tagExhibitionist & VoyeurGet Out of Jail Free Card

Get Out of Jail Free Card


Early morning on March 31 and Clare was not the only person in the magnificent resort swimming area. While running miles in the morning, she had seen the interlocking pools from Olympic length to wading pools, hot tubs to diving pools, all separated by rectangular marble columns about eight feet high and concrete aprons holding the chairs, lounges, tables and sun-bathers. Occasionally, Clare snuck in to complete a mile of swimming before the paying guests were awake to complain about a trespasser.

She saw a blond surrounded by four well-developed men in small swim trunks. She held court with a long cigarette holder in her hand and a floppy straw hat on her head. The woman had generous curves but a stingy waist, her glowing rich tan on display under a dark bikini and even darker sunglasses. The four men were at each point of the compass around her. She had to twist to address each in turn, a maneuver that challenged the elastic capacity of her swim suit.

Clare was still recovering from the brutal rejection of her longtime boyfriend. He no longer loved her. He found her too skinny. He didn't say so, but Clare knew he wanted a woman with substantial breasts, wide hips, and a fleshy behind. Not a wisp of smoke like Clare. His rejection was the reason Clare had cut her rich dark hair short, had begun to run and to swim. Her figure had improved, but no one told her so. So she continued to exercise to lose the person she had been.

Clare noticed a maid who swooped to the table and chairs behind those five people. With a swift arm motion, she picked up a cell phone, an entry key and a small wallet, and concealed them in a tote she carried on her wrist. She swiftly headed for the gated entrance to the garden, unnoticed by her victim.

Clare pushed off from the wall and churned across the pool. Her powerful kicks attracted the notice of the five who watched as she plowed the water. Her long, thin leg came out of the water and she pushed herself into a standing position and began to run. Her skin-tight one-piece suit rose high at the hips. She ran with the grace and speed of a cheetah, her long legs fully extended. As she ran, her suit rode up the crack in her ass. She didn't stop although she knew that her velocity and her partial nudity drew every eye in the area.

Before the maid could open the metal gate, Clare caught her and grabbed the small bag. The maid wrenched back ferociously, but Clare held on. The maid used her free arm to scratch Clare's face but Clare held on. The woman grabbed the strap over Clare's shoulder and pulled until it ripped off her left breast. Clare's breast was nicely formed but small, and she was often embarrassed by their size. Not today, though. She thought only of preventing the theft. The maid spat at Clare, hitting her in the face, then surrendered her bag. Cursing, she escaped through the gate.

An wrinkled gardener in a wide-brimmed straw hat offered Clare a towel to clean her face. He smiled, and his browned hands with long fingernails gently repositioned her strap to restore her dignity. That didn't work, but Clare was able to readjust her suit so that her ass was less exposed. Two of the men in small bathing trunks had caught up with Clare and helped steady her.

She gave the bag to the men. She heard the sound of applause from people who were awake that early and had seen her actions. She felt embarrassed because of the attention, and because her racing suit felt so small on her body. Every muscle, bone, wrinkle, and bulge were barely concealed by the thin fabric. The two men shooed the gardener away, who bowed to Clare as he left. They guided her back to the woman with the sunglasses, who looked over her cigarette holder. Up close, her hips seemed incredibly wide, like those of a fertility goddess. The man with the bag showed her what had almost been stolen -- her wallet, her bungalow key, her cell phone. The woman sniffed, as if the things had a bad odor.

"I think she was trying to rob you."

"You saved me a lot of trouble. That would have been my third iPhone X lost this month. My husband would not be pleased." She took a deep breath of cigarette, and expelled it upwards.

When she noticed Clare's ripped suit, she tossed a large white fluffy towel to her. Clare nodded her thanks, and wrapped herself from her armpits to her thighs. The woman motioned for Clare to take a seat, and Clare reluctantly settled in a chair.

"Lucky for me you are an athletic young thing. Thank you. You must allow me to pay for your swim suit. And pay for your stay here. I won't take no for an answer."

Clare blushed. "I'm not staying here. If they catch me, they'll have me arrested for trespassing."

The woman considered this for a moment. "Not any more. You will be my guest." She gave a look to one of her four young men, who understood. He trotted off to arrange for Clare's accommodations at the spa.

"I can't let you do that. I just reacted. Your thanks is enough."

