The Waylin Dream

Part Two of a Three part series, released weekly.

When Sara woke in the morning, Byron was dressed and about to go out.

"Ah, I left you a note. I'm working til midday. At twelve a taxi will be at the forecourt for us, we're going out for the afternoon."

"Okay," Sara said, rubbing her eyes. "What should I wear?"

"This morning take breakfast at the pool bar. Any of the bikinis will be fine, you could even be topless in your seat if you wanted, but probably best to cover up at the buffet. But when we go out this afternoon, sexy is good, but better be more elegant than nude. Having your ass out in the hotel is perfect, but not on the street. Legs, shoulders, cleavage, no problem. Nipples and ass covered. Yeah?"

"Okay," Sara laughed. As if she would be the one instigating public nudity.

Byron kissed her goodbye and said he'll be back at eleven-thirty.

Sara got up, went to the bathroom, and comfortably walked the suite naked. It was a new feeling to be so free with her nudity, and her sex. She felt safe in the hotel. People looked at her with desire, but not danger.

The bikinis were much like the underwear, tiny and revealing. After the see-through dress fiasco at the beach bar, Sara steered away from the white one, or any of the lighter plain colors, going for a blue and white floral bikini. It left her ass naked, and most of her breasts uncovered either side of the nipple - but it hid her areole and vagina. She even walked out to check her reflection in the window in the sun, just to be sure. With a big hat and sunglasses, she felt unidentifiable, so even if most of her body was on show, it was anonymous.

At lunch the day before Sara had been too nervous to do much more than pick at the buffet, but how she felt better, taking advantage of the gorgeous layout. As the sun and the coffee and the fantastic food warmed her, Sara even lost the hat and glasses, walking freely around the buffet smiling back at the people who said nice things about how she looked.

It was safe. There were no kids to hide her body from. Mostly there were couples. There was the occasional single man, but mostly too old to feel they had a chance of hitting on her. Though - ordinarily, she would think Byron was in that category, too. Still, most guys were married at that age, unlike him.

The waiters were happy to flirt, however, especially when she went swimming and lay out on a sun chair in a quiet corner out of view. Two, in particular, seemed to be battling to see who could get the best of her attention, and in the mood she was in, Sara asked the less handsome of the two to rub sunscreen onto her back and her ass, knowing that would devastate the more handsome boy. She undid all her bikini strings, lying face down and spreading her legs as he rubbed perilously close to her hair-free vagina. He must have been able to see all of her plainly. Sara didn't re-do her stings when he'd finished, letting those two soak in her body from behind. Viva la underdog!, Sara thought as she saw their friendly bickering.

"I could help you tie up?" a voice said from behind where Sara was looking. A handsome and bare-chested young man, perhaps younger than her was looking down at her bare back and ass, smiling. What was that accent?

"Hmmm, I've found a man who wants to dress me, instead of undress me," Sara laughed. The guy smiled and shook his head. He didn't really want to dress her, actually.

"I'm Michele," the guy said.

"Sara," Sara returned. She rolled to her side, holding her bikini to her top but the bottoms fell entirely away. "Sorry, it's all a tangle."

"I can help," the guy offered, sitting on the side of her sun lounge, and taking the bikini bottoms. He twisted and rolled them back to shape in the air above Sara's bare mound.

"Excuse me," he said reaching out as if to help place them back. He gently ran a hand up her thigh and parted her legs. But instead of replacing the bikini bottom, he pushed two fingers into the beautiful naked vagina he'd just met.

"Really?" Sara gasped, looking around. "Out here?"

The guy was wriggling his fingers, trying not to make it obvious he was inside her, probing. Sara was starting to give it away though, gasping and flicking her head. Oh, that young man, he knew how to get her with just his fingers, Sara was quickly losing the plot. He pulled the bikini from her breasts and she let him.

"We'll get caught," Sara whimpered.

"Let's go to your room," the guy said quietly. "There I could give your pussy good service."

"My boyfriend...," Sara groaned.

"Ah," the guy nodded.

"Perhaps... your room," Sara mumbled, out of her mind with sex in her pussy.

"My girlfriend."

"Ah...," Sara groaned as Michele scraped back and forth inside, right on her sweet spot.

"Perhaps there is somewhere else quiet we can find?" Michele suggested. "I would very much like to ejaculate inside you."

