American Girls Down Under

The flight itself was only half an hour, down the coast and over a small stretch of ocean to the island. They were met by a minibus running to the resort, an hour away, the last part on a dirt road that terminated at their destination. The resort was made up of a staggered line of chalets, curving along a high outcrop overlooking a long, wild beach with high broken surf rolling in from the south.

"We'll see seals for sure," said Adam. "There are several breeding colonies around the coast. There's also a few small penguin colonies, they might arrange evening tours. Tomorrow, maybe.

"But now, why don't you two freshen up, and I'll meet you in the lounge for a drink, before dinner."

Half an hour later, Adam made his own way to the lounge, and settled in by a large picture window, with a spectacular view over the ocean. While he waited, he thought about the two gorgeous girls. He remembered the uncertain look in Leslie's flickering eyes when he'd touched back the curl of her hair, and thought she was a girl who didn't yet know the lovely young woman within. Besides, she loved Quinn, that much was clear, and why not?

Quinn was beautiful, her elegant, slender, dancer's body moving sensuously whenever she moved. Adam thought their friendship a thing of contrasts, on first look they were an unusual pair. But knowing their mutual attraction, and remembering some of what Mike had told him, Adam sensed they were outsiders back in college, some deeper dynamic throwing them together.

His revery was broken by the door opening at the far end of the lounge. He raised his hand to catch Leslie's attention, and she walked towards him, a sexy flick in her walk. She was wearing a simple pleated skirt, with black stockings on her legs and three inch heels. A touch of red lipstick on her lips perfectly complemented the red beret. Her braless breasts swung enticingly under her blouse, discreetly buttoned. Her eyes sparkled to see him.

"Ah, Mademoiselle, enchanté. Comment va-tu?" He got to his feet, and taking the tips of her fingers in his, brushed them lightly with his lips. "Tu es l'air très belle ce soir."

She blushed, knowing enough French to be charmed, but not enough to reply.

Adam saved her, adoring her shy little smile. "Where's Quinn?"

"Getting ready still. She takes so long!"

"Sit by me, then, and we'll wait." He signed for the waiter for another two glasses.

"May I pour for you, Miss?" asked the waiter, a white cloth on his arm.

Leslie looked up at him. "Yes, please."

"A top up, Sir?"

"No, thank you. Not yet. We're waiting for a third. I'll wait."

"Very good, Sir."

"So, Miss Quinn, she takes a while?"

Leslie touched him on the arm, and they were in a playful conspiracy together.

"Sooo long," Leslie sighed with mock exasperation. Adam smiled, recognizing Quinn's mannerism from the other night and wondered which girl had picked it up from the other.

"But it's worth it. Look." Adam nodded towards the lounge entrance, where Quinn was standing aside for an older couple to pass through the door ahead of her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, glossy black in a straight flow down her back. Her slinky dress draped immodestly over her slender curves as she walked gracefully towards them.

Adam noted the hungry look in Leslie's stare and touched her hand, startling her out of her awe. "Just as well I had room in my bag for her shoes," he whispered, before getting to his feet to greet Quinn.

"Quinn, you made it. Leslie and I are a bottle ahead."

"Oh Adam, don't tease. I was only five minutes!"

"Five minutes can be such a long time. I'd nearly forgotten what you looked like." He smiled at her, and in her heels, Quinn looked straight back at him. "But how could I forget?"

With a warm hand on her bare back, he guided her to the lounge, before sitting down again next to Leslie.

The waiter came across from the bar and poured Quinn a glass of wine. Adam held his finger against the side of his own glass, and the waiter topped it up.

"Ladies, a toast." Adam raised his glass. "An adventure!"

"An adventure," the girls repeated his toast, clinking their glasses to his.

"As the sun goes down, and into the night," he added.

"Into the night?" Leslie asked.

"And then the morning," Quinn replied, and there was a huskiness in her voice that sent a delicious shiver down Adam's spine.

"But look," said Adam, "the last rays of the sun making rainbows in the surf." He pointed down to the beach, where wind-blown sprays were blowing back away in long plumes from breaking waves, shimmering with rainbowed veils.

"That's magical," whispered Quinn, soaking in the beauty outside; just as Adam soaked in her beauty this side of the window.

"That's optics and geometry," corrected Leslie, always thinking how things worked.

Adam smiled. "How do you girls get along? You see things so differently. It's like being on both sides of Alice's mirror at the same time, in Through the Looking Glass."

