Amy’s Vacation Ch. 03

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After a fitful nap, I woke up and noticed the time. It was 7:15! My tummy was rumbling, and Daddy was snoozing away. I nudged him a little, and he begrudgingly woke up.

I grabbed my luggage and headed to the bathroom to start getting ready for dinner. No time to shower and re-do my hair, so I pulled it up into a ponytail and did a quick braid. That’d have to do.

From my small suitcase, I selected a red dress that fell just above the knee. But, with Daddy’s hurried packing job, the strapless bra I normally wore with it was still at home… let’s face it, men usually don’t know much when it comes to bras paired with outfits… so I’d have to go without. Didn’t want to show off bra straps with the spaghetti straps on the dress!

I figured I could get away with wearing the red lipstick I almost never wore. Why not? Red heels to compliment the ensemble.

Upon coming out of the bathroom, I noticed Daddy was already dressed and ready to go in his “resort wear”: khaki pants, a Hawaiian shirt and leather flip-flops. Even casual, he was quite handsome!

He smiled at me and said he’d made a fast call to The Copa, the main dining room, for reservations. Turns out, they were booked until 10pm, so we’d have to go another night. Instead, we were going to The Beachside Breeze.

I took Daddy by the arm and we marched down the winding lane from our bungalow to one of the standard shuttle areas. With a property so large, it helped to have a shuttle service available in common areas.

As we awaited the shuttle, I glanced around at a few of our fellow vacationers.

There was an older couple… very elegant looking. I presume they were rich, because they were both wearing lots of gold jewelry: the lady had gold rings on almost every finger, and several gold bracelets, a gold watch and golden earrings. Her dress was a beautiful jade color, and it plunged low, showing off her ample cleavage, which was much more firm than the rest of her. Boob job, for sure. The bumps on the fabric covering her bosom also betrayed another detail: pierced nipples!! She was obviously wearing rings with a capture bead, because it looked like she had two nipples per breast. She looked at me and elbowed her husband, and they both smiled at me. I smiled back and gave a head nod. He had a definite Italian look of a man in his upper 50’s: silver and black hair slicked back, big side burns, and even though the sun was setting, he was still wearing sunglasses. He too had a few golden rings on his fingers and even a few gold bracelets and chains, with a gold watch that was big and bulky. A few tufts of white chest hair stuck out from under his bowler shirt.

Another couple at the shuttle stop was younger… probably in their mid-20’s. She was athletically built and gorgeous, perhaps with some Asian in her lineage. Her dress was made of a sparkling black and silver fabric that appeared to be delicate, if not outright breezy. It had a halter top tied behind her neck and though it covered most of her front, it dropped precipitously all the way down her back; and I mean, ALL the way down her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and because I could see the smallest inch of the top of her butt crack, it was obvious she wasn’t wearing panties either. The dress had long cuts up both sides and showed a LOT of thigh, which was lovely, because she was in fabulous shape and her long legs terminated in a pair of strappy heels that laced up her graceful calves. One one of her legs, an intricate dragon tattoo started somewhere high on her leg, perhaps on her hip, and rode the length of her thigh to just past her knee on the outside. The man she was with was an imposing figure… he must have been 6’5″ tall! He was a handsome black man, bald headed, wearing a tuxedo, but without the shirt… just the jacket, pants and shoes. From under the jacket, was a gold chain, but, not like a necklace… it seemed to be attached between his nipples. I surmised as much, since he was also wearing a collar with a lead that was held by the woman he was with. I think they were a Domme/sub couple, but, Daddy always taught me never to assume, so, I’m not for sure. Maybe I’d see them again during the vacation and learn more.

The final couple waiting for the shuttle was a pair of women. They were in casino ┼čirketleri their mid-40’s, and it was obvious they were having a great time together, cracking jokes between them. I’m thinking they had pre-gamed a bit and taken advantage of the bar in their bungalow. They were dressed “resort casual” for sure: matching Hawaiian shirts, cargo shorts and sandals. Lots of earrings in their ears. Short-cropped haircuts. Each of them was holding a drink in their hand, and their other hands were clasped in each others. Lesbians. I smiled, and reveled in two women who were able to be out and be themselves.

When the shuttle arrived, we all boarded, and it drove us through the property. The older couple and the Asian/Black couple both hopped off at the main shuttle stop. They both seemed to be headed for The Copa, and it only spurred my interest further in having dinner there. It definitely seemed like a more “dressed up” place to have dinner. The lesbian couple rode onward with us, and it became apparent we were all going to the same place: The Beachside Breeze. Daddy and I talked to them a little bit as we were swiftly moved down towards the beach. Susan and Jeanne were from Arizona and had been together for 25 years, since their college days. They suggested the Conch salad at The Beachside Breeze and said that if Mario is bartending, his “Mario’s Mango Madness” is THE drink to get. I smiled, as I must have looked older than my age, if these women were suggesting that I try a cocktail! Woot-woooot!

