Abigail Vyers

The building Red pointed out to me earlier was evidently the resort’s administrative building. While we were there, we completed a lengthy check-in process. I say “we”, but Red did that part. In the meantime, I was hitting it up with a couple cuties in the lobby. This mingling confirmed what Red had suggested earlier, that everyone here had a crush on me. It manifested differently in different people, but their attraction to me was undeniable.

Also, I didn’t really feel bad about shamelessly ogling the girl’s bodies on display, and that wasn’t just because I was a hopeless pervert. They were giving it just as good as they were getting it, apparently. I couldn’t count the number of times someone glanced at the bulge in my trunks when they thought I wasn’t looking, and they weren’t eyeing it in the way you might expect them to, given that I was a scrawny weirdo rocking a boner on main. I wondered if this was what it was like to have tits.

Eventually Red managed to pry me away once the check-in process had completed. While at a glance her actions thus far could have constituted cock-blocking, it honestly didn’t feel that way to me. She was very nice about it and consistently made clear that it was only because we were in something of a hurry. She just wanted to keep me on task until all the formalities were taken care of. I certainly didn’t fault her for it, and honestly appreciated the gesture. I definitely would have just been lost wandering the beach until nightfall, wondering what I should do about sleeping arrangements.

She led me to an elevator with a paper sign next to the door reading:

We know, the elevators suck. Be patient with them.
Sincerely,

Staff

I scratched my chin as I read that. This resort was loaded enough to basically be its own small city and they couldn’t afford new elevators? That was odd. And if this was a dream, and it was meant to be a dream about the perfect resort, I’d think things like this wouldn’t happen. Maybe it was just to add a sense of realism?

I shrugged and entered the elevator with Red all the same. She pressed the button for the top floor, 13, and we waited for the doors to close. They took a very long time.

Ah elevator rides. Was there any possible way for them to be any more awkward? We were just two people confined in a tight space as it slowly crawled up the building. What felt like three minutes passed and I looked up, finding us to only be four floors up. This was going to take forever.

At least Red smelled nice. It was like, sweat and cinnamon mixed with a distinctly feminine scent. Quite intoxicating. She giggled suddenly.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just now that we literally can’t hurry onward, you’re suddenly not flirting with a woman you’re stuck alone with.”

I looked at her. She looked back. In that moment, I was pretty sure we both knew what would happen next. And it did.

Before long, her back was against the wall of the elevator and our tongues were intertwined. Not to brag, but I had multiple experiences making out with another person before now—and by multiple, I mean exactly two—and I’d also had many dreams about doing so. This experience, if it was indeed a dream, miraculously felt more like the former than the latter. The only aspect of it that actually seemed dreamlike, aside from the fact that it was happening at all, was that it felt amazing to do. Granted, this could be explained by Red just being really good at kissing, though.

Our lips touched, our tongues danced and poked each other, and my hands wandered. One was firmly on the ass I had been staring at basically since I met her and the other was squeezing one of her amazingly soft and bouncy breasts. I could feel her nipple poking through the fabric and into the palm of my hand, seeming to try and impale it while we passionately kissed.

Red moaned into my lips, and they briefly parted, “Just decided to go for broke, huh? No foreplay, no flirting, down to business.” Then she kissed me again and we spent another few seconds tongue-locked.

“Guess you could say you’ve gotten me all worked up,” I teased. “I bet you did that on purpose.”

She giggled and lifted up a leg, grinding her thigh against my rock-hard bulge. “Who’s to say I’m not still doing that? Working you up to a real finale; perhaps a more deserved one.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” I asked, but then the elevator doors opened, and I instinctively pulled away.

Red simply walked out of the elevator and I followed, blushing a bit as I realized someone was watching us and I had a raging boner. We were being watched by the face of an extremely tired and bored-looking receptionist.

I walked up to her, “Hey!” I greeted.

She just quirked an eyebrow at me and blew a bubble with the gum she was chewing.

“He’s here to see the manager,” Red explained.

“’Kay,” she replied, blinking slowly with her brown eyes framed by dark circles underneath, then pressed a button on the phone at her desk. “Someone’s here for you.”

“Thanks, Tiffany,” a sexy voice with its faint British accent returned from the speaker, “is it Wyatt, by chance?”

The receptionist looked at me briefly before responding, “Yep.”

“Have you made him feel welcome yet?”

Tiffany rolled her eyes but also blushed before reaching across the desk and grabbing my hand. She yanked it toward her and shoved my open palm directly onto her breast. It felt wonderful, and I realized in that moment that her uniform was pretty hot. Her top was a light, short-sleeved, white button-up which was evidently slightly sheer because I could see a black bikini top underneath. On her bottom, which I could only see thanks to being **** to lean over the desk, was just a pleated, black, short-skirt with the side-tie strings of her bikini bottoms dangling from within.

“Yeah,” Tiffany finally replied, exasperated.

“Good. Send him in.”

The receptionist rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever,” before nodding toward the door and letting go of my hand.

“I have some other things to attend to,” Red said, “I’ll see you again soon. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Frost.” With a wink and a wave, she went back into the elevator and out of sight. I supposed that meant the torch had been passed off to this “Vyers” lady. I hoped she was nice, she sounded like it, at least.

