Hide in Plain Sight

"Okay. I'll take you and Karen over to the Army-Navy Surplus later today and then we'll drive around and figure out some escape routes. I want to make sure you don't have to rely on motels and public transportation this time. I mean, that's always an option, but I'll set you up with some camping gear in case you need to go to ground and rough it.

"The only other thing I can add is that I'll pull up the security camera footage of the front desk for when this guy came in. Maybe we'll get a better picture than the one you took at the pier."

"Sounds good." That was all we could think to discuss for the moment, so Prachi reported for duty on the front desk, while Jason locked up the security office and the two of us headed down to open up the pool for the day and to continue my lifeguard training.

###

Monday is a light day at the resort so Vicki was happy to let Jason take me, Beth, and Prachi offsite for a long lunch. We grabbed some Mexican food and then headed over to the Army-Navy store.

Apparently, Monday is a light day at the store, as well. We were the only customers. Jason was happy to see that his hunting buddy, Henry, was manning the store. Jason introduced us. "Henry, you remember Prachi, right?"

"Of course. I couldn't forget such a pretty face."

"And I'd like you to meet Greg and Karen. Greg and Karen, this is my friend, Henry."

Henry smiled, particularly at Beth. "And another pretty face. Nice to meet you, Karen. And you too, Greg. Shall I assume that you are nudies, too, like Jason and Prachi here?"

We both looked at Jason to follow his lead. Jason answered, "Yep. They are." He turned towards Beth and winked, "Karen, if you show Henry your tits, he'll give you a free safety whistle."

Beth went along. "I'll be happy to show him my tits, but he'll have to do better than a stupid whistle." She grinned broadly.

Henry pointed to a section of the store with new and surplus uniforms. "We have a rack of sports bras over there. How about you take your pick as long as you try them on out here where we can watch?"

"Me too?" Asked Prachi.

"Sure, why not?"

Up until that point, Henry thought he was kidding, but Prachi suddenly grabbed the hem of Beth's yellow tank top and pulled it up over her head. She then pulled her own white T-shirt off and handed both tops to me. Neither girl was wearing anything underneath. "Here. Hold these. We'll be right back." After I took the tops, Prachi pushed Beth towards the clothing aisles. Looking back over her shoulder she said to Henry, "Are you coming?"

Henry didn't have to be asked twice. He went off to attend to the girls with a shit-eating grin on his face while Jason and I grabbed a couple of shopping baskets and proceeded to fill them with camping gear and dehydrated meals.

The girls took their time messing with Henry's head by trying on dozens of different garments, pretending not to be able to make up their minds. They were still at it when I stopped in the next aisle over to pick out a shirt and some shorts for myself.

When I finished making my selections, Beth was wearing a sports bra that was printed in "digital" camouflage and a matching pair of jogging shorts, and Prachi had on a sports bra in solid black. "Those look great. Let's go." I ushered them back to the checkout counter.

They stripped off the sports bras and set them on the counter, then put their old tops back on. Beth also stripped off the jogging shorts and put it on the counter so that Henry could ring it up. She was bare-assed underneath.

"Hey, what happened to my other shorts?" Bottomless, Beth walked back to the women's wear section in search of them. "I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached," she lied. Beth never forgets anything, except on purpose.

We didn't really expect Henry to give the girls those bras for free, but he did anyway. The rest went on Jason's charge card.

"No hurry paying me back," he said when we got back to his Jeep. "I know you're good for it."

###

Later that afternoon, Jason had me down at the pond participating in lifeguard drills with two other lifeguard recruits. Hilary and Charlene were two-thirds of a set of triplets--three college girls who shared an apartment in town, twenty minutes away. Like me, they were accomplished swimmers, but new to lifeguarding. They stood 5' 5" tall, with very lean, muscular bodies. Because they were so lean, they were quite flat-chested, but it didn't seem to bother them. In fact, they were quite proud of every aspect of their bodies. "You should see our sister, Janice. She's a pro-am bodybuilder."

The drills consisted of us taking turns pretending to drown while one or both of the other two rescued the victim. At one point, while Hilary was rescuing Charlene, Jason pulled me aside. He pointed across the pond to a copse of old trees with exposed roots reaching into the water. "I'm thinking that that should be the start of one of your escape routes. We can bury one set of evac gear near that cluster of trees. With a running start, you could dive off the dock and swim across the pond in under two minutes. Once you make it to those roots, you'd be well hidden, even when you get out of the water and climb up the bank to fetch the gear. What do you think?"

