A Holiday Romance at Sandy Shores

Then suddenly Vicky was sitting beside him. She'd hidden her face in a curtain of blonde hair, which she tucked behind her ear, looking down to avoid his gaze, biting her lip in nervous anticipation. Then she looked up, boldly, to catch his eyes flicking up from the depths of her cleavage to meet her own eyes. Inwardly she smiled; she knew she'd won the contest already. Boys were so easy to play with. She leant forward a little, just close enough for him to feel her breath on his cheek, and then stopped and waited for him to close the gap, knowing he couldn't resist. He brought his lips to hers and she captured the top lip between hers, sucking gently before releasing. They kissed again, and again, before slowly she started to part her lips, inviting him in. Victory was assured as his tongue danced over her moist lips, the tip of her own tongue just behind ready to welcome him, as she gently sucked the end and persuaded him deeper into her mouth. Slowly, gently, she danced her tongue over his as it explored her mouth. She leant forward ever so slightly, delicately brushing her heavy breasts across his chest. She could feel him trembling beside her.

Time, space, even life itself no longer had any meaning to Sean. All there was, was now, was her. This angel in human form, wanting him, brushing against him, so tantalisingly close and yet so impossibly far. He wanted to grab her and pull her close but was terrified of ruining the perfect moment. It was only when the dizziness threatened to take him completely that he remembered he was supposed to breathe.

"Fuck you," Kay said to Vicky, not unkindly. The contest was in no doubt. As Vicky sat back, Kay looked at Sean's flared pupils, his eyes only for her blonde friend. Kay knew she might as well not exist. "Tell me you're here with your ripped older brother, at least," she pleaded.

Vicky had to nudge him to get him to respond. "Sorry, no brother. But my friend Patrick is here. Assuming he's still speaking to me."

"Lover's tiff?" Kay asked.

Sean shook his head. "Some stupid argument." He could hardly tell them what it was about. But maybe he could make things up to Patrick. "We're going to the waterpark tomorrow. Would you like to come with us?"

"Love to, but it's fucking miles away. How do you expect us to get there?" Kay said.

"Oh, we can take you with us in Pat's car, it's not a problem."

Vicky stuck out a lip, shrugged. "It's supposed to rain again tomorrow," she noted.

"Double date it is then," Kay agreed. But Sean wasn't paying any attention. He was lost in Vicky's eyes again, his fingers entwined in her long blonde hair. Kay sighed, realising that her girls' night out with Vicky had now ended. She wasn't gonna stay here and be a gooseberry. Maybe Mum was back at the van and they could do vodka shots together until they passed out. "I'll leave you lovebirds to it," she said, getting up and walking away.

Neither of them noticed her leave.

///

"God yeah, just like that, fuck you're gonna make me cum..." Vicky groaned into Sean's ear as his fingers responded directly to her moans with little input from the rest of his consciousness.

His addled brain tried to work out how he'd come to be here: leaning against the outside wall behind the bar complex, French kissing this gorgeous blonde he'd only met an hour or so earlier. The kiss in the playground he remembered, but that's where things became a little hazy. It was only when Vicky suggested they take a walk and find somewhere a little more private that he noticed that Kay had disappeared. They walked, arms wrapped around each other's waists, around the park for a little while until Vicky found shadows she liked the look of, dragged him in, and swallowed his tongue while reaching into his jeans.

Fuck, she looked so hot, leaning back against the brickwork, tits jutting out and those perfect ruby dick-sucking lips pouting at him. Maybe I'm dreaming this, he thought. Maybe Pat slipped something into my beer and I'm hallucinating this whole encounter. Somehow that seemed more likely than this girl actually liking him, actually stroking him and letting him finger her in the semi-darkness of the keg store.

He'd stroked his hand up her toned thigh until he found her core, wet and ready for him, shaved completely bare. She widened her stance, encouraging his fingers into her. Those dance costumes are unforgiving, she'd explained. "Now you know Victoria's Secret," she teased. "I don't wear any." She kissed and nibbled at his neck as he beckoned deep inside against her G-spot.

Then she was trembling, her leg shook, and she grabbed at his hand to stop him teasing at her clit. She broke off the kiss and panted, eyes glazed. Then, she looked up at him, a very serious and determined look on her face. "You got any johnnies?"

Sean was so shocked by the question that he couldn't quite parse the sentence at first. He just gawped at her. "I..."

