God Girls' Guide to Good Sex

Monday

I looked at my watch; it wasn't even noon yet. But I was thousands of miles from where I started the day. The transition from the February cold of La Crosse, Wisconsin to the tropical jungle paradise of Cancun, Mexico had me coated in a fine layer of sweat. I was in a shuttle van, driving north of the city, away from the airport and to my destination - a resort on the gulf coast. I was treating myself to a much needed three days of rest and relaxation.

The vegetation became thicker and the weather steamier as we drove further from the city. I kept my eyes on the scenery, this being my first trip to Mexico, and with each resort we passed my anticipation grew. How long would it be until I was poolside with a drink in my hand?

There was one other couple in the shuttle with me and the driver. I assumed they were honeymooners, based on their age and displays of affection. I was guessing they were in their mid 20s, their accents made me think they were from the northeast. I felt a pang of shame when I felt my own 30something year old ring finger, unadorned.

Then the shuttle slowed, and I saw a sign with words that I recognized. We turned through an opening gate and the foliage parted, revealing a circular drive leading to a covered entry, at which waited two well dressed attendants.

The honeymooners exited the shuttle first and were quickly ushered through a door to the left, their bags following them. I was guided to a door to the right, the attendant whisking away my suitcase from the back of the shuttle. I wouldn't see it again until I entered my room.

Inside I was greeted with a cool towel and a glass of ice water with lemon and cucumber. Another well dressed man gestured toward a plush chair in front of his desk and started the check-in process on his computer.

"Welcome to Playa Mujeres, is this your first visit?"

"Yes," I responded, taking a sip of water.

"And is it Miss Gomes?" he asked, pronouncing it with two syllables, like first name of the progenitor of the Addams Family. He had a puzzled look that I had encountered before when meeting people from a spanish speaking background, trying to square the seeming ethnicity of my last name with my pale blonde midwestern appearance and demeanor.

"Yes, Meredith Gomes," I answered, rhyming it with "homes" and correcting his pronunciation. I had my passport and a printed copy of my reservation confirmation ready to hand over. He reached out for them without asking, and after what I thought was more time and keystrokes than necessary, he struck one more key with a flourish and announced the process complete.

He passed my documents to me and then presented a wrist band that would serve as my room key and perform any other function needed during my stay. He ensured that it was securely on my wrist, then led me on a quick tour. His place at the door was taken by another employee waiting in the wings, lest another party need checking in during his absence.

The resort was as beautiful as I hoped it would be when I made the reservation almost a year earlier, on the recommendation of a member of my congregation. Just inside the entry was a large hall, high ceiling, a lot of overstuffed leather furniture, and a well stocked bar. The wall opposite the entry, behind the bar, was three stories of windows, overlooking more jungle, and with the Gulf of Mexico in the background. A uniformed man and woman behind the bar nodded and smiled at me as we passed. Several other guests were spread out, sipping on drinks or coffee and enjoying the air conditioning.

He first showed me where several of the restaurants were. The resort was all-inclusive, with different dining options, including restaurants featuring local Mexican food, Asian, sushi, Italian, a classic American steak and potatoes place, and near the pool a restaurant with lighter, Mediterranean style cuisine. There were a few stand-alone bars mixed in also. He showed me the spa and explained how I could make a reservation for any spa services using the tablet ouside the spa door. He also pointed out several other tablets where dinner reservations could be made and other information found. He then made a oint of taking me up to show off the roof top bar. Honestly at that point I really just wanted to get to my room, but he was adamant. In hindsight it was worth it, as the rooftop bar featured an amazing view of the area, and included hot tub seating for patrons along with the normal stools and tables and couches. Then it was back down the elevator and to my room.

He showed me how the wristband unlocked the door just by being waved in front of the sensor, then we entered. There was a small entryway with two closets for storage and a bench. Past that the room opened up to a large bathroom with movable walls, so that it could be kept open or made private. In the bathroom was a large soaking tub facing a walk-in shower that could easily be used to wash a MINI Cooper. A separate room for the commode and long, two-sink countertop and makeup mirror completed the room.

Past the bathroom was the rest of the suite, featuring a king sized bed in the middle of the room, unencumbered except for a small night stand so that it could be circled on foot. Beyond that was a small desk, a large sofa that appeared to be upholstered in leather or vinyl, a small circle table with two chairs, and the patio door that lead out to the private balcony. I looked out the patio door and could see the beach and water beyond, with the pool just below.

Already in the room was my suitcase, and on the table was a bucket of ice, bottle of champagne, and two flutes. I ignored it; I guess their reservation system wasn't properly updated. I attempted to tip my tour guide, but he advised that there was no need. He said that I was free to tip the bartenders, and that since they didn't expect guests to carry around cash, a single gratuity could be paid at checkout that would be divided among all the bartenders and servers, but any other service was otherwise covered with what was already paid. I thanked him and he left me to unpack.

The door closed behind him and I promptly made sure that it was secure, adding the extra deadbolt lock. Then it was off with my clothes. I had changed into shorts in the Minneapolis airport, and now they were on the floor, quickly followed by the tshirt that completed my outfit. Now, in just bra and panties, I could breathe.

I lifted my heavy suitcase onto the luggage rack and unzipped it. I opened the door to one of the closets, in which I found two plush white robes waiting for me, and slid open a few drawers. Into the first drawer went the underwear I packed for the week, ranging in style and coverage depending on what I thought might be needed. The second drawer got the swimwear I packed. This included a modest green one piece swimsuit (and matching mesh floral skirt that I could wear with it for a more complete outfit) and two more modest bikinis, one in blue and the other in a pale pink that matched my skin enough to give the impression of nudity. They showed less skin than my bra and panties (high waist, full seat coverage) and were determined to be appropriate for swimming parties with a pre-teen church group (but not the teens) as they covered my naughty bits and the small tattoo on my hip.

Also into that drawer went a new purchase, the proverbial itsy bity teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini, which was also a literal itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini. I had purchased it online late one night, and was surprised to discover how well it fit and how much I liked how I looked in it. Last into that drawer went an oversized men's white linen shirt, nearly see through, and with the arms ripped off. That was my designated cover up for getting to and from the pool.

Another drawer got a few tshirts and shorts that I brought just in case, as well as the clothes I just discarded, and my return trip clothes - a sweatshirt and jeans to get me through the cold back to my car. To the hangers I added several light summer dresses that I was really looking forward to wearing. Sundress season in Wisconsin is too short, so I wanted to get the most out of them this week. One was light blue with a floral design. Another yellow also with a floral design, covering less of my thighs, and the third was a classier little black dress, should an evening event call for it.

The contents of my makeup and toiletry bag were spread across the large countertop, and a few pairs of sandals and heels and sneakers were set on the floor of the closet. My phone charger was set up on the small nightstand, and I plugged in my phone, then turned on some music. I spun around the room and took it all in. I had arrived and could feel the tension leaving my shoulders.

I moved back to the patio door and looked out to the beach, then the pool. I had all afternoon... and the pool looked so perfect. I took a quick survey of everyone in the room and it was a unanimous decision; time for the pool! (I could get used to travelling alone.)

I moved to the full length mirror next to the closet and shed my bra and panties. I took it all in and messed my hair, posed with hand on hip, turned 90 degrees clockwise and took another view. Not too shabby... Like all the women in my family, I inherited a pear shaped body and smaller breasts, but with it came a slim midsection and thighs that were unaffected by my inconsistent diet. I did yoga and pilates regularly, which definitely had a positive effect on my rear end. But as I'd tell anyone who asked, I thought my best feature was my slender neck and shoulders. I kept my wavy blonde hair in a bob to ensure my neck was always visible. I guess I was on the shorter side, about 5'4", but I'd say that it all worked well together.

I spent another moment in front of the mirror, examining the result of the brazilian wax I'd received the Friday before. Everything was still smooth and bare. I let my fingers brush over my pale skin, then slid them around my back and down my bare cheeks, letting the touch linger for a moment. The air conditioning had dried that layer of sweat, and my skin was soft and smooth to the touch. I thought about taking a break for some alone time, but there'd be plenty of that later. I was wasting daylight. It was pool time!

Oh, yeah, another thing, sunscreen. Still standing in front of the mirror, I located one of the two full bottles of sunscreen I brought with me. My Norwegian DNA screamed for the highest SPF possible, and I didn't want to disappoint, lest I immediately transition from pale to burned. I liberally and methodically applied the sunscreen to every part of my naked body, studying myself in the mirror closely to ensure that it was all rubbed in and there were no unsightly white patches of unabsobed lotion remaining.

After at least 20 minutes of work, I was sure that I was protected. I opened the drawer with the swimsuits and considered my choices. Was the new bikini too itsy bitsy? Maybe I should save that for tomorrow, after getting a sense of the dress code of the other resort guests. I picked up the pink bikini and put it on, checked myself out in the mirror again, and gave myself a nod of approval. I slipped into some sandals, put on the white linen cover-up, and topped it all with a straw fedora with navy blue hat band (every midwesterner had that beach vacation fedora in their closet at home) and sunglasses.

Next to the door was a beach bag provided by the resort, already stocked with two towels and a bottle of water. I added to that my phone and airpods, the bottle of sunscreen, and a book that was recommended by some of the women in my congregation. It was called "Burnout," found in the self help section of any decent book store, and was intended to advise the modern woman how to do it all without, I assume, burning out. I wasn't previously aware that I was at risk of that until others told me how urgent it was that I read the book. I hadn't cracked it open on the plane, and now the bright pink cover screamed for my attention.

In two minutes I was poolside, scanning the chairs lined up around the pool, broken up by a few covered cabanas which were already filled with content couples of various ages. At the far end of the pool was a bar with a walk up side and a swim up side. The bar was buzzing with waiters delivering drinks to those who couldn't be bothered to move from their chairs. On the opposite side of the pool was a small patch of empty lounge chairs between already lounging guests.

I made my way around the pool and picked out the middle of the three empty chairs, spreading out my towel. To my right was an older couple silently enjoying the sun and not interacting. On the rocks behind me, away from the pool, an iguana was lazily catching some sun too. I don't see too many of those in Wisconsin, but assumed that if I left it alone, it would leave me alone. To my left was a woman in a black two piece, alone and laying on her back. Her sunglasses were too dark for me to notice if she was awake and looking at me or just snoozing away the afternoon. I stepped out of my sandals and slid the linen shirt off my shoulders, folding it and putting it into the beach bag. I laid down on the chair, back down tits up to start, and reached into my bag, my fingers finding the book and moving past it to my phone and airpods. I put them in and started a true crime podcast that I'd been saving for this week.

Within seconds a waiter interrupted me for my drink order. I asked for a margarita without hesitation, then as he stepped away I added that he should just bring two, save himself a trip. This elicited a snort and chuckle from black bikini (so she was awake) who raised an empty glass and requested two of the same for herself. She then used the interruption to roll onto her stomach, her head turned toward me. I still couldn't tell if her eyes were open, but allowed myself to ignore her and fade into the story of a horrible unsolved murder. The drinks arrived a moment later and I made quick work of the first, setting the second aside to be savored.

I lay there for more than 30 minutes, not moving except to sip my drink, occasionally glancing at black bikini and seeing that she also hadn't moved. My podcast was getting a bit darker than I expected, the descriptions of dismemberment clashing with my surroundings and the overall chill vibe I was hoping to capture. I made the decision to turn it off and put away my airpods, then rolled onto my stomach and let my back get some sun. As I turned I glanced at the iguana, still lounging and looking me over. I got settled and parted my legs slightly, allowing a gentle breeze to move up between my thighs and give me an appreciated tingle. I subtly ground my hips into the chair, just a bit, trying to find the slightest bit of friction. I masked a second, more intentional attempt by reaching for the book in my bag. I was scanning the equally distinctive pink back cover for probably the ninth time when I heard a voice.

"I know that book. I couldn't make it past the back cover either."

It was black bikini. She hadn't moved in a while; still laying on her stomach with her face toward me, just one empty chair and a few empty margarita glasses between us. I assumed that her husband or whoever would have filled that chair by now.

"Sorry," she added, "didn't mean to impose. It's just that the cover really stands out."

"Yeah," I resonded, "I had a few people recommend it to me. Not sure why I bought it though. Maybe they were trying to tell me something? I dunno, should I feel insulted?"

She let out another chuckle. "You're poolside in paradise, sipping margaritas and rocking a bikini. You don't need any book to tell you how to live your life."

Hearing that elicited a physical reaction in me. I could feel myself getting warm all over, but also a sensation like pride, elation, like I'd won a prize or caught a stranger checking me out. I lifted my nearly empty second margarita and held it toward her. "Thanks, and ditto! Cheers!" She raised her glass and clinked mine, then we both emptied them. The attentive waiter was there a minute later with another for each of us and to take away the empties.

"So who was the rotten friend who recommended that book to you?" she asked. We had broken the seal and were now ready for some conversation. We were both still laying on our stomachs, now propping ourselves up on our elbows and turning slightly to face each other.

I thought about telling her a lie, making up a story that wouldn't reveal too much about myself. I had never travelled alone before, at least not to another country, but the anonymity and ability to create any backstory was appealing. But something told me that I should tell her the truth about myself, that she would understand more than others. So I gave her my story.

"Not a rotten friend, actually. It was a group of women. Part of my job is to lead a womens' support group, and one of the members brought the book to the rest of the group. She was so excited about it, and got the rest of the group excited about it, so I thought I should check it out."

"Interesting," she responded with a surprising amount of sincerity. She also turned onto her side to better face me. I couldn't help but take a long look at her body, hoping that my sunglasses disguised my gaze as well as hers did. She had a darker complexion than me (but who didn't?), olive skin, dark hair turned frizzy in the tropical humidity and held back from her face with a black headband. She had large, round breasts that seemed out of place with her long, slender arms, legs and torso. She seemed just a few situps away from six pack abs. I wondered if she was some type of athlete, maybe a marathon runner or volleyball player. Definitely gave the impression of an experienced dancer. "You lead a support group. So are you a psychologist or social worker or something?"

I took a sip from my drink to build suspense. "Actually, I'm a Lutheran pastor. I have a church in Wisconsin. So I lead womens' groups and youth groups and other various community activities, and every Sunday morning I robe up and take the stage. I've got almost 300 families in my congregation." I'd seen before how some people react to learning about my job, and I really hoped she wasn't one of the ones who clammed up and felt weird about talking to someone in the clergy.

She leaned closer then spoke. "Really? I didn't know women could be pastors."

"You're thinking of the Catholics. Still no women priests or deacons. But Lutherans have allowed women pastors for a while. I like to think that we're the chillest Christians." I tried one of my standard youth group lines on her. She gave me a polite chuckle in response, then jumped right to a question I wasn't expecting.

"But do you still have to be celibate? I only ask because I don't see a ring..." She nodded toward my left hand, which I then held out between us. I also noticed that her left hand was on display and was also unadorned.

"Nope, that's the Catholics too. I'm allowed, " and here is where the margaritas really started to kick in, "just unfortunately lacking at the moment."

"It's like I'm looking in a mirror," she remarked with a smirk, then raised her drink for another clink from mine. "I'm Leah."

"Meredith."

When she heard my name her lips tightened and her head turned slightly sideways. Not the first time I'd seen that response. I wasn't a huge fan of the name either. When I was younger, friends would shorten it to Em, and past boyfriends usually ended at the same place, but now I was stuck with it through professional usage.

"You don't look like a Meredith. Give me some time and I'll see what I can do."

I laughed, not realizing that she was serious. Then she continued.

"I meant that mirror thing literally, you know. I'm actually in the clergy myself. I'm a rabbi."

I laughed out loud at her joke, then added, "Yeah, all we need now is a Buddhist monk to join us at the swim up bar and we'll have a great start to a joke."

We both laughed, then she reached out her long, lean arm across the empty chair between us and put her hand on mine. "No, really, I am. I lead a synagogue just outside of Philadelphia. This is the first vacation I've had in two years. Late February after Tu BiShvat is always a good time for rabbis to get away. Things pick up again in a few weeks. I guess that's the same for you too, though."

I could feel my mouth hanging open, looking for a response, feeling embarrassed for not believing her. I finally stammered out "Huh, I didn't think women could be rabbis."

She broke into a giant smile. "Nope, that's the Catholics." We both had a good laugh. Then "And I don't have to be celibate either."

That proclamation lingered between us. Then she smoothly slid off her chair and into the previously unoccupied chair between us. She laid down on her side, facing me, and I took the cue to do the same, facing her propped up on my elbow so that I could still sip from my drink and glance around the pool, and keep an eye on the iguana who hadn't moved in a while now. (Was it still alive? Was it a statue to amuse tourists like me?) I realized that I was still nervous about being seen by someone I knew, worried that I would do something that would garner disapproval. I silently chastised myself for that, then forgave myself, recognizing that I was just a few hours into my vacation and deserved some grace.

"Did you just arrive today?" she asked.

"I did. I just flew in this morning."

"I checked in yesterday. I think you're the only other solo traveler I've seen here." Then she caught herself "Well, I guess I assume you're here alone. Are you?"

"Yes, not intentionally, but that's a long story."

"I should have guessed this would be a resort full of couples. No kids allowed. And it was recommended to me by a couple I married who honeymooned here. I did get some odd looks while eating dinner alone last night."

"Same. This place was also recommended to us, er, me by a couple from my church." Her mention of dinner made me realize that I hadn't eaten anything since before boarding the plane. Not wanting to be the one to ask the obvious question that hung between us (damn midwestern sensibilities), I instead asked "How is the food here?"

