Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Bequest by Hstoner

   A relationship built on showing off.

   I first met Karen Wynne when she came to my office in early May.  I had
left a large law firm after three years and had opened my own shop about
eighteen months earlier.  Any potential client was very welcome.  The fact
that this potential client appeared to be a beautiful young woman was a
bonus.

   Karen, I would learn later, was my age; just under thirty.  She was
about 5'7'' -- 5'8".  Her shoulder-length brown hair framed a face with big
blue eyes; a small, upturned nose; prominent cheekbones; and a strong jaw
below a wide mouth.  Although she was dressed in a conservative women's
business suit, I suspected an excellent figure.  She also had a dazzling
smile.

   Karen had been referred by a mutual friend who worked at my old law
firm. "My parents died in a small plane crash while I was in college,"
Karen explained.  "Once they were gone, my closest relatives were my Aunt
Beth, Mom's older sister, and her husband, Uncle Dave.  Dave passed away
about five years ago.  Beth died two weeks ago.  The couple that helped her
run her business came me these papers at the funeral."

   Karen handed me a sheaf of legal-size papers.  The first document I read
was a trust declaration for the "Birch Trails Resort Trust." Reading that
quickly, I saw that the Trust owned all the assets of something called
"Birch Trails Resort." The original trustees had been David and Elizabeth
Carson, with Beth Carson becoming sole trustee upon Dave's death.  Upon
Beth's death, all property of the Trust passed to Karen.  The second
document, dated only a year earlier, created the Elizabeth M.  Carson
Trust. The trustee was a large bank.  The Beth Carson Trust said that all
assets in that trust passed to Karen five years after Beth's death on
condition that Karen owned and operated Birch Trails Resort continuously
for those five years.  Otherwise, everything in that trust went to a couple
of charities.

   "What is in your aunt's trust?" I asked Karen.  In answer, Karen handed
me a statement from the trustee bank dated in April of that year.  The
trust held cash and securities valued at just under $ 10 million.  "Holy
shit!" I exclaimed unthinkingly.

   "Yeah," Karen replied.

   "What is this 'Birch Trails Resort?'" I asked.

   Karen blushed.  "It's, uh, well, it's a nudist resort about 70 miles
east of town," she said.  I guess the surprised look on my face called for
more explanation.  "Dave was a talented electrical engineer," Karen said.
"He invented some things and got a number of patents years ago.  The
royalties from those made him and Beth pretty wealthy.  They had some
hippie in them, and they didn't have any children.  They bought the resort
years ago, to 'get out of the rat race" Beth said.  They lived out there."

   "Have you been there?" I asked.

   "Of course not!" Karen said sharply.  "Can Aunt Beth do that?  Make me
run a nudist resort for five years before I can get the money?"

   "Yes," I replied.  "It was her money.  She wasn't obligated to give you
any of it so she could attach almost any strings to it she desired."

   "I thought so," Karen said, a little downcast.

   "What do you need from me?" I asked.

   "I need advice on what to do about this and help doing whatever I
decide,"

   Karen said.

   "The first thing I would do," I said, "is find out how Birch Trails
Resort does as a business.  If it is going to cost $12 million to keep it
open for five years, it wouldn't make any sense to do it."

   "In that case, I sell the resort and let the money go to charity," Karen
said.

   "Right," I confirmed.

   "After Uncle Dave died, Beth hired a couple, Sam and Glenda Watson, to
help her run the resort," Karen said.  "Let me call them and set up a time
to go out there to look at the property and go over the books." She made
the call immediately.  After talking with one of the Watson's and checking
her calendar on her smartphone, it was agreed that she would be at Birch
Trails at 10:00 a.m.  on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, three weeks
away.  Ending the call, Karen said to me, "you will come with me, right?"

   I was not enthused about visiting a place where I expected to see old,
fat people naked.  However, I didn't have anything on my calendar for that
Friday.  I could charge for the time.  Spending most of a day with Karen
Wynn also had some appeal.  "Of course, if you want me to," I replied.

   "Please?" Karen said, a little pleadingly.  We agreed to meet at my
office at 8:00 a.m.  that Friday.  I'd drive us to Birch Trails.

   That Friday was sunny and unseasonably warm.  When Karen arrived, she
said, "I'm nervous about this.  I've never been to a nudist resort.  I
called Sam and Glenda back and made it clear we are not taking our clothes
off."

   Birch Trails was in a rural area where Appalachian foothills crept into
our state.  All but the last twenty miles were divided highway, but the
holiday weekend traffic was thick as were the state troopers.  It took
about two hours to make the trip.  During the drive, I learned that Karen
had been a gymnast in college, that she had an MBA from one of the more
respected business schools, and that she worked in finance for the global
consumer products company based in our city.  In other words, she was a
very talented person.

   We turned off a winding two-lane road into a driveway that went up a
steep hill.  The drive was barred by a closed gate.  I had to call on an
intercom and identify us before the gate swung open.  We drove about a half
mile uphill before we came to level ground.  To our left was a parking lot
that was already about half full.  Straight ahead was a two-story building
designed in an alpine style.

   I parked my car in the closest space to the building I could find.  As
we got out of the car, a very tan and fit couple wearing tee shirts and
shorts came up.  "You are Karen?" the woman asked in a friendly voice.

   "Yes," Karen said.  Nodding at me, she added, "and this is the lawyer,
Will Stone."

   The man and woman both extended their hands to shake.  "Glenda and Sam
Watson," the woman said.

   "Working here," Sam added, "we usually don't wear anything, but we
thought you'd be more comfortable if we were dressed." Sam and Glenda were
immediately likeable people.

   "Thank you," Karen said.

