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The Wilkerson Institute

By: The Wilkerson Institute



Also very plush and well appointed was the blonde quietly standing to one side, next to my neatly stacked bags. Delia motioned the girl over, and introduced us. "Mr. deFrame, this is Jeanine. Jeanine is your room steward, and will be taking care of laundry, bedding, cleaning, and such. If you have any problems, or wish to make a change, just let the concierge know, and we'll be happy to accommodate you."

I looked at Jeanine. She was wearing the classic "French Maid" outfit, a short black dress with built in white apron, short puffy sleeves, very low cut bodice, rather short hemline, black fishnet stockings or pantyhose, black high heels. The bodice was really cut low, showing an amazing amount of cleavage. This girl couldn't drown with cement blocks tied to her feet. Her nametag was perched almost off to the side. She had her hair cut short in a pageboy style.

I looked back at Delia. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Excellent," she said to me. Again turning to the maid, she continued, "Mr. deFrame has indicated he'd like to rest and freshen up before he ventures onto the grounds."

"Of course," replied Jeanine. "I delayed unpacking your bags, sir, until you arrived," she said to me.

"I'll be leaving now, Mr. deFrame. Oh, one last item. You have an appointment scheduled for Wednesday morning with Mr. Wilkerson. I'm afraid he can't see you till then. If there's a problem or conflict, just let the concierge know and we can reschedule. Good day."

My guide left and closed the door behind us. I turned back to Jeanine.

"Will you be resting first, then freshening up, or the other way around, sir?"

"Right now all I want is a long, hot shower and a nap."

"Very good, sir. The bath is right through here. I'll unpack for you. Any special instructions?" The last question sounded intriguing. No, I better not. I still didn't know quite what to expect.

"No. Unpacking will be fine."

"Yes, sir."

I walked into the bath and closed the door. As I expected, a second door opened into the bedroom. I closed this door as well. The bathroom was huge. Two marble sinks, a matching whirlpool bathtub, a shower for three, Italian tile, toilet and bidet. Not that I needed a bidet. Which made me wonder, who would be needing one, here?. An interesting question. But no matter, I stripped down and hung my clothes on a hook, and turned on the water. Within seconds I was under a stinging, hot, shower. I luxuriated in the water for a seeming age, and felt the miles of travel wash away with my grime.

To my surprise, when I stepped out, my clothes had disappeared, to be replaced by a long, plush velour robe. Jeanine was being quite efficient. Still drying my hair, I opened the bedroom door and walked in.

Jeanine was still there, putting my luggage in the bottom of a closet. She looked up and said, "I've unpacked everything, sir. Your clothes are in the dresser and the closet. I noticed some dirty clothing, and separated it. I'll see that it's either dry-cleaned, or cleaned and pressed. You'll have it back by tomorrow morning."

"Well, thank you. That's very efficient, indeed."

"Thank you, sir. Feeling better now?"

"Yes, quite. But I still want that nap."

"Of course. I've turned down the bed for you." And she had, too. I stood there like an idiot for a moment, not knowing what to do. Ask her to leave? Tip her? Was she going to stay and tuck me in?

Jeanine seemed to understand my confusion. She came over from the closet and took my elbow. "Now, why don't you just come over here," she said, leading me to the edge of the bed. "Just sit down here." I sat on the edge, where it was turned down. "I think I can help you relax."

And then, as I sat there and dumbly looked up at her, she reached behind her back. In seconds, she had unzipped her maid's uniform. It fell away from her front and slid to the floor. Deftly, she kicked it off to one side.

Wow! Just WOW! All she had on under the uniform was fishnet stockings, thigh high, right up to the tops of her thighs. And her high heels. Her tits were really huge, with small, pale nipples. Her waist was narrow, with a very pleasant curve to it. A deep navel. She was a natural blonde, with faint, very curly pubic hair. Wide hips. Pleasantly thick thighs, but not lumpy or ugly, tapering down to very tiny feet.

I was awestruck. Almost immediately after stripping, she knelt at my feet and placed her hands on my knees. Effortlessly she spread them apart, and moved between them. Reaching up, she untied my robe and spread it apart. My cock literally sprang out of the opening. I hadn't been this hard in ages. Without a skipped beat, she leaned in and wrapped her lips around the head.

The sensation was pure heaven. I could have died a happy man at that instant. Lord knows she could have sucked me to death if she had tried. And Lord, could she suck! Not content with simply sucking the tip, she continued lowering her mouth onto my organ. She only stopped when it was completely engulfed, with my pubic hairs tickling her nose and chin. And her tongue! It was swirling on all sides, bottom and top. Her cheeks were puffing in and out. The action was like an erotic vacuum cleaner. And her teeth never touched me. Not a single nip.

I looked down on her actions. Her head was bobbing up and down furiously on my root. Her long fingernails were gently scratching and rubbing my balls. Oh, that felt good! I hadn't been laid in weeks, and they were just filled with come. Below, I could see those huge tits bouncing up and down, and side to side. I think that's what did it for me. With a mighty groan, I cried, "I'm coming!"

Amazingly, this only spurred Jeanine on. The vacuum cleaner went into overdrive, and she sucked everything I could give her. Her head stopped bobbing near the top of the stroke, with just my cockhead between her lips. One hand gently squeezed my nuts, while the other furiously pumped my shaft. She was pumping me dry, and I gladly accommodated the demand. I don't think any of my come landed in her mouth, it just went straight down her throat, I was spewing so hard.

Finally, the well ran dry. I collapsed backwards onto the bed, my legs and balls still hanging over the edge. Jeanine stood up again, and I weakly dragged myself back from the precipice. Laying atop the turned down bedclothes, I sprawled in the center of the bed.

But Jeanine wasn't down, yet. Walking to the foot of the bed, she crawled onto the bed and buried her face in my crotch again. Maybe she really was going to try to suck me to death. Although I thought I was done for, my partner in crime came to life again. As she sucked on my flaccid cock, I looked down, and could see it stiffening again, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. But she didn't plan to suck me dry again.

As soon as I was erect, Jeanine pulled her mouth off me and pulled her legs up beneath her. Moving quickly and surely, she promptly straddled my waist. Both hands had never left my cock during this movement. Now they positioned my dick between her legs, and she sank down onto it, impaling herself.

If the blowjob was good, this was great. My back arched as I thrust up to meet her descent. But the urgency of before was gone. Although my hips kept bucking upward with the pleasure, my orgasm could be delayed for a while.

This seemed to suit Jeanine just fine. Her hands were still at our now joined crotches. But now, in addition to rubbing the length of my shaft, they also were furiously working her clitoris. She had stretched her pussy lips, and her clit, small and blood engorged, seemed to throb from the attention. I reached up and cupped her breasts. My thumbs and forefingers whirled around the nipples, pinching and pulling. She had small nipples, but they were pleasantly warm and hard. This had an electrifying affect on her. Her breath became ragged and coarse, and sweat began rolling down her chest. Her tits became delightfully slick and beads of sweat dripped down onto my chest.

I kept up this action, and her pelvis, previously moving slowly atop mine, began bouncing faster and faster. Her hands were in a blur on her clit and my cock. I could feel myself approaching the edge again, but this only made me increase my tit action. Finally, with a ragged shriek, Jeanine collapsed onto my chest. Both hands snaked down between us, and she squeezed my balls, one in each hand. That did it. I exploded upwards into her. She lay on top of me until I fell asleep, my limp cock still inside her.


***

I awoke in the same position as I had gone to sleep in, sprawled across the bed. Jeanine had left. Maybe she had to tuck somebody else in. Before going, she did cover me with the robe I was still wearing. I was still atop the turned down sheets.

What the hell, what did I expect, anyway? Literally. I had no idea what to expect. I got up.

Another shower and I felt fairly fresh and clean again. I wandered back into the bedroom and opened the closet. And was rather surprised by what I found. The closet was a large wall closet. Behind the bifold doors on one side were my clothes, on the other side were a large collection of ladies garments. Nighties, negligees, gowns, robes, teddies, the whole nine yards! I looked through them. They were all quite sheer and seductive. I guess they allowed the girls a chance to change without returning to wherever they returned to.

I grabbed a pair of slacks, a shirt, and a sport coat, and threw them on the bed. Walking to the large dresser, I opened it to look for some shorts and socks. No shorts. Curious, I turned back to the closet and popped open my suitcases. There they were. I guess Jeanine figured I wouldn't be needing them. Maybe I wouldn't. Fuck it, I closed up the suitcases and tossed them back in the closet.

