O, What a Squirrelly Weekend!
Beach squirrels get an eyeful.
ONE
It was just before sunset when they arrived at the lighted, two-story house on the beach. As they climbed out of the car, they looked in both directions and were amazed at how secluded the floor to ceiling, window-surrounded home sat on this stretch of north Florida beach.
"This place is amazing! How did you find it?'' Elle asked as she started walking around the contour of the house.
"Yeah, you've outdone yourself with this place," Heather whispered, following Elle through the lush, flowered path that led to the backyard.
Belle said nothing, but smiled as he walked behind the two women. They followed the path behind the house, around the private pool and Jacuzzi to the stairs leading down to the water. He could smell the sea entwined with the scent of the hibiscus and jasmine that lined the walls of the villa.
His goal had been to blow them away with every aspect of this trip, which seemed to be succeeding. After all, it was the least he could do for the lovely pair who had agreed to a fantasy weekend taken from the dark recesses of his mind. The Squirrel Friends had agreed to take a page from the classic piece of dominance and submission erotica, the "Story of O," and submit to the desires and whims of Belle's twisted mind. In return, he had promised to give the lovers some time on the beach to sun, catch up on some fun reading poolside, and stretch their limbs in the privacy of this natural yoga studio called Sawgrass Beach.
Elle looked over her shoulder as she climbed down the stairs. "Is it okay if we leave the stuff in the car and catch the sunset? I'd love to take a walk before dinner."
"Fine with me," Heather replied.
Belle echoed, "Sounds good. We're in no rush this weekend."
The threesome made their way through the sugar-white sand down to the water's edge. The gulf was calm, yet the mist from each gentle collision of sea and sand hung in the air and caressed their skin as they walked. They moved in silence as the last of the sun disappeared on the horizon.
Two
Black dresses from New Year's Eve were the requirement for the evening. Elle and Heather had found their "orders" in an envelope addressed to both sitting at the foot of the master suite's bed. Along with the dresses was a requirement that each wear a thin, black choker with a silver ring in the front that could be regarded as no more than the same necklace on both women, until the unsuspecting observer looked closer and realized they were collars to be used for controlling their freedom.
The Squirrel duo had showered together after their walk and each smelled of the herbal soap Belle had required them to use. Fresh cucumber and melon drifted on the steam that remained in the bathroom and he inhaled deeply to take in the scent as he spied through a crack in the bedroom door.
Belle knocked gently and opened the door with his foot. He balanced long-stemmed flutes with champagne and pomegranate seeds in each hand along with two, long-stemmed birds of paradise flowers, one for each slave.
"This may be the last act of kindness you both receive this weekend, so I suggest you relish your last moments of freedom and drink to the unknown."
The two women stared at each other and laughed a little nervously. Each knew that Belle was simply going into his role for the weekend and they, ultimately, were the ones in control. But his voice was stern, and their gentle laughter quieted as he placed his index finger to the lips of each.
"It's time for dinner. We have reservations at 8:00," he said as he turned and left the room.
THREE
They arrived at the restaurant and the valet eyed each woman as they stepped from the car. The boy's eyes lingered on the length of their dresses and he nearly dropped the keys to the car as he watched the three enter the establishment.
The two followed closely behind Belle as he made his way to the maître d'. He took great pleasure from the knowledge that all eyes were watching as they made their way to their table. Wives and girlfriends expressed their displeasures and disapprovals into the ears of their men as Belle held the chair for Elle, and then Heather, to sit.
Belle sat opposite the two, who were within a few inches of each other. "So I can watch you," he had earlier told them as he explained what the evening would entail.
They ordered drinks before dinner. And not to draw any less attention to the group, the drinks were shots of tequila which they consumed greedily as their waitress, and the rest of the room, stared in amazement. No sooner was one round finished before the second and third passed their lips.
As dinner was served, the trio laughed unabashedly, much to the chagrin of the elderly Baptist school teacher eating her butter-drenched hushpuppy at the neighboring table. As Elle and Heather whispered and giggled into each others' ear, the old bag dripped butter down her shirt and almost fell out of her chair while attempting to see if she could hear the hidden discussion, only to "tsk, tsk" in disgust at the display.
