                     "See you in a DREAM"
                       by 'INCUBUS'

You said you might need a little rest so here is a vacation for you!


I decided I needed a break from the rigors of my hectic and often
cutthroat advertising job.  I visited a friend who runs a travel
agency, and she suggested an exclusive resort she knew in
Martinique.  It sounded fabulous.  I was packed and on an airplane
within a week.

Arriving, I breathed deeply of the rich, tropical air, full of
promise of warmth, sunshine and relaxation.  A short taxi ride
later, I found myself at the resort, which was every bit as
beautiful as promised, a lush garden spot of private bungalows with
restaurant, disco, pool and its own, private beach tucked away among
the rocky shore line.  They were expecting me, and check-in was a
breeze.  Within minutes I was alone in the luxurious bungalow that
was to be mine for the next few days, tall rum punch in hand.

Finishing my drink, I reached up and loosened the knot at the back
of my head, shaking my thick, blond hair down about my shoulders.  I
removed my conservative suit, unhooked my bra to a sigh of relief
and kicked off my panties.  I slipped into a silk kimono, loving its
whisper against my skin, and finished unpacking my bags and putting
away the contents.

Peeking through the curtains at the back of the bungalow, I saw the
trail that leads down to beach, and decided a little sun would be
nice.  I got out a tiny bikini I had purchased, on a whim, just
before leaving home.  I had never worn a bathing suit so barely
there before, but figured, what the hell.  After all, you only live
once.  I let the kimono fall to the floor, and gave a critical eye
to myself in the full-length mirror.

Not too bad, I thought.  My breasts were still firm and without sag,
if maybe a little small.  I workout regularly, and it shows in my
nearly flat tummy and well-rounded butt.  Men tell me I have nice
legs, and I was lucky enough to be blessed with a pleasant face and
good complexion.  My hair hung just to my nipples, which were
crinkled and erect with the blast of the air conditioner.  I brought
my hands lightly to the undersides of my breasts, pushing up and
lightly rolling my nipples between thumb and forefinger, feeling a
jolt between my legs.  My hand strayed to my pussy.  My blond pubic
hair was close-cropped, and my labia were visible through it.  I ran
a finger lightly up and down my slit, once, twice, feeling the
wetness grow.  I pressed a fingertip against my clit and was shocked
at the sensation as I gave out a little gasp and my thighs parted
involuntarily.  God, it had been so long since I had sex!

Enough!, I thought, shaking myself from my revery.  I pulled the new
bikini on and glanced in the mirror.  God, I thought, it seems even
smaller than in the shop.  Too late now.  It's the only one I
brought.  I put the kimono back on over it, self consciously
tightening the belt, and stepped out into the warm tropical air.

I strode bravely along the trail, managing to ignore the
appreciative glances a couple of people gave me.  Turning the corner
that opened out of the jungle-like landscaping to the beach stopped
me in my tracks, though.

The resort's private beach was a narrow crescent of white sand
fronting a beautiful lagoon.  It was maybe a hundred yards long,
giving way to rugged, rocky shore line at either end.  What had
stopped me was not its beauty, though.  There were maybe thirty
people on the beach.  Most were nude.  The few women not completely
naked were topless.  No one seemed to notice me as I stood there,
breathless, almost not daring to move.

A young woman lay on her stomach, nude, not fifteen feet away, her
feet toward me and thighs parted slightly.  Kneeling above her, a
gorgeous, tanned young man was rubbing suntan oil onto her butt.
With each backstroke, her cheeks parted and coarse black pubic hair
showed.  His semi-erect cock bobbed up and down.  A little drop of
moisture at the tip of it sparkled in the sunlight, and I felt a
throb in my pussy.  He looked up and smiled, perfect white teeth
shining, then returned his attention to his task.  His penis swelled
more.

Tearing my gaze away, I walked across the beach to the shore line.
Feeling the warm water lap against my ankles, I shrugged off the
kimono, and after a moment's consideration, removed my top.  I waded
along the shore line, trying to gather my wits, following along the
rocky shore as the rocks towered higher and higher, until I came to
the entrance of a small grotto.  A sound came to me, and I ducked
behind a rock, gazing into the shadows of the grotto.

A young woman stood in the shadows, her back to me, and she seemed
to be singing in French.  She was nude, and her tiny, tanned body
showed not a hint of bikini lines.  Her legs were spread and her
labia were prominent between her thighs.  If she had any pubic hair,
it was cropped even closer than mine.  I could tell by the way she
held her arms that she was laying with her own breasts.  I could
just imagine her lover, deeper in the grotto, watching her
performance, as one of her hands came down to her crotch.  As it
turned out, she was alone.