I grabbed the slacks and pulled them on over my bare ass. What other surprises awaited me? Going back to the dresser, I pulled the other drawers open. The bottom drawer had more women's clothing, a wide variety of stockings, several different sizes, both garter length and thigh high, a few garter belts, several types of panties and bras, and so forth. This was becoming quite interesting.

Continuing dressing, I looked into the nightstands. One had a number of vibrators and dildos, along with a tube of KY jelly. The other had several different types of restraints, handcuffs, straps, ropes, shackles, and the sort. Maybe Jeanine had a kinky streak. Other drawers contained several pornographic magazines, mostly mainline like Playboy and Penthouse, some not quite so usual, and a few videotapes. I had a pretty good idea what kind, but I couldn't find how to turn on the TV in the bedroom.

Finished dressing, I pulled out a pair of socks from the dresser, then threw them back. If Don Johnson could dress like this, fuck it, so could I. I slipped on my loafers and went out to the living room. Back to the investigation.

The living room didn't seem to hold as many surprises. I still couldn't figure out how to turn on the tube. An endtable held some more magazines and tapes, but that was about all. No whips and chains. The bar was well stocked, but that really wasn't a surprise. The kitchen was semi-bare, except for some beer and a few salted snacks. A fruit bowl was filled. A Xeroxed schedule was on the buffet near the entrance, detailing events and doings I had no idea of, in places I didn't know about.

It was now late afternoon. Time to see what there was to see. I walked back out into the hallway, back to the elevators. Debra was no longer concierge, a different girl was behind the desk, now. As I approached, she stood.

"Mr. deFrame. I hope you're feeling better now?"

"Yes, quite," I replied.

"Good. I'm Terry. Debra mentioned that you were resting. When you woke, I was to give you the guided tour and get you oriented to the Wilkerson. Is that all right?," she said in a light soprano.

"Sure, no problem. What do we do first?" I looked Terry over. Terry was considerably different from Jeanine. For one thing, she was tiny, barely five feet tall. Very slim. I doubted she weighed 98 pounds soaking wet. Not that this was a problem. I thought the sight of her naked and soaking wet would be quite stimulating. She was very pretty, with a classic oval face, shoulder length blonde hair, and enough curves to keep a fellow more than interested. She, too, was in the yellow skirt, jacket, and high heels which seemed to be the uniform for the staff. Very becoming. I felt my cock begin to stir. Maybe Jeanine hadn't killed it after all.

Terry pushed a button under the desk, and walked around to my side. "I just called for my replacement. As soon as she's here, we can go." We talked for maybe five minutes, mostly about my trip in, when the elevator opened. Another girl, similarly attired, stepped out, and we stepped in. Moments later we were back in the lobby. Tucking an arm through mine, she led me down the hallway.

To be honest, this time the lecture took hold. Earlier, when Delia was showing me around, I was too tired to really pay attention. Now, fresh and fit, I found everything fascinating. A fairly large number of men were present, all being squired around, or otherwise accompanied by, one or more very pretty young women. The women, again, a surprisingly large number, were all quite exquisite, centerfold quality. Mode of dress for the girls was fairly casual, the vast majority wearing some combination of very short skirts, various revealing tops, and high heels. Only a few seemed to be wearing brassieres. A few were in nothing more than thong and string bikinis. Pool side, I guess.

Terry showed me around the west wing, keeping up a pleasant patter the entire time. I've already mentioned the restaurant and night club. A small, dark bar, with several very secluded booths, joined them. Then we went out a side door and walked outside.

I should have left the jacket upstairs. Mexico in the summer afternoon is rather warm. I slung it over my free shoulder, and together we walked down a path through a large garden. Shortly, we went through another door. I found we had entered the south wing near the pro shops. Terry asked if I golfed or played tennis.

"No golf. And I haven't played tennis in years."

"I'm surprised," she remarked. "You seem to be in excellent shape. Do you work out at all?"

"Some. I jog twice a week, and I like to swim. I guess I'm just lucky."

"I guess so," she said, looking up at me. "All I have to do is look at a cheesecake, and I put on five pounds." She puffed out her cheeks like a chipmunk. We both laughed.

Going through the golf shop, she grabbed a set of keys for a golf cart and said, "Come on, let's take a ride!" We continued on outside, where she hopped into a cart. I climbed in opposite her, and we bounced and puttered on our merry way. Despite my lack of interest in golf, we rode along the course for a while. I didn't mind at all. Terry exuded an air of available sexuality, and I delighted in watching her legs working the pedals.

Shortly, she turned off the golf path and drove past the tennis courts. About half were open air, the rest under an open-sided pavilion. We continued on, past the courts, and drove around a pool area. Several small, and one large, swimming pools were set amid more gardens. I was surprised by the time the tour had taken when we pulled up at the pro shop again. And Terry mentioned several other places, such as a riding stable and jogging paths, which we hadn't seen.

One really fascinating fact, which she didn't mention, but was quite obvious. Everywhere we went, the golf course, the gardens, even the tennis courts and swimming pools, had a large number of very secluded spots. Spots where a fellow could easily retire with a young lady for an intimate alfresco interlude. In fact, I suspected a few were in use. I had seen several golf carts stopped near such spots, with no one in sight. While I hadn't taken advantage of such a spot, I had the distinct feeling Terry would have been willing, if not eager, to introduce me to such a site. Ah well, opportunity lost.

Once back inside, the air conditioned air felt chilly, so I put on my jacket again. Terry put her arm through mine again, and led me back towards the south wing. "Thirsty? I am! Let's get a drink!," she said, leading me into the bar.

We ordered drinks, and I asked if all the girls I had seen were students here.

"Almost all. If they have white nametags, like mine they're students. Blue means they're permanent staff, like the doctor, the chef, and the teachers."

"Teachers?," I asked, in confusion.

"Oh, yes! We all study, five days a week! Actually, for only half days. We split shift, half going to school mornings, the rest in the afternoon."

"Where? I didn't see anybody going to school."

"Oh, well, I mean, it's not really on the tour, so to speak. And by now, it's closed for the day. The school is the small building down behind the jogging trails."

"I'm fascinated! What do you study?"

"Nothing special, you know, the usual, readin', 'ritin', 'n' 'rithmetic."

"But why?"

"Well, quite a few of us come here without a good formal education, I mean, like a high school diploma. But Mr. Wilkerson requires us all to earn at least a GED. And on the off shift, we work around the Institute, learning to keep house and cook, and first aid and such."

"Very impressive." And it was. For one thing, it obviated the need for a large staff. And it was obvious, I hadn't seen all of the women here. I could see I would have a number of questions for the mysterious Mr. Wilkerson. "Can I see the school."

Terry looked surprised, but said, "Sure. No reason you can't. But you'll have to wait till tomorrow. It's closed for the evening. If you want, you can get a guide in the morning. I'll leave word at the front desk. Is that satisfactory?"

"Perfectly. Now, let's go eat."

I had slept through lunch and by now had worked up a good appetite. From what Terry had told me, I could order room service through the concierge at any time, but I didn't know that earlier. The dining room was very luxurious, carefully matched silver and china, comfortable chairs and booths, long linen table cloths. Very long, linen table cloths. This curiosity was explained, when, halfway through dinner, a man across the room dropped his fork on the floor at his feet. The waitress knelt on the floor and moved under the table to pick it up. In short order, she was completely under the table, almost hidden. She stayed there about fifteen minutes, during which time, the gentleman's face grew rather red. Then a look a pleasure and relief suffused his countenance, and shortly thereafter the waitress popped back up, grasping the fork. And all this while, the man's, um, date, was sitting next to him, seemingly oblivious to what was occurring at her feet.

***

It was mid-evening when we left the south wing. After a slow, stately meal, we had gone into the bar for a couple of more drinks. By then, the remains of my jet lag started beating on me again, so I mentioned perhaps I needed to get some more sleep. Terry simply stood and took my arm again, and walked with me back to the elevators.

She took her duties seriously. She escorted me upstairs, and walked me down the hall to my door. I stood there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do next. Thank her? Invite her in? Was she still on duty?

Terry noted the look of confusion on my face. "Is there a problem, Mr. deFrame?"

"Uh...well...I mean...uh, what's the procedure at this point? I mean, what is the, uh, protocol for, uh..."

"Oh, I see," she said. She gently took my elbow and pointed me towards an alcove with several armchairs. "Why don't we sit here for a second."

We sat. "I believe what you want to know, what is the proper etiquette involved in, shall we say, meeting and getting to know one of the students?"


The Wilkerson Institute



I blushed and mumbled out an assent.

