We flew out fifty days later, and I needed to visit a particular doctor for jabs and tests. I planned my exercise regime to get my body as buffed as possible and used the sunbed often. We met the other couple at the airport, and whilst the three women chatted non-stop, Tony and I eyed each other warily. After a few minutes of conversation, though, we were best buddies. We were about the same age, supported the same sports teams, did a similar job.
We were both looking forward to sunbathing with three hot women. We sat together on the flight, and Tony filled me in with the information on the resort that I didn't find on the Internet. The resort was very isolated at the end of a long beach away from a small town that provided staff (I did know). The USP of the resort was sex, pure, unadulterated lust (which I didn't).
There were supposedly two types of customers. There were the thirty-year-olds who were here for a second honeymoon before they decided to have kids. Grab some special memories to keep them together during sleepless nights to follow. Then there were the trophy wives and the business husbands. There was a state-of-the-art business centre for the guys to justify going away. The opportunity for the wives to show off their honed and bronzed bodies around the pool.
We also chatted about other stuff, but soon we were there, getting our bags from luggage reclaim and moving towards the driver with the hotel resort board. As it turned out, only seven of us were on the bus. Us five and a couple called Steve and Alice. The driver had some unfortunate news for us in that the air conditioning on the little bus was broken, but he could offer us open windows and rum punch by way of compensation.
He also suggested we rifle through our bags and select more appropriate clothing, so the four women collected some clothes and returned to the airport building to change. Steve claimed he was fine, and Tony and I were comfortable to slip behind the van to change from jeans into shorts. Changing our tops in the open air was fine, too. As Tony nodded about Steve and Alice, I realised they were the business guy, trophy wife combination.
Steve wore stuff for 'dress down Friday', and Alice was immaculately put together. They screamed money, and I was expecting them to be assholes, but they turned out to be lovely. They only lived ten miles away from me in a nice area. I was surprised as we boarded the bus. There was space at the back for luggage and three benches designed for two. A single seat was upfront with the driver, but it was facing backwards, probably for a tour guide to sit in.
I was sitting in that seat, but Steve stood on the front bench beside me. I was expecting Tony to claim that so we could continue to chat. The women returned, our three all identically dressed as Daisy Duke: short denim shorts, flip-flops and tiny bikini tops. I had hoped for a closer look, but Alice in a lovely sundress in the row behind was easy on the eye. We chatted for a while about this and that as we moved off. I was feeling tired from the flight and quickly nodded off.
When I woke up from a bump in the road, I noticed that Steve and Alice were making out behind me. They didn't care that Steve had his hand right up Alice's skirt, flagging her absence of underwear. He had two fingers in her pussy and his finger on her clit. Alice was close to coming. I faked keeping my eyes shut but could see the driver to my side. Not caring, they could see him adjusting his mirror to catch the action.
So I sat and watched whilst they carried on, fingers in and out until, with louder and louder moans, Alice finally came in a quiver. I'm sure Steve smiled at me as he made them decent again. Not long after, we turned off the main road for the resort through pretty chunky security gates. Steve told me that the resort took privacy very seriously, all the staff were carefully vetted, and nobody could get in without good reason. They, too, had stayed here last summer.
We got to the reception, where the staff checked us in and asked for our phones. They didn't like anyone taking photos, but we could use our phones in the business centre whenever we liked, day or night. They also asked for a urine test, which seemed odd, but I followed the flow. In no time, we were at the villa; our bags were there before us. Everyone else wanted to hit the pool straight away, but I needed a cold shower to cool off and to get rid of the hard-on from watching Alice come in front of my eyes.
It still felt strange, but from what Tony said on the plane, it seemed to be what the resort was about. So I showered, unpacked my bags, and put on one of my new speedos. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with the results of my last fifty days in the gym. My shoulders returned to my rowing days, and I had a four-pack. My colour was not white, the sort of tan for the third day. I'm not chiselled, but suitable for an office worker, which most guys here were.
I was still struggling with what happened on the bus, though. I remembered Tony talking about the resort being about sex and unconsciously licked my lips. If I got to have sex with June, then that would be a great outcome. Or Zena, for that matter. Or since they shared a room, both together. Maybe Alice if that didn't work out. A hard-on started to make its presence felt as I walked outside to join the others, which in the new trunks I had purchased was a bit of a problem.
I walked outside into the sun and took in the villa's luxury. The two more oversized bedrooms were on either side of a thin patio with an outside table and chairs with a hammock and a hot tub at the end. The area opened up once past the bedrooms to a sun terrace with loungers and some cubes. Beyond that was the pool. The other four were in the pool, down two steps from the loungers. They waved, and I waved back, feeling a bit of an idiot for waiting.
Melanie got out of the pool like Ursula Andress in the Bond film. All dripping water and tiny bikini. I was shocked as it was the smallest one I had ever seen. There was more string than material. She called out to me as she grabbed a towel and flicked off the worst of the water on her. This mostly, though, made her nipples erect, and I wondered if it was deliberate. I had not talked to Melanie (Tony's wife) at the airport; she seemed keen to chat now.
I stood there with my mouth agape, lotion listless in my hand, whilst Melanie finished wiping off most of the water from her body and grabbed the lotion out of my hand. She took a dollop and told me I needed to do her back and legs later, and she would do the same for me. The sudden memory of Zena hurriedly questioning me in a bar popped into my mind. During this thought exchange, Melanie told me that lotion to the parts under your costume was as essential as those above.
This involved a large dollop to her right breast and playing with her nipple well after it was fully erect. I took the bottle back and started on my arms and face, now sure this was some test for me. Unfortunately, I didn't know the rules or the expected outcome. I just knew I could not fail. So, I paid close attention to what Melanie did and followed that. We quickly covered the parts within reach, the bits not included in the quid quo pro.
Melanie decided I would go first, which was a relief given the precarious state of my speedos. When I tried them on, a full-scale boner was not part of my expectations but perhaps my hopes. I lay on the nicely padded sunbed, very comfortable, looking away from Melanie's standing, hoping for some relief. Melanie's response was to grab the stool and follow my head around. She sat right in my vision, too close for comfort and spread her legs wide.
She then fiddled around with her bikini before starting a dollop of lotion on my left shoulder. Moving from left to right and then down, she covered my back. Each dollop needed a slight forward movement of the stool, and by the time she was down to my trunks, her right knee was pressed into my side, the left by my head, and her bikini trunks a few inches from my face. Leaning forward with a healthy dollop, she reiterated the need to cover under the costume.
Leaning forward to halve the distance from my face, She lifted the waistband of the trunks with one hand and slid the other inside. For the next five minutes, she caressed my ass, rummaged in the crack (thankfully pristinely clean) and even grazed my ring piece with her nails. She tried reaching for my ball but was blocked by my legs being tight together. With a big smile on her face, she told me to get up and then focussed entirely on my hard-on, which I was trying hard to hide.
In a few seconds, she took my place on the sunbed and did that trick women do with the strings. This left her back lying upwards, totally naked apart from an inch-wide strip covering her ass-crack. I started in the top left corner, sitting on the stool as Melanie had done. I worked my way across and down her back in sweeping movements, keeping my hands tight to where they should be. When I got close to a side, she rolled up to mainly expose her breast, which I ignored.