Chapter 33

Devlin and Jim lay behind the bushes, arms around each other, watching a sailboat just a few yards away. It hadn't dropped its anchor, but the four guys on deck didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave, and they kept staring at the island.

"They're probably hoping to see a naked woman," Devlin murmured in Jim's ear.

"Well, this is supposed to be a nudist resort, though it doesn't advertise itself as such."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because some prissy church group would get up in a collective high dudgeon about people being naked and probably up to 'who knows what'."

"You mean something like this?" She traced the rim of his ear with her tongue, and slid her hand down to cup his cock and balls.

"Or this," he replied, cupping her breasts. "I still can't get enough of these. Almost all of the breasts I see that are your size are either on a grandmother, or are the work of a surgeon."

"I can assure you these are all me."

"I can tell, you have large areola." He bent and kissed her nipples. "Your nipples are so sensitive," he added as she jumped a little.

"They've always been." She suppressed a giggle. "You have no idea what it's like to wear a bra with a seam that's right over your nipples. They stand straight up and attract every eye in the place and you almost want to rip it off and rub them to get some relief."

"I didn't think women were always aware of when that happened."

She shrugged. "You aren't, not always. You catch a look out of the corner of your eye, look down, and there they are. Other times, though, like now..."

He rubbed his thumbs over her stiffened nipples. "Like now?" He glanced back out at the sailboat. "Do you think they can see us? They're just sitting there."

"Well, it is a sailboat, and there doesn't seem to be any breeze."

"Most sailboats have an auxiliary engine for times like this." He continued to watch the sailboat. "Maybe they heard us."

"I didn't think I was that loud."

"You weren't, but you'd be surprised how sound carries next to the water."

She considered that. "I can't help the noise I make," she said at last. "It's rather hard to keep quiet when a guy has his tongue on your clit."

"I imagine. At least you were quiet when we were doing it."

"Well... yeah, but that's because you kept kissing me."

"Like this?" He turned her face to his and kissed her, his tongue slipping briefly between her lips.

"Umm, do that again." He kissed her more thoroughly. Afterwards she brushed the hair away from his face. "Fair warning--don't start something you're not prepared to finish. And you do want to conserve your strength for tonight, don't you?"

"I have all afternoon to rest, but you do have a point." He slid down her body, pausing to drop kisses on her tummy. "Now try not to scream."

She put her hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her laugh. He'd put both her legs over his shoulder, and was blowing warm air across her sex. He followed by a kiss on the inside of each thigh. She pushed up against him, demanding a deeper touch.

He licked the length of her sex, his tongue worming into her wet heat. She put her hands on his head, holding him there. She'd closed her eyes, letting the heat fill her.

"You do that so well," she finally murmured. She wanted to take all of him, but was frustrated, knowing he could only give her an inch or so of his tongue.

"How about this?" he asked softly, and descended on the foreskin over her clit.

"Ah." She bit back whatever noise she'd been about to make. He was winding her up so tight she knew she was going to cum. And when he slipped a finger in where his tongue had been... She clenched as one shuddering wave of fire seared her.

She finally had to push him away. Suddenly she was too sensitive down there. She lay on her side, curled slightly, fighting for breath, her hands covering her sex.

"We..." She stopped, breathing hard. Her body was filled with millions of points of sparkling light. "We, uh, we should probably be getting back. Sabrina's probably wondering what I've done with you."

"I don't think she's wondering." He helped her up, and then stooped to collect their things. "Want to get dressed?"

She shook her head. "That would mean letting something touch me down there. I'm not ready for that just yet."

He tossed the towel over his shoulder and offered her his arm. "All right then."

"Let's... let's go slow," she said. "My legs are a little weak."

They took their time. Devlin felt like she was stumbling along the trail, even with her sandals on. Jim supported her, for which she was grateful. Finally, though, she had to stop. There was a bench set beside the trail. She spread her towel over it and sat.

"How did you and Sabrina meet?" she asked. "Are you two dating?"

"I'm one of the grounds crew at her resort," he said. "We tried dating, but it didn't work, and we were both aware of it. We don't have that much in common, well, except sex. So we get together a couple of times a week."

"That's convenient. So I take it you're a nudist?"

He shook his head. "Not originally. Her parents were looking for an off-season groundskeeper and general handyman, and I applied for the job. I knew what the place was, of course, but there's no nudity in the wintertime. It was later, at the start of summer, that I decided to try the nudity thing. It was that, or lose my job, and I rather liked the job."

"You mean you cut the grass and other things in the nude?"

"Sort of. I wear leggings and an apron when I cut the grass. I wouldn't want any of the rocks I hit to catch me in a delicate place."

"That would be terrible."

"Most of the rest of the things I do naked. After a while you get so comfortable with it that you don't notice it. Are you a nudist?"

"Not really. I've thought about it, though."

"You should come down and try it."

"Um, maybe. Nudity doesn't mean the same thing to a girl that it does to a guy."

"Yeah, I've heard women talking about it all of the time. It's a cultural thing." He glanced down the path. "Ready?"

