Talent Scout Ch. 06

Ned lay comfortably in his poolside lounge on the general public side of the resort. He had wandered over to the larger but more mundane part of the expansive facility. He liked to mingle with the pedestrian crowd occasionally to test his mental stability. It was risky to dwell too much in a world of effortless sexual fulfillment. Most men had to work hard to get laid and he needed to be conscious of that condition.

The guests here were families, couples, and others unaware of, nor could they imagine, the secluded exclusive area on the other side of the boundary that accommodated solitary alpha males escaping, even so temporarily, the rigors of their elite business stresses.

His head was slightly propped and, from behind his sunglasses, his eyes scanned the many ordinary resort guests taking a break here on the tropical island, far away from the busy world. They may be escaping their own business, or foul weather, or just the daily strains of modern life.

But the guests gathered at the public pool were still an eclectic bunch. There were several middle-aged men accompanied by their 'nieces', all of whom were young, well-built specimens of feminine eye-candy. The well-built characteristic was very obvious from the skimpy thong bikinis each wore, seemingly to compete with their man-bait contenders.

Others were obviously married couples, enjoying a week away. Pale skins and chubby were the common theme. And one pair of women was a mother-daughter troupe, the elder of whom Ned had chanced upon the day before and struck up a conversation.

It seemed she had taken her college-aged offspring on this holiday to illuminate by example the difference between her lazy college chum rebels vis-a-vis affluent partners that high-class society could make available to a girl who really cared about her future standard of living.

Ned focused his gaze on the young lady. She was less than attentive to her looks by the lack of cosmetics, unruly hairstyle, and billowy workman's shirt and cutoff jeans. But he could see beneath the dowdy duds her potential in form and vitality and he envisioned helping the mother make her point in a very potent way.

This evening was the weekly formal dinner, a chance for a select few to shine in their best elegance. He had taken the mother aside earlier and proposed that he escort her and her daughter to the invitation-only soiree. Mrs Connors was eager for her daughter to make the most of this opportunity to engage with such a fine gentleman, just the sort she wanted her daughter to meet.

But instead of Ned coming for her, she offered to get her daughter ready and present her at dinner to the fine gentleman that had taken such a gallant interest in her daughter's enlightenment.

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Clarissa Connors was pissed and her angry scowl showed it. She stood before the closed dining room double doors as the security dudes in tuxedos checked her mother's invitation. Satisfied of its authenticity, they opened the grand entrance to allow the finely dressed ladies access to the exclusive soiree.

Clarissa felt her mother's hand push against her bare back and she stepped forward, then stopped, stunned at the visage inside. A knot of anxiety hit the pit of her stomach.

There were dozens of couples gathered in small groups, conversing and laughing in gay jubilee. Now Clarissa was less miffed at her mother, grudgingly thankful for her parent's excessive mothering today.

It had been a running feud since early afternoon. First the news of the exclusive invitation. Then shopping at the resort boutique for the elegant, almost scandalous, dress and stiletto heels she was now wearing. A trip to the salon for hair and makeup. Mother really enjoyed these shopping bonanzas, splurging opulently with her ex-husband's court-ordered bountiful alimony. She even found the perfect set of jewelry to really make her point with Mr Jackson. The shop clerk knew the secret of its workings and wrapped Clarissa's neck and wrists with the expensive contraptions.

Back in the room, more arguments about the over-attention to the most minor details. But one detail the young woman truly resented and still did.

Clarissa had endured a lifetime of emergent tension. As a youngster, she had willingly, even eagerly, followed her mother's plans for her: Girl Scouts, Little Miss beauty pageants, sports, and academics. Then, teenage rebellion reared its ugly head. Late nights, lowbrow friends, a non-STEM college matriculation. Her mother became increasingly distressed as she watched her precocious youngster's prospects steadily disintegrate.

Now, pseudo kidnapped by her mother to this resort and now this evening event, Clarissa lifted her head, set her jaw, and steeled her nerves. She was entering the lair of those she had been told to loathe.

She and her friends spent hours at their liberal arts college campus disparaging the elite shallow fashionistas who venerated greed, profits, wealth, and affluence. Those callous cretins looked down on the less fortunate ones, like she and her campus friends, and didn't understand the social ills that the wealthy elite caused in the world: inequality, inequity, and, above all, social status based only on their marketable skills and accumulated money.