I awkwardly waved to the receptionist and left her behind, opening the mahogany double doors leading into the manager’s office. The room was huge, far larger than it frankly needed to be given that the only furniture was a single modern U-shaped desk, a pair of loveseats facing one another, and a coffee table between them. There were bookshelves, full of binders and various titles, but they were lined against the wall behind me as I entered. The remaining three walls were entirely glass looking out onto the island and the resort. It was a breathtaking view to be sure.

What was also frankly breathtaking was the woman standing behind the desk and smiling at me. Purple was clearly this woman’s favorite color, from her dark purple suit-jacket and tight skirt to her metallic purple lipstick, even her hair was dyed a complimenting shade of lavender. Under her jacket she wore a white button-up blouse with enough buttons undone to show off a significant amount of cleavage which was pronounced because of how large her breasts were, they were easily the largest I’d seen so far.

“Hello, Wyatt! I’m glad you decided to finally visit, love,” she welcomed and began stepping out from behind her desk, heels clicking against the hardwood floor in a pleasing manner.

As I approached, I saw more detail in her looks which only served to solidify how beautiful the mature business-lady was. I noted a pair of moles, one just left of her shiny purple lips and another on her left breast right next to her cleavage line. I was also entranced by her eyes which were an almost void-like black.

I reached out to shake her hand like she was about to be my new boss, but while she did take the hand—I couldn’t help noticing how soft hers was—she did not shake it. Instead, I was forcibly yanked forward, my head landing square in her cleavage as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed in a tight hug. I really was in heaven, head upon a fluffy cloud as angels played harps and trumpets in the background. She was giggling and cooing as she hugged me tightly into her.

When at last I was freed, I didn’t even get the opportunity to ask what that was about before she then grabbed my cheeks and forcefully placed a big kiss on my lips. Then another, then another, and then a final fourth one that actually included a bit of tongue.

Finally, I managed to ask, “What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?”

She laughed charmingly and said, “I shouldn’t need a reason to shower you in affection. I haven’t had the opportunity to welcome you into the family yet, my stepdaughter is a lucky gal to have landed such a great guy as a boyfriend.”

There was a lot to unpack there. Apparently, this lady was my girlfriend’s stepmom. Even more shocking was that I apparently had a girlfriend. This was news to me, but I avoided asking about that, it might have made things get awkward. I decided to just roll with it.

“Ah, yeah, I guess. Is it normal for moms to make-out with their daughters’ boyfriends?” I asked in a half-joking tone in case it actually was perfectly normal here.

“If Vivian didn’t want me to **** you, she shouldn’t have gotten herself such a cutie!” Ah, so my mystery girlfriend was named Vivian, then. That was a cute name. She then quickly landed another smooch on my lips before continuing, “Oh, I would just love to eat you right up here and now, but I Vivi would never let me hear the end of it if I got to you before her.”

Not “never let me hear the end of it if I got to you at all”, but “got to you before her”. The implication that my girlfriend would otherwise not mind was not lost on me. Sounded like I didn’t just have a girlfriend, but a pretty kinky and/or chill one if this lady was to be believed.

“But fine, if we must treat this introduction more formally, my name is Abigail Vyers. I am the manager and owner of the Firefly Spa Resort, island paradise and haven for those who enjoy the intimate arts of oral satisfaction and cock worship. Oh, but you’re welcome to call me Abby, darling,” she greeted.

“Wyatt Frost,” I replied, smiling.

“Oh I know your name, darling, Vivian never stops talking about you and how wonderful you are. She’s missed you a lot, so I shouldn’t keep you too long. We just have a few formalities to discuss while you’re staying here.”

Just then, the description of the island she gave me bubbled up in my brain as somewhat strange, the delay being due mostly to the sales-pitch-like tone she delivered the description with, “Hold on, what did you say this island was a haven for? I must have misheard you.”

Abigail giggled, probably at my delay, “It is a congregation of women and feminine men who all have a deep appreciation for—and considerable interest in—oral satisfaction and cock worship.”

See, that’s what I thought she said. Holy shit, could this island get any better?

She then led me over to the couches and offered a seat. I took it and relaxed in place. The sofas were really comfortable, I could see myself falling right asleep on them if I wasn’t careful. That was also assuming I wasn’t already sleeping, of course.

She went over to her desk and grabbed a bundle of papers from it before returning to me. I expected her to take the seat on the sofa right across from me. She did not do this, and I should have frankly known better by now. Instead, I felt a sudden weight on my lap as Abigail sat down there, facing me and holding the papers in front of her face. My eyes were perfectly on level with her tits, and since her face was concealed, I couldn’t help but stare.

“Okay so as far as accommodations go, we have to decide where you’ll be staying. I recommend our penthouse suite in the Lamplight Hotel,” she said, wiggling around and making her cleavage jiggle pleasantly.

My eyes were fixed on the beauty mark on her chest, “Uh, shouldn’t I stay with Vivian?”

The papers suddenly dropped down and my eyes shot upward, going from mole to mole, now fixated on the one beside her purple lips.