"Please, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." She leaned forward and rested her hand on mine. It was a very warm hand. "Actually, I find it quite attractive. It shows you care."

I didn't know what to say, so I just cleared my throat self consciously.

"If you see a young lady that you'd like to know better, simply ask her. You can't ask the women on the staff, but any of the students will be more than willing. And you don't even have to ask. It can be as brusque as a snap of the fingers, or as subtle as a raised eyebrow."

"Really," I commented, raising an eyebrow. I had finally gotten my voice back.

Terry smiled, seeing the eyebrow. "Really. Why don't we go in for a nightcap?"

I immediately stood up. I hoped I didn't seem too eager, but I certainly felt eager. Jeanine had definitely whetted my appetite. I didn't know if Terry had noticed my erection, but I had noticed it for the last hour or so. Terry stood also, but much more gracefully, and I unlocked my suite. I turned on the lights.

"Why don't you sit down and turn on the TV, while I pour us a couple of brandies?," she said. I had sat down in an armchair before the wide screen television, and Terry had started pouring the brandy, before I remembered. I still didn't know how to turn on the thing.

"How do you turn it on?," I asked.

"Didn't Delia show you? Here, let me get it," she came over, carrying two snifters of dark, heavy liquid. She gave one to me and went to the set, and pushed on a panel in the front, so a remote control popped out. "The one in the bedroom has a hidden remote just like this one. I'm sorry nobody showed you."

"No problem."

Terry came back over to where I was sitting and gently settled onto my lap. She swung her legs over the arm, so that she was laying across me. Then she aimed the remote at the tube and hit a button.

"We get all the stations from the States, the networks, Fox, CNN, HBO, everything," Terry said, flipping through the channels. "And we have three channels which play only in-house, too." She flipped again, but slower. The in-house channels showed dirty movies. "And there's a VCR built in on both sets. Any preferences?"

I took the remote from her and flipped back to one of the in-house channels, then tossed the remote on the floor. "This will do just fine," I said. She smiled and leaned back against me, and we both sipped on our brandies.

The movie was only average, as these things go, but it put us both in a properly horny mood. As she leaned against me her suit shifted, delightfully. The skirt drifted downward, or actually upward, showing even more of her lovely legs. It was soon obvious that she wasn't wearing pantyhose, as I could see a garter strap holding the edge of her stockings up. Her jacket also shifted, opening at the collar, so that I could look down and see a breast plainly exposed. It was an excellent breast, larger than I had expected, B cup minimum. Terry wasn't wearing a bra, and I could see the nipple, firm and erect, pointing upwards.

We continued to watch for several minutes more, than I drained my snifter and set it on an endtable behind her back. Now that I had a closer view of her outfit, I could see that the skirt had a row of tiny concealed buttons on the side facing me. I reached down and, starting at the hem, began to slowly unbutton the skirt. This caused the skirt to drift even more, and before I had it undone, I could see that aside from the garter belt, she wore nothing else under it. She had thick, dark pubic hair, trimmed neatly in a heart pattern. When the last button was undone, she shifted slightly, and I tugged it from between us.

Terry finished her brandy and set the glass on the floor behind her. Leaning into me, she wrapped one hand behind my neck, while the other began to unbutton my shirt. She lifted her head to my neck, and began licking and nibbling. I groaned, and moved my free hand to the jacket and rapidly unbuttoned that. It fell open, and I promptly moved my hand to the breast I had seen earlier. Now it was her turn to moan, as a shudder went through her hot and compliant body.

I continued to knead and massage her nipples, alternating, first one, then the other. They were very pointy and wiggled as my fingers flicked over them. Terry's chest flushed, and her breathing became more rapid.

Terry shifted forward on my lap, as I noted that the on-screen action went into high gear with a pair of buxom broads giving dueling blow jobs to a limp cocked clown. Neither girl could hold a candle to what I had seen around here today. My shirt was now unbuttoned, and Terry's hand continued down to my pants. Dexterous fingers soon had my belt unbelted, my snap unsnapped, and my zipper unzipped. She spread the opening apart and my cock surged out, stiff and hard, the head a bulbous purple. God, that hand felt warm! She wrapped it around the shaft and pulled and stroked it lovingly.

If she kept this up, I'd spurt all over us. Carefully placing both hands on her waist, I grasped her and lifted her up. She really was small and light. She instantly understood me, spreading her legs apart, and positioning the head at the entrance of her pussy, as I lowered her onto my organ. Boy was she tight! But not dry or difficult, more like slipping on a small but comfortable glove. Every inch of my extended cock could feel her around me, every fold and crevice opened to me. After she was again settled firmly in my lap, Terry spread her legs apart, placing one spike heeled foot on the rug, the other over the leg of the armchair. She leaned back into me, and we settled down to a nice fuck watching the movies.

As we watched, our hands idly worked her now exposed body. My fingers would work on her lovely tits, and her fingers would caress her clit, barely visible between her nether lips. Occasionally, I could feel fingernails scratching the underside of my cock, where it was exposed under her. Then we would alternate, she pinching and pulling on her nipples, as I vigorously rubbed her clit with three fingers. Finally, she reached both hands between her legs, stuffing the fingers of one hand deep up her cunt, already filled with my straining dick, the other guiding my fingers around and on her clitoris. Her pussy, deliciously tight before, now became like a hot, wet vise pressing me all over. I exploded upwards into her womb, as Terry jerked atop me, orgasming herself. Then she reached lower and squeezed the last drops from my cock and balls. Pulling her fingers out of her cunt, she silently licked our mixed juices from them.

The movie was finished, and so was I. My now limp dick slid from it's resting place, and Terry stood and went into the bathroom. I reached down for the remote, and turned off the TV. Standing myself, I went into the bedroom and threw my clothes, already undone, on the dresser. Through the open door, I could see Terry on the toilet, wiping herself. She stood and went to the bidet. Fascinated, I walked in and sat down on the toilet to watch. With utterly no self consciousness, she squatted and cleansed herself, as I relieved my bladder. Finishing her ablutions, she went to the sink and washed her face and hands.

"Would you like me to wear anything special, tonight?," she asked.

In response, I made a long arm, and drew her to me. Facing her in front of me, I leaned forward and buried my face in her freshly cleaned crotch. With a quiet shriek of pleasure, she straightened and spread her legs, placing both hands behind my head, pulling me into her. My tongue snaked forward through the damp curly hairs to contact her throbbing rosebud. Despite her washings, I could easily smell her natural fragrance, her abundant fluids acting as the finest perfume. Licking her clit frantically, I put my fingers to work, undoing the snaps of her garters, and removing the garter belt. Unsupported, her stockings slipped to her ankles. Her breathing became more and more labored as I sucked and licked her pussy and the treasure within. My tongue burrowed deep within the tunnel my cock had so recently departed. Finally, her hips bucking uncontrollably, she cried out her passion, as her juices flowed onto my face.

Standing, I held her in my arms for a minute, as she calmed down. My revived erection pressing against her belly. Several times she whimpered, "Thank you, thank you." Finally, I went to the sink and washed her secretions from my face and hands, as she leaned against me. Wrapping an arm around her, I led her into the bedroom, where I gently pushed her onto the bed. Still standing, I removed her shoes and stockings, and climbed in with her. 

Tuesday

I slept soundly that night. My first waking thoughts were of the delightfully warm ass pressed against my back. This brought back drowsy memories of the previous night's last fuck, after I joined Terry in bed. Feeling my cock stiffen, my eyes still closed, I rolled over and pressed against her backside. I placed my free arm around her and we sleepily moved together. My fingers slowly grazed over Terry's breasts, as we slowly aroused each other. Strange, I didn't remember her tits being this big the other night. But still, she was becoming quite aroused, and within minutes had lifted her upper leg slightly, and I slipped my stiff cock deep within her from behind. Rolling atop her, I began a long, slow thrusting.

"Oh, God, yes!," I heard a deep voice implore.

My eyes snapped open. That certainly wasn't Terry's voice. No wonder I had been confused earlier. They weren't Terry's tits! I stopped cold in midstroke. "Who are you?," I asked.

"Oh, God, don't stop," she begged. Too surprised for words, I began my thrusting again. This girl was a big, my height I guessed, brunette. At least I think she was my height. I mean, in bed, everyone's the same height. She turned her face and looked back at me over her shoulder. "I'm Kathy."

Planting my arms at her hips and holding myself above her, I asked, "Where's Terry?"

"She had classes this morning. She asked me to fill in. She said it'd be worth it. Oh, God, it is! It really is!" She moaned as I plumbed her depths from the rear.

