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“When we first started dating, I never imagined we’d be spending Christmas in the Virgin Islands,” Melanie said. She was standing on our hotel balcony in her pajamas watching the sun rise over the Caribbean Sea.

“No? Were you thinking cold porridge in a one room loft over someone’s garage?” I chided. I climbed out of bed and wrapped my arms around her from behind, sliding my hands under her camisole and cupping her breasts.

“Not quite that bad,” she replied, leaning back into me, her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled a mixture of the beach and the fruity shampoo she favored; a smell I always found comforting. “You have to admit, you convey more ‘starving student’ than ‘island hopper’.”

“It’s my aunt who has the money,” I reminded her. “She’s the one paying for this room, and the one with the house on the beach.”

“How did she get her money again?”

“Earned it the hard way – she married it,” I said. “My mother often told me marrying money is the hardest way to earn it. You never quite feel like it is yours, and, as was the case with my aunt, her husband never really let her feel like she was worth it. But she was young, beautiful and intent on seeing the world and living well. So when a man twice her age needed a trophy wife, she accepted.”

The sun completed its ascent over the horizon and was now too bright to look at. I glanced to the beach and watched the hotel employees preparing sun chairs, uncovering and untying the jet skis, and setting out towels for use by the hotel patrons.

“My aunt once told me,” I continued, “‘if you want something in life, find out what it costs, and pay it’. She probably just thought being treated as nothing more than an object was her price for what she wanted.”

“I don’t think I could stay in a marriage like that,” she replied, turning to face me. “I guess that’s why I’m with a starving student.”

“I think we all make sacrifices in life to get what we want,” I said, nuzzling her neck. “I’m sacrificing my sleep to be with you watching the sunrise, for example.”

I ran my hands down her back, under the boy shorts she always wore to bed, and squeezed her ass, just below the cheeks. She responded by tilting her head back. Emboldened, my nuzzling became nibbling, and I worked my way up her neck to her ear. I felt a hand run through the hair on the back of my head as she submitted to my advances.

“You don’t like the sunrise?” she asked.

“It was almost as beautiful as you,” I whispered before gently probing her ear with my tongue. Her hand left my head and found its way into my boxers.

“Is that from me or is it your morning wood?” she teased, gently stroking.

“It’s for you, either way,” I said, sliding the shorts off her backside.

“Not out here, it isn’t,” she scolded, pulling her shorts back up. “Besides, I’m hungry. Let’s go for a run and then join your parents for breakfast. They are always up early.”

She slipped out of my arms, back into the room and was headed to the bathroom with a change of clothes before I knew what to say.

I couldn’t say I was surprised, though. We’d been dating for nearly four months, ever since the dorm mixer two weeks after classes began, and we still hadn’t consummated our relationship. It’s not like she was a virgin, nor was I, and she was game for pretty much everything else, just not ‘the deed’.

Ultimately, it didn’t bother me that much. We were both freshman, just finishing the first term of our college programs, and sex could imply commitment; something neither of us wanted. She spent all of high school dating the same guy. It didn’t end well when they went to different universities, and she wasn’t interested in starting something serious right away. I was just happy to be with someone so spectacularly gorgeous. Having her on my arm made me feel like a tycoon; which wasn’t bad for a ‘starving student’. If that meant settling for heavy petting and the occasional hand job, I would continue to rub one out as I needed until she was ready. But I was going to keep trying.

“You should get dressed,” she said, emerging from the bathroom in yoga pants and a sports bra. “I want to get two miles in before breakfast. We start practicing for the spring soccer league the first week of the new term, and I want to be ready for it.”

“I can’t go anywhere with this,” I said, pointing to my still-at-attention member. “Some assistance?”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Remember that time we went to the Greek Life event, during rush week, and I drank all that spiked punch?”

“Yeah,” I replied, not sure where she was going with this but hoping it ended with a group of sorority girls in various states of undress I hadn’t heard about. Because that night sucked. She got sick and passed out in the yard. I had to carry her back to her dorm and leave her roommate to take care of her.

“I made the mistake of eating jalapeno poppers right before that. Remember how sick I was? Those poppers burned my nostrils as vomit spilled out of me. My nişantaşı escort nose was sore for a week,” she said.

“I didn’t know that. That sounds awful! What’s that got to do with helping my situation?” I asked.