"Well the fish tacos were amazing. I'm planning on going back for more for dinner later." Then she took the bullet for me, asking "Would you like to join me?"

"Yes, I'd like that" I answered, maybe a little too quickly.

"Great, I think I have a table reserved at 5:00. I hope that isn't too early, but I'm dealing with a time zone change, and travelling in general messes with my body clock."

"No problem at all."

"I'll see you then." She started to sit up and gather her things. I couldn't help but stare at her breasts which were now on full display. "I think we'll have a lot to talk about. But I really want to freshen up and take a shower before then. Have you used your shower yet? They're fantastic. I've taken four since I got here yesterday."

"No, not yet, but that does sound like a good idea. I'm excited to use my soaking tub too."

She slipped on a black mesh kimono-style cover up, leaving it unbelted, then stood and picked up her own beach bag. She paused and looked down at me. "I've put a lot of thought into this," she smirked as she said this. "I want you to try on the name Mitzi. I just think that Pastor Mitzi has a nice ring to it." She turned and walked away, around the pool and back into the hotel. I stared at her ass the whole way, and she looked over her shoulder to catch me a few times, always with the same smirk.

When she was out of view I emptied the last margarita glass and melted back into my chair. My mind was flooding with memories I'd buried. Playing spin the bottle at sleepovers and practicing kissing techniques with my friends. Leg wrestling in the lake at summer camp. The friend across the hall in my freshman dorm, the nights we spent cuddling and lamenting the lack of good boyfriend material.

Then a more shameful memory, the night I opened up a little too much to my finacee. Two days later he asked for the ring back. I spent the weeks that followed begging for refunds from florists and caterers and cake decorators. Desperate, I used my job and the opportunities it gave me to make recommendations to young couples to motivate the forgiveness of various vendors. And it worked. But at the last minute I decided to keep the honeymoon booked. I just updated the number of visitors from 2 to 1, and changed the last name of the reservation to my maiden name.

This is what I feared would happen. Being here, without him. Being reminded of what ended the engagement. I suddenly felt the urge to hide, as though being there alone made visible my entire life story to all the happy vacationing couples. I gathered up my things and went back into the hotel, back to my room. I stripped off the bikini and sat on the couch, naked, staring at the bottle of champagne, now in a bucket of water.

I sent out a silent mental message to my boss, asking for reassurance that I wasn't a bad person, not for the first time. Asking for the same gracious understanding that I give to those coming to me with their own concerns. A moment of silence was broken by faint voices of people passing in the hall. All I could hear through the thick door and walls were whispered mumbles, but one word stood out; shower.

I said amen, then popped the cork on the champagne and enjoyed a glass, still sitting on the couch naked and centered in a sunbeam coming through the patio door. When the glass was empty, I stood. I picked my bikini and coverup off the floor and put them back in the closet. I plugged in my phone. Then I gathered up the necessary shampoo and soap and entered the large shower.

There were definitely more controls than I was used to, with a large, overhead showerhead and a separate hand-held sprayer with its own set of controls. On the side of the shower opposite the door was a long bench on which I could completely lay down. Definitely a shower built for more than one...

I eventually got the water to the right temperature, then stood directly under the flow, enjoying the rain-like sensation and feeling clean for the first time in days. I took my time to clean myself, washing away all the sunblock and the airport grime underneath.

When I was done, I let the water run while I sat on the bench. I looked out through the steam covered door and could see the tub, with the bed behind that and the patio door behind the bed. I let my head fall back and moved my right hand to my right breast. I felt the soft skin, let my fingers trace over my nipple until it was hard, right up until it started to sting with each motion. Then I did the same with my left hand and left breast. When both nipples were hard I played with them in tandem, now reveling in each sharp sting. I spread my legs and moved my hands down my body, over my thighs. I imagined someone in the tub, watching me, watching me perform for them, watching as my fingers disappeared into me. I lost track of time; was it seconds or hours? I heard myself moan out loud, felt my body tighten and convulse. Part of me said stop, and another part said to keep going. More moans. I nearly slid off the bench, but moved my left hand back to support myself. More moans, more convulsions. My right hand slowly slid away, back up to my breast, then to my lips.

I opened my eyes and turned off the water. I sat in the steam for a few more minutes before finding a towel. I silently cursed myself for not bringing a toy to play with. Just too paranoid about who would see it, the potential for security alerts and confiscation and embarrassment. I pulled one of the robes out of the closet and wrapped it around me, leaving it open in front and leaving my towel on a hook next to the shower.

I checked the time, then stood in front of the sink and mirror. I dried my hair, put on some makeup, pale pink lipstick. I decided that I'd wear the yellow dress to dinner tonight. Over white bikini style panties. I was unsure about whether to wear a bra. I tried on the dress without a bra, then with a tiny white bra not too dissimilar from the first bra I had as a teen. I decided to leave the bra on.

A few minutes later I was putting on my heels and heading for the door. I opened the door and stepped into the hall, then heard another door open. I turned and saw, two doors down, Leah stepping out of her room. She was wearing a full length black and white floral skirt and a tight black cami top leaving just a whisp of bare midriff. No bra. Her hair was still held back by a black headband, and for the first time I saw her eyes. The were big and round and brown and gorgeous. Seeing her without the sunglasses made her look younger than I initially thought, closer to my own age. She turned to me and smiled.

"Mitzi. Perfect timing. It's nice that we're so close..." She let that statement linger, leaving the double meaning unspoken. I stepped to her and she wordlessly took my arm to lead me to the restaurant.

"You were so right about the shower," I said.

I felt her grip on my arm tighten, then she added "It's like a small corner of heaven."

We walked down the hall toward the lobby, then down a flight of stairs to the Mexican restaurant. We stopped at the check-in stand at the door and she informed them of her reservation, and that I was joining her. The host scanned her wristband, then mine, then typed for a minute. He nodded and said "very good, right this way," leading us to a table with three chairs. He pulled out our chairs for us, leaving the third undisturbed, then handed us our menus. We got a good seat near the window with a nice view of the darkening sky. Almost immediately our feet settled next to each other under the table.

The menu consisted mostly of elevated street tacos and sides. I noticed a few other tables with long trays of add-ons that you could use to build your taco however you liked it, after ordering just the main meat or veggie filling. The waiter came and took our drink orders, two more margaritas, and our food orders. Leah went first, ordering a grilled veggie taco, a spicy tuna taco, and a california style fish taco, to start. I also ordered the spicy tuna, as well as calamari and chorizo.

When the waiter left I had a moment of panic. "Oh, chorizo, that's pork isn't it, will that be a problem? Do you keep kosher?"

"Not a problem at all," she said, patting my hand. The more I studied her face, the younger I thought she looked, but her attitude and mannerisms still made me think she was older, more mature. I was just too polite to ask though. Maybe it would come up organically.

"I do keep kosher, but I've actually been a pescatarian for more than a year. For health reasons. I tried going full vegetarian, but that was just too hard. So I added fish back to my diet, still avoiding shellfish, and I love it."

"Health reasons? Nothing too serious I hope."

"Oh, no no no..." she chuckled. "Not sure how up to date you are on the jewish mother stereotypes..."

"Just what I see on tv," I said, only half joking. Wait, was she telling me that she is a mother? Why did that make my stomach hurt?

"Ok, so jewish mother 101. Every jewish mother wants their son to be a doctor or a lawyer or a rabbi."

"So far matching what I've seen on tv."

"And the next best thing is for their son to marry a doctor, lawyer or especially a rabbi," she motioned to herself, specifically to her breasts, which I couldn't help but stare at. "Well, moms, some moms, are ready to put in the work to woo those lady rabbis on behalf of their sons. So when I started working at my current temple, I got the full court press from a group of moms. Every week brought a hoard of baked goods, and a couple nights a week I had men taking me out for expensive dinners or, even worse, home cooked meals. I gained three sizes in six months. I had to put a stop to it. And it would've been too controversial to tell the moms directly to stop wooing me, so one week I craftily worked my own switch to vegetarianism into my sermon. It was a stretch, but I think I made a good connection between brisket overconsumption and the Torah. Anyway, the deluge of food ceased, and I was able to slim back down to what you see before you."

"Very well done," I said, a little too lustily. I intended the complement to be for her trickery, but realized after that it could be applied to both that and her body. The look on her face, and the way she seemed to puff out her chest made me think she had the same realization.

"So none of those guys broke through? No current partner?" I asked.

"No... they were all kinda, I don't know, boring? I mean plenty of nice guys, good looking enough, successful enough, but just not what I was looking for. I think I like more of a blue collar type. Someone who looks good in jeans and who can fix a sink."

She leaned over the table, closer to me, showing more cleavage. "When I was 18, working as a summer camp counselor, I saw this guy, probably college aged, in the woods, just chopping firewood with an axe. I watched him, mesmerized, for like 20 minutes. It was a very important moment in my life."

"Oooh" I responded with girlish glee, thinking back to my own summer camp days. "So you just watched?" I was hoping for some jucier datails.

"Yeah, just watched." She leaned back in her chair. "If I saw him today..." She shook her head and smiled wide. "Well, it'd be a while before he could swing that axe again."

We both laughed and sipped from our drinks. Our food arrived, and we busied ourselves topping our tacos with various salsas and cheeses and guacamole and diced veggies. She was right in her earlier review. The food was amazing. So much better than any tacos I'd had in Wisconsin.

Eventually she asked for my story. "So you know why I'm here alone. Why are you here alone?"

"I was engaged... This was supposed to be our honeymoon."

She nearly spit out her drink, or at least wanted me to think that. "Oh! Wow... so much better than my story. Can you tell me about it?"

"Well, about six months ago, we had a disagreement about something, and he decided that it was a deal breaker for him. So he asked for the engagement ring back. That was it."

She looked deep into my eyes. I could see that she was really good at her job. Her voice lowered. "I would really like to know about the disagreement, what it was about, but I completely understand if you don't want to talk about that." Her hand rested on mine again.

"Thanks. You might get it out of me after a few more of these." I picked up my empty glass and we both chuckled. The waiter then magically appeared with another for me and one for Leah. He was really good at his job too.

"So then how about you tell me what made you decide to become a pastor?"

"Ok, but that probably isn't as interesting a story," I said, between bites of taco. "We might need to order more of these too."

"I was thinking the same." She glaced toward the waiter and he appeared again. We both ordered two more, me ordering a steak taco and, out of solidarity, a veggie taco.

"I remember being like 7 or 8, and church was always just a place my parents made me go on Sunday before the Packers game. Then on one random Thursday we drove by the church and the parking lot was full. And I realized for the first time that it was an actual place where people worked and where things happened, not just on Sunday morning. Then when I was a teenager, I was always the one friend being supportive and trying to offer advice and solve people's problems. Not even in a religious way or spiritual way, but just always trying to help. So at summer camp I'm just doing my thing, and this woman approaches, and she tells me that she's a pastor at another church, I didn't even know women could be pastors. She just complemented me on what she had overheard me telling a friend. And that was all I needed."

"When did you tell your parents you wanted to be a pastor?"

"That was a few years later, probably 17. They were pretty quiet, then my dad said 'I hope you'll be one of the good ones, and remember that it's about people, not magic.' That one sentence from him has really shaped my faith since then. It's about people, not magic."

"It's a really good thing you're not Catholic."

"But the clincher was when I was 18, just before I graduated from high school. I was still just terrified by the thought of having to get up and talk in front of hundreds of people every week. So I forced myself to try out for my school musical."

"Ooh... What was the play?"

"Little Shop of Horrors." Leah's eyes widened. "Now keep in mind that I had never been in any other school play or musical in the years up to that. I just showed up on audition day with all the theater kids, and sang a song. The next day the director pulled me out of my Physics class and told me that I was his Audrey"

"The female lead."

"That's the one," I answered, using my dusty Brooklyn falsetto. Her eyes got even bigger. Bigger than they had a right to be. I swooned just a little bit. "So I threw myself into it. All my friends thought I was nuts. But opening night came and I nailed it. It was so much better than I though it would be, than I thought I could be. So that convinced me that I could perform for the crowd, that this was the right path for me."

"So you were brought to God by a singing alien plant."

"Yup. But isn't that what Kabbalah is too?" I tried out some religious humor and it hit.

She snorted and laughed so loud that a few other tables looked over. Now it was my turn to put my hand on hers. I leaned in and gave an apology in case my joke crossed a line, but she quickly waived it off. "No... no need... I'm gonna steal that line..."

Our legs were now pressed against each other, the smooth skin of our bare calves competing to impress the other. Her laughter subsided and we gazed into each others eyes, both unable to stifle our goofy grins. I thought about backtracking here, telling her about what ended my engagement, but hesitated. Instead I asked, "So how did you end up as a rabbi? I bet your mom was thrilled."

She looked down to her plate and swirled her drink in her hand. "I actually decided to become a rabbi when I was 12, right after my mom died."

I audibly grunted with regret for asking. "Oh, I'm sorry, we don't need to talk about it." My hand found her empty hand, and my leg instinctively pulled back from hers.

"No, it's ok," she answered, looking up and smiling at me. "My mom was a ballet teacher, and I was one of her better students. She would always tell me though that I was not under any pressure to do ballet, that if it stopped being fun I should give it up. I was just a little kid though; all I knew was that I was good at it and I liked spending time with my mom.

"So when I was 11 and studying Torah for my Bat Mitvah, I got assigned to the cranky old rabbi that none of the kids liked. And instead of going to ballet practice, for months I was going to his dark, smelly office, and studying. And whenever I made a mistake he would scold me, and at the end of each lesson he would dismiss me with a grunt. And I just couldn't wait for the whole thing to be over.

"So one day I leave his office and my dad is waiting there to pick me up. And he tells me that my mom had a stroke, out of the blue, and she was gone. No warning, no lingering in a hospital bed. She was there and then she was gone.

"For the next few weeks I skipped Torah study. I didn't go to school. Didn't do anything, really. Finally, my dad told me it was time to get back to living. He drives me to temple, and the old rabbi is there waiting for me. I sit in his office and open the Torah and start to read, then he closed it and sat next to me. We spent the next hour talking about my mom, who was also his student years earlier, and about death and grief and loss. And it turned out that this cranky old man was the kindest, sweetest person to me, knowing exactly what I needed to hear and being the only person to help me through that horrible time. So at my Bat Mitzvah, he stood there right next to me, with his hand on my shoulder as I did the reading. And when I finished I looked up and saw him smile. And I knew then that I wanted to be a rabbi."

There was a moment of silence between us, me not knowing how to respond to her story, also sensing that she wasn't quite done. After a pause, she looked up, her eyes wet with tears, and added, "Years later, when I started rabbi training, my dad hooked up with a new age Stevie Nicks look-alike shiksa and fucked off to New Mexico. I've visited a few times; its all crystals and silk scarves and longhorn skulls. He seems happy though. I eventually got back into ballet, for fun... for exercise... but mostly because it reminds me of her." She leaned forward again, more cleavage... "And because I look fantastic in a leotard."

Under the table, her leg relocated mine and noticably rubbed against it. "And now you're all up to date on my life. Except for my history of lovers. We should save that topic for dessert."

She wasnt kidding. After another round of drinks, we cleaned our plates and let the conversation move on to other topics; places we'd traveled, places we wanted to travel to. We had whispered discussions speculating on some of the other couples in the restaurant, where they were from, what they were celebrating, who'd be making the most noise that night. The waiter eventually brought the dessert menu. Feeling adventerous and obligated to try local foods, I ordered some type of flan, and Leah ordered fruit. When the dessert arrived she announced "I had a marriage proposal recently."

"Well that's news. Please tell me more."

"A guy I've known since we were kids. Our families were friends, well, until... I think he always just assumed we'd get married. After high school we obviously saw less of each other, but kept up to date through Facebook and Instagram. Then one day he showed up at my temple, said he just wanted to see how I was doing, said he was maybe shopping for a new rabbi. We had lunch and chatted. A month later, same thing. Then the next month he just said it. Said he wasn't seeing anyone. He knew I wasn't either. He said he couldn't imagine any future where he and I weren't married."

"Did you suspect it was coming? Did you have an answer ready?"

"Honestly, I told him that I always thought he was gay. But not like in a critical way or anything. I put on my rabbi hat and counseled him, told that he didn't need to marry me or any other woman to keep his parents happy. That he is as God made him, and God wants him to be happy. He didn't take it great. He was dejected, he went completely pale. Didn't say a word. He just nodded and whispered good bye, then left. Three weeks ago I saw a picture of him on Insta, having lunch in Hawaii with a big smile on his face, at a table with a good looking guy. I don't know the specifics, but I chalked that one up as a win."

"Is that Judaism's official position on alternative lifestyles?"

"I might be a little more accepting than some other rabbis. My temple is less conservative, more welcoming than others. It would be hypocritical of me not to be."

"So, you're..."

"I'm someone who likes to try new things, who likes to have new experiences, especially when I'm on vacation." Our legs were now firmly pressed together, and our eyes locked into each others. We both had those goofy smiles again.

"Like you said earlier," I answered quietly, "it's like looking in a mirror."

"And I know just the experience for us."

She stood and took my hand. I stood also, feeling for the first time the effect of all those margaritas. And now that I had a full stomach, the fatigue of my long day was starting to set it. How long had I been awake now? 20 hours? More? She led me out of the restaurant and turned right, not left toward the elevator. We walked to the far end of the hotel, near the beach, where there was a dark bar from which loud music was playing. I briefly imagined a crowded sweaty dance floor, our bodies grinding against each other, would she be able to hold me up?

