Kyle and Kelly go on Vacation - Part 1

DISCLAIMER

This story is a work of fiction. The persons appearing herein are entirely fictional and any resemblances to real persons, be they living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

© Sten Dürer 2017

Good day, dear readers, my name is Kyle and I am your narrator for today. Before we go any further, here is your one trigger warning: this story includes sexual content, lots of it, and in explicit detail. And past a certain point, it gets really fucking weird. With that being said, welcome to my story. You clicked it because of the title, didn't you? It's really long, I know, but I feel like I had to cram all that up there in order to do it justice.

I want to explain how I put all of this together and turned it into one coherent story, because I am a huge nerd and I love to over-explain things. You see, I was either not present for some of these events, or I straight up can't remember any details. I write a lot about what goes on in my life, mostly just for myself. So the majority of the story is taken from my travel journals. The rest I reconstructed from the many pictures we took, as well as from Kelly's journal. She started writing one after she saw me writing mine, and she was kind enough to let me borrow it. A lot of it was more cliff notes than prose, but it still goes into explicit detail on several occasions and includes many of her intimate thoughts. My journal is the opposite: I censored myself in some parts, while in others I went off on tangents like a motherfucker.

Alright, enough with the boring explanations. Time we get this show on the road. Things began to kick off in earnest in January 2013, the night after I turned eighteen...

Never Fry Bacon Naked

January 2013

My sister Kelly is only one year my senior, so she would have been nineteen at the time. Growing up, we were always good friends and shared many common interests. Metal concerts were one of our favorites, so you can imagine how excited I was when Kelly revealed her birthday present to me: two tickets to see my favorite band, Rupture, in Houston. I am not going to elaborate on how the show went, because honestly that is not the point of this story, but suffice it to say that we came home deaf, bruised and happy.

The next morning, it was understandably difficult to get up. I was exhausted, everything hurt, my ears were still faintly ringing, and my throat hurt. But I was hungry, so I heaved myself out of bed and made my way downstairs to fix make something for breakfast. Since Kelly had gone to great lengths to make my birthday a success, bringing her something to eat was the least I could do.

As I walked past the living room, I heard quiet voices and giggling.

“They're probably still asleep.” That was Dad.

“No, I heard someone come down the stairs,” Mom's voice responded. I took a few steps back and poked my head through the doorway to find them snuggling on the chaise longue. Dad was prone, his upper body resting on Mom's stomach, his frame almost completely obscuring her from view. Dad is neither fat nor very muscular, but he has a large chest. Together with his thick brown beard, deep voice and loud laugh, it gives him the appearance of a young Santa Claus. Both of them were completely naked, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Our parents liked to be naked, both at home and at the beach. They had taken Kelly and me along to nudist beaches in Florida a few times, and we both liked it, but at home my sister and I usually wore clothes.

“Look who's up!” Mom said when she noticed me.

“Good morning,” I replied in a hoarse voice.

“How was the concert last night?”

“It was fun.”

“I can tell,” Dad said, laughing. “You look destroyed.”

“I know, I know.” I laughed and continued on to the kitchen to cook up some breakfast.

“Smells good,” Mom commented. Still barefoot and naked except for her glasses, she had managed to sneak up on me and was now standing right next to me with a fork already in her hand. “Mind if I have a piece?”

“Sure, go for it.”

“Thanks...ah, fuck!” Just as she reached over to spear a piece of bacon, it popped, hitting her in the stomach with a splatter of hot grease. “Guess this is why you should never fry bacon naked.”

She wiped the grease off with a paper towel and retreated from the kitchen. Once I got done scrambling the eggs, I loaded everything on a tray and made my way to Kelly's room. Along the way, I stopped in the living room to drop off a plate with two strips of bacon.

“One for you, one for Dad.”

“We love you too, son!” Mom responded with a wide grin. She had returned to her spot on the chaise longue, her fingers caressing Dad's head as it rested between her breasts. Now that I got a closer look, I noticed the beach towel spread out underneath them.

When I got to Kelly's door, I knocked to announce myself. As expected, she was still asleep, so it took a second for her to open the door. When she did, I had to laugh a little.

“What's so funny?” she inquired.

“You look like shit,” I answered truthfully. Kelly was still wearing the same t-shirt as the night before, her short red hair was a mess, and I could still see streaks of black eyeliner she had missed before going to bed.

“Thank you, you are quite dashing yourself. What's this?”

“I made breakfast.”

“Aw thanks, man.” She accepted her plate with a smile. “Come in, let's eat.”