   "We're going to be full up for the holiday weekend," Sam said.  "Why
don't we give you the tour now, before everyone gets here." That made
sense.

   The building we were standing in front of was called the "Inn." There
were twenty guest rooms on the second floor.  Sam told us the Inn building
was ten years old.  We saw a guest room, which was modern and surprisingly
luxurious.  The first floor held a small restaurant and kitchen, a bar, and
a spa with sauna, steam room, and jacuzzi.  Walking out the other side of
the Inn we found an Olympic-size swimming pool, an outdoor jacuzzi, and a
smaller pool with a volleyball net across it.  Maybe a third of the lounge
chairs on the pool deck were occupied.

   My vision of a bunch of naked old, fat people was, I saw, dramatically
wrong.  The people around the pool appeared to cover a wide age-range. 
There were some obviously older people, but everyone looked reasonably fit.
No obesity to be seen here.  Everyone was naked, except us.  Echoing my
thoughts, Karen softly said, "not what I expected."

   It took over an hour for us to see the rest of the facilities, including
tennis courts, volleyball courts, cabins, and some of the trails through
the woods.  We ended at what looked like an old Victorian house about 100
yards south and slightly uphill from the Inn and pool complex.  "This was
Beth's house," Glenda explained.

   "It looks old," Sam added, "but Beth had everything updated." Inside,
the rooms were large and tastefully furnished.  We also got the impression
that Beth had been a fan of technology.  You could get water in the kitchen
sink by simply saying "water."

   We followed Glenda and Sam to a small one story building just south of
the Inn.  "This is the office," Glenda said.

   "The office is Glenda's domain," Sam said.  "If you'll excuse me, I've
got some maintenance items to deal with.  Nice to meet you.  I look forward
to working with you Karen."

   Glenda showed us the computerized reservation system.  The resort's
overnight accommodations were almost sold out through Labor Day with
reservations booked through the New Year holiday.  "It tails way off in the
winter," Glenda said.  "We're too far north to go nude outdoors that time
of year, but Beth insisted we stay open year-round so we can keep staff."

   Glenda had printed out ten years of income statements, balance sheets,
and various ledgers.  This was more Karen's area of expertise than mine.  I
had already verified that there were no liens recorded against the
property. Karen spent several hours going over all the financials at least
twice.  Around 4:00 p.m., she leaned back in her chair, looked at me, and
said, "you're not going to believe this."

   "What?" I asked.

   "This is a wildly profitable business," Karen said.  "There's no debt.
Before the pandemic, this place averaged an annual net profit over $ 1
million.  It just broke even the first year of the pandemic, but last year,
the net profit was $ 250,000!  It doesn't look like Dave and Beth have put
any money into the place since they built the Inn.  This place pays for
itself and generates a nice profit besides!"

   "It seems like a nice place," I said.

   "Just the small detail that everyone's running around naked," Karen
added with a smile.

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

   "I don't know," Karen said.  "I'm going to have to think about this."

   We thanked Glenda profusely for her and her husband's cooperation.  To
get from the office to the car, we had to go past the pool again.  It was
packed with people in the water and on lounges on the deck.  Everyone but
us was naked.  There were quite a few very attractive bodies.  "Damn,"
Karen said softly.

   We were about twenty minutes into the drive home when I said, "Glenda
and Sam seem competent enough.  You could let them manage the place for
five years and be an absentee owner."

   "There's something else I haven't shown you," Karen said.  She took a
sheet of paper with handwriting on it from her purse.  "This letter from
Aunt Beth was with the trust documents," she said.  She began to read. 
"Dear Karen: You know by now that I've left Birch Trails to you and created
an incentive for you to keep it.  Dave and I made a leap of faith when we
bought the resort.  We also committed that, if we were going to run a nude
resort, we were going to live nude.  That was the best decision we ever
made.  I know you will hesitate, but I beg you to make the same commitment
we made.  Trust me, life is much better once you take your clothes off and
leave them off.  You cannot appreciate that until you've tried it.  Please
don't lose this opportunity!  Love.  Beth."

   There was silence in the car for a few miles.  Finally, Karen said,
"Beth wanted me to live at Birch Trails and become a nudist."

   "Have you talked this over with your significant other?" I asked.

   Karen gave a sort of laugh.  "There is no significant other," she said.
"The guy I was dating broke up with me just after Christmas."

   Unthinkingly, I said, "poor judgment on his part."

   "It would be easier if I had a partner who was dead-set against this,"
Karen said.  "That would, sort of, take the decision out of my hands.  As
it is, I have to make a decision."

   We drove on silently for several more miles.  As we came into the outer
suburbs of the city, Karen said, "can we stop somewhere for dinner?  I'm
starving."

   Not knowing what Karen did and didn't like, I stopped at one of those
mid-market chain bar/restaurants.  It was busy.  We got a table quickly,
but the service was very slow.  By tacit agreement, we talked about
anything but Birch Trails.  Karen was a delightful person to talk to.  She
could be funny and witty.  We also discovered we had broadly similar
backgrounds and similar views on a lot of subjects.  We had common
interests in sports, history, and mystery novels.  By the time we were
finished a couple of hours later, I'd decided the guy who had dumped Karen
had screwed up royally.  She was an incredible woman.

   I didn't hear anything from Karen Wynne for about ten days.  She called
in early June.  "Will, I'm going to do it," she said.  "I don't know
whether I'll be going naked like Beth wanted, but I feel I need to keep
Birch Trails going as a tribute to her and Dave.  I think being an absentee
owner would likely cause more problems than it solves.  I've given my
employer notice that I'm leaving at the end of the month."