She swayed slowly, sagging to her knees, as her fingers danced in
her pussy.  Falling forward, her ass stuck in the air, she was
totally open to my mesmerized gaze.  Without really thinking of what
I was doing, I slipped a hand into the front of my bikini panty and
began a slow circling action on my clit while the other hand tweaked
my rock-hard nipples.  Her song had turned to moans and it was all I
could do to keep quiet as she convulsed into orgasm.  I bit my lip
and shuddered right along with her, wave after wave of pleasure
beginning at my clit and spreading throughout me.  I sagged against
the rock, my hand still at my throbbing pussy, my eyes closed and
the tropical sun beating down on my back.

God, I nearly had a heart attack when I felt a soft touch on my
shoulder!  I whirled, yanking my hand out of my bottoms and self-
consciously covering my breasts.  It was her!  She just stood there,
piercing me with her gaze.  Her long dark hair framed a model's face
with deep brown eyes like dark pools.  Finally, she spoke: "You, eh,
enjoy what you see?", She asked, her thick French accent musical and
lilted.  She smiled.

Blood rushed to my face and I stammered "Uh, gee, I, Uh, I'm sorry,
I didn't mean to spy on y. . . . "

"Shhh.  Shhh-shhhh, not to worry.  It is ze tropics, no?  It makes
one feel so, how you say, very sexy!  I am Anais and you are . . . ?"

"M-m-misty...," I managed to say, lost in her eyes.

"Well, Misty, you will join me for ze beach and ze dinner, no?"  She
smiled and took my trembling hand in her soft fingers while my heart
pounded in my throat.  "Come-come..." She led me back down the
beach, her nude body glorious in the sun, talking animatedly the
whole way.  You have to understand something.  I am NOT a lesbian!
I never even considered myself bisexual.  My only real sexual
experience was with my ex-husband.  I did manage to learn to give
and receive oral sex with a man when I was in college . . . but I
was a virgin when I married.  I've never even KNOWN a gay or
bisexual woman!

The afternoon went by in a blur of sun, talk, laughter, and rum
punch.  I felt years of marital discordance and job stress melt away
as I listened to Anais's beautiful accent and low laughter.  We
shared stories and laughed at nothing.  We rubbed suntan oil on one
another and I marveled at the feel of her breasts, her ass cheeks in
my hands, not caring if anyone was watching.  Once, she leaned over
while oiling me and lightly nibbled my right nipple, just a quick
nip.  Another time her fingers strayed against my swollen pussy
lips while rubbing oil on my thighs, just one light firm rub.
By the time dinner was over, there was no longer any doubt in my
mind.  I wanted her.

We went to the disco.  It was early in the evening and the place was
nearly deserted as the reggae music boomed out.  Anais led me to a
small table in a dark corner, and a waiter brought white wine.
Anais took my hand and placed it on her firm thigh, then guided it
up as she spread her legs.  I gasped when my fingers touched her
pussy.  She wore no panties, and her pussy was soaked as I worked a
finger along her slit.  She raised her hips a little, and my finger
sank into her heat.  She clamped her thighs about my wrist,
trapping my hand, and brought a hand up to cup my breast.  "Look,"
she whispered, motioning toward the dance floor.  "It's Dafne and
Bob"

I saw the couple I had first seen on the beach.  Her back was to me,
and Bob had raised her tiny miniskirt in the rear as they slow-
danced about the floor.  His huge hand completely covered the tiny
ass cheek he was kneading.  One of her hands was between them, from
the motion of her elbow she was obviously stroking his cock.  One
shoulder of her mini-dress slipped down, and Bob bent his head to
her breast.

Anais ran a finger along the bodice of my sun-dress, dipping it into
my cleavage.  Suddenly, I felt fabric rip as she tugged sharply
down, and my left breast bobbed into view.  Before I could react,
her sharp little teeth were nipping at my breast and tugging on my
nipple.  Her pussy gave a little squeeze on my finger, and I slowly
finger-fucked her as her breath grew hot and quick against my tit.
Her hips rocked into my hand and I felt my pussy grow wetter.

Suddenly, she sat upright, pushing my hand from her crotch.  "Let's
go," she said, rose and walked away.  I clasped the torn fabric to
my breast and followed her from the club and down the trail to the
beach, our way made easy by the moonlight.  When we reached the edge
of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me.

"Take off your clothes.  I want to see you!"

I shrugged out of the torn dress and stepped out of my soaked
panties, which she lifted to her face.  "Mmmmmm," she breathed,
inhaling my scent from them, her eyes glued to my body.  Slowly, she
stripped her own dress off.  The moonlight on her dark body just
seemed to make her that much more desirable.  Suddenly, she giggled.
Tossing my panties to me, she laughed, "Catch me . . . if you can!!"
She took off toward the water.

