The Wayklin Dream Pt. 01

"You won't need those," Byron said, nodding at her frumpy clothes.

"You want me to stay naked?" Sara asked, putting them down on a chair.

"No. You can dress if you want. But, in there. In the walk-in robe. There are things in there you can wear."

"Really?"

"Take what you want. It's yours. And we'll go shopping tomorrow, you can choose some things for yourself."

Sara took tissues from the bench, wiping and dabbing between her legs before walking naked through the suite to the walk-in robe.

"Wow," she murmured. Byron followed and stood naked in the doorway, smiling at the delight on Sara's face. There were dozens of outfits. She took some and held them up against her naked body in the mirror.

"Pick what you want. In those draws there is underwear. We had to guess at your size, hopefully something will fit. Sara opened the drawers and pulled some pieces out. Shelf bras and thongs.

"Or you could just leave your underwear off," Byron smiled. "Up to you. Swimwear in the end draw, too, and some beachwear."

Sara was astounded. It was a dream come true. She felt awful that she had stooped so low to sacrifice her vagina, but the reward was real. She was submerged in a world of elegance.

"I'm going to sort out my call. It won't be a long one, but I'll be in a meeting room in the business center for privacy. Find something to wear for drinks at the beach bar from six til seven, and pick out something to change into for dinner. We'll go to the teppanyaki. It will be stools at the counter, so make sure your dinner dress has deep cleavage. I wanna see those tits, yeah? They're fucking gorgeous."

Sara turned back over her shoulder and gave a nervous nod, holding a cream sequinned dress against her front in the mirror.

"Phew, that ass, too, feel free to have that on show. Fuck, you've got a body."

Sara blushed, her anxiety still just as bad after carrying her host's sperm as she was before he mated with her. Byron stepped forward to hold her bare ass and kiss her neck and then left her to the glamorous parade of dresses.

Sara didn't wear underwear with any of them as she tried them on, worried she would get it dirty from the remnants of their sex. The shelf bra didn't go well with any of the plunge dresses Byron requested, so she put them away, too.

"Oh my god, what to choose?" she asked herself. "What would he want me to wear? I can't have him disappointed in me, not on the first night."

But then again, this was her experience, and she was paying a heavy price for it. How to explain a baby to her mother? So in the end, she made a compromise. Sara chose one conservative outfit for the beach bar that she herself felt comfortable wearing and left another on the clothes horse for dinner that left her ridiculously bare, a dress that she expected he would prefer. Byron hadn't mentioned it, but there were shoes in the wardrobe, too. And at 5:45, a knock at the door brought a lady that gave her a light, natural touching of make-up.

"Wow, so good, so quick," Sara said, stunned. The lady bowed her thanks, then left. Make-up was almost immediately followed by the concierge who met her when she arrived.

"Byron has arrived at the beach bar. I'm to show you down there," he smiled.

"Thank you," Sara said, instead of asking why Byron didn't just do it himself. She did feel glamorous, though, walking along behind the well-groomed staff like a princess. Her dress was white, a sleeveless crew neck minidress, with low-heeled elegant white sandals. The dress was short, but not too short, and of course showed nothing at all of her cleavage. Elegant, sexy in shape, but with enough coverage that even her mother would approve. She wasn't wearing underwear, though, just in case Byron was unhappy with her dressed so conservatively. The bumps of her nipples were clear and she could lift the hem and give him glimpses of her shaved pussy if needed.

The concierge walked her into the sun and along the path to the expansive bar. Sara could see Byron wave and smile as he watched her walk from the entrance right across the other side of the bar to where he sat, closest to the ocean.

"You must forgive me," Byron said, standing and kissing her politely. "A gentleman would have collected you himself, but I wanted this moment - anxiously waiting to see what you chose to wear and then watching you walk glamorously toward me from afar. Forgive me my self-indulgence. Please?"

"Sure," Sara smiled, flattered.

"And I love your choice. Very elegant. Gorgeous."

"Really? I wasn't sure you'd like this one. It's not very revealing. I promise that I picked one that shows everything for dinner."

