April and Her Friends Ch. 01

For Kumar Mehrotra, this vacation in Mexico was just the thing he needed to chill out.

Puerto Vallarta may not have been the most original vacation destination imaginable, but it was a reasonably quick plane trip from Syracuse, and it seemed to offer plenty of variety for someone who really didn't want to take a whole lot of excursions or side trips. There was the beach—useless to him in many ways, since he couldn't swim and, as a native of India, didn't need to work on his tan; but it was spectacularly beautiful, and he enjoyed wandering along the shore and through the old town, especially the locales where The Night of the Iguana had been filmed. His hotel was second to none, and he often spent the entire day just lounging around the open-air swimming pool and at times even venturing in. He had to cling to the side or remain in the shallow part of the pool, but the temperate water was a refreshing break from the heat of a July afternoon.

At the age of thirty-four, Kumar had ascended rapidly in his chosen profession. Born in Chennai, he had emigrated with his family to the United States when he was a small child. Unlike most Indian men, he was of imposing physique: nearly six feet tall, with the broad shoulders and muscular frame of a linebacker. But it was his brainpower that had secured him his lofty status as a highly sought-after consultant in the computer industry. He had enjoyed his undergraduate and graduate school years at Cornell so much that he decided to remain in the Ithaca, New York, area. After several years at an office job, he was able to become a full-time freelancer, setting his own hours and choosing the firms he worked for. But his discipline and self-motivation made him work even harder when he was his own boss than when he had been someone else's subordinate; and he realized that the time had come for at least two weeks of thinking about nothing more strenuous than what kind of cocktail he would have over dinner.

On this sunny mid-afternoon, Kumar somehow couldn't motivate himself to do anything but stay by the hotel pool. He chided himself a bit on his idleness, for the place was now getting filled up with all manner of noisy teenagers, along with others who were shattering whatever tranquility he had previously attained. But, as a normal, healthy, and unattached man, he felt it was his prerogative to look at the bevy of slender, bikini-clad teens and twentysomethings who shouted and giggled and horsed around at the pool. The teenagers were of course entirely off-limits as far as anything more than gawking was concerned; and he strongly doubted that he had the energy to engage the non-jailbait women in anything more than flirtatious conversation. At the moment, he couldn't even bring himself to do that.

That was when he noticed a girl (or a woman) dressed in a scrumptious white bikini, her golden hair framing a heartrendingly beautiful face of delicate features—slender nose, Cupid's-bow mouth, and above all a pair of blazing green eyes—and ripe fullness of figure who was tentatively putting a toe in the water to gauge its temperature. Kumar was, somewhat recklessly, hanging onto one corner of the deep end of the pool—it was a full nine feet deep at this point—and this heavenly dream of a woman (she was either in her late teens or early twenties) was only a few steps away from him, although not paying him the slightest attention. But she wasn't paying anyone else any attention either.

That was when she recklessly plunged into the pool, feet first.

*

April Waters was going to make sure to enjoy every minute of this vacation. She knew that her stepmother, Carolyn, didn't have a whole lot of money to burn, so this two-week trip—a quick flight from their home in Seattle—would have to serve jointly as a birthday present (she had turned eighteen a week ago) and a kind of reward for graduating from Roosevelt High School. It had been a bit of a struggle, for various reasons, and April had been lucky not only to get her diploma but to get accepted at the University of Washington, whose immense campus was within walking distance of her house. She had never been to Mexico; and although she would have liked to see other parts of this vast and diverse country, Puerto Vallarta was just fine as a destination that offered something for every kind of taste.

Her stepmother had gone off to do some serious shopping in town, but that kind of excursion held little interest for April. Lacking the initiative to go off on a solitary venture, she decided it was time to show off her physical assets to anyone who cared to look. She knew she had a great figure, especially in the swell of her ample breasts and the curve of her exquisitely sculpted bottom. Plenty of the guys at Roosevelt had made it plain that she was pretty much the class beauty, and she in turn had proved by word and deed that she was open to just about anything that was fun and enjoyable. With her stepmom around her nearly all the time, April didn't expect anything of great interest in that line on this trip—but she had no problem with males (and females) giving her the once-over.