I finally caught up with her at the grotto where I had first seen
her, and we collapsed on the sand, sides heaving with laughter and
the exertion of our run.  Finally, she rose and went to a little
shelf in the rock, where she picked up a book of matches.  She began
to light little votive candles here and there, slowly,
ritualistically, one match for each candle, until her body swam in
moon-glow and dancing multicolored light from the flames.

She came to me and took my hands, pulling me to my feet, and pressed
her body to mine.  As if it were the most natural thing in the
world, my lips parted when her tongue probed my mouth in a deep
kiss, our very first.  Our hands roamed freely over each other's
body, and my breath grew quick.  I was so wet my juices were running
freely down my thighs and I wanted her to touch my pussy so badly!
Instead, she pushed me away, sat on the sand and whispered to me.
"Go ahead, Misty"

Suddenly I knew what she wanted.  Shyly at first, I let a hand trail
to my pussy, her eyes locked on mine.  Parting my sparse curls, I
ran a fingertip slowly up and down my crease, getting it wetter with
each pass, while my other hand began to squeeze and fondle my small
breasts.  My fingertip found my clit, and I gasped aloud, pressing
into it while my thighs spread wide.

Anais rose to her knees and pulled me to her, gazing up at me with a
question in her eye, the very tip of her pink tongue visible between
her lips.  "Oh, yes, Anais," I breathed.  She didn't wait any
longer, pulling my wet fingers from my vagina and replacing them
with her tongue.

It happened so fast I don't really remember it.  One minute I was
standing there and the next I was on my back in the sand, Anais's
mouth kissing her way back up my tummy to my breasts as the final
spasms of an incredible orgasm wracked my body.  I do remember at
one point touching her face and feeling her muscles work as she
slowly pushed her tongue in and out of me like a stubby little cock.

She kissed me, and I smelled and tasted my own secretions on her
face and lips.  As my breath returned to normal, she merely asked
"Are you ready, Misty?"  And I was!  I pushed her onto her back and
bent between her widespread thighs.  Her aroma met my nostrils and
it beckoned me, drew me closer until my lips met those of her pussy
and I tasted another woman for the first time.  My tongue parted her
lips and probed, and it was as if a soft dam broke in her vulva,
flooding it with her juices.  Her hips rose to meet me as I circled
her clit, and I heard her gasping something over and over, in
French.  It finally dawned on me what it was, a number, a
wonderfully explicit number, and I swung my body around, not
relinquishing her pussy from my mouth as I straddled her face and
felt her hot tongue on my clit and her breasts against my tummy.  I
felt her fingertip gently caress my anus, not trying to enter, just
touching, and my vagina began to flutter.

I was so close, so very close, when suddenly Anais came without
warning, her hips arching up high.  As she pushed my face up with
her pussy I saw a sight I shall never forget . .  Bob and Dafne
standing at the entrance to "our"  grotto.  Dafne was on her knees
with Bob's huge cock deep in her mouth, her nose just brushing his
pubic hair, and their eyes locked onto mine as I erupted into wave
after wave of orgasm, my thighs clamping Anais's face to my
spasuming pussy, her tongue ravishing my throbbing clitoris.

Well, I never thought of myself as an exhibitionist, either.  In
fact, the very idea of somebody watching me make love would have
mortified me.  Blame it on Martinique, I guess, because knowing Bob
and Dafne were watching as I sucked Anais's clit really set me off!
I have never come so hard in my life as I did then.  I guess it
turned them on too.  Bob exploded into tiny Dafne's mouth with such
force that thick globules of his semen slipped from her lips and
drooled down her chin.  She was moaning with delight, cooing around
his member while her own body shook from the dance her fingers were
doing between her thighs.

Later, after we had all caught our breath, Anais introduced them to
me for the first time.  Bob and Dafne owned the resort, and had
lived in Martinique all their lives.  Dafne, it turned out, spoke
only French, but the sperm-flavored kiss she gave me when Anais
introduced us, said far more than words ever could.  Bob spoke some
English, although not well, so Anais translated for them.  Anais
worked for them, she explained, as an administrative assistant for
the resort, handling large corporate accounts, that sort of thing.
They invited us to spend the evening with them at their house, just
up the beach from the grotto.

Their home was magnificent!  Split-leveled, it nestled in the rocky
shore-line just yards from the water.  The entire ocean-side of the
home was one enormous glass wall with a commanding view of the
lagoon.  They led us around the side of the house to a huge wooden
deck surrounding a free-form swimming pool.  A bathhouse stood at
one end, and they led us there, where we showered away the sand,
seawater and sweat.  Still dripping from the shower, we dove into
the delightfully warm pool.

We splashed and played in the pool for thirty minutes or so, like a
bunch of children.  Finally tiring, we gathered in the shallow end.
Bob stepped out of the pool and walked toward the bathhouse.  I
stood there, Dafne snuggled under one arm and Anais under the other,
and I think all three of us were admiring his body and the way his
muscles moved.  Bob picked up a phone on the wall of the bathhouse
and said a few words in French then hung up.  I couldn't help but
notice the way his penis swung from side to side as he walked back
toward us.

