Research Project

Thanks to my wife for suggestions how to improve the story. She is the epitome of beauty, grace and dignity.

* * *

THURSDAY:

The look in Harold's eyes spelled trouble. I had plans this weekend; my husband Rudy would not be happy with a last minute change. But as forty percent shareholder in our partnership, Harold was pretty much my boss. I made a fair bit of money with my twenty percent, and so our group went along with whatever project he came up with.

We were field researchers for investors. If some person or some fund wanted to buy into a business, we did the legwork visiting the facilities, talking to the managers and staff; interviewing suppliers and customers. If it was a retailer we shopped, chatted with other shoppers, checked stock, appearance and so on. If it was a hotel we checked in for a few days. Our team usually consisted of one of the guys and me.

There were four of us. Harold brought us together and made the initial business contacts. I was hired as the token woman, as eye candy, and, believe it or not, for my awesome business skills. I am as smart as I am good looking. Judging from the way men get tongue-tied and drool in my presence, I am very good looking. I have an Ivy-League MBA, green eyes, long brown wavy hair with bangs to my eyebrows, and a chest that attracts attention without mesmerizing. I dress conservatively, only hinting at what I've got. It's much more alluring that way. Men are still able to look in my eyes, and I am able to look in my husband's.

It was Harold's eyes I was worried about. They looked troubled, which implied that whatever project he had now would not be pleasant. He stood over my desk.

"Spit it out," I said.

"Long weekend at an isolated resort in the U.S. Virgin Islands. We'd fly out early tomorrow morning"

I jumped from my seat. "On Thursday you tell me I'm going away for the weekend? We have tickets for the symphony Saturday night. Beethoven's Ninth."

"I know it's not right, Mrs. Freeland. Do you want me to call Rudy myself to apologize?"

I sat back down. "He's my husband, my problem to deal with. Besides which, I haven't agreed to go. Who's the client?"

"Greenrock Capital Group."

I jumped again, ran around the desk and gave him a huge hug. We'd been trying to lure Greenrock for over a year. They were constantly investing and would have tons of work for us.

"Easy, Marie, easy." He wasn't smiling. "This is an awkward project. It would be you and me for three days at a new concept resort they're considering. It's out on a private peninsula, private beach, and no more than twenty guests at a time. They want the atmosphere to be, how shall I put it... private, intimate. It's a resort that's um, wild, if you know what I mean. Well, oh, uh, natural."

Rudy wasn't big on the outdoors. I, on the other hand loved the wilderness. I had given up hiking, camping and canoeing when we got engaged. "It sounds like something I'd enjoy. Only three days?"

I wondered why Harold looked so surprised. He should have been pleased.

"Don't you enjoy that kind of stuff, boss?" I called him boss when I wanted to tease him.

"I've never done it before."

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

Harold finally sat down on the visitor's chair opposite mine. "Shouldn't you discuss this with Rudy before accepting?"

" Is it a gay resort?" Could anyone else on the team go instead of me?

"No and no."

"What happens if we refuse the assignment?"

"We lose Greenrock."

"Can we afford to lose Greenrock?"

Harold steepled his hands in front of his face, resting his chin on his fingertips. "Marie, I appreciate what you're doing, but this is different than other assignments we've taken on. Are you sure you want to risk it without Rudy's approval?"

I took a sip of my tea. "Rudy hasn't brought home a dollar of income in over ten months. He says he's working on a big contingency project but can't tell me a thing because of confidentiality agreements. His share is twelve percent, but twelve percent of nothing isn't enough to survive on. We've been living on my salary and his taking out equity from the old house he inherited. We'd be broke or renting out the empty maid's quarters if it was up to him."

"He's with one of the biggest law firms in the city. He hasn't had any billable hours in ten months?"

"Harold, I love him to death, but if we're going to start a family within the next year or two, we can't afford to depend on his job. I've got to make the money with my work, and Greenrock will certainly make that easier."

Harold looked at me silently for a couple of minutes before nodding. "Okay. I'll pick you up at six a.m. tomorrow. Pack light." He stood.

"I'm a woman, Harold. Don't tell me how to pack."

"Go home. Get ready, speak to your husband." He walked out of my office.