"Nonsense. I'm Mrs. Nicholas Sampson. He owns a majority share of this resort. You can call me Lu -- short for Lucille. You are now my guest...."

"Clare." They shook hands.

Clare recognized the name Nicholas Sampson. Who wouldn't know the name of one of the ten richest men in the world? But Lu looked too young to be married to Nicholas Sampson, a man in his seventies, if not older. Lu was only a few years older than Clare, who was only 23. But when Clare looked at Lu, she saw a woman of power, charisma and intense sensuality.

"You can close your mouth now, Clare. I'm the current Mrs. Sampson, and I plan to be the last Mrs. Sampson. I think we should start by getting you a new bikini."

"Thank you, but I don't like bikinis. I can't swim laps. I better just be going."

"Nonsense! You are my guest. I think we can have some fun this weekend." Lu leered at each of the four horsemen in turn. Clare's mouth fell open again.

Clare leaned forward. "Your husband trusts you around these muscle-bound clumps of testosterone?"

"He firmly believes they're gay. I promote that deception, for my own enjoyment. As you might imagine."

"So, you mean you've never...?"

"Oh, my, yes. We have. Many, many, many, many times. But no one speaks of it for fear that they might be discharged."

"No cameras, private detectives, tape recorders that might trip you up?"

Lu winked at her. "Only my own, my dear. Anyway, once a year I have a get out of jail free card. I use it on April Fool's. In fact, it's only good on April Fool's Day."

"That's tomorrow. I think I'd rather have your magic card than a bikini, if you don't mind."

"No reason you can't have both." Lu stood up, lifted her cigarette holder, and one of the men lit the end for her.

"I'm listening." Clare glanced at the men's cobblestone abs, hoping to use a get-out-of-jail-free card to know them better.

"Let's get you a suit first, Clare. Timothy will show you to your room." Lu nodded to the man who had arranged a suite for her. Another large strapping fellow, whose thighs were the most muscular of all of the four men, walked ahead, his calf muscles tightened to the point they were ready to burst narrowing to impossibly thin ankles. He had the physique of a Russian ballet dancer. Clare resisted the urge to rip off the rest of her swim suit and tackle him on the pathway.

Clare's bungalow suite was on the first floor, not far from the pools or the garden. She had a full view of the premises. Lu pointed out her own suite across the way, and Nicholas Sampson's private area, located on the third floor with a large lanai overlooking the resort. Lu showed Clare the bedrooms, the lounging area, the dining area, and both bath rooms. The one located off her bedroom was equipped with a rainforest spa, a misting area, and a hot tub.

"I'll order you some breakfast. Take your time. I'll be back later." Lu and her four horsemen left. Clare flopped down on the kingsized bed and pinched herself. She couldn't believe her luck.

About noon, Clare answered the knock on her suite door wearing a fluffy white robe embossed with the spa's name over her left breast. Lu was at the door, still smoking, still wearing her straw hat and sunglasses, still accompanied by her four guards. She wore a diaphanous cover-up which did little to conceal her love-goddess curves.

Lu swept into the foyer of the large suite, followed by the four men, each carrying bags and boxes from upscale stores. Their purchases covered the couches and chairs. They stood with their legs spread and their arms behind their back, at ease. Clare was not at ease with four men waiting for her to give them a fashion show.

"Don't be shy, dear. They've seen it all, believe me." The men stood at each of the four corners of the large room, their eyes straight ahead, their lips a thin line. Lu ruffled through some intimate lingerie, allowing them to glide across her hands.

"I'll try them on in the bedroom. You can stay out here."

Lu shook her head at Clare's modesty. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. But, suit yourself." Lu sat down in one of the armchairs, and crossed one leg over the other, letting it swing wildly back and forth. The men's eyes stared straight ahead.

Clare took several boxes into the bedroom. She opened the first, then a second and a third. She was shocked and embarrassed by the quality of the fabrics, the mastery of the sewing, the brilliance of the colors. The undergarments felt sinfully smooth against her skin. She tried on an outfit and it fit perfectly. It lay smoothly against her slim body, flattering her figure. Her dark helmet of short hair made her feel like a model. She turned her head from side to side, surprised at the beautiful young woman reflected in her mirror, and tears started down her cheeks. She didn't deserve any of these clothes.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. Lu called in, "Nicky wants to meet us for lunch by the pool."

