Chapter 419: Wet and Wild

“I need to go find us a place to stay for the night and somewhere to eat dinner. You can get out to stretch your legs, but don’t walk away from the bus. I will be back as soon as I can,” I told them.

I walked toward the no-tell motel office. Instead of going in, I walked into the breezeway. I hurried on over to the waterpark.

“My name is David Jones. I have a busload of kids I’m taking to live at my foster care complex about six hours away. These kids have had a hard time with life, and a friend told me to come here but didn’t tell me any details of what I was going to find. I was wondering if you could help me give these kids at least one fond memory from their youth,” I told the owner and managers. “I don’t care what it costs.”

The owner gave me an odd look and then said, “I don’t believe in fate or coincidences. I only trust facts. Today we were supposed to get one of the multi-bus church groups. We staffed up to handle them, and they canceled out five minutes before they forfeited their deposit. Another group booked all the rooms, only to find out that when we called today to get arrival times, the FBI answered the phone. Needless to say, that group wasn’t the type of people we wanted to stay here anyway. I’m sure we can help each other. What can I do?”

“None of them have any bathing suits, for starters. I checked out your swim shop, and you have everything they will need. All I need is to lock the doors and pull the blinds once I get everyone in there. I ask that you trust me on this. I can get them changed and into the right bathing suits faster if I just strip them on the spot. None of them will be naked long enough to worry about modesty or getting turned on. If there is a way to get them out to the water park through a back or side door, once they are changed, that would be even better,” I told him. “We will need rooms for them all as well. There are forty of us. Including myself, there are a total of three adults. We do have some older teenagers that are helping keep order.”

He thought a minute, said, “twenty-four-X,” and burst out laughing.

Once he was able to stop long enough, he told me, “You’ve already seen my daughters and granddaughter naked four years ago, and they said then that they had no idea you had gotten them naked until you were helping them finish trying on a bathing suit. If I knew we didn’t have nosey people with anything else to do, I would let the kids use the indoor area nude if they wanted. Why don’t you get them, and we will get the swim shop ready to do an assembly line? Now, if you think they will let us do it, I can get thirty-seven staff members in there to speed things along. You hand them the bathing suits, and they will get the kids changed. Much of our off-season business is for special-needs kids, usually those with Down’s Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy. They are all certified to work with kids with challenges. I’m already paying them to be here today anyway. Once we get the kids off being kids, we can work through the other details.”

“Everyone back on the bus,” I told them.

Once they were all in, I got the bus turned around. I moved it to pull up to the door that led into the swim shop from outside.

“You can’t go to the waterpark without bathing suits. I worked out something with the owner, and this is how it is going to go. You will wait just inside the door. I am going to raid the racks to get what you need. I will give it to you, and a staff member will take you over to get you changed and check the fit. I would take care of you myself, but they have people trained here to do this with kids who need extra help. If I do it, you won’t get to the outer part until after they are starting to close it down for the day,” I told them.

No complaints. That is good. Desi isn’t going to let anyone help her but me.

Not needing to worry about styles, colors, or more than one having the same suit, I went to the first rack of one-piece suits and rolled it over. I handed them out to the girls that I knew they would fit properly. Rack by rack, I gave girls bathing suits. The boys were off in another part of the store, getting trunks and tank tops. In under an hour, I was the only one left in the store from our group. I grabbed some board shorts and a tank top.

“Want some help?” a group of the women on the staff asked.

“I’ve got this, but you are welcome to stay and watch,” I replied as I pulled my shirt over my head.

Their eyes didn’t pop out of their heads, but their nipples wanted some fresh air after I stood from taking off my pants and boxers. I shrugged as I pulled on the board shorts, got my dick down one leg, and pulled on the tank top.

The staff that helped the kids went out with them so that each kid had someone all to themselves. Each kid got a bag for their clothes, and anything purchased for them went on my tab. They swiped my black credit card.

It wasn’t declined. What a shock!

Not having to drive anymore, I took the owner’s offer for one of the ciders I liked today. We worked over the various charges I would need to pay, but it wasn’t exorbitant.

They had the rooms set up for groups with twin beds instead of queens or kings, six beds per room. Based on what kids needed to sleep together, I looked over the data on my phone, and we got it all worked out. Boys were on one level, girls on another. All those with boys and girls that needed to share a bed were on the girl level. The connecting doors between the rooms would remain open so we could supervise until the kids went to sleep, then we would close them.

