Tilda Charms the Bachelor Weekend

Author's note: All characters in this story are over eighteen.

Though in the E&V category, this story includes boy-girl sex.

All sex is between consenting adults.

* * *

The Ford Transit came to a halt near the reception, and the door slid open. Sinclair stepped out first, stretching after the three-hour drive from Chicago.

"Man, Bloomington is hot," he said, as his friend Justin stepped out behind him. He pointed to the huge duffle bag Justin was carrying. "Do you need help?"

"I've got it," said Justin, shaking his head. "These are just party favors. Bulky, but not heavy. Besides, you're the bridegroom."

"All the more reason to give him some work!" Madison had stepped out of the Transit, looking around at the resort. "Get him used to being useful after marriage. Gisele shouldn't have to lift a finger when Sink is around."

"Don't scare him already," said a voice from inside the vehicle. Gisele, the bride-to-be, negotiated the steps and came out. "Let me get him signed up next month."

Gisele and Sinclair had met in Chicago when their companies were negotiating a joint project. Work-related meetings had led to coffee and lunch together, and they had made their relationship formal with a ring six months ago. Their wedding was three weeks away. Rather than separate bachelor and bachelorette parties, they had decided on a joint weekend with their close friends.

"They have one luggage trolley," grumbled Trevor, pushing it to the back of the Transit. "All you guys with rolling suitcases can just drag them."

"Doesn't Bloomington have a lake?" asked Harper, fanning herself with her hand. "It's just too hot for words!"

"They have a lake, but it's twenty miles or so North," said Sinclair, helping Trevor load duffle bags on the trolley. "We couldn't get so many rooms together at any resort near it."

"Temperature drops after sundown," said Sofia, as they entered the air-conditioned lobby. "I hope all daytime events are indoors."

"Maid of honor, do your stuff," said Gisele, smiling at Madison.

"On it," said Madison, moving to the front desk. The others sat on the couches or stood as she checked them in and took possession of a bunch of keys.

"This joint bachelor weekend is a great idea," said Harper, one of Gisele's friends. "We're going to..."

She broke off as Gisele squealed. "Tilly! You're here."

The group looked at the entrance and saw a brunette in a green dress dragging a bag. Gisele almost ran to her and enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug. The newcomer put her hands on Gisele's shoulders and laughed.

"Good to see you, too, love," she said. "You're looking wonderful, as always."

"Guys, this is my childhood friend, Tilda," announced Gisele, turning to the group. "She drove up from Belleville to be with me for this weekend."

The group burst into a chorus of welcomes. Sinclair and some others shook her hand, while one of the men wheeled Tilda's bag to stand near the trolley with all the other luggage.

"Yes, I would have been here early," Tilda answered Gisele. "But there was a multiple-car crash near Springfield. Cops closed off two lanes of the highway, so it became a bottleneck."

"Doesn't matter," said Gisele, giving her another warm hug. "Tilly, I'm just so glad you're here. Have you met Sinclair?"

"Only about a thousand times," said Tilda, grinning. "During our phone calls." She smiled at Gisele's fiance. "She talks about you so much, I feel I already know you well."

Gisele introduced her to the other people in the group. The women were friends Gisele had made after moving to Chicago for work. The men were Sinclair's friends from college, most of whom worked in Chicago.

"So you're having a bachelorette event with your fiance and his friends?" asked Tilda after the introductions.

"Lunch in twenty minutes at the poolside cafe," said Madison, coming back from the front desk and handing out keys to the group. "Just put your bags in your rooms and... who's this?"

"This is Tilda," said Gisele, putting an arm around Tilda's waist. "My bestie from Belleville. We've known each other from before our memories start."

"Bestie, huh?" Tilda and Gisele both stiffened at the edge in Madison's voice. "Then why didn't you give her maid of honor duties?"

Gisele realized she had triggered Madison's jealousy and tried to assuage her feelings. "Because you're my sister from Chicago. No one knows me better today than you."

"Catch," said Madison, throwing a key at Tilda. "Your room's on the second floor, with most of us. Be at the poolside cafe in twenty minutes for lunch." She turned and strode away, leaving stunned faces behind.

"I keep forgetting how territorial and competitive she is," said Gisele, shaking her head ruefully.

"Calling Tilda bestie was a grievous mistake," said Sofia, after making sure Madison was out of earshot. "She can't stand anyone being more important than her."

"But she's the maid of honor, isn't she?" said Tilda, puzzled. "That's the top position at a wedding. Apart from the bride, of course."

"Well, you be careful, honey," said Harper. "Madison can be mean sometimes."

"Ah, don't scare her, Harper," said Gisele gently. "Madison's just possessive about her friends."

"And boyfriend," said Sofia, grinning. "Remember how she left Janice stranded at the highway diner because she hugged Justin a little too enthusiastically?"

"I wanted to invite Janice," said Gisele, looking a trifle unhappy as we went up the stairs. "But I didn't want trouble this weekend."

Putting her bag on the luggage rack in her room, Tilda touched up her make-up before locking the door with the old-fashioned key. She tried to remember the last hotel that used metal keys instead of electronic keycards as she went down the stairs.

She found herself the first person to arrive at lunch. The staff had already laid out the buffet near the pool changing rooms. Tilda chose a chair at a small table set for three.

The others trickled in soon after, and Tilda joined them at the buffet. She found herself sharing a table with two of Gisele's friends. Sofia she already knew; the other introduced herself as Aurora. Conversation was intermittent and cheerful as the three women ate.

The other table was much larger and noisier. With about ten men and women around it, including the bride and groom, there was raucous laughter and many absurd announcements and toasts.

"Have you known Gisele long?" asked Aurora. Madison was telling a long and detailed story about some incident when Gisele and she first met. People around the table were listening impatiently, hoping there was a point to the story.

"Almost all my life," said Tilda. She was glad she'd chosen the smaller table We live on the same street and went to the same school in the same bus for all of school."

"Yes, I'm going to finish!" Madison said harshly. Apparently, someone had asked her how long she would go on. She leaned forward aggressively with her hands on the table and glared around the table.

"Let's get seconds," said Sofia. Tilda and Aurora joined her at the buffet table, trying not to look at the larger table. "If all the meals are going to be this good, I'll have trouble getting into my bridesmaid dress."

