Dear Abby's Vacay

"We're going to take a little break, Abby," Mort said. "Let's get out and stretch our legs."

"Is the driver going to wait for us?" I asked.

"Of course," Mort said. He said something in perfect Spanish and the driver stepped out of the taxi and walked to a nearby treeline, presumably to relieve himself.

"You must be warm in those clothes," Mort said. "Feel like changing into something more comfortable?"

"Right here?" I asked. Then, I looked around and realized we literally had a tropical jungle to our right, an ocean to our left, and no other cars or people in either direction for as far as the eye could see. Other than the taxi driver, and a few unseen wild animals, there was no one else around. "Okay. Maybe you should change, too?"

"I intend to," Mort smiled and brought me to the trunk of the taxi.

I had no idea what was in my luggage. The wheeled carry-on he handed to me at the airport could have been filled with drugs, and I wouldn't have known until it was too late. When I unzipped the clam shell, there was an assortment of shampoos, creams, lubricant, Imodium, a little make-up compact, a pair of cute sandals, a few wraps, a see-through dress, a few brightly colored bikinis, and an assortment of jewelry which included, of all things, gold barbells for my pierced nipples, and a rather large jeweled butt pug. I could only imagine what the X-ray technicians at the airport thought of me.

I picked an orange crochet bikini out of the case, a wrap to go around my waist, and the sandals, and then unbuttoned my blouse. My nipples actually felt naked during our journey, but Mort recommended I leave my jewelry at home so as not to trigger the metal detectors. I wore my wedding ring, though.

I couldn't see the taxi driver anywhere, but imagined he was watching us and masturbating like Mr. Barker's hospital roommate. I quickly undressed.

I sniffed and then licked the bulb of the butt plug covering it with saliva, spread my cheeks, and then carefully inserted it as if I had done it a hundred times. I relaxed as the large, sparkly toy comfortably nestled between my pretty butt cheeks, and then I examined the bikini.

The perforated bikini bottom left nothing to the imagination. One string of soft material went up my butt crack, attached to a string that stretched out to each side. A tiny, front triangle patch attached to the string at the bottom, each side of the triangle was barely three inches long, and the top corners of that patch attached to another string that stretched out to each side. I tied the front and back strings to their respective sides and it felt like was wearing nothing at all. I wondered how it would even stay on my hips. After inserting the barbells, I put on the equally tiny bikini top. Like the bottom triangle that would have done nothing to cover my pubic hair if I had any, the triangles that covered my nipples barely covered my small, pink areola. The ends of the gold barbells poked through the holes of the knitted material, revealing the piercings in the sunlight. I stepped into my new sandals, and wrapped the semi-transparent fabric around my waist.

Mort looked me over, and nodded his approval. He handed me a pair of sunglasses from his luggage, and then changed into his own sandals, khaki shorts, and a loose-fitting collared white shirt. His cock was semi-erect, and I frowned when he pulled his shorts up.

He could see the disappointment on my face.

"Did you want to do something right now?" Mort asked.

"Don't you?" I asked, enjoying the breeze through the perforations of the micro bikini.

Before answering, Mort just smiled and packed our heavier clothes in our luggage, and then closed the trunk to the taxi. The noise signaled the driver that we had finished changing, and were ready to continue.

The driver said something in Spanish, and motioned toward me.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He asked if you were my daughter," Mort said. "I told him, no."

The driver said something again.

"Now, he wants to know if you're my sister," Mort said.

"And what are you going to tell him?" I asked.

"What do you want me to tell him?" Mort asked in return.

"If you tell him no, then what?" I asked.

"Then, he's going to ogle at you disrespectfully," Mort said with a grin.

"Tell him whatever you want, then," I said.

Mort said something in Spanish, and the driver smiled, quickly opening the back taxi door for us.

"What did you tell him?" I asked.

"I told him he could do more than ogle at you in a bathing suit if he behaved himself," Mort said, and then leaned over to give me a long kiss.

As the taxi sped down the dirt road toward our destination, Mort pulled the crotch of my bikini bottom to the side and inserted two fingers. Neither of us were surprised at how wet I was.

The taxi driver looked in the rear view mirror in time to catch me gasp as Mort teased my swollen clit. I locked eyes with the driver, and hoped he wouldn't kill us by driving off the road.

