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AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s no way to hide it, this story is long. But please sit back and let it unfold. There’s a LOT of explicit sex (isn’t that why you read Literotica?) but things don’t heat up immediately. I don’t write “wham bam, thank you ma’am” stories. If you invest the time, you’ll find that the story will handsomely repay your investment. If you’re impatient, skip ahead and jump right into the deep end. Either way, thanks for reading. ?PS. This place is totally fictitious.
The scene before her was like a postcard. Carrie stared out at the ocean; the view from her second floor villa was beyond belief. The blue ocean waves gently lapped at the sand and the beaches glittered in the sunlight.
The gentle trade wind unceremoniously blew by as it delicately swirled over her naked skin. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath filling her lungs with the sweet, salt island air. After capturing the breath, she let slowly it out as if trying to soak in as much of the experience as possible.
Then again the thirty-one-year-old hadn’t seen much from the window of her two-story home back in Springfield so to her, being at any beach was a fantasy. What amazed her more than anything was that only six weeks ago she was reading about resorts like these in magazine articles and on web sites and today was the last day of her visit.
She remembers the shiver of fear and trepidation she felt when gave the travel agent her credit card number. Her heart raced but she signed up anyway and here she was.
Her extremely conservative life had been built around security and predictability. She was raised by parents who preached that sex was dirty and boys were bad. So her dating life was equally conservative. She always wanted to do more but couldn’t quite break out of her shell. Boyfriends were always “making moves” on her but she would push them away out of habit or parental-instilled fear rather than principle or morals. Mentally, she wanted to be like the “other girls” but physically she didn’t know how or where to begin and rather than facing her fears and giving into her desires, she shunned the advances and stayed buttoned up.
Her senior year of high school, Daniel had swept her off her feet. She loved her new sexual freedom more than the man. Nevertheless, they got married but soon realized the mistake. The mistake languished for seven unsatisfying years before they finally called it quits.
The next few years were nothing more than sporadic flings and unfulfilled dating efforts. The bar scene sucked, singles groups only yielded co-dependent mama’s boys and the internet wasn’t much better. Many of these men were unwed for clear and obvious reasons.
If she heard the words, “Come here often” one more time, she thought she would scream!
Fresh out of the shower, Carrie looked at herself in the mirror. Her body was well toned from working out her pent up frustrations at the gym; she was proud of her appearance. As she gazed at herself, she couldn’t help thinking that she wanted to do something daring and audacious – even reckless.
After all these years she needed to do something for herself. She needed to do something that no one would ever guess she was capable of doing. She needed to ignite the confidence and passion that she knew was lurking deep inside and begging to be released.
She kept going back to the article she read in Penthouse Magazine and on the ones on the internet about the new Lifestyle Resorts that were gaining in popularity.
Carrie reached for her robe.
Austin Adams was her best friend. She and Carrie grew up together – same neighborhood, same schools and same circle of friends. A few years ago she got entwined in a stupid romance. She met the idiot at a friend’s wedding, the sexual fling turned into a string of steady dates and the dates turned into him sleeping at her house almost all the time.
The stupid part was the guy was 31 years old, still lived at home with his parents. He was employed at Best Buy as a department manager and worked for video games, pizza and beer. Without noticing it at first, the guy was slowly moving his stuff over to Austin’s condo; first a Sony PlayStation 3, and then a few clothes. He would eat her food, watch her TV and rent three or four PPV movies a week on her cable bill.
Austin was proud of her education, career achievements, and independence, while this guy was proud of the fact that he could almost perfectly complete Guitar Hero’s Though the Fire and Flames on the hardest level and that he could party until 2am and still function at work the next day. There was an obvious incompatibility and maturity mismatch that was quickly bringing the relationship to an end. Then one day a Penthouse Magazine showed up in her mailbox with his name on it.
It wasn’t the content as much as his gall. When she confronted him about sending a magazine subscription to a house he didn’t actually live in, he said he couldn’t have poker oyna it sent to his parent’s house. They wouldn’t approve. It was at that point Austin realized that he was just mooching off of her like he was doing to his over-protective, coddling parents (that should have kicked him out of the nest long ago) and his so-called friends. This guy was a dead end and after only eight weeks, she called it off. She told Carrie the relationship lasted seven weeks and five days too long.
