SUMMER SWAP // Part 2 // Chapter 3

Philippe mounted the steps ahead of him, beer in one hand, the other holding an apple with a bite out of it. They emerged into the hot and bright, the boat’s rooftop awning retracted to give them all maximum sunlight. Along the curved bank of seating at the rear, Sullivan sat with his wife Scarlet, the two of them close, Scarlet holding a pillow to her stomach and watching the waves while Sullivan flicked through his phone. Cody sat on an upright chair, long blond hair tied up in a man-bun, chatting with Carla who was laying flat on a lounger in a bikini. Her eyes might have been closed. It was hard to tell behind the black sunglasses. He was happy to see Cheyenne stretched out with Carla, paperback folded open in one hand, the two of them side-by-side, his pale wife trying to get some color on her skin while she read the newest bestseller. Both girls were beautiful, but it was interesting to see their two distinctly different bodies compared, practically naked. Carla was all woman; big breasts, generous curves, soft tummy but a narrow waist. And Cheyenne was all lean girl curves, long legs and long arms, pert and perky breasts that sat more upright, even when she lay on her back. If you set a golf ball on Carla’s tum, it would sit steady in the cup of her navel. If you set it in Cheyenne’s, it would roll away and plop to the deck.

Philippe went to sit with Colby, the two of them fist-bumping, then Cody scooting his chair to make space for Philippe to slide one closer. Byron took a spot, sitting on the lounger next to his wife, feet on the deck. Philippe’s eyes roamed the two women, then looked out to the horizon. Cody looked to Philippe, then to Carla, leaned closer and rested a hand on her knee.

Byron asked Cheyenne how she was doing. She moved a finger on the paperback page like she didn’t want to lose the meaning of the sentence while her dumb husband interrupted her. She traced the finger down to the end of the paragraph, then lowered her book. “Peachy, Byron, how’s the day-drinking going?”

“I need a nap already,” he said.

She ran a hand on his knee, said, “Lay back on the lounger, put your feet up.”

“Maybe I will,” he said, set his beer bottle on the table behind the loungers, and pulled off his T-shirt. It wasn’t even lunch time but the sun was hot. It felt incredible on his bare back. “Yeah, this is perfect,” he said.

Cheyenne set her paperback down, sat up. “Let me get some lotion on you.”

“Nah, I got it,” he said, “I’m going to lay on my back first, anyway.”

He lay down, brain feeling beer-heavy, squirted lotion in a palm, then applied it to his chest, stomach, and arms. Cheyenne resumed reading, Carla stayed quiet, Cody and Philippe leaned close together, talking quietly, Cody still with his hand on Carla’s knee, running his thumb on the kneecap.

Carla knee-nudged Cody’s hand. Cody lifted the hand and Carla rolled over to lie belly-down. The act of rolling over involved her getting to her knees and elbows for a moment, putting her sexy bubble-butt up in the air. Cody spanked it and laughed. Carla made an annoyed sound. Her breasts hung forward between her arms. The stretched triangles of the bikini bra could barely contain them, especially when they wanted to hang down.

Carla flattened herself on the lounger, up on elbows for a moment so she could manage her thick head of chestnut hair. Byron watched her feet kick, ankles crossed over—

And then caught Cheyenne side-eyeing him.

Byron gave Cheyenne no expression, and she gave him nothing back either. He couldn’t help feeling caught. But he was just looking that way, and Carla was on the other side of Cheyenne, so technically he was looking at his wife.

He said to Cheyenne, “How’s your book?”

“It’s not too bad actually. I didn’t have high hopes—”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“Everybody says it’s good.”

Playful: “You do everything people say is good?”

Cheyenne ignored his dumb statement—she was mad he looked at Carla’s tits—and continued. “I don’t know, it was just a neat idea about an underwater investigator; she has to solve this mystery of this body she found while she was fishing.”

Cheyenne continued to tell him about her book. Carla lowered until her breasts squashed on the lounger and turned her head away from them. Philippe was telling Cody how to manage some home renovation project he’d embarked upon. Telling Cody how to handle the framing of a new room in Carla and Cody’s basement. Cheyenne resumed reading, and he settled back in his lounger.

Carla raised up on elbows again, said something to Cody. Byron looked up

Cody leaned out of his chair, and untied the back of Carla’s bikini top, and flicked the strings away so his wife could get sun on her back without making lines. When Carla began tugging at her bikini bottoms, Byron checked to make sure Cheyenne wasn’t watching him again.

