Love Lessons At Pleasure Point 10

Chapter 10 of Love Lessons at Pleasure Point picks up right at the conclusion of the previous chapter. To get the full context of the story line, I recommend you read Chapter 9 first. Please remember to rate and comment. Merci, Petitmort

Paul awoke in a sea of white cotton and, for a brief moment, completely forgot where he was.

He was alone, laying in the middle of a king-sized bed, and the room was unfamiliar. He glanced at the redwood ceiling. And the redwood walls. Then he saw a large picture window and the forest outside.

That's right. Ventana. With Jasmine.

He lifted his head up and surveyed the room. He noticed Jasmine outside on the deck, laying in the hammock. She was on her laptop, wrapped in a wool blanket.

He sat up and looked at his phone. It was early. Not yet eight.

He pulled on his shorts and walked to the sliding door that led to the deck. When she noticed him, Jasmine took out her earbuds and looked at him, smiling.

He walked to the hammock, bent down, and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

She reached up and held his face with her hand. She seemed to want to hold it. So he did.

"Morning," he said, his face close to hers.

"I got up early and didn't want to wake you. I'm watching a stream of my class from yesterday."

He admired her conscientiousness. Even on vacation.

"You wanna come inside where it's warm?"

"I kinda like it out here. The trees are so pretty."

"OK," he smiled. "I'm gonna shave. Hop in the shower."

"I've got about 15 minutes left."

He nodded and went back inside to clean up.

Standing at the sink, Paul thought about the events of the night before. It was a night of revelations to be sure.

He'd learned that Jasmine was the daughter of the famous French novelist, Etienne Devereux, who emigrated to America in the early 2000s to live with his new American wife, Jessica.

He and Jessica married, had a daughter, Jasmine, divorced, and then he was tragically killed in a drunk driving accident. Jasmine was eight years old at the time.

Paul felt like he was suddenly made aware of a seismic event in the lives of two of the most important women in his life, Jessica and her daughter, Jasmine.

Two women with whom he was having intense physical and emotional relationships.

Overnight, he'd learned much more about these women than he knew before. Their lives weren't necessarily changed by this sudden knowledge, but

his

was.

Jasmine had ambitions to be a writer. Like her Dad. That's why she was enrolled at Berkeley studying English. That's why she was writing in her journal all the time.

Jessica had been married to one of the most famous writers in the world. That, and her own successful career in tech, enabled her philanthropic pursuits.

Paul also learned their new friends Pierre and Sophia were big-time film people in Europe. Sophia was an actress in Italy and Pierre was a producer in France.

They weren't married, at least not to each other, and were having a secret romantic getaway in Big Sur.

Just like Paul and Jasmine.

Finally, he learned that Pierre and Sophia weren't at all shy about having a group sexual encounter with Jasmine and him. They'd arranged for the four of them to have an after-dinner drink in a secluded hot tub, proceeded to get naked, and then made love right in front of them.

To be fair, Paul and Jasmine made love in front of them too.

Jasmine seemed particularly affected by the encounter. When they got back to their room, all she could talk about was how intense it was. Watching the glamorous Sophia, with her big gorgeous breasts, cumming right in front of them. Seeing Pierre's big fat cock penetrating her.

Afterwards, when she and Paul made love in their room, Jasmine was more orgasmic than she'd ever been.

And that was saying a lot.

After he was done shaving, Paul turned on the hot water in the shower. He was letting the spray cover his face when he felt Jasmine behind him.

She was naked, her body brushing against his back.

"All done with your class?" he asked.

"Yep. You sleep okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks for letting me sleep in. I needed it."

She embraced him from behind. He could feel her nipples, firm from the cold air outside, pressing against his skin.

She lay her head between his shoulder blades.

"Last night was crazy," she said. "I had the weirdest dreams. I was being fucked from behind. First, by you. Then, by Pierre. And then, by you again."

He looked at her over his shoulder.

"I don't think that was a dream."

"What do you mean?"

"Last night, before you fell asleep, I was making love to you from behind. I was kinda pretending to be him."

"Were you role playing again?"

"You seemed to like it. You were saying a bunch of stuff in French."

"Really? Jeez, I hardly ever do that. I must have been loving it."

He turned and faced her, pulling her close.

"I feel like I'm getting to know a whole other side of you."

"My French side?"

"Yeah. And your writer side. I like it."

She melted into his chest, embracing him.

