I’d been there before so as soon as I had stripped off into the mandatory dress-code – a towel around the waist – I headed to the bar and struck...up conversation with two ladies that I had smiled at on the way in. Cathy and Cheryl were their names, and I’d say they were both about40. Cathy was plumper and smiley, a real blonde I guessed. Cheryl had bigger hair and was blonder, though that was because she was a bleached blonde I thought. It was really easy to strike up conversation and very. Instead of feeling free, I was actually feelinghighly nervous and in actuality completely scared at being seen dressedlike this. I glanced about me listening very carefully, what could I do?What could I do?I could make a run for it, yes, but where would I go dressed like this?There was no way I'd walk back home like this, what would people say ifthey saw me, I'd be a laughing stock, I'd never make it.The sound of the front door banging closed made me jump from myquerulous reverie and with a. The hostages where all watching and keeping silent. They didn't know what to expect from this young girl but they knew she was their only hope.With a gesture the other men let her free. She kept up the fake sobs as she spoke. "Well I think you were going to use my mommy’s body for something naughty," as she spoke she pulled her arms from her dress. "So I figure if you don't hurt my mommy, you could do those dirty things to me." With that she tugged down her top to expose her half orange sized. The conversation at breakfast was light, easy and intimate. None of us were embarrassed or timid about what we had done. There were no furtive glances, no secrets to be kept, no attempt to hide our desire for each other. We were family; we weren’t matched couples, so there wasn’t going to be any fumbling, hesitation, jealousy, or complications. The girls laughed easily as they compared orgasms then agreed that from that day on the four of us would be sex partners until the vacation was.