He flashed another of those perfect smiles.  "Michel will bring ze
towels," he said in English.  Anais explained to me that Michel was
their houseboy.  Dafne and Anais started up the steps, and I watched
for a lingering second, entranced by their beauty and the
differences between them.  Dafne was much darker than Anais, with
short dark hair and brown eyes.  Between her legs was a luxurious,
thick thatch of jet-black hair, quite a contrast to Anais's shaved
Mons.  She was even smaller than Anais, but had breasts larger than
either of us, with wide, dark aureole.

I started to step out of the pool, water streaming from my body, as
Michel arrived with an arm load of towels.  A tall, muscular boy, he
could have been anywhere between eighteen and twenty two.  I was
determined to be as nonchalant about my nudity as my new-found
friends were as I reached for the proffered towel, but something
about the way he looked at me had a lump in my throat.  I felt my
nipples crinkle up and my vagina contract as he studied my body.   I
don't think he once took his eyes from my blond pubic hair, and I
could still feel his eyes on me after we had toweled off and
started toward the house.

We relaxed in a large, airy den, not bothering to dress, and Bob
poured wine for all us.  Handing glasses to Anais and Dafne, he
turned toward me with the final glass, then suddenly tripped on a
rug.  I was drenched in white wine!  Before I could even gasp with
shock, though, I had a bigger surprise as all three of my new
friends began to cleanse the wine from my body with their tongues!
Anais concentrated on one breast, Dafne the other, and Bob knelt on
the floor between my thighs, which were widening of their own accord
from the sudden attention.  He licked my tummy clean, probing
insistently at my navel, then dipped lower, lapping at my pussy.

My eyes fluttered shut as I concentrated on the wonderful feelings
coursing through my body.  My arms reached around the two girls, and
I hefted Dafne's large breast in one hand, feeling the nipple come
erect under my palm.  Anais twisted around a little and guided my
other hand to her shaved vulva, and I probed a finger into her
wetness.  Bob pulled me down to the floor, and the four of us moved
as one, their mouths never leaving my skin.  Someone kissed me, a
soft mouth, and I opened my mouth to the fluttering tongue before I
even looked to see who it was . . . beautiful Dafne.  She tasted so
sweet!  I dropped a hand to her pussy, parting her curly hair and
ran a finger along her cleft.  She was as wet as Anais and myself,
and gasped into my mouth when my fingers found her swollen little
love button.

Anais rose and swung a leg across my face, lowering her pussy to my
mouth, and I eagerly began to lick her.  Bob spread my legs wider,
and I felt Anais's tongue at my clit as he slowly, so slowly,
pressed his huge cock into me.  My God, he was so big, so hard, and
I wanted him deep inside me so badly.  There was no pain, only
pleasure, but as he began to stroke it in and out I felt it reach
places that had never been touched!  I felt an orgasm began to well
up in me, and my hips rocked to meet his powerful strokes.

Anais shifted forward slightly, and I opened my eyes to see a huge,
penis.  Michel!  The head was wet with pre-come, and I licked it off
hungrily as Anais reached behind her, her tiny hand pumping the
shaft.  I guided it into her pussy, marveling at how it stretched
her labia as he began to fuck in and out of her.  I licked the
glistening shaft and his balls, her lips and clit, anything I could,
as my orgasm erupted.  My body was on fire!  I felt Bob's cock swell
inside me, and rocked my hips into him harder, faster, harder, and
he erupted, shooting molten pleasure into the deepest parts of my
seething canal.  Dafne was reaching her own orgasm at my busy
fingertips.

Michel pulled his penis out of Anais, the head just touching her
labia, and began to come as well.  Thick gobs of the stuff streamed
out, covering her lips and my face, as I tried to get all of it in
my hungry mouth, lapping ravenously at her pussy and the head of his
marvelous tool.

What more can I say?  We passed the rest of the night in hedonistic
pleasure, making love in every conceivable combination, until we
collapsed into a sweaty, satiated pile.  Bob at one point even
videotaped Dafne, Anais and I as we got into a three-girl "daisy
chain," bringing one another to shuddering orgasms with our tongues.
A copy of that tape is one of my most treasured possessions now.

I gave up my high-pressure advertising job, and moved to Martinique
to stay.  I am now the director of marketing for Dafne and Bob's
resort, which caters exclusively to swinging couples and select
singles.  Anais and I share a beautiful bungalow at the resort, and
often mingle and party with our guests.  Maybe I'll see YOU there
sometime!  I'm easy to spot . . . I'm the blond with the all-over
tan.



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