Part 1:
Basically, you have to believe in wild, ridiculous, "well-it-could-happen" types of scenarios to believe this story.
That said, it did happen.
The setup:
At 41, I was the sole male chaperone for a girls trip to Cancun.
20, 18-year-old girls.
3, moms. 2 of which divorced and single. 1 of which had been flirting with me for years even though she was the only remaining one married.
And me.
41 years old. 6' tall. 185lbs. Decent looking to the population in general.
I'm Mark Simons, my daughter is Brianna (Brie). I am the young dad to a wonderful girl who has great friends. And even though those friends used to be little girls and, though the time went in the blink of an eye for an adult, those girls were now women... and women are very different than girls.
We had booked a middle-of-the-road, adults-only establishment, a condition the moms actually insisted on. If we were going to be going on vacation with the girls they wanted to enjoy the fact that we were no longer parents to little kids. The girls couldn't care less anyhow. "We're not kids anymore," they all opined. Though, as a parent it can sometimes be hard to get over that idea.
The resort, like so much of Mexico, was a fantastic value for our American dollar. I am told that the reviews said the grounds were clean, the staff was friendly, the food and drinks were plentiful and all-included. We let the girls do the overall planning with the moms getting the final approval. Of course I could have been more involved in the planning but the pics I was shown looked fantastic and I trusted my daughters judgement.
All the parents had made deals with the girls that they were allowed to drink while on vacation (18 is the legal drinking age though even that is loosely enforced) yet had to stay on the resort grounds if doing so. The girls, again, couldn't care less. For many of them it was their first time out of the States, first time in the Caribbean, first time vacationing as an "adult."
The room situation, on the basis of cost, was 4 girls to a room (5 rooms) and 2 parents to a room (2 rooms).
"We could squeeze into one room as well," Gina (the mom who always flirted with me) said with a coy smile. "It might go over better since we are making the girls share."
Thankfully, I still had my head about me and knew where she was heading with her line of conversation. "Well, the beauty of being an adult and the one paying is that I get to make rules that aren't necessarily fair but to my benefit. I think we would all be much better off in our own beds. One extra room won't kill the budget."
Thankfully, the other moms agreed with me.
It wasn't to say that Gina wasn't attractive. Quite the opposite actually, she was a beauty. Each of the moms was quite good looking. My concern was that she was married and, since my wife died, I admit I hadn't done much in the way of dating.
"You've gotta' get out there again," my daughter would tell me, almost pleading with me to go out on some dates.
Honestly, she was right. Though, while I am not sure there was ever one specific reason why, I just didn't.
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I had an inkling the trip was going to be a bit wilder than I had originally planned when I helped Brianna get packed.
"What's this?" I asked as I held up a tiny lycra g-string.
"One of my suits."
"Pretty small."
"Yeah. A few of us ordered them and figured to give them a try. We figure the less tanlines, the better."
"Does it have a top?"
"Not that one," she answered matter-of-a-factly. "But I am bringing a total of 3, two of them have tops, and the girls all agreed to trade suits so we can have a lot of options for sharing and mixing-and-matching."
"You all wear the same size?"
"Well, obviously, no. But suits are stretchy and there are enough options between all of us that we probably won't go a day wearing the same thing."
"Or, apparently much it all," I said sarcastically. "I guess we will need to pick up more sunscreen."
Brie grabbed the scrap of cloth out of my hand and stuck her tongue out at me in a joking mock. We had a great relationship.
It wasn't as if I didn't know she didn't wear thongs and other skimpy underwear already. Heck, I did the household laundry. I also knew the resort policy was "toplessness is not sanctioned though widely tolerated/accepted." It's just that one of the problems with raising your child in a body positive manner is that sometimes they actually listen to what you say.
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The travel down was typical. The girls were all squealing with anticipation while the parents tried to keep their volume down for the benefit of the rest of the plane. When we walked into the big, beautiful entry of the resort I almost started squealing with delight myself. It was more fantastic than I had pictured it and perfect for someone who hadn't been on an adult vacation... ever. While the resort was relatively empty (we got in quite early and were told that it would fill up over the course of the day with other travelers) I could already sense the energy that it held within its walls.
