Chapter 37: The Villa

I’m married. Wow!

I’m Mrs. Megan Bannock.

Do I like that name? I could keep my maiden name – Watson; I could remain Megan Watson. Josh could become Josh Watson instead of Josh Bannock. I could do a hyphen: Mrs. Megan Watson-Bannock or Mrs. Megan Bannock-Watson. We could both do a hyphen. Decisions. Decisions. I’d have to talk to Josh when he and the other guys got back from their golf game. I thought it amazing we hadn’t thought about this in the entire year we were engaged.

As I pondered my name and other deep questions, I floated in the pool at the L’Oasis, a private villa Fiona and Katelyn arranged for our honeymoon party. The huge home sat on several acres of land on St. Marteen in the Netherlands Antilles. The estate consisted of a large Moroccan-style home with seven master bedrooms, several other bedrooms, two pools – one an Olympic size ‘negative edge’ pool by the house and the other a smaller pool nearer the beach, an eight person Jacuzzi (that we had fourteen naked people in it the night before), and a vista of the waters where the Caribbean Sea kisses the Atlantic Ocean.

The view from the patio around the pool by the house was spectacular. One perspective looked across the water to some of the hills making up the rest of St. Marteen; the other view looked across the Caribbean Sea where dozens of small yachts and ketches played against the azure sea. Further, the temperature was a balmy eighty-five degrees.

There were fourteen of us partying at L’Oasis – all on our honeymoon: Josh and I, the newlyweds as of three days earlier; Ray, Stacy and Fiona – the ménage-á-trois surrounding Fiona, one of Josh’s sisters; Carl and Katelyn – Josh’s other sister; Doug and Beth – intimate friends of Carl and Katelyn and now all of us; my sister Amy; and two guys we’d befriended that had been Josh and my flight instructors, including for the Cessna Citation jet – Greg and Dave.

Josh and I had flown Jeremy, Alex, Carl, Katelyn, Doug, Beth and Amy down in a rented Cessna Citation that could seat ten with a crew of two (Josh and me). We rented a plane because I had crash landed Josh’s Citation about four weeks earlier when I’d had really bad landing gear problems. This trip was the first I’d flown since the crash. I was reluctant to pilot the Citation down to the Island but Josh insisted that I be pilot-in-command so that I would get my ‘sea legs’ back after the accident. By the time we landed I had regained some of my excitement about aviation.

Josh and I hadn’t participated, however, all our passengers availed themselves of the opportunity to join the Mile-High Club during our flight to St. Marteen’s from Boston – with a refueling stopover in Jacksonville mandated by headwinds on the trip down. Once during the flight a very odiferous and nude Amy came into the cockpit and kissed the two of us. She tried to persuade Josh to come back and make love to her but he begged off in favor of greater comfort and a more relaxed time in the evening.

Greg and Dave had flown the rest of our revelers down in an eight passenger Lear Jet they’d borrowed from the Wichita Flight Safety Center where they worked and were part owners. As in the other plane, the passengers – and pilots taking turns in this case – played in the Mile-High Club on their way to the Island. Fiona, of course, insisted on having her picture taken sitting naked on Greg’s lap and impaled on his long cock as they flown along at 40,000-feet. Alex took the pornographic picture but only if Fiona took a similar photo of her. There were other photos too that Jeremy later shared with us from his laptop.

The two jets landed in mid-afternoon on Monday and it was almost five o’clock by the time our large party got to L’Oasis. We were all nude in the pool within five minutes of our arrival. Everyone understood the villa’s dress code.

We found the Villa well stocked for our arrival and soon everyone had a beer or wine and hors d’oeuvres to nibble on as they basked in the sun or floated in the upper pool. We were a frisky bunch and there proved to be no end of erotic play and suggestions about how we could all spend our night. A few of us ran down the steps to the beach and splashed in the Caribbean just to feel the sand under our feet and the soft salt water on our bodies.

The first night at the Villa, Josh, Amy and I again made love to one another, taking turns being the one being pleasured by the other two. Even with the events of the past few days and our love making the previous night I remained incredulous yet ecstatic about my sudden bisexual relationship with my sister. She told me she felt the same way and we both agreed that neither of us wanted to change back to the way things were before.