“It’s gone, isn’t it?” She smiled and pointed at the lack of a tent in my boxers. “Now get dressed.”


“We didn’t expect to see you here so early,” mom said, hugging each of us.

“Mel likes to run in the morning,” I explained. “I like to keep her company.”

“I would too,” dad said in a voice only I could hear, elbowing me in the ribs.

“What was that?” mom asked him.

“I said it’s good for him, too,” dad replied. “Let’s go grab a seat where we can see the ocean.”

The hotel restaurant was mostly empty at that hour and it didn’t take long for a server to approach and take our orders. Dad asked for his usual oatmeal with brown sugar. Mom wanted a fruit plate and an English muffin. Mel requested an egg white omelet with spinach and a side of fresh fruit. I broke the bank and went with a seafood omelet with cheese and bacon.

“You’ll need to run in the afternoon, too, if you keep eating like that,” mom said.

“He’s still young. His body can absorb that without a problem,” dad defended me.

“What are your plans for the day?” mom asked. “Your father and I are planning to do some sight-seeing before meeting everyone at Aunt Kim’s for dinner. Did you want to join us?”

“We hadn’t really discussed it,” I said. Planning was not my strength. “What do you think, Mel?”

“Should we just go hang out at the beach?” Mel suggested.

“Well, if the beach is what you want, I highly suggest you just go straight to your aunt’s. Her house is on the most beautiful secluded cove on the island,” mom said. “One thing about Kim, she always knew how to find the most extraordinary places in the world. When your Uncle James passed away from cancer two years ago, she sold everything they owned, which was a lot and invested it in her place here. When we were kids, suffering through a New York winter, she told me she was going to live in the Caribbean, and she’s finally living her dream.”

“Do you think she’d mind?” I asked, “us dropping in so early?”

“Not at all,” mom replied. “We never confirmed a time we’d arrive. She said come over whenever. She’ll be there.”

“That sounds perfect,” Mel said, excited at the prospect of a private beach. I loved seeing her so happy.


After breakfast, we gathered the clothes, suntan lotion and beach supplies we would need for the day, located the address for my aunt’s house, and hailed a cab. A twenty minute drive through rolling hills and tropical scrub brought us to a private drive secured by a large, wrought-iron gate. We unloaded our bags from the car, paid the cab, and rang the intercom. No answer came, so we rang it again with the same result.

“Well, now what?” Mel asked. It was at least a two mile walk back to the nearest retail shop, and neither of us had purchased an international plan for our phones, so we had no service.

“Do you hear that?” I asked, straining to hear over the rustling of leaves blowing in the morning trade winds. “Listen. I think I hear music.”

“Sounds like…Garth Brooks!” Mel said. “I got friends in low places.” She sang along, bending her knees to a crouch when she said ‘low places’.

“Aunt Kim must be home but can’t hear the intercom over the music,” I said. “Let’s try the gate.”

It opened and we walked through and down the winding brick driveway to the house.

“My god, it’s amazing!” Mel said, admiring the stone façade. “It looks like a castle. Look! It even has turrets on top of the tower!”

I had to agree with her assessment. The house was amazing; like Aunt Kim had shipped a European castle, brick by brick, across the Atlantic and reconstructed it here in St. Croix. It had windows with rounded tops, two giant towers, complete with turrets at the top, and a front door large enough to drive a Hummer through. Just as impressive as the house was the landscaping. Perfectly trimmed bushes accented by just the right amount of flowers. Everything with cultivated to exacting standards by someone with an eye for design.

“Let’s find the music,” I said, grabbing her hand. “I’m sure that’s where we’ll find Aunt Kim, and she can give us a complete tour.”

We followed a stone path around the turreted tower and walked several meters along a stone wall that was too tall for me to see over, even if I jumped, until we finally reached a wooden door under an archway. Garth had moved on to ‘Thunder Rolls’, and the music was much louder here. We had to shout to hear each other speaking.

“I hope this is the right address,” I said, trying the door. It opened, and we stepped through into a garden paradise.

At the center of the garden was a large, square fountain with winged kağıthane escort cherubs pouring water into it from each of the four corners. A three-tiered marble bird bath rose from the fountain’s center, spilling water over the sides of each level into the base. A tall hedge intersected each of the four walls of the fountain, dividing the garden into four areas. Each corner of the fountain pointed to a different section of the garden, each section with their own selection of colorful flowers and trees bursting with fruit. One corner had a cluster of lemon trees, with rows of potted sunflowers creating a path from the fountain to the trees. In another section, kiwi trees provides shade for a collection of well-pruned roses of every color. Nothing seemed out of place, overgrown, or unplanned.