"Ohhh," Sara nodded, needing it, too. Was she really going to go home pregnant after all? Just when Sara had the relief of finding out Byron's sperm inside her wasn't dangerous, she was going to step straight back into the firing line with this guy's semen.

"You want to be fucked, yes?"

"Yes," Sara nodded. The fingers inside her were pulling all the strings.

"Come then, let's give you," Michele said, pulling his fingers from Sara and helping to get her bikini bottoms back on. She was still topless as Michele pulled her to her feet and kissed her mouth delicately. Sara's bare breasts pressed against his bare chest. Michele gripped the skin of her ass and Sara reached between them to pull on his erection through his pants.

"Come," he said, leading Sara by the hand, holding her bikini top, hat, glasses, and room key in the other. The nearest cover was the toilet block.

"Wheelchair toilet? Really?" Sara groaned.

"It is not romantic, but it is safe," the guy shrugged. "We don't need long. I just need to cum in you, then I must go, my girlfriend is expecting me."

"Oh," Sara could only reply as he shut the door. At least he took his time kissing her first, it wasn't just turning her around and bending her over. He kissed her mouth lovingly as they took off their pants. They held each other's bodies tightly once they were nude, their tongues dancing. Michele gave Sara the time to kneel before him and suck his cock and lick his shaft. And by fingering her again before fucking her, he had Sara whimpering when his cock finally pushed in -- at first in front of her with a leg lifted, but eventually in from behind as she gripped the sink, watching him watch her in the mirror. Oh, that guy fucked her so well, reaching around and squeezing her breasts so hard she worried they would burst. Sara wiggled her ass back at the penetration, trying to make him feel as good with her cunt as he was making her feel with his erection. He held himself for so long, it was a wonderful feeling to be pumped over and over by such a gorgeous cock. In the end, Sara could see him cumming in his face before she felt the twitching in her vagina. He growled his semen into her. It felt so good having sperm in her, but Sara also knew how stupid it was, too. Pregnant after all.

Michele gripped her hips and held inside her until every bit of sperm had seeped out of his cock. Stepping back, he used toilet tissue to wipe his cock clean, then put his pants back on.

"I gotta go. Thanks for the fuck. Amazing how easy you give up your pussy, but I'm glad, it's a nice body. I like your cunt. It was nice cumming in you."

And with that, he opened the door and was gone. Sara was panting, still leaning on the sink, looking at her disheveled self in the mirror, so obviously thoroughly fucked. Sperm trickled out of her onto the floor. It had all happened so quickly, and now it was over. The guy was gone before she'd even stopped leaking his cum. Oh, and she was probably pregnant to a stranger.

"That was dumb," she told her reflection, dabbing at her leaking pussy and rolling her fingertip around her clit. It was like being in Thailand again. "I need to stop letting guys just that do me."

Sara sat on the toilet until the sperm stopped falling out, then wiped, dressed, and tried to look casual as she walked out and back to her room. She was afraid of being late for Byron's eleven-thirty deadline but was back in plenty of time.

"Lucky that guy was quick," she said to no one.

Sara showered scraping as much semen out of her as she could, and pondered what to wear. In the end, she took a simple yellow t-shirt with a yellow shelf bra under it and a loose denim mini skirt with denim strap sandals, slightly heeled. The bumps of her nipples were plain to see with the shelf bra, but no color came through - and she checked in the sunlight again. Sara struggled to wear the thong underwear, though. None of them felt comfortable, they all rode up into her. With her vagina feeling sensitive from the sex, Sara simply went without. You couldn't tell unless she purposely lifted the skirt, denim was too heavy for the wind to flip up.

At eleven, to her surprise, the hair stylist turned up. Of course, if she'd read Byron's note properly she would've known, but she didn't, and so it was lucky she was in and ready.

"Hmm," the guy said, "Yesterday, you were an inspiration. Today..."

"What?"

"Plain."

"But Byron said I needed to stay covered up, we're going out of the hotel for the afternoon."

"Believe me, darling, I know the streets around here better than Byron. Quick, let's take a look at what else you have in here, we need to have you dressed and hair done by eleven thirty.

"Here," he said, "Denim skirt yes, but this one, not that one."

"It's tiny," Sara protested but was ignored.

"And this," he said handing a top to Sara. "And these shoes. Hurry. I still need time to do my thing."

The guy stepped out to let Sara change but kept hurrying her from the other room.