I immediately called Rudy, to be told he was in a meeting all day and couldn't be disturbed. I left a message with the receptionist. "Call your wife, it's important. I have to travel tomorrow." He would understand the implications, though he wouldn't be thrilled at us missing the concert we had bought tickets for months earlier. I wasn't thrilled at having to defer the baby-making practice I had planned for after the concert.

Rudy's annoyance showed when he walked in the door at six-thirty that evening and glanced at my suitcase by the door. "In such a hurry to leave?"

I walked over to him as he removed his jacket. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I get back into your arms." I loosened the belt holding my robe closed. I had a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms under it, so it wasn't a very seductive move.

"Driving somewhere?"

I shook my head. "Okay, I lied. My return flight is scheduled to arrive at seven on Monday evening, regardless of when I start the trip."

He hung up the jacket, smiling at me as he loosened his tie.

"Harold's picking me up tomorrow morning at six. We're going to the Virgin Islands."

Rudy wrapped his arms around me, holding his face just in front of mine. "But you're not a virgin."

It was reassuring that he trusted me to go to the Caribbean with my boss. I dropped my hands to his ass. "Are you sure of that?"

He slipped his hands inside my pyjama bottom and started to slide it down. "You're right; I better make sure."

"After supper? The chicken in the oven will get ruined."

He continued sliding it down. "Okay, but first I want an appetizer." He carried me to the couch, put his knees on the carpet and my legs over his shoulders. I marvelled once again at how skilled his tongue was at giving me pleasure; I marvelled more at how happy it made him to do it.

I explained the trip to him over the meal which followed. "It's a new concept for a luxury wilderness resort."

"That sounds like an oxymoron."

I laughed. "I'll be one with nature, while being pampered and protected. Should be fun."

"No taking off the top of your bikini, though. Harold's married. So are you, come to think of it." He winked.

My husband's good mood was going to make it harder to leave in the morning. "I'm bringing a modest one-piece, and I promise not to take it off. I may ask Harold to put sunscreen on my back, but that's it."

FRIDAY:

We spent the night practicing making babies, ensuring I was not a virgin, dragging ourselves out of bed at five. I washed up, had a light breakfast, and was ready a few minutes early. I plopped myself on Rudy's lap and he slipped his hand under my knee-length skirt.

"What's the research project's name?"

"Huh, I didn't even ask Harold. Hold on." I pulled out my phone and opened the email with the itinerary. "Gossamer Sands Nature Resort." I forwarded it to Rudy as I heard a car door open outside our house. "Right on time."

Rudy grunted as he picked up my suitcase and took it down the walk. "Brought your rock collection as usual..."

Harold came out of the car, scowling at the suitcase as the driver lifted it into the trunk.

"Hey Harold, can I trust you to protect my girl's honor?" Rudy always made some such joke when I traveled with my boss.

He would usually respond 'I'm armed and dangerous,' or some other silliness. This time he just muttered "yeah, Rudy" and got into the car.

Rudy and I gave each other a fiery, tongue laced send-off before I climbed into the limo and closed my eyes. I was exhausted but managed to stay awake enough to check in and get to my seat. Harold was strangely silent, but that was good; I was too tired for conversation. We were starting our descent to Charlotte Amelie when I finally had enough energy to chat. I straightened my seat back and turned to Harold. "Did you do much wilderness camping when you were younger?"

He had a puzzled look on his face. "Hardly any. Why?"

"Well if we're going to a wilderness resort I—"

"What are you talking about, going to a wilderness resort?"

"That's what you told me yesterday. You said it's wilderness, natural."

Harold turned a ghastly shade of gray. He looked ready to pass out. "I never said wilderness," he whispered. "I said 'wild.' Not natural, but 'aux naturel,' as in naked.

It was my turn to change pallor. "What are you telling me?"

"Why do you think I was so insistent on you talking to Rudy?"

The truth was starting to sink in to me, dragging me down like an anchor under the water. "We're going to be..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Yes! I thought I made it clear... Remember I told you to pack light? We're not going to be wearing anything; you won't need a change of clothes."

I played yesterday's discussion back in my mind. I played back my promise not to take off my one-piece bathing suit. I'd be able to keep to that, because I probably wouldn't even put it on. "What about Clara? What does your wife think of this?"

"She says my dick is too small for her to worry about some woman wanting to steal me away."

"Charming."

"We tease each other. I know it's not that small, and I know I keep her satisfied. It's mean, what she says, but it doesn't bother me."

