Three Days in Arcadia Ch. 01
Date: 05.10.2008
Keywords: Ch., Three, Days, 01, in, Arcadia,
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Hal's hands were tingling in anticipation as the rotor blades of the ContiBank chopper began winding to a halt. The pilot remained in his seat, flicking switches and beginning to fill in a log book. He did, however, incline his head at the exit door as a green light came on. "Thank-you, sirs and madam, you can now alight onto the platform."
Working his way out of his bucket seat, Hal brushed out a few creases in the lap of his two-button suit and moved aside an empty champagne glass so he could follow the others out of the passenger compartment and into the tropical sunshine. The flight had been a slightly boring number of hours, despite the luxury accoutrements of the fast-flying helicopter.
The pad was mounted in the open air, where a palm tree-dotted park area met with miles of golden sand. A balmy breeze hit Hal's face, and he blinking in amazement at the way in which the perfect blue see stretched out to join the sky on the horizon line.
Alongside him, Brad Kratman stretched his arms out over his head, as though waking from a refreshing sleep. He was Hal's boss, a ten year executive veteran of ContiBank's cut-and-thrust world of corporate finance. Hailing from an Ivy League school and born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Kratman's immaculate background and education was matched only by his rugged good looks. He had the kind of Herculean physique that Hal had always envied, and bundles of panther-strong muscle filled out his Armani suit.
Brad was legendary not just for his boardroom realpolitik, but for his bedroom swordsmanship. He had no less than three secretaries, all busty beauties that he banged senseless on a daily basis. And at home, a former lingerie model wife who was stacked and according to office lore did pretty much nothing except shop and suck cock (mostly Brad's, but not exclusively).
Slapping his smaller comrade on the shoulder, Brad alighted from the platform and strode out to meet the welcoming committee which the Arcadia Resort had despatched to them, a single figure standing patiently. As the sun was behind them, Hal couldn't quite make out any more details.
Hal took one last glimpse at the sea over his shoulder, and turned to offer a hand to the third member of their team as she stepped down from the platform onto the perfectly-trimmed parkland.
Rebecca McQueen had been the object of Hal's feverish fantasies for some months now. Newly arrived from their European offices, she was a stunning twenty-seven year old who had formerly been a professional dancer (of all sorts, the word was) before diving into the world of super-rich finance. Her perfectly oval face broke into a grin as she accepted his aid, her mouth quirking upwards on one side, brown eyes flashing merrily at him. She was two inches shorter than he, at about five seven, but had an impressive physical presence which evoked envy in women and lust in men. A sharply-tailored skirt suit did nothing to hide the athletic form beneath, cinching in tight around her small waist and pulling taut across her shapely bust. On the days that she wore some scooped-out top Hal and the other executives at work would get a glimpse of a high, firm rack and creamy skin. His eyes dropped automatically as he walked behind her, drawn to an incredibly pert behind. Rebecca wore her brown hair tied back into a long single ponytail, which swung alluring down her curvaceous back. Like many of his workmates, Hal harboured a longstanding fantasy involving having Rebecca from behind while pulling her hair and generally going wild. Something about her cool, professional façade and slight distance made her intoxicating sensual physicality all the more compelling.
Not that anyone from the ContiBank Corporate Lending section had ever lucky enough to lay her. The word was that Rebecca reserved her taut, athlete's body as a high-level bargaining chip when dealing with awkward clients. According to ContiBank lore, the deadlock on the Toshiba / Sony takeover had been broken by her giving herself to Sony's chief negotiator for a mere twenty minutes in a locked and curtained boardroom. She's emerged with pearly semen sprayed across her ponytail and the back of her blouse and on her butt, but also with a signed contract in hand.
Their team's success in that venture, among others, had earned them their weekend on Arcadia, a low-key and secretive island resort which professed to sate the sensual needs and fantasies of its exclusive clientele.
Hal made up the final member of their little executive team. He was a whipcord lean young former systems analyst and languages expert, barely twenty years old and considered a potential future partner. Brad and others, however, would often tease him about his youthful looks and occasional lack of confidence around the ladies. Not that he had reason to be nervous, as hours in the company Olympic pool had given him the lean, sculpted body of a competitive swimmer.
Breaking from his reverie, Hal scurried to catch up with Brad and Rebecca, who were already shaking hands with the Arcadian representative.
