Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Rita - Gulf Shores by KnightlySeducer

   Rita - Gulf Shores Ch.  01

   Alone at a hotel, she gets daring.

   A conference at a beach resort sounded great.  Maybe I could not only
knock out a few of the CME credits I was required to maintain for my
licensure, but also get in some much need relaxation.  The electronic
brochure that was on my computer looked so inviting, and the price was very
reasonable.

   "When is it?" Tony asked when I called him at work.

   "The third week of May, the 18th to the 21st," I repeated for him as he
checked his calendar.

   "Of this year?  Babe, that's only like ten weeks away," he sounded
exasperated.  I hadn't seen the notice about this regional conference
before, and I assumed that they were trying to garner more business as the
prices were way less than the Annual National Dermatology meeting.

   "Tony, I know it's short notice, but..." I hoped.

   "Gulf Shores?  Man, that would be nice.  You could sun and I could head
out all day on one of those fishing charters..." he said.  "But, Ree, we're
really swamped right now and Klukas just turned in his notice, so we're
gonna be short-handed.  Besides..." Tony seemed to always refer to his
workers by just their last names, not that I really knew any of them.

   "No, it's fine, " I tried to sound nonplussed.  "I just thought we could
have a nice long weekend together without busting the bank."

   Tony could read me well.  "Ree, you go.  If I can get away, I can come
up for the weekend, maybe.  But you should go."

   "I do need the credits, but I'd be bored without you.  It's alright, I
find something else for later in the year."

   "Bored is good.  You'll be in classes most of the time anyhow, then you
can sit out by the pool and read, or just close your eyes and soak in the
sea air and sunshine."

   You'd think, living in Tampa, that would be an everyday experience but
the truth was, we hardly ever went to the beach.  We had a pool out back
and it was such a hassle to load up the kids and the car, trek an hour to
the beach to hunt for a parking spot, then haul everything out on to the
sand, set up -- and then have to do all that in reverse.

   "Seriously, Babe, you should go.  Your mom or Kim can watch the girls.
You need the credits, don't you?"

   "Really, you'd be okay with..."

   "Yeah, it'll be fine," he cut in.  "Go, have fun," he said, waiting to
hear my response.

   "I'll think about it.  I don't have to decide right now."

   "'Kay, love ya.  Gotta run, sexy."

   "Love you too," I said and hung up.

   It was just eight weeks later, not ten.  I had hung up with Tony and sat
looking at the computer for a few minutes.  The beaches looked so inviting,
the room luxurious, and the CME credits were ridiculous.  The beauty of
getting your credits at a conference were that they were so easy, you got
them for basically just showing up.  No end-of-course reviews, nothing to
submit but a course evaluation that most everyone completed before the
lecture started and signing in when you got to the lecture hall.  I
registered and booked a gulf view room before going back to see my
afternoon patients.  I had hoped Tony would agree to come up on the
weekend, but that didn't work out.

   The drive took about eight hours as I stopped for a lazy lunch and some
window shopping in Tallahassee, not in any particular hurry to make it to
the resort, the Perdido Beach Resort, early.  The only thing planned for
the evening was a reception on the pool deck and entertainment -- some
comedian -- and picking up your registration package that had your name
tag, the admission to all the next few days' courses.

   I knew the names of a few of the people in attendance, but seemed to be
the only person from Tampa, which was fine.  Tony -- and the comedian --
both seemed to have the same idea of what the conference was about, and
after a few glasses of wine my mind did wander as I assessed the others in
attendance, mostly dressed in casual beach attire.  Tony had purchased two
new Malibu Strings bikinis for me: a Neon Palms with Triangle top and
Malibu Micro bottom, and the Summer Rainbow, same top style but with a Tiny
Open Triangle bottom.  The comedian made lots of implications about the
beach and all the skin folks would be examining "professionally, of course"
and I had gotten enough exhortations from Tony to "have fun" that I knew
that's really what he wanted me to do.  My exhibitionist tendencies and his
sheer pleasure in hearing about, if he could not actually experience my
flauntings, had me tingling by the time I finally fell asleep completely
nude with the shades and windows open, luxuriating in the sounds of the
waves and the crisp breeze reaching into my third floor room.

   Room service knocked at precisely seven forty-five as I had ordered. 
The lectures began at eight thirty, so I had time to sit and enjoy the
gorgeous morning on the balcony.  His name tag said "Roberto" and he showed
no real reaction as I opened the door in just tiny semi-transparent
tangerine thong panties.

   "Hi," I said waving him in.  "Can you set that on the balcony table
please?"

   "Yes, ma'am" he said.  I did detect a smile as I let him pass.  As he
set the tray down and set the orange juice, coffee, and my fruit and yogurt
out, I took a seat.  He was glancing, very discreetly, at my breasts and
the taut nipples reacting to the morning breeze.  Maybe more than the
breeze.

   "Will that be all, ma'am?" not the slightest double entende' detectable
in his voice.

   "Would you mind?" I asked, handing him my camera, "I want to show my
husband what he's missing."

   Roberto took the camera and lined up the shot of the breakfast, and me
smiling.  Turning the camera, he took another which I noticed later was
quite good, me and the table off to the left and a view of the wide beach
and rolling waves in the background.  I had to wonder how many other women
asked for photos while undressed as he remained very professional and
framed the photos expertly.

   "Anything else, ma'am?" he asked, as he handed back my phone.