Tilda had noticed that all Gisele's friends from Chicago were slender. Gisele herself had slimmed down since moving out of Bleeville. Tilda had never been insecure about being voluptuous, but realized she was very different in shape from all the women at the pre-wedding weekend.

A shadow fell over their table as they finished eating, and Tilda looked up to see Gisele smiling at them. "Come to the big table, girls," she requested. "Just drag your chairs over. We'll make room."

Leaving their plates, the three joined the main group. Everyone had finished eating, so being squashed together didn't matter much. Tilda stayed mostly silent as she wasn't familiar with the events and places in Chicago being recounted.

"Feeling left out?" whispered Harper, from Tilda's left. "We're not the usual discrete bride tribe and groomsmen. Most of us have been friends for a while. We've a lot of stuff in common."

"I can see that," said Tilda. She smiled at Sofia. "Gisele had invited three of us from Belleville, but the other two couldn't make it. But I'm happy to meet you all."

"I saw you happy at the buffet, too," said Madison smoothly. "But you don't need to load your plate like that. There will be regular meals here."

"Just keeping my energy up, Madison," Tilda replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The nasty words had been unexpected.

"Well, be careful, bestie from Belleville." The last words were delivered with a sneer. "You don't want to bloat up just because the meals are free. A girl should watch her figure."

"Not worrying, sweetie," said Tilda. "Anyone setting eyes on me knows they're looking at a woman." She ran her eyes over Madison's small breasts. "It's not always obvious."

"That's what Belleville is known for? Obesity?" Madison spat out the words, and everyone at the table was stunned by the venom. "Chicago is a different world."

"When people hear Belleville, they think of Jimmy Connors and Jelly Beans," said Tilda, smiling gently. "Chicago reminds people of Al Capone and the Daley Machine."

A couple of snorts broke out around the table, and Madison turned to glare at her friends. "Chicago is an absolutely wonderful place," she said, her voice rising. "You rural people can't understand us."

"As you say, Madison," said Tilda, turning to talk to Justin sitting beside her. She really wasn't interested in a battle for supremacy with Gisele's ill-tempered friend. Justin was easy to talk to, and she listened as he described how the friends around the table were connected to Gisele, Sinclair, and each other. Tilda mostly listened, asking a question from time to time.

Harper, sitting across from them, joined their conversation, too. Tilda learned that Gisele had shared a flat with Harper in Chicago before moving in with Sinclair.

Half an hour later, Madison stood and clapped her hands. Conversation stopped as people looked at her. "Plan for the evening, people. We can rest for a while, and at five, we all climb into the bus. We're going to the Castle Theatre. Damiel De Angelis is performing live!"

The women around the table whooped; the men seemed less enthusiastic. One man down the table asked his neighbor, "Have we been bad?"

"Stop it, guys," said Gisele, not unkindly. "Damiel's a dreamboat, and he can sing, sort of. We'll have dinner somewhere downtown, so all our meals aren't at the same place."

The evening went well. Gisele sat with Tilda on the bus, giving them a chance to catch up. Close friends all through their school years, they had been living in different cities for several years.

The group enjoyed the concert, and the place was too noisy for conversation and snide remarks. Everyone was in a good mood as they got into the bus again.

"Here we are, fellas," Justin announced as the bus stopped. "We're stopping for drinks and eats at The Performaniac. It's a nightclub which has good food and beer."

"I thought you'd arrange something with strippers where everyone would get sloshed." Brent grinned. "This seems pretty tame by bachelor party standards."

"You've brought us to a tame place?" Sofia raised an eyebrow at Madison.

"Don't look at me!" Madison raised both hands. "This is the Best Man doing his job as best he can."

"We haven't even seen what the place is like," protested Sinclair. "It might be really nice. Besides, Gisele and I decided not to have the typical bachelor nights with heavy drinking and sexual stuff."

"That was a good decision," said Harper, but she said it softly so that only Tilda could hear her. Tilda smiled at her, realizing that none of this group could be seen openly making safe or wise choices.

Justin had booked in advance, and the group was all seated at a long table. There was a small stage in one corner of the club, where a three-piece band was playing. Tilda found herself sitting between Brent and Madison.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!" The manager of the nightclub had taken the microphone on the stage. "Our band is ready, and we invite our guests to come and perform at the famous stage of The Performaniac! Come and show us your talent, or lack of it. Everyone is welcome!"

"I hope this won't be like a karaoke night," said Brent apprehensively. One man in a shiny jacket had charged onto the stage almost before the manager stopped speaking. Clearly, he had come prepared.

"Amateur singers can be very good, sometimes," said Harper, sitting across the table from Madison. The third volunteer had just finished, and the band was taking a break while waiting for the next enthusiast. "But only sometimes."

We laughed and agreed with her. Madison turned to me. "How about you, Tilda? Do you feel like getting up on the stage?"

"Nope. I'm okay here."

"You should try," urged Brent. "You have a good voice."

"Don't know about voice," said Tilda. "But I can't carry a tune."

"Do you have nightclubs where you come from?" asked Madison, in a voice a little too sweet. "What is it, Bellaville?"

"Belleville," Tilda said, looking at her. "There are lounges and venues for live music."

"So this is your first time at a nightclub?" Madison asked. "How exciting for you!"

Tilda looked at her for a moment more, then turned to talk to Brent on her other side. She wondered why Madison had taken a dislike to her, but didn't dwell on it for too long.

Fortunately, there were only a few enthusiastic singers, and the band went back to playing on their own. The wedding group enjoyed the snack dinner and were in a cheerful frame of mind as they got into their bus.

"Brunch poolside tomorrow," announced Madison as they all entered the resort lobby. "Same place as lunch today."

* * *

Tilda had slept in this morning, and when she reached the brunch, the small table was already occupied. Sinclair and Gisele were at the main table and waved her over to join them. Her relief was short-lived; Madison walked back from the buffet and sat down opposite her.

"Slept well, didn't you?" Madison interrupted Tilda's conversation with Sinclair. "I guess you're not used to nights out with drinks."

"Perhaps you're right," said Tilda, after taking a moment. "I hope you slept well, too."

"Not much chance of that, with the roommate she has." Aurora chimed in, with a side glance at Justin. Madison swatted her shoulder in mock anger.