Mort said something to the driver, who then kept his eyes on the road until we finally reached our destination twenty minutes later. I was so close to coming, I was panting when the taxi rolled to a stop.

It had been about two hours from the time we landed when Mort finally said, "We're here!"

Just a little frustrated, I adjusted my bikini bottom and followed Mort out of the taxi.

The taxi driver said something to Mort, and Mort interpreted for me.

"He said he'll cut the fare in half if he's allowed to put suntan oil on you," Mort said with raised eyebrows. "Do you mind?"

"Really? Just oil me up?" I asked. I looked around, but I didn't see any guests wandering about. The overhang the taxi parked under shielded us from the intense sun, and seemed to be attached to a three-story mansion, not a resort hotel. Instead of windows or doors on the upper floors, there were huge openings, as if they weren't worried about the wind, rain, or wildlife getting in. Either that, or they hadn't finished building the place. I started to get worried that Mort brought me to an abandoned old mansion, when I spotted what looked like a butler or concierge in a white suit wheeling an ornate meal tray out onto one of the second floor balconies. If they had room service, I decided it couldn't be all that bad.

Mort huffed with a smile. "He's obviously going to feel you up, but you won't mind, will you?"

"I suppose not, if you're okay with it," I said.

"I'm okay with it, Abby," Mort said. "I want you to enjoy yourself at my humble abode."

"What do you mean, 'your' humble abode?" I asked.

"This is my estate. Think of it as an exotic bed and breakfast for like-minded, consenting adults."

"This is all yours?" I asked, wondering why he was spending almost every Friday in a dive bar with a handful of patrons. "If you can afford all this, you could have any woman you wanted, any day of the week. Why the bar?"

"I can, and I do. The bar is just one of many places I visit when the opportunity presents itself," Mort answered.

"You intrigue me, Abby," Mort added. "So, I made a habit of coming back whenever I knew you'd be there."

"But, I thought you were just a bartender or custodian," I asked.

"Someone has to serve the drinks and keep the place clean," Mort laughed and waited for the taxi driver to pull our luggage from the trunk, and then handed him a bottle of water. The driver used the water to wash his hands as best he could, and then Mort handed him the bottle of tanning oil.

During the weeks that I was patiently waiting to hear back from Mort, I spent a little more time at the gym, and ended up adding about five pounds of muscle in all the right places. My abs were tighter than they'd ever been, as were my butt, thighs, and calves. I wasn't quite to the point of having veins popping out all over the place, and hoped I'd never get there. I wanted to keep the boobs I had, too, so I added a few pounds on top of that muscle to smooth things out. I'd probably never have enough on top for a titty-fuck like my mom had undoubtedly enjoyed, but I had enough to almost fill a B cup bra on a good day, which plenty of men still found attractive, especially with the pierced nipples.

Ron seemed to think my 5'2" frame looked even sexier approaching 115 pounds, and I had to agree with him. With all my clothes on, nobody else really noticed. In a barely-there crochet micro-bikini, I certainly noticed. The bright orange suit on my lightly tanned skin really stood out, and I wondered how much more it would pop once I tanned a bit darker.

"Right here?" I asked.

"If you don't mind," Mort answered. "He has to head back to the airport, soon."

Mort said something to the driver in Spanish, and the driver immediately splashed oil in his hands and placed them on my arms, carefully massaging the oil over them. He was thorough, but his hands didn't stay in one place any longer than necessary. The driver's fingers slipped under the fabric of the bikini top and paused for only a second on my pierced nipples which hardened with his touch. He said something under his breath, and proceeded to move onto the rest of my body.

I removed my wrap, and stepped out of my sandals so he could do my feet, and then stepped back into them as he worked his way up my legs. When his fingers slipped under the tiny patch of fabric covering my pussy, my clit was already swollen, making it impossible for him to not notice how aroused I was. His fingers gently brushed over my sex, sending a shiver through my body. The driver noticed, and so did Mort.

"Feel good?" Mort asked.

"I hope you plan on fucking me, soon," I said, not caring if the taxi driver understood what I said.

"Would you like to let our taxi driver friend fuck you?" Mort asked, taking me by complete surprise.

"I thought this was our time to be together," I said, as the taxi driver massaged the oil onto my cheeks and around my butt plug.

