Last Resort [MF][Exh][Voy][Mast][Mdom][ENF]

I decided to try something from r/DirtyWritingPrompts/ just for fun.

The original prompt: Late at night, a woman decides goes swimming nude in the ocean. While she’s swimming, a pervert steals her clothes and runs off

—-

**Last Resort**

It was a lark. That’s how these stories always start. Veronica was on the island of Santa Alda for a banking conference, and with any work event in the Caribbean, there was a lot of rum involved. She’d actually been pretty good and went to bed around ten the first night, more than tipsy, but not quite stumbling drunk. The resort she was staying at was small but luxurious, maybe fifty bungalows at best, and hers was just off the beach. She’d been longingly looking at the white sands and cerulean waters since she arrived that morning, but it was all long-winded talks, long lunches, and lingering ‘social’ events after hours. Yes, she was there on business, and her bank expected her to come back with plenty of business cards and potential new clients, but she was on an island in the Caribbean, and she had yet to touch the water.

As Veronica stumbled through the door into her bungalow (okay, maybe she was *just* at the edge of stumbling drunk), she didn’t even bother with the lights, not quite gracefully kicking off her strappy sandals, and pulling her sundress over her head to fall on her bed in just her bra and panties. She fell asleep clutching the covers, but never getting under them.

She rolled over, feeling better, but still tipsy—*actually* tipsy, probably—since she looked at the clock and saw it was one in the morning. Light from the half-moon was steaming though the gap in her curtains, and she vaguely considered the fact that she’d been passed out on top of her bed in nothing but a semi-sheer seamless set of bra and panties. “Ugh.” She managed to say through a sticky tongue, partly from dehydration, partly from the rum punch. She went into the bathroom and haphazardly brushed her teeth before drinking a glass and a half of water. “Wait, can you drink the water on Santa Alda?” She said aloud. “Fuck.” She added. It was too late now.

She left the bathroom and padded barefoot over to her window to close the curtains, but seeing the moonlight reflecting off the sand and soft rolling waters, she just watched it for a minute. There was no one about. It was a very small resort with a private beach, and all of the people in it were nine-to-fivers, albeit well-paid ones, but that also meant they were probably all asleep, probably wanting to be fresh for tomorrow’s talk on tax regulations for third-party corporate structures. The quietude made her feel slightly better about falling asleep with the curtains open. Her ass looked good in these panties, regardless.

She could just hear the sea, faintly, but it was there. She saw behind her curtains there was a latch and handles. Sliding doors right out onto the beach? She hadn’t known, which also proved how little she’d actually been enjoying herself. She took and second glance around, just to make certain no one could see her, and she slid the glass door open with a rough squeal.

The sound of the waves was a dull roar in the otherwise silent night, and the warm salty air washed over her, making her shiver from the stark contrast between the air conditioning and the outside air. She took a tentative step out onto the small concrete pad that was her ‘balcony’ and looked around, there were no suites immediately next to hers that faced the beach, the others angled toward the pool. Veronica enjoyed the air for another minute before declaring to no one, “I should go for a swim.”

She went back into her room and into the top drawer of her dresser. She dug around through her underwear for a minute before swearing. Where was her bathing suit? She knew she’d packed it because she bought the damned thing at the airport. It was sexy but tasteful, elegant, expensive…and missing. “Damn it!” She swore again. “I’m never going to get to go to beach.” The resort no doubt sold bathing suits, but it was middle of the night.

Veronica cursed her luck as she walked back to the sliding doors to close them, but as she passed the full length mirror, she saw herself, still in her under, and her mind, even in its partially inebriated state, put two and two together. “This…” she said, turning to look at herself more closely, “this could work.” Yes, even the half-light, you could still make out the shape of her nipples see the slight color difference between the edge of her areolas and her breasts, and yes, she could definitely see her wide landing strip, her dark bush contrasting against the not-quite-sheer dark blue fabric of her underwear, but it wouldn’t turn translucent in the water.

“It would just be a clingy second-skin.” She argued with herself.

“But that water looks amazing, and there’s no one else up.” Her tipsy self countered.

“You’re drunk. Anyone might see me.” She said.

