Chapter 2

I would have taken the stairs if I was in a hurry. The elevator was painfully slow; good for torturing self-conscious, over-exposed teenagers, bad for actually getting upstairs. I wanted an opportunity to gauge the operator’s reaction to our earlier drama. There was time so I pressed the call button.

The hiring managers at this resort must have a tape measure in the interview room. I had not seen a male employee shorter than six-three, nor a female taller than five-two. The men, I supposed, discouraged unseemly behavior among the guests and visitors. The women, on the other hand, were too short to obstruct the guests’ view of each other. Maybe that would work in the old world when non-royalty was invisible or treated like furniture or sex outlets if anyone paid attention at all.

In this piece of the new world, not all of the women were beautiful and not all of the men were handsome, but none of them would send children crying to their mother’s arms either. And none were treated unkindly, more like nice scenery, but they were still employees and generally ignored by the rich and famous. My girls and I were not famous and I did like the scenery. A lot.

Gina, Carla, and now, the elevator operator were testament to the grand vistas inside the walls. This diminutive bit of scenery was named Marta and she was grand. She blushed slightly when I entered and turned her head to the control lever. I could hear her soft laughter.

“Signorina, what is so funny? Would you care to share the joke? Do I have something on my face?”

She answered with a pleasantly fresh honesty. “It’s not your face, Signore Charles. I was remembering the faces of your discomfited companions and the bold Englishwomen. That was quite the episode.”

Marta put her hand on the control but didn’t move the lever. She turned and asked me, “If they were so embarrassed, why didn’t they put down the beach bags and pull up their bikinis? They were not restrained at any time and easily could have preserved the remains their modesty. Even after the larger breasted redhead suffered the little death, she and the other girl were no more resistant than mannequins.”

“I can’t answer that question, Marta. And I will not ask them. I think they unconsciously put themselves in such situations for the secret forbidden thrill. Asking might shatter a ‘maiden swept into a life of debauchery, no longer in control of her fate’ fantasy. Maybe they go temporarily insane. Maybe both and more. Who knows?” I smiled at her. “I have enjoyed pushing them as far as possible within the bounds of physical safety. I admit to extremes, but I have not found their limits even though we’ve gone pretty far. Perhaps, this is all so new, they don’t know there are limits. They trust me, I suppose.”

The bell dinged again before we started up. Marta opened the brass doors. “You’re early, Signora Giancarlo. Are you here to relieve me?”

“Franco is at his mama’s house tonight so I decided to come on in. Better than sitting in an empty house.” She shrugged. “Someone should benefit from her broken leg. May as well be you. Ah, Signore Charles, come sta?”

“Molto bene, grazie, Senora Giancarlo. Sorry about your mother-in-law. Will she recover soon?”

“Soon, but not soon enough. Franco is a good son to her, but I miss our time together.” She smiled cheerfully, “I shouldn’t hold you up. To the second floor we go.”

She moved the lever and the car began the slow climb. I had more than a half hour before the twins arrival and the conversation was entertaining so did not mind the delay at all. At the second floor, Marta followed me off and waited for the doors to close and the car to move up.

Responding to my raised eyebrow, she said, “I wanted to continue our interrupted conversation. You mentioned trust and extremes. I was wondering what you meant.”

In case you were wondering: Name Age Hgt. Eyes Hair Cup/Color Gina Gamboa 16 5’01” brown brown C/dk. pink Carla Gamboa 17 5’00” brown brunette B+/dk. pink Marta Gamboa 15 4’10” brown black B-/pink

“The short answer is that I pushed beyond what some might consider reasonable. Far beyond. But I would have stopped cold if either of them had asked. However, the imaginary limits moved the farther I took them. And the boundaries are still moving. How much detail do you need? What are your limits?”

“Details may let me put myself in their panties, so to speak, and would help me understand. I don’t know about limits.” Good thing I had time. This was getting interesting.

“Some things are not mine to share. A demonstration is in order for the sake of clarity.” I continued. “Tell me why some employees have only their first name on their badges.”

The unexpected question put her off guard. “It is to put a wall between background staff and the guests. People who interact in the open with our clients are more protected because the dealings are out in the open. Like the front desk and customer relations.”

