My wife Melinda is a travel writer. She recently was assigned to review Caribbean clothing optional resort, and I could come with her. My expectation were high, but little did I know the price I'd pay.
We were greeted at the resort by the manager, Deacon, a thickly built native who apparently was a former minister. Deacon welcomed us with his lovely clipped English accent and led us through the lobby area to the elevator and up to our room overlooking the ocean.
"Perhaps you'd like to rest after your journey?" Deacon asked.
"Yes, for a bit, then I'd like to see more of the resort," my wife replied.
"Very well, madam," he answered, "I would be happy to give you a tour and explain our accommodations and the guest experience."
"We'll meet you in an hour," she said.
From our balcony we could see guests relaxing around the pool and on the beach. In the distance I could see the beach bar, tourists strolling in the sand, and lounge chairs under shady cabanas.
An hour later, we gathered our beach supplies and met Deacon for the tour. "We are so honored that you are here. Please follow me." He then explained, "We have beach boys who see to guest needs. These young men are trained to guarantee your visit is pleasant. They serve throughout our facilities."
Just then one of the beach boys walked by. He was tall and trim and wore a short white waiter's jacket and carried a drink on a serving tray. But below his waist, he wore nothing except a prominent banana hammock that swayed as he walked.
Deacon said, "You will see our beach boys in most parts of the resort. They are well trained in guest services, and they wear their jacket proudly. Those wearing white, referring to their cock pouches, are veteran beach boys. Red is for those who are still in training.
At the pool area, we observed more of the beach boys attending to guests, their white slings bulging. Their swinging cocks caught my wife's eyes.
Deacon told us, "Our resort is for couples and single women. Our success depends on the security and comfort of our guests. Staff members must meet our strong requirements for kindness and discretion because, as you can imagine, some guests have never experienced such freedom to enjoy themselves."
As we approached the beach, I could see guests in full bathing attire, some women were topless, and others were completely nude. My cock squirmed inside my swim trunks.
At the edge of the sand, as we left the resort patio, Deacon stopped to explain, "On the beach, all our beach boys and other employees must remove their lower clothing." As he spoke, Deacon took off his trousers, revealing a quite large white banana hammock, then he peeled it down. I was shocked to see what had to be a world-class cock, thick like I'd never seen and drooping down in a relaxed position.
Deacon stepped into the sand with his cock proudly on display. Beach boys wore their distinctive waiter jackets, but were naked beneath. Several of them were at the beachside bar getting drinks for guests and then parading with floppy cocks as they passed admiring wives and envious husbands.
My own dick was aroused, but Deacon and the beach boys retained respectful graceful puffy cocks.
He went to work at the beach bar as we settled on beach lounges. Melinda smiled, "I've been wondering how to describe the resort. What we've seen so far will be a challenge to put into print." In a few minutes, she lowered the top of her one-piece bathing suit. Nearby husbands watched as her lovely nipples popped into view. Then she turned over.
I said to Melinda, "Here goes nothing," and I slid down my bathing trunks. My cock was no match for any of the beach boys, much less Deacon, but it gave me a feeling of freedom to not care if other people looked at my dick.
Deacon returned with one of his trainees, a handsome tall young man with ample equipment. "May we help you with sun screen?" He held a tube of protective lotion, and waited for Melinda to reply.
She was a bit startled, "Oh, well okay."
"Excellent," Deacon said, "It is very important to protect skin from the sun, especially if this is your first day here." Deacon and the beach boy in training stood on either side of my wife, looking down at her breasts. Starting with Melinda's feet, they applied lotion and gently rubbed it into her skin. "Be sure to apply thoroughly," he spoke to his trainee, "Use long firm strokes to massage the lotion into the guest's skin."
Deacon worked on one leg while his helper did the other. Their hands spread the slippery lotion up the backside of her legs, then firmly massaged it into her skin. Deacon said, "Intimate areas need protection, too," as his enormous hand plunged between my wife's legs. His trainee did the same from the other side, as her legs parted a bit.