Thank goodness for social warriors like themselves who raged against the machine and sat around complaining, without any perceivably effective corrective actions to make the critical revolutionary changes.

But now, the social graces developed during her growing years, the competitive sports, the public service activities, and the graceful beauty competitions, kicked in and she was sure she could survive this evening's gauntlet. It would be unseemly to make a scene without her vociferous if ineffective friends here to provide cover and backup.

She stepped forward into the scattered crowd which silenced at the sight of her presentation. She was careful with her balance in the fashionable stilettos; the beauty pageant high-heeled strides had been long ago and she hadn't practiced much since then. She made her way through the clustered people. They nodded polite hellos and she returned the salutations in kind.

Ned was seated at his dinner table, sipping on a cocktail, nursing the alcohol, safeguarding the verve he would need during his date's later enlightenment. There was a low buzz of background conversations which he barely noticed. But he became aware of the change when the noise faded away.

His attention was perked as all eyes looked in one direction across the room. He looked that way and spied the mother walking towards him across the room. What he also noticed, as had every other man in the room, was the exquisite lady striding beside her.

Ned hardly recognized the now dazzling daughter. Gone were the loose unkempt hair, the unadorned face, and the body hiding frumpy clothes. In their stead was a sexy red sequined gown, her fine leg flashing through the waist-high slit with each step. The long skirt hung from the torso tucking band clinched tight across her middle: a wide smooth expanse of satin from hip bone to just beneath her bodice. The strapless bandeau style top stretched tight across the lower two-thirds of her globes of tit flesh, boosting the mammary mound pair into a high billowy cleavage.

The leg flashes had drawn Ned's eyes first to the fine-figured body of the sexy young coed. As his vision moved higher, he saw the slim neck circled by a braided gold chain choker, mounting an ivory and onyx medallion at her throat. Aside that were dangling gold earrings, swaying and skittering the reflected ballroom lights.

Her lips were painted fire engine red, glossy with layered thickness. Her high cheekbones, sporting a rosy blush, underlying the dark mascara-tinted eyelashes and eyebrows arching above blue-green eyes.

Her hair was no longer unkempt and fly-away. The dark tresses were pulled back to a scalp-molding skull cap, captured behind in a golden clinch that anchored the ponytail hanging low on her back in a rendition of a runway model or ballerina.

Gentlemanly Ned rose slowly to his feet to greet his evening's arranged date. He had to; his cock was swelling and needed adjustment in its awkward confining space in his pants fly. A quick flick at his tuxedo crotch loosened the fabrics enough to gain a bit of space. If his arousal continued, he would need more space, much more space, before this public gathering ended and he could find privacy for continued admiration of his matron-furnished companion.

The mother-daughter couple slowed and halted at arm's distance. The mother had a slight smirk as she perceived Ned's focused stare.

"Mr. Jackson, may I introduce Clarissa, my daughter."

The young lady extended her hand in greeting and Ned took it like a gallant gentleman, kissing the back of her hand.

He held the slender appendage for a long moment and noted the gold bracelet on her wrist, a finely braided band with an inset ring, a match to the style of her choker, also with its small inset ring, subtle decorative nods to what might in a different situation be sturdier fabricated collar and cuff restraints.

Looking down, he saw her gold-toned high strappy heels, also with the inferred attachment ring embedded in the red jeweled clasps.

The maiden may not have noticed or would have understood the meaning of her suggestive accouterments but Ned took them as the mother's insinuation of his freedom in means and methods towards transforming the wayward college coed's path in life, with or without her cooperation.

Her eyes caught his, and he returned the steady gaze.

"Pleased to meet you, too, Mr Jackson. I hope your stay at the resort has been pleasant."

"It's going well and perhaps getting even better. Please, sit, let's enjoy our dinner."

The daughter sat next to Ned at the circular table; her mother at an angle across, two-thirds around. The showy dress slit lay open over her bare thigh on Ned's side of her. He glanced briefly at the exposure. She was conscious of his view and, unable to do much about the dress's intended display of her leg, she still carefully adjusted the skirt, ensuring her center was covered.