We walked in and I discovered that it was a karaoke bar. There were a dozen small tables, most of them full, and another group sitting barside. A small stage was at the center, with spotlights and a monitor for lyrics. A DJ in a booth in the back controlled everything.

This was an old fashioned type setup, where the available songs were listed in large binders, a few of which circulated around the room. When someone wanted to sing, they put their name and the song name/number from the binder on a small card that was passed up to the DJ. He announced whose turn it was and cued the music.

We sat at a table and a bartender greeted us. I wasn't sure I could handle another drink, but didn't want to not drink either. He leaned close to me and I shouted over the music "just water for me." Leah did the same, although it sounded more like "two shots of tequila." She grabbed a binder from the next table. I noticed tabs in the binder separating genres of music: Rock, Pop, R&B, Country, even a section for showtunes and standards. She turned away from me to keep me from seeing what she was looking at. I instead turned my attention to the couple on stage doing a pretty good job with a duet of "Don't Go Breaking My Heart." By the time the waiter brought our drinks (two waters and two shots, complete with a salt shaker and two lime wedges - they were really good at this!), Leah had already passed a note up to the DJ booth.

I split my attention between the untouched shot glass in front of me and the next singer, a woman who looked much too young to be singing Patsy Cline's "Crazy," but she was killing it. The crowd cheered when she was done. The DJ then announced that he was going to take a short break.

Leah leaned close to me and I practically rested my head on her shoulder. Her hand slid up my back and stroked the back of my head. I wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep.

"I don't know if you have plans for tomorrow," she asked, "but there's a boat to Isla Mujeres at 10 tomorrow morning. I was planning on going over there to explore, do some shopping. I think it might be more fun with some company. Interested?"

I didn't have any plans for the next day, or any point during my stay, other than laying in the sun. The thought of spending another day with her gave me a jolt of energy. Or, really, the thought of her wanting to spend the day with me gave me that jolt. I told her "I'd like that," and my hand gave her knee a squeeze. Ugh... here I was, barely able to stay awake, but also trying to instigate... stuff... I needed to press pause. I was just about to bare my soul when the DJ returned.

"Next to the stage is Marty, who is looking for something sweet." The crowd cheered and a dude-bro type ran up to the stage. The opening notes of "Pour Some Sugar on Me" played and there was more excited screaming. Marty was serenading a woman who was totally into it. No doubt it was her sugar he wanted all over him. I couldn't be sure, but they might have been the couple I shared the airport shuttle with earlier that day. Was it still the same day?

The song ended and the DJ made his next announcement. "Now we're gonna mix it up with a song I haven't heard in a long time. Here comes Mitzi who's gonna take us on a trip to Broadway."

The crown cheered and I felt Leah's hand on mine, pulling me to the stage. I was on my feet and gliding. I glanced back to the table and saw two empty shot glasses. I didn't remember drinking mine. Did Leah drink them both. The taste in my mouth said otherwise.

Now there was a microphone in my hand, and one in Leah's. I heard music playing. Then Leah started with familiar lyrics.

Lift up your head

Wash off your mascara

Here take my Kleenex, wipe that lipstick away

Show me your face, clean as the morning

I know things were bad but now they're ok

Suddenly Seymour is standing beside you

You don't need no makeup, don't have to pretend

Suddenly Seymour is here to provide you

Sweet understanding, Seymour's your friend.

Those words were like a magic spell; I'd been teleported through space and time. I wasn't in a Mexican karaoke bar any more. I was on stage in a high school in Wisconsin. The lyrics crawled out of the back of my brain, bringing the full Brooklyn accent with it. I picked up the next verse.

Nobody ever treated me kindly

Daddy left early, Mama was poor

I'd meet a man and I'd follow him blindly

He'd snap his fingers, me, I'd say sure.

Suddenly Seymour is standing beside me

He don't give me orders, he don't condescend

Suddenly Seymour is here to provide me

Sweet understanding, Seymour's my friend

Tell me this feeling lasts til forever

Tell me the bad times are clean washed away

Please understand that it's still strange and frightening

For losers like I've been, it's so hard to say

Leah then joined me for the last chorus. We leaned against each other, holding each other up physicaly and musically. When the song ended I couldn't tell if the people clapped or cheered. I only heard my own heart beat and a voice telling me it was time to go. I took her hand, or maybe she took mine, and we quickly exited the stage, then the bar.

As soon as we were through the door, in the empty hallway, I spun her around and pressed her back against the wall. I pressed my body against hers, trying to maximize the physical contact, I raised myself up onto my toes, then moved my lips to hers. Both our mouths were open when they met, and our tongues immediately found each other, slippery and soft and forceful and hungry and tasting of lime. I felt hands on me, and in my hands I felt soft fabric, soft skin. I heard grunts and slurps and moans, and in the distance the sounds of cheering and music and life. Were they cheering for us? Were we still on the stage? I felt another tug on my hand and Leah was leading me down the hallway, back toward our rooms.

My door was first, and I leaned against it to keep my balance. Still holding my hand, she helped guide my wristband over the sensor, unlocking the door. We tumbled in and the door closed behind us.

Now her body was pressing mine into the wall, her lips on my neck, her breasts pushing into mine. My fingers frantically tried to move under her skirt, but it was too long, so I changed my plan of attack and instead pulled the skirt down over her hip. My fingers got tangled in the side of her panties. Was she wearing a g-string? I so wanted to know. I called out her name, "Leah... Leah please..."

She took a half step back, took my face in her hands, pressed her forehead to mine. "I know. We have to stop."

I took a moment. That wasn't what I wanted to say, but she was right. My hands had moved around to her ass; I was squeezing her harder than I should be, my finger tips digging into her soft skin.

"I want you so much. I want this so much. But I can't keep my eyes open."

"I know. Me too." She answered. "How long will you be here?"

"Til Thursday."

"Me too. Til Thursday."

"Can we continue this tomorrow?"

"Yes. Definitely. Do you want to join me on the island tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Meet for breakfast first?"

"Yes."

"Then it's goodnight." She took a half step back, and still holding my face, kissed my forehead.

"Wait... tuck me in..." I moved into the room, toward the bed, hoping she'd follow. As I went, I let my dress fall to the floor, then pulled off my bra and threw it toward the couch. I flopped into the bed and pulled off my panties, also giving them a toss. I lay on top of the bed covers, arms and legs spread, on display for her. She leaned over me, kissed me again, and let her hand slowly slide down my body, between my breasts, down my stomach, across my wet lips and down my thigh. I purred, and whispered "more." Her hand reversed and moved back up my thigh, her finger slid into me, I groaned loudly and arched my back. She shushed me, withdrew the finger, and brought it to her lips.

"I'm going to have such good dreams tonight," I said as she tugged the blankets out from under me and covered me up.

"If you hear loud noises in a few minutes, that's me thinking filthy things about you." She kissed me again and started walking toward the door.

"I'm your shiksa," I drunkenly giggled as she turned out the lights.

"Good night, Mitzi." I heard the door close behind her, then drifted off to sleep.

Tuesday

I woke up for the first time in a dark room. I rolled over and found my phone on the nightstand. It was not yet 4AM. I stretched and got out of bed. Hmm... no headache. No hangover. Either that tequila was really top shelf or how I felt the night before had more to do with fatigue than alcohol. Or maybe the lightheadedness was related to elation, or arousal. I took a few steps, still felt good, then used my phone to light the path to the bathroom.

A few minutes later I was back in bed, a half empty bottle of water joined my phone on the nightstand. I kicked the blankets to the foot of the bed and spread out. I closed my eyes and my thoughts went to Leah. I imagined her next to me, feeling the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin. I imagined listening to her softly snoring while I slid my fingers down between my legs. This was something I'd done a few times with my fiancee when he'd stay over; listen to him sleep while I masturbated, trying to stay quiet enough to not wake him, but also wanting him to catch me and see how he'd respond. Sometimes I'd fantasize about his finger joining mine, surprising me from the inside. Sometimes I'd fanasize about him not touching me, but touching himself while watching me in the dim light of the room, both of us wordlessly finishing together. Sometimes I'd fantasize about finishing with a flourish and having him whisper in my ear "such a naughty girl." All just fantasies. He was such a sound sleeper.

Naughty girl. Those were the words that sent me over the edge. I had my first orgasm of the day, just after 4AM. I got control of my breathing and slid back into sleep.

I woke up for the second time after 7AM. The curtain covering the patio door was left open the night before, and now the room was filled with sunlight. I glanced down at my naked body, no sheets or clothes or pubic hair to offer any modesty. I stretched and moved both hands to my breasts. My thoughts went to Leah again. I remembered stripping for her, showing all of myself to her. I wondered if she'd noticed the tattoo on my hip. I wondered if she liked my pale nipples. I wet my fingers in my mouth and brought them back to my nipples, imagining Leah's soft, wet lips suckling me. My back arched. I had my second orgasm of the day. I lay there in the still quiet room, debating whether to move to the shower or the bath tub.

I rolled onto my stomach and stretched again. I slid my hand between my legs and started grinding against it. I was reminded of summer camp, of the freshman dorm, grinding against a pillow in the dark while my roommates did the same. Waiting until we were satiated before offering a breathy goodnight. I had my third orgasm of the day. I'd better stop, better pace myself. This could be another long day, and I didn't want to be too tired to enjoy it.

I rolled out of bed and knelt on the floor, I interlocked my fingers and closed my eyes. I took a moment to quietly give thanks for my safe travels, for the warm and welcoming resort, for the lack of hangover. I asked that my congregation manage to get through a few days without me. I took a deep breath and gave additional thanks for the new friend I'd made. I knelt for another quiet moment, then said amen.

I eventually managed to stand up. I spent a few minutes stretching, getting the blood flowing. I moved to the patio door and looked outside. No one was visible below at the pool or on the distant beach. I slid open the door and let the morning heat cover my naked body. I leaned forward, extending my head through the door, glancing from side to side, then took a step, then another. Standing in the open, naked to the world, I reached my arms up high and let out another long stretch before turning and heading for the shower.

My shower was similar to the one the previous day, but I made better use of the handheld sprayer and its many useful settings. Guess I didn't need to pack a toy after all. I really should get one of those for home, then remembered that one was on my wedding registry. Nevertheless, my daily tally was up to four.

I finished up, dried off, got made up, applied sunscreen, and got dressed. I decided on the blue floral sun dress over my blue bikini, in case we decided to hit up the beach on the island. I put on sandals, grabbed my hat and sunglasses and purse, making sure that there was a bottle of sunscreen included in the purse, and headed out for breakfast.

I walked slowly past Leah's door. If she was still asleep or getting ready I didn't want to rush her, and if she was already gone I didn't want to stand there waiting for her. Plus, a small part of me worried that I'd embarrassed myself the night before, that I gave her the ick. I considered how miserable the next two days could be without her company.

On the way to the restaurant I stopped at one of the information terminals and scanned my wristband. I saw the time for the boat to Isla Mujares, located about 2 miles across the water. I confirmed departure time was 10 and the last boat back was at 6, with a few earlier options also available. Then I made a dinner reservation for 2 at 6:30 at the sushi restaurant. I hoped Leah would join me. I explored a little more and saw an option for cabana reservations. I saw an opening for the next day and reserved a poolside cabana. I logged off and followed the smell of bacon.

The breakfast restaurant was a large buffet with any food anyone could want. There were plenty of international options also, some of which I didn't recognize. I snagged a few sausage links, a waffle with strawberry topping, and coffee. I found a table that was easily seen from the door, then made quick work of the sausage. I read some news on my phone while picking at the waffle, then felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?"

I looked up at Leah, holding a plate of fruit and what looked like lox. With my foot I slid the empty chair away from the table and invited her to sit. "How are you feeling?" I asked, wondering if the tequila had been less kind to her.

"Surprisingly great," she answered, then leaned closer. "I came three times before I could fall asleep last night."

"Four times for me this morning. I really hope I didn't embarrass myself last night." I nervously scrunched my nose and looked to her for reassurance.

She plucked a piece of pineapple from her plate and popped it into her mouth. The wait while she chewed made me more nervous, like she was considering how to break the bad news. I cradled my coffee mug in both hands and used it to shield my mouth so she couldn't see how worried I was.

"Look, Mitzi, I like you, really, but there was something I saw last night that concerned me. I think it's best that we address it head on."

Oh, no! Was it that I got drunk? Should I not have kissed her at the bar like that? Was it my singing or the way I sloppily stripped? Were my tits too small for her? My nipples too pale? I wanted to crawl into a hole. I felt myself starting to sweat.

"CatDog? You honestly walked into a tattoo parlor, tugged down your pants and said 'I want CatDog right here'? I mean, really?"

I set down my mug and covered my redenning face in my hands. I peeked through my fingers and saw the huge smile spread across her own face as she plucked a strawberry from her plate.

She was, of course, referring to the tattoo on my hip, the Nickelodeon cartoon character CatDog. About three inches long and in full color, right where he would usually be covered by the waistband of my panties or bikini bottom.

"Out of everything... That's what you decided is most concerning about me?"

Still feigning disapproval, she continued "I'm sure you have some deep spiritual or emotional reason for wanting that particular cartoon character forever emblazoned on your body. It's not my place to judge..."

Now I was the one who couldn't stop smiling as I defended myself. "Yeah, well, maybe to me he represents the dual nature of man, or the need for people to learn to work together and get along with those who are different, or it could just be a pretty bad case of arrested development. Or maybe I just like him because he looks like a double-ended dildo. And no, I won't apologize. And, no, it isn't your place to judge."

"God, I want to kiss you." That shut me up. We gazed into each others eyes as she chewed on a slice of kiwi, oblivious to the looks from the other tables.

"So, will I be discovering any tattoos of yours later today?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "No tattoos. That's something we take very seriously. If you have a tattoo you can't even be buried in the good cemetary. We're a lot cooler about piercings though. I used to have a nose ring." She gestured toward her nose and I pictured how hot she'd be with a little diamond stud in her nose.

"You'd look amazing with a pierced belly button too."

Now it was her turn to blush. I scanned her body, at least what I could see while we sat across from each other. She was wearing a loose fitting dark red romper over what looked like a white string bikini. She had a matching red headband. I thought about standing on the beach with her, wrapping my arms around her and unbuttoning the romper, pulling it off her and kissing her neck... I couldn't stop staring at her tits, and eventually she was forced to comment.

"Hey, my eyes are up here." I looked up and caught her gaze. We had matching goofy smiles, neither of us wanting to look away.

We finished our breakfast and caught a ride to the pier down the beach a ways. During the ride I casually asked her, "do you like sushi?"

"Yes," she responded, "we should check out the sushi place for dinner tonight."

I squeezed her arm. "Already made reservations. I was hoping you'd join me." She leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder.

We arrived at the pier and boarded a boat with about 25 other people, then sped across the water to a pier on the north end of the island. During the ride, she stood at the front of the boat, her hair blowing back in the wind and the thin cloth of her romper being tightly spread across her body, showing every line and curve. I joined her and let the same wind push back on my dress. I took off my hat and let my hair blow. My arm was around her back, and when I let her go my hand slid down her back and cupped her ass, in full view of everyone. The romper left her thighs fully exposed, and I struggled to keep from caressing them whenever she was within reach.

At the north end of the island was a lagoon with a sandy beach edged by small rocky cliffs. The water was clear, and there were already a collection of swimmers and snorkelers actively splashing. Without a word, we dropped our things on an empty patch of sand and stripped down to our bikinis. She quickly tied up her hair in a top bun. We walked out into the water, pausing to adjust to the temperature, then eventually plunging in to chest level. It took just a moment to get used to the water, and soon we were hand in hand, bobbing in the waves and spotting the small fish swimming past. We ventured out deeper, the water covering our shoulders, but both of us careful to not wet our hair.

Soon I felt a hand on my bottom. I reached to her under the water, feeling the skin of her bare thigh. We both purred contentedly as our hands and fingers wandered. Then I was moving my leg between hers, wrapping around her and pulling her toward me.

"Did I ever tell you that I was the girls underwater leg wrestling champ at Camp Icaghowan?" I asked.

She smirked. "Seems to me that something as important as that really should have been brought up on a first date." Before I could respond I felt her foot part my thighs, then her own leg wrapped around me and spun me around. My back was now to her, and her right arm wrapped around me, just below my breasts. Her left hand snaked into the back of my bikini bottom, her fingers spreading across my ass and nearly touching me in a place that few have ever been.

I let out a gasp, wondering how far this would go. Could anyone see what was happening. I reached back toward her, trying desperately to slide my own finges into her bikini, into her... But she was pressed against me too firmly, and I couldn't find the right angle.

"Do you yield?" she whispered in my ear, mockingly, attempting to dethrone the champion.

"For you, I yield." She gave my cheek a quick kiss, then released me.

"At Camp Ramah, the girls leg wrestled in the cabin after lights out." She winked and I swooned.

We waded back to shore and found a place to sit in the sun while we dried. We looked out at the other swimmers and sunbathers, and watched birds dive in the water for fish. After a while we got dressed and found a place to wash the sand off our feet before putting our sandals back on. We gathered up our things and walked inland.

The island was a mix of hotels and restaurants and shopping, high end items and local merchants selling the usual assortment of Cancun-labeled tshirts and accessories. We found a local restaurant with air conditioning and enjoyed a leisurely lunch. Then wandered through some shops filled with floral dresses and swimwear and some revealing knit beachwear.

One dress shop had a large assortment of novelty panties. One immediately caught my eye; a black thong on the front of which was printed "my eyes are up here." When Leah wasn't looking, I slipped a few dollars to the woman working behind the counter and hid them in my purse.