Daddy put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze, “You’ll have to try one of those, pumpkin!” I smiled up at him. Permission given! Challenge accepted! (hee-hee!)

The Beachside Breeze is an open-air bar and restaurant, with about 60 tables upon a cursory glance. The middle of the room is a huge bar, with a tall fish tank in the middle that reaches the top of the upswinging thatched roof and bottles of all shapes and sizes surrounding it. All of the bartenders seem to be Jamaican men, with gorgeous dark skin and gleaming white teeth. They don’t wear shirts, but simply wear bright colored board shorts. I, for one, am not complaining. Most of them are extremely muscular, and if I were alone, I think I could spend my time sitting at the bar, counting their abs and trying to figure out who has the best looking pectoral muscles.

A thatched roof covers a majority of the restaurant, but there is a patio that wraps around 3 sides, with the fourth side dominated by a dance floor and a band stage on the corner. There were a few vacationers out on the floor dancing… some were good, some were just doing the “stand and sorta shake your hips” dance move, but everyone seemed to be in great spirits, and the music was fabulous. We let the lesbian couple go ahead of us, but they meandered over to the bar, so Daddy checked us in with the host stand and we were led to our table by a beautiful young Jamaican girl wearing a gauze, see-through sarong. She was shapely and the fabric hugged every curve of her body. I’m pretty sure Daddy simply followed her ass, because, to be honest, that’s what I did, as she led us to the table. We both might have been hypnotized… and better for it.

Our table was under the thatched roof, but we were on the ocean side, and I could see the beautiful waters of the Caribbean and hear the crashing of the waves. It was magic to my ears! For a girl who’s only been to the beach a few times in her life, I certainly feel a strong connection to it. If I had my way, I think I’d live at the beach forever. Maybe I can make that happen, someday. I said as much to Daddy as we perused the menu, and he smiled and said, “You’re a natural for the beach, sweetheart. Perhaps you’re part mermaid!”

A moment later, our server, Marcus, arrived. He was Jamaican (no surprise) with a huge smile (again, no surprise… these people are so happy! I love it!). He had a thick accent, but spoke English well and he led us through the menu. I asked if Mario was bartending tonight, and he replied, “Why yes, Miss Strekal… are you wanting one of his Mango Madnesses?” I nodded in the affirmative and he joked, “Well, we’ll be seeing you on the dance floor in no time, then… his drinks always make the girls wanna dance.” as he gave my Dad a wink.

Marcus returned casino firmalar─▒ with our drinks: Mario’s Mango Madness for me and a Red Stripe beer for Daddy; it’s apparently the Budweiser of Jamaica. And Daddy does love his beers from around the world! I ordered the Conch salad, on the suggestion of Susan and Jeanne and Daddy ordered a surf and turf, taking advantage of the local seafood and a great steak at a greater price, to put it in his words. The ladies were correct- the Mango Madness tasted delicious! You could hardly taste the rum and the mango was the perfect pairing! Jamaicans sure know how to make a great rum drink.

Daddy and I watched the people dancing on the floor and talked about specific couples. He asked how I was enjoying my vacation so far. So much had happened, and it was only the first day. I loved it, and I thanked him again for bringing me to Jamaica. We talked about some of the different amenities that he had learned of on the website… snorkeling, zip lines, paddleboarding, the day spa, outdoor shows, etc. I’ve never snorkeled before, so the prospect of doing that excited me. Anyone can snorkel, as long as they can swim, and I’ve always been a really good swimmer. And of course, like any girl in the world, spending some time at the day spa getting a massage would be A-MA-ZING! So, Daddy said he’d book us a “couples massage” and a “hot stone” massage for me later in the week. SO EXCITED!!

Our food arrived with flair. Marcus did a little magic trick that made a salt shaker appear out of thin air and then he set the rim of Daddy’s plate on fire, which flared up quickly then fizzled out. “Dinner and a show”, he said, with that huge grin as he set down the plate in front of Daddy. We both applauded and were left to enjoy our first meal at the resort. It was so tasty! I tried a bite of Daddy’s steak and lobster, and he helped himself to a little of my conch. Not too firm, it melted in my mouth, and the light oregano vinaigrette paired perfectly with it.

Throughout dinner, we chatted about all sorts of things. My Father kept staring into my eyes and on a few occasions reached out and took my hand, rubbing his thumb over my fingers. It was so tender and romantic.

When dinner was finished, Marcus stopped by with dessert menus. Daddy asked him to hold off for a bit, to let dinner settle. The band was churning out the great music and after about fifteen minutes, Daddy offered me his hand. “Care to dance, pumpkin?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed as I took Daddy’s hand happily and he led me to the dance floor. The music was hopping, but we still took it a little slow, as we’d just eaten. I did a few twirls though, and my skirt blew up, allowing me to flash a little leg, plus maybe a peek at the red thong I had on underneath, to anyone sitting at a table and watching. It was fun! A slow song was then played and my Father swept me up into his arms, holding me tight. I nestled my head on his chest and we swayed to the music.