"We're having a platonic weekend, because her friend visited early," said Justin from his place beyond Sinclair.

"Ewww!" Gisele made a face. "We did not need to know that."

"Especially when we're eating," murmured Tilda. Madison gave her a dirty look. Making ninety-seven dirty looks so far, thought Tilda.

Their meal was interrupted by the hotel manager walking up to them. After inquiring about their satisfaction with the room and meals, he thanked them for choosing their hotel. "As special thanks to you wonderful people, I have some special prizes to declare."

He pulled an envelope from his pocket. "First prize, for the bride and groom. A half-day couple spa package with facials, pedicures, manicures, and massage." There was cheering around the table with advice on starting the honeymoon on the massage table.

"The second prize," the manager announced, after the noise had abated, "goes to the best man and the maid of honor. Our deluxe taster menu dinner for two at our award-winning restaurant, with a selection of our finest wines." Tilda thought Madison looked happy for the first time in two days as she accepted the envelope.

"And a special prize for the friend who drove up alone from the far reaches of our state." The announcement made Tilda sit up straight. She looked at Gisele, who smiled gently and nodded. "For Ms. Tilda, a deep tissue massage by our most experienced masseuse, using exclusively formulated oils, to relax her core and rejuvenate her after the long journey."

Most people around the table clapped. Tilda whispered to Gisele, "How did I win? I didn't enter anything."

"There wasn't anything to enter. These are the freebies with our sizable package. Sink gave your name for the solo prize."

"Well, thanks, Sinclair," Tilda said, putting her envelope in her purse. Sinclair nodded.

"They talk of their most experienced masseuse, but they have only two," he said. "Gisele and I are going for our couple thing after brunch, so both will be busy with us. You should make an appointment for three or four."

"Sounds good," said Tilda. "Thanks again for doing this."

* * *

"Good afternoon, madam," said the middle-aged Chinese woman with a bow as she entered the spa waiting room. Tilda had been waiting for a while. "I am Xiu, your allotted massage therapist."

Tilda tried to bow back. "Please call me Tilda. Are we running late?"

"Only a few minutes," Xiu reassured her. "Your friends, the bride and groom, came somewhat late, but were in a hurry later." Tilda sensed the woman was suppressing her amusement. "They wanted to get back to their room."

Tilda grinned. "So they, er, found the couple massages a good experience?"

"You could certainly say that," said Xiu, openly smiling now. "Please leave your shoes on the rack, Miss Becker." She held back the heavy curtains in a doorway and allowed Tilda to precede her into the room.

"This is our massage therapy room," said Xiu. "It's actually two rooms with a table each, but we fold the partition to make it one room when a couple's massage is scheduled." She walked to the wall and pulled an accordion partition closed.

"Now, Miss Tilda,' said Xiu, standing near the head of the massage table. Lighting some incense sticks, she placed them in a narrow vase. The smoke coiled up into the air before dissipating.

"Please undress to the level of your comfort, and your massage will proceed accordingly."

Tilda nodded and unzipped her dress. Xiu asked her if she had any allergies before mixing various powders and essences into oil in a bowl. Tilda was about to climb onto the table in her bra and panties when Xiu stopped her.

"I must lock the wheels," she explained, operating levers with her foot. "Or the table could run off when I apply pressure."

"Why does your massage table have wheels?" Tilda said, watching as Xiu applied force to the table, making sure it would not move.

"This room is used for yoga and spin classes in the morning," Xiu explained. "So they move the tables out of the way. Please lie face down. We will start with your back." The bowl she was stirring imbued the room with a very pleasant fragrance reminiscent of flowers and spices. She paused with the bowl in her hand.

"Are you agreeable for your undergarments to get oil in them? The oil and scents are almost permanent, and you may not be able to wear them again."

"I hadn't thought of that," confessed Tilda. "I hadn't planned on getting a massage during this stay. This prize was unexpected."

"Ah, or you would have brought something different to wear," said Xiu. She was still holding the bowl. "This is a very alluring set you have."

"Yes, it is almost new." Tilda smiled self-consciously. "My date night set."

Xiu waited patiently as Tilda thought. "Have you always worn underwear at massage therapy previously?"

"I've only had massage twice before," said Tilda. "And one of them was Shiatsu. I wore underwear to the other." She paused, thinking. "Yes, I had to throw them away later." She reached behind her to unhook her bra.

"Good choice, Miss Tilda." Xiu took Tilda's bra and panties and placed them with her dress. "It will keep them clean and safe. You will also benefit from a better massage experience, and it will help me if my hands can have free movements."

Tilda's heart hammered in her chest as she lay completely nude on the table. She was thankful that only her back was exposed to Xiu's eyes, and wondered if she would have the courage to actually turn over later. She closed her eyes as she felt oil pouring on her back.

The smoke from the sticks reached her, and Tilda breathed deeply, trying to identify the fragrances. Xiu answered her inquiring gaze. "The incense has clove and sandalwood, and some other ingredients. It will help you to relax."

Xiu looked small and tired, but she had surprising strength in her hands and fingers. Tilda felt her thumbs along her spine and fingers over her back and sides as the oil was expertly spread and rubbed into her.

"Please try to relax yourself," Xiu murmured. "Your muscles are very tight."

"Yes, I am trying," said Tilda. She gave a nervous laugh. "I haven't done this before."

"I can understand that." Xiu lifted the bowl again and dripped a few drops of oil. "Perhaps conversation will help?"

"Yep," said Tilda. "Have you always lived in Bloomington?" She had almost asked if Xiu had come to America recently.

"No, Springfield." Xiu moved Tilda's hair to one side to reach her neck. "My family is there. I came here after getting my massage therapy certification."

"So you work at the resort all day?"

"No, I have my own set up in town." Xiu worked her thumbs on the trapezius muscles, eliciting a small yelp from Tilda. "I come here at noon and leave by four thirty."

"So you work at your own place on either side of this place?"

"Yes, I have appointments there from five." Xiu poured oil on Tilda's buttocks and slapped them lightly. Tilda was silent as she felt Xiu working.

"So how long is my session? Will I make you late?"

"It's a one-hour core tissues massage, so we'll be done by a quarter past four," said Xiu. She was working on Tilda's thighs now, running the heels of her palms from the buttocks to the knees. "Please try not to worry about things. Massage therapy works best if you are completely relaxed."

