|So How was Your Vacation? Pt.
by Whiff ©
It was a strange kind of vacation. With the damn GM presentation two days after I got back, my whole focus was on my laptop, trying to hone not only my introduction, but my people's segments as well. They were a lot more creative than organized, so it was time's like these that I really earned my admittedly preposterous salary. The choice of date had been the client's, and my effort to subtly get them to change it had not worked. So here I was, sitting under an umbrella beside a lovely swimming pool, a gorgeous white sand beach not fifty yards away, nearly naked women parading around, working. Life can be unfair, here on the fast track.
I mean, that's my excuse for not seeing it coming. I'd type a couple of paragraphs, sit back, flash the product detail onto the screen, stare at it a while, then close my eyes to see if it seemed to fit, to work in the whole scheme of things. The second day, I opened my eyes around three in the afternoon, and here's this teenaged blonde sitting there. "Hi there" she said brightly, grinning at the surprise on my face, I suppose. Well, sitting there isn't quite accurate. She had her chair turned so she could prop her legs up on the chair next to her, so her whole body was stretched out. Her bikini was as skimpy as they come.
Perhaps I should give you an idea about my life. I was alone because my wife of twelve years had given up on getting much attention from me, refusing to continue competing with the Advertising business. We had always taken skiing vacations, it never made sense to either of us to go from LA to a tropical climate. But, after the divorce, I wanted to change things, so here I was in Fiji, having made the reservations three months before we even heard from the Hardware division of the largest advertiser in the free world.
It's not like I was sitting there with a constant hardon. I had settled quickly into a bachelor life, and there was no shortage of blonde, willing babes. Somehow, I favored girls with different color hair than my wife's, but she fouled me up by going platinum the very month the divorce was final. The funny thing is, we kept sleeping together. I know that sounds unusual, but that was never the area that caused us problems. So I got laid regularly.
No, what it was was all that skin. As I say, it had been a while since I did a tropical vacation, and at home I rarely came anywhere near a swimming pool, or the beach. Here were all these great looking women, bouncing around in hardly anything, some well tanned, some with very white skin, some with suits that didn't go with their tans. There was something strangely sexy about that. So I was looking, I mean watching all this skin, but not really salivating, or chasing. Besides, I had to be on top of this presentation.
So anyway, here sits this blonde, not more a few years older than my daughter. But built very differently. Very differently. Stretched out between the chairs the way she was, her really fat tits leaned to the side, and her stomach was almost concave. It was a pose an older woman would never have gotten into, not only because it would have been uncomfortable, but also because you had to be eighteen to get away with it. Her face was very pretty, a little turned up nose, very full lips, big eyes. She was a big girl, and hadn't quite shed all her baby fat as she grew, but still, the overall effect was very provocative. So of course I got a hardon.
The little minx stared at my crotch when the old johnson popped up, and her grin got wider. "You look awfully lonely, sitting here. Don't you want to swim or something?" My mind, whirled, just for a second, you know the way it does when you're surprised, and then I got control of myself. I go into great detail about this because it's important for the rest of this story, which is bizarre. Her first impression was that I was really impressed with her, while the truth was that her surprise display of an admittedly voluptuous body had given me an instant charge, but I'm way too old to believe in even lust at first sight.
I answered, "Well, hi. You're an awfully pretty girl. Are you staying in the hotel?" I wasn't going to adjust my cock with her watching, so I didn't move, and it fell sideways to a less obvious position.
Her eyes came up to mine, and she said "Yes, Mama and I are up on the third floor. Isn't this a neat place? It's so green. The beach is nice. Are you just gonna sit here as long as you stay? I mean, that seems kind of silly. Last night, you weren't in the disco, or out on the patio after dinner. I guess you're working, huh?"
I was halfway through my answer before I realized it was probably a mistake to keep going this direction. "Yes, I have to give an important presentation the day after I get back, and it's my job to be sure it goes well. Not only my part, but my subordinates too. I agree it isn't what I had in mind, but, well, stuff happens." Thinking that might have sounded like an apology, I tried to recoup. "Why waste your time here in paradise with an old geezer who has his nose to the grindstone?" She smiled brightly, but there was a look in her eye. As she spoke, I realized what it was. Puppy love. I remember thinking "Oh shit."
"I love older men," she breathed, in a teenager's voice when they try to be sexy. I shut my eyes, on the theory I might be able to think more clearly. As I was trying to formulate an answer, I heard the chair squeak. When I opened my eyes, she was standing there, very near me, one of those boobs far enough out of it's cup to show me a full, pink nipple, surrounded by a pale untanned triangle, holding our her hand. "My name's Tricia Harwood."
I tried to rise, hit my head on the damn umbrella, shifted out into the sun, which was right in my eyes, squinted, and took her hand. "Umm, Brad Dexter. Nice to meet you." She giggled as I edged back down into the shade, rubbing my head.