As she examined the water with a delicate toe, she concluded that it was warm enough for a plunge. She was a pretty good swimmer; but given how crowded the pool was, she didn't expect to be able to swim laps unless she wanted to run a kind of obstacle course. But just sinking down into the deep end of the pool would surely be refreshing.

*

Kumar saw the lovely creature dive into the pool—but also noticed that the gentle smile on her face was suddenly erased when her head struck the edge of the pool as she did so. The pool was so small that she had little space to call her own, and she had tried to slip in at the very edge in order to avoid the masses of people who were clogging up most of the area.

But as Kumar watched her form disappear into the depths, he failed to see her come back up.

Maybe she was just swimming underwater to get away from the crowd; but the awkward way she had fallen into the water troubled him. But what could he do? He couldn't swim. He figured he might be able to slink down the side of the pool, pushing himself down with his hands and then coming back up the same way. But it seemed unlikely that the girl was in any serious danger. Was it just his primitive masculine protectiveness coming out at an inopportune moment?

As the moments passed without the girl coming up for air, either in his vicinity or anywhere else in the pool, Kumar couldn't deal with the suspense anymore. He had to make sure she was okay.

As he slinked down the side of the pool, holding his breath, at first he saw nothing. Going down to the depth of six, then seven feet, he at last was able to get a look around. As he peered down to the bottom, his heart skipped a beat.

The girl was lying there on the floor of the pool, motionless.

A horrible croak came out of his throat. Throwing caution to the winds, he propelled himself as best he could to the recumbent form. In seconds he was directly over her. Suddenly he felt unnerved about touching her. She couldn't be dead, could she?

He overcame his fears and, with one arm, encircled her waist; with the other arm he scrabbled up the side of the pool, kicking his legs to shoot himself upward. The surface of the water seemed miles above him, but he persisted in a frenzy of self-preservation. Before he was fully aware of it, his head broke through to the open air, and instants later he had lifted the girl above the surface also.

Then he shouted at the top of his voice: "Help, please!"

He had now propped one elbow over the edge of the pool while he held the girl as best he could with his other arm. It took the people around him a few moments to realize that an emergency was in progress, but an elderly but vigorous man leaped up from a deck chair and seized the girl from Kumar's arm and dragged her out of the pool, letting her rest on her back on the wet tiles. Kumar himself struggled out of the pool and gazed down on the motionless figure.

She was not breathing.

"She—she hit her head and sank down!" he cried wildly to anyone who would listen. "Maybe she's . . ." He couldn't vocalize the thought. "We need to get help!"

A young waiter who had taken in the commotion all but dropped the tray he was carrying and rushed off—presumably to find a doctor or someone who could render aid. But as others stood around, stunned and confused, Kumar realized that his rescue mission wasn't over.

He knelt next to the girl and gave her face a few brisk slaps; but she remained unresponsive. He really had no idea how to bring her back to life. Should he give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? But what if her lungs were full of water?

Gingerly, and with a vestigial reluctance to violate the sanctity of her body, Kumar gently pressed the heel of his hand down the middle of the girl's chest, right where the skimpy bikini top separated one breast cup from the other. His tentative motion had no effect, so he repeated the act more vigorously.

After several tries, the girl's face suddenly contorted in a frown of pain, and then she coughed loudly, spitting out a substantial quantity of water.

Kumar let out an immense sigh of relief. Thank God she's alive! But his concern for her welfare was far from over. Someone had placed a towel under her head, and now Kumar reached behind her head and felt a smallish bump there. Fingering it delicately, he was dismayed when the girl said, "Ow!"

"Sorry," Kumar muttered. Then, more sharply: "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said weakly. "Wh-what happened?"

"You must have hit your head when you were diving in. You fell right to the bottom."

The girl's eyes widened in horror.

Then someone else, taking in the scene, cried, "This guy went down and got you! I don't even think he can swim!"

The girl looked alternately at the speaker and at Kumar. Fixing on him, she said, "You—you did?"