“Anyone who could see would be over a hundred yards away, assuming they were even looking in your direction.” Her tipsy self was making some surprisingly cogent arguments.

She went back inside and tied back her long dark hair in the bathroom before grabbing a towel. She decided to leave the towel just inside the sliding door, propping it open just in case. She took one last look at her half-exposed self. “Fuck it.” Veronica said. “Just a quick dip, and then I’ll buy a bathing suit first thing tomorrow morning.” She started walking down to the beach.

Veronica’s heart was beating fast. The open air felt amazing on her skin, but she also knew she was partly exposed to anyone who might be looking. She glanced over her shoulder, doing a double-check—no one that she could see—but was distracted by her ass, highlighted by the moonlight. Her underwear was definitely more sheer than she’d realized, especially now that her eyes had adjusted. But then, this was all she brought other than some lacy stuff and a thong. She crested the small dunes and saw the rest of the beach laid out before her. Almost a mile before the next resort in either direction, so even though she was half-naked, no one would see.

“Honestly, I should have have just left the underwear back in the room.” She said, glancing down at her breasts, every detail revealed in the moonlight.

“Nothing stopping you from taking it off. It’ll be story to tell your friends.” Her tipsy self chimed in.

“I—.” She started.

“And the salt water isn’t going to do anything for your underwear.” Tipsy Veronica continued. “A hundred dollars of performance bra and panties, breathable, seamless, supportive, flattering…a salt-crusted mess afterwards.”

“Yeah…” She muttered.

“Probably end up getting stretched out.”

“Mmm hmm…”

“The clasp will rust.”

“Damn it!” Veronica hissed. “Okay, fine…I’ll do it.” Her tipsy self said nothing more as Veronica undid her bra. She held an arm over her bare breasts and walked over to a large rock, setting her bra down beside it. It wouldn’t help to protect this stuff from the water only to have it blow away while she swam. She looked around one last time. She was already topless—illegal on the island—so it really didn’t matter who saw what at that point. She lowered her arm, feeling another shiver as a warm breeze blew over her exposed chest. She slid off her panties, folding them on top of her bra, and just stood there for a moment. These island breeze caressed every inch of her body, and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in it.

“You’re naked.” Veronica said. “Outside.” She added. “And it feels wonderful.” Hers hands slid over her breasts, caressing her nipples, sending tingles of pleasure through her body. Her hand drifted lower, sliding gently over her bush, and just teasing her pussy. She shook her head, knowing that tipsy Veronica and horny Veronica had other ideas than swimming. Opened her eyes, she looked toward the water. The tide was calm, barely lapping at the shore, but she could hear the waves hitting the reefs farther into the water.

She crossed the last fifty feet to the water’s edge and thrilled at the warm sea covering her toes. It wasn’t quite bath water, but it felt great in the humid night. She waded in to her knees, then her waist, stopping short as the water reached her pussy. The lapping waves brought more naughty thoughts to mind, but as her hand lingered over her soft bush—just teasing, again—she shook out of it. Tipsy and horny Veronica were getting frustrated, but the sea was sobering her up. She took a few steps more where there was a slight drop off of the soft sand. That was good. She could half float, half swim, and the bulk of her body was hidden by the water. Why didn’t I do this sooner?” She said.

—-

Devon got up just before one with a raging hard on. He had tried jerking off just before he went to bed at nine-thirty, but too much rum punch had made that a losing battle. There were a decent amount of hot women at the conference, but most of them were either focused on business or on the equally hot men in attendance. Devon wasn’t exactly ugly, but he wasn’t hot either. It hadn’t helped that many of the women, due to the balmy climate, had decided to go without bras in their flouncy sundresses or loose floral tops. He’d spent the entire social event ogling while sporting wood—carefully inconspicuous—while also wondering if the women had bothered with panties.

He went to his balcony, his erection bobbing with each step, and the thought crossed his mind to jerk off outside, spurting right over the railing. Maybe one of those women would walk right through it in their bare feet as they went to beach tomorrow. Devon had been disappointed at the choice of accommodations his company had paid for. No view of the pool, for one. Jerking off to a woman in a bikini was almost the same her being in her underwear.