He really showed his immaturity when he called her a, “Uptight bitch,” as he gathered his things. She replied, “Don’t be late for dinner or you might get grounded,” then muttered under her breath, “You fucking mooch.”
A few more Penthouse Magazines landed in her mailbox before she got the great idea to call in an address change to the guy’s parent’s home. She wondered if he’d call her once his mom retrieved the magazine from the family mailbox in three to six weeks.
While at Austin’s house, Carrie grabbed one of the Penthouse copies still lying around and thumbed through it. “Austin, I can believe he had this mailed to your house without telling you.” The magazine itself wasn’t too bad. Nowhere near as classy as Playboy but not as graphically offensive as Hustler. “Why are you keeping these anyway?”
“I don’t know. I thought you might like them,” Austin laughed. “Just kidding, they’re kind of fun to look at, I guess. I’m going to toss them soon.”
Her eyes caught an article called “Vacation Naked – Twelve Places in Paradise to Get an All-over Tan”. There was a cute graphic next to the title of a dark-tanned naked cartoon woman with bright white tan lines. The cartoon lady had a red circle with a diagonal red stripe though it, like a no-smoking sign, and the words, “No Tan Lines” under it. The article was about the rapidly growing clothing-optional and hedonistic Lifestyle resorts that were popping up all over the world at a record setting pace. There were 12 listed and web sites where serious research could be done.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom.”
“With a Penthouse Magazine?”
“Why not?” She shrugged. “It’s not that bad. The chicks are kind of hot.”
“You’re not going to…you know…are you?” Austin gave her a funny questioning grin as she quickly rubbed her crotch with two fingers.
“You never know. If you hear funny groaning noises coming through the door…don’t come in,” Carrie joked as she darted off with a smile to the toilet.
When she returned she sat down next to Austin. “Look at this article and tell me what you think.”
Austin scanned the document. “What? Are you thinking about going to one of these places?” She kept reading then looked up, “Are you serious?”
“I don’t know. It might be fun, don’t you think?”
Austin shoved the magazine back at Carrie said with a huge grin. “I dare you.”
Carrie just sat there biting the corner of her lower lip.
“Ok,” Austin squinted her eyes and leaned forward, “I double-DOG dare you.”
Carrie threw on her favorite robe and flipped open the phone book. She dialed the number of the travel agency and waited for someone to answer. The minute someone picked up, Carrie almost slammed the receiver down. How was she going to describe the trip she wanted?
“Hello…hello…anyone there?” the receptionist kept repeating.
“Oh hello,” Carrie stammered, her heart pounding in her chest “Um, I need to talk to someone about booking a trip.”
“Hold please.” Click to on hold music.
“This is Darjeel, how may I assist you?” The voice of a nice, Indian woman was on the other line. Carrie paused wrangling up her courage.
“Yes, I want to book a vacation,” Carrie stammered.
“You called the right place. If you can give me some details of the type of trip you’d like to take, I’ll be happy to assist you,” said the friendly voice on the other end of the line.
“Well… I, uh… I’m not sure how to ask. I’m not sure where I want to go. I mean I know where I want to go but I don’t…” Carrie grimaced hard and continued to beat around the bush until Darjeel jumped in.
“It’s ok. I’m here to help. Why don’t I get some basic information from you first, like your name and address?” Her soft voice and delicate accent was very assuring.
“I guess that’d be a good idea,” Carrie recited her information. As she was spelling out her street name, she wished she could have done this anonymously. But she didn’t know where to begin and thus needed the help of a travel agent.
“Now that I have your information, what kind of trip are you looking for? Domestic, Sand and sea, European or…”
“Sand and sea,” Carrie interrupted.
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” The agent said happily, “Caribbean or Pacific?”
“Umm, this is that hard part. I’m not as concerned with that as I am…you see, I’ve never been… I’m looking for a…I want to try going to a…” Carrie stopped and almost canlı poker oyna hung up the phone.
After 10 years in the travel business, Darjeel was getting the drift and decided to help. “Ma’am, are you looking for a ‘specialty’ resort?”
