Hope that the help desk can give you a towel

You’re so close to ending this humiliating exposure. You take a deep breath and walk past the bathrooms, making a beeline for the help desk and desperately trying to ignore the eyes that are following you across the beach.

You’re so focused on your destination that you almost collide with the woman who emerges from around the corner of the showers.

You open your mouth to apologize, but the words catch in your throat at the sight of her. What first catches your attention about her is that she is the only fully clothed person you’ve seen on this beach. Despite how embarrassed you are, you can’t help but be a little disappointed that she isn’t naked. She stands a couple inches taller than you and before you can stop yourself, your eyes travel over the delicious curves of her body that her outfit struggles to contain. She’s wearing a pair of red spandex shorts that are short and tight on her, and a low-cut white top. When you see the logo of the company that manages the resort on the shirt, you understand why she’s clothed.

She’s an employee. This was exactly who you were hoping would be able to help you find a towel. But you wished you hadn’t found an employee who looked like a supermodel.

“Buongiorno,” you say to her, reverting back to the only Italian you know.

The woman gives you a soft smile as she looks down on you through a pair of heavy, dark sunglasses. “Buongiorno,” she said. “Come ti chiami?”

You clear your throat and take a step back, finding yourself a bit intimidated by the woman blocking your path.

“Sorry, I ah don’t speak much Italian.”

The woman moves a lock of blonde hair aside so she can slowly remove her sunglasses. Once they’re off, she tucks them into the front of her shirt, making her top even more low-cut than it was before. “What is your name?” She speaks English with a strong Italian accent.

“Sam,” you say, struggling not to look at her cleavage. Somehow, the sight of this woman has made you forget about all the other naked woman around you. “And your name is?”

The woman half laughed at the question. “Bianca,” she said. “Are you a guest of one of our villas, Sam?”

“I am.” You run a hand through your wet hair to move it to the side in an attempt to appear at ease, but as you do it, Bianca’s eyes gently travel down your body. As her green eyes drifted over you, your hand involuntarily shot back to your side. You barely manage to suppress the desire to hide your crotch. She smiles at your reaction and you began talking again. “I, uh, I just checked in today, in fact. Thought I’d check out the beach.”

“Do you know what day it is today, Sam?” Bianca crossed her arms as she asked the question. If she did it to draw more attention to her enormous chest, it was working.

“Today?” you ask. “Um, it’s Thursday. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” she said. “If you were a guest here at the villas, you would know that on Thursday, no men are allowed on the clothing-optional beach.”

“No men are allowed on...” You trail off and your eyes bulge as you realize the implication of what she was saying.

“Yes,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Today is for women only.”

Instantly, everything made sense. All of the attention you were getting. All of the surprised laughs. All of the finger wagging. And, above all, the number of young, beautiful women that surrounded you.

You turned around to find that several of those women had gathered closer and were giggling with anticipation for that moment of realization to hit you. As you faced them, they could see in your eyes that you had finally figured it out.

You had done your best to maintain your composure over the last few minutes, but at that moment your humiliation was too much to handle. You gasp as you crouch and throw your hands over your dick. You look from face to face as the women’s giggling turns into full laughter. Some of them had put on towels before walking up to you, but a few of them did not mind remaining naked as they taunted the shy American college boy. You feel someone pinch your ass and you leap forward, surprised by the sudden pain. You turn around awkwardly, still struggling to cover yourself with your hands and see that the culprit was the first sunbather you had walked past.

“Buongiorno!” she says, quoting the line you had used on her earlier. She had not bothered to bring her towel with her, and her breasts shook as she laughed. Her friend leaned on her shoulder and said “Buongiorno, Sam!” while waving at you. Before long, all of the women are saying “Buongiorno, Sam!” at you while you spin in every direction. You had felt so suave a minute ago when you spoke Italian. But now, as a group of women used your words to taunt you, your cheeks burned red.

"I had no idea!" you say to Bianca. "I didn't know men couldn't come here today."

Bianca shrugged. She seemed to be struggling to suppress a smile. "There are signs on the entrances. In English and Italian. You could not have missed them."

"I, uh, I-"

"This same thing happened last week," Bianca said. "It was another American... how do you say... frat boy. The reason he did not see the signs was because he did not use the entrances. He snuck onto the beach so he could trespass while female guests tried to enjoy their privacy."

"Bianca. Ma'am. I swear this is all a big misunderstanding."

Bianca shrugs. "I'm sorry, Sam. But if you are trespassing, I have **** but to..." she bites her lip and eyes your body before saying, "remove you from the premises."

You gulp. The only way off the premises is through the other beach. That would mean being dragged naked by this beautiful woman past Erica, her sorority sisters, and god knows how many strangers.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Bianca moves closer to you. "But if you have been a naughty boy, I have to punish you."