Little did she know that the real show was under the linen tablecloth. The two had taken off their stiletto heels and took turns running their toes up and down Belle's shaft as it strained against the napkin hiding his interest. The position of the pair also hid their hands which caressed the inner thighs of the other, and their pleasure grew with the gentle pressure being applied to the bare flesh under their hem.
After dinner, the three removed themselves from the table and proceeded to the adjacent bar, all the while drawing no less attention from the patrons of this elegant after hour's location than from those in the dining room. The lighting was low and they found a secluded table in the corner where they could scan the comings and goings of the other guests.
Their hands continued their explorations under the table, each getting an opportunity for the other two to focus on one of the trios' growing needs.
Belle looked for his target. There were several candidates, each offering certain pros and cons that were superficial because they were all complete strangers. As his eyes went from one man to the next, he focused on a prospect sitting alone at the bar.
The man was close to six foot, sandy-blond hair, a little scruffy. At first glance, he could have been a lifeguard who grew up to take over daddy's business when the "ol' man" passed away and left him everything. He signaled an air of success without a sense of entitlement, and Belle had noticed that he had also caught the attention of the ladies who whispered and pointed in his direction.
"It's time," Belle commanded. Elle and Heather looked at each other and hesitated.
"When it comes down to it, we don't know if we can actually follow through with it" they had explained to Belle before leaving on this trip. Belle had laughed out loud and told them that they should have reread the book of "O" before so quickly agreeing to a weekend at the beach. And although they had not heeded his advice, they were now in the situation that Belle had orchestrated and the excitement of the challenge gave them a rush to see if it could be accomplished.
The pair left the table and moved to the two open bar stools immediately to the left of the "Lifeguard" (a moniker he earned because they would never come to know his real name and it was used as a way to reflect on the adventure during secret squirrel meetings in the clubhouse).
Elle sat with her back to the Lifeguard and Heather sat with her hand on Elle's knee. The Lifeguard noticed them the minute they sat down, although he didn't break off his conversation with the bartender who had also watched the women approach his work station.
Heather and Elle ordered a round of tequila and the Lifeguard grinned as they swallowed the elixir without a flinch. Heather carefully wiped a drop of the intoxicant off Elle's lower lip and sucked the nectar slowly off her finger. Belle kept watching this scene from a safe distance, but could easily recognize the interest that was growing in the Lifeguard.
Elle and Heather were getting more excited with the little show they were putting on, which caused them to laugh a little more loudly and draw stares from the rest of the crowd. The Lifeguard, however, was the one paying the closest attention. He turned his stool slightly in their direction and spoke for the first time.
"I gotta tell you. I don't know that I've ever seen two women taking such pleasure from such a foul concoction."
"You mean the tequila?" Elle asked as she placed her hand close enough to his on the bar that their fingers touched. The Lifeguard didn't move his hand, but actually started slowly rubbing his finger against Elle's hand.
"Yeah, the tequila," he responded. "I could never drink the stuff."
Heather chimed in, "It's probably because you've never experienced high quality stuff. Are you open to new experiences?" she said as she leaned closer to Elle and slid her hand beneath the black dress barely covering Elle's womanhood.
Elle gasped a little as the Lifeguard's eyes tracked to Heather's hand hidden from view. Elle and Heather looked into each others' eyes and knew that they could go through with their orders.
"Maybe I haven't had the right teachers,' the Lifeguard sputtered as he watched Elle start grinding against Heather's hand which was obviously exploring her depths.
Heather and Elle stared at each other. "We're all about teaching people new experiences," they said in unison. "Bartender, another round of Partida, and give one to our new friend."
four
Belle followed closely behind in his car. Not so close to be noticed, but close enough that he could ensure that the Lifeguard was taking the women back to the beach house as planned.
He had played his part perfectly, as well. When the Lifeguard had left the girls to relieve himself after the three shots of tequila, Belle had followed him into the bathroom and shared the urinal next to him.