Most of the other attendees has single-occupant bungalows, but he was in a walk-up attached to the main body of the hotel. It was private, thus why he could stand out on his balcony in the buff, and he could see a good stretch of the beach, but it was somewhat obscured by grove of palm trees.

Devon lazily stroked himself, teasing his balls until they were tight against his body, and generally enjoying the heavy night air. He sighed contentedly, but then froze, hearing a squeak and scrape. He knew he was mostly hidden, but he half-crouched. A moment later, he saw a well-built brunette step outside her bungalow. At first he thought she was wearing a bathing suit, but as she stretched her body to no doubt enjoy the air as he had been doing, he saw she was just in her underwear. She glanced around, as if looking for someone, but never once raised her eyes to his level. Devon could see her nipples pretty clearly, and he rose from his crouch to get a better view. As she angled away, he also saw the line of her ass. Her dark blue bra and panties were pretty much see-through, and he was definitely enjoying the show.

He started jerking off, but swore as she stepped back into her room. “Fuck, just as it was getting good.” He said. He waited a minute, and was about to go back inside, when the woman came back and set a towel in her sliding door before closing it most of the way.

“Fuck it.” He could just hear her say. “Just a quick dip, and then I’ll buy a bathing suit first thing tomorrow morning.” She started walking down to the beach. Devon followed her with his eyes, watching her breasts bounce as she crossed the small dunes, and then she stood there, staring at the sea. In the moonlight, it was like someone had painted the *idea* of panties on her ass, but failed to fill in the detail. He could see her plainly, and she was gorgeous. Full ass, but not too full. He liked that. Something to grab onto. He watched her for another minute and then swore under his breath as he saw her undo her bra.

“You little slut.” He chuckled. He didn’t really think of women like that, but he felt daring for saying the word aloud, stuff he so often heard in porn. She was careful to keep an arm over her pale breasts, as she hid the bra by a rock, but then she seemed resigned, and lowered her arms before pushing down her panties. He couldn’t quite see her ass as she was turned sideways to him, but he saw her breasts swaying beneath her. Big…not too big…but he wasn’t choosy. “Come on, bend over for me…” He hissed, jerking off steadily. Instead, she straightened up. The woman played with her breasts for a moment, and he watched with fascination as she moved a hand between her legs. He couldn’t clearly see, but it was pretty obvious she was touching herself. She seemed to wake from the moment, and then turned to the sea, showing off her ass once more and moving toward the water.

Devon was close to coming, and that was probably why he wasn’t thinking too clearly. She would be distracted, enjoying the night, her quiet evening swim. He could sneak right up there…and…what? The thought of anything more than spying on her never crossed his mind. He had no idea, but his cock was urging him onward. Devon quickly pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. The shorts didn’t quite hide his erection, but not much would at that point. He slipped out of his room and made to move toward the beach, but stopped short, turning toward the woman’s bungalow.

The door was propped open, but the patio door have an automatic lock. “She must be a little drunk…not thinking straight.” He muttered. He carefully slid the door open and stepped inside. It smelled like a woman, flowery, the subtle blend of light perfume, shampoo, body wash, everything feminine. He tossed the towel on a chair and went to her dresser. The top drawer was open, and he saw a scrambled pile of bras and panties. Devon thought back to the evening’s event, the women not wearing bras, and he decided to help this one along. He moved quickly, grabbing the laundry bag out of her closet, and shoved all her things inside, closing the top drawer and leaving the room, sliding the glass door closed all the way. She’d know someone had been in there one way or the other, but maybe she wouldn’t notice her bras and panties were missing until tomorrow.

He set the laundry bag in the shadows near the steps of his room and quietly moved toward the beach. The moonlight was in his favor, as there were a lot of shadows to disappear in as he reached the dunes. Devon lurked at the edge of the dunes and saw the woman lazily swimming offshore. She had her back turned to the beach, and he took a deep breath, risking the moment, and dashed down to the rock to steal her bra and panties. He had just cleared the dunes with his prize when he saw her turn around, now floating on her back and giving him a clear view of her tits, nipples hard in the water cooler water. She had a wide landing strip between her legs, though even in the half-light, he could see was probably waxed lower.

