The week before your wedding is a really lousy time to realize your fiancée has been fooling around in your blind spot for her. But even I had to admit she was probably cheating on me when I walked in on her riding her friend Aaron's dick in the living room of our apartment when I had to come home to pick up a memory card I'd forgotten on my way into work that morning. They didn't notice me over the sound of the TV they'd turned on to keep my neighbors from getting suspicious.

The breakup was swift, and terse, and relatively sterile. I told her she needed to be out of the apartment by the next month or she'd be evicted. I made arrangements to stay with my brother until then. She tried protesting, but there wasn't much she could really say to defend herself.

Her parents were upset, but to my surprise, not with me. Her mother didn't want to talk to me, but her father at least called me a few days after the incident and told me he was arranging to have the wedding taken care of, and he would send me a check for the reimbursements I would be due for the money that could be recovered of what we'd already spent. He also let me keep the honeymoon package that Tamara, my ex, had put together. Apparently, that pissed her off a lot. But it was a couple's package, and I didn't have anyone to take.

Well...unless you wanted to go, as my friend. My best friend, really, for most of my life. Neighbors growing up together, our families next door to each other, running around as kids before we had any awareness of the differences between the sexes. We attended school together through high school, and we even considered getting into college together, but your parents had pushed for you to go to a more specialized, private institution while my comparatively-poorer family had to rely on our state school. So...we expanded our social circles separately for a while, but when it came time for me to get married, I wanted you in the wedding party. Hell, you were at my bachelor party, which was paintball, dinner, and a pub crawl ending with axe-throwing. Manly stuff, but you and I managed to recapture that dynamic we'd had through high school, although you looked a lot different now.

So when I asked you if you wanted to join me on what amounted to a vacation in Bermuda, you eventually agreed to go with me, to help your friend through the grieving process, but also to have a nice vacation the likes of which people rarely get to have in this day and age. And it didn't hurt that we were doing it on Tamara's dime.

But of course, I shouldn't have assumed that all Tamara wanted was a relaxing environment where we could explore what might change in our relationship now that we were married. No, Tamara's whole problem was that she didn't know how to tell me that her simmering libido wasn't satisfied with my more traditional ideas of lovemaking, and a certain timidity I still had. She'd booked us at a resort that was designed to encourage sexual development between its couples, pushing them to try their limits with each other and to enjoy each other with greater intensity while learning how to express themselves in a healthy way. It had been intended to be a surprise. It would definitely surprise you and me.

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Hey, thanks for reading! I'd like this to be a longer-term RP where old friends become lovers after spending a few days in a sex-positive environment. I was thinking they would check in and almost immediately have a session with a counselor in which they were pushed to admit their attraction to one another. And then they could agree to try being friends with benefits for the weekend. But by the end of the week...they're lovers, with no going back.

Kinks to include could be touching, groping, teasing, oral, fingering, edging, gentle corruption, cumshots, creampies, facials, outercourse, handjobs, titplay, light bondage, and lots and lots of passionate fucking. There's room for raceplay in the way I've set it up, too, if you want to discuss other things.

Limits are scat, watersports, blood, and heavy BDSM.

PMs only please, I don't do chat. Discord's an option.