“Yes!” Carrie stated firmly, glad for the assistance. “A specialty resort could be what I’m looking for!”
“Would you like the resort to welcome guests that would like the option of wearing, shall we say, very little or nothing?” Darjeel gently probed.
“Yes! I believe I would like that type of resort.” Carrie stayed quiet waiting for her agent’s continued assistance.
“Would you like the resort to limit the exposure to the beach or would you like one that welcomes nudity at most times in most places?”
“Um, at most…times,” Carrie’s mind was racing as she answered the questions and slowed her answers to avoid sounding overly anxious.
“One last question Ma’am, would you like a resort that allows public intimate interaction with other vacationers or one that allows it in only the privacy of your room?” To Carrie’s relief, Darjeel questions were very matter of fact with no judgment or surprise. But this question was tough to answer.
“I didn’t know there were resorts that actually encouraged interaction in, um, public,” she let her sentence trail off. She actually did know having read about them in the Penthouse article and online but the reality of being on the phone with a travel agent about to book one was a bit overwhelming and she needed some assurance.
“I assure you they exist and they are very popular. As a matter of fact, ‘Lifestyle Resorts’ are one of the fastest growing resort segment but there are a couple of varieties. Those that allow and encourage ‘public displays of affection’ and those that allow it only in areas like ‘playrooms’ or the hot tubs after dark.” Carrie was overwhelmed with the choices and her instinct to choose the mild version. But she was relieved as to how easy Dajeel was making it to continue. “So, which type are you interested in? Do you need some time to think about it?”
“No.” Carrie swallowed hard, squeezed her eyes tightly shut and answered, “No, I think I want to go to the one that…” She took a deep breath and gathered her courage “…allows public interaction…I think.” She paused, gathered her courage, “Yes public…that’s what I want.”
Immediately Darjeel said, “Thank you Ma’am, let me see.” The sound of keyboard clicking could be heard over the phone line.
While she waited, Carrie slipper her hand down between her legs and tugged at her pubic hair almost daring herself to go farther while on the phone with Darjeel. She accepted her own dare and wiggled her finger between the folds of skin that were the gateway to her vagina. Her toes curled as she felt her warmth and wetness. She was about to drift off when Darjeel came back on line and jolted her back to reality. She jerked her hand away as if she had actually been caught.
“Are you still there?”
Carrie cleared her throat and wiped the light mist of sweat from her upper lip. She could smell the soft feminine aroma of her wetness on her finger, “Um, yes.”
“I have three options that might interest you. There’s one in Roatan called Pleasures. It’s relatively new and I don’t know much about it other than it’s a small resort on a big private beach.”
Darjeel paused and clicked the keyboard on the other end of the line. “Desires is a great place with two locations – Cancun and Cabo. It’s all the rage right now. The biggest problem with Desire is that I don’t show availability until later in the year.”
“Lastly there’s one called Passions that has locations in Jamaica, Bahamas and Mexico. I have sent many people to Passions and have gotten wonderful comments and reviews from everyone that’s gone. Many people annually bounce around between the three resorts for variety. Are you near a computer?”
“I am.” She tapped the trackpad to wake up the laptop that was on her desk right in front of her.
“Go to Passions Romance Resort dot com, then click Jamaica and you’ll be able to see the place in more detail.”
Neither woman spoke while Carrie clicked the keys and anxiously waited for the site to load. The home page showed a cover shot of a gorgeous Caribbean resort that backed up to a fantastic white sand beach that met turquoise blue water.
Darjeel had done this so many times before she could tell what Carrie was looking and guided her by the sound of the keyboard clicks alone, “Click on the photo gallery on the left-hand side of the screen.”
All of the pictures of the rooms and facilities are shown without people in them. “What do you think?”
“It looks like a pretty nice place.”
“It is. And unlike some places, the pictures are really accurate,” Darjeel said stretching out the word ‘really’. “Now scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on the ‘Secrets of Passions’ logo.”
Click. A window opened that asked internet casino if the computer operator was 18 or older. She clicked yes.
Darjeel listened to Carrie click and browse without a word.