She frowned, “Some of us, like me, the facilities maintenance, and bellpersons have occasionally attracted the attention of rather unsavory guests who obviously feel privileged, who are used to getting their way. If their advances are refused, some become virtual stalkers.”

“So the first name only makes you hard to track down away from the resort?” I walked her away from the elevator and toward the small window at the end of the hall, near the Smythe sisters’ suite. “Am I one of the unsavory types, Marta?”

“Certainly not, Signore Charles. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“You might while we explore your limits. Stand still and let me look at you.” She got very still. “Very nice. Young, beautifully shaped and a sweet face. Excellent proportions.”

I touched her cheek with my left palm. “Flawless, smooth and no make-up. Natural complexion, just perfect. Kissable lips and delicate nose.” I was not telling lies. She was all that and nine bags of chips.

Continuing to trace her jaw line, I unzipped the skirt and let it fall. “Legs to die for. I can only imagine how they will feel wrapped around my waist. It will be heaven on earth.” I heard a soft inhalation but she stood still, slightly trembling.

Pennies and pounds and lira. Exchange rates and clues.

I stepped back and admired her French-cut panties. Softly touching the front, I whispered, “You wear them well, dear. What do they hide and what will they reveal?”

The answer was expressed in faster panting. I walked behind her and untied the two bows holding her halter top on. “Let it fall, Marta. You have every reason to be proud of your body.” I caressed her boobs from behind, paying extra gentle attention to her bright pink nipples. “I am proud of you.”

Still no limits. “Are your nipples as sensitive as they appear, Marta? Tell me.”

She managed a nod and swallowed. “Yes, Signore.” She was caught in the web, just like my girls. Would her limits always be one step away?

I touched her hips lightly and began to draw her panties down to her ankles. “My daughter and her friend were already naked, so I did this to the very proper Englishwomen. Like you, they did nothing to stop me from exposing their naked bodies to anyone in this hall.”

I led her to the bench under the window, leaving her clothes in a puddle on the carpet, out of her reach. Covering her public nudity ceased to be an option. I rendered her unable to cover up if she chose.

She looked back toward her clothes and seemed to realize her helpless position. Her eyes squeezed closed and her body trembled, but Marta never said a word to the man leading her to the precipice. She turned away from the clothes. She rejected safety. She knew what she had done.

I sat her on the cushion, placing her fanny on the edge and removed my shorts and shirt. Dropping to my knees between her wonderful legs, I developed an instant appreciation for the genius of the furniture designers. The alignment was perfect for taking yet another step. A step I would take unless she stopped me.

Continuing the narrative, “Four girls were naked, then I touched my daughter in her most private place, the first boy to do so. Watch me, Marta; watch me touch you like I did Laurie.”

She peeped down meekly and then really opened her eyes wide at the sight of my iron hard erection inches away from her virginity. Her mouth opened, but no words escaped.

“I played with her clit and nipples until she peaked in her first public orgasm. Laurie was glorious in her ecstasy, absolutely beautiful.” All the while rolling her nipple and massaging her over-sensitized pleasure button. “Show me what you look like when you come, Marta. I want to see your face and hear your voice when you go over the cliff.”

That mental stimulation combined to carry her across the line. She threw her head back, arched her back and moaned and hissed and quaked her orgasm for any ears in the vicinity. Marta was, in fact, glorious.

The Smythe sisters poked their heads out. Seeing the source of the noise was the lift girl and who caused it, they walked, still naked, to the bench. “Don Theodore, why am I not shocked to find you here?” Pamela asked. “You are the very devil.”

“You have no idea, yet, how appropriate your company is. I am about to demonstrate to a very curious Marta how I plucked my girls’ cherries while another naked girl watched and awaited her turn.”

I notched my dick in the bug-eyed girl’s pussy. “Next, dear, I pushed in slowly, savoring each and every centimeter of the wet warmth of her cunt as I went deeper and deeper.” I was going to take her unless she found the limit and was doing so as I talked. “My dick bumped up against her hymen and broke through.” I pushed through her maidenhead and continued to the end. Marta watched as I fucked her childhood away. “Did you see it happen? Do you understand now? And just like that, my daughter, her friend and our sexy little concierge were no longer virgins.”

