What Happens at the Nudist Resort..

The more demanding, yet arousing, part was shaving between her legs on either side of her pussy lips and all the way back to the bottom of her butt-cheeks. There was skin that had to be stretched and flattened to avoid nicking the girl in her most sensitive of areas, and the topography of her body was curvy and, in some places, offered not a lot of room to operate with the razor. However, Mark was systematic and patient in nature, and he took his time to ensure that he didn't cut Julie or leave rough stubble. As he began to work up close to her slit, he couldn't help but applying pressure that was sensual and pleasurable for Julie.

Mark attempted to make small talk in case Julie was finding the process awkward and embarrassing. "So what made you volunteer? The two of us aren't exactly the nudist camp type." He added the second sentence to make certain that it did not sound like he thought Julie was uniquely out of place.

"I don't know? ... I'm having a man I only know from work shave my most intimate of body parts, maybe I am the nudist camp - roman orgy - hedonist type deep down." She said in jest. "Seriously? ... I think I was hoping for an adventure that would shake up an otherwise boring life. Sometimes, when such adventures still seem far in the future, I think I will have fun doing them- only to find out that I'm not as daring as I thought. When we had to get naked in Gen's office, I knew I was going to have a tough time, but I didn't have the nerve to drop out - particularly when she picked me knowing I was nervous, shy, and uncomfortable with my body. But, I'm glad I did it." Julie said. "How about you; why did you come?"

"I don't want to have to look for another job in this crap economy. Besides, there are only two of us that could fill this slot, and Roger has a new baby, so there was no way he could make it. I guess I was a little excited about it as well. You don't usually get to come to the beach for work." Just as he was finishing his sentence - and nearly with the task of shaving Julie - his index finger slipped breaching her pussy lips and glancing off her clit.

"Sorry about that." Mark said, but he had noticed how she excitedly inhaled when his finger grazed that sensitive spot, and that she was sopping wet. He had known that she was getting wet because when she splayed her knees wide, he saw the glistening moisture, and, as he applied pressure to tighten the skin to the side of her pussy, he could hear the faintest sound akin to lip-smacking. But he had no idea that she was this ready. The truth was that he had gotten aroused himself by working so tantalizingly close to her sex. However, he didn't think she could see because there was an open space below the countertop on which Julie lay, and with him working so close to the edge, his erection was hidden below.

"I'm not. Would you mind doing that again?" Julie asked as she moved her hands down and rested them on the insides of her thighs. If he wouldn't, she was certainly going to touch herself. She was too horny now to restrain herself. "I'm really sorry. I got so horny. This is a little embarrassing."

"Don't be sorry. You're not the only one." He backed up a couple steps so that she could see that his cock had become rock hard. Then he moved back toward her, and kissed her softly on the mouth as he let a fingertip massage the tip of her clit. She let out some light, almost involuntary, moans as he worked the most sensitive portion of the organ below the hood of her clit. He then moved down toward her legs, and guided himself under and to the inside of the leg that was closest to him. He then let her hook the crook of her knee over his shoulder. He then pivoted her to get her pussy as close to the edge of the countertop as possible, and guided her other leg so that the crook of it went over his other shoulder. He had gone to one of his knees so that his mouth was in the right position to kiss Julie's hot willing pussy. He ran his tongue up her pussy, working it as deeply into her vaginal canal as he could, and then began to suck on her clit. She was so ready, and in no time her hips were beginning to bounce rhythmically on the countertop as she lost control in an intense orgasm.

Depending upon your perspective, it was either perfect timing, or the worst timing imaginable. As Julie was still winding down from her climax, Josh in from his "meeting" with Genevieve and called to see if Mark were in the bathroom or on the balcony - the only parts of the room he couldn't see immediately. "Mark, are you here?"

Mark looked up, face glistening from Julie's juices with some little hairs mixed in, and responded so as to preempt any attempt to bust in on them. "Yeah, just a minute, I'm using the john." Julie had already scrambled to a seated position.

Mark wrapped a towel around himself mainly because, while he was losing his hardness quickly, he was still semi-erect. Then he began to move toward to the door, urging Julie out of sight. He was planning to run interference as he had promised he would.