   I did the things necessary to get title to the Birch Trails property
into an LLC I created with Karen as the sole member and to document her
authority to run the business.  I notified the bank that was trustee of
Beth's trust that Karen intended to comply with the conditions.  The trust
officer told me someone from the Bank would come to Birch Trails quarterly
to verify it is still operating and Karen still owns it.

   Given how Beth had furnished the house, Karen decided she didn't need to
move any furniture.  Her stuff went to Goodwill.  I took a day in late June
and helped her move her clothes, books, and other personal items to Birch
Trails.  I didn't mind doing some free labor if it meant spending time with
Karen.

   I doubted I'd hear from Karen again.  However, she called just after
July 4 and asked to meet me for dinner.  I offered to come out to Birch
Trails, but she preferred to go somewhere on the east side of the city.  I
offered to come out there and pick her up, but she wanted to meet me at the
restaurant.  I assumed Karen had business she wanted to discuss, but it
turned out to be purely social.  I wasn't complaining.  Karen is a very
engaging person.  We talked about many things, but not Birch Trails.  When
I asked early in the dinner how things were going for her at the resort,
she just said, "it's been interesting" and laughed.  As we were walking to
our cars after dinner, Karen asked, "same time next week?"

   "What?" I asked, confused.

   "Dinner," she said.  "Are you free the same time next week?"

   "Of course," I replied.  That earned me a smile.

   Karen and I had dinner together once a week through July and early
August.  It was always somewhere in the City's eastern suburbs.  I was
impressed, and a bit perplexed, that Karen was making a roundtrip of over
one hundred miles each time.  I came to look forward to our dinners.  I
hadn't had a girlfriend since I'd gone out on my own and become a lawyer
with little income.  Karen was also the most impressive woman I'd ever met.

   I was having dinner with Karen the week before Labor Day.  Karen never
talked about Birch Trails during our dinners, but she brought it up that
night.  "We're booked solid for Labor Day," she said.  "But it drops off
the next weekend, so I decided to have a party for the staff that Saturday
afternoon.  They've been great and I want to thank them."

   "That sounds like a great idea," I said.

   "Will you come?" Karen asked.

   That threw me.  I stammered, "well, yeah, sure, if you want me to."

   "I do," Karen said.  "There's one other thing.  I'm asking the staff to
go nude for the party so they can experience Birch Trails the way our
guests do.  Almost everyone's said they will."

   "You want me to go nude too?" I asked.

   "Yes," Karen said.

   "Are you going to go nude?" I asked.

   "Yes," Karen said.  "I already have been.  I started going nude a couple
of days after I moved to Birch Trails.  I felt out of place with clothes
on. About the only time I'm dressed any more is to come to our dinners."

   "How has the nudity gone?" I asked.

   "Beth's letter was right.  Going nude is wonderful.  I love it." Karen
reached across the table and put her hand on top of mine.  "Please Will?  I
want you to experience it too.  I promise, you will not regret it."

   I am a soft touch for an exceptionally beautiful woman.  I promised
Karen that I'd come to Birch Trails and that I'd go nude.  "Please come out
Friday and stay the weekend," she asked.  I agreed that I would.

   I spent most of the next two weeks wondering whether I'd imagined it. 
Had that the most wonderful woman I'd ever met really had invited me to run
around naked with her for a weekend?  Things like that didn't happen to me.
I had largely convinced myself that I had imagined the invitation and that
Karen would be really pissed off if I showed up at Birch Trails uninvited.
Then, Karen called the night before I'd imagined she had invited me to
come.

   "You're still coming out here tomorrow?" Karen asked.

   Damn!  I hadn't imagined it.  She really had invited me to her nude
resort.  "Of course," I replied.

   "Don't pack much," Karen said with a laugh.  "I can't wait to see you."

   When I pressed the intercom button at the resort gate that Friday
afternoon, Sam Watson's voice came through.  "Will, I'm glad you're here.
Karen was sure you wouldn't show up.  Don't come all the way to the Inn. 
Take the right opposite the parking lot.  That take you straight up to
Karen's house."

   I followed Sam's directions and ended up in a small parking area behind
the Victorian house.  Karen was waiting in a flower print sundress.  My
face must have registered surprise, or disappointment, that she was dressed
because she laughed and said, "I thought I'd better ease you into it." I
grabbed my small overnight bag and followed her inside.  Something about
the house seemed more vital than when I'd seen it before.  I mentioned that
and Karen said, "it got dusty after Beth passed.  I've cleaned things up."

   I followed Karen into the large front room.  "Put your bag down, Will,"
she said.  I did as I was told.  Karen stood a couple of feet away, facing
me.  She looked at me for a moment, smiled again, and said, "are you ready
to start experiencing the reason this place exists?"

   "I suppose," I said.

   "I'll start," Karen said.  She took the hem of her dress in both hands
and pulled it over her head.  She wore nothing underneath.  She tossed the
dress on a sofa, posed for a moment, and then slowly turned 360 degrees.  I
had suspected Karen had a good body, but she was way beyond my
expectations. Her breasts were each about the size of one and a half
grapefruit, firm with upturned nipples.  Her stomach was flat.  She wasn't
ripped, but here was some muscle definition.  Her hips were, perhaps, a bit
wider than perfect, but that accentuated the curves.  Her legs looked
great, and her bare ass was very alluring.  She had also shaved off her
pubic hair so I could see vaginal lips between her thighs.

   Karen let me look for a time before she asked, "what do you think?"

   "I think you are, by far, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I
said.

   "Thank you," Karen replied.  "I like you looking at me, but I want to
look too.  Get those clothes off, please."

   I sensed I was about to do something irrevocable, but, what else can you
do when an extremely beautiful naked woman asks you to undress?  I slid off
my shoes, loosened my belt, and pulled my polo shirt over my head.  "Damn
Will," Karen said, "you work out a lot, don't you?"

