Nude Noir Ch. 05

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The final installment.
11.5k words
4.73
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Part 5 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 06/04/2020
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This is the final chapter of my "Nude Noir" series. This chapter starts where Chapter Four left off and refers to parts of the story in the first three chapters. Therefore, I recommend reading the first four chapters of "Nude Noir" before reading this chapter. My apology. This chapter is a little long.

This story is a work of fiction. Some real places and institutions are mentioned or implied, but they are used fictitiously here. Insofar as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those places or institutions has done anything akin to what is described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.

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Laura's star at the FBI rose because of the Club Sensual case, and the case ended her FBI career. Laura had done outstanding work and her boss, Tampa SAC Sally Stancik, knew it. Club Sensual had recorded video inside the Sensual Elite rooms and that video was seized in the raid. We weren't too worried because everything seized in the raid on Club Sensual was supposed to be destroyed after Lydia Dunova and Brad Schermer pled guilty and Fred Holloway was murdered in jail. There wouldn't be any trials so there was no need to retain the evidence.

About six months after the case had closed, some outtakes from the Club Sensual video were sent to Sally Stancik and higher-ups in Washington. Laura, Svetlana, and I were featured in the outtakes. Sally had a pretty good idea what we'd done and could not have cared less. The bosses in D.C. were a different matter. Laura and Sally argued that what Laura had done was the only way to break the ring trafficking foreign young women into the Florida sex trade. The D.C. desk jockeys thought Laura had gone too far and enjoyed it too much. Laura was given a "compromise" of resigning from the Bureau with nothing negative in her personnel file. Laura's last words as an FBI agent were "At least give me a copy of the video!"

Laura got her PI license and became my business partner as well as my wife. Much of the better-paying PI work involved cybercrime. I'd lost that expertise when Ali Nance left me. Laura brought greater skill and knowledge than Ali had, plus experience. Laura also had forensic accounting skills I lacked. In terms of enhancing the firm, Laura was a gift from above. I'd been skeptical of spouses who worked together, thinking the time apart at different jobs was critical to a successful marriage. Laura and I disproved that. We genuinely enjoyed doing everything together. A good week for both of us was one in which we were together all the time, and nude most of the time.

Our nude time was limited because we were busy. We had manufacturing and tech clients whose trade secrets were stolen. We had defrauded banks. We had doctors and lawyers whose staff had embezzled. Unfortunately, those were not clients you could work with nude.

Svetlana had gotten her citizenship, in part, on the promise I would employ her as an administrative assistant. Svetlana did just enough for us to say we kept that promise. Most of her time was spent writing a book about how she went from being a college student in Russia with her parents imprisoned to a sex worker at Club Sensual. It took her six months to write the book, and another six months to find a publisher.

Svetlana's book did not sell well initially. But the Russian government did her a favor, issuing an official denunciation of the book as "the self-justifying lies of a prostitute," trying her in absentia for defaming the Russian Federation, and sentencing her to ten years in prison. Svetlana and her book became news. Svetlana was suddenly giving interviews and making talk show appearances. Svetlana's physical beauty came across well on television.

The US Government had ignored Svetlana since granting her citizenship. Her notoriety apparently piqued the Government's interest. Svetlana was "invited" to D.C. for a meeting with Government "representatives." This was really a debriefing by a CIA Russia analyst named Mark Kohlberg. I don't know whether Mark got any useful information, but Svetlana and Mark fell for each other. Over the next few months, Svetlana made several more trips to D.C.

Mark finally visited Svetlana in Florida. Laura and I both liked the guy. He was not put off by the fact that Svetlana lived with us in a nude resort. He didn't have experience with social nudity, but readily stripped off and spent most of his stay with us nude. He understood Svetlana's love of being nude. Based on the sounds they made in our guest bedroom, Mark and Svetlana understood other things about each other as well. Laura and I were not surprised when Svetlana moved to Washington to live with Mark. We loved Svetlana, but we were happy that she had a relationship in which she was the primary woman.