Carla scooted the bikini bottoms back over her butt, and rolled it rearward to get as much sun as she could on her bottom without removing them. His eyes lingered a moment, but then looked away before Cheyenne caught him.

Carla got up on her elbows again, and he shifted his eyes to get a glimpse of her chest. Her breasts were squashed between her arms. Bare. There was something more exciting about not quite being able to see them. The girl had flashed them to him last night, bounced them around while he’d tried to get himself hard, but for some reason catching this forbidden glance was more exciting than that. Carla was looking his way, and he moved his eyes from her breasts.

But Carla was looking at Cheyenne. “Hey, Cheyenne?”

Cheyenne held a finger in place were she was reading. “Yeah?”

“I want to get some sun on my butt. You think it’s okay if I strip down?”

Philippe overheard, raised his eyebrows, smirked, and sat back in his chair. Cody followed him, leaning closer and continuing about his carpentry project.

Cheyenne said, “Go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Cheyenne closed her book with a finger stuck to hold her place. She said, “Go ahead. I mean it. We all got a good look last night,” nodded her chin to the other side of the deck. “And not just at you.”

Carla looked down her body to where Scarlett and Sullivan still sat far removed from them at the back of the boat, in the curved bench seat. She said, “We got a real good look at Sullivan.”

“We sure did,” Cheyenne agreed with a light chuckle.

Carla checked again. “You sure?”

Cheyenne said, “I’m totally fine with it. If there weren’t all these guys around I might join you.”

Philippe said, “I’m totally fine with that too.”

Cody laughed. “Me too.”

“Oh goody,” Cheyenne said sarcastically. “Let me just strip down then.”

Carla stood topless, adjusting her bikini bottoms, pulling them out of her butt crack. Her long, brown hair hung nipple height over her shoulders. Byron could still see her bare breasts. He looked, then looked away. Looked again—wary of getting caught.

Carla said, “I don’t see what the big deal is. Just join me. We’re the only ones out here.” She scanned the horizon on all sides. “We’re the only ones on the lake.”

“Enjoy yourself,” Cheyenne said, returning to her book.

Carla thumbed down her bikini bottoms, and pulled her legs out of them, her husband, Cody, sitting right behind her looking at her bare ass. Byron stole another quick glance, getting a look at the dimpled cleft between her thighs before she got face down on the lounger again. But now he saw those big breasts dangling free between her arms, saw the nipples briefly before she lay down. He looked away quickly, getting away with it.

“I’m going to join her,” Cody said. “Anybody peeved if I strip down?”

Now Byron itched with bother. Could sympathize with Cheyenne getting jealous when he was looking at Carla. Cody was a good-looking guy, with a head of cool hair and everything. And while he wasn’t some big musclebound dude, Cody was definitely fit. He definitely had a good body. He’d done two tours in Afghanistan as a Marine, then two years as a police officer. Now he worked investigations for the same insurance company were Byron worked. And the guy stayed in shape. They’d seen him all day yesterday with his shirt off. He was lean and tanned, sported abs. Cheyenne had peaked at Cody a few times, and it had bugged him.

With the shirt off, Cody got out of his chair, unbuttoning his shorts, but thankfully leaving the vicinity, walking across to the other side just past Byron’s feet then looking down the side of the boat to the water far below. He said, “I’m going to do it today.”

Carla looked over her shoulder to see what Cody meant. “Go ahead.”

“You’re not gonna stop me today?”

“It’s early in the morning and you haven’t been drinking. Jump away.”

The yacht was four stories tall. A forty-foot drop if you were to jump off from this height of the deck. The water was clear, the day was bright, there was no danger.

Cody said, “Hey, who’s coming with me?”

“I’ll go,” Philippe said, then looking his way: “Byron, you want to jump?”

Byron said, “Carla won’t let me because I’ve been drinking.”

Carla said, “I don’t care if you jump when you’re drunk. I need Cody’s income.”

Cheyenne laughed, reading her book. But now he was watching his wife’s profile. She was still facing the book she held open between her knees, but her eyes were raised above the paperback. And now she leaned aside, grabbed her sunglasses off the table and put them on. Now Byron couldn’t tell where his wife was looking.

Philippe shrugged off his shirt. He wasn’t as lean as Cody, but was bulkier. They were both the same height, an inch or two above six feet. They stood side-by-side, looking over the railing, both of them shirtless, Cody with his shorts unbuttoned.

Cody and Philippe talked, pumping each other up, and made the decision they would do it. They were going to climb over the railing and jump from the outside of the yacht, forty feet to the water below.

Cheyenne said to Carla, “They’re crazy.”