"I like it. Good idea."

Jason patted me on my shoulder and blew his whistle to get the twins' attention. He yelled at the three of us, "Give me one lap across the pond, and then we'll call it a day."

###

After sunset, Beth and I got dressed again. We met Jason at his Jeep, and he drove us around to the back of the pond. By the light of a three-quarter moon, we easily found a good spot to stash half of the emergency supplies. We also identified two different paths leading up to it from the bank. From there, we would have four different options. We could follow the highway into town; we could head for the hills; or, we could double back towards the resort going around the pond, either clockwise or counterclockwise.

For the second set of gear, we decided to just stash it in the security office in the main building. Jason programmed Beth's name badge and mine to open the door. The idea was we could either lock ourselves in there, or grab the gear and dash out of the building by one of three different routes.

###

By the time Jason returned us to the bunkhouse, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, from a long day of practicing rescue maneuvers, and then trekking through the woods. As Beth and I went upstairs to undress, I said, "I can't decide if I'm more hungry or tired." I took one look at my bunk and plopped down, but Beth reminded me that it was Pizza night and made me get back up to join the gang downstairs.

Brent was on the couch reading a magazine while Yvonne and Tamara were seated side by side at the poker table behind him. Tamara's laptop was open and she and Yvonne were chatting with some friends on a 5-way Skype call. Tamara was her usual, animated self and I could just imagine how her remote friends were seeing Tamara's large boobs with their pierced nipples bounce unfettered.

Tamara looked up as we entered the room. "Greg, Karen, come meet my friends in Canada." I hesitated to be caught on camera, but Beth ran right over to stand between Tamara and Yvonne. I marveled at how Beth nonchalantly allowed the web cam to capture her naked body while conversing with a couple of strangers. She really took to this nudism, like a duck to water.

I was still standing at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell startled me. (I didn't know the bunkhouse even had a doorbell.) I turned around and opened the door to find a blonde girl in a Pizza Hut uniform holding a stack of pizza boxes. "Oh, my god, you're naked!" She said to me with fake dismay, followed by a cheeky smile.

Prachi yelled from the kitchen, "Hi, Denise. Come on in."

The delivery girl yelled back, "In a second, I've got beer and salads too, out in the car." She handed me the pizzas to hold as she turned back towards her car and retrieved two grocery sacks. Denise then followed me back to the kitchen and we set our loads down on the kitchen island. Then, to my surprise, Denise began to strip off her uniform.

"So, who's the hunk?" Denise asked Prachi.

"New lifeguard in training. He just started Friday."

"Well, he certainly has the equipment for it. Is it all in working order?"

"Yep. I took it out for a couple of test runs myself."

This was surreal. Prachi and a total stranger were talking about me and my sexual organs as if I wasn't standing right there.

The last of Denise's clothes landed on the floor in a pile. This revealed her to be a natural blonde with a soft patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair. It was accentuated with a silver belly piercing.

"Does the hunk have a name?" Denise asked.

Prachi said, "Denise, this is Greg. Greg, this is Denise."

I put out my hand and Denise took it, but rather that shaking hands, she pulled hard. This caught me off guard and I stumbled into her, but she was ready and braced for the impact. Then she embraced me and kissed me. She ran her hands down my back and squeezed my ass as she probed my mouth with her tongue. I grew hard. Between the wet kiss, the sensation of her hard nipples pressed against my chest, and her hands rubbing my butt, is it any wonder that I would?

Denise then broke away just as suddenly as she started. She took a step back, looked down at herself and said, "Oh, my god, I'm naked!" with that same cheeky smile.

"Come on, everyone! Pizza's here." Prachi yelled up the stairs and had someone walk along the hallway and knock on all of the bedroom doors. Denise served up the salad while I handed out the beers. A total of twelve people passed through the kitchen.

Beth was a little surprised to find another naked stranger standing around in the kitchen. Prachi introduced Denise to Beth (as Karen), and the two shook hands--for real that time.

With a couple of slices in me and my hunger satiated, I was then ready to kick back and take a nap, perhaps even turn in for the night. But, just then Prachi announced, "Let the games begin!"

