Daisy's Resort Pt. 01

Daisy and I had been on again, off again, friends with benefits since college. It was never anything serious, we lacked the chemistry to make a real relationship work, but I considered her one of my best and oldest friends. We'd always been there for each other, especially when the both of us were between relationships, and we'd always be there for each other.

Daisy was a serious wild child in college, and that's one of the things I loved about her then. Smart, confident, incredibly adventurous, and always insistent on her needs being met. She had one of the keenest senses for bullshit and risk I'd ever seen, and for everything she did -- threesomes, gang bangs, adult theaters and glory holes, orgies, BDSM; if you can name it, she's probably done it -- I don't think I can remember a single pregnancy or STD scare, or evening gone wrong. It was almost supernatural.

She calmed down in her late twenties, when she somehow found herself in a serious, long term, monogamous relationship which resulted in a ten-year marriage with no kids. Of all ironies, the split-up was because he had been cheating on her. Apparently, her ex-husband felt self-conscious about her past and constrained in their sex life, and instead of talking through it started an affair. In Daisy's words, "he could have just brought her home for a threesome, and everyone would have been happy"...that was just Daisy's sense of humor for you.

We didn't talk much while she was married: occasional texting, a monthly coffee or dinner, a day out once or twice a year. Her career and marriage came first. But since the split-up, we'd been hanging out more and spent the night together regularly. I hated the circumstances, but it was great having my old friend back, even though she was still in the process of grieving and healing, and it seemed like the old wildness which I loved was long gone.

At least, until I got the text at work Thursday.

"Signed the divorce papers today," it read, "whatever you're doing this weekend, cancel it."

I replied. "It's good to hear it's final, but I'm still sorry you had to go through it. I didn't have any plans anyways. What did you have in mind?"

"I need to blow off steam and we're getting out of town. All expenses paid care of Shithead. Check it out." Shithead was what she'd taken to calling her ex-, and I couldn't say I blamed her.

The next thing she texted, was a link to a resort I'd never heard of: Suadela Cove. It was on a lake surrounded by forest about six hours' drive south, and based on the pictures it was very picturesque, with a private beach, impressive amenity suite, rustic-styled decoration, and lakeside cabin accommodations.

And it was a clothing-optional swingers' retreat. My jaw dropped reading the schedule of daytime activities and nighttime events, even college-age wild child Daisy would have openly balked at this. I didn't even know a place like Suadela Cove was even legal.

My gut reaction was "hell yeah!", but consideration for Daisy and her emotional state won the conflict between upper and lower head. "Are you sure?" I asked. "This seems like an awful lot so soon."

A few minutes passed before her next text. "Trust me, I'm not just lashing out or overreacting. I've wanted to do a trip like this for a long time, even before the split up. I miss the old me and with the divorce over it's time to reconnect. I'm going with or without you, but I'd prefer you there."

"As long as you're sure," I responded. "Sounds like fun. What should I bring?"

Her reply came quickly. "Clothes for the trip there and back, toiletries. Benefits of a nudist resort :)" I couldn't argue with her there. A quick follow-up text said, "I'm bringing my toy bag."

From there, we made the travel arrangements. There was a newcomer and introduction party Daisy wanted to go to Friday night, so we agreed to work half days on Friday and meet up at one. She insisted on driving, not flying, so she'd already rented an electric car; it meant we'd have to stop and charge halfway, which worked perfectly since we could eat and refresh ourselves. She'd drive the first half of the way, I'd drive the second half, and we'd be there in time to check in and clean up before this party.

Preparing for the spontaneous (to me) trip was easy enough, I went to bed and work the next day, and she was a little late to pick me up at my apartment. I noticed she was in rare form as soon as I opened the passenger door of her rental and tossed my overnight bag in the backseat.

Daisy was a little taller than average -- about 5'6" if I had to guess -- and always had a slight frame. She did yoga for as long as I remember, and recently got into the "women who lift" trend combined with a better diet, to fill out and define her shape in a way she never had in college. When we met she was lucky to fill a B-cup bra, but between age, better-balanced diet, and her lifting, she now had lovely, perky, C-cup breasts. She always had a cute, round butt and nicely-toned thighs, which looked fantastic in yoga pants with the tiniest bit of thigh gap.

