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I poured him a margarita as he sat down and began to feed him cocktail shrimp one by one. Jimmy Buffet sang ‘changes of attitudes changes of latitudes’, and we slipped into our own little world. Dinner was eaten feeding each other one bite at a time. Running our tongues along each others lips to wipe away a stray bit of butter. Then I changed the cd to Rod Stewart and danced a hula for Him to ‘Sometimes when we touch’. As the song ended. I stripped away what little clothing I was wearing and ‘poured’ him another margarita. I knelt in the sand with my thighs parted widely and ran his glass down over my skin whimpering softly as it pressed against my clit running the rim round in a circle. Arching my back gently, I picked up the pitcher and poured the cool liquid over my breast catching it in my hand, then raising the handful to my lips, I drank it slowly, licking away the droplets with my tongue. I raised the pitcher once more and shivered with a soft moan as the cold green river. Curious? Just you wait. The words were followed by a smiley face. To say I was confused would be an understatement. I put them all neatly back in the bag, covered them with clothes and closed the drawer. I stood with a flushed face, looking at the drawer to make sure it appeared undisturbed, wondering how I'd explain these objects to Mitch if he saw them. Not that there was any reason he'd go through my clothing, ever, but what if? What if he saw them? How could I explain the toy penis? Hell, how could I explain the things that I didn't even know what they were? I mean, I had to assume they were something sexual, being in a bag with a toy penis, but... how? What for? And why would they be in our house, hidden in my drawer? Well, if she'd wanted to distract me and make me jittery, it sure worked. All day, as Mitch puttered through non-essential home repair projects and I did a lackluster job of cleaning, it was like I couldn't stop thinking about The Secret Bag. That was how I thought.
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