“It costs more per person, but with your group, I do suggest that we get them wristbands that will let them graze all day today and tomorrow, for as late you choose to stay. The previous groups were booked for two days. The wristbands are color-coded for those with diet restrictions and allergies. We code them to be able to open their room door as well. It lets us use the same technology throughout the property. Being tied to food is a fantastic way to keep kids from losing them, and thus their room keys,” he told me. “Now, I’m planning on getting you a little drunk so that the girls here can take advantage of you. They saw that dick, the bag full of rubbers you removed from your pants, and how you are choosing to spend your money giving these kids a minivacation. As a man, I’m not supposed to know, but it is a requirement as the boss and owner. All the girls, well young women, women, whatever the current terms are this week, are on birth control. At least they are supposed to be, and if they get pregnant, they have signed a waiver holding the waterpark and any guest responsible free of any legal actions. We know that covers my ass, but with the courts how they are, they would likely convince some family court judge to get child support until the kid is eighteen. Now, this isn’t something I should tell you, but you are someone they won’t mind me letting know. Any girls in red shorts or red stripes on their suits are virgins, or that was the original plan. It is also used by girls who are out of order or have chosen they aren’t interested in sex right now. The guys have adopted the same system. Because of the church groups coming here, we have more of the red shorts staff on during those times when there is less supervision on the kids. Others do come on shift for dinner until we shut the park down for the night. Even the high-and-mighty, holier-than-though bible-thumpers cheat on their spouses and lovers when away from watchful eyes. I’ve not stopped the practice because the girls don’t make it easy on them to enjoy an eighteen to twenty-one-year-old. The guys working here aren’t as picky because they get what they want without needing anything extra.”

“They are welcome to try. I won’t be saying any of the women need to stop wearing red. If they want to say that I tried out their water slide, that is up to them, even if I didn’t. They have to work with each other, not me,” I told him.

He said that was something he respected immensely. Too many of the girls that have worked here got visitors and staff saying bad things about them that made working here unbearable. Good, hardworking girls and guys quit because of it. Sex was sex, but no one else needed to know about it.

After I had a few more ciders, he suggested where I might want to go hang out to relax away from the kids.

Yeah, right. I’m going to hit up the water slides!

Sure, I broke in line a lot. I would grab the kid who looked the most scared, waiting to ride, carried them up, got them in my lap, and headed down the slide. Boys or girls, I didn’t care. Occasionally, I would grab one of the women working here, too. I didn’t grope them, even though I got the vibe that they wouldn’t mind. I always had my arms around their stomachs when I pulled them with me until we came out the other end. Some were a little pissed that they got wet, and it messed up their hair, but that was easy enough to fix.

All play and no work...

The kids are kids, no matter how well-behaved they are most of the time.

Some only needed a timeout to get themselves back on track and some needed food. Others needed their bare butts spanked out in front of everyone. A few got mouthy.

“I will tell you the same as I’ve said to all the others with us, you can walk out that door, and we won’t chase you down. If you aren’t on the bus when we leave, you aren’t coming with us. You are always welcome to make your way to the foster care complex and leave there when you want. Right now, you are my responsibility, and I will not tolerate this shit. I stopped here so that each of you could be kids and have fun. What you did isn’t making it fun for anyone. Cut it out or go to your room, get a shower, put on your clothes, have dinner, and go back to your room. Do you understand me?” I asked each of them.

They got the point, well, all but one girl. She got spanked again, taken to her room, bathed, dressed, and made to stay beside me, one of the adults, or the two seventeen-year-olds. About eight-thirty, I took her up to get to bed.

“I’m sorry, David,” she told me as I was tucking her into bed. “I’ve never gotten to be happy for long before something made it unhappy again. Like today, sometimes I make it that way. I can’t promise I won’t do it again tomorrow, but I will try to behave. Please don’t send me away.”

I pulled her up into my arms to hold her and let her cry.

Once I tucked her back into bed, I told her, “I never said I would send anyone away, but you are free to leave if you want. None of you are prisoners. I’m taking you to a place where you can be part of a big family. We all have bad days. I hope that you won’t feel you need to have as many anymore.”

“Ok,” she told me, turned on her side, and was sound asleep.

I went back down to find some food and have more of the cider. It was nice to have that light buzz for a change. It didn’t go unnoticed when I would see a kid about to fall asleep where they sat and went to take care of them. Probably half of them I got into one of the locker rooms, stripped, washed, dried, and got into at least a nightshirt. All of them wanted to stay up with everyone else. By ten at night, only a few of the older kids were still awake. I did make them all shower and change for bed before they could come back to hang out in the food court. Those that couldn’t be zombie-walked to their rooms were carried, primarily, by me.

