The resort would put a five star hotel to shame. Everything was exquisite. Even the walkways which were trod primarily by naked feet were swept twice a day and blanketed in flower petals. Because of the “no butt juice on furniture” rule, those of us who were either by choice or by rule nude, wore a headscarf or waist scarf of some type so that it could be used as a barrier between our bottoms and the delightfully expensive furniture. Sometimes, J simply insisted that I either kneel or sit on the ground, floor, or sand depending upon our location.

As with many resorts, there were games. Each morning, it was “Whose hand Is It?” Those which to be the “bottom” would bend over on the low fence surrounding one of the pools. Then, the “Hand” would have one opportunity to wallop the bottom in order to leave a distinctive hand print. Naturally, it was encouraged that couples mingle. A judge was chosen – sometimes several – and then had to match the handprint with the bottom. The winning Hand was awarded a bottle of champagne and a specially tooled leather paddle which, hopefully, could be shared with said bottom.

Jeremiah was thrilled, not only with the bottle, but also with my humiliation at the hand of another woman. He came to me, still bend over the rail, and said, “Worship.”

I’d have happily accepted 12 more stings as bad or worse than the one that now graced my ass for this. to be able to worship his cock in front of an appreciative crowd – Yes, Please! By the time he thrust himself deeply down my throat and awarded me the only breakfast I ever truly desired, I had come three times. Applause ensued, along with catcalls of “Don’t leave her hanging” and “Need a hand with taking care of her?”

To my shock, he answered, “Yes, actually. She’s drained me. You, slip on a condom and take care of her. It would be ungentlemanly of me not to see to her needs.” Then he murmured, “Even though she’s obviously enjoyed herself.”

I looked up at him, questioningly. It had been a very long time since he had shared me. He smiled and nodded. That was all the encouragement I needed. My cheeks were parted and a large glob of cold lube was pressed into my ass. THIS I had not expected.

Jeremiah leaned down and whispered, “Your pussy and your ass are mine, A. I WILL use them or see them used as I please.”

A cock three times Jeremiah’s slammed into my back door. I screamed and pressed my hands firmly against the ground. To my shame and J’s pride, I came immediately, quivering and trembling and moaning. My thighs were coated by a fresh coating of honey. Over and over again the man slammed into me, Jeremiah encouraging both him and me at the same time. By the time the man finished, I was liquid, unable to stand on my own. Jeremiah came around behind me and gathered me onto his lap. I thanked him, kissed his neck, then slid down to lie with my head in his lap.

Well, what else is a girl to do with her favorite cock right at mouth level? To a round of applause, J once again achieve an impressive state. I wasted no time in climbing on top of him. As soon as his cock touched my well primed tunnel, I again screamed out my pleasure. He slapped my ass as I rode him. Exhaustion set in, but still he whipped my well tended bottom until he too joined me in waves of pleasure.

We lay beside each other until a waiter appeared above us. “Pardon me, but the couple on the other side of pool sent this over for you along with their appreciation.”

I looked at the tray and burst out laughing. Two bottles of water, two champagne flutes, and a plate of fruit, cheese, honey, and crackers. We toasted them, and decided that there was no better way to begin a morning.