   "I try," I replied.

   "Keep going," she said.  I unzipped my trousers, pushed them down, and
stepped out of them.  I lifted one foot at a time and rolled off my socks.
I straightened and looked Karen in the eyes as I pushed my boxer shots
down. They fell to my feet, and I stepped out of them.  I stood, naked,
with my hands at my side, facing Karen.

   After a few moments, Karen said, "please turn around." I did.  I heard
an "um" as she looked at my ass.  I finished the turn and faced her again.
"You said I am beautiful," Karen said.  "You're pretty good yourself." She
laughed.  "I shouldn't say this, and wouldn't if anyone else was around,
but I've seen a lot of penises since I've been here.  I like yours the
best." Karen stepped to me.  "Thank you Will," she said, and hugged me.

   Karen and I hugged a long time.  Her body felt even better than it
looked.  She finally broke the embrace.  With a particularly sexy smile,
she said, "you have a decision to make.  I can get you a room at the Inn or
you can stay here with me."

   I understood that was Karen's way of saying she wanted a relationship.
Whether I am a smart man or not is, I guess, debatable; but I wasn't dumb
enough to decline a relationship with Karen Wynne.  "I'd prefer to stay
with you," I said.

   "Right answer," Karen said.  "Now, let's go outside and mingle with the
guests."

   I had, of course, been nude with women indoors before.  Stepping outside
without a stitch on was a new experience, intensified by the fact I could
hear voices and laughter from the pool.  "The first time you leave the
house with nothing on is a bit scary, but also thrilling, isn't it?" Karen
asked.  I nodded.  "Don't worry," she continued.  "People are a lot nicer
to each other when they're naked.  Oh, and the big nudist groups say that
it isn't polite to look at people at a nude resort.  Forget that.  Everyone
looks at everyone.  Nude bodies are beautiful, and having people look at
you when you're nude is really fun."

   This was a different Karen Wynne than my prior perceptions of her.  It
was exciting.

   My anxiety grew as we walked closer to the pool.  Once we could see it,
Karen took my right hand in her left.  She was right, though, it was
thrilling to be walking in sight of a large group of people completely
naked.

   As we walked onto the pool deck, a few people called Karen's name.  She
responded to them by name.  "We have some regulars," she told me.  "Great
people."

   A female voice said, "Karen, who's the hunk?"

   I almost looked around to see who the voice was talking about.  Karen
called back, "Sherry, this is my new boyfriend.  Remember that lawyer I
told you I was hot for?  Here he is in all his glory." Karen turned to me
and asked, "you don't mind me saying you're my boyfriend, do you?"

   "Not as long as you mean it," I replied.

   "I mean it!" Karen said.  We hugged and had our first kiss, buck naked
in front of about fifty other naked people.

   I felt a hand swat my bare ass.  I let go of Karen and turned to see
Glenda standing behind me.  She was smiling.  "No public displays of
affection," she teased.  I guessed Glenda was in her fifties.  Age
notwithstanding, she looked good with nothing on.  "I'm glad you're here,"
Glenda said.  "Karen's been fretting all week that you weren't going to
come.  Hell, she's been talking about you ever since she moved in.  I told
her she should have invited you here sooner."

   I looked at Karen, who was blushing.  "Uh," she said, "I formed a bit of
a crush when we first met.  I haven't trusted my judgment about men since
my last boyfriend.  I kept asking you to dinner near where you live because
I was sort of hoping you'd screw up.  Then, I'd be able to just leave and
forget about you.  You didn't screw up and I fell for you instead."

   "Karen," I said, "you're the most wonderful woman I've ever met."

   "You don't mind that I've become a nudist?" Karen asked, "Or is that
part of the attraction?"

   "We'll turn Will into a nudist too," Glenda said.

   "I'm working on it," I replied.  Karen stepped close and kissed me
again. After a moment, I moved my left hand behind my ass to ward off
another of Glenda's swats.

   "You're ok," Glenda said.  "There's no rule against kissing the owner.
Your ass just looked so nice I had to smack it."

   Karen broke our kiss and asked, "Glenda, is there a rule against him
having sex with the owner?"

   "Well," Glenda said, "don't do it at the pool, but otherwise it's only
against the rules if he doesn't make you come."

   Karen looked at me and said, "there's your task tonight."

   A male voice nearby called out, "why not at the pool?"

   A female voice said, "we'd love to watch!"

   Karen and I walked around the pool for a time so she could talk with her
guests.  I was surprised how exhilarating it felt to be completely naked in
a group of people.  People were looking at us, although I'm sure more were
looking at Karen than me.  Still, they saw me with her.  Knowing that
people were seeing my bare dick, balls, and ass was exciting and
gratifying. Karen sensed how much I was enjoying the experience.  "I told
you it is a thrill," she said with a smile.  "I've become an addict.  I
can't get enough of being nude around other people."

   Later, we had a quiet dinner with Glenda and Sam.  They suggested we
join them for a nighttime walk in the woods.  Karen declined, saying "we
need to get to turn in early, tomorrow will be busy." Glenda flashed a
knowing smile.

   Back in Karen house, she led me upstairs to the master bedroom.  She put
her arms around me and asked, "Are you glad I invited you?"

   "Yes," I replied.