This girl was quite a mover. Her body writhed beneath me, her legs spreading and drawing together. In short order, she had kicked the covers from us. This was really inspirational!

Reaching over, I grabbed my pillows. "Kneel," I commanded, and when she brought her hips and torso off the bed, I thrust them beneath her pelvis. "Now, lie down again." I told her. Her ass was now several inches higher, and I began thrusting heavily into her. This drove Kathy wild. Her legs were kicking behind me, as she tore at the sheets and screamed pleasure into her own pillows. Together we came wildly, my spewing cock forcing it's way deeper and deeper into her wet and sloppy pussy.

I collapsed onto her back and rolled off of her, gasping and sweating heavily. A minute later, she rolled next to me and handed me back my pillows. "Wow!," she said.

I turned the pillows over. With Kathy, the wet spot was prominent. Agreeing with her, I also said "Wow."

After about five minutes of cuddling, I stood and went to the can. When I came out, Kathy was out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt and shorts.

"I've got to go. Is that all right?," she asked.

I wasn't sure I could take a double dose of this girl so early in the morning. I kissed her and said, "Sure. Maybe we can meet again later."

Kissing me back, she said brightly, "Yeah, I'd like that. Bye." And then she was out the door, barefoot. She was almost as tall as I was.

Well, so far the day had proved interesting. What new wonders would be seen! Returning to the bathroom, I took a long shower, shaved, and brushed my teeth. Deciding to dress a bit more appropriately today, I simply wore slacks and a short sleeved pullover. I left my room and headed down to the restaurant.

When traveling, I stick to basic bacon and eggs, over easy. I'm not really one for a big breakfast, normally having just cereal and juice at home. Somehow, slurping milk from my bowl doesn't seem the thing to do in a restaurant. I dined alone, primarily from choice. I'm never at my best before my second cup of coffee, and religiously avoid breakfast meetings. Even when still married, I generally ate breakfast alone. Of course, a critic would say that was just another reason I was no longer married. Still, a number of lovely young ladies caught my eye, and generally gave some type of nonverbal indication that they'd be happy to sit with me. A lifetime of habit dies hard. I ate alone.

But the morning double dose of caffeine generally makes me sociable again. By nine, I was up and about, so I headed over to the clinic for the blood pressure check. Get this out of the way, and my time would be all to myself.

Again, the clinic was empty except for the receptionist. Not Jenny, but another young girl. Still in the abbreviated uniform, though. I was still curious about the physical. Very unusual, that. She greeted me and ushered me into the same examination room as yesterday. My short sleeves obviated the need to undress. I hopped up on the table to wait.

Almost immediately, Jenny popped in through the side door. "Good morning, Mr. deFrame. How are we feeling this morning?," she asked brightly.

Good Lord, they even talk that way here! "I don't know," I responded. "I feel pretty good. How do you feel?" Why do they always talk in the plural? Or does the medical profession prefer to use the 'Imperial' we?

Jenny just laughed. "I feel pretty good, too. I can tell you're feeling feisty, as well. Over your jet lag? Good." She kept up a light chatter, as she quickly and efficiently pulled out a whatchamacallit and took my blood pressure. "Excellent. Right within normal parameters," she pronounced. "I'll make sure to tell the doctor."

"Great," I said. I hopped off the table and headed for the door.

"Oh, wait," she said before I had opened the door. "The exam isn't done yet. Remove your pants."

Confused, I simply said, "Huh?". The quack had simply wanted my blood pressure. What was this about?

Jenny gave a sly smile and looked up at me. If anything, the zipper on her uniform was even lower today than yesterday. The cleavage showing was quite nice. She backed up to the end of the exam table and hopped up on it. "I need to take your temperature, and I plan on using your thermometer."

My hand dropped from the doorknob, and I turned to face her. Grinning, I walked to her, and said, "Really?" I unbuckled my belt. "Just how do you do this?"

In response, Jenny grinned back, and brought her hands up to her collar. Grasping the crisp white fabric with one hand, she used the other to completely unzip her uniform. It fell away from her lush body to reveal what little she had underneath. This consisted of a small and lacy white bra and a white garter belt holding up very sheer white stockings. Then she leaned forward and unzipped my pants. They slid to my knees, leaving my erection pointing at her with my balls swinging in the breeze. "You simply insert your thermometer and move it around. I'll be able to tell if you're hot or not."

What an interesting medical technique. I wondered if the AMA had learned it yet. Certainly it would reduce people's reluctance to go to the doctor's! But still, my height and the height of the table weren't going to work. I was going to have to stand on tiptoes, not a great position to insert the thermometer. Looking down at the base of the table, I discovered the answer.

The table was of the solid type, with drawers and so forth built in. Pulling my pants up again, I buttoned them without zipping, so my cock jutted through the opening. I gently kicked two side plates, one on each side, popping them open. As I suspected, inside were a pair of gynecological stirrups. Reaching in, I pulled them out and up, locking them in position. Jenny squealed in delight, and kicked off her heels. Next I pulled out a small step stool at the base of the table and stepped up on it. The altitude problem was solved. Ah, Yankee ingenuity in action!

"This should work much better," I said.

"Oh, my, yes," said Jenny. She lay down on the table, and scooted her ass forward to the edge. Lifting first one leg, then the other, I gently placed them in position in the stirrups. Jenny squirmed around a bit to get comfortable, and I unbuttoned my pants again. I placed my erection along her lower lips, and slid it forward on the outside. This was easy to do, for despite long brown hair hanging loosely around her head, her pussy was as bare as a baby's behind. She was shaved completely bald, which I found quite erotic. Her pussy gaped open, and the bright inner pink was blocked only by my cock sliding in the valley above it. I rubbed the underside here for a couple of minutes, my engorged head ringing the doorbell of her clitoris. This was very large, and very visible, protruding redly from between her labia. Jenny relaxed and closed her eyes. Moaning lowly, she reached between her breasts and undid the front clasp on her bra. Heaving breasts, straining against the sheer lace, burst free and upwards. 

No longer capable of holding back, I entered her on my next thrust forward. In this position, her cunt was most capable of taking me, and my cock easily disappeared within the naked lips. Reaching down, Jenny grabbed the stirrup uprights, and pulled herself down towards the edge, arching her back and meeting my penetration. Now it was my turn to groan, and loudly. As each inch entered her, no, as each millimeter, moved inwards, her pussy was twitching and spasming around me. Her pussy lips were eating and nibbling at me better then some women had used their regular lips. I watched, fascinated, as I saw her inner lips relaxing and contracting around me, as first I moved in and then pulled slowly out.

But not too slowly. Jenny's eyes were still closed, as she grasped the supports and bucked against me. Her C cup breasts jiggled in time with her rapid thrusting, her large soft nipples moving atop them like soft cherries on large bowls of Jell-O. Inspired, I wrapped my hands around her thighs and began some heavy duty thrusting of my own.

Jenny's contractions seemed to increase in speed and power. Her ass began to really squirm all over the end of the table, wrenching on my buried root. Her tits wiggled and jiggled in motions that a computer couldn't analyze. After only about ten minutes the orgasm I had been desperately holding out against swept over me. Pulling her thighs rigidly against me, I rammed into her, spewing jism into her cunt. Jenny came, too, clenching her cunt tightly around my engulfed dick, and murmuring out her pleasure. Locked in, my cock spasmed out a seemingly endless supply of come, but all too shortly the moment ended.

After a standing eight count, Jenny's twat relaxed, and my lifeless prick slid out, followed by our juices. Reaching behind her, Jenny grabbed a handful of tissues. I reached up and lowered her legs from their resting places, and the nurse sat up. First she wiped my cock off, then her gaping gash. Stepping down off the stool, I pulled up my pants and refastened them. "Well?," I asked, "Is my temperature okay?"

Jenny smiled as she stepped down from the table. Redoing her bra, she said, "Excellent. If you want, we can schedule a daily checkup, just in case."

I continued tucking myself in. "And what would the doctor say about that?"

Slipping into her heels, and zipping up her uniform, the girl laughed. "I wouldn't tell the doctor. But I might just tell the other shifts."

I smiled, and kissed her. "Thanks for the checkup." And then I was out of there, intent on seeing what the rest of the day held.

***

The rest of the morning was quiet. I figured a nice long walk would do me good. As I wandered back through the lobby area, I heard a soft, feminine voice call out my name. Stopping, I turned in it's direction.




The Wilkerson Institute



"Mr. deFrame? Terry asked me to look you up," said a very young woman. If she wasn't a minor, then I didn't know anything about women. Which might be the case anyway.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'm Julie, and Terry said you'd be wanting a tour this morning of the school. And perhaps of the rest of the grounds?"

