No, that's my wife's sister. It'd be weird

I feel Alexis gently moving away, beginning to stand up. In the distance, faint cries can be heard.

I hear the sounding voice drawing nearer. It's my wife, Trisha, her voice still smooth and soothing even under stress.

"John!" She cries out, "Alexis, where are you!"

"We're over here!" Alexis lets out, her voice cracking a bit from the strain of yelling.

I hear the violent rustling of sand as Trisha runs toward us, the smell of her perfume moving with the wind, embracing my nostrils. Her perfume is a homemade mixture of vanilla and lavender essential oils, which always seems to calm me, even in the most stressful of situations.

"Oh my god, is he dead!" Trisha frantically screams

"He's fine Trisha." Alexis says in a reassuring voice, "I think he was knocked out by some debris while we were washed ashore."

Alexis looks down at me, noticing the bulge in my pants from my semi-erect cock, which was caused by her earlier rubbing of it. Alexis nonchalantly moves between Trisha and her view of my crotch, hoping to avoid any questions pertaining to what she was doing to me before Trisha arrived.

Trisha slowly bends down next to me, gently caressing my face while leaning down to kiss my forehead, her breasts resting on my shoulder.

"Please, don't leave me." Whispers Trisha as she places her forehead on mine