Devlin nodded. "Yeah, my legs definitely feel stronger. I had fun, and maybe we can do this again."

"When we have more time for it," he said, nodding.

By then they were aback at the house. Devlin started toward the hot tub, but Linda waved at her from the patio.

"You got a phone call, Devlin. It was local, and he left his number. The phone's on the table next to the door."

Devlin gave Jim a kiss, pressing up against his warmth and strength. "Maybe tonight," she murmured. "Or if not..."

"... if not, then certainly later." He cupped her bottom, his tongue plundering her mouth.

When they finally broke the kiss Devlin had to stop a moment to regain her composure. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She'd like nothing more than to take Jim somewhere and go at it until they were both too tired to move. But that would have to wait. He was going to need his strength tonight, and right now she was just a little too tender for comfort.

Devlin spread her towel out on the chair and eased down. She'd return this call, and then spend some restorative time in the hot tub. She'd have to wash her hair, too. She plucked at it; she had sand and bits of leaves all through it, and most of it was a tangled mess that she needed to do something about. She chuckled--she knew she looked like a mess, but right now she didn't care. She was a happy mess.

As she dialed the phone she was surprised to see it was nearly noon. She didn't think she and Jim had spent that much time together. That just showed how time could fly when you were having fun.

"Hello?"

Devlin's heart thudded. It was Evan, the guy she'd met at the dance the night before. "Uh, hi. Evan? This is Devlin, Devlin McCabe."

"Hi, Devlin! Look, I was wondering: were you doing anything today?"

"Well..." She stopped. How could she tell him she was about to get ready for an orgy with a dozen people, only a few of whom she'd met? "Um, not really, though the gal I came down with, she and I have plans for tonight."

"That's okay. I'm expected to be at my parents over on Sugar Loaf for dinner this evening. But I was wondering, would you like to have lunch, and then maybe go jet-skiing or something?"

"I, uh... sure." She didn't know what else to say. He was nice, and he was kind of cute, and she knew she really needed to make an effort to meet guys. Goodness knows she wasn't going to be starting any long-term relationships with the guys she met here on the island.

"Look, it's 11:45 right now. Could you meet me at the clubhouse in 30 minutes?"

Devlin plucked at her hair. "Make it 12:30. My hair's a mess, and it'll take me that long to comb it out."

Evan laughed. "All right, then, 12:30 at the clubhouse. I'll see you then."

Devlin sat there for a moment; she'd just agreed to go on a date. She looked down at her bare body. "I definitely have to do something about that." She laughed and headed for the cabin.

Forty minutes later, showered, combed and brushed out, she headed across the bridge. She was wearing her blue floral print sundress--she liked this one better than the red one she'd worn the night before because she could unbutton the top and make this a skirt/halter combo. She was still feeling a little tender between her legs, but that should be okay, she wasn't planning on having sex with him, and she should be all right by supper.

She tried to count the number of dates she'd been on in the last few years, the number that didn't involve sex. She'd gone to the prom with a boy she'd dated haphazardly named Troy. He was the last boy she could remember going out on a date with that she hadn't had sex with. The prom had been on a Saturday night, and she'd spent Friday night at Emma's. She'd had sex with three men that night, and won the 'cum shot for distance' contest; she still had that balloon and cork somewhere.

While Troy was dancing with her she'd thought of the night before. She'd done it standing up with one guy, and had even tried to walk across the dance floor at Emma's with the guy's cock stuck up in her. That had been an experience; she wondered if guys always felt their cocks when they walked. But he'd bent her over a table next to the dance floor, and they'd gone at it like two bunnies in heat. And 24 hours later she was in the arms of another guy, only he wasn't thrusting into her as hard as he could, he wasn't making her scream as she came, and she didn't feel his cum dripping down her leg as they left the dance floor.

She and Troy had split rather amiably two weeks after the prom. He'd been comfortable to be around; for one thing, he was the only guy she'd met who didn't seem to be constantly trying to look down her top or up her skirt. She knew he'd gone to Notre Dame, partly because he was Catholic, but also because they had a fantastic archaeology program, and he wanted to be an archaeologist.

There'd been Jeff, of course, but they'd had sex, so she wasn't sure she should count him. After she'd started college there'd been... ? She stopped, puzzled. She couldn't think of anyone. She'd been loyal to Jeff, and as a result had missed out on all sorts of things.

"Well, this'll be a first," she murmured. "It's good to try something new." She pushed open the gate at the end of the bridge and headed up the walk towards the clubhouse.

Evan was wearing slacks and a polo shirt and standing on the steps of the clubhouse. He turned at the sound of her step, his face lighting up.

"You look lovely."

"Well, thank you." She smiled and faked a curtsy. "You look rugged and handsome." He did, too. He didn't look at all heavily muscled, like what she thought a professional athlete should look like.

"Oh, this. Baseball has a dress code, and after six years in the minors it's a habit now."

"Dress code?" She stopped to look at a guy wearing ragged denim shorts and a tank top. "Even here?"

