“Belinda, you can drink whatever you like,” I assured her. “No one’s going to be insulted.”
“Yeah, this is a little much,” she admitted, laughing. “I don’t want to get too drunk if we’re going to be having sex in here.”
“You guys are serious about that?” asked Franklin.
“Well, it’s my fantasy, so I definitely was,” I said.
“I can run up to the room to see if there are more condoms, but I think we were out. Is there a drug store nearby?” asked Miles.
“Don’t bother,” said Belinda. “We don’t need them now. I’m on the Pill and we’re in a relationship.”
“Just when I didn’t think you could up the ante more,” laughed Franklin. “All right— I’m game.”
“You’re sure they can’t see us?” asked Belinda.
“Positive,” I assured. “Let me just lock the door and we’ll begin.”
“Anything else in this fantasy we need to know?” asked Miles.
“Oh, I’d like to make sure I cum with Belinda against the glass,” I said. “I want to watch the public as I get off.”
“That doesn’t sound half bad!” admitted Franklin.
“Whatever you guys want,” Belinda said, smiling happily. “Your wish is my command. Because the three of you have made me feel like the luckiest lady in the whole world.”
“And you’ve made each of us feel like the happiest man alive,” I said, as the others nodded in agreement.
It was unanimous. We would live happily ever after. Right after we had some kinky, semi-public sex.
Thank you for reading and for your support.
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Chapter 1 - Rebekah
It’s my first day in Miami for Spring Break, with Brett. I look around at the beach-side tiki bar and the scantily clad students on the beach and I can’t believe I’m here. I mean, technically, I belong here, in that it’s Spring Break, and I’m a student. But in many other ways, I don’t.
I was raised in a fundamental religion, or what some people would call a cult. My parents were very over-protective and there were a lot of restrictions on what I was allowed and not allowed to do. For instance, I couldn’t cut my hair. I had to wear a skirt that covered at least my knees and preferably my ankles. I couldn’t even wear shirts that were sleeveless or too low-cut.
And of course I couldn’t drink alcohol or party. I was to be a modest and honorable woman at all times. And here I am wearing a bathing suit and sipping a wine cooler, watching a group of guys shotgun a beer and a group of girls throwing their bikini tops into the sand as they run topless into the waves.
“What do you think?” asks Brett, as he reaches over to rub sunscreen on my shoulders.
I’m staring at his broad, tanned chest and I can’t help but blush. I wish that Brett was a member of my religion so that we could get married. We’re already good friends and that’s what a marriage is based on. Plus, I’m not supposed to have sex until marriage, and I would love to have sex with Brett.
“I think I’m going straight to hell in a handbasket,” I tell him, legitimately afraid of this possibility, but he just shrugs his muscular shoulders and shakes his handsome head, which is full of features— blue eyes and blonde hair— that make him look like a real-life Ken doll.
“Oh, Rebekah, you need to lighten up,” he says, playfully, but I can tell that there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“I already have!” I protest, wanting him to give me the credit that I feel I’m due.
Ever since meeting Brett in my chemistry course, I’ve relaxed my standards and tried new things. He’s an atheist and believes that religion is harmful. (“Look how sexist and repressive your environment was when you were growing up,” he says, in what he maintains is proof of his argument.) He’s also what he calls a “hedonist”— believing that people should live in the moment, live for themselves and live for what they find pleasurable.
I guess that there couldn’t be two people with more opposing viewpoints but for some reason Brett and I just instantly hit it off. When we first met, I had just transferred to Cornell from the Christian school near my hometown in upstate New York, because I found the courses ridiculously easy and beneath me.
My parents didn’t approve of my attending a secular school, and they tried to get me to stay at the backwards religious school I had been at by saying they wouldn’t pay the expensive Cornell tuition. But I’d gotten a full ride scholarship based on my GPA and test scores, so they didn’t have a say in the matter. Except that their next move was to disown me for the unforgivable sin of attending a secular college.
I can only imagine what they would do if they knew I was here on the beach with Brett and his frat brothers. I guess they’ll never know, though, since the only thing I hear from them are the sobbing prayers my mother leaves on my voicemail in the middle of the night when she knows I’m sleeping.
I can’t help but think that since I’ve already disgraced my parents to the point of disavowment, I might as well live it up a little. Brett’s right— it’s time I have some fun, and isn’t that what Spring Break is for?
Chapter 2 - Rebekah
Now’s the time to enjoy Spring Break with Brett, since he’s a senior and it’s his last one, even though it’s my first one. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him next year. He’s pretty much my only friend at Cornell or in the world, except for some of my friends from my small town back home, who didn’t go to college and are already married with a baby or two.
Needless to say, when I arrived at Cornell I was in a bit of a depression, and none of the sophomores wanted to hear about it, because they had already had time to form their cliques as freshmen while I was sheltered away at my first college. I was glad to have found Brett— not just because I needed a friend, but also because he was a super hot, and really fun, one to have.
