SUMMER SWAP // Chapter 37

Nine people, forty minutes past noon, on a yacht on bobbing blue water in the middle of Lake Charlotte. Four married couples, making eight people, plus one man, newly divorced. A total of nine, all sitting on loungers in the sun, nobody saying anything. The sun beat down on them, a perfect dry and scorching hot blue-sky cloudless day. Music they listened to in college played from a speaker inside the yacht’s second floor lounge.

Scarlet side-eyed Cheyenne. Chey had never finished her story. At least not to Scarlet’s satisfaction. Philippe had interrupted them. One thing for sure was that Cheyenne’s story of debauchery had pre-heated Scarlet’s oven. That effect was unexpected. When Sully had delivered the unbelievable findings of his late-night bathroom safari, the first emotions were of course bewilderment, but also hilarity and disbelief. Not that Carla and Cody were swingers, but that they’d roped in her good buddy Cheyenne. Sweet and innocent Cheyenne, roped in by her well-hung, muscular cowboy. But since Chey had divulged some of the more nefarious activities she’d engaged in with Cody, Scarlet’s consideration of Cheyenne’s adventures in swinging aroused something inside her that purred low in her belly, a feline rumble that vibrated in the weirdest way against her intimate spaces. Sully had been off fishing again from the front deck on the third floor. If he hadn’t been, he’d have been dragged into their estate room and she would have shagged him rotten. Instead, she’d been left chatting with Philippe. And Philippe made matters worse. The way he’d studied her made her feel like Chey did when Chey had been out horsing around naked with Cody in the lake. The terrible things her saintly friend had done! Imagine innocent Cheyenne horsing with Cody, putting her hands on him and grabbing a handful of balls—and not letting go.

She twitched and rubbed her nose, feeling that pre-heated oven begin to steam like someone had inched it open to keek what was cooking.

And what the hell was cooking, Scarlet?

Nothing. Nothing at all. Right?

She uncrossed her legs, crossed them the opposite way, flexing her thighs. Now she side-eyed Byron. Byron stared holes out to the horizon—but not taking in the view. It looked like his eyes were unseeing and instead what Byron watched was a movie playing in his mind’s eye. And what was he watching that made his jaw muscles flex like that, made his brow drop down low to a scowl? Was it the things he had done with Carla? Or was it the things he knew Cody had done to his sweet Cheyenne?

* * *

All Byron could think was how Cody had spent one night with his wife and had uncovered things about her sexuality that he himself would maybe never have discovered, even with a map and a GPS and headlamp and a flashlight and half a mile of spelunking ropes. Cody had figured out Cheyenne in an hour, like he was a master locksmith. Or perhaps a cat burglar lusting after a hundred-million-dollar pink diamond. Or more like a heist, really. Cody’s plans were long and involved and the man had lusted after this particular pink diamond—owned by another man—for quite a long time. How much preliminary work had gone into Cody’s master plan? For how long had last night’s actions been in planning? The more Byron thought of it, the less it seemed like it was a spur of the moment transaction. The more he thought of it, the more he considered the entire trip on this yacht was meant for Cody’s Cheyenne satisfaction. And if that were the case, then Cody surely wouldn’t stop pursuing Cheyenne. The trip had only just begun. They weren’t even on their third day. How many more times would Cody fuck Cheyenne on this vacation?

Cody had them arranged together on this yacht for weeks. Alone and secluded. The yacht’s staff nearby on a houseboat. No wait staff, no chefs. Nine people on board. No outsiders. All insiders. No one to watch them. No one to judge them.