After we were done eating, we sat together in silence, but it was not an awkward silence. Being introverted people, we both enjoy quiet moments and will gladly forego any talking until we have something to say. Right then and there, I had something to say.

“I gotta ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“When you walk around naked at home, do you carry a towel around?”

“What?” The look on her face made it obvious my question sounded exactly as bizarre out loud as it did in my head. Maybe rephrasing it would help.

“When you hang around the house naked, just chilling, do you keep a towel to sit down on?”

Kelly sat up and stared off into the distance.

“Well, I don't really hang out naked at home. At a nude beach, or at a sauna, yeah I would sit on a towel. But here, I don't think I'd care. Why?”

“I ran into Mom and Dad downstairs. They're chilling on the couch naked, and Mom is laying on a towel. Or at least they looked like they were just chilling when I walked by.”

“I see what you're saying. It makes sense they'd have a towel.” The confused look on Kelly's face turned into a sly smile.

“When I came down the stairs, I heard them talking. They thought we were still asleep. Guess they like to live dangerously,” I remarked, surprising myself. I usually never talk to anybody about my parents having sex, but I figure it was too early for me to turn my filter on. My sister on the other hand never had a filter in the first place.

“I think it's cute,” she said.

“Why?”

“I dunno, there is just something about them. If it was some other forty-something married couple, I would prefer it if they took it somewhere else, but when I see Mom and Dad on the couch making out like a bunch of teenagers, it just makes me think 'Oh my God, this is adorable!'.”

“Like how Mom squeaks just like you when Dad tickles her?”

Kelly got up with one outstretched arm as if to slap me, but then sat down and shot me the most “Fuck you” smile you can imagine.

“Yes, that's exactly what I mean.”

I spent the rest of that morning doing jack shit, and I would have been perfectly happy if that had been my entire day. Sometime in the afternoon, a text message from Judy put an end to that.

“We gonna skype or what?”

Before I go any further I need to introduce some people real quick. Judith Santiago, or just Judy, is one of my best friends. Kelly and I first met her and her twin brother Manuel when I was around eleven and they were both thirteen years old. Their parents, Alvaro and Luz, had been friends with our parents for a few years by then, and over the years since, my sister and I grew very close with Judy and Manu. Unfortunately they lived all the way up in Amarillo, while we lived = a good nine hours away in Santa Fe, so our opportunities to hang out were restricted to video chats.

I called Kelly over to my room and a few minutes later, we were sitting at my desk looking at a slightly grainy feed of Judy waving at us.

“So I heard you two had fun last night?” Judy asked. She had that smile on her face that makes it looks like she is up to some mischief, but really she is just happy to see you. It's hard to describe, but I really like it.

“Oh hell yeah. Best birthday present ever.”

“I have never seen Dead Horse live, what's it like?”

“We didn't go see Dead Horse. We went to see Rupture.”

“Huh? I thought you were...” Judy paused for a second. “Well shit, looks like I'm wearing the wrong shirt then.” The shirt in question was a vintage piece from back in the nineties. Frequent washing had turned it more dark gray than black, and the horse skull and crossbones had faded to be almost unintelligible. Even if the print were more visible, it would have been stretched right to hell over Judy's formidable rack.

“Yeah, you're at the wrong show, girl!” Kelly laughed.

In the background, a male figure clad in basketball shorts and a towel around his head walked into frame and sat down behind Judy on the edge of her bed.

“I knew I heard you talking to somebody. Thanks for inviting me, fool.” Manu said while continuing to dry his hair.

“Oh hi there, can I help you?” Judy asked, looking back at her brother. “Maybe with some clothes, for starters?”

“Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see the sign that says 'No shirt, no shoes, no Skype calls'!”

“Don't worry about it man, you're fine,” I interjected.

“Emphasis on fine,” Kelly added. Manu laughed. He didn't know that Kelly once confessed to me hat she had a serious crush on him. Four or five years had gone by since then, and though that was the only time we talked about it, I could tell by the way she looked at him that those feelings were still there.

“Thanks, but it's actually kinda cold in here so I'm gonna put a shirt on real quick.”

Once Manu returned and we got him and Judy caught up on our adventures of the night before, the conversation began to meander off into a myriad of unrelated topics. School, work, movies, plans for the new year, all the things we usually talk about. I don't remember any of it, so it could not have been all that interesting, up until Judy interrupted our trains of thought.

“Hold on, I just thought of something. He is eighteen now, right?” she asked, looking at Manu, but pointing at me.

“Yes, as of last night.”

“I could have told you that, thank you.” I did not like being talked over.