"I'm glad you like it. You know what I like?"

"What?"

She looked up at his face, smiling.

"The fact that you're okay with me fantasizing about another man. While we're having sex."

He smiled back at her.

"Hey, if there's one thing I've learned, it's that acting out your fantasies supercharges sex. And it just... brings you closer. It's all about accepting the other person. Without judgment."

"That's very zen of you," she smiled.

"The more sides of you I see," he said, "the more I like you."

She embraced him, tightly.

"I like how you like me despite my many flaws," she said with a wry smile. "Never felt that way with Chad."

He lifted her up, so they were face to face.

"Hey," he smiled. "You're safe with me, Jasmine. Always."

And she believed him.

They needed to move fast if they were going to make it to breakfast and meet up with Sophia and Pierre in time for the morning activities.

Sophia had planned a spa day for her and Jasmine. Pierre signed up for surfing and invited Paul to join him.

They found the couple sitting in the restaurant eating breakfast.

"Just in time," Pierre said, jovially. "The van leaves for Sand Dollar Beach at 9am."

"Perfect," Paul said. "Hi Sophia. I'll just grab a coffee and something to eat on the way."

"Sorry, we're moving a little slowly today," Jasmine smiled. "Expended a lot of energy last night."

"Tell me about it," Pierre chuckled. "We had one of the wildest nights we've had in a long time."

Jasmine raised her eyebrows.

"After we left you," Sophia smiled, "Pierre was an absolute animal. I don't know what came over him. Well... I have an idea."

She glanced at Jasmine, eyebrows raised.

"I guess the Mountain Pool's a pretty inspiring place," Jasmine said. "We had quite the night too."

"Yeah," Paul added. "Great dream material too."

Jasmine gave Paul a kick under the table.

"Well," Pierre said, "I trust today's going to be even more eventful. I checked with the concierge and we're the only two people signed up for the surf outing. Should be a rollicking good time."

"Should be a righteous sesh," Paul said. "If you want to use the local lingo."

"A righteous sesh! I love that! Did you hear that, Darling? I'm learning the local vernacular!"

"Yes, Pierre," she smiled, teasingly. "I think the whole restaurant heard it."

Paul downed his coffee and grabbed a bran muffin for the road.

"See ya later!" he said, waving to the women.

He and Pierre headed towards the lobby.

In the circle outside the hotel entrance, a green van was idling with it's sliding door open. A young man with blond, shoulder-length hair was waiting for them.

"Pierre and Paul?" he asked in a friendly voice.

"Present and accounted for!" Pierre said.

"Cool. I'm Justin. I'll be your guide today. Hop in and we'll get started."

Paul got in the back and Pierre rode shotgun. Justin shut the sliding door and got behind the wheel.

"I just need you to sign the waivers and we'll get going."

He handed out two clipboards with pens attached.

"How's the swell today?" Paul asked, taking the clipboard.

"Healthy 4-6 foot west northwest swell. Very little wind. Perfect for learning."

Once the forms were signed, Justin put the van in gear and they were off.

Pierre rode with the side window open, reaching his arm out to feel the crisp morning air.

"I'm so glad you're joining me, Paul," he said expansively. "It reminds me of when I was a teenager. My sister and I would travel to the beaches near Biarritz to play in the surf. Wonderful memories."

"You surfed before?" Justin asked Pierre.

"I've been out a few times. I wouldn't say I actually surfed, but I had fun on the waves."

"Well, we'll see if we can't get you up on a few."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. It's a great day to learn."

"That'd be bloody marvelous!"

"How 'bout you, Paul?"

"Yeah, I surf pretty regularly."

"Cool. Whereabouts?"

"Santa Cruz. Pleasure Point."

"Right on."

When they arrived at Sand Dollar Beach, the parking area overlooked a wide beach flanked by rocky outcroppings and beach flora. A long wooden staircase provided access to the beach from the bluff.

They offloaded two longboards, a shortboard, and wetsuits from the back of the van and carried them down to the beach.

After getting into their wetsuits, Justin took them through safety protocols and surfing basics.

They were laying on their boards on the dry sand, facing him.

"Now, you can't call yourself a surfer until you've mastered good paddling technique."

He began by showing them the paddling motion.

"The key to good paddling? Slow and steady. Going all out with your arms is just gonna tire you out. Make every stroke count by using steady, efficient movements and you'll be way better off."