Byron side-eyed Carla. Carla was unreadable behind her black sunglasses. But those pouting lips were so succulent and alluring. The point of her chin, the sharp angle of her jaw, and the sly sweep of her sharp intelligent brows—then everything below that lost the hard angles, everything below the neck was pillowy soft and fucking feminine and perfect. The overflowing breasts that the bikini top struggled to contain, the narrow waist swooping to the wide hips. The trade-off for donating his wife to another man’s desires was that he could do anything he wanted to that perfect female creature. And that female creature wasn’t some virginal doe-eyed innocent—oh no sir, that woman was sex personified. In his heart he knew Carla had a million dirty tricks to make him come. She hadn’t even shown him one of them last night. And that was probably Cody’s plan, too.

Don’t give it to him all, Carla. Keep that boy coming to feed from your hand, day after day. Don’t wear him out. Keep him happy, but keep him hungry.

A hungry man is easier to control.

* * *

Who ever would have thought Byron would ever do something as wild as having sex with Carla fucking Weber? Not Sully, that’s for sure. Never in a million years would he have ever suspected something like that could ever happen. How the hell had Scarlet sussed it out? He thought he had a dirty mind. What if his wife had an even dirtier mind? God, the sex they’d had last night just after the revelation of Cheyenne and Byron swinging with Cody and Carla was a dozen times wilder than a normal night for them. Than a good night for them.

Though the prospect was impossible, he still couldn’t shake a distinct jealousy that Byron was the one who got summoned to Carla’s bedroom. That Byron was the one who got to titty-fuck that hot ass woman.

But if Cody ever thought Sully would let him get anywhere near Carla with that big dick, he was crazy. He wouldn’t trade in Scarlet’s virtue for a shag with Carla. The price of admission was too steep for him to afford.

Not that Scarlet was a virgin when he met her. That was not the case at all. Fuck, she’d been dating another guy when he met her. She’d broken up with that guy and since she was keeping it casual with Sully, she’d even dated another guy at the same time. At least in the early weeks, before they committed to each other, before they fell in love. There was a distinct heartache that, as a man, he’d pushed down into his core back then when he’d get this flashing errant thought that this girl he was kind of falling for big-time was out on a date with another guy. Like, what if she slept with that guy tonight, he’d worry. What if they were fucking? What if her phone calls and texts grew farther and farther apart as this other dude started to set his Scarlet’s insides on fire. He’d worried how it would end. Would she just stop responding to his texts? Is that how it would happen? Or would she sit him down, do the honorable thing, tell him that things with—what was that guy’s name? Something Italian, he thought, like maybe Vince—Vince were progressing and she didn’t want to waste Sullivan’s time anymore. The worry was so palpable that even now, years removed and married to Scarlet, his heart tightened in his chest and his throat constricted. He laughed to himself and rapped his fist in light taps over his breastbone. He leaned aside to smile at his wife.

Scarlet wasn’t looking his way. His wife was looking aside. She had her big paperback lying face down on her stomach and she looked to the left. Not out to the view, but over beyond Cheyenne to Philippe. Was Philippe just looking Scarlet’s way?

* * *

What Cheyenne couldn’t escape was the lusty thought of Cody’s mouth on her. Not kissing her—because that didn’t seem right—but the way his lips had grazed on her collar, had plucked at her nipples, had ravaged her pussy and suckled her sweetest flesh. Even sitting in the lounger, mouth shut, hiding behind sunglasses, with her friends but in her own little dirty world, her nipples tightened and bulged out the fabric of her swimsuit. She folded her arms to cover them before anyone noticed.

Carla and Cody were game. Carla and Cody were interested in trying out another night time session. Her heart raced at the thought. Her mind raced at what would transpire between now and nightfall. How the hell was she supposed to get through the day with the night—a night like last night—on her mind?

What, eight more hours? Nine? How was she supposed to pass the time? The worst thing she could do was sit and sun on a lounger like this, because the peace and quiet let her mind obsess over things it shouldn’t.

* * *

Scarlet stood, and Byron watched her, eyes tracking his wife’s best friend as she passed everyone laying on the loungers and put her hands on the railing, looking out at the water. The wind lifted her crimson hair and exposed her long neck. There was something in the way she stood that attracted his attention and he couldn’t quite figure out why. Scarlet was beautiful—but since she was also his wife’s best friend, he never considered her that way. And he still didn’t. What was it?