"Yes, all right," murmured Tilda. She was aware of her unclothed state and could hear the sounds of Xiu's assistant cleaning the space on the other side of the partition. Taking deep breaths, she made an effort to close out other awareness and concentrate on Xiu and her therapy.

"Please turn over now," said Xiu, stepping back. Tilda went still for a moment as she realized the moment was upon her. Steeling herself, she turned over on the narrow massage table, knowing she was exposing her breasts and most private parts to the other woman.

"Anybody home?" A sharp voice came from the outer area, and Tilda jumped. "Hello?"

Xiu put a reassuring hand on Tilda's shoulder. "Do not worry," she murmured. "Chen will talk to them."

Tilda lowered herself to the table again, and Xiu lifted the bowl of oil again. She heard Harper's voice outside, asking for an appointment, and Chen's lower voice. Apparently, Harper had been told they were close to closing time.

"Can we talk to your senior therapist? Xiu?" Harper must have read the name of the spa brochure on the front desk. "Is she inside? Can we just talk to her?"

Tilda looked around, alarmed. Her clothes were in the far corner, and she couldn't see a sheet or towel.

Frowning, Xiu moved to the doorway and peered out. She spoke in a low voice to the women outside, though Tilda could not make out what the gentle Chinese woman said. Xiu was shaking her head as she returned to the table.

"They were quite insistent. I have asked them to return after half an hour to set up treatment sessions tomorrow." She poured a little oil on Tilda's navel and started her work before stopping abruptly. "Oh, no," she murmured. "You're taut as a drum. You will not benefit like this."

"Sorry," Tilda said. She was keeping her legs close together and resisting the urge to cross her hands over her chest. "I wish your massage room had a door."

"Ah, yes." Xiu was stirring more powder into the bowl. "But it's not often a problem. Most people have their treatment wearing shorts or undergarments."

"Huh?" Tilda raised her head to look at Xiu. "But you said massage is best without clothes!"

"Of course it is." Xiu nodded. "So we advise it to all our clients, but almost everyone prefers keeping undergarments on."

Tilda was brought to alertness by the feel of warm oil dripping on her thigh. She opened her eyes to see Xiu leaning forward to apply pressure on her thighs. Tilda put her hands behind her neck and focused on enjoying the feel and fragrance of the massage.

Xiu poured some more oil on Tilda's belly; her hands were gentler now. The repetitive movements and Xiu's soft voice telling her to let her stress go and relax had a combined soporific effect. From time to time, Xiu poured more of the aromatic, warm oil and worked on different parts of her client's body. Tilda's eyes closed, and her breathing grew deep.

* * *

Tilda came awake to the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses. She tried to remember when she had fallen asleep, and who might be in her bedroom. As consciousness returned fully, she recalled the massage room and falling asleep under Xiu's massage.

She could hear several people nearby and identified the voices of Gisele and several of her friends. Without opening her eyes, she moved her hand a little to feel herself and discovered, to her horror, that she was oily and naked. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to guess where she was and how many people were around her.

Opening one eye partially, she saw blue sky. Blue sky and clouds. She heard Justin's distinct baritone followed by another burst of laughter. She heard someone who sounded like Aurora asking for the cashews.

Tilda tried to understand what had happened. She had dozed off in the spa. How had she reached the pool area outside the hotel building?

"Time to wake Tilda Van Winkle," announced a voice near her, and she felt something freezing cold being pressed against her bare belly. An involuntary cry escaped her, and she sat up.

"You beast!" Tilda said to Harper, who was holding a glass filled with ice. Looking around, she saw that their whole group was sitting around the two tables set up near the pool. Madison had risen and was walking toward her.

Tilda wrapped her hands around herself, trying to cover her generous bust. Madison laughed. "Not much point to that, sweetie. You've been sleeping nude in broad daylight right here. Everyone's had a good long look at all of you."

Dejectedly, Tilda lowered her arms, though she kept her legs close together. "How did I get here? I was having a massage inside the spa."

Harper strolled over holding a cocktail. "We were there to fix appointments, and we saw Chen and Xiu had a problem. It was their time to leave, and you were deep asleep on their table. So we told them we would deliver you to your room."

"You could have woken me," said Tilda, trying to keep her voice level. "It's not like I was under anesthesia."

"You were sleeping very deep, sweetie," said Madison. "And you looked so peaceful. We just didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"You had no problem waking me just now," said Tilda, looking at the ice-filled glass Harper was holding.

Madison burst into laughter. "You really sleep very deep, Tilda. We wheeled you through the resort, and you didn't stir at all."

Harper giggled. "That table's heavy, even with wheels. But it was worth it when we got here. The guys were like Christmas came early."

Tilda looked around. "Where are my clothes? They were in the massage room."

"Yeah, Chen offered to drop them off at the laundry. He's such a helpful guy."

Tilda swallowed the words wanting to burst out of her. Obviously Madison and her friends had played this prank on her. She thought about her options -- staying where she was, with their own group, or trying to run through the resort to her room. Neither was particularly attractive.

Gisele walked over as Madison and Harper returned to the table and put an arm around her. "You look great, Tilly. Don't be too mad. The girls just got carried away."

"I see." Tilda's tone was flat. She'd expected better from Gisele.

"Sink and I came out just a minute ago," explained Gisele. "I tried to get a sheet for you, but the whole group told me not to be a killjoy." She grinned and waved to the table. "Come along and upstage all the hellcats."

Tilda looked at her for a long moment, considering. In the background, she could see Madison directing a server to remove two chairs from the table. Nodding at her old friend, Tilda slid off the table and walked with her toward the larger table.

Gisele dropped gracefully into her chair next to Sinclair. Tilda realized why two chairs had been removed just then; there was now no chair for her. Gisele and Sinclair were deep in discussion about wedding plans spread out on the table before them.

Madison gave Tilda a beatific smile. "Too bad there's no place for you. Maybe you can just sort of hover."

The whole table looked at the nude woman standing near them, waiting to see how she would deal with the latest escalation from Madison. Tilda put a hand on the back of Justin's chair and leaned over to talk to him. "This chair looks strong enough for two, Just. Do you mind sharing?"