"No, this is even better. I didn't expect you would wear the see-through dress. Your tits look gorgeous."

"See-through?" Sara panicked. "No, it's not see-through."

"When you look at it inside maybe. Have you seen yourself in the light?"

"No," Sara said, looking down. "I can't see."

"Here, stand over there. I'll take a photo."

Sara went over to have her photo taken in full light. When Byron showed her the picture, she groaned. Her breasts were plain as day through there.

"Oh, god, I am so naive."

Byron just laughed. He was perfectly happy with the mistake.

"Before you sit down, come here?" Byron asked. He ran his hand discretely up the back of her dress, reaching wetness unimpeded.

"I like you without pants. Thank you."

"I tried the bottoms. They just cut up into me, not comfortable at all. So I gave up on them. And none of the shelf bras are white, but I wanted to wear this dress."

"You thought that people couldn't see your tits?" Byron teased.

"Hey, the one I picked for dinner is completely breasts out. I was trying to compromise with this one. I was hoping to get a photo at the bar I could send to my mother."

"Not in that," Byron teased. "If I'd given your tits hickeys, the world would know."

"I'm such an... inexperienced...," Sara blushed.

"No one is complaining. Don't worry. I've ordered a cocktail for us."

The waiter brought two drinks, a sea-foam sangria and a strawberry basil smash.

"I thought I'd get two different types, so you take a tiny sip of both, tell me which you prefer," Byron said.

"Ooh, definitely this one", Sara said choosing the strawberry smash. "I love it."

"Good."

Byron ordered some bites and they settled back at a comfortably friendly distance from each other on the soft beach lounge, sipping at the straws, soaking in the warmth.

"You were easier to fuck than I thought you might be," Bright said matter-of-factly.

"And you swear a lot more than I thought you would," Sara said in return.

Byron burst out laughing.

"Ah, yes, but you notice I only do that in private. A gentleman would never swear in public, but in private they should lead the way in beastly man-speak."

"Oh really?" Sara smiled.

"So why were you so easy to fuck? I'm curious," Byron said.

"I'm not usually," Sara sighed.

"Really? Then why now?"

"I don't know. I didn't think you'd do it."

"What do you mean?"

"I've wanted to stay at a place like this, all my life, and I knew I never would. Suddenly I get the chance to do it, and I think I would've hated myself forever if I turned it down. But I only said yes because I was sure you'd never actually do it. I thought I'd send that message back, and you would never reply and I'd never hear from you again. That way I wouldn't have to take my pants off for you, but also it wouldn't have been my fault for turning down the chance to stay at the Wayfarer if that makes sense?"

"Perfect sense!"

"So when you came back in a minute with the schedule... I was a bit surprised."

"A good surprise?"

"I guess I'll only know after it's all done. I feel cheap for giving up my body to get it."

"And will again, several times," Byron interrupted, smiling smugly.

"...and will give it up again," Sara sighed, "But I'm surrounded by all this opulence. I guess I won't know how I feel about it until later."

"You don't drop your pants very often? You feel big in there, like you've been done over a lot."

"It's been a couple of years. But.. the last time I had sex... it was pretty full on. Those guys stretched me permanently, I think."

"How old are you?" Byron asked.

"Twenty-two."

"Oh, what a great age."

"Why are you not married?" Sara asked, diverting from explaining too much about herself.

"I was. Of course."

"What happened?"

"I don't blame her," Byron shrugged. "She wanted kids."

"And you don't?"

"I can't."

"Oh really?" Sara said, suddenly brightening. That lifted a load of stress from her shoulders. "So there's no chance I'll go home pregnant after this weekend?"

"I'm afraid not. Does that make you feel better?"

"Oh," Sara laughed. "You're cruel! Cumming in me freely like that, I thought I was getting pregnant for sure. Why didn't you say?"

"Hey, I've got to have my fun, right?"

Byron smiled. "So you can relax and enjoy the sex more now?"

"Maybe. A little bit," Sara admitted.

