Remember that "Running Around Naked" promo The Tribal Chief cut some months ago? Well, this is exactly what happened on the private island...in my mind at least. 😉
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A combination of sensations rouses you from your brief slumber - the heat of the Caribbean sun beating down on your bare legs, the cool sea breeze that sweeps over your face, and the familiar, masculine scent of the man you call your husband. You open your eyes, but the sunglasses covering them are not enough to shield your gaze from the unholy sight that greets you. "Jesus, Roman, we are outside," you groan. "You haven't put it away yet? You're gonna poke an eye out with that thing."
Above you, the Tribal Chief, the Head of the Table and the Universal Champion stands proudly, legs apart, arms akimbo, wearing nothing - yes, absolutely nothing - but a bright, cheeky smile. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead. And don't act like you ain't enjoy seeing me like this," he grins.
He's been in the buff since last night. He ate dinner naked, and had convinced you to go skinny-dipping with him afterwards. This morning, he refused to put on any clothes after showering, and he stayed that way for breakfast, traumatizing the poor unsuspecting waiter. It's early afternoon now, and he has already ridden a jet-ski in the nude, and Lord knows what else he's done while you napped outdoors in your shared cabana. Thank God the private island is indeed private; you would probably have been ejected by now. "Like you've given me a choice. God, I can't take your exhibitionist ass anywhere," you sigh loudly.
For all your grumblings though, you really don't mind. Roman is quite the specimen now, and he has worked so hard to look this way. You remember his time with the Shield where he was forced to wear Spanx along with that heavy ass tactical vest to cover up what he thought were flaws. The transformation has done wonders for his self-esteem and improved his relationship with his colleagues, his family, and most importantly, you. You're happy he is enjoying his new body, but still... "Do you plan on walking around like that all day?" you ask him.
His smile is mischievous. "All week, if I want to."
"We been here barely twenty-four hours and you already wildin' out."
"That's the plan. All we're here to do is eat, swim and fuck, not necessarily in that order," he pushes his Shady Rays to the top of his head and wiggles his eyebrows.
You smirk at your slut of a husband. "Really? No sleep?"
"You, my gorgeous, sexy wife, get to sleep after I'm done clappin' those cheeks, and only then." He joins you in the bed and places your legs on his lap. "I'm really glad we're having this time to ourselves, babe," he says. "No hyperactive kids, no wrestling, no phones ringing endlessly. Just me and my woman and every surface I can find on this island."
"If I remember, that's exactly how our 'hyperactive kids' got here," you remind him, making air quotes with your fingers, "So leave our babies outta this." You sit up in the bed and reach for the bottle of sunscreen, rolling your eyes and hoping he can't see through your sunglasses. "If only your fangirls could see you now, all buck naked and shit."
"They would love it and write weird fanfiction about me for the rest of the year. And if you roll your eyes at me again, I'll spank you." He watches you lather the sunscreen on your arm. "Let me do that."