   I glanced at the two pictures he had taken and smiled.  "No, I think
these will make him sorry he missed this weekend," a naughty look in my
eyes.

   Roberto just smiled, nodded, and headed out.

   I laughed as I reached for my orange juice.  "My god, Rita, you actually
did that!" I congratulated myself, moving my glass to 'clink' my imaginary
other self.  Tony had said to 'have fun' and I knew what he was hoping
would happen.  He loved me showing myself to others, encouraged it, and had
me tell him every detail of any experiences I had when he wasn't physically
present to observe them himself.  The whole KDE thing had been over for
several years and, while it could have turned both of us off, it had
allowed me to flourish in this side of myself.  I was still as a rule very
private and would not generally give in to Tony's desires -or my own- when
near our home or pretty much anywhere in town.  There were our professional
lives to consider, and our family.  Honestly, while it thrilled me, there
was also always a sense of fear or anxiety.  Perhaps it was the adrenaline
rush, the fear/excitement of the unknown, the risk.  I adored the sexual
tension it filled me with, the arousal, and Tony...  Tony relished
everything about my exhibitionism, the pride in his beautiful wife, the
sensuality of my revealing myself, the having of that which other men
wanted.  It was a total aphrodisiac for him, for both of us, and our love
life soared.

   This time was the first time I had taken a picture of one of my
exposures.  He would know immediately from the angle that it was not a
selfie, that someone was there, with my breasts bared, nipples firm and
within reach - in the daylight!

   "Good morning, my lover" I texted with the two photos and hit send.

   "OMG" came back in seconds, followed by that emoticon with the wide eyes
and tongue hanging out.  I laughed.

   "who?" followed in another second.

   "roberto, with room service.  perfect gentleman." I typed.  I knew he
had no worries, knew I was completely his, but I had to let him know that
the pictures were all, that nothing else occurred.

   "you just made both our days!!" Tony sent me in another few moments.

   I snapped a selfie and sent it.  The caption read "I think he probably
liked these too" and showed me standing by the railing in my tangerine
thong, my breasts hard above the rail and bathed in the sun.

   "fuck!  we'll both be beating off later" a small emoticon of an erection
following.

   I loved that Tony and I shared this, that he and I were both aroused and
delightfully provoked by my showing myself.

   "classes in 10 min, gotta go.  Love you!" I typed and headed inside to
dress.

   As I have said, professionally I am rather conservative in my dress.  I
went for a long time in slacks and scrubs, thinking I was covering up.  And
I was, but not as much as I thought.  Tony pointed out to me that I always
liked my slacks fitting, as I did my scrubs and though they didn't reveal
me like a short skirt might, once I was aware - with my Darling's help -, I
could see that often my panties were clearly outlined, and my beautiful
feminine flower showed as what is referred to as a camel toe.  Now, as part
of my exhibitionist tendency, if I do have on slacks I make sure they are
fitting enough and lightweight enough to show a cameltoe so I can
'innocently' be revealing my body.  The same goes for my bras.  They had
always been 'normal,' with those fiber/foam cups.  Now, if I am even
wearing a bra, it is unlined and pretty thin so that my breasts move about
and my seemingly always excited nipples can show themselves.  Tony loves
it, and both of us seem to notice that lots of other folks like my attire
as well, while I pretend to be oblivious.

   Already excited by my daring encounter with Roberto earlier, my
tangerine thong was sunk between my labia emphasizing my feminine cleft as
I slipped on a lightweight pair of bone colored high waisted slacks that I
particularly liked.  While not skin-tight, the cut was such that through
the crotch they fit in the most provocative way without being obscene. 
There was no doubt to anyone who looked, and after years of Tony helping me
notice how many did look, that there was most assuredly a woman underneath
them.  I argued with myself about my top and whether or not to wear a bra.
My breasts are not huge, firm Bs -- almost a C.  They don't swing to and
fro, but sway seductively if one is watching.  My quarter sized areola are
only slightly darker than my breasts, hardly drawing attention themselves,
but my nipples, perfectly centered and almost half the diameter of the
areola, are very reactive and when stimulated -- seemingly at times always!
-- are about a half inch in length.  I wanted to go without a bra, but
knowing that invariably these conference centers were always cold and that
some pretense of professionalism had to be maintained, I opted for flesh
toned, lace demi-cup under a floral print, button up silk blouse.  A thin
navy-blue leather belt and matching two inch kitten heels completed my
professional ensemble.

   The name tag was on one of those thingies that hung around your neck,
and while it meant I didn't have to pin it on my silk blouse I would have
rather clipped it on my waist or something.  As I looked around in the
first session of the morning for a seat, I changed my mind about the name
tag as an MD from Wisconsin said hi while staring at my chest.

   "I'm sorry," he said looking a bit guilty, "I was trying to read your
name," he finished as his eyes came up top meet mine.

   I smiled and turned it so he could read it, leaving it right between my
breasts.

   "HI, Rita from Tampa," he smiled broadly offering his hand.  "I see
you're an NP."

   "HI," I returned his smile.  "Thom from Janesville, Wisconsin.  Long way
from home, huh?"

   "Well, yeah, came down here to get away from the frigid north.  Maybe
see a beach that doesn't freeze in the winter."

   I noticed no ring on his hand.  "And maybe some women not wearing
parkas?"

   He had a crooked grin.  "Lots of parkas in Janesville.  And flannel."