“Sorry bud. I just realized that you could come to the resort with us now that you're old enough.”

“The resort?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Indulgence II. Look it up,” Judy answered.

“Indulgence II is in Jamaica,” Manu quickly retorted. “We stayed at the Bajacu. Which is in the Dominican Republic. Which is a different country.”

“Would that be the one where our mom and dad went horse-riding on the beach?” Kelly asked.

“Sounds about right,” Judy said. “Our parents wouldn't have been there for that part, Mama is terrified of horses.”

Now I knew what she meant. Mom kept a framed picture of herself on a horse in the kitchen. She had shared glowing memories of that trip, which must have been way back in 2009. Like Judy, our parents too referred to the place simply as “ the resort”.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. So why would I have to be eighteen to go there? What kind of resort is this?”

"Has something to do with the overall theme of the resort. For adults who want to take time off, without their kids. Or anyone's kids. Part of the business model, I guess," Manu explained

“What business model? What do you do there?” I was intrigued.

“Almost every part of it is clothing optional, so it's popular with the nudist crowd. They go there to swim naked, tan naked, play checkers naked. You know, nudist things.”

“That doesn't sound so bad.”

“Yeah, Manu is really under-selling it right now. That place is fucking awesome,” Judy jumped back in.

“So, what you are saying is, I get to see BOTH of you naked?” Kelly was all ears.

“Exactly,” Manu laughed. “Just remember that you will see everybody else naked, and you would be naked too. If you're okay with that. In fact, have you ever been to a nudist spot?”

We confirmed and quickly told them about our trips to nudist beaches in Florida.

“Alright, so you'll be fine,” Manu concluded.

“Why do you keep talking about it like it's a job interview?” Judy laughed. “Talking about the business model and shit, and 'oh you'll be fine'.”

“Have you been there?” Kelly asked.

“Yes, back in 2011.”

“What was the name of the place again?”

“I was gonna go with Indulgence, but...” Judy looked at Manu

“I'm telling you, it's the Bajacu,” Manu said, with confidence. “Zero mentions on Yelp, though. You'll have to ask your parents.”

“Should we? Kind of blunt, don't you think?” Kelly had second thoughts.

“How?”

“I mean, a resort in the Dominican Republic a lot to ask for. It's not like a little camping trip up state.”

“Do you want to go or not?” Judy asked in response.

“Fine, I'll do it,” I offered. “If you're gonna be a wuss about it.”

I made good on my promise over supper that same night.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Are you and Mom ever going to go back to that resort in the Dominican Republic?”

“How do you know about the resort?” Dad looked legitimately surprised, so much so that he put his silverware down. I was not going to let on that Judy and Manu talked us into it in any way, so I had to word my response carefully.

“You showed us the pictures of the horses on the beach. From, uh, two years ago.”

“We did show them those,” Mom said.

“True that.” Dad resumed eating his lasagna. “But how did you know we're going back?”

“We didn't. Not until you just said so.” Kelly had chosen to weigh in on the conversation.

“My bottom line is: could we come with you?” I had no plans of beating around the bush, so I decided to cut the bush down. Now I had both Mom and Dad staring at me, silently, for what could have been no more than two seconds but felt like two hours. Finally, Dad washed down his food with a swig of beer and answered my question with another question.

“Why?”

Well shit. I was not prepared for that. Fortunately Kelly jumped in.

“We just want to go on vacation with you again. Remember when we went to Florida? That was a great time. I for one would like to go on a trip like that again.”

“That was great vacation.” Dad nodded in agreement. “But those beaches in Florida and the resort, they're, uh...not the same thing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, playing dumb.

“You see, the beaches we went to in Florida, they were clothing-optional, but they were also family-oriented. The resort in the Dominican Republic, it's only for adults, so we couldn't have taken you there anyway.”

“But I can go there now, right?” I responded.

“Yes, you can, but I'm just trying to put this into perspective.” He took another bite of lasagna. “Look at it this way: if the beach in Florida was like Queen, this resort is more like Judas Priest.”

“And Indulgence II is straight up Steel Panther,” Mom quipped.

“What's Indulgence II?” Kelly asked, also faking ignorance.

“Y'all don't need to know about that.” Mom laughed. Dad went on.

“Alright, here is my bottom line: do I want to go on vacation to the Dominican Republic with my whole family? Yes. Is that a fiscally responsible thing to do? That's something Rhea and I will have to talk about.” Mom nodded in agreement. Rhea is her first name, by the way.