"Are you the Jabberwock, Adam?" Leslie asked cheekily, once again surprising him, that she knew of it.

Adam paused before he replied. "Well, better to be the Jabberwock than the old white knight, who keeps falling off his horse, I suppose. Except I'd eventually lose my head. Not sure I'd like that so much."

"I think," said Quinn thoughtfully, "that you're more the kind of man who would want to turn his head..."

"...and notice beautiful things," finished Leslie.

Something shimmered through the air, some new awareness between the three of them. Quinn got to her feet, stretching her long, elegant body. "I'm hungry," she announced. "Perhaps we should eat."

"Me too," said Leslie. As she stood up, Adam was treated to a lovely sway of breasts under her blouse as she turned. "Come on, Adam. What are you waiting for?"

Both girls reached down for his hands, pulling him up to his feet. Momentarily, he wondered if this was an orchestrated move on their part, or whether they really were hungry after a long day, and just wanted to eat. Certainly, he had an appetite too.

"Shall we, then?

"A table for three, please. Ah, they're all by the window, that's good."

"Yes sir. In winter, we turn the room around so the tables circle the fire." The maitre-de lead them to a table set for four, and quickly cleared the extra setting away. "The menu, ladies, sir. We'll take your order shortly. If you have any questions about the food, please ask."

There was silence for a minute or two as they studied the menu. Adam leaned back in his chair to see the specials' board, before turning back to the girls. "Is one of you brave enough to try kangaroo, as we're in Australia? Cooked properly—and it will be here—it melts in your mouth."

"But where's it come from? It's not wild is it, like the kangaroos you see in the bush?"

"No, the meat comes from farmed animals, just like any other meat. It's a little like venison, if you've had that. Barramundi's good too, if you'd prefer fish. Says here it's from the Northern Territory, so that'll be young and fresh." He glanced at the girls, curious to see any reaction to his words. Quinn looked up, a tiny smile on her lips; she'd heard.

"What're you going to have, Adam?" Leslie asked, wanting to make sure there were no surprises, no strange Australian animals served up on a plate. But she'd heard his words too, and wondered some more about this man.

"Me? I think I'll have the wagyu beef. I feel like something tender, succulent and sweet."

The girls looked at each other, and under the table, gripped each other's hand. Above the table, their nipples tightened; perhaps it was a draft from the door, perhaps it was a chill in the air. Adam wasn't being paternal, not any more.

He flashed back to the girls offering their hands to him, and looked at what they wore. He decided they did know what they were doing, perhaps not precisely and not with deliberate intent; less an orchestra, more a small ensemble, practicing what they knew. He imagined a smokey room, Quinn like a tall, elegant double bass, his fingers on her neck as he held her body to him; Leslie a smaller curvy cello kneeling between his thighs.

"We should order," Adam said softly, "before you starve." Before the music stops. His cock thickened.

He signalled to a waiter who took their order, and brought some more wine.

Quinn's barramundi was every bit as fresh as promised — succulent, yet light and clean. Paired with a crisp Tasmanian chardonnay, it was the kind of culinary masterpiece she'd enjoyed only a few times before. The creamy white flesh melted in her mouth, and she caught a dab of jus on her lip with the tip of her tongue. She offered both Adam and Leslie a bite of the fish. Adam took in the delectable sight of a small breast as she leaned forward, and enjoyed that more. "Quinn, it's delicious."

Leslie tasted her wine again, trying to find the hints of blackberry and violet Adam and Quinn claimed they could taste in the inky red Malbec. To her, it just tasted like wine, but she ordered a second glass, determined to understand its complexities. She read the label again, wanting to know.

"Slow down," Adam suggested. "Take a moment. Experience with all of your senses. Inhale the aroma. Feel the texture of the liquid on your tongue."

Ahh, there was something, an after-taste lingering in her mouth, a different warmth on her lips.

Suddenly, her mind flashed to the tang of Quinn's sex on her tongue, and she understood then how to taste properly - slowly, savoring every different flavour, warming the smooth liquid in her mouth. She looked at Adam with a brightness in her eyes, and his eyes creased in response, just for her. Below the table, she clenched her thighs together and shifted sideways on her seat, finding more sensation between her legs.