"Oh, it is, Abby," Mort said. "We're going to have plenty of time together over the next few days, trust me. But, you're not the only woman I will be with, and I'm sure I'm not the only man you will be with."

"What?" I asked. "I don't understand, I thought..."

"You thought this was a little getaway for just the two of us?" Mort asked.

"Well, yes," I said, as the taxi driver gently placed his hand between my legs from behind so his thumb pressed on my butt plug and then slid two fingers inside my pussy.

"But... I barely know him," I said, looking into Mort's eyes. I reached back to pull the driver's hand away, but found myself holding it in place. His fingers felt good inside me.

"I know him," Mort said. "He's okay."

"As in, clean okay?" I asked. "I'm not trying to be judgmental, but a girl has standards."

"Of course," Mort said. "I know him and his family. He's a good kid."

"Kid?" I asked.

"He turned nineteen a few weeks ago," Mort said. "I believe you would be his first."

"Well, is this where he wants to lose his virginity?" I asked. "Up against a taxi?"

"I can think of worse places," Mort smiled. "But, we can go inside, if you prefer."

"I prefer," I said.

Mort and the taxi driver exchanged a few words in Spanish before the driver removed his hand, and reached for our luggage.

"What about getting back to the airport?" I asked.

"If you were him, wouldn't you risk getting fired for a chance to get in that beautiful, little pussy of yours?" Mort smiled. He knew all the right things to say.

Once inside the large, ornate building, we were greeted by several couples. The women were similarly dressed as me, but more full-figured, which made their micro bikinis look even smaller on them. The men wore loose-fitting linen pants and shirts, some obviously not wearing underwear under the nearly see-through fabric. All of the men also had an air of success around them. Wealthy. Confident. Well-endowed. Despite being a little too shiny from the suntan oil, I think I still looked good enough to fit in with them.

A manservant - as Mort referred to him - took our luggage and we continued to walk through the main floor to the other side of the building. We stepped out to a beautiful patio surrounding an immense pool and several below-ground hot tubs. Mort introduced me to several men and women, some singles, some couples, and I did my best to remember the names of the more attractive men. Beyond the pool were several little tent-like domes with their openings facing away from the pool, and toward a beautiful view of the ocean. Mort guided me to one of the domes, and the taxi driver eagerly followed.

The cabanas looked like large, framed igloos, built more for privacy than protection. Several iron bars curved up from the ground to the ceiling, meeting at a circle in the middle. The outer walls were made of heavy, white canvas and covered about two thirds of the structure, leaving the last third completely open to view the wide open water. The canvas laced over the bars at the seams, allowing airflow, and the occasional glimpse inside by passersby. Inside, there was a cushioned futon that could be dropped into a bed, and two padded lounge chairs which could be pulled out for some sunning or left inside as massage tables. There were also two cushioned chairs, a small table, a fully-stocked bar, a linen cabinet holding a dozen or so towels, and an indoor, no-walls or curtains shower. Everything looked clean and well-maintained. I felt better, already.

"Abby, we have only a few house rules," Mort said. "For the most part, anything goes, so you may see people engaging in a variety of sexual activities. However, laying out around the pool means 'look, but don't touch.' Occasionally, an airplane or helicopter will fly overhead, and I prefer to keep our activities as private as possible. Sunbathing is one thing, but some people would prefer to keep their other activities private. So, if you're at the pool or hot tubs during the day, refrain from anything that might result in an orgasm, if possible.

Once you move to the cover of one of these little cabanas, it's a different story. Also, anywhere inside the manor is open to whatever tickles your fancy. While most guests keep to their rooms or the cabanas, we will occasionally be privy to copulation of one form or another at the breakfast or dinner table."

"How many guests do you host at a time?" I asked, only seeing six or seven other people sunning themselves around the pool.

"We can host up to thirty, but we should only have around a dozen or so by this evening," Mort answered, taking off his shirt and draping it across a chair. His chest looked even better than I had remembered. "Several couples, a few single gentlemen, and a few single ladies such as yourself."

I flashed my ring. "I'm not single, though," I said.

"You are while you're here, Abby," Mort said. "Single, ready, willing, and able as far as I'm concerned."

Mort stepped out of his sandals and pulled off his shorts, honoring me with his impressive hard-on. I wanted to feel him inside me, badly, but I knew that probably wouldn't happen until after taking care of our young friend.

