The fireworks show ended. The six of us slowly turned back towards the exit. But our journey wasn’t over.
Not yet.
It had started five days before, in the pool area at Disney’s Polynesian Resort Hotel. Mike, my wife’s best friend’s husband, had run into Cassie, his old crush girl from high school. At the time, it seemed like an innocuous encounter. It turned our whole trip on its head.
In the end, there were six of us: myself, my petite wife Emily, her athletic friend Allison, Allison’s tall husband Mike, Mike’s high school crush girl Cassie, and Cassie’s older husband Jack.
Together, we played stripping games, sex games, and flat out fucked each other silly. We did it in the shower, on the dining table, and in the pool. Morning, noon, and (especially) night, we engaged in wild carnal activities with everyone except the people we were actually married to.
For nearly a full week at Disney World, we three couples came together, recombined, then fused all over again in unimaginably dirty ways. We shattered our marriage vows, decimated our boundaries, snapped our taboos, and made frightening new discoveries about our relationships and ourselves.
Yet, we’d also forged better friendships, established new bonds, and, maybe, even rebuilt ourselves into better people.
And in 12 hours, we were heading home.
The six of us walked out of Magic Kingdom arm-in-arm. One big clump of adults, all strolling down Main Street. The orange-yellow glow of the streetlamps bathed us all in a cinematic, striking light. Behind us, Cinderella Castle loomed over everything, a beacon in the darkness. In that moment, we didn’t feel like couples or pairs, or arguably even individual people. We just were.
When we got to the front gate, we paused. Like we were about to step over some magical threshold, and we needed to build our courage to make the leap.
“This has been amazing,” Mike said, “A great trip.”
“We had a lovely time with you all,” Jack said, “Truly.”
We rode the Monorail back to the Poly. We had the car to ourselves. Unlike prior evenings, there was no making out. We sat comfortably, sharing secret little smiles and staring out the windows, like watching every happy memory of the last week roll past. No one said a word. No one needed to.
“We have an early flight in the morning,” Allison said, when we stepped into the hotel lobby. It was quiet, just a few ambling guests and a couple of cast members. It felt sleepy and sublime.
“Paul and I both have work first thing when we get back,” Emily said.
We walked out of the main building and onto the paths of the resort. Ambient light from nearby torches made the sky look grey and dull. The evening was quite muggy, the constant thrum of crickets filled the air. The paths and surrounding grass were wet like it had recently rained, though I knew it was from the sprinkler system.
When the paths split, Cassie and Jack turned towards the beach and their bungalow.
“I need to pack,” Cassie said, “And I’m looking forward to getting some rest. After everything.”
“I know what you mean,” Mike said, “I feel like I could sleep for days.”
We all walked down to the lake together. We passed the pool. It was empty at that hour, but brightly lit. The blue water glowed like it was made of some other, magical substance.
We went down the wooden jetty up to the front of the bungalow. Behind it on the lake, a parade of whimsical, electric sea creatures floated past. A bright, blue dragon leading an orange, drum-playing octopus, and a few others.
The creak of the front door as it opened was oddly loud against the persistent hush.
“Well, this is it,” Jack said.
“It’s been a lovely time,” Emily said.
“Definitely,” Mike said.
“We can’t wait to do it again,” Allison said, “Soon.”
“I’m already looking forward to it,” Cassie said.
We all stepped into the hallway of the bungalow. It was so familiar now, almost like coming home. Jack flipped on the lights, and we sauntered to the living room. Emily and I found our way to the couch. Allison and Mike sat down on the two, separate lounge chairs. Cassie grabbed a seat from the dining table and spun it around. Jack did the same.
After everything that had happened, we started in the strangest way of all. Emily leaned over, thin arm around my back, and kissed me, softly, on the lips. I let myself fall into her. It felt like forever since we’d melded this way. Like kissing my wife was our most novel experience yet.
I noticed differences now, in how Emily’s lips met mine. I thought I knew how my wife kissed. Now her tongue deftly danced across my mouth. She gave me little nips and nibbles. Her body even responded differently, rising sharply as the anticipation, the adrenaline, pumped through her veins.
It was intriguing and upsetting, feeling how much my innocent wife had changed. I wondered if my kisses were different, too. Was Emily feeling the influence of Cassie and Allison on my affections in the same way that I could tell Jack and Mike had reshaped her?
Across the coffee table, I saw that Allison and Mike had leaned forward in their seats and started making out, as well. Her hand rested lovingly on his cheek. Cassie and Jack slid down to the rug and did the same. The older man bit tenderly at Cassie’s earlobe, and she let out a low moan.
Emily undid her bun, letting her brown hair hang free. She reached for the hem of my t-shirt and lifted it over my head. She gave me a lustful grin as she ran her fingers through my thick, dark chest hair. She raised her arms, making it clear what she wanted. I took her top off for her. Her perky breasts looked so perfect in her black bra.
Jack pulled up Cassie’s diaphanous, white dress in one smooth motion, leaving her in only a matching ivory bra and panties. Her golden blonde hair haloed around her head. She undid the buttons of Jack’s shirt, exposing his tan, muscular pecs and silvery chest hair.
Allison and Mike stripped their own shirts off, hurriedly. Like they were racing to get themselves naked. Allison lovingly traced her fingers over Mike’s long arms and thin, almost-hairless, chest. Mike, meanwhile, played with his wife’s small, round breasts — bouncing them, playfully. Allison took her strawberry-blonde, poker straight hair out of its ponytail, letting her locks spill down over her shoulders.
There was something strangely forbidden about this, watching each other with our mates. A marriage has an inherent intimacy, beyond whatever we’d already physically shared with our non-spouses. Displaying this part of our partnership was another layer stripped back and exposed. Ever closer to our fragile, fundamental cores.