Page 48 of Embracing Us

For two hours, Tony treats us to a long, albeit interesting, guided tour of some of the key tourist attractions on the island. Linda’s mouth drops open when we arrived at the top of the rock, only to be surrounded by wild monkeys. “The Barbary Macaques are the only free-roaming monkeys in Europe,” Tony explains. “How the colony took residence on the island is a mystery. I expect they arrived on a trade vessel hundreds of years ago and have been here ever since.”

“Are they vicious?” Linda asks.

“No, but they can be light-fingered, especially around food. So, if you get out, please do be careful of your belongings. I’ve seen a few of them wearing sunglasses in the past. And they have a weakness for shiny things. Many mobile phones have fallen to their death here at the hands of one of these terrors.”

“Is he joking?” Linda whispers to me, lifting her hand to disguise her mouth. I shrug. “Little bastards better keep their hands to themselves,” she mumbles.

As we navigate around the hordes of tourists and cars pulled into the side of the road, dozens of brown monkeys surround us from all ages and stages. A mother nurses a young baby whilst what looks like a grandfather sits in the centre of the road blocking traffic.

“This is incredible,” Linda says, her eyes darting from one window to another, unsure where to look. “It’s like being on safari.”

“Safari,” I repeat back to her, raising an eyebrow. She looks at me then sticks out her tongue. “I think we may be missing the lions and elephants. Sadly, Beautiful, I can only supply monkeys on this occasion.”

“It is still amazing to see them here, living like this. It’s completely unexpected.”

“We can stop here,” Tony says. “You can wander around, see the monkeys, then it’s only a short walk up to the Skywalk. There are the most amazing views over to both Morocco and Spain, never mind of Gibraltar itself.” The car stops, and Tony cuts the engine. “Go and explore. I’ll be here when you’re ready to head to the World War II tunnels.”

***

Linda

Max steps out of the car, then walks around to open my door. He holds out his hand, aiding my exit from the rear seat. Monkeys surround us interspersed with tourists. Some sit on walls, others higher up the sheer rock this incredible territory is built on. People talk excitedly about the unique wildlife and situation surrounding them. The infectious happiness of holidaymakers buzzes all around us.

Further up the road, we find a sign directing us towards the Skywalk. The attraction is located high up on the rock. I’m told it’s over three hundred metres above sea level by an information board. The views are incredible. With it being a clear day, miles of crystal blue ocean extend out in front of us. The viewing platform is glass; as I step onto it, my stomach flips.

“Don’t look down,” Max whispers in my ear. “Look out at the scenery rather than what is beneath you.”

“The lack of what is under my feet you mean.” His eyes move to the information signs dotted around.

“According to this, the glass holding us is only 4.2cm in depth. Amazing isn’t it? That something so thin can be strong enough to hold…” He squints as he continues to read the words telling him all about the construction of this incredible stage. “Five Asian elephants or 340 people.” He glances around at the other individuals standing looking out at the view. “There are only twenty or so people here, Beautiful. Even after that club sandwich you had before we left the hotel, you won’t risk breaking the supports.” I swipe at his shoulder.

“Cheeky bastard. It was you eating chocolate spread out of the jar with a spoon last week,” I remind him. He rubs his stomach, then licks his lips.

“It was delicious, but I’d rather have been licking it off your nipples,” he replies, smoothly.

“What have I told you about making dirty statements in public, Mr Gordon?” I say, pretending to be aggravated and stepping towards him. My breasts connect with his chest. He places a big hand on each of my ass cheeks then squeezes hard. I yelp. A woman snorts through her nose in obvious disgust as she moves to step past us. We both glance in her direction.

She is most likely in her fifties with a perm of crazy grey curls. The knee-length shorts she wears expose her toned, trim legs, and heavy boots protect her feet. She is dressed ready to hike complete with a map around her neck and backpack. The man she is with follows behind her, not speaking. Dressed in an identical outfit, I assume he is her husband, judging by the yellow-gold ring on his finger.

“Newly married,” Max announces and looks her directly in the eye. She blinks at him, surprised at being addressed this way. “I apologise for not being able to keep my hands off my new spouse.” He leans towards her husband conspiratorially. “I mean, can you blame me? Look at her. I have a hot wife.” The man laughs and his wife’s eyes blaze angry. I bite my lip to hide my smile.

The more we are together, the lower our barriers drop. Max’s open affection has morphed into public displays of sexual innuendo. My responses, which were once tame and meek, are slowly becoming more promiscuous. It is a dynamic I am loving exploring as it develops, though sometimes I want to punch him in the moment he says whatever dirty thought that’s popped into his head.

“Have a lovely honeymoon,” the man says with a wink. His wife storms off towards the glass barrier, lifting her map as she walks. She scans it as if looking for an answer.

“Do you think she is looking for a well to drown him in?” Max whispers. We both watched the downtrodden husband move to her side. She snarls up at him. I can’t hear the words, but it is obvious from her expression she is not happy. “Maybe we should offer him a lift in our car down to sea level, in case she’s plotting to throw him over the cliff.”

“That’s what marriage looks like sometimes,” I say, robotically. “One person in charge, the other following the rules for an easy life.” I sigh softly under my breath, my thoughts drifting to the unhappiness that tainted my first union.

“Not ours,” Max tells me. “Our marriage will look nothing like that. Not now or in years to come. We work as a team, there is no captain on this ship. Both of us respect each other’s needs and wants. I want to make you happy as much as you do me.” My eyes lift to the man I’m so lucky to call mine. “Never stop talking, Beautiful. If something is bothering you, tell me.” He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Because you are the most important person in my world, and our marriage is the most crucial component in my life. Making you happy is my number one priority.”

Unable to control the emotions his words trigger, I rise up on tiptoe, kissing him fiercely. “Get a room,” a man shouts with a laugh. “You’ll make the rest of us jealous. We don’t get any action like that behind closed doors, never mind in public.”

“Newly married,” Max shouts back.

“Is that your answer for everything?” I whisper, my cheeks flushed in embarrassment at being called out by a stranger. Yes, I’m more confident but nowhere near as relaxed as Max is.

“Beautiful, we will be newly married for years to come. I’ll never want to stop making public displays of affection. This, what we have, will never end. It may adapt and change, but I’ll always want to drag you into a dark corner and fuck you.”

I laugh out loud. “A beautiful speech rounded off with your dirty tongue.”

“Always,” he agrees. “The perfect combination of romance and erotica. Just the way you like it. My little smut slut.” He winks, then places a firm hand on my waist and guides me back towards the car.

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