Kyle and Kelly go to Feronia Pt. 01

This is the first part to my story "Kyle and Kelly's most excellent, clothing-optional, morally challenged Caribbean Swinger Experience". The narrator is a young man named Kyle. The story kicks off after his 18th birthday. The original has illustrations and fancy formatting and shit.

January 2013

My birthday is in January, so it was not the season for barbecues and garden parties, even down here in Santa Fe. Instead, my friends, my older sister Kelly, and I spent my big night at a heavy metal show. Neither Kelly nor me are big on drinking, and we sure didn't need any booze to get completely wrecked that night. The next evening, I was sitting in my room in front of my laptop, talking to two old friends over Skype.

Time for introductions. Don't worry, I'll be quick about it. Judith and Manuel are twins, and at that time in 2013 they were twenty years old, while Kelly was nineteen. We call them Judy and Manu. Kelly and I were introduced to them several years prior because their parents, Alvaro and Esra, were close friends of our parents. Judith and Manuel were born in Texas, while their parents are from Puerto Rico. The four of them live up in Amarillo.

"Looking good there, man," Manuel commented on the other end. "Got shit-faced yesterday?"

"Nah, went out to Houston to see Rupture live."

"Fuck, you saw Rupture?" Judith's face was painted a blatant shade of envy. She is one dedicated headbanger chick. "The one time you go hit the mosh pit, and you don't take us along?"

"The next time you feel like driving 600 miles down here, let me know."

"Okay, point taken."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone come into my room. I turned my head (which hurt like a bitch after the wild night before) just in time to see Kelly plop down on the bed behind me.

"Thanks for knocking."

"No time for that, I thought I heard someone get their panties in a twist. Lemme guess," she pointed at the screen, "Judy is jelly she didn't get to see Rupture with us?"

"Am not," Judy protested, but Manu talked over her.

"Oh, she is so jelly, you could spread her on toast and make a sandwich."

"Alright, fine. But I'm glad you guys had a good time. Happy fucking birthday, man. So, you're eighteen now, right? That means..."

"We get to see your tits now?" Kelly quipped. We all laughed. In Kelly's defense, Judy has a spectacular rack, from what I can tell. She takes after her mom that way.

"That, too. At least if you come along to Feronia in summer, because you can do that now that you are eighteen."

"Go where now?" I asked.

"To Feronia Resort. In the Dominican Republic."

"Ah, yeah." Kelly seemed to know what she meant. "You know those vacations Mom and Dad go on every two years?"

"The place with the whales?" I remembered the vacation pictures our parents had showed us, but I did not remember the name Feronia. They referred to it simply as "the resort."

"Yeah, that place." Judy paused, nodding slowly. "But there is a lot more to do, not just whale watching. Our parents took us there two years ago. We loved it, but the only thing we missed was you two."

"That sounds amazing. I have never been to the Dominican Republic," I answered.

"Me neither," Kelly said. "We should ask Mom and Dad about that tomorrow."

"You absolutely should," Manu agreed. "It was so much fun, you would love it."

"What kind of things can you do there, besides look at whales of course?" I wanted to know.

"Oh man," Manu leaned back. "Way more than I can think of right now. I bet you can stay there for months and not do and see all the things available there."

Kelly's hand shot up.

"I have a question too: why do we have to go all the way there to see Judy's tits?" We all laughed, except her. "No, seriously, I want to know."

Judy started to explain:

"Well, you see, Feronia is a very special and wonderful place where dreams come true..."

"It's a fucking nudist resort," Manu cut her short.

"Oh, right. We knew that," I answered. The thing is, we did know that.

"Sure you did," Judy grinned. "So, yeah, you get to see everybody's tits, if you are okay with that."

"We have been to nude beaches before. We'll be fine," Kelly answered, truthfully. Starting when we were Kids, our parents had taken us to nude beaches in Florida a couple of times.

"Awesome. See you in June, then!" Judy responded.

Over dinner the next day, I remembered to bring up Feronia to my parents. I told them we would be really hyped to join them that year, and Kelly backed me up. Dad seemed to be genuinely surprised by our inquiry.

"Really? You two want to hang around your old mom and dad and a bunch of naked people by the beach? For a week?"

"You say that like it was a bad thing!" Kelly replied. "Besides, Judy and Manu are going to be there, too, so we won't get bored."

"True," Mom piped in. "The Santiagos were there with us in 2011, all four of them. Judy and Manu said they missed you guys. Say, Joe, why did we not take Kyle and Kelly along then?"

"Because they weren't eighteen yet." Dad answered. "I remember how we wanted to bring both of you with us, but we couldn't."

"What's the reason for that rule anyway? Having an adults-only resort?" I asked. "We weren't eighteen the last time you took us to the nude beach in Florida, and nobody cared."

"You see, laws about public nudity are different in the Dominican Republic," Dad explained. "And resorts like this are their own business model. Basically it allows adults to take time off without their kids. Or anybody's kids, really. Kind of like Indulgence II, but bigger. And in Spanish."

"What's Indulgence II?"

"Another resort in the Caribbean."

His answer satisfied me, at least at that time. Kelly brought the discussion back on track:

"But now that we are both old enough, can Kyle and I come with you this year?"

Mom put her hand on Dad's arm.

