Prelude

"You're going to where that on the trip?"

It seemed innocent in my head, but as the words were coming out of my mouth, I knew that it wasn't going to sound the way I had intended it to. I was talking about a flimsy red bikini that my girlfriend, Chelsea, had been excited to show me. It wasn't that I found the bikini offensive in any form. It wasn't that she didn't look good in it - she looked damn good in it, in fact. It was more that Chelsea had always been much more conservative in what she wore, especially around our friends and especially around the girls that were going on this week-long beach vacation with us - Lisa, Ariel, and Lauren.

Lisa was Chelsea's oldest friend. They met in 3rd grade and had been best friends ever since. They joined the same clubs, and even tried the same sports until Lisa realized she wasn't the athletic type. They were also roommates three of the four years at Northern State University. They were inseparable and, unfortunately, that meant that Chelsea had put up with years of hearing people refer to Lisa as "the hot one". She was short, tan, and impossibly curvy. Her thick legs opened up to wide hips that sucked back in and blew right back out to carry one of the biggest sets of natural breasts I'd ever seen. I could spend the next ten paragraphs describing them even though I'd only had the pleasure of glimpsing them in a bra or bikini on a handful of occasions but, to keep this short, let's just say they're spectacular.

Ariel, another one of Chelsea's long-time friends, was the opposite - a tall, slender frame standing on long, slender legs with slim hips, small, but noticeably perky breasts and, this might sound weird, but beautiful shoulders. I always found shoulders to be one of the more underappreciated parts of a women's body and Ariel's were perfect. She had long, flowing red hair and bright blue eyes, all of which popped against her pale skin. To say she was cute or adorable would be a disservice to her. She was beautiful - the kind of beautiful you didn't recognize as a teenager but became more appreciated as we matured. She was more reserved than Lisa and usually spent most our time together slapping her husband, Robert, for his increasingly inappropriate jokes, but once she got a few drinks in her, she tended to loosen up a bit.

Lauren was the newest girl to the group. She was Chelsea's roommate freshman year and, while they seemed like two people who would clash and have constant blowouts, they actually gelled and got along perfectly enough for her to room with Cheslea and Lisa for the next three years as well. While Lisa and Ariel were more of what men found they ultimately desired, Lauren was who men would say off the top of their head if you asked them what they found attractive. She was an ex-cheerleader who quit halfway through college after going through a growth spurt, springing up from a tiny 5'-0" to an above-average 5'-6". She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a lower body you'd expect from someone who had been a competitive cheerleader for over a decade. The one thing that guys used to complain about (not me, for the record), was her flat chest. She changed that very recently however by getting a boob job, inflating her breasts to a solid C cup.

I say all of that to lay out how I understand why any girl would feel self-conscious going on a beach vacation where those three knockouts would be strutting around, flaunting their uniquely perfect bodies in various skimpy bathing suits. What I couldn't grasp was why Chelsea was one of those girls. I always chalked it up to the fact that she was, for lack of a better term, a "late bloomer". Most of the guys in our high school considered her very average looking but I always found her cute and charming. It didn't hurt that she was a family friend, and I had seen her at pool parties and knew what she was so often hiding under her modest wardrobe. Throughout college and especially afterward, I was often met with "wow, Chelsea got hot!" from friends who hadn't seen her since high school graduation. At that point we'd been dating for years so I obviously was not with her just for her looks, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a little lift from the compliments.

Chelsea played field hockey in high school and had the build of someone who had. Over time, though, through natural maturity and a more diverse gym regiment, her rigid muscles gave way to softer features including a firm but very squeezable butt and flat stomach. Her B cup breasts grew (much to my delight) into a large C cup. Her more chiseled facial structure filled out and complimented her striking green eyes. She also began wearing her hair different. She kept it long and brown, but she'd gotten it permed to give it some voluminous waves. She was, by all accounts, every bit as beautiful as the other girls. She just wasn't as confident about it.

"You don't think I'd look good in this?"

"I didn't say that," I replied quickly. Maybe too quickly. "I'm just surprised, that's all. You don't typically wear bikinis that are that... revealing."

"You think it's too much? Is it showing too much of my ass?" She turned around and looked down at her rear end. It was showing a lot but I, nor anyone else, was going to complain about it.

"Personally, I'd argue not enough," I said, though maybe I should have read the room better. Chelsea shot me a frustrated glare.