As much as he was enjoying the show, he didn’t want to be caught with her things, so he crouch-walked back to the landscaping heading back toward his room and tossed her bra in the bushes. He played his fingers over the panties in his hand and, looking around, lowered his shorts so his cock popped free. He stroked himself with the panties, the soft and fine fabric bringing him quickly back to full hardness.

Devon knew that what he was doing was wrong. A part of him was ashamed, though not the part he was rubbing gently at the moment. The first time he’d stolen someone’s underwear had surprised him more than anyone. It had been in college in the freshmen dorm laundry room. A crime of opportunity. He went to load his recently washed clothes into a dryer and found a girl’s clothes already in it—dry, fresh, slightly warm. The panties—little lacy ones, white, with a tiny satin bow on the front—had just been sitting there, right on top, right within reach. No one had been around, so he reached in quickly, grabbed the underwear, and jammed it in his pocket. Later that afternoon, when he knew his roommate was out, he’d jerked off into those panties, imagining the girl who wore them, her wondering where she misplaced them. He came hard, ruined the underwear, and was disgusted with himself. Still, it didn’t stop him from doing it again next time he was in the laundry, and again, and few dozen more times over the next four years.

Devon stopped short of ruining his new acquisition and folded the panties so they fit smoothly into the pocket of his shorts. His hard on was tenting his shorts, and he knew he shouldn’t linger outside, but then he heard the woman.

—-

“What the fuck?” Veronica hissed, crouched near the rock where she had hidden her things. Her bra and panties were gone. “The wind?” She asked, but there wasn’t much of a breeze. She walked along the dunes a few feet in either direction, but there was nothing there. She was increasingly conscious of the fact that she was naked and dripping wet. It was still the middle of the night. She could probably make it back to her room with no problem if she was just quick about it, but her streaking at the resort hadn’t been part of the plan.

Veronica lingered at the crest of the dunes. Her bungalow was three hundred feet, may be a little more. She’d already walked the distance half-naked as it was, but this was slightly different. She couldn’t see any lights on in the few other bungalows in her line of sight, but that didn’t mean no one could see her. “You have to go in sometime.” She muttered.

“Who are you talking to?” She jumped at a man’s voice. Spinning to see a guy in a tank top and shorts eyeing her with a smile. Then she realized *why* he was smiling, and scrambled to cover her breasts and pussy. “You know public nudity is illegal on Santa Alba, right?”

“Do you mind?” She snapped. “Someone stole my un—my clothes.” She corrected.

“Okay, but nude swimming is still public nudity.” The man said. “Even on a private resort, I think.” She wanted to scream in frustration, but the last thing she needed was more attention.

“I just went for a dip…nothing more…someone stole my clothes! I need to get back to my room.” She said.

“I’m not stopping you.” He shrugged. He wasn’t even trying to be coy about looking at her.

“Look, can you, uh, maybe, um, go to my bungalow and get me something—at t-shirt, even—it’s right up there.” She pointed, accidentally exposing her boob in the process. She huffed and quickly covered back up as the guy chuckled. “This isn’t *funny*!” She snarled.

“Oh, it kind of is.” His smile got wider. “But sure, I’ll go and get you something to wear. That one right there?” He pointed at her villa. She nodded. “But first, I want to see what I’m helping to cover up.”

“What?” She blinked, not quite confused at the comment, but that he was actually, seriously asking it.

“I just want to see you lower your hands. I already saw a bit as you were creeping about the dunes, and—.”

“I wasn’t creeping!”

“It looked like creeping to me, and you’re the one who is naked, here.” She frowned at his condescending tone. “I’m Devon, by the way.”

“This isn’t a fucking networking event.” She snapped.

“True, a bit more clothes at those—not much more—but not…this.” He issued to her nudity. “Tell me your name.” He prodded.

“Veronica.” She grumbled. “I assume you’re here for the conference, too?”

“Been pretty boring up to this point, Veronica. So,” he stretched, “you going to let me a get a look or am I just going to enjoy watching you running back to your bungalow?”