"Uh, no, not at all. Sure, you can share." Justin looked at his girlfriend and noticed the thunderous expression. "Actually, you can have this chair. I'll get..."

While he was still speaking, Tilda dropped onto his lap. Madison gasped, and there was a collective indrawing of breath. Gisele broke the spell by laughing, and grins broke out all along the group. The three people at the smaller table clapped.

Madison glared at Tilda. Tilda looked at Aurora. "Could you pass the fritters, please? They smell good!"

Justin was in a fix. His girlfriend was glaring daggers at him, and he knew perfectly well it was inappropriate to have a completely naked woman sitting on his lap. He also realized this situation was between Tilda and Madison, and he'd been dragged into it.

Tilda was adding cream to her tea and stirring it. "Is there any sugar? Oh, thanks." She opened a sachet and added it to her cup.

"Do you really need cream and sugar?" Madison was getting her balance back. "You already look like an overnourished stuffed toy."

"Better than being a mouth on a stick, sweetie. Ask anyone with balls." Tilda moved her spoon around the cup noisily. She turned to Justin. "Your pants are slippery. You should look for higher wool blends."

"Uh, I didn't expect to have anyone sitting on me," he said plaintively. "Next time, please give advance notice."

Sinclair chimed in from across the table. "Be a gentleman, Just. Don't let her fall."

"Yes, sir," Justin said. He put his hand around Tilda's bare waist, holding her steady. She smiled and patted his forearm. Madison looked as if she'd cheerfully murder both of them.

"What an interesting situation Madison's created," said Gisele. "Tilda has no clothes and can't go through the resort. She's stuck where she is."

"Woe is me!" declared Tilda, raising her hands to the sky. "I'll just have to stay put where I am. Hey! Hold tight!"

The last words came as Tilda felt herself slipping off Justin's lap. Instinctively, he curled his hand tighter around Tilda's bare waist. She thanked him by patting his hand and leaned forward to take another sip of her tea.

A server approached with a platter of sandwiches. As she went around the table offering them, she stopped near Justin. "Shall I get you people another chair, Sir?"

"We must follow the wishes of the maid of honor." Tilda answered before Justin could. "She ordered the removal of two chairs, so we'll just have to manage." She smiled at Madison. "Even though I am suffering greatly."

Brent wandered over from the other table and stood with his hands on the back of Madison's chair. "Everything okay here? We heard weeping and gnashing of teeth."

Madison went still. Justin snorted and tried to turn it into a cough. Tilda smiled and held up the plate of fritters.

"You look quite lovely, Tilda," said Brent, taking one. "Did you have your hair done? Or wait, a massage?"

"Good guess!"

"Do I get a prize? Can I take Just's place?"

Harper giggled, and Madison turned to glare at her. Justin spread his fingers on Tilda's bare stomach, and she felt his little finger on the stubble of her pubic hair. Brent nodded at the table and went back to the other table.

Most people at the table had become used to the nude woman among them, but Tilda still felt eyes on her bare breasts as she made conversation with people on either side of her. She was grateful for the tablecloth covering the lower half of her body. Especially as Justin's hand was wandering down her belly with the passing minutes, and she could now feel his touch on the top of her pussy lips.

"You're creating a future problem for me," Justin murmured. "I hope you realize that."

"Justin Nowell," Tilda answered, without turning her head to look at him. "Or Just Now to friends, right?"

She felt him shaking with suppressed laughter. "I am enjoying the just now, but the future is in my thoughts."

"Life is always one decision after another." Tilda grinned and stretched to pluck a tissue from the holder and noticed Sinclair staring at her breast as it dangled over the table near him. She got things under control quickly; she had no vendetta against Gisele.

Justin took advantage of the cover provided by the tablecloth to run his fingers over Tilda's pussy lips. She accommodated him by spreading her knees under the table. Justin whispered thanks and inserted two fingers between her lips.

Tilda enjoyed Justin's explorations and tried to keep her voice steady while conversing with her neighbors. She hoped her face wouldn't give away Justin's activities.

"Is dinner being served here, too?" asked Aurora. She reached over and broke a biscuit into two. Picking up the smaller piece, she nibbled delicately at it.

"We're having a campfire on the front lawn today," said Madison, tearing her eyes away from her boyfriend. "Dinner will be served there, but somewhat late."

The group discussed plans for the campfire. One of Sinclair's friends had a guitar, and Sofia sheepishly admitted she had brought a karaoke microphone. Tilda gasped: Justin had found her clit a few minutes ago, and the mention of the guitar had incited him to strum it with his fingers.

"If I let out a moan or worse because of what you're doing down there," murmured Tilda, hoping only Justin could hear her. "The future you fear might arrive sooner than you expect."

Justin gulped, and his fingers froze in place. Slowly, he removed his hand from Tilda's pussy and returned it to her belly. Tilda discreetly passed him a tissue under the tablecloth.

The servers had cleared the table, and the conversation was desultory. One by one, the friends started leaving to get ready for the evening. With half the group left, Justin remembered.

"Hey, babe," he called to Madison. "I just thought of it. We have that prize -- dinner for two at the deluxe indoor restaurant. Shall we do it before the campfire or after?"

Madison turned her head slowly and fixed her glare on her boyfriend. "You want to take me to dinner? After necking with this hussy for the past hour?"

"Hey, I didn't create this situation," said Tilda, sitting up straighter on Justin's lap. "You brought me out here without clothes, and you got the server to remove the available chairs."

"Yeah, don't call Tilda names," Gisele said, looking at Madison.

Madison was glaring at her boyfriend. "Half the chairs are empty, but you're still stuck to her. If you're so attached to her, you can take her to dinner."

"Come on, Madison." Justin tried to calm his girlfriend, but had limited success because of the nude woman sitting on his lap. "You know I didn't start anything."

"But you've been enjoying it!" Madison managed to hiss the sentence, though there wasn't a single sibilant in it. She took the prize envelope out of her bag and pointed to Tilda. "You! I'll sign my dinner over to you if you go to dinner now, just as you are."

"The resort won't allow a naked woman in their upmarket restaurant, Madison," Sinclair tried to tell her. "And besides, it's your place with Just."

Tilda was thinking. She had hoped someone would help her get a towel or tee shirt to go up to her room. She was long past the shy stage now with this group, but didn't want to walk through reception to get her clothes and key. But she was a tiny, teeny bit enraged with Madison for what she'd been through.

