The Corporate Party on April Fools

Molly killed at the shred class. Her ass never looked better. Her abs rippled when she cocked a hip. Men in her class, and some women, came on to her. At 29, she knew she looked good. Still she was nervous. What was wrong between Harold and her? They had been married for seven years, both had successful careers, had good health, took annual vacations to exotic locations, and yet Harold never touched her any longer. He blamed the pressures of work, which had been on-going for the past eighteen months. And now, he had sprung the news that he had invited six of his bosses to their home for a corporate party on April 1. April Fool's Day.

Molly hoped he was joking, but he was serious. He volunteered to make all the arrangements, hire the caterers, hire a pianist to provide background music, and make sure everything was cleaned up. "And the bonus is that while we are away on our vacation, the corporation has agreed to redo our entire kitchen. All you have to do is show up on April 1 with your beautiful smile," he said, then ducked off to do more work.

Molly had been shy and retiring at college before they met. She had been encouraged by her friends to streak the library, to play strip poker, to skinny dip at the pond. She had always refused, although she was not adverse to watching. When she met Harold at a presentation on genetics, mathematics, and robotics, she knew he was the one. She wore a white lab coat, her usual attire nowadays, but he saw the real Molly behind that. They had a whirlwind courtship, and married the summer after college, both only 22.

Usually they vacationed in Paris, Moscow, Tel Aviv, and Istanbul, places grounded in scientific and genetic lore. Harold carried a notebook everywhere with him, always taking notes.

But the most recent proposed vacation shocked her. He arranged that they would spend a week on a warm Caribbean island that was clothing optional. The accommodations were luxurious and expensive. The clientele were young and adventurous, like themselves. Molly was happy she had trained especially hard at the gym, because she wanted to tempt Harold with her new, tiny thong bikini. When in Rome, right? She wanted to put some spark back into their love life.

Her ass improved until it was round and high. Her thighs were slim and firm. She suffered through a Brazilian wax and enjoyed the clean feeling of complete smoothness. Her breasts were small but firm, still perky. She packed few clothes, a negligee, her new barely-there bikini, and lots of tanning lotion. Based on the last vacation, she brought her new best friend, a small, vibrating egg. A girl has needs, after all.

Their fifth-floor room overlooked the white beach with purling waves whispering. From the balcony, they could see up and down the beach, and the pool, and the outdoor restaurant. Other rooms had the same view. She could exchange waves to her neighbors sitting on their own balconies, sipping neon-colored drinks.

The first day, Harold and Molly planned to walk the beach together. However, his phone rang and Harold was pulled into Zoom meetings, where he would be busy for at least the next four hours. Molly took a towel and a paperback and decided to explore the hotel and the beach.

She was pleased to see that even in shorts and a halter, she attracted attention from other guests. Usually, just a hello and a smile, but occasionally an overly friendly arm on her shoulder, and in one case, a sharp pinch on her taut, inviting rear.

She stopped back in the room to bring Harold some lunch. They ate it together, while he was still on the phone and making his notes. "I hate your notes, darling," she said.

Harold shrugged with a sheepish grin. "My notes pay for this beautiful vacation."

They ate lunch. Harold was distracted. Molly watched island TV until she could no longer stand it. "Do you mind if I go to the pool to wait for your?"

Harold waved her goodbye.

She took a deep breath and changed into the tiny bikini. She blushed at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was so white! Her ass was so exposed! There was a large mole on the inside of her left breast, reminding her that she was not perfect. Her bra easily hid her imperfection and contained her breasts, which mounded nicely around the triangular fabric. She draped a towel around her hips. She hoped Harold would notice her before she left.

He didn't.

After claiming her beach spot and spreading her towel, she spent the afternoon walking leisurely on the beach in her small bikini. She dragged her toes through the water as she walked to the far end of the beach, then turned to walk back.

The white beach gleamed in the sun. She stopped periodically to apply sunscreen. Beachgoers were in small clumps along the strip. Like her, most were still gathering their courage and wore a bathing suit. As she returned, she noticed that more than half of the women were topless, sunbathing and frolicking in the azure waves. One woman and her partner were totally nude, laughing as they tossed a beach ball high overhead.