"So my wife, we didn't know the problem was me for a long time. When I fuck, it feels right, I get super hard. My cum is a proper orgasm experience, but just not able to get a girl pregnant. You know, she was such a darling about it, didn't take a cent of alimony, signed away all her rights. It was a sad decision for her as well as me, but she was never going to feel whole if she didn't have the experience of childbirth. And she was fully functioning."

"Wow, that's a sad story," Sara empathized.

"Life's not generally tough on me," Byron gave perspective. "And it does mean I get this weekend with you. So let's look inward, not back, huh?"

"Agreed."

"And anyway, it makes the business less complicated. There are already enough nieces and nephews to fight over control of the business in the future."

They had one more drink at the bar, leaving on the dot of seven. Byron was a stickler for time. Dinner was at eight. He'd ordered a hair stylist to arrive in the room at seven-fifteen with strict instructions to be finished in twenty minutes.

"How to do it, sir?" the guy asked, understanding who was paying the money between him and Sara.

"However she wants. That dress will need to come off Sara. You can't pull that over your head after your hair is done."

Sara went to the walk-in robe, pulling off her dress and putting one of the beach robes over her nudity.

"Hair and dressed by seven forty-five please, you two. We leave the suite at seven-fifty," Byron politely requested before moving to the drawing room to look at his email.

"How do we do it?" the guy asked. "What would you like done?"

Sara could sense his urgency.

"I don't know," she said pathetically, wishing he might tell her what looked best.

"Up or down?"

Sara shrugged, feeling his anxiety. The guy took a deep breath.

"What are you wearing?"

"I'll show you," Sara said, leaping up to get it and holding it up to show. "This."

"Put it on."

Sara blinked.

"Let's see it on," the guy said shriftly. "Come on, you and I are on the clock."

Sara went back into the walk-in robe and did as told. The dress was a long halter, tied up behind her neck. The front cleavage plunged almost to her pussy. The back fell halfway down her ass, but as her legs were entirely covered to the ankle, it somehow looked elegant.

"My god," the hair stylist said, suddenly excited. "Perfection."

"Really?"

"Oh my god, come here quick, I know exactly what to do," the guy thrilled. "Come here, let me do your hair!"

Sat in the chair in front of the mirror, Sara smiled. With the energy of the guy pulling and twisting and brushing, her breasts were falling out of her clothes, more out than in - but the guy didn't once take a peek. He was entirely absorbed in his work. It reminded Sara of watching an ice sculptor frantically at work. When the final product stood in front of the king mirror in the bedroom, Sara didn't recognize herself. The hair was up at the back to accentuate her nudity behind, and a few loose strands fell cooly down at the front.

"Who is this?" she said out loud.

"The new you," the guy beamed, proud of his work. Now his work was complete, the guy happily drank in every bit Sara had exposed.

"I could tie this dress tighter maybe?" Sara suggested. "Look at how far it goes down at the back. My whole ass is out."

The guy laughed. It wasn't quite all, just most of it.

"Perfection. Don't you dare change a thing."

"You don't think I'll get in trouble walking around like this?"

"Where are you going for dinner?"

"The teppanyaki place."

"You'll be fine. No kids in there. We might find you a shawl for the walk through the hotel, though."

"It's too much right?"

"Your ass is gorgeous. Leave it like that. I'll find you some cover for outside."

There was an off-white, almost cream shawl with tassels in the walk in robe that suited perfectly. When Byron came in right on time, Sara had the shawl over her shoulders but open at the front. Byron smiled and nodded at the massive plunge, moving in for a closer look.

"I approve of your choice," he beamed. "Gee, if we didn't wax your pubes, they'd probably be showing. I love it."

Sara stood and let him gently push the material aside, exposing one of her breasts.

"This is going to be a nice dinner," he said happily. "Let's go. It's time."

With her shawl and elegant long dress, Sara floated through the hotel, aware of the glances her way.

"Who is she?" she heard someone whisper, it took every ounce of willpower for Sara to hold back from grinning.

When they walked into the restaurant and were shown to the seat at the counter in front of the teppan, Sara turned away to let him take her shawl.

Quite literally Byron almost fell over his stall.

"Holy fucking shit, Sara," he gasped.

