continued to mull over Randi's statement. Here I was, practically naked and now I'm surprised that a man has taken notice. Yet in that pre-planning room I picked up a little thought and mulled it over before letting it float over to a pile called desire. I secretly was thrilled that Dan had noticed me, a secret even I was just beginning to realize. "It's not just your swimsuit," Randi tried to assure me. "Look, I am just as bare as you are and he looks right past me looking at you. From what you have said, I am even more convinced he is on the prowl. There is something about bragging that betrays the truth. I'm going to do some investigating," she said as she stood up, adjusted an imaginary detective's hat and waded across the pool, settling next to Dan. They were having a lively conversation. A little feeling of pride swept over me as I watch my friend deftly operate. Poor Dan didn't know he was sitting next to a truth detector capable of opening him up with the skill of a surgeon. I watched Dan closely, and it did appear that he looked my way quite a bit; smiling, laughing, as they conversed. With obvious stares, our eyes would lock. I allowed my mind to go back to that place called desire, where I found that little thought and began to play with it. My gaze had drifted down to the budge in his swimsuit. 'I'm a married woman.' I reflected on my own words. That means, I know how to do 'it.' I'm good at 'it' and enjoy doing 'it.' I let myself imagine I was sucking his cock. A married woman knows what a man likes. My tongue licked the bottom of his shaft where it meets the penis head. Like a lollipop, I capture his cock with my mouth, moving my lips and tongue around the rim and over the head. At first gently, then with stronger and stronger sucking, until his tonic came squirting into my mouth. A married woman knows the taste of a man and swishes his treat around before swallowing the sticky goo. Desire had removed the wrapping from my secret so I now openly felt longing. Embarrassed by how quickly copious amount of juice flowed from my vagina, I let my husband Ken know I was ready to leave. Taking the girls hands, I hurried off to the shower. Once clean, I dressed quickly then helped the girls. When Randi came in, I asked her what she had learned. "He's hungry, very hungry, and has his prey in sight. He is picking up signals from you that say you are available. As for what I said about your bikini, I was wrong; stop wearing it until he finds a new target or his wife put sex back on the menu. The poor guy is smitten by you and has gone to 'animal mode.' Like most males, he doesn't even realize what is happening to himself." Suddenly Randi stopped. Wrinkled her nose, then eyed my swimsuit. Ann came in from the shower area just in time to see Randi pick up my bikini bottoms and take a sniff. Flushed with embarrassment, I held up my hands and said, "It is not what you think." Randi turned and seeing Ann motioned for her to come over. "I think we need to do an intervention." Turning her attention back to me, she said in a rather accusatorial tone, "Who the hell do you have the 'hots' for?" "My husband .. only .. of course," I lied, stumbling over my words. Ann looked stupefied as Randi stared at me. Holding up my panties, she shook them in my face. "A man can pick up this signal a mile away. I hope to god you know what you are doing." The anger in her voice was obvious as she threw the panties down. Randi pulled us together into a small circle with arms around each other. "Look," she said, "there are just three ways we can know something; by our experience, by someone else's experience or by Divine revelation. Perhaps Ann can speak to the Divine part, but I can tell you from my personal experience that mistakes are easy to make and hard to undo. Where you are headed, you do not want to go. Trust me on this." We gave each other hugs, then departed. Snuggled in bed next to my husband that night, I give him a brief version about Dan and Susan, that they were having some marital problems. "What is it like," I asked, "when a married man suddenly get cut off from having sex?" Ken thought for a moment, "I don't know and I don't want to find out," he said, giving me little tugs until I climbed on top of him. I was glad to relieve my built up sexual tensions with the man I was supposed to do it with. But a few minutes into our lovemaking I closed my eyes, imagining I was a bad girl and it was Dan's cock filling my cunt and giving me all those delicious feelings. I had one of those thoughts flash by. It gave me permission to experience this kind of intimacy with Dan. It came and went but I didn't dispute it because I wanted it now. I love my husband and enjoy our passion but fueled by this mysterious desire, I suppose I wanted some adventure too, to feed that animal lust. It felt good knowing I had the power to attract another male, even one who had a beautiful wife. Pirate Days While 'I don't know' was a nice segue into some marital bliss, I really wanted to know the answer to my question. I did some searching online. What I found was quite revealing. I read, "When a man's seminal vessels (that is where the semen and sperm are stored after being manufactured) gets full, a signal is sent to the brain saying that it is time to empty. Since young men produce more semen than older men, they get the signal more often, every couple days, thus their greater desire for sex. The fuller the seminal vessels get, the more urgent the signal and men are compelled to think of sex. It is not a deliberate or rational choice, but a biological function. Most men do not even realize what is happening, so being rational simply means, 'where is my woman.' 