The Caribbean sun, sand and sea can change the life of a girl from New York. Well, it changed mine. After what felt like forever, our flight from New York landed in the Caribbean. The last leg of the trip to the island was almost over. As we approached the landing strip from the sea, we flew over a coral reef, small boats and the pure, crystal clear blue water lapping the virgin white sand of the beach. Our small ten-seater twin-engine aircraft touched down smoothly on the tarmac. I looked at the smiling faces of my fellow passengers; they were young, beautiful, rich and eager to spend a lot of money to satisfy their pleasure lust.
Throughout the hour flight, the blond couple from the Netherlands sitting opposite me didn't care about the scenery. The man had his hand under her short dress and I could see his fingers pleasuring her clit. The two lesbians from Spain were holding hands and planting soft kisses on each other. The pale British couple showed a lot of class when they passed a champagne bottle around when we saw the island. She had her hand in his trousers pumping his very British prick. The American husband sitting in the back was moaning as his wife gave him what sounded like a very satisfying blowjob. The man sitting next to me was the handsome Thomas, a 27-year old lawyer taking a break before he starts his own practice. I liked his shyness and his lack of a spoiled rich kid's attitude.
I was getting hot with all the sex around me and I fidgeted with my long blond hair to prevent my hand from seeking my own love button. I am on this working holiday to relax after a very successful year in writing for the best travel magazine in New York. I covered American cities, hotels and business retreats. This would be my first assignment to what turned out to be a sex holiday resort and judging by my fellow passengers' attire and actions, I definitely did not pack the right clothes or the right attitude. I am here to write about how these rich people relax and enjoy themselves. But what about me?
The airport was a small building surrounded by tropical trees and undergrowth. We were quickly whisked away to a waiting bus and after a thirty-minute drive arrived at the resort. This beautiful 17th century style mansion catered for the ultra rich in every way. The foyer was tastefully decorated with artifacts from the past, with rare vases, gold trinkets, and carpets from the Middle East, satin from the Far East, cutlasses and even a ship's bell. Many claim that the sailors looted it after the earthquake that destroyed the town of Port Royal on June 7th, 1792 and brought it to this island. This was supposed to be headquarters of the legendary pirate Captain Henry Morgan.
The best decorations were the blond hunk and a sex goddess next to him behind the counter, welcoming all the guests. The girl with raven black hair and a tiny white string bikini introduced herself as Giselle and the hunk as Steve, who was wearing a skimpy Speedo. Giselle took the grinning Thomas by the hand and led him to his room while Steve escorted me to mine. The Speedo didn't hide the huge bulge and I felt a wetness between my legs and shame on my face. My body was reacting to the romantic surroundings, not to mention Steve's naked biceps in my hand.
He carried my luggage with ease up the stairs, unlocked the door and smiled when I saw the room. It was decorated like a 17th century pirate hideaway. The large poster bed dominated the room, with a Jacuzzi and bathroom to the left, a lounge and study area to the right that opened onto a terrace. Okay, maybe not the Jacuzzi. I imagined the lover of Captain Henry Morgan with her heaving bosoms in the arms of the handsome villain. I could see him ripping the flimsy blouse from her milky white breasts and plunging his hand and then his manhood in her wet love canal. The cry of a seagull brought me back from the romance novel dream. The view across the white beach towards the sea weakened my knees weak even more.
"I can force myself to live here for two weeks," I thought to myself. I wanted to tip Steve generously but he declined.
"You are our guest and we are here to serve you. Please feel free to ask whatever you want and it will be provided."
I thank him with a kiss. He pulled me closer to him and I felt his bulge getting bigger. At the door he turned around.
"One more thing, ma'am. Clothes are required only in the foyer and dining area but for the rest it's optional."
"Do you mean…?"
"Yes. You can go anywhere without your clothes."
"Naked?" Well, I didn't expect this. Don't the rich want to flaunt their wealth when they're having fun?
I quickly unpacked and returned to the foyer, still dressed in my New York business suit. Giselle was behind the counter. Her bikini bottom wasn't more than a piece of cloth that covered her mound. The string disappeared between her lovely tanned cheeks, giving the appearance from behind that she's not wearing anything. My juices dampened my panties even more. I had difficulty talking to her.
"Is there a shop where I can buy casual clothes? I came unprepared."
"The shops are closed today for a national holiday. But you don't have to wear anything."
"I'm not comfortable walking around in the nude. I still have some New York modesty left, you know," I said.
"You'll get over it," she said. "Maybe I can help you." Giselle moved into the office behind the counter, spoke to someone and came out with a large towel and a small bag,
Taking me by the hand she said: "Let me show you where you can have some privacy."
Giselle took me through the large doors leading to the pool area. The Spanish lesbians were frolicking naked in the pool. Their beautiful breasts bobbed up and down and their dark nipples pointed seductively at the mouths of their partners. The one girl had her hand between the other's legs, stimulating her. The pale British couple now stripped of their posh clothes, were looking in amazement at the two. The man sported a huge white erection while his wife had a silly grin on her face. I was shocked at the scene, but my panties were soaked with my juices. Something was happening to me that I couldn't control.
Giselle ignored them and led me further down the path to the beach. We walked over the lush green lawn were the American couple fucked and moaned like they enjoyed it. I felt my jaw drop as the woman moved on top to ride him like they're in the Kentucky Derby.
I had to remove my cheap $300 shoes when we came to the beach. Walking behind her, I had the perfect view of her long slender legs, her rolling ass cheeks and her covered sex between her legs. I wanted to jump on her, rip off the three pieces of obstruction and fuck her with everything I got. She suddenly stopped and I bumped into her. To prevent me from falling I grabbed her breasts and came close to achieve my fantasy. That was so unlike me.