Now what exactly did that mean? Around here, I couldn't be at all sure. I casually looked the girl over. Slim, almost willow, quite pretty. A little above average height. Light chestnut hair. A junior "student"? Or perhaps not, I had no real way of knowing.

"Well, I was planning on a walk anyway. We'll just put some purpose to it," I said.

"Excuse me, Mr. deFrame," interrupted a young woman behind the front counter. "Your appointment for tomorrow morning with Mr. Wilkerson has been moved up to nine. He called to say his schedule had opened up. Is that all right with you, sir?"

"Yes, quite. I look forward to the meeting."

"Very good, sir."

I turned back to Julie. It was only then I noticed that for the first time in my visit one of the staff type individuals wasn't in some type of uniform. Well, I gathered that none of the girls were part of the permanent staff. But what else could I call these highly decorative worker bees. Perhaps, uniforms were only worn on duty. But if so, wasn't this tour duty? Every step took me deeper through the looking glass. I resolved to simply wonder silently.

Julie wasn't in one of the chic, short and tight, suits the other reception and concierge ladies were wearing. Instead, she was dressed quite becomingly, in a loose, high necked sweater and a tartan plaid skirt that dropped about halfway between her knees and her ankles. But not a simple plain skirt. This was some kind of wrap skirt that buttoned on one side, and was held together at mid-thigh by a large brass pin. Through the slit, where the wrap overlapped, I could glimpse long, lightweight, black high heeled boots, but not the heavy and shiny kind worn by leather fetishists. No, these were of some very thin, stretchy, matte fabric. Strange boots? Stockings with shoes built in? Whatever they were, they seemed quite long, disappearing above the gap where her skirt swung open as we walked.

For, imperceptibly, we had begun our walk, Julie slipping her arm in mine and leading me outside. It was cooler today, and I mentioned it to her.

"Yes, there's a front moving in. We're supposed to get rain tomorrow. Maybe the next day also."

"It's beautiful down here. Is the weather always this nice?," I asked.

"Well, summer is really hot and humid, or at least this last one was. But I haven't really been here long enough to say." 

I was tempted to ask how long she had been here. But something, maybe the way she said it, made me stop. Somehow I knew that this would open some old wound. Old wounds don't have to be that old to be deep and painful. But it also made me realize that this girl, if she hadn't been here a full year, was young. More questions for Mr. Wilkerson.

We walked through more of the gardens, and for the first time I saw what appeared to be some of the permanent staff. Several healthy young men were working in the gardens, wearing official looking work clothes, supervising several of the girls weeding and tending flowers. Again, something in their manner, and the way they gave orders to the girls, told me these weren't locals just called in to mow the lawn. And then it struck me! They weren't Mexican. Oh, they had dark tans, but they were just tans, not a Latino's skin coloring. And I realized that all of the women I had seen so far were North American Caucasian. No blacks, no Latinos, no Orientals. Curiouser and curiouser. I was in a small enclave of the white US in the middle of the Yucatan Peninsula.

Eventually, we came to a low building behind a hill from the main resort area. Less than a mile away from the main area, it was completely hidden and unseen, and I suspected for most of the guests, unknown. But as we entered, I realized the building actually was built into the hill, and was larger than it appeared.

"This is the school and dormitory for all of the students," said Julie.

"Do you live here?," I asked.

"Last hall, second floor," said Julie with a smile. "And no, you can't see. The dorm rooms are completely off limits," she said, guessing my next question.

"Why's that?"

"Hmmm, well, Mr. Wilkerson says it's simply our place, where we can kick back and do what we want. No orders or anything." What an interesting fellow, this Wilkerson. "Anyway, it's just a bunch of dorm rooms. I mean, like mine is just a disaster right now!," she laughed.

Leading me on, she continued. "Now down here are the classrooms. There's only six, and we go to classes either mornings or afternoons. Or did Terry tell you this already?"

I assured her that Terry hadn't told me much at all. "Just keep going, I'll let you know if you repeat her."

"Okay." She led me up to a window that opened onto a small classroom. Inside, a teacher was standing at a blackboard, demonstrating something involving English and sentence structure to a small class of young ladies. "Now, they can't see you. It's a one way mirror, like on TV." Goggle-eyed I stared at the students.

First, the range of ages was considerably greater than anything I had expected. Some looked in their early twenties, others no more than late teens. And their uniforms! They all wore long gowns and high heels. The gowns were in a variety of light pastels, and seemed slit quite deep both at the front and back, top and bottom. Like sheer, opaque, evening gowns.

After a few minutes, I stepped back and walked on down the hallway, Julie trailing behind me. The next two classrooms were in use, one teaching algebra or math, the other where the teacher was pointing to a large map of the world. Same range of ages. Same uniforms.

But the next three windows showed nothing. The rooms inside were dark, and nothing could be seen. "What's taught in here?"

"Oh, that's the sex lab."

"Huh? What?," I asked incredulously. My jaw must have dropped to the floor.

Julie looked at the expression on my face and laughed heartily. "Sex lab! At least that's what we call it. The actual course is called something like 'Theoretical and Practical Aspects of Human Sexuality'. Or something like that, anyway. But we just call it 'Sex Lab'." She laughed again, a bright, smiling laugh. "Oh, if you could only see your face!"

"I imagine," I said. "Sex lab, huh. I can't imagine. I mean I really can't imagine." I simply shook my head.

"Yeah? Wanna see?," she asked. Not waiting for a reply, she went to the first door, and opened it. Walking in, she turned and hit a switch next to the door. "Come on in." Julie motioned me in with a hand. "Come on, it's safe!" She laughed some more.

Grinning ruefully, I stepped across the threshold. Looking around, I felt even more embarrassed by what I saw. It was just another classroom. Several diagrams and cutaway drawings of men and women lined the walls. It looked just like a biology classroom, and I said so.

"Uh, huh. That's part of the course. I guess that's the 'Theoretical' part. Doc Henson teaches some of this," agreed Julie. Then the girl laughed again. "Wilma and Fred live in the closet."

"Wilma and Fred?," I asked stupidly. I had a sneaking suspicion that much of what I was saying in sex lab sounded stupid.

"You know, the Flintstones?" Julie walked over to a closet and opened it up. Coming closer, I could see a pair of mannequins, one male, one female, inside. Both had on some leopard spotted toga type outfits. "God only knows when, but somebody once dressed them up like this, and we just keep them that way. They come to all our parties!"

Now it was my turn to laugh. The dorm sounded a lot like my freshman dorm in college, constantly on the verge of expulsion and/or arrest. Regaining some composure, I walked through an open doorway to the next classroom. But it was dark, and I couldn't see anything until Julie passed me and headed to the door, turning on the lights.

Now this was a bit more what I had suspected. In the front of the classroom were three standard size beds, in the rear, a semicircle of chairs. Instead of blackboards, corkboards lined the walls, with pictures and diagrams of all manner of ways and positions to have sex. More than a few I had never seen before.

"This must be the 'Practical' part," I said dryly.

"About as practical as you can get." responded Julie.

"And what's in here?," I asked her, turning towards the door leading to the last classroom.

"One could say that's where advanced classes are taught," she said mysteriously.

"Hmmph." I marched in. Knowing where the lights were now, I soon had them turned on. I turned and looked on a scene worthy of Fellini.

Along one wall were a number of shelves containing what must be one of every vibrator, dildo, and sexual device known to mankind. Some I couldn't name but had heard of, some I couldn't even guess about! Parts of the wall had shackles and chains mounted. No beds or desks, but a few padded benches, stools, couches, and armchairs. A trapeze swung gently from the ceiling, as did a chair with the bottom cut out. I knew what that was for!

"Holy shit!," I exclaimed.

"Like I said, advanced techniques."

"I guess!" I stared for several minutes, and then opened the hall door and stepped out. Leaning back against the wall, I took a deep breath.

Julie followed behind me, turning off the lights. "Are you all right, Mr. deFrame?," she asked, a look of concern on her face.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, just fine," I responded. "That's just a little bit much, though, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. You get used to it, I guess."

"You mean...you?..."

"Yep. We all have."

"Wow!" Looks were deceiving. No matter what these girls ages were, they knew more than any girls that age I had ever known had ever known. No wonder the techniques performed on me had been so flawless. These girls had training! Practice does make perfect!


I stood up again, and Julie took my arm. "That's really about it," she said. "I mean, there's the libraries, but you wouldn't want to see the one here."

"Oh?"

"Nah. I mean, the one here just has textbooks and encyclopedias and books like that. The interesting one is in the main building."