Her braised kangaroo shank was so tender it fell off the bone like her mom's pot roast, but her mom's food never made her feel quite like this. She'd not been sure when Adam ordered his steak blue, but when she saw the look on his face when he took the first bite, "Damn that's good," she wanted a tiny bite too.

"Oh my god, it just melts in your mouth. Quinn, you must try some. Adam, can she?"

Adam ordered them all cherries jubilee for dessert and they enjoyed the table-side preparation and the chef's well rehearsed banter. Leslie gasped in surprise when he lit the bowl on fire, and pouted when Adam and Quinn laughed.

"Ahh, there, there, honey," Adam soothed her, tucking a lock of her chestnut curls behind her ear. "Think how lucky you are, so many surprises left in life. When there are no new experiences left, that's the time to be sad."

"I guess," Leslie conceded with a frown, "But Quinn knew."

"You'll get to laugh at me someday when you take me to Disneyland," Quinn promised. The thought of Quinn screaming on her first roller coaster did cheer Leslie up.

Over Quinn's protests, Adam charged the entire meal to his room. He held the door as the girls stepped out into the night and breathed in the tangy salt air.

"It's a balmy night," Adam observed as they left the dining room. "I think I'll take a stroll along the beach before bed. Would either of you lovely ladies care to join me?"

"That sounds so romantic," Quinn sighed, giving Leslie a nudge. "Just walking along the sand, though. No sharks, no jellyfish."

In truth, Quinn had her own reservations about Australia's crowded tourist beaches with their reputation for topless bathers. She was secretly relieved that Leslie had no desire to visit them. But a deserted beach by moonlight held a different kind of appeal.

Leslie frowned. "Crocodiles are nocturnal." She knew she was being silly. Her fear of Australian wildlife was irrational, but emotions are often irrational. That didn't make them any less real.

"You won't find any crocs this far south," Adam assured her. "That would be like spotting a wild moose in Florida."

Leslie could see that Quinn was eager to go. But Quinn waited, deferential to Leslie's fears. Leslie didn't want to disappoint her, nor Adam.

"Ok," she agreed at last, "I guess if it's just a walk."

"Just a walk, honey. We won't lose you, promise." Adam smiled at Quinn over the top of Leslie's head, and she joined his gentle conspiracy. Her eyes lit up in a smile as she took Leslie by the hand and Adam by his offered arm.

They followed the sound of breaking waves down to the shore. When the resort's wooden walkway gave way to the sand, they left their shoes behind and continued barefoot. Quinn and Adam relished the cool, inviting sand between their toes. Leslie retained her stockings as a psychological barrier to imaginary threats, and tightened her grip on Quinn's hand.

"The stars are amazing!" Quinn gasped as the lights from the resort faded behind them. "I've never seen so many." The great band of the Milky Way stretched above their heads, its veil shimmering in the cloudless sky.

"There's no light pollution in this part of the world," Adam explained. "You're seeing the sky as the aboriginals saw it, thousands of years ago."

"Hey! Is that Orion?" Leslie asked, pointing up to the north. It was one of the few constellations she recognized. "I didn't think he was visible in the southern hemisphere."

"Oh yes. Always called The Saucepan, as kids."

"So the Southern Cross would be..." Leslie took a moment to work out south. "Over there somewhere."

"Yes," Adam agreed, pointing. "There it is. See, the Pointers, they point straight at it."

"That's too easy," commented Leslie. "It really is a huge cross, with that fifth star. No wonder you guys use it on your flag."

"It's all so magical," Quinn sighed. The starlight shimmered on the water and the sand seemed to glow. She was accustomed to crowds and enclosed spaces, a city girl and urban tourist her entire life. The empty beach and limitless sky filled Quinn with a wonder she couldn't express in words.

With two quick strides, Quinn sprang into the air in a graceful split leap, landing in the sand and spinning away on her toes with a flurry of steps. She danced under the starlight to the music of the crashing waves. With her arms spread wide, Quinn kicked up a spray of sand and seafoam behind her as she twirled and pranced along the edge of the surf.

"The Sydney Ballet will be lucky to have her," Adam commented as he put his arm around Leslie's waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world, to walk on the beach with an uncertain girl.

"Uh-huh," she replied without enthusiasm, leaning her head against his shoulder, grateful for his silence and for knowing exactly what to do. Tentatively, she put her arm around his waist, and felt a gentle squeeze in return.