"Hey." Julie called in an urgent whisper. As Mark turned to face her, she grabbed a washcloth and toweled off his chin and cheeks where her clear viscous fluid and its perfume clung to him. She smiled, and motioned for him to go.

"What's up?" Mark said as he entered the room, but before he could say anything else he was mortified by Josh's response.

Josh clapped an open palm against his co-worker's shoulder and said in a hushed tone: "You old dog you. So who do you have in there? Julie?" Josh's experience of college had given him a couple of occasions to learn what it meant when a roommate came out of a room wearing a tented towel, guarding the door like it was Fort Knox, and occasionally glancing back nervously. Josh might have guessed that Mark was 'giving himself a hand' so to speak, but for a feint odor that Josh seemed to be genetically predisposed to pick up in a blood-hound-like fashion. "I just came back to grab some deodorant and my little pack with business cards. If you would be so kind as to grab my toiletry kit, I will be out of your hair in a flash." Josh said.

Mark spun and went into the bathroom really quickly, grabbed the bag -startling Julie slightly in the process, and took it to Josh.

"Thanks. I hear the bar closes at 1:00. I'll be there until then. If you need more time, make sure you put out the 'do not disturb' sign." Josh said.

"Thanks, man. That would be excellent. I'll be done by then." Mark dropped any pretense of denial. He was elated, and hoped Julie would be too. He looked at the alarm clock. He and Julie would have the better part of four hours, if they needed it.

"Oh, did you bring any of these, young man?" When Mark sheepishly shook his head, Josh handed over a couple condoms from a box that was in his toiletry kit. "Later." With that Josh dropped the toiletry kit on his bed, and was off.

Mark returned to the bathroom wrapping at the door first, and this time Julie gave no impression of being startled. Mark dropped the towel and embraced her, his erection quickly rebounding.

"Is he still out there?" Julie asked.

"Yeah. What, precisely, is your position on ménage a trois?" Mark asked in jest.

Julie went through two distinct states of mind in the microsecond that it took her to realize that Mark was kidding. First, she was terrified out of pure instinct. Then a shudder of thrill ran through her, and it made her hot. She decided to play along by saying the first naughty thing that came to her mind. "Is Carmina going to be joining us, because I could really get onboard with that?" Julie asked in a manner for which it would be difficult for Mark to judge the veracity.

"Pace yourself, it is only the first day. And, besides, your spa treatment isn't over yet." Mark turned on the shower. Little hairs remained sticking to Julie's soft milky skin despite his efforts to get most of them off by brushing her skin with a hand towel. He hoped he would get suntan lotion duty over the course of the week, because she would need a lot of it with that pale skin. He stepped into the tub, and offered her a hand so that she could follow him. He took the hand-held showerhead in hand and rinsed the front of her pelvis. He watched the stubble slide across her skin then drop with the droplets to the shower pan where they were pulled in a curved arc toward the drain. That was how slowly time proceeded as he enjoyed ever instant of the experience.

Julie put one leg up on the wall of the tub and allowed him to rinse between her legs. Which he did, using his free hand to brush away the loose stubble and feel the fresh smoothness of the skin between her legs. By now all trace of loose hair had vanished. Her knees nearly buckled under the combination of his hand's rubbing action and the pounding spray of the showerhead. She began to stroke him softly, and then she washed his cock and scrotum with gentle care. Then she took the showerhead and rinsed him. They kissed a while, getting progressively more eager and less in control as time ticked by.

They toweled each other off, but without the will to be thorough. Both were still a little wet from the shower when they collapsed in a tangle onto Mark's bed. He ran his fingers through her wet hair as they kissed, and as he kissed her neck. He then turned his attention to her magnificent orb-like breasts, and began to use his mouth on her hardened thick nipples to give her pleasure. She ran her hands all over his body, occasionally loitering on his cock.

Then Julie eased him from his side over onto his back, and positioned herself on her knees to return his earlier favor by satisfying him with her mouth. Fellatio was not something that Julie was endeared to, but she knew men liked it and was eager to make a good impression with Mark. Her boyfriend had been too aggressive during blowjobs, and she often ended up choking and gagging as he grabbed her head and forced his member deeply into her throat. She had wanted to please her boyfriend as well, but couldn't get into rough sex like he did. That was what he had meant about being bored. He had wanted someone who was into an entirely different experience of sex.

