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“Not funny, George!” I shouted. He held onto me tight, arms pinned across my body securely, with one arm while he whirled the rope off to the side and up in the air with his free hand. His laugh grew more wicked and wild. “I thought you were enjoying the gentler and kinder side of me,” he said. “I was, I am,” I protested, still trying to break free from his grasp to grab the rope. “My holding you back like this, skin-to-skin, my body holding down yours isn’t an acceptable substitute?” he asked. He turned me over just enough to plant a long, lush kiss on my lips to silence and subdue me against the feel of the warmth of his body. I felt the rope again. This time the cut end of it barely drifted off and on my skin in random tracings. The stirring of my insides felt like a rudder that made my body slither slowly like a sheet of silk against his. Then I felt it wrap around my wrists with George tightening it securely. He folded my towel and placed it on the deck of the dock in front on. “Whoa,” Honey called. “Slow down boys. It’s not a race.” She traced her fingers between her breasts, down her stomach as she spoke. It worked. They both froze in their tracks. Apparently they were willing to wait for instructions. She turned back to me, kissed my lips, and whispered, “Let’s play, gorgeous.” Rob had the presence of mind to pop open a beer for each of us and pass them around.. He popped his open and raised it in the air. “To the good life.” he toasted. We all agreed, tapped our bottles together in salute and downed their contents. Honey set her bottle on the table beside the bed where we stood, turning to the anxious men. “Boys, strip,” she ordered politely. As they did, her hand found my backside and gave it a sharp smack. The shock of it made me gasp. Audibly. Honey pulled me into her arms, her tongue tracing the delicate skin just above my collar bone. Chills spread through my body. I’d been with other women, not many, but she was not my first. Yet, the way she.
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