Leah was inspecting a rack of sundresses. She held up one that was a full length halter style, open back, gray and adorned with a bold, red floral design. I thought it would look great on her. In her other hand was a much shorter, strapless, burnt orange dress. As I approached she held it up to me and studied me. "How do you feel about this color?" she asked.

I took the dress from her and found a full length mirror. I held it in front of me and considered it while she stood behind me and took in the same view from over my shoulder. It was a bold orange color, but dark, not like sherbet, with a lacey overlay, giving it some texture, form fitting at top and flaring out a bit at the bottom, and was held up only by what God gave me. It wasn't my usual style, but I kinda liked it. "Do you think I can pull off strapless?" I asked, citing the obvious lack of bosom on which to hang a dress like this.

"Try it on," she offered, motioning to a nearby dressing room.

The dressing room was barely more than four beach towels hanging from the ceiling, but what the hell, I was on vacation.

I took off my dress and bikini top, then slipped into the dress. It was a little looser than I expected, but I loved the feel of the material, and the color actually looked good with my blonde hair and blue eyes. I thought maybe a size smaller would work better, so without changing I headed back to the rack and found the same dress in a smaller size, not seeing Leah. I went back to the dressing room and switched. The smaller one definitely fit my top better and required less tugging, but was also shorter on bottom. I moved back to the mirror, and when I spun or squatted at all my blue bikini bottom was visible.

Leah then appeared behind me. "I like it," she said.

"So do I, but it's a little short."

"That's why I like it," she cooed.

I decided to buy it. It might not be Meredith's style, but Mitzi loved it. I changed back into my blue dress and brought the larger of the two orange dresses back to the rack. I noticed some panties in the same burnt orange, low rise hipster style, full coverage in the seat, and snatched a pair to wear under the dress. I grabbed another pair of the same in navy blue, the complementary color. I brought them all to the counter to be paid for. This purchase earned me a paper bag with a handle to carry it home. I added the previously purchased panties to the bag without Leah seeing. I noticed that she was carrying the same bag, having likely purchased the gray dress she was studying earlier.

We wandered through more shops, rubbing elbows with more tourists from nearby resorts. Soon we came across a band playing in the street, a sort of modern, pop mariachi. We stood in the crowd and watched and listened, finding it difficult to hold our bodies still. Some good looking local guys eyed us and tried to get us to dance with them. We politely swayed with them from a small distance, keeping grip on our bags and not letting them grind against us. When that became too much, we moved on to a bar where we settled at a table on the sidewalk, under an umbrella. We sipped cocktails and snacked on ceviche and tortilla chips and watched the people go by.

As the afternoon progressed, we wandered through more shops selling typical tourist fare. I eventually forced myself to buy a shell necklace, the type gobbled up by spring breakers. I needed at least one souvenir that didn't show my ass. On a shelf of locally made stoneware, Leah found a smooth, polished obelisk, about 11 inches tall. She held it up between us and asked "for later?" We both giggled, then I let my mind wander, imagined myself face down, ass up, her behind me, one hand gripping my hair, sliding a toy into me, fucking me, pulling it out of me and licking it... I couldn't wait to get back to my room.

We took an earlier boat back to the mainland, and found another ride back to our resort, arriving just before 5PM. That gave us an hour and a half before dinner to rest and freshen up.

We stood outside her door. "We should dress up tonight, you know, like a date," she proposed.

"That could be fun. I did pack a LBD."

"Perfect. Pick me up here at 6:15."

Without pausing to check if anyone else was in the hall, we both leaned in and kissed. First just a peck on the lips, then softer, wetter, more romantic. We broke the kiss and stared at each other for a beat. Then she waived her wrist over the sensor and entered her room. I sighed and walked two doors down to my own room.

As soon as the door closed behind me I got undressed and hung up my bikini. I took out the orange dress and orange panties and tried them on again. Then switched to the navy blue panties. Was it weird that I liked the blue better, even though they were more noticable? Maybe because they stood out. Checking myself out in the mirror, I slipped on a pair of heels and practiced moving in them, my ass never remaining hidden for long. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and my straw fedora to complete the look and checked myself out again. I looked like a Miami club girl, or at least what I thought one might look like. I imagined being on a dance floor, loud music thumping, sweating, bodies against me, hands on me, closing my eyes and giving myself to the crowd...

In an instant I was naked again and face down on the couch, the sun covering me as I humped my hand. I raised my ass up, directly into the light, and slid two fingers into my pussy, amazed by how wet it was. I could already feel beads of moisture rolling down my thighs. I raised one knee up to the top of the couch, to more widely expose myself, thrusted my fingers in and out, pushed my whole body back onto my hand, over and over.. soon I was moaning into the pillow.

I imagined Leah doing the same, on her own couch on her back, the sun covering her body, warming her round, firm breasts as she pulled one to her mouth, her tongue snaking out and flicking at her nipple. I imagined our eyes locking in on each other, whispering "fuck me Leah... fuck me Mitzi..." Our orgasms arriving together, moaning into each other's mouths, collapsing together, hungrily kissing and licking each other...

Fuck... I crawled to the shower. I scrubbed away the accumulation of suscreen and salt water and sweat and grime. I again used the handheld shower sprayer to ensure my nether region was sparkling. Slipping into the robe, I took my time to ensure that my hair and face were up to first date standards. Then I slipped into the little black dress I'd packed, just in case. This was my favorite dress, good for any season, but not appropriate for any church-related occasion. Sleeveless, high in the front (not that I had any cleavage to show off anyway) but backless, tying up at the back of my neck. So no bra would be worn tonight. I'd usually wear it with black nylons, preferrably thigh high stockings, but didn't pack any of those. I completed it with black high heels.

I took out a tiny pair of black mesh panties that, after I waxed, really left nothing hidden. I pulled them up over my thighs and fantasized about Leah helping me out of them later. I studied myself in the mirror, and when the time came, I picked up the paper bag with the novelty panties purchased earlier and headed to Leah's door.

I knocked and she opened right away, letting me in past her. After the door closed, I turned and checked her out. She was wearing the gray dress she'd bought earlier. It fit her long, lean body perfectly, and the color looked fantastic on her. She wore red heels and matching red lipstick. Her hair was free and had a perfect wild, frizzy, sexy quality to it. She spun and showed off her own bare back. So neither of us were wearing bras on our date...

"If it's cold in the restaurant we'll definitely alert everyone to it," I noted.

"I hope it isn't too cold. I'm not wearing panties."

I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. I thought about asking her to prove it. But instead I added "Funny you should mention that. I bought you a little present earlier today when you were't looking." I held the bag open for her and she reached in. She withdrew the panties and spread them out to read the message.

She let out a sexy laugh and noted "very appropriate, in an inappropriate way." Then she bent down and lifted one foot through, then the other, and raised them up her long, smooth legs as I could only watch. She made sure they were in place, then smoothed out her dress. "Maybe you can help me take those off later?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be. "I got you a little something too, but I'm going to give it to you later." Then she carefully kissed my lips, doing her best to not ruin either of our lipstick.

We made our way to the restaurant and were quickly seated. It was a bit chilly there, so we ordered a bottle of warm saki to share. Our waitress, a voluptuous local woman wearing a white blouse and black pants was similarly struggling with the cold, making me wonder if it was all intentional and if we were seated in the hard nipple section of the restaurant.

We shared a few sushi rolls and some fried rice, careful to avoid anything that wasn't kosher. And we made small talk about the island and what we'd seen that day. I told her my thoughts about the orange dress and she bet me that by the end of the summer I'd be wearing it to the grocery store without a second thought. Hmm, that might be a good way to meet men. I pictured myself in the orange dress and blue panties and heels, pushing a shopping cart down an aisle at Woodman's, followed by a long line of horny middle aged guys who'd cheer whenever I reached for a lower shelf. I told her that I'd reserved a pool side cabana for the next day and that she was welcome to join me, if she didn't mind lounging in the shade. She made a show of considering the invitation before asking if we could close the curtains for maximum privacy.

Neither of us drank anything aside from the saki and some water, perhaps hoping to avoid the roadblock from the night before. And when the waitress asked us about dessert, we both eagerly declined. It was as if there was somewhere else we both really wanted to be.

We held hands as we left the restaurant. Seeing that the sun had already set and that the beach and pool area were both empty and dark, we decided to take a walk along the beach, removing and carrying our heels. We moved closer to the water, away from the hotel, and stood in the dark, listening to the waves, still holding hands.

"There's something I should tell you," Leah said. For the first time since meeting her I detected sincere hesitation in her voice. Before I could say anything, she continued. "I've never actually made love to another woman before. I mean, I've kissed, and touched, and experimented with, and fucked... I had a threesome once with another couple, but we were more focused on him than on each other. I would classify tonight as my first real, intentional, romantic date with a woman; a woman who I couldn't stop thinking about and who I couldn't keep my hands off of and who I really, really wanted to like me." She squeezed my hand tighter.

I was surprised. She seemed so confident, so immodest, I guess I just assumed that this was normal for her, that she sensed in me someone she could keep herself amused with for a few days, and that I was the willing but maybe a little naive participant who was in it for the adventure. Could I have gotten it backwards? I was the one who approached her at the pool, choosing the chair next to her, ogling her. I tried to think back; she touched my arm first, breaking the touch barrier, but I kissed her first. I stripped for her and asked her to tuck me in, but she was the one who touched my naked body. It seemed to me that we were about equally responsible for the escalating flirtation.

Before I could respond, she continued. "I just wanted to get that on record, you know, so that there isn't any confusion. If the rest of the night, the rest of the week, goes how I think it might go, how I'd really like it to go, then that would make me really happy. But I also just want you to know that I hope that flying out of Cancun isn't the end of... whatever this is..."

I let go of her hand and moved my arm around her back. I moved closer to her and rested my head against her shoulder, both of us still facing the waves. "I'm normally not like this either. This flirtatious, or this publicly affectionate, or publicly inappropriate. I guess that comes with being a pastor in a not so big city. I never know who might see me or judge me. When I got a bikini wax last week, it was a woman from my church who did it. I was expecting the appointment to be with an old asian woman who didn't speak English, like usual, but, nope, it was Karen who's in pew 7 every Sunday.

"Anyway, I mention that because coming here I was really looking for adventure, for something different from my usual life, and for me to be different from how I usually am. Yes, I've experimented with women too, kissing and flirting and touching, like you said. But not like this..."

I took a deep breath and continued. "I mentioned yesterday that my fiancee dumped me after a disagreement. Can I tell you about it?"

"Yes, please, but only if you want to" she answered in a quiet voice.

"Sex with him was good. Not great, but good. I was starting to get nervous about whether I'd get bored with him, or if I wasn't doing it for him and he'd get bored with me. I wanted us to have better sex, so I tried to find ways to spice things up.

"So one night we were in bed, and I was on top of him, riding him, and he was just kinda quietly laying there, moving a little, hands on my hips, making a little noise, as per usual. So as I'm fucking him, I start telling him that I'd do anything to please him, like anything sexually that he'd want, trying to get him to open up to me. I was saying that I'd dress up for him, be his naughty nurse or naughty school girl or french maid or whatever. I said that I'd roleplay as a stripper or a hooker who he could just use however he wanted. I told him he could pull my hair while he fucked my mouth.

"I just kept going, getting kinkier and darker. I told him he could tie me up and blindfold me and have his way with me, or that I could tie him up if he wanted that. I told him he could drive me deep into the woods and bend me over the hood of his car and rip my panties off and stuff them in my mouth and fuck me. Just whatever filthy things occurred to me. And as I was talking I was really getting into it, getting closer to cumming. And then I said that if he wanted to I'd share him with another woman, and if he wanted he could fuck her while she ate me out, and that if he wanted to he could cum inside her and make me lick her clean. And then I climaxed, and it was like the biggest orgasm I'd ever had, with him or anyone. I think I squirted even, but I'm not sure, because I was so out of it at that point.

"So not thinking anything is wrong, I collapse next to him, panting, ready to pass out. Then he just gets up and quietly starts getting dressed. That's when I realize that something is wrong, that I've upset him, because he was planning on spending the night, and he never just gets up like that after... So I ask him what he's doing. And he lays into me, calls me immoral, calls me a slut, a sinner, accuses me of trying to corrupt him. He said he couldn't be with a 'filthy dyke.' Says I shouldn't be allowed to be a pastor, that I could never be a good mother with a mind like that. That he never would have asked me to marry him if he knew I was a pervert.

"And, like I said, two days later, he showed up at my place with a box of a few things I'd left at his place, asked me for the engagement ring back, and that was it. No discussion about what was said. No attempt at understanding. He didn't even bother collecting his stuff from my place. Probably thought it was tainted. He never even asked about getting back any of the money he'd put into wedding deposits either. The pool coverup I was wearing yesterday, the linen shirt; that was supposed to be a gift for him. I bought him a nice linen shirt and suit to wear on our tropical honeymoon.

"I was too embarrassed to tell even my best friends about why he ended it. I spent the next few months terrified that he was telling stories about me to my friends or family or other people around town, people at my church. Every time my phone rang I thought, well, this is it, my life is over. I thought I'd never be able to open mysef up to anyone again, sexually or emotionally, unless they were a stranger who didn't know my last name and I was at least a few thousand miles away from home..."

There was more quiet. Just the two of us, standing there in the dark, in the sand, listening to the waves. I wondered how much closer we could get before the waves splashed over our feet, wondered when someone would yell at us to get off the beach.

"Meredith," she said quietly, then more forcefully, "fuck that guy! What a colossal asshole. I am, like, physically angry listening to that. I want to punch him in his fucking face. No, puching isn't enough, I want to use my krav maga on that little bitch. I want..."

I interrupted her with my lips on hers. I dropped my shoes and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She did the same, and we kissed in the dark, listening to the waves.

I broke the kiss and rested my face against her chest. I let my arms slide down her bare back, coming to a stop just above her ass. She did the same, her long arms settling just below my ass, her fingers locking together and holding me up.

After another moment of quiet thought, I lowered my voice and, in an accent that should get me cancelled, said "Hey you two, beach is closed, get back to the hotel."

She chuckled and we let each other go. We picked up our shoes and went back inside.

We stopped at her door and I wordlessly waited as she unlocked it, held it open for me, then locked it behind us. We both dropped our shoes and stood close to each other.

"My last name is Green," she said, not breaking eye contact.

"Mine is Gomes,"

"We should probably start slow."

"Probably."

Our open mouths were on each other, our hands wrapped around each other. I made quick work of the dress tie behind her neck, and soon her dress was on the floor and kicked to the side. She had just as quickly unzipped my dress, and with a little more of a struggle it too was tossed aside. I grabbed her ass and pulled her close to me, wanting to feel as much of her skin against mine as was possible. We gasped and groped at each other and tumbled toward the bed.

When we got to the bed, her back was to it, so with just the slightest nudge from me she fell back and was seated in front of me. This put her mouth level with my breasts. I stepped between her legs and cradled her head as her lips moved over my breasts, her tongue flicking at one nipple, then the other, sucking each and leaving it soaked in her spit as she moved to the other, the air conditioning rapidly cooling the skin before her wet mouth warmed it again.

While she did that, her hands worked my panties down my legs. I stepped out of them and parted my legs while her hands slid back up my thighs. I thought about her brief touch from the previous night, how that was the first touch from someone other than my own hand or Karen the waxer since... no, I banished him from my thoughts. Banished Karen too. I spread my legs further as her finger slid into me. Another finger gently massaged my clitoris, and her mouth continued to work my nipples. Going slow was definitely no longer an option.

"Oh God... oh God... yes... " My legs shook. She slid a second finger into me, started thrusting more forcefully, eager to make me cum. I raised my left foot and set it next to her on the bed, opening myself further. Her fingers touched every sensitive place at once, inside and out. No longer cradling her head, I was using it for support, not wanting to fall over and break the connection.

And then I climaxed. Two days of pent up lust. No... months worth... years worth exploding at once. I couldn't recognize the noises I was making, and my vision started to darken. Individual fingers felt like whole hands, lips felt like large, wet sucking mouths, and the intense pleasure instead of being centered between my legs, encompassed my whole body. My moaning turned to uncontrollable joyous laughter, which turned into a struggle for air. I slid down onto my knees, my hands on her knees to hold me up. She held my face in her hands and together we took deep breaths. When I was able, I looked into her eyes, we smiled, and I uttered "wow."

She let out a satisfied laugh and fell back onto the bed, raising her arms above her head and wiggling in glee while she stared at the ceiling. "Slow enough?"

"Just right." Now it was my turn. Her legs were parted before me, and I slid my hands up her thighs, gripping the cheap novelty panties I'd gifted her. With one swift pull I'd ripped them in two places and tossed them to the side.

"Holy fuck!" she exclaimed. "You owe me some panties."

Before she'd even finished the statement my mouth was on her. Her sweet, savory taste coated my tongue and lips. I wanted to go in deeper, fill her and be surrounded by her warmth. Her moaning told me that she liked what I was doing, and I glanced up to see that she was still looking toward the ceiling, her fingers pinching her stiff nipples while my tongue worked inside her.

I pulled back a bit, wanting to make this last, make it better. My tongue slid around her lips, exploring each smooth pink fold, always coming back to her most sensitive place. While I did that, my fingers explored her, slipping in and out, spreading her wetness, angling to the spot that only a woman can find. Soon her pelvis was rocking, grinding against my mouth. My lips wrapped around her swollen clitoris and gently suckled it while two fingers worked in and out, gradually increasing in speed and force.