"I hadn't noticed," I told her. "What makes it so interesting?"

"Well that one is for the patrons. The textbooks have nothing to do with reading or writing, at least."

"Really? No kidding?"

By now we were back on a path to the resort. Along the way, I asked Julie where the jogging track was. "I'd like to run some this afternoon. It's been a few days, and I need to stay in shape."

"Sure. It's over here," she answered, leading the way. We walked along the track until we were back to the resort building. "One lap equals two kilometers."

"A mile and a quarter."

"Close enough." Julie led me in a side door and we ended in a hallway off the lobby. Leading me through a pair of French doors, she said, "This is the main library."

It was a small room, but several bookcases and sets of shelves divided the room into a few alcoves. No desks or study carrels, but some nicely appointed couches and love seats. It had been a long walk. I flopped down on a love seat, and Julie sat down to the left of me, crossing her legs.

"Well, kid," I said. "That was quite the nickel ride."

"Maybe so. I'm sorry if I went on and on. I should have stopped sooner."

"No, no," I said. "Absolutely fascinating! Wouldn't have missed a minute of it." I reached over and patted her knee were it stuck out of the tartan plaid. "Hey, I gotta ask, just what are these things?," I asked, rubbing her knee. "Boots or weird stockings?"

Julie shifted the skirt so that both legs below the brass pin came into view. "Sort of both. They're kind of stockings with shoes built into the bottom."

"Really?"

"Uh, huh. One of the patrons noticed them in a Playboy and mentioned them one day. So Mr. Wilkerson ordered a few pair."

"Aren't they hot for Mexico?"

"Nope. They're really quite light and they breathe great. But not all the girls can wear them. Some are allergic to the fabric, or whatever. Like them?"

I smiled. "Yes, I do. Quite a bit. Just how long are they?"

Julie gave a sly smile. Reaching down, she unpinned the pin holding her skirt together, and placed it on the table beside me, reaching across my lap to do so. The back of her hand rubbed across my crotch, not so innocently. The skirt gapped open quite a bit more. "Fairly long, don't you think?"

"Um, yes." My mouth dried considerably. Julie's legs were exquisite, long and lean, and very curvaceous. She moved them and crossed them the other way. The skirt parted even further, and I suspected the boots went all the way up.

Julie leaned back across me and picked up a large, coffee table size book from the table. This she handed to me. "This is one of the many books in the library here."

'The Illustrated Kama Sutra', the cover proclaimed, above a picture of a scantily clad couple in an interesting position. Nothing untoward could be seen on the cover, but neither did it leave any doubt as to what the position was for. "Take a look," said the young girl.

I slowly leafed through several pages of the book. The couple were in all the pictures, he in a turban, she in various transparent veils. The printing and artwork were excellent, the photos tasteful, if explicit, the positions quite varied. But I could keep only one eye on the pictures, as beside me Julie moved one hand to the side of her skirt and undid the button at her waist. I was right, the boot tops did go all the way up, right to the dark brown curls at her groin.

Julie shifted her pert ass sideways and lay her head in my lap. As her hand rubbed the erection I had had for the last five minutes, her teeth began to undo my belt. Amazingly, without using her hands, she undid my belt, the snap, and the zipper. The first time she used her hands was to pull my engorged cock out of the pants leg it was residing uncomfortably in. Tugging my pants lower, Julie immediately took my cockhead into her mouth.

God, what tongue action! Knowing now how these girls learned this stuff didn't alter my admiration a bit. It might even have increased it. Talent like this needed training!

Julie's tongue swirled around my glans, even probing my urethra. Breathing through her nose, she still managed to suck like Dracula going for the jugular. Fuck the damn book! I tossed it to the side, and put one hand on her back, and the other on her head.

While it wasn't meant to be so, Julie took the hand on her head as a sign for more. Without skipping a beat, she sank her head lower into my lap, seamlessly moving into a deep throat action. I think my favorite part was when I was fully buried in her mouth, her cheeks bulging, huffing and puffing around me, and she began to gently shake and wiggle her head. Damn near moved me off the seat! My left hand rubbed her back (no bra!) while my right hand rubbed the back of her head, moving her long hair out of the way, so I could watch. Jesus! I could do this forever!

For awhile I thought I could, too. Julie's tongue action made me come twice. But each time, as my hips bucked upwards, she stopped all motions of her tongue and mouth, stopped the sucking, and firmly clamped the base of my cock. I'd heard of this before, but never had it done to me. The orgasm stopped as fast as it had started, and after a few moments, Julie started up again.

By the second orgasm, I had pulled her sweater up to her shoulders, and had reached under her to play with her nipples. These were small, pert, young tits. Julie would never grow to more than an A cup, but these were the perfect tits for the guy who thinks more than a mouthful is wasted. What do the French say? The perfect tit fills a champagne glass? Whatever. My second surge didn't take as long as the first. After this one, I stopped her and pulled her sweater over her head and off her arms. Then, naked except for the boots, I pushed her head back in my lap. Moments later I spewed for real, Julie not stopping me this time, and I groaned in joy as I coated her tonsils.

Finally, my hips stopped bucking up into her mouth and I collapsed back into the cushions. Julie continued licking my cock and balls till they were squeaky clean, but her efforts had been truly monumental, and I didn't resurrect. After a few more moments she sat upright and leaned against me, she still almost naked, me with my pants down. I turned to her as I fastened my britches. "Julie, just how old are you?"

"I'll be ninwteen next month," she said, smiling.

"Kiddo, for whatever it's worth, the lessons took. I sure never got a blow job like that when I was your age! Hell, I'm not sure I ever got a blow job when I was your age! You are one piece of work," I said approvingly.

A big smile suffused her pretty face. "Thanks! Thanks a lot! I appreciate that."

I stood up and helped her to her feet. Smiling, we dressed. I offered to take her to lunch, but she declined. Classes. Still, she walked me to the bar. And before we parted, she asked me an intriguing question.

"Mr. deFrame? You can help us in the training."

"Hmmm? What do you mean?," I asked.

"Well, class isn't enough. If you'd let me, I'll put your name on the list for training sessions."

"Just what is involved in these training sessions?," I asked carefully.

"Oh, not much. Just some nights, when you're available, one of the more experienced girls brings around one of the newer ones, so she can practice her lessons. You know what I mean," said Julie.

"Hmmm. Yes, I do. Well, okay, I guess."

"Great!"

***

After a light lunch, I returned to my room and changed into shorts and a tee shirt. This high living, the food and booze, was going to kill me if I didn't get some exercise. Of course, around here I'd be more likely to have a heart attack with some young Julie working me over instead, the girl dutifully trying to resuscitate the wrong part of my anatomy. I resolved to go out with a smile on my face.

Once outside, I trotted over to the jogging track and started to run. I ran for a full hour, sometimes jogging, sometimes sprinting. After about five or six laps, I was sweating pretty good. The poisons were almost completely out of the system. Just a bit more work to do for the afternoon.

As I slowed near the end, I spotted a young blonde watching me by the track. "Hey!," I called out. "Can you go get me something cold?," I panted.

"Sure. What do you want?"

I jogged in place for a moment. "Anything. Juice. Water. Whatever. Just make it tall and cold."

"Sure, give me a few minutes."

"No sweat," I gasped out. "I'll be back after one more lap." She waved as I took off.

I really went all out the last two klicks, and when I returned five minutes later, the blonde was standing there with a tall and frosty glass. I slowed and walked over. "Thanks," I panted out, and took the glass. Lemonade! Nectar of the Gods! I drained it in one swallow.

"Honey, that was just great. Now, which way to the pool? I need a few laps." The sweat was pouring off me, and I just plain wasn't bearable, even to myself.

"Follow me," the girl said. "I was about to take a dip myself."

"Great." I kicked off my sneakers and socks, and after picking them up, quickly caught up to her. Pretty girl. A short terry cloth beach cover and sandals. "Who are you? What's your name? No nametag?"

Smiling, she said, "Sue. And you're Mr. deFrame. And where on a swimsuit would I put a nametag?" Touché.

I was too winded to talk, so we silently went to the large pool. It looked about Olympic size, so I figured a couple of laps should cool me off pretty good. It looked fairly empty, just two couples, one at each end, one sitting on the edge, the other in the water kissing. But as I got closer it became quite apparent that the embracing couple wasn't just kissing! Their suits were laying poolside, the man was in a corner supporting himself with arms on the edge, the woman entwined about him, face flushed, eyes closed, bouncing against his loins. I continued walking past them to the other end, where I saw the other couple watching, her hand down his swimsuit, working furiously. I kept walking.