At first, she was a bit reserved with the middle-aged gentleman that mght be her long-absent father's age. But as the evening ran on, she scanned the other tables of well-dressed couples and was thankful her mother had been insistent about the glamorous accouterments and, although she thought it too risqué, her evening gown. She seemed to fit in.

When she was looking away, scanning the room, only Ned spotted the mother, with a conspiratorial wink, drop a clear powder into her daughter's water goblet; the act unnoticed by the young lady looking elsewhere. As the gourmet food and drinks were served and consumed, Clarissa felt her mood lighten and she was chirpier in her speech and manners.

Ned engaged her in adult-worthy conversation, truly interested in her life, non-judgmental to her views and opinions, keeping the information flow going. It was part of his agenda, seeking triggers and faults that might turn her away from his intended path.

But she took his probing as a mature man interested in her as a person, not dismissing her as a young ill-informed waif.

Soon the lights dimmed and music filled the air. Ned didn't ask her permission; he simply took her hand and she followed him passively as he led her to the central wooden parquet open space.

He pulled her close for a slow dance, hugging her soft tits to him. His other hand pressed her hips to his and his chest and cock enjoyed the warm compression.

It was his first touch of her other than the hand holds. He liked the bodily contact and she seemed to accept his clutch. She didn't tense up at all but melded her body closer, circling her arms around his neck, holding him closer.

They moved together, the small shuffles rippling her tits and belly against his body in the body-hugging embrace. His swelling cock was finding even the expanded space insufficient. It wanted to move things along.

He lay his trim bearded jaw against her cheek. Her hair smelled of perfumed shampoo, a floral-citrus air. He was finding her even more attractive as a total person than just the sex object of his earlier first impression.

Clarissa was feeling light-headed. She didn't know why she was unexpectedly fascinated by this mature man. She hadn't imbibed much wine, really only a few sips, preferring a healthier water diet. He apparently was drawn to her; she felt his thickening bulge against her groin as she drooped languidly in his arms.

His cheek was against hers when she heard the whispered bawdy words of his proposition.

"Let's go to my room, Ms Connors. I want to see you, all of you, in naked splendor. I will kiss your lips, lap your nipples, taste your tangy cunt, and make you feel all the sensuality an experienced man can instill in you.

"And if you're really good, I'll let you suck my cock before I use it to fuck you to a mind-shattering orgasm."

Even Clarissa, with her foggy senses, was surprised by her deflecting segway.

"But we haven't had dessert."

"We will make each other our desserts. What do you say?"

His suggestion was all she wanted in this strange mood and at this moment. She somehow had become enamored by this mature, assertive man. How could she have succumbed so quickly?

"Yeeessss..." she murmured.

He accepted her acceptance, stepping back, holding her hand, crossing her far arm across her waist while his other hand rested on her round ass. Her free arm lay loose across his shoulder, her bandeau-encased boob brushed his arm, stimulating her nipple. A sensual shudder vibrated her spine. She would follow him anywhere in this mood.

He glanced over to his table where Clarissa's drug-dosing mother was watching intensely; she met his look. She smiled, made a petite clapping signal, and then gave a backhanded 'shooing' wave, urging him to enact her plan to show her potentially wayward child a path to a more beneficial future.

Ned turned back to his task at hand. Conscious of Clarissa's unsteady balance, he took middling steps but long enough to force the erotic leg-flashes through her slit skirt. He strode with purpose, promenading her at his side toward the exit, her lovely leg and bare side hip flashing as intended with each step. The obliging crowd parted as the departing couple made their way. The men watched, some with an arm candy 'niece' tucked against their sides, nodding at Ned and smirking in envious congratulations at his rapid seduction of the remarkably sexy maiden.

Those neice arm candies looked on with different attitudes. This was the non-fashion unkempt college girl that had roamed the halls and pool deck, no competition at all. Now, here she was, claiming the manliest man at the resort with her flirtatious presence. They had spent days, and nights, working their patrons for favors and acknowledgments.

And later tonight, they would worry as their sponsor's affluent cock drilled their gold-digging pussies. Was he thinking of them, or was he fantasizing that the juicy cunt he was fucking was the glamorous Clarissa's? All their lead-up time and efforts wasted; it just wasn't fair!