'Wet dreams' is one way the male expels the built up semen. Masturbation is another popular method. For married men, sexual intercourse is the desired way, because it relieves the sexual tension and provides a powerful emotional bonding between the husband and wife. Furthermore, sexual intercourse is of itself addicting, because of it desirable physical and mental properties, so sexual intercourse is sought after on a regular basis, which sets humans apart from other mammals." I had always accepted that men also gain a sense of power because of the woman's submissiveness. What I read next put into words what I felt but couldn't articulate. "Women also greatly desire sex because of its powerful physical and emotional effects. Power is part of that emotional mix. The submissive behavior of a woman is actually her exercising power over her male partner. Few males can resist the lure of a sexually willing female. Some researchers believe that a married woman, who seeks to attract the attention of a male other than her husband, is her way of reassuring herself that she is still posses her womanly power and desirability." The next time Randi brought her kids over to play, I read my findings to her. "So you think," Randi said, "Susan isn't keeping Dan emptied out, thus he is driven by biological and emotional forces and he has pick sweet little you as his JJ partner; or is it, sweet little Dawna has put a spell on poor Dan and he is helpless to get away." I let silence be my answer. "Perhaps we should talk with Susan and let her know she is not just punishing her husband but pushing him into the hands of a seducer. Do you think she would listen?" Randi asked. When I responded, I ignored the seducer comment. "I don't know, she is a hard read," I said. "I suppose someone should tell her. I am sure she will get mad as hell at whoever delivers the news. 'Hey Susan, you know that little spat you had, well it is time to forgive and forget. That little hole between your legs is getting pretty dry and it is time to open up and let your man fill you up again. Oh, and one other thing, stop being such a bitch!'" Randi shook her head in mock agreement. "It sounds like you have just the right amount of love and compassion to be the messenger." "I'm sorry," I said. "I do think of her as a friend. Dan and Ken get along well and we play cards together some. She hates to lose and is one of those 'always right' kinds of people. For that reason, Dan and I will pair up, against Susan and Ken, because they both like to win. It works out nice, since Dan never gets on my case about making bonehead moves, which I seemed to do too often. We would always lose until we found a way to cheat. We would slip off our shoes and tap each other under the table, trying to signal our intentions. I suppose we got a bit flirty at times. He would run his toes up and down my leg, and I would be looking at him, trying to figure out what code he was trying to signal. But there was no code; he was just having a good time while playing a stupid card game." "Really," Randi said. "You two played 'footies' together so now in his hour of need he picks you as the one to play 'Jack and Jill' with. Things are starting to make sense." I wore my more modest swimsuit on our next night out at the pool. Randi was in a reflective mood again so we floated off to the deep end of the outside pool where few had come yet. "It is good to relax in the water after such a hot day," I said as we floated on our backs looking up at the stars. "This reminds me of the time when I first saw the Southern Cross. It was a moonless night; the sea was as smooth as a lake. We were sitting on the deck, listening to the silence and beholding the magnificent heavens. I was leaning against Pierre's back, looking north when Pierre broke the silence. Speaking in French, which they usually did, Marcos and Pierre were sounding like little children. I got up to see what they were so excited about. Marcos pointed to a small but beautiful constellation sitting low in the sky. 'The Crux,' he said smiling. Silence follow. "Thank you for sharing that we me," I said, "that was beautiful." After a few more moments of silence, I asked, "So you know some French. Say something in French for me." . Randi let a few phrased roll off her lips, changing the tone of her voice as the long ago conversation went back and forth. "That sounds so romantic," I said. "What does it mean?" "I'd be reading a book and Marcos would be fishing. When he caught a fish, he would yell out to me, 'Get your fucking ass over here and hand me the net.'" "So, I would jump up, run my naked body over where he was and get the net. After we brought the fish in, I'd say, 'I hope you don't mind that I brought the rest of my body with me. My ass doesn't have any hands, only two holes, one of which you are intimately familiar with.' He would give me a little swat on the butt, tell me my French had greatly improved and we'd both laugh as I returned to my reading." "Oh my!" We both turned to see who had said that. It was our friend Ann, who had floated