As it turned out, the adult rooms were actually adjoining and the moms (Gina, Melanie and Sara) immediately declared that the door between should never be shut over the course of the 10 days we would be vacationing.
10 days.
I hadn't had 10 days off in a row since before we had Brie. Sure, we had gone on vacations, mostly with her sets of grandparents, but nothing more than 6 nights. This was 9 full nights in paradise and I was looking forward to every moment of it.
The moments started immediately when the moms each changed into their bikinis and insisted on doing 2 rounds of shots to "get the party started."
The moms:
Gina - Mother of Brittany and a 5-year-old son I did not know. 47 years old. Married. Extremely good looking. 5'3" tall. Probably about 110-115lbs. Rock hard abs and an overall athletic, not very curvy, build. 365-day-a-year golden spray tan and blonde highlighted light brown hair that was very obviously professionally done. Measurements came in at an estimated 28-24-30. She informed me as she pulled on her bikini top, with not a care in the world that on day 1 she was topless in front of me, that she was getting implants in 6 weeks so she would "no longer be shaped like a boy" and was only disappointed that she hadn't planned them sooner to be able to "show them off to me."
Melanie - Mother of Emily. 42 years old and the closest in age to me. Most typical "mom" of the group. Had 3 kids and Emily was the oldest. Youngest was 8 and she informed us prior to the trip that she had a bit of trouble losing the final bit of pregnancy weight. 5'5" tall. 135-140lbs. It was obvious she was a looker in her younger years but had somewhat fallen into the tedium of middle age, marriage and parenthood and was a bit more plain in her appearance. Measurements estimated at 34-26-38. Melanie did not change in front of me, but did make a quick appearance in her run-of-the-mill bikini when summoned and looked pretty darn good to my eye. Yes, it was obvious her breasts were a bit smaller and "looser" than they once were and she carried a bit of a baby paunch, but her face was kind and warm and inviting and she had a full set of lips that were fantastically sexy. Melanie had finalized her divorce not 6 weeks prior and informed us that she was "ready to have some real fun after all the bullshit" she had been through.
Sara - Mother of Priya. Sara was a medium-skin-toned Indian woman whose name was not particularly befitting of how exotic she was. 45 years old, 5'7" tall, voluptuous. Always has called me "Honey" or "Sweety" when we saw each other. Sara changed into a tiny, string, thong bikini that brazenly flaunted the curves of her body. Measurements estimated at 44-38-42 of pure sex. Her breasts were large and full and barely covered by the tiny triangles of her top, her hips were wide and, though she was heavy, her skin was smooth and without a hint of cellulite. Her bikini bottom was so small it gave evidence to a professional wax job and her skin glistened even in the artificial light of the room. I had never seen Sara not done up in full makeup and dressed to the nines and her gold, sequined bikini and accenting wedge sandals continued the image she had crafted for herself. Which was, in essence, she was hot and she was worth it. Sara, was my roommate for the next 10 days and I worried myself with how I was not going to offend her with what were most likely going to be constant erections.
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After shots we went down to the pool and found that the girls were already there and already enthusiastically drinking their first round of drinks at the poolside bar. Each girl was fully covered in a relatively modest bikini ("cheeky" bottoms and string tops at most daring) and I figured that each of them, including my daughter, were waiting to absorb the overall vibe of the resort before doing anything a bit more daring. While the moms and I had agreed to give the girls their space for the majority of the trip, it did seem appropriate to at least have a first drink with them.
Drinks in hand, we toasted to our vacation and threw back our drinks. Being the only male, having just chugged my drink and never one to be have particularly showy in front of my daughter and her friends previously, I got the loudest reception.
"Mister Simons!"
"Whooooo!"
"Part-aaayyyy!"
It was pretty shrill and loud and it was then that I realized I had to lay out some new suggested ground rules. Thankfully, they were well received.
Nobody was to call me Mr. Simons anymore. Each of the girls were 18 and we were on vacation. Instructions were made to call me Mark. Gina, Melanie and Sara all followed suit with insisting on first name greetings.