Byron agreed: “You wouldn’t catch me doing it.”

Cheyenne laughed and looked his way, but he couldn’t read her eyes from behind the sunglasses. She said, “Ever the actuary.”

“You might want to tell Carla I would flag her claim if I knew her husband was jumping off of boats like this.”

“They already know Cody’s a wild man,” Carla said. “We pay the wild man premium.”

“Shit,” he said, “you got me there.”

Cheyenne had turned to face the guys, and Byron followed her gaze. They were dropping their shorts. Two good-looking guys with good bodies standing naked now, stepping out of their shorts.

Carla wolf-whistled. Cody spanked his own ass for her.

There was one thing on Byron’s mind: wanting to see what was his wife had held a toilet paper tube up to. The thing that hung between Philippe’s legs. They still looked out over the water, taking their time like they were building up the nerve, shifting their hips, both of them with good asses he was sure Cheyenne appreciated.

Cody said, “It’s just the two of us?” looking back to Byron. “You’ll do it later?”

“I’m a numbers guy, Cody,” he said. “I’m not jumping from the side of the yacht.”

Cody shouted to the right, “You want to jump, Sully?”

Sullivan was flicking through his phone, looked up, registered that they were naked, made a weird face, and said, “Have fun, guys.”

Cheyenne said, “Looks like it’s just you two lunatics.”

And now Philippe turned around and Byron got his look.

Philippe’s build wasn’t chiseled like Cody, but he lifted weights. He was muscular, with a hairy chest, and a smooth but slim midsection. Between his powerful thighs, a wild tangle of thick pubic hair grew above a huge and gnarly penis. Much bigger than a toilet roll. Much, much bigger.

Byron looked up to Philippe’s eyes, then back down again, feeling his skin crawl and his scalp tighten. His heart raced thinking of Cheyenne trapped in the small space of that bathroom last night, and Philippe pulls his shorts down and shows her that monster. It was uncircumcised, a darkish red brown color, completely flaccid but yet somehow threatening. It was the girth. It looked huge between his hairy legs. Philippe was saying, “Any girl takers? Cheyenne, how about you? You want to jump with us?”

Cheyenne was looking right at Philippe. She wore her sunglasses and Byron couldn’t tell for sure where her eyes aimed. But he didn’t need to verify. Cheyenne got a good look at it in the bathroom last night; he could imagine his wife was looking right at Philippe’s enormous penis again.

“All right,” Philippe said, “suit yourself,” turning around, penis swinging, showing them his bare butt again.

Something caught Byron’s attention across the way. It was Scarlet, whose eyebrows had raised high into her hairline. She’d just seen Philippe’s penis and was mouthing to Cheyenne, Ooh–myyy-gaawwd!, with her hands to her cheeks, mouth open in a shocked O shape—then she broke up laughing silently. Sullivan still flicked through his phone beside her, oblivious to how his wife was reacting.

“You ready?” both guys said, looking at each other, then each hiking one leg over the railing.

With one foot on the other side, they hoisted their other legs over. But in the moment that Philippe had straddled the barrier, somehow his penis had squeezed between his legs, so now his balls and big dick were sandwiched between the barrier railing and his thigh, pushed back toward his butt crack. All his masculine male genitalia contorted into a big impressive bundle of twisted meat showing below his ass. He paused a moment waiting for Cody to get all the way over before he swung his leg up so they wouldn’t collide.

Cheyenne was watching. Cheyenne saw that impressive package like a big flesh-pretzel between his legs like that.

Philippe kicked a leg over, his penis and balls slid up and over the railing, and then he was on the other side as well, both guys with hands behind them on the handrail, back muscles bunching. They looked at each other, Cody said something, then they both leapt out and up, hooting as they went down.

In a quick moment there was the splash as they hit the water.

Cheyenne said, “Should somebody go check on them?”

Carla said, “Their bodies will wash ashore.”

Cheyenne turned Byron’s way. “You want to go check?”

“I’m napping,” he said, feeling too heavy to get out of the lounger. Plus he was concerned that moving around would show off that he’d sprouted half an erection during that strange exchange.

“Well, somebody has to.”

Cheyenne looked from him back to Carla, sighed, theatrically closed her book, and pushed herself off the lounger and strode to the side. She looked down over the railing, and watched a moment. She shouted down, “You guys are crazy!”

Philippe and Cody shouted and laughed. Cheyenne stood and watched a moment, came back to the lounger chuckling to herself.

Byron said, “I take it they’re alive.”

Cheyenne said, “They look pretty good to me.”