The Wilkerson Institute



A hundred yards further, around a hedge and out of sight of the big pool, I found a smaller pool. Mercifully empty. I'm not quite kinky enough for that much public display of affection. Maybe by the end of the week, but not yet, not just yet. I threw my shoes and socks on a lounge chair, peeled off my sweat soaked shirt, and dove in. Oh, that felt good! I dove deep and touched the bottom before surfacing. I looked around. Sue had kicked off her sandals and tossed her wrap on another chair, and was sitting on the edge. She was an okay looker, at least if you liked blonde goddesses with big hooters.

I flicked some water at her and started my laps. This wasn't an Olympic pool. I swam laps for maybe twenty, thirty minutes. On my return laps I'd catch a glimpse of Sue. Mostly she sat on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. Occasionally, I'd see her flip around and drop off the edge, but only neck deep. Then she'd pop out again. Finally, I felt all exercised out, and swam to her side.

"I thought you wanted to swim?," I asked.

"Nope, just a few quick dips. The chlorine really bothers my eyes. I really wanted to work on my tan." A worthy aspiration for any golden goddess. "You know, if you don't get some lotion on, you're really going to burn! You have no idea how fast you can fry down here."

She was right, too. Even in the late afternoon, the sun was high and bright and hot. "Make you a deal," I said. "You oil my back, and I'll oil yours."

"Deal," she agreed with a big grin, and stood up. I jackknifed out of the water, and she grabbed our stuff. "Come on," she said, and walked around a tall hedge.

I followed her a few feet and we entered a small, hedge enclosed garden. Entering, she turned and closed a gate behind us. I noticed that Sue had thoughtfully grabbed a number of towels from a stack near the pool, and I took one from her. I quickly rubbed myself dry, while Sue spread the others on the neatly manicured lawn, side by side. I plopped down on the makeshift carpet and the girl reached into her cover-up and pulled out a small bottle of suntan lotion.

"Use a lot," she said, pouring a handful out. She gave me the bottle. "It's not all that strong."

Well, she was the expert. I always listen to professionals. Which raised another question. Professionals get paid. What was the compensation scheme for these girls? Yet something else to ask Mr. Wilkerson. I oiled my legs and chest accordingly.

Sue's hands on my back felt delicious. I could take that for hours. But her warnings sounded a bell in my mind, and I pulled away after a few minutes. Turning to her, I announced, "Your turn. Lie down."

"What?"

"You do my back, I do yours. That was the deal. Lie down and I'll oil you up, too!"

Grinning, she promptly laid back and rolled onto her stomach. "Okay!" She reached behind her neck and then her back, and untied her string top. Then she put her hands beneath her head and closed her eyes against the sunlight.

I poured a goodly amount of oil into one palm, put the bottle down, and rubbed my hands together. Then I knelt by her side and began a long, slow massage. Sue had long, very golden, blonde hair, held together in a long ponytail. A deep golden tan, with no strap marks. After the first handful of oil had been rubbed in, I reached over and undid the ponytail. Carefully, I laid her hair to the side of her head, away from her face, and then poured more oil on her back. This I massaged in longer. Then I had her stretch out her arms, and I rubbed lotion onto them.

Next, I poured a thin line of oil up each outstretched leg. Starting at her naked, golden, feet, I worked my way north, rubbing the oil into the backs and sides of her legs. All the while, Sue was murmuring contentedly, eyes closed. Finally, I was about as high as I could go. Feeling brave, I gently untied the strings holding on the bikini bottom. The front strings fell to the ground, and delicately taking the back strings, one between each thumb and forefinger, pulled the bottom back and down between her legs.

Interesting! No tan lines here either! I poured more oil on Sue's golden globes, and applied my hands to her gluteus maximus (maximi?). My fingers massaged her buns, while my thumbs rubbed oil throughout the crack of her ass, and down towards the treasure hidden beneath.

After several minutes of this, I gently rolled the girl onto her back. Sue's eyes stayed closed, and I oiled the fronts of her arms, while my own eyes feasted on the vision at my knees. Real class-A knockers, C cups, topped by hard, dark red nipples, jutting up from her tits. Only her hairdresser knew for sure if she was a real blonde, because her lower lips were shaved as smooth as the day she was born. I should have guessed, considering the swimsuit lying beside her. After her arms were done, I moved down to oil her legs. I was saving the best parts for last.

The best parts came soon. Sue's eyes were still shut, but if they had been open, she would have seen a tentpole in my shorts. I hadn't done this in years, not since a wild weekend in Fort Lauderdale one spring break. I moved back up to her midsection and poured the rest of the bottle on her upturned tits, her belly button, and the cleft between her legs. I tossed the bottle to the side and went to work.

First I concentrated on her stomach. The oil went in all around the gentle curve of her belly. Then I slowly worked my way up her sides, to her neck and shoulders. By now, Sue's murmurs had turned to gentle moans. When her shoulders were nice and greasy, I moved one hand down to each breast and thoroughly oiled them. I concentrated on her large and prominent nipples. Wouldn't want them to get burned! Sue's back arched and her moans grew less and less gentle.

Finally, I moved back down her stomach and pushed my hands between her legs. I gently spread her outstretched legs apart. By now my fingers were aching from exertion, but I gladly willed them to the final effort. Moving them through the last strands of oil, I put all ten on the only unprotected portion of her anatomy and vigorously massaged the oil in. Nothing was left undone, not the lips, not the pulsing pink bud between them, not the long pink tunnel below. The effect was electrifying. Sue let out a low cry, a scream of joy, and arched her back as if to break her spine. Thrashing wildly, she cried out the unbearable pleasure radiating outwards from her innermost depths.

Ultimately, the pain in my hands took over, and slowly they receded from her loins. Sagging back into the towel beneath her, Sue gasped and panted back to recovery. Finally she spoke.

"Holy Jesus, Mr. deFrame, you really are something else!"

"What do you mean?," I asked, flexing my fingers back from lifelessness. "And how come all you girls know my name?"

Sue moved forward and leaned back on her elbows. Looking at me with a wicked smile, she said, "We have big blowups of all the guests down in the dorm. So we can learn who's who. Some we use as dartboards." She leaned forward and grasped the tentpole. "And some we don't."

"Really?," I asked calmly. Not that I was all that calm. She kept her hand on my erection, rubbing it through the shorts.

"We talk about everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything." Rising to her knees, she grasped the waistband of my shorts firmly, and in the wink of an eye had tugged them down to my knees. "Like just how good in bed you can be. I want to find out if what they say is true."

And with that, she whirled around, facing away from me, and put her head to the towels. Kneeling, she spread her knees wide. "Now, put it in my ass!," she commanded.

"You want me to ass fuck you?," I asked incredulously. I don't think I'd ever had a women ask that before!

"Yeah. You'll like it, I guarantee. Ever done it before? It's really tight and hot. Come on, I give great ass!" She reached her hands back and spread the oily cheeks wide. Her sphincter stared back at me, slowly relaxing open.

What the fuck, in for a penny, in for a pound! Holding my dick in one hand, I crawled forward till it rested in the crack of her ass. Moving back slightly, I positioned the head in the small ring, and slowly pushed in.

She was right, it really was tight and hot! Once the head was completely buried, Sue gave a lunge back, and instantly I was buried to the hilt. My nuts slammed against her inner thighs, and I gave way to my darkest desires. Pushing her down onto the ground, I moved my legs and straddled her thighs. Then, still buried up her chocolate speedway, I began to literally fuck her ass off. Withdrawing to the point of pulling out, I rammed back in, high speed, full power.

"Oh, God...yes...faster...harder...faster...all the way!..," screamed out Sue. "Fuck my ass!," she kept crying out. And with every thrust, her ass bucked up to meet me, her asshole clenching around my shaft. I mean, I had never felt anything like this in my life. This girl's ass was more talented than most's cunts.

Sue had been coming steadily since my first penetration. I couldn't last long myself, and shortly began to come myself. With a loud grunt, I wilted atop her back, only my hips twitching, as her grasping ass greedily pumped my member dry. Only when my dick was completely soft, and my balls totally drained, did I pull out and roll off her.

"Wow!," whispered Sue in my ear. She rolled over and snuggled against me. "The girls were right." Not knowing what to say, I said nothing, and cuddled her against my chest.

Still, the sun was still there, and I knew I'd be a lobster in only a few minutes more. A sunburned dick in a carnal paradise sounded very uninviting. Disentangling myself, I pulled my shorts back up. And I felt dirty. Not because of the kinky sex. Because of the oil and the sweat the kinky sex had caused.