So when Madison pulled a pen out of her bag and challenged her again, Tilda gave her a small nod. The angry woman wrote and signed her name, closed the envelope, and threw it towards Justin. Grabbing her bag, she stormed off.

"Now what?" said Justin, looking lost. "She's really mad."

"Well, you must know the steps to un-mad her," said Brent. "I mean, she gets mad often."

"Don't, Brent," said Sinclair, trying to hold back a smile. "My best man has a clear and present problem."

Tilda patted the hand on her stomach, and Justin looked at her. Realizing what she intended, he removed his hand and Tilda stood up. The chair next to Gisele was empty now, and she lowered her naked body onto it.

"Seriously, can someone arrange a towel or something?" she asked. "I'd like to go to my room and get ready for the campfire."

"What?" asked Brent. "You're not going to dinner with Just? Standing him up?"

"Isn't he in enough difficulty?" Tilda smiled.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," said Brent. "In other words, go big or go home."

"It's not so easy, Brent," protested Justin. "Madison wants Tilda to go to dinner, uh, as she is."

"Don't let that stop you, Just," said Gisele. "I'm sure Tilda will enjoy the deluxe wines and tasting menu."

"Hey! I just said I wanted to go and get dressed for the campfire." Tilda turned to Gisele and raised her hands.

"His girlfriend's pissed, and if you don't go, he'll lose out on the prize he's won with unrelenting hard work and discipline."

"Huh?" said Sinclair. "Don't do this, Gisele. Madison started this crap, but she's mad at Just. We shouldn't provoke her more."

"No question of that," said Harper, rising. "She brought Tilda here like this, and she signed over her dinner place to her. Just should honor his girlfriend's choices."

"Always the troublemaker!" Sinclair said, raising his hands.

"No, she's right," said Justin. "Madison created this." He turned to Tilda with a grin. "Ready to rock the restaurant?"

Tilda looked down at her bare body and then at Justin. "Are you serious?"

"It's only six. There won't be anyone eating this early." He stood up and offered his hand to Tilda. She stood up and took it.

* * *

Justin had been right, Tilda thought, looking around at the empty restaurant. It was only six pm, and there were no guests there. Their entry had created a flutter, obviously. The staff didn't know what to do with a nude woman walking in for dinner.

After some hurried consultations at the captain's desk, they had been seated at a small corner table with comfortable chairs. Their server poured them glasses of water and asked for their choice of wine from a list.

The captain walked over, walking briskly. "Welcome to our restaurant! We hope you enjoy your meal." His eyes moved over Tilda's bare breasts and lingered on her nipples, standing stiff because of the air conditioning. "We're serving you our degustation menu, and you have already chosen the wine. Enjoy!"

Their server returned with hors d'oeuvres, placing the platter on the table and serving them. The captain brought over a bottle of wine, opening it and pouring it into two Burgundy glasses.

Justin stiffened. "What are they doing here?" he ejaculated.

Tilda grinned without turning around. "You didn't expect your girlfriend to let you have dinner with me and not keep an eye on things?" Justin was staring at her open-mouthed. "Who's with her?"

"Harper and Aurora." He lifted his hand to wave, then thought better of it. "How did you know Madison would be here?"

"She's your girlfriend and possessive by nature." Tilda picked up a hors d'oeuvre and took a bite. "Mmmm, these are great, Just. Have some before I finish them all."

Justin ate one whole and concurred with Tilda that the deliciousness was terrific. Tilda heard the scraping of chairs at the table nearest them. Obviously, Madison wanted to not only keep an eye on them but also monitor their conversation.

Their server returned with two bowls of soup. Justin was taken by surprise. "That was quick!" he exclaimed after the server had left. "I thought service was usually slow at these upmarket places."

Tilda grinned. "They're trying to get us out quickly, before their clientele arrives. Specifically, they want to get me out."

Justin leaned back, smiling with dawning comprehension. "Got it." He lowered his voice. "Madison is looking at us continuously. Dunno how long she's going to keep it up."

"That's good news for you, Just," Tilda comforted him. "Jealousy is the surest sign of true love."

"I don't think Madison does true love," said Justin. They were both keeping their voices low, aware of the three pairs of ears blatantly eavesdropping. "Let's just have our dinner. I'll crash on someone's couch tonight and try talking to her tomorrow."

"Oh, you're homeless tonight?" Tilda felt a twinge of sympathy. "My room has two twin beds and..."

"That's not going to help at all, and you know it." Justin smiled to take the edge off his words.

Tilda grinned and lifted her soup spoon to her mouth. "This smells so good, but I'll burn my mouth." She could hear furious whispers from the adjacent table but refrained from looking at Madison and her friends.

Justin wanted to talk to the interesting girl he was having dinner with, but Madison glaring at him from a few feet away inhibited him. He gulped and tried to consume his soup. Opposite him, Tilda seemed completely at ease with the situation, ignoring the three angry girls nearby.

They had not quite finished their soup when their server appeared with a platter. Your next course is whole roasted branzino. It's one of our chef's specialties." Deftly, she removed their soup bowls and served their plated fish.

The courses arrived more quickly than they would have liked, and they ate mostly in silence. The branzino was followed by a small salad which only Justin enjoyed.

"And your main course, our porchetta," announced their server, placing it on their table with a flourish. Tilda noticed that Madison and her friends were not being served and wondered if they had ordered anything.

"These portions are enormous," she murmured to Justin. "Should we offer some to our friends?"

"Let's not stimulate her, Tilda, please," said Justin. "I'm enjoying the food. It's really something."

"That's true." Tilda picked up her fork. Truthfully, she didn't mind the express speed service they were getting. Dinner guests would soon be entering the restaurant, and she wasn't looking forward to many strangers seeing her nude.

"For your cheese course, we have havarti and burrata," said their server as she placed a small platter on their table. "Our dessert today is pistachio cake, but you can also choose mango cheesecake."

Tilda heard loud whispering from the nearby table and guessed that Madison was getting agitated as their dinner progressed. Their chairs scraped back, and she sensed the three women walking away. Tilda was more concerned about a group of six men and women who had entered and were being seated at the other end of the restaurant.

"They're talking to the manager," reported Justin. "Man, she's furious. They're going to the women's room, but I can sense they're planning something."