Mark, on the other hand, sweetly twirled one of the curls of her bangs, and occasionally tenderly swept a lock of hair out of her face. As a result, Julie's experience with oral sex this time was considerably different. She began to understand how the power to give pleasure could be intoxicating, and how it could make a person unrestrainably aroused. This time it was not just something to suffer through, to get done and over. Not even as she got a little pain in her jaw was she dispirited - spurred on by the pleasure that showed in Mark's sounds, in his tumescent hardness, and in his tensing muscles, she sucked him until he said that he was 'going to cum'. As she took her mouth off his cock and stroked with her hand, he shot a milky geyser up in the air whose tip landed on his own chest between his pecks, and it was followed by a couple progressively less impressive shots. Julie had never seen so much jizm, and knew that Mark, like herself, must have been undersexed. This was a welcome sign because she was ready for more, and hoped he soon would be as well.

Mark, indeed, did not require too much of a break before putting the first of Josh's gifts of rubber to good use. At midnight an elated, contented, and weary Julie returned to her own room, where Genevieve was still working on her laptop. Genevieve noticed that Julie was clean shaven, but, figuring it could only be a good sign, did not ask about it. On subsequent occasions the new couple would use the second condom, and a third, and a fourth. Over the course of their time in Mexico they eagerly awaited the workday to be done so that they could yield to their yearnings.

Malia felt some sense of obligation to look out for her roommate. Not because her job called for it, nor even because Genevieve would be pissed if she let something happen to the girl. Instead, it was because she had a soft-spot for Carmina, who was sweet and kind, and because Malia understood that there was a curse as well as a blessing in being gorgeous. Many scoffed at the idea of a 'curse of being beautiful' saying it was as ridiculous as a 'curse of being rich'.

Well, there was a 'curse of the rich', and it was that everybody always wanted something from you, and it was not always easy to know who your true friends were. It was much the same for a gorgeous girl. Boys always wanted something, the girl's virtue to be precise, and it was not easy to see who cared about you, and who was just trying to achieve conquest. A pretty girl can become prone to any number of afflictions as a result, from being so callous and cavalier that she misses out on opportunities for good relationships to becoming too eager to please out of a confusion of love and sex. Malia may not have been as magnificent as Carmina, but in her day she was the sweet-faced buxom girl that all the boys wanted to possess.

Furthermore, Carmina did not seem to handle her alcohol particularly well, and that was a siren call for eager young men. The two women sat at the resort's bar on the beach, and Carmina was showing her infatuation with the bartender. Malia had to hand it to the girl for not being subject to 'beer goggles' - at least not in a physical sense, the barman was genuinely handsome. In fact, he was the handsomest man in the popular open air drinking establishment. He was a dead-ringer for the ubiquitous suave Latin pool boy of pornographic movie fame.

The problem was that there was something not quite right about the young dispenser of drinks. Malia was pretty certain that he kept telling his chubby unkempt friend at the opposite corner of the bar about how he was going to get Carmina into the sack, but there was more to it than that. Malia couldn't put her finger on it, but he seemed Janus-faced. He sweet-talked Carmina, but was getting edgier and angrier when addressing Malia and he treated the waitresses and his barback like crap. Furthermore, the way his friend kept eyeing Carmina, Malia wondered if the barman had promised a good old-fashioned gang bang.

It did occur to Malia that she might be projecting from a time long in her past when she was the eager-to- please tipsy girl who had been eager to please the wrong guy, and ended up pleasing his five friends as well. She remembered waking up so sore and violated. The memories had come back only gradually, but with visceral terror - particularly that moment at which the events of the evening had cascaded out of her control. During the subsequent days spent mostly in a haze, while waiting to find out whether she was pregnant , had VD or both, she swore not to let anything like that happen again. Maybe the bartender was increasingly hostile to Malia because she was subconsciously increasingly hostile to him.