out to see us. She was a few years younger than us; someone we had met at a church concert. She was a small town girl, now a pastor's wife, with a heart to please and a sensitive spirit. "Excuse my French," Randi laughed as we pulled ourselves out of the water to sit on the pool edge. "Dawna wanted to hear some sailor talk." I wanted to protest that comment but thought better of it. Randi was a good person but did not mind the bad girl image. "Traveling like that must have been exciting," Ann said as she tried to undo her 'oh my' comment. "It was an adventure but more than that, it was healing. For the first time in my life, I took time to read, think and reflect. It was out there in the middle of the ocean that I realized that I wasn't stupid and had value as a person. Before we left, Marcos went with me, and a bunch of my friends, to the county library. I wanted to check out some novels but he said they already had enough of those. Instead, we got books on classical philosophy, history books, biology, psychology, art, even medical books covering first aid and tropical illness. The only 'story books' he let me get were about explorers like, Marco Polo, Magellan, David Livingston, those who climbed Mount Everest or traveled to the South Pole. Of course, there were books on sailing. I had quite a library and read every one of them at least once. And I'll have you know, later when I had a job and was making good money, I boxed those books up and sent them back along with a check for $500, so don't think too ill of me for taking them without permission." Randi went on to talk about her dysfunctional upbringing, the drinking, the drugs, the broken home. After her parents' divorce, there were her mother's abusive boyfriends. Then came the homeless months until she was befriended and moved to San Diego. It was the first time in years that she had a sense of family again, with unconditional love, regular meals, a comfortable bed. Her new friends had found a niche market in the porn industry, making custom movies for rich clients. The client would cast themselves, their wife and friends as the 'stars' in the movie. Even though she wasn't the prettiest girl there, she was often given a role to play. From there it was on to the high seas and seeing the Southern Cross. It was obvious by the pained look on Ann's face that she was disturbed by what she was hearing. "Sex without love seems so wrong. How could you put up with it?" "It wasn't until I met Pierre that I experienced a deeper kind of love but you take what you can get and at that time it was my version of love and acceptance and how I could feel good about myself. Plus I was good at it; it paid my bills and gave me friends." "After a movie was produced, we'd all get together to watch it. In my scenes, and I've always been blessed like this, as soon as the head of the penis touches me, my vagina sends out a wet welcome. You would see a dry penis sink into me, but when it came out, it glistened. I'd hear approving kudos coming from my coworkers. They knew he was getting some serious sensuous satisfaction from that fuck." "Why do you suppose that is," I asked, "you know the wetness, because I get wet pretty fast too?" "Probably because we drink a lot of water, plus I love the thought of having a long, hard, velvety smooth cock in me, I'm sure you are that way too," Randi said as she looked at Ann and me. "Betty, our director was a middle age woman who was a perfectionist. She wanted quality and pushed us to deliver the real article not some fake stuff. She wanted us to have real orgasms with real moans and real perspiration and stressed having those was under our control. 'It is how you think,' she would tell us, plus 'practice, practice, practice.' She would test us, pushing two fingers into our cunts and having us squeeze as she massaged our g-spot. We would practice on ourselves and with those in our acting company. My PC muscles got so strong I could squeeze a cock so hard it could not move, which by the way is a great way to hold a man's erection after he has ejaculated. She called it 'milking' as we varied the pressure of the embrace our cunts put on the cock. Our clients loved it." "I can see how a strong vaginal grip would feel good to a man but how does it help with your orgasm," I questioned. "Clasping the penis causes the woman's genitals, surface and deep, to move with the penis, stimulating the clitoris in particular. So, along with the wonderful feeling of having a penis fill our vagina, we are applying direct pressure on our g-spot and indirectly stimulating our clit at the same time. Nothing could be finer," Randi concluded, giving a little wink toward Ann. "I'll start having my PCs do sit-ups," Ann said, acknowledging Randi may be on to something. "But I still don't know why porn is so popular." "That easy," Randi replied. "There are boys coming of age every day and are suddenly intrigued by the female form. But beyond that, men love to see a naked woman and wives don't show off their bodies often enough. I know to a woman's thinking, that seems shallow, but it is the way men are programmed and they really can't help it, which when you think about it is to our advantage. As a woman, we think our pussies are ugly but a man thinks they are desirable and beautiful. Betty called us 'eye candy' then demonstrated the poses she wanted us to do in our movies, casual, unassuming, yet bold. The key to 'Wilf' she told us is the 'L.' 