"I'd say yes. If we get to see Alvo and Luz, it's only fair they get to see Judy and Manu." She was referring to Alvaro and Esra by their pet names. Personally, I like Esra's first name just fine, but for some reason most people call her by her second name. "Also, I really missed them on our last time over."

Dad put his cutlery down, chewing pensively, before he finally responded.

"Mind if I sleep on it?"

"Nope." Kelly and I shook our heads.

And sleep on it he did. Two nights, to be exact. Not long after he got home from work, he called Kelly and me to come down to the living room. When we got there, he was sitting on the couch with his tablet on the coffee table.

"Sit down, I want to show you something. Remember what we talked about two days ago?"

Trying to keep our excitement in check, we just nodded. Dad handed us his tablet.

"All you have to do is say yes."

"Say yes to what?" Kelly asked, tablet in hand. I leaned in to see what they were looking at.

"What you see here," Dad explained as he scrolled up on the touchscreen, "are four tickets to the Dominican Republic, four you, Kyle, your mom, and me. All you have to do is say yes to complete the order."

He had barely finished his last sentence when my sister's finger hit the "Confirm" button. When she did, a wall of text popped up.

"What's this?"

"Feronia's terms and conditions," Dad replied. "You know, all that BS you gotta agree to when you buy anything online."

"Looks fine," I said. Kelly concurred and tapped "I agree". The first line on the next screen read "Your order has been sent." Kelly gave the tablet back to Dad, then threw her arms around him.

Over dinner, our mom had one more condition for Kelly and me:

"I know you two are excited to go to Feronia with us, and I get it, we're excited too. But please don't brag about it to all of your friends, or plaster it all over Facebook. You can tell people we're going on vacation this summer, just don't brag about how we're going to this fancy resort on a tropical island, et cetera et cetera. I hate it when I am fitting customers for a pair of sunglasses, and they have to tell me all about how they are going to wear them to this years ski trip or whatever. What I mean is, I don't want my kids to be like those people."

She made a good point, so we assured her we would keep it on the down low. And in case you wondered, Mom works as an optician.

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. I for my part barely needed to convince my boss to give me the days off In July. I said the words "family vacation", and that was that. I help out at a library for minimum wage, so it's not like my absence would tear the whole business asunder. To my surprise, our friends did not ask a lot of questions, either. We told them that we'd be going to the Caribbean with our parents, and the most common reaction was "Sounds cool. Have fun!" As somebody who was in his late teens at the time ,I had no idea people our age could be this...uncomplicated.

We set up another video chat with Judy and Manu to tell them the good news, and their reaction was pretty much what I had expected, and more. For those of you who have never been prompted to fist bump somebody over Skype, let me tell you that there is no satisfactory way to do it.

Having been to Florida several times, my sister and I had a fairly good grasp on how to prepare for a trip to a sunny tropical paradise. We knew what to get, and where to get it. Except for one thing. Since Feronia Resort is in the Dominican Republic, and the Dominican Republic is a Spanish-speaking country, I felt a little ill-equipped in that respect. I had taken Spanish lessons in middle school, but after four years of not using it, "Me llamo Kyle" was the full extent of what I still knew. Despite its sexy, Mexican-sounding name, Santa Fe is like 95 percent white, so I didn't really know a lot of people around town to practice with. Instead of looking for a tutor, the solution came in the form of a free language app I found on the internet. Good job, smartphones; making people less social since 2006.

June 2013

When June came around, Kelly and I invested a good chunk of our salaries from May in a trip to the mall in League City. We loaded up on everything we thought we would need: sun block, disposable razors, micro-SD-cards for our phones and cameras, those nifty tooth brushes that close like switchblades, various other personal grooming supplies, and some new threads for the beach. For the last one, we had to split up, because the first clothing outlet we got too had some good shorts, but the bikinis were "ass-ugly", at least according to Kelly. Or, you know what, they were ass-ugly. Can't argue with that.

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.

"Damn little bro is chiseled." I go to the gym and have below-average body fat by default, but an underwear model I am not.

"Skinny gene FTW," I responded. I tried some button-down shirts for size and left the stall to put back all the stuff I didn't want. Out of curiosity, I looked if the store had some hats as well. Just as I reached out for a Panama hat, my phone vibrated. It was Kelly again, with another picture. This time she was posing in a bikini, jokingly flexing the biceps of her free arm. Much like me, Kelly ain't no runway model either, not because she is fat, but because she is shaped like a normal person. A normal person who takes care of herself. 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 hat of racks 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 a bit introverted, 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, so I didn't care to dig through all of them. There was a Wikipedia page about Feronia, too."

"Feronia has its own Wikipedia entry?" I was somewhat impressed.

"Not the resort, no. Feronia is also the name of a Roman goddess. Of fertility and freedom and flowers and shit."

"And what about Indulgence II? Did you google that?"

"Nope. How about you do that, tell me what you find?"

I agreed to do that, but I wasn't going to do it right away. I still had some studying to do, and I knew that the instant I started researching some resort in the Caribbean, I would get sidetracked for at least an hour or two. The number II made it sound like a movie sequel. So what was Indulgence I? Why was only the second one interesting enough for Dad to bring it up? I was getting sidetracked already, so I got out my phone, set a reminder to look it up, and then forgot all about it. And by that I mean I COMPLETELY forgot about it, because I set it for the wrong day, as I would find out.