"Even here," he nodded. "The Keys are one of the few places where shorts are acceptable just about anywhere, but..." He smiled. "Habits are habits." He gestured toward the parking lot. "Shall we?"

"Where are we going?" She fell in step beside him.

"There's a place on the other side of the island that makes great conch fritters, and it's not too far from where we can rent a couple of jet skis."

"I've never been on a jet ski."

"It's a lot like riding a horse or a bicycle." He smiled down at her. "If you're worried about falling off we can rent a two-person jet ski."

"That might be better."

His car was an older Mustang convertible, red, with a personalized license plate that said 'Deuce'. She asked him about that.

"Bought the car with my signing bonus, got it used from a dealer in Miami. I only drive it when I'm back here in the Keys. 'Deuce' is another nickname for a curve ball."

"You seem to have a thing about that. Thank you," she added as he held the door for her.

"It's one of the things I'm good at. So, last night you said you were a student at ISU. What are you taking?"

"I'm a Business Major, which means I spend a lot of time learning about accounting, but not enough to be an accountant."

"You don't make it sound that exciting." He glanced at the traffic and pulled into the steady stream of cars and trucks.

"Mostly it isn't. Last term we started studying marketing. That's more interesting, and I've already started using some of the things I've learned."

"Oh? Doing what?"

"I sell lingerie. Oh, not the things you see at Victoria's Secret, I sell the things a girl expects to wear all day long."

He chuckled. "Are you telling me that women who wear things from Victoria's Secret don't intend to keep their clothes on very long?"

"Trust me, some seductive clothes pinch in all of the wrong places. It's almost like they want you to get out of them as soon as possible."

"I'll take your word on that." After a couple of blocks he pulled into the parking lot of an older looking restaurant. "This place has outdoor dining, which is almost a requirement here in the Keys."

The restaurant had a dark brown exterior framed by palm trees. It was right next to the beach and she could see a deck extending out over the water. It was almost picture-perfect, just the kind of tropical setting she'd imagined when Krissi had first suggested this trip.

They were seated on the deck with the sun behind them. "I don't know anything of what's on this menu," Devlin said as she read through it. I recognize some of the seafood, but that's it."

Evan nodded. "Conch fritters for a start," he told the waiter. "And then the salad."

"Salad?" she asked. "I thought guys went for the manly, he-man lunches."

"Sometimes we do, but if we're going to be in the water in a bit we don't want to load ourselves down."

"Well, true." She smiled at the waiter when he brought their iced tea. "As I was getting ready I was thinking," she said as she took a sip. "I don't know that much about baseball."

He shrugged. "What's there to say? It's a strange game. It looks organized, and yet we call plays. And other times..." His voice trailed off. "Baseball is fun, and it has a lot more thinking than, say, basketball. But on the other hand, if you think too much, you get in trouble."

"Sort of a Zen thing."

"Not exactly, but close."

"And you pitch."

He nodded. "I throw the ball over the plate and do my best to make sure the batter misses. Like most pitchers I'm successful about 70% of the time."

"70%? I thought..."

"Batters foul the ball off, or hit it to a fielder. A good hitter is successful 21⁄2 times out of 10. A fantastic hitter is successful 3 times out of 8. Fortunately there are only a few of that caliber."

"Who do you play for?"

"The Charlotte Knights, they're the Triple-A affiliate of the Chicago White Sox."

"Okay, I've heard of the White Sox. When I was growing up there was a neighbor of ours who was a White Sox fan."

"Most people seem to be Cubs fans." He shrugged. "That's just the way it is."

"Yeah, I have an uncle who lives in Rockford, and he's a Cubs fan. He wears the hat everywhere he goes. I can't picture him without it."

"We joke that we're the Second City's Second Team. It does get a little old after a while, though."

"So Triple-A is a minor league?"

He nodded. "It's the top of the minor leagues. We have guys who've been called up to the White Sox. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don't."

"They don't?"

"They stay with the major league team, or they get traded somewhere else. That happened to my roommate last year. He was part of a trade to the Colorado Rockies. He ended up in their Triple-A franchise in Colorado Springs.

"Enough about me. You said something last night about selling lingerie?" He grinned. "I admit I immediately thought of something racy."

"It's anything but," Devlin said. "Oh, we have a couple of things in our catalogue that could be described as daring, but most of what we have is what a woman would wear every day."

"So if somebody wants something that's revealing..."

"I send them to Victoria's Secret. But if she wants a sports bra, or she's had some medical problems, I can sell her something."

"Medical problems?"

"A radical mastectomy, or some other procedure. I sell a lot of those. I also sell a lot to girls who are large, like me." She shrugged to emphasize her bosom. "Guys might not believe it, but big boobs can be a pain, especially in the back."

"That's what I've heard. Do you do a lot of selling?"

"More than I expected. It depends on how aggressive you are. There's a girl who does what I do over at Illinois University, and her sales are a quarter of mine. I've gone after every woman's team at school except the swimming team, and I got myself listed as a Preferred Provider by Blue Cross Blue Shield of Illinois. I could probably make a full-time living at it if I wasn't in school."