I lowered the brochure, stared into the room of the expensive honeymoon retreat. The photos sort of matched, if you squinted hard enough.
The promised house on the beach was little more than a ramshackle hut that threatened to fall down in a good gust of wind. Seriously, how old was this place? I looked back to the brochure. Maybe from the sixties, given the bikini the model was wearing.
"The sixties called, they want their house back." Yvonne said, echoing my sentiment as she peered through the now unlocked door.
"Oh come on." Mom said with unconvincing excitement as she surveyed the room. "It's not that bad."
"It's like the start of a horror movie." I muttered as I looked to mom and Lily. "We can go back to the hotel."
"I've never known him to be this cheap." Mom said grimly, gazing at the antique swag lamp hanging in the corner. "Maybe he would do something to me like this, but not Lily."
"There's no way dad could have known." Lily said, running a finger on a shelf. It was clean, but very much out of style. "It looks great in the brochure."
I looked through the window. The dark band of weather on the horizon seemed to be ever closer now. "If we leave now we can still make it before it gets dark."
"No!" Lily said firmly. "I'm not going back. I'm staying. I will not stay under the same roof as that prick or that conniving bitch!"
We exchanged looks.
"I'll start unpacking." I said defeated, headed back to the SUV.
"And that's why you're my favorite son!" Mom laughed. "Don't forget to clean up your mess!"
"My mess?" I protested.
Yvonne made a shooing sound and waved her hand at me dismissively. "No arguing! Listen to your mother. Now get!"
Mom and Yvonne laughed, and Lily shook her head.
By the time I finished getting the suitcases in and cleaned up the mess Yvonne and I had made, the skies had began to darken as the forecast-ed storm spread a line of darkness on the distant horizon, signaled by an occasional gust of wind.
Hurriedly I showered, put on swim shorts and a tee shirt, and went to join them.
They were seated at the weathered tiki bar on the sturdy dock, an empty pitcher of margaritas sitting forlornly before them as they talked animatedly.
Making my way down the sandy stretch, I couldn't help but smile. It was like the beginning of a porn movie. Three lovely women on a tropical island with a handsome stud while a storm loomed in the distance. In such movies, the storm would be bigger than everyone thought and it would wash out the bridge, knocking out electricity and making rescue impossible, stranding the hapless foursome on the island.
However will they survive?
Not that such things happen in real life though.
I mean, that was my mom and sister down there.
Still, they looked pretty damn good from here.
Thankfully I was wearing my sunglasses so I didn't have to worry about being pervy while I openly ogled the women.
Most visually stunning of the three was Yvonne by a country mile. She had changed into a microkini that was way too revealing. She may as well have not worn a bikini at all, so little did it cover, but what it did cover was just enough. Absolutely gorgeous. I could watch her all day. And the thought we had fucked twice already bode well for the rest of our stay. Just thinking about being with her started to make me hard again.
Now was not the time to walk around with a trouser tent.
Shaking my head, I reluctantly turned my attention to my older sister.
Lily was wearing a rather daring two piece bikini that rivaled Yvonne's already provocative microkini in sexiness. I couldn't believe my staid sister would wear something revealing. No doubt it was meant to entice and excite her husband during their honeymoon both on the beach and in the bedroom and would have done a damn good job in both places.
It emphasized her well toned body to the nth degree, like she was a bikini model superstar. Then I realized she looked a lot like mom when she was younger and active in sports. Lily was not as well endowed as Yvonne, but still had nice perky breasts, around a size thirty two, 'C' cup I estimated. Long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a face favored by photographers the world over.
"Oh my god." I thought with stunned realization. My sister is fucking hot! She was not the tall thin lanky girl I knew from childhood. Lily had matured into an amazing work of art of the highest caliber.
Jesus fucking Christ! Why in the world would her ex-fiance throw someone this gorgeous away? What was he thinking?
As I do with all attractive women, my attention was immediately drawn to Lily's feet, fortunately she was still wearing flip flops. I felt the all too familiar sensation wash through me and I knew I was going to have a tough time the next several days. It was one of those moments I wished Lily and I weren't related. Oh the things I would do to those beautiful, wonderful feet!
Lastly, I gazed upon my mother, the woman who had brought me into this world.
Mom had changed into a rather plain two piece string bikini. Simple side ties held the fabric swatches in place. She was very pretty and the memory of her in my lap returned with full force.
I shook the thought away and caught up with the women already deep in a conversation of their own.
Overhearing just a minuscule part of their conversation, I realized several things at once.
They were bashing all men, calling us pigs and worse.
Okay, fair enough I guess. Lily's fiance threw away a good thing by fucking a bridesmaid only days before the wedding, and I was just perving on all three of them.
Secondly, they brought me along just to serve as their personal servant. I was going to the whipping post for the foreseeable future as they vented their anger on me for their hatred of all men. I'm sure I was going to be besieged with requests to make drinks, etc, all in keeping with their 'we hate men' club rules.
I was right for no sooner did I sit down, when Yvonne turned to me.
"Just in time!" Yvonne said, holding up the empty margarita pitcher. "Go make us another!"
Still, being in paradise with three beautiful women wasn't a bad thing was it?
Until it was.
Just like a movie, no sooner did I return from making another pitcher of margaritas when the a hurricane hit us. Well, I call it a hurricane as the rain was a solid sheet of water, and any sort of heavy rain was the apocalyptic end of the world for a native Californian. I think they called it a tropical storm, one step removed from full blown hurricane. Whatever it was, it was still far more rain than I had ever seen. We rushed back to the main house, shouting and laughing all the way.