   Karen took my hands in hers and stood a few inches away.  "I owe Aunt
Beth a great deal," she said.  "I was trying to be the upwardly mobile
professional woman, scared to do anything outside the lines.  I guess Beth
realized that I was bribable.  But I've discovered she was bribing me to
live a better life.  Of course, it feels better not to have any clothes on,
and I've learned the human body is the highest form of art.  But" Karen
giggled, "the special thing about being here is how much I enjoy having
people see the parts of me I grew up being taught never to show.  When I
walk around the resort, knowing that guys, and girls, are looking at my
genitals, my bare buttocks, and my bare breasts is such a turn on." Karen
smiled and looked at me.  "It turns you on to be seen naked too, doesn't
it?"

   I had to be honest with her.  "Yes, it does," I answered.

   "Does it turn you on to see me out there naked?" Karen asked.

   "Definitely," I replied.

   "How about seeing other women with nothing on?" Karen asked.

   I feared a trap but, again, I had to b e honest.  "Yes, I enjoy seeing
naked women."

   "Then we're even," Karen laughed, "because I like seeing naked men." She
paused.  Tentatively, she said, "since we have in common that we like to be
naked, be seen naked, and see other naked people, why don't we do it all
the time?"

   "What do you mean?" I asked.

   With some passion, Karen said, "Will, I come back to the house, alone,
every night knowing that everyone else at Birch Trails is fucking and
sucking.  I need someone to do that with.  Also, I need someone here to
help me.  Glenda and Sam are great, but they were here before me and have
their ideas about this place aren't necessarily the same as mine.  I need
someone here 100% loyal to me.  Glenda and Sam are in their sixties, so I
can't count on them staying that much longer.  What I'm asking is: will you
come live with me here?  I know it's abrupt, but I'm sure it will work
between us."

   I wasn't prepared for very bright woman with a great personality to ask
me to live with her while we stood together completely naked.  Looking into
Karen's eyes, I realized that she understood me better than I did.  She
already knew my answer.  "If that's what you want," I said, "of course I'll
move here."

   "Not just to Birch Trails," Karen said, "but into my house and my
bedroom.  I want us to be business partners, best friends, and lovers. 
That's what I want."

   "Karen," I said, "with you, I want that too."

   "We start being lovers right now," she said.  She tightened her grip on
my hands, stepped backwards until she flopped on the bed, and pulled me
down on top of her.  We kissed and fondled each other for a few minutes. 
Then, I gently pulled myself out of her embrace and slid down her body
until my face was level with her triangle.

   I savored the sight and scent of her for a moment before I gently spread
her thighs apart.  I put my face between her thighs and began teasing her
outer lips with my tongue.  When she started squirming a little, I started
sucking on her clit.  Karen was responding nicely so I poked my tongue
inside her and began exploring.  As I licked the front wall of her pussy,
Karen said, "Can you go just a bit higher?" I pushed my face into her and
extended my tongue to its limit.  "Yes!" Karen exclaimed, "right there."

   I licked the spot Karen had directed me to, sometimes hard, sometimes
lightly.  When I sensed she was getting close, I backed off and very gently
ran my teeth over her clit.  After a couple of times doing that, Karen
wrapped her thighs around my head and said, "get me off, now!" I went back
to the spot and began licking hard and fast.  Karen's hips bucked and she
tightened her thighs around my head, as if to pull me inside her.  It was a
lot of fun.

   Karen's hips finally bucked twice very hard, lifting my head and upper
body up.  Her legs relaxed and I raised my head up to look at her face. 
She was flushed, panting, and looked incredibly beautiful.  She smiled at
me and gasped, "good job!"

   I moved up the bed placing my body above hers.  When our faces were
level, she gave me a quizzical look.  I answered by pushing my dick into
her very wet pussy.  "More?" she gasped, but she immediately began moving
in rhythm with me.  I tried to push my dick against the same spot I'd been
licking.  Karen was quickly bucking hard again and sucking in air.  I
leaned my head down and started sucking her left nipple.  It seemed almost
instantly that she said, "oh god!  I can't....  Oh GOD.  OH GOD.  OH YES!"

   She bucked very hard again, lifting me up with her.  She took in a
violent breath.  After a second or two, she began to relax.  I started to
pull out, but she wrapped her legs around me.  "Keep...  going," she said
between breaths, "come...  in...  me...  please." Karen grunted and
contracted around me.  The sensation was entirely new to me.  After a few
more thrusts, I came long and hard.  "Good boy," Karen said.

   We held each other for a long time.  Karen was sweaty and slippery.  She
looked, felt, and smelt wonderful.  After a while, she said, "I haven't
come twice like that since college.  Damn, you make an impression."

   Birch Trails had a staff of about twenty-five, mostly part-time.  I
didn't know them all yet, but I think all of them showed up for the party.
At 1:00 p.m., Karen stood up on a small crate and made a short speech
thanking the staff for their work and for working with her through the
transition.  "Help yourselves to the food and drink.  The party will last
until 4:00 p.m.  Please don't drink too much if you're working tonight,"
Karen said.  "I'd also like to introduce someone who also helped me a great
deal and whom I hope you'll see here a lot more.  Will, come up here with
me."

   I hadn't expected Karen to do that.  She gestured twice for me to come
to her before I did.  I had to put my arm around her bare waist for both of
us to be able to balance on the crate.  "Will was the lawyer who helped
with Beth's estate," Karen said, "but he's shifted from that role to being
my boyfriend." That earned a small round of applause.  "Last, but maybe
most important," Karen said, "Birch Trails is a nude resort.  I'm not
ordering it, but I encourage the staff to take your clothes off and enjoy
Birch Trails the way our guests do."

   Janice, our chef, and Darryl, who helped Sam with maintenance, kept
their clothes on.  Everyone else stripped down.  Some of the staff carried
extra weight and probably looked better clothed.  Two of the girls who
worked as servers in the restaurant at night and at the poolside grill,
Jackie and Lena, looked very good.