They mimicked a paddling motion.

He spent several minutes teaching them how to align their board with oncoming waves, go over the top of swells, or flip the board over and let the whitewater pass over them.

He taught them about how to choose the right wave and use their paddle technique to match the wave's speed and position.

And he explained how and when to pop up, keeping their eyes on the horizon and their arms extended, to ride the wave.

When it was time for them to paddle out, Paul lagged behind to make sure Pierre got the lion's share of Justin's attention.

They made it through the whitewater without mishap and regrouped outside. They were sitting on their boards, taking in the rugged coastline.

"Simply gorgeous!" Pierre enthused.

Justin was eyeing the horizon, looking for the next set. A medium-sized swell approached.

"Ready to catch a wave?" he asked with a smile.

"Absolutely!" Pierre said, laying on his stomach.

"Aim towards shore," Justin called out. "And paddle!"

Pierre paddled vigorously, while Justin maneuvered himself just behind him.

As the swell approached and rose up, Justin reached out and gave Pierre's longboard a shove.

Pierre felt the momentum as the wave propelled him forward.

"Push up position!" Justin shouted. "Now, pop up!"

Pierre pushed himself up and tried to bring his back foot forward. Instead, he found himself kneeling on his back leg.

He teetered precariously as his board skimmed across the water.

The wave broke over him and he fell into the water, arms and legs akimbo.

He scrambled back on his board.

"Almost!" Justin shouted. "Paddle on out!"

Pierre paddled back outside.

"Not bad," Justin said. "You just need to work on your pop up. Get that back foot under you, without using your knees. Then push off with your front foot to stand up."

Paul sat on his board, smiling.

"Your timing was perfect, Pierre."

After a few more tries, with various degrees of success, Pierre began to get the hang of it.

A well-shaped medium-sized swell approached.

"This one's got your name on it," Justin said.

Pierre aligned his board, looking back over his shoulder.

"OK, start paddling."

Pierre took off with vigor, his arms paddling furiously.

He caught the wave without any assistance, lifted his torso with his arms, and brought his back foot forward.

He slowly lifted up, his legs bent. He was riding the wave!

"Eyes on the horizon!" Justin shouted.

They could see the back of Pierre's big frame as his board slid across the wave from left to right. He wasn't moving his feet at all, but he was maintaining his balance.

"Yeah!" Paul yelled.

He kept riding the wave for the longest time, even after it had broken and he was being propelled by whitewater.

As he approached the beach, he pumped his fists into the air.

"Whoo-hoo!" he cried.

They spent the next couple hours catching waves and having a great time. Paul took off on several and rode the waves with casual confidence, his arms hanging languidly by his sides.

When the surf picked up, and the waves got closer to six feet, Pierre wanted to take a break on the beach.

They watched good-sized waves rise up and slowly break with a thunderous crash.

"Do you think I could borrow your board?" Paul asked Justin.

"You used a shortboard before?"

"Yeah, all the time."

"Um, sure."

"Thanks."

Paul hopped up, grabbed Justin's board and ran into the surf. He paddled out fast and expertly, ducking under the whitewater as he made his way outside.

Justin got up to watch him. Pierre stood next to him.

It didn't take long for Paul to get out to where the biggest waves were breaking. When one of the bigger swells rose up, he spun his board on a dime and after a few short, powerful strokes was sliding down the face.

He was on his feet in an instant, carving along the face of the wave.

"He's... good," Pierre said.

"Yeah,

really

good."

Paul was carving radical turns, staying close to the break. He did some off-the-lip maneuvers, spraying water into the sky.

"He's fantastic," Justin said, his mouth agape.

Paul rode half a dozen waves, carving them up like a Thanksgiving turkey. He was tubed a couple of times and never fell once.

When he paddled back to shore, Justin and Pierre met him at the edge of the water.

"Thanks, that was fun," Paul said, handing him the board.

"That was incredible, Paul!" Pierre gushed. "You're superb!"

"They're nice waves. Glad I could try 'em."

Justin looked at him, blinking.

"Are you... Skeeter?"

Paul looked at him a moment.

"Oh, yeah. I used to be. I go by Paul now."

"Skeeter?" Pierre asked, confused.

"The goofy-footer from Pleasure Point," Justin explained. "I've been watching him for as long as I can remember."

Pierre had a puzzled look on his face. Justin explained.