"Ah?" asked Tilda. "What do you think they're likely to pull off in this place?"

"I don't know," said Justin, rubbing his chin. "But I've seen that look on her. She comes up with outrageous stuff."

Tilda was watching the new guests. They had not yet seen her across the width of the restaurant. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of them spotted her and informed the rest. To her dismay, she saw another couple enter and engage with the captain.

She turned her attention to Justin. "How about we vamoose before they come back with whatever they're planning?"

"You mean, just leave?" Justin was taken aback at the suggestion.

"We don't have a bill to pay, Just," she said, speaking slowly to give him time to absorb the idea. "And I'm not too keen on cake."

"Hey, that's right," Justin said. "Yeah, we don't have to settle up. But what'll we say to the guy at the door?"

"Use me as an excuse. Tell them I'm naked and lots of people are coming in." Tilda was watching the recent guests and saw that they were whispering and pointing at their table. "Do you have some cash for a tip? I don't have my purse."

"Yes, I do." Justin dropped notes on the table, and Tilda placed the pepper mill on them. They waved their server over, told her they wouldn't have the dessert, and left through the door of the restaurant which led onto an outdoor terrace.

* * *

They had entered the restaurant in daylight, but it was dark when they escaped. The terrace was an open-air cafe during the day but was not in use at this time. The light spilling from the windows was enough for Tilda and Justin to walk to the railing of the terrace.

"There should be stairs to go down," muttered Justin. "I saw them when we were at lunch near the pool." They walked along the railing in silence. "Ah, there."

Holding onto the banister, Tilda followed Justin down the stairs. A minute later, they were at a familiar spot -- the poolside tables where they'd had several meals. Their eyes had adapted to the dark by then, and the light from the half moon allowed them to walk without bumping into anything.

"Now what?" said Justin. "We're out at the pool. But they've put away the chairs."

"Well, we avoided whatever shock those three were planning," Tilda said, shrugging. "And we're at the back of the resort. All our group will be at the front for the campfire."

"I don't know why we ran," said Justin. "Damn! It'll be difficult to explain."

Tilda climbed up onto the larger table. "Well, it is done, and you can't reverse it. Going back in will need even more complex explanations." She let her body fall back onto the table and raised one knee. "This is so peaceful. No one ogling me and laughing at me because I got pranked nude."

"I am still ogling you." Justin stood over her, looking down at her smooth skin and marvelous breasts standing firm on her chest. Though the night was warm, her nipples were dark and long. "And delighting in the view."

Tilda waved a languid hand. "You don't count, Just. You've seen me nude for hours. It's strangers that bother me." Justin ran a finger upward from her thigh and stopped near the junction of her legs. "Oh, yes, we were somewhere here during tea when we had to stop."

Tilda looked up at Justin through half-closed eyes and offered him access by opening her legs slightly. Emboldened, Justin reached further and stroked her pussy lips. With no audience to fear, Tilda allowed herself a soft moan.

"That's why we stopped when we did," chuckled Justin. "You threatened me with moaning or worse."

"Well, there were people to fear then," said Tilda, arching her back as Justin reached through her slit and caressed her exquisitely sensitive labia minora. "Aaah!"

Justin moved closer to Tilda's hips to better reach her center. Using one hand to spread her labia, he felt with one finger of the other until he identified her engorged clitoris. Tilda gave a deep groan as confirmation of his find.

"Even in the dark, you're good at exploration," she murmured, closing her eyes. Tilda had been nude for hours now and, once the initial embarrassment had passed, had enjoyed being the center of attention. However, she fully understood Madison's intention to humiliate her before the entire wedding group.

The ding dong verbal jousting with Madison had assuaged her anger partially, but Tilda still felt she owed Madison something for the unpleasant prank. Justin being physically attractive and a pleasant companion contributed to the events unfolding currently.

She felt the hard wood below her and the breeze caressing her nude body. She felt Justin fondling her hungry passion point and let the stressful elements of the evening drop away. Her eyes closed as she felt a fire building deep inside her pussy and spreading through her belly.

"Tilda!" There was urgency in Justin's low voice. "Madison and the others are on the terrace. They've figured out we left from that door." Even as he spoke, Tilda could hear the three girls talking on the terrace they had recently left.

Tilda swung her legs off the table and stood, staggering slightly. Wordlessly, she pointed to a path that led into the resort gardens. The half moon provided barely enough light to see the way and avoid obstacles.

Tilda stumbled once on a rock embedded in the ground, and Justin put an arm around her waist to steady her. She smiled her thanks and continued walking with him. The resort path was wide enough for them to walk together.

The voices from the terrace faded away in the first minute of their walk, and they both relaxed as they drew deeper into the garden. There were a few bollard lights on the path, but placed at large and irregular distances. Justin slowed down after a few minutes and looked around.

"Do we know where we're going?" he said. "I don't know where this path leads, and you're not exactly dressed to reach a public place."

"I think we're on resort property, Just." Tilda continued walking, holding on to Justin. "I don't think we'll -- ah."

They'd come to a small clearing in the dense garden. It was surrounded by trees and tall shrubs, and the moonlight fell on the picnic table in the center.

Justin stood still and looked at Tilda, who had stepped ahead and now turned around to face him. Her naked, lush body gleamed in the moonlight, and he took a step towards her. With a hand around her body, he hesitated.

"Just now," she whispered, speaking into his chest. He shook his head, smiled, then enveloped her in his arms and kissed her upturned lips. "About time you got naked, too, isn't it?"

Justin wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it onto a bench. Tilda climbed onto the wooden table. By the time Justin had shed the last of his clothes, her inviting body was spread out before him.

Justin had been intermittently hard for hours. How could he not be with this spectacular specimen of womanhood naked with him? He held her ankles to give himself room between her thighs and moved into her.

Tilda's pussy was wet and slippery, and Justin slid in with only minimal resistance. She clenched her pelvic muscles, holding him prisoner. "Let me feel you a moment, Just."

He watched her lying on the table, her lovely, abundant breasts rising and falling as she breathed. After a long moment, she nodded, and Justin withdrew before thrusting into her again.