“So you're gonna consider it?” Kelly asked, giving our parents the low-key puppy dog eyes.

“Yes.”

That was the end of that discussion, at least for the time being.

That same night, I went on Yelp to look up the places our friends and parents were talking about. I found nothing in the Dominican Republic called Bajacu, even after texting Manu for the proper spelling. Simply looking for clothing-optional resorts in the Caribbean yielded a surprising number of results, but still no Bajacu. Indulgence II, what ever that was supposed to be, was also absent. So I took to TripAdvisor, searched for Bajacu, and still got nothing. But what do you know, I did find an entry for Indulgence II, and it came with lots and lots of pictures. Judging by those pictures, Indulgence II offers everything you could want at a tropical resort: bars, restaurants, sandy beaches, bars on the beach, swimming pools, bars in the pool, fancy rooms, pool and darts, and of course, pool tables in the pool. What I couldn't find in any of those pictures were guests. Without people, every space, indoors or outdoors, looked empty and somewhat sterile, like a new car at the dealership. I didn't look into it any further, because Kelly and I weren't asking to go to to Indulgence II, we were asking to go to the Bajacu. And as long as the Bajacu looked even a little bit like those photos on TripAdvisor, I was satisfied.

The following week, Dad called Kelly and me to the living room. Or he texted for us to come to him, because technology has made us lazy as fuck. When we got there, he was sitting on the couch with his tablet on the coffee table in front of him. Kelly and I sat down to his left and right.

“Your mom and I talked about this trip,” he said, as he unlocked the screen on his tablet, “and we came to an agreement: you are coming with us in July, but it is going to be your birthday AND Christmas present. For both of you.”

“That's fair,” Kelly nodded.

“Now I just need you two to fill in some of your personal information.”

So we put in our phone numbers and email addresses in the appropriate fields and Dad confirmed the order. Mom came up from behind and leaned over the couch to talk to us.

“There is one more condition Jonah and I came up with: there will be no posts about this on social media. Especially no pictures.”

“Why not? We're just going on vacation,” I asked.

“That is how we see,” Dad explained, “but people at your job, my job, your mom's job, they don't know that we go to nude beaches and such. And they don't need to know.”

That made sense. Kelly and I promised we would keep the whole thing on the down-low.

When I returned to my room, I noticed I had received an email from the resort we were going to. I must have opened it up briefly to organize my inbox, but I never really read it. All I really gathered from it was the name of the resort: Feronia. I messaged Judy and Manu to call both of them a dumb-ass for not remembering the name of the place they themselves had been to, but otherwise I did nothing with this new information. This may seem like trivial and superfluous details, and really that is how I felt about it at first, too. It turns out, I should have actually read the damn thing. It will come back around later, believe me.

February 2013

Kelly and I did a pretty good job of keeping it on the down-low. Not that it was really that difficult anyway. At the time, I was working an entry-level job at a library for minimum wage, so my absence was not exactly going to bring daily operations to a grinding halt. I told my boss I was going on vacation with my family, and that was that. My friends at school didn't ask many questions either. People these days are to wrapped up in their own bullshit to care much about what you are doing when you are not around them. I would tell them that I would be off to the Dominican Republic for a week, and their response would amount to “Sounds cool. Have fun!” before going back to telling me about the time they totally ran into that player from the Houston Rockets in line at Dairy Queen.

Was the above paragraph important to the story? No, it was absolutely pointless. But this is my story, and if I want to write about people being self-absorbed, I will do that, and you will like it.

June 2013

Having been to nude beaches in Florida several times, my sister and I had a rough idea of how to prepare for a trip to the Caribbean. One thing people tend to overlook when going to nudist spots is that you have to dress to the weather, even when you plan on being naked most of the time. Meaning, we would have to pack clothes appropriate for a tropical climate. To this end, we drove out to the mall in League City and went shopping for summer clothes and swimwear. For the latter, we had to split up, because while I found some good shorts at our store of choice, Kelly found their bikinis to be “fugly”, or “fuck-ugly” in normal English. Maybe you already knew what that word meant, but I sure didn't.

It didn't take her long to find an alternative; I had barely pulled the curtain to my change room shut when she shot me a message. Still holding my first selection of clothes in one hand, I used the other hand to flip my phone's cover open and awkwardly draw the unlock pattern. Instead of a text, Kelly had sent me a photo of herself posing in a white summer dress. Or rather her reflection in a mirror. One hand held her phone, the other pulled down the brim of a wide hat to the point that it obscured her eyes. I expressed my approval with a little thumbs up emoji and went to trying on clothes. I felt my pasty white ass looked particularly sharp in a green pair of bermudas, so I took a selfie and sent it to Kelly for appraisal. I barely had to wait for a response.