"Condoms, Sean. I need you to fuck me. Have you got any?"

In his heart of hearts, Sean knew that the chance of any actual sex this week had seemed so remote that he hadn't even bothered to pick any up. "Wait here," he said, zipping up his jeans - taking care not to catch his hard-on in the mechanism - and ran round the side of the building into the Gents' just inside the entrance hall.

Someone was busy throwing up in one of the stalls, choking on their own vomit. Some people just don't know when to stop drinking, he thought. He wrenched out the contents of his pockets, loose change spilling across a floor splattered with stale urine. "Fuck!" he shouted, clumsily plucking out a few pound coins with shaking fingers, trying to feed them into a condom machine that gleefully spat them back out of the reject slot. "Fuck you!" he shouted, slamming his hand against the wall-mounted metal box, which petulantly responded by setting off its tamper alarm. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

"Shut that fucking noise up, will you?" the vomiting drunk slurred. "Some of us are trying to chuck up in here."

Raw though it was, Sean recognised that voice. Pat's voice. "You okay, buddy?"

In response, he heard another load splatter into the pan, followed by a choking cough. "Shit, I think that was my kidney," Pat moaned.

Looks like I have to be the grown-up again, Sean realised, pushing open the door of the cubicle. Pat lay on the filthy tiled floor, vomit specked across his shirt and jeans. The smell was indescribable.

"Ah, shit, man. Look at the state of you."

"Your fault," Pat mumbled. "Worst wingman ever."

"Let's get you home," Sean said, trying to breathe through his mouth so that he couldn't smell Pat as he lifted him to his feet. Pat didn't seem to know how to use his legs anymore, so Sean threw one of Pat's arms round his shoulders, and staggered to the door.

Vicky was standing in the space outside, took one look at the pair emerging from the toilet and recoiled.

"'ello darling, fancy a good time?" Pat leered, eyes boring into her cleavage.

"Well, I did, but I'm going off the idea now..."

"Sorry," Sean said. "I'm gonna have to get his pathetic arse back to the van while he can still walk well enough that I don't have to actually carry him." You fucker, Patrick, he thought. Look what you've cost me - I was a hundred percent about to get laid, and with the hottest chick either of us have ever met. If I didn't know better, I'd think you did it on purpose. "I don't suppose you'd help me drag him back?"

"And get his puke on me? Fuck off!"

"Yeah, thought not. I can't leave him to drown in his own sick, much as I might want to right now," he said, glaring at his supposed friend, "so I guess I'll just have to see you tomorrow like we said?"

"Is he coming?" Vicky said, dubious.

"He's the driver."

"Shit."

"He'll be fine in the morning."

"He'd better be, or you'll have Kay to reckon with."

"Understood. And again, sorry. You have no idea how sorry."

At that, she smiled. She remembered how fast on his feet he was, racing to get the condoms. "Oh, I think I have some idea. You'll have to make it up to me tomorrow." On balance, she regretted not just taking him bareback like her pussy had been clamouring for.

"See you tomorrow," she said, and bid them goodbye.

///

TUESDAY

"Holy shit, someone turn off that light," Pat moaned, as the sun beamed in through the threadbare curtains.

Sean took a pint of water into his room, with a couple of aspirin. "Get these down you," he ordered.

"Fuck me. How much did I drink last night?"

"No idea, I wasn't with you, remember? You told me to sod off."

"Urgh. Sorry man."

"Don't apologise," Sean replied. "I met a girl, remember?"

"I can barely remember my own fucking name right now. What girl?"

"The blonde from last night, you know..." and then he blanked. He couldn't even remember her name! Began with V. Vanessa? Vivian? Shit, how could he not remember that! But in the brain space where her name should be, all he could dredge up was "blonde with big tits". Fuck's sake Sean, you're gonna have to do better than that. This is gonna make for an awkward morning.

"Nope. What about her?"

So Sean described his evening, the encounter with the blonde and her brunette friend - he'd blanked on her name as well, but thought it began with a K. "I tell you mate, they're both hot as fuck and horny as hell. I got to snog them both and they're totally gagging for it!"

"You better not be bullshitting me," Pat said. "I've not forgiven you for the lack of action yet."

"No bullshit, look," he replied, pulling his T-shirt down to reveal a love bite the size of a golf ball where his neck met his collarbone. "She gave me that when I was bringing her off fingering her behind the club."