"'Nicky'?" Clare called back.

"My husband. We shouldn't keep him waiting. Now put on one of the suits and let's go."

Clare looked around and found three tiny bags, the kind that sometimes carried earrings or bracelets. "I can't find one."

Lu let herself in, picked up the three miniscule bags and extracted three balls of string from each. She tossed the lime green one to Clare. "I thought this would go well with your fair skin tone."

Clare caught it and pulled it apart. There was a whole lot of nothing there, connected with bright lime cords. "I don't think so."

Lu took the lime suit back, and rearranged it. "See? Now, try it on."

"There's nothing there!"

"Eh, there's enough. Now, strip."

Clare carefully removed her new beautiful outfit and hung it in her closet. Then she stepped naked in front of Lu, who appraised her figure with the eye of a sculptor.

"You're toned. And shaved."

"I'm a runner. It's more comfortable."

"That will work. That will work fine." She handed Clare the top, and helped her adjust it so that its tiny fabric triangles did their best to cover Clare's cafe au lait areolae. The top did not support her, and luckily, Clare's bosom did not require support. Clare didn't think the top would remain in place during even the first flip turn as she did her laps, but she didn't want to appear ungrateful to Lu.

Then Lu held out the bottom. It consisted of a small triangle, and lime green cords. The triangle covered the front, barely; nothing covered Clare's rear end.

"I can't wear that."

Lu smiled, and opened it up for Clare to step into it.

"My dear, you have a lovely figure. You have firm, tight buns. It must be the running you do. Even I want a quick bite of that apple."

Clare blushed. "That's just not me, Lu. Please."

"You can't think of yourself as 'uncovered.' You are wearing a bit of clothing. That's the point of fashion -- to show how lovely the wearer is, to highlight their best features. And your ass, my dear, is a truly great feature on you."

Clare took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped into the strings. She felt Lu pulling the cords over her thighs, her ass, and pulled taut on her hips. The bikini rose up partially on her hips, which would never stay as she swam. The cord slid above her glutes and dove into her sensitive crack. When she tightened her ass, the muscles bulged behind and contracted along the sides. Looking over her shoulder, Clare saw that she was completely nude from the rear. But the shape of her body now was no different than when she wore a racing suit. In one sense, she was being more honest. Lu was right. Her body was beautiful. She wished her old boyfriend could see her now. She had nothing to be ashamed about -- as long as the top didn't shift and the bottom didn't drop.

She left the bedroom and heard the collective gasp from the stalwart guards, although they quickly recovered. Lu was unable to suppress her smile. She handed her a straw hat and a long stringed purse to swing over her arm. Inside the purse was a pair of sunglasses, which Clare fit over her eyes. Once she had her accessories in place, she no longer felt quite so undressed. She felt empowered. She stepped into sandals near the glass windows that opened onto the patio and the path that led to the magnificent pool area.

Clare turned to Lu. "This isn't an April Fool's joke, is it? I keep expecting to find out this is all some awful prank."

Lu's shaded eyes stared straight forward. "Tomorrow is April Fool's Day, not today, my dear."

The table was draped with white cloth fluttering in the afternoon breeze. Even from a distance, Clare saw bottles of wine chilling, appetizers, gleaming white plates, and silverware with some heft to them ready for the luncheon. A multi-colored umbrella provided shade. Nicholas Sampson wore a blue blazer, a pair of gray slacks with a perfect crease, a bright white shirt open to the third button revealing a he-man's chest, unexpected in someone his age. A tasteful gold medallion dangled between his steel-gray chest hairs. He was surrounded by twice the number of guards that protected Lu, all of whom wore black sports coats, dark gray shirts, light gray slacks, and ear pieces to communicate. Bulges under their jackets made it clear that they were prepared for combat if necessary.

Lu sashayed as she walked with a natural rhythm. Clare walked next to her, but did not have hips to swing. A strange, random thought popped into Clare's head. She saw that their shadows formed the number 18. A straight line like a 1 from Clare's shadow, and a rounded figure eight from Lu's curves. They really couldn't have been more different.

Nicky smiled a broad, long-toothed grin. He opened his arms wide in welcome. Clare felt his shaded eyes crawling over her exposed body, and he hadn't yet seen how exposed her back was. Some of his guards had, it appeared. They were cool, though, and only glanced as if she were one more tactical object that needed to be evaluated before moving to the next.