'Your husband can LIKE to fuck you all day long but can only 'F' you for a very short time. Letting him see you is a big 'L' and something he'll like to see often. It visually stores nicely in his brain, available for recall at any time. Wives need to imprint their naked image on their husbands mind frequently, which is the main ingredient in porn." "Ann, save you modesty for church but at home give your man plenty of 'eye candy' and he'll be thinking he has the most beautiful wife a man can have." "Ok,' Ann said. "I'll take your advice even though I don't like the way you learned it." Then shifting the conversation, Ann asked, "And how did you meet your husband?" It was one of those questions that women love to talk about. "We had island hopped all over the South Pacific and had come back north to Hawaii. Pierre had gotten a nasty infection that bothered his lungs so we were in ER. Casey had just started his medical internship at that hospital and we just happened to meet. My French companions decided to call it quits. Pierre flew back to France to have his condition treated. Marcos stayed long enough to sell the boat then left too. I needed a place to stay; Casey needed a girlfriend so I moved in with him. His work took all his time so I finished my GED then took a two-year RN course. Casey is the one who insisted I do that. He said we should be able to talk the same language. I worked two years as an ER nurse then I had my first baby. "It must have been hard to leave Pierre," I said. Randi eyes misted. "It was, he was the love of my life. I thought we would be together forever. When he left, we continued to live on the boat, awaiting his return. It was but a few weeks, when Marcos told me that he had passed away. I cried for three days." There was a long silence broken only by Randi's deep breaths as she attempted to regain her composure. "I'm ok, she said, after splashing some water on her face to wash away the tears. "So why did you leave Hawaii," Ann asked, trying again to move the thoughts away from a heartbreaking past. "It was a combination of things," Randi said as she continued to recount her past with brutally frankness and shameless honest. I loved the water and found people I could go sailing with. Casey hated the water and the little island was making him feel claustrophobic. He grew up in South Dakota, so loves the smell of sagebrush, the wide-open country and hunting, so he wanted to come back to this part of the world. We had been living together for five years yet he would not marry me, even though I proposed many times." Randi gave a little cynical laugh at the thought. "Anyway, he had some women on the side, which he said was not infidelity because we were not married. Casey worked all the time, just sleep and work it seemed. I worked three twelve hour shifts thus had lots of days off, so I'd go sailing with my friends. I'm not certain exactly which sailing trip we were on or who the father is but when I got pregnant I made sure I had plenty of sex with Casey so he wouldn't know I had been screwing around and he'd accept being the father. The pregnancy was enough to convince him we should marry, but I had to agree to move here. Two years after our first, I got pregnant again, so we have two children now. They are the light of my life. And you know what else is cool, Dawna's husband comes out to the pool with us and baby sits all our kids while we just goof off. How awesome a husband is that! Once again, Randi had pulled us into her story. "You don't know who the father is," Ann said, trying to muffle her shock. "Well I have my suspicions," Randi said. Amber's husband, Mike, is who I'm thinking now. My little guy has a lot of his facial features." It was my turn to register my surprise. "You are out cruising on the ocean and steal another woman's husband; you're more of a pirate than I ever imagined." "I did not steal," Randi retorted. "Amber was right there watching. She shared her husband, they all did. Little orgies like this were my way of getting some revenge in my mind against Casey. It could have been someone else, they all did me, but even though Mike would fuck the other girls, he waited until he got to me to ejaculate. I admit it was kind of a crazy time." Ann, still grappling to understand said, "Amber was OK with that." "Of course," Randi replied. "It is not like she wasn't getting her hole plugged. I took her husband's sperm; she took someone else's. It wasn't like there was a shortage of semen or anything, indeed, the cum flowed rather freely, as there were always more guys then girls." Ann's husband came splashing across the pool toward us. It was hard to tell if he was just a bad swimmer or fighting to keep from drowning. I think it was both. He was breathing hard and choking as he pulled himself out of the water to join us. "I don't want you to misunderstand," Randi hastened to interject, that was then, this is now. I'm not like that any more. I've changed; having children did that for me." Then smiling sweetly she finished by saying, "Your husbands are safe around me. Even if you begged me and gave me ten thousand dollars I wouldn't do 'it'." "Ten thousand dollars," the pastor repeated, butting into our conversation, "I could use that." "Forget the ten thousand, you could use some swimming lessons," Randi's