Story 17All-Inclusive


    “We need to get some of that,” said Gerome, and patted my back.


    What he was talking about, were the two German girls eating ice cream by the pool. They were both blondes and in their early twenties. One had a cone with what I suspected was chocte and strawberry and the other straight-up vani, two scoops. They licked the scream painfully slow and I knew they knew we were watching them. The one to the left, wearing a light yellow bikini lowered her sunsses and waved at us.


    Gerome waved back. “See, they want us.”


    “Too bad thepany policy is not to fuck the customers,” I said and turned him around.


    We walked along the pool away from the girls and headed for the lobby. It waste July and the touristplex was full. The hotel had beds for almost two thousand customers and there wasn’t an empty bed anywhere.


    We entered the air-conditioned lobby and said hi to the receptionists on our way to the staff cantina where we would have our lunch. When we walked in I was happy to see several empty tables. It was close to three in the afternoon and the staff had already begun to take some things off the buffet. We grabbed tes and then piled on the food as high as we could. After getting some drinks we sat down at a table by the window. Outside stood a few dried-up bushes, old sunbeds, and parasols. The view was not very nice.


    “When are your parentsing?” said Gerome between mouthfuls of sd and bread.


    “Tomorrow, and guess what.”


    “What?”


    “They decided to invite Tracy, and they know I can’t stand her.”


    She was my step-mothers daughter. My dad had re-married five years ago and his new wife, Shannon had a daughter. She was two years older than I, and a bitch. While we lived at home, she would harass me, answer my phone, and use myputer, and so on. She was so spoiled by her mother that my father gave up talking to her about leaving me alone. When she got married to a guy she met in college my life was a lot better. She had divorced during the winter and spent most of her time at my dad’s ce crying about her asshole ex-husband. I was d I had gotten this job over the summer.


    “Is she hot?”


    “C’mon, I am eating, dude.”Belongs to (N)?vel/Drama.Org.


    Gerome put down his knife and fork. “So? You can still tell me if she is hot.”


    “No, she isn’t, she is a bitch.”


    “Fine, I’ll make up my own mind when I see her.”


    We ate in silence for a while and then I said “what are you doing after lunch?”


    “Mini golf with the oldies.”


    The thought of the big Frenchman ying mini-golf with the old people, made meugh. The clubs looked like pencils in his massive hands. Most of the elderly were too scared toe close to him in the beginning. That he was a great teacher and good with them took a while for them to realize.


    “What’s so funny? What are you doing?”


    “Nothing. I’m going to help Megan down at the beach with the snorkeling ss.”


    “You lucky bastard.”


    “Mm, I guess I am.”


    Megan was every ones favorite. She was a ssy brte from South Africa. That she was a model also only made her more interesting to the male staff. We had heard rumors that she once had done a centerfold for a local men’s magazine back home, but no one had been able to find the pictures online.


    When we finished, I walked with Gerome to the mini-golf area. Then I made my way down to the beach. When I got close to the water sports center I stopped and just watched Megan. She was cleaning snorkels, masks, and fins in a big old bathtub. She was bent over and her round ass was facing me. I wondered how it would feel like to walk up to her from behind and then simply spread her ass cheeks and ram my cock  into her pussy.


    “Excuse me?”


    The voice brought me back to reality and I turned to my left. There was a woman in her forties standing there. Her nose was covered in white cream and she was overweight and short.


    “Yes, how can I help you?”


    “Are there sharks in the water?”


    I looked out over the mirror-like Mediterranean Sea and then turned back to her. “No, there aren’t.”


    “Are you sure? I read in the paper that there was.”


    She was referring to an article about a surfer who had been bitten and died the previous day in Australia.


    “That was in Australia, you are in Spain, and there are no man-eating sharks here.”


    “I hope you are right, because if aren’t, then I will write aint letter.”


    She left and I stood there staring after her. What a fucking idiot, she deserved to be eaten, I thought. Then I turned and went down to Megan.