   I smiled, "Like that guy said last night, there should be lots of skin
to check out by the pool.  Probably won't be a parka in sight, and I doubt
much flannel."

   Thom from Janesville pulled out the chair next to his at the table and
nodded.

   "Thanks, I generally like to sit a little closer to the speaker.  Have a
good conference," I replied and walked further into the room.  I knew he
was watching me walk away, - and that he'd see no pantyline.

   "Anyone sitting here?" I asked the two guys with their heads down
reading the course curriculums in front of them at a table about a third of
the way from the back.

   "Nope," said the one on the right without looking up, while the one on
the left turned to glance in my direction.  Well not at me, when he turned
he was looking at my middle.  That split second hesitation, which I would
not have recognized years ago, let me know he'd seen my womanly curves. 
His eyes stopped, just for a tiny bit, and then came upward.

   "Uh, hi," he said sliding his chair back and smiling.  He stood and said
"Yeah, please join us," as he pulled the chair between them out.

   I bent and set my papers down, wishing I had not buttoned my blouse all
the way up.  I wanted to tease, he was really cute.

   "I'm Greg.  Greg Blacksmith," he continued to smile at me.

   Still bent over, I reached out and turned my name tag dangling between
my breasts toward him, "Rita from Tampa," I said, intentionally asking him
to look, hoping he'd look.

   "Oh, you're an NP?" Greg said as he sat back in his seat.  Just then a
voice came from my right.  "Al Jurison," I heard him say.

   I swung my body toward him and held out my nametag as I had for Greg,
"Rita from Tampa.  Pleasure to meet you both," I smiled as I sat down.

   "Tampa, huh?  We're neighbors," said Greg.  "I'm out of Lakeland."

   "Charlotte," said Al.

   And so it went with each session throughout the morning.  I'd find seat,
be pleasant and daydream about naughty things as someone rambled on about
this or that dermatological concern or issue.  I met, as such, a number of
colleagues and collected a few cards while handing out my own.  I had,
between the first and second session, taken the opportunity to undo a
button on my blouse so it was a bit more open, as well as adjust myself in
my bra.  The top edges of the demi-cups were tickling my nipples almost to
distraction, so I moved my breasts around a bit to break the constant
contact.

   Tony had suggested, encouraged, cajoled me about having fun.  This
morning started great, but I was feeling less than enthused about the
sessions.  Over lunch I decided to lose my bra, and had a sandwich I picked
up at the hotel deli in my room as I sat topless outside on the balcony. 
The sun felt so amazing on my naked breasts, and I wondered foolishly how
it would feel to attend the two afternoon session dressed like this.  To be
honest, there were times I sincerely missed -- craved -- the DKE
hospitality suite, being all but naked with all those men wanting me.  The
crude comments meant as compliments, the hands furtively touching -some
less gentle -, eyes touching and caressing every part of me, and wondering
openly about what was hidden by the panties I still wore.  I never left any
doubt I had full bush, the panties couldn't cover every stray hair.  Full
is perhaps a misnomer, my labia were free of hair, courtesy lately of laser
treatment but for years carefully shaven.  I smiled at the recollection of
those times; the feeling of being lusted after and wanted so openly, the
power of my body over so many men.  Horribly frightening at first, I'd come
to relish headiness and excitement, the delight I felt in being so wanted,
savored by so many men in their dreams, deriving honest pleasure in the
sexual tension during the conventions, and again when I shared every moment
with Tony who took as much pleasure in my escapades as I did.  It was our
aphrodisiac, our foreplay, a powerful, intoxicating shared enjoyment.

   The alarm on my phone went off, recalling me to the present.  Smiling, I
stood, leaned against the glass railing and snapped a selfie to send to
Tony.  It was then that I noticed the number on my phone; a message sent at
7:51?

   I opened the app and shook my head.  That sneaky Roberto had sent
himself, I guessed, the first photo of me at the table this morning, as he
"lined up" the more panoramic one he took capturing the beach and ocean.  I
was flattered that the young man had thought me pretty enough to want a
picture of me topless -- I'm sure he didn't know those breasts had suckled
two kids -- but also concerned.  It would take nothing for him to look up
my name, he had it on the room charge for sure, and he might post the
picture where someone who knew me or Tony could find it.

   I sent the selfie I had just taken to Tony.  "blouse or no blouse for my
afternoon sessions?" I teased.  It took a couple minutes for him to get
back to me during which I decided I needed to be more cautious and put my
bra back on before slipping on my blouse as I needed to maintain a façade
of professionalism among my peers, but I left the top button undone.  Well,
but accidents do happen; I undid another button just as my phone buzzed. 
It was Tony calling.

   "Hi handsome man," I cooed.

   "Bobby says no blouse," Tony deadpanned.

   "What?!" I instinctively put my hand over my chest, though Bobby had
seen me topless before.

   Tony laughed, "Sorry, I was on the shop floor and he answered the phone
when it buzzed.."

   "Tony, you always carry your phone!  What if one of the guys was in the
office instead of Bobby?" I said shocked.

   "You're right, Babe.  I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

   "It's fine, I guess.  It's...  it's been years since he...  Kim and I
were drunk...." I really don't know why it bothered me so much.  I suppose
it was that he was family, and that you don't show your tits to your
sister's husband.  It didn't bother me in the least that Tony had seen
Kim's at the same time, or even that he had commented on them a few times.
This was, I don't know, it was my brother-in-law, it was unexpected, and
the photo was for Tony.