sarcasm was scarcely concealed. Ann quickly inserted herself into the conversation, telling her husband how Randi had travel to faraway places on a sailboat. Looking at Randi and desperately wanting to change the direction of the conversation once again, Ann said, "You must be a good swimmer." I thought, both their comment must have seemed cruel to the hard breathing pastor, but he didn't seem to mind. Nor did he wait for Randi's response. "Did you meet any missionaries on your travels?" he asked. "As a matter of fact I did, and very nice people too. We had been swimming, looking at the coral, when a wave slammed me against it, giving me a nasty jagged cut that bled profusely. On the island there was a medical clinic run by some Christians. The doctor graciously sewed me up and didn't charge me a thing, which was good because I didn't have much more than the cloths on my back and that was only the string on my bikini. Can you imagine if he had taken that!" Certain things can set Randi off, and an egotistical male was doing it now. I don't think he meant any harm but as a pastor, it was ingrained in him to find a way to witness for his faith. "All in all," Randi continued, "I think he did a really nice job. Do you want to see it?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled up her bikini top, both breast bounced as they fell out. Then pointing to a three-inch scar on the side of her right breast, she twisted around so we could all see it. "Go ahead and touch it," she said while looking at the pastor, "it feels pretty smooth all considering how horrible a cut it was." I do believe he started to reach out, saying, "very nice," leaving himself open for a sharp elbow to his side, as his wife glared at him. "He had the skill of a seamstress," I said as I motioned for her to put her top back on before the lifeguard saw us. Randi was smiling her mischievous smile as she pulled that small piece of cloth back down over her breast. The funny thing was, it did not even cover the scar. "Ten thousand dollars," I quipped. "No, make that one hundred thousand dollars," Randi shot back. Clueless and undeterred about what we meant, the pastor pressed on, "Have either of you ever read the Bible?" "I have," Randi shouted, as she raised her hand and wiggled her body like a little school girl who got the answer first. "It was in French. Pierre said only a fool would go to sea without a Bible. At sunrises we would go on deck and he'd read from it, mostly from the Psalms and Proverbs. Anyway, he taught me to read from it. I wasn't real good at reading but I could make out the story." Pirate Days The pastor was becoming animated as he said, "So you know Jesus?" "Oh yes," Randi exclaimed, "and I really came to like him. A carpenter, a shipbuilder I'm sure 'cause he loved to hang out with the fishermen and go boating. I can see him, muscles rippling under his bronze skin, sweat rolling down his body as he worked in the sun. He was a real friend to women you know and the bullies feared him. He wasn't judgmental and the children loved him. Too bad what happened to him. He would have been an ideal husband and a perfect father." Fully engaged now, the pastor next asked, "Did you read it again at sunset too?" "No," Randi said, "but we had other French books Pierre and I would read together in the evening. They were pretty interesting too." "NO Randi," I shouted, "NO, NO, NO, DON"T GO THERE." "OK," she said without looking at me, "but we like them." "I sure would like to see your smiling faces in church; we have some real fine discussions," the pastor said. I was going to thank him but Randi beat me to it again, not yet finished with her funky mood. "Thank you but I don't know. They always have those discussions about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin and they never get to the part I'm interested in; 'What kind of dance are they dancing.' I mean, is it the 'twist and shout' or is it the more sultry erotic moves lovers make as they swim in the exquisite sea of ecstasy." With that, I pushed Randi into the water. "We have to go check on the kids," I said as I jumped in after her. Randi rolled onto her back and waved good-bye. "Keep those mission offerings coming; you never know what poor girl is going to need some help." I scolded Randi for her behavior but she only smiled. "We gave them some memories they will never forget." I can still hear her chuckle as she said that. "Besides if you don't want to know my truth, don't ask." I sat next to Ken, watching the kids. That didn't stop Dan from coming to join us. When our youngest wandered out to be with some of the bigger children, Ken left, sitting out in the middle of the pool, so he could be close to the little guy. "No bikini this week," Dan remarked, as he looked me over. "No," I said, "I didn't have time to shave." No sooner had the words left my mouth then I realized I had taken things in the wrong direction; then again, maybe that is where I wanted things to go. Self-deception is so hard to figure out! "I know what you mean," Dan replied, as he rubber the stubble on his chin. "Still, I like that color of brown on you. The way it shows off your breast is quite sexy." Somewhat embarrassed, I thanked him for the complement then said, "I can't compete with Susan when it comes to voluminous breast and she looks stunning in her yellow bikini doesn't she." Dan looked over