"Oh, fuck, I like that," she murmered quietly, followed by her body sharply jerking off the bed. She settled back and I looked up again, my mouth not moving from her. She was violently rubbing her nipples now, strumming them like guitar strings, gasping at each strike. I watched her bring one hand to her mouth, spit into it, then spread her saliva over the nipple, leaving strands of spit from the nipple to her fingers with each motion.

The way she touched herself, uninhibited and raw, excited me futher, and, keeping one hand to pleasure her, I let my other hand move between my own legs. I relished how wet I was, and loudly, sloppily fucked myself with two fingers while I did the same to her.

I pulled my lips from her just long enough to say "You taste so good Leah, so fucking good... Please cum for me..." When I took her clit back between my lips she let out a gasp and her body tightened again.

"Yes, God yes, don't stop, your tongue is so good, fuck me, don't stop, fuck me, eeeeaaaaggghhhh!"

She groaned like an animal, but I knew she wasn't there yet. I lifted her right leg over my shoulder, then her left. The noises she made told me that the new angle was even better, and the sensation of her feet clawing at my back was like nothing I'd felt before. Her flexibility was proving to be a real asset.

Taking another chance and exploring this new angle, I slid my fingers out of her and let my tongue wander down, along her lips, slipping it into her for just a bit, then continuing lower, finding an area of soft, sensitive, neglected skin, then moving past that to a new place to explore. I gathered up a mouthful of saliva and let my tongue spread it into her. She gasped and groaned, and her back arched up. She was lifted by her feet on my back, and as she lifted up, her thighs squeezed against the sides of my head. I think she liked this. I pushed my tonge in deeper and managed to slip a finger back into her pussy.

"Holy fuck! Yes! Don't st...."

She climaxed. Every muscle convulsed in rhythm, squeezing my tongue and finger and face. She gasped for air, and I realized that I couldn't breathe either. I held out for as long as I could, wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible, before pulling away and filling my lungs. Even then I wanted to keep touching her, wanted to make her climax again and again. Each touch brought another gasp, another convulsion.

Soon she went limp, arms to her side. I stayed on my knees, rested my cheek against her stomach. I brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from my face, only to discover that it wasn't sweat. I licked my fingers proudly, then worried if we'd still be able to sleep in the bed tonight after we were done with each other.

We stayed like that for a while, quietly regaining control of our breathing, and soon the room was quiet. "Will you lay with me?" she asked.

I said a quiet "amen" then half stood and slid into bed with her. She turned her body so that she was no longer perpendicular to the bed. I crawled over the wet spot and lay on my back.

"Like this," she said, half shoving me onto my side, facing away from her. Then her body wrapped around my back, more thoroughly spooning me than anyone had before, her hand on my hip sliding over CatDog like she was trying to pet him. I couldn't remember ever feeling so comforted and so wanted. She kissed my neck a few times before settling with her lips just brushing against my shoulder. "That was... fantastic..." she muttered

"I loved that. Really, really, loved it," I added. After a moment of reflection, I added, "it feels so good to please someone like that." She gave me a squeeze, and my hand found her hand on my hip. I squeezed her hand and moved it onto my stomach, pressing it against me.

"When was the last time you did... that...?"

"Not since college, and it wasn't like that. Not even close."

"I've never had anyone lick me like that. I mean, lick me there... where you licked me. That was kind of different. Amazing, but different."

"I've never licked anyone there before. Not sure what made me do that. But I think we both liked it."

"We did." She kissed my neck again.

Hesitently, she asked, "Those things you told me about on the beach, the things you told him you'd do for him, to please him, those weren't just things you'd do for him, were they? I mean, you wanted to do all of those things too, right?"

I let go of her hand and reached my hand back, finding her thigh. I slid my hand along her smooth skin, letting it settle just above her knee. "All of those things... and so many others."

There was another moment of quiet, then "Is it ok that I call you Mitzi?"

"Yes. I love it."

"Are you going to ask other friends to start calling you Mitzi?"

I chuckled. I hadn't thought about that. I imagined blowing up some of the group text chains I'm on when I get back from Mexico with 'Cancun was great. From now on call me Pastor Mitzi. See you Sunday!' "No, I think I'll save that just for you."

Another moment of quiet, then "Wanna take a bath with me?"

"Hell yes!" I excitedly answered.

She giggled and, energized, we both jumped out of bed and headed for the soaking tub right around the corner.

I leaned back against the wall and watched her as she closed the drain in the bottom of the tub, then turned on the water, testing it with her hand until she found just the right temperature. I was mesmerized by the smoothness of every motion, how every long, luscious limb glided and turned even the most mundane task into a dance. She caught me ogling her and smiled, demurely looking away.

Once satisfied with the temperature, she moved to the counter by the sink and picked up a bottle of bath oil. She drizzled what she determined to be an appropriate amount into the tub, then put the bottle back. I picked up the scent of lavender and vanilla, calming scents that would carry us to a night of restful sleep.

It took some time for the large tub to fill, so she continued to busy herself, taking two plush robes from the closet and hanging them on a nearby hook. She then moved to the panel of light switches and started flipping them on and off as if performing an experiment. Soon she had what she wanted; all the lights in the bedroom and bathroom were off, except for a single bulb directly above the tub, which was dimmed, creating the perfect ambiance.

She turned off the water and waved for me to slide in first. I did, and, as expected, it was perfect, heavenly. I leaned my head back and raised my arms to the top of the tub, keeping myself from completely sliding under. She tied up her hair, then stepped in, facing away from me and purposely wiggling her ass in front of my face. I gave her a playful swat. She lowered herself in, laying back against me, between my spread legs, and resting her head against my chest. I realized why she wanted me to go in first; there was no way her breasts would give me room to lay the same way.

I wrapped my arms around her under her breasts, which bobbed in and out of the water with each breath. Her hands rubbed my legs under the water while my hands rubbed her stomach and arms. But I couldn't resist, and soon I was massaging her breasts, taking advantage of the slight slippery sheen that the bath oil gave to the water.

"Oh my.." she quietly whispered, which echoed through the otherwise empty room. I took that as approval and continued massaging her breasts, gently but firmly, sporadically giving her nipples a pinch.

Through the clear water I watched as one of her hands left my leg and slid between her own. I purred, watching her fingers disappear and feeling her push back against me. "Naughty, naughty," I whispered in her ear, then took her earlobe between my lips.

We continued like that for a while, me watching her and massaging her breasts as the sensation built. I could feel her getting closer, so I whispered more encouragement "Don't stop, please."

She let out a gasp and asked loudly "Do you like to watch?"

"Mmmm, yes, I love to watch you."

Her other hand moved between her legs, meeting the first. "Yes, me too, I love to watch..."

That admission pushed her past the tipping point, and her body thrashed in the water as she climaxed again. I held on to her breasts as she shook, then loosened my grip and slid my hands down her stomach as the orgasm subsided. When her breathing was near normal, I whispered in her ear "good girl."

She silently lay back against me again, eyes closed, her hands back on my legs. We soaked like that for a while, my eyes also closing, both of us risking drifting off to sleep.

I was startled back to reality by a loud splash. I opened my eyes and Leah was raising up, turning, kneeling between my legs and leaning over me, her upper half out of the water and her face coming to mine. She kissed me, then fully waking up, I kissed her back. Her eyes were wide open, big and round and brown. "Did you like the show?" she asked.

I nodded.

"So when do I get my show?"

"Do you mean, like, a song?" I played dumb.

She chuckled and slowly shook her head.

"Hmmm..." I tried to think, not realizing that I was going to be put on the spot. I glanced past her and saw the shower. Inspiration. "You'll have to let me get up."

She moved back, still kneeling, to the opposite end of the tub. I stood up, stepped out of the tub, and tiptoed to the shower, leaving a wet trail in my wake. I made a mental note of that and silently prayed that no one slipped on the wet tile later.

Next to the glass shower door was another light switch. I flipped it and a single light inside the shower turned on, as I'd hoped. I walked in and closed the door behind me, then turned on the water and found the right temperature. Leah had taken my place in the tub and had turned on the spigot to add more hot water in my absence. She sat up, arms on the outer edge of the tub holding her up, her tits above the water line and pointed right me, in tandem with her eyes.

I stood beneath the overhead shower and looked up, letting the water wash my hair back and pour down my body. I found Leah's bodywash and sponge and lathered it up. I stepped out of the stream of water, nearly pressing myself against the glass door, as I spread the soap all over my chest and stomach, letting the bubbles slide down my thighs. I spread my legs and suggestively scrubbed there as well, then raised the sponge up and squeezed it, letting more soap pour over my tits.

I turned my back to the door, pressed my ass against it, then spread more soap across my back, letting it slide down over and between my cheeks. I wiggled and danced for her, imagining I was in an 80's rock video. I spread my legs and bent over, giving her a full view.

Before the glass door could fully steam up, I started my finale. I dropped the sponge and grabbed the handheld sprayer, chose my setting, and then moved back in front of the door. I started facing her and sprayed away the remaining bubbles from my front.

I could see her watching me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I saw that one of her hands was back under the water, and that she had turned off her own spigot. She lay back and watched me, hopefully enjoying my performance as much as I'd enjoyed hers.

I moved my legs apart further and pressed one hand against the glass door, my eyes locked on hers. With the other hand I moved the sprayer down between my legs, directing the jet of water up and into me. As soon as I found the right spot I let out a loud moan, and my gaze was involuntarily redirected to the ceiling of the shower. I composed myself and looked back to her, moving closer to the door in the process, pressing my body against it to ensure that she could see.

Then I took my hand off the glass and slid it down to join the sprayer. I wasn't sure if she could clearly see, but at the same time, the angle of the sprayer was adjusted, so that it was now centered behind me, to a different smooth place that was often neglected. My fingers took over the job of pleasuring the front while the jet of water pleasured the back. I closed my eyes and leaned against the door, giving in to the twin sensations.

When I opened my eyes, Leah was out of the tub, pressed against the glass on the other side, watching my fingers working, her own fingers trying to match. When I saw her I let out a half laugh, half squeal. Then I stepped back and motioned for her to come in and join me.

She stepped in and closed the door behind her, stepped through the falling water, and took the sprayer from my hand. She guided me to the long bench on the other side and quietly ordered "get on the bench." I sat, legs spread, looking up at her, ready. "Not like that. Kneel." She turned me and I realized what she wanted. I spun and raised my legs, kneeling on the bench, then lowering my head and pointing it away from her.

My ass was pointing up, toward her, and I looked back over my shoulder as her face disappeared behind me. I then felt her tongue on me, sliding over my lips, down to my clitoris, then up, up higher. I gasped and grabbed the edge of the bench. Then lifted my leg over the back of the bench, giving myself to her. I thought about how what I had done to her earlier apparently inspired her, and now she was doing the same to me, for me.

I gasped and moaned as her slippery, strong tongue worked in and around my ass hole. I was shocked by how deep it seemed to penetrate. Her hands held me and squeezed each cheek, not allowing me to move closer or away. My moaning grew louder, more desparate. I couldn't manage words, just sounds. I was starting to get dizzy, starting to overheat from the steam. "Holy fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this," I heard her say just before her tongue poked into me again. One hand released my ass and I felt two long fingers filling me, taking my breath away. I squeezed them and groaned as they rapidly slipped in and out in time with her tongue.

More groans, more noises, then I felt her start to withdraw. Her hands released me and I felt her sitting on the bench. I turned and sat up next to her, then reached across her and turned off the water so that we could both cool down.

When we'd caught our breath and gotten relief from the heat, I asked "Did I inspire that?"

"I think you corrupted me." She chuckled.

I considered that, then added, "No complaints."

She stood and pulled me up, pushing the shower door open and letting in more cool air. She tossed me one of the robes and put one on herself. We stepped out of the shower and both started pawing at each other, helping to dry each other off under the robes.

"You know, you're welcome to spend the night," she said, as though it were in doubt.

"You mean like a sleepover?" I asked, with as much girlish glee as I could muster.

"Oh, damn, I just realized that I didn't pack any pajamas."

"I didn't either."

She playfully patted my ass as she walked past me, to the sink. She dried her hair and brushed her teeth. I stood at the other sink and likewise dried my hair with a towel. Not having my toothbrush handy, I settled for some borrowed mouthwash.

Soon the lights were out and we were naked in her bed, under the blankets, our bodies close and sharing warmth. Both of us struggling to keep our eyes open.

"Do you snore?" she asked.

"I don't think so. Do you?"

"Yes, loudly." She laughed, then snorted, which made me laugh too.

"I'd think that we're both pretty satisfied at this point..."

She offered a pronounced "mmm hmmm" in agreement.

"But if you should have a naughty dream during the night that makes you wake up feeling inspired, well, I won't complain in the morning."

"Ditto."

"Sleep well." We exchanged one more quiet kiss, then drifted off to sleep.

Wednesday

The first time I woke up, I was laying on my back, legs slightly parted, Leah lying next to me and her right hand between my legs. She wasn't penetrating me, wasn't even moving or rubbing me. Just holding me. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if she was awake and aware of what she was doing.

Without moving her hand, I turned just enough to reach across her, my right arm moving across her body just below her breasts, my hand settling on her left arm. I gently followed it down and discovered that her left hand was between her own legs, also not penetrating, just holding. I rested my hand on top of hers and closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep then, because I don't recall anything happening after that.

The second time I woke up, she was curled up on her side, her back to me. I was on my side facing her, spooning her, and her hair was tickling my nose. I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling, listening to her breathing. The room was still dark, no sign of any rising sun. There wasn't a clock that I could see, and my phone was near the door, near my shoes and dress. I had no idea where my panties ended up.

I lay there for a while, finding myself surprisingly alert. I briefly touched myself, wondering if I could get the day off to a good start, but I think I was still satiated from the night before, as there was little response to my self probing. I didn't want to deprive Leah of a good night's sleep, so, reluctantly, I slipped out of bed.

I tiptoed around the bed, not hearing her stir or react at all. I stepped on what I believed to be my panties, and carried them with me to where I had last seen my dress. I slipped it on, then picked up my shoes and phone nearby. I decided it would be a good idea to leave something for Leah so that she knew I was sneaking out on good terms, so I tiptoed back to the bed and dropped my panties on my pillow. I decided I'd slip a note under her door after I went back to my room. I then opened her door as quietly as I could and proceeded on my walk of shame.

I snuck into my own room as quietly as I could, not encountering anyone on the way. My phone told me it was almost 4:30. The sun rise was still an hour away.

I hung up the dress and was naked once more. I used the bathroom, washed up and brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face and stared at my goofy grin in the mirror. Last night was really fun, really amazing. I thought about the tub, the shower, the beach. I moved to the patio door and looked out to the water. There was just the faintest of glows on the horizion. I found some paper and a pen on the desk, then sat at the table and thought about what to write. I settled on "You're even sexy when you're asleep. Didn't want to wake you. Going for a walk, then a bite to eat, then poolside cabana. Hope to see you later. xoxo"

I folded the note, then got dressed. Red cotton panties, tan linen shorts, a white tank top, white bra, socks and walking shoes. I put in my airpods and found a podcast to listen to, something not about murder, then added a hat to hide my just-got-fucked hair. I quietly exited my room and slipped the note under Leah's door, then proceeded down the hall and out of the hotel.

I walked along the beach a ways, listening to the waves over the sound of two women in my ears offering dating advise. No one else was out yet, not even the resort workers. South of the resort was another undeveloped patch of jungle between my resort and the next resort over. There was a paved walking path winding through, but otherwise it was packed with local trees and flowers and some wildlife. I found the start of the path and entered, almost immediately scaring an iguana who scampered across the path in front of me. I encountered more ignuanas and some smaller lizards I assumed were geckos or salamanders. Occasionally I'd hear a rustle in the trees and look to see a bird taking flight or another iguana staring at me. The sky above grew lighter, and I came across colorful flowers and some fruit trees whose products I didn't quite recognize. I wondered if any of them made their way to the breakfast buffet.

I came across a patch of wild flowers near an opening, so that the beach and waves and rising sun were visible in the background. I took my phone out of my pocket and took some pictures. I turned off the podcast at that point and stood still, listened. No sounds other than the wind and waves. No movement. I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes. My thoughts immediately went back to Leah, imagining that I was still in bed next to her, our bodies pressed together, our lips. I felt a pulse between my legs, then imagined her on top of me, my legs wrapped around her, her grinding against me. I put my hand in my pocket and reached a finger as far as I could, rubbing myself through the pocket and through my panties. I was really starting to regret getting out of bed.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Still alone. I reversed course and headed back to the hotel.

By the time I returned, the sun was completely over the horizon and resort workers were actively laying out chairs on the beach and by the pool. I made eye contact with a few, exchanged nods and smiles. One worker was writing guest names on the chalk boards attached to the reserved cabanas, and I noticed one cabana that had "Gomez" written on it. I suspected that was mine.

I returned to my room, still not encountering any other guests, and, as per usual, started to disrobe upon entry. Wearing just my bra and panties, I moved to the patio door and looked outside, then opened the door and stepped out. The patio wasn't completely private; it was partially visible from some angles and from some of the other rooms. But after some study I decided that, if I was laying flat in the lounge chair on the far side of my balcony, I would be mostly under the sun and mostly invisible to the rest of the world (excluding planes, drones, spy satellites, omnipotent deities, etc.)

I positioned the chair, laid down, and looked around to every possible angle, verifying my theory. Then I took off my bra. I felt the sun on my bare breasts and got a little thrill. I knew I couldn't stay like this for long, as I really didn't want them to get burned. But I also knew I'd forever regret it if I didn't do the next thing. I raised my legs and pulled off my panties. I was now fully nude, fully bathed in the early morning sun. I couldn't wait to tell Leah.