Denise jumped up and took my hand. "Come on, probie. This is going to be fun." She led me across the floor and positioned me in font of the TV. Then, she stood next to me on my left. Prachi positioned Beth to stand next to me on my right. Everyone else besides the three of us either plopped down on the couch, or sat Indian style on the floor in front of the couch, or pulled up a chair at the poker table.

Prachi acted as a master of ceremonies. "The game is called 'Imperfections,' and the rules are quite simple. We are going to grade you bunkhouse newbies on your various imperfections and then rate you on a scale of 1 to 100. In Denise's case, even though she doesn't live here in the bunkhouse, she's been visiting here often enough that we thought it was high time she be initiated as well."

Prachi worked her way behind us one at a time, where she tied our hands behind our backs with silk scarves that Yvonne handed her. Beth and I looked at each other with a mixture of surprise, humiliation, and anticipation. I thought to myself, Fresh meat, huh?

As Prachi finished tying our wrists, she continued to explain, "The rest of us already have our imperfection scores." She nodded to Tamara, who held up her laptop to show us a spreadsheet with a list of names and numbers. "So, after we tally up your scores, we'll compare them to everybody else's scores in order to make a single list that goes in order from most perfect to least perfect. Ready? Go."

Before I knew what was happening, half the crew crowded around the three of us and started taking all kinds of measurements with calipers, protractors, stopwatches, and such. They yelled out the results for Tamara to record.

"Penis length, flaccid: 4 ¾ inches."

"Clitoris width: 0.35."

"Nipple-to-nipple spacing: 10 ½ inches."

"Genital elevation: 28 ¾ inches."

"Thigh clearance: 1 inch even."

"Girth to length ratio: 2.3."

"Chest area freckle count: 27."

This went on for several minutes. For most of the measurements, I had no idea what the significance was supposed to be. I mean, was a high freckle count good or bad? Eventually, I realized that the whole point of this silly exercise was to be sarcastic. We are all different, physically, but that doesn't make us who we are. There is no such thing as perfection for the kinds of traits they were measuring.

Of course, the other point of the exercise was the sheer thrill of making Beth, Denise, and I stand there while we got felt up by everyone else in the room. The sensations were having its toll on me.

"Penis length, erect: 7 ¼ inches."

"Angle of ascension: 24 degrees."

"Time to pre-cum moisture: 3 minutes, 12 seconds."

Apparently, that was the last of the measurements called for, because the crowd then dissipated just as suddenly as it had formed. I was left "on stage" with my hands bound behind my back, while sporting a super-hard erection. I stood between my sister and a girl I had just met. This was unreal.

Prachi, again acting in the role of master of ceremonies, asked Tamara for the results. Prachi held her hand over Denise's head and Tamara said, "Denise is 27.3 percent perfect. That places her below Alan at 27.6."

Alan, who was seated at the poker table to Tamara's right, cheered, "Woo hoo! Yeah, baby! Yeah!"

Prachi shifted over to hold her hand over my head and Tamara reported, "Greg's imperfection score is 41.0. He's just below Debbie at 41.1."

Debbie was a bookish girl with alabaster skin and contrasting jet black hair who was seated on the floor right in front of me. Her hair was styled short, with wind-swept bangs, and she maintained a matching, shiny pelt of fur between her legs. The black look continued with a pair of black and gray Converse tennis shoes (sans socks), and some round-rimmed reading glasses in gunmetal gray that were perpetually perched on the end of Debbie's button nose. Debbie tended to study the world with an intense stare across the tops of those glasses--that is, until someone looked back. Then, she would become suddenly shy.

So, just then, at the sound of her name, Debbie pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and buried her face in her knees, blushing.

Prachi moved on to indicate Beth next, and Tamara said, "This is cool. Karen's imperfection score is 39.8, which puts her right below Greg there."

"What does that mean?" Beth asked. I was as confused as she was.

Denise answered, "This is the fun part. It means that for the rest of the night, I have to do everything that Alan says, you have to do everything that Greg says, and he has to do everything that Debbie says."

It took a second for Denise's answer to register with Beth and me. Beth said, "Oh? Oh. Oh, my!"

Beth and I barely had a moment to contemplate our fates when Prachi declared, "Now the real games begin! Remember: Stow yer hangups at the door, and what happens in the bunkhouse stays in the bunkhouse."