Hal's breath caught as finally got close enough to shade his eyes and make out her features. And boy, it definitely a 'her'!
***
"My name is Mimi," She said, extending a warm golden hand to Hal. His eyes drank in the sight of her, six feet of bronzed perfection, even as he mumbled out his own name. This uber-babe had the kind of body that even Rebecca had to admit was likely to stop traffic. Long, athletic legs tapered up to short cut-off jeans which clung to shapely hips. A taut, washboard stomach contrasted wonderfully with the lush expanse of her chest. Mimi was gifted with a rack which unusually combined a certain jiggling softness with easily apparent gravity-defying firmness. Brad was already drooling next to her, one hand opening and closing at his side as he stared openly at the racing red bikini top which strained to contain her chest. It was cut narrow, exposing plenty of smooth, ripe flesh.
Laughing, Mimi was apparently unphased by the reaction of the two men in the group. Her good humour further enhanced her already beautiful surfer-babe face and golden hair. "I've already explained to Brad here that I'm the one-woman welcoming committee, although the Island is extremely easy to navigate. You can simply follow this stone-paved path which will take you right into the hub of our little resort. You can't miss the central reception area."
After a few moments chit-chat about their flight, and passing them information packs, Rebecca and Hal allowed themselves to be ushered along the path by Brad, who was clearly much taken by the dancing-eyed Mimi. She allowed him to slip an arm around her waist, as he waved his companions on up the path towards the main resort village, indicating that they should continue on without him. Grinning, they complied.
***
At the entrance to the palatial main reception building, Rebecca was recognised by a woman emerging on her way to a Porsche parked in a neat little car park at the side.
Eve was a lush-figured, blue-eyed babe in her early thirties who stepped forward and kissed Rebecca on each cheek, introducing herself as the liaison for female guests. Immaculately white slacks clung like to her like spray-paint in all the right places, and her tailored shirt was open, exposing a tanned and ample cleavage. As she got close, her impressive rack pressed in against that of her client, although Rebecca certainly didn't appear to mind. Hal noticed that although they were of the same height and athletic build, Eve had the bigger tits, and her blond hair was cut fetchingly short, barely brushing her shoulders. Like Rebecca, she had a killer butt, and Hal was momentarily lost in fantasies of both women before him, frolicking full of Sapphic lust. Somehow, he thought he detected a certain smouldering chemistry between the two of them, and he noticed that Rebecca was holding herself a little oddly, slightly leaning into the older woman.
Hal couldn't help but exclaim something about how Rebecca was "in good hands", a certain feverish undertone in his voice. Rebecca 'tssked' and looked over one shoulder at him, and raised an eyebrow in reply. Eve, an arm around her guest, shrugged her shoulders and simply said "Here on Arcadia, we're open to all sorts of possibilities. We hope you will be too. The tests and profiling you submitted to in advance will hopefully allow us guides to show you a good time you never dreamed of. But part of that entails taking a ... open-minded approach to our services".
Rebecca nodded thoughtfully at that. Eve laid a cool hand on Hal's, and suggested that he meet the two of them later at the seafront bar. "Any of the other hosts will be able to direct you to it. In the meantime, I'm going to drive Rebecca here over to her villa. Why don't you check-in inside?" She winked, grinning at him. "There are, no doubt, a few members of staff in there who would happily show you around a little."
Leaving the two women to it, Hal good-humouredly headed up the steps and into reception. No reason, he decided, not to go solo and have at it on his own bat.
Not looking over his shoulder, he missed it when Eve confidently pulled Rebecca in for an open-mouthed kiss, tonguing her softly and at the same time running a hand down to pull up one shapely leg onto her hip. Rebecca gasped a little, but allowed herself to mould to the other woman.
Then, hand in hand, they slipped into Eve's Porsche.
***
This left, of course, Brad and Mimi.
They hadn't strayed far from the helicopter pad, only moving down to the beach for a walk barefoot. Brad's Prada shoes dangled from one fist as he strolled along happily.
At six two, he had a bit of height on his companion, but only a couple of inches or so, and her Amazonian physique suggested to him that here was a women who could probably match his sexual athleticism in bed. And seeing as this was Arcadia, he reminded himself that there was nothing to stop him finding out immediately.
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Keywords: Ch., Three, Days, 01, in, Arcadia,