“Sure, if you’d like. The penthouse would be more luxurious though.”

“This whole place is pretty luxurious, and I can’t think of any better place to be staying than with my girlfriend, honestly.”

“Awww, you are such a sweetheart,” she leaned forward and covered my mouth and cheeks with smooches before giggling and adding, “Vivi is so lucky to have you. All right, I will make sure that gets registered as your official room.”

The papers went back up, and my eyes went back down. It really was quite a wonder that the single button holding both sides of her blazer hadn’t snapped by now. It really looked like it was holding on for dear life.

“Next would normally be the topic of the expenses, but that’s already been taken care of so no need to worry,” she said, her voice sort of sounding distant to me.

In fact, I found it difficult to pay attention to what she was saying now, I was only listening for an upward lilt in her tone indicating a question at this point while my eyes were busy plunging themselves into the depths of her massive breasts. Jesus what size were they? E? F? No, these things had to be H-cups at least. Abigail was a Milf to boot, and not just a Milf, but the step-Milf of the girlfriend that I apparently had. I idly wondered what my girlfriend looked like, I bet she was cute.

She suddenly pulled the papers away and tossed them onto the coffee table behind her. It took me longer than it likely should have for my head to clear again and my eyes to go back up to her face. They literally traveled from mole, to mole, to her eyes.

“Oh my, darling, were you perhaps gazing at my cute little mole?” she brought a purple-polished nail up to her cleavage and poked at the spot where her beauty mark was. “Go ahead and look to your heart’s content, love, you’re welcome to touch too, if you’d like.”

I swallowed hard. This distinguished business-lady was being extremely forward with me and the idea alone was intoxicating. I was not the kind of guy to turn down an offer like that, in any case, so I somewhat hesitantly brought up my hands to squeeze her breasts. They were just as soft and elastic to my hands as they felt on my face, even under her blouse and suit-jacket, easily bouncing back into shape after I continually dug my fingers into them.

“Cheeky boy, I meant the mole,” she said in a flirty tone and giggled, “but this is nice too. In fact, you should explore the center a bit more, you might find something special in there just for you.” She winked.

I hesitated only slightly, briefly glancing at her black eyes to assess her intent, but then took the plunge when all I saw was a welcoming smile. My hand was immediately trapped within a prison of softness and warmth. There was a slickness too, and the thought that it was boob-sweat actually turned me on more than I expected it to.

I actually found great difficulty in getting my fingers to slide in very easily, proving just how tight her top was around her massive melons, but it was actually kind of fun. Part of me was almost disappointed when I found the hidden item. It felt like something hard and plastic but flat. It was about the same size and shape as a credit card. Perhaps it was my room key? Had she anticipated I would be staying with Vivian all along?

“Oh, there it is,” I said.

“Oh? Are you sure you found it?” Abigail cooed. “Maybe you should search around a little more just to be sure.” She winked again and I took her meaning immediately.

I spent some time moving my fingers and sliding them around with help from her slick sweat. The smell that came out of her cleavage was strong but pleasant, feminine, and heavenly. I grinned to myself as I had an idea for this little quasi-roleplay.

“I think I got it,” I said wrapping my fingers around the object, but then purposely let them slip off. “Oops, nevermind, my fingers are so slick I can’t quite grab onto it.”

“Oh dear, that is quite troublesome,” Abigail replied, placing a palm on her cheek and tilting her head. “Here, maybe I should try and dislodge it.” She then began bouncing up and down on my lap, making her soft boobflesh jiggle around my hand inside her top. It also meant she was practically grinding on the rock-like tent in my trunks, adding to the experience.

Okay, if Abigail’s stepdaughter had even half of the raging libido as her, my time spent here was going to be absolutely fantastic.

After I’d had my fun, I removed the object and examined it. It was a shiny gold card with a mag strip on one side and the letters “VIP” on the other. I turned it over in my hand a few times, it seemed really well-made.

“There it is. It’s your room key,” she said, giggling.

“Just a room key?” I quirked an eyebrow, indicating the letters on the front.

“Not ‘just’ a room key, it’s a skeleton key. Using that card, you can go anywhere you want on the island, free of charge. You can also use it to enter the private rooms of the residents or visitors if you like.”

“That seems a little suspect,” I said, furrowing my brow.

Abigail laughed, “Aw, how cute. Look at you, worrying about morality in a place like this. Don’t fret, darling, everyone here already signed an agreement consenting to things like that ahead of time. Everyone fully expects you to walk into their homes and hotel rooms at any moment and do whatever you want. Most of them even hope you will, and the rest won’t care.”

Okay, fair enough.

“That card also serves as a voucher for anything you wish to purchase here. Just show them the card and they’ll let you have whatever you want, I’ll end up reimbursing them anyway. Food, clothes, supplies, even gifts for other residents and visitors.”

“Well, thanks,” I said.

“I’ll get you a lanyard for it,” Abigail said and got up from my lap and I felt the need to adjust my position so that my hard-on wasn’t as noticeable. I felt a little blue-balled, if I was being perfectly honest, but I also knew that would only make the release with my apparent new girlfriend all the sweeter.

Even dreams needed climaxes, right?