We flew to Hawaii the next day. Jemma was a little intimidated by all the typical U.S. hype and bullshit, but our hotel on the beach was the perfect p...ace to make love until we were too sore to do it to each other one more time.One of my favorite sailing writers was visiting for an Around the Islands race series. I entered a drawing for crew spots on his boat and honeymoon luck was with me. I won two slots and got to introduce Jemma to sailing on a fifty-foot cruising sailboat. My wife is smart. “I am not sure what, but I sense that it is a very involved and special treat.” “You must realize that I am going to need a whole new wardrobe if I am to be a wanton slut, don’t you?” she admonished. The next morning, we awoke, got ourselves ready for a day of shopping and hit the roads early. We spent the entire day looking at and buying her a collection of tiny tops, halters, bikinis, hot pants, jeans micro shorts, and super tiny skirts of all types. She tried everything on for me, and made. It was then that she noticed the black guy sitting next to her with his huge hard on out. She whispered in my ear that she was getting a little scared as she was beginning to get a bit swarmed. I wanted her to get off and told her to sit back and enjoy it. She was moaning and breathing harder as I felt that my own breath leave me, when the black guy made his move. By now my wife's eyes were closed as she was enjoying her pleasure. He gently rubbed her tits, pinching her now rock hard nipples as. Mind you most of them weren't the type of words you'd use in polite company! For four days we didn't leave each other's side. We fucked. And ate. And showered together. And talked. And made love...We learned bits and pieces of each other's prior life even as we planned our future. It was that simple. Like we'd been hit by lightning.Marisa loved sex. Loved fucking. Loved talking about it. Graphically. You'd think a girl who'd been raped at such a young age would have forever been turned against.