"Shit, congratulations," Pat said, holing up his hand for a high five, which Sean duly delivered.

"Grab your speedos, man," Sean replied. "Just think about it - two hot chicks in bikinis, gonna be all wet and slippery, and dependent on us to run them around for the day."

"Man, I take it all back, you're an absolute fucking legend."

Sean beamed - whether from the praise, or from the anticipation of a day spent with the sexy blonde, he wasn't sure. But he knew he was happier than he'd been in a long, long time.

///

"You can't wear that!" Vicky exclaimed in mock horror.

"Why not?" Kay replied.

"'cos your whole arse is hanging out!"

"Hanging?" Kay said, twisting her waist to check out the G-string bikini bottoms in the pitiful caravan mirror. "Fuck you, my arse does not hang. It's taut and firm, you bitch. You're just jealous 'cos you have no arse."

"Don't need one, not with the girls on my side," Vicky said, struggling into the boob tube top she'd settled on. She didn't want straps digging into her shoulders, not today - red strapline sores were not a sexy look at all. And this way she had considerably more bounce. She'd spent an hour or more plaiting her hair up into a double French braid, to stop it becoming totally unmanageable in the pool. Kay could have got away with a simple pony but had decided, for whatever reason, that pigtails were the order of the day. Maybe she wanted Pat to use them as handles, Vicky thought.

"Yeah, I guess we're both playing to our strengths then. Been a while since we double-dated."

"They ain't gonna know what hit them," Vicky agreed.

"What is it with you and the nerds, anyway?"

Vicky shrugged. "I guess I like them shy. I like the challenge, plus once you break through that shell they are so eager to please."

"Nope, I still don't get it. I want a guy who knows what he's doing. Still, since you're so taken with this Sean geezer for some unknown reason, I guess that leaves me his mate. Patrick, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"What's he like?"

"Fuck knows. When I saw him last night he was paralytic from the booze. Seemed like a bit of a letch, to be honest, he didn't stop staring at my tits the whole time he spoke to me."

"Sounds like a right charmer. Still, any port in a storm."

Dressed in short-shorts and t-shirts pulled over their bikinis, the girls made their way to the car park at the front of the campsite and waited. A whiny, groaning sound emanated from behind the entertainment complex, and eventually a rust bucket with all the power and poise of a 1970s hairdryer screeched its way into a parking space in front of them.

"Morning, ladies," Pat called out of a window he had to wind down by hand. "How much for a trick?"

What a way to start, Kay thought. She watched Sean's head fall into his hands. This was going to be a long fucking day. "More than you can afford, sweetheart," she said. She went to get in the car, but there were no rear doors. Sean climbed out of his side, tipped his seat forward and let Vicky and Kay climb into the back before he righted the chair again and sat back down. Kay looked at Vicky, and Vicky looked back at Kay. An entire speech passed in that glance. A speech about disappointment and disbelief, about male inadequacies, about necessary payback.

With just a couple of gear-grinding attempts to turn the car, Pat managed to set them off towards the Wet 'n Wild Waterpark, just a little further up the coast.

Heat and chlorine struck them as they opened the doors. They shuffled their way through the entry queue, Patrick insisting on paying for everyone. They took their coloured wristbands - their colour would be called once their timeslot was up - and made their way to the changing rooms.

Vicky stood under the mushroom fountain in the shallow end and waited for Sean and Pat to emerge. She wanted his first sight of her to be with water running down her body. She wasn't disappointed by his reaction. She watched him mouth the words "holy fuck" as he spotted her, his eyes running over her body and struggling to make it all the way up to her face. Vicky smiled. This was going to be fun.

"Hi Sean," she said, all innocent.

"Hey," he replied, standing slightly awkwardly, as if to nurse a developing semi. Those shorts were quite unforgiving.

"Bloody hell," said Pat, emerging from behind his friend to take a long and finally sober look at Vicky. "Did you smuggle Kay in here inside that top?"

"You cheeky bastard," Kay said, slapping his arse, also approaching from behind. Pat turned to face her, and Vicky spotted his pupils flash wide as he caught sight of Kay's own ample cleavage in the American-flag bikini top, and her peachy ass fully on display in the risqué bottoms.

"You can talk about cheeky," he said, making a grab for her globes, but Kay stepped effortlessly aside and walked away, making sure to put some swagger into her hips. Pat followed, mesmerised, leaving Vicky and Sean alone once more.