to where his wife was gabbing away with her friends. She had long beautiful hair that framed a pretty face and overflowing breast. "She does," Dan agreed. "She has yellow pajamas too that she likes so much that I have to beg her not to wear them to bed." I was a bit at a loss as to what was the right thing to say, so I just started saying whatever came to me. "Relationships can have their bumpy spots. I am sure yours will get better soon." Dan didn't reply so I continued, filling the silence. "My friend Randi has hit a rough spot in her marriage too." Dan nodded, "I've heard," he said. "Susan has developed a close relationship with Dr. Morgan, so she tells me things." Dan worked in the physical therapy department at hospital and Susan was a nurse, so both knew Randi's husband. Suddenly curious about what Dan meant, I asked him straight out what he knew. Ken showed up just then, said he had to go inside for a bit, so I waded out to take his place with the kids. When Ken got back, he sat down next to Dan and they talked for a while. I was dying to get back to my conversation with Dan so I fabricated a need to use the restroom, forcing Ken back out into the pool. When I got back, I sat next to Dan again and worked the talk back to where we had been interrupted. I could tell Dan had mixed emotions, not wanting to say too much but at the same time wanting to talk. It was hard to hear as the pool arena echoed with the sounds of yelling kids and splashing water. Without really thinking, I pressed myself against Dan so I could hear what he was saying. "I guess the short most polite version is, Dr. Morgan is a ladies' man," Dan said. "I don't understand it, but women are attracted to him and he takes advantage of it." "Takes advantage," I repeated, "Do you mean flirting or what?" "Let's just say, the Motel over on Alder Street has seen a good share of women go spend a night there with him." "No," I gasp. My heart was already aching for my friend Randi. They may have left Hawaii but Casey's addiction for women, apparently came with him. Dan took several deep breaths before speaking again. Quite a while ago Susan got called in at night to cover for a sick co-worker. A few days later, I saw that coworker and asked how she was feeling. It was then that I learned that she hadn't been sick at all. I checked the work schedule and it confirmed that Susan did not work that night. When I asked her about it, she got really mad and out came the yellow pajamas." "What did you do," I half whispered, half chocked. "They are not trying to hide the affair," Dan said. I went over to the motel early one morning and saw Dr. Morgan leave a room then a while later Susan came out. I followed her to work and confronted her. She was unapologetic. Said in college she had many sleep over boyfriends and was missing it." "I just want to know what the rules are so I can play too, if this is how it is going to be. If it is going to be musical beds, then I want you in mine!" "Oh Dan, I'm a married woman, you know we can't do that." "Susan is married, but that hasn't stopped her. I'm not saying you leave Ken, but let's just have some fun on the side. We can be more discrete that Susan and Casey, we can be more like Randi and Ken." Dan motioned out to where Ken was. Even in her bright orange bikini, I hadn't noticed that Randi had joined him, playing with the children. "People have noticed how much she hangs around your house. She has been known to hire a baby sitter for several days and be gone, it just so happens, when your husband is working out of town on one of those jobs up north. I don't know it for a fact, but it appears to me, that you and I are the odd couple out. I didn't make up this game and I'm not here to throw stones, but if that is what is going on then there is no one I'd rather play it with than you. You have enamored me for a long time and I know how you look at me. I'd like nothing better than to consummate this love." "Jack and Jill," I said. "What." "Jack and Jill, Randi said you wanted to play JJ with me. Now you tell me she has been playing it with my husband. I can't believe that's true." The thought initially shocked me but if Ken was doing it, then why shouldn't I. I couldn't tell it had hurt our marriage at all. "How long do you think they have been doing it," I questioned Dan? "Susan thinks it started sometime very early in Randi's last pregnancy. That's a worry free time to have some fun, you know." "I don't know what to think. It was just before Randi's little girl was born that Ken did have a vasectomy, but it was I who suggested it. Other than that, there has been nothing obvious, at least to me. Besides Randi swears she would never do that." "Deny, deny, deny, that the cheaters motto," Dan said. "It is to be expected." Dan pulled me tight against himself. "It will be fun and you don't have to worry about getting pregnant because I've been 'fixed' too. I want you in the worse way and I know you want me too." "You'd better stop," I said, you're causing me to soak my pants. I hope you like a real wet pussy." I don't know why I said that but then again maybe I did. It seemed so forward, so unlike me. Something told me to examine my thoughts but I didn't want to, so I didn't. Instead, I enjoyed the tingling thrill that washed over me. Dan left when Randi came over to see what was going on. "What up? Randi asked. "Dan told me