Promises Pt. 02

I lie in bed, listening to the sounds of her in the shower, the thought of her naked in there doing nothing to quell my now raging erection. The shower stops after a while and I hear the curtain slide open. A minute later she calls out, "Okay, Peter, your turn."

That catches me by surprise. I would have figured that she'd want to be out of there before I came in, but I can be flexible. As I walk toward the bathroom, though, it occurs to me that I'm going to have to be creative about getting myself into the shower, unless she's almost done.

Nope. She has one of the big, fluffy bath towels wrapped around under her arms, draped nearly to her knees. She's busy working on her hair and seems to pay me no particular attention as I walk in. I gulp and nearly turn back, but then decide to run with it. I don't want to be the prude.

I casually peel off my T-shirt, tossing it through the bathroom doorway into the corner, then hang a towel on the hook next to the shower. I step in, strip off my boxers and hang them over the shower rod. Problem solved.

The water's already warm when I turn it on, but my cock is almost impossibly hard now. My hand automatically goes to it and I nearly jump from its sensitivity. I realize that I'm already on a hair trigger. The thought of doing something about it with her on the other side of the curtain is both terrifying and intoxicating.

I squirt some shampoo into my hand and lather my hair as usual, but then I give in to temptation and grab my bottle of conditioner. I squeeze out a dollop and begin to quietly work my manhood in long, smooth strokes, concentrating on being non-rhythmic. That slows me a bit, but I know it still won't take long. Naturally, it's at this point that Kira strikes up a conversation.

"So did you have a good time parasailing yesterday?"

I take a quick breath to make sure I can talk normally first, but I don't stop my self-gratification.

"Yeah, it was great. I thought it would be intense, but once you're in the air you can just relax and enjoy the view. How were the ruins?" I hope my voice doesn't give away my extreme state of sexual arousal.

"They were fascinating. The Mayans were an amazing people. They were so advanced in a lot of ways, yet backwards in others. They built an astounding civilization, all without wheels or metal."

"Yeah, pretty interesting." So close, so close.

"The spa won't be nearly as educational, but when I was online, I found out they have a masseuse who gets five stars on all her reviews. I booked a session with her for eleven. I'm really looking forward to it."

I feel myself tipping past the point of inevitability.

"Sounds like fun," I say, using every last ounce of my self-control to keep my voice casual. My release is welling up now, just seconds away.

"Oops, missed a spot on my calf. Peter, would you hand me my razor? It should be sitting on the seat."

I don't trust myself to speak now, but I turn toward the back of the shower and snag it. Then, as I turn back, I see that she's snaked her hand around the edge of the curtain. Simultaneously, I feel the first spasm of my release, but I'm aimed right at her! I begin to turn my hips away, but it's too late. To my horror, the first rope (the big juicy one) lands square in the palm of her hand.

"Oops," I say, quickly grabbing her hand and holding it under the spray. My shame and embarrassment have all but overcome my raging release now. "I was holding the conditioner bottle and must have tipped it when I turned." That's totally lame, but it's the best I can do as I pump the rest of my load onto the shower wall.

"Mmm, warm conditioner," she says with a giggle, and I'm deathly afraid she knows exactly what I was doing. I finish rinsing her tiny little hand and place the handle of the razor in it.

"Thank you, Peter."

"You're welcome, Kira," I say as the last of my issue drips from my balls.

I want Kira to head back into the room proper because I'm not sure I can look her in the face just yet. Fortunately, she finishes quickly again, and I step out of the shower unobserved. It takes a few minutes as I get ready, but I convince myself that she probably doesn't know what I was doing in there.

When I come out of the bathroom, I'm back on an even keel. Kira is fully dressed and sitting at the table with her back to me, typing on her laptop at a furious speed. She has a pillow from the bed folded in half under her little butt to get her up to the right height. Her heels are hooked on the crossbar under the seat to keep her legs from dangling.

I pad up behind her and look at what she's doing. It appears to be a page of dialog that she's currently adding to.

"You write fiction?"

She jumps, then partially closes the lid and looks up at me with an embarrassed look on her face.

"Sorry," I say, "I didn't mean to snoop." I feel a bit ashamed of having been caught doing so.

