I lifted up and Marilyn helped me push my pants down, and then she sank down onto me. “I love you so much,” I whispered to her.
“I love you! I love you! I love you!” she told me. Marilyn was pressing herself against me tightly, her arms wrapped around me as she humped herself up and down on the cock deep inside her. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”
I moved against my wife as she rode me. Her eyes were closed and a blissfully intense expression suffused her face. When I finally exploded and blasted into her, Marilyn’s back arched again and she gasped in orgasm.
Afterwards, she sagged down against me. “I love you,” I whispered in her ear.
It took her another couple of minutes to rouse herself, at which point Marilyn climbed off my lap. “I think I need a nap,” she said, holding out a hand to me.
“Dishes can wait.” I got to my feet and kicked off my pants and stripped off my shirt, and then allowed her to lead me to our bedroom. I figured an encore in a more comfortable setting was in order.
We took a nap, a real one, after our ‘nap’, which while quite enjoyable, hadn’t been all that restful. Marilyn fell asleep with her head on my chest, and I had to ease her off me so I could get a little sleep myself. We cleaned up when we woke and I drove us up to Governors Harbor to a small restaurant that Mr. Finch had recommended. Afterwards, we drove home, took a quiet walk on our private beach, and then went inside. We made love one more time before falling asleep.
The next morning I woke at about seven. My kidneys were telling me I needed to get up now, despite it being a vacation. I went to the bathroom, and left my wife snoring, face down on the bed in the zillion count sheets. This place was pretty nice. I pulled on my swim trunks and padded barefoot out through the patio door to the ‘back yard’, the immense veranda and porch that looked out over the pool and on down to the beach. The sun was already up and it was very pleasantly warm. Charlie was probably buried in snow in upstate New York right now, but he was welcome to it!
I felt like I was moving very slowly as I wandered around the veranda, looking at things in the morning sunlight. I remembered a line from The Electric Horseman, with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda. In it, Redford played a broken down rodeo cowboy, and Fonda once asked him why he looked like he was hurting in the morning. His reply was that some parts just took longer to wake up than others. I felt like that some days, more now than before.
I was out of shape. I wasn’t fat, but I was starting to get soft. It was easy enough to stay in shape in the Army, because the troops usually had some form of PT every day, and I would join them for it. If the ‘Old Man’ can do it, they can do it without bitching, too, and it will be a very bold and stupid lieutenant who complains when his captain is working out.
Now, the only exercise I had been getting was with the rehab program, and that was effectively over. I had been doing some weights and swimming, but that had really been on hold. I had been thinking about putting in a pool at the new house, but that might not be until next year, and the pool at the town house complex wasn’t open during the winter. My knee really prevented me from running, and I hadn’t joined a dojo since moving home. Hell, I could probably get pushed around by an underdeveloped Brownie Scout right about now.
As I thought about it, I realized that I hadn’t even practiced either aikido or tae kwan do since last summer, before I had deployed to Honduras. Prior to that I had kept up with my practice, even joining the clubs to be had on any large army base. I wasn’t the toughest guy on the base, not by a long shot, but I certainly held my own and often managed to surprise an opponent.
I moved across the patio and down to the palm forest and on down to the beach. I looked up and down the beach, but it seemed pretty empty. I didn’t have my glasses on, but I couldn’t even see a blur of activity. I wondered if I could even do a kata still. I moved into the trees and found myself a flat piece of sand. I needed to at least try something. I began to slowly go through the motions of the most basic kata I could imagine.
The kata is a combination of training and exercise. It is common in almost all eastern martial arts, although often to different degrees depending on the art. There are different types, from slow and simple movements that act as a warmup, up to quick and furious combat maneuvers. Done properly, it is a balletic dance of precision and skill. Done improperly, you look like an arthritic Parkinson’s patient.
I moved like the latter.
I focused on simply loosening up and getting my muscles used to the movements again. I tried to bring back my old precision, although at the expense of any power or strength. Some of the poses required strength, though, and I found myself pushing to hold them, though it was definitely for less time than I had previously been able to work. I kept the speed down and tried not to push the knee too hard. After about thirty minutes of this, I found myself shaking with exhaustion and nerves. Those Brownies would be able to knock me on my ass — easy!
“CARLING!” I heard Marilyn calling for me and slowly moved in the direction of the beach, where her voice seemed to be coming from. I found her calling my name on the beach, and heading towards the northern end. She looked like she had pulled on a bathrobe and flip flops.
“Here!” I called back, and kept moving towards her.
“Where have you been?” she asked, concern in her voice.
I pointed back behind me. “Just down there.”
“I’ve been calling for you for ten minutes! Where have you been? What’re you up to?”
“I just needed to get out and clear my head for a bit. I was just doing some exercise.”
Marilyn smiled and looked relieved. “Oh, okay. I thought maybe you had gotten lost or something.”
I had to laugh at that. “Marilyn, this island ain’t all that big! It can’t be more than a mile or two wide in most places. All I have to do is walk towards the sun and in less than an hour I’ll find myself someplace wet and salty!”
She smiled at me. “You think you’re so smart. What if you were walking the length of the island, not the width?”
I smiled down at her. “Then if I haven’t hit the water after an hour, I’ll just make a hard right turn and find the water after another short walk.”
“You’ve just got all the answers, don’t you!” she protested.
“And I’ve got an answer for you!” I replied, crudely grasping my crotch.
Marilyn squawked and laughed and moved backwards away from me. “That’s not an answer! That’s a problem!”
I advanced towards her, but she kept dancing backwards away from me. I was just beat enough that catching her would probably leave me breathless before I had my way with her. I stopped and stood there with my hands on my hips and looked around at our surroundings.
“Carl, what’s wrong?” she asked.
I turned back to look at my wife. “It’s me. I tried to do some katas and they damn near killed me. I am so goddamn out of shape it’s not funny.”
Marilyn gave me an odd look. “You’re fine. It’s not your fault your knee is shot. You’re already moving way better than the doctors thought you would ever move. Look at you! You didn’t even bring your cane out here!”
I chuckled at that. “A cane in the sand? I don’t think so.” I took her hand and walked back down the beach. “I was thinking earlier, I haven’t done any training since last summer, before I went to Honduras. I need to join a gym and a dojo. I have to get back into shape.”
“You’re not out of shape!” she protested loyally.