   "You look great in this pic," Tony said, I guessed looking at his phone
as we spoke.  "I think you'd distract a lot of folks if you went downstairs
without your blouse, however, so..."

   I laughed, "Ya think?  But I'm sure I'd get some job offers, and I
wouldn't even have to go by the Resources booth."

   "You'd get offers, for sure, but maybe not for what you're thinking," he
said, trying to sound serious.

   "I know," I sighed.  "Babe, that guy this morning, Roberto, he.., it
looks like he sent himself or someone the photo of me at the table this
morning..."

   "What?" he said with an edge in his voice.  Tony encouraged and reveled
in my being seen, but somehow, as I too felt, different to 'steal' a photo
of me.

   "Well, I was going to text you.  I mean, just now, when I sent you my
picture, and I noticed a text from my phone to a number I didn't know.  I
clicked and it's my picture sent to this strange number..."

   "He's probably just gonna whack off while staring at the most gorgeous
woman on Earth.  I'm sure he's going to imagine cumming all over your
fabulous breasts," I could hear him smiling, but it was him trying to
assure me all was fine.  I adored when Tony came on me; I'd lie if I said I
never thought about it with others.  To have a man orgasm wanting me...  a
flush ran through my body.  Not having me, but the power to have then cum
just wanting....

   "Tony.." I whispered.

   "Text me the number, Ree" the edge back in his voice.

   "What are you going to do?" I asked.

   "Just make sure he understands I'm..  we're, not angry with him having
the photo, but that it's only for him, not to share.  And that he should
have asked."

   "Okay," I said softly.  "you're not upset I let him..."

   "No, Ree, it was hot, very hot." I could hear the sincerity of 'very
hot.' "I wouldn't have minded if he shot ten or twenty pictures of you. 
Even completely naked, but he shouldn't just take them without asking.  And
I know we don't want them floating around for anyone to find." His tone was
flat, even.

   "Okay," I answered with a sense of serenity.  "I love you."

   "I love you, Rita.  More and more everyday," I heard the smile return to
his voice.

   "I'll call tonight, but I better get back to my classes, okay?"

   "Okay, we'll talk later."

   "Bye, my love."

   "Hey, relax and have fun.  Don't worry about anything.  I love you. 
Bye."

   I giggled.  "Have fun?  You're so fuckin' messed up, Babe."

   "Yes, we are.  Later, sweetheart."

   Tony texted about forty-five minutes later with an attached photo.  "is
this roberto" I replied "yes" not even wondering how he found a picture of
the guy, but sure that he was taking care of me.

   The last session of the day was on Male Genital Skin Conditions.  It
reminded me of the Dermatologist's rule of thumb -- "if you don't know what
it is, don't touch it; if you do know what it is, you don't have to touch
it." I was having a difficult time concentrating, daydreaming about the
"after" pictures the lecturer was putting up -- once all those scrotums and
penises were normal looking.  I like cocks, and I suppose just like guys
like pussies, I find each one unique.

   I returned to my room with a grin on my face, thinking about the male
anatomy and anxious to head out to the pool to soak in the sun.  I know,
not smart for a person who knows what sun damage can do to skin, but I
planned (as I always do) to have myself covered in sunblock.  And little
else!

   The flower and envelope on the bed caught my attention as soon as I
walked in.  I dropped my bag and sat on the bed taking the envelope and
pulling the note out.

   "Mrs.  Gunter, I am very sorry for causing you any discomfort.  It was
not my intention to do so, but I never thought such a beautiful woman would
ever allow me the privilege of having a picture of herself enjoying
breakfast as you were.

   I have explained to your husband that the photograph will never be
posted anywhere and your name will never be made public, though I cannot
promise that others won't see it on my cell.  You are simply too lovely for
me to not show my friends who will never believe me otherwise.  Mr.  Gunter
has said he finds this acceptable, but that it is totally up to you.  I
have agreed to abide by your decision -- just text me on the number you
found on your phone.

   I apologize again for taking the photo without asking.  I hope you
understand and take it as a compliment to your exquisite beauty.  Your
husband is the luckiest man in the world.

   R."

   The smile on my face almost hurt.  I have never found out what Tony
said, or how he ever reached this guy, but I knew all was well; every worry
melted from my mind about the photo and Roberto.  This young man was
articulate too, and I found that very sexy.  The thought of what I had
done, greeting god-knows-who in the morning in nothing but skimpy panties,
inviting him in, and having him take a photo of me -- two!  -- with my hard
nipples poking out at him seemed suddenly even more erotic than I
remembered from the morning.

   I went to change, still with my heart dancing.  Tony was happy, had made
sure all was okay.  In the mirror, there was no doubt I was feeling the
butterflies.  My breasts were feeling fuller, and those ever stimulated
nipples of mine that Tony adored were puffed out as much as I had ever
recalled.  All of me was participating in the excitement; my outer labia
engorged, and the inner, soft, wings dangling and glistening.

   I laid out both suits, trying to decide which I would wear as I
slathered all of me with sunscreen and worked it in, perhaps more
enthusiastically than necessary and in places I intended -- hoped?  -- knew
I should?  - keep covered.

   Still nude, I took a picture of the note and flower and sent it to Tony
with only the shape of a heart attached.  I sent another with my two suits,
asking which he wanted me showing off in.