“And now you, too, have given me your most precious gift. Can you feel how tight you are inside? Can you feel my heart throb? Can you feel me start to move in and out? Fuck me back, Marta. Let the sisters see how good a fuck you are. You know you want to.”

Marta was wailing at this point, every nerve alive and electric. “That’s it Marta. I can rub your sweet spot inside on the outstroke and your clit on the way in while I watch those nipples trying to pop off your bouncing titties. Anne, Pamela, should I hold her nipples in place while she gets her first fuck in public?”

“Mother Mary in a whorehouse, man! You’re killing the poor girl.” Anne cried. “We’ll take care of the tits. You keep fucking her as hard as you can.”

“Look at her, Ted. She needs this. If she doesn’t come soon, I’ll die.” Pamela pinched one of Marta’s tips and Anne the other. Both sisters reached between us and felt for the former virgin’s clit but she was fucking me so fast they couldn’t find it.

Carla’s clue clicked in my head when I saw Marta begin to flip. They were sisters! Gina, Carla and Marta were sisters. Crazy, nuts, demented crazy! This was stratospherically weird even for today.

I pulled the Smythe sisters close. “When I wink, squeeze her nipples as hard as you would want yours pinched at your hottest.”

To Marta, “You feel wonderful inside, wrapped around my dick. Wet, hot, soft and tight. Oh, so tight. As tight as your sister when I took her virginity an hour ago.”

I was ramming her as fast as I could. When she began to get really tight, I whispered in her ear. “This cock was in your sister and now it’s fucking you. I am fucking you with the dick that fucked Gina,” I winked at the Smythe girls. They pinched and I slammed into the wide eyed Gamboa sister as hard as I thought she could take. “I’m going to let Carla fuck me later so you can watch.”

She went supersonic, shaking like a jackhammer, trying to break me off and wailing words never before spoken, except the words, “GINA. You had GINA” about every third phrase in Early Neanderthal or whatever the hell language she was speaking.

Marta was still going strong when Gina and my girls burst out of our suite to see who was being murdered and why were they calling for the concierge.

Gina skidded to a stop when she saw her sister with my dick deep in her cunt and a crazy look on the face. Then she started laughing and hugging both of us. “Oh. My God. You too? We will talk later. Laurie, grab the clothes. Sadie, hold the door. Don Theodore, grab my sister. We have to get inside the suite. Now. Room service has loaded the elevator. They will be here in seconds!”

“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on, Marta.” I picked her up, still inside a pussy quivering anew. The exposure danger kept her orgasm strong. Girls and their kinks.

When properly motivated, the Smythe girls were good. Pamela wiped the bench with my shirt when I lifted Marta and Anne collected my shorts and the package from ‘Deviazioni, Divertimenti, e Gioelli’, closed their door and followed Gina to my suite. Laurie, Sadie and I entered with Pamela bringing up the rear. She checked the scene of the defloration one last time and closed the door as the elevator dinged.

“Laurie, throw on a long terry bathrobe and let the waiters bring in the carts and set up the dinner table. Then sign the chit and show them out. The rest of you, get into a bedroom and shut the door. Wait for Laurie’s all clear.”

I headed for my room with Marta bouncing on my dick. She was ramping up again. I dropped to the bed and tried to fuck the elevator operator to the top floor and back to the lobby. We didn’t make it to the lobby even once. She lasted until the third floor on the first trip down before she blew like Vesuvius, threatening villages for miles around. Only this time in total silence. Amazing girl, that Marta. All of them were amazing.

I already told you the elevator was slower than tectonic drift.

I pulled out and left her spread out on the bed looking a lot like her sister after she also fainted in the aftermath of a volcanic orgasm. Raw, primal and gorgeous. Exactly like Laurie and Sadie. Free and shameless in their glory. Proud.

Keeping them free and shameless means keeping them on the outer edge of their personal safety zones. I can do that.

When I told the girls to go into a bedroom and wait for the all clear, I should have known they would come into mine to see the Further Adventures of Marta Gamboa, The Astounding Up and Down Girl. Coming in a comic book store near you.

I could hear Bossy Laurie directing the room service staff. The image of a tough trail boss driving ten thousand head of longhorns across the West Texas plains came to mind. I picked the right girl for the job.