After Svetlana went to Washington, Laura and I left the country. Greg Danner had been general manager at The Cove when I first became involved with it. Greg and I had a good working relationship. He had moved on to manage a larger resort in Jamaica. The resort had a nude side and a clothed side. Not long after Greg took over, they began experiencing a lot of theft from rooms on the nude side of the resort. Some female guests also reported the sudden appearance of strange men in the areas around their rooms. Greg persuaded his company to hire us as security consultants.

We did work in Jamaica. We went over the resort property and identified problems. There was unfettered access from the beach, which was public, into the resort. The resort couldn't wall off the beach. There was an undeveloped area between the nude side of the resort and the resort to the northwest. That screened the resort's nude side but was another point of access.

Laura and I stayed at the resort for nine days. The first five were work. We met with staff, training them on alertness, identifying potential thieves, and dealing with them safely. We met with local law enforcement and, I think, improved relations between the resort and the police (who were impressed that we were ex-FBI). We recommended that the resort install an elaborate, but effective, security system that would alert when unauthorized people entered the property and would keep unauthorized people out of rooms even if they stole keycards.

Our last four days at the resort were vacation. Greg comped us rooms. Naturally, Laura and I stayed on the nude side. Being nude with Laura anywhere was great, but those four days in Jamaica were special.

On our first vacation day, Laura and I were sitting on the beach idly watching a boat taking people parasailing. We didn't think about doing it until we realized they were taking couples up together. Laura said, "that would be great to do nude." I thought she was probably right. Laura got up from her chair and said, "let's see if they'll take us up nude." I grabbed the cash we'd brought to the beach and followed her. When the boat let the last customers down, Laura went up to one of the guys running the boat and asked, "Will you take us up with nothing on?"

The man looked Laura up and down, smiled, and said "sure!" I asked how long we would be up. "About ten or fifteen minutes," the man responded.

I handed him a US hundred-dollar bill and said, "make it a lot longer."

The man smiled broadly and said, "no problem."

In a matter of minutes, Laura and I were in the harness hooked to the parachute. Seconds later we were twenty-five or so feet in the air. The sensation of the air rushing over our bare skin was exhilarating. Looking down at clothed people on the beaches and in the other resorts while we were above them completely nude was a thrill.

The shoreline of the bay rose to a cliff at one end with a bar/restaurant on top of it. The speedboat took us past the cliff. We could clearly see people on the bar patio with their food and drinks. Someone pointed at us, and people moved to the fence along the clifftop as we went by. Apparently, they could see us clearly too. People waved and applauded. The guys in the boat swung us out over the water and circled back for a second pass. That drew more people to the fence to watch us. I looked at Laura, who was grinning from ear to ear.

The boat turned away from the shore and took us out over the bay. There were quite a few small boats below us, some anchored and some underway. From our vantage point, it seemed that more than a few people on the boats were undressed too.

As the speedboat towed us to the north end of the bay, I leaned over and kissed Laura. We had been holding on the straps that held us to the parachute with both hands. Laura now let go with one hand, reached over, and began stroking my dick. She spread her legs a little, so I let go with one hand and began fingering her. This was too good to be true: hanging together nude from a parachute above a bay in Jamaica, masturbating each other.

Laura was smiling and her eyes gleamed. "Get me off," she yelled.

"If you get me off," I yelled back. Laura had already gotten me hard. She responded to my comment by stroking me more vigorously. It would have been better if we'd had some lube but, sometimes, you make do. I worked first one and then two fingers into her and began rubbing a spot I knew she liked. Soon, Laura was moaning and sucking in air. I think the guys running the boat could see what we were doing. They slowed down, which caused us to lose some altitude. They also steered for a third pass by the bar on the cliff. At that point, Laura and I didn't care. We were committed to giving each other orgasms. When Laura sensed I was about to come, she twisted me towards her. The wind caught my semen as I came and blew some of it on Laura. Seconds later, she came loudly.

Laura still had my come on her stomach when we were released from the harnesses on the beach in front of our resort. A slender nude woman came up to us. "Were you doing what I think...." she started to ask. She saw my semen on Laura, clapped her hands, and said, "you were! That's wonderful!"

"Sorry," I said, "we got a little carried away."

"No, that's great!" the woman responded. "Several of us were watching you from the beach. We thought you were getting each other off. Come on. My husband will buy you both a drink."