"Gun show LOL." I go to the gym maybe twice a week, three times if I'm feeling motivated. Thanks to our mom's genes, I have low body fat, which makes me look more built than I really am.

"What you got, huh?" I responded. I tried some button-down shirts for size and left the stall to put back all the stuff I didn't want. I was standing by the hats, examining a white Panama hat, when I got another text from Kelly. This one was a picture of her posing in a bikini, flexing the biceps of her free arm. Much like me, Kelly is naturally skinny. She has been on the swim team of almost every school she has ever attended, so her curves are not as pronounced as those of the average woman. The bikini of her choice was relatively plain in color and fit her well. I was about to give my approval, when I noticed a little detail.

"You're supposed to wear panties when trying on swimsuits, you know that."

Her response was a single word: "Thong."

I was going to take her word for it, but she immediately followed it up with another picture. This one only showed her hips and midsection in the mirror. One hand held her phone, the other pulled down the bikini's bottoms to give me a good look at the tiniest blue thong I ever done seen on a woman. This picture captured my attention much longer than it should have. I followed the string going from her hip to the small triangle on her mound, the sheer fabric betraying the outlines of her pubic hair, some of it peeking out the sides. It must have taken thirty seconds for me to realize that I was standing in front of a rack of hats like an idiot, staring at a photo of my sister's crotch. I responded with "Okay then", grabbed the Panama hat and went back to trying on clothes.

On the ride home I was glad that Kelly was driving, because no matter how hard I tried to think normal things, my mind would drift away to that small blue triangle. To that patch of red hair pressed down against her pale skin. It's not like I had never seen her pubes before, quite the contrary. I saw her naked at the nudist beach in Florida. And at home we shared a bathroom. If one of us caught the other taking a shower, nobody cared. My point is, the sight of Kelly's body was not new to me. But for her to present herself to me like that, for something to deliberately draw attention to her femininity, I can't remember that happening before that day. At least Kelly didn't suspect anything; we are both introverted people, so it wasn't unusual that we didn't talk much in the car.

It wasn't until we got home and unloaded our stuff that Kelly broke the silence.

“By the way, I googled Feronia. Apparently there are a bunch of companies with that name, and because I don't have your kind of patience I didn't even try figuring out which one was the resort. I did look at the Wikipedia page for Feronia though.”

“Feronia has its own Wikipedia entry?” Shit, and I had restricted myself to looking on Yelp.

“Not the resort, no. The name Feronia comes from a Roman goddess. Of fertility and freedom and flowers and shit." She put the car keys on the hook as we walked inside. “Indulgence II has its own Wikipedia page, by the way. But it's, what, maybe a paragraph long.”

This gave me an idea.

“Have you ever noticed that Mom and Dad and Manu and Judy only ever mentioned Indulgence II? The number II makes it sound like a movie sequel. What about Indulgence I? Is that not a thing, or just not interesting enough to mention? How may Indulgence resorts are there?”

“Maybe it's like the Star Wars movies,” Kelly mused, “and the first one was trash.”

“Indulgence IV: The Empire Strikes Back.”

We cracked up laughing. I dropped my new stuff off in my room and got out my phone. My fingers were about to type “Indulgence III” into Google when I stopped myself. I still had studying to do, and I knew for a fact that the instant I started researching some resort in the Caribbean, I would get sidetracked for at least an hour or two. Instead, I set a reminder on my phone that read “GOOGLE INDULGENCE RESORTS”. I must have suffered a minor brain fart right then and there, because instead of reminding me the next day, I set it to remind me the next month. This will become relevant later on, trust me.

Sten's Notes:

The metal band Rupture referred to in this story is entirely fictional. It is not meant to bear any resemblance to any real bands, active or disbanded.
The Santa Fe in this story is a small town in southern Texas, not to be confused with the capital of New Mexico.

Dead Horse are a metal band from Houston, Texas.

Steel Panther are a glam metal band from California. They are known for their humorous and sexually explicit lyrics.
Indulgence II is a fictional stand-in for Hedonism II, an adults-only resort in Jamaica. For some reason, there never was a Hedonism I.

Bajacu is word in the Taino language that means “dawn” or “morning light”.

When Kelly describes Feronia as a goddess of "fertility and freedom and flowers and shit", she is not too far off. Feronia was the name of a minor Roman deity associated with wildlife, fertility, health, abundance, and liberation.