Just one more daring thought entered my mind. I parted my legs slightly, then a little more. I looked around one more time and listed for the sounds of any of my neighbors getting the same idea. All was still quiet. I moved my hand between my legs and let a fingertip slide into me. Oh my, I had gotten so wet. I thought about Leah, naked in the chair next to me, watching me, telling me what to do. I felt another pulse. I added a second finger. I decided I really needed to finish what I started.

Knowing I needed to be fast, I let my mind go to a dark place. Hands holding me in the chair, many hands, mouths on both sides of me, whispering encouragement in both ears, the sweet voice telling me what a good girl I was, the harsh voice demeaning me, calling me a filthy slut, above me a warm, muscular, unfamiliar figure, entering me, filling me, no resistance, going deeper than I had experienced before, a hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming, thrusting, groaning, sweating, hands on me, mouths on me, an explosion of wetness, covering me, covering all of us, tongues and fingers touching me, my mouth being filled, struggling to breathe... I bit down on my forearm to keep from waking the rest of the hotel as I climaxed, feeling myself losing control and coating the chair with moisture. I let my hand linger longer than usual, held my breath as a second wave hit, then pulled away when my lungs couldn't take any more strain. I hurriedly gathered my things and ran back into the room, not stopping until I was in the shower.

I took my time washing my hair and body, leaving the handheld sprayer in its holster. And when I was done I toweled myself dry and went through the routine of hair, makeup, sunscreen. It was my last full day at the resort, which meant that it was now or never for the itsy bitsy bikini I'd brought. I put on the bottoms and made sure the strings were tied tightly. My CatDog tattoo was not hidden at all; I wondered if anyone else would notice it. I did the same for the top, tying it as tightly as I could behind my neck. I checked myself out in the mirror, turned, checked from different angles, and gave my approval. It kinda looked like I was getting a little color too. Not tan, but maybe not as pale as usual.

As per the new routine, I added the cover-up, hat and sunglasses, then slipped into the sandals. I had my hand on the doorknob when a thought occurred to me. I went back into the bedroom and found the bed undisturbed from when the housekeeper had made it the previous afternoon. There was no way they'd think I'd be able to recreate their tight corners. I grabbed the sheet and pulled it away, messed the bed to give it a slept in look. I considered it, then moved the blankets around more, felt silly for worrying about whether the housekeeping staff would judge me, then adjusted the pillows, punching one with my fist to give it a head shaped indentation.

Then I knelt and clasped my hands. I gave thanks for the wonderful weather, and the food, and for the people working at the resort who had made the last few days fantastic. And I gave thanks for the new experiences I'd had since arriving. And I asked for forgiveness if any lines were crossed, but that he really should be more understanding considering all I've done and all I've been through. I said amen, then stood up and headed back to the door.

The breakfast place was busy when I arrived, and I thought I caught a glimpse of Leah already sitting. I grabbed a plate and looked around at the food options. I noticed a decadent display of donuts and headed right for it, picking up an old fashioned and a custard filled with chocolate icing. I grabbed a bottle of water and another of Diet Coke, knowing that I needed hydration and caffeine.

I found Leah and gingerly set down my plate and pulled out the chair. Her hair was gathered up in a top bun, and she was wearing an worn, faded blue 76ers tshirt. It looked like she was bottomless, so I assumed her bikini was underneath. She was picking at a plate of fruit and looked up at me with a smile. I sat and she asked "was I snoring?"

"No, I just couldn't sleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"You could have," she replied, her leg rubbing against mine under the table.

"Actually, I don't think I could've. I tried, but my body wasn't responding... I think I was still recovering from the other activities."

"Oh, no," she replied with mock terror, "I didn't break you, did I?"

"I'll be ok." I didn't tell her about the balcony. I picked up my donut and took a bite. She watched me and shook her head.

"I'm a little jealous. If that was my breakfast I'd slip into a coma within an hour."

"That's because you spoil your body with all that healthy food. My digestive tract knows it has to always be ready for battle."

She chuckled and shook her head, but she kept looking at my plate. I nudged it toward her and said "no judgement if you do." She upeeled a banana and took a bite.

"Before I forget," she continued when her mouth was empty, "I found your black panties this morning. I used them and they got very messy. But I figured it made up for you ripping mine last night."

I blushed and looked around to see how many people overheard that. Then responded in a quiet voice, "I'll be sure to stop by later and pick those up."

"Oh, no need, I hung them on your doorknob. Did you not see them on your way here?" She spoke loudly and proudly, with a big smile, trying to embarrass me. Was this just for fun or for revenge?

I was horrified and already pushing back my chair before I responded. "Oh my God, really? I gotta..." I started to get up.

She laughed loudly, drawing more attention from the other diners. "Just kidding, sit, sit... I'll get them to you later." Then in a quiet voice "they are filthy, though. You should have stayed."

"Can I make it up to you later?" She slowly nodded in response.

We continued with our breakfast and made more small talk, then when plates were empty she asked "what's the plan for today?"

"I'm thinking we lay poolside and relax, have some drinks, maybe squeeze in a nap."

"Sounds lovely." We both picked up our beach bags and walked out of the restaurant arm in arm.

We found the cabana labeled "Gomez" and put down our things. "Mitzi Gomez should be your pen name," she joked. Before I could respond she peeled off the t-shirt and revealed herself to me and the others already at the pool. She wore a powder blue bikini, bandeau style top that made her breasts look even bigger, and a boy short style bottom that elongated her torso. All I could think about was licking her stomach.

She peeked at me while I removed my cover up and for the first time showed myself to someone while wearing the itsy bitsy bikini. She looked me up and down, eyes wide, then twirled her finger, telling me to spin for her. I fell into a model pose and showed off the goods, then looked for her reaction. She leaned in close and whispered "yummy."

"Ditto." I touched her arm, then let my fingers slide down to her thigh before pulling away.

Under the cover of the cabana was a large bed with each side independently adjustable. I started sitting up, and she lowered her side to lay flat. The waiter introduced himself and, referring to me as 'Senorita Gomez' said that he would bring us any food or drinks we'd like, and that he'd check in with us every 30 minutes or so. Apparently cabana guests got an extra personal touch. He took our drink order and left us with two food menus.

This was the hottest day of the week so far, so the shade was much appreciated. Leah promised she wouldn't ignore me, then buried her nose in a magazine pulled from her beach bag. I was scrolling through some saved podcasts on my phone, looking for one to listen to, when the waiter returned with our drinks. I settled on one about the history of the temperance movement, took a sip, closed my eyes and relaxed.

From time to time I'd look over at Leah, picking a different part of her body to study. And I'd study the other couples around the pool, some quietly laying side by side like us, some frolicking in the pool or keeping up a steady conversation, some striking up conversations with other couples, desperate for new voices to listen to. True to his word, the waiter checked in with us every half hour or so, refreshing our drinks and serving as a reminder to us to change positions or to stretch. And occasionally Leah and I would reach out to each other, offering a soft touch on the leg or arm, or a whispered sign of affection. More than once she tugged on the string holding my bottoms together, and scratched at CatDog peaking out at her. We gossiped and giggled and nuzzled and relaxed, and I struggled to think of a better way to spend a morning.

A little after noon, the waiter asked if we'd like to order lunch. We looked at the menu and each ordered salads, which he delivered to us (with more drinks) a few minutes later. We sat side by side, cross legged, picking at our salads like two kids.

"'I'm not saying I could never eat a diet like yours. I just think that, after about three or four days I'd need some sugar or my brain would explode."

"That's what I thought too, at first, but it's like smoking, once you make it through 30 days, the cravings just stop. You've just gotta get through that first month."

"You smoked?"

"No, but that's what I heard. Have you ever smoked?"

"Nah, I was never cool enough." She swayed over and bumped my shoulder, and we both giggled. "So you're never tempted by dessert or chocolate or sweets or anything? Never give in, just a bit?"

"Of course, I'm tempted. And when it gets too hard to say no, I allow myself a little chocolate candy, and that takes care of it."

"Yeah, right," I replied with incredulity. Just then the waiter stopped by and took our empty salad bowls. He asked if there was anything else we'd like, any dessert. At mention of the word, my face lit up. "Yes," I replied excitedly, picking up the menu and locating the dessert list. I saw what I was looking for and dropped my finger on it for emphasis. "One slice of French silk pie, please, and if possible, could we get it in a to-go box. I might want to put it in my room fridge and save it for later." He smiled wide and nodded, then rushed on his way.

I turned to meet Leah's glare and let out a mock sinister laugh. "Is that you laughing or the devil on your shoulder?"

"It's my last day of vacation, that means the devil is driving the bus." I wiggled my eyebrows at her and she giggled and bumped her shoulder into me again, letting her hand rest on my leg.

"What do you wanna do after dessert?" she asked, apparently desperate to change the subject. "Maybe spend some time in the hot tub? Or make friends at the swim up bar?"

"Both good options..." I took her hand in mine in place of an actual answer, and we exchanged flirtatious looks, silently communicating naughty thoughts. We were interrupted when the waiter returned with a clear plastic container holding a large slice of pie and two plastic forks.

"Perfect, thank you," I said and he was on his way again. Then to Leah, in an exaggerated voice as if to mislead anyone who might be listening in, "Leah, dear, would you please assist me in bringing this dessert to my room so that I can put it in my fridge?" I winked, as if I wasn't being obvious enough. She rolled her eyes and we both stood, leaving everything except the pie there in the cabana.

Barefoot and bikini clad, we half jogged the length of the pool, then turned and entered the hotel. We took the elevator up, sharing the ride with a very happy older man, then found my room. She followed me in and closed the door behind us.

I set the pie down on the small table and then sprawled out on the adjacent couch, spreading my arms and legs and letting my head fall back. She sat on the closest corner of the bed, her hands on her knees, watching me nervously.

I picked up the container and popped it open. I dipped my finger into the pie and swiped up a bit of chocolate and whipped cream, then brought it to my lips and slid it deep into my mouth. I let my tongue lick the finger clean while making exaggerated mmmmm sounds, to show how delicious the pie was. I looked to Leah and she was still watching intently, hands on her knees, leaning forward.

"Wow, that tastes so good. But I'm really nervous about spilling and staining my new bikini. Oooh, I know what to do." I gave her a playful wink, then reached back and undid the ties. My top slid away, and I threw it across the room. Leah's eyes followed it, and when she looked back, my finger was already coated in more pie. I slowly, playfull brought it toward my lips, then, oops, veered off course and smeared it over my left nipple.

"Ugh, so clumsy, and I don't have a napkin." I put my finger in my mouth again, licked it clean, then scooped up more pie which was accidently spread across my right nipple. I licked my finger clean again and said "It would be really bad if I got a chocolate stain on my bottoms. Better take those off too." And with two quick pulls, the knots were undone and they too were thrown across the room.

"Mitzi, you're so bad..." she said quietly. She was squirming, and her hands moved closer to her own bikini bottom.

"I'm such a messy eater. Could you help me?" I bit my lip and opened my eyes wide, then waited.

At first she didn't move, like she was carrying on an internal debate. Then "what the hell," and she was on her feet. She pulled her bikini top over her head and dropped it on the floor. And then in one step she got her bottoms to the floor.

She knelt in front of me, between my legs, and dipped her finger in the pie. I opened my mouth wide and sucked her finger in, clamping down with my lips and swirling my tongue the way every guy I'd been with always liked. She tried to slip her finger out, but I wouldn't let her, not yet. Her other hand slid up my side, cupped my breast, and she lowered her mouth to my right nipple, lapping up the pie and forcefully sucking it clean. The made me gasp and release her finger.

Before I could object, her mouth was on mine, her tongue moving into my mouth, pushing the chocolate pie collected from my nipple into my mouth. Our tongues wrestled, passing it back and forth, the chocolate taste filling our mouths, until I relented and swallowed. She then did the same with my other nipple, licking it clean and feeding it to me, despite my best efforts to make her swallow a little bit.

When we broke the second kiss, she leaned back and looked at me. Her chin was covered with a brown chocolatey mess, which was dripping down onto her own bare breasts. The way she looked at me told me that I looked about the same. Nevertheless, I reached for the pie and scooped up a larger glob with three fingers, quickly spreading it across her breasts, then moving all three fingers into her mouth to be licked clean. Now it was her turn to show off her blowjob technique, and I've gotta say, my fingers enjoyed it.

As soon as she released my fingers, I moved in for another kiss, our tongues once again passing the pie, while our breasts pressed together and spread more pie between them. I once again swallowed a mouthful of shared pie, although I suspect she did also swallow some that time, then I pushed her back and began licking her breasts clean. That was no small undertaking, and while I did that she moaned loudly. I had my suspicions after the previous night, but now I was more sure; Leah was one of those lucky women who could orgasm through nipple play. That was all the encouragement I needed. I licked and sucked each nipple, making it hard while my fingers worked the other. I brought her just to the edge before pulling my head back.

"Lay down," I whispered, and she swung her legs around so that she could lay back. I scooped up the last of the pie in my hand and smeared it down her stomach, starting just below her breasts and stopping just above her bare pussy. I was careful not to let any pie sneak in there, and knew to keep my food covered fingers and tongue clear; I didn't want to send her home with an infection.

But I still messily licked up the rest of the pie from her body, swallowing as I went, feeling her body writhe under me and hearing her gasp and groan. I was certain that my face and hair were by now a horrible mess, but I didn't care. I was overcome by the decadence of it all. I felt spoiled by what seemed like a giant green light and a complete lack of consequences.

When the last of the pie was in my mouth, I moved up her body to offer one more kiss. Her hands met my cheeks before our tongues met, and I heard her groan "feed me." Her mouth was wide open and my tongue moved the gooey chocolate mess from my mouth to hers. I could feel her chest heave beneath me as she swallowed deeply. When my lips moved away from hers she uttered again, "hot damn, that's good pie."

That broke me, and overcome with laughter I collapsed onto her wet, sticky chest. She laughed beneath me, bouncing my head and making me laugh more, which only made her laugh harder.

When we composed ourselves, we silently looked each other over and both said "shower."

"I don't want to look in the mirror," she said, holding a hand to her face to shield her eyes as we moved past the mirrors. I agreed and did and the same. In an instant we were taking turns spraying the other clean, surprised by how far the mess had traveled down our bodies. When we were done, I made sure to wipe the couch clean too, before the housekeepers arrived and got a shock.

We inspected each other and decided that we were both now chocolate free. So it was safe to put our bikinis back on and go back to the cabana.

"That was really good pie," I uttered matter of factly when we were in the elevator.

"It was," she agreed, "but there's no way I could eat a whole slice." That triggered a laughing fit that greeted another couple waiting to board the elevator as we exited. Hand in hand we headed back toward the cabana, then she tugged me away and suggested we stop at the swim up bar. I followed.

The pool was heated, so there was no awkward moment as we adjusted to the water. We walked right in and swam up to the bar, then lifted ourselves up onto two stools. Another woman around our age was already seated to Leah's right. She greeted us with slurred speech as we gave our order to the bartender, who did his best to not stare at Leah's tits.

"I think my husband and I saw you two having dinner last night. I think its fantastic. Are you here on your honeymoon?"

Leah quickly raised her left hand showing no ring, and I did the same. "Nope, not married," she stated.

I leaned across her and added "just living in sin."

Leah then jumped in again, "neither of us is really a fan of the institution of marriage..."

"Or organized religion in general," I said, escalating the situation and trying to make Leah laugh.

Leah glared at me and smirked, then turned back to the woman and gave her a nudge with her elbow. "I mean why buy the cow when you can get the mike for free, right?"

She seemed to be spinning, but eventually mumbled "all good points," before sliding off her stool and taking her drink back to her waiting husband.

We took our drinks from the bartender and exchanged raised eyebrows and stifled laughter before doing the same and returning to our cabana.

We got settled, both laying flat on our stomachs, facing each other at the perfect distance for quiet conversation.

"How long were you planning that pie trick? Was that for making fun of your breakfast?"

"Nah, it was just kind of spontaneous, as soon as he asked about dessert..."

"Well sorry for the lack of tact, but thanks for not putting a chocolatey finger in my pussy. I had a guy do something similar many years ago and the fallout was terrible."

Oh, I know, not from personal experience, but I had to do research once."

"Whoa, lets unpack that. You had to do research about the insertion of food into a vagina? Is this part of the training for Lutheran clergy?"

"No... I mean... Ugh..." I regretted saying anything, and I could feel a tight, awkward feeling rising from my stomach.

"Ok, so I don't know how it works in your temple, but I'm kinda set up as pastor and counselor and therapist and sex-ed teacher all at once. I always tell the kids and teens, and adults too, that I'm there to help them no matter what, whether they want to talk about their faith or their families or whatever. And what I've found is that they mostly want to talk about sex."

"Sex with food, apparently. Wait, is that why cheese is such a big deal in Wisconsin?"

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," I said poking her in the side. "But really, I've gotten so many questions about sex... I think maybe I'm good at making people feel comfortable, maybe too good. And I'm not gonna shame anyone for asking; I'm gonna try to give them good information, so I sometimes have to do research.

"The food question came from a woman in my congregation. She and her husband had been married more than 20 years, and were empty nesters. They were rediscovering each other, and specifically rediscovering each other in the kitchen, and one thing lead to another. Anyway, she was worried about the possibility of infections, so I did some research."

"That seems like it might be more of a doctor question."

"Yes, at the end of our talk I told her that too. But I just can't help but try to be helpful."

"I get it, I mean, I get a bunch of sex questions from people too, but it's usually along the lines of, 'is it ok to use a vibrator on the Sabbath?'or 'are edible panties kosher?'"