She envied them.

Molly returned to her spread towel and reapplied sun screen. A quick text to Harold confirmed he was still busy. She lay on her front. The hot sun picked small points on her skin, not uncomfortably. She might risk going topless, if no one made a deal about it. She snuck a peak around her. No one really cared what she did, still she didn't feel comfortable exposing herself without Harold around. As it was, men still smiled at her, testing her availability. She didn't encourage them, and she didn't loosen her top. She was married to Harold. Unfortunately, he didn't appreciate her.

What was Harold's problem?

That night, Harold and Molly ate a fine dinner of seafood, vegetables, and fruit. They drank a little more than they should have. After dinner, they walked on the beach and watched the sun set. He kept his notebook at his side, but didn't open it the entire time they were together. Molly felt she was making progress.

The evening was warm. Molly tasted the salt on the breeze. The scent of tropical flowers suffused the air. They kissed and walked hand in hand to their room.

Molly took a quick shower and admired her sleek look in the mirror. She decided to come naked to bed. Harold was already under the sheets and had his notebook in hand. The only light was on the notebook. She was masked in shadow.

"You like?" she asked.

"You always look beautiful," he said, without looking up.

Molly slid open the door to the balcony. The resort was lit like a fairy castle, with delicate lights twinkling. She stepped out onto the balcony and took a deep breath. She looked at the other balconies.

She was not alone.

Couples in various stages of undress and engaged in the preliminaries to sex were hanging from every balcony. Always couples! Then she saw a few men alone, taking in the free sex shows on the balcony. When they saw her, they raised their drinks in salute.

A thrill coursed through her. She didn't feel threatened, even though she was completely exposed. It occurred to her that she had missed a lot of exciting adventures by not streaking the library, going skinny dipping, or playing strip poker. She smiled back at the men, and stretched with her hands behing her head. Both tits elevated nicely, her nipples aimed at the moon. One of the gawkers dropped his drink when she reached the apex of her stretch.

"Honey," she called. "Come out on the balcony. It's beautiful out here."

The only answer was a rumbling snore. Molly couldn't believe it. She charged back into the room, ready to jump onto Harold. Instead, she paused. He looked so relaxed, under the white sheets, breathing deeply. She hadn't realized the strains he was under at work, and how much he really needed this vacation.

His precious notebook was on the nightstand next to him. Molly wondered what might be so important to him. She wasn't sure she would understand the technical mathematical jargon, but she wanted to see.

She opened the book. Just as she expected, it was filled with formulas, coding, and graphs. Some of the graphs were of circles, sometimes in equal pairs, surrounding smaller circles. There were vertical waves, sinuous wave functions, often two mirror images of each other. There was something erotic about the drawings as she studied them. There might have been something sexy about the numbers, too, but she couldn't be sure. She closed the notebook and placed it back on the night table.

She slipped into bed beside him. He didn't stir. She settled on her side before reaching into the drawer on her side. Her fingers danced through the drawer until she found her egg. She gave it a quick kiss, turned it on, and put it to work.

The next morning, they shared a breakfast of fruit, coffee, and light toast. Harold took her for a walk on the beach. She wore the shorts and top she wore to breakfast. She didn't press the clothing optional matter because there was a slight chill in the air. They walked until the sun was higher and warmer, but as soon as the sun reached its apogee, Harold became nervous and retreated back to the room. Molly came with him, trying to convince him to come to the beach. He apologized, but he needed to finish the sketches and calculations.

Molly wished she could do some of her own laboratory work remotely. Then it hit her. This is a vacation away from work. If Harold couldn't be pulled away, Molly owed it to their marriage that at least one of them enjoy the time. She changed into her thong bikini, adjusted the tiny top around her perfectly acceptable if slightly imperfect breasts, grabbed a beach towel and a paperback, and stormed to the beach.

Molly lay stretched out on her stomach. After a quarter hour, she dared herself to untie the top. She lay her head one way, then the other, but could not get comfortable. She shuffled her legs, widened them a little, tickled where the small thong fit so neatly in the cleft of her behind.

A shadow passed over her. She lifted on one shoulder and looked back. A slim man with broad shoulders wearing a speedo knelt on one knee next to her. He held a bottle of sunscreen, rocking it back and forth.