   I cropped the selfie I had sent Tony earlier showing both my breasts and
my thong covered pussy by the railing, cutting off part of my face, and
sent it to Roberto.

   "Thought you'd like this one too.  Keep both.  Can you bring breakfast
tomorrow, same time?  I'm hoping the light is good so I can get some more
pics for sharing.....  with my husband.  I hope you'll help" - a blushing
emoticon ended my message.

   Tony sent back his choice of suits and all caps "HAVE FUN!!!!"

   I pulled on my suit and adjusted everything in the mirror, then tossed
on my cover-up, stepped into my sandals, and headed off to the pool for
some afternoon exposure.  To the sun, silly.....  *wink*



   Rita - Gulf Shores Ch.  02

   Rita's convention weekend continues outside the courses.

   I know it was terribly risky, but that also made it very exciting, so I
choose a chair -- a lounger, really -- along the far side of the pool and
dropped the luxurious towel I'd gotten from the basket near the entrance to
the pool across it.  There were two pools, one for families with kids that
had a shallow wading area, and the main one probably fifty by twenty-five
yards and running from three feet to a little over six feet in depth.  That
didn't preclude children or families, of course, but there seemed to be a
reasonable amount of self-selection.

   I stretched out the towel over the lounger and slipped off my coverup.
Having already applied the sunscreen while in the room, there was little
more for me to do than slip off my shoes, stretch out, and enjoy the sun's
warm caress.  I'd opted for the Neon Palms with Triangle top and Malibu
Micro bottom; despite its name, the Micro actually covered more of me that
the Tiny bottom did.  Go figure!  Laying on my back, hat pulled down
shading my face and sunglasses, I could spy on the eyes spying on me.  It
tickled me that there were more than a few.

   By the time I had been lying there for fifteen minutes, the crowd on the
pool deck doubled, mostly guys in two's and three's sitting around with
drinks and eyeing the women around the pool.  I was pretty sure that was a
result of the convention's afternoon sessions having concluded.  I
recognized a few faces from the earlier sessions, but instead of giving me
reason to remain obscure it made me feel naughty.  Stretching, I doffed my
sunglasses and hat and walked casually to the edge of the pool and took a
seat putting my feet into the water.  The mix was decidedly in my favor;
there had to be fifteen or twenty guys to every woman poolside, and if you
discounted the one's definitely with a guy already, the "available" ladies
had lots of eyes on them.  Tony always reminds me NOT to discount the
married or attached ones, even those playing with their kids; guys aren't
thinking with their brains.  There's still a Neanderthal in every male
psyche simply thinking about basic sex at every opportunity and sure he
could displace any other male as the alpha.

   Truth was, I wasn't competing with anyone; there wasn't going to be any
sex and no one was replacing Tony.  I was scratching an itch, it made me
feel good to be wanted, to tease, and yes, to expose my body.  I'd
suppressed that for years, thinking that's not how wives and mothers are
supposed to think or behave, not how a woman was supposed to act, and that
wanting,- seeking - , the attention was wrong.  Honestly, the Romance novel
industry shatters that myth every day, year after year, and while most
women who enjoy that genre will tell you it's just escapist fantasy, every
one has the desire to be wanted, desired, and swept up in the fantasy.  The
housewives who made the Fifty Shades series a best seller may not walk
around in the bikini I was now wearing, but they wish they could -- and
that naughty things were part of their lives too!  I'm thrilled that it's a
very important and recognized part of my life, and that Tony and I can
share it.  Women have libidos, we (society in the Western world) just put
such onerous constraints on it and hideous labels on women who act on that.

   Suddenly angry, and proud, I slipped into the water and swam the length
of the pool until I reached the steps on the far side.  I stood, shook my
head and pushed my hair back, then strode up the steps and walked -- no, I
sauntered -- three-fourths of the way around the pool deck back to my
lounger.  I bent, ass toward the pool, and straightened out the towel, then
lay back down on my back arranging my hat and sunglasses.

   My one concession was that before I exited the water I had made sure my
bottom hadn't moved too much and that none of the lady parts were exposed.
Well, not obscenely anyhow.  I have long, delicate butterfly wings "down
there," and in such a smallish bottom, even if you tuck everything in to
begin with, there's always a chance that there will be some exposure. 
Being unlined and moving at all produced a clear cameltoe, and as I only
shave around my labia, with this bottom there was definitely some hair
visible along the top.  By the time I took my seat, I knew I had plenty of
attention -- and a few scowls from the more "proper" women.

   "Anything to drink, ma'am?"

   I turned to find a very cute barhop in khaki shorts and a hotel logo
polo shirt bending over me.

   Oh, what the hell.  "Whiskey.  Irish.  Neat." I replied, pulling my
sunglasses down to get a better look at the young man.  The nametag said
"Bradley."

   "Yes, ma'am.  I be right back," and he was gone.  I hoped the room
keycard worked as a charge card too, as It was all I had brought with me.
Tony usually took care of all this when we were on vacation, charging it
"to the room," and I had honestly just never paid attention.

   Bradley was back pretty quickly, sliding a little wicker table next to
my lounge as he appeared.  "Your Irish whiskey, ma'am," he said as he set
the glass down on the table within easy reach.

   Acting confidently, I handed him my room key and said, "Put it on my
room, please."

   "No need.  It's taken care of, ma'am" and he started to turn.

   I grabbed his wrist.  "Bradley, please stop with the ma'am stuff.  I'm
Rita."