   There were, of course, a few guests around too.  They also got to eat
and drink for free.  It was a pleasant, lowkey event.  Karen had just
finished taking me around to meet all the staff when one of the guests came
up to me, a mildly attractive woman whom I guessed was in her forties. 
"I'm Megan Alzer," she said.  "The man over there," she pointed to a man of
about the same age across the pool, "is my husband Martin." She explained
that she and Martin had their own law firm in the city about two hours
north of Birch Trails.  "We do primarily small business transactional work
and real estate.  We'd be happy to help if you're not representing Karen or
Birch Trails anymore." Since I was in a relationship with Karen now, I
couldn't represent her or her business any longer.

   The staff party was, I thought, a success.  Later that evening, Karen
and I had dinner in the restaurant with Megan and Martin.  Megan's initial
approach had put me off, but she repaired the damage over dinner.  Megan
and Martin turned out to be delightful people who knew what they were
talking about.

   While diners in the restaurant were nude, nude servers were illegal. 
Consequently, the young ladies who worked as servers had a uniform of a
tight white top and a short dark skirt.  Lena, who had been nude at the
party that afternoon, waited on us that evening.  After she brought our
drinks, she stood, with a hip cocked, and asked, "so, do you think I look
better in this uniform or naked?"

   Martin and I looked at each other, both of us recognizing that was a
question we should not answer.  Megan, however, immediately said, "well, of
course, you look much better naked." Karen nodded her agreement.

   "It's really unfair," Lena said, "that everyone else around here can go
naked but we have to work clothed."

   Karen looked at me.  I shrugged and said, "I get it.  I'm sorry but
that's the law: if you handle food you have to be dressed."

   "I know," Lena said, "but it isn't fair!"

   Karen and I had another drink with Megan and Martin after dinner.  It
was unseasonably warm for September so the four of us went outside for a
walk.  As we moved out of the lights from the Inn and the pool, Megan and
Martin started kissing and fondling each other.  Karen and I took that as
our cue to go up the hill to the house.

   The wall of Karen's master bedroom facing towards the Inn and the pool
was covered with a curtain.  I had assumed the curtain covered a window. 
Karen pulled the curtain that night to reveal French doors leading out onto
a balcony.  She opened the doors and I saw an air mattress on the balcony.
"Sometimes," Karen said, "when it's warm, I sleep out here under the stars.
Want to try that tonight?"

   "Just sleep?" I asked.

   "Of course not, silly," Karen replied.  She stepped to me.  We hugged
and kissed.  She played with my balls while I rubbed her left nipple
between my thumb and forefinger.  After a while, my hand moved between
Karen's legs and one of hers wrapped around my dick.  We played with each
other for quite a while.  One nice thing about doing that was that I could
watch Karen's face the entire time.  Her face was always beautiful, but she
became even more beautiful as she got aroused.

   We finally lay down on the air mattress, on our sides, facing each
other. Karen lifted her left leg up and wrapped it over the backs of my
thighs as I entered her.  I had never made love lying on my side before. 
Karen seemed to know what she was doing, so I followed her lead.  It wasn't
as difficult as I would have thought, and the sensation was slightly
different.  We kept looking into each other's eyes the entire time we
fucked and as we each came.  That was another thing I'd never done before,
but I'd never made love to anyone as beautiful as Karen before either.

   Once her breathing slowed to normal, Karen said, "Will, you get this
great look on your face as you come." No one had ever said that to me
before.

   "Karen," I said, "watching you orgasm is the most beautiful thing I've
ever seen."

   Karen giggled.  "I guess that means we'll have to do this a lot," she
said.  That sounded perfect to me.

   We slept naked on Karen's balcony that night with no cover over us.  I
usually can't sleep without something covering me, but I slept very well
that night with Karen beside me.  I awoke with the typical morning wood. 
Karen, who was already awake, said, "I can't let that go to waste." She
pushed me onto my back and, with no foreplay, mounted me.  I'd always
thought some foreplay was a physical necessity, but Karen was more than
sufficiently aroused.  Seeing her above me, silhouetted by the morning sun,
and feeling the sensations she caused made that morning was one of the
greatest moments in my life.

   I think Karen felt that morning was extra special also.  She set a slow
pace and we pleasured each other for a long time before she hastened the
pace.  She again did the thing that felt like her pussy contracting on my
dick.  Once she did that, we both came quickly, forcefully, and loudly.

   When Karen stopped moaning, we heard two people clapping below.  "Best
way to start the day," a female voice called out.  Karen looked at me,
blushing slightly, and broke into laughter.

   About an hour later, Karen and I were walking by the pool.  A
middle-aged couple came up to us.  "Thank you for what you were doing this
morning," the woman said.

   "That was exactly the inspiration we needed to go back o the room for
morning sex ourselves," the man added.

   "So much for being anonymous," Karen said softly as they walked away. 
She thought for a moment, then added, "But, I'm glad they heard us and I'm
glad they know it was us."

   It took me about a month to farm the work I had out to other lawyers and
get out of my office and apartment leases.  Once I was out of Karen's
intoxicating presence, I thought her idea that I live with her made
something of a parasite.  She owned Birch Trails and, I knew, would inherit
millions in a few years.  I started seeing a leech in the mirror.  We had a
very long telephone conversation about that which ended in Karen's promise
to tell me immediately if she felt I was taking advantage of her.  More
meaningfully, the call confirmed that I was completely smitten with Karen
Wynne.  I couldn't not live with her.

   Once I had moved in with Karen at Birch Trails, she put me to work.  I
learned about the resort's bookkeeping, purchasing, reservations, and
marketing (primarily word-of-mouth).  I helped clean cabins.  I also spent
time with Sam making various repairs, from fixing broken room furniture to
replacing a segment of sewer line from one of the cabins.