"Permettez-moi to apply some protection to you," he said in clumsy English with a French accent.

Molly held up her left hand and wiggled the third finger. "Married."

He flashed a winning smile. "That is no reason for you to suffer the sunburn, no?"

Molly chuckled, but didn't move. Instead, she felt a slight brush on her backside. The Frenchman was lightly removing the white sand from her rounded behind. Molly hadn't known there was any sand there. She almost told him to stop it, but then again, it felt kind of pleasant. He continued to dust off her legs, from the thighs to the calves. He held her left foot in his hand and firmly massaged it.

Molly relaxed and put her head down. When he switched to the other foot, she changed her head's position so she could see him clearly. He smiled and rocked the sunscreen bottle again.

"Oh, go ahead," she said.

The sunscreen was cold on her sun-warmed skin and she gasped as his large hands spread it over her back, and then lower at her waist. She caught her breath again as he spread it on her thighs and calves. He hadn't protected much of her butt, though.

He seemed to be waiting for her explicit okay.

"You don't want my derriere to burn, do you?" she asked with one eye closed agains the sun's brightness.

"No, no, of course not! Bien sûr que non!"

His large hands cupped her cheeks and slipped up and down covering them completely. His long fingers pressed against her hip bone on the side of her pelvis, and were almost long enough to reach underneath to the front of her thighs. No other man or college student had touched her so intimately before, with the exception of Harold. Perhaps she had missed something in those years.

His hands palpated and smoothed her glutes. One long finger slipped between the cheeks and the tip brushed her anus. She tightened and considered slapping his face. Except that it felt exciting, new, thrilling. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax and let him explore the area. Her breathing became regular and calm.

To her embarrassment, she fell asleep while the Frenchman's hands were still stroking her.

When she awoke, she was alone on her stomach. The sun was high. The Frenchman came back to give her a bottle of ice-cold water to sip. Without really thinking, Molly turned over and sat up. Her breasts were uncovered, but she forced herself not to mind. The Frenchman looked only into her eyes. He'd probably seen thousands of women topless. The only thing that caused Molly some embarrassment was the pale white triangles on her breasts and the mole on the inside curve of her left breast. She would have to do something about those triangles.

The Frenchman held out the sunscreen, rocking it a little. "Use for your frontside, no?"

Molly smiled and took the bottle. "Could you make sure I don't miss any place?"

The Frenchman smiled, but shook his head. "You tempt me too much already, ma cherie. Pardonne-moi, but I must say no."

Molly nodded, her eyes twinkling. She applied the cream slowly, carefully on her breasts. They responded by tightening her nipples and pushing forward a bit. "My name is Molly. I hate this birthmark or mole or whatever it is. It's so ugly."

He paused before answering. "Mon nom est Luc."

"You may as well share this part of the beach with me, Luc."

"Are you sure you do not mind?" He didn't wait for her answer before retrieving his towel and cooler and dragging them over to her. "I don't make you uncomfortable, madame?"

Molly laughed. She was all but naked, only a small triangle covering her between her legs, but she felt very comfortable with this slightly older man, Luc. That is, until he slipped off his speedo.

"Oh!" she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You are naked, and I didn't want you to feel like the only one."

Molly looked around the beach. In the afternoon sun, nearly everyone was naked. With her tiny thong, she was wearing more than any other woman there. That decided it. She slipped her thong past her feet. She was grateful to be clean shaven, even though she couldn't have told you why exactly. She lifted the sunscreen bottle over her white patch between her legs and let a generous dollop splat on her mons. It was no longer cool, but warmed by the sun. It slid on its own into her crevices.

"Would you help me here?" she asked, surprised at her own boldness.

Luc smiled but shook his head. "You are married, ma cherie. Let us enjoy the freedom without complication, no?"

"Of course," she agreed, wondering what was the matter with her.

She was a prude and until today was comfortable with being conservative. She'd never been to a nude beach in her life. She'd never sunbathed naked, even alone. She'd never spent time lying next to a naked man, except for Harold. Things were changing.