   "Yes, ma'am.  Ah, Rita..." giving me a strange look as I still had hold
of his wrist.

   "My drink is taken care of?" I asked, taking off my sunglasses but not
releasing my grip.

   "Yes, ma...Rita.  That gentleman..."

   I tugged at him, "Don't turn and don't point, please, Bradley," I
smiled. "Squat down here, please, and just let me know who it was that
bought me this drink."

   Bradley did squat, but again began to turn his head, "it was that..."

   "Bradley?" I said in that motherly tone.  He looked me in the eyes.  I
let go of his wrist and took my drink.

   "Sorry," he said instinctively.  Use the right tone and a man will
apologize without even knowing what he did wrong.

   "It's fine.  I just don't want him to know I know who he is," I smiled
as coyly as I could, then winked.

   Bradley smiled too.  I took a sip.

   "Mmm.  Jameson's?"

   Bradley smiled again.  "Yeah.  You know your whiskey," still looking at
my eyes.  Mostly; the unlined top had a couple of bumps drawing his eyes
too.

   I smiled back, running my finger over the back of his hand that laid on
the edge of the lounge where I let go of it.  "I do.  Lots of other things
I know too..." I purred.  I slipped my glasses back on with the other hand,
still running little circles on the back of his hand.  "So, who is my
secret admirer?"

   "Just about straight across the pool and to the right.  Ah, I mean,
left. Your left....  The table with the green umbrella and three guys?"

   I grinned.  "There are two tables with green umbrellas, and both have
three guys at them."

   "The three guys in suits..."

   Drug reps.  Lady-killers.  Sales guys who think they can talk anyone
into anything.  Or out of anything!  These pharma companies hire for looks
and brains, or at least charm, though they have to learn a ton of
information about their own products and the competition's.  They were
probably here manning the company booths in the trade show portion of the
convention.

   I took another slow sip, savoring the whiskey I'd grown up drinking.  It
was good, familiar, reassuring.

   "Uh-huh," I looked back into Bradley's eyes.  "which one?"

   "Light blue shirt..., with the orange and blue striped tie?" he intoned,
asking if I had narrowed my search.

   "Hmm," I said as I took another sip.

   "Bradley?" I turned all my attention back to him.  "Thank you," I placed
my hand over his.  "Just one more thing..."

   "Sure."

   "Is there a place around where I lady could, um, get a more complete
tan?"

   He looked confused for a couple seconds.  Then his mouth partially
opened as comprehension lit up his thoughts.  "Uh, like a tanning booth?"

   I smiled and slid my glasses to the edge of my nose so he could clearly
see my eyes.  "What fun would that be?  I was thinking more...  outside?"

   His eyes literally left mine and scanned me slowly down to my feet and
back up to my own playful eyes.  I could almost see the thoughts of his
eighteen or nineteen year-old brain.  He definitely liked women!

   "Ahhh, some of, ahh, our European guests....  the beach, to the left,
there are about a dozen lounge chairs and umbrellas....  Kinda down a
bit... You could, ah, go topless there.  Ah, I mean..." he blushed.

   "Topless would be nice, don't you think?" I stared into him.  His eyes
went to my chest, then back to mine.  He just nodded.

   "I could still get a drink down there, couldn't I?"

   He nodded again.  More pleading than statement he added, "I could make
sure you got anything you needed..."

   I looked very conspicuously at the tent in his shorts, then back at him
and winked.  "I'm sure you could, Bradley.  But it would be just drinks,
I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't want me stealing you away."

   He stammered, "No she..., I, um, no I didn't mean, uh..." he looked
horrified.

   I smiled and placed my hand over his.  "Yes you did, but it's fine.  I'm
very flattered."

   "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he rattled, still flustered.

   "Bradley, really, it's fine.  There's no problem and I'm not going to
report anything to anyone." I shook my head and smiled.

   "I should, uh, I should go." He stood and rearranged the front of his
shorts as unobtrusively as possible.

   "Thank you," I smiled holding up my glass.  "Maybe you'll see me
tomorrow?"

   He blushed and walked off to take other guest's orders.

   I took another long sip of the Jameson's, glancing across the pool.  The
three men were watching me and talking amongst themselves.  Somehow, I was
sure it was about me, - or what they wanted to do to/with me.  I loved
teasing and taunting, but just had an inexplicable dislike for them. 
Perhaps from interactions I had at the office with other sales reps, or
maybe one of them reminded me of someone I'd known and couldn't quite
recall.

   I drew my legs up and put my feet on the outer edges of the lounge,
knees apart.  Yep, lots of nods, stupid grins, and glances at each other
and at me.  I sat up, put my feet on the ground on either side of the
lounge and swallowed the rest of the drink.  They were grinning like
Cheshire cats though I was the one in control of what they saw, the one
running the show.  Rising and turning my back to them, toward the plant
covered wall that ran the length of the pool deck, I readjusted the suit
bottom to be sure my labia were inside the bottom edge, and a little more
pubic hair showed at the top.  There'd be no doubt in their minds.  I
turned and strode around the pool to stand in front of them.

   From where I stopped, I could almost see them drooling, still rather
cocky.

   "Which of you do I have to thank for the drink?" I smiled sweetly.

   "That would be me," smiled the slightly older of them.  With a knowing
glance at the other two he added, "but I think we're all grateful, just to
have you come over here to say hi." None of them were very discreet about
their eyes roaming over me.