some things that I can't believe are true. How can I make sense of this tangled web, who can I trust?" I was shaking as I said these words, mostly because I didn't want my thinking exposed. Randi gave me a long hug; trying to reassure me things would be ok. Jumbled thoughts raced through my head. "You keep on trusting those who you have found trustworthy before," Randi counseled. "Truth has a way of revealing the hidden. And though life is not fair, there is enough good out there that we can find it and be happy." Months later reflecting on what Randi said, I had the strong impression that she needed that human touch and to hear those words, more than I did. First things first; I realized that I really did not know if any of this was true, though I was pretty sure Randi wasn't trying stealing my husband from me, even if she did steal some treats once in a while. I was strangely calm about the situation. I loved Ken, I loved Randi, I was infatuated with Dan, so I could understand how these things could happen. I reasoned, I could assume the best, nothing was going on between Randi and Ken, but was that really the best, for I felt I needed an excuse to get with Dan. I could assume the worse, that would give me the go ahead, but it seemed ironic that I was cheering for the worst. Alarms were going off in my head but I pushed the silence button. Saturday afternoon Ken liked to watch sports and Randi and I liked to go shopping, leaving the children with him. We had done it often enough that Ken had a system down to where he didn't mind too much. When I got into Randi's car, she announced that instead of our usual shopping she had arranged for us to go meet some friends at our favorite café. There was one booth in the back of the café that was private, apart from the rest. Business deals got made there. Relationships started and ended there. Whenever I went to that café, I'd go out of my way to see who was back there just for that reason. Today Randi had called ahead and reserved it for us. We are going to do an intervention, Randi told me. I did not like the idea but had little time to protest because she did not tell me until we were headed back to the booth. Susan was already there and so was Ann. We were still looking over the menu when Ann jumped up upon seeing her new friend Mandisa. "We are over here," she said as she waved. Ann grabbed a near by chair and put it at the end of our booth so Mandisa could join us "Do any of you know Mandisa," Ann asked. Ann had met her at church, Susan knew her from work, Randi hinted she knew about her but she was new to me. "She is a housekeeper at the hospital," Ann continued with the introductions. "She comes from South Africa and is here to take nursing at our Community College." We placed our orders; I shared a burger with Randi, as I had lost my appetite over the thought of confrontation. Poor Ann thought this was just a fun time out with the girls so was in a chipper mood, apparently not knowing about the significance of 'the booth.' Randi ordered a mug of beer for each of us, which I thought unusual because she normally didn't drink. When I asked her about that, she recounted how in the past, one beer would put her in a 'happy place,' and two would shred her inhibitions, making her an easy prey. She started to say more but stopped abruptly. Toward the end of the meal, with both Susan and Randi being nurses, Randi had managed to work the conversation from food to fat, diseases to the prostrate, seminal vessels to sex. Ann seemed particularly interested as she began to understand the biological forces that drive a man's sexual appetite. "Intercourse is brain control," Ann mused, her eyes darting back and forth while exploring these new thoughts. "By collecting his semen, I'm cutting off those demanding sexual thoughts that would cause him to look at another woman and instead focus his thought on me. Frequent and passionate ...." Glancing around, Ann stopped suddenly, blushing at the boldness of her own talk. "Love is sexually transmitted," Randi said, picking up where Ann stopped. When there is no love, sex will transmit lust, or anger or control or infatuation, or whatever. For you and your husband love is the driving force and that makes sex very special. Just add some 'eye candy' to your love, and you have a rare and beautiful marriage." From there the conversation turned to Mandisa as she told a little about herself. Mandisa seemed as sweet as her name implied. She spoke with confidence, her voice somewhat loud; her accent was thick but charming, though a bit difficult to understand at times. Slender and at least 5'10', her black skin radiated beauty. How she came to be here was a story in itself but the part that caught my attention, and I'm sure Randi's, was her relationship with the good Dr. Morgan. She had not been here too long when she got appendicitis. Luckily, her insurance covered 85% of the bill; however, 15% was still a lot to come up with for a student working part time. The good Dr. Morgan forgave what she owed him for doing the surgery and even gave her a thousand dollars to help cover the rest of her medical bills. She was, and for good reason, a fan of Dr. Morgan. Looking at the expressions on everyone's faces, I could tell that Susan knew the story, Ann looked intrigued, and Randi looked stoic. "That was so generous of Dr. Morgan," Ann bubbled, her eyes