They spent time napping, dozily chatting about nothing in particular. He had no children and no wife. She had no children but a husband. She worked in a lab wearing a white coat. He wore a bespoke suit while working in a corporation. Around three o'clock, Luc surprised her. He swooped her up and carried her into the ocean. The water was cold after laying on the beach so long, and Molly instinctively threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close. She felt a few curly hairs tickling her breasts. And was that his lovely dick poking her in the hip as he carried her? She hoped it was.

They splashed each other. Molly clambered onto Luc's back and he began to swim out to sea. She was excited, scared, but willing to trust him. She couldn't imagine Harold carrying her out to sea. Luc swam to a sand bar about a hundred yard from the beach. Luc crouched, shoulder-deep in the water. Gingerly, Molly lowered herself, reaching for the sandy bottom with her foot. When she found it, she stood. The waves rolled past her just below her hips. She laughed when she realized Luc was crouched and that the sandbar was high in the water. She laughed, too, because she was nervous to be standing naked before him. He stood up and his cock jutted above the waves. Her eyes widened as it became tumescent.

"Am I doing that?" she asked, with faux innocence.

"Absolument," he said.

Molly reached for his dick. It was hot. She felt it throb in her hands. It was large, she thought, although she hadn't much experience. "I don't think that will fit inside me."

Luc laughed. "It doesn't have to."

Molly didn't let go. She liked the sensation in her hand. Harold didn't like her to fondle him. Sex was quick and clean where they were concerned.

"I've always wanted to try this. Do you mind?" she asked. Then she lowered her face until his knob was near her lips. She glanced up expecting him to stop her, but his head was tilted back. His cock tasted salty, which she should have expected. His stomach muscles tensed, covered in tiny blonde hairs. The fleshy, warm thing in her mouth responded to her tongue, bobbing a little and scraping against her teeth. Against her will, her imagination began to flood her mind with the untasted penises she had never touched before she was married or after. Were they as big? Were they as salty? Were they as powerful?

"Do you swallow?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Thure. Whaa naah?" She answered around the cock that was still in her mouth, not trusting to remove it. His breath became ragged. He put his hands on the back of her head, but she didn't feel trapped, just desired. His dick trembled, so she used her tongue more aggressively.

Then it exploded in her mouth. The cum pushed into her throat and kept filling her. She closed her lips tightly around his member, but couldn't control herself. She began gagging and spit into the ocean. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Luc laughed and pulled her close. "So, was that truly your first time la fellation, sucking a dick?"

Molly spit again and rubbed her tongue against her teeth. "Hard to believe, huh?"

Luc laughed again. "I feel very lucky, très chanceux avec vous, to share this experience with you. Merci, ma cherie."

She hugged him, enjoying his strength. She was glad she had worked so hard at the gym, because she felt his equal in physical development. She wondered what fucking him might feel like. Well, there was always tomorrow.

She swung around to his back and he swam them back to the beach. It was near dinner time. They collected their things. He helped her put her thong back on, and she helped him with his speedo.

"See you tomorrow, Luc?"

He looked sad. "Ç'est domage, cherie. I am leaving tonight. But I will never forget you, ma cherie. Perhaps we'll meet again next vacation?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Oh, shoot. I'm sorry. I don't even know you. But I'm going to miss you, Luc."

"Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I've grown very fond of the beauty mark on your left breast. May I kiss it once? Does your husband know what a lucky man he is?"

Molly nodded, but couldn't say "yes."

#

The next morning, Harold awoke relaxed and refreshed. He even sang in the shower. "Things are going great with the kitchen remodel, honey. Everything is on track for our corporate party. Let's spend the entire day at the beach today, okay?" He wore shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, sandals and white socks, a huge straw hat covered his head, his notebook dangled at his side, and a pair of binoculars around his neck.

Molly dressed in her thong bikini, grabbed her novel, beach bag, and towel. Harold's mouth gaped when he saw her.

"Whoa there! You look tremendous! I can't wait to show you off, honey." He kissed her cheek, then gingerly patted her behind.

Molly walked with him to the beach, but Harold would occasionally drop back just to watch her ass in her bikini. When he did, he then slowed to adjust the bulge that was shifting his shorts. That was at least some kind of victory, she thought. She was tempted to stretch again, just for his benefit.