Clarissa was floating along beside Mr Jackson, her eyes glazed, looking ahead, heedless of the staring crowd. Her mind was rambling through bizarre sexual shenanigans, ideas formed from his whispered promises.

She was impatient to get to his room and play them out. Her pussy felt warm and sticky.

She recalled the panty dispute with her mother. The older woman insisted she not wear panties. The dress slit was waist high and most of her side hip was exposed with each step. Even a high-cut thong couldn't be totally hidden. Clarissa finally succumbed to her mother's nagging and chanced the exposure embarrassment. This one time, unknown to her friends, she would parity those empty-headed fashionistas that now surrounded her and parted before her, and then she could be gone from her mother's helicopter parenting.

She had been extra careful on her entrance into the crowd of resort guests to monitor her pace, shielding her shaved pussy beneath the wavering skirt panel. She had been even more conscious when settling into her seat next to the newly introduced gentleman. The dress slit opened to his side and draped her bare thigh such that it was exposed almost to her waist. The center covered her nether area but only just if she was careful not to wiggle around too much.

She wondered if he could smell her oozing vaginal musk. But then, she decided, she didn't care anymore. She actually hoped he did and found the odor enticing. She was so ready to be fucked by this man.

At the security-monitored exit doors, she leaned right, the way back to the guest resident wing. But Ned held her back, turning left instead to some other nearby doors.

The security guard hustled to the alternate portal, quickly opening it for the well-known VIP patron.

"Good evening, Mr Jackson."

"Good evening, Percy. Thank you."

Percy quickly scanned the beauty up and down and felt familiar enough to be inquisitive.

"Is this business or pleasure tonight?"

Ned looked at his swooning accompaniment who perked up a little at the question. He whispered in her ear loud enough for Percy to hear.

"Both, I hope."

"Very good, sir. Especially the business part. We'll all be interested in the outcome. Please enjoy your evening, sir."

"I intend to" he murmured as he passed through the closing portal.

The security man watched the retiring couple with interest. He was one of a few bellhops who had been singled out for advanced security training and special duties. Even so, he retained the privileges of a full-level bellhop, including a once-weekly night with a select recreational staffer. His turn was tomorrow night and he would probably be thinking of Clarissa while fucking his weekly one-night date.

The soiree couple arrived after a short walk to the gentleman's suite. He guided her inside and, steadying her by her shoulders, turned her to face him. He stepped back and left her standing there, watching him intently as he removed his clothes, a man's rendition of a foreplay strip tease: the jacket, the bowtie, the shirt, the shoes, the pants.

She saw his naked rugged body: strong, muscled, and tanned, a scattering of dark body hair. He was tall, a head higher than her, but near equal height in her heels. She had noted as much when they danced, the perfect height difference between a man and a woman.

Finally, dramatically, he slowly lowered his boxers. Clarissa's eyes popped wide and quickly squinted at her first visual of his semi-tumescent cock. She had felt the hard bulge during their close dance but hadn't realized its substantial size.

Ned noticed that look of wonder and his ego warmed to her reaction. Lots of women were at first apprehensive but eventually delighted to get intimately acquainted with his large penile package.

He stepped to her, kissed her lips lightly, then moved behind her and fiddled with the dress clasp. That eased ever so slightly the bandeau elastic straining across her boobs but lowering the zipper loosened the dress so that her breasts were relieved of their clenched cleavage boost. The supporting fabrics fell away as the zipper opened down her back to the top of her ass crack. Ned discovered thereby that panties had not been worn. Risky and gutsy; not the act of a shrinking wallflower.

He pressed the dress over her hips and it fell to her feet. Save for heels and jewelry, his date was now as naked as he. His hands came to her shoulders and he turned her again to face him.

Her boobs were simply fantastic; full round orbs capped with dark rosy nipples with perfect spacing between the pair, hanging wider than in the compacted dress cleavage but close enough for whimsical cock cuddling activities. His hands descended from shoulders to boobs: cupping, testing, a thumb pad circling the dark disc. The nubs weren't hard yet but he saw, and felt, the orbital pips swelling in their own way.