I started to cry. Harold wrapped his arm around my shoulder to comfort me but then the announcement came on to straighten seat backs and tables in preparation for landing. He took my hand instead.

"The resort has a driver meeting us at the airport. What do you want to do?"

I shook my head. How could I answer that question? I was in a daze as we de-planed, as we picked up our luggage. A tall man with brown straight hair was holding a sign 'Harold and Marie Pencer.' The resort presumed we were married. He broke out in a big grin as we approached but didn't offer to take our bags.

"Welcome to the Gossamer Sands. I'm Earl, and I'll be your host while you're our guests. Anything you want, just ask."

Harold stopped, and pointed at my suitcase. "Earl, please."

"Sure, no problem." He grabbed the suitcase handle and gave me the once over. "You're gorgeous. I'm going to enjoy taking care of you." He put a hand on Harold's shoulder. "You too, handsome."

I didn't know what to do. How could I refuse now? I followed Earl to his van. He put the bags in back, then opened the doors to where we were seated. "We're very protective of our guests' well being. We're going to stop at a lab to take a small blood sample to make sure there are no health issues which could affect your enjoyment. It's painless and clean. You won't even have to get out of the car. We'll have preliminary results by evening." He closed the doors, got in his seat, and drove.

"This is my fault," I said to Harold. "I heard what I wanted to hear instead of listening to what you said. Oh, God..." I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.

Not for long. A few minutes later the van door slid open, and a pleasant looking Asian woman asked for my arm. She swabbed it, found a vein and took a small sample, half filling the test tube. She applied a band-aid, told me to apply pressure and then repeated the procedure with Harold. We were quickly on our way again.

"What was that for?" Harold asked.

"Oh, the standards... Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, HIV, Syphilis, Trichomoniasis."

I buried my face in Harold's shoulder. He put his arm around me. "Oh God, this really is what I'm afraid of."

"Don't you worry my beauty," Earl said. "Many of our guests are uncomfortable when they arrive, but they soon get into the spirit of things. I guarantee you will have a very pleasurable visit, one you will never forget."

I lifted my head. "I'm sure about the never forget. Not so sure about the rest."

"Don't you need a release signature to collect blood samples?" Trust Harold to think of the technicalities.

"We'll take care of all the paperwork when we arrive."

Paperwork. This was a business transaction. This was a business project. I had bungled it by not paying attention to Harold's initial description, hearing only what I wanted to hear. I had to fix that. I couldn't let this research blow up on us because of my mistake. I spoke softly to Harold's ear. "I apologize for not listening yesterday. We'll do what we have to do. We'll make this work. We'll make this good for us." He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed gently.

I watched as the scenery rolled by: ocean vistas, gentle hills, forests. My hand was latched firmly onto Harold's hand as we drove. I drifted into a kind of reverie, broken suddenly as we pulled to a stop in front of a small, raised drawbridge. Earl spoke into his walkie-talkie, and the bridge was lowered, allowing us to drive into a small parking lot. I looked at Harold, sighed, and walked with him towards the registration desk. I didn't flinch as I looked at the smiling, beautiful, dark skinned woman coming over to meet us. She was utterly naked and spoke with an Island accent.

"I'm Emily. Welcome to the Gossamer Sands. I trust Earl has taken good care of you."

"Fine, just fine."

Earl beamed. He was sitting on a chair, removing all his clothes.

Emily beckoned us over to the desk and handed us each a registration form. The print was tiny, the paper glossy and the lighting bad. I tried to decipher the text, but after a couple of minutes, I just signed. I was uneasy, and smart enough to know that I shouldn't have signed something like that without reading it. Especially at a resort where I was supposed to run around wild and naked for a few days. Especially at a resort that demanded a blood test for sexually transmitted diseases.

Emily looked at a clock. "Dinner will be served in a couple of hours. If you're hungry or thirsty Earl will bring you over to the bar for a snack. The rules you just signed state that no clothes, phones or cameras are permitted within the resort boundary. Please go into the dressing room and get undressed."

"The dressing room has the wrong name." Earl laughed at his joke, then pointed. "It's over there."

"Don't worry about your privacy," Emily said. It will be strictly protected. We use the most advanced technology to secure our facilities."

"What technology?"