She was naturally dirty blonde but favored highlights, and always kept her hair shoulder-length and done in convenient, modest styles. She was never a fan of heavy makeup, and usually kept herself done in earthier, more natural, tones that accentuated her brown eyes and modestly-plump lips. She had a slightly long face, strong cheekbones and chin, almond eyes, and slightly aquiline nose that gave her a vaguely Mediterranean appearance to match her light olive skin.

You never would have guessed Daisy was in her late thirties by looking at her. The structure of her face and body made it clear she was mature, but the care she took of herself gave her the appearance of someone no older than their early thirties.

But, her clothing...or rather, lack of it...told me everything I needed to know about her mood. She wore an ivory-colored, crochet, beach cover that was a dress in name only, and barely covered her groin as she sat. The only thing under her dress was a matching crochet microkini bottom, the presence of which I could only tell by the string tied around her hip. Sandals to match, and her usual array of bracelets, necklaces, rings, and anklets.

She smiled at me behind round large-frame sunglasses, and said, "get in already, we're running late". I couldn't help but notice the seat belt between her breasts held the cover down, making her nipples poke visibly through the crochetwork. Exhibition came as naturally as breathing to Daisy, but I hadn't seen this level of it since our college days. I'll admit it was thrilling to see, and put real promise behind whatever hedonistic shenanigans she had planned for us this weekend.

I sat and shut the car door, and Daisy unbuckled her seat belt long enough to give me a long, warm, hug and a kiss, before we were on our way. The first half of our drive was incredibly pleasant, once we were on the highway Daisy put the car on autopilot and we spent the way talking about our work weeks, reminiscing about our college days, and finally talking about her divorce and what its finalization meant for her.

Over the long conversation, she elaborated on her text: part of her always missed her wild and libertine life before marriage, and moving towards their tenth anniversary she began to feel constrained, too. She didn't want a return to those days, but she did want to spice up her sex life. Her ex-husband apparently felt self-conscious about it, and wasn't receptive. Communication broke down, and he had his affair, probably a preemptive measure out of insecurity about her fidelity.

But now with her ex-husband out of the picture, no kids, and approaching forty, Daisy was over missing her past and potentially living with regrets. It was her time, and she wasn't going to hold herself back for the sake of anyone else, any more. Spending the weekend at a swinger's resort hopefully getting her brains fucked out in every way imaginable, was her gift to herself and her way of reconnecting with her slutty past. Especially with one of her oldest friends along for the ride, who knew her best and knew most of her dirtiest secrets...hell, who'd participated in a lot of them.

The conversation weighed in my mind as we hit the halfway point, and pulled into the charging station. I'd known Daisy a long time, long enough to trust this wasn't a matter of denial, regression, guilt, or grief, and that she was just trying to build a new normal for herself that combined the best of who she was back then, and the best of who she'd become since. It just felt odd being on the road with her, like we were going to spring break or some huge sex party hundreds of miles away to maintain anonymity.

Maybe it was just me. I wasn't the person who I used to be, and I'd left that life behind a long time ago. Daisy handed me the charge card that came with the car, I got out, and started charging. She got out of the car and stretched, showing off her practically nude body to the public without a care in the world. I finally got a decent look at the microkini bottom under her cover, which had a G-string back and barely enough material to cover her clit and inner labia; her camel toe was proudly on display between her thighs for anyone lucky enough to get a close look, and it was plain for all to see she was completely bare downstairs.

"You could get us arrested for that," I said, half-jokingly.

"Isn't that part of the fun?", she replied, with a tinge of boredom to her voice and a half-smile. I looked around, noticing the only people around weren't close enough to get a good look and notice Daisy was practically naked. I knew her well enough to know that, to her, this was just getting out of a car for a stretch. For it to be remotely interesting to her, there'd have to be a chance of getting noticed or caught.

"I could yell at some people to come over if you want."

