Rita - Gulf Shores
Exhibitionist & Voyeur Story

Rita - Gulf Shores

by Nightlyseducer 18 min read 4.7 (6,300 views)
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I know it was terribly risky, but that also made it very exciting, so I choose a chair -- a lounger, really -- along the far side of the pool and dropped the luxurious towel I'd gotten from the basket near the entrance to the pool across it. There were two pools, one for families with kids that had a shallow wading area, and the main one probably fifty by twenty-five yards and running from three feet to a little over six feet in depth. That didn't preclude children or families, of course, but there seemed to be a reasonable amount of self-selection.

I stretched out the towel over the lounger and slipped off my coverup. Having already applied the sunscreen while in the room, there was little more for me to do than slip off my shoes, stretch out, and enjoy the sun's warm caress. I'd opted for the Neon Palms with Triangle top and Malibu Micro bottom; despite its name, the Micro actually covered more of me that the Tiny bottom did. Go figure! Laying on my back, hat pulled down shading my face and sunglasses, I could spy on the eyes spying on me. It tickled me that there were more than a few.

By the time I had been lying there for fifteen minutes, the crowd on the pool deck doubled, mostly guys in two's and three's sitting around with drinks and eyeing the women around the pool. I was pretty sure that was a result of the convention's afternoon sessions having concluded. I recognized a few faces from the earlier sessions, but instead of giving me reason to remain obscure it made me feel naughty. Stretching, I doffed my sunglasses and hat and walked casually to the edge of the pool and took a seat putting my feet into the water. The mix was decidedly in my favor; there had to be fifteen or twenty guys to every woman poolside, and if you discounted the one's definitely with a guy already, the "available" ladies had lots of eyes on them. Tony always reminds me

NOT

to discount the married or attached ones, even those playing with their kids; guys aren't thinking with their brains. There's still a Neanderthal in every male psyche simply thinking about basic sex at every opportunity and sure he could displace any other male as the alpha.

Truth was, I wasn't competing with anyone; there wasn't going to be any sex and no one was replacing Tony. I was scratching an itch, it made me feel good to be wanted, to tease, and yes, to expose my body. I'd suppressed that for years, thinking that's not how wives and mothers are supposed to think or behave, not how a woman was supposed to act, and that wanting,- seeking - , the attention was wrong. Honestly, the Romance novel industry shatters that myth every day, year after year, and while most women who enjoy that genre will tell you it's just escapist fantasy, every one has the desire to be wanted, desired, and swept up in the fantasy. The housewives who made the Fifty Shades series a best seller may not walk around in the bikini I was now wearing, but they wish they could -- and that naughty things were part of their lives too! I'm thrilled that it's a very important and recognized part of my life, and that Tony and I can share it. Women have libidos, we (society in the Western world) just put such onerous constraints on it and hideous labels on women who act on that.

Suddenly angry, and proud, I slipped into the water and swam the length of the pool until I reached the steps on the far side. I stood, shook my head and pushed my hair back, then strode up the steps and walked -- no, I sauntered -- three-fourths of the way around the pool deck back to my lounger. I bent, ass toward the pool, and straightened out the towel, then lay back down on my back arranging my hat and sunglasses.

My one concession was that before I exited the water I had made sure my bottom hadn't moved too much and that none of the lady parts were exposed. Well, not obscenely anyhow. I have long, delicate butterfly wings "down there," and in such a smallish bottom, even if you tuck everything in to begin with, there's always a chance that there will be some exposure. Being unlined and moving at all produced a clear cameltoe, and as I only shave around my labia, with this bottom there was definitely some hair visible along the top. By the time I took my seat, I knew I had plenty of attention -- and a few scowls from the more "proper" women.

"Anything to drink, ma'am?"

I turned to find a very cute barhop in khaki shorts and a hotel logo polo shirt bending over me.

Oh, what the hell. "Whiskey. Irish. Neat." I replied, pulling my sunglasses down to get a better look at the young man. The nametag said "Bradley."

"Yes, ma'am. I be right back," and he was gone. I hoped the room keycard worked as a charge card too, as It was all I had brought with me. Tony usually took care of all this when we were on vacation, charging it "to the room," and I had honestly just never paid attention.