“I can’t believed this!” Her mind struggled with what would be more embarrassing, being seen by one random guy, or possibly by who knew how many? And the guy was seeing her—had seen her—already. She sighed and stood up straight. She paused a beat, then lowered the arm from her breasts, followed by the hand she clutched over her pussy. Veronica watched the guy drinking in the sight of her, his smile slightly wider, but he was intently studying her nudity. “Enough?” She asked.

“Do you wax?” He asked. She couldn’t help it. She blushed. “Just a question.” He added.

“I…” She knew he was toying with her, drawing out the moment, but it would pointless for her to argue if it only made the moments of sheer embarrassment last longer. “Yes. Why, do you want the name of my salon?”

“That’s alright.” He said. “I just use trimmers down there. And your tits, what are you, a C-cup?”

“B, asshole.” She said.

“No need to be rude. You have great tits, tight little nipples. Honestly, it’s just a thing guys like to know. Tits are tits, and most are good.” He said, offhand. “Okay, let me see the backside.”

“You can’t be serious!” His amused expression didn’t change, and then she saw the bulge in his shorts. He was aroused. She was such an idiot. Was he going to attack her? “I’m just going to go, now.” He must’ve caught her looking at his crotch.

“Oh, this?” He stroked himself through the fabric of his shorts. “Don’t worry, it’s only partly because of the naked woman in front of me. I was going to jerk off by the beach, and, well, thought better of it thinking about all the sand, you know? I’m not going to force you into anything. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You’ll just exploit me, that’s all.”

“Again, you’re the one out here naked, not me.” He spread his hands wide. “Just let me see your ass, and then I’ll head up to your room to get you some clothes. I mean, yes, I am definitely going to jerk off to you later,” she flinched, “but I won’t touch you without asking.”

“You’re right, you won’t touch me!” She tried to assert herself, but he just made a gesture for her to turn around. She grumbled but gave in, looking over her should to make sure he didn’t come any closer.

“You have a fantastic ass.” He said. “I mean, truly.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see he was touching himself again, his hand actually down his shorts. She felt like an object, nothing more. He was just getting his rocks off to her misery.

“Can you go, now? And stop…stop…jerking *off*!”

“I’ll go, sweet cheeks…you just wait here.”

—-

On the way back to Veronica’s bungalow, Devon debated what he was going to do. It was surprisingly hot to have the woman sitting in the palm of his hand, ready to do almost anything he asked. How could he take advantage of that? How far would she go? By the time he reached the sliding glass door to her room, he had a plan. He made a show of tugging at the door in case she was watching, and after about a minute, he slipped her panties out of his pocket and hid them with a toss into the nearby shrubbery. He could probably reclaim them later if he wanted, but then, he had a whole bagful waiting near his steps.

He walked quickly back to the dunes climbing over them and seeing her waiting, not even bothering to cover herself at that point.

“Where are my clothes?” She asked

“The door was closed.” He said.

“It wasn’t. I even left a towel in the door frame just in case.”

“There was no towel and I gave it a good tug.” He grinned. “The door, I mean.” She frowned at his bad joke. “So, what now? I suppose we could go to the front desk. They’d let you in.”

“Like this?” She looked down at herself.

“Well, *I* can’t be the only one who goes. How will that conversation work? Hey, night manager, can you let me into some woman’s room at one o’clock in morning?”

“I am not going to the front desk naked, Devon!”

“You remembered my name!” He smiled.

“Fuck you, Devon.” She looked at him again. He was still hard. Damn it. Why did she keep looking at his cock?

“How about I give you my clothes.”

“What?” She asked.

“Well, my room isn’t too far away, and unlike you, I know I didn’t lock myself out.”

“I didn’t lock—.”

“Now’s not the time to argue, Veronica.” He chided. “A simple trade, I’ll give you my clothes and shyly but bravely walk back naked to my room while you go see the front desk to let you in yours, and…”

“And what?”

“You bend over and let me fuck you.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind, Devon.”

“I think you kind of want it, or at least for me to ask.” He said. “A blowjob?” She just stared at him. “Okay, a handy.”