No, he was hostile because Malia was the sole barrier to his fun and games - Malia was growing certain of it. She felt intuitively that this man was not out for romance. He wanted to take Carmina, to possess her, and to defile her. Malia had a sense for the type of man the bartender was. He was pissed off at his place in the world, and how there were others, women nonetheless, who were so much more successful than he. That Carmina was beautiful was probably just a secondary benefit. Tonight she could play the role of the manager who told him to sweep up, the guest who told him to put her bags in the car- even though that was not his job, or, perhaps some wealthy townswoman, who might be dominating him as her lover. Tonight he could tell that girl symbolic of so many others when to suck him, when to bend over like a dog for him and how many of his friends she would have to service before she could go home. She wouldn't do anything about it because she would be too drunk to remember (possibly too drugged - who better to deliver a roofy than a bartender), and to humiliated to let anyone know what she had done. "Oh, Alejandro, you are so sweet." Carmina said in a sultry but slightly slurred voice in response to a smooth compliment delivered by the young man.

Then he moved in close to whisper in Carmina's ear. "I would like to get to know you much better. You should come to my place. My friend, Hector, can give us a ride when I get off in ten minutes." The bartender, Alejandro, said.

"It'll have to be a threesome. I can't leave my friend, Malia, here alone." Carmina said, using the term "threesome" in its neutral sense, but neither Alejandro nor Malia understood it that way.

Malia could see the wheels begin to turn in the bartender's head. If Malia had been drunk as well, and / or not watching over Carmina like a hawk, he would certainly have said yes in a heartbeat. Two spoiled American bitches were better than one, and Malia was not without feminine appeal. However, as things sat, he was trying to find a way to separate Carmina away from her overseer, but to not create the impression he was rude or hostile to the friend in the process. Before he could concoct a response, Malia beat him to the punch.

"Carmina, I don't think that is going to work out. I'm pretty sure that if I participated in a threesome, Mr. Johnstone would divorce me, and then he would catch a flight down here and punch right through Alejandro's beautiful face and into his brain. I also think that you can't go anywhere with Alejandro tonight because you don't have any clothes on, dear. Besides which, our meeting with THE OWNERs is pretty early in the morning tomorrow. I think we need to say, 'goodnight, Alejandro.'"

"It sounds like your friend is not interested, but you don't need any clothes - we will not be out in public. If it will make you more comfortable, I will also go nude." Alejandro was not willing to give up just yet because he was now psyched up for this. Even the stentorian reference to meeting with the owners was not enough to curtail his efforts.

Malia leaned over the bar. "Alejandro, this ain't happening, and, trust me, you don't want to fuck with me. Come on, Carmina, let's get you to bed." Malia said the first part in a determined whisper, and the part to Carmina in a more conversational voice. The conversation was ended.

Carmina let out a sigh, but let herself be led away by Malia. "Malia, he was so cute." Carmina said once they were out of the bar.

"He wasn't any good for you. Who knows what he and his friends had planned." Malia retorted.

"I know. I know... Thanks for watching out for me, cause I was almost considering going. I know it would have been a bad idea. There was something not right with that guy and even more with his friend, Hector. Besides, I think I'm going to start dating someone back home." Carmina punctuated her statement with a friendly kiss on Malia's cheek.

"It's OK. You just need some sleep." Malia said, unperturbed, as she let them into their hotel room. She realized that Carmina was less drunk and more sensible than Malia had thought.

"But I'm not tired; I can't sleep once I get revved up like this. So what's it like with a black man?" Carmina asked as she laid on her side across one of the double beds while resting on one elbow with the side of her head placed in the palm of her hand. It was a sloppy version of a pose she might assume if she were modeling for a photographer - coy yet seductive. With her free hand she swept her hair back over her shoulder.

Malia considered saying "What is what like?", but she knew exactly what the "it" was to which Carmina was referring. "A man is a man; it's like with other men." Malia said, hoping to short-track the conversation.

"Really, I heard they were much bigger. Have you been with men who weren't black? Maybe you just don't have a point of comparison. I've never been with a black man. I've been with Latinos, Whites, and a Japanese guy once. So are they really that much bigger?" Carmina rambled her way full circle.