darting back and forth between Randi and Mandisa. His wife is so lucky to have a husband like that," Ann said, smiling at Randi. "Oh yes," Mandisa agreed, not knowing who Randi was, "and quite cocksman too." "Cocksman," Ann said, "I'm not familiar with that word." "You know, a seducer. In my country too, such a man will have many girlfriends." "Are you one of Dr. Morgan's girlfriends," Randi coolly probed. "How can a woman say 'no' to such a powerful man? My door is always open. When he comes, it is like a feast. Men are always hungry and women know how to cook so he is always welcome at my house." "You feed him African food," Ann asked with a confused tone in her voice. "The very best," she laughed as she slapped her hip. "You can't expect a man to have the same meal over and over again; it's not in their nature. My friend Susan, she feeds him creamy vanilla, I feed him dark chocolate. We are his dessert, a place to rest from his important work." Ann's face had turned ashen. Her focus on Mandisa was so intense; it was like the rest of us were not there. "That is bad, it's not right, you are hurting his wife and family. You are putting his marriage in jeopardy. She'll be devastated when she finds out about you," she paused, looked at Susan and finished with, "you two." "It is like a game where everyone pretends not to know but really, everyone does know. It is a big open secret," Susan said. "We attract men because they instinctively know we are ten times better than what they can get at home." "It is not about being good or bad," Mandisa added. "I am a female living in harmony with the nature of man. Besides, Susan says his wife has a boyfriend too, so I am sure she is well fed." Glancing around the table, Susan said, "I don't know why all the talk about keeping your man 'emptied out' because we all do a good job of that, not only with our husbands but with each other's husbands too!" "You see Ann, the big open secret is that, yes Mandisa and I have sex with Randi's husband while Randi is fucking Dawna's husband and Dawna is screwing my husband." "That's not true," I protested as my fist pounded the table. "Oh give it up Dawna," Susan said. "Dan likes to brag about what a good fuck you are; a real screamer in bed. Dam how he likes your pussy, can't get enough of it, all soft and wet, the prettiest cunt he has even seen. You know when he like to tell me this stuff; when we are fucking, that when. Don't give that monogamous bullshit. It is Dawna this and Dawna than. 'Boy did I have her boobs bouncing; or she had the wettest 'O' I've ever felt.' You make me sick with your fake virtue!" Randi asked Ann if she was going to drink her beer. Ann, wide eyed and shaken, shook her head no. Randi helped herself too it. When I reminded she had a very low threshold for getting drunk, she responded, "I know," then took another big gulp. Susan, continuing her attack said, "As for Randi and Ken, I've run the time line and I am sure Ken fathered Randi's girl and I think you both know it and probably even planned it." Randi stood to leave. "Time to go, the beer is gone and I got to go pee. Mandisa and Susan, I hope you are using condoms, because you are not the only woman my husband is seeing, who are 'ten times' better than me. In fact, with so many willing women around, he hasn't approached me in the past year, so that might make you a fifty times better, or however many times he has fucked you." "Oh, and one more thing, there is no circle. I am not fucking anyone, least of all Ken, who is a good and decent man and married to my best friend! Sexy, you bet. Any man who loves and cares for his family, who works hard, is honest and faithful, that is the kind of man I want. But he can't be had by another woman nor could another woman take him without destroying what makes him the desirable man he is." When I got up, I held up both my hands towards the women. "I'm innocent, believe me I'm innocent. I am part of no circle." I cried when Randi told me her marriage was over and she was going to leave. She had only stayed this long because of our friendship. I asked where she would go. She told me about some far off islands on the equator. During her pirate days, she had met some people there who ran a small hospital and school. She had contacted them and they were looking forward to her coming to help them. Randi looked happier than I had seen her in a long time as she talked about a medical clinic they operated from a boat that traveled from Island to Island. We exchange letters during the holidays. They all look happy, tan and healthy. She is holding her third child, her Aussie husband, a doctor no less, has one arm around Randi and the other hugs the children. I tell her I want to come and visit. "We'd love to see your family," she writes back. "And be sure to bring your bikini and your husband, for the water is wonderful and you'll find the evenings romantic." Since Randi left, I have spent quite a bit of time cleaning up those rooms in my head. One spot keeps reminding me of a big mistake I came so close to making. I shudder each time I think about it. Another room I visit often was once alive and vibrant but now only holds memories of my friend Randi. There I came to realize with tears in my eyes, that as painful as it was for Randi, she had orchestrated that 'intervention' for me, not for them. Oh how my heart aches for her friendship.