I looked around in amazement at the cornucopia of flora, my eyes jumping from one burst of color to another. If this was really my aunt’s house, she knew how to design a garden. I would have to take pictures so I could create my own when I was no longer a starving student. An urgent tugging on my arm pulled me away from my thoughts. Mel was pointing at something she really wanted me to see.

“Is that your aunt?” she asked, pointing to a head facing away from us on the other side of a small hedge. “Please tell me it is. I love this place!”

“I – I can’t tell,” I said, straining to see over the hedge. “It could be. She is blonde. But I can’t tell from here. Aunt Kim! Aunt Kim, it’s Chad…and, my girlfriend, Mel!”

The figure didn’t move. The music was too loud for her to hear. I motioned for Mel to follow and we walked around the fountain, found a gap in the hedge and made our way to the other side.

“Oh my god,” I felt Mel tense as the words left her mouth. It was definitely my aunt. She was seated on a bench, legs crossed with her hands resting on her knees in a traditional yoga pose. Her eyes were closed and Garth was finishing Thunder Rolls from a small speaker next to her. She was also completely naked.

“We should go,” Mel said just as the song finished and the speaker went quiet. Her voice was the only sound and it echoed through the garden, bouncing off stone floors, stone walls, and the stone fountain.

Aunt Kim opened her eyes. We spun around as quickly as possible, turning our backs to her. Garth started to sing Two Pina Coladas, but was cut off as my aunt killed the speaker.

“Chad! Is that you? It’s been ages!” Aunt Kim said, brimming with enthusiasm. “And this beautiful creature next to you must be, now, what did your mom tell me her name was…?”

“Melanie,” Mel said, turning around to greet her. “My friends call me Mel”.

“That’s right, Melanie, like a melody for the ears,” Aunt Kim said. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

I turned around expecting to see she had put on a robe, or some kind of covering. Nope. Still naked and standing expectantly with her arms open.

“Uh, sure,” I said, cautiously. “Don’t you want to get dressed first?”

“Oh! I completely forgot. I’m sorry. It’s my morning ritual. I call it ‘convening with nature’. I meditate in my garden, listening to the man whose words stir my soul, dressed as the day I was born,” she explained. “I’m afraid all my clothes are back in the house. I wasn’t expecting anyone so early.”

“Mom said we could drop by any time,” I apologized, wishing we had called first.

“It’s fine. No problem. Well, not a problem for me, anyway. I do hope you are not offended, or uncomfortable.” She sat down on her bench observing us with curious eyes.

“Just, a bit of a surprise,” Mel said, rescuing me from my stunned silence. “It’s not something I would have ever expected.”

“Me either,” I said, finding my voice, trying to find a place to look without being rude. “I didn’t know you were, well, I knew you were a bit of a ‘bohemian’, I think is the word my mom likes to use, but I never connected that to, what’s the word…?”

“I’m not a nudist, if that’s what you’re chasing,” Aunt Kim said. “Just comfortable in my own skin. I don’t play volleyball or cook barbecue in the nude. I just enjoy exposing my full self to nature.” She raised her hands high in the air with outstretched arms, welcoming nature to her.

“Have you ever tried it?” she asked us.

“Me? No. No way,” I said, quickly averting my eyes. I hadn’t realized I was staring. It was hard not to. Aunt Kim was about ten years younger than my mom, which made her just fifteen years older than me. I still had memories of her as a young college student, running around the beach in a bikini my mom would later refer to as ‘scandalous’ when discussing it with my father on the drive home.

She hadn’t changed much since then. A little fuller in the hips, a few more lines on the face, and much more toned from years of having a personal trainer. But her eyes were the same light blue, her breasts were as full and firm as when she was in her twenties, and her hair was just as blonde, without a trace of gray; osmanbey escort and I could now confirm she was, indeed, a natural blonde.

“What about you, Mel,” Aunt Kim asked, a twinkle in her eye. “Ever tried it? Or thought about it?”

“I used to go skinny dipping in high school,” Mel said. “Not much else to do in Iowa when you want to be a rebel but not ruin your body with meth. But we mostly did it at night, not so much in broad daylight.”