After meeting Brett, I started to experiment in what my parents would call “the ways of the world.” I got a haircut at a salon for students in training to save money, but it still looks pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Brett also gave me some of his sister’s clothes to wear, and for the first time ever I’ve been sporting jeans and tanks tops and even some shorts. I bought this one-piece that I’m wearing today at Target, because I could never imagine wearing a bikini, and even this bathing suit makes me feel self-conscious.
When Brett told me to come to Spring Break in Miami with him, I told him right away that I didn’t have the money for that. So, then he told me he would pay for me, because his parents are mega rich. Brett’s not the brightest student at the school and I have to help him a lot in chemistry and other classes. But his parents are alumni and donate generously.
Brett is super rich— billionaire style rich. So, it was no skin off his handsome back to pay my way. Especially when it was coming from his parents’ account.
I was afraid to go on Spring Break, but he told me it was time to face my fears and let go of my inhibitions. He said it would be a trip of a lifetime and basically begged me to come with him, saying that this would be our last chance to do Spring Break together. He’s headed to law school at Berkeley in the fall. So, I agreed to come, and even though I feel like a fish out of water, I’m happy to be experiencing new things with Brett.
“I think you should try this,” Brett says now, passing me a fancy glass full of yellow and pink liquid mixed together.
“What’s in it?” I eye it suspiciously.
“Just try it.”
I take a sip and it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it’s quite good.
“Yum!” I gulp it down pretty fast.
“That’s the spirit,” Brett laughs, and motions to the waitress to bring us two more d
rinks.
“So, what’s in it?” I ask him.
“Who knows? We’ll just call it a Miami Mystery Drink.”
I laugh along with him, and he gets serious on me, moving my hair out of my eyes and then staring deeply into them.
“Rebekah, I’m so glad you came with me on this trip. And that you’re breaking out of your shell. You are such a beautiful, adventurous soul, if only you let yourself be you. And I think we’ll have the trip of a lifetime.”
“Me too,” I tell him, and I mean it, as I down the rest of the drink, just in time for another one to appear in front of me.
I gulp that one down, too, starting to feel super drowsy. I don’t even care, because this feels like the perfect place to fall asleep and dream, since my reality is already so amazing here.
Chapter 3 - Brett
As Rebekah naps in the lounge chair, all my frat brothers can’t help but stare.
“She’s a real hottie,” Drew says, elbowing me. “You gonna share her with us? Your brothers through thick and thin?”
“Hey now,” I warn him. “Bekah and I are just friends.”
“Sure,” Drew says, rolling his eyes. “Famous last words.”
“It’s true,” I protest. “She’s so innocent and pure. Super fucking religious, too. I’m surprised I even got her to come on this trip with me. She’s saving it for marriage.”
“That’s what they all say,” Mark says, sidling up beside us and looking over at Rebekah. “But I saw the way she looks at you. She wants you, bad.”
“You think so?” I ask.
I’m flattered. I figured that my rich party boy ways would be a turn off to a girl like Rebekah. I really do think of her as innocent and pure. And fucking hot as hell. She likes to hide her curves in those conservative clothes of hers, but I can still tell she’s got a nice juicy ass and ample tits.
“Sure,” says Ainsley, who has also joined the conversation, uninvited.
“So, I’ll ask again, are you gonna share?” Drew repeats.
“Yeah, come on,” Mark chimes in. “We’re fraternity brothers. We share everything.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“Come on guys, not our women…” I start to protest.
But they’re already drowning me out, by telling me their own fantasies they’ve been having of Rebekah. It’s clear they think she’s just as hot as I do. I begin to worry that I have some competition.
I think back to the first time I ever met Bekah, on campus when she was asking where the quad was. In her long skirt and braided hair, she looked like a fish out of water— a smoking hot fish, at that— and I was happy to reel her in.
But she wasn’t the type of girl to give it up right away. And as soon as I got to know her, I felt it would be wrong to ruin such a delicate flower with my normal playboy ways. I treated her as a friend and a friend only.
The problem is, my friendship with her seems to ruin all my other chances just because of the fact that she is always up in my fucking head too much. I can’t look at any other girls the same way I look at Bekah.
It’s like I’m fucking possessed or something. Or maybe obsessed would be more like it.
When I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m way into Bekah. I had just been trying to deny it. And here are my frat brothers openly admitting they want to get with her.
What kind of pussy ass beta male have I been being acting like? I can’t help but think now. Why haven’t I jumped on this opportunity earlier?
I guess the answer is that I never knew the opportunity was there. But the guys are right— Bekah has been sending me strong signals all day. Or more like ever since we first met. Sure, she’s played it cool and stuck to her values, but I bet if I tried to jump her bones, she’d let me.