Bradley was back pretty quickly, sliding a little wicker table next to my lounge as he appeared. "Your Irish whiskey, ma'am," he said as he set the glass down on the table within easy reach.

Acting confidently, I handed him my room key and said, "Put it on my room, please."

"No need. It's taken care of, ma'am" and he started to turn.

I grabbed his wrist. "Bradley, please stop with the ma'am stuff. I'm Rita."

"Yes, ma'am. Ah, Rita..." giving me a strange look as I still had hold of his wrist.

"My drink is taken care of?" I asked, taking off my sunglasses but not releasing my grip.

"Yes, ma...Rita. That gentleman..."

I tugged at him, "Don't turn and don't point, please, Bradley," I smiled. "Squat down here, please, and just let me know who it was that bought me this drink."

Bradley did squat, but again began to turn his head, "it was that..."

"Bradley?" I said in that motherly tone. He looked me in the eyes. I let go of his wrist and took my drink.

"Sorry," he said instinctively. Use the right tone and a man will apologize without even knowing what he did wrong.

"It's fine. I just don't want him to know I know who he is," I smiled as coyly as I could, then winked.

Bradley smiled too. I took a sip.

"Mmm. Jameson's?"

Bradley smiled again. "Yeah. You know your whiskey," still looking at my eyes. Mostly; the unlined top had a couple of bumps drawing his eyes too.

I smiled back, running my finger over the back of his hand that laid on the edge of the lounge where I let go of it. "I do. Lots of other things I know too..." I purred. I slipped my glasses back on with the other hand, still running little circles on the back of his hand. "So, who is my secret admirer?"

"Just about straight across the pool and to the right. Ah, I mean, left. Your left.... The table with the green umbrella and three guys?"

I grinned. "There are two tables with green umbrellas, and both have three guys at them."

"The three guys in suits..."

Drug reps. Lady-killers. Sales guys who think they can talk anyone into anything. Or out of anything! These pharma companies hire for looks and brains, or at least charm, though they have to learn a ton of information about their own products and the competition's. They were probably here manning the company booths in the trade show portion of the convention.

I took another slow sip, savoring the whiskey I'd grown up drinking. It was good, familiar, reassuring.

"Uh-huh," I looked back into Bradley's eyes. "which one?"

"Light blue shirt..., with the orange and blue striped tie?" he intoned, asking if I had narrowed my search.

"Hmm," I said as I took another sip.

"Bradley?" I turned all my attention back to him. "Thank you," I placed my hand over his. "Just one more thing..."

"Sure."

"Is there a place around where I lady could, um, get a more complete tan?"

He looked confused for a couple seconds. Then his mouth partially opened as comprehension lit up his thoughts. "Uh, like a tanning booth?"

I smiled and slid my glasses to the edge of my nose so he could clearly see my eyes. "What fun would that be? I was thinking more... outside?"

His eyes literally left mine and scanned me slowly down to my feet and back up to my own playful eyes. I could almost see the thoughts of his eighteen or nineteen year-old brain. He definitely liked women!

"Ahhh, some of, ahh, our European guests.... the beach, to the left, there are about a dozen lounge chairs and umbrellas.... Kinda down a bit... You could, ah, go topless there. Ah, I mean..." he blushed.

"Topless would be nice, don't you think?" I stared into him. His eyes went to my chest, then back to mine. He just nodded.

"I could still get a drink down there, couldn't I?"

He nodded again. More pleading than statement he added, "I could make sure you got anything you needed..."

I looked very conspicuously at the tent in his shorts, then back at him and winked. "I'm sure you could, Bradley. But it would be just drinks, I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't want me stealing you away."

He stammered, "No she..., I, um, no I didn't mean, uh..." he looked horrified.

I smiled and placed my hand over his. "Yes you did, but it's fine. I'm very flattered."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he rattled, still flustered.

"Bradley, really, it's fine. There's no problem and I'm not going to report anything to anyone." I shook my head and smiled.

"I should, uh, I should go." He stood and rearranged the front of his shorts as unobtrusively as possible.

"Thank you," I smiled holding up my glass. "Maybe you'll see me tomorrow?"

He blushed and walked off to take other guest's orders.