“Fuck you, Devon.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “You watch me jerk off to you while you do yourself—but first, I want to feel you up.”

“You’re a fucking pervert.”

“I know, Veronica. I *know* I’m a pervert.” He said, and it felt surprisingly liberating to say it. “You’re a sexy naked woman, and the quick way out would be to just get me off, but yuo’re pretending to not be up for that.” Veronica started to protest, but he held up a hand. “But, given you’re more or less trapped by the situation, I have a bit of power here, right? All of this is making me pretty hard, so yes, I’m a fucking pervert.” She glanced away. “But…I promised I wouldn’t touch you without permission. I’m trying to be nice. I could literally just walk away, after all.” Veronica thought about it for much less time than she was proud of. He wanted to grope her, get off to her…fine. He was a fucking little perv, but she was generally in control, she told herself. If she got some clothes, he had nothing to hold over her, and it was a small price to pay. ‘And a story to tell.’ He mind said, but she squashed that thought like a bug.

“You try to stick anything—*anything*—inside me, and I will gouge your fucking eyes out, understand?” He nodded. He surprised her by dropping his shorts and setting them on a nearby rock. She gasped seeing him naked, hard, and walking towards her. What had she gotten herself into? The thought sprung to mind that she could grab his shorts and run for it, but what? She’d still be naked until she could put them on, topless regardless, and he might catch her.

She flinched briefly as he reached out to touch her shoulder. She was mostly dry, could feel the salt on her skin, but he was gentle. Veronica tried to ignore the cock inches from her naked body, but she also felt compelled to track it, seeing him hard, the close-trimmed dark hair that shadowed his crotch. The tip of him brushed along her hip as he stepped behind her.

“Ah!” She gasped as he her grabbed her ass. She felt his erection pressed against the cleft of her ass. “Careful with where you put that.” She snarled, feeling the heat of his arousal near her lower back. He wasn’t quite dry humping her, but he wasn’t being completely still either. His arms slid around her waist, and it felt both wrong and intimate, and the worst part was, her body was responding normally. Veronica knew she was being used, but she also knew there was no real danger, just her dignity at risk, and that was already pretty compromised before Devon even showed up. And part of her, not the tipsy bit, not sober one in the moment, not even the horny part of Veronica that was growing in volume, liked being in the open like this, being outside, told what to do, the threat of being caught.

His hands rose to her breasts. She was breathing tightly, anxious in anticipation of his touch. Devon could almost feel her willing him to be quick, but she wasn’t saying a word. He cupped her breasts, feeling them, caressing them, and then traced the edges of her nipples. He felt her nipples tighten at the stimulation, and moved in to softly tug and pinch them. Veronica took a sharp breath. Pervert or not, he was working her like he knew what she wanted, but then, she wasn’t hard to please in the simplest terms—a little nipple play, skin on skin—oh fuck, his hand slid down between her legs.

Devon splayed his fingers so they trailed through her bush while also tracing her bikini line. He hadn’t even reached her most sensitive parts, but he could feel her heart racing, hear her short breath. He teased her for few more extended moments, before sliding his hand to her smooth pussy. She was wet, and not from the sea. He traced the lines of her labia, daring to run his fingers along her warm and wet opening, and while she didn’t stop him, she stiffened.

“Haven’t you had enough?” She said breathily.

“Have you?” He asked, not stopping his gentle teasing, his fingers slick between her thighs. “I could slip right in there—my fingers or…*not* my fingers?” He pressed his cock harder against her ass.

“We had a deal.” She said firmly, and took a step away from him. Devon knew not to push his luck.

“Then, turn around and face me, so I can finish.” She sighed but did as he asked. She was gorgeous in the moonlight, slightly flushed, definitely aroused, and trying not to watch him as he started jerking off, but she *was* watching. “You too,” he grunted, reminding her. Veronica swore under her breath. She slid a hand between her legs, shocked to find out how wet she really was, and started teasing herself. She couldn’t keep watching him stroke himself so hard and fast. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the light slapping sound of his hand on his cock, and focus on her own pleasure. Veronica found if she focused on the waves, she could nearly disappear in the moment, and she let herself go after her clitoris, enjoy the pleasure rather than just going along with the pervert’s whims.