She probably has a bad girl lurking just inside that good girl, waiting for me to draw her out. It’s time to act on my desires. But I can’t believe my frat brothers really want me to share her. That would be taking things just a little too far… wouldn’t it be?
Suddenly, I notice that some kind of event has been being set up all around us on the beach while we’ve been talking. A woman dressed in some fancy evening dress— which is fucking weird, to see on the beach— and some men wearing suits are starting to sit down at some tables they had brought onto the beach. They’re wooden and look like wedding reception tables.
“What the hell is this?” Drew asks, as if reading my mind.
“Are we crashing some kind of wedding party?” I ask, looking around for the bride and groom.
Instead, lots of people are gathering around, some dressed as fancy as the first few people I noticed, and others in beachwear like we are. They’re talking loudly and having a great time.
“You’re not crashing it,” says the woman in the evening dress, walking over to us.
Fuck. She heard us, I think. What the hell is going on?
“My name is Eve. And you’re welcome to participate in our event,” she says. “If you have the money, that is.”
“Money?” Ainsley says, puffing his chest out.
Ainsley father is an oil tycoon and he’s made of money— he doesn’t let anyone forget it, either. I do quite well for myself, too, since my family is nearly as rich as his, but I don’t like to flaunt it as much.
“Of course we have money,” Ainsley tells Eve. “What is this event you’re inviting us to, and saying we can only participate in if the price is right?”
“It’s an auction,” Eve says, raising her eyebrows as if challenging us to a dare. “Where beautiful women sell anything they’d like to rich and handsome men.”
“Hmmm,” Mark says.
While everyone else is looking at all the other many women who are starting to line up in the sand, the four of us are all glancing in Rebekah’s direction.
“We’ll think about it,” he tells Eve, and she says, “Sure, I just wouldn’t want you boys to miss out,” as she goes back over to the center of the action being set up at the event.
“You think this’ll get her out of her shell even more?” Drew asks, slightly pointing at a still sleeping Rebekah. “Maybe we could all bid on her and see which lucky guy wins.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Ainsley replies. “Why would we participate in this— auction thing— when we could just pay her ourselves? Or maybe even not pay her and still be with her?”
“I don’t know,” says Drew. “But the allure of being wanted and bid on by a bunch of powerful men could be pretty intoxicating for her. And maybe she’ll be wanting us to win her so that no old creep does.”
He looks around at the guys on the beach— some of them are not at all attractive, that’s for fucking sure.
“It’s only fair that I should win her,” I say, staking my claim. “I’ve been her friend for a long time now.”
“Yeah and we see how quick you’ve been to claim her,” Ainsley says, with a sarcastic laugh. “You snooze you lose, buddy. It’s our turn now.”
“Well, may the best man win,” Mark announces,, as if wanting to avoid a fight breaking out between Ainsley and me. “So, we’ll just see who that is.”
“Maybe we could all win,” Drew says thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
“I think we should just let the lady decide,” I say, as I notice Rebekah begin to stir.
“Fair enough,” Ainsley agrees. “We’ll see what happens. This could be a very exciting Spring Break indeed.”
Chapter 4 - Rebekah
Several Miami Mystery Drinks in, I’d apparently dozed off. I wake up from a mini-nap on the lounge chair, feeling less inhibited and definitely like more of the “adventurous spirit” or whatever Brett had called me earlier. Speaking of Brett, where the heck is he?
There’s some sort of event that has formed on the beach, with a lot of good looking girls milling around. I finally spot Brett and some of his fraternity brothers on the beach, near where some tall, Amazon-looking athletic girls wearing string bikinis are hanging out.
>
I feel a sting of jealousy like I’ve never felt before. Woah, those drinks must have really hit me, I think.
“Hey Brett! Hey Brett! Come here,” I call to him. I’m aware that I sound… different… tipsy, I guess… but I don’t care. I’m just letting loose and having fun.
Brett jogs over to me in the sand, his toned body glistening in the sun.
“What’s up, Bekah-Cup?”
I pause at the nickname. He’d only used it once before, in my dorm, when we were watching a romcom and I really thought he was going to kiss me.
He hadn’t— he’s always shown the utmost respect for me, even though sometimes I’ve wanted him to kiss me— but I swear he’d been really close. But now he’s grinning at me in a less intimate manner— a fun manner— and my spirits return to their alcohol-drenched fun state.
“Oh, nothing,” I say, feeling kind of silly, but not wanting him to leave me and go back to where the scantily clad girls stood around on the beach, waiting for whatever event was going on to get started. “As I was napping, I was just listening to a recommended mix on the Spotify app you downloaded for me, and guess what song came on just now as I woke up?”
“Which one?” he asks, with a half-grin, amused at my apparently quite obvious drunken state.
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