Flashing on a previous idea, I made a quick call to the shop in the lobby. I got lucky. “Carla. Great. Glad I caught you. When you come up, bring an ‘M’ monogram pendant to match the others.”

“My bold Signore Charles, how do you know I’m coming?”

“You’ve already come for me, dear signorina, and quite delightfully so. And you have to properly fit my ladies to earn your dessert. I know you want to earn dessert.”

“How can I say ‘no’? I will see you, you silver-tongued Svengali, before 9:30.”

“Good girl, Carla, and getting better every minute. See you then. Bring an appetite.”

“I will indeed, capo de tutti canzonatori.”

“We never tease, Signorina. 9:30. Remember the ‘M’.” And I cut the call. She’ll stew and fidget but she will come for dessert.

Figuring I had time for another quick shower, I carried Marta to the bathroom. She was so light, I was able to hold her in one arm and adjust the water temperature with the other. She was awake and alert, but loved the attention and kept her mouth shut.

I suspected as much and gave her a short blast of cold water. The squeal and squirm confirmed her fakery. She was cute and a very good fuck so I let it slide.

Laughing, we scraped and scrubbed the evidence off and got dry just in time for dinner. The other little voyeurs were serving the fabulous food and making happy sounds. I had to ask, “So Signorina Gamboa, did the demonstration give you enough detailed information to make an informed guess as to my girls’ motivation? Can you tell me why they did not cover themselves when given the chance?”

“They were so hot and bothered they forgot how to talk and use their hands.” She giggled. “They were afraid of and yearned for whatever was coming next. Even when it resulted in public first time sex, it was worth it. They would not have stopped it if they could. And they could not stop if they wanted to.”

“Did you think for an instant our discussion would end with your sister seeing you taking your first dick in the hallway with the Smythe sisters trying to pull your nipples off?” I chuckled. “Have you redrawn your limits?”

“I had no idea where it would end when we started talking. Once we got involved, I think curiosity was replaced by excitement over exploring the unknown, the unknown to me anyway, then I wanted to see if I could go as far as the other girls went and then afraid you wouldn’t take me there. And when I discovered where ‘there’ was, I was terrified but unable to stop.” Marta took a long breath and let it out slowly. “Then you took me body and soul and I did not want to stop.”

“The limits? Have I become one of the unsavory types?”

“The limit is just beyond my last experience. I have not reached it and probably will not soon because it keeps moving further and further away.”

She got serious. “Remember what I told you about the badges? Whether the name is complete or not, resort staff is not available to the guests for their entertainment. We do not participate in the clothing optional rules to avoid the suggestion that we are. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“You’re saying the casual nudity, though often the norm among the guests outdoors, is something none of you Gamboas do or have gotten used to?”

“Correct. And it is never the norm indoors for the guests, either. That might change after today. But we Gamboas are not used to it indoors or out. We’re as nervous about being exposed and as excited at the thought as anyone. But we allowed ourselves to be pushed into doing things we fear a little to find out what can be so forbidden and so attractive. The problem with you is that you are too damn savory!”

“Please. OK. I don’t curdle milk much but you have to stop there.”

“A bunch of us saw you in action in the lobby and on the beach. You are the most cheerful bad boy here. Your crazy antics were neither mean nor abusive. I called it casually extreme teasing. Intense, but playful and fun. Can you have demented casual teasing? Certainly you kept up the pressure to go farther, for them to go nearly insane with warring emotions, but you also kept an escape option open. That it was never used is on them. Trust a girl who has been there, no matter how embarrassing or weird, they had to know what came next. They had to find out if they could do it. You only take what is given. But you are pretty damn persuasive when focused. You talked them out of what we are too shy to give away.”

“So, the short answer is that you are all insane, but OK with it? Like we decided before Senora Giancarlo interrupted? And I’m crazy, too?”

“Precisely. I’m OK. You’re only one I trust to keep us OK. I’m starved. Let’s eat. Now.”

The sitting room resembled the employees only buffet at the world’s classiest gentlemen’s club. ‘Dinner for six’ could serve ten with massive leftovers. We had a long side table laden with trays, bowls, steamers and drinks. Another table was large enough to seat four on a side and one at the ends.