It hit him.

The way Scarlet tilted her head, the way one hip shot out and lifted one of her butt cheeks, the way she spread her arms wide on the railing, showing off how long-limbed and lean she was—she was trying to appear attractive. Not something he’d ever seen her do before. Why would he? She was married to Sullivan and if she ever got the hots for some other guy, he was pretty sure he wasn’t her type.

Byron looked left then right. Yup. Cody noticed. So did Philippe. And her husband also noticed. Sully’s face turned up to regard the woman he was married to. There was something in his expression that was more than a happy husband regarding his beautiful wife, there was something lurking behind his eyes the way a frightened fish at the aquarium might sequester in some coral structure. What was it? Byron could swear there was a measure of worry there. That’s what it was. The more he thought of it, the more he became convinced that Sully regarded his wife with a green tinge of angst. Poor old Sully. Old Sullivan—he of the quick quip: did you titty fuck her?—had been thinking of what Byron said to him out on the deck today. How Sully had come to him wanting to know the dirty details and then had departed that conversation with a simple statement. He’d said he couldn’t trade a night with Carla Weber for a night for Cody Weber to take a tour around his wife’s body. The guy had probably been thinking about it all morning. Worried about it. Scarlet knew they were swingers now too—had predicted it—and Sully must wonder if his wife wonders what if? . . . It tickled Byron and he couldn’t wait till he had a few beers in his belly and he would launch an afternoon campaign of putting bad thoughts into his friend’s head. He couldn’t wait.

Sullivan’s eyebrows raised and the look of worry intensified.

Byron tracked Sullivan’s gaze to Scarlet, who’d moved away from the railing toward the bottoms of the loungers where everyone could see her.

* * *

With everyone looking up at her, Scarlet’s heart began to race. Everyone with meek expressions of question. What’s Scarlet doing?

She took a steadying breath and smiled.

“It’s an awesome day out there,” she said. “What are we all doing laying around like this—who wants to go swimming?”

Mild interest showed on all their faces. Byron watched her, eyebrows raising above his sunglasses. Chey looked concerned. Carla looked unperturbed. Cody and Philippe showed curiosity. Arlo and Lily looked like they wouldn’t mind taking a dip, showing pleasant expressions. Sully looked frozen. Frozen as if he’d been lurking Medusa’s chamber and come face to face with the gorgon. This is what Sully would look like cast in stone with a look of horrific realization. What was he so worried about?

She finger-plucked away one shoulder strap of her sporty one-piece swimsuit and said, “Anyone who wants to join me is welcome,” and let the strap fall down her arm.

Byron looked to Sully, but Sully had turned to stone, eyes on her, face solemn but eyes wide in anticipation. Chey looked perplexed. Philippe smirked.

She turned away from them all, showed them her backside, shrugged one arm out of her swimsuit, then the other. Then she began to shimmy the stretchy swimsuit down her see-sawing hips.

* * *

Sullivan’s heart galloped in his chest in a way he’d never felt. In the first two years of college he’d played a little ball and right now his heart hammered in his chest like he’d gone four court lengths with no one sinking a basket. His neck swelled with sudden pulse-force. His eyes bulged. He held his breath.

Scarlet—his ever-loving and so damn sensible wife—had turned her back to them and stripped down her sporty swimsuit, showing everyone her naked back side. The suit peeled down as her hips swayed and then, just like that, that wonderful bare and freckled ass of hers appeared. For everyone to see. Cody saw it. Byron saw it. Philippe saw it for sure.

Philippe stood and Sully looked to him. Philippe was one-hundred percent into going swimming with Scarlet. And shit, if Scarlet was going skinny, then Philippe was going skinny, too.