I snorted and then we both laughed. "I got asked once if anal sex was subject to the Code of Hammurabi."

"A brown eye for a brown eye?"

"I think she wanted a biblical reason to peg her husband."

"I've had dozens of teens quiz me on loopholes around the sin of Onan. 'Is it only a sin if the semen touches the ground? What if it goes into a tissue that is then flushed down the toilet? What if it sticks to a wall?' All future lawyers."

"I had a woman ask me if it was a sin to take a facial on Ash Wednesday."

Leah snorted, "I thought the ashes was just a Catholic thing."

"I think she was dating a Catholic."

"I did have a couple come to me seeking advice about opening up their marriage. They wanted to know what the Torah said about polyamory. At first I thought they were just hitting on me."

"Could have been both."

"And recently I had a sweet old woman, in her 60s, a widow, crying in my office because she had just masturbated for the first time ever and was worried she was going to hell."

"Really? What did you tell her?"

"I told her it was her lucky day, that the Torah didn't really have an opinion about female masturbation. Mostly because most rabbis in history didn't think about female sexual pleasure at all, so she was free to paddle away."

I laughed. "I bet she was relieved."

"She was pissed. 'So many years wasted,' she complained as she left my office."

We both broke out laughing, and I put my forehead against her shoulder.

"I had a couple ask me to be their S&M coach." Leah's eyes opened wide. "The husband was terrified about choking or slapping his wife, even though she made it very clear to him that she wanted it. They asked me to help him with the morality of it, help them practice with, like, how hard to choke or slap, practice with safewords. After, I really felt like I crossed a line." Leah rubbed my shoulder reassuringly. "But I guess it worked. A few months later she told me how happy they were, that it really improved their communication. She said she had thought about ending the marriage before that, but now all is well."

"Ok, so what is, like, the question that you had the hardest time not laughing at?"

I considered that for a moment, then remembered one of my all-time favorites. "Someone asked me once if it was ok to take communion after having just performed oral sex."

Leah's face twisted in consideration, then seeking clarification she asked, "like, in the parking lot?" We both broke into laughter.

"Your turn."

"For me, it was the first time someone asked me if eating ass was kosher."

"The first time?!?" In a comic exaggerated voice I added, "Why, if I had a nickle for every time someone asked..." I cut myself off, a new thought now taking over. It seemed so obvious... "Oh my God. We should write a book! About this! Not making fun of people, but a non-censored discussion about the morality of sex from two members of the clergy representing Christianity and Judiasm."

I could see it laid out in my mind, chapters about what the Bible and Torah say about masturbation and premarital sex and polyamory and homosexuality and transgenderism. A chapter on the morality of S&M. Explanations about how historical antecedents mutated into religious dogma that were now entrenched despite lacking a moral basis. Frank discussion about specific sex acts, the kind that would never be entertained in a sermon or in a public school classroom. I saw the book gifted at bridal showers and displayed on dorm room shelves and snuck into sleepovers.

Leah responded slowly, still considering the idea as the words fell out. "That's... actually... not a terrible idea... Yeah... I think... I could see that... We'd have to stay anonymous though... And couldn't call out any members of our congregations."

"Yes, we'd reword some of those questions, and no names. We could use pen names and have illustrated versions of us in place of pictures."

"You can be Mitzi Gomez!"

"Yes, but you need a name."

"I'll think of something."

"Oooh! We could do tv interviews using the Zoom filter that made us look like cats!" I was really starting to get excited. "And best of all," I put my hand on her lower back, "it would force us to keep in touch, to see each other again." I leaned in and excitedly kissed her. She worked a hand around the back of my head and held me in place, extending the kiss, taking it deeper. I immodesly slid my hand down and squeezed her ass, not caring who might be watching.

The kiss ended and she spoke first. "I was kinda wondering if we were ever gonna exchange contact info." I reached for my phone and she did the same. We raced to the Add Contact button, then exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, both personal and business. We rolled over and posed cheek to cheek as I snapped our first picture together, then texted it to her, relieved to hear the chime confirming that she gave me her real number.

"Maybe we can take more pictures later," I playfully added, then "ooh, another subject for the book. God's take on sexting."

"You're even more adorable when you're excited." Leah's comment stopped me and filled me with a warm feeling. Then, "I'm absolutely certain that we can make this happen, together. But we're still on vacation. And right now I think you should take a nap with me."

"I'd like that. In my room, or right here?"

"Oooh... you know that if we go back to your room we wouldn't actually nap. Let's just stay here and listen to the wind."

We both lay flat, getting comfortable with our pillows, and blocking out the rest of the world. I watched Leah settle in and close her eyes, then set a timer on my phone and did the same. Unable to sleep, I let my mind wander to the book idea. I was composing the introduction, rewriting each paragraph until it was just right then moving on to the next. I was picturing fonts and illustrations and laying out the cover...

And then I woke up to the sound of my phone alarm beeping. I quickly turned it off and noted the time. I'd been asleep for almost 2 hours. I immediately noticed that Leah wasn't next to me; her bag was still nearby, but her tshirt and sandals were gone. I sat up and looked around the pool, struggling to adjust to the bright sun. I didn't see her anywhere. I considered whether I should pack up and return to my room, or if I should go to her room and look for her. I remembered that I had her phone number now and could text her, and then thought to look to see if she'd texted me. There was no message.

I decided to calm myself, wait a bit. I stood up and stretched, rememered what bikini I was wearing, and noticed a few people checking me out as I stretched. So I stretched more, then purposely bent at the waist as I adjusted my side of the bed to a sitting position. Seeing that I was up and about, the waiter checked in and asked me if I needed a drink. I ordered water, then thought better of it and asked for lemonade. He scurried away.

In the distance I saw Leah emerge from the hotel and strut along the side of the pool. Even wearing the faded blue tshirt she was sexy as hell. It occurred to me that the tshirt was likely something left over from a past boyfriend or one night stand. I imagined her lifting it over the head of a young doctor or lawyer with chisled abs, imagined him picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. There was a little jealousy, but more curiosity, more arousal. I thought about how she'd make love to a man, how it would be different than what I'd experienced with her. I imagined watching...

She returned to the cabana with a smile at the same time the waiter arrived with my lemonade. He asked her if she'd like anything and she declined. She sat next to me and touched my leg.

"I didn't want to wake you up. You were snoring a little bit. It was so cute." She held up her phone for me to see. "I'll delete it if you want, but I kinda think you look sexy as hell. I can send it to you if you want." The picture on her phone was of me laying on my side facing her, one leg over the other, my arms tucked under my pillow, a wide smile on my face and my sunglasses hiding my closed eyes. She had taken it while I was asleep, and, honestly, I thought it would be great to use on a dating app.

"Wow, yes, please send it to me."

She tapped a few buttons and I heard my phone chime. "I had this idea of how we could spend the last night of our vacation, and I checked out the reservation calendar at the spa, but, sadly, no more openings for couples massages today." She gave me a pouty look. "But I did make dinner reservations at the Mexican place, if you want to join me?" I nodded enthusiastically. "And I thought that it would be a good idea for us to check out the rooftop bar after dinner. I haven't been up there since I arrived."

"Me neither. I think that's a great idea.

"Also," she scooted a little closer to me, and her smile faded a bit as she talked. "I checked the airport shuttle schedule for tomorrow. My flight is at 12:30, so I think I'm going to take the 9AM shuttle. Do you know when your flight leaves?"

I let out a sigh and rubbed her closest arm. "I think it leaves around 1:00. I suppose I could take the same shuttle..." I didn't want to think about that yet, didn't want to think about my vacation ending, going home, going away from her. We were both quiet for a while.

I broke the quiet by asking "do we have enough time for another bath before dinner?"

"We do. I think that's a great idea."

I finished my lemonade and we gathered our things and said goodbye to the cabana. I snapped a pic of the Gomez sign before leaving.

We arrived back at our rooms and Leah said, "I'm gonna get a few things and then meet you back at your room. You can start filling the tub." She playfully patted my ass and continued to her room.

I put down my stuff and took off my coverup and sandals. I used the bathroom, then looked at myself in the mirror, and confirmed that I was starting to get some color. The usual pale complexion was getting to be a nice, even pink. Knowing that a deep bronze would never happen, I took pride in what progress I'd made.

I started the water in the tub, made sure it was the right temperature, then lamented that I hadn't packed any bath oil or bubbles. While the tub was still filling, I heard Leah's knock on my door, and I let her in. She carried a light purple dress and a small bag. She hung up the dress in my closet and set the bag on the bench by the door. "I thought we could get ready for dinner together." Before I could respond, she stripped the tshirt off and made me forget what I was going to say.

"Let me help you," she said, stepping toward me and pinching the strings holding my bikini bottom in place. Standing close to me she whispered "You look really good in this," then pulled both strings and let my bottoms fall to the floor. She moved around me and did the same to the two ties on my back, letting my top fall to the floor. I kicked it away.

Face to face again, I announced "my turn." I hooked my thumbs under the waist band of her bikini bottoms and slowly lowered them to her feet. I was sure to bend at the waist, knowing that she was looking at my reflection in the mirror behind me. As I stood, I let my hands slide up the full length of her long legs. I stepped closer to her so that our breasts were just barely touching and told her to raise her arms. She did, and I slid her top up over her head. She swirled it in the air and launched it toward the bed.

I held her hand as she stepped into the tub, then I turned off the water and stepped in on the other side, settling in facing her while our legs wrapped around each other.

Under the water, my hand found her foot. I gently massaged it and squeezed my fingers between her toes, discovering that she was ticklish in the process. Her own hands massaged my feet and up to my calves, while her other foot gently slid up my thigh. We both leaned back and let out long, contented sighs, slipping deeper into the water and moving our bodies closer, straining for more conact.

I absentmindedly brought my hands out of the water, splashed warm water over my breasts, then gently massaged them, feeling Leah's eyes on me. I opened my eyes and saw that she was doing the same, gently massaging each nipple while keeping her gaze fixed on me. I lowered my gaze and bit my lip seductively, now pinching each nipple, eager to make them as pronounced as hers. I let out a lusty shudder and continued in time with her.

"Do you wanna try something?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah," I quickly replied, my response oozing as much lust as I could muster.

She scooted closer to me in the tub and started to work her feet around me. I got the idea and did the same, moving closer to her and spreading my own legs to wrap around her. After some work and some adjustment, we were pressed together, our arms around each others shoulders, breathing into each others necks, moving together, doing our best to maximize the contact and the friction. We adjusted again and found a better angle, both of us aknowledging the success with long low groans.

Our thrusting increased in force, and soon we heard water splashing onto the floor. "We might need to move this to the bed," I said, hopefully.

"Not yet," she whispered, kissing my neck, then giving it a playful nibble. We kept going, heard more splashing, more moaning, then, as our noises grew louder, her foot slipped and the angle was lost.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

"Shhh..." I tried to calm her. Let's go to the bed.

We stood up and toweled off. I opened the drain in the tub and continued to dry myself. Soon we were standing at the foot of the bed, two wet towels on the floor, our hands exploring each other as the tips of our tongues poked at and tickled and teased each other.

"Lay down," she whispered, and just like on the first night we'd met, I was soon laying naked, my arms and legs spread, available for her to use me however she liked.

She climbed onto the bed and stood, looking down at me, her head near the ceiling. She walked over me, straddling me, then squatted, pressing herself against my mouth. Without needing to be told what to do, I got to work kissing and licking and probing her, feeling her wetness spread across my mouth, down my chin. "No hands," I heard her whisper, and let my arms fall to my side. Soon she was thrusting, grinding against me, more forcefully. My tongue didn't need to do any work at all, just hold it's place while she did everything else. Her moaning increased, soon replaced by grunting, then a high pitched, rhythmic wordless exclamation. Not quite screaming, but not of any discernable language.

Her pace increased, and I was amazed at her physical control. I was desperate to touch her, to grab her, but she had given me an order. With one more loud wail, she stopped thrusing and put her weight down on me, now shivering violently. She held for a moment, then let out a long exhale, and I knew that she was done.

She collapsed next to me and we both panted, catching our breath. "Give me a minute," she said, "then do that to me. Please."

"Yes," I responded, still panting.

"Say you'll fuck my face, Mitzi."

I felt my pussy throb. "Oh God, Leah, I really wanna fuck your face."

"Yes! Yes, do it now!"

I stood and moved to the foot of the bed. Leah centered herself and spread her arms and legs, just as I had. She looked up at me as I slipped a finger into my pussy and spread my wetness around my lips. She practically cried out "Oh, God, do it now. Please don't make me beg." I felt another throb. That's exactly what I wanted her to do.

I stepped over her and squatted, stopping several inches above her mouth. I felt her hands on my legs as she strained to reach up to me. "No hands," I ordered, and her hands released me.

"Is this what you want?" I asked in a low, quiet voice, reaching down again and letting a finger glide up and down my lips.

I brought my finger to her lips and slipped it into her mouth, feeling her sucking on it, just as she had earlier with the chocolate pie. "Tell me again."

She spit out my finger and cried out loudly "fuck my face, please, oh God, please use my fucking mouth!"

I dropped myself onto her mouth, feeling her eager tongue slip into me. I thrusted back and forth, stopping when I felt her nose bump against my clit then reversing course. I reached down and grabbed the knot of hair on her head, using it to balance myself as my thrusting increased. I felt my own pleasure increasing, the wetness growing and spreading, lubricating my path over her mouth. I felt my orgasm coming closer, the blood leaving my brain and rushing between my legs, removing the verbal filter, felt the words spill out of me...

"Oh my God, I love fucking your slutty mouth, fuck my pussy with your tongue, yes, yes, I wanna cum all over your face just like you did on mine, oh fuck, oh fuck!" I grabbed her hair with both hands now and roughly slapped my pussy against her mouth. I felt her hands grabbing my ass, pulling me in harder, but didn't tell her to stop. I suddenly found that I couldn't breathe, and felt my body release onto her, could hear the splashing against her skin and the loud slurping.

I sharply inhaled and quickly stood. Without thinking I dropped down onto her, our bodies together, and my mouth covered hers. We kissed sloppily and without inhibition. I reveled in every taste and smell and wanted to cover myself in our combined messes.

I kissed down her neck and chest and licked up whatever I found. I heard her panting and whispering "oh fuck, oh fuck" over and over. I ground my hips against hers and felt another shudder, let out another loud groan, before rolling off her and collapsing next to her. Still not wanting to stop I lowered a hand between her legs and explored her wetness, eagerly fingering her soaked pussy while I took her nipple into my mouth and pulled on it forcefully.

She rolled me onto my back, then spun me so that I was laying across the bed. She wordlessly rolled on top of me, lowering her pussy onto my mouth while her own mouth found my clit and started gently sucking on it. I slid three fingers into her, making her gasp and causing a trickle to drip onto my chin. I reached out with my tongue and lapped at her while my fingers fucked her.

My mind raced and I was overcome with a possessive, almost angry level of passion. I wanted to give her the best sex of her life. I wanted every one of her past and future sexual experiences to be compared to this one. I wanted her to think about me whenever another finger or tongue touched her.

My body writhed under her, my hips bucking up to grind against her while she pressed down on me. Soon we both climaxed again, together. She fell next to me, both of us panting and groaning. I felt her cheek press against my leg, her lips press against me, not caring where she was kissing me, just desperate to kiss me. I felt the same, and soon my own lips were pressed against her leg. Between kisses and deep breaths, I uttered "wow," and she responded with "really, wow..."

"We're probably gonna have to shower before dinner," I noted.

"This is the third time today I've showered after you made me cum. But I guess you weren't there for the first one."

"You did say you loved the shower."

"I loved you making me cum, too."

"We should probably make this a PG-13 shower. I think we both need some recovery time."

"Yeah," she sighed, "let's keep it above the waist."

We sat up and exchanged one more deep, sloppy kiss.

We made sure that robes were hanging outside the shower and that we had plenty of body wash and shampoo. Leah brought her own items from her room, and we stood next to each other as we washed ourselves. I could still smell her on me, no matter how much I scrubbed. Then we took turns washing each others hair, discovering the feeling of the others fingers massaging our sudsy scalps felt almost as good as what had caused the mess.

Outside of the shower we went through the normal routine. We dried our hair and did our makeup. Leah showed me the light purple dress she'd brought; it showed a lot of cleavage and was shorter than the other dresses I'd seen her in. She showed me the pink panties she picked out to wear under it and I helped her step into them, raising them into place.

She insisted that I wear my new orange dress, which I was planning on wearing anyway, and helped me choose what panties to wear under it. She returned the black mesh panties from the night before, but they were still in no condition to be worn. She blushed as I held them away from me, suspended between my thumb and forefinger. "Such a messy girl," I told her playfully.

I modeled the dress with first the matching orange panties, then the navy blue. She decided she liked the navy blue better, liked that flash of contrasting color when I revealed more than I wanted to. I liked it more too.

We looked over the bed and she said "I don't think you can sleep here tonight."

"I agree. Can we have another sleepover?"

"I'd like that." She gathered up her things from the bathroom counter and grabbed her bikini and tshirt. We stopped in her room and dropped them off. Before leaving, with my back to the door, I raised the front of my dress and showed off my panties and the skin above, raising the dress to my belly button. She stared lustily, then did the same, showing off her pink panties. She leaned in and kissed me.

"How do you do this to me?" I asked.

"I was gonna ask you the same."

"I mean, is it the location, or the steady flow of margaritas, or is it just everything about you that makes me act like this?"

"I think you and I are just two pieces that fit together very well."

She kissed my neck, and I could only remark "Mmmm, we both still reek of sex."