   I was a little surprised that we had about five couples booked for
Thanksgiving that year.  Karen wanted to give them a traditional
Thanksgiving dinner but also insisted on giving Janice the holiday off to
spend with her family.  That meant that Karen and I cooked Thanksgiving
dinner for a dozen.  It came out better than I expected, thanks to Janice's
very detailed written instructions.  The best part was watching Karen in
the kitchen wearing only an apron.  Yes, it was probably a health code
violation, but I approved.

   Megan and Martin were one of the couples who came for Thanksgiving. 
After dinner, Megan approached us.  "Martin and I represent some artists in
the city (referring to our state capital to the north)," she said.  "One
does erotic art.  She's having an exhibition in January and is looking for
a man and woman to do what I guess you'd call 'performance art" as part of
it.  Martin and I thought you two might be interested."

   I imagined a number of things as erotic "performance art." Doing any of
them with Karen would be great.  I looked at Karen with raised eyebrows. 
"What, exactly, does she want the couple to do?" Karen asked.

   "I honestly do not know," Megan said.  "Why don't you come up and meet
with her.  Whether it works out or not, the four of us can at least get a
drink."

   Karen and I met with the artist at her townhouse in mid-December.  The
woman, who went by the single name Paulina, was in her late fifties or
early sixties; slender, with long gray hair.  She was handsome and, I
thought, probably had been very attractive when she was younger.  She
brought out a large portfolio.  "I want you to see a sample of my work,"
Paulina said.  "The first half of the book is my work as a model, the rest
is work as an artist."

   Paulina had been very attractive when she was younger.  She also hadn't
been the least bit bashful in her poses.  "I wanted the camera to see all
of me," she commented.  Her art was, primarily, photography, along with a
few sketches.  Most of the poses were very explicit.  However, the pictures
also had a joyous quality.  I got the impression the models and Paulina had
fun creating the work.

   "I'm having an exhibition at a small gallery on the north side of town
in mid-January," Paulina said.  "Attendance is by invitation only.  The
guests will be people who have bought my work in the past and a few people
I consider prospects.  They all know they will be seeing erotic art.  I
want to give them something more exciting.  What I would want you to do is
stand on a pedestal, tied together, in coitus, for about 90 minutes."

   "You mean....?" Karen started.

   Paulina cut Karen off.  "I mean his penis in your vagina, while you're
tied together, in a roomful of people.  Are you willing to do that?"

   Karen looked at me.  I could tell from her face that what Paulina
described excited her.  To be honest, it excited me too.  I nodded at
Karen.

   "Yes, we are," Karen replied to Paulina.  "It sounds like fun."

   "I hope it will be," Paulina replied.  "Now, please take your clothes
off.  I need to see you both nude."

   Just a few months ago, Karen and I both would have stormed out if
Paulina had asked us to strip.  In the event, we both smiled, stood, and
undressed.  It Paulina walked around each of us very slowly.  When she
circled back in front of me, she said, "please spread your feet apart." I
did as I was told.  Paulina took my balls in her hand, lifted them up, and
examined them thoroughly.  To Karen, she said, "I need to see his erection.
Do you mind if I get him hard?"

   Smiling at me, Karen said, "please, feel free." Karen kept smiling as
Paulina stroked my dick.  The situation was so odd, and so erotic, that I
got very hard very fast.

   Paulina examined my erection from every angle.  "That will do," she
finally said.  Shifting her attention to Karen, she said, "please sit down
and spread your legs." Karen did as she was told.  Paulina knelt between
Karen's knees and looked at her closely.  There was something absurd, but
also exciting, about standing naked in a strange room with a hard-on
watching a woman we'd just met inspecting Karen's cunt.

   Paulina finally stood up and said, "I think the two of you will do
nicely.  Let me have Rod look at you." Paulina left the room but returned
in a moment accompanied by a man probably ten years her junior.  I am not a
small guy, but Rod dwarfed me, with tattooed arms about three quarters the
size of my thighs.  "Can you do it with this couple?" Paulina asked.

   Rod looked at us for a moment.  "They are a bit bigger than I expected,"
he said.  "The guy has some muscle on him but, yeah, we can do it.  I'll
get Jerry and Stew to help hoist them." Rod left the room.

   Paulina turned to us.  "If you are willing, it's a deal.  Of course, I
will pay you.  Does $ 500 for the two of you sound fair?"

   "We'd love to do it," Karen replied, "but we're in it for the thrill. 
We don't want your money.  That would cheapen us."

   "You just want strangers to see you in a sexual pose," Paulina said.  "I
respect that." We shook hands.  Paulina wrote down for us where we were to
be and when.  Karen and I dressed and left.

   It was too early in the day for drinks, so we met Megan and Martin near
their office for coffee.  Karen described to them what we had agreed to do.
"That sounds exciting," Megan said.

   "Paulina invited us to the show," Martin said.  "We weren't sure whether
we are going but we have to see the two of you."

   Karen squeezed my hand under the table.  The idea of posing in front of
strangers with my dick in Karen's cunt was exciting enough.  That people we
knew were going to see us was scary, and thrilling.

   There was snow in the air as Karen and I drove north that January
Saturday.  The gallery where Paulina was doing her show was just north of
downtown.  Thankfully, it had parking behind the building.  The outside
door had a sign up, "Closed for Private Event." We had to ring a bell and
then explain to the man who answered that we were the live models.  He led
us up a flight of stairs into a room which ran the length of the building.
The entire room was off-white.  In the center of the room was a pedestal
about four feet high and, maybe, three feet square.

