“Promise,” I mumbled into Diane’s mouth.
Debbie’s softer, broader body pressed in behind me, as her strong, confident hands began to caress my shoulders, working their way methodically down to encircle my waist, and then toy with the edges of my swimsuit. She tugged on the leg elastics and let them snap down against my ass, the impacts slightly blunted by the water.
“I wish I could say I missed having a body like yours,” she said, “but the truth is, I was never much for athletics, even before my joints went to hell. I would have been as jealous of you at your age as I am now. More, actually, since that was before I discovered the joys of not giving a fuck.”
“It’s hot on you,” I said, dragging myself away from Diane’s lips once more, and spreading my attention across her jaw and down her neck. “Not giving a fuck.”
That was the first thing I’d noticed about Debbie, in fact. She had gotten up on the karaoke stage in a bright red sequined dress that was slitted to above her generous hips, and sung a song I didn’t know, definitely from before my time, which involved a shameless, riotous, downright hypnotic amount of gyration.
“I highly recommend it,” said Debbie.
“I highly recommend this,” said Diane, pointing animatedly at me as I sucked a trail of light, short-lasting hickeys along her collarbone.
“Enough to share?” asked Debbie.
I took the hint and twisted around between them, bringing my lips to Debbie’s. She wore a pink lip balm that tasted of cocoa and coconut, and her shorter, pixie-cut hair was perfect for running fingers through, even here in the tangle-inducing water. Her softer skin was harder to adorn with affectionate marks, so when I worked my way down her body, I just embraced burying my face in softness, burrowing my way between her large breasts to kiss her sternum.
Diane took over groping me from behind, though that word fit her actions in only the technical sense. Her touch felt like a friend and mentor’s encouraging pat on the back, only not limited to my back. Her hands brought that same energy with them as they explored the shape of my ass, and then made their way around between me and Debbie, to cup my breasts.
Apparently content with her turn, Debbie spun me back around, and for a moment in the transition, there were no hands on me in any place more intimate than my shoulders. Wanting to continue the sensation of contact, I brought my own hands to my breasts, squeezed a little more vigorously than Diane had, and then wandered one hand down between my legs, stroking at the intoxicated warmth there, which defied the water to cool it.
Debbie dropped her jaw in the same kind of mock-shock she used for watching me drink.
“What?” I asked. “Never seen someone else masturbate to you two before?”
Debbie put a hand over her wide mouth, which shifted into a smile. “Well, certainly not a pretty, fresh-faced ingenue like you,” she said. “Not in a while, at least.”
“That’s hard to believe,” I said.
Debbie and Diane affectionately swatted and shoved each other, giggling and whispering under their breath.
“Not to turn down a luscious compliment,” said Diane, looking pointedly down at my working hand, “but if there’s one thing you younger people especially struggle with, it’s being in such a rush all the time.”
“Stop me, then,” I said.
Debbie’s jaw dropped open again, authentically this time, and she and Diane shared another round of giggling shoves.
“Would you like that?” Diane asked, stepping a little closer.
“Christ, yes,” I said. “I haven’t had a good pushing around since I’ve been here.”
“You have no idea what a treat this is,” said Diane, placing her hands on my wrists.
She held my left hand in place by my side and tugged on my right one.
I intended to give her a bit of a fight, but the mature, reassuring, almost instructive way she shushed me while she took my fingers away from my pussy disarmed me of any argument.
While Diane folded both my hands behind my back, Debbie swooped in and wrapped her arms around my legs, just under the hips, the way she had caught me on my way into the pool. Reversing that motion, she lifted me up out of the water and carried me back to the edge, at just the right height to bend over it.
“You have some experience getting spanked, don’t you?” asked Debbie, running her hand over my ass, palming the elastic of the swimsuit.
I racked my brain for what specific story I’d told them where this came up, but it didn’t matter, the answer was the same.
“I do.”
“I think you could use a good spanking right now,” Debbie suggested.
“It might help you slow down,” added Diane, stroking the other side of my ass.
“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I warned them playfully. “But go on and try.”
There was another couple-y giggle behind me, and then a measured but respectable slap on my left cheek, the one on Debbie’s side. A lighter one followed on the right from Diane.
“Is that how you spank in your household?” I teased them. “I thought I was the novice here.”
Giggles turned to cackles, and a volley of harder, stinging, resounding smacks rained down on me, each one making me more and more certain that I would not be getting any sleep before the flight in the morning. Even if I did make it back to the room, I had never felt more awake and energized.
It was a unique experience, being spanked by two people at once, one I realized I’d never had before, even in my more crowded adventures. The rhythm was nearly non-existent, entirely unpredictable, even compared with the blows of a single person who was trying to be unpredictable.
One moment I was being smacked hard on both sides at once, just slightly out of sync. The next, I was getting alternating smacks and pinches on the right, and elastic snaps on the left, each of which sent a cool mist of water up into the breeze. There was simply no way to brace for this kind of attention, except to open up to anything and everything.
I loved that openness, and it was one of those feelings I could never achieve alone.
“How did you get so tough, honey?” Diane asked, in one of her gentler pinching phases.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound cool and casual instead of high on the compliment. “Thrill seeking, I guess. Every new thing you try makes everything else feel a little bit easier.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Debbie agreed, giving me an extra hard slap, a little farther down. Half her hand stung the bare strip of flesh where my ass met my thigh, while the other half skimmed the surface of the pool and splashed water across my back.
“You must be getting chilly up there, though,” said Diane. Her slaps had given way almost entirely now to soft, affectionate strokes of my reddened skin.
“No offense,” I said, “but there’s no such thing as ‘chilly’ this close to the equator.”
“You’d know,” said Debbie, cupping a double-handful of water and sprinkling it deliberately over the back of my neck. “For us, this is right about the same latitude as home.”
She leaned forward and blew on the extra wet spot she’d made. Diane joined in, sweeping her breath all the way down my back and particularly targeting the seat of my damp bathing suit, sending a draft right between my still glowing cheeks.