Kumar flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, it was nothing. Anybody would have done the same."

"And you can't swim?"

"No," Kumar admitted. "But it wasn't hard to pull you up—you're pretty light."

It was at this moment that an official-looking person, followed by the waiter who had apparently fetched him, showed up.

"What's going on here?" he said.

"It's nothing," Kumar said, wishing he were anywhere but here. "Everything's fine now. This girl—um, what's your name?"

"April," she mumbled.

"She had a little accident when going into the pool." Kumar was keen on not mentioning that she had dived in, even feet-first, as that was technically prohibited in the absence of a lifeguard. "I managed to get her out."

The man—who proved to be the ship's doctor—looked at Kumar, impressed. "She's damned lucky you were around."

"Really, it's nothing. I—"

By this time, April had sat up and was looking wide-eyed at Kumar. "Nothing? But you—you saved my life! I could have died!"

"Oh, I hardly think—"

"She's right about that," the doctor said. "Someone had to rescue her, and that person was you."

April was now so overwhelmed by her narrow escape from death that she burst into tears. And as Kumar was the nearest person to her—and was, in her mind, her savior—she flung her arms around his neck as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Kumar didn't have much choice except to wrap her arms around the stricken young woman. "There, there, it's all right, you're fine now."

The doctor interceded at this point. "We'd better check if she really is fine. She may have suffered a concussion."

All but prying April away from Kumar, the doctor administered some simple tests to see if she was indeed in good shape. After all, he was responsible for the welfare of the ship's passengers, and the last thing he wanted was a lawsuit for negligence on his hands.

But, although still tearful and with a frown of residual terror and self-pity on her face, April seemed more or less okay. Shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

"Okay, folks," the doctor said authoritatively, "the excitement's over. Give her some space." He waved his arms in an attempt to get the increasing number of fascinated spectators away from the girl and her rescuer. Turning his attention back to April, he said, "You'd best get some rest, young lady. You're not here alone, are you?"

"No," April said. "I'm here with my stepmom. But she's away shopping."

The doctor nodded. "Better get back to your room and lie down for a bit. You've had a bit of a scare."

"I'll say!" April said, shuddering.

Kumar stood up and urged April to do the same. "You can find your way back to your room?"

April eyed him with both shock and disappointment. "I—I don't want to be alone right now. This whole thing has been really upsetting. Can't you"—eyeing him pleadingly—"can't you come and keep me company for a bit?"

Kumar swallowed heavily. "Well, all right," he said grudgingly. God knows he wanted to spend as much time as possible with this beautiful creature, but his native prudence sent out all kinds of warning signs. "Just for a little while."

The pair walked away from the pool, facing the amazed, concerned, and sympathetic glances of the assembled crowd. April even took the liberty of gently taking Kumar by the hand, like a little girl leading her father away from a busy amusement park.

April's room was reached in a matter of minutes, and she opened it with her plastic key. It proved to be a surprisingly large room—almost a suite, with two queen-size beds, a desk, and a plate-glass door leading to the balcony. It was considerably larger than the tiny compartment that Kumar and his friend had reserved.

As she led her savior into the room and closed the door, April turned to face him. At first her gaze was almost expressionless. Then, her face crumpling in misery, she again flung her arms around him, holding him tight and pressing her entire body against his. She again lapsed into agonizing sobs.

Kumar was supremely uncomfortable. The awesome achievement of actually saving someone's life—if that is what he had actually done—was slowly dawning upon him; but so was the ambiguous nature of his sudden acquaintance with this gorgeous female. He had not been involved in a relationship in some months, and now he was faced with the task of comforting a potentially traumatized young woman in a way that he had never done before. But he knew there was a thin line between providing comfort and taking advantage of the situation for his own benefit; and so he returned April's embrace only tentatively, placing his hands on her wet back and waist but making sure not to venture anywhere close to the more forbidden parts of her body.