   Okay, there was that something I still disliked, but my body adored the
looks.

   "I'm Karl," the drink buyer said, "how were you thinking about thanking
me?"

   I let a little grin turn up the corners of my mouth.  "Are you going to
invite me to join you, or do you just want me to stand here and let you
stare?"

   The older guy chuckled, "That's' a kinda tough choice," as he looked me
over.

   "Well then," I said, and turned to face the pool, my ass now two feet
from the closest of them and uncovered except for the tiny triangle that
joined the hip straps to the single thin strap that disappeared between my
glutes.  I took another step and turned back to them.

   "Does that make the choice easier or harder?" I smiled wickedly, running
the fingers of my left hand over the top edge of my bikini bottom to focus
their attention on the pubic hair curling out there.

   "Definitely harder," said the one on the right.

   "Yeah, harder for sure," added the one on the left laughing at his own
pun.  Even in their suit pants, I could see the appreciative responses of
the wingmen.

   The guy on the left finished his grinning and now sat there with his
mouth slightly open intently staring at my bottom, I think trying to engage
his x-ray vision to see how much pubic hair I had - and the rest of my
pussy as well.  None of the suit was lined, so they all were getting a
pretty well-defined idea of that area anyhow.  The abstract patches of
color on the suit only hid so much, the fabric itself being so thin that it
looked painted on.

   "How long you been married?" I asked the distracted young man.

   He looked up at me with a blank look.

   "Married.  How long?" I asked again, waving my left hand and my rings in
front of his face, and then pointing to the band on his left hand.  My
wedding band and the engagement ring Tony had given me long ago were always
on my hand proudly.

   He went bright red.

   "You all need to call your wives, and tell them what a bore this
convention is, and how you're just sitting in your room watching TV," I
said as I looked at each face.  Only the oldest guy returned my gaze, the
other two had their eyes down.

   "Thanks for the drink," I said to him politely.  "I hope you feel you've
been repaid." He nodded without looking away.  There was still something in
his look, - a haughtiness, - entitlement, - something.

   I laughed aloud.  That seemed to confuse him.

   "What?" he asked.

   I grinned and shook my head.  He looked at the two other men who also
seemed confused and shrugged and held up their hands.  I had noticed that
the Lothario was all talk and no visible sign of his interest was showing
in his pants.  I made a mental note too, that the clear acrylic tabletops
hid nothing below, giving me naughty ideas for myself later.

   I turned and walked confidently back around the pool to my lounge,
knowing that they were staring at my backside the entire way, - and trying
to figure out why I'd laughed.

   The rap on my hotel room door at seven forty-five, just like the day
before, indicated my breakfast had arrived.  The conference sessions didn't
start until nine this morning, a concession from the planners I supposed as
it was Saturday morning.  In the tee-shirt, I knew my nipples would be
visible, as would the sway of my breasts, but they wouldn't be in plain
sight as they had been yesterday.

   "Good morning, Mrs.  Gunter," Roberto smiled.  "Shall I bring in your
breakfast?"

   "Good morning, Roberto.  Yes, please.  I'll have it on the balcony
again, if you don't mind?"

   For just a second I noticed his glance hesitate, perhaps disappointed
that I was covered up this morning, but he proceeded to enter with the food
tray in one hand and the serving dolly in the other, and headed out to set
up by the balcony table.  I slid into the seat opposite where he was
serving from, hiking the t-shirt up as I sat so I was bare assed on the
cool metal seat.  Like the tables out by the pool, this one too had a clear
acrylic top.

   "Did you sleep well, ma'am?" he asked as he retrieved the first dish and
turned toward me, stopping cold.  My legs were closed, but the t-shirt was
up at my waist, and the thick mass of my curly black pubic hairs was quite
visible.

   Roberto's smile went from professional pleasant to genuine thrilled. 
His hand holding my bacon, egg, and tomato omelet stopped in mid air as his
eyes went to my waist, then met my own and went back to my pussy again.

   "is there a problem?" I asked as innocently as I could, allowing my
knees to part about six inches, giving him a bit more of a view of my bush.

   His eyes came up to meet mine.  "No, not at all, Mrs.  Gunter," he
replied, setting the plate down well to my right so as to not block his
view, and turning back to the tray.

   As Roberto came back to face me, I grinned at the tightening of his
hotel issue pants.  His eyes were focused on the table, or should I say,
through it, as he lowered the coffee cup and set it to my left.

   "I think it would be alright, under the circumstances, if while you're
here, that you call me Rita," I smiled, moving my right foot back a bit and
bringing my knees another few inches apart.

   "Mr.  Gunter might not.."

   "My husband knows that I like to be seen, and he likes me being seen,
alright?"

   He raised his eyes to mine and looked at me deeply, his eyes seemingly
near tears.  "Would you take off your shirt please, Rita, you have the most
sensuous, wonderful breasts I have ever seen anywhere?"

   "You want me to have my breakfast completely nude?" I asked in mocked
surprise.

   "Please..."

   I smiled, "Well, as you said please..." The t-shirt came off and I laid
it over the arm of the other chair.

   "My god." He said.  I was sure the pants he was wearing got tighter.  As
did my nipples responding to his admiration.

   "Could you pour me some coffee, please?" I nodded to my empty cup.

   As he did, I asked "Did your friends like the pictures?"

   His hand shook but he got all the coffee in the cup and none spilled.

