CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: THE HOTEL The rest of the drive to the resort was uneventful. An awkward silence pervaded the interior of the van as "Frick" continued to glance nervously out the window, shifting slightly in his cum-soaked shorts; "Frack" stared bullets at Christine; and Jean-Claude and Chris exchanged shy smiles. The driver's voice announcing their arrival at the resort startled all of them. As they passed through the gate at the head of the complex, Chris was dumbstruck by the sheer size of the place. The main hotel building, at least twenty stories tall, was just a small part of the overall resort; it took several minutes to reach it from the gate. There were smaller bungalows scattered throughout areas so densely vegetated that they could be called mini- jungles. A large golf course dominated a large section; tennis courts and what appeared to be a small shopping center/swimming pool/spa combination sprawled across another. The beach was not yet visible, but Chris figured it must be huge. The group split up as soon as they went through the gigantic revolving door at the main entrance. Chris located a restroom in the lobby and used the opportunity to express a little milk (her verbal sparring with Jean- Claude had gotten her quite excited) and change tank tops. She then checked in, made arrangements to be taken back to Montego Bay that night for Jonah's party, and rode the elevator up to her room. She keyed the door, stepped in, and immediately squealed with pleasure. Her room was actually a suite, a thousand square feet at least, furnished with every amenity a hedonist could ever want -- far too many luxurious appointments to list here. "Way to go, Sherri," Chris said aloud. "Jeremy's going to shit a brick when he sees the bill." Her luggage arrived at her suite moments later, and she busied herself with unpacking. She stopped to take a break and walked out onto the huge balcony that extended the length of both the main sitting room and the adjoining bedroom. She was immediately struck by the architecture of the hotel. The building was reminiscent of a Mayan pyramid, with each successive floor smaller than the one below it. Chris was on one of the top floors, so the rest of the building spread out below her. The beach lay beyond a dense grove of palm trees; only a faint strip of blue ocean was visible above it. The building was also vaguely horseshoe-shaped, with her suite located at the bottom of the "U", so she could see most of this side of the it. The balconies were positioned along each floor so they were not stacked one above the other. In this way it was possible for her to look down upon most of the balconies on this side of the hotel. Not much privacy that way, thought Chris. Did the designers do that on purpose, so that people could see each other? This is a singles resort, after all. The idea is to meet lots of people... Unconsciously she began scanning along the building, looking for fellow guests. She was curious about what kinds of people frequented a resort like this. She knew that she probably wouldn't have picked this place on her own. It was only because Sherri had convinced her to choose a location more or less at random, and then had made all the arrangements herself, that Chris was here at all. Still, she felt the visceral thrill associated with knowing that practically anything she did here would be a new adventure for her, and after all, wasn't that what had essentially driven her entire existence, at least ever since The Accident had opened new sensual vistas for her? Live it up, she told herself. You're on vacation. You're here to get rested, get drunk, get laid, get tanned, get away, get pampered, get laid...did I say "get laid" twice? Guess that says a lot for my priorities. Time's a-wastin', girl. Might as well start sending out signals now. Chris went back into the sitting room and over to the bureau, upon which sat a bowl brimming with fresh tropical fruit and an ice bucket with a small bottle of champagne in it. She popped a wedge of passion fruit (how appropriate, she thought) into her mouth, opened the champagne, poured a glass, then blithely stepped out of her clothes and walked stark raving gloriously naked back out onto the balcony. The hot sun felt good on her skin and was reflected back in the highlights of her hair, in the drops of sweat that began to appear on her forehead, and in the drops of milk that began to appear at the tips of her long, hard nipples. She squinted upward, looking at the undersides of the balconies above her, actually hoping that someone -- male or female, didn't matter which -- would see her standing there broadcasting her availability and shout a greeting. She was too near the top floors, though; there weren't very many rooms above her, and what few there were appeared empty. "Still, how's this for brazen?" Chris said softly. "God, sometimes I wonder if there's any end to what my crazy mixed-up glands will drive me to do." She chuckled to herself. "Jeremy would go ape-shit if he could see me now." She sipped at her champagne, then playfully dribbled some on her nipples. The cold carbonation teased them, and they stiffened even more and began to leak again. A faint shriek snapped her out of her daydream. Her eyes swung around, seeking the source. It was a female voice, and the sound was not one of fear or pain, but of surprised ecstasy. Chris glanced across the length and breadth of the building, but could see nothing. Another noise, this time a delighted giggle, the same voice. Now Chris could zero in on it. She tracked it to a balcony two floors below and to the left of her, and what she saw almost made her drop her glass. A broad, tanned, muscular back first greeted her sight. When her brain next allowed her eyes to move, she saw that it belonged to a nude male who was supine over an equally nude female in the classic missionary position. The woman's long blond hair spilled out across the lawn chair she was splayed across; her large breasts moving like gelatin molds on the San Andreas during a 7.5. Her lover pounded away at her like a jackhammer. She had three fingers of one hand in her mouth, sucking on them like they were a cock, occasionally screeching in pleasure as he hit her clit a certain way. Boy her voice carries, Chris thought absently through her growing arousal. She could see sunlight reflecting off the man's wet rod as it momentarily appeared from the depths of the woman's pussy. She saw her legs come up and her heels press down on his buttocks, pushing him deeper inside. He drove on and on for what seemed like forever as Chris watched the woman come once, twice, thrice in rapid succession. Chris felt her own thighs becoming slick with juice as her cunt pulsed in response to what she was witnessing. She was barely aware of the warm twin trickles of white that careened from her nipples down along the undersides of her swollen breasts and along her stomach to be funneled by the V of her crotch into a single stream that flowed down along her hairless labia to mix with the nectar issuing therefrom. Absently, she reached for a nipple, tugged it gently, and promptly exploded in a surprisingly sudden orgasm. Fluids gushed in multiple fountains from her body, splashing on the balcony floor and arcing out like twin shower heads into the warm Jamaican afternoon. Chris felt her thighs trembling and, fearing a repeat of the incident on the Mermaid, threw both hands out to steady herself on the balcony railing. In so doing, she flung her champagne glass over the side. Chris yelped and tried to catch it, but it fell and shattered against the sloping wall of the building below. Chris's yelp and the sound of breaking glass were enough to distract the couple sufficiently for them to stop their wild fucking and look upward, right into Chris's eyes. She was mortified, but managed to smile weakly and wave to them. She was surprised when they both smiled broadly and waved back. "Hello up there!" the man yelled. "Hi," Chris shouted back, though not nearly as heartily. "I'm terribly sorry if I disturbed you." "Far from it!" the woman said. "I was hoping somebody was watching. We're really into that!" "Did you enjoy it?" the man asked. "Well, now that you've caught me, I might as well confess. Yes, I did. That was really amazing." Chris was blushing right down to her nipples. "Say, you're really fantastic looking," the man said. "Do you walk around naked all the time?" Boy, people don't mince words at this place, thought Chris. He did have her dead to rights, though, completely nude and playing Peeping Thomasina. "No, I really don't," she said. "Something about this place really makes you lose your inhibitions." "You said it!" the woman shouted. "I've been here a week, and already I've done shit I wouldn't have dreamed about back in Baltimore!" "Hey, you want to join us?" the man said, his erection beginning to return. "Maybe another time, OK?" "No problem! See you later!" With that, Chris was dismissed. The two turned to each other and fell to it again, as if Chris had never interrupted them at all. Chris watched for another few minutes in total amazement. As she watched the man penetrate the woman anally while she drove a buzzing golden vibrator in and out of her cunt, one thought repeated itself over and over in her head: I'm really going to enjoy myself here.