* * *

Byron reeled seeing Scarlet’s bare backside—worse when he caught a brief and dim glimpse of the strawberry twist of her sex flesh between her thighs. This was Scarlet, his wife’s best friend, a person who had dinner at his house a few times a year, a person who he never thought he’d see naked in his lifetime. And he fucking loved it. His heart pounded and he looked to Sully, smiling awkwardly. But Sully wasn’t looking his way, Sully was watching Philippe who stood now, joining in.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Philippe said, untied the waistband string holding his swim trunks up and then shoved them down to his knees and stepped out of them. That enormous hairy penis swung against his thighs as he folded up his trunks and tossed them to the seat where he’d been.

Scarlet smiled, looking at Philippe’s naked ass, then aside to Chey. “You coming?”

* * *

Byron’s stupid eyeballs were going all over Scarlet’s body, and she wanted to jump up and get between them. Byron never once expressed an ounce of interest in Scarlet in his life. The problem was in her own brain. The problem was the complex hydra posed by Carla. If it freaks you out for Byron to be with me, why don’t you try to get Scarlet to sleep with him instead. Scarlet knew what they’d done. Scarlet knew and didn’t hate it. Didn’t hate it at all. And now this. Now Scarlet went naked, standing like wasn’t too big a deal, buck naked in the hot sun a few feet from everyone watching.

Philippe was game, getting up and taking his shorts off. Any chance for him to show off that enormous penis, the guy seemed to take it. She couldn’t blame him—just look at meek Lily. Eyes averted, blushing, so worried Arlo would catch her taking a look. And yet, lily did take a look. As soon as Philippe untied that knot on his waistband, Lily’s eyes moved between his legs, waiting to catch a good look.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Chey said to Scarlet, her eyes going to Byron—who should be ashamed of himself the way he was staring at Scarlet’s pussy. She gritted her teeth and said to her husband, “Hey, over here.” Byron looked, face showing guilt, knowing he’d been busted. “You want to come swimming with me today?” There was a purposeful tone that implied something unsaid: or did you want to stay by yourself and rub lotion on Carla’s naked back, and who knows, maybe she’ll touch your dumb pecker and make you ejaculate again?

But then she smiled, seeing something honest in his eyes. Fear. Things were getting a little too crazy for Byron and he was innocent. Somehow, seeing his big brown eyes on her, registering his compassion and a little bit of a lost puppy dog thing he had going, sharing a wild experience with him didn’t seem so treacherous. Fuck, she’d be crazy not to acknowledge that if anyone should be mad over the other ones lecherous behavior it would have to be him of her. And somehow, thinking that, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea for Byron to be with Scarlet. She trusted them both, and both of them cared about her.

Before Byron could answer, she held out a hand, and wiggled her fingers. “I’m not taking no for an answer, babe. Come on with me, you are going swimming.”

Byron said, “Do I have to take my trunks off?”

She took his hand and got him to stand. “You don’t have to. Everything at your own speed. But we’ll sure have a lot more fun if you’re not wearing a thing.”

* * *

Byron chuckled and rose to face his wife. “We are in this together,” he whispered so only she could hear.

He shoved down his own swim trunks and tossed them on the lounger. Sully was shocked and disgusted, not enjoying getting a look at Byron’s half-hard dick. Sure, Sully had streaked for them all during the Truth or Dare, but they’d been drinking, it was late at night, and he’d been on the lower level, a good distance from them. He said to Sully, “You’re not shy all of a sudden, are you?”

Sully didn’t smile, he wasn’t looking at Byron’s junk at all, he was looking between Byron and Cheyenne, at his wife, who now was talking to Philippe as they headed to the stairs that would take them down to the swim deck. Both of them naked.

“You should come,” he said to Sully, now pale as a ghost. “Bring some beers and a football. What do you say?”

Sully’s eyes tugged away from his wife and a man with a huge cock swinging between his legs and struggled to speak.