Her pleasure welled, and she was gasping letting out a small moan, but that was cut short as she felt something hot and wet splash on her chest. She stopped touching herself, her eyes snapping open only to see another stream of come shoot from Devon’s cock and cover her from her belly to her bush, rolling and dripping down her thighs.

“Hey!” She snapped, and turned away, but that only got her a final spurt across her ass. She looked down at herself. She had semen on her breasts and downward, and she accidentally let him get her from behind, too. “You didn’t say your were going to do that!” She hissed, trying not to raise her voice.

“Veronica,” he smiled, “what do you think *happens* when a man comes?”

“I fucking *know* what happens, but it didn’t have to happen on *me*. I’m a mess.” She snapped.

“Well, you could go rinse off in the sea, though I can’t guarantee my clothes will be here when you get out.”

“You wouldn’t!” She pleaded.

“I’ll keep my word.” Devon said, peeling off his tank top, not even remotely shy in his full nudity “Just put the clothes on over my jizz.” She flinched at the word. “Go ahead, start with the shorts, and then I’ll give you my shirt.” She blinked at him, but moved to the rock to grab the shorts. She pulled them on, zipped and buttoned them, and felt the come smear on her skin. There were no wet spots showing through, but she could still feel it. Devon’s shorts rode low on her hips, barely staying on her smaller frame. Even as she walked back to him she felt them ride lower and lower. Veronica glanced down, seeing the top curls of her bush peeking out from the waistline of the shorts. She hiked them up, but all that did was remind her of the come underneath. “Here you go.” He handed her the tank top.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” She said as she used her hand wipe away some of the excess come on her tits. She shook off her hand and wiped it on the side of the shorts. “A perverted and rude asshole.” The tank top fit a little better than the shorts, though it was more than clear she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The neckline stopped just short of her nipples, but her still-hard nipples were pretty obvious under the thin fabric. It also didn’t help that the curve of her bare breasts were plainly visible from the sides. “I look like…like…I don’t know what.” She muttered.

“I think the important thing is, you don’t look naked, right?” He reached out and adjusted the tank top, as one of her nipples was half-exposed. “Well, mostly.” He said, withdrawing his hand, but not before brushing against her breast.

“You need to go now.” Veronica said.

“You first. Go ahead,” he waved her off, “I won’t follow you like this.” He looked down at his nudity. She knew he wasn’t wrong, but she still felt as if there was some trick waiting. She shook her head and stormed off over the dunes, the shorts falling to her knees and exposing her ass to him as she scrambled over the top. Devon heard her swear as she fumbled with the ill-fitting clothes and disappear into the night.

—-

Devon walked casually back to his room, not bothering with the other bra and panties Veronica had been wearing, but grabbing what he’d stolen before heading up to his room. He took a quick rinsing shower and jerked off with a lacy pair of her boyshorts—careful not to come in them—before falling asleep. He fantasized about of bribing cleaning ladies to let him in the rooms of all the women at the resort, every breast free in the breeze, every skirt hiding a bare skinned secret.

—-

Veronica spent five minutes at the front desk explaining her situation. She made up a story of going for a late-night walk in her pajamas—the loose clothes—and how she accidentally locked herself out. When the woman at the desk left her to get the security manager, Veronica saw herself in the mirror behind the counter, and that her left tit had been exposed the whole time. She blushed furiously, but took some comfort in the fact that these sorts of things happened at hotels all the time…just not usually to her. The security manager came from the back room and smirked a little at her attire. Veronica had covered herself, but she could only do so much.

The security manager, Arlo, had her lead him back to her room, and she felt his eyes on her ass the whole time. He let her in, but made her show him her passport to prove she was the occupant. She dug around in her luggage and retrieved it, and he checked it out, and bid her goodnight. She closed the door, careful not to slam it in her building frustration, and stripped off the clothes in a fit of anger, tossing them in the trash near the bathroom. She took a long shower, scrubbing herself clean twice over. Towards the end, when she started fingering herself, using the shower nozzle to help, she clenched her eyes shut, enjoying herself and hating the reason.