Like I said, dinner for ten, easily. With matching, well cushioned folding chairs. The girls added towels in case things got moist. Marta, Gina, Anne, Pamela, Sadie and Laurie oozed moisture.

Marta and I filled plates and took our places at the table. Let me tell you, this was a Class A spread! I could spend hours in praise of the chefs. I’m sure we did not do the presentation as an art form as well as they could. We didn’t try. But the ‘Mona Lisa’ hanging crooked is still the “Mona Lisa’.

It’s much more fun to eat than look. We had a lot of fun. Then had more fun.

Conversation was lively and silly. Recent ‘events’, not obviously ignored, were not at the forefront. Cool. They spent a lot of air critiquing the guests. The Gamboas had tons of original dirt they never revealed to anyone, dirt, if made public, would have ruined reputations. That was not going to happen at the resort where lips are sealed. My girls were not about to spread rumors.

It was worse and better than the snarky comments my girls made this morning. This morning? Wow! This was a busy day. And Carla was still due, we had the sunburn cure to apply and sundry plans to make for tomorrow’s thrills, chills and spills.

“What are we doing with the leftovers?” Sadie asked, “This is way too good to put out into the hall.”

“Room service has refrigerators under the buffet tables. We can stash the goodies and even reheat stuff later.” Gina said, “They will leave it until you call. Won’t be missed.”

“We don’t have to go out for two days!” Anne was doing the happy dance. A guy would have to be three days dead and buried face down not to react. Then it would be close. I was none of those. Even overworked, my man parts took interest in the terpsichorean arts. She, and now her sister, could dance on my pole any time.

I have such a short attention span, “Gina. What’s the best way to do the depilatory and the sunburn balm? Any particular order?”

“Back to work already, you slave driver? Ok. Probably do the depilatory first, all over, wait five minutes, wash carefully and then the balm. No one is toasted too badly. Looks like Laurie and Sadie could use some attention, but a light coat before bed time should do.”

Marta cautioned, “It does desensitize sensitive places that are best left sensitive, if you know what I mean. Caution to avoid frustration. Just saying...”

“I do have the moisturizer without the anesthetic, if sensitivity is an issue.” Gina grinned.

“From your lips to my lips. Hint heard and heeded, O Wise One, who had her first time less than an hour ago.” Laurie giggled. “Let’s get this fine fare put away and do some in house spa treatments.”

“You beat me to the Pearly Gates by hours and you’re the expert? And I never said anything about not having some experience with the crème and others, just not boys.”

“Is there something you want to say, Gina? Maybe share a sister story or two?” Anne raised an eyebrow to her hairline in mock disapproval. “You’re face is awfully red.”

“No. Leave me out of this. I’m merely a very good little concierge, very good.” Gina smiled. “And you’re just like the nuns when they ask if we have something to confess. I didn’t tell them about anything and I sure as hell won’t confess to anything today. The priest would have me doing the rosary until I’m old and gray. I’m going to be an Episcopalian or a Wiccan or both. Easier on the psyche. No guilt.”

While the girls bussed the tables and put down towels, warm bowls of water, washcloths and more towels. I wondered about the Gamboa sisters’ command of English, proper and vernacular but, as usual lately, got distracted. We had to borrow things from the Smythe suite, which involved a giggling pod of naked girls dashing in and out the doors. The sight would distract a statue of Diana. Seriously. I had no chance.

Neither Pamela nor Anne brought back anything to wear, forgetting to remember or remembering to forget they were naked when they dashed out to render emergency assistance to Marta getting fucked on the bench in the very public hall through which they trotted naked now risking exposure.

Clue: Girls on vacation make their own rules.

I finally got the question asked.

“Convenience. Carla, Marta and I interact with the public. Few speak intelligible Italian, though many try. But English seems a common ground for our elite clientele. Germans, Swedes, Egyptians, Chinese, Brazilians, Malaysians, most everybody speaks some English for business, science, air travel or finance.”

Marta added, “Their English may be hard to understand, but is way better than my non-existent Portuguese, Arabic or Borneolian.”

“Borneolian? Now you’re making it up.” I grinned.

“See? In English, you can build your own words from all the parts. Most of the pieces come from Latin, Greek or some Germanic variation.” Marta smiled deceptively sweetly. “It works for everyone except the Bornegians.”