"Sorry. Maybe I'll see you later. Hope so. You're awfully cute." As she vamped away, making an obvious effort to swing her practically naked ass, fussing with her top, I supposed to get the tit back in, I thought "Cute?" I'm approaching forty, for god's sake, consider myself handsome, in a patrician sort of way, and six foot two. Cute? Then I cursed myself for letting a little girl shake me up so. I kept telling myself that I'd have handled it better if I hadn't been concentrating on my work.
But, all that being said, it was no big deal. I didn't think. It took me a couple of minutes to get back into the media analysis, which was what I was working on, and I started in again. I noticed the slight darkening of seven o'clock no more than a few minutes later, it seemed. I'm that way, time whizzes when I'm concentrating. I was at a good point to stop, so I slowly awakened to my surroundings as the machine shut down.
Music was drifting down from the patio half a level above the now nearly deserted pool. It looked jammed, up there, halfway through cocktail hour. There were two sittings for dinner, 6:30 and 8:00. I had gone to the early sitting the night before, trying to get a little more done after eating, but with a couple of belts, and the wine they served with the meal, it didn't work. So I wasn't concerned, figured I'd eat at eight.
Which would have worked, after I had gotten a good stiff scotch in a traveler from the pool bar and showered, putting on a nice pair of linen pants, and short sleeved golf shirt, except there wasn't a spare table in the whole goddamn dining room. So I was standing there arguing with the headwaiter about getting served outside, when here comes Tricia. "Hi, Brad. Why don't you come sit with us? There's two spots." That killed my negotiating position, and the guy raised his eyebrows to me. Of course, it made sense, except that I was instantly nervous about encouraging this hot little teen.
She hung on to my arm as she led me around the place, and I flushed when a couple of people expressed subtle disapproval. You know, a raised eyebrow, a small smirk. I was thinking it might have been better just to get room service when Tricia said, "Brad, this is my mum, Janet." The beautiful auburn haired woman sitting there smoking a cigarette, eyeing me with appropriate skepticism, extending her hand, blew me away. One of those moments when the breath snaps out of you, you feel your face blush hard, and tingling threatens your whole body. As I took her hand, I stammered "Uh, hi, uh, Janet. Look, umm, sorry to, y'know, intrude, uh, on you and your daughter. It, it's very nice to meet you."
She laughed at my consternation, a lovely, low pitched, throaty chuckle. Her arm reaching up to me flashed the flesh of a full, right tit at me, and I realized where her daughter got hers from. As I sat down, she held my eyes. See, she was thinking I was a lecher after her daughter. I could see that. Tricia was trying to get me talking, while Janet and I stared at each other. She told me later she was thinking "Geez, this guy doesn't look like a cradle robber."
Look, life's like that. You get yourself into these impossible situations. I'd always been pretty good about thinking on my feet, and I thought I helped myself with the next move. I buried my face in one hand, groaning. Trying to show I was thinking, uncomfortable. The explosion of interest I had felt for Janet changed my thinking about Tricia from an easy little problem in gently getting her calmed down to a potential disaster. Putting my head down gave me time to think.
After a few moments, hoping my timing was good, I lifted my head, and looked at Tricia. I whispered, "You know, honey, your mum's younger that I am. But I can see where you got your looks" My thinking here was that this showed that I was an adult, and an inappropriate target for her, but also let Janet know I thought she was a fox. Well, so much for that thinking.
Tricia's face scrinched up, the way youngsters do, and she leaped from her chair and tore out of the room. I gaped at her, and thought I had blown it, until I looked back at Janet. She had a little smile. She chuckled, then whispered "Get out much, Brad? Gee, you handled that well." Then she laughed out loud, trying to show the room, and me, that she wasn't shook up by her daughter's show.
After everyone resumed their normal conversation, Janet said "She's a goddamn ball of raging hormones waiting to explode these days. This isn't the first time she's made a scene like this. I think her Dad's splitting has her shook, and no matter how often I tell her I threw the bastard out, she still thinks it was her fault." She'd been kind of looking down at her cigarette the whole time, and finally looked up. "She told me she met you at the pool. I knew she was all hyped up. Then when she saw you tonight, she didn't even ask me. She doesn't think, y'know. I must say, her taste is improving."
I remember that evening as being magical. When we got past the way we met, we chatted amicably about out lives, giggled about the problems my daughter might have, a sample of which I had just experienced, and really enjoyed each other. We both drank a lot, that nice soft white wine they serve. The first time she got up so we could dance, I saw her full body, in a tight, red silk sari kind of thing that just went to mid thigh, gorgeous legs in these matching high heels that brought her within a couple of inches of my height. By that time, I felt I knew her well enough to ogle her. She looked quickly around, then back at me, did a little bump with her hips, and leered. As she floated into my arms, she whispered "Like what you see, Brad?"