Laura pointed to her stomach and said, "let me towel off first."

"No!" the woman exclaimed. "That proves what you did up there!"

Laura looked at me and smiled. I shrugged. We went by the beach chairs we'd left almost an hour ago. Surprisingly, our things were still there. We grabbed them and followed the woman's tight ass on up the beach. We came to a row of beach chairs occupied by three couples of varying ages, and a man sitting next to an empty chair. As we approached, the other woman called out, "They did!" That brought us a round of applause.

The woman went to the man sitting next to the empty chair. He stood as she said to us, "I'm Trish Peters. This is my husband, Ron."

Ron, who appeared to be roughly my age, asked, "you really got each other off up there?"

Trish pointed at Laura's stomach and said, "look!"

"Well done," Ron said. "That deserves a drink!"

As we followed Trish and Ron to the beach bar, we introduced ourselves. Trish asked, "how long are you here for?"

"We were working," Laura said. "This is the first of four free days we have as compensation."

"What do you do?" Ron asked.

"Security consultants," I replied. "We were helping the resort with some issues. The general manager is an old friend."

"So," Trish said teasingly, "you've seen the videos of all of us." I started to deny that the resort took video of its guests, but Trish cut me off. "That's ok. Ron and I like to be seen fucking."

I wouldn't call Trish beautiful, but there was something very sexy about her. Trish and Ron were openly very affectionate and, I guessed, had a lot of fun together. They were also good company. However, Laura and I wanted to get out of the sun. Before we left the bar, Trish invited us to join her and Ron for dinner. "Unfortunately," she added, "we have to wear clothes at dinner." The resort had one large, open-air dining room that was used by all guests.

For dinner, I wore a polo shirt and khaki shorts, and Laura wore a sundress with panties. Trish and Ron made us feel grossly overdressed. Ron wore only a terrycloth wrap around his midsection. It was short enough that you could see the tip of his dick below the hem. Trish wore a white pareo that was basically transparent with nothing underneath. Trish explained that "the resort requires us to wear something to dinner, but we still want to show off. We dressed this way for dinner the first two nights here. No one said anything, so we assume it's cool."

Laura and I had not eaten in the guest dining room during the days we were working at the resort. Other guests shared Trish's and Ron's approach to dressing for dinner. We resolved to wear a lot less to dinner the next three nights. We learned that Trish and Ron were from Ontario. Ron was a structural engineer. Trish owned a shop in Toronto that sold high-end lingerie. We were fascinated when they told us a lot about a club in Toronto called "Oasis," which sounded like a legitimate Club Sensual.

As we finished dinner, Trisha asked what we were doing for the night. "We're not sure," I said. It was still early, only about 7:00 p.m.

"Go back to your room and rest up," she advised. "It gets more fun around here late. At midnight, the main swimming pool becomes clothing optional. In case you don't know, the disco is built in front of that pool. There's a common wall between the pool and the disco with a large window built in so people in the disco can see into the pool." Trish grinned and added, "Ron and I like to hang out by that window at night. The hot tub on the nude side is usually busy until 3:00 or 4:00 and they serve drinks there until 2:30. We usually end up there. Why don't you join us tonight?"

"That sounds like fun," Laura said.

"Great!" Trish replied. "What's your room number? We'll knock on your door about five minutes to midnight."

Laura and I went back to our room and got an almost four-hour nap. We felt good when Trish and Ron knocked on our door. I was wearing shorts and Laura had on a short cover-up. Trish and Ron were both naked. "Ditch the clothes," Trish said, "you won't be using them tonight."

"At midnight," Ron added, "you can go anywhere in the resort nude until sun-up." Laura and I stripped off immediately. The only thing we took with us was a waterproof pouch with a keycard and some cash for drinks.

The main pool was empty when we arrived exactly at midnight, but we could hear the thudding bass from the disco's sound system. "I wish we could go nude in the disco," Trish said. "That would be fun."

The four of us got into the pool. Trish and Ron swam to the end of the pool by the disco. Laura and I followed. At the pool wall, Trish told us to go underwater. We did. There was, indeed, a huge window from the pool into the disco. We saw people standing at the bar and staff mixing drinks. That some of the guests were looking at us suggested they could see us as clearly.

