A swinger couple on a business/pleasure trip (FIRST_NAME he, LAST_NAME she).

John sat on the corner of the bed and looked out to the balcony. A ceiling fan stirred a breeze into the warm afternoon air. The flowering vines twined through the railing breathed a touch of sweetness through the open french doors, and the long white curtains rippled with the lazy breezes. His wife Doe was at the vanity brushing out her hair after a quick bath, like she always liked to do after a long travel day.

"Hey honey," he said, "whatcha think of the digs?"

"Plush," Doe said. "Linen, silk, and mahogany everywhere. Two king beds and a foldout. The kitchenette of a caterer's dream, a Bang and Olufsen entertainment center, and God, that bathroom." She made a kiss-kiss noise with her lips. "I can't wait to try out the room service. This is supposed to be a business conference?" She kept brushing, long, soothing strokes through her hair. Her silk dressing gown slithered round her body with her movements.

"The guys in Bermuda got to pick," John said. "They had a good year and kicked in some extra."

"Do you think our 'old friends' managed to make it?" she asked.

"While you were in the bath, I read through the stack of notes they gave us when we checked in. It wasn't all business. There was a message from Franz and Rosalia in Mexico City," he said. "They said they'd be here, but it might be tonight or tomorrow. And of course Justin and Latifah got here yesterday and are out skindiving."

"Poor Justin," Doe said. "He burns so easily. I hope he doesn't look like a lobster tomorrow. At least Latifah doesn't have that problem." She looked round at the sheaf of messages. "What's the red envelope?" she asked.

"Special hotel services," he said. He dug a round gold seal off the flap, opened it and unfolded the sheets inside. "Rosalia said I should ask for it when I reserved the room. Looks like the first page is a long checklist, some kind of room service menu or something." He squinted, then brought it over to the ring of bright lights round the dressing table mirror.

"Nice paper," Doe said. "Looks like a rice and sugarcane fiber blend."

"My wife the artist," John said. "Whoo-hoo, wait a minute!"

She pressed her fingertips to the paper, bending it down so she could see it. She giggled. "My goodness!" she said. "Naughty, naughty! You say investment fund managers picked this hotel?"

"I don't think they know about this. Not most of them, anyway," he said.

"You in the mood for ordering off this list, tiger?" she asked.

He coughed, "Well... we couldn't expense it," he said. "But maybe we should look it over."

"It's almost time for happy hour," she said. "Maybe we should go down and check out the scene. Hope it's not all boring middle-aged couples like us!"

"Doe, how can you call us boring?"

"Michael and Elizabeth just did last week," she said.

"I can't believe the twins said that to you," he said. "Send them to college and they forget their manners."

She laughed. "I think 'boring' means we did a good job keeping grown-up stuff away from them."

He put his arms on her shoulders. "I suppose I could stand to wander around the pool with an umbrella drink in my hand if that's what you want," he said. He dug in his fingers and rubbed her shoulders, and she purred with pleasure. "But maybe we could have a little happy hour right here," he said. "At least a quick one."

"Hmmmmmm," she said. "You tempt me. Get thee behind me, demon! Wait! You're already behind me."

He laughed, doing his best at 'low and sinister'.

Doe rustled the 'special services' papers. "No shortage of temptations here, either. How about 'bathed in warm cherry syrup?'" she asked.

"I think you have to go downstairs for that one," John said. "It doesn't really say that, does it?" He slipped his hands under her arms and cupped her breasts.

She laughed. "You're right, I made that up. But I could go for this one," she said, pointing. "Oh honey, mmm, that feels good, keep doing it," she said.