"No, it's okay, but I don't normally let anyone watch me write. The creative process is very personal for me."

"Then I'll keep my nose out of your laptop."

She smiles apologetically. "Maybe you'll read my story when I'm done with it?"

"I think I'd like that." And I already know I would have read it eventually anyway, because now I've figured out who she really is.

I've read her stuff before.

Breakfast with Kira is just as agreeable as it was the day before, and I realize that I like being with her simply because she's fun. It was the same with Anna, though on a more platonic level. This is something completely new in my relationships with the fairer sex.

Is it me that's changed, maybe because of my ugly breakup with Destinee? Or is it the laidback tropical atmosphere here in Mexico? Probably not, because I'd had to be my usual calculating self with the four other women in the South Carolina party. So maybe it's something about the girls themselves that's making everything seem so much easier and more natural?

I don't know for certain, but in any case, I really feel good about the relationships I'm developing with both of them, which is more fascinating still. I've never been involved with two women at the same time and never had any desire to be. Weird.

After breakfast, we go back to the room together to get ready for our respective activities. I let Kira use the bathroom first and she's quickly ready to head out for her day at the spa.

"Wanna do dinner with me tonight?" I ask.

"You're not asking me out on a date, are you?" she asks, standing in the open door to the hall and looking a bit concerned.

Oops. Maybe I've pushed it too far. "No, it would be as friends."

"Well," she says hesitantly, "I guess that would be okay then."

"How about Águila y Sol at seven? The reviews on that place are really good and the Mexican food is supposed to be super authentic."

A big shit-eating grin sweeps across her face. "It's a date," she giggles.

"Hey!" But the door has already closed behind her.

I grab my laptop and do a little bit of research on the nugget of information I picked up from peering over her shoulder. It quickly confirms my suspicions. I knew she looked familiar, though I wouldn't necessarily have linked the sophisticated photo on the internet with the tiny slip of a girl who's shared my bed the last two nights.

I won't be seeing her again until tonight, so I consider getting together with Anna. On the other hand, if I'm planning on getting naked at the beach, that might be a bit awkward. Besides, she said she's going to be around until Friday. I'll look her up tomorrow.

I change into my swim trunks and a T-shirt, then stuff a few items into a knapsack I bought for just this purpose. I pride myself on always pushing to experience new things, and a nude beach is definitely going to be that.

The beach is divided into two sections, one on each side of a privacy fence that stretches from the jungle down to the high tide line. From there, it's a tall stone jetty that runs well out into the surf. A screened passage through the fence at the entrance to the clothing-optional section bears a multi-lingual sign that says cameras are not allowed. Good idea.

I walk through the opening expecting a nude beach like in the stories I've read about them, where everyone is young, buff, tanned and naked. Instead, it looks just about like the clothed side. The only nudists in the crowd appear to be fat, middle-aged men. There are quite a few younger people here, but they're evidently not in the mood to make the older crowd happy by stripping down. They're probably here more to avoid the families with noisy kids that dominate the clothed section of the beach.

I sigh and lay out my towel. So much for the new experience. But then I think about it for a second longer. If it's allowed, then why not do it?

I consider stripping while lying down, so as not to draw attention, but then think about it for a second more. What the hell, go for it. I stay on my feet.

I can feel lots of eyes on me because, like everywhere I go, I'm the tallest person in sight. With no further hesitation, I pull off my T-shirt, then push my trunks down and kick them onto my knapsack. The warm breeze coming from up the beach feels very strange on my newly bared skin, but I continue to act like I do this every day, casually lying down on my stomach.

The sun feels nice and I'm glad that part of my regimen for chasing the ladies has been to visit a tanning salon from time to time. I'm not deeply bronzed by any means, but I've got a light tan with no lines.

Tan or not, I don't want to burn, so I get busy and spread on some SPF 30, but I can't reach the middle of my back and I'm loathe to ask anyone around me for help. Instead, I cover my whole front and lay down on my back, exposing the family jewels to the sun. I'll have to figure out what to do with my back later.