My God, what if she's underage? I know nothing about this woman (girl?) except that she's here with her stepmother. (No father in the picture?) I really shouldn't even be here—and I wouldn't be unless she had made such a fuss about not being left alone. Poor thing: I understand what she's gone through, but I have to be really careful.

But, to his discomfiture, his own body now betrayed him. He was getting rock hard.

It wasn't entirely clear that April noticed, because she continued to cling to him with her whole body, including her belly, where his erection was surely becoming evident to her.

So it was with a certain relief that she pulled away and backed off a few steps.

"I—I think we'd better get out of these wet clothes," she said, almost to herself. Walking over to the closet, she pulled the door open. "I think there are some robes in here."

She found them and tossed one casually to Kumar. "Why don't you dry yourself off and put this on? I'll get a towel from the bathroom." She opened the bathroom door, snatched up a towel from a rack, and flung it in Kumar's direction. Then, without a backward glance, she took another robe—it was made of thick terrycloth—and retreated into the bathroom, closing the door firmly.

Kumar was now in an even greater state of distress and confusion. Here I am, in a room occupied by two women—and I'm expected to strip naked, dry myself off, and then cover my nudity with this robe? But what other option is there?

And so he peeled off his wet swimming trunks. He did his best not to look at himself in a mirror that was hanging on a nearby wall, right next to the bathroom—a mirror that showed the alarming erection he was sporting, to the point that his member was actually quivering. It's easy to get an erection—not so easy to get it to go away.

He toweled himself off vigorously, then quickly put on the robe. The sash really didn't close up the robe all that well, but he did the best he could.

And then he waited for April to emerge.

She seemed to be taking a long time, and Kumar did his best not to envision her taking off her bikini top, then her bikini bottom, then using a towel to dry off what water remained on her body from the pool, and then at last putting her robe on. When he heard a sound that could only be a blow-dryer, he realized she was making the effort to dry her hair—something he had only done hastily and incompletely with the towel she had provided.

After what seemed like an infinity, the door to the bathroom at last opened.

April was standing there. She was naked.

It was obvious that she had dabbed her face expertly with some cosmetics, as her lips glistened with scarlet lipstick, and there was some trace of rouge on her cheeks. Her hair looked professionally coiffed, framing her oval face like a golden helmet. But Kumar—to his own shame—had eyes less for these parts of her body than for certain other parts. How could he not? Those large, firm, luscious breasts, their pink nipples already erect; the generous swell of her hips; the heart-stopping curve of her bottom; the strong, muscular thighs leading to tapered calves and delicate feet.

And, most compelling of all, the extraordinarily thick carpet of dark, curly hair covering her delta.

Kumar's mouth dropped. What is this girl trying to do to me? Is this a dream? Am I really here? But he knew it was no dream—and he knew also that any attempt to escape from this siren's seductive wiles would be futile.

She herself initially looked boldly into Kumar's eyes, then demurely turned her gaze away. Approaching him tentatively, she went up to him and, standing on tiptoe (for she was at most about five feet five inches tall), gave him a surprisingly chaste kiss on the mouth. She seemed to like the contact of his soft lips on hers, for she broke into a girlish smile.

But the smile faded quickly, and she looked straight at his chest with a strangely pensive air. Hands shaking slightly, she reached out and took the lapels of the robe and parted them slightly to reveal part of his chest, covered with a fine black down. She kissed the very center of his chest, between his strong pectorals, and then peeled back the robe to give each of his hard nipples a little peck.

Then she untied the sloppy knot that Kumar had used to fasten the robe. Parting it, she slipped it off of his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

Now they were both naked.

April looked up at Kumar with an expression that mingled desire, excitement, and just a faint trace of apprehension. Then she fell to her knees.

His engorged cock almost hit her in the face as she did that. And it was the work of moments for her to take it in her hands and place it in her mouth.

Kumar looked down at the spectacle with both horror and desire. Why am I letting this happen? I have to put a stop to this! This isn't right! I've known this woman for all of about fifteen minutes—and here she is, performing an intimate act that will no doubt lead to further intimate acts. At a minimum, he reflected, there was the danger of that nameless stepmother waltzing into the room at any moment.