"Sex and chocolate." We giggled and left her room.

We enjoyed another pleasant dinner of tacos and margaritas, trying new combinations of fillings and toppings, although Leah again stuck with fish and vegetables. We talked more about ideas for the book, getting more excited and also more intimidated by the prospect of actually writing it. We also shamelessly flirted and teased each other, drawing looks from the other diners.

After dinner, we took the elevator to the rooftop bar for a nightcap. The bar was a much different experience in the dark. The view of the beach and gulf was gone, but the moon and stars and sight of ships sailing by in the distance more than made up for that. Sadly, the hot tubs closed at sunset, but there were several large, round, plush, poorly lit couches perched on the edge of the roof that offered comfortable, private cuddling and a fantastic view. However it was impossible to sit in these couches while wearing a short dress without abandoning any bit of modesty. I suspected that was why they were poorly lit.

We settled in to one of the empty couches, with the couches on either side of us already containing other couples. Each could easily hold six people, and I wondered what type of things happened up here late at night. Leah and I were immediately pawing at each other as soon as we settled in.

My eyes went upward, and soon I was able to identify a few constellations. In the distance, over the gulf, we saw lightning, and wondered if the storm was moving toward us or away. After a while, Leah pointed out a shooting star and sexily cooed "Make a wish, Mitzi." I silently made my wish, then scooped up her hand in mine and brought it between my legs. She gently massaged me, peeking back over her shoulder to verify if anyone could see the show. I glanced to the people on the couch to my left and saw them performing similar acts, her head on his shoulder, her hand in his lap, his hand under her shirt. I guess, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the couches weren't as poorly lit as I thought. Nevertheless, when Leah parted her own legs, my hand slid between her thighs and rubbed her through her panties. We had apparently both recovered from earlier.

Leah rested her head on my shoulder as we continued lazily fondling each other. I glanced back to the couple on my left, and they were still doing the same. I glanced over Leah to the couple on the couch to my right. They were a little less modest in their shennanigans, with her arm actively pumping up and down, and him leaning back and breathing heavily. I wondered if I'd see either of the women drop their heads down, wondered if the bartenders were directed to break things up at a certain point, or just let nature take its course. I decided that they really should bill this place as the Handjob Lounge on their welcome tours to increase business.

After returning to the bar for refills and resuming our couch-based exhibitionism (and voyeurism), I whispered to Leah, "Finish your drink and take me back to your room." I must have whispered too loudly, because I noticed the couple to my right both turn to look at me as soon as I said it. I hoped they didn't take it as an invitation. Her hand never stopped pumping. He must have amazing stamina.

Leah lifted her head from my shoulder and uttered "Si, Senorita Gomez," then finished her drink with one gulp. She withdrew her other hand from my panties and turned to the other couple so that they could see her bring her finger to her mouth and lick it clean. We stood and walked around the couch to exit. As we passed them, both still looking at us, his shirt clearly covering his exposed cock in her fist, I flipped up my dress and flashed my panties at them. We left the bar and headed back to the elevator, giggling and worried that they would follow. When the elevator door closed, we both were relieved and shared a kiss.

Upon return to her room, we both shed our dresses and jumped into the bed in just our panties. We left one light on in the entryway so that there was still a little light for us to see each other. We cuddled close and I asked her "any special requests?"

"I have two," she quickly responded. "First, I'd really like it if you were still here in the morning." She squeezed me and I made a mental promise to not leave early again. She stayed quiet after that until I said out loud, "I promise. There isn't anywhere I'd rather wake up in the morning. What's your second request?"

She didn't say anything. It seemed like she was searching for the right words, or maybe she was nervous I'd say no. Then she muttered "hold on," and slipped out of bed. She picked up her phone and tapped for a minute. Then stood next to the bed.

"We started this, earlier, in the tub. It made me think of when I was younger, first experimenting. I'd like this to be the last thing I do before going to sleep tonight."

She turned her phone toward me and on the screen was a video of two women in bed, legs wrapped around each other, arms around each other, foreheads touching, kissing, grinding their pussies together. They squeezed each other and thrust in unison and groaned and kissed and reached out their tongues to each other. Their thrusting increased and moans grew louder, and the camera changed angle and zoomed in on their bald, swollen clits rubbing against each other. I could feel my own pussy throb, and looked to Leah to see a wet spot on the front of her pink panties.

My own mind was filled with similar memories of youthful experimentation, and I managed to vocalize "oh... yes... yes... I'd like that."

She took the phone from me, then moved around the corner to the bathroom. She returned with a small bottle of lubricant. I recognized the label; it was the kind that promised a warm, tingling sensation. She set it down on the nightstand, then wordlessly slid off her panties. I spun my legs toward her and lifted them up in the air. She slipped the panties off my legs and threw them over her shoulder.

I laid back and she crawled into bed, straddling my thigh. She opened the bottle and squeezed a small amout onto her fingers, then spread it over her pussy while her eyes were locked on mine. She added more to her hand and spread it onto me. I immediately felt the warmth, and couldn't stop myself from groaning.

She lay on top of me, kissed me, pressed her body against mine. She ground her hips against my thigh, while also pushing her thigh between my legs, rubbing it against me. We got into a rhythm and I could feel the pleasure starting to climb.

She raised herself up and we adjusted. Now I was sitting up with my hands behind me, supporting me. She spun her legs around and was also leaning back on her hands. We lined up and pushed together, making small, gentle movements, not wanting to break contact. The oil now spread over both of us, spreading the warmth and reducing any friction between us. It felt almost like a warm, wet mouth on me, but without a probing tongue.

We were both really getting into it now, our breathing increasing, and soft moans escaping with every thrust. As our thrusting increased in force, it became difficult to retain full contact, so I told her,"lay back, on your back, all the way."

She lowered herself and moved her arms to her sides. I then raised myself up, kneeling above her, straddling her hip. My short legs made it easier to stay close to her, and I raised her free leg over my shoulder, pausing to kiss her foot as it drew close. Now I was centered above her, able to push down fully onto her, in perfect alignment. "How's this?" I asked as I started gliding against her.

"Holy fuck!" she shouted. I guess she liked it.

"Uh huh, yeah, you like that?"

"Yes! That's perfect! Just like that!"

It was perfect for me too. The tingle from the lube was hitting me hard, and I wasn't able to keep from letting out a little squeel with each thrust. She was now gripping the sheet, doing anything she could to push back against me harder. I adjusted slightly and we hit the magic spot, both of us letting out loud moans. I felt a jolt radiate up my torso, felt my muscles spasm, but didn't break rhythm. I felt her hand grasp me behind my knee, pulling me closer to her, increasing the contact.

I looked down and focused on her face. Our eyes locked and we both mindlessly repeated "yeah... yeah..." I looked down and watched her breasts bounce in time with my hips. I wondered briefly if it was uncomfortable for her, then decided I didn't care and reached down to pinch her nipple. She let out a yelp and we continued thrusting.

Quietly, she uttered through gritted teeth, "It's time to go to sleep, babe, you have to make me cum."

Inspiration struck and I leaned in close to her, her leg still over my shoulder, testing the limits of her flexibility. "You need to promise you'll be quiet so we don't get caught."

As soon as she comprehended what I said her eyes widened and the rest of her face tightened up. I felt her legs tense and her hips push up against me, then heard the loudest moan explode from her mouth. She made no attempt to stifle it or block the noise; she was too far past that. She continued to groan and writhe beneath me, then she gradually slowed.

Soon we were laying still. I helped lower her leg to the bed, then leaned in and kissed her.

I rolled off her and we lay side by side, catching our breath. She got up first, came back from the bathroom a few minutes later, then it was my turn to freshen up and clean up. I turned off the last light before returning to the bed.

She held the covers open for me. I slid in next to her and whispered "Good night, Leah."

She whispered "Good night Mitzi. Remember you promised to stay the night." She rolled over and pulled the blankets up tight.

I closed my eyes and got comfortable, then quickly fell asleep.

Thursday

In my dream, I was wedding dress shopping with my maid of honor and my mom. We were in a dress shop listening to the saleswoman explain to us that the new trend in wedding dresses was bold colors. Traditional white was out. We were excited by the idea, and when she brought out the first dress for me to try on, we all oohed and awwed at the sight of it. It was a burnt orange strapless minidress. Seeing it in her arms, I worried that it wouldn't cover my ass, but this was the trend, so I stepped onto a small circular platform and put it on. I was already naked except for my underwear in my dream; did I forget to mention that?

As I looked at myself in the mirror and listened to my friend tell me how perfect it was, I noticed that a fire alarm nearby was sounding. I expressed concern, but the saleswoman insisted that the fire alarm was due to how hot I looked in the dress. The alarm got louder, and I looked around for smoke or other signs of fire. Then I looked down and saw that the orange dress itself was actually made of flames. My whole body jerked and I began swatting at the flames, trying to extinguish them before they burned me, and as a result I tumbled off the platform.

I woke up just before I hit the floor. The alarm was still beeping, and my nocturnal attempt to find it on the bedside table and turn it off ended with me rolling off the bed and landing naked on the cold tile. In the process I also managed to knock over the bedside table, sending the phone sliding across the floor away from me. Now I was frantically crawling after it, finally picking it up and realizing that it was not my phone, that this was not my room. I heard a toilet flush, and then Leah emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a white robe.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she hurriedly stated, bounding toward me and taking the phone from me. I looked up at her from the floor with a confused look, only then realizing that I was awake and understanding where I was. She looked at me again and burst out laughing. I continued to just stare at her, which guilted her into stifling her laugh and issuing another apology. "I forgot that I set the alarm. I'm sooo sorry. You slept like a rock last night. Hey, are you ok?"

I looked around the room and rubbed my eyes. My first attempt at speech resulted in just a raspy squeek. I tried again and pathetically whimpered "I woke up and you weren't there."

Her smile disappeared and she dropped to her knees, threw her arms around me and cried out "oh noooo, I'm so sorry." The soft robe against me made me realize how naked and cold I was. I wanted a robe too. She continued hugging me as she uttered "but to be fair you were gone when I woke up yesterday, but that's ok, I'm not keeping score."

She stood up and helped me to my feet, then handed me my orange dress to put on. I found my phone, it was now 7:02 AM.

"Are you ok?" she asked again.

"Yeah," I answered, still bleary eyed. "I must have slept really well, I'm having a hard time waking up."

"I don't want to rush you out the door, I mean, I really don't, but I think you need to shower and pack, and I need to shower and pack. What do you say we meet in an hour and get breakfast before we need to go?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Her arm was around me, and she helped locate my shoes and panties (both pairs) as we moved toward the door. "And sex too," I added, now intentionally trying to sound like I was still confused. "We should do more sexy sex before we go. Where are we going again?"

She was onto me, and playfully squeezed my ass. She kissed my neck and said "I'd kiss you more, but morning breath..."

"Understood. Shower, pack, meet in an hour." I raised my panty-filled hand and gave her a mock salute as she opened the door for me. This was my second 40 foot walk of shame in as many days, both done without wearing any panties. I wondered if this would become a habit.

Back in my room, I quickly disrobed, used the facilities, and showered. I got dressed in bra and panties, t-shirt and shorts. I quickly packed up all of my clothes, throwing them into the suitcase unconcerned if they got wrinkled. I kept a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt on top so that I could easily change into them when I landed back where winter was still a thing. Then I packed up the contents of the bathroom counter. I made another pass through the room, checking every drawer and under the bed. I found a pair of panties in the far corner behind a plant and took a long pause to remember if they were mine, Leah's or someone else's. Regardless, I added them to the suitcase.

At 8:00, I knocked on Leah's door. She answered already dressed (damn!) in a thin, form fitting long sleeved tshirt and baggy shorts, and with her suitcase by the door ready to roll. We exchanged a melancholy look, then quietly headed out for breakfast.

I wandered around the buffet, feeling hungry but not craving anything I saw. I settled on a bright red apple and coffee. I joined Leah at a table for two where she was again picking at a plate of fruit.

"I have a gift for you, in my room, before we go. I was planning on giving it to you this morning, but, after, how you woke, up, I guess I forgot." She looked at me with those big brown eyes and I melted just a little bit.

I took a big bite of my apple and loudly crunched it. I silently made the decision to start eating healthier, more fruits and veggies, less sugar. Let's see how long that will last.

I reached out and put my hand on Leah's, then said, "I'm just gonna say it... I'm a big girl, so if this ends up just being a vacation fling, if we don't keep in touch, if its just too awkward revisiting this, or any level of friendship in the real world, then I understand, no worries."

She gulped down whatever was in her mouth, then reached for her phone. She silently tapped a few things, then set it down in front of her and slid it across the table for me to see. The screen was a webpage for the 2025 Womens' Interfaith Conference, September 8th - 11th, Minneapolis Convention Center. "Opportunity for women in leadership positions of all faiths to yadda yadda..."

I finished reading the page, then looked back to her. She was trying really hard to stifle her smirk, and I was likewise failing. She finally spoke, "I was thinking that we could save a few bucks by sharing a hotel room." I felt her leg against mine under the table.

I took another bite of my apple to give me time to think. While I chewed she asked, "Do you think we'll have a first draft done by then?"

With a smile now spread across my face, I could only respond "I hope so."

We slowly walked back to our rooms, holding hands. Leah asked "How far are you from Minneapolis?"

"It's less than a three hour drive. September is a really good time of year to visit."

"Are there... a lot of... lumberjack-types around there?" I recalled her story about the guy chopping wood. I squeezed her hand and noted "Actually, my local minor leage baseball team has a lumberjack mascot."

"Maybe I could add an extra day to my trip and catch a game." We entered her room and eagerly made out with each other. Neither of us wanted it to end, but we only had a few minutes.

Breaking the kiss, Leah exclaimed, "Ah, your gift." She turned and pulled a paper bag from her suitcase, then handed it to me. "I got this on the island the other day. It made me think of you."

From the bag I withdrew a pair of white cotton panties, low-rise boy short style, just how I like. There was black edging around the waist and each leg, and on the rear end were two symbols, one a yellow smiley face emoticon with a glowing blue halo over it. The other a red devil emoticon.

"Yeah, I think this sums me up pretty well."

"It's like CatDog, the dual nature of man."

I gave her a devilish look, then slipped out of my shoes and dropped my shorts to the floor. I turned and slowly pulled down my panties, looking over my shoulder as coquettishly as I could manage, then kicked them away. I then slid the new panties up my legs, adusting them til they fit just right, then asked "How do they look?"

In place of an answer, Leah wrapped her arms around me and pressed herself against my back. She kissed my neck and whispered in my ear "perfect." We stood there for a minute, just appreciating the feeling of each other. Eventually I put my shorts and shoes back on, then Leah followed me with her bags to my room, me again walking down the hall with panties in my hand, where we got my suitcase.

We made our way to the lobby, where we took turns using one of the tablets to check out and add tips for roomservice and wait staff and bartenders. I tried to do the math in my head; number of meals, number of drinks, then gave up and just typed a number that seemed sufficiently large. We sat close to each other on one of the large couches in the lobby until an attendant took our bags and informed us that the airport shuttle was ready to go.

For the first time all week the weather was less than perfect. The sky was cloudy and an occasional drop of rain struck the windshield as we headed south along the coast, back into Cancun. The return drive didn't seem to take nearly as long as the drive to the resort.

We sailed through check-in and security, so much faster than any American airport that I'd been through. Just after passing through security was a duty free shop that was the size of a typical American supermarket. Maybe that's why security was so fast; more time for shopping. We lazily browsed, but I only ended up buying a bag of peanut M&Ms for the plane. My earlier pledge would take effect tomorrow.

Leah's plane left first, so we found two chairs near her gate and relaxed. "What was your favorite part of the trip?" I asked her, wondering how dirty her answer would be.

She squeezed my knee and eventually said "the food was fantastic. How about you?"

I considered it, recalling the bath tub, and the shower, and the chocolate pie, and the rooftop bar, and alone on my balcony, and the food, and the sun, and the water... I finally responded "It was all perfect. So much better than I hoped."

Her section was called to board, and I stood with her and we embraced, neither of us wanting to let go, not caring about the others staring at us. Neither of us said anything when she turned and wheeled her suitcase into the skyway, neither of us wanting to say goodbye.

I found my gate, found a place to sit, and opened my bag of M&Ms. I went into my phone and unmuted a bunch of text groups, then watched the unread numbers pile up. I vowed to not read any until the next morning.

I then opened a new file in the Notes app. At the top I wrote "God Girls' Guide to Good Sex" as a potential title. I liked the double meaning of 'good,' meaning both high quality, satisfying, and moral, pious. I made a note to call that out in the introduction. Plus, a little alliteration never hurt.

When the time came, I boarded my plane, stashed my suitcase up above, then slid into my window seat. I watched each fellow passenger approach, wondering what stranger I'd end up next to, and was shocked when the airplane door closed without anyone joining me in my row. I looked around and also saw that the row behind me was empty. Maybe a group cancelled at the last minute, or was running late? Regardless, it meant that I could spread out and recline my seat guilt free. One last gift from the boss.

I switched my phone to airplane mode, put in my airpods, and started a downloaded podcast about the Mothman of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. The plane pulled away from the terminal, and as we taxied down the runway I gave a silent prayer.

I gave thanks for the wonderful week of fun and relaxation, of necessary battery recharging. I gave thanks again for the resort staff who took care of me. I asked for safe travels for myself and for my new friend. I prayed that I would find my friends and loved ones at home healthy and safe when I returned. I gave thanks for each new experience and all the pleasure and joy that was had. I said a silent amen, then closed my eyes and leaned back.