"Honey, one last swim, and then we better go in."

I stood and helped her to her feet. She bent back down and picked up our stuff, but didn't dress. Looked good to me. Taking my clothes back, we walked back to the pool. As Sue led the way, I could see my come running down her legs, mingling with her own fresh pussy juice. The pool was still empty, so I threw my stuff on a chair and dove in.

Sue jumped in after me, and I swam over to her. She was standing near the shallow end, her breasts out of water. Her hands were on her cunt and ass, washing them off. Turning to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a long, deep, tongue filled kiss. "Let's clean you off, too," she said.

And she did, right then and there. Pushing my shorts down again, she reached down and ran her hands over my cock and balls, washing off any trace of her anus. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, her actions slowly brought my cock alive again, slowly growing to fill her hands. This only increased her motions, and a few minutes later, the expert hand job caused my jism to squirt out, to mix with the chlorinated water.

***

Fucked out, I had left Sue to return to my room. The ever efficient Jeanine had cleaned, and my clothes had been returned, cleaned and pressed. I collapsed on the bed and immediately fell asleep. I slept for several hours, awakening with a ravenous appetite.

I showered and tossed on a now clean sports coat and slacks, and headed downstairs. As I passed the concierge's desk, the young lady behind it stood and asked me if I was to be free tonight, for a training session. These broads were just too damn efficient.

"Yeah, sure, I guess so."

"Very good, sir. Thank you."

Well, if my bedtime snack was taken care of, I still had dinner and after dinner to survive. I proceeded to the restaurant, and took a table to myself. After seeing my waitress, I knew what dessert was going to be. I shook my head at the silent offers of company from a few unattached ladies.

I had a really great meal. Oysters, salad, a monster steak, a small bottle of Beaujolais. Every time Teresa came back, I made sure we talked. Very lovely. A tall redhead with waist length hair, very long legs, and an intriguing bust. And rather witty, to boot. When I ordered the oysters Rockefeller, she commented they'd put lead in my pencil.

"Who should I write to?," I asked.

"I love long letters," she said cryptically, then smiled and sashayed back to the kitchen.

Fine with me, the chase was on! With each course, further comments were elicited, as to how salads had vitamins, steak had lots of protein, and the wine was good to replenish vital bodily fluids. Like all the waitresses, she wore a two piece outfit, a long peasant dress, with a laced up bodice and buttons from waist to hem. These buttons were completely undone, exposing a long lace petticoat which also buttoned up the front, and was just opaque enough to be semi-discreet. She didn't wear anything under the top, so that her cleavage was readily apparent, right down to her jewel of a navel. Whenever she was present, I made sure I talked to her, so I could feast my eyes on her. She didn't mind, either.

Finally, dawdling over a small slice of cheesecake and coffee, I asked her when she got off duty.

Lightly bending over the table (And knowingly giving me an excellent look down the front of her dress!), she responded. "Well, that's hard to say. I mean, I'm on duty till we close up. But if something, um, came up, I could take off early." She looked at me inquiringly.

Well, something had certainly come up. And I knew just how I wanted it taken care of, too.

"Hmmm. Maybe you'd be able to take off in a few minutes. It's looking to be a lovely night. Perhaps a walk in the garden?"

"What a lovely idea. It's such a romantic evening. Why don't you give me about ten minutes to clean up a bit. Or perhaps I should change first?"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary." Quite unnecessary, in fact. I looked forward to unlacing that bodice! "But maybe a small bottle of wine? And two glasses?"

"I'll be back before you know it," she said. And then taking away the last of the dishes, she turned away. My eyes followed the wiggle of her derriere, as I listened to the click of her high heeled sandals as she left.

I drained my coffee, and waited the longest ten minutes I've spent in a long time. It seemed longer, but I glanced at my watch as she returned, and it was almost ten on the dot. I stood to greet her and, removing the chilled bottle of wine from her hand, took her hand in my free hand and bent over it, kissing it. Teresa's face lit up, as she cooed, "Oh, Mr. deFrame, you're such a gentleman." Linking her arm in mine, we walked through the French doors into the courtyard.

The wait had been worth it. Teresa looked even better, if at all possible. In ten minutes she had washed her face and hands (And maybe more!), brushed out her hair, applied a light but powerful perfume, changed into a clean uniform (both parts), and changed to a pair of sheer stockings. Stopping near the edge of the stone courtyard, I opened the bottle of wine and poured us each a glass. Then we continued walking, sipping and talking.

Finally we came to a rather dark and secluded section near the jogging path. Setting my glass and the bottle down on a low stone wall, I placed my hands on her waist and gently lifted her onto it. Then I refilled our glasses.

"Just look," said Teresa, pointing to the full moon. "In Mexico, that's called the 'Lover's Moon'. It's the moon of romance."

Now this I took with a fair sized grain of salt. I knew that if I came a few weeks later, during the crescent moon, I'd be told the same thing. But I looked up anyway, and agreed that it was a sight to make anyone romantic.

"It's so warm, tonight. Don't you agree?," asked Teresa.

It was warm, but when I looked at her again, I suspected the faint sheen of perspiration was due more to the wine, and her desires. Stepping closer, I drained my glass, and set it to the side. Reaching up to her collar, I placed my fingers on the lacing holding it together, and said, "Perhaps, we should loosen this up, and you'd be able to breathe easier." As I slowly undid the silky laces, I moved my head towards hers, and Teresa's soft, full lips met mine.

We kissed for several minutes, the girl's tongue darting out to explore my lips, my teeth, my tongue. We continued kissing until I had finished unlacing her bodice. Then I broke the kiss, and stepped back slightly. Moving closer, I stepped between her widespread knees, and tenderly pushed her collar down, off her shoulders. Lord, she had beautiful breasts! Soft and firm at the same time, with tiny nipples that jutted from the tips, aiming straight at me from the large full tits. I leaned back in and resumed our kiss, as I moved my hands along her flanks until they cupped her fullness. Teresa moaned into my open mouth, as my thumbs softly flicked those nipples, and my fingers gently kneaded her breasts. Her moans became rapidly more heated, and our tongues frantically sought each other, to begin a silent dance in the dark.

Teresa's fingers, hitherto laced behind my neck, moved to my front, and beneath our joined faces, began to unbutton my dress shirt. Partially open, she moved those fingers within, and I soon felt the long fingernails scratching at my nipples. Once more, I broke the kiss. Leaning downward, I pulled her petticoat up to my waist, and began to slowly unbutton it. As each button opened, I allowed a little of the fabric to slip through my fingers, slowly draping away from the long legs. As soon as I began this, Teresa resumed undoing my shirt. But even better, she lifted her legs and wrapped them behind mine, trapping me in a situation I had no thought of escaping. Taking my time, I undid all her buttons but the last, the top most, so she was still wearing the petticoat, but now quite immodestly. The sheer nylons stopped slightly above mid-thigh, and pointed the way to the soft curls at their apex. She was a natural redhead.

I moved my hands back to Teresa's breasts and began fondling them again. By now she had completely undone my shirt, and her supple fingers moved lower. The caresses I lavished on her tits had begun to really work her up. Now the was lightly sweating all over, the moon reflecting brightly off her shoulders and her belly as well. Her breasts heaved beneath my hands, and her breathing became shorter and more ragged. Despite the way her dress' shoulders inhibited her arm motions, she quickly undid my belt and zipper. Pushing my slacks down and grasping my erect manhood in both hands, Teresa tightened her legs around my waist, and drew me into her.

Positioning my cockhead at the entrance to her cleft, she pulled me within. I leaned forward and buried myself. Despite my intention to slowly enter her, Teresa literally dragged me deeper, gently tugging on my engorged root, as her legs continued tightening around me. I shuffled forward, being careful not to knock her off the wall. I could see the deep flush come across her breasts and face. My fingers continued to nip and pinch her nipples, and the aroused girl kept both hands in our joined crotches. I began thrusting in and out, as Teresa's legs spasmodically pulled me in and then released me back again. Her thumbs worked frantically on her clitoris, hidden within the folds of flesh, and her fingernails, before so delightfully scratching my chest, now scratched the sides and bottom of my cock.

If Teresa wasn't the original 'Juicy Lucy', like Kathy this morning, she was sure a close second. As I fucked her, I could feel her hot juices running down my cock, to evaporate off my balls, swinging beneath me in the cool breeze. I leaned back in, and she frantically began to kiss me, hard and desperate. Her moans of passion became louder, and were no longer stopped in my throat. Within moments, she began bucking uncontrollably against me, her hands flying back to my naked ass, dragging me even closer.