“You really should try it,” Aunt Kim encouraged. “It’s both invigorating and relaxing, and absolutely liberating.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Aunt Kim encouraged. She stood up and walked towards Mel. “Maybe you should go first. I bet if you do it, he will.”

“Right here? I mean, shouldn’t I like, put on a robe first?”

“Why? You want to put on a robe just to take it off? What sense is there in that?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” Mel said.

My aunt was standing next to her now and took Mel’s hand, holding it between hers.

“Are you saying my young Chad has not yet seen you naked?” Aunt Kim asked, both amused and perplexed. “How long have you been dating?”

“About four months,” I replied.

“Interesting,” Aunt Kim replied. “And, you have yet to…be intimate?”

“He’s seen me naked,” Mel blurted. “And, I haven’t been ready for intimacy.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” Aunt Kim apologized. “I just remember myself at, how old are you, eighteen, nineteen?”

“We’re both nineteen,” Mel replied.

“I remember myself at nineteen, and you could not have kept my hands off a man as handsome as Chad,” Aunt Kim said, letting go of Mel’s hand and softly stroking my chest. “But, times are different, people are different, I’m sure you have your reasons.”

Mel started to say something, but stopped.

“No need to share if you aren’t ready,” Aunt Kim assured her. “I’m not judging. Never do anything that makes you uncomfortable or you don’t want to do.” Aunt Kim smiled at her with kind eyes and a knowing look.

“In any case, you two are welcome to join me while I finish my meditation or, if you prefer you can go wait inside.”

“How much long-,” I began.

“I’m in,” Mel said abruptly. She pulled her yellow tank top over her head and tossed it to the ground. I watched in utter amazement as she continued first by undoing her bikini top, then dropping her shorts and bikini bottoms to the ground in one movement, before finishing by kicking off her sandals. “There. I wasn’t sure I could do it, once I said I would, but it’s done. He’s seen me naked. I’ve been naked with other women, you know, like, in the locker room, so, why would this be a big deal?”

“Great job!” Aunt Kim said embracing her. “Now what do we do with Chad?”

“He’ll join,” Mel said. “Right Chad? I’m in, you’re in?”

I had no reply. My mouth moved up and down, mouthing words, but I could not force any sound through my lips. I stood astonished. Mel, a woman far out of my league, standing stark naked, hands on hips, urging me to strip in front of my equally naked aunt whom she had just met less than five minutes ago.

I wasn’t sure where to look. I wanted to admire Mel’s curves, the way her thighs curved towards each other from her knees and then back outward, just before they could meet at the top, leaving the sought-after “thigh gap” just below her wiry triangle. I considered reveling at the way her breasts stood proudly on her chest, like two oranges hanging as a pair from a tree branch. My gaze darted from breasts, to legs, to taut stomach, to her eyes. Her expectant look diverted me away from her altogether.

Now I was staring at Aunt Kim. Breasts the size of grapefruits with light pink areoles, small and perfectly round at their tips. A blonde bush sparkling in the morning sun. Slender legs tanned and toned. Feet walking towards me. Eyes bemused and entertained.

“Do we make you nervous, Chad,” she asked, in a voice that was simultaneously mocking, empathetic, and apologetic.

“Nervous? I…no…I wouldn’t call it ‘nervous’,” I stammered. “Unexpected circumstances…unforeseen events…a series of actions I had not planned a reaction to, not that I’m a great planner. I’m having a hard time processing it all, yes. Nervous is not the word I would use.”

“He said that awfully fast for someone who isn’t nervous, don’t you think?” Aunt Kim asked Mel.

“If I, of all people, can do it,” Mel encouraged, “you can, Chad. It isn’t long before you forget you aren’t wearing clothes. It’s a lot more natural than I expected. Your aunt is right. It is very liberating, and relaxing.”

“How about this,” Aunt Kim said, taking my hand. “We’ll turn around so you can undress. You tell us when you’re ready. Or, if you really aren’t up for it, you can remain the odd one with all your clothes on and Mel and I will just enjoy our time convening with nature together.”

That was an interesting way to put it. I’m the odd one because I’m dressed. She didn’t wait for an answer. She spun around, walked back to Mel, and, together, they turned their backs to me, arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

“Let us know when you’ve decided,” Aunt Kim shouted over her shoulder.

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