"Much better," he said when Sara came out. "Now I have an idea!"

Sara's shoes were orange strapped sandals with taller corked heels. The mini skirt was dangerously short at the back, she fought to pull it down, and it instinctively rode up when it could. The top was a crocheted soft white halter that tied up behind her neck and around her midriff. The front exposed her tummy entirely, thank goodness it was flat.

"You can see my nipples, they're poking through this knit," she worried. "Byron said no nipples."

"You can, that's the point. I guarantee he'll love it. And this high ponytail, too. It's perfect. Exposes your back, but shows off your gorgeous long hair. Go get a baseball cap."

The ponytail fit perfectly through the gap at the back above the adjustment straps, sticking up like a half-mast erection. Byron came in just as they made the final adjustments.

"Ta-data," the stylist said to Byron.

"She's hot. Very nice. Thank you," Byron politely responded.

"Now, Sara told me that you were going out into the beach village today and we need to be a little bit conservative, but I've lived here all my days and I can tell you right now, this girl is perfectly suited just like this. Gorgeous and perfect."

"I defer to your judgment," Byron smiled, "And I agree she looks beautiful. Sara, spin? Gee, you really think she's okay with her ass out like that on bottom?"

"Believe me, on a gorgeous day like today in town, this is conservative."

"Okay!" clapped his hands. "Sold. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir. You both have a lovely day."

It wasn't until they climbed into the taxi that Byron realized Sara didn't have underwear again.

"I can't wear those thongs, they seriously go up and in. And I can't imagine you'd be happy if I wore my own?"

"No probably not. There's no time before lunch, but we can go get you something after. Sitting in places like this, with your cunt sliding on the seat is not healthy for you, and the driver won't be happy with your snail trail, either."

Lunch was booked for the crab shack on the end of the weir into the gulf. It was anything but a shack, it was gorgeous and Byron ordered the most expensive food and drinks.

"You don't have to," Sara assured him.

"You're here to experience it all. So, sit back and experience it."

She nodded, clinking glasses and getting an explanation on how to eat oysters.

"How do you keep so fit?" Sara asked, feeling decadent with her pecan pie with whipped cream and ice cream. "Eating like this, it will get you after a while."

"I only do this when I'm trying to impress someone."

"Some girl?" Sara ribbed. "Must be easy to get laid when you can do all this to impress."

"Not everyone is as easy to fuck as you," Byron smiled.

"Grr, I'm not easy to fuck," Sara said, blushing when she thought of meeting Michele that morning. She prayed the sperm had finished leaking out.

"Beg to differ," Byron teased. "Two minutes after I'm in the room, you're bent over with cock up you, taking your own clothes off for me. You are the dictionary definition of easy to fuck."

"You're having fun, aren't you?" Sara grinned.

"Yep."

"You'll never let me live that down, will you?"

"Nope."

"Okay... anyway, how do you keep fit?"

Byron laughed and explained his fitness routine, then they talked about how to solve the homeless problem, what things he should eat to make his sperm taste good when he cums in her mouth, and how sad Sara felt when her dad died. As they left lunch, Sara wanted to say how much she enjoyed being with him but worried it would sound fake, like she was trying to hang on to the perks after the weekend was done. So she smiled and hoped he could see the gratitude on her face.

They walked along the streets and through the markets. Occasionally Byron would discretely hold the bottom of her bare ass, reminding her just how naked she was below.

"It seems okay, though," Byron said to her as she looked worried. "Look around. The hair dude was right, there is a lot of it about. Look at that babe."

"Hopefully they assume I'm wearing thong underwear."

"Let's go find something that works for you."

They got off the street level and into The Lofts, an upmarket shopping area built on the top three floors of a huge old flour mill. All the luxury brands had small boutiques, including lingerie brands.

"This one has private viewing rooms," Byron said, directing her in. Sara resisted asking how he knew.

"Can you help?" he asked the lady. "Is the private catwalk available?"

"Yes sir, this way."

It was hardly a catwalk, just an area surrounded by a white curtain in front of a change room with a twenty-five-foot slightly raised walkway, just long enough to walk past the viewer to show the rear of the outfit. The area was deliciously appointed, and both of them were given a flute of champagne.

"Will the lady display the product or one of our girls?"

"Have you someone here today with a similar build and complexion?"

"Yes, Maria can do it."