For the first few minutes, I'm exceptionally nervous about having exposed myself, but my biggest worry (getting excited and popping a boner in public) now seems to be a non-issue. Gradually I relax until, twenty minutes in, I feel like a pro at this whole nudist thing. It's just me, my sunglasses and a smile.

There's an elderly couple in lounge chairs between me and the distant archway. I'm surreptitiously looking through the gap under their chairs, keeping an eye out for the approach of attractive women. I'm hoping that one of them will grace us with a nice view of her naked body. The glare from the white sand is intense, though, and they'd have to get quite close before I could do my analysis.

Children aren't specifically forbidden on this patch of beach, but up until now, I haven't seen any crumb-crunchers. Then I spot a lone child approaching. The way she walks isn't little girlish, though, and it doesn't take me long to realize that it's Kira. So much for her day at the spa.

She's looking around, obviously trying to spot me, but with my being tucked down behind the older couple, she's not going to see me until she's close. I suppose I could stand up and wave at her, but as long as she's heading in the right direction, I'll wait.

As fate would have it, she continues straight toward me, though that's actually not all that surprising since I'm on the main aisle. As she gets closer and closer, I belatedly remember that I'm nude and have to fight the urge to grab for my suit. I know that's silly, but while it somehow feels okay to be naked in front of strangers, the thought of having Kira see me that way makes me feel nervous, and maybe even a little ashamed. I mentally slap myself. This is a nude beach and she'll be well aware that I could be in an advanced state of undress.

I steel my nerve as she approaches the older couple then comes into view down by my feet.

"Hi Kitty," I say. Kira turns and sees a very large, very naked man looking up at her. The shock on her pretty little face is priceless. Whether it's from suddenly finding me, or the fact that I'm buck naked, or the surprise of my calling her by her given name, I don't know, but I wish I had a camera. She blushes deep red and turns her head away.

"Hey, relax. It's what happens on this beach."

"I know," she says, recovering somewhat and turning her head toward me. "You just surprised me." Then her brow crinkles. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"How many novels have a character named Maya Windrider, like I saw in that dialog on your screen? You're the science fiction writer, K.T. Zwilling."

"You've read my books?"

"All three of them. A couple of years ago I saw the feature story that the Minneapolis Star Tribune did on local writers, and decided to give your first book a try. Now I'm eagerly awaiting number four." I motion at the empty patch of sand next to me. "Grab some beach. I'm hoping I can get you to spill a taste of the plot to me."

Kira smiles, seeming to have regained her normally self-confident attitude. "Well... I guess it couldn't hurt to join you," she says, as if that hadn't been her plan all along. She knows she's not fooling anyone.

She sits her floral beach bag next to my knapsack and spreads a beach towel the same size as mine, but the color of the panties I saw her in earlier. It overlaps mine by a couple of inches. Her modest one-piece suit is almost the same shade of pink as her towel, but it's a good color for her.

When the towel is spread, she hesitates. For a moment, I think (and hope) that she's going to remove her suit. Alas, she lowers herself gracefully onto her back on the towel. She looks almost lost on it, whereas my knees stick out past the end of mine.

"So what happened to your massage, Kitty?"

"Hikka was under the weather this morning, so I managed to get rescheduled for tomorrow. I figured I'd come down and catch a few rays. And please call me Kira. I hate the name my folks tagged me with."

"Oh, sorry."

"Not your fault at all, but only Angelo ever calls me that. I was named Kitty Theresa for my late grandmother, but I was 'Teri' from birth. Angelo decided that he really liked my first name for some reason, so I gritted my teeth and allowed it."

"Well you won't hear me call you that again, but why do you prefer 'Kira' to 'Teri'?"

She shrugs. "Kira is what I'm used to you calling me, and it has kind of an exotic, mysterious vibe to it. Teri is just incredibly boring. When the divorce is final, I think I'm going to legally change my first name to Kira while I change my last one back to Zwilling from Carlisi."

Wow, she doesn't mess around. At least she'll still be "K.T." on her book covers. "So tell me, Kira, how did you become a writer?"

"Oh, I was incredibly shy and quiet when I was little, er, young, and I never felt like I fit in. I loved to read though, from the time I was four and my dad taught me how. When I was six, I started to write my own tales. I never really got into TV and spent all my free time making up stories. I was typing forty words a minute when I was eight."