Laura and I surfaced. Trish said, "If you rest your arms on the side of the pool, everything from your chest to your feet is visible in the disco." The four of us did that, looking out at the empty beach and the water beyond. I assumed disco patrons were looking at our four nude bodies.

We had only been in the pool a few minutes when a rather young, American, female voice from behind us said, "Uh, excuse us."

We all turned and saw two girls standing beside the pool in bikinis. They looked to be in their late teens or early twenties. The same girl spoke again. "Is it true that you don't have to wear suits in the pool this time of night?"

"That is true," Ron said.

"We're not wearing suits," Trish added.

The other girl looked at the one who had spoken uncertainly. "Are we going to?" she asked.

"Damn it," the girl who had spoken to us said, "we're on vacation. No one here knows any of us. If we don't do it now, when will we?"

In a friendly, almost maternal voice, Laura said, "skinny-dipping is great. I need to warn you, once you've done it, you'll never want to wear a swimsuit again."

"See!" the girl who had spoken to us said. She unhooked the back of her top and slid it off her arms. She pushed the bottom off her hips, down her legs, and stepped out of it. She seemed attractive, and there is something very sexy about seeing a woman undress in public. She stood nude in front of her friend, with her hands on her hips and her head slightly cocked; obviously impatient for her friend to strip off too. Very hesitantly, the other girl did.

The two girls got in the pool at the end farthest from us. They crouched down so the water hid their bodies. A couple of minutes later, a clothed server walked up to the pool and asked, "can I get anyone drinks?"

Laura and I ordered wine. Trish and Ron asked for beers. I called to the two girls, "What do you want to drink? Its on us in honor of your first skinny-dipping experience."

After a few seconds, the girl who had spoken to us called back, "rum and coke."

"Two?" I asked.

"Please," she called back. I nodded at the server.

The server was soon back with the drinks in plastic cups. I got out of the pool and paid her. I took Laura's, Trish's, and Ron's drinks to them. I walked back to the table where the server had set the rum and cokes and called out to the two girls, "Do you want me to set these at the edge of the pool?"

The girl who had spoken to us replied, "no, I'll come get them." She stood up and I could see water dripping off grapefruit-sized breasts onto a flat stomach. She walked to the ladder at the shallow end of the pool and took the two steps up to the pool deck. Naturally, I looked at her as she walked towards me. She was blonde, slender, and a couple of inches shorter than Laura. As she got closer, I saw she had a small nose and wide mouth. She moved unself-consciously for someone who, I assumed, was experiencing public nudity for the first time.

As she reached the table, she said, "thank you for the drinks. I'm Paula Taft."

I handed Paula a rum and coke. "Ian Beck," I said. "The other folks with me are my wife Laura and a couple we met here, Trish and Ron Cardinal."

"I apologize for my friend," Paula said, "She's a little bashful, which is ironic since the whole reason we came here was because it has a nude beach. We got in yesterday and tonight is the first time we've had our clothes off."

"Are you with anyone else?" I asked.

"No," Paula replied. "Jen and I went to school together. We graduated a year ago and we've both been working in Columbus. We've both had boyfriend problems over the last few months. We decided to go where no one knows us and let loose, a little. I just need to get Jen to let loose."

"Paula, are you bringing my drink back?" Jen called out.

"Come on and get it yourself," Paula called back. "Why hide that cute bare ass in the water?" Paula smiled at me.

"Would you like to meet my wife and our friends?" I asked.

"Sure," Paula said. She walked with me to the disco end of the pool. I introduced her to Laura, Trish, and Ron. Paula put her drink on the edge of the pool and slid into the water next to Laura. "I can feel the bass from the disco in the concrete," she said.

"The disco is on the other side of the wall," Laura told her. "In fact, there is a window behind the bar that looks into this pool."

"No," Paula said.

"Go underwater and look," Laura replied.

Paula ducked under the water. She was back up a couple of seconds later. "That is cool! We're all flashing everyone in the disco!" she said. I expected her to jump out of the pool and go back to her friend, but she stayed, leaning on the pool edge next to Laura with her front to the window.