"Perhaps we look first, and Sara here can see which ones she might like to wear herself?"

"Certainly. What style, ma'am."

"No thongs," Byron interrupted. "Something that will let her ass show in a skirt like this, but not cut into her..."

"Yes, understood."

"And on top, shelf, or sheer if you have it?"

"Yes sir."

Sara and Byron took a seat halfway down the 'runway'.

"Someone's going to wear underwear?" Sara whispered. "For us?"

"Yes."

"My god. That's a big effort for a pair of panties. How much they must cost!"

"For this room, there is a 'tip' for the service, so don't feel bad if we don't like anything, they still get paid for the show."

And the show was nothing like Sara had ever experienced. A girl that did look eerily like a younger version of her walked back and forth in front of them in just her underwear, whichever one Byron and the store mistress agreed. They did ask Sara what she thought, but mostly she was too overwhelmed to have an opinion. She was rattled that model would wear shelf bras for them, her breasts entirely out, and sheer panties that you could see her shaved slit through. On the walk back, she would stand directly in front of them and pose, turning when asked, until directed to try the next set. Bare breasts and pussy three feet away, staring at Sara. She tried so hard to act cool. It was not easy.

"Let's just look at the white pants again, if we could?" Byron asked. "The three different styles. Just the pants though, leave the top off. Not the thong, but the Lace Thong, yes? And the Lace Brazilian, and the third one the Brazilian Brief."

"The medium brief and high waist ones are out?"

"Out, we'll pick from those first three."

The model came out as directed, the lace thong first. Sara didn't know where to look. She had nothing else on. Her body was right there, naked but for tiny pants.

"Even though they are officially a thong, because of the wide lace waist and thicker through the crotch, they should be more comfortable, and it leaves the derrière exposed."

The model lingered and turned, before disappearing and returning with the others in turn.

"Which do you like?" Byron asked Sara.

"I really don't know."

"Okay. Can she try all three?"

"Of course," the mistress smiled. Sara was pulled up and the next thing she knew, it was her on the walkway in just panties, parading for Byron and the mistress.

"Are they comfortable?" the lady asked.

"I think so," Sara stuttered.

"Walk around more," Byron said. "We will do a lot of walking, will it be comfortable?"

"I think so."

"Okay, well, try the others."

After parading all three pants types, Sara decided Lace Thong, partly because Byron seemed most happy with it, and it did look good on her.

"If not a bra on top, have you got something else that would match those pants?" Byron asked. "A short camisole, or the like?"

In the end, Sara walked out of the shop with a bag of three sets of lingerie, and another pair of pants she was wearing.

"See?" Byron said as they walked through The Lofts, "Your ass is still hanging out, but it's safe to sit anywhere you want."

Sara took a deep breath, and as best she could she ignored that she was so exposed.

"Prada? LV? Fendi? Hermes? Any preference?"

Sara just shrugged, lost. Byron's solution was to try them all. He made her try at least one dress in each. Prada Stretch Jersey dress; LV Vintage Flower Zip-Up; Fendi Black Sequin and Chiffon dress; Hermes Fantaisie d'Etriers straight dress - but the one they both liked the most was the sleeveless, bright red Belted Short Dress by Dior. It was such classic beauty. Sexy as hell, but elegant as hell at the same time.

"Where am I ever going to wear it?" Sara asked as the attendant settled the bill.

"For a start, in our room bent forward onto that bench in front of the mirror, skirt up at the back getting the shit nailed out of you."

"Elegant description," Sara teased him. "But effective imagery."

"Actually," Byron turned to tell the staff, "She'll wear it now, can you take off the tags and put her own clothes in the bag for us?"

"Certainly sir."

This time as she walked through The Lofts, Sara wasn't just a nice piece of ass with her ass on show, she was a babe. Even with more body coverage than when she came, Sara was exponentially more alluring.

"I feel special," she said quietly to Byron, beaming.

"That alone has made this whole thing worthwhile. But - it needs one thing more."

"What?"

"Tiffany's."

"No!" Sara gaped. "That's too much!"

"Yes," Byron countered, "We need."

"Byron, please, that's going too far."

"Hey, do I look like I'm enjoying my day?" he challenged her.

"Yes," Sara smiled.

"Right. So let me continue enjoying my day."

"You know I'll give you sex without this, right?" Sara checked. "You don't need to buy me anything at Tiffany's. I'll fuck you without it."