Daisy laughed and leaned back against the car, her nipples poking out of the cover again. "No...not yet anyway," she said with a glance up to the charging station's canopy. It was warm and humid enough outside, even in the shade, to find my cargo shorts and polo top a bit stifling, and I wondered if Daisy might have the right idea being mostly naked.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, and I said, "hey, I was thinking about this trip, and..."

"Do you want to get together?" Daisy asked bluntly, staring right at me. For a moment, I wasn't sure what to think. I opened my mouth and tilted my head a bit in shock. I thought about it for a moment, and it made sense.

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Okay," Daisy nodded and smiled. "I was going to ask some time this weekend...but fuck it. Might as well get it out now, so there's no miscommunication or misunderstood expectations later."

"Thanks for that". I suppose it would have been awkward for Daisy to ask after I spent the weekend watching her suck every dick at the resort.

"Don't get me wrong," Daisy said, "I'm still sucking every dick at the resort." I couldn't help but laugh. She dug a slightly more modest cover out of her own overnight bag -- enough to not get us kicked out of a restaurant or arrested, barely -- and changed right at the charging station, before we walked to a nearby restaurant to eat.

She drew plenty of looks, good and bad, from the other restaurant patrons while we ate. By the time we were done eating the rental was charged, and we were back on the road with me behind the wheel.

"Finally!" she exclaimed with glee. She took her sandals off, pulled her cover over her head, and untied the microkini bottom. She tossed it all on the floorboard by her feet, and reclined in the car completely naked with her hands behind her head. "I'm not putting a stitch of clothing back on for two entire days!"

I laughed, glancing side-eyed at her toned, naked body. "Unless we get pulled over," I said.

"I'll blow the cop to get out of the ticket," she said back to me, with a huge grin. There was a slight chance she was joking.

"Behave, we're not even close to the resort yet."

She propped a foot up on the dashboard, showing off her bare pussy. "That doesn't mean I can't have fun along the way," she said. Daisy always loved flashing other drivers on the road, and she gleefully did it for the next part of the trip, rolling down her window, waving, shouting, and playing with her tits as cars went by. Getting the looks, honks, catcalls, and brief flirtations thrilled her, and it was exciting to watch Daisy in her natural habitat.

It wasn't long before Daisy begun to slowly and gently touch her thighs and pussy between flashes. I turned off the car radio to listen to her quiet sighs and moans, and put on autopilot to get a better sight of her show. She'd keep herself occupied the rest of the trip like this, not once building herself to the point of orgasm; she was always a fan of the slow tease, riding the slowly building wave of sexual pleasure, and pushing sexual tension to the breaking point.

I was already horny from having been in the car with her half-naked for so long, so I reached over and brushed her thigh as an invitation to play. She looked over with a half-lidded, breathy, "yes", and I slid my fingers between her slick thighs. I've known what she liked and exactly how to touch her for years, and effortlessly found the spot by her clit that set her body on fire. She gasped and arched her back, and I took over playing with her pussy, edging her over and again, while she focused on playing with her tits and flashing the other cars.

She reached over and felt my cock through my pants. I was hard, throbbing, and had been leaking precum for hours at that point. I already knew what was coming; I tilted the steering wheel up and slid the seat back, enabled by the car's autopilot function, to allow her to lean across and pull down my shorts.

My hard, leaking cock sprang free, she put her head in my lap, and I immediately felt the warm, wet, and inviting sensations of her lips and tongue on my cock and balls. She moaned quietly and teased my balls, slipping her fingers below to massage my perineum, as she lapped up the precum which oozed and pulsed from my cock with the tiniest of licks and kisses.

The taste of precum was one of Daisy's favorites, and she could spend literal hours savoring it and teasing cocks just to have more; once, she tied me up and done just that, before finally riding my cock to one of the most intense and explosive orgasms I ever had. And, left to her own devices, she could keep her head in my lap the rest of the trip and been perfectly happy. But as it was, after a few precious minutes she decided it was her turn to have some fun, and pulled her head back up and returned to flashing other cars while I edged her.