The moon was out, the music was right, and I felt so peaceful and safe. I must confess, I also felt his monster growing in his slacks. At the end of the song, Daddy lifted my chin, told me he loved me (which made me grin hugely) and he kissed my lips delicately.

He motioned me off the dance floor so we could order dessert. I led the way back to the table, and at one point, for some reason looked back. Daddy was following me, smiling, looking down at my butt. It was then I noticed that he had a little wet spot on his khakis… right where his penis was… (giggle)

“Dessert” at a resort in Jamaica does not mean the same thing as it does at a restaurant in America. “Dessert” in America might be a piece of pie, or a hot fudge sundae, or a slice of cake. There could be a candle, or sprinkles, or something interesting. But at a resort in Jamaica, it means that it’s likely going to be a foot tall, with enough sugary goodness to kill a bus load of diabetes patients, and just for good measure, a bunch of burning sparklers. I was almost embarrassed when Marcus brought out my Chocolate Eclair Cake dessert, but I also laughed and applauded with glee, and a young lady who worked for the resort came over to take our picture. Daddy later explained that this was “old-school hospitality”; nice restaurants in the g├╝venilir casino past used to take pictures of patrons for special occasions. We held hands, his arm around me, and she took the photo. She smiled and said it would be delivered to our virtual account on the resort’s website.

I’ve always enjoyed learning about retro, old-school life. I know it’s a wonderful world we live in now, but, that bygone era, where everyone dressed nicely for dinner or even airplane rides, still carries a lot of romantic weight. Maybe I’m an old soul. Maybe I long for the past. Maybe I’m just a romantic girl at heart.

With dessert out of the way, Daddy and I elected to take a moonlight walk on the beach. I kicked off my heels and carried them as we walked, hand-in-hand. It felt so natural to do this with the Man who created me; to be this close to him and have meaning in our closeness.

This felt like a romance, and I began to see my Father in a new light… a whole new world of possibilities was opening up to me. Perhaps it was more than just sex and love between a Daddy and his daughter. Maybe there was a “soul mate potential” here that we both felt.

My musings on this paused, as we came across some lit tiki torches. In the dancing flicker of the flames, we could see some beach blankets with a small group of people on them. As we got closer, we could make out two men and two women. They were participating in group sex. One of them men was standing, while one of the women was on her knees, giving him oral sex. The other girl was on her back, licking the first woman’s pussy, and the other man was fucking the second woman. The standing man caught our eye and between moans, waved us over.

We approached, but stayed just beyond the boundary of the tiki torches. Daddy positioned me in front of him, and we stood there, watching two couples have amazing sex. The sound of the waves, the distant music from The Beachside Breeze’s band and the sounds of the people on an erotic journey before us made for quite the scene.

As we watched, Daddy slid a hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I felt his erection through his pants against my butt. His other hand slid up over my shoulder and plunged into the top of my dress. He found his way to my breast and began to massage it… squeeze it… tease my nipple, which was rising very fast. After a moment, the hand around my waist began to rub my belly, then slip downward to just above my venus mound. His fingers began to playfully gather the material of my dress, until he reached the hem. Then he slid his hand up to my waist and under the band of my thong. His hand dove down and found my bareness… his middle finger sliding just between my labia, seeking my clitoris and finding it with ease.

My knees nearly buckled with that first flash of electricity from his touch. I was aroused from what I was watching and his touch only made me moreso.

I felt myself sink back into him and I reached around to grab at his crotch. I could feel his hardness with my tiny hand and a small moan of pleasure escaped his lips at my touch. We watched intently as Daddy rubbed my little pink pearl and then dipped a finger between my valley and into my waiting wetness. It felt SO GOOD. One of the ladies smiled as she saw us watching her get double penetrated by the men, but quickly went back to her own personal enjoyment.

“No one cares what anyone else does here, Amy,” Daddy whispered in my ear. “This resort is dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure. We can watch anyone in public and do anything in public we want. And right now, I want you to cum for me…”

Daddy’s hand motions grew more intent and his grasp on my breast more urgent. He began kissing my neck. A crescendo of pleasured moans wafted from the foursome we were watching as both men stood and ejaculated all over the women before us.

And with that, I came all over my Father’s hand.

He let me down easy… carefully taking his hand from my panties. I hear him lick his fingers and give a moan of satisfaction and pleasure as he did. I kept watching the two couples who were now lying in a pile, lightly kissing each other and rolling their hands over each other.

Daddy’s hands went to my shoulders and he pulled me back, away from the tiki torch line. “Come on, Princess… let’s call it a night.”

We turned away from the scene and walked back towards the Beach Breeze to catch a shuttle back to our bungalow, for a fitful sleep, and dreams of what may come tomorrow.

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