"Does the taxi driver have a name?" I asked.

"Palo," the taxi driver said. He took my hand and kissed my knuckle. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Abby."

"It's just Abby," I said, confused. "You speak English?"

"Si," Palo said. "I mean, yes, Abby."

"And, you've never been with a woman, Palo?" I asked, untying my bikini top and tossing it onto the futon.

"Only my cousin..." Palo started. "She taught me how to kiss, but that was it."

"How did you know to press on my butt plug and put your fingers inside me?" I asked.

"Senior Mort told me to," Palo said. "He said you would like it."

I looked at Mort with a tilted head.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Mort smiled. He motioned Palo to move closer to me.

I untied my bikini bottom, stepped out of my sandals, and let Palo look me over. His mouth was practically watering.

"Your turn, Palo," I said, and helped him pull his shirt off. He was unexpectedly chiseled, complete with hard pectorals and a ripped six-pack.

"Oh, Palo... you are in really good shape, aren't you?" I asked, stepping closer to him and hooking my thumbs in the sides of his shorts. I squatted in front of him as I pulled down his shorts and underwear, and was hit in the chin by Palo's handsome cock.

"Palo... you have a very attractive cock. You're going to make a lot of women happy with this," I said, taking the head of his shaft in my mouth. I really thought he was going to come within seconds, but instead, he just stood motionless while I bobbed my head on his shaft.

"Oh, thank you Miss Abby," Palo said. "That feels very nice."

I thought what I was doing should have felt better than 'nice' but maybe something was lost in translation. I stopped sucking Palo and stood up, and he didn't look at all disappointed. I sat back on one of the cabana lounge chairs, leaned back and spread my legs. Palo took the hint and buried his face in my pussy. He obviously never licked pussy before, but Mort said a few things to him, and Palo instantly started improving. I locked eyes with Mort as Palo licked and fingered me for all he was worth. I briefly wondered if Linda felt as empowered with Jean's son, Michael.

Before I could come, though, I stopped Palo and moved onto the opened futon.

"Lay down, Palo," I said.

He did, and I straddled him. I kissed him on the mouth, and he kissed me back - almost as well as Mort.

I broke our kiss and said, "Your cousin must be one hell of a kisser," before locking lips and exploring tongues again. I reached between my legs and guided his slick dick to my pussy. Palo froze as I lowered myself onto him, and I kissed him again.

"That's it," I said. "Go slow at first, okay?"

Palo nodded.

He felt good inside me, and I started to wonder who might come first. I rode him for several minutes, when Mort said something to Palo that broke our rhythm.

I looked at Mort, and he mouthed the words "Just go with it."

So, I did.

Palo got out from underneath me, and turned me so he could fuck me missionary, then doggy, and then with me sitting on his lap facing Mort. He was checking the blocks on a variety of sexual positions. I thought he would have come right away, but I couldn't have been more wrong. We fucked for almost thirty minutes when he finally began panting, sounding like he was about to cry.

I pulled myself off his very enjoyable eight inch shaft and dropped to my knees between his legs.

Mort said something to the effect of "fuck her face" in Spanish, and Palo held the back of my head as I took him down my throat. It still took another minute of my oral talents and pressing my fingers on his butt hole before he climaxed, but it was worth the wait. Palo's legs shook as he let loose down my throat, and he held my head down on him firmly, wrapping his fingers around my ponytail. I barely had the chance to taste his semen as he spasmed past my tongue. I let him hold my head down, with my nose pressed against his short, soft pubic hair, until his cock slowly deflated.

Mort said something, and Palo released my ponytail, letting me breath normally again, but not without my burping first. I giggled, and then Palo giggled. He was cute.

"Thank you for taking me... around the Earth, Miss Abby." Palo said.

"You're welcome Palo," I said, so close to coming, I could barely stand it. "But, I thought 'around the world' meant every position, right?" I asked Mort.

"My apologies, Palo," Mort said in Spanish. "It would seem I forgot what some modern women also enjoy. Would you mind waiting a moment? Abby will be ready for you again, once you regain your erection."

Palo nodded at Mort, and then stepped out of the way.

Mort didn't have to tell me to take his cock in my mouth. The act was as natural to me as crossing my legs when sitting in a chair.