I took another long sip of the Jameson's, glancing across the pool. The three men were watching me and talking amongst themselves. Somehow, I was sure it was about me, - or what they wanted to do to/with me. I loved teasing and taunting, but just had an inexplicable dislike for them. Perhaps from interactions I had at the office with other sales reps, or maybe one of them reminded me of someone I'd known and couldn't quite recall.

I drew my legs up and put my feet on the outer edges of the lounge, knees apart. Yep, lots of nods, stupid grins, and glances at each other and at me. I sat up, put my feet on the ground on either side of the lounge and swallowed the rest of the drink. They were grinning like Cheshire cats though I was the one in control of what they saw, the one running the show. Rising and turning my back to them, toward the plant covered wall that ran the length of the pool deck, I readjusted the suit bottom to be sure my labia were inside the bottom edge, and a little more pubic hair showed at the top. There'd be no doubt in their minds. I turned and strode around the pool to stand in front of them.

From where I stopped, I could almost see them drooling, still rather cocky.

"Which of you do I have to thank for the drink?" I smiled sweetly.

"That would be me," smiled the slightly older of them. With a knowing glance at the other two he added, "but I think we're all grateful, just to have you come over here to say hi." None of them were very discreet about their eyes roaming over me.

Okay, there was that something I still disliked, but my body adored the looks.

"I'm Karl," the drink buyer said, "how were you thinking about thanking me?"

I let a little grin turn up the corners of my mouth. "Are you going to invite me to join you, or do you just want me to stand here and let you stare?"

The older guy chuckled, "That's' a kinda tough choice," as he looked me over.

"Well then," I said, and turned to face the pool, my ass now two feet from the closest of them and uncovered except for the tiny triangle that joined the hip straps to the single thin strap that disappeared between my glutes. I took another step and turned back to them.

"Does that make the choice easier or harder?" I smiled wickedly, running the fingers of my left hand over the top edge of my bikini bottom to focus their attention on the pubic hair curling out there.

"Definitely harder," said the one on the right.

"Yeah, harder for sure," added the one on the left laughing at his own pun. Even in their suit pants, I could see the appreciative responses of the wingmen.

The guy on the left finished his grinning and now sat there with his mouth slightly open intently staring at my bottom, I think trying to engage his x-ray vision to see how much pubic hair I had - and the rest of my pussy as well. None of the suit was lined, so they all were getting a pretty well-defined idea of that area anyhow. The abstract patches of color on the suit only hid so much, the fabric itself being so thin that it looked painted on.

"How long you been married?" I asked the distracted young man.

He looked up at me with a blank look.

"Married. How long?" I asked again, waving my left hand and my rings in front of his face, and then pointing to the band on his left hand. My wedding band and the engagement ring Tony had given me long ago were always on my hand proudly.

He went bright red.

"You all need to call your wives, and tell them what a bore this convention is, and how you're just sitting in your room watching TV," I said as I looked at each face. Only the oldest guy returned my gaze, the other two had their eyes down.

"Thanks for the drink," I said to him politely. "I hope you feel you've been repaid." He nodded without looking away. There was still something in his look, - a haughtiness, - entitlement, - something.

I laughed aloud. That seemed to confuse him.

"What?" he asked.

I grinned and shook my head. He looked at the two other men who also seemed confused and shrugged and held up their hands. I had noticed that the Lothario was all talk and no visible sign of his interest was showing in his pants. I made a mental note too, that the clear acrylic tabletops hid nothing below, giving me naughty ideas for myself later.

I turned and walked confidently back around the pool to my lounge, knowing that they were staring at my backside the entire way, - and trying to figure out why I'd laughed.

The rap on my hotel room door at seven forty-five, just like the day before, indicated my breakfast had arrived. The conference sessions didn't start until nine this morning, a concession from the planners I supposed as it was Saturday morning. In the tee-shirt, I knew my nipples would be visible, as would the sway of my breasts, but they wouldn't be in plain sight as they had been yesterday.

"Good morning, Mrs. Gunter," Roberto smiled. "Shall I bring in your breakfast?"

"Good morning, Roberto. Yes, please. I'll have it on the balcony again, if you don't mind?"

For just a second I noticed his glance hesitate, perhaps disappointed that I was covered up this morning, but he proceeded to enter with the food tray in one hand and the serving dolly in the other, and headed out to set up by the balcony table. I slid into the seat opposite where he was serving from, hiking the t-shirt up as I sat so I was bare assed on the cool metal seat. Like the tables out by the pool, this one too had a clear acrylic top.