“You’re the pervert.” She said. “*You’re* the fucking pervert.” Over and over until she came. She went to bed in the nude, falling quickly asleep given how late it was. She was late to next day’s seminar, not only due to oversleeping, but spending twenty extra minutes scrambling to find her underwear. There was none to be found, and she had her suspicions why, but she still had to attend the conference, even if it meant going braless—and commando—the rest of the week. She did find her bathing suit, though; it had been in the second drawer of the dresser all along. She never discovered her patio door had not been locked.

—-

“What do you think was happening with the woman?” Clara the night manager asked as Arlo returned from letting the brunette tourist back in her room.

“Midnight tryst? Drunk? Who knows?” He shrugged. “She was who she says she was, though.”

“Did she show you her tits?” Clara asked, grinning.

“On purpose, no, but I saw them just like you saw them. Those weren’t her clothes.”

“That was pretty clear to me, Arlo, and I am not even a security manager.”

“You could show me *your* tits, Clara.” He said. “It’s been a while…carnivale, right?”

“That was a *costume*, Arlo…”

“There wasn’t much of a costume to it.” Arlo thought back to the petite woman in nothing but a domino mask, a grass skirt, and starfish pasties over her nipples. When Clara she shook her hips to the rhythm, she wasn’t shy about the flash of ass or hint of full bush between her legs. He still jerked off to a couple of those pictures every once in a while.

“Go back to sleeping in your office, you horny devil.” She laughed. “Maybe find out how she ended up like that? Find some video to *study*?” She said, making a jerk off gesture with her hand.

“Oh, Clara,” he said, taking her hand making the gesture, “you obviously know what to do, so why don’t you move it lower?” He pressed her hand toward his crotch.

“I’d need to be a lot more drunk, and certainly not in uniform.”

“Both could be arranged,” he teased, but that’s all it really was between them. Some day, maybe, but the job was good for both of them. Arlo left her at the front desk and wandered back to his office. He had been sleeping. He wasn’t really supposed to, but anything the truly needed security in the middle of the night would be serious enough to quickly bring him awake. Letting a nearly naked woman into her room didn’t qualify, regardless of how good she looked.

He decided to take Clara’s advice and scanned the surveillance video for the evening. Around one, according to the video, he watched the woman leave her bungalow in just her underwear. The quality wasn’t great but he could her shapely body, a bit of her nipples. She started walking toward the beach, and he switched camera views, this one much closer in view, and he grinned, seeing her strip down to nothing before dashing into the water. He like to see an American woman with a little hair between her legs. A couple minutes later, a man crept over the dune and stole the woman’s clothes.

“Ah ha!” He said. “The mystery is afoot.” The woman returned from the water, panicked over her lost clothes, and then the man reappeared. Arlo couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they definitely came it some arrangement. The man stripped off his shorts, showing off his lust, and Arlo finally realized the shorts and shirt matched what the woman was wearing. “What did you get in trade, chief?” He asked aloud. The man felt up the woman for a good while, even going as far as to tickle her slit. She looked like she was into it by her facial expression, though he didn’t think the guy could tell that. Arlo was getting hard in his own pants, but the couple stopped, separated, and Arlo just shook his head in confusion as they both started touching themselves. The man came all over the woman, and Arlo laughed as he watched her put the clothes on right over the mess. “Fucking Americans, can’t even have sex the right way.” By the time code, he knew the woman would appear at the front desk just a few minutes later.

Arlo took a couple minutes himself to copy some of the video to his phone. Some fun parts to enjoy later at home, and some interesting parts to show the American woman when he came on shift again tonight.

Yes, he wasn’t supposed to be able to copy the video off the security system, but that had just required a little searching on the internet and the investment in a special cable to connect to his phone. And he certainly wasn’t supposed to blackmail guests with their own activities, but then, what these people did was in public, and they had broken the law. He might be able to get a couple hundred US dollars out of the man—a month’s wages, if he could find the man—the woman, though, well, he knew where she was, and she seemed open to other arrangements.

**END**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/fgzuki/last_resort_mfexhvoymastmdomenf