The rest of the ride alternated between Daisy being edged and giving me road head, until we left the interstate and entered winding forest roads. From there the drive was trickier, and I needed to concentrate; Daisy sat patiently in the passenger seat, watching the scenery pass with only the occasional self-touch. Daisy pointed out the resort's front office, which was by a gate with a privacy fence that extended into the forest in both directions, and I parked. I checked the time, and while it was a little later than we'd planned to get here, we still had plenty of time to check in and get acclimated before this party of Daisy's.

"The fence goes all the way around to the lake on both sides, it's clothing-optional past there," Daisy said, unbuckling her seat belt and stretching, slipping on her sandals. "But...it's also nice and private here, the owners apparently don't mind if visitors show up already in the buff." She opened the door, grabbed her purse, and stepped out nude except her sandals and jewelry, stretching and yawning, enjoying the warm and humid country air.

I wasn't in the mood to strip just yet, so I pulled up my shorts, got out of the car, and walked into the office with Daisy. The office's air conditioning was more than welcome, but other than a bowl of assorted condoms on a stand, the office was completely indistinct from any other hotel or resort. Daisy stepped up to the front desk, and rung the bell.

A young woman no older than her mid-twenties stepped out of the back office, carrying a tablet. She was about average height, waifish, and wearing a black string bikini top with short jean shorts, thigh-high stockings, and black leather boots. Her dyed-black hair was up in a bun, with even, retro-style, bangs. Her nostrils, septum, and lower lip were pierced, with stretched earlobes, and she was covered with tattoos. Her jewelry matched her goth-rockabilly appearance, and she gave Daisy an appreciative once-over before smiling at us both.

"Hi, I'm River and welcome to Suadela. Do you have a reservation?" she asked. Daisy spoke up, "yes," fishing in her purse for her photo ID and debit card. I handed mine to the girl -- River -- as well, and she entered the information into the tablet, taking photographs of each ID card.

"It looks like you're in...49. Nice," River added. Daisy turned towards me.

"The cabins are split up into two groups, one by the lakeside and the other in a big roundabout with the pool, outdoor bar, and dancing floor in the middle. They call it Voyeur Village...you'll see why. Our cabin is right by the entrance to the roundabout," Daisy explained. She turned back to river and asked, "how busy is it going to be this weekend?"

"Pretty busy," River said. "It's not a holiday weekend or special event, we're not at capacity, but close." She turned to the board where the cabin keys were kept, and grabbed two sets with a fob numbered 49. She placed them on the desk, setting the tablet next to them with a form loaded.

"Liability waver," she said. "We're not responsible for accidents, you pay for damages you incur, you agree anything that happens on premises is an entirely consensual agreement between two private persons and we aren't responsible for lapses of judgment or consent violation, no money will be exchanged for sexual services on premises, you agree that you've been recently tested negative for sexually-transmitted diseases and we're not at fault for STI transmission...yadda, yadda. Usual stuff," she finished.

Daisy and I took our times reading it over, and signed. River slid the keys to us, and we each took a set. River smiled at us again, giving Daisy another once-over. Daisy smiled back, and I could swear I saw her winking.

"Great, let me just open the gate so you can drive through. Just follow the signs, and leave your car parked in your numbered spot. Your key fob has an RFID for dinner, drinks, and other amenities not included in your guest package. It gets added to your bill automatically; we're cashless, and tipping is strictly prohibited. It keeps us from having legal problems.

This really shouldn't have to be said, but please don't proposition or harass staff while they're working. We're not really supposed to fuck around with guests, but in a place like this, it happens and there's no point denying it. If we're off the clock it's our business, but usually if we're interested we're the ones letting you know. The newcomer party starts at nine," River said, finishing her spiel. Thanking her, Daisy and I went back to the rental, and drove through the open gate.

A couple turns and a side road I assumed to go to the RV area based on the signs that said "RV Area" later, I saw the resort before me: the lake and lakeside cabins to the right and a small sporting area next to it; a two-story building with glass panels for walls and a small parking lot for day-trippers, which from the exterior looked like a dining area and dance hall, with a large canopied patio and hot tub attached; further down the road and up a slight incline, appeared to be a wide circle of cabins. Walking around here and there, I saw men and women of every age from college to retirement in various states of undress, lounging, talking, and playing various games.