   I began to cut into the omelet.  "Did they?" It tasted delicious as I
kept my eyes on the flustered young man, a smile curling my lips.

   "Tony and I both said you could have the pictures, even when you said
you'd show them to your friends," I said after finishing the bite and still
not getting an answer.  "So, did you show them to your friends?" Another
bite of the omelet, just as delicious, went between my lips.

   He nodded, "Just a few," he said apologizing.

   I smiled, "And?" I asked.

   "They asked if I got them out of a magazine or off the net, that no
woman that beautiful would ever let me take pictures of her..." he smiled,
his eyes continuing to dart to my chest which remained stiff in response to
his hungry looks, and more often now to my lower regions when he thought I
didn't notice.

   "You took them without permission," I stated plainly, taking the last of
the omelet into my mouth.

   He looked chastised.  "I know.  I'm sorry," he exhaled.  "But Rita, you
were, - are- , so beautiful, the most exquisite, most magnificent woman I
have ever seen!" he said with unabashed honesty.  "I swore to them that you
were real, and that...." he stopped abruptly.

   "That what?" I asked with concern.

   He lowered his eyes, and not to any part of my body, but the floor.

   "It was stupid.....  I said I'd get you holding the menu, the room
service menu, so they knew you were actually here and that I had not made
you up."

   I almost laughed.  I was afraid he'd broken his agreement and given my
name or my room number out to the whole staff.

   I picked up the menu with the hotel name on the front and pushed my
chair away from the table.  I got up and moved the chair away a bit more,
along the clear glass wall railing, certain that Roberto was staring at my
naked ass the whole time.

   Taking my seat again, as demurely as a naked, stimulated woman can, I
asked, "Do you have your camera?"

   His eyes got as big as one of those funny emojis with the googly eyes
and he nodded, digging in his pocket.

   He swung the cellphone up to his face.

   "Not yet," I smiled.  "You have to promise, like before, that you won't
identify me, that my face will be cropped out of ALL pictures, and that
they'll never be put on the internet, anywhere," I finished with a stern
mom look.

   A naked woman sitting on a balcony with glass walls and protesting that
she doesn't want to be seen on the internet nude, in front of a guy with a
cellphone that she is about to pose for seemed incongruent - but Roberto
swore that he would keep them all private.  I believed him.  I wondered
later if I even cared.

   "Did your friends say anything else?" I batted my eyes.

   Roberto put the cell phone at his side, looking embarrassed.

   "What was it?"

   Still he hesitated.

   I ran a finger around my right nipple.  "Did they want to play with my
breasts?"

   He smiled and nodded, "They wanted to suck on them.  And Tico said he'd
nibble and squeeze on them for hours, that they looked delicious."

   I tugged on both nipples, pulling my breasts up and letting them drop.

   "Did you want to suck on them too?" He nodded.

   "And the other picture?"

   He swallowed hard, staring at me, his hard-on obvious just five feet
away.  "Charlie said he wished you didn't have panties on so he could see
your pussy.  Tico and Phil said they bet you tasted real sweet and would
eat and fuck you for hours..." he stopped, looking embarrassed by his
language.

   I was sitting on the seat, feet apart but my knees together, the menu
laying on my thighs.

   "Do you want to see my pussy, Roberto?" I asked earnestly, looking into
his eyes.  I knew I was wet, this tease making me very, very hot.

   "Yes, very much..." he answered.

   "How would you like the picture?" I asked taking the menu in my hand. 
"Like this?" I held it above my bush as I sat up tall, a breast on either
side of the laminated card.

   "Or like this?" I purred, spreading my knees wide apart, my swollen
labia slick and clearly visible, I could feel them parting just a bit,
revealing plainly my own arousal.  The flirting, the bantering, and
provocativeness were fueling my own yearnings.

   His mouth opened, but no sound came out, his eyes craving every bit of
me, my intimacy exposed to him in the clear, warm, full sun of the
cloudness morning.

   I sat, letting him stare, my legs open, my femininity proudly displayed.

   "Did you beat off last night, thinking about me?" I asked coyly, deeply
curious.

   He smiled, "Yes I did," his hand unconsciously, I thought, going to his
pants restricted erection.  I wanted so badly to ask him to release his
solid cock, but fought the ravenous urge.  I would let him, Tico, Charlie,
Phil, and whoever else he chose to show the images, to take me in their
dreams, to cum repeatedly by my inspiration, my lewdness, to use me as
their sexual muse.

   My eyes lit up, "Well, then you ought to get a bunch more pictures so
you, and your friends, - all your friends - can all think about fucking me
silly, right?"

   "Yes ma'am, Mrs.  Gunter," he responded with a bright smile and got down
on one knee to frame the first shot with the menu above my saturated,
unguarded pussy, my hard-teeted breasts above.  I wondered, felt sure, that
my clit was engorged such that it must be visible to him.  I hoped it was,
for him, for all of them, to see and yearn to taste, imagining themselves
flicking it with their tongues, teasing it with their fingers, and slamming
into it as they drove their swollen phalluses deep into me repeatedly.

   Another forty-two followed.  I viewed each and cropped my face out of
them all, after we first sent them all on to Tony who was enthusiastic in
support, and even suggested a couple pictures for us.  The last was another
"proof of reality" selfie picture with Roberto kneeling beside me, my bush
and tits showing to the left of his smiling face against my side.  Nobody
could see his other hand grabbing my ass....  Tony knows, he suggested it!