Emily pointed at the ceiling, then at a few columns. "The entire grounds are covered by security cameras. They're on a network which makes them hacker-proof. Everything is recorded, but no one sees the recordings unless there's a problem. You're protected, even when alone."

Another contradiction to associate with this place.

"There are bags to bring your clothes back to your room. Please give me any cell phones or cameras, and I'll put them in a locker." Emily held out her hand.

Harold and I went into the dressing room (sic) and stood facing each other.

"In for a dime, in for a dollar?"

"Yes, boss." I quickly undressed, turning so he could unclasp my bra. We both put our clothes in garment bags with our names on them. I looked him up and down; I couldn't help but notice. "It's not so small." I pointed, and it immediately got bigger. I tried to paste a leer on my face to cover my embarrassment. "Are you going to stiff me this weekend?" Clara's nasty remark to her husband was totally uncalled for.

He lightly caressed my nipples with his thumbs. "Talk about stiff..."

I've worked with Harold for about eighteen months. Outside of handshakes and occasional hugs, this was our first physical contact ever. I smiled at him. "In for a dime, in for a thousand dollars." We went back to the reception area, bag of clothes over one arm, my hand grasping the crook of his free arm.

Earl rose, in both senses of the word. He was a lot taller than Harold, but his equipment was more or less the same size. He walked over, took my clothes bag, fondled my bum and kissed my cheek.

Emily did the same to Harold. "We're almost finished the registration. Just a couple more things." She had each of us stand against the wall, arms out, legs apart, and then took a picture of each of us. "For security." She had each of us hold an index finger to a glass plate on the desk. "Your fingerprint is the key to your room."

"One last thing," Earl said. "We insist that everyone use condoms, at least until we receive their test results back from the lab. If you see someone with an orange plastic ankle bracelet, that means they've tested clean. We still suggest the rubbers, but you're free to make your own choices, at your own risk."

"How many people are we expected to fuck while we're here?"

Earl wrapped his arms around the small of my back and pressed my body against his. "That's completely up to you, my dear. I hope I'm one of the people you choose."

I made a small effort to push him back. "I don't—"

He put a hand behind my neck and kissed me gently. "Let's go to your room, get ready, then I'll give you your orientation tour." He loaded our suitcases and garment bags on a wagon, motioning for us to follow.

It was a beautiful, cloudless day. Hot, but not oppressively so, with a light wind rustling the trees. I felt the sun's rays on my skin as we followed the path to our cabin. I shivered, not from the temperature, but from the exposure. Harold walked beside me, his raging erection reminding me of my nakedness. We passed another naked couple, playing chess. They waved and shouted greetings as we passed.

Maybe I shouldn't have, but I immediately compared. The woman had a little belly along with slightly saggy breasts. The man was tall and lean. I couldn't evaluate his dick; he wasn't erect.

"That's Elaine and Marty, from Oregon. They're a week into a two-week visit. They've spent so much time naked that it no longer gets Marty right up. Emily says that it's impressive though when he gets excited."

Harold glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He sniffled, his shoulders were heaving. I thought he might be ready to cry. I was certainly on the edge. I stepped closer to him, squeezed a butt cheek, then put my arm around his waist. He reciprocated and we shared a smile. His erection rose a little more.

"Here we are." Earl directed us to a free-standing wooden building, about three hundred square feet. It had a huge window facing the walkway, and a large deck with table and chairs in front. Inside there was one large room with a sofa, queen size bed and mini-fridge. The toilet was like a stall in a public washroom, and the shower consisted of a showerhead and a floor drain off to a side of the single room, with no curtain or door. The cabin was clearly designed to eliminate any hope, any expectation of modesty, of privacy. Earl showed us where to stow our things. We certainly didn't need to unpack any clothes.

There was a massage table in front of the window. Earl pointed to it, asking "who's first?"

"For what?"

"You can't enjoy yourself if you're sun-burned. One of you hop up and lie on your stomach. I'll show you how to apply our special sunscreen." He took a bottle of a dark oil from a shelf under the table. Neither Harold nor I moved.

"I'm just putting a combination sunscreen and insect repellant on you. We're in the Caribbean and the sun is intense. You can't go outside otherwise. It's a special blend, and it has to be applied properly to work." He turned to me and then to Harold. "Come on, up you go. It will be pleasant." Harold looked at me; I nodded and he climbed up.