Chey disrobed. Right in front of Sully, Cheyenne pulled her top off and undid her bikini bottoms, and got naked. And just like Byron couldn’t pull hs eyes from Scarlet’s couch, her was Sully, eye level with Cheyenne’s close-cropped growler, blinking and for sure getting hard. Chey reached a hand out to Sully, offering the same way she’d encouraged Byron. “Let’s go, Sully,” she said.

Byron turned to Cody and Carla. “What, you two prudes going to stay here and do crosswords?” His cock was growing and he didn’t care. Cody was looking at it. Cody got a good look at what Byron put inside Carla last night and knew now he had nothing to worry about. And also probably knew Byron did have something to worry about. But he wasn’t bothered. In fact, he was thrilled. As scary as this could be, it was also a hell of a lot of fun.

Cody looked at Carla, then back to Byron. “We’ll be down in a bit. “

* * *

Arlo watched the strange look Byron gave Cody.

This wasn’t the first time this trip that Arlo had this weird feeling there were things happening between their friends that were hidden from view. Lily said the same thing. He agreed right away. Both of them before bed last night had tried to surmise what was swimming below the surface but neither came up with a scenario the other would feel safe investing in.

And now this.

He exchanged a look with Lily, and she showed in her keen eyes that she was on the same page as him. There were things happening in front of them but their viewpoint was foggier than the others. The nudity definitely supported his own interior musings on the matter. This was some sort of sexual thing.

The fact he thought it might be a sexual thing was kept from Lily. He’d hate for her to think such a thing would occur to her upright husband. What he feared most was that the same terrible thought had occurred to Lily, just as to him, and it made sense to Lily, as well, to keep such salacious thoughts to oneselves.

As the others departed, all of them naked but for Sully, Arlo leaned forward to look past Lily and say to Carla, “What’s got into them?”

Cody chuckled and lounged in his chair, slimming his eyes as his face turned to the sun. “Somebody slipped some Spanish Fly into the water supply, if you ask me.”

Carla laughed at Cody’s comment then grinned at him. She said to Cody, “That might explain it, babe.” Cody smiled.

Carla looked back to Arlo, then to Lily, then back to Arlo. “So good to see you guys, I mean it. It’s been a horrible year. We really missed you.”

Lily cocked her head with affection, always a big fan of Carla’s charm and confidence. “This last week was so hard. We couldn’t wait for this trip.”

Carla practically purred, her long-lash eyes going to happy lines as she regarded Lily. “I couldn’t wait, either. Two weeks with my Lily.” Carla reached to take Lily’s hand, then leaned closer to kiss the back of it. Lily chuckled. Arlo got a good look at Carla’s pillowy bosom mashing together and struggling against her bikini top.

Cody caught him looking and Arlo felt his cheeks blush. Cody sat up, then scooted to sit at the bottom of the lounger.

Cody said, “What say we leave those high-schoolers to their shenanigans today and the four of us do some adult activities. What do you guys say?” He smiled wide, looking from Arlo to Lily. Lily loved the idea. Lily looked at Arlo and her expression showed joy at the possibility. Arlo nodded, so happy to see that look on his wife’s face.

Lily said, “Maybe we could go out on the jet-skis?”

Cody leaned forward, totally engaged. “You’d like that?”

Carla rolled her eyes. “Now you’ve got him going. Anything to do with going fast on a gas-powered machine and Cody is all in. Lily just said Cody’s magic words.” Carla looked past Lily, who was absolutely beaming, and said to Arlo, “While these two hot-rod around the lake, what do you say you and I cook up some lunch? You’re a chef, Arlo. Maybe you’d be kind enough to teach me a thing or two.” Even though she cocked her head in a compassionate, friendly manner, there was something unnerving in the almost predatory way Carla smiled. “What do you say? We can use the grill out on the deck, get some sun, enjoy the weather. I know my way around a kitchen, as they say, but I’m always open to learn some new tricks.”