“You kids are sleeping where you sit if you fall asleep there,” I told those who remain. “I’m off foster-dad duty for the night.”

I finally got to enjoy being an adult among a group of adults close to my age.

“I hope that you don’t mind, but I got you all rooms here for the night if you want to sleep here instead of going home,” I told them. “There are four times as many of you working than cars in the parking lot. You all have your room, so no need to worry about sleeping in your underwear or nude.”

One of the girls, wearing a red-striped suit and red shorts, joked, “I could sleep nude in your bed.”

“You can crash in my room if you like. It has two kings, and I’m sure we have a nightshirt or pajamas to fit you, so you don’t have to sleep in the nude unless you want. I don’t think I snore, so you should get a pretty good night’s sleep,” I replied. “I can’t promise you won’t have a kid or two to climb into bed with you because you are in my room.”

Yes, I just told you to sleep with me if you wanted and didn’t make it sexual.

She gave me an odd look and then asked, “David? You are serious, aren’t you? I can just crash in your room, and you don’t care? Aren’t you worried that I might steal your credit cards or money? Give you an STD? Get pregnant?”

“I don’t think sleeping nude in bed with me is how you could give me an STD. I am positive that you don’t get pregnant that way. I have a three-year-old daughter,” I explained. “If you took my money, I would get more. You can’t use my credit cards no matter how hard you try. They will be instantly deactivated and more couriered to me.”

“I don’t believe you,” another of the red-shorts girls said. “You’re saying you can have a naked and willing woman in bed with you and not screw her?”

Instead of answering her directly, I turned to the teen girls in our group and asked them if I screwed any of the horny girls that got in my bed last night to have sex. I followed that by asking them if they were naked in my bed, would they let me do them? Then I asked if they thought that I would have sex with them even then.

Looking back at the woman, “I have hot, horny, thirteen-year-old girls that I am helping out from a bad situation. I could take all their virginities, and they wouldn’t complain, even if they didn’t want sex with me or anyone. These girls want me to screw them, and they know that if they get into my bed, the most that the girls will get is my hand cupping their ass as they sleep while cuddled up to me. I’ve bathed them all and examined them to be sure there were no immediate health needs. I know enough about the female body that I know that each of the girls with me aren’t big enough inside to have sex with anyone, and they aren’t yet where we need to worry about them getting pregnant. Why would I risk getting one of you pregnant? I know that single moms have it hard trying to feed, clothe, and house their kids. As I said, if you want to crash in my room, then come on up. If all you want is sex with me, go use your fingers and imagination in the room I got for you.”

The skinniest and shortest of the women asked, “Will you wash my back?”

“Sure. I will wash your front too if you want. I have a three-year-old daughter, remember? I know how to do that properly and not get soap in places that will burn when you pee the next time,” I replied. “If you can find me some scissors, I will trim up that wild hair monster keeping you from taking off your shorts.”

One of the other red-shorts women said, “I’ve got everything needed for that and a portable wax station I can bring up if you help me wax from the waist down.”

“Sure,” I told her.

I then looked over each of the women. Only two who were screwing anything that had a dick, including a Great Dane named Shaggy. They need any work on their pussy hairs. All the red-shorts ones did, but two were on the rag and cranky.

“I don’t want to hear a single complaint. Pick which of you is going first, and let’s go. You can hate me all you want, but I know how to help you both sleep like babies and feel great tomorrow, even given you have a few more days to go,” I told them.

Neither chose. I got the one nearest me, guided the woman into the bathroom, got her undressed, used some toilet paper to wrap up the tampon I pulled while they sat on the toilet, and started the shower. I got her in first and then stripped to get in with her when it was up to temp.

After washing her hair and body, I turned her back to my chest. I pushed up behind her and then got her back under the water. Gently, but with firm pressure, I massaged her uterus in a way that my implant-enhanced vision showed. It got as much of it as I could down to where the big cramp that I triggered pushed it out. I helped steady her as she cleaned herself out. Soon she was dried, re-plugged, and heading out to lay on one of the beds.

That girl was snoring softly when I went into the bedroom. I sent the other one in to unplug and get in the shower while I gave the one I just washed a massage. I repeated the same for the other woman, except that a few flips of her clit made her come hard enough that it pushed most of what was still up in her uterus before.

“It is messy, but please? Just a little while? You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant,” she begged as she tried to figure out how to get me to rise for her request.