A photo gallery opened showing the resort beach, restaurants, rooms and other facilities. This time there were totally nude people in all of the pictures. They were drinking, sunning, kayaking, sitting in a huge hot tub and otherwise enjoying themselves.
Carrie softly muttered a quiet, “Oh wow.” The travel agent patiently waited while she kept clicking on the photos. “So, I would be…” Carrie hesitated as she clicked a photo to enlarge it, “… naked just like these people in the pictures?”
Darjeel silently chuckled to herself then said gently, “Yes ma’am. After all, isn’t that the point of places like these?”
Carrie felt stupid and embarrassed for asking that question and changed the subject, “So you said people go to these resorts all the time – even annually?”
“Absolutely Ma’am. As a matter of fact, in the interest of research, I’ve personally been to the one in Ocho Rios and can say, if you are looking for a ‘Lifestyle’ vacation, it’s first class and it stays pretty full.”
“You’ve been to one?” Carrie asked redundantly looking for a bit of last minute reassurance and confidence.
“Uh huh only once. It was for our tenth anniversary, and like I said,” Darjeel paused for effect and sincerity, “its first class and a very unique experience.”
Carrie was rapt with the images on the screen. The envisioned herself lounging in the warm Caribbean sun like the people in the pictures and wondered how much courage it would take. Then with a surprising amount of coolness, she softly said, “Darjeel?”
“Let’s book it. The one in Ocho Rios. I’d like to go.”
“No problem.” Darjeel clicked away on her computer. “Will you be traveling alone?”
“Oh,” Carrie grimaced thinking the questions were over. “Do I need a companion?”
“Only if you’re a male, which you’re obviously not. Men cannot visit the resort without the company of a female guest.” She emphasized the word female. “But women can attend single or with a male partner. Some might think it’s a little unfair but…”
Carrie understood the rule and actually found comfort in it and butted in, “No, I’ll be traveling alone – at least this time.”
After reciting her credit card information and writing down her confirmation number she hung up the phone. The room was silent. So silent that she could hear and feel her heart pounding deep in her chest. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins causing her hands to tremble. She raised her hands in the air and silently mouth the word “YES!” like she’d just won a foot race or scored a goal. She’d done it.
Coming off the rush of obligating herself to the trip, she felt light headed and a bit high. She reclined her home office chair and propped her legs up on the desk so she could still see her computer screen. Her robe fell open and she eased her hand down between her legs. She was impressed with her overwhelming wetness, her mouth formed a tight circle and her brow furrowed as she exhaled a long groaning, “Oh.”
She took a deep breath then stood up and let her robe fall to the floor. She sat back down in her office chair and leaned back. “Well I might as well get used to being naked,” she said out loud to herself.
The skin between the folds was soft, slick and very wet. There was no other place on the human body, male or female, that had the same warm, velvety feel. Often while masturbating she would explore its intricacies, both inside and out by touch alone.
She closed her eyes and ran her fingers around her labia then tugged at her lips. She gently pulled at them before running the tip of her finger around the opening of her vagina then plunged her finger deep into herself. The inner walls of her vagina were slick but not completely smooth. She had a slight texture inside that she found very intriguing. She pulled her finger out and ran it down to her anus and made small circles around the tightly puckered opening that was thoroughly lubricated from her vaginal flow.
She pulled her hand back up to concentrate on her clit. Her palm rested on the thick patch of dark brown pubic hair while her fingers wiggled, probed and stroked their intended targets. She could feel the wetness dribbling down between her butt-cheeks. The wet slurping sound was getting louder as her stroking quickened.
Carrie was swirling her middle finger over her well-lubricated clit when it hit her. Her propped up legs flexed lifting her ass completely off the chair. Instantly she curved her ring and middle fingers and slid them into her vagina so she could feel the repeated orgasmic contractions while carefully keeping pressure on her clit with the palm of her hand. It was a move she accidentally discovered, but in her world equated it to the accidental discovery of oil or gold.
Her orgasm amazing and intense, but to be fair it began brewing the instant she picked up the phone.
The phone rang and a female voice answered, “Hello?”
“Can I borrow your suitcase…you know that good Swiss Army one?”
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