   Paulina was standing in a corner talking with another older woman who
was introduced to us as the gallery owner.  Rod was there with two other
heavily muscled young men.  A very slender young woman was hanging a sketch
of a woman masturbating.  Paulina introduced us to the young woman, Lynne
DuPais.  "Lynne is a student at the university," Paulina explained.  "She's
interning with me.  Now, you two get your clothes off." It was an hour
before the show was to start.  "I don't want any marks from your clothing
on your skin," Paulina said.

   Rod seemed indifferent, but the two men with him watched intently as
Karen undressed.  I couldn't blame them, Karen looked even more beautiful
than usual.  Her excitement made her radiant.  I was more surprised when I
noticed that Paulina, the gallery owner, and Lynne were watching me
undress. "I think the other women agree with me that you're pretty hot
naked," Karen whispered.

   Karen and I stayed out of the way while Lynne, Paulina, and the gallery
owner finished hanging and rehanging Paulina's work.  About ten minutes
before the show started, Paulina asked us, "You're ready?" We both nodded.
"Ok," Paulina said, "get each other aroused." All six clothed people
watched as I fingered Karen and she stroked me.  That made me hard pretty
fast.  "That's good," Paulina said.  "Get into your pose."

   We knew what Paulina meant.  Karen and I embraced.  Karen spread her
legs slightly and I slid my dick inside her.  Entering Karen was always a
special experience, but it was more intense that day because six people
were watching us.  "This is great!" Karen said.

   "Do you enjoy being watched?" Paulina asked.

   "I hadn't known it till now, but yes; I do!" Karen replied
enthusiastically.

   "Will?" Paulina asked.

   "I enjoy doing anything with Karen," I answered.

   Rod knelt behind me and one of the other men knelt behind Karen.  The
men forced our legs wide apart and clamped metal rods to our ankles. 
"Spreader bars," Paulina explained.  "They will defeat your natural
reaction to close your legs when the guests are in the room.  I want my
guests to see you clearly."

   Rod and the other man wrapped two smooth ropes around our legs, up our
sides, and around our torsos.  Karen and I were bound tightly together. 
There are a lot worse things than being tied naked to Karen Wynne, but not
too many better.

   Rod and the other man carefully tied the loose ends of the ropes wrapped
around us to a larger rope hanging from a pulley in the ceiling. 
Satisfied, all three men began pulling on the other end of the heavy rope,
lifting us up off the floor.  Bearing our weight, the ropes around our
chests were very tight, making it difficult to breathe.  I hoped it
wouldn't be like that for the full 90 minutes.

   The three men lifted us about five feet into the air.  It was not
comfortable.  Paulina pushed us until we were a few inches above a
pedestal. The men lowered us.  Once our feet were on the pedestal, the
pressure on our chests diminished significantly.  "That's better," Karen
whispered.  "Can we fuck?" she asked.  I tried a small thrust.  Since the
ropes were not wrapped around our hips, I had a good range of motion.  I'd
have to move inside Karen some to stay hard, but we had to be careful not
to get too stimulated.

   Echoing my thoughts, Paulina said, "please don't come until the guests
have left."

   A couple of minutes later, we felt a cool breeze in the room.  We heard
voices and the sounds of people moving closer to us.  "My god," a male
voice said, "she's got real people fucking!" Karen giggled and ground
herself into me.

   The way we were tied, we couldn't look down to see the patrons.  I'm
guessing our pubes were just above eye level.  I had the sense that people
were circled around us.  "Classic Paulina," a woman said.

   With the ropes bearing some, but not all, of our weight, standing on the
pedestal was not at all uncomfortable.  Of course, being in Karen was
extremely comfortable.  "Enjoying yourself?" I softly asked Karen.

   "Yes," she replied, "I'm glad we're doing this.  I'm glad you're with
me." Karen kissed me.  That brought home the realization that I was having
fun.

   Karen and I focused on keeping each other stimulated, but not over
stimulated.  However, we were always aware of being on display to a lot of
people.  That was the really fun part.

   I had no idea how long we'd been on the pedestal when Karen whispered,
"Jesus!  I just want to come." I'd been thinking the same thing and was
weighing how much trouble we'd be in if I went for it and we both came.

   Once again, Paulina seemed to read my mind.  To her guests, Paulina
said, "our two models have been on edge quite some time.  I had not planned
to do this but, with your permission, I'm going to suggest that they bring
other to orgasm while we all watch.  Is that ok?" The applause in the room
seemed very loud.  "Karen, Will," Paulina said, "will you please make each
other come?"

   "Oh god this is hot!" Karen moaned.  I started moving inside her more
forcefully and faster.  I had enough freedom of movement to hit her
favorite spot with my dickhead, and I attacked it.  "Oh god yes!" Karen
yelled.  With our chests bound together, I could feel her heartbeat
speeding up, which enhanced the sensations.  Karen moaned again, leaned her
head against mine, and bit me.  She also contracted her cunt on my dick. 
That forced me to push much harder but greatly increased the sensation for
both of us.  In a few more seconds, Karen was bucking her hips against me.
She shuddered and let out a loud moan.  I came in the middle of her moan.
It was so good; my vision went away for a second.

   We relaxed in our ropes, spent.  Karen's head rested against mine.  For
a few moments, the room was utterly silent.  My dick slipped out of Karen
and pointed at the floor.  At almost that same time, someone started
clapping.  The applause was taken up by others.  Karen pulled her head
back, smiled at me, and said, "I knew I'd get a standing ovation sometime
in my life.  I didn't expect it would be for fucking in public, but I'm
glad it was and I'm glad I was fucking you.  Thank you for doing this with
me." Karen and I kissed.  We held the kiss while Paulina's guests filtered
out of the room.