I breathed back, "Janet, you really are getting to me, y'know. I mean, feel this?" I shifted slightly as we moved, and let her feel my now stiff cock. I heard that chuckle of hers again. She held me pressed against her that way, and gurgled into my ear "Damn, I shouldn't make fun of my little girl. I've always been susceptible to a handsome man too. A nice, gentlemanly, intelligent, handsome man. Who's poking me in the stomach with something. Mmmmm." I felt her lips touching right by my ear. When my dong pulsed against her tummy, she chuckled again. Christ, I love that chuckle.
After one more dance, during which she would run her tongue lightly into my ear, and my hand started edging down to her butt, she leaned back and breathed, "I'm no wallflower, Brad. I'm OV, hot for your bod, and I hope you don't think I do this all the time, but that isn't gonna stop me. Let's go check on Tricia, then go to your room." I, of course, played coy by almost running to the elevator, pulling her along as we both laughed.
When something is too good to be true, watch out. Things have a way of going from great to catastrophe. And this did.
So, Janet and I are damn near tripping, and she's now pulling me toward her room. We turn a corner as she's fumbling with her purse, trying to find the room key, when she sucks in a breath. Looking down the hall, I see one door ajar, and hear squealing. Janet starts running full out, with me trailing behind. We tumble in to find Tricia flat on her back on one of the double beds, naked, and this big Polynesian between her legs, wrestling as he obviously tries to fuck her. Janet lets out a scream, and I throw myself at this guy, not realizing how big the son of a bitch is.
I weigh almost two hundred pounds, and am in pretty good shape, but I just bounce off this guy, though he goes "Oof" when my shoulder catches him in the ribs. I sprawl down by the bed, seeing stars, and Janet is on this guys back. She's still screaming. I reach back and grab the lamp off the table, stagger to my feet, and raise it up. He looks up at me, shakes his head, grunts as he tosses Janet sideways to the bed, and yells "Hey, brudda, little 'ho wanted it. Don' do dat. Fuckin' thing bust mah head, no, no brudda." He's sidling toward the door as he's saying it, pulling up his shorts. I'm frozen there, my head buzzing, adrenaline raging through me, gasping. Janet has shut up.
The guy slams the door behind him. The three of us are suddenly alone, Janet and I breathing like racehorses, Tricia kind of snuffling. Janet looks at me, then down at her daughter. "Jesus Christ, Tricia. What the hell's wrong with you? I mean, if you wanna get laid, do it. Goddamn it. You might've gotten us all killed, or that boy hurt, or....who knows. I mean goddamn it." Tricia starts to bawl. Her mother's eyes soften, and she falls down beside her daughter, hugging to her, starting to cry herself. "Oh darling, come on, what's wrong? I give you the damn pill. You know I won't raise hell if you lose your cherry. Boy, that asshole fucked you up good, didn't he?" I knew from the previous conversation that last was a reference to her ex.
Look, here's the picture. I'm standing there with the lamp in my hand, down at my side. This gorgeous woman that a couple of minutes ago was destined to give me a night to remember was stretched out on the bed, hugging this naked blonde whose big tits were wiggling as she sobbed. Janet's skirt was up to her waist, these pink thong panties showing a little shadow of dark pubic hair. Tricia's pussy's red as a beet. I'll tell you the truth. I got hard.
Tricia began whining, "I just wanted to neck, Momma. I mean, he was nice, and he loved my t..tits." Her eyes jumped up to me, then away. "I thought, oh I don'no, he'd... Oh, I guess I didn't think." They were both starting to calm down. As I replaced the lamp on the side table, I noticed a bottle of tequila, half full. I got the bright idea that we all needed a drink. I went in to the bathroom, got three glasses, and took the ice bucket. I went out the door, leaving it ajar, mumbling, "Be right back, get some ice."
When I got back, they were both sitting cross legged, on the bed, looking sheepish, but talking. I made us each a drink, straight tequila. I had obviously missed something, as I heard Janet saying "But dear, we all have to go through it, unless you go to a doctor. I suppose we could.."
Tricia cut her off. "That's not it, Mum. I get scared. At the last minute. Milo, he was so big. And when I told him to stop, y'know, just to slow him down, he kind of got mad. I didn't want him to stop, just...like, be gentle."
Janet had an exasperated look on her face. By now, I was sitting in a chair, kind of mellow, feeling the tequila in my stomach, feeling sorry for myself because it didn't look like I'd get laid tonight. Tricia was still snuffling, but seemed to have a death grip on her mother's hand. Janet took a big gulp of her drink, then looked at me and said "Get her nightgown, would you Brad. The white one in the closet." I took the little shortie, wondering, why bother? There was a black, loose thing hanging beside it, and picturing Janet in it made me hard again. When I handed it to her, Janet noticed, looked up at me, and kind of raised her eyebrows, with a wan smile on her face. When she shrugged, I got the idea.
I said "Well, good night ladies. Thanks for....an unusual evening."
To Be Continued...
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