"Wow."

"Of course it left me a bit stunted in other areas of my life, but while most writers don't produce stuff that anyone wants to read until they're at least in their thirties, I'd done so much reading and writing that I was able to self-publish a decent book at nineteen. The sales really picked up after the Star Tribune's article on me was syndicated, and now I sell enough that I could live on the royalties."

"That's awesome."

"So what do you do, Peter?"

I tell her about my machine shop. She seems to be genuinely fascinated and wants to hear more.

"Well, my latest project is to develop and patent some new ideas in automated warehouse storage," I say.

"An automated warehouse? What, is everything stacked and stored by robots?"

"That's the idea, but they've been doing stuff like that for years. What my system does is allow things to be packed much tighter, while improving response times, reducing equipment and maintenance costs, and increasing accuracy. All with a lower cost of implementation."

That's about the point where the average person's eyes glaze over, but Kira seems even more interested now. "That sounds like a neat trick. How do you do it?"

I roll over on my stomach and pull my tablet out of my bag. The feel of the soft terrycloth under my package reminds me that I'm naked. I'd honestly forgotten. Kira rolls over as well and gets up on her elbows.

The bright sun is completely washing out the screen. "Well," I say, "I was going to show you some pictures, but..."

"Hang on," she says, "I have an idea. Scoot over a bit."

She bounces to her feet as I comply, then picks up her towel. She gently shakes the sand out of it, then folds it in half. I know what she's doing now and grab the proffered corner so that Kira can lie down next to me on my towel and we can drape hers over our heads and shoulders. Now we're in a relatively dark place and able to easily see the screen.

The feel of her tiny body pressing against my bare skin from shoulder to hip is highly distracting, but I fire up the tablet and show her some photos and illustrations of the current state-of-the-art. This is part of the standard presentation I give prospective investors.

"So it's an entire warehouse where people never even go?" she says after the first few frames. She's seemingly intrigued by the idea. "All served by robotic arms traveling on these tracks?"

"Yup, but that's old hat by now. Let me show you where my ideas improve on that." I begin to show her some more photos and illustrations from my patent applications. The top of Kira's foot comes to rest on the back of my thigh, but I retain enough presence of mind to keep going, watching carefully for that moment when she will inevitably begin to find this boring.

"But how do you access the rows in the back if there's no space in between?" she asks.

"That's very perceptive of you, because that's exactly the issue. Check this out."

While I show her the area where most of my patents come into play, I can feel the back of her foot casually slide up and down my thigh a bit. I don't know if it's intentional or not, but it feels obscenely good. I feel my body reacting in a way that's going to keep me from rolling over anytime soon. Then we get to a photo I'd forgotten about.

"Wow, she's gorgeous," Kira says. "Did you hire a model?"

"Um, that's my girlfriend, Destinee. I thought it might brighten up the photo of my shop if I included a pretty girl."

"You have a girlfriend?" She's trying her best to disguise it, but I can hear the dismay in her voice.

"Ex-girlfriend," I quickly clarify.

"Oh, well she's amazing." Kira's jealousy isn't disguised any better now, but I can't blame her in the least. Destinee was perhaps the most beautiful woman I'd ever met. "She's the one you described to 'Roger in the Morning', huh?"

"Yeah."

I go on to the next picture and continue to explain my system, but it's immediately apparent that Kira's mind has gone elsewhere.

"So that's about it," I say, cutting the presentation short and sliding my tablet back into my knapsack.

"Sorry Peter," she says. "I guess I was letting my mind relax a bit there."

"It's a beach. You're supposed to let go and relax."

"Well, if that's true, there's just a little more letting go that I need to do. I want to at least try it." With that, she gets to her feet and spreads her towel again. Then she steps onto it and begins to slide the shoulder straps of her suit off.

As much as I'd like to see what she looks like naked, I don't want it to happen for the wrong reasons. I roll to a seated position, facing her. "Hang on, Kira," I say in as quiet a voice as I think she can understand. "You told me you thought you were too shy to go nude on the beach. I don't want you to do something you're not comfortable with."