The old gardener shuffled toward Clare and Lu. Timothy held him back with his hand. The gardener bowed twice and grinned innocently, holding up two bouquets of roses in his gnarled hands. His fingernails were nearly as long and sharp as the thorns on the stems. Lu nodded her okay, and Timothy let the old man give a bouquet to Clare, and then a bouquet to Lu. Clare smiled broadly and leaned forward to kiss the old man. Lu just accepted the flowers without acknowledgement. The old guy bowed while backing away, and they continued on to Nicky.

Lu walked straight into Nicky's outstretched arms. He pulled her close, then kissed her on each cheek. He looked her over carefully as he raised her hand, allowing her to twirl for him. "Yes," he said, "yes." Lu sat on his left.

"And this is the young lady you were telling me about, yes?" He smiled at Clare who leaned forward to allow him to kiss both of her cheeks. Then he put his spidery hand on Clare's back, guiding her toward a seat on his right. His hand drifted lower until it finally rested on her round bottom. Clare was unsure whether to object. After all, she was his guest, and she had agreed with Lu's fashion choice, exposing herself in the lime green string bikini. She didn't mind when he had placed his hand on her naked back -- that seemed normal. So, perhaps she had invited his hand to drift lower by making her rear end so visually available.

"You look lovely, child," he growled to her.

"Thank you," she started to say, when she suddenly felt his hand continue to roam. His middle finger found the crevasse between her two mounds and lay comfortably between them. But when it started to inch closer to her sensitive anus, she pushed her hips forward, did a little bounce step, and slid quickly into the chair pulled out for her. She glanced at Lu for support, but Lu was arranging vases for the flower bouquets. Clare was on her own.

Nicky leaned toward her, one arm around her shoulders. He smiled, broadly, as he explained the planned luncheon. When his eyes dropped to her chest she feared that her top must have slipped a little. She checked it surreptitiously; it still in place, although much of her small breasts were on displayed. Under the gaze of this powerful man, she felt a quiver in her lower stomach and an incipient wetness between her legs. She felt powerful herself.

Clare thought it best to laugh at the things Nicholas said, and leaned her shoulders toward him. She didn't want to seem impolite or disinterested. Lu watched her very closely. Clare remembered that Lu had said she planned to be the last Mrs. Nicholas Sampson. That was fine by Clare.

After about thirty minutes of marvelous dining, one of Nicky's men whispered in his ear, and Nicholas's smile dropped, replaced by a feral twist of his lips. He slammed his fist on the table, making the silverware jingle. Then, he composed himself. "I'm sorry. It appears that I will be called away for awhile." He twisted to his wife and kissed her on each cheek. "Tonight, then?"

"Of course," Lu drew her filmy wrap around her, which emphasized her bosom and her legs. His eyes narrowed and his breathing became more rapid. He patted his heart.

Clare pushed her short brown hair off her forehead and tucked a lock behind her ear. Nicholas lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it and lingering over her nearness.

"I will see you again, child. I trust it will be soon." He bowed to her and to Lu, then strode powerfully back to his suite followed by his entourage.

Lu polished off the wine in her glass which Timothy quickly refilled. Timothy refilled Clare's glass as well.

"He is a very sensual man," Clare said, her throat a little dry. She swallowed some wine.

"Yes, he is that, my dear."

"You know I wasn't encouraging him."

Lu threw her head back and laughed. "Ha! I know him. You are just one of many in the course of a day. I'm glad that he liked you; it's better than if he disapproved. But, I am not worried by his actions, and I am not threatened by a slip of a girl like you." She sipped again. "No offense."

"None taken." Clare looked around the pool area, and at the four guards at Lu's disposal. She wondered what it might be like to have a troop of strong men at her disposal, to be used as she saw fit, in as many varieties as she could imagine. She shook her head to clear the images and blew out her breath like she was extinguishing a birthday candle.

"Did you make a wish, my dear?"

"Wish?" Clare's eyes glanced at each of Lu's men in turn. "You can't imagine what I would wish."

"Oh, I think I can. In fact, I think I've been granted your wish."


Lu shrugged, and tamped out her cigarette. "Your wish and more, my dear, rest assured."

"Isn't that a dangerous game when you're married to a man like Mr. Sampson?"

Lu shrugged. "We all play games. Even you, my dear."

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