Alan couldn't wait to claim his prize. Denise pretended to resist, so Alan and a couple of helpers picked her up and carried her, charging up the stairs as if she was a battering ram. Half the crowd followed.

That left Beth and I standing there in front of Prachi, Debbie, Clark, Tamara, Robert, Yvonne, Jim, and Steve. (Jim and Steve are two of the other lifeguards who live in the bunkhouse besides Yvonne and me.)

Prachi, knowing how shy Debbie was, took charge. "Debbie, why don't you tell Greg to tell Karen that from now on she has to do everything that Robert, Jim, Clark and Steve tell her to do directly, and not wait for Greg to say so. That way, you can have Greg's undivided attention."

Debbie smiled at the idea. Beth looked frightened, but it was the scary-fun kind of fright, as if she was about to ride a very steep roller coaster for the first time.

I didn't wait for Debbie, and went right ahead giving those instructions to Beth.

"Yes, sir. As you wish, sir." Beth resigned herself to her fate, and decided to play along and enjoy the game. I watched as the four guys picked Beth up and laid her down across the game table, face up. They untied her hands from behind her back and, using a second scarf, retied each wrist to her corresponding thigh. They then spread her legs apart and tied her ankles to two of the table legs. The guys then proceeded to deal out hands of poker on her tummy. For the first few rounds, the winner of each hand got to French kiss my sister, or suck on her boobs. As the night progressed they escalated to eating out her pussy, and more.

Back where I stood, Debbie, Tamara and Yvonne wasted no time putting their mouths to good use. Leaving my hands bound, they made me lay across the couch. Debbie knelt down and kissed me while Tamara sucked on my dick and Yvonne lathed my balls. After a few minutes, they switched places, essentially playing musical chairs to see whose mouth would be sucking on my cock when it erupted. Debbie, it turned out, was the recipient of my first load of the evening. The girls were insatiable, however, and I didn't get any rest until they made me come thrice more, and not just in their mouths.

At first, Prachi kicked back in an easy chair, content with watching the scene unfold, but then she got up and disappeared upstairs. The next time I saw her, she was the condom faerie, sprinkling condoms around like pixie dust. Then she disappeared again, only to return 10 minutes later with my camera in hand. For the rest of the night, Prachi documented the orgy in glorious 12.1-megapixel detail. I was astounded that no one seemed concerned with where those pictures might wind up. (It turns out that Prachi made me erase all of the pictures by the end of the next day, but only after everyone who participated in the orgy got to see them who wanted to.)

I must have nodded off on the couch sometime after midnight, for I found myself being shaken awake. It was Alan telling me that he left a nice present for me on my bunk. Groggily, I opened my eyes, stood up, and looked around. People were still having sex all around me. One couple was doing it on the floor next to the TV, and another was doing it on the kitchen table. Then I noticed a flash strobe going off in the bathroom. Curious, I wandered in there to see Prachi taking pictures of a couple taking advantage of the tiled bench seat in the shower area. Some girl was bent over the seat and Clark was on his knees fucking her doggie style. He held her hips tightly in his meaty hands as he pumped in and out. As I got closer, I saw that the girl had a tramp stamp tattoo, tiny in comparison to the riot of tattoos that covered both of Clark's arms, and I suddenly realized that the girl was my sister.

I couldn't take my eyes off of Beth. With every one of Clark's thrusts, her boobs would get mashed against the bench seat but then they would slip off the edge and bounce around in mid air. I was mesmerized by the sight of that, and also by the fact that Clark was wearing a day-glow pink condom. It looked funny as he slipped that bright pink sheath in and out of my sister's fleshy pink cunt. I must have laughed out loud because Beth turned her head to the side, looked up, and noticed me there. A guilty expression flashed across her face, but then she just smiled at me, and she redoubled her efforts to meet Clark's thrusts with equal desire.

Prachi took another picture, and then turned to face me.

She said, "I see you're having a good time." She smiled as she indicated the various dried fluids that clung to my body. Chagrined, I grabbed a wash cloth, and proceeded to wipe myself clean. When I was done, Prachi took my hand, and led me out of the bathroom.

Alan was just then climbing the stairs with a bottle of beer in each hand, and I suddenly remembered what he said when he woke me up. I told Prachi, "Alan left a surprise for me in my bunk."