“Mi fa male la testa.” Laurie flopped on a sofa. “All this talk of things not related to rubbing nice things on our tired, burned and frightfully used bodies is giving me a pain.”

“So speaks the testarosa. My daughter, not the Ferrari.” I chuckled in my best evil doctor voice. “Cars don’t get heartaches, they sputter and need tune-ups. Maybe my dear Laurie needs a ‘tune-up’ to get her motor running?”

“Hush. There’s someone at the door. Should I answer it?” Sadie was moving in that direction bare-assed naked and didn’t realize it. Maybe she realized but didn’t care at the moment. Girls on vacation don’t have rules?

I’m not the only one easily distracted.

“Hold up, sweetie. Gina, you and Marta get into the bathroom and shut the door. I’ll open the door when they are hidden. We don’t know who it is and I don’t want to start rumors yet.”

I waved Laurie over while the Gamboas hid. “When I point, go to the bathroom and tell the sisters to be very quiet and to stand behind her wherever I put her. I have a surprise. Everyone, relax and hang out.”

The girls took their places on the sofa and chairs. I opened the door. “I’m glad you could make it, signorina. The girls will be delighted at the personal touch. Please come in.” I shut and locked the door after leading her in. “Did you bring the extra initial?”

“In my pocket. When do we start?” Her eyes stared at my erection pointing to her belly button.

“Soon, but we have unfinished business. We have a conversation to continue.” I stood behind her, whispering in her ear, unbuttoning her shirt. “Let’s move forward to the part where you were showing me the adornments.” While softly touching her arms and sides, “Answer me, Carla. How did you feel?”

Not waiting for a response, I pulled the sides back, putting her on display for the four naked girls silently staring. Laurie and Sadie were wide-eyed, shocked at how fast things were moving. As far as they were concerned, I had opened the door and started stripping the visitor. Boom. No foreplay, no waiting. Carla and I had history about which they knew nothing.

The nipple loop focused their attention.

I spoke, lightly touching her swollen nipples, “If I remember, you started playing with your pussy, watching me watch you come right there in the gift shop. Do the little loops make your tits so sensitive that the slightest touch makes you loose control?”

Carla nodded ‘yes’.

“You must like loosing control. I think you wear them so you can. Did you reach into your pants on the way to our suite? Are you excited enough to come for me again?”

Again, a small nod, but no words. She let me smell her fingers. Nectar.

“You want to show me how you touched yourself, don’t you? I want you to step out of your slacks to make it easy.”

No nod. Paralysis. Cool. Carla was breaking new ground. I plowed on.

“Anne, Pamela, would you be so kind as to help Carla remove her pants? She wants to show us something but has mysteriously lost the ability to move.”

“Absolutely, Don Theodore. We live to serve.” Anne stood and curtsied. That girl enjoyed her grand sport.

“Oh, goody. Another fair maiden falls into your clutches.” Pamela was bubbly at the prospect of enabling Carla’s descent into debauchery. The Smythe sisters were obviously not only eager, but also very aroused. They were voyeurs seeing real sex, having an exciting erotic experience one body removed. Helping me fuck others but blithely keeping to the perimeter. What were Pamela’s words when the Smythe sisters saw Marta’s condition in the hallway? ‘If she doesn’t come soon, I’ll die.’ Vicarious fucking? That needed to change.

They seemed well versed in handling this particular chore. The caresses and casual fondling so completely misdirected Carla, the little shopkeeper was naked to the audience before she knew it.

Continuing to tease the encircled nipple, I pushed Carla’s hand to her twat. “Show me what you did inside your pants. You were so hot you couldn’t stop yourself. Darling, are you broken, too hot to move? Do you want the English girls help? Pamela, how wet is she?”

Pamela, a little mesmerized herself, automatically fingered Carla’s cunt, taking extra care to stimulate the peeking clit. Her other hand attended to her own needs.

“How is she, Ms Smythe? Is our shop girl ready for the next step?”

“Very ready. Her pussy is dripping wet, but her arms and legs don’t appear to work at all well. We will have to help her.”

I led/carried Carla to the center of the parlor and lay on my back, feet to the door concealing Marta and Gina. The Smythe sisters arranged the hypnotized girl over me cowgirl-style.