Vicky pulled Sean close, let him feel her cool wet body slide against his, as she took him through the waterfall curtain for a kiss. Her long, long legs made up for her short body, so she was about the same height as Sean, maybe a touch shorter. The perfect height.

The lifeguards' whistle blew - no heavy petting in the kids' play area! - so they broke off the kiss and made their way towards the lazy river.

///

Sean couldn't stop looking down at Vicky's voluptuous body as she lay between his thighs in the double-ring raft they'd borrowed; his backside in the rearmost ring and her pert butt in the front. She lay down across the dividing plastic tube, her back arching, presenting her ample bosom to his hungry gaze. His hands fell perfectly on her upper arms, and he found himself stroking up and down her soft skin as they floated around the lazy river.

From this angle he couldn't help but peer down into the boob tube, into the darkness of her cleavage where her full breasts pressed together, watching rivers of water vanish between them, wishing he could follow. Her long legs draped over the front of the ring, feet playing in the rapids, with water pooling against the tiny wet triangle of material between her legs. Sean squirmed; with her head resting on his stomach, she couldn't possibly have missed his hard-on pressing between her shoulder blades.

How did this happen, he wondered. He'd met hot girls at Sandy Shores before, of course, but they'd never been interested in him. Part of him wondered if this was some kind of elaborate joke Vicky and Kay were playing on him. But it hadn't seemed like a set-up last night, as he slid his fingers inside her and she sent him off for condoms, then got annoyed when Pat showed up drunk. That had all seemed real enough. Maybe this is on the level, you lucky lucky bastard, he thought. Just don't fuck it up.

"This is nice," Vicky called back over her shoulder.

Sean had to agree. He couldn't think of a single thing he'd rather be doing than drifting along with a sexy blonde draped over him. Well, nothing else that they could be doing in public, anyway. They floated along, over to the cave-like section where curtains of waterfalls came down the side of the river. Vicky paddled them through then tipped the raft over, spilling them both into the little private seating area behind the waterfall. The raft was quickly claimed by a few kids that had been waiting for such an opportunity.

Vicky swam over to Sean, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. Presently she took his hand and guided it between her legs. Sean trembled as he stroked her core, her tongue exploring his mouth, scant feet away from members of the public. She's such a bad girl, he thought; I love it.

///

Pat was really starting to piss Kay off. She might like her men confident, but his attitude was verging on the obnoxious. And he was so hands-y, always had his palm pressed against her somewhere - wrapped round her waist, copping a feel of her bare arse, or draped over her shoulder and grabbing her tit. It was when he started tweaking her nipples that she lost her shit. She grabbed at his crotch, making animalistic noises, scratching at his chest.

"Grrr, oh yeah darlin', you love it dontcha," she growled, a feral look on her face.

Pat swum quickly away backwards. "What the hell?"

"Just doing an impression of you, mate. I ain't your piece of ass, so get your paws off me. And in a public place, too."

"Isn't this supposed to be a date?"

"You don't get to try for second base before at least buying me dinner," she scolded. "I have some standards, you know." She stood in the thigh-high water and started to look away. She threw her head over her shoulder; sure enough, he was checking out her peachy arse as she swayed away. Well fair enough, she thought, that's why I wore this ridiculous bikini. You can look, but not touch. At least, not yet. And not at all if you keep pissing me off, I don't care how horny I feel.

"Hey, sorry," he called back, wading closer. "Can I tell you something?" he said quietly into her ear.

"Sure," she said back, catching his eye. Wondering if he was going to kiss her.

"Nice camel toe," he whispered, before diving out of the way.

Fuck you, she said, raising a finger to his back, as she squatted down into the water and ran a finger through the leg hem of the G-string to sort it back out.

///

The time-up whistle blew, and reluctantly they climbed out of the pool and made their way back to the changing rooms - a communal area filled with lockers, and booths slightly larger than a phone box but a little smaller than your average toilet stall. Just about enough space for one person to stand and get dry. Each had a hook on the door - if it wasn't broken - and a small bench opposite the door.

Sean shuffled from his locker to the nearest room, trying not to drop anything on the soaking-wet floor. Tentatively he pushed on the door which swung inwards, checking to make sure nobody else was in there. It was clear, other than an old swim nappy on the floor which he kicked under the divider into the neighbouring stall, which seemed empty based on the lack of shadows he saw under the gap.