"Did you sleep well, ma'am?" he asked as he retrieved the first dish and turned toward me, stopping cold. My legs were closed, but the t-shirt was up at my waist, and the thick mass of my curly black pubic hairs was quite visible.

Roberto's smile went from professional pleasant to genuine thrilled. His hand holding my bacon, egg, and tomato omelet stopped in mid air as his eyes went to my waist, then met my own and went back to my pussy again.

"is there a problem?" I asked as innocently as I could, allowing my knees to part about six inches, giving him a bit more of a view of my bush.

His eyes came up to meet mine. "No, not at all, Mrs. Gunter," he replied, setting the plate down well to my right so as to not block his view, and turning back to the tray.

As Roberto came back to face me, I grinned at the tightening of his hotel issue pants. His eyes were focused on the table, or should I say, through it, as he lowered the coffee cup and set it to my left.

"I think it would be alright, under the circumstances, if while you're here, that you call me Rita," I smiled, moving my right foot back a bit and bringing my knees another few inches apart.

"Mr. Gunter might not.."

"My husband knows that I like to be seen, and he likes me being seen, alright?"

He raised his eyes to mine and looked at me deeply, his eyes seemingly near tears. "Would you take off your shirt please, Rita, you have the most sensuous, wonderful breasts I have ever seen anywhere?"

"You want me to have my breakfast completely nude?" I asked in mocked surprise.

"Please..."

I smiled, "Well, as you said please..." The t-shirt came off and I laid it over the arm of the other chair.

"My god." He said. I was sure the pants he was wearing got tighter. As did my nipples responding to his admiration.

"Could you pour me some coffee, please?" I nodded to my empty cup.

As he did, I asked "Did your friends like the pictures?"

His hand shook but he got all the coffee in the cup and none spilled.

I began to cut into the omelet. "Did they?" It tasted delicious as I kept my eyes on the flustered young man, a smile curling my lips.

"Tony and I both said you could have the pictures, even when you said you'd show them to your friends," I said after finishing the bite and still not getting an answer. "So, did you show them to your friends?" Another bite of the omelet, just as delicious, went between my lips.

He nodded, "Just a few," he said apologizing.

I smiled, "And?" I asked.

"They asked if I got them out of a magazine or off the net, that no woman that beautiful would ever let me take pictures of her..." he smiled, his eyes continuing to dart to my chest which remained stiff in response to his hungry looks, and more often now to my lower regions when he thought I didn't notice.

"You took them without permission," I stated plainly, taking the last of the omelet into my mouth.

He looked chastised. "I know. I'm sorry," he exhaled. "But Rita, you were, - are- , so beautiful, the most exquisite, most magnificent woman I have ever seen!" he said with unabashed honesty. "I swore to them that you were real, and that...." he stopped abruptly.

"That what?" I asked with concern.

He lowered his eyes, and not to any part of my body, but the floor.

"It was stupid..... I said I'd get you holding the menu, the room service menu, so they knew you were actually here and that I had not made you up."

I almost laughed. I was afraid he'd broken his agreement and given my name or my room number out to the whole staff.

I picked up the menu with the hotel name on the front and pushed my chair away from the table. I got up and moved the chair away a bit more, along the clear glass wall railing, certain that Roberto was staring at my naked ass the whole time.

Taking my seat again, as demurely as a naked, stimulated woman can, I asked, "Do you have your camera?"

His eyes got as big as one of those funny emojis with the googly eyes and he nodded, digging in his pocket.

He swung the cellphone up to his face.

"Not yet," I smiled. "You have to promise, like before, that you won't identify me, that my face will be cropped out of ALL pictures, and that they'll never be put on the internet, anywhere," I finished with a stern mom look.

A naked woman sitting on a balcony with glass walls and protesting that she doesn't want to be seen on the internet nude, in front of a guy with a cellphone that she is about to pose for seemed incongruent - but Roberto swore that he would keep them all private. I believed him. I wondered later if I even cared.

"Did your friends say anything else?" I batted my eyes.

Roberto put the cell phone at his side, looking embarrassed.

"What was it?"

Still he hesitated.

I ran a finger around my right nipple. "Did they want to play with my breasts?"

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