Their lovemaking was hungry and frantic. They had both been aroused and denied for too long for anything else. Tilda was not thinking about being seen by friends or strangers, and Justin was not thinking of his girlfriend. Again and again he drove into the lovely woman smiling at him, trying to hold himself until Tilda came.

Tilda didn't keep him waiting long. Being nude and the center of attention for hours and Justin's attentions to her pussy at tea and on the poolside table had left her in a state of frustrated arousal. Within minutes, her fists clenched, her eyes closed, and she gave a series of small cries as her orgasm engulfed her.

Justin watched her fingers trying to gouge the table and felt her pussy rhythmically clench and relax on his penis. He slowed his stroking to allow her to enjoy her climax. As he sensed it winding down, he accelerated and let his own climax burst. Her pussy rapidly filled with his love juice, and Tilda felt it flowing down her thighs.

Justin pulled out of her reluctantly. Emotionally and physically spent for the moment, he sank onto the bench. His penis was dripping with Tilda's pussy juices and his own produce, and he picked up his pants and found a handkerchief in a pocket.

Tilda looked up at the sky for a few moments while her breathing returned to normal. "You did great, Just." She sat up on top of the table and looked at Justin to see him giving her a bashful smile.

"I... I don't know what to say, Tilda," he said, shaking his head in wonder. "This was the most exciting thing I've done. Taking you to dinner nude, and then sex in the open in this garden, and the moon, and..." He broke off. "And you're so superlatively lovely! I can hardly believe it."

"I've had a good time, too," Tilda said softly. "The afternoon and evening could have gone so badly." She paused. "It was meant to be ugly. But you were so nice to me." She leaned forward and kissed him.

"Madison was mean," he said, slowly. "That wasn't a nice prank. It was meant to embarrass you in public." He grinned and leaned forward for another soft kiss. "But you handled it like a queen."

"He, he, he," she giggled. "With a little help from my friends. Madison may be a mean girl, but I'm a mean median mode girl."

Justin wondered if he'd become an object in a game between two determined girls. Then he looked at Tilda smiling gently at him and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Leaning back a little, he ran his eyes over the nude woman's bountiful curves and felt a stirring in his dick.

"Should we be getting back?" he asked, looking at the path. "You must be cold."

"It was cold in the restaurant," Tilda said. "This is comfortable. I'm glad Gisele didn't have her wedding in winter."

"That's true. We couldn't have done this." He waved at the table where they had just had sex. "Well, shall we go?"

"A little later, Just." She answered his questioning gaze. "I don't want to meet any of our group right now. Once they start the campfire, I can sneak into my room."

Justin nodded. "Have you always lived in Belleville?" he asked. He realized he'd spent a dinner date with Tilda and had sex with her without learning anything about her.

"Yes, I grew up there. Gisele and I went to the same high school. Then she went to UI at Springfield."

"Yes, I know." Justin leaned forward and ran his finger up her leg and thigh. "So what do you do, Tilda?"

"I have a job with Reinsurance Group in St. Louis." She grinned. "I'd tell you more about my job, but you might fall asleep."

"So you've been in St. Louis for your job?"

"Before that. WashU for college." Tilda looked at him with amusement. "How about you, Just? When you're not best man, what do you do?"

"Dad has a pharmaceutical company. I'm rotating through various departments right now."

"Ah, I see. Your dad is preparing his heir."

Justin shrugged. "Not much choice for me. I graduated with a business management major. UI at Chicago."

"So you've always lived in Chicago?" Tilda slipped off the table and joined Justin on the bench.

"Yeah, pretty much. Our family travels a lot, but home has always been Chicago." He became aware of the warm nude woman snuggling up to him and felt his dick stir. "So what was your major?"

"Statistics and data science." Tilda usually avoided talking about it. "Double major."

"And with that you work for a major insurer." Justin's voice had newfound respect. "I'd no idea."

"It's a job, Just. Nine to five, salary regularly." She turned her face up to him with lips parted, and Justin took the offer. "Hey! You're almost ready to go again!"

Tilda's hand had crept along Justin's thigh and found his hardening dick. "This is an absolutely amazing love tool you have, Just!"

"Uh, it's about average, I think. Nothing special." He was coming to full erection in her grip, and truthfully was surprised by how soon it had happened.

"An inch here or there doesn't matter, Just!" Tilda was moving her hand up and down his shaft now. "But a turbo recharge dick! Now that's something."

"So you're not a size queen?" Justin asked. He'd always been mindful of not being well-endowed.

"For a working girl," Tilda said patiently, "a guy that gets hard quickly is the difference between one round and two in lunch break."

Justin stared at her. "Are you kidding me?"

"It makes all the difference between a satisfying double-header and a miserable one and done." Tilda turned around on the bench. "A cheerful, productive second half versus a lethargic, regretful one. Here, stand up."

Tilda kissed the end of his stiff dick before lifting it up to run her lips up and down the underside. By the time she took him into her mouth, Justin was already rock hard and throbbing. He reveled in the feeling of his sensitive glans being rubbed by her tongue inside the warmth of her mouth.

A minute later, she leaned back, relinquishing his dick. She shook it up and down in her hand before grinning and turning to lean over the table. "Get in me!"

Justin gripped her hips and fumbled for a moment before sliding into her again. For long minutes he thrust in and out of Tilda, enjoying the feel of her tight, hot canal on his organ, his hands on her firm hips, and the sounds of pleasure escaping her mouth. Then she gave out a low squeal of joy as another orgasm took her, and Justin again felt her pussy contracting and loosening on his dick.

Justin took up the rhythm again as she relaxed onto the tabletop, and finished with a deep groan as he emptied himself into her. He tried to recall if he had ever had sex twice in such quick succession. A deep lethargy came over him, and he rested his hands on the table on either side of Tilda's body to avoid crushing her.

Later, they sat side by side on the table with their feet on a bench. The garden was quiet, and faintly from afar they heard the sounds of a guitar being played near a microphone. Tilda leaned against Justin's shoulder as he put his arm around her.

"I can hear the campfire sounds," he murmured. "And we've had a double-header."

She punched his shoulder before hopping off the table. He sorted his clothes on the bench and held out the shirt to her. Gratefully, Tilda slipped her arms into it and started on the buttons.

He put his arm around her again as they walked back along the path.

* * *

Thank you for reading my story. I appreciate your comments and suggestions below. Please take a moment to vote on the stars, too!