They applied lotion to her inner thigh right up to the protective nylon covering her pussy. I heard my wife moan gently as she felt these strangers' hands so close to her pussy.
Then they moved to her back, coating her with lotion and rubbing down as far as she had exposed herself. "Would madam like to turn over?"
Without hesitation, my wife turned to display her breasts to Deacon and the young man. As Deacon leaned over I could see my wife's face but I could only see her tits between his legs when his cock and balls swung from side to side.
As they touched her breasts, Deacon told his trainee, "The breasts are very important. Put a generous coat of sun screen here," as his big hand circled and then massaged my wife's breast. The younger man did the same on the other side.
Then Deacon said, "Do not forget the nipples." He applied lotion to his fingers, then circled her nipples, drawing his fingers up higher and higher until he pinched her pointed tip and twisted as he drew it up. He supervised as his trainee did the same. "That's right, massage the lotion deeply into the nipples." They repeated the application, pulling and twisting her nipples until they snapped out of their slippery fingers. Melida's mouth was open, but she wasn't speaking.
On her legs, they once again slid the lotion up until almost touching her pussy, using their large strong hands to pull her legs apart slightly. Then with one finger sliding the lotion up each side of the vee in her bathing suit just to the side of her pussy mound. Her mouth was still open, and she was staring sightless into space.
"Very well," said Deacon, "You should be protected for a while, but we recommend reapplying sun screen every three hours." He nodded, "We are happy to be at your service." And the two of them walked to the next sunbather.
Melinda turned her head to me and blinked, "Jesus," she said, "Did you see that?" She looked at my stiff willy wonka and laughed.
We retired for lunch and rest in the shade of our room, but there was a knock at our door. It was Deacon, attired in his jacket and ample white cock pouch, "This afternoon I will train our new beach boy in the massage spa. Would madam like to help us?"
Melinda was happy to volunteer. "Just tell me when," she shouted out.
At the spa, Deacon and his trainee welcomed us wearing bathrobes. They offered robes to us both. We undressed behind a screen. I took a seat in a comfy chair, and Melinda laid face down on the massage table.
"Since you are here as our guest, we want you to have the finest we can offer," Deacon said, "And this is a good time for our new boy to learn."
Seeing Melinda being prepared by these two, my cock began to leak. Deacon said, "Is sir comfortable?"
"Oh yes," I replied.
He then brought to me a tube of ointment and towels, "If sir would like to enjoy himself," and nodded. I had suspected that there would be no limits to the massage service, and I would not be disappointed.
Deacon's robe parted, and his enormous unsheathed cock looked hungry for pussy. My wife on the table would be too tempting, I was sure. As he told his assistant to watch, Deacon took my wife's ankles and spread her legs. Her robe dropped between her spread legs, but that would not protect her pussy for long.
Both the men's robes were open at the front, and both cocks were more no longer long and limp. Moving up her legs, one man on each side, their hands disappeared under Melinda's robe. Deacon flipped up her robe and exposed her ass mounds.
Carefully and slowly, the men moved up her backside. Deacon told his trainee, "Do not touch her pussy unless she asked you to," as his hands neared my wife's tender zone.
They moved up and over her ass to her back and arms, then turned over. Her robe fell completely away. The men studied her pussy as I grabbed the ointment and oiled my cock.
Deacon worked his way up her legs while the younger man massaged her upper body. As their hands neared her pussy, I stood to take a close look. Her furry mound was swollen. As Deacon rolled her legs from side to side, folds of her inner lips were exposed. There at the top of her slit, unconcealed, was the tip of her clit.
Deacon spoke to his trainee, "See this?" The young man looked and nodded. "This is a spot not to touch without permission. Both men's cocks were well on the way to penetration strength.
"Watch," Deacon said, then he gently grazed his finger over my wife's clit bump.