And then Quinn was back, taking Leslie by the hands and pulling her away from Adam into her dance. Leslie had the grace of a drunken penguin and she squealed self-consciously as she stumbled through the sand. But her inhibitions quickly evaporated as Quinn spun her and guided her, leading the smaller girl through a joyful dance, sharing her love of movement and the energy of the night.

Adam watched, slowing his pace to keep the spinning, leaping, giggling pair in front of him. He'd enjoyed the earlier decadence of their meal together, their bright glances and their laughter. But this display in front of him was pure joy, innocence and delight, the sheer delight of life. His place tonight was to be the indulgent lion, while the cubs played. Lionesses would prowl another night, he felt that now.

Panting, their breathe coming fast, the girls came back to him. "God, that was so much fun!" They each took an arm, and clutching themselves to him, steered him back along the beach to the bottom of the wooden stairs.

"Adam, this is the best. Thank you so much for sharing this with us, bringing us here. We'd never have found it on our own." Quinn reached up and kissed his cheek and Leslie, not to be left out, stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the mouth. Her shoes dangled in her hand.

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Just being with you two, keeps me alive!" They reached the top of the stairs. "But it's been a long day. You two must be exhausted. Off to bed, before pumpkin time."

They laughed, and looked at their shoes, still dangling. "No glass slippers, then, not even one," said Quinn.

"Yes, that's a bit of a shame, isn't it. Never mind. Maybe we'll find a fairy godmother another day." They arrived at their door, and Quinn dug in her bag for the key. "Goodnight, my lovelies. Sleep in as long as you like tomorrow. We've got all day."

* * * *

"Got all day for what?" Leslie speculated, as Quinn came to bed, her long hair brushed silky straight in the bathroom.

"Us, maybe?" Quinn replied, shifting under the light covers and wrapping her long limbs around the smaller girl. "He was pretty wicked at dinner, wasn't he? All that talk of juicy tender meat, and you with your wine. I saw you reading that label and licking your lips."

"How does he know? It's like he always knows just what to say. And do."

Leslie remembered Adam's gentle squeeze on her side, acknowledging she was there beside him, down on the sand while Quinn danced.

"He's teasing us, isn't he?"

"Yes, but we're teasing him too. You looked incredible in that open-backed dress."

"And you with no bra, under your blouse. You're a little French tart, in your beret."

Leslie curled a lock of hair behind her ear. "I might be... I wasn't wearing any underwear, ma belle dame...."

"Tu es ma petite." Quinn kissed her, "And I have to reward you."

Leslie heard a click and gente vibrating hum. "Is that...?"

"Uh-huh."

"I didn't think you packed it."

"It's why I didn't have room for my shoes," Quinn explained with a smile, before pulling Leslie into a long, slow, lingering kiss, their sighs drowned by the surf on the beach.

* * * *

The next morning the girls woke to find a note slipped under their door. Up early, am up the beach for a swim. Have breakfast, and join me after. Umbrella for shade, bring towels and sun-cream. Mustn't burn.

They looked at each other, their uncertainties about Australian beaches rushing into their minds. Quinn with her insecurity over her small breasts on display, and Leslie fearing being eaten alive by some terrible creature that just knew she was there. But Adam, the idea of him, that too crossed their minds, something lingering from the night before.

An hour later they made their way down to the beach, after being charmed by the waiter at breakfast. "Ah yes, Mr. Cain's companions. He's insisted, his account."

"Does this mean we're being kept?" whispered Leslie, uncertain about Adam's generosity, but conscious also of her student bank account.

"Probably," replied Quinn. "We'll make sure we pay for this evening's meal, just to even things up." She looked around the dining room. "We don't come cheap, but we certainly couldn't afford this by ourselves."

"God, I don't know," Leslie pondered. "Quinn, do you want to be here, like this?"

"Like what, sweetie? We're on vacation with a generous man. Don't make it difficult." She glance across at Leslie. "Besides, you wear that itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini of yours, that'll be payment enough, surely?"

Leslie knew she looked good in her bikini. Quinn always found her clothes that made her feel sexy.

"There, up the beach, that must be Adam's umbrella." Leslie pointed, and far up the beach there was a bright spot of colour back against the dunes, perhaps a half mile distant. They started walking, even though they could see no sign of Adam.

After five minutes they realised they were the only ones on the beach, and there were no tracks. Quinn looked behind them and saw their footprints in the sand, washed away in places where waves ran further up the beach. "We could be on a deserted island. Come on, half way there."