Free A Summer Vacation: A Wife-Swapping Novella by Arnica Butler

down her skin, along her side, and into the dark fabric of her tiny thong.
    “You always were a bit of a downer,” she said, playfully. She held out her drink, and he took it from her without thinking about it – Zahra had that sort of commanding effect on people. She took three sexy steps towards the pool, before she stretched her magnificent arms over her head, and dove gracefully into the water, on the side of the group of splashing guests.
    Breasts bounced everywhere, and the ladies squealed and splashed water at each other.
    Steve looked around helplessly.
    He then saw what he had not seen before: only half the party was really this wild. Plenty of women were still clothed and sitting in deck chairs, caught up in conversations with men or a group of people, like an ordinary party. The panic that had been building up inside of him, that the party was disintegrating into an orgy, released. He also felt a pang of disappointment, but really it was more relief. Reza, who was still standing by the bar, lifted a drink toward him in salutation, and Steve raised his empty glass.
    Reza's eyes suddenly flicked away from Steve. Behind him. And Steve knew what he was looking at before he turned around.
    Helena was emerging from the cabana just then. She had put on yet another new swimsuit. This one was red, and almost couldn't be called a suit at all. Two strips of red fabric sliced down her front side in a v-shape, just covering her breasts as they cut down to her pelvis and only – only just barely – covered her snatch. In fact, of she hadn't been totally shaved, she couldn't have worn the suit. Even a landing strip would have been peeking out of the top of the “v”.
    Steve's jaw dropped, and he had the sense around him that Helena had sucked all the air out of every man's lungs. The shape of her breasts was totally visible, the neat curve of her abdomen, and the firm roundness of her ass was undoubtedly hanging out the same way from behind.
    Steve moved toward her, resisting the urge to pick up a towel from a nearby chair and cover her up.
    His mouth emitted a few syllables, wanting to tell her to cover up, wanting to tell her how hot she looked, wanting to ask if it was really her suit...but instead he just kind of grunted.
    She gave him a twirl. The back of the suit was not much better, but at least a swatch of fabric held the v-shape in place across her back, and a slightly thicker v covered – again, only just – the crack of her ass and a tiny bit of the round hump of flesh around it.
    “You like?” she asked, winking.
    “Hey Helena,” Steve heard Reza call. “Nice suit.”
    Someone else whistled.
    “You look stunning, darling,” Zahra said, from the pool below them. Her black hair was slicked back like an otter, and she was floating on her back, giving Steve a nice view of her breasts under the shimmering water.
    Just like that, Steve was forgotten. Helena sat down on the edge of the pool, and kicked her feet playfully in the water. Then she glided out to where Zahra was, and their wet bodies seemed to merge in the water, sending a ripple of pleasure through Steve.
    He wiped his eyes, and backed away slowly, toward another shadowy chair, content to watch his wife as she glided through the pool, glistening, touching other women. And to watch Reza's eyes on her, enjoying her scanty red swimsuit, and all the flesh it revealed. 
    And there he sat. The party droned on around him and he let his fantasy take over his thoughts again and again, as he watched his wife in the pool. It seemed to him as though all male eyes were on her, and though he knew he was deliberately seeking out the expressions that made him the most jealous, and spinning up the intensity of his thought for his own perverse pleasure – it was also true. His wife was a gorgeous blonde, bouncing in a pool full of gorgeous women, and most men were choosing to look at her .
    Think about her.
    And imagine her suit falling right