"Skeeter... I mean, Paul... is one of the better surfers on the Central Coast. He's been tearing it up for years."

"I love to surf," Paul shrugged. "It's my happy place."

"I'll be damned," Pierre said, half to himself.

Then, he burst out laughing.

"Paul, you are full of surprises!"

Back at the hotel, Sophia and Jasmine were checking in at the Spa. The Spa manager was giving them "the arrival experience".

"Big Sur has long been known as a sacred spot, a setting that gives you the time and space to focus on the things that really matter. Our goal is to leave you with a profound sense of wellbeing -- one that will take hold deep in your soul."

Sophia and Jasmine were were dressed in their hotel robes, surrounded by artwork, artisanal creams and oils, and a huge picture window overlooking the ocean.

"We have you booked for our deluxe spa treatment for two. You'll embark on the ultimate indulgence including a preparatory soak with anti-inflammatory herbs, a luxurious body scrub with coffee extract blended with shea butter, and a purifying deep-cleansing facial which will flush out excess toxins and bring clarity to the complexion. You'll enjoy all this in the comfort of one of our outdoor cabanas which provide a uniquely private spot for pampering."

Sophia glanced at Jasmine and gave her a wink. She'd generously offered to treat Jasmine to a spa treatment, something Jasmine could never afford to do as a student.

Jasmine's mother, Jessica, insisted she work part-time to help support herself while enrolled at Cal. She'd come from a modest background, worked her way through school, and was determined Jasmine learn the value of money.

Jessica, in her fashion, sat down with the young Jasmine and explained why she was making the decisions she was making. It was for her own good, to help ensure she'd develop a strong moral character and learn to be self-reliant.

And Jasmine, though she was only 12 at the time, actually agreed it was the right thing to do.

So, experiencing the hoity-toity life with Sophia was kind of a thrill for her.

The manager led them to their private cabana. There were two side-by-side massage tables and an oversized tub on the deck overlooking the redwood grove.

"I invite you to begin by soaking your bodies in preparation for your body scrub. I encourage you to engage all of your senses as the ocean breezes wash over you, the scent of the redwoods fills the air, and the sounds of the forest surround you."

She smiled and withdrew.

Sophia stepped out onto the deck, looking out at the trees. She slipped out of her robe, revealing her voluptuous body.

She stretched her arms wide, taking a deep breath, feeling the cool ocean breeze caress her bare skin.

She turned around, facing Jasmine, her naked body on full display.

She was so beautiful, Jasmine found herself holding her breath.

Her breasts were big and full, perfectly shaped and high-sitting. Her nipples were extended from the cool ocean air.

Her hips were generous and womanly, her skin like porcelain. Her pussy, neatly trimmed, had a thin landing strip of black hair.

She moved to the tub, as if in slow motion. She stepped into it with her back arched and her exquisite ass sticking out just so.

Jasmine watched her ease herself into the tub, slowly lowering herself into the warm water, letting out a sigh as the water engulfed her gorgeous breasts.

She's every bit a movie star, Jasmine thought.

Jasmine, for her part, whipped off her robe, tossed it on a chair, and climbed into the tub next to her.

"It's important to take the time for self-love," Sophia cooed. "How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you."

Jasmine smiled and looked out at the forest. From where they were sitting, they could see nothing but trees. It was totally private.

"Jasmine," Sophia said, smiling, "I must tell you, when I heard you were contemplating becoming a writer, I was delighted. I fell into the artistic life when I was your age, almost by accident, and I thank the gods every day. It led to a happy and fulfilling life."

Jasmine was looking at her, hanging on her every word.

"And what is it that makes it fulfilling for you?"

Sophia cocked her head, thinking.

"That's a good question. I think it's the day-to-day process of creating something from nothing. Of using your imagination and then manifesting that into something compelling. Something lasting. It's endlessly challenging and gratifying."

"That sounds wonderful."

"It's not without its hardships, don't get me wrong. You need to persevere. And have a thick skin. As an actor, or as a writer, there's a lot of struggle involved."

"I hear there's a fair amount of rejection."

"Oh, yes. You put yourself out there. To be judged. To be either embraced or discarded. I was lucky. I got my first big role when I was young. Your age. I didn't have to struggle for years like many of my fellow actors."

"Was that in

Penelope

?"

"That's right. I was plucked from the crowd and handed a role that was very close to my own persona. It was the perfect vehicle for me to hone my craft."