"I'm serious," she scolded. "I want to look good for this trip. I want to feel good. I want to get a little more adventurous with what I'm wearing, but you know it's hard for me. With Ariel and her perfect little body and Lisa with her, well, everything. Let alone, Lauren and her new boobs! Because she wasn't already hot enough! I just feel like I don't fit in, like everyone is going to think I'm trying but it doesn't work."

"I promise you, nobody is going to see you in that bathing suit and think that you look bad," I insisted. "You know all the guys think you're hot."

It was true. Robert, Ariel's husband, was one of the first to make it known that he thought Chelsea "got hot", something I sloppily told her one drunken night thinking she would want to know. She didn't take it as positively as I expected. Chris, Lisa's boyfriend initially asked Chelsea out, not realizing she had a boyfriend. Chelsea, being the great friend she is, was quick to pivot and introduce him to her very single and very busty friend. Liam, Tina's boyfriend, was the newest member of the group. We hadn't met him yet so technically we weren't certain he found Chelsea attractive, but I felt it was safe to assume he would.

"They just say that to be nice," Chelsea said, still looking at herself skeptically in the mirror. "And you'd say I look good in anything."

"And I'd be telling the truth," I answered. Chelsea huffed and frowned.

"How about this," I said, rising to my feet and taking her hands. "Just bring it with you and, if you're in the mood to wear it, wear it. If not, don't. Or, just wear it for me." I gave her a wink. She frowned again.

"You're sure it's not too much?"

I looked down at her, checking her out from all angles. "On second thought. It's definitely too much. Get that thing off right now." I grabbed the string tie and pulled it loose. Chelsea yelped but, before she could move to stop me, I grabbed her and pulled her into me. She tried to resist but I pressed my lips to hers, muffling her protests which quickly turned into laughter.

"Stop, I have to pack!" she said through chattering giggles. I didn't listen. Instead, I grabbed her by the ass, lifted her up, then dropped her on the bed. Her bikini top slipped out of her grasp, her breasts splashing free. I lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor and any inclination from her to resist melted away. If there was one thing that Chelsea loved about me, it was my abs. From what Chelsea told me, it was also the one thing that Lisa, Ariel, and Lauren loved about me as well.

Her hands were all over them, then she grabbed me by my sides and pulled me down on top of her. My shorts and boxers hit the floor, freeing my rapidly growing cock to the open. Eagerly, I kissed her shoulders then moved across her chest and down to her breasts.

"David!" Chelsea yelped as I flicked my tongue across a hardened nipple. Goosebumps formed across her shoulders and forearms. "Be gentle!"

But I wasn't about to take my time. I pulled the tie on her bikini bottom, the tiny triangle slumping loose as I climbed on top of her.

"Oh my god," she gasped as the weight of my body settled against hers and my cock brushed against the soft fuzz between her legs. "You're so hard."

"You're so sexy," I responded as I pushed forward, plunging my hardness into her. She grabbed my shoulders, her fingers digging into my flesh as I began pumping in and out of her. Her back arched as she met my thrusts, her hips rising to meet me. She was already soaking wet and her slickness enveloped me with each pump. Her breathing quickened and her moans grew louder.

"Harder," she demanded. "Faster."

Our cheap bed frame began creaking and groaning as I obliged, pistoning into her, our bodies slapping together. Her fingers tightened on my back and shoulder blades as she began to tremble. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her legs wrapped around me, pulling me in deeper.

"David, I'm gonna cum," she whimpered. "Don't stop. Don't stop, baby."

I grunted in agreement, staring down at her body beneath me. Her breasts bounced perfectly with every pounding thrust. Her face, contorted in pleasure, was a work of art. I could feel her walls clenching around me, her body tensing as her orgasm washed over her. Her back arched dramatically and she let out a series of loud, high-pitched cries. The sound of her cumming was all I needed to send me over the edge. With one final, deep thrust, I buried myself inside her, grunting aggressively as I filled her with my cum.

We laid there for a few minutes, panting heavily, the only sounds in the room our ragged breaths and the hum of the air conditioner. I rolled off her, my chest heaving. Chelsea was a mess, a tangled heap of limbs and hair, her body glistening with sweat.

"I really need to pack," Cheslea said, a smile growing on her face as the tension from her orgasm resolved.

"OK," I said. "But make sure you bring that bikini."