"I thought you didn't swear in public," she teased.

"Well. Fuck. Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. Fuck. You are..."

"What?"

"Stunning."

"You told me to show my ass. You like it?"

"Ah, I tell you what, you sit here. I'm going to eat my dinner over there by myself behind you, and just check your ass out the whole meal."

"It's not my whole ass," Sara pouted.

"Fucking near enough."

"Sit," Sara told him. "Next to me, stop drawing attention."

"Not me drawing attention," Byron defended.

"Come on. There are breasts to see at the front. You're not missing out."

"I should get one of those spinning chairs for you, take turns on both sides."

"Sit!" Sara told him, grinning.

The meal was fantastic, and Byron was an accomplished conversationalist - which meant he was genuinely interested in Sara's thoughts on all manner of things. Some of them were philosophical, and some of them were in the gutter. They discussed the morals of the production process of the gorgeous meats they were eating, along with how Sara felt about the staff secretly taking photos as her breasts fell out of the material of the dress. They discussed the practicalities of stopping revenge porn from being posted across borders and the long-term impact the one-child policy had had on China and the environment.

"And why be a housemaid in the Wayklin?" Byron asked, not attempting to hide that he was openly looking at her breast that had fallen bare again, along with several staff and other customers. "I get that you love the place, but why housemaid? You'd be a big asset out front or in F&B?"

"I want to get into the rooms. Those roles in public spaces, anyone can walk through there anytime. But the rooms, the suites, the hallways, and back blocks, that's what's special. Being a housemaid gets me everywhere normal folk can't go."

"Hmmm," Byron said, taking in her perspective. "So you're enamored by the history of the walls and ceilings and carpet of the rooms... more than the people that use them. You usually go in when they are out and away from their room."

"Maybe," Sara smiled. "But it's difficult to connect with privileged people. I don't know what to say."

"We're talking," Byron said. "I don't feel you're awkward being here."

Sara sat straight and took a look around.

"Your sperm is in me, that gives a certain level of familiarity, don't you think?" Sara teased. "If anything, having money lets you be different."

"Yeah?"

"Look at us, old and young, no one seems to care. Look at me, I'm naked at dinner, no one seems to care. It's like when you've got wealth, you're allowed to be eccentric."

"Maybe," Byron nodded.

"None of these people in here will post our photo on Twitter, outraged at that old guy taking advantage, or that young tramp selling her pussy. They just let you be who you are in peace. They just do what they are doing in peace. No fake shock or disgust and outrage."

"No," Byron agreed. "None of that in here."

"Why? Why is outside so different?"

"I don't know. Any answer I gave would sound condescending."

Sara looked at Byron.

"Fundamentally you are a good person," she said.

"I hope so. Come on, let's have some hot sake"

"Hot? In summer?"

"You're right. Waiter, excuse me, have you got a good reishu?"

Those two stayed nibbling and drinking til closing. Sara walked home without her shawl and with Byron's hand mostly down the back of her dress.

"Do you suck cock?" he asked as he fumbled at the door for their room pass.

"I have before. But can we shower first?"

"Of course!"

"My pajamas, you probably won't approve. Do you have some of those chosen for me in the walk-in robe, too?"

"Ha," Byron laughed. "No. There will be no need for you to wear any pajamas. You will be naked in bed at all times, thank you."

"Okay," Sara smiled.

The night was as you would expect a new couple just starting to have sex together. Lots of kissing and lots of care and intimacy. Sara got on her knees in the shower to blow him, and Byron lay Sara back on the huge bed to suck her cunt. When he crawled up to sink his cock into her soaked pussy, Sara groaned from the nostalgia of tasting her own juices in her mouth for the first time in years, as much as the penile penetration. The fuck was long and passionate, almost meaningful. To look at those two, you would not have thought there was a transaction going on, or a debt being paid. They looked like they were into each other. It helped, too, that Sara could sleep easily after she had been cum in, knowing she wouldn't be pregnant.

(Part 2 of 3 will be submitted on Monday May 15, 2023 for approval. As it is a live series, any suggestions before then welcome!)